Days like these

The night before last, thinking about my novel, which is completely Not There (not on paper, nor in my head in any coherent fashion, not even, it seems, emerging from the world around me), I got an idea for a scene. It seemed a nice connection - it seemed to be the link between the short story I have been, for the last couple of months, occasionally attempting to write, and something bigger. I'm not a short story writer, I haven't been for six or seven years now: all my attempts at short fiction seem to be preparations or sketches for something larger, no matter how much I desire the sense of immediate satisfaction from completing a well-crafted short story.

My idea concerned a seagull that had swallowed a razor blade, falling from the sky and injuring someone. This felt right; the next night (last night) I wrote one and a half thousand words of this, sinking into the words and the self-hypnosis like I haven't in quite a while. I finished, feeling satisfied.

Then, later, the absurdity of it struck me. A seagull with a razor blade lodged in its throat, falling from the sky and hitting somebody? How silly, how far-fetched... I wanted to write something like the opening to Ian McEwan's Enduring Love, something like the Balloon Scene. Instead I wrote the Lead Balloon Scene. The Dead Seagull Scene. Jesus. Still, I haven't looked back over it, it could be salvagable.

This year looks full of uncertainty at this point. I think I may end up living quite an ascetic existence. A certain amount of asceticism would be nice, I think - it feels appealing, after the pointless and unfulfilling busyness of last year - but it might be lonely.

I had the day off today and caught a bus into the city, naively assuming that nobody really celebrates Australia Day. What a mistake - the city was full of patriotic crowds. I wanted to go to the museum and have a walk around, but Hyde Park was full of some strange sort of pointless festival - that is, it had the crowds, and the overpriced foodstands, and the queues for the portaloos, and the generally horrific air of patriotic celebration - but there was nothing happening, it seemed to me - no particular reason to congregate in that space. There were some music stages. Perhaps an Australian Idol celebrity was going to sing later, or something. There was a stage in front of the museum and some horrible nuevo-jazz band was bleeting away at top volume. I turned around and came back home.

The only thing that made it worthwhile: a moron on a skateboard was skating down the overcrowded George St footpath. He had a huge Australian flag draped around his neck like a cape, over his tank-top. He passed in front of a teenage goth girl, who shot him a look of pure amused derision. It filled me with such momentary delight.

posted by Nicholas @ 8:52 PM 8 comments

Google Twins

How is everybody's new year going? My New Year's Eve amd New Year's Day were demented fun, but since then the new year has been just like the old one, which isn't what I want.

The subject for today is Google Twins, or perhaps it's Googlegangers. The mysterious stranger on the other side of the world who shares your name, and who's ephemeric internet detritus can be observed and followed. One needs a reasonably unique name for this, but I know a few people who have Google twins - Tahlia's is a model in Victoria, while Vanessa's, somewhat mortifyingly, writes really terrible poetry. Here's mine - and I hope he won't mind me writing about him; I think he's aware of my existence, as I am of his. Presenting, 2nd Lieutenant Colonel Nick Carvan, of the United States Air Force Auxiliary Civil Air Patrol.

Over the last few years, I have watched with something akin to pride as my Google twin's references have continued to increase, usually in joky Civilian Air Patrol newsletters. He seems to be doing well for himself in his chosen field:

"Cadet Carvan joined CAP in June 2000 and since then has received a Commander’s Commendation and SAR/Find Ribbon among other awards. He has attended PJOC, APJOC and COS. He runs squadron ES training exercises and is qualified in high angle rescue. Cadet Carvan plans to pursue a degree in Emergency Medical Science, becoming a Paramedic. Following that he plans to enlist in the U.S. Army and serve in the Special Forces."

Admittedly, I think if we met each other we would probably not get on that well - he seems to be a godfearing but solid US military boy, keen to defend his country. At a meeting early last year (at which my Google twin received the North Central Region Commander Commendation), the meeting closed with a prayer, before Nick Carvan and a colleague "retired the colors", whatever that means. So I don't think we'd have much in common.

He probably couldn't run a second hand book business, but then, what do I know about high angle rescue? Nothing. If you're stuck, and need rescuing from a high angle, he's the Nick Carvan for you. I cannot think of any situation in which you would desperately need a bookseller.

Yes, he fascinates me, and though we have clearly chosen different paths for our shared name, I cannot help but feel some connection to him, some stake in his existence. I cheer him on from the sidelines, and wish him nothing but good health and safety.

Nick Carvan, if you should ever read this: my best wishes to you, and please continue to uphold our good name.

posted by Nicholas @ 11:43 PM 14 comments