A few years ago when I was working on this book I never ended up finishing, I was going to write this one chapter from the point of view of a really messed up individual, so I had this idea that I would drink a beer for every page I wrote and I would write them all consecutively until I passed out.
Never happened though.
This was when I was living in a tent in the woods and writing on a typewriter. Why that book never saw the light of day the world may never know. It seemed like a good idea but it was mostly high concept and not a lot of substance. It included a Christ figure. That's all I'm saying. And a parrot that could recite Shakespeare. Ok, that's really it.
The woods were lovely, dark and deep. But I had promises to keep.
One of these years that I'm in Pennsylvania, I'm going to visit Punxsutawney on Groundhog Day. Hopefully it will be like the movie. The polka part, not the constantly repeating hell part.