The Writing Moment

I love reading and writing. I think I’m learning to love editing and revising, but they’re more challenging.

Writing is a matter of switching on my imagination and playing various games. These games are typically, ‘what if’ and ‘who did’ variations, putting the characters into interesting and challenging situations, and then finding the resolution of those created problems. I write these in bursts and then spend time refining and expanding on them.

I’m a pantser, as it’s called. Pantsers are also sometimes called organic writers; we don’t outline, or outline very little.

A problem with my method of writing from the hip is what happens next is often a surprise. Characters often go into unexpected directions. As I write then, I need to address how they veered from my original intentions. Then I edit to some degree, to confirm it all somewhat fits together.

Editing and revising requires me to delve more deeply into these matters, also addressing pacing, and clarifying as I do. These activities are seriously embraced once a draft has become solid enough to start resembling a novel.

Editing and revising requires more discipline, and I’m not the most disciplined individual. Burdened with its own challenges, editing and revising also brings greater reward. As many writers will say, the first few drafts are learning the story, finding the plot, and understanding the characters. For me, the editing and revising parts are about developing authenticity and depth.

Then comes reading. I mean writing others’ works, whether it’s fiction or non-fiction, and any of the sub-genres.

I often limit my fiction reading while I’m writing. I know from my experiences that fiction reading causes me to challenge what’s up with my own fiction in progress. So I avoid it.

But all reading also inspires me to write. Non-fiction pulls me into a different direction, of course, which ends up costing me time as I pursue knowledge and expansion of things I seek to understand more deeply or clearly.

Once I’m finished with drafts and enter the editing and revision stage, I happily jump back into fiction reading. Where fiction reading now becomes a problem in that stage is that I need to divide my time between the book I’m enjoying reading, and the book I’m enjoying creating.

You know, though, I have it pretty good if that’s the summation of my life’s problems.

Just for the record, I’m now reading the second book in Naomi Novik’s Temeraire series. A creation of alternative history, it’s written like historic fiction with a fantasy kicker. That kicker is the existence of dragons. These dragons are intelligent and well-spoken. Yes, they speak, and they develop solid, beautiful relationships with their people.

They’re also used as instruments of war. A great deal of the first book dealt with dragon strategy in conjunction with naval warfare, and the tending and treatment of dragons.

It’s all set in the era of the Napoleonic Wars, but fascinating politic variations emerge, as well as challenges built into that era regarding class and sex roles. Lot of fun to read. I can imagine writing it was terrific fun.

As far as non-fiction reading, I’m now into The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny and Murder by David Grann. I’d previously read his books, The Lost City of Z and Killers of the Flower Moon. I enjoy his writing style and the information they convey about things that I didn’t know. I know so little about this world, and it’s fun and exciting to learn more.

I don’t hesitate to recommend any of the mentioned books. My hope is that someday at least one of my efforts will be regarded and enjoyed in the same way that I enjoyed these.

Floofservant

Floofservant (floofinition) 1. An animal who serves others. Origins: 1920s, United States.

In use: “After former President, George H.W. Bush, passed away, many people were moved by the sight of Sully, Bush’s longtime floofservant, beside the casket.”

In use: “Pudditat, a stray cat with a rep as a bully, became a floofservant, acting as a guide floof for Tervel, a blind farm dog.”

2. A person or individual who attends to animals’ needs and desires. Origins: 2000s, United States, Internet.

In use: “Many people end up as floofservants, voluntarily working to reduce the stray cat population and managing feral cat colonies so felines have safer, healthier, and happier lives.”

In use: “Rescuing a dog can be noble and rewarding work, but people who do so end up virtually being a floofservant as months of work is done to restore the canine’s emotional and physical health.”

Another Driving Dream

In this dream, I’d driven to a pre-arranged place where I met up with friends.

I was younger, in my twenties, I think, and the others’ age was in that same realm. While I knew everyone in the dream and considered them a friend, only one was a real life friend. This was my sister-in-law, B, who I’ve known since I was in tenth grade in high school.

We were meeting as a group to decide where to go. A brief discussion led to someone suggesting, “Let’s go to southern California.”

“Yes, let’s go to San Diego,” another said.

Further discussion changed our destination to La Jolla.

Pushback rose. “La Jolla? It’s nice but there’s nothing there.”

“There’s the ocean,” others answered. La Hoya was confirmed as where we were going.

I’d been to La Jolla a few times. Once on vacation with my wife, and three other times when my employer, US Surgical Corporation, sent me for trade shows. I like the small and picturesque place. Going there pleased me.

I asked, “Are we all driving?” Because we’d all driven cars there. It seemed to me that one reason we’d met was to share cars, letting us share driving, too, and cutting cost, not just in money, but in what our driving did to the environment. My car was a large black BMW hybrid sedan.

Nobody seemed to hear my question. All seemed busy just gabbing. I called, “Does anyone want to go with me?” Again, there wasn’t any response.

I went to my car to prepare to leave. Part of that was trying to attach an fabric doughnut pillow to my car’s rear. Even in the dream, I wasn’t sure why I was doing this, but, paradoxically, it was important to me in the dream.

The doughnut was attached. Onlookers were impressed, and thought my solution clever. Worries were rising for me that the doughnut would be dragged along the roads and ruined. So I worked on it more, becoming satisfied at least.

Returning to my group, I asked once again, “Does anyone want to ride with me?”

Damian, a young man, said, “I will, if you’re offering.”

“Great,” I replied. “I’m over there.”

I was walking, talking, and pointing as this went on. Damian was on his back. I noticed several others in the group were on their backs, awake and talking, but looking up. Possessions and cluttered surrounded them.

Eager to get on the road, I went to my car, slid into the driver’s seat, and waited for Damian to appear. Impatience growing, I finally got out and went looking for him.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said after I found him. “I’m going to drive myself.”

Exasperated, I called out, “Does anyone else want to ride with me?”

“I will,” my sister-in-law answered. “Where you parked?”

After showing her, I headed back to my car to wait. I was pleased she was going to ride with me because I enjoy her company.

That’s where the dream ended.

My first thought was that the BMW isn’t a cheap ride. But does that signify anything? No, The Neurons replied, except is has value.

Most of my focus went to the frustration of trying to get the seven of us moving. Why seven, I wondered, and why my sis-in-law.

My SIL is someone who I respect. Things weren’t going well for her after high school graduation, but she changed directions and reinvented herself. I admire the willpower and determination she asserted in those years. She’s a confident and charismatic person.

As for seven, I undersand it’s supposed to be one of those spiritual, powerful numbers. Doing some research on the net, I saw that it can mean you’re on the right path.

From all this, I created an explanation that I’m on the right path for what I want to achieve, but I’m exasperated by my slow progress, and that it’s messier than I like. But if I focus, as SIL did, I can make it.

Either that, or The Neurons are playing mind games with me again.

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: animated

Slidding into place like a giant oceanliner docking, Saturday, October 21, 2023, arrived in Ashlandia, where the coffee shops are pleasant, and the library is above average.

Cooler temperatures prevail today. Several large masses of feathery white clouds breached the southeastern horizon and now master half of Ashlandia. They block the sun. With those clouds in place and the Earth’s position on its orbit relative to the sun, it’s 53 F now and will reach 75 today, chillier than yesterday. Tomorrow is expected to deliver rain and a high of 61 F as summer’s efforts to hold on slide away and autumn more firmly asserts itself.

Lot of news this week in war and politics. Keeping up with the mess that is Israel, Palestine, Gaza, and Hamas, is wearying and sickening. It’s complicated, and war, with the killing and destruction which war brings, will do nothing to make anyone feel better. When will that mess be resolved enough to achieve a lasting and settled peace?

Of course, the mess in Congress continues. This is the one caused by the majority party, the GOP, voting out their speaker. A contentious hard rightwing gang forced the vote. Democrats, never pleased with Kevin McCarthy, a Trumpublican, were given the opportunity to rid themselves of him, and did. Now Repubublicans, the parents of this mess, are blaming Democrats for voting against McCarthy.

That’s quite laughable, isn’t it? Democrats are the more progressive and liberal party between the two parties. Republicans who routinely denounce Democrats, try to derail the Democrats’ agenda and counter the Democrats’ policies, now blame the Democrats for not supporting the Republican hard right speaker.

Enought of politics, although I could air grievances againts GOP for days. Instead, let’s turn to crime.

Interesting developments in former POTUS Donald J Trump’s court cases, right? Up in New York, things seem to be slidding down a long messy slope for Trump. This is the civil trial in which Trump is being accused of fraud in how he valuates his real estate holdings and developments.

First, the judge fined Trump for not obeying the gag order imposed on select aspects of the trial. This is because Trump posted a photo of the court clerk with a Democratic politician, Chuck Schumer, with the misleading caption, “Schumer’s girlfriend.”

Next, Trump got upset and vocal over witness testimony. That prompted warnings from the judge to Trump about his deportment.

“Inside the courtroom, which is closed to cameras, Trump grew irritated as Larson testified. Trump’s lawyers were seeking to undercut the state’s claims that his top corporate deputies played games to inflate the values of his properties and pad his bottom line.

“In a series of questions, Trump lawyer Lazaro Fields sought to establish that Larson had, at one point, undershot the projected 2015 value of a Trump-owned Wall Street office building by $114 million. Larson said the “values were not wrong — it’s what we knew at the time.”

“Trump threw up his hands during the exchange.”

Meanwhile, in Trump’s Georgia trial, two co-defendants have taken plea agreements. This case involves charges against Trump and nineteen others in a RICO trial. The accused are charged with interfering with the 2020 POTUS election, among other charges. The two co-defendants, Sydney Powell of kracken fame, and Kenneth Chesebro, took the deals in exchange for testifying as witnesses.

It’s such a complex affair, it’s difficult to project how these moves will ultimately affect the outcome. At the least, though, Trump who acts imperiously and demands loyalty, will be deeply angry.

Now, to music. I was at a store with my wife yesterday afternoon, buying birthday cards for friends and relatives. I heard an elderly man shout, “Is anyone going to serve me?” I stepped out and immediately spotted him at the mouth of another aisle about ten feet away. He might have been eighty years old from his wizened appearance, and about five feet tall, in sagging jeans and work boots. I don’t know what was going on but a sales person was hurrying to him.

Well, just as quickly, The Neurons spooled up Bob Dylan with his 1979 song, “Gotta Serve Somebody” in the mental music stream. The song was still playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark resented).

The song has Dylan’s unique style and insights. The song lists multiple people by profession or position in life, always beginning, “You may be.” But after listing these people, Dylan asserts, “But you’re going to have to serve somebody, yes indeed.” The implications are, we’re all beholden to someone, even if it’s the devil or God.

Stay pos, be safe, and stay calm and strong. Coffee has been imbibed, I can report. Here’s the video.

Cheers

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑