If I have learned early in my career writing one, then that the brains of people with regard to the things you do, react, how the dice. You polarisierst forever. Add criticize your friends, your pictures, your life, enemies appreciate them, sometimes the reverse is true and other times you'll ever be ignored. About 25 I started to write short stories because I wanted to do some day this hobby into my profession. I did not want to put my life in things like loser jobs, or money problems. I was often unemployed, which is both bad for the soul, on the other hand, well, if you write, because time is the order and on. Letter was kannz.B over the years as breathing for me, a man with writing urge. be drunk, not permanent. He just needs clarity. He needs words. I could then drink in my spare time so many have-not-not always, jogging, or fuck. Not that I would not have fucked. I fucked a lot. But if you do not run away toads an earlier or later, the women. So I
wrote and delivered my letter without it big to send to publishers, which vary Around the world, say, human brains. Al, who told me once that he was glad to understand nothing about art, pulled me out one day when I just on the couch sleeping off my noise, with a call sleep. I took off a hangover. It was three clock in the afternoon. "Be not angry with me Karl, but what you've written together, is shit."
I stared briefly against the dark wood ceiling in my deepest valley located attic. I had my bearings first. The living room looked as if a horde of chimpanzees lived in it.
I croaked: "How my"
"Well your novel. The three on the drunkard. Your drunk-novella. You and your two master's boy-friends. "
I remembered now what story turned it up and I had not forgotten that it had also given to one or two quite enthusiastic comments. The amendment was based on real events. "Ah, you mean the amendment Spenglomania." I picked up a bottle of vodka from the floor, eyeing her. A small amount spilled to the ground. In it floated a dead fly.
"Yes," complete shit, repeated Al. "What interests me your first youth then, and that you all come from dysfunctional family's? DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY! "
I drank the rest of vodka and spit the fly.
"This phrase I use?"
Al was such momentum that he's not on my counter-question was received.
"complete shit. Boring. And shit. "
" Someone told me she was "bubbly, I quoted one of the two enthusiastic. Al did not respond.
"I hope you do not mind if I do not give the thing to read my brother?"
Al, I was now on, the amendment had wanted to show his brother. "No, no. I have nothing against it. shit you can find it so. "
Yes," confirmed Al, "Especially with that of the fly. You describe a fly, as it revolves around your Suffbirnen, and circles and circles ... I mean, what's the point? The circles since a full half page long. This is shit. "
Here I had to think for a second, because I had my text not too clear at present.
"Ah. The fly. Exactly. I think it should express that Insects, at certain moments, have more going for, as young drinkers and loudmouths. "
" Does not matter, "Al shouted into the phone," this thing is crap. "
Yes, some they consider mediocre. Trixi, for example. "
" No, not mediocre. It is shit. "
I was gradually growing. I went naked as I was in the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and gave me the phone between shoulder and cheek clamped a beer. After the first sip I was inclined to discuss. I said
Aha. Let me sum up. You mean the amendment is shit? Really, irrevocable, undeniable shit? " Without this casual aside
Fedehandschuh Al asked, "What can I do with the manuscript? I mean when hundreds of pointless wasted hours stuck in it. Shall I keep it or return it to you "
I was in possession of a copy and I said," Yes. No. You can burn it if it pleases you, "said a moment, Al
nothing, then". Yes? This joy would treat me? "
" With all my heart, Al. With all my heart. Shit is burning well. Especially when it is dry. And so my paper would have contributed to a slightly different kind of a joy. At a bonfire. "
" Ah, that was good. If the so you can see, Karl. But what else. Where were you in the last days? Did not reach you. "
" In Salzburg, at Trixi. Paula, her WG-mate was not there, we had the whole place for us. Went to the Rock House and so on. Were relaxed days. "
" You know better again with her what? "
" Yes, yes. But there is no sex. "
" Let any one who believes, "Al doubted.
"I know, Al. It's hard to believe. What are you doing today? Do you have free, or do you wait tables? "Actually, Al
nurses, but he sometimes worked as a waiter at the Innsbruck 11er house. "Do free," he said. "Since global warming is playing a Carinthian rock band. LIFE IN AGONY. The I will look at me. "
" I would like to stop by so once again, but I lack the wherewithal. "
" Work ", Al advised me dry.
"I write," I countered.
"Well," then, "said Al." See you "
Yes," I said. "See you later."
Al hung up. Slowly my mind began to spin the flywheel again. Since Al had just called. Instead of constructive criticism, he had felt impelled an expletive to repeat namely, "Shit," permanent. He had not told me what he wanted to know because now grouped under the expletive "shit": he found the style sucks, the punctuation was no tension there, he criticized the lack of depth, or really bothered him only this circular fly? As I said, the story was based on a true story and it could well be that the reality which she described was shit. As in his eyes. I summed up. The two enthusiasts found the text successfully. Trixi mediocre. Al and shit. "One wonders however," I muttered, shaking his head, "Who is really absurd: the writer, or his critics'
end
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