Tag: writing

Thursday’s Theme Music

Blue skies and frosty white. This is Thursday. Our temperature is either 30, 37 or 40, all degrees in Fahrenheit. My house station where the furnace runs to warm us claims it is 30 F. Alexa says it’s 37 and another net site claims 40.

Today is January 26, 2023. We’re almost done with the two-faced month. Walking around the house at 6:37 AM, I was impressed by how much daylight I was seeing. That was despite us being in night mode, with all the blinds closed. Sunrise stepped in at 7:32, and off we went.

Today will reach 55 F or so before the sun vanishes from the Ashlandia sky around the 5:20 PM time period — it’ll be earlier in the mountains’ shadows by an hour or seem like the sun has set — but the forecasters are warning us. Winter is going to get serious. Lower temperatures will be coming by, clouds are collecting, and rain and snow are possible. Then, fanfare, Monday will see an Arctic blast. Lows will freefall into the teens. Daytime highs will scrap into the thirties. Break out extra binkies and some space heaters, hope power doesn’t fail, and take measures to ensure your pipes don’t freeze. The hardest part, though, will be convincing Papi to stay in. He’s gonna test the temps, I know.

First question for me as I pulled up the net was a cynical thought, what celebrity died today? It used to be ‘always in threes’ but now it seems to be evolving to one a day. Not a surprise if you think about it. We created an age of celebrity with the electronic age, lionizing those among us who rise in sports, politics, entertainment, and industry. Now they’re aging. Some, inevitably, will pass.

Speaking of passing, a 1972 Moody Blues song, “I’m Just A Singer (In A Rock and Roll Band)” has passed into the morning mental music stream. This came about as a character was going through a scene change as I did my morning business. He was lamenting about what he did and didn’t know and the limitations on what he could do as a result of his chaos sister’s death.

Stay pos. Hope your Thursday will be a fine venture. I’m off to refresh my coffee. Cheers

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The Writing Moment

As he edited, he was reading others’ fiction. More than once, reading a chapter or two (they were small chapters) of This Is How You Lose the Time War prompted him to steal back to his computer and resume his editing. It made up a perfect sequence of hours, reading, writing, editing, drinking coffee, and snacking.

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The Writing Moment

Although he was still at home, preparing to leave, he’d already shifted into writing mode. His mind’s doors were open to characters. Watching and listening to them like they were people arriving at a conference, he addressed a scene which he’d edited yesterday and barely heard his wife saying something about a news event.

He turned to her as her remark’s tail end registered. “Who?”

She repeated the name and summarized who he was.

He nodded. “Oh. Him. Yes.” He knew exactly who she was talking about. It’s just that he wasn’t really there. It was only his body which was present.  

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