The other morning, I had a nightmare. It was one of those Armageddon dreams. In it, I was in a city with a lot of big buildings, but they were old and run down. There were people everywhere, but no one I actually know. Dreamstrangers. At one point, I (and many others out in the…
In this case, the leader is the story, and I’m just clicking at the keyboard, following it wherever it goes. I have no idea where it’s going to end up. Heck, it might end up in the trash folder.
But, do you know what? I’m having fun.
When we get through this (if we get through this), the economy will come back. The little shops and business will come back. The freedom to congregate will come back. The ability to go into Walmart without wearing a mask will come back. The jobs, and the weddings, and the funerals, and the picnics, and the team sports will come back.
The dead won’t come back.
Cause and Effect. It’s really not hard to understand.
Just as I have no idea if this book will turn out even remotely acceptable. If it doesn’t, that’s okay. It’s being written because I have to write it. It is like a purge, getting the bottled up energy out of my system, while I let the story have its way. Will I finish it? Will it take me to a place where it shows me a conclusion? Will I get halfway through, and find that it has abandoned me along a roadside somewhere, with no way to continue the journey?
I guess I’ll find out.
We all need a big hug right now, Mom, but we’re not allowed to hug each other.
I guess we have to rely on hugs from Heaven.
I could use one right about now.
Many years ago (before there was an Internet), I began a book. Life happened, as it so often does, and I never got past the first three chapters. The book was begun in good old Word Perfect for DOS (if you’re old enough to remember DOS, congratulations; you’re a survivor), and at some point converted…