Sanity, Sobriety, and Russian Roulette

Life can become insane.

I’m not speaking in hyperbole. I’m not speaking to the mental health of life, either. That’s not the kind of insane I’m talking about.

Alcoholics sometimes define insanity as ‘doing something over and over but expecting different results.’ Like binge drinking long enough to forget about life for a little bit, expecting a black out to fix the things that are broken. That’s why their second step has them believing in a ‘higher power’ that will restore their life to sanity.

Let’s play a game.

How many days do you find yourself spending half your waking hours sitting behind a television?

How many of those days do you spend doing what you really want to do?

How often is what you think you really want, really what you need?

We get caught up in routine, working jobs we don’t like to make money for things we don’t want. Somehow we think this life will make itself better. Maybe if we work long enough or make enough money. We get caught doing the same things over and over expecting this life we hardly live to get better. Life can become insane.

I imagine Jerry sitting across a table from Derek, head in his hands, listening to Derek talk about his life. Derek is incapable of living his life because he can’t remember it. Jerry realizes that Derek reached a point in which he is no longer living anymore. He’s just waiting to die.

“Let’s play a game,” Jerry will say, and pull out a revolver out from under the table.

Derek will ask “Are you insane?” And Jerry will reply “No, no, but by definition, YOU are.”

He’ll put one bullet into the revolver and he’ll tell Derek, “We avoid risks in life so we can make it safely to death. We have to take those risks and do something different to restore our lives to sanity.”

Jerry will spin the gun closed and hand it to Derek, and he’ll tell him, “Let’s get sober.”

Facebook Friends, Crossed Fingers, and Brass Knuckles

Jerry Cassidy has 470+ friends and counting on Facebook, which means he already has more friends than I do in just a few short weeks. I don’t know whether to be excited or depressed because of this. The question is getting asked, but for now I’ve just been deflecting. I want this viral campaign to grow organically, I want people to discover the answer for themselves before I start the spoon-feeding, and I don’t need it burning out before I get started.

I just submitted Jokers Wild into a short story competition. I’m proud of this piece. It manages, in my own biased opinion, to pack a solid punch, get a little dirty, and showcase my own brand of writing and style, all in a matter of eleven hundred words. I’m hoping to someday find a publication that will put this sucker in print, but maybe I’ll get lucky and make some money while I’m at it right now from this contest. Fingers crossed.

I’m also working on a solid pitch to add to the “About” section to hook all you potential readers and agents out there. This is not a simple story. And it’s not about vampires or werewolves. So I’m trying to melt this badass down into a couple brass sentences that can wrap around a white-knuckled sandwich and knock your teeth out. Literally speaking, of course.