One Fine Morning
It’s my survival philosophy to avoid other people, wild animals, fires, and other natural disasters. But I’m a fucking voyeur. I heard sounds, looked for them, and started watching.
I was on top of a mall. The malls have been pillaged, and more than a few were kissed with fire and destruction, a natural target representing the corporations and greed that people blamed for the collapse. The malls that survived are often like little town-forts. This one was a little bit of collapsed ruin and town-fort. Bowie and I went to the roof for a few days of rest and recon before resuming our road trip.
It was on our third and final day when we heard the noises. The noises were coming from the mall’s eastern parking lot. Most of the noise came from a female source and could best be described as screams and pleas. That’s probably what prompted Bowie and I to take a look.
Bowie said, “Woof.” I said, “Yeah, I know.” Bowie believes in protecting others. He’s a big, gracious beast, with a lot more manners and empathy than me.
“Woof,” Bowie said with a firmer, sharper intonation.
“I hear you,” I said, “but you know our policy.”
Bowie growled.
Employing my binoculars, I watched the scene and listened to the noise. Clearly, these four men had grabbed this female, who looked like a sixteen-year-old, and planned to rape her. She was fighting back. From their laughing and gestures, they seemed to think her cries and fighting were comical.
“Woof,” Bowie said again. He looked at me.
“All right, all right. I know I’m going to regret this.”
Unslinging my Waxman, I brought up the scanner. The five bodies below were found. I targeted all of them and then deselected the girl. Two seconds of debate were embraced as my mind hovered over kill or sedate? Being a compassionate idiot, I chose the latter, pushed the button, and released the fledges. They went with a sporting hiss and struck within a few seconds.
Down went the four. Hooray for my side. Relieved from being hit and raped, the girl scrambled to get the hell out of there.
“Our work here is done, Bowie,” I said. The tranqs would keep those four down for about twenty to thirty minutes, depending on a lot of factors. I figured the clock was running. “Time for us to exit Dodge.”
“Woof,” Bowie said.
Hearing a shout from another part of the parking lot, I whirled. Someone had seen me. Hello, shit. The Waxman was employed again. But then, there were others out there looking up and pointing. Some pointed with hands and fingers. Others used weapons. Arrows flew toward me. The pop-pop of automatic weapons followed.
None reached me but now the roof was a dangerous fucking island. “Let’s go, Bowie,” I said. “Let’s make like a bandit, and git.” Bowie, being smarter than me, was already on the move for the path we’d used to come up.
We had to move fucking fast. Folks might be stupid in this raw, new world, but someone would say, “How’d he get up there?” Someone else would know that we used the pile of junk stacked against the mall’s entrance by Bed, Bath and Beyond.
Leaving precious stuff behind, Bowie and I ran hard. I was ruing my intervention because of the stuff I was leaving behind, but, come on, civilization had already collapsed too much. I wasn’t going to countenance more collapse by sitting idly by while men raped a girl. If death was what I had to pay for my noble stupidity, c’est la vie.
Bowie and I made it down the rickety pile of wreckage but shooting arrived as we reached the bottom. Grabbing Bowie, I hauled myself back behind a line of scorched, toppled refrigerators as rounds made discordant sounds on the junk. Looking through a gap between the fridges, I saw a charging mob. I fired the Waxman and realized it remained on sedative. That was about all the time I had because noises behind me revealed that I’d been outflanked. Another mob was charging my position from the rear.
“Take them alive,” an ugly blond woman shouted.
Should have killed them all, I thought as Bowie launched himself, and then a shit-storm hit, and it all went black.
I apparently lived. I awoke in a silent pool of sunshine. But, as a corollary piece of the environment, I was on a bed and the sunshine was streaming in through a window. The window was above a petite tan sofa. Looked like leather. Sitting up to color in more, I found Bowie beside me on the bed. Good, I thought, but then had to deal with a headache that attacked when I sat up. Sitting up had not been a good idea.
Alas, I’m a stubborn shit (my mother was a stubborn shit, and my father was a stubborn shit, to paraphrase some Richard Pryor lines in Stir Crazy), so I didn’t lay down or do anything to appease my pain. Bowie was bandaged in several places but awoke at my touch, releasing me from a dread that he was dead.
I – we – was – were – on some elevated bed in a small room. The sunshine came through a window to my left. All I saw were sun and clouds. I jumped down off the bed, a movement that required me to pay a toll of dizziness. Bowie was up and wanted down, so, teeth grit, I helped him to the floor. He immediately sank down to rest on the blue carpet.
That’s what I should have done, but that window attracted me. I crossed to it and looked out, confirming, yep, I was in something that was airborne. It was pretty impressive. I’d flown back in the days when we’d had the means. I’d never been on any aircraft that was this smooth and quiet. I’d never been on anything, including car, train, and boat, so smooth and quiet.
I stared out the window for several more minutes, mostly because it let me minimize my movement, which assuaged my headache, but also because I was curious about our airborne location. I could see a shore and water, and buildings in various states. I’m not an expert but I don’t think we were higher than a few thousand feet. We weren’t moving fast, not even as fast as a jet on final. After satisfying my headache, I checked on Bowie, confirming he still lived, and looked around more.
There was a television, Keurig, and small refrigerator and microwave. I also found a pocket door. Behind it was a shitter, sink, and mirror. The mirror showed my familiar, weathered mug, matted hair, and thick beard. It also showed some cuts and scabs. Feeling my head as I checked my reflection, I found a knot behind my right ear. It was tender and wet, so I kept touching it and wincing from pain, because I’m stupid like that.
Satisfied that I’d been hurt, I resumed my room inspection and saw a second pocket door. I tugged on it. It remained closed.
“Well, this turned out to be a fine morning,” I said. I knocked on the locked door. “Hello. Anybody out there? Nod if you can hear me.”
I didn’t expect anything to happen. It didn’t. You’d think I’d be happy because I was right, but I wasn’t.
Nothing to do but chill and wait. My patience and willingness to accept whatever happened is probably what’s kept me alive. The frig had Jarlsberg cheese and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. I opened a bottle of the second and took the package of the first with me to the sofa.
There was no use in starving and staying sober while I waited. Not if I could help it.
Tweaking My Amygdala
After reading about how doing exercises in imagining positive outcomes can affect the influence of right amygdala and reduce your fear, anxiety, and worry, I decided to do such an exercise while walking today in preparation for my writing session.
In the exercise that I read and remember most sharply, people were asked to imagine that they were Superman. Bullets bounced off them. They could fall off cliffs and not be harmed, which made sense, as they could also fly.
So often, it’s my own doubt and lack of confidence that undermines me and my writing efforts. Like many folks, the impostor syndrome shadows my life, with the attendant fears that I have no talent, intelligence, or ability (sound familiar, writers?), and that exposure as a fraud is imminent. I wanted to counter those effects with positive visualization. Of course, I don’t know how I’ll measure the impact of what I did. I awoke feeling pretty damn confident, optimistic, and hopeful (I know – I exist with a complex dichotomy of feelings and thoughts), and I write almost every day, regardless of my mood. What I really need is a team to test me, check on my amygdala, and give me updates. Barring that happening, I’ll assume it’s working and drink my coffee.
Coffee always helps.
Almost always.
Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
The Australian Dream
It was another wild night of dreams, with this one making a deeper and more lasting impression.
I found myself in another land. After meeting a man and speaking with him, I realized I was in Australia. My wife was also present. No reason for being in Australia was given, but I was pleased. I’ve always wanted to go to Australia, and have just missed several times. I still plan to go.
Anyway, in the dream, I was given some papers that turned out to actually be a little book. I didn’t know what to do with it or why I had it. Reading it didn’t help because it seemed incomplete, and my wife couldn’t figure it out, either. Finding another fellow, I asked him about it, and he showed me how it was a continuation of other documents. He said they were living documents, and took me to a huge wall of like documents. After he explained it, I was excited and explained it to my wife. She wasn’t interested.
I was then informed I had to get to another part of Australia. I hopped into a car and began driving, trying to figure out where I was going as I went. The roads were holed and shoddy. Most of them were like slick mud. As I complained about them to myself and merged onto a highway that was also like slick mud, I was overtaken by cars. They passed at shockingly high speeds. “I forgot they don’t have speed limits here,” I said to myself in the dream car, accelerating to match the pace while I looked for signs and directions.
I found myself out of the car and running. Everyone was running. Instead of driving, we were running everywhere. I was still on the highway and looking for where I was going. Somehow, running, I found it and arrived.
People were there, but it was no one that I recognized. They gave me more books. Where all the other books were white, these books were red. I immediately understood that these were new books, and that I had to take them back to the other location, which I did right away. That pleased the people on the other end. Understanding the books and system at a fast rate, I took on the role of explaining to others how these books continued the stories.
Everyone was told to line up to go somewhere else, part of some planned activities. I got in line and found that I was at the line’s beginning, with my wife beside me. As I started to go, I encountered the first man that had given me the books in the beginning. He and I exchanged some comments, and I told him that I knew how the books worked. That made him happy, and he let me go. As I walked through the gate with my wife into a green field bordered by a white picket fence, I realized that he’d been my teacher.
Icebergs
I was dealing with an iceberg yesterday. The iceberg in this instance was a story twist; I could see the tip but not the vast majority of it.
That’s what causes writing to be fun and challenging for me. I like seeing the tip of teh story and the concept and then imagining and writing to find the hidden depths.
people and then imagining what’s unseen underneath, discovering bravery and cowardice, honesty and betrayal under that tip.
The same is true with those characters. I often see and begin with the tip. Writing the story reveals the rest of the character’s iceberg. While I begin with a general idea of the character’s traits and their role, more becomes revealed as the story’s icebergs are explored.
Walking yesterday, and watching drivers making errors, I thought about how much we as people are ice bergs. I saw drivers making bone-headed errors in judgement. I had to remind myself that that was just the tip, and it wasn’t a matter of awareness, intelligence, or ignorance, that broad labels that I often misapply. I don’t know what mental, physical, and emotional issues are attacking them, what problems that they’re dealing with through meds, thought, or by fleeing. They might be driving, but we don’t know what’s happening in their brains and bodies.
Most of us are the same kind of icebergs on the outside, a typical bi-ped. Despite commonalities between us, like a body, two eyes and ears, and a head, things are different inside. Inside that head is a brain, and in that body are organs. Lots of chemicals are being produced and are being employed via neurons and neuro-transmitters and receivers.
It all doesn’t work the same, right? Have you seen any of the studies about the right amygdala and its size and activity in people who tend toward being conservative in their political views? Their right amygdala is larger and often more active. They tend to be more fearful, and tend to dislike change.
That doesn’t mean they’re cowards. Being fearful and being a coward aren’t the same.
The study also found that the amygdala’s activity could be shifted, and that shift affected people’s outlook. It all began with the observation that the United States became more politically conservative after the attacks of 9/11. A Business Insider article by Hilary Brueck best states it:
“The hypothesis social scientists developed about this effect is perhaps best summed up in a 2003 review of research on the subject: “People embrace political conservatism (at least in part) because it serves to reduce fear, anxiety, and uncertainty; to avoid change, disruption, and ambiguity; and to explain, order, and justify inequality among groups and individuals,” it said.”
A Yale psychologist, John Bargh, wrote about it in a new book, Before We Know It: The Unconscious Reasons We Do What We Do. Bargh explores how our brain’s responses affect our political views, and how that can be changed. For example, in one experiment, after a baseline about political views was established, an exercise was conducted. In the exercise, everyone was told to imagine they were like Superman. Bullets bounced off them. Fire couldn’t hurt them. They’d survive falls off a cliff without injury, and they could fly.
That exercise caused a dramatic change among conservatives and their responses, but no change among liberals. The exercise enabled conservatives to feel safer and less fearful, which triggered more compassionate and optimistic responses in their political views. They became more open to change, and more hopeful.
It’s something that we should keep in mind as we drive around and encounter one another. It’s not always about facts and logic, intelligence and awareness. We’re all icebergs, and what we see is only the tip.
It’s also something to keep in mind as we write about our characters and their motivations and actions.
Time to write like crazy and explore my icebergs, at least one more time.
Choice of Direction
As I take up the next chapter, I’m faced with sudden choices. I thought the path was clearly defined when the chapter was begun, yet, when I wrote it, it took unexpected twists and ended up somewhere else. Once there, I saw two new options — and then a third, and a fourth. That forces the writing phase that I call “sitting at a computer with a cup of coffee and staring out a window thinking.”
I know I won’t be able to decide in this session. In a way, it’s like a chess match, where multiple future moves are considered. No, I’ll probably finish the coffee and get up without writing another word, and then I’ll go walk for a while and continue to think. I probably won’t decide while I’m walking, either. I’ll continue to think about the options and moves until I return to write like crazy tomorrow. Then, without making a conscious choice, I’ll begin writing, and let it take me.
That’s the process: realize, and think, letting it brew and simmer, and then write by letting the words take me. When I’m in these moments, I’m reminded of the scenes in Stranger than Fiction when Emma Thompson, as the author, Karen Eiffel, smokes cigarettes and wanders around, considering ways to kill her main character.
I so enjoy those scenes.
The Winding Road
As the current sub-plot and story line of my work in progress winds along like a leisurely country drive, I curb impatience to be done. If I had to describe myself, impatient is a word I’d consistently employ. I’m continuously monitoring and struggling with my impatient urges to be done, to move on, to get there, to get finished, etc.
Today, motoring through the scenes I planned to write, I realized that I wasn’t as close to being finished with the work in progress that I’d hoped and believed. I’m enjoying writing it. It’s weird to say that it’s a leisurely write, because I write several thousand words a day (knock on wood – don’t want to scare off the muses), and edit it every day. Yes, I’m a writer that edits as I go, because my writing is an organic garden in progress, and requires constant attention. I usually edit the volume in progress (number four), but sometimes jump back and edit the others. They’re all beta, and will require more work when they’re done before they’re finished.
I want this series done so I can go on to other books that I’ve begun or planned. One is from a story idea a fan sent me. “What can you do with this concept?” she asked. Answering her, I ended up writing about forty pages. I stumbled across it last night, and enjoyed what I read, and remembered what else was planned, and I feel like I owe her to finish it.
The second project that I want to continue is the third novel in my Life Lessons mystery series. Readers of the first two books have asked several times, “When is the third one coming out?” Soon, I promise, as soon as I finish this work in progress. I’d written five chapters of it before getting distracted by the current concept, and read some of that last night, and remembered, “Oh, yes, there’s so much to write here.” I had several more sequels planned in the series and had a broad outline of that developed. And, as I write this fourth volume of the current WIP, a fifth volume keeps tugging on my sleeve.
Not enough time, you know? Those are just a few of the dozen items in the writing bucket. But, c’est le vie, this is the writing life.
Now time to write like crazy, at least one more time.