This week has been entirely consumed with the writing of Suite Scarlett 2. As I have mentioned many times before, the final stages of working on a book are not always the most elegant or smooth. There comes a point where you (“you” meaning “I” in this case) go on a little vacation from realityland. When you’ve been by yourself in a room in front of a computer screen making up stuff since what feels like the beginning of time . . . things start to wobble around the edges.

England isn’t helping with this.

I mean, when I walked to the High Street today to get a hot beverage, I was immediately confronted by a woman wearing a white ballgown and a tiara who was playing “New York, New York” on the clarinet. I think it was for charity, but still, that kind of thing is not good for the mind when it is already a little soft and past the sell-by date.

Later, I went to the gym for a little physical activity, because regular physical activity is of critical importance during this period. There is a very nice gym here, right on the other side of a large park. I was walking back home after getting my exercise when I saw MY RABBITS.

I don’t think I’ve told you about the rabbits.

There is a wooded area around the park where apparently ALL RABBITS IN THE WORLD COME FROM. The entire lawn is carpeted in them. Like, if you wanted to walk all the way from the gym to the woods (which is kind of far), you could do it just by stepping from rabbit to rabbit, like you were playing Frogger. Not that I recommend walking on rabbits. The only thing you should walk on is a carefully marked path or SUNSHINE.

Anyway, there are about—I don’t know—one million-billion-trillion (approx.) rabbits between the gym and the woods, and at the time, there was just one me. The only human. But as I came down the path, all the rabbits stopped moving. They stopped hopping and twitching and nibbling and waited to see what I was about to do next.

Maybe it’s because I live in New York City and the only place I see a rabbit is on a menu—but seeing all the rabbits made me go a little mad with power, like I was the Rabbit God. If I so much as leaned forward, the rabbits would collectively twitch. If I took a step back, their ears would move. Everything these rabbits did depended on me. So when I finally had to continue down the path, I caused a RABBIT STAMPEDE that I think could be felt for miles.

But when I got to the end of the path . . . I hid. I kept watch as all the rabbits came back out. And then I did it again. I kept doing this until some other people came down the path and I couldn’t get away with it anymore.

So I came back to my desk and sat down with a happy smile on my face, because, you know . . . rabbits . . . and I stared at the computer. Oscar came by and said, “How is the book coming?” And I said, “I CONTROL ALL THE RABBITS.” And he said, “I will leave you alone for a little while.”

Your sequel is coming! I have my rabbits to help me.

Just when I was thinking that no one was as unhinged as me, I started reading some of your e-mail, in which many of you have communicated the feeling that you are ALSO going a little funny in the revolving restaurant upstairs. Don’t be disturbed by this, friends. It happens to all of us.

And in the interest of public service, I wanted to put forth a few cases of people who may have taken the journey a little longer and farther than you or I have.

THE WOMAN WHO MARRIED THE BERLIN WALL

In 1979, a Swedish woman married the Berlin Wall in a small ceremony attended by a few friends and family members. She took her husband’s name.

Now, I know what you are probably thinking, because I thought it too . . .that invite is hotter than the one to Bella and Edward’s wedding. Vampire wedding, okay, but . . . WOMAN AND BERLIN WALL. That’s the one you need to go to. If I got that invitation, I would be happy for the rest of my rabbit-infested life.

And people did go, apparently.

Of course, things hit an understandable snag in 1989 when the Wall was torn down, opening the border between East and West Berlin. The woman remains married to the wall, but has transferred her affections to a nearby garden fence. This is the fence:

Here, you can listen to some very relaxing music and find out why the Berlin Wall is the “best and sexiest wall that every existed.” There is also this page of sexy fences.

DAD PROM

While not quite the same as marrying the Berlin Wall, I have few issues with The Dad Prom, which is not actually called The Dad Prom, but the “Father-Daughter Purity Ball,” which is actually a little worse.

I like my dad a lot, but I really can’t imagine anything I would have wanted to go to less than a formal dance in which he pledged to protect my purity under a sword and a seven foot cross. I would much rather be listening to Belgian techno, arranging my safety manual collection, sewing silver sequins to my outfit for the opening of the Abba museum . . . or really, anything else. Anything.

Don’t get me wrong . . . faith plays an important role in many lives. I know this. I just have to wonder about any event in which all the girls are herded together to get the message that sex is dirty and that we require protection by a male figure with a big, pointy object. And then be made to do the Electric Slide.

When my dad wanted to take me out for some bonding, we would go to used car dealerships and mess with the salesmens’ heads. We would go around looking at all the cars, and we would stop and ask to see the trunk on one. I would climb in and say, “Yeah, I think we can get three or four packages in here if we bend them up right. And we can ditch this one easy in the river. It’s one of those old, heavy cars. It won’t float up like the last one. Now close it and walk away a few feet and see if you can hear me scream.”

Oh, the good times we used to have! We made our own fun!

All I’m saying is . . . the spectrum of experience is broader than we think, and crazy is a very relative term.

But if you are needing an instant dose of sanity RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND, I remain at your service. Watch this—possibly the best song by the greatest band in the world. If you are not feeling better by the end of this, I’ll send the rabbits.

YOU’RE WELCOME!

TODAY’S RANDOM WINNER:

. . . is AMY from ENGLAND.

Another book to another commenter today!

Also, have you entered the SUITE SCARLETT SWEEPSTAKES yet? The banner is right there on the side! CLICK IT!

Posted: Tuesday, June 10th, 2008 @ 1:07 am
Categories: Suite Scarlett, crazy, my dad, rabbits.
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