Note: the following is the first chapter of what was a novel-in-progress. It is the transcript of a reading by me, Ivan Von Noshrilgram Sr - celebrated philosopher-botanist, wild game hunter, exotic animal trainer, extinguished firewalker, writer and humanitarian lecturer, at the East 75 Street Community Centre, in New York City, sometime in September 1972. Please pardon any indecisiveness that may seem to exist in terms of theme, character, style, storyline, genre or raison d’être. (As an aspiring writer, these were elements I found most challenging.) Oh, and also pace. Pace, and tone... and maybe direction? Really, it was a work-in-progress; but a very scary one. It’s to be published by Doubleday in the spring of next year. Well, maybe. They don’t seem to be answering their phone. …Perhaps they’ve relocated?
Read MoreYou know, sometime you might leave your hand on a hot element; or step out into a hailstorm completely naked; or insist on eating a solid, yet indigestible, object. Like a spatula. Whatever diversion you choose, once you stop, a distinct happiness always pops up. Even serenity.
Read MoreMs Knightley put her finger on the red record button of a large, ancient tape recorder. (Ultimately, I watched her use both hands to activate the record feature of the tape deck. It made me smile.)
She stared at me blankly, “…Your name?”
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