The Fuzzy Thumb Monologues

2 audio creatures

I am working on too many projects at once. I love this state. My mind lights up, and suddenly I’m mumbling monologues to myself—in the car, while vacuuming up copious amounts of dog hair, while waiting for water to boil for ramen.

When I’m in a creative flurry like this, things just pop out. They’re not epic, but they are fun.

For example: Siri has scared the bejesus out of me multiple times this week. Apparently, when I mumble “surprised” while writing, he thinks I’m calling his name. So he keeps jumping out of nowhere with a smug little “mm-hm?” and nearly giving me a heart attack.

I also wrote several songs this week—rambling under my breath, as I do—and I’m really bummed I didn’t record them. One was for Jon T, about a little man holding a little man, who was holding another little man, who had a radio in his hand. Tragically, it is now lost to the ether. RIP, tiny radio man song.

Speaking with a friend, I realized that the fun part of my creativity often stays out of my fiction. And once I noticed that, I accidentally created a flurry of small, ridiculous pieces. They aren’t like the rest of my work, so if you miss out, no big deal—but I wanted to share these two randos from my brain’s most recent whirlwind.

So! Here are two completely spontaneous characters who popped out, fully formed, voices and all:

• One for Jon T’s PorteManteau prompt machine (which is phenomenal).

  Jon T

• One making its world debut here, for the most recent Fictionista prompt.

  Fictionistas

Here’s the video Jon T made using my recording for his Estranged Fuzzball prompt:

And here’s my Fictionista prompt recording, written from the point of view of a disgruntled thumb. (Some things are meant to be heard—this is one of them.)

I am just a thumb. I can’t do shit on my own. My sisters and brothers think I am such a badass, but I just want a little bit of quiet. All this yapping, all this snapping all damn day long. We went to the nail salon the other day, at least I got to under one of them dryers, so loud, and I got a minute to myself, the air was blowing in my downy dew, and I had this pretty green sheen to me and I got to be on my own, all spread out. It was a holiday.

But I am telling you, that green, didn’t even last the day. We had to go to this warehouse and my sibling were clicking at me, thinking they were like motivating, like they was moralizing me, but I am just like, shut the fuck up and let me do my job.

But when I saw that thumb come at, all rough and calluses, looking like some kind of boulder, all smashed and massive, well I near crapped myself, much as thumb can do. But I wrapped my smaller body round that big ol thumb, my brothers and sister hefting and heaving behind me, and damnit if we didn’t get lucky. Giant hand had some kind of leg cramp, loosened right up, right when we was losing. My pretty green nail got chipped, don’t even remember it happening.

I got all swolled up, don’t even know why, but I tell you, best day of my life, got all wrapped up in this cold icy towel, all by myself, and got sleep through a whole night, no one pushing on me with their sweaty skin.

Meanwhile, I’ve been writing myself a monologue for a theater performance, because apparently, talking to myself while vacuuming isn’t enough. And at the same time, I’m mud-wrestling my next very difficult piece.

Bonus idea: I’m thinking about doing my first live this weekend—bringing you along as I post my graffiti zine collage in the parking lot behind my house. This piece includes texts from all the writers who collaborated with me on SUM FLUX (our Substack magazine). I plan to paste it directly in front of the parking spot of a man who spends all day there, meticulously cutting his garbage into tiny confetti squares. He then leaves them behind as some sort of festive, albeit messy, artwork.

Would you be up for this? Answer my little poll about the live if you have a second!

Oh, and one more thing— I’m putting my paid subscription on sale for 50% off until February 15th, but only if you follow this link:

50 % off for one year

Not to cry you to sleep, but I really only want to write for you all the time, and all my other gigs are getting in the way. This is a one-time deal, and it’s just for you guys. It is, without exaggeration, the sale of the century. So don’t miss out—click here to get 50% off.

Upgrade here for the Sale of the Century

If you came here for a serious piece of writing, I do that too. This one didn’t go out to everyone (yes, I am still crying about that). If you didn’t receive it, click on the link below.

"Halving"

Have a wonderful weekend, and maybe I’ll see you in the live (if I get up the nerve).