Burn Down the Villa

Hee . . . I love mayhem, be it that brain-damaged punk from Oz who goes around jackin’ your shit and explaining how you were just bent over and screwed because you went with Flo after she made goo-goo eyes are you, or the sort of mayhem you create on your own.

I know a little about mayhem, because I was once a country-raised teenager with a driver’s licence and no curfew–never a good combination in the best of times.  Add to this mixture being bi-polar and a tendency to self-medicate with cheap drugs (this was the mid-1970’s) and it didn’t take me long to achieve a well-developed sense of how to fuck things up.

So, I reach the point in my ghost story where my characters, after getting punked by supernatural creatures, say “Screw it,” and go all in on mayhem.  This comes after spending part of yesterday researching fun facts on liquid petroleum gas–which is the primary fuel used for cooking throughout the location of my story–and after discovering that a LPG explosion can generate a fireball so insanely hot it can instantly incinerate a body into ashes . . . yeah, my characters gotta go there.

Music was retro for me.  Since my misspent youth was on the block today I went with what I used to listen to at that time: lots of Elton John:


  • Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding
  • All the Young Girls Love Alice
  • Madman Across the Water
  • Balled of Danny Bailey
  • Rocket Man
  • Burn Down the Mission
  • Tiny Dancer
  • This Song Has No Title
  • Hercules
  • Harmony


I was in a very nice writing grove today; the words flowed freely, and that was even with having to edit on the fly to keep the mood right.  The characters are feeling desperate and tired; they feel like they may have won, but there is still the notion that any second could turn into an “Up pops the Devil!” moment.  Which, of course, did happen . . ..

Word count was good: 1206 words in 57:36, for a production total 1256 words/hour.  And my passive sentences for today were kept to 1%.  Story count is 21,700 words, and I do, do, do, do really believe I’ll finish this by the end of the week, likely with another 2 or 3 thousand words added.

Tomorrow I have to get my characters out of a sticky situation.  They’re in a house that’s beginning to fill with gas; what could go wrong?