Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
MPS has the tapes on Trump’s shoes.
We went out for breakfast this morning. Over at the next table, we heard a woman rave about what a great choice J.D. Vance was as a veep choice. “He’s so smart,” she enthused.
Sure, smart. I’d say Vance has the morals, ethics, and principles of a snake, but that would be an insult to snakes.
He has the same morals, ethics, and principles of Trump, though. They’re a perfect match and neither can be trusted.
I’m at the point in the novel-in-progress’s progress where I entertain notions of the next book which I want to write.
First, I’m always doing that, no matter where I am in the writing, editing, and revising process. Ideas and characters are stacked up in my head like a giant Costco warehouse. But now it’s reached the point where I’ll transition from mind mutterings into earnest application, chasing a direction, building characters, and so on.
Now, I have one novel in the works where I wrote about a third of it and shared it with friends earlier this year. They said, “That’s great, do more of that.” But there are some ideas which have been lurking in my mind’s niches for a longer period. Some light flashed on them today.
Suddenly a concept jumps into being almost fully conceived. An opening paragraph begins getting typed in my mind. Main characters clear their throats and step up. Then, best of all, a neon-lit title leaps into the scene.
Some muse is behind it all and put together an impressive campaign to convince me to pursue their idea. And it worked.
I’m eager to start writing.
Mood: Coffeebunctious
Good morning, good day, good afternoon, and good evening. Today is Tuesday, July 16, 2024. It’s now 81 F in Ashland, cloudy, a bit humid, stiff and dull with heat. Our high will be 99 F. Clouds like pleasure craft in the sea have come to the harbor of our sky.
We were coming back from running errands yesterday when the sky darkened. A large, swollen cloud mass blocked the sun, bringing up a wind. Rain veils hovered over the southern mountains’ trees. Could we get rain? my wife and I wondered.
Back home, we questioned Alexa. She assured us that rain wasn’t happening.
Then thunder steamrolled our street. Huh. A few minutes later came a lightning streak. More thunder. The power flickered and danced. Then soft rain pelted the hot ground, summoning petrichor from its depths. The temperature flew from the mid 90s to 86 F. Doors and windows were opened as the thin, light rain drizzled over us like light frosting and left. Thunder continued for another thirty minutes but that was the only band member there as lightning and precipitation hustled on. The temperature recovered to hit 90 but the evening cooled fast. The night was pleasantly chill, and a deep slumber was enjoyed.
One of the things that come with lightning in the west is worry about it striking the ground and igniting fires. Yes, that happened, quite a bit. Many were immediately found and outed. A few are still out there, watched and prioritized to be addressed by the proper government agencies.
The Neurons are feeding One Republic with “Counting Stars” from 2013 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark steamed). It was the line, “Lately, I’ve been, I’ve been losing sleep, dreaming about the things we could be,” which hooked The Neurons. I don’t blame them; I like the line as well. Then I sort of hooked onto later line myself: “Everything that kills me makes me feel alive.” As a person living with hypertension and medicating for it and dealing with edema, I make strenuous efforts to avoid sodium. My bod and sodium don’t get along and the less little bit each day triggers swelling and exasperation. Ah, life gives us each a unique burden to carry, unless you’re some kind of strangely fortunate one like TFG. It’s a uplifting song for me, nice beat, with some stirring lyrics aptly delivered.
Be strong, remain positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee and I have been sharing a pleasant morning. Hope you’ve been doing the same. Here’s the music video. Off we go. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 