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Sitting In My Chair

Yes, I'm supposed to be writing and generating words this month...proto stories, if nothing else. Scads of them. I've finished the nonfiction work, with no more on the horizon and tax season a couple of months away still. It's been a good year for money, a bad year for generating fiction. Hence, my focus this month.

So why am I blogging, you ask? Good question.

Lots of very thought-provoking posts out there today, most notably one at julieandrews about gender that links to an article about women, writing and ambition. I had tried to grab that article when it showed up in my BU digest this morning, courtesy of mi amiga mount_oregano, a writer I'm proud to call "friend" for 12 years, assuming she'll let me make that claim. But it's the questions and comments on gender and writing posed by Julie that sparked some writing thoughts this morning. So go read them.

And now, for my own thought-provoking contributions...

It must be creative writing time, because I'm having lucid dreams left and right. I meant to post on the 31st, but didn't get the time with all the excitement of being a Silver Mist Fairy around here. Not to mention being the Miller's Daughter in Rumpelstiltskin BEFORE she spins straw into gold for the fairy tale parade at school. A very tall order and I was given only a few hours' notice to pull the look together with her. So I pinned all these scaps of cloth to an old sundress so she could dress in rags, so to speak. And then spent an hour explaining what a miller is. Because as a writer and an actress, I think context is essential. That and a small bag of white flour.

So the dream on the 31st, which is fading, had one highlight that stays with me. mindseas getting up close to me, face to face, showing me her forehead and asking me if her brain was still frizzled. Knowing her, it might well be. I remember her forehead as smooth and clear-skinned, beautiful in its way.

Then there was the dream where I yelled at my sister for never answering any emails I send her.

This morning, there was the dream that the chickens were never put to bed last night (which happened a few days back). They were out and loose outside the run. A crowd was trying to herd a dozen scraggly and damaged chickens back into the run and not having much luck at it, running here and there. Traffic had apparently stopped as people got out to help (which is interesting as we don't live on a road). And not only were my chickens being attacked by several fox, they were also being attacked by escaped mountain lions and cheetahs. I watched a mountain lion gulp one down whole. One of the less damaged ones, too. And there was a problem that there were only a dozen, because that meant a third of the chickens were missing, presumably eaten or killed. The ones that were left looked much like that famous chicken that had its head cut off and lived. (It's my dream.)

Meanwhile, on the home front, The Dude has had to work extra hours lately, as if he didn't do that already. And we spent Saturday just chilling, not doing anything. Like forgetting that E had an art class, which she forgot as well. And on Sunday he went to the office for half the day, something that isn't supposed to happen because we live so far away from his work that it's an hour's drive each way. But all beside my point. (You can tell I'm in draft mode in my writing because this post is all over the place and I'm not editing the feed from my brain.) I sent him off on Sunday with a meteorology question and he emailed me the answer, which I've posted on my filing cabinet for reference.

And I'm not sharing it until I put it in print somewhere.

Because, as he himself said, it's not been done before and it's a very cool thing on many levels. So I'm going to do it. Just not sure in which story yet or how many times, because it's versatile. Everyone knows about it, pretty much, but no one writes it into their stories. Living in a more rural setting, I've become more sensitized to weather phenomena.

Like seeing one of two sun dogs the other afternoon. (One was hidden by trees, both were on the top of the mountain range. And yes, there would have been two of them.)

Like I haven't stopped to blog how in the fall, just after the sun goes down on a super-clear day after a front when there aren't any clouds, the sky is yellow and yellow-green. Enough to hurt my eyes looking at it. And I'm driving and watching the black branches against that sky and I'm in love with the fading light.

Whatever. Random, shot-gun post.
Frog Out


( 20 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 3rd, 2008 05:43 pm (UTC)
I'm honored to have figured in one of your dreams, even if my brain was frizzled!
Nov. 3rd, 2008 05:46 pm (UTC)
It wasn't clear that "frizzled" was a bad thing, you just wanted me to check, as if I could see right through your forehead.
Nov. 3rd, 2008 06:04 pm (UTC)
Obviously an attempt at mindlink. Maybe it was "frizzled" like those chickens with the funny feathers.
Nov. 3rd, 2008 05:52 pm (UTC)
Huh. I had a sort of nasty dream in which my mother was more evil than usual, and had this awful, frightening tone of voice. And a couple of cats (I'd picked up another, a dark grey one) had gotten in her room and she was going to do something awful to them if I didn't make them behave. And then there was something about my parents taking me away and abandoning me somewhere and my grandparents found me and took me back. And there was something about a clutch of 20+ flamingo eggs and they were all hatching and I was trying to get a good picture. Then my mother stole the hatching eggs in a bucket, and then there was a second bucket that she gave me that had the same number of eggs but the hatchlings were all dead.

Not a very nice dream, that. Though at least my grandparents recognized my mother was being evil. My dad did, but he didn't do anything. Arrgggh.

Oh, and I keep looking for fall around here. Doesn't really exist. So thanks for sharing yours with me. :>)
Nov. 3rd, 2008 05:56 pm (UTC)
Just so long as you realize that my posts aren't f-locked. Just sayin'. But wow. Cool dream, especially the flamingo part. Very stressful. You must be writing, too!
Nov. 3rd, 2008 06:07 pm (UTC)
Yep, writing, though not at home. I just posted. You'll laugh.
Nov. 4th, 2008 12:26 am (UTC)
What? You don't like coffee???? And you objected to painters tapping on the window and meowing at Fitz? Sheesh.
Nov. 3rd, 2008 06:33 pm (UTC)
Sound like you're ready to let loose with something, Oz. Go for it!
Nov. 4th, 2008 12:27 am (UTC)
totally going for it and sort of having fun. Only sort of because my edit brain keeps asking me what the hell I'm doing. And I don't want it to. I want it to go away while I play with some nutty sf and fantasy ideas for a while. That's how I come up with mice kings and wendys. and now I've got this water thing going, and this weather thing. babble, babble, babble.
Nov. 4th, 2008 12:29 am (UTC)
LOL. That's what I do when I write fanfic. I getting revved up to write one with two different versions of a flashback embedded in parts of a story with two different MCs. I'd never do that in a novel I meant to sell!
Nov. 3rd, 2008 08:19 pm (UTC)
I am proud to be your friend and delighted to have you as a friend of mine.

As for dreams, I have discovered over the past few years that when I am happy, or at least not anxious about something, I dream that I am traveling. Sometimes I'm with people I know, sometimes I'm with strangers, sometimes I go somewhere familiar, sometimes it's a totally imaginary place, and anything can happen -- but it's always travel.

Weird. I don't know what it means. But last night I had gone to visit this sort of lovely garden island with a nice group of friends (though no one from real life) and we hiked around, then played Alice-in-Wonderland-style croquet... Very happy.
Nov. 4th, 2008 12:28 am (UTC)
I really love that imagery. Sounds to me like you had a very hopeful dream. And knowing how you feel about plants, the "garden" aspect of it seems to indicate it was special.

Nov. 4th, 2008 10:19 am (UTC)
Last night I dreamed I had to make a desperate journey to save a little boy's tiny pet goldfish from certain death at the hands of evil-doers. I succeeded, and experienced the intense joy of seeing the lovely little fish restored to safety in its tank. What would a psychoanalyst would make of all this? I dunno, I'm just a fiction writer. I wrote a story in my sleep, maybe not my best one, but it had a happy ending.

I hope your chickens were safe last night from non-local wild animals.
Nov. 4th, 2008 10:42 am (UTC)
I'm beginning to suspect you're having dreams about the election today and your personal hopes for the outcome.

The Economist came out and endorsed Obama, giving some pretty strong international reasons for electing him. Shocker.
Nov. 5th, 2008 08:08 pm (UTC)
Nothing could be better than singing "America the Beautiful" far away from home two hours before sunrise on a day when an unlikely candidate in the unlikely story of America proves that there has never been anything false about hope.

And I didn't dream this.
Nov. 3rd, 2008 08:29 pm (UTC)
I have been wondering 'where' you were lately. It's great to read this post, and I hope you'll have more time for creative work soon.
Nov. 4th, 2008 12:33 am (UTC)
the funny thing is, it does feel as if some part of me is back after a long absence. I've spent 11 months on nonfiction with deadlines and now all these crazy ideas and images just want to come out and play. The money is nice, but fiction is my love, my vocation.

Of course, massaging the ideas into a cohesive story is a different issue. But I won't think about that today. I'll think about that in December.
Nov. 3rd, 2008 11:50 pm (UTC)
And I'm driving and watching the black branches against that sky and I'm in love with the fading light

Mmmm. Nice sentence.
Nov. 4th, 2008 12:29 am (UTC)
why thank you kindly! And I'll just bet that Canada gets its share of sunsets like that, too.

Big hug. Miss you.
Nov. 4th, 2008 12:36 am (UTC)
Miss you too Ms Oz!!
( 20 comments — Leave a comment )