Unicorns, unicorns, unicorns. Lamas.

#1.

Salesclerk: You give these away as gifts, don’t you? I saw you in here last week buying some.

Man: Er. Actually I seem to collect them. I just love Moleskines. I can’t write fast enough to fill them up and they accumulate.

Salesclerk: Okay.

#2.

Girl: What’s that?

Man: [Sees group of 2-3 cars parked off the road, beside a large van. The rear doors of the van are open, revealing several tanks, one of which is open and emitting fog. Several men in their forties populate the scene.] Looks like a bovine sperm transaction to me.

Girl: Uh.

Man: They keep it in those tanks in liquid nitrogen. That’s what’s making the fog. What else would middle-aged guys be standing around doing this early in the morning, but buying bovine sperm?

Girl: Okay.

Man: Can you imagine? It’s someone’s job to extract bull semen?

Girl: [Leans back, looks at man, settles in] Okay.

Man: I wonder what it’s called. Bovine sperm extraction technician? And how is it done, exactly? Do they like have to wear a cow mask? Or… ew.

Girl: Heh.

Man: Hey, I have an idea for the mystery you have to write for your English test. They’re at Smith Mansion, right? Dinner party. Dessert is tapioca pudding? All their rich friends, right? Only the cook was a bovine sperm thief. Prize-winning bull, worth millions. And the police raid his kitchen, but all they find is tapioca pudding because he switched it. And the Smiths’ rich friends destroyed the evidence.

Girl: Okay.

Man: And somebody kills someone for some rea… ew. Now I have to think of something nice. Unicorns. Rainbows. Unicorns, unicorns, unicorns.

Girl: Lamas.

Girl: I forgot the word ‘suddenly’ yesterday.

Man: When I forget a word, I just use a different word with the same meaning. Or with a different meaning.

Man: I’m trying to think of a story for kids about a summer vacation.

Girl: They come to a town, but it’s abandoned. Everyone has locked themselves in their houses because a serial killer is on the loose. And they get attacked by the killer.

Man: Er. That might be too exciting for this market.

Man: AND THE KILLER IS KILLING EVERYONE BECAUSE HE’S UPSET OVER SOME BAD TAPIOCA PUDDING!!!

Man: You can use that on your English test today. You have my permission.

Girl: Unicorns.

Man: Lamas.

Stream of consciousness

I was on my way to a nearby park, wandering along the sidewalk with my nose in this old journal I have had in my pocket for years, ready to receive any brilliant thoughts I should have. It is a small Moleskine, apparently a lifetime supply based on the number of brilliant thoughts I have written into it so far. I did jot down a couple ideas recently, and when I checked to see what I had written previously, it was an idea about the possible form this very novel could take, written in October 2006; the idea would solve a few problems I am currently facing with the story, and should make the job of writing it a lot more fluent. I hadn’t realized I had been carrying this story around in my head for so long, but when I stop to think about it, it’s been around nine years since I had the original dream that lies at its center. So instead of continuing my walk, I ran back to my PC to blog about it.