Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
My wife and I were at a pool. I somehow got involved in a swimming class. Others were doing it. There was a white cloth or panel on the pool’s bottom. Our guidance was to take a deep breath, dive to the bottom, get the item, swim to the other side of the pool and surfaced.
My wife laughed. “He’s a really strong swimmer. He’ll do that without trying.”
I did. I’m not a strong swimmer but I’m good at holding my breath.
After doing that on the first attempt, they set me loose in free-practice to keep getting better.
Next, we moved inside. Now I was helping with some kind of television or streaming shopping channel. I was to write on a piece of cardboard and then slid the info forward so some announcer could see it. The info was being given to me by another person, and I was to keep writing the new price as it came in and show it.
Well, I screwed it up the first two times. I did well the third time, and then the people told me to keep practicing. I did for a while and then someone came by and told me I had a new assignment. This involved reading textbooks. The assignment confused me. “I’m just supposed to read them all? Will there be tests?” Yes, I’m to read them all, astounding me. A large range of topics were included. Stacks of books awaited my eyes. And yes, I would be tested.
I began that assignment and was startled about how fast I discovered I could read and learn. After four of five books, I was just fanning the pages. Witnessing this, my wife chastised me. “You’re supposed to be learning this.” I laughed back. “I am. Give me a book. I’ll read it and you can ask me questions, and I’ll answer them.”
She gave me a book. I read it. She asked me three questions, and I answered them all.
Another instructor arrived. I was being taken to a new class. The instructor said, “In this class, you’ll be taught how to use energy to change things.” I asked, “What kind of things will I be able to change?”
She answered, “Wait and see.”
The dream ended as a cat tapped my hand and meowed.
It was a very uplifting and energizing dream.
The cat agrees with me. It’s a nice day to rest. Allergies have me nose snorking. My throat feels a little sore and inflamed. I wonder over whether it’s allergies or some other new diseases encouraged my Trump’s feckless management.
Trump is quite the feckless person these days, pivoting from idea to idea. Feels like we’re being guided by a two-year-old who is just discovering words.
Outside, the weather is better than my mood. Sunshine skips between clouds. It’s 50 F but feels warmer. Springier. A mild wind sometimes lashes nature into movement. It might touch 70 F today. I had plans but my whining side is undermining them.
I smirk as I read news of Trump supporters like Joe Rogan, Ben Shapiro, et al, barking and whining about Trump’s tariffs. Will he listen to the shitheels? Questionable. They encouraged him to be who he is. Supported him all the way. Told others to do the same. That’s probably confusing and irritating to puppy Trump and the pack. “Why’d you vote me in when I told you I would do this, only to turn around and tell me not to do that after I’ve been voted in?”
Painful as this is, we wouldn’t be enduring this pain if those people — those ‘influencers’ — thought more about what was going on and what was going to happen. But oh, no, eggs! So ‘pensive! Border! Fear! Kamala is a woman! Female POTUS — so scawy!
Now look at their worry and fear. Who let the dog out?
Reading these things, pondering them as coffee warms my throat, The Neurons bring “Mad World” by Tears for Fears into the morning mental music stream. That makes total sense.
Yes, coffee is warming me but it’s giving little comfort. Trump’s supporters are turning on him but that’s also offering little comfort. GOP reps are supposedly resisting Trump’s budget and tariffs. That gives me little comfort. They’ve proven themselves to be feckless and spineless. Like that Mitch McConnell, basically declaring with a pout, “Oh, no, he’s going too far.”
You created that monster, fool.
My wife passed “Death of the Author” to me after she finished reading it. She said, “You’ll thank me later.” I think I’ll go read a book.
Cheers
Funny to me that this is a prompt today, as I was remembering these two teachers this morning before I went online. The pair of teachers were my favorites and most influential. One was encountered in sixth grade while the other taught me two years later.
First, each encouraged me to think harder and try harder. Through their support, I gained self-confidence. Both introduced me to new areas of literature. My sixth-grade teacher, Mrs Forsythe (who was previously Mrs Fogle) read aloud to the class every afternoon. One book she read to us was Flowers for Algernon. Noticing how much I enjoyed it, she took the time to suggest other books and authors to me. From this came my infatuation with science fiction and fantasy, and a lifelong love affair with reading.
Mrs Rubenstein, in the eight grade, taught me to read the news and actually think about what was being said about events of the era. This was during Nixon’s first term. The United States was still fighting in Vietnam. The intense Cold War with the USSR was one facet of worry for us, but many other wars raged, and students were protesting the world’s direction across the United States.
Both of these teachers fired an intense interest in events beyond the end of my nose. I hope that everyone has at least one teacher like them in their lives. I was fortunate to have two. There were several others for me who opened my mind as well, but these two women were very special in my development.
I will never forget them and the debts I owe them.
This is such an easy question to answer. I wish I could write more every day. Yes, fill my cup with coffee and let me write without end. I’m talking about fiction writing. Novels and such. I really enjoy writing fiction.
I also wish I could eat more every day. I’m limited in my eating by obscure factors like sodium in foods, gaining weight, and staying healthy. So I’m restricted in how much I can eat every day. It’s a shame, too, because there are many foods which I really enjoy and would like to eat more every day. Like, right now, I could really go for a piece of pie. Blueberry. With ice cream.
Of course, I’d also like to socialize more every day. I’m writing, and that’s not a social activity, speaking for myself, of course, so that limits how much time I have to socialize. A few more hours of socializing every day would be good for me, I think. So I wish that I could socialize more every day.
Spending more time reading is also something I’d wish to be able to do more every day. I love reading, and there are so many awesome writers out there. So many great novels, books, essays, and articles to read. While I’m at it, I also wish to study more every day. I would love to be able to spend time deeply studying art, architecture, and history, along with literature and quantum mechanics.
Then again, if I could, I wish I could spend more time with my wife every day. She’s an intelligent person and a lot of fun.
Another wish I’d have is to be able to visit with my family more every day. They live in other parts of the country, so it takes time and money to visit them, and doing so interrupts my other wishes. But if we had a teleporter, I could probably make it work.
While I’m thinking about it, I also wish I could travel more. I’ve done some traveling, mostly around the United States, Far East, some northern Africa, and Europe. I’ve rarely been south of the equator, so I’d like to visit ruins and cultures in the southern latitutes. I wish I could travel more every day and go to places like Australia, New Zealand, Brazil, and Antarctica. I’ve also always wanted to visit Sri Lanka.
I also wish I could time travel more every day. I’ve learned through hard experience that time travel has a lot of perks but man, when you screw it up, it’s downright hard to fix. There’s a lot of things I need to apologize to the world about which has happened because of my botched time traveling. I feel really guilty about it, too, but if I can just find the time — ha, sorry about that, that pun wasn’t planned — I wish I could time travel more every day.
Since I’m confessing, I’d also wish to be able to see the future more every day. You know, predict things. But time travel has screwed that up, too, as has my dimension clones. If it wasn’t for them bouncing between dimensions, I’d have a much better life and would be way better at seeing the future. I think we all would. But, anyway…
Other than that brief list, there’s nothing I wish to do more every day. Oh, except exercise. And paint. I painted a great deal when I was young but not so much as an adult. I wish I could paint more every day.
Oh, and go fishing.
Other than those few things, there’s nothing.
Oh, except sleeping. I really wish I could sleep more every day.
But that’s all.
Except, I wish I could just relax and do nothing more every day. Because I really am lazy at heart.
And that’s it. There is no more.
Well, except for a few DIY projects around the house. I wish I had time to do more DIY every day.
And that’s all.
I think.
From nothing but a whim, my favorite short stories. Well, it began at the library. My wife and I went in to pick up two books she had on hold. The ‘Staff Picks’ display at the front desk including a book called Nine Stories, a collection of short stories by J.D. Salinger which I enjoyed when I was a teenager. I read the first one while my wife was doing her librarying thing. That triggered thoughts about short stories I remember and count among my favorites from my youth because they affected how I viewed the world after reading them.
A Jury of Her Peers – Susan Glaspell
Sandkings – George R.R. Martin
The Lottery – Shirley Jackson
I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream – Harlan Ellison
The Open Window – Saki
Soft-boiled Sergeant – J.D. Salinger
My primary time suck comes down to the three Rs: Reading, Riting, and Research. Yes, I spelled writing wrong, dropping the ‘w’. But it’s a silent ‘w’, isn’t it? Does riting sound that different from writing? Does riting sound rong?
Looks weird as hell, I admit.
I could have also just changed the title to The Three Ws, adding a silent ‘w’ to reading and research, creating wreading and wresearch.
I enjoy words. Their histories fascinate me. And I enjoy making things up. That’s why I rite fiction.
I also love reading, or, as some might rite it, wreading. The ‘w’ is silent. I read multiple genres, although I shy away from horror and wromance. Science fiction narrowly leads fantasy and historical fiction, but I enjoy thrillers and mysteries, too. I also enjoy non-fiction about history, economics, politics, quantum mechanics, and time.
Besides wreading and writing, I enjoy wresearch. Wresearch can easily become a time suck. Once upon a time, a show called Connections aired. The British science historian, James Burke, hosted the show. The show explored technological and scientific progress but veered off into tangents and side effects about how such advances were employed, resulting in surprising revealations. That sort of revelatory pingpong the show employed stirred me to continue such wresearch. The Internet is a tremendous catalyst to such wresearch.
My wresearch goes everywhere. Some of it is anchored to childhood memories of sports, politics, historic events, science, and pop culture. I remember things but often want to validate my memory. Verifying that I correctly remember matters causes me to delve deeper into details and background information, and often triggers side journeys into related matters.
When I was employed, my three time sucks secured me solid positions and helped foster my success. Now a retiree, I happily pursue them every day.
There are way worse ways to live.
Michael Seidel, writer 