Now What?

I read early in the morning, even on Sundays: just me, coffee, a bowl of oatmeal and at least one book. This morning I read from Joe Hill's collection 20th Century Ghosts. It's a collection I should have bought a couple of years ago at World Fantasy when the first edition cardcover was running for $50. The trade paperback(pictured above) was selling at the dealer table for $30, too much for a trade paperback, I thought. (If you want either now, the trade paperback will run you about $65; the first edition hardcover---I don't even like to guess.) I knew I was a dope to pass up either edition, but I figured someone would buy the reprint rights and sure enough, William Morrow did.

So I was sitting there this morning, reading the third story in the collection, "Pop Art," about a normal boy and his no-so-normal friend Arthur. You see, Arthur is inflatable.

No, Art's not a doll, he's real. And no, it's not a comedy, although there are some moments of humor. There are also moments of real terror. It's about friendship, loyalty, courage...I know I'm making it sound like an installment of The ABC After-School Special, but it's far beyond that. It's an incredible story.

Normally, after I read an incredible story (especially after breakfast), I have the burning desire to either read another story (usually in the collection or anthology I'm reading) or to go write something. I knew I couldn't write anything after reading "Pop Art," at least not for several hours. That would be an exercise in frustration. I also knew I couldn't read anything else in the collection, not immediately. That story is so perfect, I couldn't spoil it or the next story by continuing on ahead.

I didn't know what to do.

I still don't.

The oatmeal's gone. The coffee's gone. And I'm still sitting here.

I'll think of something....