Wednesday’s Bumper Sticker

I’m curious about the genesis of this one. Makes you speculate, though….

 

Having secured the windows, and alone in his house, he opened the secret compartment that held his coffee stash. Breathing deeply of the smell released, he gasped with delight. It’d been two days, and he needed a cuppa.

Pounding on the door kicked his heartbeat into a gallop. Closing the compartment, he waved away the smell. Thinking more clearly, he turned on the exhaust fan.

They pounded again. As he said, “Coming, just a minute,” a woman on the other said side,  “Caffeine police. Open the door, or we’re kicking it in.”

The day he’d feared had arrived.

A Ray of Light

I opened the blinds. Sunlight shot in through the corner of a southeastern window, reflected off the refrigerator, and illuminated the coffee maker in the corner.

It was like I was being led.

Flavor

He drank coffee from her cup. “Hmmm, coffee water,” he said.

“I tasted your coffee, yesterday,” she said. “It was so strong, I gagged. Who can drink such strong coffee?”

“A coffee lover,” he said.

Total Sense

After finishing one chapter, I bought a fresh cuppa coffee and began the next chapter. I’m excited. I know what to write, although, again, imagination and characters have taken me into unexpected directions.

Mixed in with my thoughts about writing this novel are a host of other matters to attend. I’ve been procrastinating about them, and worrying about them, even as I urge myself, “Just fucking do it.” And then, without warning, my dream about the cookies, and the job interview (to sell cookies) comes into focus. Understanding blooms. I know what it means, and it surprises me, but also makes me happy.

It’s just fascinating how our brains and minds work on so many levels. Been a great day of writing like crazy. Just a little more to do today, and then I’ll call it.

Bookends

I was stymied in my writing yesterday. I’d written a bunch (technical writing slang for “many words and a long time”) yesterday, and made great progress. But —

As great comedians have noted, there’s always a “but.”

My but came because I didn’t write the scene I’d intended. I wrote the setup for the scene, and then went blank. I knew what happened after that scene, so I wrote the other end of it. Now I had bookends, with blank space to fill in the middle. I knew the subsequent scene to those scenes, and began writing them in my head after I’d stopped physically writing. But that scene I’d set out to write? Still blank.

I sporadically considered the scene’s elements, setup and outcome through the evening as I walked, ate, read books, and fed the cats. Nothing firmed. It was like Jello that wouldn’t set.

Come this morning, though, as I rose, fed cats, checked on the solar panels invertor, and made coffee, the scene swam into view. Confrontations and dialogue developed. Unexpected actions by the characters joined. As the scene expanded and crystallized, changes required to the setup, outcome, and the subsequent story being written in my head emerged. By the time I’d finished showering and shaving, and was dressing, words rushed into my head. That’s exciting and fun.

Got my coffee. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

Breakfast

You ever eat a pastry, like a doughnut or a bear claw, in the morning as you’re drinking your coffee (or tea), and think, this is not healthy, but it really tastes good?

Yeah. Once in a while.

While

While I looked out the window.

And studied the rainbow.

And thought about rainbows and the myths and science about them.

And admired its beauty.

While sleep was still being chased away.

And thoughts frolicked with dream remnants.

And the day’s planned activities opened in my mind like a hand of cards.

And I thought about making the first cup of coffee.

While I thought about what I was going to do today.

And what I needed to do.

I turned to my computer, and opened my file.

The file of the section of the novel in progress I’m working on.

And I typed.

A hundred words.

Five hundred.

One thousand.

Twelve hundred.

Fifteen hundred.

Then the scene was done.

And I reviewed what I’d written.

And closed the file.

And while I thought about what I’d just written.

And what was to be written.

And what it meant for what was already written.

I went to make my morning coffee.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑