The other day at work I watched the raindrops saturating my sixth floor office park window and my mind locked onto a terrifying thought: once upon a while ago I knew sufficient math voodoo to calculate the number of drops that would fall to the sill in any given minute of normal earth time. (Come to think of it, I could most likely do it in Star Wars time also, insert planet of choice). I almost had a seizure. Instead I went to get more coffee, and spent the break trying to capture book two in high concept. I should have stuck to counting raindrops.
Anyway, I was down at Chiller theater about a month ago with Tim and a few of his friends. They finally have a decent venue, with space enough to actually shop, and air flow enough that you don’t pass out from anoxia five minutes after entering one of the vendor rooms: so I got into the spirit and dropped cash. I scored this sweet Army of Darkness T shirt “Trapped in time. Surrounded by Evil. Low on Gas.” And there’s Ash with chainsaw. Later that day I found an “S-Mart Manager” badge (Complete with ‘shop smart, shop s mart’). I have that hung up on my white board, which now has a log line that reads “Boba Fett Says:” followed by absurd quotes. Beneath it are all the tasks I must complete or the universe as we know it will cease to exist. Everyone keeps asking me what the ID badge means. How can I even begin to explain? Getting Boba Fett across was a difficult enough process (Except for my two geeks who ‘get’ it, and never cross lines with me. They are both wannabe Jedi Padawans, and the affiliation with the infamous Fett on my part is not lost on them.) No one asks me about the little plastic man in the space costume that sits on my desk, or the picture of same ‘little plastic man’. The badge is far more interesting. I just tell everyone who asks that S-Mart is my golden parachute.
If only I had a handy high concept description.