Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
His wife commented on his recent restlessness at night. He’d been watching television until he fell asleep and she wondered why.
“Well, I start writing, editing, and plotting in my head. Once I do that, it takes hours to fall asleep. The TV distracts me from doing that.”
She answered, “I thought you’d fall asleep easily if you’re writing in your head. Daydreaming always makes me fall asleep.”
He responded with a hard stare. “Writing is not daydreaming.”
Give me an F. Give me an E. Give me a B.
Well, that’s enough of that.
Yes, February has arrived. Today is the first day of our shortest month. At least, it’s the shortest month in the U.S. It’s also Black History Month. Feb. has several holidays embedded in it and will be home to Superbowl LVII. Not bad for a short month from the sticks.
I personally like February. Not because it’s short, or the holidays, nor Black History Month, but because I can feel that transition from winter to spring begin in Feb. Daylight spreads into more hours with earlier sunshine in the morning and later sunsets at night. The air warms a few traces, and a feeling of hopefulness arises. That’s just me, I suppose.
It’s also Wednesday. Now 32 F outside, the sky is bluish and rich with sunny promise. Sunrise was at7:24 AM but it was nice walking into the living room at 6:40 Papi Standard Time and be able to see and walk about without problem because natural light was squeaking in through and around the window blinds. Sunset comes ten hours after the sunrise was noted, giving Ashlandia’s first ten hours of daylight in 2023. More to come, I hope.
Fuel is in the morning mental music stream with “Hemorrhage (In My Hands”. The song was released back when the century rolled over from the 1900s to the 2000s. It’s one of those that I often heard while commuting to work. I later read that the songwriter’s inspiration was his grandmother’s death from cancer, which made me listen more carefully to the song. Today it’s here in my head due to one string of lyrics: “Memories are just where you leave them, drag the waters, ’til the depths give up their dead.”
And no, that’s not about my life but about plotting, writing, and characters.
Stay positive. Make February a month which counts. My coffee has been swallowed and the bottom of the cup lays bare, damp, and sad. Here is Fuel. Cheers
“One day, one to go…” Opening words from the song in my morning mental music stream, “Leave It” by Yes, 1984, The Neuron’s response to the writing and editing process. The inspirational words were, “One day, one to go.” I’d say that to myself as I revised by chapter. A zillion chapters remain but I take them one by one.
It’s Friday again. Clouds have swarmed over the house, kicking sunshine into a faded backdrop. Temperature is kissing 36 F but we’re told 42 F is possible. So is rain and snow.
Today’s version of January 27 was delivered by 2023. I’m sure many things have happened to me on January 27 in previous years but the glue has come off those memories. That’s how it goes.
Les chats’ attitude has dipped below the happy line due to the sunshine’s level. They walk around chatting up how nice it would be to go outside and sit in the sun. They can go out, but I keep telling them, there is no shine the way you’re wishing for it, kitties, not at this hour on this day. Their insistence must be admired. Their reality says, warm sunshine is somewhere, and I will find it. No wonder so many writers have feline companions.
Alright, coffee is here. I’m going to hit the cup and read the news. Stay positive and enjoy your Friday, making of it what you can.
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
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.
Michael Seidel, writer 