On a 'roll' with 43,023 words

Hey folks,
I made up for my lost day by writing 3,000 words today. I have mapped out the rest of my novel, which will have exactly 100 letters (plus miscellaneous other documents). I know what each letter will accomplish and how the story will end: I have 7 letters left to go and about 8,000 words. I figure if I finish and I'm at less than 51,000, then I can just go back to some old letters and add in some Martha inspiration or cats playing the fiddle.

It's pretty exciting to be so near the end. And today's session was a lot of fun. I was able to bring in some great jokes, some Kiefer dbaggery, and I found a lovely picture that I thought you would all enjoy.

Unfortunately, I discovered today that when you do a google image search for 'unintentional pant roll drunk' nothing of much interest comes up. There is a picture of a person who is passed out and who peed their pants, but unfortunately it is in the context of an article about teens dying of alcohol poisoning. Not very funny.

The Weeksman, Just Fiddlin' Around, will have to do.

There was some great stuff in the novel today (if I do say so myself). Nicky wrote a letter to Kiefer about her experiences at activist boot camp (the excerpt you'll read below). Kiefer wrote back to Nicky some more blah blah blah about her being a muse etc. Nicky wrote to Molly to tell her about something she had discovered about Kiefer that should have made her despise him but actually made her feel sorry and like him more! Beyond that, there are big things planned but I will not reveal. I don't plan to go dark, because I can't bear to not post excerpts. I'll just make sure that my excerpts don't actually reveal what's going on.

I'm happy to say that I still like this novel! And I'm also happy to see that none of your sophomore efforts are falling into the same trap that mine did (having really boring characters and no plot except my hatred for Katy Perry).

And now, on to the excerpt... part of a longer letter from Nicky to Kiefer.

I went to a couple of the fashion and design workshops. Surprising as they were to find at activist boot camp, they made me feel like maybe I brought some skills to the table. Until I went inside. One of the workshops was basically about how to dress for a protest where police might get violent. They gave advice like not to bring any weapons (duh) or your pets (duh) and not to wear flip flops (as if I would!). They suggested you do wear loose comfortable clothing, bring a change of clothes, and pack a couple of bandanas to cover your face if there’s tear gas. It actually scared me to hear them talking about it so I tuned out most of the rest.

Then I went to a workshop that was called ‘The Art of the Roll.’ It was really well attended because a lot of people were talking about how the rolled cuff look of last summer appears to have become the rolled cuff epidemic of this year. Legions of young men, including ones who are not bicycle messengers, are rolling up their pants legs to such high-water lengths that one is tempted to inquire where exactly the auditions for the Huckleberry Finn revival are being held. (The answer is, in October at Radio City Music Hall in The Big City). Everyone urgently wanted to know what they should do about it.

The facilitator’s name was Tom Julian, and he said he was a fashion consultant and the author of two men’s activist style books. He advised us that “It’s almost like a masculine shabby chic.” I completely agreed and noted privately that every five years or so, the fashionable male discovers some styling trick to make the same old thing wearable in a dandy new way — the deep jeans cuff, the double-flipped shirt-sleeve cuff — and the next thing you know, men are trying it in Midtown.

Tom was adamant that getting the roll right is harder than it looks, and the experts differ on technique. He suggested rolling one inch of cuff three times for cotton canvas trousers, and a single two-inch cuff for dark jeans. Another man who told us that he had rolled up his trouser legs that very morning in an effort to avoid having all of his pants shortened by three inches, advised creating a peg by pinching the fabric slightly at the front during the rolling process. Starting from the bottom, you flip once, making as small a fold as possible, then twist the front of the pants leg by about an inch, then roll twice more while holding the pinch tightly. The pleats should stay in place.

Both of these men exhorted the capacity crowd to avoid some key ‘don’ts.’ No formal shoes. No rolled-up skinny jeans. No wool pants — the rolls won’t stay. No bootleg pants, which should be burned anyway. And since rolled pants are meant to look casual, nothing about the outfit should be dressy, at the risk of looking too studied. While you’re at it, stop trying so hard. The final advice that they gave as we all filed out of the room, looking a little shell-shocked, was that the roll should look unintentional. I made a bet with myself that it was actually impossible to unintentionally roll up one’s pants, especially to unintentionally roll and simultaneously create a peg while keeping the two cuffs perfectly symmetrical. But, I guess that next time I come to boot camp I’ll just have to run my own workshop!

Actually, I couldn't resist and so I also present a short excerpt from Kiefer's response. The poor boy is fashion-challenged, to say the least.

I also thank you for the pant-rolling tips. The practicing auteur seldom has time to study the art of the roll, and I confess I have often been frustrated when trying to roll up wool pants, skinny jeans, or boot-leg jeans. Not to mention leggings! Do you have any suggestions for an effective legging-rolling technique? I do want my fans to take me seriously and they are unfortunately, so shallow as to judge my book by its cover. Alas, I have taken to wearing tight pants and leggings once again – though I had sworn that in my lovesick (nay, musesick!) state I would renounce them forever. But my agent has demanded that I show off my attributes and reminded me time and time again that the public pays my mortgage.