I Told You So

I Told You So

A Fergus Johnson story of gender relations

You have to understand that discretion is often about what you choose to not say.

Fergus and his wife, Loraine, were on vacation in southern Arizona. It was more than a vacation, actually. They had decided that it was time to move to a warmer climate for him and a place kinder to allergies for her. So, they were also keeping their eyes open for climates and communities where they might like to live.

Fergus and Loraine enjoyed each other’s company and enjoyed exploring new places together. They noticed things and pointed them out to each other. They worked well together and they, especially, traveled well together. Sometimes, Loraine’s heart would swell with affection and she would spontaneously offer: “I love you.” More often than not, Fergus would be caught off-guard and look like a deer in headlights. Truth be told, getting that reaction might actually have been part of her motivation for saying it.

Information and comments on the story:
Analysis of the Creative Process

from the book: Life Will Get You in the End:
Short stories by David Satterlee

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Life Will Get You in the End:
Short Stories by David Satterlee

A retired engineer comes to terms with typing his literary criticism papers himself. A creative student of literary analysis takes a break from writing yet another lame-ass paper to throw a private hissy-fit. 

Analysis of the Creative Process

I had a pen.

I learned my subject thoroughly across many years. I knew it well and could recite details and essential relationships at will; and often did so at salons with my peers. I ordered my thoughts and wrote cleanly, revising my first draft at least once.

My assistant had a typewriter.

I was knowledgeable in my field. After my first draft, she typed it up double spaced. I marked it up, inserting, deleting, drawing arrows, and making notes in the margin. She continued retyping drafts until I was satisfied with the result.

I had a word processor.

I knew my subject well enough. I launched in, doing additional research as I went. I inserted, deleted, and moved anything anytime until it was “right.” Each “draft” morphed continuously into the next. I nipped and tucked and, when it was done, I read it out loud to catch the final dumb stuff.

I had a turtle.

 He was a strange and wonderful creature. I took him apart to see how he was built. He was still strange but not so wonderful. I glued him back together but I did not like him anymore.

I have examined the great music.

Analysis shows that great music conforms to certain forms and obeys certain rules. I wrote some music. I conformed to the forms and obeyed the rules. It was not very good. I think that maybe the great composers broke rules.