We had class this afternoon. In Special Libraries we're visiting all these special libraries but we have to go when they're open so I'm burning quite a bit of vacation time in the process.
But it's fine cause otherwise I never use it.
Though I may be forced to tomorrow.
I'm making a deal, if it's super bad weather and my car is drifted in I'm not going.
It's not about the fact that I can drive on the snow, it's about the fact that the idiots I'm surrounded by can't. And the last time I had to drive to work in the snow it took an hour just to drive 10 miles AND I about got smoked three times by three different cars, so I'm hesitant to go anywhere with these crazy drivers.
Where was I?
Oh right, today.
Today's tour was awesome. We got to see Tom's inner sanctum. He comes in all the time but I knew nothing about his library so it was super cool. Might do a practicum there if he's up for it, cause I found it super interesting. He works at the Regional Center meaning it's in the mental health care facility but their library has both fiction and nonfiction. What he doesn't have he gets through us or the Commission.
I just liked his attitude and what he had to say, and I already knew he was a nice guy so if he's up for it and the Library Goddess okay's it I would totally be in for that in the fall.
Otherwise I have no idea where else to do it. College town maybe, learn the BISAC system.
But pretty sure I'd go nuts jumping from that to Dewey on a daily basis.
Anyway, so the tour was awesome. Afterwards I did nothing but homework for like hours, finally quitting around 10 cause I'm just exhausted. I need to start getting more sleep which is why this post is going to be short - well, this part at least - cause it's already passed midnight.
Tomorrow was going to be the other tour, but as mentioned yesterday, the Library Goddess is in physical pain cause we can't meet and has put me in charge of arranging some sort of group meetup for a virtual session cause there's a limited amount of logins that can happen at once to this specific website we have to go to - but that's also tomorrow afternoon so even if I couldn't make it to work in the morning I'd still have to dig out my car in the afternoon, which would be fine as there would hopefully be ice on the roads by then.
For those of you not local, it's supposed to be the storm of the century for us here, expecting like 10-12 inches. I'm hoping it's all hype.
Even if it isn't you know we're still gonna be open. Our bosses are stubborn like that and much like the Library Goddess, pull out the post office motto on occasion as well.
So, I should sleep, cause I'm in for a long day tomorrow.
Here's the music, afterwards you get the fiction and then I'm gonna crash.
Song that was stuck in my head all day for absolutely no reason whatsoever:
Green River - CCR
i have no explanation as for why i was singing this all day. it might be due to the fact i heard Fortunate Son last night, but that's all i can think of.
Okay, so yesterday I finished Family History, well my Dad's side anyway, so Part One, perhaps I can talk the Cool Aunt into giving me some info on Mom's side this weekend.
So now I'm gonna break it up and give you some fiction.
Story behind this one: Basically I took Fiction Writing in college and this was one of the stories I submitted to be reviewed by the class. You may get multiple of these, depending on how I'm feeling at the time.
See, I think they're crap, but I've been told otherwise, so I'll let you be the judge.
And I never like ever share this stuff, seriously ever unless I'm forced to in a class, so this is huge for me. Even Sketch would tell you it's like pulling teeth, so enjoy them while they last.
Life of a Teenage Writer - Part One
“I want to be a writer,” A.J. said to the guidance counselor. Silence ensued. He hated these kind of meetings. The awkward silence was always the worst. “All freshmen must meet with the guidance counselor to talk about their bright futures” said the flyer taped to his locker. He tapped his foot on the white tiled floors. Say something, he thought. When she didn’t he started playing with the bottom of his red cotton t-shirt, then wiped some imaginary dirt off his worn out jeans.
“That’s nice,” Mrs. Bailey finally replied, exhaling as she took off her glasses and wiped them on her shirt. Mrs. Bailey was a wide woman, horizontally and vertically. She hid her physical insecurities behind a large wooden desk which was organized to the max. Nothing was out of place. Even the pencils were evenly sharpened. A.J. looked around the room, the silence getting to him. Pamphlets and flyers covered the yellow walls of the counselor’s office in an organized pattern. “I can’t stop crying” said one; “My mother had a sex change” said another.
“Do you have any backup plans?” the older woman asked politely, putting her glasses back on and pushing her loose strands of white hair behind her ears.
A.J. wasn’t surprised at her lack of faith. He discovered a while ago that “I want to be a writer” roughly translates to “I want to live in my parents’ basement ordering chocolate by the case and drowning myself in booze.”
“No,” he replied simply.
“How would you get started?” she asked simply.
“That’s a good question.”
**Three Years Later**
“Smile kid, it’s your first book launch party!” said Charlie, A.J.’s tall, dark and frustrating agent. Charlie was dressed in a black suit, his dark hair parted to the side and his smile showed off his perfect white teeth.
A.J. flinched at Charlie’s tone. He could hear the reporters setting up equipment in the auditorium and talking amongst themselves. He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and attempted to tie his tie.
“Stop it Charlie, you’re only making things worse,” said Kate, the ever-faithful best friend, stepping between the two of them and grabbing A.J.’s tie to re-do it. A.J. started fidgeting with his pants instead. She smacked his hands, “They look fine. You’re sweating through your shirt. Here, put on the jacket.” She picked up the black jacket from the chair and thrust it in his direction.
“I look like a penguin!” he replied, sliding in his arms in anyway. “Why do we have to do this? We didn’t do a big party for the first book and it sold fine.”
Charlie turned and looked A.J. in the eyes. “That’s because you were a no-named kid. Now there are hundreds of reporters out there waiting to get the scoop on your new sequel. You’re only sixteen and you’re already a best-selling author! Everyone wants to know what happens next to Detective Matt Harper and the rest of his geek squad. People came hundreds of miles just to see you tonight.” Charlie went out to the podium to make sure everything was set up.
“You’re not helping,” yelled Kate, pulling a comb out of her purse and running it through A.J.’s hair. She returned the comb to her purse and pulled out breath spray, chapstick, and a mirror.
“Have anything stronger in there?” he asked hopefully. Kate glared. “I’m joking… I’m so nervous.” He put on the chapstick, sprayed the breath spray and stared at himself in the mirror, his hands shaking.
“You’re going to do great,” Kate smiled and took the mirror. “Just… imagine them all naked.”
“Ew,” A.J. gagged, “the person in charge is a 40-year-old overweight bald man.”
“Okay, then imagine them all… doing the Macarena,” she amended. A.J. laughed.
“Thanks Kate. What would I do without you?” he asked looking in her eyes. Kate blushed.
“Probably end up stranded in a desert somewhere. Alright, spin. I gotta give you the once-over.” A.J. spun around quickly. “You look very handsome Azariah James.”
“Hey, don’t be full-naming me, Kath-.”
“No!” she cut him off, “There will be none of that! Truce?” Kate stuck out her hand.
“Truce,” A.J. replied shaking it. “You look very nice, by the way,” he added, still holding her hand and trying to be smooth. Kate could feel the heat radiating off her face. She looked down at her short black dress and tall high heels. They stayed hand-in-hand for a while until Charlie returned.
“Okay, so here’s what is going to happen.”
They dropped hands immediately. A.J. stepped back and ran his fingers through his hair while Kate suddenly found something in her purse fascinating.
“You go out to the podium and give the speech that we practiced. You smile for pictures, answer some questions, shake some hands, sign some autographs, and then you’re done,” Charlie said, adjusting his bow tie. “They’ll ask you about your writing routines and your inspiration. The mundane life of a writer is apparently fascinating to reporters.”
“I’m so tired of everyone asking me where I get my inspiration. Can’t they think of anything more original?” said A.J. running his hands through his hair again. Kate grabbed them and straightened it again.
“I will make you a deal,” said Charlie. “Every time you have to answer that question I will give you a quarter.”
“Score! I’ll be a billionaire by the time I’m thirty.”
“If you answer it without contempt.”
“Ah, well, millionaire then maybe.”
Charlie was the kind of man who would bribe his way into heaven if it was possible. He was always out for a quick buck but he was smart about it. If A.J. put on a smiling face for the cameras tonight and came off as charming then all the other editors would fall at his feet. If that meant getting rid of some of his spare change then so be it.
“Deal?” Charlie asked, sticking out his hand.
“Deal,” A.J. responded, stepping forward as he shook Charlie’s hand.
“You ready?”
A.J. took a deep breath. “Let the madness begin.” He gave Kate a high five and followed Charlie toward the stage. He could still faintly hear Kate sing, “Heeyyy Macarena!” and smiled.
