As I told you in this post, I’m putting together a compilation of some of the short stories I’ve written about my life. The collection will be entitled Invisible Candy, and it’s coming out soon.
I’ve never released excerpts from stories before, so I’m not really sure how this works. Do I just put the first few paragraphs? That would blue ball the reader if they liked it. I hate it when the Amazon.com free preview of a book ends, and plus, this book isn’t out yet. If you like it, you don’t even have the option of purchasing it. So, when the book finally comes out and you get to a familiar start of a story, you’re going to flashback to the time that asshole writer just put up the first few paragraphs on his blog, and left you hanging for a few months.
I would hate that guy.
Do I put up random paragraphs that are completely out of context? You can safely assume that this thing will be humorous, but how would I choose the random paragraphs? Do I pick the funniest ones? That would spoil all the jokes. But if I pick the boring-er ones, it’s not going to seem like a good book at all. I’m sure Invisible Candy would’ve been funny, the blog reader thought to himself, if it wasn’t so much about what the fucking trees looked like.
I can’t win with this.
This first excerpt is from the story “Invisible Candy,” which deals with my fantastical dietary habits as a child.
“For many, innocence is lost as soon as the aspects of sex start to seep into your life. For me, it started when someone called me out on my attempts to eat objects in the room.
There is no plausible way to describe how this habit began to manifest itself, other than I did it once and then a million more times. Someone who’s more well-versed in child psychology may recognize it as an odd attempt to gain dominance over my situation and surroundings during an age where I felt, for the most part, powerless. That sounds like a pretty damn good way to describe my behavior, so I’ll go with that. I was taking control, and I was doing it my way.
It began in second grade. The first time was exactly like all the other times, except with the added curiosity of jumping into completely new territory. I saw an object, and I took my thumb and pointer finger and put my thumb at the bottom of the object, and sat my pointer finger on its top. The object was usually something quite large, but because of depth perception due to its length away from me, I was able to pinch it in between these two fingers. I would then pull my hand back, maintaining the pinch, as if I was gripping an imperceptible, tiny version of the object, and I would draw it to my mouth. I would proceed to open wide and see if I could fit it in there, and, in turn, eat it. If I couldn’t eat it, I would immediately give up on it. I wasn’t going to deal with two bites here. If the desk, person, bush, or window couldn’t fit its microscopic counterpart in my maw, I deemed it unfit for consumption, and it evaporated further from its current transparent state.
I never discriminated against any type of object, and thus, this habit became a constant one. If I had to walk out of my main elementary school building to the playground that sat a few hundred yards away, I would take the time, while the trees were in the distance, to clutch them in my two fingers and fit them between my teeth. I didn’t imagine tasting them, though, psychologically, adding that factor would probably make this a much more interesting case. Instead, I was just the indiscriminate Galactus of this miniature world I was creating, one piece at a time, through my hands and straight into the black hole of my face.
This lasted for two years. In that span, I probably ate every person in every single class that I had, along with every bit of furniture that crossed my line of sight. The tendency never left school. When I got home, there was no bid to try and devour the dog or my parents or brother or sister or the couch. The quirk only materialized at school, and outside of school, it was as if it never existed at all. I never thought to do it, nor did I make a conscious effort to do it in an extra-curricular location.”
Invisible Candy is coming out in October.