This is worse than being in a Stephen King short story. At the moment, I have an excess of creative juices flowing through my psyche. This, I cannot impart succinctly enough, is maddening. Not because of racing thoughts, poor impulse control (Bottle rockets and a cattle stampede. That's all I'm saying until I KNOW the statute of limitations is up.) , a generally good mood, and free time. No, those things, along with the occasional hallucination (auditory, please), are quite normal for me, as ironic as that sounds. What's missing is a specific focus -a subject.
Now, we all know Stephen King has this type of thing mastered. NO one tells a story better than Mr. I-Have-Spider-Webs-Designed-Into-The-Wrought-Iron-Gates-Opening-To-My-550,000,000,000-Square-Foot-Mansion. Not only is the detail exquisite in his stories, the style itself comples you to keep reading and to keep willingly suspend disbelief about things like human fingers coming through bathroom sink drain holes. I'd love to be a Stephen King of comedy, but that sounds like a sequel to a really cheesy movie that neither of us would want to watch. I recount experiences and embellish them a little bit, but some of my experiences seem to have come pre-embellished. For example: spinning my dad's car out on Loch Haven Road at 70 miles per hour while passing traffic on the interstate adjacent to me backward wasn't something in need of any truth-stretching. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if someone who knew me saw the whole thing from I-81. No need for either embellishment or surprise. "There goes Rob again. Think he's ready for his geometry test?"
On the other hand, experiences at work, while not in need of embellishment, nontheless benefit from such treatment. I know I'd rather read "Edna was already puffing anxiously on her third cigarette while Mike and I labored furiously to load two sofas, three overstuffed chairs, and one-hundred fourteen sheets of plywood into her 1987 Volkswagen Jetta" than "A woman asked Mike and I to put items she purchased into her used car".
See?
Embellishment is the gateway to freedom from tedium. It's a license to express one's experiences and views without having to answer for them. No one ever asked me, "Hey Rob -who gave you the right to say things in a funny way?" Stephen King is a master of embellishment. I'm a newcomer to this wonderful world. Boy is there a lot to see and do here! One of my favorite things is to get out and watch people do people things. The other day, I watched two drivers cut each other off -and promptly lean on their horns in response. As such, it was pretty funny, but I find it funnier by including how they decided to slow down in order to have a 40 decibel jousting match, and how both contestants knew it would be a fight to the finish of their batteries. Neither was willing to leave, since they had both committed to the event and had invested themselves emotionally into this Honk-Off Of The Century. Truly, an event so huge it would surely preempt the tennis matches being covered by ESPN. Embellishment turbocharges a story by making a humdrum occurrence engaging.
Never be afraid to add humor to a story. Don't lie, of course, but have fun tweaking experiences, as retold, until they make your friends wonder if the Haldol is working too well. As for me, I don't take Haldol, so it isn't an issue for me. Then my hallucinations would stop, and I'd be doing spreadsheets for a boss wearing tres chic suspenders. Oh, shudder. Embellishment is the embracing of a story. To me, it's the love expressed for a story needing to be told, if that doesn't sound too syrupy. (I know that it does) Whatever the case, embellishment is my friend, and sometimes we sit down and collaborate on a blog.
That said, embellishment and I are tired, so we're calling it a night.
Oh, embellishment says I should apologize for such an abrupt ending. I agree.
Please continue to embellish us!
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