Very well, if that is the way the winds are blowing, then let it not be said that I do not also blow. – “Diamond Joe” Quimby
Suicide is Painless, only my second attempt at flash fiction in my life is live now at Tribe’s groovy site. I’m trying to bring the place down from the inside.
Flash fiction is about all I’ve been able to pull off the last few days. In between 10 hour work days at the theatre and sleeping off the pain of lazy muscles, I’ve also managed to polish off Donkey Show and send it off to Hardluck Stories as well as polishing up and sending out another story. I really need to get back to work on the novel though.
I’m deep in the middle of my first official show at the theatre and its been much more fun than I imagined it would be. Friday and Saturday were the roughest because I was being used mostly as a roady and a grunt laborer. Saturday involved a lot of fear as well. I had to climb to the very top of the fly space (about six stories) and hang over the edge, without a rail, and load heavy weights to balance out the light racks.
Only slightly less creepy was going up in a wobbly cherry picker to focus and gel the lights on the house pipe. The rest of the time Ive been running light and sound cues and sitting around reading.
As I was pondering my situtaion, as I tend to do frequently, it occured to me that all but one or two of the people on stage who were working the same long hours as I was and doing much harder work than I was were there as volunteers. I was getting paid. I realized then that I have a very, very cool job.