Transcription Update- 205 Entries, 128.1 pages. I’m gonna warn you right now; I’m getting scared just thinking about writing this next post…
06-13-18- Entry 146- East on 64 through Grand Canyon National Park
Goin’ east on 64…backtrackin’ a little bit…’cause I wanted to get a feel…for what it’s like goin’ on…our proposed route in the novel…at night! Since it’s 11:30…
But it’s pretty cool drivin’ through the park at night…I mean, I’m sure it’d be even more cool…to be campin’ on the edge of the Grand Canyon at night… Turnin’ the brights on… Just like cuttin’ a sharp path through the forest.
But…just so peaceful…yet you know something…massive…is just over the tree line. It’s like…something is looming at the edge of the forest just waiting to swallow you whole.
I may look into the Grand Canyon. I still have my headlamp on, so I may go to one of these overlooks and see what the damn thing really looks like. I’m not gonna go back to my secret, special place, ’cause I would get lost…and I have a feelin’ there’s some rattlesnakes out there and I’m scared to death of rattlesnakes. My worst fear is falling off a cliff while being bitten by a rattlesnake.
…here almost midnight…all alone on the road through the Grand Canyon at night…The only thing I regret is…not gettin’ to see those bristlecone pines at night. I just need to see…I need to see it… So I’m drivin’ until I see it…
As we go a little deeper into the forest…vegetation, are ya changin’…as we go down in elevation? I need to see those scraggly fuckin’ trees… Here we go, oh yeah! It transitions almost immediately. I mean, that was like almost instantaneous.
These are bristlecones. Ancient…fuck. What is the word? The ancient…sentinels of the forest. The ancient…sentries of the forest…overseers…guardians of the forest. The ancient guardians of the forest… K? You have Guardians of the Galaxy, and you have Guardians of the Forest…
I like comparing the Grand Canyon to Octor Sulcus. I just see the Grand Canyon in my mind. I was tellin’ this guy…and I told you, no matter how big you imagine it is, it’s exponentially bigger. And I can’t imagine writing something that’s exponentially bigger than something that’s exponentially bigger than you can imagine. So, we’re like to the exponential power to another exponential power of that power bigger.
I’m gonna turn in here. We got the bristlecones. We got the turnout… It’s almost midnight… It is dark, and I’m gonna come out here and…see what the hell’s goin on…
Kirk E. Hammond loves science fiction, cats, baseball, and words like emulsified, rapscallion, and nincompoop.
Growing up in the ‘80s, he was scarred by badass sci fi movies; Re-Animator, The Evil Dead, The Thing, Robocop, Aliens, Mad Max2: The Road Warrior, and The Return of the Living Dead, just to name a few. The more gore and camp, the better.
Authors he wishes he could hold a candle to include David Wong (Jason Pargin), Chuck Palahniuk, Chuck Wendig, Frank Herbert, H.P. Lovecraft, Philip K. Dick, Christopher Moore, and J.R.R. Tolkien. He likes to think what he writes is funny, but I’d put his ability to write comedy right down there with Ayn Rand and Christopher Nolan.
He’s a naughty boy who needs to be punished. Every twelve years, he changes careers; from biotech dish-pig, to high school science tyrant, to creator, publisher, and purveyor of lies. The main reason he writes is to give his friends (all imaginary) something to do.
And his writing has no deeper meaning. It’s just action, and gore, and drugs, and magnificent scenery, and witty, snarky banter. In fact, he told me, “There’s nothing more depressing than a moral.”
He was born, raised, and lives in Colorado. He does not ski and smokes pot for research purposes only.
The universe planted many ideas in my mind. I pass them off as my own, but know they're stolen. My ideas gain traction, grow, and consume me. I become my ideas. The universe implants the idea of me in my brain. I am stolen.