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.

The Writing Moment

He awoke writing in his head, picking up the story where he’d stopped the previous day. Cats were first fed because he wasn’t inexperienced. The cats would haunt home with song until they were fed, and, you know, responsibilities, right? An agreement existed which must be honored on his end.

He settled into his office chair, typing fast for fifteen minutes. Insulated in his fictional world, he heard his wife’s activities as she pursued her post-rising rituals. Mental countdown beginning, he typed faster, racing through the scene to grab it all. The cats joined him, one on the windowsill behind him, speaking to his back, the other jumping up onto his desk, heading for his right side, waiting for him to reach for the mouse, intercepting his hand with a nose mash as he tried selecting a line to copy, paste, move. Then his wife entered talking.

He didn’t know what she said. Muses still shouted words in his head, but he knew the writing moment was done, at least for the moment.

0

Sunday’s Theme Music

When the sky rolled over again, we saw land. Scrambling off the raft and through the water, we came to a shore. Jersey solemnly pronounced, “This is Sunday.”

Now, it’s September 4, 2022, Labor Day in the United States, a holiday to celebrate working people. Many must work during the celebration because work never ends. Our smoke is better today, but good news is thin when it comes to the fires and fighting them. Fingers crossed, positive energy for those areas, prayers if that’s your thing, for them. Air quality for us is hovering at 100 but the smell is much better today. My eyes are only tearing a little, there’s less ache in the back of my throat, and the snot faucet has been turned off. I call that an improvement.

Only reached 85 F yesterday. Winds shifted and pressures moved. Today it’s 18 C now with a high of 90 F lurking out there. They’re forecasting a steady rise back to triple digits this week, and then a general cool down as we laze toward autumn. A leisurely sunrise was witnessed by those looking to the East at 6:39 AM. Look west at 7:40, and you’ll catch the ‘setting’ sun.

I have “Candida”, a 1970 song by Tony Orlando and Dawn in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons put it there when the cats and I went out back to do a sniff test. Lovely cold air and no bonfire scents made me think of the air as fresh and clean. Those words are lyrics in “Candida” so The Neurons fired up the song faster than you can say, “What?” Tony Orlando and Dawn wasn’t slotted in between The Who, Led Zep, and Pink Floyd as part of my regular music rotation, but the group made it big. Their sound regularly graced AM pop stations and television variety shows. Mom liked their songs, so whenever we were in the car and one came up, it wasn’t unusual for her to tip the volume up two notches.

“Candida” is a repeat. The last time The Neurons volunteered the song was in Feb. of 2019, and it was because of dreaming. See how The Neurons work my mind?

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, etc. The coffee signal has just gone up, and I must respond. Have a Happy Labor Day, if it applies to you. If not, have a happy day. Here’s Tony and the girls. Cheers

2

Taste. What I Watched – and Didn’t

Maybe it’s me. Oh, and my wife.

We’re not enamored with either the GOT or LOTR prequels. What are they called again?

We watched the maiden episodes of each of these new prequels. Yes, it’s but one episode of each which we watched. We had our own opinions about them. I’ll not interpret my wife’s thinking, but she was disappointed. I’ll say that I didn’t find anyone to root for in either. They threw so much at me, dangling storylines, trying to force tension while showering me with music and CGI, that it all elicited a weary shrug for me. Yes, it’s just one episode. Needs to grow on me, right? Give it time, right?

Right.

Much better in my mind were several other shows. One that we’re watching now is The Nevers on HBO MAX. It’s a compelling, twisted, and complicated science fiction fantasy speculative fiction beast. Terrific acting, excellent production values, tantalizing spoonfuls of past, present, and future possibilities are regularly dribbled out. We cheer for many on that show.

Second, one we finished, was Paper Girls on Prime. Those were four girls and young women which we enjoyed watching and cheering, with an intriguing and different take on time travel. It was a fascinating look at life as well, about what we try and hope to become, and what we share with the world. I hope the sophomore season is as entertaining as the first. Doesn’t always happen for us. Like The Boys. Loved year one. Year two did little for us.

Of course, some, like The Umbrella Academy and Stranger Things stayed strong for me. My wife didn’t feel the same with either one, as far as I know, but I don’t want to elaborate on that because I didn’t follow her reasoning.

Likewise, we didn’t enjoy Picard season two as so many did, but Strange New Worlds delivered a solid taste of the Star Trek franchise.

We know that taste is subjective. Need the truth of that? Talk to others about food and drink, like pizza and coffee. You’ll see.

Others will love these new series no matter what. Others will never ‘get them’. Like, as fer instance, I enjoyed The Sopranos but had friends who disliked the lying, killing, and violence. Justified always engaged me but friends and others dismissed it as a cowboy soap opera. Yeah, huh? Okay, maybe some, but it had smart dialogue and strong acting.

I also enjoyed the Dune series when it came out, but it didn’t stay with me the way that the novels did. Of course, I was a young and impressionable human when I read the books. Never at all got into the Foundation series. It was a strike out for me. Again, others loved it.

While I loved Game of Thrones and enjoyed the Lord of the Rings movies, I’m dubious that prequels will ever surmount the favorites upon the top of my list, The Last Kingdom and The Expanse. That could change. Someone might bring out The Murderbot Diaries as a successful series. And I’d be interested in seeing how someone handles When Women Were Dragons.

While I’m at it, I’m bemused that Quantum Leap has been rebooted, and that The Sopranos have a prequel series. While I’m at it, did you hear of the Hulu show called Reboot about a reboot of a once popular show? Perry Mason has already been redone. Multiple Sherlock Holmes versions exist and compete. Magnum PI and Hawaii 5-0 were rebooted. What show is next? I doubt they can do I Love Lucy. It wouldn’t be the same without Lucy, would it, although they brought us Lucy. It’s all about finding something that satisfies and entertains. That’s a pretty hard task.

Now excuse me, it’s back to my novel writing for me. Cheers

4

Antefloofent

Antefloofent (floofinition) – An event or action which precipitates an animal’s activity.

In use: “In many households, the antefloofent for animals interrupting their naps is the some sound, smell, sight, or thought that food is being opened, eaten, or contemplated.”

0

Lastallday’s Theme Music

Touching a sword to the day’s shoulder, I dubbed Saturday Lastallday. I’m alluding to the smoke. Fires are on three sides. Two in California and one, Rum Creek, in Oregon. The newest is Mill Fire by Weed down I-5. It’s like bonfires lit the night out there as a burnt wood smell permeates existence and ash collects on plants and cars. Depresses the bejeesus out of me, hence the name, Lastallday, as in, I hope this air doesn’t last all day.

Bad as we have it, far worse for the people enduring the smoke and fire aspect of it. Evacuations are spreading, animals are fleeing, people are praying, and they’re losing homes and possessions. Another weary year of drought, fire, and smoke with reports coming in that it’s only going to get worse in the coming years.

Hi. Today is September 3, 2022. Sunrise lit our environment in red gold as Sol rays were given scarlet hues by smoke particles at 6:39 this morning. Not a cloud in the sky, we’re bathing in cool air, 17 C, which would be lovely if it wasn’t smoke laden. A high of 100 F is in the works before the night shift takes over at 7:42 PM.

My wife is bummed out. Lake of the Woods Resort isn’t far away. Each summer Saturday, they have a BBQ and then a southern Oregon band plays and everyone dances. We’d created a tradition of trekking up there a few times during summer to celebrate and have fun. Well, COVID holed the tradition for the last two years. This year, it just fell apart. Our June plans fell through, and now our Labor Day plans have gone kerplunk. She’s in a mood, which puts me in a mood. The blazing hot, smoky day does little to alleviate our outlooks. Hope it doesn’t last all day.

I really like that expression, ‘bummed out’. Certainly stocks my mind with interesting imagery.

I’m not much help for my wife. Focused on writing after denying myself the opportunity while other things were pursued at her behest. First, the push to stay in the military. Get that retirement. “You’ll write when you retire from the Air Force,” she told me. Then I retired in 1995 and wanted to move somewhere to make that plan so. “I have a career here,” she said, referring to her advertising employment in Silicon Valley, SF-San Jose California edition. “So I don’t want to move.” But also, I needed to work because that place is hella expensive. After a few years, her employment was over and I was embedded in corporate life, which lasted a few decades, because someone needed to bring in income. And here we are.

Yeah, I’m bitter. Sorry about the self-pity spiel. I’ll try not to do that again.

Checked on Mom. She and her partner are still recovering from COVID. Mom is on molnupiravir under an FDA EUA.

Catching note of my mood, The Neurons saw that I yearned for other times, for times in the near past when I could walk outside, breathe pleasant air and plan activities without worrying about wildfires, smoke, or COVID-19. The Neurons fished around those circulating thoughts and drew out Nirvana and “Come As You Are” from 1992. The Neurons argue that my thoughts reflect my mood of 1992, when the future looked so bright, I had to wear shades. Right.

Here’s the tune. Time to get some magic elixir in me, ye ol’ black brew, kaffee. Test negative, stay positive, and on and on and on. Cheers

8

Idea Wall Dream

Weird little dream. I came to a wall of large beige tiles outside. It was a corner piece. Stopping with others, I looked at the wall and listened as some spoke. It was a small group of people. I knew about half of them. They were guessing about what the wall was about and I responded, oh, it’s an idea wall. Seeing the ideas (none remembered now), I started rearranging the ideas into an affinity grouping, laughing as I did this. The others began recognizing what I was talking about. Most of them then left as I stayed with it. One or two took ideas with them, which didn’t bother me at all. I was enjoying doing this work by myself, studying ideas and re-arranging them. The wall was by an intersection of two paths, and people constantly passed. Some stopped to ask questions. A few asked for ideas and carried them away when they left. Others arrived with ideas. A few placed them on the wall themselves, some after consulting me. Others were haphazard. Shrugging that off, I just correctly arranged the ideas again.

Dream end

1

The Writing Moment

She sidled in, cool eyes caressing me, mystery floating around her like a cloud of perfume. Sitting, the muse crossed her legs, an orchestra of graceful and deliberate, unhurried motion. No wasted notes, nothing extraneous. “You ready to do this?”

I nod, bewitched by her voice.

Black diamond eyes sparkling, her pale smile shifts with quicksilver fluidity. “Then begin.”

The muse can be so seductive. After nodding again, I started writing like crazy one more time.

0

Flooftense

Flooftense (floofinition) Behavior done by a floof or to a floof to fool others.

In use: “The dog quickly learned that if he looked surprised and stared at the window, the others would look to see what he was looking at, enabling him to steal seats, blankets, pillows, and food under this flooftense.”

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑