Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
The muses were busy. A blizzard of epiphanies stormed him. Insights about scenes, connections, story, character development, plot. Now the challenge was to hang onto them, find where they go in the book, and get them written down.
That’s always his fiction writing’s challenge. Discovering what’s to be told and telling it. Many writers agree with him: that’s the challenge. Well, if it was easy, everyone would be doing it, wouldn’t they?
You were warned. It’s December 1, 2022. The year’s final month. The countdown has begun to the year’s end. It’s the final countdown, other than the various countdowns that will used in conjunction with the month’s holidays and sales. Oh, and don’t overlook the final final countdown at the common year’s end, when we countdown to midnight to start the new year. Once the new year begins, we’ll begin a new countdown of 2023. In the U.S., they’ll probably begin a countdown to the 2024 elections. Let’s hear it for countdowns!
Today is Thursday. The heater is running to ward off cold air. 33 F is the outdoor temperature. Snow tops the mountains and their firs and pines, a lovely black and white contrast to blue sky, smoky clouds, and the autumn golden, brown, and green remnants streaking the valley. Our high is 39 F and it’ll drop to 22 tonight. Prepare thyself, the advisories tell us. Sunrise was a bright 7:20 AM affair. Sunset ends December’s first day at 4:40 this evening. There’s another countdown I’m following: the days until solstice and the day when the days start gaining more daylight.
I love pies. I’m not fond of the national pie day, nor an international pie day. What is the point of those things? Same with the ones for pancakes, beer, coffee, cakes, cookies, doughnuts, etc. All good stuff but are they worthy of their own day of recognition and celebration? Being a minor cynic, I say no. That’s just me, innit.
But today is National Rosa Parks Day in the U.S. That is a holiday I can support. It reminds us of the division that once enthralled the nation, where your skin color dictated what water fountain you used, where you sat on a bus and other vehicles, what doors you used, and what services, rights, and stores were available to you. Land of the free and home of the brave, we were, so long as you were the right color at the right time. Change was needed and Rosa Parks helped deliver change. More changes are needed, not just based on skin color. We’re working on it. It’s a long frigging arc to full and true equality for everyone.
Today’s theme music is owed to my wife. She had some confusion about days and dates. When I clarified it for her, she gave me big eyes and exclaimed, “Oh my God, we’ve been through a time warp!” The Neurons immediately began playing “Time Warp ” from The Rocky Horror Picture Show outta 1975. It’s the song where the chorus sings, “Let’s do the time warp again.” Let it be my gift to you as December 1st’s theme music.
I already have coffee — was a chilly morning and I craved a warm bevvie. Hot coffee does it for me in the AM stirrings. Stay positive, test negative, and so on. Here’s the music. It’s a little rock and rolly so feel free to sing and dance along. Cheers
Got a cup of joe. Let’s start the day up.
First, the setting. Tepid sunshine behind a peeling gray sky. Autumn colors are flattered by the gray sky but some trees have gone bare, as though they’ve lost the plot. Tree branch tips and bushes feebly wave good morning to me. Dark spots tell on the remaining dampness and that sky isn’t one that invites me into a warm embrace.
I think, it’s Saturday. Or is that, I think it’s Saturday? The Thanksgiving milestone has passed. It’s November 26, right? 2022. December is coming, along with 2023.
It’s 44 F now, chilly not cold, with a high of 55 probable. Sunrise licked us with light at 7:14 this morning. Daylight’s tail end will flick by at 4:42 PM.
My morning mental music stream is enlivened by The Cars with “Moving in Stereo” from 1978. Came upon me during the clothes wearing operation, the part when I thought about what to wear and made choices and decided, that works, except not those shoes. With little pause for contemplation, The Neurons had me humming, “Life’s the same, I’m moving in stereo. Life’s the same except for my shoes.” Then the whole song rolled in. Not a bad way to roll.
Yeah, coffee is almost half gone. Not real happy with the clothes choices because Thanksgiving. Oof. Stay positive, test negative, and enjoy your November Saturday. Here’s the music. Later, Vader.
Cheers
His fingers dance and skate across the keyboard. He talks with the characters, stares at far scenes until focus is found, laughs at a surprising turn. He turns his head, listening for what’s being said, rolling with the tension. Quarreling with the muses, he devotes fierce time trying to tie the story’s ends together and grasp what’s to happen next, hunting for the button that will make it all make sense.
The he stops, stretching his arms, deeply inhaling, blinking his eyes, working out back kinks, shifting so blood can find a way through his ass, and gawks at the coffee shop around him. He swears it was full before.
Now he writes alone.
The writing day drains me again. I feel physically like I’ve run a half marathon — and I’ve done that and remember how I felt afterward. I also feel like I finished an important project at work, one that consumed my time and thinking. I feel, too, like I’ve been at a funeral, by a grave in the rain, and now I’m back home, changing clothes, reflecting on life and death, change and emotions, and I feel like I’ve been waiting for someone who never showed.
A good writing day, I judge it, even though so much remains to be written.
Got up early, fed the cats. Went back to bed because, at 7:15 AM, the light cast a feel that it was closer to five AM. Rising an hour later on this Saturday morning, I found the light much improved. Mixed with clouds, sunshine, rains, and mist, the light seemed pretty much perfect.
It couldn’t last. Clouds swarmed the local atmosphere. Rain shadowed in. But I still thought, it might be nice outside, because it was warm and cozy within, right? Papi, my ginger-furred wonder, told me otherwise. He was beating on the front door. I rushed over and opened it. Yelling, “Meow,” as he dashed in, he let me know how incensed he was. It was cold and wet outside and now he was cold and wet, which is not a preferred state. “A little fresh kibble might ameliorate my mood.” I did as I was told. Always do.
It’s 50 degrees F, November 5, 2022, and raining. We turn back the digits and clock hand tonight, if you do that sort of thing. Well, tomorrow morning, actually. as the deed is done in that nether region that’s both late night and early morning, depending on where you stand on the spectrum about when night and morning literally begin. Today’s high will be 51 F. See, that’s the day’s nature, a balance by degrees here.
“Rock Me Baby” is in my morning mental music stream. This song has been around my entire life. B.B. King’s cover was a hit in 1964 and became his signature song. A blues standard, many artists have covered and recorded it. B.B.’ version was inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame. His arrangement is what’s in my head today, but the cover is by Etta James and Stephen Stills, with the Roots. I’m a fan of all three of those entities, so when I found a recording from 1983 of them doing this song, I sat and listened. The Neurons have nothing to do with my theme music choice for a change.
Well, hope you enjoy it. Give everyone my regards. Stay positive and test negative. The coffee man (that’s me) has delivered. Time to imbibe. Cheers
He wondered which of them had fallen out of love first. He believed that he did. He felt like she was always verbally abusing him and emotionally bullying him. He had a list of trespasses against her. She probably had one for him. The best thing to do is not keep a list, but there it was. They were so much alike, and they both always made lists.
Two writing moments which he really enjoyed happened today. One was a stimulating story idea. It landed without any warning in his head, blowing his mind in multiple ways. Excited, he wrote it up. Something to do later. Ideas for novels and stories were always landing but this one felt really special. He didn’t want to forget it.
The second moment came as he wrote in the novel in progress. His character’s situation and the character’s thinking resulted in a sentence which made him laugh out loud at the coffee shop table.
Yes, it was a fun writing day. Cold and wet, with rain turning to snow and back again, but terrific fun. Coffee done, it was time to shut down the writing like crazy for the day.
He was at a coffee shop yesterday. Three women came in and rearranged a section of furniture. They didn’t put it back when they left. He wondered, though, is it their job to put it back?
Of course not. But it seemed like it’d be courteous to the staff and other patrons. It’s what he would do. But is there a ‘right and wrong’ in this?
Not really. It’s furniture in a coffee shop. It’s there for people’s use and comfort, right? Sure. It just annoys him when people don’t put things back, whether it’s shopping carts or tables and chairs in a coffee shop.
It’s just one of his foibles.
A bear was spotted crossing Siskiyou Boulevard at 12:45 PM. He then went up Park Street. Naturally, everyone wondered, why did the bear cross the road? Yes, sure, it was to get to the other side, but why?
Michael Seidel, writer 