tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64090032024-03-13T08:29:45.760-07:00Captured DreamsThe random works and thoughts of Edward.Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comBlogger127125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-40803572440194764492024-03-06T11:13:00.000-08:002024-03-06T11:13:08.033-08:00<p>Cannot Tame the Rewrite?</p><p><br /></p><p>I wrote Cannot Tame the Wind back in 2016, after throwing it on Amazon for a while I've pulled it and decided I could rework and rewrite it some to make it a better story. Going to be posting it chapter by Chapter at RoyalRoad and hopefully get some feedback to help with making it the best story. The fun thing is I had intended on writing a trilogy then put it aside to let it breath and just forgot about it. Still no guarantee of the trilogy, but I do want to improve the story.</p><p>In theory it'll appear here once approval is complete, will update the link if it changes, probably take a few days for approval.</p><p><br /></p><p>https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/92369/Cannot-Tame-The-Wind</p>Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-64736688534533146672020-07-29T21:16:00.000-07:002020-07-29T21:16:38.163-07:00Back in the swing of things, Due to middle section bloat, I decided to split up the book Skills and Demons : First Encounters, into two books. With the first weighing in at 142K words before editing and revising, its pretty hefty and for paper copies on Amazon that is about as big as I can make it without having to charge $20 per copy. After finding a nice stopping point, I took a month off to work on revising and rest some. <div><br /></div><div>That time has passed and I started working on book two, which I'm kind of iffy on the title as of yet. I have a rough outline, not as detailed as some previous projects, but its a start, and I'm aiming for 100K words. So far I'm at 10K words so getting there. </div><div><br /></div><div>If you want to start reading it on RR, the start of book two is, <a href="https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/26422/skills-demons-crunchy/chapter/530381/book-2-chapter-1-grinding-phat-lootz">https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/26422/skills-demons-crunchy/chapter/530381/book-2-chapter-1-grinding-phat-lootz</a> Not all the chapters I've written are up as of yet, I've scheduled a bunch to release over the next couple of weeks, but do know they are coming. My patreon has stuff as soon as I finish a chapter and run through Grammarly and do a once-through. <a href="https://www.patreon.com/UnwrittenDreams">https://www.patreon.com/UnwrittenDreams</a> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-9945235236193798702020-06-19T15:21:00.001-07:002020-06-19T15:21:31.966-07:00Running free book promoMy journey in fatherhood started almost the same time I decided to start writing actual books instead of stopping after starting them. <div><br /></div><div>So figured I'd do something for father's day.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Running a free book promo on Amazon for Mortis Operandi: New Hire from, </div><div><br /></div><div>Saturday, June 20, 2020, 12:00 AM PDT to Wednesday, June 24, 2020, 11:59 PM PDT</div><div><br /></div><div>https://www.amazon.com/Mortis-Operandi-Hire-Edward-Buchanan-ebook/dp/B07T46B4NM</div><div><br /></div><div>If you don't have it feel free to snag</div></div>Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-91768394129748406502020-06-18T20:38:00.000-07:002020-06-18T20:38:05.436-07:00Soon to be released june 22nd 2020I am eagerly awaiting the release of my short story on Amazon. Counting the days until the June 22nd date, and hoping people read it. While I know it is not going to generate thousands of dollars, my expectations are set more realistic, somewhere around a hundred or two. To be honest, if any money is generated it'll be more than what I had previously. I'm sure other authors have used this method as a way to fund their writing hobby, I should have asked around before I did it. <div><br /></div><div>Let's hope I'm not wasting anyone's time. </div><div><br /></div><div>Been working on the outline for the 2nd half of the novel, which now I should start calling it a sequel. The expansion of the middle from the first book really showed me how my first outline failed, or I failed in following it. Also I started making a map because as my world grew I started forgetting names, distances, and general terrain. </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe I should not have given a pre-order timeframe. Oh well, we will see how it goes on Monday.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08B86FNZK">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08B86FNZK</a></div>Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-4958608556803274802020-06-15T21:12:00.000-07:002020-06-15T21:12:18.825-07:00Finally, finished... Ok, more like I'm finally at the halfway point. Started a project 10months ago. Planned one book initially then possibly a sequel. However due to the story wandering around and growing in the middle, I decided to split the one book into 2. At 140K words, if I kept it as one book, I'm guessing it would easily be 250K, which while nice, would not be feasible to get paperback versions at an affordable price.<div><br /></div><div>Now that I have time to sit and think about it, I decided to take one of the short stories I wrote for the book and list it on Amazon. Figured it would help fund the cost of editing the main book.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not much else to say, lots of ideas for other novels and books. I have an idea for a Colfax and Dead sequel, and even have ~7K words started on it, but I didn't have enough of a story to really write a sequel. The same with Cannot Tame the Wind, have an idea for book 2, but doesn't seem to be enough for a whole book. </div><div><br /></div><div>Of all the ideas in the past year, the one that seems to have some meat to it, is the Skills & Demons storyline. Part of it is I get to take all the horrible D&D memories I have and share them and inflict new ones upon the characters. </div><div><br /></div><div>It has been doing ok at RoyalRoad where I've been posting it, have gotten a lot of excellent comments that'll help when I start the revision. </div><div><br /></div><div>If you are interested in effectively beta reading, check them out, I'm doing two versions of the story, one with game text (crunchy) and one without (non-crunchy).</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Crunchy</div><div>https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/26422/skills-archetypes-and-demons-first-encounters</div><div><br /></div><div>Non-Crunchy</div><div>https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/29481/skills-archetypes-and-demons-first-encounters</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Also coming up on my 1 year anniversary for Patreon, if you want to toss a dollar my way, feel free, I typically post chapters to the Patreon 5 days before they hit on RoyalRoad. <a href="https://www.patreon.com/UnwrittenDreams">https://www.patreon.com/UnwrittenDreams</a> </div><div><br /></div><div>Either way, I hope my writing entertains. </div>Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-58350322527833995472018-12-05T20:18:00.000-08:002018-12-05T20:19:28.428-08:00An update suddenly appears!For NaNoWriMo, I thought I would work on a fun project. While I wanted to hit 50K words, I knew it wouldn't be possible with my current words per day. Most days if I hit 1K words it is a good day.<br />
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I had also been pondering getting rid of my Macbook, and I completed that task in November. I don't mind having multiple OS's or different ecosystems, all I care about is having the best tool for whatever job I'm trying to complete. However Apple's recent stances against Right to Repair just irks me the wrong way. I could go deeper into it, but its a decision most people will have to make for themselves.<br />
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So I sold my macbook and got me a little Lenovo 330s 15ARR(15", AMD 2500u, SSD and 20g of RAM). The battery life isn't as great as the macbook but this way I feel like I'm not supporting Apple. I was already a scrivener users for both windows and Mac so didn't have to make any changes there.<br />
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Either way, I've been working on a Novella, maybe even a novel depending on how the story fills out. You are welcome to read a few chapters at <a href="http://mortis.operandi.biz/">http://mortis.operandi.biz/</a> I'm also posting the chapters at <a href="https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/167398745-mortis-operandi">Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/167398745-mortis-operandi </a>. Feel free to check it out. I'll try to update the site often as I add more chapters.Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-49994406845367475602017-07-03T08:12:00.000-07:002017-07-03T08:12:04.200-07:00Corner of Colfax and DeadPart 1 of Colfax and Dead is complete. I made a cover and put it on Amazon for $0.99 if anyone wants to read it. Also available for Kindle Unlimited. It is my venture into Urban Fantasy. I have Part 3 written and am working on Part 2. I know it seems odd that I am writing them slightly out of order but... This series is also my venture into writing without a structured outline ahead of time. So give it a shot and let me know what you think.<br />
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https://www.amazon.com/dp/B073NYZGP7<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04353640467969145616noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-68719394184226045942017-07-02T00:56:00.003-07:002017-07-02T01:00:10.763-07:00I made a thing,<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After quite a few revisions I finally finished Cannot Tame the Wind. I had been working on a cover design and feel it is done. If you have Amazon Prime or access to the Kindle Unlimited, it is on their to read. The paperback version should be available here soon. Check it out, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Cannot-Tame-Wind-Windmistress-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B073HWB46F/">Cannot Tame the Wind.</a><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04353640467969145616noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-36973901039691700272016-10-08T23:42:00.003-07:002016-10-08T23:42:49.875-07:00Corner of Colfax and Dead, finished.In Sept I had an idea for a story and it prevented me from working on another project. I ended up writing a small novella ~21K words. I wanted to do something different with it so I wrote it without an outline and discovery wrote it. Parts of me enjoys discovery writing another part of me worries I will have to do a lot more editing for continuity errors and weak plot. Still I finished it and am hoping once it finishes editing it will find some fans.<br />
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How does a story grab a hold of you and prevent you from writing something else? That is easy, one day I had an idea which went along the lines of: <b><i>“I always told myself that I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Now that I’m dead it appears there is too much to get done.” </i></b><br />
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It kind of took off from there. I wrote an urban fantasy novella about a guy who is dead but not dead. Somewhat in the lines of a zombie but less "braaaaains" and more lack of things that make living worthwhile like taste and smell. <br />
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I wanted an urban fantasy book that was light on the fantasy part and more of the struggling hero. So my little book has no vampires, no werewolves, no wizards, nor demons. I don't plan on having any of those things, well maybe a little black magic but i'm thinking something in the kin of Gandalf type of magic rather than Harry Potter.<br />
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Will this book have more parts, I'm not sure. Will people get sick of the name dropping of places in Denver and Colorado that I put in it... probably.. oh well. Either way keep reading and I'll post a link once I have it up somewhere. Until then here is the first few chapters I posted to Goodreads. <br />
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https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/489218-corner-of-colfax-and-dead?chapter=1<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04353640467969145616noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-42335438257713466422016-09-22T21:57:00.001-07:002016-09-22T21:59:06.497-07:00New work in progressSomewhere a phrase appeared in my mind. This phrase caused me to change which writing project I was working on. That phrase, "I always told myself that I'll sleep when I'm dead. Now that I'm dead it appears there is too much to get done." That phrase along with the quote from Playboy Magazine in the 70's, "Colfax is the longest wickedest street in America." just got me hooked. Before I knew it I am working on a novella that fits within the Urban Fantasy genre. I decided I would share the first few chapters that I have written to see what feedback I can get as I work on this.<br />
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<a href="http://www.unwrittendreams.com/2016/09/corner-of-colfax-and-dead-chapter-1_67.html">http://www.unwrittendreams.com/2016/09/corner-of-colfax-and-dead-chapter-1_67.html</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.unwrittendreams.com/2016/09/corner-of-colfax-and-dead-chapter-2.html">http://www.unwrittendreams.com/2016/09/corner-of-colfax-and-dead-chapter-2.html</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.unwrittendreams.com/2016/09/corner-of-colfax-and-dead-chapter-3.html">http://www.unwrittendreams.com/2016/09/corner-of-colfax-and-dead-chapter-3.html</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04353640467969145616noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-60983314018804382472016-09-22T21:51:00.002-07:002016-09-22T21:51:39.910-07:00Corner of Colfax and Dead - Chapter 1<div class="p1">
“I always told myself that I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Now that I’m dead it appears there is too much to get done.” The thought crossed my mind again as it always did right around the 5<span class="s1"><sup>th</sup></span> shot. I slammed the empty glass down on the bar and called for a 6<span class="s1"><sup>th</sup></span>. Daxx slid a shot down the bar towards me. I lifted it up quickly and downed quickly. It went down as everything else did bland and tasteless. My lack of smell and taste was a side effect of my condition. I didn’t usually waste much drinking but tonight was a good night. I had gotten paid for some work so I waved Daxx towards me.</div>
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“I’d like to settle up my tab, got paid today.” I placed a wrinkled 100$ bill on the bar.</div>
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“Sure Matt, let me go fetch it.” Daxx walked down the bar towards where the register was located. He reached under the counter and pulled out a ragged little notebook stuffed with old receipts between the pages. The old notebook was held together by a leather cord he wrapped around it. With practiced movements he quickly unwrapped the notebook and opened it up. I’m not sure how he does it but he always opens it to a page or two to where he needs to go. This time he opened directly to my page. He pulled out some receipts, closed the book, rewrapped the leather cord around it, and placed it under the bar. </div>
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Deftly he spent a minute entering numbers into the register and printed a new piece of paper that he torn and held out in front of him as he started walking back over towards me. For a moment I held my breath pondering if I had enough money to pay the tab off in full and cover my rent for the next month. It seemed every other night I was here drinking a few shots while trying to relax. I closed my eyes briefly and pray to whatever gods there were for an amount I could handle. As Daxx got closer I decided I should prepare him incase it was too much.</div>
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“Daxx, could I…” I started to say but stopped as Daxx lay a piece of paper onto the bar. The paper read ‘$22.57’ and I stared at it in shock. How could it be so little. I’ve been drinking probably 4-6 shots a night. I looked up in disbelief at Daxx with my mouth slightly open. My confusion and surprise must have been evident. </div>
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“Matt, I’m not sure what happened to you three months ago. None of my business, but I be damned if I let good alcohol go to waste.” Daxx said bringing me up to speed but I was still confused so after a minute of silence he continued. “One night I accidentally gave you some apple juice I keep for the kids. You didn’t notice it. So I tried swapping out your Gin with just tonic water. You still didn’t notice it.” </div>
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“You’ve been cheating me!” I sputtered as my brain finally caught up. </div>
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“Na, I didn’t charge you for the drinks. As you see, I saved ya over 200$.” Daxx replied as he pointed to the long list of drinks. All of the ones that I remembered were there nice and neat with the dates and times next to them. Even the night I tried hitting on a lady by buying her a glass of wine was there. One glass was marked as 5$ the other was 0.00$.</div>
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“I had figured you were watering the stuff down to save money.” I laughed as I squeezed my left hand. “Didn’t think it had anything to do with me.”</div>
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“Look Matt, you’ve been coming here for years. I like you coming around cause you never cause trouble and when someone gets too drunk, you’re always the guy offering to call a cab.” Daxx replied offering a friendly smile. After a moment of silence Daxx moved his right hand under the bar.</div>
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“Whoa, Daxx I’m not looking for trouble. I just… I just… I’m not sure what happened to me and I accepted the lack of taste and smell. I just didn’t realize I couldn’t get drunk. I thought 40 years of drinking finally built up my tolerance.” I gave my best smile, no teeth of course cause never could afford dental work. With both of my hands on the bar palms downwards I waited for Daxx to relax. It took a moment but his hand came back up from under the bar without the tire iron I know he keeps under there. Every 5 feet or so he had a iron or bat or shotgun in the case of the register hidden under for safety. </div>
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“Look Matt, I’m not interested in your story. I like having you as a customer and I don’t abide screwing my customers.” Daxx smiled back the smile he gives all customers. I pulled my wallet out and removed two twenties and a ten. I then pushed them across the bar. </div>
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“Even if you aren’t gonna charge me, at least take something for tips.” I said as I stood up. “Also thanks for being honest. See ya tomorrow.” I stood up from the warm barstool that by now had a permanent impression of my butt on it and started walking towards the door. Right about the same time as I placed my hand on the door Daxx said goodbye.</div>
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“Hey Matt, get some rest you like like shit.” Daxx yelled from behind the bar. I looked back at him and gave a little wave and stepped out of the Drunken Moose. Immediately I was hit with the sounds and smell of Colfax on Saturday night at 10pm. People walking up and down the street, some inebriated and some not. Cars cruising up and down with windows down and bass rattling the side panels. </div>
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Right outside of the bar exactly 20 feet from the door was the usual group of smokers. I reached for my pocket where I normally keep my smokes and it was empty. I walked up to the the one that I knew, Dan who also knew me from when we were roughnecks out by Rifle. “Bum a smoke Dan?” I asked rubbing my hands together out of habit in the cold. </div>
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“Sure man,” Dan replied with a little cloud of condensation as he spoke. I didn’t think it was that cold out but all of the smokers here were alternating between blowing little clouds from smoking or from their breath. Dan held out a cigarette and a lighter. I forgotten that he rolls his own, but since it is Colorado.</div>
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“Normal smoke? I gotta work in a bit.” I asked while reaching. A nod from Dan was all I needed as I put it to my lips and flicked the lighter. Few puffs later and I was one of the group blowing little clouds of smoke on a cold street corner. “Thanks man, I owe you.” I said as I handed him back his lighter.</div>
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“No problem, hey you know any crews hiring near Parachute?” Dan quickly asked as he always did. Me and the guys figured he had a girl on the side that lived out there. I shook my head in reply to his question.</div>
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“Aint been on a crew since the accident.” They all nodded their head in reply to my comment. I guess I’m a popular topic of conversation. “Besides its rough work, getting too old, too tired for it.”</div>
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“Meh, you can sleep when you are dead.” Dan joked as he threw the stub of his cigarette to the ground and squashed it with his boot. I wanted to tell him he was wrong but needed to stop at home before I went to work. I thanked him against as I started walking down the sidewalk towards Holly Street. As I walked I pulled my coat tighter around me trying to block out the cold, seemed this winter I was always cold. Maybe it is time for a new jacket. </div>
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At Holly Street and Colfax I turned northward to my house. My mood was getting fouler as I walked. The neighborhood wasn’t designed for every house to have 4 cars. Even if I did still drive I wouldn’t as the streets were tight narrow corridors lined of metal, plastic, glass, and rubber. Again I thanked the cold cause it kept most people indoors so the few parties that were going on stayed within the confines of the house. I passed by the next block shaking my head at the idea of gentrification. This whole street used to be affordable and full of families who took some pride in their street. Now, you get these kids who think it is cool to live in a dump. Then they complain when it is not as clean or pretty as the cookie cutter suburbs. With the cold the sidewalk was mostly clear, I only saw kids who belonged more in Highlands Ranch, Parker, or Vail. Twenty years ago I would have robbed some of them on principal. Give them a story to tell their friends when they meet at Starbucks to compare their BWM’s. </div>
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I got to my place soon enough, built in the 30’s and bought by my parents in the 70’s and then sold in the 80’s. I was able to buy it back with my inheritance in the 90’s. I converted the garage into a little guest house. </div>
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Walking up towards the front door of my place I reached in and snagged the mail. The porch light gave me enough light to figure out which mail was mine and which were my tenants. After taking mine, I placed the remaining letters in the mailbox and went back to the guest house. I unlocked the door and entered quickly, once inside I closed the door and locked it back up; handle, deadbolt, and bar. While the neighborhood has improved it was still as dangerous as when I was younger. </div>
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I turned on a light and threw my mail on the table. It landed with a little slap and slide until it hit some cardboard filing boxes. There would be time later for bills or who ever else was asking me for money. My jacket was removed and hung with care on the back of a chair that went with the table. Then using the chair as support I removed my boots, taking care to not let it wobble too much. Lost one chair a few weeks ago cause the last one wobbled and I fell on it breaking it. With coat and boots off I walked to one of the few other furnishings in my little studio apartment, an old lazy boy chair. While I knew I couldn’t sleep I still found just relaxing in it always made me feel refreshed. Sitting down I reclined and closed my eyes, hoping sleep or something else would finally take me.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04353640467969145616noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-16776687904004969852016-09-22T21:49:00.000-07:002016-09-22T21:51:03.473-07:00Corner of Colfax and Dead - Chapter 2<div class="p1">
Four hours later my alarm went off. I hadn’t fallen asleep but I did zone out some. I’m not sure if it counts as rest or sleep but it is the closest I can get since the accident. It took me a moment to stand as my joint get really stiff when I don’t move for a while. Once I did get up I snagged some leftover chicken wings and a beer. </div>
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I stopped and looked at the beer for a minute before drinking it. One of the things I loved about Colorado was all the small brews and different flavors of beer that I could get to. I didn’t finish the beer and left it sitting open on the counter. Just another thing that damn accident took from me. I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself, gotta go make some money. </div>
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Minute later I was back on Colfax walking westward. Taking big strides as I walked with a purpose I moved swiftly down the road passing various people. Occasionally a scantly clad lady would ask me for a cigarette or if I wanted to warm up. I left my cigarettes at home and no to the other activities. I didn’t want to go to jail and I knew the ladies on this street. The ones who looked scared or desperate were the real deal, the ones who looked like they were fresh from college, well they were usually VICE. Perhaps a twenty years ago I would have been tempted but…</div>
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I picked up my pace trying to cover as much ground as possible. My coat flapping in the night even though there wasn’t a breeze. I didn’t zip it up because the baseball bat would show. Tonight was about sending a message and the baseball bat, Thumper was more than up for the task. At the corner of Colfax and Forest I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. The voice in the back of my mind telling me I should have left sooner</div>
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I felt my breath catch a little and my chest felt tighten, I stopped and leaned against a wall waiting for the feeling to pass. A car passed by me with it’s stereo so loud I couldn’t even make out what was playing aside from the bass thumps. THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! It distracted me from the pain, I’d goto a doc but have had enough of them to last a lifetime. Still not sure what happened, perhaps my old ticker has better taste in music than the driver of the car. Once I felt ok to move I stepped away from the wall and realized it wasn’t a wall, some art statue of a lady holding up a globe. While I appreciate them trying to improve my neighborhood I can’t figure why they would put crap like that up. On the statue someone had already made it anatomically correct using some spray paint. Thirty feet away where the new building ended and the old building next to it stood there was Crazy Joe sitting on the sidewalk sleeping under a pay telephone. Never figured out why he always hung out there but he always begged for some quarters. I reached in my pocket and pulled out a ten dollar roll of quarters that I had picked up earlier after getting paid. </div>
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“Joe. Joe!” I said hoping to wake him up. As he stirred he pushed his hat over his eyes to look at who called his name. Once he realized it was me he smiled.</div>
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“Heeey, Matt. There was a phone call for you the other day. Some guy with a fiery voice said you missed your ride and he wanted to make sure you were still coming over.” Joe said groggily. I glanced at the phone mounted to the building. Wasn’t even sure it still worked but Joe seems to think it did. </div>
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“Here Joe,” I said as I casually tossed the roll of quarters to him. He caught it easily and smiled. “If anyone else calls for me tell them they can leave me a message at my house number.” </div>
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“I will, thank you Matt. Now I can call my Sally.” Joe jumped up and broke open the roll of quarters. He immediately lifted the receiver to his ear, put two quarters in the machine, and started punching numbers. I had seen him talk on that phone in passing but never anyone else. Couldn’t hear anything from it and I was pretty sure it was not functional. Still for ten bucks I just bought that man a brief moment of happiness in his life. I smiled as I continued walking away from him as he waited for someone to pick up the line. </div>
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Once I got within block of my destination I slowed my pace down to a casual stroll. Didn’t want scare her, just wanted to deliver a message. In front of a music venue, can’t remember the name of it, theres a bunch along Colfax these days she stood. She stood out in front of the place a guitar strapped to her back as she talked to a bunch of younger looking people around her. Light brown skin and jet black hair streaked with a dozen different colored steaks of reds, blues, greens, and yellows. With her faced away from me I walked in the street. The cars had plenty of room and most were used to sharing the street as the sidewalks would get packed around the bars and music venues. Walking in the street also allowed parked cars to provide cover for me as I got closer. I worked my way through the crowd looking through a forest of teenagers as I worked my way closer.</div>
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To her left leaning against a light pole a few feet away from her I saw a guard, big guy probably six three standing against the building looking around. I don’t think he was a professional as he would have saw me coming from a mile away otherwise. Probably one of the few times my short height works out to my advantage. Since he didn’t I was able to get behind her without either of them realizing it. She must have sensed a presence behind her as she started to turn around right as I was reaching into my jacket. A look of shock and anger quickly filled her face once she saw who I was. </div>
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“Get the FUCK away from me.” She said loudly and took a step backwards. Her guard also took action and started moving towards me. I had already pulled what was in my jacket pocket out and thrust it at her neck so she would be forced to move her hands up to prevent getting a paper cut. As I jabbed the envelope at her she grabbed it and I let go.</div>
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“Buy yourself a new guitar and call your grandma, she would love to hear you sing.” I growled as I quickly turned around and stared walking away. The crowd got louder as people were trying to figure out what was happening. It was already over but I did hear her shout a warning at me.</div>
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“You can’t buy my love Dad!” she yelled behind me. What she didn’t know is that I wasn’t trying to, I was trying to buy forgiveness. Walking away as quickly as I could without drawing more attention to me. As soon as I got near a corner I turned and then picked up my pace even more. I know deep down inside that she will still hate me, but at least I know she won’t be one of those scared and desperate women trying to make enough money on the streets to live in a cheap room 50 feet from where they ply their trade on Colfax. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04353640467969145616noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-62738189491684961002016-09-22T21:48:00.003-07:002016-09-23T11:28:30.250-07:00Corner of Colfax and Dead - Chapter 3<div class="p1">
Working my way through the residential area I made my towards City Park. I had an appointment with a young lady there at dawn. When I last spoke to her she had been scared and wanted to make sure meeting with me would be safe. We both figured dawn at City park Sunday morning would be safe. All the junkies and thugs would be asleep and hopefully everyone else would be asleep. Once I arrived at City Park I found some trees away from the road that would be strong enough for me to hide in. </div>
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After leaning against the tree for a minute and making sure no one was watching or at least looking in my direction, I left upwards. When I was younger I played basketball as everyone in my neighborhood did. When I stopped growing at 5’8 I kept trying to play. Spent years working on perfecting my jump shot and my vertical to make up for my stature. Even in my old age and condition my jump vertical is still pretty good. I left up and caught a branch about ten feet off the ground. Quickly pulling myself up I got comfortable. Getting here a few hours early allowed me time to get a feel of the park and watch the night life wind down. I had been coming here for the past few days sitting in different trees on the south side to get used to the rhythm. I knew who went jogging, about which dogs were walked, who got up early to goto work, and the police patrols. </div>
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I leaned back and watched as I replayed the events leading up to this meeting in my mind. I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Before the accident my mind wasn’t that sharp but my memory was good. Now, my mind is a little slower but the memory still works… </div>
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“Hey Matt, there is some gal looking for you.” Daxx called down to me as I was finishing my fourth beer. It had been a tough day as I had spent most of it helping some friends transfer some goods from one trailer to another. Why one would move a truck load of goods from one working trailer to another? Well I do not ask questions like that. I looked towards Daxx to see if he was giving any indication as to where the lady was at. He was pointing towards a table in back. I looked at the nervous looking young lady trying to sitting elegantly at the table and gave Daxx a thumbs up indicating message received. Her light skin and blond hair made her look like a cheerleader from some 90’s film. I wondered if her dad dropped her off in the beamer. </div>
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Standing up I moved over towards the table and stood next to an open chair. “My name is Matt, mind if I sit?” I asked the lady sitting there. She was taking a sip of a glass of wine, it was after she finished she spoke. </div>
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“Have a seat please.” Her voice reminded me of a phone sex operator. Heavy and velvety, I wasn’t expecting that from a her. “You must be Matt.” She continued as I took a seat across from her.</div>
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“I am, Daxx said you asked about me?” I was worried she was after money though usually a collection agent doesn’t go searching for you at a bar. “Look if you are after money I aint got any.” She laughed at this, the type of laugh that was a gift of pure joy wrapped in sex. Before the accident it would have made my heart race and blood boil, I almost felt the same effects out of habit. </div>
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“Oh, no I’m not looking for money. I have a problem and a mutual friend said you helped her.” She replied and flashed me a secretive smile.</div>
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“This friend of yours what did I do for her?” I asked to give me time to think, if word was getting around of my abilities I may start attracting attention. The wrong people asking some questions and suddenly my second chance at life becomes a long stint in prison or buried out in a cornfield. </div>
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“Oh you found her ex husband’s new address and name so she could get child support payments.” She whispered as she leaned in as if it was a secret. I remembered that job, tracking down some loser who had a million dollar home up in Estes Park but wasn’t paying his $600 a month child support. Relief must have showed on my face as she smiled again that secretive smile and leaned back. “I take it you do not like to advertise.” </div>
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“I have some enemies who think I’m dead, I wish for them to continue that delusion.” I told her as I pulled out a little notepad and a pencil from an inner pocket. “Two hundred a day, minimum three days, if I have an expense I cannot recoup I’ll provide an itemized list at the end. Expenses that are more than fifty dollars I get your approval beforehand.” I wasn’t sure how much a private eye charged but the last job for her friend I didn’t state an amount and thats about what she paid me. It wasn’t the six figured I used to make as a driller but it was better than the current jobs around. </div>
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“Agreed, I can’t meet you here again though, and I can’t have you call my cell. My husband Sergei Tsepov is a good man but a little protective of me.” Her voice lowered as she said her husbands name. I almost missed it and was silent for a minute as my brain started processing the information. When the light finally powered back on I started to stand up.</div>
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“I can’t work for your husband, I think he would probably kill me for even talking to you.” I told her as I stood up, she quickly put a hand on mine and gave me a look that would have broke my heart.</div>
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“Please, he has nothing to do with this. I would hire someone legitimately but I do not want him to know about it.” She quickly said and I glanced around the bar, no one was looking towards us so I sat back down.</div>
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“Why not just tell him and have his guys do whatever is needed?” I asked looking for an angle to get out of this.</div>
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“Because he would kill my brother.” She sighed and took a moment to compose herself. “My brother Takahiro and Sergei would kill each other on sight. I need to make sure he is safe and not in trouble.” What she said made some sense, Sergei was the type of guy to bury problems. </div>
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“I gotta up my rate then, three hundred a day. Also you don’t look Japanese, is he a half brother?” I said as I crossed out the 200$/day on the notepad and wrote 300$/day, then flipped to another page and wrote Takahiro at the top.</div>
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“No, he just really liked Anime when he was younger and legally changed his name once he turned 18.” She shook her head a little as she pulled out a small purse and set it on the table. From there she produced a couple of pictures of a clean cut young man. She pushed them towards me and opened a checkbook.</div>
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“No checks, sorry, I don’t have a bank account.” I started to say but she kept on writing. Then once she was finished she handed me a cashiers check payable to cash for a local credit union. </div>
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“This will be accepted anywheres. It is payment for 3 days up front. I’ll give you a weeks worth when we meet next and hopefully you will find him by then.” </div>
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“As for the meeting place, I need you to start jogging each morning, is City Park close to where you live?”</div>
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“Its a mile or two but ok, why jogging?”</div>
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“Its good for your health and if someone is tailing you it makes it difficult. I’m hoping after a week of jogging they will stop tailing you and just wait for you to finish the jog.”</div>
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“Alright, City Park, what time next Monday?”</div>
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“Actually if you can 5am Sunday morning, I’ll be near some trees on the south east side and I’ll start jogging with you.” </div>
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“Five in the fucking morning!” she said loudly, if the bar wasn’t mostly empty I’m sure it would have gotten few heads turned towards us. </div>
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“Yeah, 5am on a Sunday morning, usually people are still drunk, sleeping, or too tired to give a damn.” I smiled as I said this, as the early meeting place would help protect my identity and will help ensure she was committed to this. I also informed her that if she needed to contact me she could leave a note and a twenty with Daxx and I’ll get the note. </div>
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“Just find my brother quickly and make sure he is safe, I fear he is or will be in trouble.” She said as she stood up to leave. I nodded, shook her hand, and then watched her walk away towards the door of the bar. Dear God, if things were any different I’m certain I would have killed if she had asked it. Even now I am not sure if I would refuse a request like that from her. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04353640467969145616noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-18806684276343228012013-12-13T20:49:00.003-08:002013-12-13T20:49:22.897-08:00So it ends. Nothing major just another class of college. I hope that I pass but even if I didn't pass I hope I have gained enough from it to make it worth while. While I cannot accurately judge that assessment yet I can hope. A few complaints on some parts but over all taking online classes has been a good experience. However for the next class I plan on taking a in person version instead of the online course. It would be interesting while now allowing me the freedom and flexibility that I currently have with the online classes. I do not know if I'll keep writing in here. Maybe the new class Eng 122 will require it too. Time will tell and until then tootles.Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-50917922476379984402013-12-06T11:54:00.000-08:002013-12-06T11:54:56.995-08:00Just isn't write. <br />
<br />
One of the things I had hoped going to college would do would be to encourage or get me to write more. So far it hasn't really happened. By writing I mean production of fictional content. Completing class assignments has been difficult enough as I wonder if I have lost my creativity. Even this blog lacks when you compared it to what I pumped out previously. My crutch in the past was to use pain as a motivator for writing. Even when it was self induced through self harm. Now that I am not depressed nor am I cutting myself the creativity appears to have fled. Perhaps it never was really mean producing all that, perhaps it was from the demon attached to my back. I should be glad to be rid of it as I am content and happy however that does not fit or align with my desire of being a writer. Now it seems I was looking for an easy crutch or something to help but English Classes has not provided that. Perhaps I just need more time and effort. That I do not know.Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-26211535198823649812013-11-20T12:58:00.003-08:002013-11-20T12:58:49.002-08:00Book of MormanSo I got to see finally Book of Morman in the theatre. It made me think about religion and being able to laugh or view satire of something you believe in. The musical does mock the Morman religion but I think in general it mocks all religions. You could easily take the story of Joseph Smith and its quirks and compare it to any time in the old testament where God asked his followers to prove their faith. Yes the plates of gold that no one saw is a odd point but that could be applied to other stories and fables as well. As one of the songs in the musical covered "Mormans just believe" is a great statement for any follower of faith. You have to make that initial leap of faith and believe in the religion. Sure to those who are unable or unwilling to make that leap of faith on the outside it does appear comical or odd but once you make that leap you just believe. <br />
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The Church of Jesus Christ and Latter day Saints disliked and publicly disapproved of the musical. I think instead they should celebrate it. The same way some Jew's view fiddler on a roof showing a slice of life and idiosyncrasy of their faith I think the Morman church should embrace the musical. Sure there are moments it mocks and views the things satirically. However it does correctly show how some bright eyed some religious followers go out and preach the word as if it would solve all the problems. The word of God doesn't solve all the worlds problems, it is a guide to show you how you should act and behave while solving problems. The Bible doesn't cover what to do when you lose health insurance or hundreds of real world problems. <br />
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We are created in God's image and humor is something that is shared among all of mankind. Sure we all have different flavors of it but everyone appreciates a good joke if they get it. How can we not view that perhaps our diety also has a sense of humor. It may be Ironic humor or long story form humor but hey I am sure God can take a joke. If God can why cannot we. Laugh at your religion, laugh at yourself, and be able to laugh at the world in general. Who knows by being able to laugh and perhaps see things a little differently it may strengthen your faith. For if what you believe in is destroyed by a joke then did you really believe in it?Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-43337320848449478742013-11-03T21:03:00.001-08:002013-11-03T21:03:20.803-08:00As one could see from reading the history of this blog I used to write a lot. Perhaps a lot is not a good way to phrase that. I used to unleash a flood of words and letters upon a blank canvas that is my monitor. It was one of my ways of dealing with life and other things. I think a part of me still associates writing with those darker times in my memory. Making just blind writing difficult. There are times that I try to write and I encounter a wall that blocks so much where I can't even come up with anything besides "I cannot come up with anything so I am going to keep repeating this sentence until something appears." One can wish for sunlight during nighttime but all the wishing will not make it happen. I wish I could simply write like I did when I was younger. I know the writings are not that great but writing garbage is better than not writing at all. However not being depressed is so much better than being able to write regardless of how frustrating it can be for class. Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-15872157098688135682013-10-20T20:28:00.007-07:002013-10-20T20:28:54.753-07:00Perception is reality, reality is perception. If you perceive something like your spouse cheating on you the facts of it being false becomes irrelevant. I trust my wife with my heart and my life. I know she would not cheat on me. Her faithfulness I do not doubt. I see friends and coworkers struggle with jealously and I wonder if somehow I just did not get that gene? Perhaps I am the fool or too self assured that my reality is I can trust her. Until I perceive myself as the fool I guess there is nothing to be worried about.Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-63839989184510052292013-10-13T13:38:00.001-07:002013-10-13T13:38:00.480-07:00<div class="MsoNormal">
How do I find someone to interview that ties to my “I
believe”. This is the question I have
struggled with for the past few days.
Not many people I know really follow the belief. The best I can come up with is find someone
who is strong and take some of how they react and show how it can be part of my
belief. Perhaps that is the goal to challenge
me to find someone who is close and show that I can tie that to something else.
Here goes everything.<o:p></o:p></div>
Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-73896919445928365732013-10-07T18:39:00.001-07:002013-10-13T13:38:17.215-07:00It is interesting on how we apply human aspects to mechanical devices. My TiVo stopped working today and my first thought was a good bye old friend. Now I'm trying to revive it and thinking of all the shows it introduced me to and the times it allowed my wife and I to share a TV show together without having to worry about the fact it was on when one of us was at work. I am sure others are as guilty as I am and like me apply it to so many other devices. Begging my car to start or feeling alone when my friend the smart phone stops working or has no power. Are we searching for connection and so desperate that we will look everywhere possible but ignore that which is in front of us. So needy of a friend we consult inanimate objects and apply characteristics to them while ignoring the people around us. My friend the computer always willing to listen to me even when I'm annoyed with my wife. Rarely interrupting and willing to take whatever crap I throw at it. Marry me oh bundle of ones and zero's, marry me you sexy pile of silicon, marry me for you know me better than anyone else. Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-10683979747014120372013-09-29T22:28:00.002-07:002013-09-29T22:28:26.584-07:00In taking an English class I encounter the typical thing in the text book. It tells you to keep writing and ignore your internal critic. Its a difficult thing when I do not have necessarily an internal critic. I am my critic. Even when the little voice inside says meh it could be better I had often just scrapped the idea. One month for National Novel Writing Month I started writing a story. I got to 8,000 words or so before I scrapped it. It was a good idea about how suicide effects many people around and sometimes it isn't just 1 life that it destroys. I was rereading part of it as a quick proof read and I realized this story sucked. I wasted a huge amount of time on it. I don't have that time to waste anymore. The textbook tells you to keep writing and even write that you cannot think of anything to write. Write about your day, breakfast, the color of the walls. After 10 minutes of writing about nothing what does it accomplish besides wasting time. I can understand it is a learning exercise in order to get the word flow going but I find writing from muse so much easier and better for content quality. I could be wrong as I have no books published and these teachers have probably lots of things published or at least fully completed.<br />
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It is hard to change habits formed from years of listening to your own ego.<br />
<br />Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-78791665505681322762013-09-18T19:03:00.002-07:002013-09-22T21:25:40.647-07:00I play role playing games. Sometimes I even run a Dungeons and Dragons game. I find it helps me think creatively and work on character interactions. So when I'm writing a story I may put my friends in the position I have a character in to see if they react the same or differently. While my friends wont have the same motives it helps me see a different perspective for my fictional characters. At times it is weird because I can throw together a few hundred words on the fly for something random but will struggle when I try writing with a goal. So much of my writings are pieces put together with a little bit of glue and prayer rather than something I wrote as a single stream. Perhaps that is how most writers work but I always envisioned it as being set upon by a muse and after a few hours you have 20 pages or so written. Will classes help me in this? Yes it would however currently I'm taking just the English 121 class and then 122 it will probably be a year or so before I can do creative writing or have time for it since they do not offer it online.Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-46265997159766567432013-09-15T21:28:00.002-07:002013-09-15T21:29:57.311-07:00What does one believe in?<br />
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There are probably hundreds of little belief's that fit within your life. It could start as something simple like "No limits" perhaps even something creative like "Don't be a Dick". Religion, upbringing, media, and books help form the basic parts but it is self discovery that should lead you to your own creed. In the journey through life not many ask what you believe and it is usually only actions that speak it. Sometimes actions are screaming it to the world and other times it is a whisper. What hinders it is self deception. We so want to be better than what we are or at least believe we are better than what we are that self deception blocks us from attaining our goal. Perhaps the best credo/creed could simply be, "honesty and know thy self".Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-9389851044579661692013-09-05T22:09:00.001-07:002013-09-05T22:09:44.081-07:00<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
My wife and I have two cats. Toku and Yuki are their
names. Yuki is the one I picked because at PetSmart he was an active
kitty eager to play around. Toku is the one my wife picked because she
fell for him due to he only has 3 legs. His left rear is cut off a little
bit above where the knee would be. Toku was a poor little cat that hid
and seemed afraid of everyone and everything. Three years now we still
have both cats and there is a lesson in marketing here.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> The
general idea of marketing is to sell a product to someone by making them
believe their life or job will be better because of it. You want to appeal to a persons desires. I desired a cat that was active that I could
play around with. Yuki was those
things. He would chase after a pet mouse
and very active at the store. Once we
got him home and settled in suddenly he became a lazy cat wanting nothing more
than to sit in a window and sleep. Toku
surprisingly was the more playing cat once he got comfortable with us. That is marketing in a simple form Yuki sold
us on him being something which was not true and Toku who either unwittingly or
deviously crafted act sold us on the “Poor sad little kitty with 3 legs”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> We
are happy with both but sometimes I look and wonder how did I get fooled and
end up with a “fancy” lazy cat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6409003.post-78189568515303530152013-09-03T18:41:00.001-07:002013-09-03T18:41:44.677-07:00<div class="MsoNormal">
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‘Every day is the chance the change the story” A song lyric
that I came across when looking for new music.
It is interesting on how this simple line can sum up so much. Even within the confines of writing it fits
perfectly. It is simple, each day you affect change upon reality. Made up realitys are not exempt from this
either. That story you write 10 years
ago you can revise it so the main character is a diabolical genius instead of
the accidental superhero. While changing
a story or bit of writing is much different than changing your life it is often
the smallest beginnings that great things spring forth. Remember all trees massive and tall started
off as a single seed.<o:p></o:p></div>
Edwardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00257205186752584481noreply@blogger.com