Tuesday, August 4, 2009


Just sent off the revised Louisiana novel to an agent who is way too cool. I hope she likes it, but at this point I am pretty realistic about how this stuff goes, so no heart pumping anxiety here.

And I'm a bit bored of writing about writing for the moment, and I'm thinking about adventures. My friend is stranded on Fogo Island due to a recent ferry fire, and another friend's comment reminded me that real life adventures, at least the ones I've had or witnessed, tend to come from being stranded. Take this monkey, for example. He's from Cahuita, Costa Rica, and he's from a colony of monkeys who are delightful, even when 'batin' overhead, as long as you are with friends and a tour guide.

But imagine if you are LEFT BEHIND because your sea sickness prevents you from taking a quick boat back to town, and you have to wait at the end of a jungly, yellow-snaky trail, for a guide to bring you back the long way. Now imagine that you have opened a cookie bar and suddenly the trees are full of hungry monkey bastards. THAT's adventure.

And that's what we did to Lucy. Left her with the monkeys.

What's that quote about adventure belonging to the unprepared?


Dji said...

She hid in the surf to eat her snack. The sea was her only defense.

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