Ze tourists, they do nothing!

1) A statue of Jan Neruda, whose last name Pablo Neruda co-opted because his father did not want him to become a poet. And as Bart Simpson said, "I am familiar with the work of Pablo Neruda."

2) Prague's replica of the Eiffel Tower (not to scale). It stands atop Petrin Hill, and if you climb up, you get incredible views of the city. But the line is long, and atop Petrin Hill you already see the entire city.

3) The line to enter a labyrinth of mirrors. Maybe next time I'll go on a rainy weekday.

Less Artsy, More Fartsy

I mentioned in a post the other day that part of the work I'm doing on my novel requires some arts and crafts stuff involving posterboard. Well, I spent about 45 minutes yesterday doing the arts and crafts.

See, my novel spans over thirty years; several of those years I wasn't alive for (my oldest brother wasn't even alive for a couple of them), and a few I was alive for I don't remember so well. So I took two pieces of posterboard and cut them into three horizontal strips each. Now I've got a timeline of six pieces of poster with six years on each. Now I can list what happens when in the novel and what might be historically relevant (certain issues of Playboy, for example).

I doubt my own work here has any interest for anyone, but it's worth noting that there's precedent: William Faulkner did something similar for his novel A Fable. And now that I've just jinxed my novel by comparing it to Faulkner, I'm going to go commit harikari.