Monday, February 18, 2008
No more Tea for Todd
I have a dark secret to reveal...
I have an addiction. I've had it for four years now. It started innocently enough. One late night, I needed something to keep me up. I'd experimented with the pink pills, those things had me wired for hours, but as soon as they wore off I was stricken by a bout of drowsiness which was less than forgiving. I could have gotten a concussion, the way my head slammed down on the desk as I passed out. There was always the Columbian stuff, black and bitter like poison, but I would have rather given someone an enema with my mouth than drink that stuff again, and besides, whenever I had it, my sweat would make me smell like a teacher's lounge, and I would be as spry as a spring chicken. So it came down to Substance T, an upper which wouldn't send a jolt through my system, and which wouldn't cause a shock when wearing off. Also, the taste of it is agreeable. So I snagged a baggie of the stuff, and sooner than I knew it, I was addicted to tea.
Earl Gray, orange pekoe, green, English breakfast, Chai, peppermint, fever grass, hell, even chamomile. I started with one cup in the morning, one at night. Then it escalated to three, then four, then five... then I would just make a cup at any given moment. Tea, tea, tea, tea, tea, tea, tea, tea, TEA! After a while, drinking it didn't even deliver the effect I wanted. I could have had hot water in a cup and felt the same thing. I just needed my tea. But recently, I've noticed that I've been feeling more tired, and of course, my head's full of clouds. I can live with the fact that I almost always have my head in the clouds, deep down, I like that fact. But I can't bear having the clouds in my head, having them constipate my thoughts. So I decided to come off of that vice for a while.
I've gone a whopping five days without even glancing a bag of the stuff, and I feel more at peace. Not some sort of New-Age-ish zen thing where I'm at peace with the world. I will always be a loathsome and cynical son of a bitch, but I am more... contained with it once again. I've been able to channel it into the [Obscure Opus] and now the draft crackles with all the piss and vinegar it did when I started it that aeon ago. I realized a few problems with the "plot" of the book and have thus, added a few more chapters. It's not much of a plotty book, as it is, I'm not a person who craves hyper-kinetic, break-neck plots to be thrilled by a story. I prefer slow paced character development, quirkiness, introspection, and outre philosophical musings, which is what the book's been rife with. But even some of the best books for pulling such feats off still manage to keep readers at the edges of their seats to some extent. After finally deciding to finish Iain Banks' Complicity, and realizing how gripping and thrilling the final act of it was, all while still being stark and thought provoking (though a bit too aggressively left wing), I realized I could use a lot more pacing. Not to say [Obscure Opus] didn't have a climax. It's always had one, which is, at least, I hope, a real mindfuck, though that will be up to the readers to decide. But the way the climax ensues, things just start to pick up instantaneously. I realize I'll have to weave a lot of tension and events which help lead to the climax in a better, and more steady pace.
If I'd been guzzling tea, God and Hans the Aryan Easter Bunny only know how long it would take me to figure that out.
Anyway...
See everyone in hell!
