From the Engine Room

his post is the 200th for the Little Engine which first pulled out of the station in December 2007. Started as a way of publicly shaming myself to consistently make progress on whatever literary project I was working on at the time, the Engine continues to chug along allowing me to think through stories, characters, approaches and to push forward.

Every once in a while I check out the Engine's stats. Lately, a few numbers have caught my eye. First, readership is up about 33%. I assume this is either the result of worthy reading, cleverly placed hyperlinks and labels on my part...or what we may refer to as the "Pre-Date Internet Creep Check." Thank you, ladies.

Second, the Engine consistently gets readers from Russia. The Engine's most popular post since it's inception? A piece on Chinese drinking songs. I have reason to believe that the two are directly related.

Third, how do folks find the Engine? More often than not they search my name. There are some, though, who have searched my name + chapstick + poem. This is a very specific search by people who are most likely up to no good; probably even less good than the Russians. I know what they're looking for, but unfortunately for them, it has never appeared in this blog. And, apparently, anywhere else on the internets. Till now.

Here now, from A Midas Spring (2005), the answer to "my name + chapstick + poem", "I'd Smile More, But I Lost My Chapstick":

I'd smile more,
but I lost my chapstick.
I'd say more,
but the corners of my lips are cracked.
I am at the mercy
of tubed petroleum.

Glasses of milk prove deficient
and pacifiers socially so.
Lollipops are a viable alternative.
Your kiss may only add salt to this wound.

I can learn sign language
or I can gesticulate my way through.
But neither
bring the fluency
of a well-greased grin.

For those interested in the beats put down the night 'Chapstick' premiered in the East Village, peep DJ Sleep.

Project Updates: Cookie-Wise Pablo got a second round of sketches which I'll post soon with content and the Any Color You Want screenplay chugs along as it nears its October 31st deadline. All in all, progress.

The Importance of Tangible Nouns

I got a little excited the other day about beer truck murals, beer bottle labels and chapstick. Here's why. These tangible nouns give me flexibility. First, they can change over time. Murals change with ad campaigns, personal choice or simply the seasons. Labels start on bottles, but can be peeled off. Their designs also change. Chapstick is new one day and all used up later on. They also allow me to convey an idea without saying it directly.

Edgar Watson Howe once said, "A good scare is worth more to a man than good advice." I'd wager that most of us don't take advice unless we ask for it. In this case, no one has asked for my advice. No one has asked me to write this book (or any book) providing advice or counsel on anything. But I've got a story to tell and some would say it has a moral. How then do I give advice to those who haven't asked for it? Well, I could take Howe's advice and provide a good scare. To a certain extent, I see that happening in The Beer Flower Limited (The Girl Who Cried L-v-). But more traditionally, in fiction circles, writers use symbols. In this case, I've got my tangible nouns.

That being said, what I may wish to be a symbol for failure or l-v- may be understood for something completely different, if it's understood at all.

Of Beer Trucks, Bottle Labels and Chapstick

While I'm still working on the broad strokes of The Beer Flower Limited (The Girl Who Cried L-v-), I have already come up with two to three touches that I look forward to working into the greater picture. In Any Color You Want, it was the Car Alarm Symphony. This time I'm going to play with beer truck murals, beer bottle labels and chapstick.

And for those of you familiar with A Midas Spring, yes, that chapstick.