Archive for the ‘thoughts’ Tag
I’m totally grateful I have a job that allows me to work from home. Really. I. Am. As it is, we used a cooperative workspace pre-COVID and all of our files are in the cloud, as is our software, so we’re fluid to begin with. We’re not tied to one place or server. That makes it so easy for us to access whatever we need, create new documents and do all sorts of neat stuff. Wherever I am, I’m usually writing or researching for hours on end. All those words add up to a bunch of sentences that forge into paragraphs and before you know it, there’s a whole document just waiting to be edited by my boss.
When 9:00 am strikes, there I am at my kitchen table, checking the email and social media messages. Usually by 10:00 am I start on my assignments for the day. And when 5:00 pm hits, I’m often in the middle of something so I keep at it until I finish. By then, my eyes are incredibly bleary and dry from staring at a blue-lit screen. So when the evening rolls around, my eyes are too gorped up to write anything. Besides, my creative well’s pretty dried up then, too.
Even writing this blog presents its challenges. Sure, I’ve got plenty to say but no ambition to say it. I really, REALLY hate this whole COVID thing. It’s thrown a monkey wrench into my plans. My Twitter feed is loaded with writers who’re meeting and exceeding all sorts of goals. If I included the number of words I put down daily, I’d beat them all.
Unfortunately, only a select audience reads grant proposals, press releases, blast emails and social media posts. So far as I know, there’s no real story arcs or plot twists in letting the world know my place of employment is hosting a virtual event on Zoom, and in the accompanying press release I’ve sent off to the media to announce it. Although, there is something to be said about the nail-biting, stress-inducing grant proposal…but only after it’s been sent off to the foundation or government agency offering it.
Today’s gorgeous. So was yesterday. Thought I might sit outside and have a cup of something and maybe write some. Within a half-hour, my lungs betrayed me. Damn asthma! Damn pollen! I’m on an inhaler but it only goes so far. It also doesn’t help that the unending roar of motorcycles streaming through my town destroys my concentration, although I’m getting better at ignoring them.
Here I am, in the lower Hudson Valley, and we have so many COVID cases with its share of sorrowful deaths, yet few seem to be paying attention. I took a brief drive yesterday so that my poor car can have its engine kept in shape and I can go someplace in a protective bubble without worrying I’m going to catch anything. Thousands of people were on the road – no lie – and squeezed between all those vehicles were an equal amount of motorcycles. Then those riders hopped off and stood in groups, close, no masks. As I drove through a few towns, loads of people, also maskless, stood around and gathered, no social distancing between them, chatting away as if this was last year.
My town is one of those places that fills up with city people on the weekends and the summer, so it’s no surprise that we have our fair share of COVID cases in town. Even today, people are out in droves, chatting, walking, no social distancing. I really can’t blame people for a little freedom from their homes and worries. But seriously, folks, use a little caution!
Fed up with just about everything, I decided to risk something myself yesterday. I ordered takeout from a restaurant just across the way. I ate there often when things were normal, as they’re good, close and affordable. The last time I ordered from them was March. A day later, on my Facebook page, some well-meaning friend posted a story about how risky it was to order takeout, how one should remove the meal from the bag and cartons and the proper way to disinfect one’s home and self upon placing said meal on your own plate, and to NEVER eat from the original container. I freaked out so much after reading that I swore I’d never do that again. But eating one’s own cooking for too long causes its own level of agitation, so I threw caution to the wind and enjoyed a nice serving of meatloaf, fresh mixed vegetables (not frozen or canned) and a healthy pile of mashed potatoes with gravy. Even went so far as to order a slice of cheesecake that was amazingly delicious. I felt better instantly.
So here I sit now, writing this blog and after I publish it, will go back to my edits for my book that my agent has surely forgotten that I’ve written. My sister has helped me out a great deal trying to get my story into excellent shape. I think about returning to it often, but just can’t get into it for whatever reason. Yet the story lives on in my head, and the characters are beating me up trying to get on with their plots and storylines. I owe it to them to breathe life back into them, and maybe too, my life as a writer.
Stay safe and inspired, friends.
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One can argue that this is a great time for things dystopian. There’s a lot of discord in this world and in our country in particular. School shootings seem to happen so frequently they hardly get a notice in the news. Climate change is a reality more than a concept. Now measles is roaring back…is smallpox next? And superviruses and superbacteria threaten us all, with no cures or countermeasures in sight. Racial tensions are again on the rise, while the gig economy undermines workers’ abilities to save for the future or just be secure.
And so on…
It’s easy to picture a future without hope or purpose. I’m even going through a rough patch myself and wonder if there’s any sparkle left to dream about. Any one of those scenarios above could make great fodder for a novel. And have.
But just image if one day we all took stock of what we have and set about to make it right. Make changes that benefit all, not a precious few. Pollyanna as that sounds, one rather famous series used an evolved humankind as its background. Yes, that’d be Star Trek. In it, those who inhabit the Earth (and not necessarily humans) have eschewed wealth for equality and humanity. Sure, each episode mirrored what’s happened here on the home planet, but the outcomes often were positive, if not hopeful.
Would it even, I daresay, be an odd sort of dystopia if everything went right and nothing went wrong? Can you imagine? Sure, it’d be boring but the movie Pleasantville is based on a premise of a perfect TV world turned upside-down with the introduction of color.
I suppose it’s somehow easier to believe things’ll blow up than to bloom. There’s a certain comfort in knowing that you or me don’t have it so bad as they will in the future. Or in the past. Or on planet Zorthon. Think about it. Isn’t it cathartic to complain? A downhill slide from justice into injustice, because somehow society needs to be punished. Bombs will blow, diseases will conquer, war will end all.
Again, does it have to?
There are a few simple things we, as humans, can do to change things. They are (in no particular order):
- Don’t like who’s in office? Vote! Or better yet, run yourself. Take an interest in your town, your county, your state, your nation. Because, believe it or not, your vote matters. Ditto for…
- You don’t like it that school kids are being shot? Or our environment’s being polluted at a crazy rate? Or something else? Contact your congressman, senator, mayor, governor or even president. You might get the runaround. Attend town halls or village meetings. Speak up. Make your voice heard. And if that doesn’t work, see the above point.
- Stop wasting everything. Buy enough food that you’ll actually eat so it doesn’t turn into a dystopian event in the fridge. Use one sheet of a paper towel roll instead of two. Or better yet, use a rag and wash it out. Buy household paper that’s been sourced from recycled paper.
- Don’t litter.
- Walk instead of drive…if you can. It’s better for you in a myriad of ways. And don’t run the car. Turn it off.
- Here’s something to ponder: Toothbrushes. Count up the number of toothbrushes you use in a year. Six? Eight? More? Then count the number your family uses. Add that up. Now apply that number to everyone on your street. Or multiply that by the population of your town. Or the population of the United States (or whatever country you happen to live in. You throw all of that away and it lands in a landfill. It lasts longer than humankind. All for clean teeth. What’s the solution? While there are bamboo toothbrushes, which is a step in the right direction, we need to come up with something better.
- Ditto with needles – the injecting kind – but that’s human waste…and dangerous. But it’s not recyclable either.
- Or baby diapers. An infant goes through thousands. Add that number up by the number of births in one year. All going to the landfill…
Before you get totally depressed, all of the above can be changed. This is a nation of innovation, or was, anyway. We still can be. Let’s hand it to the upcoming generation of engineers and scientists (and anyone else who’s inspired to join in) and create/invent materials that will biodegrade and/or can be developed from renewable sources.
And maybe, our future will be that much cleaner, clearer and less dystopian.
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It’s been roughly a year since I’ve written in this blog. There’s a reason for that, actually. And it’s as vast as the Newfoundland wilderness, as pictured above.
I’ve been thrusting all my efforts into completing my book edits, rewrites, corrections, updates and such things one does to get a manuscript off to my agent. It took a lot more time than I ever thought it would. Truly.
The story is tech-heavy. Every time I thought I had something fresh and new, my take on whatever technology I included in my story seemed old and antiquated with each revision. So I wound up taking great chances on what finally ended up in there. God, I hope what I created sounds plausible and not stupid…
My agent received the manuscript two days before Christmas. Then I took a sorely-needed break. Turned my attentions elsewhere. Read two wonderful novels I should’ve read long ago: All the Birds in the Sky by Charlie Jane Anders and Walkaway by Cory Doctorow. Plus I read a series I’d been meaning to get to: Elizabeth Moon’s Vatta’s War series. So all of that kept me quite busy.
Reading after writing is like a wonderful spa visit. I immerse myself deep into another writer’s prose, drinking it in like a gulp of fresh mountain air. It’s resetting my imagination. I enjoy seeing how others put words to good use, to describe things in other ways, to invent new realities.
And after I turn that last page and finish the book, I feel a sense of regret. Of saying goodbye. Letting my new friends go and continue on with their lives without me. Because you know those characters will.
Maybe that’s why I chose to write a series. I’ve started the second book now. Figured it was a good time to do so, now that my agent has the first.
To tell you the truth, I got a little sick with my characters. I visited them so often I’m sure they got fed up with my prying into their activities daily. And just when they thought I’d leave them alone once and for all, I rewrote a scene. Or ten. Ripped out their old dialogue and inserted fresh.
Now, my characters move forward, onto new adventures. Face staggering challenges! Question their place in the order of things. Will they make it? Or will they succumb to a deadly nightmare?
Truth be told, I know how the second book in the series starts, ends and gets to the middle, but I’m fishing around for plot movement right about now. I’ve got plot holes that’ll rival black holes right now. And when I do, I take a break and visit posts from NASA, ISS, JPL and Emergency Kittens on Twitter.
But it’s my goal to continue up with this blog. It’s nice to have a diversion apart from writing my book. I missed posting it and promised myself I’d do it every week…but never did. So I will.
I hope you’ll follow along in my few adventures in writing, as well as my musings including the moon, stars and beyond.
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A great deal of what occurs in the world of science fiction involves the mind and/or brain. Strange forces, and not necessarily alien, want to control others thoughts, expressions, decision making capabilities, functions and more.
Why is that?
Well, for starters, the brain/mind is who we are. What we see. What we do. It governs our perception of the world and how those react towards us. It goes without saying that a brain controlled is a person conquered.
Mind control is like getting the keys to the kingdom. Figure out how to rob one’s senses and you have the entire population cornered.
Take, for instance, Invasion of the Body Snatchers or its modern update, The Invasion. A pod of sorts lodged itself to a human form and, long story short, assumed that person’s entire being except for its soul. Seemingly, the soul was destroyed in the process and everyone was pretty much like the women in The Stepford Wives. In that film, the women were duplicated via robot/android. Then it’s assumed everyone was bumped off and buried anonymously in a hidden grave deep in the Connecticut woods.
In A Clockwork Orange, our hero Malcolm McDowell has a rather questionable attitude when it comes to women, violence and society in general. It’s a pretty simple fix when he’s subjected to the Ludivico Technique. After that, the urge to vomit pretty much takes over when he’s starting to explore those negative tendencies. If that were me, the idea of having my eyelids pinned open would be enough to gross me out and get me to never do anything evil again.
Oh, let’s not forget the classic Jedi Mind Trick, either. It’s one way Luke Skywalker invites himself in for a visit our revolting friend Jabba the Hut. Come to think of it, just by simple virtue of being a Jedi all that is familiar to your being is a mind trick.
The mind is a mystery. We all have one, but who knows what’s in it? How many times have you said, “What are you thinking?” Haven’t you ever taken your fist and rapped it on your brain, or that idiot friend of yours and said, “Dude, are you nuts? What happened to your brain?” Yet, we still wonder what occurs during the thought process, what makes us arrive at the decisions we so nimbly or slowly do. Our influences, our impressions, our decision to eat yet another piece of food that will stuff us silly all comes from that thick grey matter residing in our skull. Is it a machine? Is it will? Is it hope and dreams?
It’s a thought worth thinking about.
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Moon, Stars and Beyond 