So but anyhow I spent the whole day into the evening on the big couch at my client's house, watching Michael Myers get not-quite-killed over and over. The place is a pretty expansive condo, and I was in the lower garden-half, where a couple unused bedrooms lie off a long darkened corridor. The dog and I reclined on the couch, long after the sun had gone down. I considered turning on a couple lights, but I don't like to waste electricity, and plus I ain't scared by no fool slasher flicks, maaaaan.
But suddenly the dog, who had been asleep, leaped from the couch and began barking manically, and growling deep in her throat, the hair all along her back standing straight up. To be honest, I almost peed a little. Turns out she just saw a little lap dog outside and freaked out. But I'll admit it-- for about three seconds I was pretty much in horror-movie freak-out mode. It must have looked pretty funny.
Speaking of things inspired/derived from John Carpenter, for the last couple days I've had that one bit off DJ Shadow's "Endtroducing" (an album which is heavily seasoned with clips from Carpenter's underrated "Prince of Darkness") where the deep voice buried in static is repeating "it is happening...again..." This is of course my unconscious mind's way of reminding me to get my unconscious ass in gear in re: this November's novel. As in years past, I've been mulching ideas all year, and now I've got a head full of rich fertilizer (yes, I'm just going to give you that one free. Your welcome.) Also as in years past, I'm probably going to work at a slow pace the first part of the month, taper off, and then finish the whole thing in a few days in the last week, calling in sick to work and not sleeping and drinking a stomach-corroding amount of coffee. However this is the first year I'll be doing it without cigarettes, which have sort of been my spirit animal for the last 17 years. So we'll see how it goes.
(This is also the time of year that certain people feel obliged to piss on the whole idea of National Novel Writing Month, which is of course the right of every American. However, I have this to say: sit on it. I'll be happy to debate it's merits and flaws with anybody interested.)
*My genius idea for a costume this year was a lazy man's triumph-- I would steal from the Handsome Family, who I saw perform one Halloween in their normal clothes, but with matching bullet-holes in their foreheads. I could dress like normal for the bar, and if anyone said "What's your costume supposed to be?" I could respond "What costume?"
However, I was so enmeshed in the saga(s) of Michael Myers, and walking the dog, that by the time I got to the costume shop on my way to the bar, the Molly-Hatchet-album-cover-looking guy behind the counter was making the throat-slashing motion to me through the doors that indicated that I was too late and they were closed. He did come to the door to tell me in person, though, giving me the chance to say:
"Hey look, I really just need to get shot in the face-- I'll pay you cash!"