World Headquarters!

Yes, demolition has begun for the new Mr Scribbler World Headquarters*! Construction is scheduled to begin as early as tomorrow....

At the moment, the new Nerve Center of my would-be empire is cleverly disguised as the corner of a rather capacious cellar, which also houses D's shop and her art space, not to mention a heating-oil tank, water heater and washer and dryer.

Nonetheless, even though at the moment D's work area is threatening to burst its borders, she wanted me to have a place where I could work comfortably and access whatever research materials and books I might need, and came up with a nice plan of walls and floor to make it seem like an office and not a corner of the cellar. I've never had such a thing before, I must say.

A few hours before the photo was taken, the piles of random lumber on the floor had been assembled into an odd-looking but functional pair of workbenches. Some clever engineering -- and a boatload of drywall screws -- had gone into making such a disparate bunch of scraps stand on their own and actually bear weight. It was almost a shame to take them down.

But there's no stopping the Tide of Progress. Now that the necessary wood has been delivered to create a proper raised floor, we've cleared the area (including the small stepladder and the parts from a player-piano mechanism) and are ready to start fitting things together. After that, walls, a door -- the workshop sometimes produces noticeable quantities of sawdust, and current opinion is that computers don't like sawdust -- plus a desk, bookshelf and a cable connecting me to the Interwebz.

Today, office space, tomorrow...work?

PARENTHETICAL A-MAN'S-GOTTA-DO-WHAT-A-MAN'S-GOTTA-DO THOUGHT: There are rumors swirling that I am on the edge of getting enough work to keep me busy for a while and refresh the depleted coffers. Alas, no one has offered me an advance to write the definitive biography of Lord Timothy Dexter, whom you have recently met if you've been keeping up with me, or Brother Curtis Springer, former proprietor of a gospel-style religious radio program and of Zzyzx Mineral Springs in the California desert. I'm afraid my literary interests these days run closer to subjects like these gentlemen than the things I've been writing about for a quarter-century. But I've been typecast and, like Ol' Blue Eyes singing "New York, New York" to the paying customers long after it must have made him cringe to hear the band swing into the intro, I'm in it for the spondulix, Jim....

Anyway, it's just another case of D. making me feel far more than welcome here. I wouldn't ask for this kind of effort from her, but she offered. Despite my protestations that I can write anywhere, including the current location for the 'puter,  she seems to know that I'll do better when I'm comfortable.

Hope she's noticed that that's happening already. I am comfortable, and I am doing better. Neither she nor anyone who knows me has seen me when I was feeling so comfortable, happy and "at home."

Simply because it's a totally new thing for me.

More updates to follow as the massive construction project continues. I'll interrupt regular programming with Breaking News any time....

* A wholly-owned subsidiary of Scribbler Interplanetary Ventures, Ltd.