Sunday, February 27, 2011

An Interview with the Author.

...Asked about the source material for his "blog posts" as he calls them, the infamous writer and society darling Eric Martindale said, "I guess it's the profound moments found in everyday life that strike me." Martindale takes another sip of his jasmine green tea and adjusts his monocle, an accessory he has inexplicably brought back into style.

"Just the other day, for example, I made a really good sandwich --- I mean a world-stopper of a lunch --- and I thought 'Hey, this is a story that needs to be told.'"

Through the open window I hear activity in the courtyard three stories below his apartment, which overlooks the trendy 3rd Arrondissement. Seeing the troupe of journalists and photographers arrive this morning a crowd had gathered, hoping for a look at Paris's favorite ex-pat.

"It's that kind of stuff that nobody, I mean nobody in the world, writes about. Or perhaps even understands the importance of caring about. For example one of the kids shit his pants last week. I wrote 20 carefully-crafted paragraphs on this poignant moment, the still frame in a living allegory of modern life. Nothing but silence from the critics." Martindale, however, settles comfortably into the role of misunderstood genius.

Quick with a tortured pose, staring intently at a blank page in his Moleskine for example, the lines in his brow like the battle scars of countless hours spent waiting for inspiration, waiting as the specter of human history's untold chapters whisper at his shoulder, begging to be born, we see a premonition of countless book-jacket photos to come. The world waits.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

God, I love it Eric, satire peppered with the real truths of life,
Mom

DB Stewart said...

Dude. Does this mean you'd rather not read about how my son and I cleaned his room? I understand. And I'll try to be more deep. But then I'll forget again and continue being inane. *sighs*

Elly Lou said...

This is my favorite thing you've written ever. I laughed so hard I started coughing and then I piddled a little. So that part wasn't great but everything else? Gold stars. With furrowed brows and everything.

E.C. Hayward said...

Smiles all around! It was nothing, really, besides being forged in the smithy of my soul that is...

Anonymous said...

Why, it wouldn't surprise me to look up to your balcony and see you taking tea with Martin Amis!
Never underestimate the literary and comedic worth of someone crapping their pants. You must mine the gold nuggets where you find them.

E.C. Hayward said...

Please share all the details of your son's room cleaning. I always do.

You know someone who shits gold nuggets???