Catnapped and Doggone
You caught me. It's not my usual blog day and I am completely off topic. Yes, I have (temporarily) hijacked the blog. Think of me as the Alexander Haig of cyberspace. The kinder explanation is that I am researching. Maybe I'm plotting a high-tech defamation leads to murder scenario. Or I could be working on a new identity theft. Then again, it might just be the first Monday I could ever get my act together. Many are the explanations. Pick your favorite.
I wanted to thank Stephen for being such a good stand in. If you missed the ever inciteful Shane's comments from late last week, Stephen as a house guest is without peer. He picks up his wet towels from the bathroom floor without being asked but some of Shane's scotch is apparently missing. Like any of us believe that was Stephen.
Since I'm going off the cuff today, I thought I'd talk about how being a mystery writer changes the way you interact with people. I've spent a fair amount of time checking out true gore in crime scenes and autopsies to make sure that my books read believably. All of which is interesting and great. But over the last couple of weeks a friend of mine has had some medical setbacks including two surgeries. There's been draining lymphatic fluid and necrotic tissue and secondary infections. All of which I've documented with my handy iPhone while asking a hundred questions like how deep can you probe into his foot while it is gaping open and he isn't under the influence of anesthesia or any pain killer? When the doctor makes the incision will she remove bone to the metatarsals with a scapel or a drill? These are very good questions and the type of questions I have no doubt every health care practitioner has fielded from a well-informed, trained doctor/family member. When it's just a family friend who wants a better view with camera in hand who is also their lawyer, people go strange. Really strange.
At first I didn't notice. I was busy with the zoom lens. Then, the silence reached defeaning. Do I seem like the fire bug turning up at the scene of every blaze? Would you think I might be a serial confessor and need details to tell a more convincing story? Fine. Be that way. I seem deranged. I clearly have a strong stomach. I definitely find the real world stuff interesting while still providing my friend with some emotional support when I'm not busy being entranced.
I know it's only a matter of time before one of these guys calls the cops. Well, that will be interesting, too.
Thanks for reading.
Monday Gabi (not to be confused with Sunday Gabi)