Memory

She has awakened memory,

moments often burried out of haste,

out of regret and remorse.

Awakened, it shuffles through the mirrors

of my ever changing gazes

always outside looking in.

There is no shade, no blind

against it,

no amount of forgiveness or tolerance

gives it light for it is always the same,

a dark time,

a strong time when depths had been plumbed

and the inner light revealed.

Hopefully soon

I will forget again when I no longer

see her face in the sun.

So, life got in the way of writing. Life just gets in the way. But I'm happy to say that the Writing Project has not been entirely abandoned and that intuitive writing still works quite well for me. As for this blog spot thing, well, I found Facebook and have been using that to express and communicate things of import, or of little note. Just talkin' and soon back to writin'.

The dangers of intuitive writing. . .and benefits

So, I'm banging my head against the creative tree. I've begun work on book three of the Writing Project and came up against a forest of blockades. First, I've incurred so many narrative debts in books one and two that I now have to start paying on them with, not only explanations, but also with the introduction and development of new characters. This is the part of intuitive writing that sucks for me. The reason is that I now have to pull away from the characters and scenarios that I've come to love and enter the psyche of others who I never took the time to really know except in passing. This, secondly, means getting into a totally different head space and tapping into personalities that are, as of yet, not quite as attractive to me.

But this is not all bad. By now being somewhat disciplined enough to force my pencil across the pages on a daily basis, my mind is also forced into thickly wooded spaces not yet explored and new things are just now beginning to sprout up and become interesting. And it's that which makes intuitive writing so fun for me as well. The unexpected happens and, while though being unexpected, such scenarios end up actually fitting into the grand scheme of things and making the whole story believable and, I hope, gripping.

So book three may be complete by the fourth month of next year, if not sooner. Knock on wood.

The Silver Screen

When this movie had first come out, I heard that it got bad reviews and those I'd spoken to all said that the movie sucked.

Well, I went to the pawn shop today after meeting a friend for coffee to pick up a couple movies, a habit I acquired since pawn shops sell them cheep. I got the "Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull" and the "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow". I absolutely love the latter movie.

How on Earth did it get bad reviews? Are we so used to "realism" in cinema that we have forgotten how to let our imaginations fly free?

This movie wasn't at all about realism per say. It was about imagination that is rarely found these days in, not only movies, but in all of the art forms that make to the stage or big screen. It didn't try to be real and that is what makes it so good in the first place. Also, the story behind it was actually quite engaging. Cheesey, you say? But that's what made it so great. It was cheese done very, very well and it worked, and it would have received better reviews if people hadn't expected "realism".

Why can't we have more movies like Sky Captain that are fun, carefree and lively?

Brain Explosions

So, this solar flare pretty much depicts how my brain feels when the characters of the Writing Project take a unanimous vote, (without inviting me), to turn the project into a five-book series. It was arduous enough with four, but now five!?!?!? Gods above and below! Maybe I will become a serial killer if only to save my brain from such surprises.

Not really. I actually did suspect that this would happen when some of the important characters began their growth spurts on the late end. And this is to be expected when writing intuitively and allowing the characters to find their own ways rather than try to control them.

So, for those of you who may be curious as to what the books will be titled, here goes: Illusion, Presence of Mind, Sanctuary, Communion, Release. All under the series title, False Faces. Also, if any of you are wondering why those titles for a, (loosely defined), SciFi story, then think upon the Eastern forms of spiritual philosophy. Not all is as it seems and what seems to be all is, in fact, nothing while holding within everything.

How very Zen.

Character Assassination

Allow me to introduce myself.

I am a serial killer. There. It's out. It's told and announced that I am a killer.

But who are my victims? What is my Modus Operandi?

Both can be answered simply enough. Yet, my Ego demands a bit more attention than that. I must tell it slowly, delicately, descriptively and, most importantly, gently. There are those among you who may faint at what I will disclose.

Or not.

Let us see, shall we?

First of all, let's look at my motivation. Why am I driven to kill? What is it within me that must hunt, trap and eliminate those who catch my eye?

Well, I gave you the first clue. My Ego.

My Ego is such that it must never take second place. Its need to be first and foremost is paramount. There is no room for allowing anyone else to take the light. I am the one who must shine. My ideas are the important ones, not the ideas of others! Their lives and growth must never deviate from what I have planned for them! Never! I am the one in control! Not they!!!

I believe I have just given you the second clue as to who my victims are.

Characters. Entities within the Writing Project who dare think they are autonomous beings who have lives of their own and may go where they will without permission or even notification. Just who in the Pit do they think they are? It is my story! Not theirs! Mine!!!

I am a task-master and must not be disobeyed. So I kill.

One character had the audacity to be the nexus of a spiritual caste who possesses an important thing. She just popped up without even a hello in one, solitary chapter and acted as if she was really that important. As if it was all about her and no one else!

It made me angry. She thus died in the same chapter. Her brains were sucked out.

Another character would not stop whining about how much she was being left out of the political loop. She made me sick to my stomach with her pathetic ideas of a coup. She hung herself at my instigation.

Another one was, quite simply, ugly. Loud, demanding and very ugly. She got an arrow in the head.

Liking that particular image of an arrow in the head, due to my archery practice as well, another character went by that means. He was stupid. And ugly. And served no real purpose beyond carrying the conversations of the moment. Therefore, he had his soul sent elsewhere.

Maybe another writer will find him?

I doubt it. He isn't worth the trouble.

And a great trouble it is to work upon the Writing Project. All these characters demanding a slice of the pie, the lime light, the chance to actually live and do! How can I function in such a communal piece of work?!

I must kill. It is inevitable. Unavoidable. It must be done.

And now here is the dilemma. If I kill them all, there would be no Writing Project. There would be no entertainment and pleasant distractions to keep me sane. I would, in short, die.