Erik Said
Wednesday’s Theme Music
Writing and the coronavirus mated, spurting today’s song into the stream.
I was writing about a queen. On break, I slipped into the backyard. Standing on the covered back patio, ginger cat wrapping around my calf like furry python, I listened to soft rain and admired pink and white blossoms on trees.
Lyrics arrive.
And I said mama, mama, mama, why am I so alone
I can’t go outside
I’m scared I might not make it home
I’m alive, I’m alive
But I’m sinking in
If there’s anyone at home at your place, darling
Why don’t you invite me in?
Don’t try to bleed me
I’ve been there before
And I deserve a little more
h/t to AZLyrics.com
The lyrics continued on autopilot while part of me sorted memory, coming up with Counting Crows, and then “Rain King” (1994).
Victory Is Coming
The birds were plentiful and noisy. Several noticed, “Hey, where are the humans?”
It seemed true, the birds agreed. They didn’t see as many humans as usual. Odd, up here in the northern latitudes, where winter was rolling over into spring. That’s when the humans usually became more active.
Word went from bird to bird, flock to flock, pecking for confirmation: were less humans out? Fewer cars, trucks, and motorcycles? Were all noticing this or was it a local anomaly?
“Yes.” Verification flew through the flocks. Except for a few pockets, less humans were present outdoors. The birds were winning the war.
Orders were issued. “Increase your efforts. Be vigilant. Keep shitting on them, shit on every human you see. Our strategy s working. Victory is coming.”
Thundering In
They thundered in on loud, glittering machines (Harley motorcyles), ostentatious in their efforts to be cool and tough, shattering me with their numbers and volume.
It was the muses, awakened, returned, and energetic.
Six thirty AM, I’d just finished reviewing my dreams and wasn’t ready to get out of bed. I’d stayed up late watching “Ozark” on Netflix. A cat (Tucker, black and white, long-furred) was nestled against me, warm and purring. Yeah, no need to get up.
I began going through my manuscript in my head. I’d finished reading it. It was okay. Satisfactory.
Yeah, satisfactory and okay weren’t what I was looking for, damn it.
So the muses began riding around, revving their engines and hurling ideas at me. Do this, write this, what about this?
No, that’d be a much different book and not the one that this book is. Ah, but what about doing this? Hmmm…that makes sense. It’s attractive. Appealing.
Time to write (well, edit) like crazy, one more time.
But first, I really need coffee.
Michael Seidel, writer 