So it’s all over. 51,500 words, which is pretty much a short novel. I have to say that it didn’t really need to be any longer. It probably should have been put out of its misery around the 35,000 word mark, in fact, but here it is regardless. Whole and complete, except for gross inconsistencies and scenes that I just couldn’t be fucked writing.

So, I’m wondering if I should post it on the web.

Pro: It’s a fun story.
Con: It’s very long. Can’t assume anyone would want to read it.
Pro: Someone has to read it.
Con: It’s full of sex and violence. People might think I’m a pervert.
Pro: Most people already believe that.
Con: Some of the characters are based on real people and they might not find the resemblance flattering.
Pro: Um… that’s it.

So, I dunno. Maybe I should let a few people read it first.

Meanwhile, I got The Doors in Concert from Morgan the other day and isn’t that a fine-ass record? I always found them to be sterile and contrived when packaged into three minutes, but to hear them taking their time and just doing what they do is amazing. It’s so energetic and intense, and you can feel the excitement in the crowd because there’s liberal amounts of screaming and cheering in the mix.

You’re right if you say The Doors lack subtlety and sophistication, but it’s not a fatal flaw. The fact that they have all these highbrow pretentions that they can’t follow through on is part of the fun. And I mean, since when did Bob Dylan write good lyrics? I’m serious about this: GO BACK AND READ DYLAN’S LYRICS. THEY’RE NOT THAT GOOD. Highway 61 sucks for one. My point is that who’s to say that The Doors actually were that bad by rock ‘n roll standards? I think they were actually quite okay, and what they lacked in that department they make up for by trying hard and being battlers.

Damn that’s a good album.