Come on, liar man...
Monday night, my brother said to me, "Come on, liar man, weave your web." You see, I'm a very good liar. After all the practice I've had, I should be. Sometimes this really bothers David. Not that he's a stickler for the truth, but.. well, it's hard to explain. That's not the point here. So, that line just kept playing in my head over and over again. "Come on, liar man, weave your web." All day yesterday, I wrestled with it, until POOF! I had the answer I'd been seeking for quite some time. The answer to an unrelated problem. Again, the novel. I needed a fifth housemate for Pete Winter's house. And there he was, the lair man. "Come on, lair man, weave your web." The liar man can do the things that you and I cannot. Being the liar man means never having to say you're sorry. The liar man is Gully Foyle (my literary hero). Now the liar man needs a name. I want to call him "the liar man," but I don't think I can pull it off. I'm leaning toward Friday, though I don't know if that's the liar man's last name or if his parents (damned hippies) gave him a weird first name.