Dream Theater

Last night I returned from a three day work trip. It was nothing special, but I was tired and worn out. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep. I have to admit, I don’t dream much. I have no reason why. Maybe I think so much when I am awake, my mind takes a vacation and relaxes. When I do dream it usually is a doozy. Dreams are usually a little bit of this sprinkled with a little bit of that. My dream took me to a theater. Not a nice digital theater with comfortable seats and lights on the floor to show you a path. This was an ancient building with creaky floors and creakier seats. You could hear popcorn  popping and I had a bucket on my lap. An old reel to reel projector fired up and a movie flickered to life on the screen. I saw bits and pieces of my life mixed with characters I write about in my notebooks. I do have an idea of what my characters look like because I think about it. It’s weird to see fictional characters interacting with events from your life. I wish there was more to tell, but I woke up suddenly and it was over.

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Season of the “Which”…my horror story.

As in, which way will I go now. Will I continue making notes and keeping scraps of dialogue or will I start building the frame work for my novel? I have enough ideas and notes for ten books. I would like to transfer all my written notes to my computer because I intend to complete it on my laptop. I intend to use one of the writing programs like “scrivener” or “ywriter”. There are many programs and I have been browsing around looking at them. I have given some of them a test drive. I really like scrivener but there is a learning curve. I thought learning how to type was hard.

Which way to go?

I have so many ideas and scenarios for my characters that I could do five books and they wouldn’t even be sequels. I would be the same story divided up into manageable sized books.

I am going to try and start entering my notebook information onto my laptop and begin sorting things out. I am not much into outlining but I will have to put something down on paper to give me some idea of the scope of this thing. I am a non linear writer. It just works for me. To each his own. I enjoy the freedoms that writers have.

It feels like I am stopped at a crossroad. I have to make a decision. I think when I make the decision to “go for it” , I will look back and wonder why I didn’t do it sooner.

It is time. My characters are looking at me. My Muse is looking at me. I am looking at myself in the mirror. It may be the fear of the unknown. It is time to step on the gas and put my book together. I am nervous and happy, too.

My pen was hot when I put it down.

I don’t like to brag. I really don’t. The introvert part of me prefers to not be seen. I like being in the corner, the back row or in the shadows. I would like to say my Muse really sent out some ideas for me to find. I found them all. I completed my “notes glued in journal” project. I ended up with one and a half books filled to the brim with cut paper notes. It amazes me when I read some of the notes, as I  tape them in. I don’t remember some of them. Sometimes I write fast, while im busy doing something else, and I guess I haven’t committed it to memory. It is like having the idea again, for the first time. I enjoy it just as much the second time. It is scary to think of a time when I had great ideas and inspiration, but I didn’t write it down. I am very careful to write things down now.

I thought I would have to dip my pen in water to cool it off. I enjoy the fire, when my Muse is working overtime. Last night at work, I was with other people, so I didn’t connect with my Muse and produced no notes. It happens, but I deal with it. The noise of conversation around me reacts to my introvert self and scrambles my thought process. That is why I crave my private time. Its late here, so I am going to wrap it up and go to sleep dreaming about that next great idea.

I feel the cold

Winter has arrived. It was a little late this year. There is a huge wave of cold air on the East coast and I feel it in my bones. I feel it as a stronger force, since I am approaching middle age. The years snuck up on me. I have started late, but better late than never. I have done a lot of manual labor and I feel that in my hands and fingers as I write or type. I took the time, two or three years ago to teach myself to type. I let go of my hunt and peck and look at the keys approach and bought a typing program and followed the rules. It took me extra time but I am typing with decent speed now. my goal was to be able to type my thoughts as they came to me. That way I could get my ideas down quickly and keep on truckin’. Now, I can’t look at the keys and type. It is amazing to be able to type like I always wanted to. If I can do that then I can do my writing, too.

Back to the cold.

I feel a coldness not related to the weather. I don’t feel like writing. I don’t feel like going to my night job tonight and I don’t even feel like watching TV. I don’t want to read either. I guess everyone has a day like this, once and a while. It may be related to me being an introvert. I stayed up late putting my notes in my writing journal (16a). I had about a year’s worth of notes to cut and glue in. It usually takes a long time to do a whole book and I did this one in 2 days. I may have suffered from information overload. I am going to try and let my mind rest tonight.

Throwing away one of the worlds greatest tools

How could you? Maybe the letters it wrote weren’t dark enough or you thought it was too short. When I spotted this, I stood motionless for a minute. I could understand if it was trimmed till you couldn’t hold it or if the eraser was missing. It was cold and dreary today and this was laying just off the parking lot at a doctor’s office. Now it is warm and dry and in my pen collection. I plan to always keep it. Yes, I know it is an inanimate object. This object has written untold millions of papers, books, notes and without it I don’t know where we would be as far as the spreading of knowledge is concerned. We have computers and phones to do all our typing and note taking. I don’t even carry a pen like I did in the past. I bet the first designs for all of our tech devices was drawn on a piece of paper with a pencil. All lumber used to build the houses you are in now were cut with saws that line up with a pencil mark.

The BIG 150

I just passed 150 pages of notes that I write down using the Colornote app. I talk a lot about my note books the app and putting notes on folded paper at work. I have no set amount of ideas or notes that I consider a page. It might be less than a natural page or it might be more. When I am happy with the amount I send it by email ( the app does it easily) to my Gmail account. I have a colornote folder and I put the email there. I put number 151 in its folder tonight. I figured out how to email my note to my account and move it to its proper folder directly from my phone. I love the quickness. I can move on to something else. It is funny to reread the notes and not remember the ideas included. If I had not written it down, it would be lost forever. When I first started note keeping, I wrote them down on scraps of paper or on the backs of business cards, etc. It took me a long time to perfect a system that I was comfortable with. My writing journals, the colornote app and folded paper for work is my system. Where ever I am, I am covered when my Muse sends me something. I keep my phone, by my bed, in case I dream and idea or I am thinking through my day. You have to get it while you can. With all this idea coverage, I STILL lose good ones. Someone will call or start talking just as I am trying to place it in my memory and the next thing you know…it is gone. And they don’t leave a forwarding address.

I’m a note taking-you-know-what.

I finished my book-journal-note-thing 15, with a flurry of activity. I was doing 80 mph in a 55 mph zone. I may have hit a wind assisted 85…I’m not sure. Anyway, Me and Elmer Stick E. got the job done at blazing speeds. I was so tired, I couldn’t finish the rest of the pile. I am going to try and make time tomorrow to get caught up. I know some of my posts are short and sweet, but I don’t like to add filler. Check out the pic. I had to double the rubber band to hold it together. Its the addition of the cut up note pages and a ton of scotch tape that makes it so thick. I am hoping just using the glue stick will remove some of the bulkiness. I think I have put my note books on a diet. If that rubber band breaks, notes will explode like the fourth of July. I might add another rubber band for protection.

My new friend, Mr. Glue Stick.

Talk about a life saver. I have written before about my huge note pile and no time to put the cut up pages into my sketch-note- journal whatever you want to call it. I have to fold my sheet size note paper enough times to fit in my pocket so I  can write ideas down in a hurry. My job doesn’t allow use of my phone and its Colornote app. I am not going to rewrite all of that into my main book so I have been cutting the pages down and scotch taping them in the journal. I wanted some glue type thing but I also didn’t want to wait for pages to dry. I was afraid the glue would bleed through and stick the pages together. I finally decided to try the glue stick. It worked perfectly. I did a pile and a half of note sticking last night. Along the way, I made another mistake. I finished journal 15 and hopped on over to my red 16 and started filling it with notes. I happened to look at the front and noticed I grabbed the wrong red book. I have two copies. What to do? I am much to bothered to redo my books, so now I have 16a and 16b. My original 16 is the b and the one I picked up by mistake is 16a. Problem solved. I am not hard to please, but I will admit that I have a basket full of quirks associated with being Introvert. I think of them as beautiful quirks and I can’t print what others call them.

Shopping at the glossary store

See that photo of fruits and veggies? They are all my notes and scraps of dialogue and offering from my Muse. Writing them all down was like shopping the grocery store for my food. Words are my food. I have to prepare them by washing and cleaning them and chopping them up. I will add them to the pot and simmer slowly and put in a little seasoning here and there. When it tastes just right, I will have my book. I just have to pick up a knife and get started. That’s the hard part.

Looking for glue at the scene of the grime.

What? He repeated, “They are looking for clues at the scene of the crime”. My hearing isn’t what it used to be. People say one thing and I hear another. That leads to new notes and ideas for me, but I have to ask, “what did you say?” That’s why you need note taking materials on hand at all times. I have a friend who has a “space” pen by her bed with a notebook. A space pen has an ink cartridge that is pressurized. If you are laying in bed you can write upside down and the ink won’t stop flowing. I will take an idea wherever it appears. My Muse will hide ideas like Easter eggs. I don’t mind getting a basket and beating the bushes for hidden gems. I am always looking for the next snippet of dialogue or note worthy idea. She gives me plenty, but I keep getting little reminders to be thankful. Having to dig deep for an idea is like exercise for a writer’s mind. You can’t always have it easy and nothing comes without a little work. I think you appreciate it more.