The Writing Moment
One of those days of sunshine and just the right smell and air texture that my brain asked, “You sure you want to go to the coffee shop? Sure you want to be inside, siting at a laptop at a table, inside, mind you, did I point that out, pecking away on a keyboard? Are you sure that you want to do that on such a pretty springy, summery day? Just think what it’s like outside. You get a chair and go out there and read and doze…you should think about it.”
I did think about it. So gosh darn tempting. Then I remembered what was happening with the character, plot, story, and suddenly I was in a hurry to get to the coffee shop, plant my ass, and peck away.
Friday’s Theme Music
It’s raining again, a light falling, bringing up SuperTramp’s song from fifty years ago. Today is Jun 9, 2023. Friday. Last night’s thunderstorms skirting us. We could hear them like someone shouting from far away. “What?” You should back. “I don’t know what you’re saying.” You strain to hear and then just shake your head and walk away, muttering, “I can’t understand them.”
As for rain last night, it spit on us a bit a few times, but left us alone. Temperature topped 84 F locally, for the record.
Of course, yesterday started with a blue sky. Blue is as rare today as snow on a summer lawn. Clouds of different colors, depths and textures, ranging from flat white with a tincture of gray to billowing, curly, unkempt clouds edgy with dark pockets, have blanketed the sky. It’s 61 F now and the weather gurus tell us 79 will be the high, and there will be rain and thunderstorms later today. As always with weather, we’ll see.
Several songs inhabit the morning mental scream. “Wipe Out”. “Sweat Pea”. The Neurons are mixing weather, writing, and dream inputs. But I went with the song which came up after the dream sequences finished, “Fly Like An Eagle” by The Steve Miller Band, 1976.
Hope you stay pos and enjoy a most excellent Friday. I’m enjoying a most excellent cup of coffee. Establishes my baseline for the day. Here’s the music. Cheers
The Writing Moment
Now I’m at that exciting, challenging, edgy time during the writing process. I’m in the first draft, and the middle. It’s all flow, bursting out like fast-moving magma. Like witnessing a huge event. Think seeing a disaster, a political rally, a football game. It’s almost overwhelming; focus must be found and kept. Everything is sucked in for processing, to be written in coherent fashion, coherent enough to keep moving the story toward the end.
