We need to tweak the lager recipe, the stout ones we might not be able to sell before eating all of.
We start a new adventure tonight. I shall be making cookies…. Okay, that in and of itself is not an adventure. I make cookies all the time, or used to. No, our venture tonight is to make cookies to sell and deliver. Part time, in the evenings to make a little extra money. We shall see how it goes as far as gas and supplies and such. A bit of free advertising around campus and town. If nothing else, it will be fun. I’ll post pictures tonight of our first batches.
We meet Tarrius as a thirty something man who is a genius when it comes to computers and programming. He’s decent with people, equally decent with a sidearm. You discover in the very beginning that he is the love interest of one of our primary protagonists. So how do I, as a writer get you to fall in love with Tarrius. It isn’t just making him a smart-ass, or good looking; there needs to be more substance than that. He has to have a background, he has to become a person, not just a name on paper.
Tarrius’s father, Casey, was a factory worker. He assembled those little parts that go into pneumatic pumps for chairs and items his entire life. He met Yoki, Tarrius’s mother, when she was very young. He was already in his thirties. Yoki was a hippie, for lack of better terms. She didn’t hold down a job because she disliked working for “big brother” and found peace in a nomadic lifestyle. She was spiritual and centered, and Casey fell head over heals for her. They married and shortly after came Tarrius. They lived in utopia for another seven years until Cameron was born, Tarrius’s baby brother. That’s when things changed. Casey started coming home late, often smelling of alcohol. He became vocal and abusive until one day, he just didn’t come home.
Despite his growing problems, the family was devastated at his loss. There was no body or sign of death, so there were no benefits awarded to them. Yoki had to take the responsibility that she’d put off in her youth and get two, full time jobs to get everything paid off. Casey had put them in quite a bit of debt before his disappearance. Tarrius had already been accepted into honors programs and gifted programs, which he suddenly had to decline so that he could help take care of Cameron while Yoki worked. Tarrius never complained, though Cameron grew to be rather rebellious. He didn’t like his older brother telling him what to do.
Tarrius was able to graduate, but just barely because of the time he’d missed each year. He was still a prodigy when it came to computers, and started using his skills underhandedly to help make money. He secured tech position with a computer and systems repair company to appear legitimate. Camron joined the military immediately upon graduation. He’d grown out of his rebellious nature after being away for a couple of years. Tarrius was able to strike up a friendship with his brother at that point.
He has history and a story to tell. He can flaunt his absent father as an excuse, and sing praises about his strong mother. And this is the same sort of process that every character should have. You don’t just need a name to fill in a space, you need a person. Why is that person there that day? Even Briona, the first minor character that appears in Forgotten Guardian has a bit of history. There’s a reason why she started forging documents. Every face needs a story.
What an afternoon. So we lounged around for a while. It was a warm Sunday and I just couldn’t get motivated. I finally decided however that I at LEAST need to get the Holiday stuff down. So I get up and get moving. Luckily I hadn’t put very much out so that process didn’t take long. I opened up the garage, looked inside and promptly closed it. Too much work.
Well as I was coming inside, Terry came out and popped the garage. Having someone to work with makes things go a lot quicker. So we buckle down and work on the garage. All 3 beds are tied up in the corner. I would get rid of them, but beds are just so expensive, and I’d hate to be without one if we end up needing it.
Shelves moved around, floors swept, walls sprayed down with Microban – looks like we’re good. I’m filthy, standing in the kitchen wondering what in the blazes to do for food. I’d had a couple pieces of bacon. So I decide to get some recipes together and put my crock pot to the test this week. I ran up to the store and gathered my supplies.
I have 8 meals in the freezer. All I have to do is pull one out, stick it in the crock pot in the morning and eat that evening. Prep was amazingly simple. It only took me 2 hours to get them all ready. I’ll post my reviews of each of the recipes as I try them out. I also took another hour to set up breakfasts and lunches for us for the whole week. Yeah, industrious right? It won’t last. I can dream, but I know me. Maybe a couple weeks. Although… if all it takes to for dinner, breakfast and lunch is a couple hours one weekend and then I have free time in the afternoon… I might get spoiled. Maybe this could work.
We’re trying to go as unprocessed as possible. Instead of cutting things out though, we’re adding things. So when we have a bunch of veggies and herbs, there’s not much room for the crappy stuff. Once eating healthy is down, and I have all this extra time in the afternoon… I’ll be able to work more on my books and start getting some exercise under my belt.
So I had this wild dream last night. Details escape me (they always do), but the overall story? I think I might use. It’s not all that dissimilar to my young reader book that I’m working on… but I think it might be different enough that I could run with it. I also finally got smacked in the face with a decent plot for the kid’s book that I’ve been dying to write. The problem is, I over narrate. This kid’s book would end up huge! It’ll be a practice of keeping it simple.
Tomorrow afternoon… I need to go through the tubs of my mother’s needlepoint work. I told my aunt that I’d send her a few of the packets if any of them looked complete. She’s getting ready to go through hip surgery and needs something to work on while she recoups.
Fair warning world… rotten coconuts are one of the worst smelling objects in the world. And you don’t know they’re rotten until you break/drill into them.
We went to go see The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. It made me feel a lot better about myself. I used to be as bad as Walter; classes were often difficult because of my zoning out in such a way. It wasn’t that I had ADD… just an extremely active imagination. Where Walter was able to control his by actually living, I’ve brought mine under control by writing.
Currently my son is standing over my shoulder as he holds one of our ferrets. The puppy… who is not much of a puppy anymore, is aching all over chew on the mustelidae. Janson, our ferret, could have cared less about this as he relaxed comfortably in my boy’s arms. I have too many things out to let the bouncy bundles of fur loose in the house tonight. I’m still in the transition of getting Christmas put away and finding a home for everything from mom’s room.
I think I’m going to go rest my brain for a few. I want to write, but I can barely keep my eyes open. I’d rather try and get up early and work some in the morning. No, I’m not going to bed at 7:30… I don’t think… I haven’t decided.