Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Another cautionary tale for writers

I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that the writer who burned down his garage and part of his office was muttering lines of dialogue to himself when the accident occurred. From The Nevada Appeal:

An acclaimed novelist lost his office in Carson City on Thursday when he threw a lit piece of paper into gasoline.

Fantasy writer David Eddings, 75, said he was using water to flush out the gas tank of his broken-down Excalibur sports car, when some fluid leaked. In a lapse of judgment he readily admitted, Eddings lit a piece of paper and threw into the puddle to test if it was still flammable. The answer came in an orange torrent.

Poor Mr. Eddings. There but for the grace of God (and the fact that it is my husband who tinkers with that old MG in our garage), go I.

Eddings said his intention to was to prevent a fire - he was afraid to leave a tank full of gasoline in a car that had gone kaput - but instead he did the opposite.

"One word comes to mind," the renowned wordsmith said as he stood in a pajama shirt and slippers. "Dumb."

Believe us, Mr. Eddings, we understand. And we're very glad nobody was hurt.

(Link swiped from Neil Gaiman's blog.)

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Elle Fredrix said...

Oh, that poor man! So glad he didn't get hurt.

We all have our moments, don't we?

Heather said...

Oh, dear. I don't mess with cars, but this sounds like one of my "I wonder's" like the time I wondered what would happen if I lit a whole box of matches on fire (not one of those complimentary books, mind you). I dropped the blaze onto a carpet, stamped it out, then ran into the bathroom of the hotel lobby. I came out all wide-eyed to see a cop.
"Smells like something's burning," I very astutely commented.
"Did you see anyone here?" he asked.
I shook my head no. He believed me.
Mr. Policeman, if you're reading this, I'm sorry.