Latest excerpt from my novel in progress on Tuolumne County

I'm having fun creating lots of characters and this one is is a homeless, burn-out hippie who acts like a minor narrator. 

“Step Five: figure out your thing. It’s like art. Ya can’t just be like every Tom, Sid and Nancy. A copy cat’s a dirty rat. Sure, you say yer emulating and blending and all that shit. Wanna know how many people know my name? By the way, it’s not ‘Crazy Shopping Cart Lady!’ You want to be the fucking real deal like me? Then you have to give up some creatures of comfort. You gotta strip it down. I gotta friend who lived in London and punks don’t have shit. People aren’t going to know your first name— that’s for the geeks and nerds. Maybe they’ll recognize you for that clever, iconic trademark trench coat-thing, but it’s not why they are going to remember you. It might all come back to the hair. That’s where you really, really dedicate yourself. The haircut has to be one that pisses off even your Granny. And it can’t be some style that you smooth down to go to church. Yer a punk, a goth drop, a black-head. Trust me, you gotta give up that opiate for the masses crap. It's anarchy and atheism for you kid. Hey, don’t walk away when I’m talking to you. My name’s Barbara and sure your necklace is badass, but your book bag is a preppy knockoff! Me, I got the sunglasses to kill for. Been wearing 'em since Woodstock you little wanker!”