New Novel: Agitarius, Week One
The First Eight Days In The Worst Year Of Your Life
Before we begin, I will preface with a little explanation of this book, and the expectations of things to come as it is released incrementally.
When I was a teenager, I bought a book for $0.25 at a used book fair by Sydney Omarr that was a year or more of daily horoscopes. It was also chock full of ads for 900 numbers where you could connect with soothsayers, psychics, tarot card readers, and women who went by “Countess” that would cast a spell on me for $2.00 per minute. While I never got my first girlfriend in April, or some inexplicable raise in the income of an unemployable thirteen year-old in the fall—as Sydney Omarr would have led me to believe—the book stuck with me. Physically, yes—as I still have it and use it as a style reference for this project—but also as a source of creative inspiration that has been percolating for many years. Specifically, the idea of an entire year of future projection spelled out all in one full length book.
I always thought it would be fun—and challenging—to write an escalating story of someone’s life through the format, and unique, highly abbreviated, statement-based sentence structure of a horoscope. It is a format flush with the opportunity for humor, satire, and the reader to use their imagination. Furthermore, it is an excellent writing exercise for an author who usually leans heavily on long-winded, lyrical, run-on sentences, and lengthy paragraphs as a signature style—this is where I send out a gracious thanks to my patient and helpful editors, Julie and Amy, who assisted me on my first book, as well as this one—to work within a relatively strict set of boundaries.
The intention for the release of this book is to roll it out incrementally. Given that it is a horoscope farce, I considered releasing each of the 366 (it’s a leap year) microchapters on a daily basis. But, it will probably end up being two or three posts per week.
That’s enough shop-talk! For now, please begin to enjoy the first eight days of Carter Ettore’s Agitarius: Unabridged 12 Month Astrological Guidance…
Sunday, January 28th (Moon in Virgil to Leon 6:03 a.m.)
Do absolutely everything possible to release tension in your life, beginning with the begrudging forgiveness of those you love, despite your frustrations with them. Simultaneously, jettison those whom you hold against a cold steel pole of revile and disgust into the icy void of memory erasure. Your pleasurable appearance is amplified by donning plenteous shades of turquoise and canary yellow. Your lucky lottery is 3, 11, 31, 32, 56, 82.
Monday, January 29th (Moon in Leon)
Your week of work at the marketing agency will begin with some ire toward—and from—your boss, but don’t let it dampen your spirits. The desire to strangle your boss with bare, sweaty hands will be a formidable obstacle to surmount, but remember: your video editing suite is situated next to a large curtain wall of windows, making it nearly impossible for anyone to correct color in the afternoon hours when the sun is beating against your skin and your eyes and your brain. Your colors are magenta and cyan, which your boss is constantly asking you to “dial down”. Your lucky number is 1.
Tuesday, January 30th (Moon in Leon to Scalpio 1:36 p.m.)
Take the day off. Sometimes the best way to avoid conflict is to hide from it. Use these precious hours to foment positive change in your home life. Spend the day working with your loving girlfriend to finish moving her things into your townhouse—a task which she has been putting off throughout nearly an entire year of cohabitation. It’s a strong day for parent-child bonding; ask your “son” more about what goes on inside the Argentinians’ townhouse. Hot combo digits are 3 and 9.
Wednesday, January 31st (Moon in Scalpio)
Shake off the losses of the previous day. A stone unmoved by the will of man is perhaps not a stone at all, but unbreakable bedrock—despite man’s generous rental of a small moving truck and furniture dolly, and addition of said stone to the lease. Instead, focus on your work. Submit a request to your boss for blackout curtains in your office so as to better judge color in the videos you are editing and cut down on unwanted casts of magenta and cyan. Your power colors are black and 40% gray. Your lucky lottery is 23, 31, 34, 56, 70.
Thursday, February 1st (Moon in Scalpio to Libreto 3:44 a.m.)
Step back from the hustle-bustle of workaday stresses and your domestic romantic toils to unpack the brewing uncertainty of your “son’s” relationship with the Argentinians. Your adopted “son”—the product of your ex-wife’s first marriage to P.H. or T.K. (hereafter, “Nestor”), and not by any drop of blood from your own loins—spends late afternoons and early evenings in the home of the Argentinian neighbors. Dwell in the blessing of having available, affordable after-school babysitters as you and your mostly live-in girlfriend finish your workdays; but, be wary of the South American influence on young, uncured minds. Guard family and heart as you would silver in your pocket. Your youthful visage is magnified by adornments of calico and plum. Your luck lies with number 64.
Friday, February 2nd (Moon in Libreto)
The end of the week is a time to celebrate and showcase the dedication to your craft and professional skills. Work an extra hour or two at the marketing agency to express your allegiance to the company, as your boss has been keeping a closer-than-usual eye on you in the wake of your more frequent time off, equipment budget requests, and continued inability to “dial down the magenta”. Show gracious thanks to your girlfriend for picking up your “son” from the Argentinians. Bring her flowers or a small confectionery gift as a show of appreciation, but do not lose patience when she brushes off both you and your sublime treasures of contentment for a private evening on the phone with your neighbor, “Taffy”, from the confines of a guest bedroom loosely barricaded with throw pillows at the foot of the door. Hot combo digits are 1 and 9.
Saturday, February 3rd (Moon in Libreto to Agitarius 5:41 p.m.)
The weekend is a time for imbibing and merriment with good friends. Take care in avoiding the lack of the latter to accelerate the former until after Nestor picks up your “son”—P.H. Jr. or T.K. Jr. (hereafter, “Nestor’s Junior”)—for his bi-weekly weekend visitation outings. Enjoy tall hours in the glowstream of solitude—with Nestor’s Junior away and your girlfriend spending the day with your mother—sipping pinot noir on your small backyard patio, ensconced in the scent of rich barbecue wafting down the street from the Argentinians in the unseasonably warm February air. Your wintry personal colors of power and prosperity are charcoal and oatmeal.
Sunday, February 4th (Moon in Agitarius)
Sunday, in the Christian faith of your upbringing, is a time for rest. Spend the day reinvigorating your mental, spiritual, and physical energy stores by reflecting on what is most important to you. God. Family. Temperance. Push down the gut-reaction jealousy pangs in your stomach when your neighbor—A.Y. or R.D.—brings home his brand new, fully loaded Shelby Mustang and parks it in his driveway with the hood and both doors open. Avoid being noticed peeking through your dusty Venetian blinds and, instead, take Nestor’s Junior over to look into the hood area where the gurgling, beastly engine is jostling with restrained menace. He will ask repeatedly if your neighbor is “rich”. Smother the urge to refer to your neighbor as “Mustang rich” when explaining the value and rewards of varied levels of hard work. Share an unusual salutation with A.Y. or R.D.’s wife, Taffy, who will address you with guarded tones and shadows of pity behind her eyes. Congratulate your neighbor for his material accolade by slapping the front passenger-side fender of his new car as you declare, “Good lookin’, Cowboy!” Numbers of note are 94 and 03.