Monday, January 20, 2014

Guts, Glory, & Galaxies

It pleases me to announce that I have finished story # 13 of a collection tentatively titled, Guts, Glory, and Galaxies.

Here is a sample of the final story:

Imagine the world beyond the treeline as a sea of smell crashing on the shore of my nose. Before smartification, that was "the great beyond" for me.

Smell is the grandest of senses. Even with you peoples' numb noses, smell reigns supreme. Kyle comes over for dinner and he goes wild over the smell. Sounds like he's got a bunny in his jaws. When Shelly's dressed up for him, he tells her how pretty she is (I'm pretty sure she're very pretty as humans go), but when he hugs her, he says, "Ummmm, you smell good!"

Smell rules. Did you know I can smell the doppler shift in jogger sweat as they run by?

You people are mostly visual. I have good eyes too. But smell! ...
Shelly has this big old radio that used to be her Dad's. On his birthday she drinks wine and fiddles the knobs, hunting signals from around the world. In between is static -- cosmic background radiation from the Big Bang -- talk about vast reception. Sometimes, especially at night, she'll pick up signals from Asia. Kamchatka, Korea, who knows? They're talking Russian with a Chinese accent. (If cats could talk they'd sound Chinese, I'm sure.)

Smell is like that. Some days I can get Benton Harbor loud and stinky. (We go there sometimes to visit her Aunt. I know BH's olfactory 'frequency'.) Some days I get smells from places I know are very far away. Like those radio signals from Russia or Swaziland. You know it's more than static, you know it's the smell of another animal far far away, but you don't understand anything beyond that. Sometimes I get smells that I know are extremely old. Mostly in summer, when the wind blows straight down from the Arctic over the frozen Great Lakes. I think it's stuff frozen in the last Ice Age melting from global warming. Ancient mastodon musk?

Below is a very rough first draft template of its book cover:

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