Like I always say, when in doubt, steal from Lovecraft or Chandler. Just remember, it's entirely uninterested in any human concept, so don't take its actions personally.The brain, she is crunchy like the chip. I'm at the point where all I can think about is getting this done, finito, out of the way.
Two more illustrations from scratch, and then two of the first ones I did need fixing, now that I've developed my method. And in addition to the illustrations, there are seven decorative tailpieces and one of them needs to be redone.
But it's only a matter of days. I must be strong.
And then I can really sink my teeth into the novel... and start in on the outline for the next draft of volume two. But for the moment?
My brain, she is crunchy. Like the chip.
Ah, but it's band night. There will be beer and cigarettes and conversation, and I've found the last lines I need for the lyrics to Two-Fish Louie's Explanation, which means we can start developing the vocals. And we've started monkeying with When I Paint My Masterpiece. It's a nice simple one-four-five song, with a slow loping beat that's dead easy to jam to. I'll probably figure out a solid bass line for it eventually but right now I'm having a hoot just letting my fingers wander. And now I'm wandering.
Because the brain.
Crunchy.
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