The scene, in my bed Friday night. It felt late but it was probably only like 9:30. Mr. Kaos came into the room and smiled at me. I was exhausted and curled into the bed surrounded with a fortress of pillows and two blankets.
MK: Hey babe, how’s it going?
Me: I’m tired.
MK: You feeling any better?
Me: *cough cough sputter hack snort cough* A little. I took some nyquil.
MK: Did you get any work done on your NaNoblahablalaa book thing?
Me: Yeah. I did. I’ve got a tittle and like a little over 5,000 words. That means that I am ahead and if I spend the weekend coughing in bed I won’t be too far behind.
MK: You should call it “Shoes”
MK: You should call your novel “Shoes”
Me: No, it already as a title, “Fiction”
MK: Are you joking?
Me: No, it makes sense for the story. It’s a really nonsensical fiction tale like Murakami meets Carroll meets Cami meets Pratchett meets some one really nutso. “Fiction” really works.
MK: You know I was joking about calling it shoes… but… maybe you should use it.