I call it that because the following little gem is pretty much an example of everyone crowding into one head. Mine. I found it while clearing out the folder containing all the detritus snapshots, cuts, crit and copies of my latest submitted MS. Now that it is officially off on it's first foray out into the wide world of publishing and gazing all hopeful-eyed at it's first acquiring editor, as I do with all my stories, I went in to clean up it's old room on my hard drive. You would not believe some of the stuff I found in there This MS has some...interesting shit stashed away in the depths of it's overflowing file folder. And I'm not talking crumb-filled empty pizza boxes or baggies of the good stuff, either. I'm talking about some strange-ass shit that came out of my brain while I was in the throws of OMG-I-can't-write-this-story-what-the-hell-was-I-thinking.
So, how about a conversation between what appears to be me and Stanley, one of the four main characters in the book (he's a music agent who has handled some really big-name country and western mega stars, including his ex-wife's career, and his best friend's career. I wanted to know what was in his head, I guess, because he did go through that really awkward teen-age stage where he wouldn't open his mouth to say boo to me other than to tell me he was bored or that he wanted the car keys to abscond from the story entirely)
M: First song you remember you couldn’t get enough of?
S: The highwaymen. No. Pancho and Lefty, when I was bout nine. Wasn’t till I was more like fifteen, I knew those two were doing the nasty.
M: So, you’re a fan of Old School? Willie Nelson and Kris?
S: Yea. Mostly because Vance and I, we grew up on that shit.
M: You and Vance.
S: I thought we were here to talk about music.
M: I suppose we can talk about music, then. When did you start playing?
S: *big sigh* Let’s see….maybe…around nine or ten? Vance was already onto his second guitar. I played along on his castoff. He taught me my first chords.
M: He must have taught you a lot of things.
S: *shrugs* sure.
Me: “Sure”? That’s it?
S: Music, remember?
M: Right. Sure. Okay…did you ever play in a band?
S: Well yeah. All through high school. I played guitar or bass. We had a girl drummer, and this skinny little mouse of a kid on keyboards. Kerry. He plays for *big famous band* now. Vance was out front, of course.
M: Of course. Did you get Kerry his gig, too?
S: Nah. He was shy, but wicked talented. Plus, he always had his shit together, you know? He didn’t need me. In fact, he pointed me in the direction of Vance’s first band members. Introduced us after he left high school to tour. We were in senior year when I started booking us real gigs. Ones that actually paid for themselves and left a bit of cash in our pockets, besides.
M: So Vance was your first.
M: First client. He was the first artist you managed.
S: Yeah. I was dating Sherie by then.
M: Sherie. She’s one half of Sky Daughters.
S: Yes, she is.
M: With Nancy Tompson.
S: *frowning* Yes.
M: They’re good. I like their sound. Ballsy, for a couple of chicks. Even more so for a chick couple. How did that happen?
S: Geez, you’re a bitch.
M: Yes. Answer the question.
S: It isn’t a secret. Sherie was good on her own, but too mellow for real mass appeal. She needed a brighter voice to counter hers, and someone to be the front man. But she didn’t get along with any of the guys we auditioned. Or, probably more like she intimidated the hell out of most of them. She’s like that.
M: But not you
S: *grinning* No. Not me. I called her on her brooding crap fests. She didn’t pull that with me for long. When I finally got her to smile…*trails off*
M: Gonner, were you?
S: Yeah. Guess I was. Even quit Vance for a while.
Me: *raised eyebrows*
S: Vance’s band, Quit the band. I quit Vance’s band. Still found them gigs, but I was pretty into her, there for a year or two.
M: Until you found Nancy.
S: *deep sigh* No. Even after I found Nancy. I was still into her. She was just more into Nance than me.
M: That still hurts.
S: Will you get out of my head!
M: Doing my job, here, buddy. If you don’t tell me what’s going on with you, I cannot make this happen, and I’m going to have to make shit up. And believe me, I can probably make up way worse than what actually ever happened to you.
S: Well, maybe you’ll have to, because nothing is going on with me.
M: You keep letting Vance fuck you silly. Why is that?
S: I thought we were not going to talk about him.
M: I lied.
S: I didn’t. You wanted to know about my career.
M: Your career is boring-ass shit. You manage bands. You make stars. I get all that. Big wow. You fuck your best friend regularly, even though you *claim* there is no relationship there, and you get horny like a sixteen-yr-old virgin every time you hear Damian’s voice. *That* is my story, and I want it.
S: You’re like the worst paparattzzi ever!
M: You going to smash my camera and break my nose? Or are you going to tell me what I want to know?
So, technically, he never did come clean about why he let his best friend have his way with him so often, but he did, eventually, give in to his crush on the goth rocker boy, Damian, and the rest, as they say, is history. So now all we have to do is fix up the old room, dust out the cobwebs and move the next story in. Right now, I have Skate and Denny from Rainbow Alley and a new singer, Coby Birmingham vying for the good room. Not sure who's gonna come out on top, though Coby is slated to move out by the middle of next month, so looks like I have my work cut out for me. Wish me luck!