I sense a huge wave of work heading my way. GONE 3 is just begun and I’m slowly gathering momentum. (I’m toying with cannibalism, crypto-Nazis and false prophets.) And there’s other stuff on the horizon. Maybe a lot of other stuff. And it’s probably revealing that I look forward so happily to all that writing. It will be damned near impossible. The very thought of it brings out a happy/evil smile.
It all goes back to waiting tables. I loved the nights when another waiter wouldn’t show up and I’d cover his station. Eight tables? On a Saturday night? Oh yeah. Caffeine and illegal shots at the bar, and just go, go, go eating Advil for the sore back and feet and just blazing along at full speed. I love the rush. I love pressure. I love when someone says, “There’s no way . . .” Life is boring until it becomes impossible.
A sh**storm of work is rolling my way and I am giddy. If I pull off everything I currently have in the works I will be . . . um, not sure. Hmmm. I’ve never been quite sure why I’m almost erotically attracted to speed and pressure. All I know is that I am most alive, most happy, when someone gives me an Augean stable to clean out and I pull it off.
That’s right: I am going to the Hercules reference. Possibly because I’ve just turned my daughter on to Xena: Warrior Princess. The Girl is so Xena. This is a girl with never fewer than 8 scabs going at any one time. We box — with gloves — and she is dangerous. I’m not kidding: she will kick your ass. And we swordfight with foam swords. And now she’s waking me up with Xena moves.
In any case, we are taking our too-loud American family show on the road. A week. We’re driving from here to Provence, Languedoc and Charente. I was raised part of my life in Charente Maritime. It’s the redneck riviera of France. So I’m going back to old haunts. La Rochelle, Fouras, Royan, Rochefort.
And then we’re driving up to Normandy. I’ll try to blog from the road. For a week, I won’t be another lucky b*stard living in Tuscany, I’ll be another lucky b*stard tripping through France.