I turned 43 on Valentine’s Day. Since then, I’ve discovered that
Steve Gerber, creator and scribe for Marvel Comics, died at age 60. His masterwork was Howard The Duck, 1970s subversion disguised as a sarcastic, cigar-chomping, down-on-his-luck duck who lived in Cleveland, Ohio. Sadly, you won’t find stuff like that dropped in the laps of kids everywhere today like it was back then. (Historians, please note: read Gerber’s run if you can find it; skip the horrible movie. George Lucas should have been shot for that.)
My library is actually a medicine cabinet. See, as happened when I get a year older at times, a low level depression settled in. I thought about writing to Dear Abby for advice, but then stumbled across the Financial Times Book Doctor. A few chapters of Dickens or The Velveteen Rabbit, and I should be as good as new.
I have a supportive, psychic wife. I’ve been struggling through a short story for months now and it’s become like climbing a sheer surface with oily hands. As a birthday gift, my wife hands me The Writer’s Toolbox. I’m usually not one for tricks and gimmicks when it comes to writing “inspiration” but who knows what I need? I guess my wife does.
Hey, look. A few more hours until next week. Wonder what it will bring?