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A while back I wrote a story about a foreign exchange student, a girl from Russia, who found love in America. As usual, I had more than one plot idea in my mind. The story I'm posting first in 2018 is another of those ideas. It's called Lotus Flower Stew.
It's fairly short, nine chapters, so it will all be up by the end of this week.
I hope we all have a happy new year.
Maybe I'm confused, or delayed, or whatever, but the time of the year I spend the most time thinking about being thankful is this time of the year, rather than November.
We all wander around on this spinning globe, as it wanders around a star that's wandering through the universe. It can seem like a treadmill sometimes, though, where we aren't really going anywhere. And we can feel like we're just a speck, floating in nothingness. As a cop, I saw first hand how this time of year can create crisis and turmoil in those who feel isolated.
But you're not alone. In this world, it's almost impossible to be alone. You affect other people every single day. In happy circumstances, you affect them in positive ways. In many circumstances, you aren't aware you affected them at all.
Which brings it back to me. (It's always about me, of course) Thousands of you have affected me over the years. You wrote me notes about it. I'm thankful for that. Some of them were intended to be negative, but even those, I am thankful for, because even those made me think about things. And it's 'thinking about things' that produces the ideas I put on digital paper.
I started writing to fill my own needs, one of which was to feel creative. I shared that with the world at large on a whim. I felt like a kid, offering a crayon drawing to group of strangers to see if they thought it looked like what it was supposed to be or not.
The strangers (most of them) were kind to me. The strangers gave me advice. The strangers told me I wasn't alone, and thanked me for helping them feel like they weren't alone.
Even though we never met, there was a connection that affected us all.
Of course I hope I affect people in positive ways. But at this time of year, when the reason for the season is giving, I think a lot about how much other people have given me.
Thank you for that.
If you read me, you know I'm not one for being politically correct. But just this once, I'll try it.
Have a wonderful Rama-Hanna-Quans-mas and may the new year bring you prosperity and health.
I'm posting a new one this week called A String of Pearls. It's written in a different way that will be strangely familiar to my regular readers. The description will probably make you scratch your head and think about moving on, but if you come to SOL looking for my output, give this one a chance.
It's short, only four chapters, which means a chapter each on Monday through Thursday.
Now, I have to confess something here, myself. I had two stories ready to go, and this one really should have been posted after the first of the year. You'll understand that on Thursday. The problem is I get impatient sometimes and this one was jumping up and down yipping, "Post me! Post me! Post me first!" Once it actually is 2018, it won't matter, but just for a month, if you read this, you get to go on a time machine to the future.
Thanks for reading.
Greetings an hallucinations. I say hallucinations because this blog entry is going to ramble a bit.
As many of you know, my writing style is unconventional. At least I think it is. I work on three or four projects at the same time. I'm pretty sure most authors stick to one idea and finish that before they open another can of worms.
What that means, as I've said before, is that sometimes multiple projects get finished around the same general time.
And what that means is that between now and the end of January, I'm going to post at least two, and maybe three things.
The first of them is called Vacation At The Beach. It's pure coincidence that I'm posting a story about a warm beach when it's about to get cold and snowy. But if it helps ...
The other thing is that, when you write a lot about any genre, there's only so much you can say before you start repeating yourself. I write a lot of incest, and I wanted to try something that felt different. So I think this story is different.
This story has some darkness in it, specifically because it flirts with the concept of what some would call molestation. I am not trying to minimize the dangers of molestation, and I believe molesters - people who force their attention on the young and innocent - should be put where they can't hurt anyone. Some of that plays out in this story.
But I also learned, during my life, that not all "victims" feel like victims. Some victims have to be taught that they are/were victims. A good example is the recent hubbub about the team doctor who molested girls on the U.S. Olympics gymnastics team. More than one of the girls - the victims - said they weren't aware that anything bad was going on at the time. They just thought it was part of his treatments.
Now, of course, they're horrified and want justice.
But you see the difficulty, here. If something happens to someone that they don't perceive as bad, or evil, or whatever ... then the only reason they're a victim is because someone else tells them they are. And if they actually enjoyed what happened, the problem is even bigger. If they say they enjoyed it, then people treat them like something's wrong with them. They're taught to feel guilty about something they had no control over.
In "civilized society" it isn't up to the participants to decide what's good and bad. Society does that for them. And the only nod society gives them is to call some things "victimless crimes." The salient point there is that it's still a crime.
I don't pretend to have any answers. I just write stories about people in unconventional situations. I'm a philosopher. I like to imagine how people might react to strange stimuli under unexpected conditions.
And, after all, isn't that what fiction is for? Real life can (and does) crush us pretty regularly.
That's why things end up happy in most of my work.
Even if it's about an "icky" kind of situation.
So I hope you can enjoy this slightly seamy story about people to whom odd things happen, stimulating their subconscious minds to let them do something they never thought would happen.
Thanks for reading.
A note on the new story, You Have To Choose.
As those of you who follow my work probably already know by now, I'm a bit impulsive now and then. I also work on more than one project at the "same" time, meaning I work on whatever my muse is excited about at any given moment.
My muse got excited about this Halloween story, but she did it pretty late and then nature intervened in terms of me ripping out a bunch of carpet and replacing it with hardwood flooring. My back did not appreciate this and I lost a week of productive writing time while I was flat on my back avoiding moving more than I just had to.
This is not an excuse, but it did severely restrict the amount of time there was for review of the story when it finally got finished. Michelle did get a quick look at it (one day versus her normal week or more) but Andy, who has a life of his own, did not.
What I'm saying is that the quality they have spoiled you with may be somewhat lacking. Andy will read it when he gets time, and send me notes, so eventually anything wrong will get fixed.
This is why there's no end note on this story. I'm flying solo on this one. All I ask is that you give me a soft place to crash in if you notice problems.
Thanks for reading.
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