Sunday, October 3— Call it what you will, from job-hunt burnout to menopausal psychotic break, I choose the most benign methods for dealing with matters in the topsy-turvy Howle household. If I do not get away from these conflicts, petty arguments and threats of retaliation, I’m going to find myself cuddling up to that nice Asian man working on the code in Fringe’s “The Equation.” Simply put, I hate confrontation. So my decision is to clear the judgmental air by running fast and running far. It can’t hurt to factor in some entertainment and networking at the same time.
I feel like the frightened 8-year-old who once ran away to the neighborhood biking trails, a sleeping bag tied to the handlebars of her bike. The only thing more terrifying than sleeping alone on the ground behind some weird pedophile’s house was seeing my dad’s truck come bouncing over the dunes, sweeping my crouched hideaway with his headlights as he yelled full-volume out the window concerning my punishment. No one ever broke camp as fast as I did that night. Or cultivated a more “natural’ innocence for my cover story.
Tonight, I felt the uncontrollable sizzle of frustration as it boiled over among the intergenerational residents of our home. Rules and expectations are at a stalemate. Tempers are short. Simply entering a room can spark a battle. Not proudly, I withdrew from the field, leaving those of the Elderly platoon to butt heads nonstop with those of Gen Y (or whatever they are calling teens these days). I hope they survive this temporary desertion. I gave everyone my love, wished them well, begged them to get along and assured them that I WOULD call.
From the arid plains of freelance writing in Texas, I’m reaching out to the strange and many-faceted land of science fiction. Maybe I’ll meet a future mentor for my game writing, book ideas, and movie ideas? My other goal is to find out what type of jobs are available in sci-fi book publishing, PR, movie promotion, etc.
My Prius is loaded with camping gear, books, clothes,and electronics in order to document my way across the United States (from Texas to New York and back).
A short line on the map led me to a gas station near Mineola where you could actually order their Dairy Queen meal from pumpside!
I iced down my Starbuck’s lattes and Dr.Peppers for tomorrow. The room is clean and frosty cool. In the new light of morning, I hope I can get a photo of the bridge here that so reminds me of that infamous site in Fringe “The Man from the other Side.”
After a complimentary breakfast chow down to feed my rag-tag army of one, I continue to Atlanta, GA. Perhaps we’ll see more of the unfortunate ‘”Fringe Pattern” here? Any and all anomalies must be reported to Broyles. Time is of the essence!
As I scout new opportunities in writing, blogging and freelancing during New York Comic Con, Oct. 8-10, I hope to meet and share information with successful writers. But, most of all, I look forward to freedom from constant bickering. At home, I was starting to feel like Olivia Dunham imprisoned in her dark cell, lying in a fetal position. On the road, I’ve broken out of my stressful chains and taken a wild leap off a cliff into unknown waters.
Join me on this fanciful road trip and follow the adventures of a one-woman geek army! I’m already learning new things that the fake Altlivia Dunham on Fringe might need in her cover identity. Such as, they love their WalMart in Louisiana, but they also love their X-Mart Adult Superstores! Why did I not know this? And Waffle House is where all shapeshifters go to get their minimum dose of mercury each morning. I’ll be doing research there first thing tomorrow. Shifties, beware!