That Moment

When the florescent bulb finally buzzes to life above your head. It took forever and no matter how many times you tried… it just wouldn’t light.You thought you’d tried every connection… when at last…

And then you can’t tear yourself away.

Trapped at the keyboard for hours. Ideas pouring out of your head.

I knew I was trying to cram too much into one book, or even two. It took the focus off of the main characters. You’re not supposed to have just a story with people in it, your characters are supposed to carry the story, and I lost track of my characters. Of my original idea.

I’ve broken everything down into a short story series. Fifteen novellas in total which will revolve around a group of youthful supernatural enthusiasts. They’re going to inherit the world anyway, they might as well step up when it comes time to save it – right?

I have the two over-arching plots in place and the chapters outlined for six of the books. I even had to go ahead and throw in one of the scenes I’d been thinking about previously. But now it’s late… and I have work in the morning… And currently – still a job to go to in the morning. I won’t complain about that. Fingers crossed for a easy enough day to spare my mental facilities for the evening.


The strangest things

The sound of hooves surrounded Trevor as he ran. The trees in the dense forest made the sound echo so much that he couldn’t tell how many of the bandits were on his tail. They could have been respectable men chasing a trespasser on private land or he could have found himself in a group hunt for foxes. The truth is Trev had no idea where he was, or even how he got there. One moment he was walking casually through Central Park in the morning with his girlfriend and the next moment he was stumbling over cobbles and tree roots.

The men on horseback caught sight of him and gave chase immediately. He noted before turning that their clothes were cut closer to the eighteenth century rather than the twenty-first.

Trev tripped over one of the roots and was sent sprawling…

Through a stack of paper towels from beneath the storage rack in what appeared to be a Wal-Mart. He caught himself before slamming face first into the shelf ahead of him and looked around. The sound of horses had vanished. A nondescript couple stood at the other end of the aisle and met his confused gaze. He bolted from the aisle, leaping over three jumbo packs of paper towels.

“You’re not even going to clean up your mess? Jackass!” the woman yelled after him.

Since all Wal-Marts looked the same, he ran through the store in utter confusion to the front where the location was posted.

He stared dumbly at the words on the plaque for a moment trying to comprehend how he was teleported to some place called Seffner, Florida. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but it still showed date as September eleventh, two thousand one. He waved down the greeter as he shuffled toward the door.

“Ma’am, what is the date?” The older woman gave him a funny look.

“September eleventh,” she told him. Trevor let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “Two thousand sixteen,” she finished.

Trev froze and stared gape mouthed at the lady.

“Are you alright?” she asked. He nodded mechanically and forced his feet into motion.

“Yeah… sure thing.”

Sometimes we get inspiration from places we don’t expect. Such as walking through Wal-Mart and having some young punk burst out from under the racking at the end of the aisle. While I know he was most likely just hiding from friends, the look of shear confusion on his face sent my imagination into overdrive.

Something intervened so that Trevor and his girlfriend would stay away from Vesey and West Side Highway that day. The question becomes why?

Oh, so I’ve been listening to conspiracy theory podcasts. Mainly just so I can get a laugh. Most of what’s said makes me giggle. Probably more so than my inner paranoia nods enthusiastically with. Hopefully more than… Maybe equally as…. whatever – I’m not paranoid or crazy. Weird and eccentric – sure.

3…2…1… Jump

She took a deep breath, absently tugging at the straps that secured her to the rigging. The wind was steady and cool at the top of the mountain as it ruffled the few stray hairs that had fallen loose from her braid before going up under the helmet. She looked out over the valley, the nearest mountain peak was miles away.
She took another deep breath as her coach have her a thumbs up. She smiled, returning the gesture before reaching out and gripping the bar.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” she told herself, swallowing hard. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. Her coach held up a hand with three fingers, and she watched as he quickly counted down.

She ran, a very short run, off the edge of the cliff. Her heart stopped and was left behind as gravity claimed the rest of her body and the rigging she was attached to.

Thankfully, she remembered to push.

The nose of the glider dove for the longest second she’d ever experienced. It quickly leveled out and she watched the ground pass below her as the hang glider did exactly what it was designed to do, soar.

She had to remember to breathe, it did not come naturally as the wind whipped past her face. The ground sped by below her as she flew.
I’m flying
She thought in quick succession, smile beaming on her face. The rolling mountains were blue in the horizon, and appeared to roll like calm waves as she rushed past them. She’d spent her entire life dreaming of this moment. Her heart almost burst from the joy and exhilaration it was filled with.

I forgot a title… how unlike me :(

Gasparilla-when every idiot in tampa dresses like a pirate to go drink and watch a parade. And I’ll be missing it this year. I have other things to do, like take my mom to dialysis and visit with some friends that are getting ready to become gypsies.

I kind of envy them. If my life had been different, I could see my life as a gypsy. Traveling from place to place, writing where inspiration struck me. Maybe even do random short stories for people. Ah… Who am I kidding? I’d be living in a small house in Asheville.

Anyway. I swear I had something to write this morning, but it has since escaped my brain. That’s rather frustrating. I can think up and imagine whole worlds and stories… But can’t remember a blog topic from a few hours ago.

So here, have a picture of my latest project.

Flat of veggie seedlings

Flat of veggie seedlings

Hooray for seedlings! I always start mine in baggies so I can see their progress. That way I know if i’m working with duds. I just moved them to the flats Thursday night.

We have cucumbers, broccoli, kale, butternut squash, roma tomatoes. Once they’re big enough, they’ll be going into my containers for growing. I even started a calendar this time so I cam keep them pruned and fertilized.

I have a few other baggies started, but the seeds are old, I dont think they’re going to take.

Gah! These ridiculous muscle twitches! So my eye is twitching, my tricep is twitching. Thankfully the muscles in my chest aren’t today. Yep… Definitely saving up for a massage.

Gun control

I’m sitting in an empty classroom, too early for a Sunday morning. It won’t be empty for long, it’s to get my ccw. And of close wouldn’t you know, I forgot my gun at home. It would be just my luck. A lot of people clamor about gun control and how people shouldn’t have them. The only gun control I want, is the ability to shoot someone breaking violently into my house with no legal ramifications.

I day dream a lot… A lot. So of close with getting my ccw, and gasparilla around the corner-one popped into my head. –

I’m at the day parade. We’re where we always are, just under the bridge by the hospital. We’ve walked there from Davis Island where we’d just thrown water balloons at the ships in the flotilla. Ethan is on our friends shoulders, his girlfriend is there, another couple friends and of course my boyfriend and I. I happen to notice a guy there wearing a trench coat. Well it’s January, but like most January weekends in FL, it’s like 80°. I didn’t think anything of it course. A pair of cops stood at the stairs behind us, hundreds of people around us.

When just as one of the matching bands (okay, probably the only matching band) passes under the bridge, this man in the coat pulls out a large automatic rifle of some sort with a flourish. I stood to the back of the group, I’d been on the phone-or tried to be. He pulls the rifle up to his chest and takes aim, at a group of people by the edge of the crowd. Only the people close by have noticed because of the noise, the same noise that kept their cries from being heard. My hand is already on the little 9mm taurus I’ve varied with me that day. He’s fired shots by the time I’ve brought it up to bear. Everyone is now panicking as his gun sweeps toward the mass of people to the right, toward my son and friends, and neighbors and strangers. One shot and he’s down, his shooting spree stopped. The two cops are only now drawing their own weapons having located the source. I’m sliding my own weapon back into it’s holster at the back of my jeans as I start barking out orders to my friends to take care of the shooter and get Tampa general on the phone as I grab my back pack.

My son is on his feet and suddenly clinging to me. I ask him to climb on my back at the moment as I run over to the fallen and panicking people into which the shots had been fired. My back pack was well stocked with first aid. We’d just spent the morning on barnacle covered rocks, I came prepared with 4×4’s and bandages… And because of C.E.R.T. I had triage training. There were six people hit. Two were grazed, and I handed them bandages, directing them to the hospital. One was a gut shot and I had a friend adolly pressure. One to the chest, and I was quite certain was gone. I instructed them to do cpr just in case. Another had two shots, one in the arm with no exit and a leg shot straight through. Compress and start still to keep bleeding limited. The last had a shot to the head, and the lucky bastard was still walking and talking, and of close terrified. I stopped then as I saw paramedics running across the road with stretchers and wheel chairs.

I pulled Ethan around and held him right as the police made their way over to me. I saw people with cell phones, recording it all. I offered the officers my ccw and explained no, I had never been a cop, or in the military… I just knew my son would be in the line of fire in a matter moments and just acted.

–  This is how my imagination works… Whole vivid scenes in cinema quality detail. This is why I enjoy writing, to share what I see with others. Gun control, is knowing how to use a weapon to protect yourself. C.E.R.T. For anyone that’s interested is a wonderful free training. Community Emergency Response Training. I’m a member of the greater Tampa cert, and while I’m not active, the training was invaluable. I highly recommend it.