Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Revising again, and it’s a good damn thing. I’d modified a story line. This resulted in two new chapters during the last go-around. OMG, they need work. Stiff and ugly, I need to spend time and thought with them before moving on. Bad enough that when I read partway through one yesterday, I shut down to regroup. LOL.
Well, it happens. They were written in a rush and worked for the moment as part of a draft, but they’re subpar for a finished manuscript.
When the Humans had finally done so much to anger the rest of the Universe’s civilizations, they were relocated. The small solar system which was now home to Humans had few planets and was part of a Forbidden Realm. Magic was cast over it to keep the Humans from leaving the solar system. Magic also kept them from communicating with others.
But worse things were done to Humanity. They were stripped of learning about their heritage. As far as they knew, they’d always existed on the third rock from the sun. Perhaps, though, the most malignant curses put on Humanity gave them a short life span and aged them quickly. Then, finally, they were kept from knowing the truth about death.
So it would be until the Forbidden Realm was breached and another race came to Earth. Unless Why could stop them.
A short dream recap.
I was in a room, high walls painted sky blue, tall windows which looked out over a hill which lead to a beach and see, white ceiling. ‘My book’ as I referenced it was on an old but polished dark brown table that I’d been using to write. My book was finished and had a cover which I partially saw: sky blue, yellow, with a red frame around some scene and the title in red.
I left the room and returned, finding the table gone, along with my book. I hurried back into the other room and asked what someone to tell me what had happened. I’d been half expecting the table to be taken away but having my book removed upset me. A tall, angular woman with short brown hair told me that the mover had taken the table and inadvertently took my book with it. They’re realized their error and were bringing the book back. I was looking out the window while she spoke. “There they are now,” she said, pointing out.
A helicopter was high in the sky coming toward us. This was one of those heavy lift Chinooks with two rotors. A large white lighthouse with a red tile roof dangled on a hook and cable. “Yes, I see it,” I answered and settled down to patiently arrive, and begin hearing its distinctive helicopter sound getting louder.
The helicopter arrived and lowered the lighthouse. When they finished, I went into the original room and found my book. Unfortunately, it was high on the wall and out of my reach. I searched for a ladder. None was available, so I returned to the other room and complained to the angular woman. She said, “I’ll get it moved so you can reach it.”
I went back into the other room. The book had been lowered. Standing on my toe tips and stretching fully out, I was just able to reach it. With it finally in hand, I opened the tome and began reading.
Dream end.
After I awoke and thought about the dream, I realized that my dream self had equated the book as the lighthouse, and meditated a while about what that meant.
Michael Seidel, writer 