Introducing Lou Festig

I might try my hand at fiction. Okay, really I'd be trying my fingers at it. I type these articles with my fingers, you know.

One could argue (it would be a short, pointless and boring argument) that this blog is already fiction.

Historical fiction maybe? That makes sense. When you write historical fiction, you're basically saying "I can't really think of anything interesting to write by myself, so I'm stealing from the exciting bits of history." In this case, my history.

Humourous fiction?

More like fiction looking for humour. Or fiction waiting for humour.

Waiting for Humour. Waiting for Godot. Genius.

I wonder what genre I'll cover. I was thinking I would write a bunch of genres on little pieces of paper and put them in a hat so I could pick one randomly.

 I foresee a problem with this strategy. When I go on the talk shows discussing my "book", I'll have trouble convincing people that the idea was inside me for many years and just had to get out.

Real novels come from deep inside the writer's brain and bones.

"You see these bruises on my chest, Mr. Letterman? These are from my wonderful idea beating me up from the inside, trying to get out."

Nope, completely random.

I got the idea of writing fiction from a dream I had last night. I was in the basement of the house I grew up in, and I was writing a novel.

All I had written in the dream was the name Lou Festig. I don't know much about him yet, other than he was the santa at a local strip mall every xmas. Festive Festig they called him.

Lou's nickname changed as quickly and painfully as one tears an old bandage off cut skin.

After a couple of hours in the santa sauce, he became Fetid Festig.

(ease up on the alliteration, will ya)

But under that fake belly of his, naturally, was a dark place.

Maybe I'll go in the opposite direction with this, my first book, since dark has been so done to death.

Lou Festig: Super nice guy by day. Even more wonderful as his alter ego…blah, blah.

Jekyll and…more Jekyll (cue bouncy, friendly music).

It was a strange feeling, waking up with such a strong urge to write this novel. I think maybe God wants, or needs me to write this book.

I'm glad he picked writing, as opposed to, say, building an ark. I've failed my boat licence exam three times.

Will you join me? Is your life boring and empty enough to follow the Festig tale?

Then keep an eye out for Lou Festig, coming to a strip mall near you.