Upon reading my last blog entry, my friend Jim became alarmed and inquired whether I had been burned.
Adagio is a work of fiction and should not be mistaken for a chronicle of actual events or a veiled allusion to same.
With that said, it is also true that there is some of me in the story. This simply cannot be avoided. Often I 'paint' myself into the 'picture' as a way of solving problems of plot or dialogue. I know what I would wish to say or do in some situations, so it is easier to implant myself rather that speculate what some other character might do. This does occasionally lead to complications, however. It occurred to me whilst I was delineating the story that I should not want to be resussitated from complications which were caused by/included burns to more than 60% or so of my body. [depending on what areas, but you get the idea] The concept of bad burns was more a plot device to keep the subject's arms raised despite their natural tendencies than any reflection upon my well being.
In that vein, in order to prevent any future misapprehensions I shall delineate several things that I have/am/will be writing about that have also not happened.
I have not been killed.
(is that a shock or what?)
I have not killed anyone [today].
I have no uncurable diseases, though I may be susceptible to colon cancer.
I have not been shot, stabbed, peirced (violently), skewered, impaled, transfixed, bludgeoned, beaten, or properly taunted.
I have not engaged in sodomy, either as a 'pitcher' or a 'catcher'.
I have not engaged in bestiality. Anything that the aardvark claims is a lie.
I have not channeled any souls or spirits, nor knowingly come in contact with anything supernatural, except for one occasion where I sat partly in the 'cold spot' where someone died.
I am not aware of being the re-incarnation of any persons, spirits, or other personas of beatific or malevolent demeanor. Despite what my parents say.
I am not now, nor have I ever been a member of the Communist Party. I'm on the Communist Party Planning Committee. These parties dont happen by themselves.
I fully intend to add more B.S. as it comes to me.
I thought that Adagio turned out extremely well, considering that it was pretty much a direct download from my brain. I'm not sure that its an accident, but the only real details are in what the main character feels or attempts. That goes a long way to making it feel somewhat surreal. No irrelevant objects are described, or no notice is given to them. I should have added a few lines in the middle, something like:
Holding her again was exhilarating, almost overwhelming. Being all that she can see and feel at this moment. Right now. This is the moment he wants to preserve. This moment and no others.
That would have gone a lot further to making the alternate title make sense:
"A Time of His Life"
On the other hand, I realised that my feet had forgotten how to waltz, and that I do not have a proper copy of die blau donau. Bummer.