Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofbinger (floofinition) – Behavior or signs by animals that foreshadows a future event or that gives an anticipatory indication of what’s to come.
In use: “The house beagles woke up, sat up, and broke out in howls, a floofbinger that emergency vehicles and their sirens would soon be heard.”
Bon Floofvi (floofinition) – Headlining floof rock band. Formed in Floof Jersey in 1983, they achieved significant success in 1984, but stormed to global fame with their third album, Slippery When Floof. The band announced it was recording its fifteenth album in 2020.
In use: “Bon Floofvi’s 1986 song, “You Give Vets A Bad Name”, which became the band’s first number one hit in the Floofnited States.”
Uriah Floof (floofinition) – Floofish hard floof rock (flock) band formed in 1969 in London, Floofland.
In use: “Two of Uriah Floof’s better known songs are “Floofy Livin'” and “Floof Lorraine”, which were both released in 1972.”
Trifloofulate (floofinition) – To surround a person or another animal with three other animals.
In use: “When Michael moved to the dining room, he discovered that the cats had trifloofulated around him.”
Homeofloofsis (floofinition) – A relatively stable group of animals of different species, breeds, or personalities.
In use: “Pet owners usually need some cooperation from their in-residence fur friends to achieve homeofloofsis.”
Black Eyed Floofs (floofinition) – Floof hop group formed in Los Floofgelos in 1995. Although significant success wasn’t achieved until their third album in 2003, they have become one of the best-selling floof groups of all time and performed at Superfloof XLV in 2011.
In use: “The Black Eyed Floofs’ song, “Boom Boom Paw” was the group’s first number one, followed by “I’ve Gotta Itchy”, spent fourteen weeks at number one in the Floofnited States, both in 2009.”
On Wednesday, I mentioned a couple of my recent dreams to my wife. She shook her head; “You’re on another plan with those dreams. I have no idea what’s going on.”
Yeah, I often have that feeling about my dreams, but many of them reassure and inspire me. Not so the dreams of Wednesday and Thursday nights. Of the silly variety, I call them my sitcom dreams. Along with what I call my ‘episodic adventure dreams’, the sitcom dreams happen regularly. There’s always a string of them. Although they amuse me, I rarely post about them.
For example, one dream last night had me attempting to feed two cats. The cats in question were Jade and Quinn. Quinn died two years ago after being with us for twelve years. Jade came to us on Okinawa and was with us for twenty-one years. Both were sweethearts, although Jade was furiously intelligent and willful.
In the dream, I was trying to feed these two in my backyard. I had a food bowl set up for them but they were crowding me, giving me the impression they were hungry. Naturally, I talked to them about it.
“Why are you asking me for food. There’s plenty of food in your bowl. Come on, I’ll” I led through the yard’s lush green grass back to their food bowl. “See?” I pointed. They hurried to their food bowl, sniffing, then turned to me in question. Puzzled, I went to the food bowl. Closer to it, I discovered that what I thought was cat kibble was sandwich wedges. Checking them out with surprise, I discovered they were stale.
“Sorry,” I told the cats. “Let me clean this up and then I’ll give you real food.”
As I was cleaning, putting the stale sandwiches to one side, a man and his family — neighbors — passed by, watching me as they went. I heard the father say to the rest, “He is burying the cats’ feces.” I smiled when I heard him but didn’t clarify what was going on.
That’s where that one ended. See what I mean? There were six or seven of these sort of dreams, about cars, technology, cats, and houses. While I take humor from them, I do acquire some deeper insights about myself from the sitcom dreams. I might be rationalizing what happens but I like it. Still, I’m looking forward to a return my normal dream programming.
I can always use reassuring.
Flooftivist (floofinition) 1. Animal who protests how animals (including itself) are being treated or kept.
In use: “Jade was a flooftivist from an early age, conducting sit-ins and lie-ins against unreasonable rules, such as ‘don’t take food off plates’ and ‘don’t get on the kitchen counter’.”
2. A person who uses or supports strong actions (such as public protests) in support of animal rights or against animal abuse.
In use: “With the surge of information on the web came increasing evidence and awareness that animals have more intelligence and experience more emotions that previously accepted, generating more flooftivists from earlier ages and more areas of the world.”
I was stuck in Arsehold for the last two weeks. You may have experienced the same.
I’ve been writing a novel while locked away. That’s not so different from my normal life, where I’m always working on a novel. Many people think I’m working on one novel forever and a day, but I’ve finished many. I shrug them off; I enjoy novel writing.
I think under ordinary circumstances, this would have been finished a few months ago. These aren’t normal times, at least for me. I’m assuming a lot with those words. It’s sadly probably normal for quite a few people to stay locked up in one place, with limited contact for other people. I think of prisons. Nursing homes. Hospitals. Yeah, getting downright depressing, isn’t it?
Some say that such solitude is a gift. I’m not one. While I’m a solitary person, I like outside stimulation. (Sounds a bit naughty, doesn’t it?) Like to walk to clear my mind, shift into writing mode, and slip into the noisy solitude of a good cuppa coffee in a coffee shop, hunch over my laptop, and tap away.
All that normal-for-me isn’t available now. Coronavirus lockdown, you know. Although I have coffee and space, I also have wife and cats. They struggle with my writing boundaries. My wife tries respecting them, but news of the world sets her off. I also don’t try enforcing my isolation with her, as she’s in the same situation as me. She’s much more verbal, however, and craves other contact. While she’s dancing and exercising Monday through Friday via Zoom, and meets with her book club once a month with Zoom, and Zooms into a coffee klatch almost every week, she likes expressing her opinions and insights vigorously and out loud. There’s usually a lot of swearing involved, too. She’s quite passionate about social justice, equality, human rights, and women’s rights. She also hates Trump and has little respect for most other Republicans. So I try to indulge, but then I suffer. Either way, one of us must suffer in our situation. We get over it, but it’s not ideal.
The cats, however, don’t give a damn that I’m writing, reading, playing a game, sleeping, eating, showering, or sitting on the toilet. Three cats share ownership over me. They have their own secret agendas, which surprisingly, often involves me. Part of that is which cat owns the most of me, and whether that’s acceptable to the other cats.
Between wife, news of the world, the coming and going of the muses, and the cats, novel writing progress has been uneven.
But I persevere. Sometimes, the worse interruption is by me to myself. Self-doubt. Imposter syndrome. General malaise. It struck hardest in Arsehold.
Arsehold is a place in my novel, wholly made up. I came up with the name months ago, a whim that made me laugh. I stuck with it, creating the setting around the name, devising the history of how it came to be. Yet, my characters struggled to get through Arsehold. I naturally responded, per my proclivities, to overanalyze what was going on and why, attempting to seek the root of my issues. I thought it might be the general tone. Perhaps some of the introduced characters weren’t clear enough. Maybe, maybe my characters shouldn’t be in Arsehold. And what happens after Arsehold?
Writing helps me think by creating a funnel through which I must focus. With all this mental flaying, I did a lot of writing about the novel in progress, addressing the concept, characters, story, plot, locations and settings, etc. Eventually, I took all the assembled material of the novel in progress, one hundred twenty-five thousand words, and began reading, editing, and revising, putting the story into the order that I think it’ll be in published form.
That helped. By the time I’d reached Arsehold (almost sounds like a song lyric — I can hear CCR doing stuck in Arsehold instead of Lodi), I’d discovered that the errors that I thought I was seeing weren’t there. It always scares me to think or say, hey, this is pretty damn good, about what I’m writing, but that’s what I concluded. Of course, it’s my work; if I didn’t think it was good, maybe I should be working on something else, right?
Anyway, I think I might get through Arsehold this week (knock on wood, he said, tapping the side of his head). Got my coffee; time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
Equifloofable (floofinition) – Agreeable to all animals.
In use: “When it came to laps, finding equifloofable sitting arrangements for a household with five dogs, six cats, and four humans resulted in some crowded sofas, chairs, and laps.”
Michael Seidel, writer 