Kill the Farm Boy by Delilah S. Dawson and Kevin Hearne
Kill the Farm Boy is a fantasy comedy that constantly pokes fun at the fantasy genre and takes nothing at all seriously. Somehow I am made to care about the characters, and yet, at the very same time, their abrupt and often grim demise didn’t phase me. It’s like a comic book in that way—no one really dies forever. There’s always a return, a come-back, even if it’s in ghost-form.
You may have noticed that I’ve not been writing much lately. Not here and not in the real world either. For once I have a valid excuse. I moved. Into a house. A house that I pay for. Adulting, Level: Oh God it Hurts! Add kids into the mix and I’m pretty much playing on hard-mode with half my life meter missing. Not depleted. Just missing. Gone.
But it’s an exciting thing to own a home, to shop at Home Depot full-time, and to stress about the placement of one’s mailbox. It’s an older house, with a modern feel and a lot of charm…like me. The house, to me is like those pictures of dogs and their owners.
Now is a good time to say that it has taken me several days to write this post. In fact, these last few paragraphs happened between checking the washing machine for a strange noise, taking turns with the wife trying to console the cranky and tired Seven Month Old, and getting distracted while watching Crazy Rich Asians. This is my time to write it seems. It feels like less of a job and more an act of survival.
I’m not complaining. Writing this is helping me accept this new stage of this wacky game of life. “Write everyday,” all the writers who are worth a damn say. They should be saying, “write when you fucking can, and be happy with it even when you can’t.” It’s easy to be Stephen King and say “write everyday.” I truly question whether or not he, “wrote everyday” while Joe Hill was running around in diapers.
Well, Awkwafina just showed up, so I’m going to get going. I hope to have another post out soon, with a bit more about fiction and less about real life.