Thursday, May 28, 2015

Editing is fun!

Hi.

I've found my niche for editing. It is 3 a.m. until the family wakes up. Coffee and the family dog begging for second breakfast. I've been listening to a lot of old tunes lateley. Mostly Rush. Some Queensryche. A little Pink Floyd.

Musical storytellers.

My mind has been wandering back to my failure of a High School 'career'. I've been thinking of those old plans made as graduation approached. I never took that cross-country trip in lieu of an assitant manager job. I never made my basement into an arcade in lieu of the first wife's disinterest in 'childish things'. Status quoe verses dreams. Christ! I married too young. Let too many things go unexplored and now my soul is like a desert.

O.K., I'm back.

What has also come to my attention is that I am a kind of god. Not in any way that I will gain status in this universe. My godhood comes from what I have been told to create. That's why I am calling myself a god with a little 'g' and not the big one. My head hurts when I start thinking about this whole god-chicken-god-egg thing. All I know is that I'm second.

So here is the puzzle that proves that I'm a god: I have created a living, breathing universe... on paper. This universe travels through time and reaches a (small) climax. During said climax, the universe reaches across time, space, and even dimensions; only to impart some of its stories into my mind.
Because of the stories, I create a living, breathing universe. Now I find that I am driven to see where it all spends whatever energy I give to it.

I am the Breath of this universes' Life.

-god

Friday, May 15, 2015

Heavy Frontload

   Preface. Do I need one? Not sure. The author's note and the first chapter seem to be enough. I think I'll call it...

   Done. Well, sort of.

   I've constructed a mini novel that ties the stories of my chapters together. I don't think it will end up in the book itself. Is it too heavy? I don't think it is. Sure, there's death, destruction, a psychopath, a monster, weird science, and even Georgie...

   O.K. It might be a little heavy. I'll leave it out. Stick it in a drawer and forget about it. Maybe it can be a bonus short story about the book after it becomes a best seller. Why did I write something that I'll never include? I'm looking at this as a pilot episode for the rest of the book's serialized chapters. That what it is, after all; a season of TV shows with no boundaries and no censors.

   I've even got a cliffhanger.

   I don't have a second book, but I've got a cliffhanger! Christ, this'll never sell.

   Well, all I can do is get through the edit process and hope for the best.

- I.K.

Friday, May 1, 2015

Bland Man's Bluff

  We are flawed.

  Our filters are limited. There is more to the light spectrum than what we can perceive on a moment to moment daily basis. There are sounds we cannot hear. There are paths of logical occurrences that our minds cannot fully accept.

  You know that we are built off of DNA blueprints, but are you aware of every copy being made of yourself as it is being made? Nope.

  We don’t even notice our breath. We have grown ignorant of our heartbeat. The only time we notice that kind of stuff is when we wake up at 2 a.m. in a cold sweat in a dark room. Or when we are sick and the rest of the world no longer matters.

  Here’s the thing; we look around our little worlds with our limited input systems and we think we have a ‘pretty good’ handle for what is going on. Meanwhile; our loves, enemies, co-conspirators, and folks we’ve ‘friended’ are all doing and thinking their own version of the same thing. Some of us drive too fast, some of us lust, some of us hide in bottles; all of us have flaws of weaknesses based upon some form of fear.

  Fear due to our limited filters of this Reality.

  Fear that there are things above and beyond that are casually regarding us.

  Fear that we might be insignificant in light of the Universe.

  We are failed, for we cannot see.

- I.K.