Category: Thinking, thinking

Black Friday

You’re not going to believe it, Michael, she said. I went shopping on Black Friday, last night. I never go shopping on Black Friday. I did this year.

I just wanted a “Wonder Woman” DVD. I love “Wonder Woman.” I’ve seen it twice. When I like a movie, though, I like watching the same ones over and over again. I don’t know why. I have this huge DVD collection. I wanted “Wonder Woman.” Walmart had it on sale for five dollars. Five dollars. My girlfriend was going to Walmart. I didn’t want to go. Just get me the “Wonder Woman” DVD, I said. No, she said. Come on, she said. Come with me. I finally gave in. Okay. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t need anything. But I went.

I got in the store, and I got my DVD. Five dollars. But, OMG, there were so many nice things there. I didn’t need anything, but I saw these things, and the prices were so good.

Still, I didn’t need them. I didn’t want them. But everyone was so nice. They were so sweet and polite. So I stayed, and walked around the store.

And then, I came face to face with my dream camera. Digital SLR. I’d been thinking about this camera for three years. Three years. But it’s five hundred dollars.

Well. The one on display had two extra lenses, and an extra card. Four hundred fifty dollars.

I didn’t want to buy it, but my girlfriend was like, you should totally buy it, you never buy yourself anything, you deserve it, you’ve been wanting it for three years.

So I picked it up and got in line. I thought, I can think it over while I’m in line, go over my budget, and think about it all, so it wasn’t an impulse.

Yes, I bought it. I spent a lot more than five dollars.

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And I’m Writing, And I’m Writing —

And I think of things that I’ve overlooked that need to be added, and events that would surprise the reader, and recognize that I want to add it to the story, but it doesn’t go in this book, but actually, OMG, the end of the second book, so it leads into the third book. I’m halfway – only halfway – through writing the first book. The second book is written but needs some wiring changes. The third book – I hadn’t thought about a third book before, but it started blooming like a volunteer posy. Am I supposed to uproot the thing?

No, because my writing excitement gets the better of me. But the series’ evolution forces more work upon me. The excitement becomes almost paralyzing, because I stop to let the evolution flow in. Sitting still in a sea of external noise and activity, I can look down the long tunnel through the rest of the first book, past the second book, and into the third book.

Now, here’s the tricky part. I can see and hear these events. They must be captured in words. More than that, I need to navigate unseen scenes that bridge now and then, and find the words, pacing, nuances, etc., to bring it all home. I love this part of thinking and writing. I feel all those wires connecting and gears turning. Illumination falls on new aspects and spreads. This is the essence of art, writing, music, and physics, for me, to think, to see, to think more to understand, and see more. It’s an unwinding coil without beginning or end, a Möbius strip of existence.

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

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Assumptions

The other day, I wrote a short post, “End Game.” I’ve been amused by the position that people won’t accept other genders because, God, and the Bible, or some other deity and religious document. I assumed that were it true that a deity created the original one or two sexes, they may now have decided to add more sexes. I assumed they could agree with that.

That might be a wrong assumption.

After posting that, I read an article about conservative American thinking in Salon. I infer from the article that Conservatives have a difficult time accepting change. So if God created two sexes and stopped, that’s it; the end. That chokes the life out of my position. They were taught one thing, so they believe one thing, and they can’t change their thinking to believe anything else. It’s a fascinating conclusion, because it’s not about politics or religious beliefs, but about brain structure and how our brains develop and work.

That leads to another assumption, embraced by so many, that we are all the same. An intriguing dichotomy arises: if you have a hard-wired conservative brain and were taught that everyone is the same, then you can’t change your mind, and yet you’re the very evidence that we’re not all the same. That explains why so many conservatives will drop back and point to differences in gender and sexual orientation as either choices or sicknesses. They can’t conceive of the third choice, that either their God has more in mind for the sexes and variations for humans, or that humans continue to develop and evolve. Like generals fighting the last war, their thinking is predicated on the past situation. To think that gender changes might be required for humanity’s survival is unthinkable, and unimaginable.

Now we’re entering X-Men territory. Yet, medical science can point to evolutionary changes and mutations beyond genders and sexual orientations that indicate, yes, human beings are dynamic and evolving. Changes have emerged, and will continue to emerge. Unfortunately, my recent reading about conservative thinking is that they have a hard time with science, too.

The way we learn has an impact, as well. We’ve learned that what we first learn often stays with us; it’s difficult to overcome what we initially learn, even when new information is later added that shows that we initially learned was wrong. Part of this also has to do with with our brains, memory, and wiring.

I wish I was more intelligent and better educated so I could understand and explain it all with more clarity and nuance. Sadly, I ponder if humans might end up destroying humanity trying to stay the same as were were when they believe they were created.

I hope that I’m just assuming the worst.

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Work-around

So many times, people, companies, and nations develop a work-around, and then accept it as a final solution. Perhaps you know of people who took a temporary position and was still in that position twenty years later. That’s often the classic.

I’m thinking about it today because many work-arounds we’ve developed have been accepted as permanent solutions, but now the problems are being revealed. Fossil fuel is one, water use is a second, and recycling is another. In our town, we’ll start paying more money per month for our recycling. They’re calling the two to three dollars a month extra a surcharge. I rarely notice surcharges going away, myself, but maybe I’m myopic or cynical about it. Whenever I think of surcharges, I think of the airline fuels surcharge.

We’re paying more for recycling here because the Chinese are rejecting our output. It’s too dirty for our standards. Recycling companies are claiming they’re already losing money because supply and demand, and the cost of cleaning the recycling – which uses water.

No, I don’t have the answers. Each individual product and service needs to be addressed. Some are gaining the focus that they need, but, hey, time and money, right?

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End Game

Lot of people are upset out there. They’re upset about this whole gay, lesbian, bi-, trans-, binary gender neutral thinking. They expostulate that it’s this simple: if you’re human, you’re either a man or a woman. If you’re a man, you have sex with a woman. If you’re a woman, you have sex with a man. Everything else is wrong; everything else is an abomination.

I laugh at that. They’re so absolute in their knowledge and beliefs. Many fall back to the idea that God (or Allah, or someone) created the two sexes, and it was written in the Bible or some other religious tome, or inscribed in rocks, or were whispered into ears, so, The End. There’s nothing to discuss. Two sexes make sense, because it’s all about procreation. Go forth and multiple.

Which is, you know, amusing. Did God finish, and say, “Okay, that’s that. What else can I do? I’ve got a lot of time on my hands. Where’d I put my list?”

You figure, if God, or some force behind creative intelligence, is out there, they’re probably trying new ideas. Maybe they have the big picture, and said, “Okay, I got to plan this carefully. Start with baby steps. Start small. First the foundation, universe, planet, and so on. You know, the heavens and Earth. Right. Now add people and animals. Start with two sexes, just to keep it simple. Then go from there, once there’s enough people. It’ll take a while, if I’m going to create one or two, and then have them multiply a couple at a time. I don’t know why I just don’t create the numbers needed now and be done with it – I am the creator, you know – but, whatever, I got the time. No hurry. We’ll have them procreate for thousands of years, get the numbers up, spread out across the planet, and then I’ll add more sexes later, along with new skin colors, like blue, and purple. That’ll be cool. Those other sexes and skin colors will be needed to finish the big picture. Okay, Miller time.”

I don’t know the big picture. I’m not God, or a God, or a prophet. I’m agnostic about having deities out there putting everything in place, pulling strings, and giving mysterious directions. I don’t know, though. You’d think that if you believed there’s some all-powerful being out there behind our existence, you’d trust them enough to believe that they’ll keep on creating, and that they have an end game in mind. You think you’d keep an open mind about it, because, you know, if you pass on, and come face to face with God, he – or she – might ask you, “Why didn’t you accept the other sexual orientations? Who do you think you are? Don’t you know how you messed up the big picture? You guys messed it up so badly, rejecting the others, that I might have to scrub it all, and start over.”

If whatever God is out there and does scrub it all and starts over, I hope he or she re-thinks those whole war, violence, and abuse angles. Other sexual orientations and identification doesn’t bother me nearly as much as all that pain and killing. That seems pretty senseless.

But then, I don’t know the end game.

5

My Smart Frig

I was thinking about a smart refrigerator as I walked today, and what my smart refrigerator would do for me. To begin, my smart refrigerator would scan everything in it. It would know what’s in my frig, and its condition. It’d be able to send me a message about the condition and quantity of the romaine lettuce.

It would also get rid of the romaine once it trespassed beyond being usable. The smart refrigerator’s message to me would be, “The romaine lettuce hearts have gone bad. I’m pitching them at midnight, unless I hear from you otherwise.”

Yes, it would give me ultimatums. It would also then pitch the food that’s gone bad, relieving me of the burden.

My smart frig would also suggest dinner options. Its umbrella of operations includes the refrigerator, freezers, and pantry. It’s like the kingdom of food. My smart frig would say, “You have some chicken breasts in the freezer. Shall I take them out and defrost them. There’s some Penna pasta, so I can make you some chicken Penna pasta.”

I wouldn’t even need to ask, “Do I have everything I need?”, because my smart frig would have compared the recipe with what I have on hand, and would have ordered whatever was needed.

Yes, my smart frig has the ability to move food out of its confines to the trash, or take it out, defrost and cook it for me. The smart oven, range, and microwave would work with the smart frig to make it happen.

As I think about it, I’m probably imagining a smart kitchen. Besides the smart frig inventorying my food stuffs and their condition, the kitchen is working with the sink and dishwasher to load dirty dishes, run, and put them away. Over at the smart wine console, another bottle of my favorite red as been ordered, as the bottle I opened last night is half-empty. *ahem*

Meanwhile, over in the smart bathroom, there’s tidying going on. Toilet bowls, sinks, tubs, showers and floors are being cleaned. Dusting and vacuuming is proceeding in the smart bedrooms, closets, and living room. The smart beds made themselves. Out in the smart garage, the smart car has cleaned itself inside and out, including the windows and wheels (because I notice many people don’t seem to clean their wheels). The laundry has been sorted by the smart washer, and the smart dryer is folding clothes and putting them away. The smart kitty litter box has cleaned itself, too.

I guess, what I’m really trying to say in this post, is that I want to live like George Jetson.

Without the traffic, of course. You’d think they would have been smarter about that by then.

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Chapter Length

Serendipity is useful. I’d just been pondering a chapter’s length yesterday. At thirty-six hundred words, I felt it lengthy. No, the reader within thought it lengthy, and was suggesting breaking it up into three chapters.

“Why three?” I asked the reader.

“That chapter has a lot going on in it. Breaking it up let your readers breath.”

“But three?”

“The way I see it, you have three natural breaks in the action.”

The reader, having read a lot, typically offers some good insights, so I considered what he said. As I did, a Reedsy article about chapter length was discovered in my inbox.

The article, “Chapter Length Matters. Here’s Why,” and its comments, gave me more substance for my thinking, so I thought I’d pass it on to other writers.

What of you, writers? Is there an ideal chapter length, or do you have specific guidelines, rules, or suggestions to share?

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A Pivotal Moment

Chapters finished, scenes drained out of me, I come to the next piece, the what happens next part of our show. This, for me, involves sipping coffee, reviewing notes, and staring fixedly at inanimate objects as I draw down the world, shut it out, and tune myself to the writers inside, waiting for one of them to clear their throat and begin telling me what happens next.

After review, I know where I stand, and where the novel stands, and where I’m next heading. I’m now pivoting to essentially part two of this section. This section begins with the genesis of this entire aspect of this volume. I’d created it August 4. I’d last modified it on August 8. It was a piece that came out of the darkness and rolled over me. As these things do, the piece created multiple questions about the setting, characters, plot, and situation.

To answer those questions, I began writing, and finished writing twenty-four chapters, one hundred eighty pages. Now, a little over two months later, I’m ready to pivot back to that first scene, and continue writing the story.

Of interest probably only to me, that first scene that I wrote has been deleted. It’s saved in another document. It was deleted because, within four days, I realized I was writing from the wrong character’s point of view. Another character had been created after that one, and they took over, demoting the original character to a minor role in the background. The original character didn’t put up a fight, but accepted the reduced role without a problem.

This is how I often work, not just in writing, but in almost every activity. My organization is strangely chaotic. Solutions and ideas leap at me, and I embrace them. But they usually reflect the end result desired, or some epiphany about what needs to happen within the project to enable the rest. Fortunately, generally, my mind works amazingly fast, especially when dealing with abstract matters. Yes, I’m being immodest, but it’s one of my favorite, and most dependable, traits. On the other end, it’s not unusual for people to write me off as a little crazy. I accept that, because I work with what I have, and what’s proven successful for me.

This is a pivotal moment. Action is moving the ship, the Epitome, and everything set up, down to the planet, Kyrios. The Kyrios action is grittier and darker. It’s complex. I’m intimidated with what’s planned for this section. As far as I know, it’s the second third of this volume. Parts of the end have already been written, serving as a light at the tunnel’s end.

Deep breath, and another gulp of coffee, and it’s time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

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Slow Progress

I’m having fun with this novel. It’s grown into an epic. I’m trying to divide it into tasty volumes.

“Incomplete States” is science fiction. It features time travel, galactic alliances, others sentient life forms, and advanced Human cultures and technology. There’s lots of space travel on ships that sometimes carry several million people. New planets have been terra-formed. (It’s terraformed in the future; they’ve dropped the hyphen.)

Many diseases have been mastered. They’re not a threat. Aging isn’t a threat. Choose your age. Keep it as long as desired. Change it when you desire.

Death is not much of a threat. Resuscitation, regeneration, and resurrection (depending on the marketing and technology involved) have made it a side topic. One side-effect is that Humanity is dropping toward zero population growth. Children who are born are often incubated in artificial wombs. Nanosystems help the mother and child stay connected and develop that special bond.

Communication nets are introduced into their bodies at young ages. Phones are internal bio-devices; they’re constantly in touch with others, listening, filtering information, and contributing.

As noted, I have fun writing this, but I’m easily side-tracked, and my progress is slow. I barely write one thousand words a day. Editing and reviews for accuracy are extensive — and intensive. A large quantity of moving parts must be synchronized. For example, against this showcase of technology, Humans are faced with going to a planet where their technology not only fails, but is actively attacked. They don’t know why, but are going to live there without technology. Their mission is to track down four people who are believed to be on this planet.

That’s required a lot of brainstorming. What do you do, and how do you live, without technology, when technology is deeply embedded in all aspects of society? Aside from a few small fundamentalist sects, nobody knows what they’re doing or how to do it. They’re researching how to cook on stoves, burn wood, grow food, and process it. Their energy weapons won’t work; what about gunpowder? They’re learning to ride horses, exist without their augmented memories, and fight with swords, bows and arrows, and other more primitive weapons and methods.

This is where I become side-tracked: I research and write about much of their process of coping with these changes and their new needs. I put it all in the novel. I enjoy writing and reading about these things, but I suspect I’ll lose a lot of readers who don’t enjoy these sort of details. I’ve been thinking about it, though, debating whether it’s too much in that vein before concluding, screw those readers. I rationalize the easy way out: I’m writing for me, and for those who enjoy books like these.

Had to write this out, to think it out. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

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