It intrigues me how lots of times I can sing a good song in the car, making it up as I go along, good images and rhymes with potential and then when I get to a pen and paper I can't remember tunes or words. The same things apply to stories. So I thought what if I started just jotting down just the first paragraphs of my books I want to write with a title and then the reader can piece the rest of it together in their head. Sort of like a word doodle. I invented that, "word doodle", send all royalties to me.
A quick aside, the inventor of the "cheese doodle" died recently. Here is the URL of the details:
http://www.nydailynews.com/money/2010/08/02/2010-08-02_morrie_yohai_90_inventor_of_the_cheez_doodle_dies.html
Read it and feel free to add comments and keep in mind I try to run a respectable blog. So here is one I call:
Serial Napping and Font Addiction
I’m not sure if either caused the other or vice-versa. Now, it all just seems confusing. Sixth months ago if I you asked me if I’d become an addict or develop a sick and tragic habit I probably would have laughed in your face. That’s not like me, never has been. I’ve always been a straight Joe, the kind of person you called on if you needed somebody on a committee or to coach a little league team. Man oh man, if my Cub Scout den saw me now, accused of the things I am and those sordid things others have whispered that I’ve done. It just makes me sick, that’s what it does, makes me sick. Then when I sit down and shut up long enough to think and to just sweat in my chair and stew in my own juices I start to wonder. Even if I have no memory of it doesn’t mean I didn’t or couldn’t have. Then I think of my girl and wish she was here to help, but I know if she was, she wouldn’t, she’d just spit in my face, or maybe worse. This is crazy I tell you, just flat out hinky and I’m gonna get to the bottom of it if I have to sit here all night.
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