From... "Do You Mind."

Light bounces into the pit of my one bedroom apartment. With the sun comes traffic, it makes the walls seems like cardboard. I brace myself against the noise and I remind myself that, “Today is the first day, of the rest of my life.” I try to keep my breakfast down while I hum that mantra to myself. I remind myself that being stuck in an elevator for five hours was not traumatic, but it did give time to think. One thought circled my brain for five hours:
Someone inside me is trying to kill me.
  
From that sweaty little elevator I pictured my Id behind the wheel of my 1989 gun-metal-green Honda Accord, driving on to the tracks of an on coming train, grinning. Today is the first step of my course correction. I scheduled an appointment with a therapist.
  
"God, we just don't want to die alone."
  
“Who said that?” I say aloud to no one. Where is that voice coming from? Voices? I actually hear too many voices to count.  My subconscious shouting, except instead of one voice, there are fifty individual consciousnesses, each raising their right hand, jumping up and down, shouting, "Me."

At the top of their Mormon tabernacle choir lungs. "Meeeee," they shout. Answering my question.

Maybe a drink would be a good idea? They sing in unison, "Nooooo."
I have problems. The choir again, "YESSSSS."

Excerpt from my novel, Redemption

 

"What the fuck do you think your doing?"

I had answered the phone using muscle memory. My body heard something ringing and reached out to answer it, before my mind could tell it, shhhh, we're asleep. I think I grunted.

"What the fuck are you doing, get out of my head. You're fucking with me and I won't have it."

More awake now. "What? Who is this? What is going on?"I was awake now and all systems started to come on line. Blinking slowly, "Misty?"

"Who else would it be? How many people are you torturing with your mind?"

"I don't.... I mean I'm not attacking anyone with my --"

"Come off it. You know damn well --"

It all came together for me in one moment. "Listen, crazy lady you need to shut the hell up. If you think the torture is bad now, maybe I'll just decide to turn your mind off. Think on that."

I pressed end on my iPhone and then turned my phone off. Less satisfying then slamming an old fashion phone down on it's receiver, but good enough."

Excerpt from my novel, Redemption

The flight is uneventful and small. Charlie and Misty split cost of a charter from Florence to the Isle of Man Airport at Ronaldsway. Custom furniture for the the headquarters of The Excalibur Project. I suspect we'll get to do all their offices if things go well. Then the four of us are off on vacation. Isle to Man to Tangier. Doesn't suck.

Everything seems a little more fragile in the air, maybe it's all travel. Leaving the place we call home tests us in ways were not tested, when at home.  Whether its geographic, emotional  or fiscal, leaving home is a test.

I feel it first in sub-pockets of old injuries. My left index finger, from a kicking accident, when I was in martial arts as a kid. My left knee, hurt playing football. A snap of pain pops up when the cabin pressure changes. All this has me miles away from the conversation Carla, Misty and Charlie are having.

Maybe I should take comfort in the fact that every journey is weaving me closing to home. That just as I leave, I'm already on my way back. But there is no comfort culled from this future knowledge. I shouldn't notice all the small crackles and pops of my body, I should give them no notice. But I hate flying and I hate not knowing where we are going, really.

Excerpt from my work in progress....

Anne, I guess was my first teacher.
Did she take pity on me, or was it that she saw the real me?

Anne was light as a feather, her being, she seemed to dance in a world that stood still.

She could say and do anything and get away with, in my youth and confusion I thought just maybe she was an angel.



She did many angelic things, but the first time she pushed her crotch into my thigh, the fist time she licked the tip of my earlobe, I knew she was wholly-woman-human.

With every kiss, she tried to teach me something, tell me something, tell my soul something. Every argument ended in tears.

I think she left when see saw, that I was blind, that I was never gonna see what see could.

Her tears stained my vision.

Practicing Being Grateful 3

Day 3 of 21 Gratitude practice – writing down three new things I'm grateful for everyday...

1. Good friends Donald and Nirmala
2. Good tequila
3. Mexican food, good

http://www.ted.com/talks/shawn_achor_the_happy_secret_to_better_work.html

GOOD STUFF TED: Shawn Achor

Practicing Being Grateful 2

Day 2 of 21 Gratitude practice – writing down three new things I'm grateful for everyday...

1. Passover at the Hendon/Balizer's
2. Clear Seattle skies
3. Papaya tablets from Trader Joes

http://www.ted.com/talks/shawn_achor_the_happy_secret_to_better_work.html

GOOD STUFF TED: Shawn Achor

Practicing Being Grateful

Day 1 of 21 Gratitude practice – writing down three new things I'm grateful for everyday...

1. The healing power of my body
2. Karen, doting on me
3. Jake staring at me

TED: Shawn Achor http://www.ted.com/talks/shawn_achor_the_happy_secret_to_better_work.html

GOOD STUFF

3 Gratitudes – write down three new things you are grateful for everyday

Journaling – write about one positive thing that you have experienced every 24 hours

Exercise – teaches your brain that your behavior matters

Meditation – spend some time, even just 5 minutes a day, sitting still with your eyes closed in silence, this will train your brain to focus on one thing

Random Acts of Kindness – write one positive email or note thanking or praising someone in your social support network every day

http://www.ted.com/talks/shawn_achor_the_happy_secret_to_better_work.html

NWSG and energy entertainment

Kudos to the NWSG.

On Saturday, March 31, the Northwest Screenwriters Guild hosted manager, Angelina Chen of Energy Entertainment. http://www.energyentertainment.net/

She lead a lively discussion on a manager’s role in a writer’s career, and offered her insights.

A good time was had by all.

March update and Do You Mind

A whole quarter of 2012 has almost rocketed by without a post from me. For shame...

Below an excerpt from a short story I'll submit to my writer's group next. Wish me luck...
First one to spot a typo gets a cup of coffee, on me.

From, "Do You Mind"

"What happened?" The phrase leaps from my mouth.
Isn't that the question everyone asks when they know what happened?

Lillian tells me what I already know, I passed out.

"The doctor thinks you might have low blood sugar? Did you eat today, Peter?

My mind spins around these questions looking for the last question I was asked.

I have never been the object of anyone's desire. I am fit, I'm not ugly. I have a sandy-haired, aw-shucks cuteness that some women find appealing, , low mileage. But to be used in someone's fantasy, I think it made all the blood rush out of my head.

And no, the blood never made it to my other head.

"The doctor wanted me to let her know when you came to. I think you're going to be fine.

I am going to let the doctor know you've come around.

She peels the blood pressure cuff off my arm almost before I noticed it was on.

Lillian didn't mean to, but she brings up a good question, “ Have I come around?”