This amusing creature and such things of myths and legends always
interested me...a big part of writing fiction is making up shit, which
is part of the fun...The Jackalope has a small, yet significant part in
my novel
Drinking from the Fishbowl (which is closer than ever
to being done.) I found this postcard when I was out West once a very
long time ago, but darn it, I can't lay my hands on it as I've
squirreled it away somewhere in my treasure-trove of crap that I've
collected over the years, so I Googled it and found a picture of it on
an amusing website that included the greatest hits of legendary
creatures like Bigfoot and Nessie:
http://www.skeptiseum.org/index.php?override=home.php&subcat=Choose%20a%20topic
Not
meaning to get your hopes up (or down if you don't dig Bigfoot) the
book isn't about any of them, but it is about dreams and realities, and
the mythology that is invented about people who become "rich and
famous."
Eugene Riley originates from a place where the
mythological Jackalope has been rumored to leap around in mountain
meadows...he is on a life journey in which the reality of his dreams
isn't what he had expected, he is a successful actor and filmmaker,
goodness yes, he seems to have the golden touch...and yet, no, he has
plenty of stumbles along the way that are less than glamorous. The
talented young man is determined to follow his dreams and make them
happen, and has overcome the obstacles that get in the way, and from
time to time as he progresses into his career from a finds himself in
good company with the Jackalope. The media makes up stories about him
throughout his career in Hollywood, the truth mixes with lies and the
lies become a bizarre "truth" that the inquiring minds want to
know...when in reality, Eugene is an ordinary fellow, he's really an
introvert, but a few tips from a flask or hits from a joint smooths the
rough spots and he's good to go. When seen in person without the make
up, the costumes, the lighting, the dramatic camera angles, and of
course, good editing, he's not as tall as you think, and his eyes,
although they are blue, they are not really that blue, and his real hair
is unruly dirty blond curls. The Hollywood media machine is riddled
with rumors about him, some of the most outrageous things are typical
fodder (who is he dating, who is he dumping, look who he's been caught
in a love nest with while he's married to wife #whatever, is that baby
his baby, is his wife going to leave him, did he beat his wife, he's a
drug addict, he's a drunk, is he going to rehab, he's out of rehab, did
he have a relapse, oops he did it again, did he just die in a fiery car
crash, did he get kidnapped by aliens, where is he now, is Bat-Boy his
big brother? Seriously...if you spend any time in the grocery store
line, you know the drill, this shit is crazy.) The fabricated "royalty"
that grace the glossy covers of magazines are a cultural fascination
that flows between fairy tale and comic-tragedy, it's so bizarre.
Why
on earth would I want to write about this... because I wanted to
explore the emotional side of the person living with this burden. How
does a man voted "The Sexiest Man Alive" feel about it? How does the
actor who doesn't win the Oscar for Best Actor feel about it? How does
he feel when the film he's directed gets the "Two Thumbs Up" and wins
Best Picture? There is a real person riding that Hollywood wild horse.
Living with all the ridiculous rumors about his private life swirling
around in print (and feels compelled to call his mom, Grace Riley in
Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and his best friend, Georgia Sullivan in New York
City to tell them to ignore it, he's alive and well.) His reality is
this, he just happens to have a really cool job doing something that he
loves. People fall in love with an image that he projects, a character, a
fiction. It's a fickle life, and he's very aware that the ride can end
at any time. Does he wait for it to throw him off, or does he stop the
horse, get down, and walk away on his own.
Eugene Riley is a Jackalope.
