Author: Michael Seidel

Science fiction, fantasy, and mystery writer. Singer (sorry, no shows) & nudist (in my home). Beer, cat, cheese, coffee, pie and wine friend. Left IBM and Silicon Valley for the southern Oregon life but I miss the ocean. We're too far inland. Gotta move.

Lapses

I fumbled through routines. Did I feed the cats? Yes, I remembered, I did.

But I didn’t bring in the paper. Oh, yeah, go get it.

I forgot my gloves. Right, go get them.

Jesus, I forgot that refrigerator light bulb. That’s right, that’s right, I planned to go to Ace and get that after I’m done writing, and wanted that bulb with me. Christ, go get it.

You better think. Do you have everything else?

I thought about it. I’d begun the morning by thinking about an intense dream I had. Then the muses took over, writing in my head. They revealed why the other character hadn’t joined yet, and gave me more insight into her eventual appearance.

Scenes kept flowing through me on an unstoppable course. As it happens when the muses push hard, my imagination became switched on full. Story and characters flowed, along with poems and floofinitions.

In the end, though, I had to shove all that aside and re-focus energy and attention on April Showers 1921. It became one of those sessions of typing fast and hard, leaving my coffee almost full, just, I think, a sip and a gulp consumed before I launched into full writing mode.

Finally, three thousand words later, the muses relented. A stop was ordered. I reckoned seventy-five minutes had passed. It felt like I’d totally been in that church were the scenes were taking place, and not in a coffee shop table, typing on a laptop. I’d ignored my posture, of course, so my shoulders were achy from being hunched over and typing as fast as I could.

Good day of writing like crazy. These days are not terribly frequent, but I love them when they come.

2

Foot-floof

Foot-floof (floofinition) – a housepet who likes to sit or lay on someone’s foot or feet as part of their expression of affection.

In use: “He didn’t know where and how they’d learn it but whenever he stopped, the dog sat on one foot and the cat sat on the other, rendering it impossible to ignore them. He believed that was the plan. They never got on his lap; they always were on a foot, originating their nickname, the foot-floofs.”

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Smoke

I smell a pipe and remember Dad.

Cigars remind me of my smoking fad.

Mother dear arises with sights of Salems and Kools.

Pall Malls and Marlboros put me in the office with chain-smoking fools.

But marijuana rolls me back in time

to my youth, when a hazy high was sublime.

 

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Subfloofinal

Subfloofinal (floofinition) – a housepet’s ability to do something without people noticing.

In use: “Despite her awareness that the cats were fond of stealing food off her plate and had dibs on anything brought into the house, she put her plate on the table beside her and sat down to read. When she did, her Bombay Black employed subfloofinal tactics to steal several pieces and take them to the floor, where she and the other two cats happily devoured them.”

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Today’s choice was one of several songs in my morning stream (which kinda sounds like something I was peeing out, doesn’t it?). I owe it’s stream presence to a cat, specifically the Ginger Prince, a.k.a. Meep, alias Papi, but also sometimes called the Blade. The youngest of our cats, he still enjoys roaming at night. The house quickly bores him, so he wants out. Then, it’s cold and raining, so he wants in. But it’s boring in the house, so he wants out. But it’s cold and raining, so he wants in. And always, as he’s going in and out, he’s asking me, “What are you doing? Want to play?”

Either way, in or out, he spends the day sleeping, bathing, eating, with a little playing on the side, but he likes the night life better.

From 1979, here are The Cars with “Let’s Go”.

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Something in the Coffee

There’s something in the coffee, some sort of quantum additive that accelerates time. That must be the case, because I can’t believe that January, 2019, is done. How else can this be explained? Over eight twelve percent of the new year has passed. Can we still call it a new year, or is it now a mildly used year?

Hoping all you writers and dreamers out there are keeping up, pacing yourself with the pursuit of your goals and dreams. I’ve started out strong, I’m pleased to mention. Four on Kyrios is out with twenty agents.

Meanwhile, I’m writing a new novel, April Showers 1921. This is a return to ground processed before, a young adult SFF novel. The novel concept and cover streamed into my dreams at the year’s beginning, and I took off after it.

AS1921 has been a challenge to write. Numero uno, I’m writing in a much younger voice. It’s harder to get into their skins. Numero dos, scenes and dialogue keep pouring into me. I try keeping up, but, numero trey, the novel is much faster paced than I expected. I keep challenging that pace, suggesting to my muses, “Aren’t we going too fast?” They tell me, “Just write what we tell you.”

Yes, the muses are demanding and arrogant as always. I don’t know why I’m always expecting them to be friendlier and more relaxed. I take what they dish out because I don’t want to scare them off. I’ll endure their demands as long as they keep delivering.

I’ll write what and as they tell me now because I can always edit, revise, and slow the pace later. They vex me, though. They’ve given me five main characters, and yet they’ve kept one of those characters off the page through the first four chapters. I’ve asked them, how is that character going to join the story? When? They’ve stayed mute about that, but typing that sentence just triggered the flash of a scene. I’m beginning to suspect the muses are keeping some things back because they see how overwhelmed I am by their pace. I would be angry, but I’m too grateful.

Time to write like crazy, at least one more time in 2019. Cheers

6

Misfloofievous

Misfloofievous (floofinition) – irresponsibly playful housepet; a housepet who’s playful in a naughty, teasing way.

In use: “Smart and misfloofievous, the black lab quickly understood the people’s patterns and habits. Being people of habit, they retired to the den to watch television in the evenings. As soon as one went that direction, she raced ahead, found the remote control, picked it up in her and began a game of keep-away. She was always pulling floofnanigans.”

3

A Dream of Changing Countries

It was an uplifting experience, although strange. 

I was with several groups of men. We’d decided we were changing countries. I connected with a few others to hunt for country candidates. An adviser was telling us what our options were.

My first choice was Japan. I headed to the JP room with a few other men and our adviser. We entered, and then our adviser had us wait while he checked on availability. Coming back, he told us, “Sorry, but there aren’t any openings.”

A little disappointed but still optimistic, we selected another place. I knew the name in the dream but I don’t know it now. Our adviser checked and confirmed, “Yes, eight openings are available.”

Only three of us went, however, with the others backing out. We had to answer questions to be accepted in the new country, and also to put on a shirt with cultural significance to that country.

After putting the shirts on, we entered an office. Bleachers filled with people were to one side. Most of the people were young women. The first man of my group went to a desk. There he was asked eight questions. He passed.

It was my turn. I went to the desk and was asked the eight questions. They were so simple and basic, such as, “What is your name? What is your favorite color?” The process amused me as I wondered, are there wrong answers? I passed and then waited for my friend to go through the process. Then the three of us were sworn in as new citizens and congratulated. A spattering of applause followed.

Now citizens of another country, we walked toward the exit. I remembered that I still had the other shirt on. Wanting my own shirt, I took the shirt off, gave it to someone, and then walked back, shirtless, looking for my own shirt, with everyone watching me. I found this quite funny. The dream ended with me finding my shirt, but leaving it off, I left.

To me, the choice of Japan was interesting. When I lived in Japan, it was a successful and enjoyable time, and I was very happy. That it wasn’t available meant, you can’t go back, but there are other choices. These will give me new experiences (changing the shirt, see?), but they’ll be like Japan, successful and enjoyable.

And it’s my choice.

 

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