when your creative process is on the cob
There are many ways to consume corn. Sometimes creamy, others times syrip, corn is everywhere.
Summer in Nova Scotia means locally grown corn on the cob.
Eating corn on the cob is an odd thing. It’s messy. It gets between your teeth. You can do it many different ways. One person might beaver their way through. I know a person so disturbed by the shape of the corn on a cob and what it reminded her of that she would use a fork to pry it from the cob.
Last night I took things one step more weird. I ate my corn on the cob one niblet at a time. My hope was to extract each kernel perfectly. Wiggling each niblet free, I felt like a dentist feeding on my extractions. The process was still messy. Corn juice was flying everywhere. My children were appalled, my wife mildly annoyed.
You know I can fill up the windshield washer fluid perfectly fine on my own, don’t you? That was fiction.
Of course it was fiction. I fictionalize everything I’m writing here. It’s my role as a storyteller to tak…