It has occurred (what I like about old word-processing software is that it does not automatically correct the spelling for me; every time office 2007 does it to me I cringe, thinking, how am I going to learn to spell?) to me that some of the states of this union (unfortunate, but until one of the secessionist movements gets some real traction unchallengeable) have euphonious names that will make wonderful last names in stories. I have alluded to Joe Montana, but the states of Delaware, Kansas and Alaska are very promising as well. Texas, of course, is a good one for certain purposes, which makes me think that a first name like Houston, Dallas or even S. Antonio might come in handy. Dallas is so flashy; Houston sounds like a person with a large moustache; and S. Antonio might be a secret agent.
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One muses on these things because one has just come up with a really good name for the main character in a very interesting story one just started to write and which shows promise. I was listening to Cormack McCarthy for about twenty minutes and the peculiar habit of making all the scenery comment on every sentence of a conversation, as it seemed to me, struck me as eminently useful. The situation came to me in a flash: guy enters McDonald’s and asks for a double cheeseburger and is told they are sold out. Well, that is a fraught situation, as anybody can see, but I had no name for the fellow. The teenager at the register is named Greg and is not very vigilant. The manager is Rodriguez—the reader may never find this out, or any of the following: there is the short and round woman at the drive-through whose name is Patty, and then, of course, Miguel is in the grill along with Alejandro who is washing dishes in the back; there is another customer named Shaniqua and there may be another employee who is called Mac emptying the trash in the front of the store but whose actual name shall never be mentioned for the simple reason that nobody ever uses it except his grandma and the government. But the customer?
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Dunbar Wisconsin. I am not sure yet whether the last name will ever be mentioned. There is no need to mention it, really. It is just good to know as much as you can, sometimes. Dunbar is a strong, silent sounding name, you know? Dunbar, I believe, is on the side of some armored trucks, full of riches and whatnot. Dunbar might even be carrying a concealed weapon, by the sound of the name. But there is a certain helplessness that the strong, silent types often suggest. It is this last, I think, is going to be crucial for the story, because he is going to make the mistake of insisting on the double cheeseburger.
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I take irreverent notes at work. My irreverent notes sometimes have stories. These are notes of our meetings and sometimes meetings can be frustrating, and, as you know, give rise to certain bizarre expressions and turns of thought. I send my notes to my manager and he, in turn, publishes them via email to such as he chooses. They are pretty well acclaimed, doom laced notes being what my colleagues like to read. It also happens to be the case that the CEO of my company has the same first name as I do. As a result of Outlook being so helpful when one starts typing a name and suggesting possibilities before one is even done, a rather thick-headed rejoinder to my offered notes (taking exception to the unprovoked appearance of Hitler and Stalin in said notes) made its way to the wrong place and eventually back to me. Well, I still have a job and a fine boss whose sense of justice leans toward the Lex Talionis especially when the dilemma has caused her a great deal of embarrassment. And all through this week I have been thinking: when this is over, it is going to make a really interesting story.
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Just the sort of story, it seems to me, to inflict on Dunbar Wisconsin so as to give him motive to go out into the real world in search of a double cheeseburger.
Ryan Martin
/ February 15, 2008Oops.
lilrabbi
/ February 15, 2008You should publish these notes on the blog. That would be a good time.