I have reached that point where I accept that I have somehow taken the exit ramp from the highway of hip, from the tracks of technological savviness. Nowadays if I can’t do something, I no longer assume that it can’t be done. I assume someone born after the Berlin Wall fell will be able to do it.
So I called one of these young people into the office.
“Are you intelligent?” I asked her.
I studied her. “Hold on a second. I’m going to want confirmation.”
But the person I was calling wasn’t in. Meanwhile the young woman in question has thrown herself on one of my chairs and is laughing her ass off at me.
“If you’re sure you’re gifted, I’m going to need your help.”
She walks toward the Computer of Doom. She too cannot figure out how to resolve the problem. I realize it cannot be fixed by an Earthly Soul, and I move on with my life.
But first she asks me, “Why do you need to print that?”
I look at the article title. Scapegoats in Greek and Roman Ritual. “Why not?” I ask her.
She picks at a fraying thread and frowns at me, but says nothing. Then she shakes her head and informs me that she has a life, and she skips out to enjoy it.
But I could hardly say the truth, could I? She already knows that I love reading history and learning funky things in general (of a non-technological nature). But the truth of this particular matter–that since starting to write my book I have begun scavenging through history to find places where my magical premise can be woven in seamlessly, well…
This week I have exciting plans. I shall be heading to my secret location right here in the city where my novel currently features its “inciting incident”–that event which launches the book’s action into being. Very exciting. I shall try to look like a tourist, although I expect I shall come off as wholly suspicious. Most people come to this place to enjoy the architecture and whatnot, gazing about themselves in pleasure and tranquility, and meanwhile I shall most decidedly be looking for “the right spot,” constantly checking “would they be seen from here,” “where could X be found?” and “would security see them here?” Not the least suspicious questions to be testing…
Yes, perhaps it is no coincidence, the subject of my last blog.
Should I be removed bodily from yet another location this week, I may just blog about it. On the other hand, I may dust myself off and try get someone to help me explore by revealing that I’m writing a book and require the ability to investigate the area. That said, that may just be the ticket to complete denial. 🙂
No, no… They shall be happy to have me ask these odd questions. I am quite resolved that I shall go there and seek out what Anne Shirley (of Anne of Green Gables) would call a bosom soul, and I shall tell this bosom soul what my purpose is, honestly, and he or she shall help me, much in the manner of, um, a fairy godmother. Oh dear. There are no fairy godmothers.
I may not need a ticket to denial. I may be there already. 🙂 But I shall try!
Anyone got any story research tales to share? 🙂 Or things they haven’t done but wished they had?