January 7, 2012: For starters, you'll be happy to know that SPACE CASE is selling like hotcakes. Last week someone bought another copy and doubled my sales. Since then, things have been going up ... UP! ... So don't miss YOUR chance to get a virtual copy of SPACE CASE ... You'll laugh yourself gaseous!
By the way, it may interest you to know that my novel's original title included the article "THE." It was at the beginning, before SPACE. I was going to keep it there, but I decided it would go better in the body of the story itself -- page 64, in fact. Writing is like that -- making difficult choices and daring to be different!
But that's not what I wanted to talk about today. I was thinking about this little old lady I saw at Balducci's market a few weeks back. It was late morning and a surly staff member was just bringing out the pricey hot food -- pan after pan, laying it atop that mysterious steaming bed of shallow hot water adjacent to the salad bar. (It's a good hot food bar, actually, even though I get diarrhea every time I eat there.)
Anyway, this old biddy, like me, stood there checking out the newly arriving viddles, waiting to see, perhaps, if it might be worth investing her Social Security in a hot meal. It had all the makings of a happy moment, really, when suddenly I saw this seemingly normal, civilized old pecker start pinching the roasted chicken with her bare hand!
I couldn't believe my eyes! This old bitch was actually grabbing her bare, grubby fingers right into a fresh tray of public food, digging her dirty, ancient nails right into the folds of that fresh fowl's crisp, coated skin, plucking at a steaming piece of rosemary-stinking chicken ... and then not even eating it, but just moving it to the side, like she'd just come out to see if there still might be a pulse -- to see if it was still worth trying to reanimate that poor beaten bird.
Needless to say, I knew I couldn't let it pass, if only in symbolic deferrence to my Blah-ugh! readers. (You expect me to do something, after all, don't you. You'd be disappointed if I didn't. It's become like my civic duty -- like that time I vandalized that religious leader's pickup truck in order to prove my point about spirituality. It's become my re-spon-si-bil-i-ty!)
But it's hard to know exactly how to handle the elderly, given their frailty and vaguely mysterious odors. I decided it wasn't a good time to take any extreme actions, so I merely shook my finger (and quite violently) at her. She was startled, which made me feel a bit better, but I also thought to add a sizable acidic frown and very contemptuous head shake and glare, even wagging my finger at her with additional vigor.
So, you see, my attention isn't strictly consumed with the marketing of my new e-novel. (SPACE CASE, which is available from Amazon AND Barnes & Noble online for a reasonable $2.99.) I also consider it my ugly duty to keep suspicious tabs on the never-ending despicable actions of the elderly.