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THE_MIST


                                              June 23, 2006

 During my mid-teens, being a writer
 was my goal in life. To the extent
 that I had any goals (outside of
 the obvious ones).

   Being an over-intellectualized
   introvert, I was very interested        Thankfully, I
   in Kerouac's "spontaneous prose"        was a little too
   ideas; and I was both frustrated        smart for the
   with blocked writing projects, and      alcohol trap.
   had the feeling that my life was
   in a rut (at the age of 16), so I
   conceived of an experiment that
   would address both problems:

   I would attempt to write a mystery       The working title
   novel that took place in the             for this "mystery
   framework of my life; I would work       novel" project        And I haven't
   fictional events into what had           became "The Mist".    lost any of
   happened to me that day, and use                               my keen sense
   the need for story material to                                 of clever
   drive me in different directions                               wordplay.
   in my actual life.
   
          A day dream written
          down in installments.            (There's a very common set-up in
                                           Japanese anime: superheroes who--
               A device to break           for no apparent reason-- refuse to
               a set pattern of            abandon their secret identities as
               behavior.                   high school kids.)
   
      That particular experiment
      ran into some problems, of   But was it really
      course.                      that silly a          "If I want to go
                                   scheme?  Maybe        around asking
                                   I needed to take      questions at
      I was a kid who was          it more seriously.    random, I'll need
      carefully keeping my                               a cover.  Maybe I
      head down in the                                   should start an
      Long Island suburban                               'underground'
      hell... there were      It would be very           school newspaper."
      reasons for this.       easy to dismiss
                              this isolation as
        The rut that I        excessive shyness--
        was living in was     certainly that's      But the reasons I
        only partially of     how I regarded it     was keeping my
        my own creation,      at the time.          head down were
        much of it was                              perhaps not such
        the usual school                            bad reasons.
        regimentation.
                                                    There's a Fitzgerald line:
           What are the odds                        "The true artist lives
           that I would                             his life like a spy in
           suddenly find ways                       enemy territory."
           to deviate from
           this for *secret*                                And he wrote that
           reasons?                                         line before they
                                                            invented suburbia!
                      And those reasons would be
                      incomprehensible without              And at least The
                      lengthy explaination, and             Artist has a name
                      dismissed as irrational or            for what they are.
                      insane once explained.
                                                            THE_IRON_KEY
   
   
                 It was the beginning of
                 "social studies" class.
                 There had been a fight       I caught a glimpse
                 in the hall that people      of this fight on my
                 were still talking about.    way in the door:
                                              some pudgy, nerdy
                 Things had calmed down,      guys who weren't at
                 and the bell had just        all known as "bad
                 rung, but the teacher        kids" were going at
                 was still standing in        it, rolling around
                 the doorway.  He             on the floor.
                 mentioned that there was
                 actually blood on the                   Red-faced.
                 floor.                                  Clumsy.
   
   
                 I stood up out of my seat,
                 walked across the room and
                 shouldered past him to look
                 down the hall.  He looked
   In High       momentarily stunned-- I              There was indeed,
   School,       was technically breaking             a tiny little
   standing      the rules, and I wasn't              puddle of blood,
   up and        someone he'd expect to do            thick-looking,
   walking       this.                                bright red against
   around                                             the drab greenish
   can be        Then, as I returned to my            speckled tiles.
   a radical     seat, he commented, with
   act.          his usual cynical sarcasm,           The buckets of
                 "Yes, the sight of blood             blood disappeared
   How is it     usually does bring out the           from my murder
   possible      crowds."                             scene.  That
   to create                                          understated puddle
   a free,       I smiled weakly and sat down,        was so much better.
   engaged       while the other kids were no
   citizenry     doubt wondering about my                (But despite scenes
   with this     behavior-- I described briefly          of violence like
   sort of       what I'd seen to the guy next           this, I still had
   system?       to me.                                  trouble coming up
                                                         with a motive for a
                     (And retroactively                  high school murder
                     converted any curiosity             strong enough that
                     about me into curiosity             I could believe in
                     about the blood.)                   it.)
   







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