2 minutes 35 seconds| This is my first piece written in Garageband, and before I fully understood how to score the music or use the effects. The middle part was expaned later, and an organ was added to the final repeat. The accompanying (but now defunct) SWF was a tribute to Salvador Dali, and this remains true.
Novel-in-Progress, excerpt 67| Howard reports to his friend on a possible invasion of his house by wildlife:
“It is probably a coyote,” said the homeowner. “Run it off with a ladle and pot. Make sure you close the front door off with the bookrack and leave by the backdoor, which has a better latch.”
Howard reached into his jacket pocket and produced an item that, in its commendable utility, rescued his travel from being a vain undertaking.
“A flashlight!” heralded Lowell. “I forgot to pack one! Don’t you need a light to find your way back and flush the invader from my attic?”
“I have walked these byways many times in sleep, and without a moon.”
This estimation was met skeptically.
Gratitude sent the friend away, and the houseguest returned to the staircase, better able to see it. From the top step he looked back over his short jog and realized, with disquiet, that the motion light that greeted his arrival to the house had not come on in due course, either in his descent or ascent of the stair.
Faulty wiring in an old house was to be expected, but Lowell did not go to bed immediately but returned to the window. Nothing of his visitor was seen striding across the adjacent field, or toward the road, although a disturbance in a hedge had him thinking Howard had tripped nearby and fallen. The window sash this time easily gave, allowing him to stick the flashlight over the sill.
“Don’t go stumbling over abandoned grocery carts out there,” he called down to the rustle, but received no reply.
The hedge was luridly green, and within its shadow other shadows formed. These were distinguished by movement, which he regrettably compared to outlines of streaming individuals tracking in single file. Where these individuals were could not be positively stated, other than they moved parallel to the hedgerow. They may have been glimpsed on a lane beyond the leafage or, bizarrely, their suggestion of shape and motion was a hypnotic product of the shrub itself. Something in how these parading figures overlapped and crept together indicated a threat, first of trespassers, and then of unique segments composing a ravenous caterpillar or millipede.
His friend’s description of what was uncovered in his attic was recalled, and then also the choreography he witnessed from the road during his journey. Lowell did not leave the window until a wind untangled these nightmarish elements from the landscape, and settled everything to natural explanation. He turned off the flashlight, shut the sash, and returned to bed.
As of 7/22/18: I have reached the end of 2009’s musical pages, and therefore space for excerpts. I apologize for this abrupt ending. Though the book from here, for foreseeable pages, is mostly solid in design, I become increasingly less confident in its finished-ness. The next and concluding portion of this part of the novel is up for grabs, and still very much a work-in-progress.
While Google counts words when ranking pages, it also examines content, which is to say that if you copy text from one page to another, that does not count toward your three hundred words of “original content” for that page. If at some point I publish my new novel on this website, these excerpts will be null and void as original page content, and must be removed in favor of some other method for highlighting these musical pages.
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