2-4-2005 Why is it that there aren't any books(this includes the Bible) that are titled: "Everything is fine, I have nothing to say" ???
Could it be there is something wrong with being "okay"?
Okay, there is one book that sorta has a title like above.
Its: "I'm okay, you're okay."
But its really not a book about being "okay".
Its a psychology book about trying to be "okay".
What about the Pooh stories?
I thought the Pooh stories were sorta supposed to be about being "okay". Well, except Eeyore. He's having troubles, and being okay is not his best suit, he keeps losing his tail, floating down river without a paddle, and other Eeyore sorta adventures. So not even Pooh stories are safe.
So what would a book titled: "Everythings fine, I have nothing to say" be about. Maybe it could be a lie like most of the rest of the books. Like some of those mystery books that aren't really that mysterious. So and so lost someone, they got lost at Bloomies, a coat was missing, gee, where could they be? In the dressing room, knocked out by a stray light fixture. Maybe mugged by a fur coat. Or accosted by a loose belt and Looney Tunes tie. A mystery at Bloomies would have to be more fantastic than that. Say, like C.S. Lewis' "Lion, the witch, and the wardrobe".
A wardrobe at Bloomies starts gobbling people up. That could be exciting. Sherlock Holmes gets called in. Moriarity is not too far behind. That could get kinda interesting. All kinds of false leads, wierd locations, back allies, violent handbags, and so on. Way too much fun to qualify for our literary award for the book: "Everythings fine. . ."
Lets try again.
The main character is sitting on a beach in Cancune(my spelling), drinking Pena Colladas, and nothing much happens. Well, maybe sunburn, but the skin cancer won't start being a problem for 30 years later. Everything is fine. Just keep those Pena Collada coming!!! Critics go nuts. They love it. Different colored Pena Colladas get dropped off, the heroine's body keeps getting redder and redder, but she doesn't care. Everything is fine! Not even any irate ex-husband shows up. No cheating boyfriends. Nobody trying to steal her identity over the internet. No abductions at gun point. Nothing! A big fat ZERO, NADA!
"Each moment the blond bombshell, with big basongas, dreamed of living in Cancune her whole life. In fact, she was living her whole life in Cancune. She had even signed up for life extending medical technology so she wouldn't have to undergo the inconvenience of dying."
Okay, I stepped over the boundary on that last sentence. That was science fiction there. Stop that. Serious fiction cannot push the limits on technology. Hardly anyone has a microwave in most serious fiction stories. In fact, OSHA says that most characters in serious fiction are not capable of safely operating a hair dryer safely. They get electrocuted in the sink or the bath tub. Not good. Killing off your heroine within the first 50 pages of the book, won't make it to the Best Book Awards! !
Serious fiction often has automobiles are still stuck in the Model T period of history. Except Kurt Vonnegut's "Breakfast of Champions". There he has late 1960's Pontiacs and Buicks. But then, he pushes the envelope on technology, and all critics have been bribed to not bug him about that. So he is safe.
Okay, so our heroine is laying in the sun in Cancune, redder than a Christmas coat---NOPE. Thats too dangerous. Backup. She's got 50 SPF sunscreen on. No sunburn!
Then, Morrie, the Pena Collada delivery guy, brings out a beach umbrella. Now she's really safe.
Okay, shes not only safe, but she is not saying anything. She doesn't even say "Thank You." But she tips Morrie quite well. She's one of these grave digger types who has lots of spare change, and condos everywhere. Planes never crash for her. Maids wash her clothes. She works out everyday. Her colesterol level is in the safe zone. Her liver is fine. This babe has nothing to worry about. She's not even on Prozac.
I can't wait to read the book. Oh. The movie rights have all ready been sold. Steven Spielburg has big plans for the movie. It basically follows the plotline given above. Blis in Blisville. Life couldn't possibly be better for our girl. She's got it made.
The movie is about ten minutes long. But lots of popcorn, diet Coke, Dots, and so forth have been purchased. Business is good for the movie theatre business. There is no true ending to the film. It just fades to black. The credits roll. And people rush out to buy the book. Not only that, they buy lots of airplane tickets to Cancune!!! This helps the airline industry, and Spielburg, being the financial wizard that he is, owns stock in all the airlines that have routes to Cancune!!! I'm rushing out to buy some too.
See. So thats how I'm going to make my million, then buy a one way ticket to Cancune, and live on Pina Colladas for the rest of my non-ending life. Problem: In reality, I would get surroses(I love that word, I just butchered it) of the liver, skin cancers, gain a ton of pounds, my muscles would attrophy, and I would be really depressed not having anyone to talk to or make love too. Prozac and a hooker would be in order! So, dang, there is no such life, on this planet anyway, that even comes close to the title of our wonderful little book. New title: "How Jacky Onassis thought she had it made in the shade, but didn't". I'll hire Jacky Collins to write the book. Lots of steamy love scenes, broken relationships, lying, cheating, stealing, medical problems, near bankrupcies, blown up cruise ships. All the stuff we have come to expect from mainstream fiction. Oh, yeah, some bridge in Iowa. Jacky has to go visit that. And the biggest ball of twine. No ducktape. Thats too high tech.
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