Ham Lett, P.I.–Rude Awakenings March 20, 2014Posted by stuffilikenet in Awesome, Books, Brilliant words, Mutants, Uncategorizable.
In 2005, I wanted to blog my way to a beautiful career as a Serious Writer, blogging my way to Fame and fortune using Big Ideas nicked from the classics, like Hamlet. The following is the first and only few paragraphs of the never-completed novel, A Ghost in Elsinore which I put up on blogger.com and then promptly lost my password to it.
Fast forward to 2014, and my logins have all coalesced as Yahoo and Google bought everything, and now I only need to remember two passwords. Fortunately for all, my need to Write Serious Works has passed like a kidney stone.
"Woah. Horatio. Dude"
"Ah. You are awake." he said, like the wooden cut-out he was.
"Well, yeah. The slapping and the ice water will do that to all but the undead, Horatio. What are you doing in LA, and do you wanna drink?" I asked, knowing his response. Jesus, the inside of my head. I wondered briefly what I looked like on the outside.
"Thanks. " Big surprise. "I came for your father’s funeral." Bigger surprise. He hardly knew my old man.
"Really? I thought you came to see my uncle’s wedding." I reached for the office bottle of Old Smuggler that I usually kept in the bottom drawer, but it wasn’t altogether there, like me. I mean, it was nearly empty, also like me.
"Indeed. It followed hard upon."
"Nevermind. Listen, about your father…there has been talk."
"Jesus, Horatio, the poor bastard’s dead. Can’t anyone leave him in peace?"
"Possibly not…I mean, he may not be in peace."
"Ah, just a minute."
The tiny chorus of miners digging inside my skull had resumed their drilling, and the noise in there was probably loud enough for Horatio to hear, which I would have found embarrassing, but he had known me since college.