This week I’m still reading The Hole Behind Midnight, by the aptly-named Clinton J. Boomer (apt because he has made a lot of things go “boom” in the book by this point).
What can I say? This is a pretty long book. But it does move right along. Especially once Miss Molly shows up.
I stood up in the back seat, wind whipping in my hair, my feet braced against the black garbage bag full of loose cigarettes, with my mighty new 50-cal propped on the passenger side headrest, and I let loose some sweet holy fucking hell.
Miss Molly smashed into everything that hadn’t gotten out of the way by the time we pulled up, then idled in revving neutral just long enough for me to clumsily climb up onto the loading dock bay, keeping an eye on the still-snarling half of a weird, horn-headed hybrid of a pit bull and rabid goat trapped under her back wheels.
In case you were wondering, Miss Molly is a sentient car that seems to be more or less a cross between Christine, Herbie the Love Bug, Bumblebee, and the indestructible car that (30-year-old spoiler alert!) Charlie Sheen drove in “The Wraith“:
Fortunately for her cool factor, as described, Miss Molly looks like Christine, not like Herbie.
Meanwhile, hard-copy editing continues on Father’s Books. Although I had been thinking that this might be the last round of printing/rewriting, I’ve scrawled in enough notes and changes in the margins that there’ll probably be another one.
“Ready now?” Rose said.
“Another minute,” Sandy said.
A minute went by.
“One more,” Sandy said.
Well, okay, Sandy. Maybe one more after that.
Viscosity 