Dream conundrum

      No Comments on Dream conundrum

I woke up this morning to the realization that all of my dreams last night centered around sleep.

Curling up on the floor to sleep.

Laying my head on a desk to sleep.

Stretching out in a chair to sleep.

In my dreams the desire to sleep was so great that I didn’t care where or when I closed my eyes. I just wanted to sleep.

Strange. I could understand daydreaming about sleep, if I was very, very tired.

But why dream about sleeping while asleep?

I hope I didn’t break some rule of the universe, like the time travel one where you’re not supposed to interact with yourself.

 

Guilt sponge

      No Comments on Guilt sponge

I don’t know why it has to be this way. Empathy is supposed to be a good thing.

But it has a dark side. Very dark.

You know what I’m talking about. Guilt.

The unescapable curse of the empathetic.

I guess it’s a matter of dosage. A little bit of empathy is a good thing. Everybody should have enough to let them feel another’s pain. It keeps us human.

But an overdose can turn a person into a guilt sponge.

Or maybe it’s more that empathy gets twisted.

Whatever the reason, it makes it so I cannot watch THAT commercial on TV. You know, the give-us-money-so-we-can-save-a-dog commercial. The one that floods the screen with heartbreaking pictures of dogs that have been mistreated.

Even the thought of it makes me cringe. Those sad, sad eyes, looking at me, blaming me…

I tried watching once. Once. By the end of the commercial I had soaked up about a ton of other people’s guilt. And like any good sponge I proceeded to ooze it back out again. In the form of uncontrollable tears. Even though my head knew it wasn’t true, my heart felt that I had personally been cruel to each of those poor dogs.

And that was just a commercial.

Morning quiet

      No Comments on Morning quiet

It was so quiet when I got up this morning that I imagined I could hear the delicate mist of Seattle rain as it tiptoed a landing onto my roof.

In reality, I could hear no such thing. My house, like most modern houses, is never truly silent. Every mechanical or electrical gadget contributes to a background noise we have all become so accustomed to that we rarely notice it anymore.

So I decide to tune in. Just out of curiosity.

The first thing I notice is the clock on my wall, which is the kind that either ticks or tocks to mark each second. Day in and day out, that clock provides a steady beat, yet I rarely hear it.

Then the refrigerator kicks in with a series of  random clanks and bangs it is fond of contributing several times a day, I assume to let me know it is doing its job. As the last bang fades away, I realize what I had thought of as silence from the refrigerator is in reality an incessant whirl that fills in all the blank spaces and assures that the house is never truly quiet.

Outside a car motor revs into life just in time to distract me from that ever-present refrigerator, and I listen as the purr of the engine gets louder, then fades away, taking who-knows-who to some kind of adventure who-knows-where.

As the last vestiges of the purr fades away it is replaced by the steady drone of a plane engine. But before my brain has time to focus on the plane, the loud wail of a siren from a nearby fire station rents the air and overwhelms every other sound in a 10 block radius.

Ah, yes. There is nothing like morning quiet.

 

Quite a pumpkin find!

      No Comments on Quite a pumpkin find!

We went to a pumpkin patch/corn maze yesterday.

Getting lost in the maze was fun, but finding these pumpkins really made my day.
Who needs to carve pumpkins when they grow this scary all on their own?
This one I named Warty, for obvious reasons.
But this beauty is a little trickier.
I know it’s a pumpkin, because I picked it myself in a pumpkin patch,
but look at those kernel-like bumps!
It is a lot more corn-like than it is pumpkin-like.
Maybe it decided to be corn for Halloween. If so, great costume!
So should I call it Cornkin?
Or Pumpkorn?
Decisions, decisions.

“Take a selfie here!”

      No Comments on “Take a selfie here!”

This summer we did a bit of traveling. One of the places we visited was Oxnard, California.

The hotel was fantastic, which meant it was clean, comfortable, and convenient. I was impressed by both it’s proximity to the beach and the fact that the one bedroom suite had two bathrooms.

But I was not impressed with the multitude of “Take a selfie here!” signs stuck all over the place, cluttering up the scenery.

Did the hotel management really think people needed to be encouraged to take selfies? Have they never walked down pretty much any street, anywhere?

Me, I’m not into selfies. Why should I waste time taking pictures of me? I can see me any time I want. All I have to do if find a mirror and BAM, there I am.

Instead, I’d rather capture the unique and/or illusive. Like these black flowers.
I’ve never seen flowers quite like these in Seattle.
Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.
Well worth a picture.

Switching gears

      No Comments on Switching gears

Writing a novel requires very different mind muscles than those needed to write a screenplay. Which is why I switch back and forth. To grow better, stronger writing muscles.

At least, that’s what I hope I’m doing.

But it’s not easy, switching back and forth.

In order to write a novel I must examine every minute detail. Novels are written from the inside, so  I put on scuba gear and dive right in. I become part of the inner circle, privy to every thought, every action, every dream.

Then I find a way to share the secrets with the reader in a way that makes sense, and a good story. (At least I hope I do.)

It can be intense. I’ve been known to get lost inside my character’s heads.
Trust me, with some characters that can be a tad scary.

But screenwriting is different. Screenplays are written from the outside. So I strip off the scuba gear and pull out the old binoculars. Screenplays require a bit of distance. What you see is what you get.

Of course, that doesn’t make it any less intense, only different.

My poor brain usually balks at the shift. I’ve not yet been able to put aside one, and immediately pick up the other.

So after I finished the DTA2 draft I gave my brain a couple of days of rest. Kind of a way to oil the gears.

Yesterday I opened up a partially outlined screenplay. The SCREECH from my brain when I tried to read what I had written so far was horrendous. It was so loud it scared my eyes, and they refused to even take a peek.

But this morning was different. Overnight oil had dripped onto the cogs and everything slid into place. My brain had shifted gears.

Time to pump up those mind muscles!

A different kind of book talk

      No Comments on A different kind of book talk

I finished the first draft of my 6th novel (code name: DTA2) yesterday. It was quite a struggle. I’ve never had a book fight me like this one did.

It was giving me such a hard time that I finally had to sit the book down and have a long talk. It was enlightening, once we got the pleasantries out of the way.

Me: What do you mean, you’re not going to let me finish! I have to finish!
Book: No you don’t. You’ll never finish. You’ll just push me aside, like you always do.
Me: Push you aside? What are you talking about? I’ve never-
Book: Look at me. You started me in first person, then switched to third.
Me: Well, I thought you’d work better-
Book: You left me this way!
Me: Yes, but-
Book: Don’t ‘yes, but’ me! I’m a mess because of you. Look how lopsided I am!
Me: Just until I write the ending-
Book: Which you never will.
Me: Of course I will. I-
Book: Don’t kid yourself. Until I’m fixed, until I can hold my head tall and not tilt to the side, there will be no ending. And that’s final. I’m not going to be ‘one of those’ books who goes around half undone. Do it right, or don’t do it at all.
Me: But I promise! As soon as-
Book: You’ll get caught up in another project. I know you. Fix me now or leave me alone forever.
Me: But-

That’s when I found myself talking to a blank page.

So I caved. I had to, the book was right. I would want to set it aside as soon as I wrote the ending.

I spent three solid days converting the first 80 pages of the book from first person to third. As soon as that was done, the book moved out of my way and let me write that ending.

I hate it when my book is right and I’m wrong.

Clouds

      No Comments on Clouds

Yesterday was one of those days.

No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t get into writing, and when I took the dog for a walk it was cold and wet and the clouds were cluttering the sky so much it was impossible for even a single ray of sun to break through.

After the walk all I wanted to do was take a nap.

Today has been so different! I woke with an overwhelming compulsion to write, so write I did. When I came up for air to I take the dog for a walk I was rewarded by a glorious sun warming a perfectly blue sky.

Which makes me wonder.

Was yesterday as gloomy and cloudy as I remember? Was that why I couldn’t write?

Or do I remember it gloomy and cloudy because I couldn’t write?

Does it really matter what the weather is outside?

Or do I see clouds when my head is cloudy, and sun only when it’s clear?