For a good chunk of years, I worked on a series of linked stories called The “Polite Rebels” EP. Essentially, it was four stories — two short and two fairly long — which overall added up to something greater than simply “four stories pertaining to New Jersey”. I got some feedback on it from Molly and from Steve; somewhere along the way, though, the project was….I don’t want to say “abandoned”. But I’d been working on at least one of these stories, in some form or another, since 1999, and I felt the need to move on to work on other projects.
I’ve been thinking about the book in question more frequently lately, though. (The fact that the opening story is set during the nor’easter of 1992 doesn’t hurt.) Last night, in the bathroom at Galapagos, I realized that one thread that linked all four stories: a weird shared preoccupation with driving. The protagonist of the first story wakes up in a car half-filled with water after a night of too much drinking; the guys who are the focus of the second story are young hardcore kids who, unsurprisingly, spend a lot of time; the protagonist of the third is given a surreal side job in which a vehicle is involved; and the main character of the final story — offscreen — injures his leg in a car accident.
All of which may not mean anything; nonetheless, it’s odd to see that common thread now, a few years after setting the project aside.
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