LET WALKING DO THE IMAGINATION

I’m thoroughly enjoying the Metatron’s Army reboot project.  It not only gives me insight into how my writing style has evolved, it gives me a chance to check whether the plans I have for future books in this series make sense.

I’m happy to say they do!

I’ll admit it was frustrating to discover errors I’d corrected previously had somehow wound up in the versions that were published.  

I even lost an entire section I’d added.

I’m still in the process of investigating how the sync’ing error happened.

Rereading has provided insight into my creative process, albeit primarily with respect to this series.  Many scenes bring back memories of where I was and what I was doing while coming up with them.  

Good memories.

Several have one thing in common:  I was walking while creating.

A number of the scenes were created while I was on a treadmill, going as far back as 1998 living in Michigan. Others were done while I walked outside.

Especially at the Cranbrook Institute which inspired more than one scene in the MA series.

As I thought over the various places I’ve lived and walked I realized that a number of my non-Metatron’s Army projects came about while I was walking.

After moving to the west, most of that walking was done outdoors.

  • The Kerry’s Game/Psi Adventure Series was conceived while I was living downtown San Francisco

Though much of the secondary location – AZ – was inspired from when I lived in Scottsdale and would drive to Tucson for research and pleasure.

  • Soothsayer was conceived while I walked in triple digit temps during a Scottsdale summer.

Though I published Port in a Storm first, that book was conceived years later,  while people watching at KEXP in Seattle.

  • Mirror was conceived on a walk along the Embarcadero in San Diego.

Though the idea for the Ghost Games series – of which Mirror was originally the first – was planted as I was walking down the stairwell of the building I was living in Downtown San Diego.

It’s been a long time since I’ve used walking as a way to stimulate creativity.

I’d swapped to playing Free Cell as it put me in a meditative state ideal for incubating projects.  Having uninstalled it several weeks ago, however, I see the need to reconsider walking.

It isn’t as critical to this current reboot project but it will certainly help as I move forward with the next.

Especially as I’ve resolved the question of Prologue V. Chapter One!

But first things first, an enjoyable memory walk through the process of creating.

Have a great weekend!

BRINGING LIFE TO THE WRITER

Note:  This post is lengthy.

Listening to UltraVox’s A Friend I Call Desire and working on a fiction project.

Also working on Project Happy.

Andddd….

Making my way through that basket.  

I have work to do!  I need to get some of the crap in there out.

Thanks to a series of events, one leading to the next, I had a very helpful flash of insight.

While listening to the playlist I created for the nonfiction project and staring, more or less unfocused, at a very cool image in my workspace.

I wrote previously that I no longer have Free Cell at my disposal – the MacOS doesn’t like it.

Or would that be the universe telling me to ditch it because it’s a crutch I no longer need?

Tired of having my system lock up because of it I just deinstalled the game.

That it locked up while I was working on my manuscripts?  A message I think.

I tried other Free Cell games from the app store but they all resulted in the system locking up.

Always while I was in MS Word working on a book.

I have not had one problem since de-installing the game.

Message received.

The insight was accompanied by a wonderful feeling; a feeling that immediately mapped to an image, from when I was with my dad in So Cal.

Both when I was a teen after my parents divorced (Downey, CA) and then later (Norwalk, CA) when I visited while waiting for my Sunnyvale Apartment to be ready to move into.

What each of those times have in common, along with a third non-California image, are that I was incredibly prolific in fiction.

I kicked out books in weeks while staying with him.  That second time?  I finished a book I’d been working on for years but had set aside – in a week.

Obviously, there’s something about the place.

That was the point.

Something I will be writing about in the upcoming nonfiction project.

Hint:  It has to do with geologic EMFs.

There’s a point to this.

Understanding I was being given important information I focused on that wonderful feeling.

Specifically, why had it been so long since I’ve felt it?

Fortunately, in remembering it I was able to feel it again.  

It means I’m capable still.  The potential hasn’t been ripped out – by life.

Deep diving into what happened between then and now I came to see that certain events – and the individuals behind them – put a serious dent in my dreams.

These events happened in my early 20s; some during the Corporate Black Hole era.

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing.

There’s a scene in Metatron’s Legacy, one character talking with another:

“And the Iconoclast took advantage of that fear, crushed your hope by playing into it.  He crushed your dreams by exploiting your fear.  That’s what evil does, exploits your dreams, turns them against you, convinces you they can never come to be even as they lie and tell you they will help you make them happen.”

I was able to write this scene because I’m all too familiar with the elements in it, having been on the receiving end of it both in and out of the Corporate Black Hole.

I had more dreams than just being a successful fiction writer.

This issue was sitting in the basket, not too far from the bottom.  It’s an item I didn’t realize was taking up so much space though I was aware of it.

I  knew someday I’d have to address it.

Knowing the what isn’t the same as knowing how.

Though I have a couple of ideas.  More music?  Definitely.

Not Alone.

It helps that I don’t have to pull this off on my own.

The universe obviously wanted me to deal with the crap in the basket that isn’t mine. 

A number of random recent emails and/or texts have been tools to deal with the situation.

It isn’t just friends.

Readers have been in my corner as well, something I am truly grateful for.

Patience and understanding with all those web changes?  Switchbacks as I make my way forward?

Ironic – as I’m writing this? The lyrics “…but I’ll never betray your trust…” from Angel Mine by the Cowboy Junkies are coming over the headphones.  It is trust between writer and reader.

Something I’ve worked not to betray.

To give you an idea how eclectic this particular list is, I’m now listening to Army of Me by Bjork.

I also have Cracker, Blue Oyster Cult, Breaking Benjamin, Gary Numan, and Ultravox on this particular list.

This item is one of the slimier icky things in the basket.

With roots that spiderwebbed their way into other items also in the basket.

It’ll take a bit of finesse to deal with it.

The Plan.

A big part of the resolution is simply emptying the basket of what isn’t mine.  For the most part this consists of labels, judgments, and/or other items that do not properly reflect reality.

Deepak Chopra does an excellent job articulating this concept when he writes about how so many labels are put on us like so many coats on a rack. 

It directly ties into the challenge of how I organize my writing, both with genre and on the website.

How do I do justice to all the facets of me as a writer?

Where did this come from?

Well…

It was in the basket.

Why now?

Several months ago I made a Feng Shui tweak that set this all in motion.

And my head’s been spinning ever since.

And now?

The plan is to keep going forward.  I have a lot of projects in various states of completion.  My objective?  Get them completed!

Where do I put this?

That’s the question, isn’t it?

Still.

I have a couple of ideas I’m tossing around.  In order to give them context I need to reprint a nonfiction book I’d pulled.

Because I couldn’t figure out where to put it in the catalogue!

It’s a book on surviving child abuse.

I remember, all too well, the giant silence after I released it in 2013.

The Silent Ones.

I was so unnerved by the cosmic silence that Aaron made a point to use science to help out.

He explained that it was simply a case of action/reaction.  I’d sent energy into the universe.  It took time for the reaction.

He also explained that though people may not comment, it didn’t mean they had a negative reaction.

He called them the Silent Ones.

It helped me get through those early weeks when there was nothing but silence, though a few people did reach out in support, including one guy who said, “You let them off easy.”

I told him, “Yeah, well there are a lot of innocents who have nothing to do with this and I don’t want them pulled into it.”

I also didn’t want to feed the ghouls who gorge on this kind of drama.

I still don’t but I have a plan.

What Else?

I’m still working!

I wrote scripts today for videos providing insight into the writing of Dragon Core and Metatron’s Army.  They will be available soon.

Stay tuned.

BRINGING A STORY TO LIFE: CONTAGIOUS JOY

Note:  This article is a nod to the couple at the Hella Mega tour whose energy was infectious and inspiring!

After weeks of almost nonstop work I was looking forward to getting a break at the Hella Mega show.  

The weather was perfect, the atmosphere around the stadium mellow yet festive, the bands way cool.

It turns out the show was not only an opportunity to relax, it was a chance to confirm a few facts.

In other words, work.

As I’m in the process of releasing a book that’s part of the World of EMF it makes sense that at least part of my focus was on how I was feeling in a stadium filled with technology.  As I sat listening to Wheezer, looking up at a blue sky, I realized I felt completely 100% normal for the first time in I don’t remember.

The psychological toll EMF Sensitivity can take on a person means that even after physical symptoms are gone there’s a bit of PTSD to deal with.

I looked around at the sheer number of cell phones, the stage setup, thought of all the tech at the food and beverage stands and the fact that being in downtown Seattle, I was exposed to a lot of WiFi including 5G,  And yet I felt totally fine.

Rather than return to my seat after eating I decided to enjoy the show from a higher perch where I could do some people watching.

One of a writer’s favorite activities.

I took in the energy of the place, the ages of the fans, noting how many cross-generational groups there were and how cool that was in terms of bringing people together for fun.  

Sanity Check.  Though I’d been enjoying myself I kept taking an internal pulse as if I couldn’t believe how good and how normal I felt.  Recognizing this might become a bit too distracting and I’d actually stop enjoying myself if I wasn’t careful I tried to redirect my focus to just enjoying the music.

Health Check.  The sun hadn’t even set when the stadium became filled with thousands of cell phone lights.  Unfortunately, as cool as it was, it was a reminder that there was a time not long ago I couldn’t have been in such an environment without being sick. 

The thought definitely distracted me from the show.

After acknowledging this truth I again confirmed I felt completely fine and tried to redirect my focus to the music.

Fun Check.  Well the universe must have been listening because the next thing I know my focus was on the most enthusiastic couple I have seen in decades.  

Not since the H. O. R. D. E. Festival at Pine Knob.

Standing not far from me they  held hands while they danced, periodically looking at each other with smiles that rivaled the cell phones in lighting up the space.  

The joy just spilled out of them.

Reality Check.  A most interesting thing happened.  Like with the cell phone lights, seeing their energy and enthusiasm, their pure joy at being alive and being together – connected to the joy of thousands of others – I again became aware of how normal I felt only this time instead of bringing my focus back to EMF Sensitivity it took me to  that same joy.

The joy of being connected to thousands gathered for fun, the joy of being connected to happiness.

With that energy going through me I saw the musicians in a new light, taking in not only the energy with which they moved around the stage but the happiness they radiated.

They were very happy to be there.

I then noted the happiness of the stadium guy standing at the top of the aisle where my seat was, of the woman who poured a cabernet for me, of the couples sitting at the tables throughout the Club Level where I was standing.

The couple continued dancing, smiling, sharing their joy with any and all who might be close enough to see them.

Trust me, it was contagious.  I saw lots and lots of smiles after people caught sight of them.

In addition to feeling the happiness I was treated to another bonus being near them, inspiration. 

A creative’s best friend.

Not one to miss an opportunity to write I pulled out my phone and typed notes that will find their way into an upcoming Port Gallatan story.  Just like the World of EMF and the Hella Mega experience, it will be a story with a happy ending.

Stay tuned.

As a result of new information gained by going to the concert I will be adding content to the upcoming book Ignoring the Rules: An Intriguing Approach to Resolving Calcium Toxicity. This will push the release date.

BRINGING A STORY TO LIFE: SOURCE

Enjoying a bit of peace and quiet and a much cooler morning.  It got so hot during our heat wave that our food processor bowl melted while in use.  The round area that has the blade come through is now oblong. 

 I loved hearing Aaron say, “Oh, that’s why it sounded so funny.”

I was listening to music through headphones at the time and missed all that audio fun.  Thankfully, we live in a time when you can get replacement parts easily; you don’t have to buy an entirely new appliance.

As I listen to the sounds of the morning which include enough wildlife I sometimes feel I live in a zoo, I’m mentally sorting through projects in the queue.   It isn’t just that there are a number of possibilities it’s the order in which they should be done. 

Temporal Awareness.  At the start of the pandemic shutdown I wrote about what it felt like having my temporal awareness turned on its ear.  

As someone who already worked from home the inability to have any contact with the outside world for months on end was surreal.

I channeled that frustration into writing making it one of the more prolific times of my writing career.

I finished Beacon, Rainmaker, Mirror, and Redemption among other projects in a span of about three months. 

It came at a cost.

Burnout.

I know that work burnout was a common problem during the pandemic.  I read several articles in which people talked about the effects of being shut in or – if they couldn’t work from home – being completely overwhelmed.  And yet I couldn’t relate.

Career burnout wasn’t my burnout.

It took until yesterday to understand that my burnout was related but different.  It wasn’t career burnout so much as life burnout. 

 As someone who has worked from home for twenty-seven years, other than a period of incredible productivity, it wasn’t my career that was impacted.

Outside acknowledging the challenges of going from minimal outside interaction to none, I never considered the impact of total lockdown on my life outside my career.

Work Front and Center.  There was a cost to the constant attention on work from home in our community and in the world.  It hid the impact of what was happening outside that construct.

When you’re so busy focusing on making something work you can miss all the areas of your life that are being starved of critical energy.

 Missing the Signs.  Because my productivity  was not negatively impacted  I missed warning signs that not all was well.  Or, if I did sense something wrong I simply channeled it into my work, exacerbating the problem.

Open Is Closed.  Regardless of the state of the states I still work from home.  Thanks to the delta variant and other unknowns it’s business as usual as far as the pandemic is concerned.

Masks, social distancing, and good health habits.

This lack of real change and the knowledge that it will likely remain so for the foreseeable future had me turning to my de facto approach, writing.

Excuse Me.  An interesting thing happened.  Somehow the message from the nonwork areas of my life that were suffering got to the productivity camp and, as you can predict, everything shut down.

Few things cause panic for an author.  Writer’s block is one of them.

Because my attention was on the impact to my productivity I missed that the symptoms had nothing to do with writing.

There was no writer’s block.

Ignoring the symptoms since I didn’t map them to nonwork issues, I continued focusing on my career.

It never occurred to me it was soul burnout related to the pandemic.

Meet Me Halfway.  Apparently, my higher self has a clue.  It figured out I’m going to double down on the creative outlet as a coping mechanism – something I’ve done my whole life – so it plugged into that part of the energy spectrum.  This led to a series of “coincidences” that got the message through.

That while my body and mind were doing just fine, my spiritual health was in need of some serious TLC.

The Edge of Nowhere.  I decided to work with Event Horizon which does an amazing job of pulling me out of myself so I can solve issues unhindered by “noise.”  Sure enough I started to see where energy blocks were having a negative impact.  As with all Event Horizon sessions, a number of solutions were offered to address the situation.

I Can’t Hear You.  It was during one of the better sessions that I realized that while I gave myself suggestions to address issues I wasn’t following up.  I kept setting the stuff aside for later after which I would go back to writing.  Luckily for me, this time I listened.

One Thing Feeds Another.  As I followed through on the suggestions I was inspired to go back and do another EH session during which more insight was gained and more suggestions given.  This went on for a few days and I noticed those other energy blocks began to dissolve.

In some cases I didn’t even realize there was a block until it was gone.

Helping Hand.  I continued working with Event Horizon and continued to follow through on the suggestions and continued to see improvements including subtle messages from the universe that helped me on my way.  And then a funny thing happened.  The messages became not so subtle.  In fact, they got downright direct.

Read My Lips.  The universe has a fun way of getting the message across and I’ve long known that when we ignore the messages, they get louder. 

This isn’t always a good thing.

In this case the increased volume was relatively harmless.  A book that had appeared in my sphere of awareness months ago reappeared.  This time I paid attention and bought it.  I also got an email from a dear friend, the right words at the right time.  Interestingly, both sources had the same message

Don’t forget the basics!

It was through each of these messages I realized that in all the chaos I had forgotten to nurture my own spirituality.

I was so busy being there for everyone and everything else I forgot to be there for this.

Energy In Bloom.  As I read the book and did the exercises which included relaxation, meditation, visualization, grounding, I found the creative whispering increasing in volume.

The voice of the source – what goes into bringing a story to life.

Bruised But Healing.  When you are a creative, to create is to feed the soul. The worst thing that can happen is to turn off the spigot but just as damaging, as I’ve learned, is to turn it on full blast. I believe my soul understands this now. I recognize the need to find other ways to nurture that soul.  Especially when the avenues open to me are cut off by lockdown.

BRINGING A STORY TO LIFE: IN THE MOOD

Timing isn’t always everything.  

I’ve spent the past week doing some serious multi-tasking and as things seemed to have settled down a bit I set my energies to finishing a scene I’d set aside because it isn’t the type of scene I wanted to work on while distracted.

An intimacy scene.

So much for best laid plans.  I’d no sooner gotten started when I got a text from the dentist with links to forms that needed filling out.  

I can honestly say the dentist doesn’t bring to mind the energies of romance or intimacy.

Finished with that I took a break to get a snack which reminded me I needed to come up with an idea for dinner.  Finished with that I set back to work on the scene when I got another text asking me to review a web change.

Not happy with the image I explained what needed to change then went back to the scene.  Andddd… another text regarding a separate dental form.

Back to the scene and – another text with the updated web image.  That one needed a slight tweak so I spent some time on that.  Happy with how it turned out I sat down to work on the scene only to find I’d lost the romance energy thread.  

Like seriously?

Amused I decided I would give readers a glimpse of how it might go for a writer in a typical day.

It is an entertaining consideration – all these interruptions – but the post does serve another purpose.  In putting it down on paper, the distraction – the idea of it – is no longer in my mind.

NOW I can go back to the scene!

The Day Before, a Dragon Core story is on track for an Autumn 2021 release.

Stay tuned!

DAY IN THE LIFE OF A WRITER

Note: This article is lengthy.

Just finishing lunch and trying to mentally engage with a specific project.

I’ve been trying for the past six or so hours.

I’m not concerned as for once in a long while there’s no deadline to meet and more I know what I need to do and even have the project started.  It’s just turning into one of those days where I’m meandering my way forward.

As opposed to running.

My mind wandered back to a day many moons ago, a day that pops into my consciousness quite a bit.

Ever since the shutdown last March.

Long before everything was shut down I attended a presentation at a Marine Center that was cohosted by the US Navy.  I struck up a brief conversation with a teen girl whose family was sitting at the same table.  After complimenting her on her presentation I asked what she liked to do.  Her answer?  “I like to write.”

I remember smiling big time at that and telling her “I’m a writer.”

She smiled just as big.

I asked her what kind of writing she liked to do.

At this point I became aware of her parents definitely focused on the conversation.

She told me she liked to write stories to which I explained that’s what I do.  I then spent a few minutes encouraging her to write with a specific caveat.  Follow your heart.

I went on to explain there would be times she would have to write papers she didn’t want to write about subjects that may bore her, but that they were important to her education as a writer.

All writing is practice.

I wound the conversation down by encouraging her to follow her heart – her inner guidance – as it would never steer her wrong.

I also told her to keep writing.

I often wonder what possessed me to speak to this girl.  My stomach was in knots almost the entire time.

Who was I to offer advice?  Oh, that’s right – a writer!

My mind drifts back to that young woman in these days of isolation and I think about how much she is missing by not being able to participate in that project aimed at youth.  I wonder if she remembers some adult talking to her about writing and hope she is still at it.

Following her heart.

I don’t think I did it because of the messaging I got growing up which was anything but supportive towards writing as a career.

  • You don’t want to be a writer – they don’t make any money.  You want to be a doctor, lawyer, or engineer – or at least marry one.

So they could realize their dream of having one in the family they could brag about.

  • A writer?  Yeah, my son told me he wants to be in a rock band.  I told him to get a real job.

Told to me by a college counselor.  Apparently he didn’t think being a writer was a real job.

My parents encouraged me to…FOLLOW MY HEART!!!!

This included not discouraging me from being a writer. Not once.

I’ll admit my path to writing is non-traditional though I’m not sure if there is a such thing as a traditional path to that profession.

I can honestly say I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

I only know that I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was 3 and I’ve been writing ever since.

It’s in me.

Not Just Writing.  I found myself recently encouraging another beautiful young woman facing the challenges of lockdown.

A dancer.

The challenges she was facing were numerous.  Not only were they being asked to dance over zoom – alone– they were being forced to find a place to do so.

Oh yes, everyone’s home can double as a dance studio.

We talked back and forth and I offered some suggestions on how to turn a small space into a makeshift studio.

Hanging mirror doors and installing a barre are relatively simple.  Framing a closet is also relatively easy.  I know – relatively – but it can be done.

What came out of the conversation, however, was something that sent me back into writer mode.  This beautiful woman told me she didn’t know who she was if she wasn’t a dancer.

She’d been dancing since early childhood.  She was watching helplessly as many of her friends – faced with restrictions that made dancing a shell of what it was meant to be – drop out.

My heart hurt that she was at a point many of us find ourselves along life’s path…who am I?

It was a point I found myself at once upon a time.  

Did someone say once upon a time?  

I told her that dancing is a form of creativity but that the creativity is in her soul and that if dancing was not the outlet it would take that was okay because it would find another one.

I then backed it up with … of course … a story…

I told her how I had been training for the US Olympic Gymnast team – was told I was the next Nadia Comaneci – when two weeks before Olympic training camp I suffered a brain bleed that left me blind, paralyzed, and in a coma.

Needless to say – bye bye Olympic dream.

I told her that in the rubble of my dream I reconnected with the earlier one – of being a writer and while the rest, as they say, is history, the point of the story was that I was born a creative – as was she – and that that creativity would find a way to express itself no matter what.

I told her not to give up on dancing and that life has a way of working itself out but more importantly I told her that she is not the dancer so much as a creative spirit looking to express that spirit of creativity and that I was 100% certain it would find a way.

Addendum.  I didn’t whitewash the pain or frustration.  I told her that yes, the disappointment and frustration was formidable.  

I’d felt a lot of guilt because of what I’d lost – weirdly enough.  

And then…

Angels in Disguise.  I shared two events of significance – both facilitated by coworkers in the tech industry – that helped me move past the pain.

Writers Wanted.  One day early in my tech career I happened to mention to a coworker I wanted to eventually be a writer full-time.  Turns out, so did she and what do you know, so did another colleague who’d overheard our conversation and came over from his cubicle to join.

You haven’t lived until you experience the rat in a cage life of working in a cubicle with your alloted space for mementos. Provided they met with corporate approval of course.

Interestingly all of us were pursuing different genres.

What started as a random chance conversation turned into a mini support group.

Last I knew, Mary was able to “quit her day job” after getting a contract and winning an award for her first book.  Jim had an agent shopping his manuscript around.  Yes, this was years ago but I’d like to think they are still following their dream.

Olympic Reroute.  I was having lunch with two sales reps who had also been on track for the Olympics.

This was several years after leaving that other company and relatively close to when I quit to pursue my own writing career. 

One was a Canadian who was – interestingly enough – on the gymnast team.  

Had it worked out we would have competed!

The other was a guy who was on the US Olympic tennis team.

I was a bit puzzled by the sighs and lamenting that accompanied their stories.  I knew what had happened to my dreams but what were they feeling?  

What they told me changed my world.

“It was the 1980 Olympics.”

My reply was “Yes, I remember this – I had the brain bleed in the summer of 1979.”

“Don’t you remember?  We boycotted the Olympics that year!”

Um, no, I was kind of busy trying to learn to walk again.

That wasn’t a pity party statement so much as an explanation of why that wasn’t topmost on my mind of missed Olympic opportunity.

For the next hour we talked about our feelings at having spent years of hard work – the commitment of ourselves, our families – only to miss an opportunity.

This conversation healed me in ways I can’t express, and I am forever indebted to these two individuals for baring their hearts and souls that day.

As we concluded lunch all of us agreed that in spite of the deep disappointment, our lives were rich, filled with wonderful experiences. Most importantly, each of us had found ways to channel that creative passion that put us on the Olympic track.

The Canadian found a passion for horses and she competes – successfully.

She also has a beautiful spirit and sense of humor that makes this world a better place.

The gentleman found an outlet for tennis in teaching inner city kids not only tennis but how to find that passion within themselves.

Something he credits his dad for teaching him.

I shared these stories with the beautiful dancer to further explain 

  • Don’t give up on dancing because the final chapter has not been written
  • The creative spirit is in you – it IS you – and it will find a way out

Hell, maybe she’ll end up being a best-selling writer…