Either a Front is Coming Through or My Head is Trying to Kill Me

Woke up with a headache. Not as bad as yesterday, but enough to get me down about the prospect of walking the dog. So, I went back to bed and got up only when the dog and I would normally be getting home.

I’ve had two scenes in my head for weeks–one is of a man racing up Front Street (now 1st Avenue) to show a box to Dr Macon. In that box is a heart and, for some reason, the sight of the heart causes Dr. Macon to grab his coat and rush off. No idea what, if anything, is going on there. Just letting it simmer.

The second one though, I worked on fleshing out a little last night. It’s about a guy named Frank who works for a doctor who has gone off the rails and conducts experiments on people. I’m not sure what kind. I wrote Frank up a backstory for the long scar he’s got running down his chest but I don’t think it’s quite right. I think Frank may be a zombie in the actual sense and the doctor may be like if Wade Davis had come back from Haiti with some wrong ideas. If that’s the case, then I’ll have to finesse the start of the story a little bit. But anyway, poor Frank, who doesn’t (perhaps can’t) talk much has a rich interior life for a guy trapped on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, his only job to keep the cute blonde also trapped on the ranch from leaving. That turns out to be easier than he could have imagined. Probably won’t end well for the doctor.

So, that’s fun. It’s kind of thematically similar to “The Witch’s Friend” so maybe I’ll save it for October, too. Maybe not. Who knows? The publishing world is crumbling. I may be left with standing near a bonfire in my back yard reading this stuff to the Butcher’s friends.

But it’s kind of fun to write from a man’s perspective. I have to admit, though, I kind of want every other scene to be him touching his penis or peeing or sticking his penis various places. Maybe actually having a penis isn’t that big a deal, but I have to tell you, it was all I could do to keep from calling up a couple of guy friends and being all “Okay, when guys say they feel ‘hard,’ that’s obviously a physical sensation. But is it also a metaphor? Is it just that your penis feels hard to you? How deep is the hard feeling? Like are you hard from taint to tip or from deep in your belly or what?”

But I did not. Because I chickened out a little bit. But I feel like I can get my head around what it’s like psychologically to be a dude. I still have no idea, none at all, what it must feel like to be a male body.

And I’m not sure it’s something, even if you told me, I could exactly imagine.

Which probably makes “Frank” objectively a shitty story, but man, I’m having fun writing it.

10 thoughts on “Either a Front is Coming Through or My Head is Trying to Kill Me

  1. When most women say something like that I’d advise them to take their best guess and turn it up about 4 levels to what they think is absurd. You on the other hand…. you might have a pretty good idea of what it feels like to be a man.

    On what hard feels like……. You kinda hit the both extreme ends of the spectrum. Usually somewhere in between.

  2. Ha, I was wondering if anyone would be brave enough to take a crack at it! And it’s you, W. That tickles me. Okay, good. I feel like I’m on the right track. Except, now I’m worried that i don’t have him looking at her tits nearly enough.

  3. Don’t worry about that. If anyone says “you don’t have him looking at her tits nearly enough,” you can say that he’s a leg man and is always trying to catch a glimpse of stocking.

  4. Unless a woman is part werewolf, she has no need to shave the hair on her upper thighs. Anyone who regularly goes above the knee is a sucker to the Gilette corporation.

  5. Oh my god! Then the back of my legs are part werewolf. Disappointingly I do not appear to be growing a wolf tail, though. Ha ha ha. No, I’m not sure I even have hair on the front of my thighs.

  6. I woke up with a pounding headache yesterday and it stuck with me pretty much all day. I thought it might be a front coming through, too. Today I’m fine.

    I never used to be affected by the weather but man, these days every change in the weather causes a shocking array of aches, pains & other chronic ailments. Getting old SUCKS.

  7. I have often thought that if I was an evil genius who wanted the world to really change, I would create a virus that forced an instantaneous gender switch on people at random times. So that it was like a cold, and you felt weird one day and the next day you wake up the other gender.

    And if I could do that, not only would sexism disappear, but you’d just have to wait for the next time you switched to answer that question.

  8. I switched “Frank” from first-person past tense to first-person present tense and he works much better as a twice-dead zombie now. Bless his heart, he’s like the twice-baked potato of zombies.

    He thinks he was a murderous drifter, but he was really a rising star of ethnobotany. Poor Frank.He doesn’t know that yet, but when he and the mystery blonde (kept in a cage at night) break into the Doc’s lab, he will learn the terrible truth.

    Ha ha ha. Well, you know, it’s not a good story until you’re talking about some zombified academic’s dick. That pretty much goes without saying.

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