Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
He spent three days working to put together a better flow. Just two inconsistencies were seen but they were big. He loved that story line and the associated chapters. On the third day’s night, after he stopped writing, after he ate dinner, as he exercised at home, he faced the conclusion that he wanted to avoid; he needed to remove those chapters and that storyline.
Yes, he had to kill his darlings.
My writing moment came yesterday afternoon. I awoke in a grumpy mood yesterday morning and was in full curmudgeon mode before my first cup of coffee.
Some of it could be put on my reaction to some of my wife’s comments. I was feeling sour about my novel in progress. First draft was finished and now I’m reconciliating, slicing, and dicing. It mostly went well, but sometimes a section was encountered that forced a gag reflex.
My SO was preparing for her book club meeting. She always takes that as seriously as doing a doctoral thesis or presenting a business plan, devoting time, thought and energy to the exclusion of many other things. Extra effort was going on this time because she was the moderator. She owned responsibility for driving the discussion.
The book was A Friend by Sigrid Nunez. Each month, one member selects a book for the others’ reading and discussion. My wife suggested this book to another book club member. She’d read reviews, and after reading it for book club (twice, because she was the moderator), she raved about the book, author, and the author’s glittering literary career. Nunez is serious about writing (yeah, like most writers are not, right?) and has an impressive career.
My wife raving about Nunez’s success settled poorly on my wounded writer psyche. I’m not usually like that. I generally am just as enthusiastic as her about these things, or even more bullish on writers and their works and rewards. But circumstances threw dark shade on my own writing efforts, and her comments dropped me into a place where there’s little light.
That happened in the morning. Vowing to myself to do better and get through this, I went off to the coffee shop to slog through writing requirements. I knew there was a problem with the section I was editing, but didn’t know what it was. Then, pop, pop, pop, three epiphanies about the what-and-why arrived. Those epiphanies energized my writing and pulled my spirit from the gutter and set it on top of the world.
I’ve through those moods and endured that kind of writing low before. Nothing new. Nor is it something that other writers haven’t experienced. Happy I’m out of it.
Time to write — and edit — a little bit more, at least one more time. Cheers
Time for electric Elevens. Yes, we’re on the 11th of Jan, 2023. Coming up on the month’s halfway point of the new year’s first month.
Little has changed for me and it feels depressing. I’m sipping coffee in hopes of elevating my mood. Don’t know why I’m down but I can speculate on reasons. Could be the fog, rain, and wind swirling around outside. Wind sounds like it’s planted someone right outside the window to make ghostly woooooo noises. Writing the first draft and working on it to improve the story could be depressing me because it feels like there’s so much more still to do. Maybe it’s just the news and its unchanging flavors of death and politics, and the ugly, jaundiced textures that infuse it. Or, it could be that I’m in a rut and it wearies me, looking up the rut’s same walls. Probably just my time of month, when hormonal changes bring out my dark side. I could also chalk up to SAD, one supposes. Reminder to self to not make any impulsively stupid decisions today, because this will pass, brother.
Wednesday has landed on us. The fog has moved back and up, so I can see more world. Chainsaws and chippers drone and sing, informing me of another tree’s demise. Outside, it’s 42 degrees F again though it feels like 33. Flat white clouds with a tincture of gray have overwhelmed the sun. Sunrise was same as yesterday, 7:39 AM, but sunset has inched a few minutes back and will now be at 5 PM sharp.
Two songs compete in the morning mental music scream stream. The Neurons have me hearing “Just My Style” by Gary Lewis & the Playboys from 1965. Okay. The other is “Self Esteem” by the Offspring from the middle of the 1990s. I can guess why The Neurons are doing this to me. The same lines keep repeating, from one and then the other. First we have the bass delivery, “Don’t you know that she’s,” followed by the rest of the band singing “Just my style,” from the first song. Then the Offspring sing, “The more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right? Yeah.” Both have been featured in this space before. I’ll flip a mental coin for which one is today’s theme music.
Time to drink up this coffee and pretend it’s a day. Stay positive! Test negative. Rise above yourself, I tell myself. I’ll suggest the same to you. Let me end this whiney scree. Hey, look sunshine! Too slow — it’s gone. Keep an eye out; it’ll be back.
Cheers
More high winds last night. Reports arrived that the 2023 barrage brought trees down a few days ago. Several pines and sycamore trees went down in Lithia Park. Over on Oak Street toward the town’s north side, a large tree landed on power lines, taking out people’s power. A few other trees caused more minor damages and inconveniences. In our neighborhood, I’ve only seen a neighbor lose two smaller fir trees.
No rain last night as the atmospheric river afflicting California leaned south. Beyond these salient pieces, we’ve reached another Tuesday, it’s 40 degrees F but 53 is the projected high, and scattered showers are expected. Yesterday afternoon was worthy of being outdoors, with a high of 56 F, no wind or rain, and plentiful sunshine. They keep that up, we’ll be spoiled.
For the record, this is January 10, 2023. The sun’s presence loomed over the southeastern rim of mountains at 7:39 this morning — same as yesterday — and the daylight portion of the show will begin ending at 4:57 PM. We had sunshine through the southern windows but that’s been doused by a band of clouds.
I felt like a change was needed and was talking to myself about a change of atmosphere. After all, it’s a new year, innit. Something’s gotta change. I was also reading others’ blogs about changes you can make to improve your writing. I’m all in on that. That personal and private conversation with self was overheard by some busybody Neurons who used that to inject the song “Rush” by Big Audio Dynamite II from 1991 into the morning mental music stream. Why that song? Because it has the lyrics, “Rush for a change of atmosphere” in it, I guess.
One of the things about BAD and BAD II was that Mick Jones of the Clash was band’s the driving force. So when I first heard “Rush”, I heard Jones’s vocals and concluded it’s the Clash. I’d not heard of Big Audio Dynamite before “Rush”. Don’t know why but I suspect that it was a combo of the times. I’d been serving in Germany until ’91 and was moving back to the U.S. The Desert Storm & Desert Shield buildup was going on, and we were dealing with the aftermath of the fall of the U.S.S.R., the toppling of the Berlin Wall, reunification of Germany, and the impending dismantling and deactivation of my unit. All that was absorbing a lot of my time and attention.
The other thing about this particular song is that they sample several other songs in it, which sometimes threw me off when I heard “Rush”. If you know it, you’ll see what I mean. Finally, my brain was a little confused about a song called “Rush” when a rock group called Rush existed. It taxed my processing skills, I tells ya. But “Rush” is this day’s theme music.
Coffee is being served. It’s self-serve, so I, you know… Stay positive and test negative. See you on the flip side. Here’s BAD II. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 