Day 136: Nothing In Particular

I considered rolling another day with the Styx theme, but decided against it in favor of a bit of rambling instead. The point of this post will be to simply keep my fingers moving around the keyboard. and the thoughts flowing from my head. I believe that this is what is referred to as free writing. As I recall from having done this on paper in high school it results in crap. I suspect it was my creative writing teacher’s way of filling out an hour when he didn’t have enough material otherwise.

I do this sort of thing for the girls when they can’t sleep. I have two versions: Talk About My Day and Talk About the Stuff in My Room. Talking about my day is mostly geared toward getting the girls to wind down and to think about the sequence of events during the day. The point of talking about the stuff in their room is for them to listen to my hopefully soothing voice as they become acquainted with the items in their room.

Of course they are familiar with these items in their regular rooms, but we found on traveling from our home in the mountains to the grandparents that it made sleeping easier if we talked them through their new nightly surroundings for the week. The practice stems from my childhood fear and then annoyance of waking up in a strange place with no bearings. Being able to anchor the bookshelf next to the door and the dresser across from the window before you nod off has a calming effect when you wake up halfway and don’t immediately recognize where you are.

I like to think I am a baby whisperer, but I’m not. If they don’t respond in the first round or two I start wanted to pop their heads off.

I do love that they are growing more sophisticated everyday. Asking questions and formulating complex sentences. Thinking ahead tot he future. Wondering a little about the past. One’s brain is a steel trap of details. When we lose stuff or can’t find something we ask her. The other one can dredge up an event from months ago like it just happened and she still has the Band-Aid to prove it. It’s a wonder they don’t use more four letter words.

Word count: 402

Day 133: Three Plots for My Redemption

I am writing in the morning for the first time in several weeks. Even if the content sucks, I am already ten time happier about this that I was with last night’s efforts.

I’ve discovered it’s hard for me to not write in the first person. This surprises me. I don’t read much first person work–as far as I recall. Mary Stewart’s Arthurian trilogy comes to mind, but nothing else. Maybe it’s easier since I don’t have to think up names for characters and I can hide in ‘my’ head with thoughts rather than coming up with a plot.

Ha! There’s me circling back to my plot avoidance strategies. For a guy that so readily identifies his problem, I’m sure sucktastic at tackling it. Plotophobia. Let’s try my little plot exercise again this morning:

A green faerie, ousted from court, seeks the respect and love of the newest regent in order to return to the life she once had. While eavesdropping she discovers an ancient tome of power and that the new regent isn’t who he seems to be. In order to save her country, she must carry the book to where it may be safely opened or destroy it before the regent gets it back.

Eesh that sounds like some ‘generator’ tool was involved. Let’s try another…

A mother whose prescience has abandoned her since her teens suddenly starts seeing her own daughter’s future. It’s not good. Without revealing her curse, the mother’s actions come off as meddling and only serve to push her college-bound daughter further away.

I’ll stop with number three for today since it’s the top of the hour…

Remarkably after having reported his digital camera stolen a man’s camera is recovered by the police. The police find photographs of a crime on the camera. Somehow the context point to the owner’s involvement rather than the thief’s. The owner’s attempts to exonerate himself make him look more guilty. Pushed to the limit by the legal system he goes underground to hunt for the criminal instead. If he can’t have justice, he’ll settle for revenge.

There is a legal-crime thriller I couldn’t hope to know enough to write.

Word count: 373

Day 116: Navel Gazing Cycles to a Peak

Let’s just call this what it is.  It’s low spot.  If you’ve joined us right in the middle then I’ll politely request you subscribe and give 1000 Days till after the first of the year to get yanked out of your feed reader for bad behavior.  If you’ve been here all along then you know it’s been better so it will likely get better again.

Maybe this season is a little too much for me to expect to really be at my writing best and I should give over to the occasional bout of lame.

You’ve heard me say it in posts before.  It’s the time.  I don’t make it.  Worse I donate it to less worthy causes like work and making breakfast for the kids.  Or warm-up surfing.

I’m also developing an itchy little Halo3 part of my brain that needs attention.  I’ve never let it scratch writing time, but I give it other times that push out writing time.  The demons of consumption compel me more effectively than the angels of creation.

On the subject of itches there’s a whole masturbatory quality to these 1000 days that I am not always able to look past.  If only a quarter of the previous hundred entries are goodish then maybe only a handful of those are worth cultivating.  When the hell am I going to have the time for that if I barely have the time for this?  So the effort in terms of ideas or seeds to be grown is throw away.  Thus far I can only quantify that I’ve written every day.  Everything else is speculation.  Speculation on subjective material anyhow.

In less than a fortnight everyone starts talking resolutions.  I suspect I ought to target 1000 Days for at least one.

Word count: 291