Took a while to get going, but I churned out another 1500 words and have probably 500 more set up to go. The story is completely unfocused and I know I shouldn't be worried about that at this stage of the game, but I do. I have no idea what tone it's going to take, in reality. Vinnie's got a jokey, off-handed way of talking so it may still turn out farcical with humor of the midnight sort...or not.
Hm...I'm just remembering a sort of friend of mine named Vinnie. From college, though he was a couple years behind me. He was gorgeous, with a true Roman nose and well-formed body...and I always had the feeling he was a "maybe" kind of guy. I once pulled a nasty trick on him when he was in the school's infirmary with some kind of illness; I took him a copy of Stephen King's "The Stand" to read. It was only 900 pages of how a plague destroys civilization.
Another time, I drove up to Dallas with a buddy of mine to visit him while he was at his parents' home recuperating from a broken hip or pelvis, and we took him to see "Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles." He enjoyed getting out of the house, though it was hard to fit him into the car because of a cast that went from his waist down a leg to an ankle. I wondered how he was able to shit with that thing on but didn't ask.
Weird to remember that. What's interesting is, he wasn't really all that Italian, except by bloodline and then only half, I think. He was more Dallas upper-middle class, which is a sort of bloodline unto itself, while the Vinnie in this story is full-blood and living in Manhattan's Little Italy, his actual name being Vicenzo. Hm...is Vinnie really a nickname for that? Gotta check into this more.
What's fun is, he works in a pastry shop as a teenager, and learning about Italian pastries and cookies has made me want to try some zeppoli with cinnamon sugar on it. Just reading about it put ten pounds on me.
Hm...I'm just remembering a sort of friend of mine named Vinnie. From college, though he was a couple years behind me. He was gorgeous, with a true Roman nose and well-formed body...and I always had the feeling he was a "maybe" kind of guy. I once pulled a nasty trick on him when he was in the school's infirmary with some kind of illness; I took him a copy of Stephen King's "The Stand" to read. It was only 900 pages of how a plague destroys civilization.
Another time, I drove up to Dallas with a buddy of mine to visit him while he was at his parents' home recuperating from a broken hip or pelvis, and we took him to see "Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles." He enjoyed getting out of the house, though it was hard to fit him into the car because of a cast that went from his waist down a leg to an ankle. I wondered how he was able to shit with that thing on but didn't ask.
Weird to remember that. What's interesting is, he wasn't really all that Italian, except by bloodline and then only half, I think. He was more Dallas upper-middle class, which is a sort of bloodline unto itself, while the Vinnie in this story is full-blood and living in Manhattan's Little Italy, his actual name being Vicenzo. Hm...is Vinnie really a nickname for that? Gotta check into this more.
What's fun is, he works in a pastry shop as a teenager, and learning about Italian pastries and cookies has made me want to try some zeppoli with cinnamon sugar on it. Just reading about it put ten pounds on me.
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