The Writing Moment

I’m still working on a novel. Finished one earlier this year and edit and revise it when free time gestures, do it. Meanwhile, I’m writing another. Thought I’d have it finished by September’s middle. Did. Not. Happen. I wrote an ending but it didn’t work. Yet it did work.

Why it didn’t work… Well, it wasn’t satisfying. None of the characters liked it. Especially the protagonist. You wouldn’t believe her reaction. The Writing Neurons were also pissed by the ending, and also let me know.

Hush, hush, I told them all. That was just the climax. Now I’ll write a denouement and all will be well. You’ll see.

Snorting, the Writing Neurons muttered, “Bullshit.” The Muses were more restrained, expressing their WTF doubts with a smirk.

Ignoring them, I pressed on. That’s when I realized why the ending did work. It did work because I had to get it out of me. It also worked because I saw that I was aiming toward the end of one story line, involving the main person, but there was a larger story line that needed an ending. I’d become so focused on my main person, I overlooked that other story line.

When I wrote that ending for the story, I killed one trending direction. Doing so freed the character to take over. Completely unaware of where I was going, like trying to find the bathroom in an unfamiliar, pitch-black house, every new paragraph was a challenge. I often rewrote paragraphs several times, trying to figure out what they meant. Is that how novel writing is supposed to go? I actually think so.

Now, I think I see the real ending. I don’t say that too loudly. Don’t want to piss off the protagonist, Muses, and Writing Neurons. It’s hard enough keeping them all in line and moving in the same direction. Like herding angry feral cats.

Got my coffee and a table. Got my ‘puter. Time to continue writing like crazy, at least one more time.

1982

Daily writing prompt
Your life without a computer: what does it look like?

I’ve lived without a computer before. It actually wasn’t terrible. Yes, I’m now spoiled. Personal computers have been life changing.

But jump back to 1982. I was in the U.S. Air Force, stationed at Kadena Air Base on Okinawa, an island that belongs to Japan. Commodore’s VIC 20 had us abuzz about computers. While we could easily see how it would make many things easier, shopping wasn’t yet on the menu. Nor was getting news updates. It was only toward the end of 1983 that I began learning about the concepts of ‘bulletin boards’, the Internet, and the worldwide web.

So back then, we watched television. Movies were watched via VHS tapes. That was the latest, greatest tech move for us, and such devices were still running close to $1,000. But we had one to help us weather the lack of entertainment inherent in being overseas. Remember, this was before satellite TV, too, for all practical purposes. All that stuff was just coming out, as were microwave ovens. They were also huge, bulky, expensive machines, but we purchased on of those, as well.

It’s hard to believe how fast everything changed. In late 1983, I bought my first CD player. It played one CD at a time. Returning to the U.S. from Japan, we gave our VHS player to my wife’s parents, and bought ourselves a new, smaller one with more features, including a remote control. That was the same year that I bought my first computer, a small but heavy Kaypro. Running at 4.77 megahertz, with a tiny green screen, it ran on CP/M and offered minimal RAM and two floppy drives that used 5 1/4 inch disks. It was a wild scene. We learned how to add RAM, make things faster, and double our floppy disks’ storage. Ten megahertz machines were being touted as possibilities, along with 64K of RAM and a 5-meg hard drive and 16 color monitors! Wow!

Back before that, we read. A lot. Books were checked out from the library, and research was done at the library. I subscribed to multiple magazines, such as Writer’s Digest, Autoweek, and Road & Track. Went for walks, played sports, read newspapers, which were delivered daily. When I lived in San Antonio, Texas, I subscribed to both the San Antonio Light and the Wall Street Journal. Even with the computer and VHS player coming along, and the CD player, and DVD players, most of that didn’t change. We still visited malls to shop, and used Sears and Spiegel catalogues to make orders, calling in to toll free numbers to put the order in. Board games like Risk, Life, and Monopoly were popular with us, along with Trivial Pursuit, and card games like Tripoli and King on the Corner, and Solitaire.

No, the big change came when the Internet finally fired up. My experience with it began in 1991, when I came back from Germany. Slow as hell, to be sure. Connections through modems which had to be hooked up. LOL. That changed fast, too, as built-in modems came along. I was both a Compuserve and AOL subscriber. Email was a new, exciting idea.

Then, suddenly we went to 256 colors and beyond on our monitors. The mouse became popular. 100 megahertz machines were being sold. I remembered buying and installing a 100-meg hard drive, and laughing. How was I ever going to use that much storage? It seemed so excessive. By then, our floppy drives were down to three-inch little colorful things. Now, we’re like, floppy drive? What the heck is that?

Going online was a wild scene back in the mid 1990s. Weren’t many websites in those early days. The games were something else. Research, news, and sports all became much more accessible. Then, boom…social media. That’s when things really flipped.

I’ve gone a few days in 2025 without my computer and without the Internet. Like before, we read, played games, and went for walks.

Just like it was 1982, just forty years ago, when I was younger, and so was the personal computer.

Sundaz Theme Music

So we have come to another Sunda. This is September 14, 2025. Thirty days hath September (just checked in my head), so tomorrow reaches the month’s halfway point. With the month’s end, we dip into 2025’s final quarter. It’s 65 F. Rain is in the clouds competing with the sunshine. Wind and trees are into a brisk dance.

Autumn is making solid inroads into our Pacific Northwest outlook. Today’s high will drift toward the mid seventies. My wife said, “I don’t mind it if the temperature drops but I dislike it when it’s so dark in the morning. I miss the morning light.” I totally get that and agree. As she went on to point out, the daylight savings situation doesn’t help, with us facing longer hours of early darkness as we begin our days.

My wife and I are trying to plan a trip back home for Mom’s 90th birthday do. However, my spouse said she experienced flashes of light in her eyes the other day as we went around Crater Lake and descended. She wants to have our eyes checked for problems before committing to flying. She’s not had incidents since that day, a week ago yesterday, and it was storming that day, with thunder and lightning. But she’s quite risk adverse. Having her eyes checked is the prudent thing to do.

I read a Politico piece titled, Trump loves AI, and the MAGA world is getting worried. It’s an interesting topic. I’m not surprised MAGA is generally against AI, as they tend to be people who dislike change and are slow to embrace technology. AI promises both fast change, and it’s advanced technology. Of course, Hollywood and television has fed us a dystopian diet of dire developments from AI. We have fears laced with worries baked into our cultural soul.

Other than that, I turned away from the news. It’s Sunda, a slow news day by design in the digital age. It’s more of a day of recap and reflection. I decided I’d do the same. I don’t know how the rest of the world does these things, but I’ll do it with a cuppa coffee, do some writing, read a book, clean, and converse with my wife. It feels like a good chillin’ day.

I dreamed of many cats last night. As I was digesting all that nocturnal churn, Papi and I went out for an early dose of sunshine and deep breathing. That ginger floof acted kittenish, galloping about, tail swishing, and then bounding into the house and across the rooms as I walked in behind him and laughed at his antics. With the sunshine and Papi’s attitude affecting them, The Neurons burst into the morning mental music stream with “Beautiful Day”. This is a U2 song from 2000, before this mess in America flared to its aggravating proportions. I played a U2 melody yesterday. Normally, I don’t present music from the same group two days in a row but this one worked for the moment, and I let Der Neurons’ choice stand.

Coffee has made incursions into my body. May grace and peace be with you and me and the world today and always. Cheers

The Writing Moment

I’ve been pursuing another novel’s completion. Been writing that puppy as I can while navigating the usual life interruptions. They don’t need counted down on two hands for you to understand all the life junk happening, right? Employ memory and imagination, and you’ll probably get it.

I’ve been sort of stymied. I’m not a plotter. I don’t outline a jot. I’m a solid pantser, leaping from slippery point to slippery point, following whims and impulses like they’re magic winds carrying me toward my destination. Except, suddenly the winds dropped me into a place I didn’t recognize. Not sure where to go, I did some editing, revising, and rewriting while muttering darkly to myself about being misled by mean muses and wondering what the hell had happened to the Writing Neurons. Besides those activities, I made some assumptions and conclusions about what I thought was wrong, how some things lacked enough substance and understanding to build upon, and conducted some writing exercises to stimulate me, myself, and I. I refer to these exercises as snapshots. They’re all just focus exercises to help me have greater understanding of whatever needs more understanding: setting, history, concept, characters, motivations, relationships, whatever you might find in a novel.

After four days of that, grappling with where I was, unsure where I was to go, I said to myself, “Come on, man. Pitter patter. Get ‘er at ‘er.” And miraculously, the muses and the Writing Neurons emerged today and ordered, “Start typing.” And then they guided me through story twists which I never saw. Well, I partly saw some of ’em. But some of the twists involved twists I’d come up with but didn’t know how to put into the story. Suddenly, click, yea! All came together.

Most satisfying writing day, it was. Sometimes it does pay just to sit down and write like crazy. Who do I need to bribe to get more of these?

Sumpin A Lil’ Different

My wife does a lot of scrolling. Not just doom scrolling, but also watching animal, political, and humor videos. She also reads a lot and constantly prowls for more books for her TBR list.

Today she was listening to Kristen Key talking about Buffalo Wings and other matters in Buffalo, NY. I found it funny and interesting and thought, let’s share this with the world. Socialize Kristen Key’s humor. Let us all laugh a bit. Hope you enjoy it as much as me.

Cheers

Twozdaz Theme Music

September is into its second day, and it’s Twozda. Word on the wireless wind is that we’ll see from 95 to 97 F in Ashlandia today. Depends on where you’re sitting. It’s 77 F now, sunny over a blue late summer sky.

Trump’s grant cuts have slammed into southern Oregon. Funny in a sad manner. Ashlandia is blue but Medford and other places lean hard red. Now, thanks to their MAGA hero, the Rogue Valley Transportation District has slashed bus services. That happened because Trump, working through DOGE, ripped away the grants the service depended on as part of their flawed war on ‘fraud, waste, and abuse’. Ten routes were cut, reducing us from 16 to 6, almost 63%. Saturday bus service is eliminated. Mon-Fri service hours have been cut back. So, there will be less drivers. Less employment. The poor, under-employed, and elderly needed transportation to and from work, social services, and visits to doctors and hospitals are said to be most affected. Just Trump taking care of his voters once again but coldly and callously cutting services they needed, after previous administrations and Congress worked together with local state, city, and county governments to make it happen.

Speaking of Trump, Earlthepearl suggested that today’s song could be “Legs” by ZZ Top. Thepearl cited the floating rumor that doctors might need to remove one of Trump’s legs. I like the idea, but The Neurons had other plans. After TACO’s mewling about ‘getting into heaven’, I have “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” playing in the morning mental music stream. Trouble is, said Neurons can’t decide on which version to play. Weirdly, I now have Guns N’ Roses performing it, along with the song’s composer, Bob Dylan. Every now and again, a little bit of “Legs” by ZZ Top is snuck in. The brain is a chaotic place this morning. Anywho, I believe we’ll go with both versions of “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”. One is honor of a young guy who served with me. Hearing GNR do “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” when it came out in 1987, he came to me and a few other established rockers and exclaimed, “Come on, you got to admit, this is a great song.” We replied, “You do know that this is a cover, don’t you?” Ya should’ve seen his jaw drop.

But then, an audible was called at the line. Playing for Change’s cover replaced GNR.

Coffee has been ordered into my body to establish order. Hope peace and grace take hold of you and lead you through the messes and deliver you safely to the other end. Cheers

Choices

Maurice was the new man. Looked like his birth gender might have been different. Or maybe he was just a beautiful man with some exquisite feminine elements. Either way stirred me into intrigue.

He glided us through the identification protocols. I played nice. The others punish you if you don’t play nice. Outside of this establishment, they’ll pound you until death gives you a smile unless you play nice. Death and I played tonguesies a few times before that lesson found a way through my paywall.

Now to business, Maurice orchestrated a beautiful smile my way. Wonder if all those beaming white chicklets were real and natural. Such aquamarine eyes, too. Wars nicely with the glass-smooth mocha skin. Ah, to be wrinkle free. Like that matters to such as me.

“You have two outstanding attributes which might be available to you, Mickey,” Maurice purred. My mind surfed a mental register of attributes and awaited further info. “Invisibility and timetravel are both possible for you, but only one or the other.”

My mind jumped, flipped, and twirled like Simone Biles. Invisibility is the second-least attribute found in people. Time travel is queen of the rarest. No wonder pretty Maurice was here chatting me up. “Wow,” I said like a hayseed blown in on the wind. “I’d like being them.”

A professionally contrite expression landed on Maurice’s beauty. “I’m afraid that you can only be one or the other.”

“Oh.” I poured sadness into my gaze. “That’s a bummer. I thought it’d be so great to be an invisible timetraveller. Just think of the fun.”

“Yes, the opportunities which present do boggle the mind.”

LOL. Only salespeople talk like that.

Maurice ran me the drawbacks and bennies the program provides with those attributes. I made noises and expressions like I paid extreme attention and contained excited interest. I knew from farm skuttle that every attribute has drawbacks. As Maurice delicately phrased it, “Time travel unfortunately damages the cerebral cortex, amygdala, and hippocampi. Being invisible shreds muscle mass and does nerve damage.” He went on with greater clinical details without graphic explanation about how long it generally takes to do these things to people with those attributes.

My mind had already harvested those details and was racing through previously exercised pros and cons in the two choices, searching for the answer, which attribute will be the Amazon Prime delivering my freedom? My shackled co-inhabitants in the farm all punched in with seasoned reasoning about the attributes and freedom. We did it with all the attributes. Nightly ritual. No matter, as Daisychain always said as the bottom line, “You might think you’ll get out, but they will bring you back.”

Someone always put in the addendum, “Or kill you.”

We always laughed with deathly glee. Like being killed was terrible.

Yes, we were ignorant about how terrible things could be in the Farm. We didn’t know that they protected us from knowing.

So, like others, thinking myself more cunning than our masters, I answered Maurice’s ultimate query with suitably guarded hope, kidding myself that they didn’t see right through it.

“I’ll go for timetravel.”

Because I didn’t know that, yes, there are people who can both timetravel and be invisible.

They were the ones who began the program.

I was soon to meet them.

The Writing Moment

I brought a few books with me to read on vacation. One was recommended by my wife. She picked the recommendation up from Ann Patchett via Ann’s regular video post, New to You. My wife heard what Ann Patchett said about reading while writing a novel, and then what she said about this book, and told me, “I think you want to read this book.”

The book is a memoir, Running in the Family, by Michael Ondaatje. Ann says something like, “It’s beautifully written and writers will love it.” I picked it up to begin reading today. Tucking it under my arm, a glass of wine in my other hand, I climbed the spiral staircase to the third-floor loft. Out on the balcony where the sunshine sparked with Pacific blue, I sat down and began to read.

After a few pages, I knew that I could not read it now. The book was an immediate serum inducing me, go write. But my writing needs separation from friends. Space to let the writing neurons take over. And I get cranky when I’m interrupted while writing. I talked to my wife and friends about the book and put it away, to be read when I get home. This is a library copy. I think I might need to buy my own copy.

And then I’ll write like crazy, at least one more time.

Mundaz Theme Music

Hey, jewels and gems, it’s Munda, August 11, 2025. Today features clear skies and heat. Didn’t cool much last night after we pegged 104 F at my house. Only dropped to 71 in the nocturnal hours. Now it’s in the upper 70s and rushing toward 103 F. Fire warnings abound.

While not too cool, the moon was full and bright. Papi and I enjoyed the moment together. Only sound heard were crickets and the rush of machinery up the asphalt river called I-5, several miles away.

Reading today’s headlines, I’m furious with Trump and the GOP. Ignoring laws and truth, that gold-plated Offal Office buffoon ordered troops into D.C. to restore law and order, a law and order that had no problem, except one of his DOGE boy toys was victimized by crime. It’s brought on a full-throated whole-body GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR out of me. Can’t imagine this going over well with anyone but the Project 2025 Christian white supremacy gang and the most deeply immersed of the MAGAts. For me, it shows Trump’s deep desperation to play king and distract from the growing pile of things going wrong and matters worsening in the United States. He’s also trying so damn hard to keep his MAGAts and everyone else from thinking about him and his relationship with Epstein and the many crimes which may be exposed when that file is released.

Today’s music is credited to thinking about Trump. Precisely: how Jeffrey Epstein introduced Trump to his third wife at one of Epstein’s debauched affairs, the ones with the details in the Epstein File.

Trump partying with sex offenders Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell and his third wife, Ivanka.

Donald Trump, with his new girlfriend and future third wife, and several convicted sex offenders.

As I was thinking about that meeting, Der Neurons rewarded those thoughts with an Eddie Money beat as “Shakin'” from 1982 opened into the morning mental music stream.

She was shakin’ (oh-oh-oh-oh)
Snappin’ her fingers (oh-oh-oh-oh)
She was movin’ round and round (oh-oh-oh-oh)
That girl was shakin’ (oh-oh-oh-oh)

So, this Mundaz theme song is owed to those BFFs, Donald Trump and the late Jeffrey Epstein.

Had some coffee. Off to deliver Food & Friends. Hope your day is awash in peace and grace. Cheers

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