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 |  Daily notes and timed freewrites but mostly my blog |
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All comments are encouraged, I am interested in what others think and feel along the topics I choose to write about. Highlighted entries: [#732826] "In Memory"       ![Merit Badge in Supportive
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| Later today the mechanic will pick up my truck. I will get a ride to and from work with one of the guys who also works at the same place. I'm sure I will know more about the damages this afternoon--well, I hope to know more, at any rate. |
| Another weekend ends I'm all set for the work week--lunches are precooked and in the fridge and laundry is done. Update-01/21/14: 0640 for January 20, 2014 Today was the third anniversary of my son's death. Overall, it was a good day; in that, my mood was light. The day proved to be a bit of a challenge; however, as my truck broke down and I had to arrange for a mechanic to pick it up Tuesday morning; as well as, beg a ride from my neighbors to take me into work. I do hope it isn't anything overly expensive to fix--but that information will divulge itself later Tuesday I'm sure. |
| I gave a review earlier and while reading another story I just got suddenly sleepy--so I fav'd the story to continue reading later. To bed; to sleep; per chance to dream. Shakespeare? I must be tired.  |
| First off, I don't traditionally rely on outlining when I write. I am a spontaneous, freewriter by nature. However, with my continual slump where that spontaneity is elusive, I have used the outline format to 'force' the story out. I do this when I must meet a deadline and I have writer's block. My writer's block consists of no words flowing--rarely do I have idea lapses. I generally always know where I want my story to go and what my character(s) must do to achieve a happy or sad ending. I just don't always have the joy of having the words flow which will paint the story portrait as I envision it. So I've learned to turn to the Plotted Story outline-- Plotted Story: A Complete Definition 1) A plotted story consists of a situation that is problematic. 2) There are attempts to alleviate the situation or get rid of it, which 3) usually fail and makes the probem worse. 4)There is a crisis where all seems lost. 5) Then there is the final solution that resolves the problem and changes the situation. Step one is introduced in the Beginning of the story; The Middle of the story is about steps 2 & 3 with the beginning of step 4 at the end of the middle. The end of the story winds up step 4 and completes step 5. One could effectively outline a plotted story in five Major listings with the second and third listings being the bulk of your story. For instance: The outline: I State the Major problematic situation A Introduce main character who will be most affected by the problem 1) Introduce 1st subplot and 1st secondary character 2) Before the end of Beginning have Main Character resolve subplot with hints of how this resolution complicates the resolution of main plot. B Introduce secondary character(s) 1) with their roles concerning how they may 2) assist or 3) interfere with the Main character. C Optional to introduce the villian/antagonist toward the end of the Beginning II Setup the first and subsequent attempts of resolving the Major problematic situation--this is the Beginning of the Middle story. A Show main character's internal struggles as the result of failing to resolve the problem 1) Second subplot which interferes with main plot resolution--with {secondary characters playing their roles of help or hinder 2) Third subplot which interferes with main plot resolution--with secondary characters playing their roles of help or hinder B Main character confused or puzzeled by increasing struggle and hinderances to resolve main situation. 1) subplot four a) secondary character assisting antagonist found out and dispatched b) antagonist actions/reactions 2) subplot five a) secondary character assisting antagonist found out and dispatched b) antagonist actions/reactions III Setup the subsequent and final attempts of resolving the Major problematic situation--this is the middle and ending of the Middle story. A Continuing main character's internal struggles 1) subplot six a) secondary character assisting protagonist, but for their own agenda--either defeated by protagonist's resolution or benefiting from protagonist's resolution. b) antagonist actions/reactions 2) final barrier to the main problem is resolved at a devasting cost to the main character and a) a secondary character assisting pays for the failure b) antagonist actions/reactions IV Setup the Climax for resolving the Major problematic situation--ending of the Middle story. A Show main character's struggles as the result of failure B Show Emboldened antagonist--set up for final confrontation 1) Final subplot which interferes with main plot resolution-- 2) Cost of resolving this final subplot V Resolution of the Climax--the End story. A Show Antagonist final confrontation--antagonist can only win B Show main character's final decision and willingness to die fighting the impossible odds-- 1) Final Antagonist actions and fate 2) The final cost and reward (if any) to the protagonist 3) Show how the main situation as well as the main character have changed |
| I just dropped in to clarify the list I posted to yesterday's blog entry. The longest phase of my life--still in progress, I hope--is my life writing. Started writing with serious intention when I was 14--John-boy Walton was my role model in that I started keeping a personal journal. My writing activities have waxed and waned over the years only to come back with gusto after a long drought. The summer after graduating HS I wrote several lengthy stories, a couple I still have in a box. I stopped writing from the time I went into the USAF (age 20 until 1990, when my life crashed down around my ears--then I wrote most of the poetry I have displayed in my portfolio. Then I fell in love and writing was abandoned again. I started writing stories for an online RPG I was involved with in 2000 and discovered Stories.com in 2001--I've stalled in my writing several times since but I've never stopped completely. Overall, my writing skills have improved more in the last 10 years than all the years before, I think feedback from the 'now' WDC community is to blame for the improvements. I'd love to go on and on with this topic but it is well past my bedtime. Today is a workday and I must needs sleep. |
| That part of my life is over-- my childhood with my mother started at birth ended at the age of eight my childhood with my father started when I was eight--ended at the age of thirteen my adolescence with my father ended at the age of seventeen my pre-adulthood under the guidance of three mature women; Grandma Bessie, Midge, and Helen; started at age 17 and ended at the age of twenty my young adulthood in the military started at 20 and ended at the age of twenty-six my active role as wife (started when I was 21) and mother (began when I was 25) ended at the age of twenty-nine my active role as college student began when I was 26 and ends when I graduate at age thirty-three my role as openly-gay mother began at the age of 36 my sons left home to be on their own by the time I was 46 (empty nest) my overt (out in the open to myself and others) battle with and acceptance of my base sexuality started when I was 29 and resolved at the age of forty-nine my middle-aged journey with self acceptance and self-identity began at 49--still in progress at age fifty-nine my role as surviving parent began at age fifty-six and is still in progress. I became a grandma the first time when I was 47--I am now a grandma 6 times; all grandsons. |
| Yep, this has been a slow and inactive weekend. For me, this constitutes a normal weekend. Being Sunday, I spend my time getting ready for the work week. I cook all my meals enmass since I don't really have the time to cook my lunches and such during the week. This week I will have yogurt and beef stew (beef, potato, carrots, onion, celery) and boiled Pork and cabbage (pork, cabbage, carrot, and onion). Both one pot meals cooked slow in a crock pot. added January 12, 2014 at 9:09pm Sci-Fi distant future--War between planets--Saving cultural artifacts from destruction both on Earth and Mars--as a testament to mankind's diversity. Let China have Mars--WWV circa 2262--The reach for space is abandoned by all governments except China--When impending WW5 threatens to destroy all life on Earth, Governments dig under mountains to save their notion of which human genetics is to be saved. China is only government who plans to colonize Mars as their way to survive as the last humans in the universe. As a back-up contingency, there is a 'Chinese' population sequestered in the Tibetan Mtns. Spin-offs from "Let China have Mars"-- Book II--"Emergence from the Mountain" circa 2375--Chinese emerge from under Tibetan mountains to find a world cleansed of life-- Book III--"Return to Origins" circa 2400--Chinese return from Mars to explore a world desolated from war, to find scattered populations of human cultures who survived under their mountain refuges. Book IV--"Two Worlds to Rule" circa 2450-- The above story inspirations just popped into my head when I least expected it. Isn't that just the way the muse works most times? Well, for me anyway. Which is why I carry a notebook and pen with me most times. Book two also has spin-offs or inclusions--the other under the mountain emergences all around the world--One being the Humana under the mountain project I'd attempted to write for my 2012 WDC Nano project. |
| Just watched the Star Trek classic "The Trouble With Tribbles" Even when I know it's coming I still laugh when Kirk opens the storage container doors and all the tribbles fall over him. (What kind of mess would have occurred if all the grain in that storage unit hadn't been consumed by the tribbles as he suspected?) I still think sending all the tribbles from the Enterprise over to the Klingon ship just before it warped away was an immoral act of animal cruelty (Spock of all people thought of this solution). Sure the joke was on the Klingons, given their innate revulsion of the meek little tribble; however, because of that inherent racial revulsion the tribbles were most certainly extinguished with a thoroughly cruel efficiency. But then the captain of the Klingon vessel could honestly say, after the whole affair was finished: "No one knows the tribbles I've seen." |
| Well, I work four tens, so Thursday is my Friday. I went to bed late after work--around 8:30 AM and got up just before 6 PM.. Spent my 'morning' doing laundry and watching old movies on TV. Now I'm here to start my weekend activity on WDC. Did some reading, but nothing more, before logging off the site. |
| January 6, 2014 at 9:58am Tonight while looking through past text docs on my old computer, I found a letter I had written to my last life partner after she decided she no longer could share in my life. WOW! was I confused. Well, actually...I find that I am still confused. In nearly every other paragraph I ask her, "Why have you left?" After eleven years, I still don't understand 'what I did' or if she had ever really wanted me to share her life. I was then and am now upon looking back left with the 'feeling' she had lied about how she had ever felt about me. I form the question in several different ways but every time I ask, it amounted to the same thing. The first line of the second paragraph I write, 'I do not understand everything that has driven the wedge between us.' Then I end the paragraph with, 'Was I wrong to believe you had wanted me in your life?' The fourth paragraph I ask, 'Did I somehow convince you that you never mattered to me?' I end the paragraph with, 'Did we simply never really have a bond that would tie us together for better or worse?' In the fifth paragraph I state, 'I can believe (for a brief time) it is my fault that you are gone when I conjure up an answer that fits the state of our relationship today; but, it always comes down to the fact that these conjurations are my answers and none of them are yours.' Then in the eighth paragraph, just before the close of the letter, I write, 'I don't know why I love you, but I remember when I realized I did. I know the exact moment when my heart betrayed me. But, love is more than a moment or even a series of moments. When love comes alive there is no reasoning with it. From my present perspective, love is a hopeless insanity that brings only pain. I had believed with all the joy I felt, with all my soul, if you will allow me that expression...I believed I had finally found someone who understood and accepted me; who had the strength and the desire to withstand and balance my failings; and who had the endurance and the will to fight for and work with me to overcome our trials together.' And finally, I end the letter with, 'I don't know what to say when the question comes up why we have gone our separate ways. I am sorry if I hurt you, I wish I knew how I have hurt you. Maybe, I am over thinking the circumstances or maybe I'm trying too hard to find an answer where one just doesn't exist. I wish you would tell me if you know why. Could you tell me if you ever really loved me? This not knowing is more than I can endure sometimes. It doesn't help, but I still love you as much today as I did ten years ago.' I wrote this letter in October of 2002. My significant other had packed up and moved out around April. It is now 2014 and I still have no resolution to any of my questions. I have accepted there is no future fairy tale ending and have resolved to live my life without a companion. The thing that really sobers me to today's reality is I still love her as deeply as I did the first time the feeling hit me in 1992. I obviously love the ghost of who I believed she was to begin with, and not really her. But that knowledge doesn't change my world, does it? The sad thing is, since she abandoned 'us', I've not had the will to write. What used to flow freely from my fingers I now have to force and trick and bribe to get scenes, character descriptions, plots and interactions onto paper. When my love was joyful and secure writing was joyful and prolific. Every-so-often I get a glimmer of that part of my past. When I feel the pressure to write and when I keep the images even after I sit in the chair with the blank page, I capture for a brief moment what I use to feel and when the flurry fades I smile with wonder as I read what I've put to page, that I truly accomplished a creative purge. I live for those moments. I'm constantly looking for those inspirational triggers that will allow me to express my inner self. There is no joy compared to when I am free flowing words onto the page; even if it amounts to only a short sentence, or a paragraph. As long as I am able to write and smile while writing, that is enough to lift my spirits. Well, it is past my bedtime...today is a work day and I must get some sleep. Have a good Day and know I am smiling because I was able to put more than a sentence of creative expression to the page. The beginning and the ending of this blog is all new and original expressions never written or thought of before tonight (this morning)... |
| I've reworked She Talks to Angels and placed it in one of my works in progress journals (The original is still untouched at this time.) click on "A reworked story" I am interested in hearing if the extra 114 words is an improvement to telling the story. |
| A Poem I found and I wish to share. The Cold Within by James Patrick Kinney Six men trapped by happenstance In Dark and bitter cold; Each one possessed a stick of wood, Or so the story's told. Their dying fire in need of logs, The first man held his back, For of the faces 'round the fire, He noticed one was black. The next man looked across the way, Saw one not of his church, And couldn't bring himself to give The fire his stick of birch. The third man, dressed in tattered clothes, Then gave his coat a hitch. Why should his log be given up To arm the idle rich? The rich man sat back thinking of The wealth he had in store, And how to keep what he had earned From going to the poor. The black man's face bespoke revenge, While fire passed from sight. Saw only in his stick of wood, A way to spite the white. The last man of this forlorn group, Did nothing but for gain. Give only unto those who gave Was how he played the game. The logs held firm in death-stilled hands Was proof of human sin. They died not from the cold without But from the cold within. |
| Ahhh. It is almost lunchtime-- Even on my days off, I try to keep my same sleeping schedule that I have during my work week. I don't have too much to say for the day since I just logged on. I will write here before logging off; maybe, I will have more to say about my activities. Take care and may your road lead to only good places. Deb Compassion and the effort to try and understand some thing that was not understood before is a step toward acceptance not only of others but most importantly of yourself. Murphy's law regarding Plot: Every Plot Starts to Go Wrong Just After the First Big Scene. |
| I figured out how to find the review details and I owe 39 WDC members a visit to their Portfolio and reviews in kind. I wish to thank everyone who paid anniversary visits and took the time to read and give quality reviews of my stories and poetry. Tonight/Today (Sorry, I work nights and this time of day is close to my bed time. My mornings start around 2:30 PM--Get breakfast, get ready for work--start work @5:15 PM and get off @ 4:00 AM--go home and putter around until 6 AM on work days and noon on weekends--then to bed to get up again @ 2:30 PM). All the times are Mountain Time Zone BTW. Yesterday, I spent most of my time reading reviews I'd received. Today I will read those reviews I've given just to reaquaint myself with where I was before my long abscence. Tomorrow I hope to be orientated enough to start cruising ports and reading and reviewing. |
My Blog counter says it has been 8 months since my last entry--actually, January 7th would be eight months  . This is the 2nd of January 2014. I am healthy, full time employed, and determined to become active with reading and writing again. Upon my return, I have spotted some changes to the site and must relearn to navigate again--the foremost being how to navigate what reviews I've given and those I've received--seems like a lot of information has been truncated? I am once again a yellow case. This is necessary since my inactivity was very unmoderator type behavior. Happy New Year to all |
In Memory of Christopher Allen Ludwig Born November 6th 1979 at Mather AFB Sacramento, California. Christopher is survived by his brother Timothy and sister Amanda and both parents, Debora Ludwig of Montana and Howard Ludwig of Arizona. Others who shall miss him dearly are his step-mothers, Cathy Ludwig, of Arizona and Alberta Hunt of Montana. After graduating from Anaconda Job Corp, in Anaconda, Montana Chris traveled around the United States as a welder for K.D. Steel and helped build the Home Depot in Missoula, Montana as one of his last assignments for that company. Then he was employed by Selway Corp in Stevensville, Montana for a couple years. Christopher worked with his father and brother in Nevada with the FNF Construction Company before becoming employed with the NewMont Mining company in Elko County, Nevada where he died of as yet undetermined causes on January 20, 2011. Official cause of death is awaiting the toxicity analyses and final autopsy report from the Reno, Nevada Coroner's office. The family and friends of Christopher gathered at the Larry Creek Group Camp from Sunday, August 7th through Thursday, August 11th 2011 to remember and celebrate his life. On August 9th Christopher's ashes were placed around Bailey Lake in the Bitterroot Mountains of Montana by his father and brother. Everyone agrees that Chris is finally home. He shall be missed by everyone who knew him and especially by everyone who loves him. (addendum June 6, 2014: As of August 2013, the Coroner's report states cause of death Unknown. So the closure we, Christopher's family, had hoped for in what caused his death, was denied us. However, as a family we have pieced together what probably happened, based on the extremely low blood sugar found in the toxicity analyses. Christopher had a drinking problem and he also suffered from 'hypoglycemia'. A bad combination by itself. The night before he was found in his trailor, he'd been arrested for a DUI and spent the night in the drunk tank. He hadn't been fed, of course, while there. He was released and while eating his first meal for the day, and getting ready for work, he died of heart failure due to hypoglycemic shock. The coronor said--unofficially--that what he was eating was taking more bloodsugar to digest than was releasing back into his system. As his mother I grieve the fact that my son died alone.) Christopher's new front yard  |
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Remember, write first for yourself. Who cares if anyone else likes it? That's not why we write. Just remember what Robert Frost said: "Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." Yes, it's that's simple 
Ken