Monday, February 19, 2007

This weekend I've been reading a horror novel about flowering vines that eat people. It's pretty good. On Saturday night I foolishly agreed to go to a birthday party for someone I didn't know; the birthday party was at nightclub. The nightclub blasted music at such volume that it was literally painful to stand near it.* I retreated to the coat check area and read the latest issue of The Missouri Review, which includes a diverting story called "The Shoe Soiler."

Sunday I just stayed in bed and wrote a story about Saddam Hussein.

*something's wrong with my right ear. it hurts and makes tcchh! tcchh! noises when things are too loud or when i yell.


trevor johnson said...

You write quickly.

Ian said...

My favorite part of loud nightclubs is when the sound reverberates along your ribs and you become aware of the essential hollowness of your thoracic cavity.

The tinnitus I can do without.

Ian said...

Oh, my overarching aspiration, by the way, is to get something published in The Missouri Review.

I'm curious--did you tuck this journal in your pocket to take to the nightclub, or did you happen upon a copy (strangely) while there?

NickAntosca said...

Trevor--I wrote this more quickly than usual.

Ian--I have subscriptions to many many literary magazines (mostly free subscriptions you get when entering their contests with entry fees) and in order to have something to read on the subway, I often grab random ones, read a story or two while riding, and then, if it becomes cumbersome to carry them once I've reached my destination, throw them away. This time I just happened to hang onto it...