Friday, November 23, 2007

Long time no write!

Okay, I confess. I'm only here because I can't get past the first part of Chapter 2. In fact Chapter 2 as a whole is starting to annoy me mightily, so... anything to stay away from it, including downloading Corel Paintshop Pro and trying every single effect in it, fiddling with my Facebook profile, digging up the blog I haven't touched in more than a year... blaaaah.

Here's the first paragraph of Chapter 2:

I can’t get used to this global warming thing. It’s December 23 and it’s raining. Raining! In Saint-François du Fort-Courant! I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when I drove into town for some last-minute errands this morning. The red and green tinsel over First Avenue is dripping and drooping like the ghost of last year’s hangover, the inflatable snowman in front of City Hall is doubled over like he just got kicked in the guts, and the Nativity scene in front of the church looks somebody got the baby Jesus mixed up with little Moses cast adrift on the Nile. The angel is twisting in the rain above the manger like he forgot his glasses in Heaven, one of the sheep is lying on its back on the sodden lawn with all four legs sticking straight up, and the Virgin Mary has fallen on her face in three inches of water. I’m not ruling out suicide. She’s been out there since the day after Halloween, poor dear, because even the church seems to have caught some Pavlovian reflex from the Walmart in Rapide-Bleu. The styrofoam tombstones make way for the singing Santas, and two days later the church puts away the harvest display to dig out St.Joseph and the Three Wise Men. They’ve been standing ankle-deep in cold water for seven weeks now, and you can tell they’re just as fed up as the rest of us with the carolling. Personally I’ve been rediscovering Iggy Pop and the Sex Pistols. It goes better with the general ambience.

After that there's a conversation between Francis and his son. It's supposed to be light, it's supposed to be fun, it's supposed to lead smoothly into the next part about the black swans in 1961, but the conversation keeps sliding into the dreadfully serious.

Hopefully I'll crack that nut this weekend.