Lie Down Sally

ne of the only times I am not in agreement that Eric Clapton is superior in his musical efforts than am I falls to my obligatory issue of grammar over artistic expression. When I compose a lyric, the language must be exact; more exacting, in fact, than the musical structure. That the reader has never heard any of my pieces while nearly everyone has familiarity with the work of Mr. Clapton obviously shows I am in the minority with this concern – but that is another issue.


oday, I am looking at another grammatical usage puzzle that has gotten the better of me too many times. The doubt and uncertainty associated with this has been humbling. The question is simply this:

When is it appropriate to use “lay” and when to use “lie”?

In addition to “getting happy” with comma usage, this one gets irritating for me in a hurry. Yes. I really do need a life as this matter inflames my passions . . . but, I digress. At least this one time I am able to smugly “instruct” one of the greatest guitar virtuosos of all time.


e are excluding the definition of telling an untruth from our concern. The use of “lie” will simply be in relation to placement of an object, such as a guitar, upon a table. The easy application will be addressed first. The fundamental consideration is that the word, “lay” requires a direct object – To lay the guitar on the table. The word, “lie” does not require a direct object – To lie on the bed. When framed in the present tense, what needs to be kept in mind is what action is occurring – what is being done, NOW. So, the doctor is standing before you this very moment and he instructs you to lie down on the examination table. Concurrently, you notice he is going to lay down your chart on the table. As it so happens, this plays nicely into my misanthropic view of humanity and allows us to remember proper application by a simple thought: People lie / objects lay.

Again, “I lay the guitar on the bed as I lie down to get comfortable.”

For those that have noticed the world is a messy place because of people (present company excluded, of course) all simplicity goes out the window when one considers “lay” as the past tense of “lie.” Not being one to let sleeping dogs lie I shall endeavor to lay hold of the difficulty.

       Present Tense: lie       Past Tense: lay       Past Participle: lain

Let’s “lay it down”, now . . .

Past Tense: “Eric lay down to nap on the recording studio sofa during the exhausting session.”

Past Participle: “I have lain around for days and this is the only effort I have to show.”


       Present Tense: lay       Past Tense: laid       Past Participle: laid

And a one, and a two, and a three . . .

Past Tense: “When Eric Clapton laid down the tracks for ‘Layla’ it was to cover the lie of the depth of his relationship with Patty Harrison.”

Past Participle: “He has laid that demo tape on the PR man’s desk.”


here. I have laid it on the line. You will not be able to lay any charges at my feet. Had I lain about, avoiding my responsibility only then would you have cause to lie awake.

The Insane Little Lunatic's Lovelorn Life

This memorable piece fell out of some recess, in my recollection, just now. I was surprised to remember it in its entirety as I wrote it, instead of paying attention in class, when I was sixteen years of age. Being that was thirty years ago and that it unfortunately proves as true today as it did, then, should at least garnish me the welcome pity and perhaps sympathy I so covet. Yeats, would find it amusing. At least, I would like to believe that to be true. I leave it to you to decide for yourself.


There should be a celebration
In regard to population
Because, for every man, there are more women

So even, then, if some should horde
And some get less (while others more)
There still should be: for every man a woman

But, somehow there is a mistake!
For every attempt I try to make -
For every man (but me) there is a woman

Sure there may be more fish in the sea
But all I have for bait is me?!
Starkist, wants tuna that tastes good; I, want a woman

Still, I'm hoping that things will change,
That, Cupid's arrow will have better range . . .
If she's got a big enough bullseye, he'll get me that woman!

Practiced Abandon

She wants me to be myself and pass me on to someone else
Always someone else; that special, somewhere else
She loves my attention but she does not love me
Wants to enjoy who I am but not completely
There's someone else, to be sure, loves me
I am told this to reassure me but really to exonerate herself

Oh she loves to hear my voice and the words that it bears
That flatter her ears and soothe her hurts and cares
She loves my intent but she does not love me
Wants to find love but apart from me
Promises someone else so I'll let her be
All this in hopes to spare me from the nothing that is there

She wants me to find what I need but once she's had her fill
Once my words seem empty and her heart has stilled
She loves my time but she does not love me
She is now satisfied so I am left in need
Of that special someone else awaiting me
I have been abandoned but I must applaud her for her skill

Code of Conduct

t has taken approximately one week longer than anticipated to publish the "simple" watch movie I programmed and illustrated using Macromedia Flash. The original post explaining my effort is here.

am generally satisfied and came to the crossroad of whether to fiddle and tweak it endlessly until I had exhausted all refinement or actually release something to the public. The latter is a drastic departure for me. As I am generally pleased that the movie is not "clunky" and awkward and simulates the sleek and smooth functioning of the real watch made by Breitling to a fairly high degree I have taken a bold new step for me and published. I hope to continue in this vein from here on so that my writing and other creative efforts will be seen by their intended audiences. I have a tendency to want something to be perfect before allowing others to be involved. The consequence of that has been that essentially nothing I begin ever is completed or allowed to sink or swim on its own merits.

any of my creative and artistic friends suffer from the same malady. We are also often confronted with the reveal by someone else of many ideas which we had and, frankly developed further, but stand by helplessly because they profited from exposure while we merely wrestled with our demons. I am trying to break that cycle. Thus, warts and all, I have made myself vulnerable to criticism by posting my less than perfect work in the right sidebar. I had to remind myself that my desire to create this small work was for the express purpose of sharing it. For once, I have not lost sight of the main objective. All of the stopwatch functions work. The clock shows the date and time of day where I live. In this way, regardless of where you are in the world or no matter the time of day or night of your viewing my posts you will be made a little more intimately involved directly with my life experience. That's really a goal in my writing in the first place. I want to connect more directly with my readers. I consider my desire to make contact with you was more important than making the perfect watch simulation. But, in my communication as well as future program tweaks I will always strive to improve both.

Three Bolts, Two Clamps, and One Hose

hree bolts, two clamps, and one hose were all that prevented me from simply getting in my car and heading in any direction to any location I wished. How much does one need to prepare and concern oneself with such trivial things? Much more often and with greater care, it would seem. Most of the events of our lives are dependent upon items so common that they seldom catch our notice until they oppose our desires. Then the simple element with a simple function complicates the course of our day, consumes our hours, squanders our minutes; frustrates our plans. The details overlooked seed the clouds of circumstances that overwhelm. The smallest thing demands its due recognition. There are no skipped steps and no details so insignificant that may be neglected.

t is the same with writing. All of the rules of style and format and spelling and grammar and punctuation are only the foundation. If one is to write a truly human work there can not be the luxury of skimming over the little things. One hose failed and confined me to a two day sentence of imprisonment. Not only did I have to contend with the failed component but also the failed maintenance schedule, budget, preparation, grocery shopping, and attention to the little details of cause and effect. Then there was the assessment of the ways and means to navigate a problem that had been the result of another human being’s imagination. Every method that could resolve the failure had to satisfy the conditions inherited by me from the design and assembly of some unknown hand.

here is always trial and error, and despite the naturally great distaste for failure, it must be given its due. There is a part of me that recognizes – that actually knows and has admitted – that I do not learn much at all from success. My tuition has been in the failing. I need to remind myself of these things as I write. I need to make certain in my stories that I plan for failure more than the characters realize success. All of those elements of anticipation mingled with denied gratification are necessary to bring that delicious tension to the work which draws in the reader. Like the necessary uncertainty that comes as a stringed instrument is strained and tuned to pitch as to whether it will break or hold, I need to slowly give the work that one, last, critical twist. I think I am going to strive to bait the reader with the false belief held by the whole human race that mankind is fundamentally good and that good always prevails. Then I shall let the details rip that fallacy to shreds. The truth I would like to confront my audience with is that mankind is basically flawed and all good comes from concerted strain and effort against the natural order of chaos.

ven after I had bled and bruised myself from the strain and contortions that I had no choice but to go through in order to replace that hose there was no assurance I had been successful. Sometimes, doubt, is a powerful motivator. Was the replacement secretly flawed? Had another of those little details escaped my view and was it possible I had damaged the very thing I had endeavored to mend? Were those clamps positioned to maximize their effectiveness in securing that hose to its couplings? Did I tighten those three bolts in any combination of too loose or too tight – anything other than correctly? Was it all for show or was it good to go?

hat uncertainty is the very thing I want my readers to feel when they risk driving off in the work of my hands and the vehicle of my imagination.

Code Violations

y current audience consists of two people other than myself. That's fine. This is not one of those blogs where you go to get entertained by a broadcast of telling moments from someone's day. Hopefully, at some future date, it will become a little more like that. Should I have any success as an author, I may be able to tell little anecdotes about meetings with publishers or publicists. I secretly desire to travel to certain spots in the world as inspiration for my work. So, those experiences would be enjoyable, I think.

or the present and foreseeable future, however, I will be mostly journaling about my meandering thoughts and maybe I'll glean some insights from my own conclusions. I'm not expecting any amazing revelations but I am leaving the door open to be surprised. I've really been distracted and uninspired this week. I chased after some email conversations, diverted my time and attention with focus on my other blog (an alter-ego rant festival) and jumped into a little exercise in frustration trying to develop a widget for decorating the sidebar column of this blog page. No. You needn't get caught up in looking for it as it hasn't materialized, yet. I am extremely close but I'm working out flaws in several people's reasoning, including my own. Suffice it to say that if I complete the little gizmo, and execute the presentation properly, there'll be no celebration by anyone seeing it. It will most likely be taken for granted. I suppose that will represent success to me because although the idea is simple the development has not been.

will insist it is a valid exercise because programming is another form of writing that takes practice and skill and is not for everyone. To be able to code, in any programming language, is akin to being able to compose a musical score. That's another pursuit of mine but we'll save that for another day. The challenge in writing software is that the success or failure is much more readily on display than in other forms of authoring. There are only a few places where one may cheat or fall back on comfortable crutches in technique or presentation. Even plagiarism does not work easily with software code. It really requires focus, discipline, and a willingness to be found wrong again and again without losing heart and giving up. Syntax is hugely significant. Spelling accepts no mistakes and there is no spell checker in most debugging tools. It is a great exercise for developing concentration, reason, and determination. Sometimes the discovery of the "right way" to bring your imagination to life is a work of art. There's beauty in the math and structure of the code. It's very intimate and very personal and no matter how much you gush over it while explaining enthusiastically to a non-participant it is going to remain a private affair. This may carry over positively into my novels and other forms of literary constructions. I suppose one really must enjoy what they are doing exclusively and finding anyone else to enjoy it is just a happy coincidence.

hat is an odd thought because I always have a unique someone or special group of someones in mind when I am writing. I am writing to please them and writing to them and writing for them. If I feel I am reaching my intended audience I grow enthusiastic and energized to continue. That's a weak motivation. One bad day or an off impression or even a misinterpretation of a person's reaction has the power to deter or detain or detract from my writing. I'm only realizing that at this moment and thinking how many days have gone by without an entry because I let my imagination of someone else's approval or disapproval interfere with my love of writing. I will need to make that realization a law not to be violated and set writing for the sake of writing as a precedent. There are rules to be broken and there are rules to embrace. I think I find fewer rules need to be broken than habits and attitudes, though. There must be an inviolate code that an author subscribes to in order to create and continue to create with purpose. Like any pursuit it is obvious that one can not allow them self to be diverted from their goal by negative and opposing influences. It 's just important to realize that the really negative and disingenuous notions most often are found from within and not from external sources. Ah, the suffering artist.

A Yawn, in Three Acts

he last thing I need to do is find another vehicle to reinforce my excuses for what I’m not writing. That’s not stopping me from exploring the cause and effect, here. I’m all hung up about the 3-Act format. I just don’t have the sort of contiguous mental processes that submit to a rigid structure. I am much happier just letting it fly and seeing if I can bring it in for a safe and satisfying landing. I can’t schedule the orderly flow of the story because I have only bits and pieces of knowing the personalities of my characters and only vague notions of an average day in their world.

y own story isn’t helping, either. I am dead smack in the middle of my own monotonous 3-Acts in real life. Well, not so much real as it is my life. I’m all about dreams and visions for select and specific details but I’m not the sort of person that daydreams about the happy world I’d like to find myself. I should have all the fodder I need if my motivation was to imagine an escape from my day-to-day. Many great stories have been birthed from that impetus. I just am not one to look back and wonder what-if I had taken another course. I know me too well. I took the course I would have taken nearly every time. I’m not a person that makes coin toss decisions. I assess the risk and go ahead and stomach the consequences. Then I whine about it ever after.

o I have a fundamental theme as far as a plot convention for my tale. I have given the nod to at least three characters as being caught up in the story. All of them are just too resigned to, more than content and accepting of, their circumstances. I think they’re behaving too much like me. I’m not getting a handle on two very critical elements. I am able to introduce the cast without any problem. Their basic drives and lifestyles are easy enough to present. I do not have a significant cause for them to champion. I don’t have any great challenge for them to surmount. They are all going about their business in the same clueless condition as me. That does not make for good reading. I don’t need a model of futility. This is unfortunate since the antagonist of my story is supposed to be so ordinary as to blend into the background but he is more dynamic than any of the other players. This wasn’t set out to be a clichéd accolade of the disturbed mind. Instead it’s becoming a loosely assembled map to my disturbed mind.

Law of the Land and the Rules of English

To some it is a comfort that the rules of language and grammatical usage are flexible and not as rigid as mathematical or universal constants. I find it a shame for two reasons. Firstly, some of the gray areas in effort would go away and leave that much more space for thought instead of caution while in pursuit of the ideal. Secondly, I love to defy concrete rules. So language has me at a disadvantage and I love words. The parallels to my status with and devotion to women are numerous. Really that makes sense as words are the currency with which we must demonstrate endless supply while frivolously spending them to gain favor. In writing as in love there are no guarantees that by pouring out one’s soul and expressing the most heartfelt thoughts that the message will be received as intended.

With that in mind I am interested in providing a few tools I have been extremely pleased to locate on the web. For as much facility as I try to maintain with the language I have gaps and some out-and-out mental bridges simply washed away. There are a couple instances that always snag my sleeve as I run through the forests of my ideas. The first is the usage of “then “ and “than.” This should not be all that difficult and yet . . . I get caught every now and again. So here is the easy way to distinguish the application of these two words:

"Then" indicates a change in state or progression, such as the example, "Do this then do that." This is a progression of events or time. "I started out walking, and then I jogged until the end of the course."

"Than" indicates a choice, such as, "I would prefer this one rather than that one." In other words, “Than” is used usually as a comparison or preference. "I'd rather walk than jog." Personally, I find to test the usage as to whether “than” is appropriate makes the decision easier.

Another bothersome sound-alike pair is “affect” and “effect.” For this I humbly defer to Paul Brians, of Washington State University. According to him,

“There are five distinct words here. When “affect” is accented on the final syllable (a-FECT), it is usually a verb meaning “have an influence on”: “The million-dollar donation from the industrialist did not affect my vote against the Clean Air Act.”

Occasionally a pretentious person is said to affect an artificial air of sophistication. Speaking with a borrowed French accent or ostentatiously wearing a large diamond ear stud might be an affectation. In this sort of context, “affect” means “to make a display of or deliberately cultivate.”

Another unusual meaning is indicated when the word is accented on the first syllable (AFF-ect), meaning “emotion.” In this case the word is used mostly by psychiatrists and social scientists— people who normally know how to spell it.

The real problem arises when people confuse the first spelling with the second: “effect.” This too can be two different words. The more common one is a noun: “When I left the stove on, the effect was that the house filled with smoke.” When you affect a situation, you have an effect on it.

The less common is a verb meaning “to create”: “I’m trying to effect a change in the way we purchase widgets.” No wonder people are confused. Note especially that the proper expression is not “take affect” but “take effect”—become effective. Hey, nobody ever said English was logical: just memorize it and get on with your life.

The stuff in your purse? Your personal effects.”

Rather than (Heh? See- see? I used it properly) attempt to provide proper descriptions, here, I will instead offer the links I found on the web. The Grand Daddy for all of these references is the University of Chicago Writing Program, GRAMMAR RESOURCES ON THE WEB. It is presented concisely and in good humor. Writing should be fun and these references make it exciting.

Gleaned from within that page are all of the sources I am currently depending on for accurate guidance. Paul Brians’s link is there but also here, Common Errors in English and another particularly intriguing resource that culled my attention was the Guide to Punctuation, Usage, and Grammar , by Marcus D. Rosenbaum and John Dinges.

These sites are likely addictive for those who may be like me and read the thesaurus for entertainment. I intend to revisit this post whenever I, or someone thoughtfully commenting, locate(s) additional or specialized resources. Enjoy!

Simple is (What's the word . . ?) Too Easy

have a personal confession to make. I love to focus on seemingly trivial details. Fortunately for someone such as me, I am living in an English speaking country, and America, which is even better for really mucking up the language. This luxury affords me endless hours of pleasure wincing at grammatical errors and equal dread for my own blunders. In ordinary conversation I have managed to avoid a great many phonetic aberrations that would betray the geographical area of my upbringing. Still, there is nothing in my speech that is unusual in comparison to those around me other than choice of verbiage. I have had several people ask if I am from England.

stopped reacting or even acknowledging the question years ago. I suppose that although I am perfectly happy to join in the banter with everyone else and employ the same language, when given the choice I opt for more exacting words. I also have a love for the melody associated with certain phrases. There’s just such a wonderful cadence to certain sounds and syllables strung together. I have a mild concern that my preoccupation (some would argue insistence) to ameliorate dialog will actually be detrimental to my writing. The reason this blog site is subtitled “Verbal Pyrotechnics” is due to that being the attribution of a college composition professor. Prior to reading one of my submissions he addressed the class with the disclaimer, “Try to get beyond the verbal pyrotechnics and appreciate what he is saying.” He was constantly engaged in a battle for me to use ordinary language. So many papers came back with red circles and chastisements exclaiming “ARCHAIC.” I tried to argue that the word was still valid and his retort was, “Only to you and Twelfth Century, English poets!”

evertheless I will guard against a good deal of the language I am comfortable using for the sake of the characters and even the narrative of my novels and other stories. I am exercising none of that in this missive because I still need a channel to let this stuff flow. The advantages of a blog is the freedom to just put oneself out there and kick off the shoes of rigor and civility and wiggle the toes a little. Besides, this forum presents me the opportunity to try a whole lot of things – that even if every one of them fails – I will benefit from the experience. This is a place to try experiments and test concepts and ideas. I hope it will knock both the rust as well as the unnecessary from my writing.

Are We Known by the Company We Keep - or Bad Hair Days?

I was desperate to find a photograph - any photograph to put into my profile. The only choice available was what you see, now. It is grainy and not entirely representative of me but will have to do. There are just no pictures as no one has taken any of me and I'm not terribly interested in taking my own. The photograph which I most eagerly anticipate is that found in the jacket of my novels.

In my mind, that photograph will capture the essence of the brooding artist and the penetrating but far away stare of a philosopher entranced in thought. My hair will be white and wild and my bushy eyebrows frowning to emphasize my taking bead and aim at another evil about to be addressed with my wit and wrath and blistering reason. As I age I am well on my way to that iconic dream. I am reflecting on why such a picture defines the author but it is supported by history. After some consideration one must wonder which came first, the misery or the mystery captured in the images we have of great writers? It is really something that I believe happens concurrently.

Here are some but not all of the giants that have either influenced or reinforced the ideologies to which I subscribe. Each was out of step with their times because they were miles ahead. That you may disagree or not embrace them as I is not important. It is my opinion and you are entitled to it.

Charles Dickens. Until I located this photograph I had no idea he was left-handed. My admiration has now expanded without bounds. In addition to his use of the superior opposable thumb I share his participation in personal misery and misfortune and find writing from experience as the most natural for me. I read Great Expectations at the tender age of twelve and it forever nurtured my misogynistic tendencies. God bless us, each and every one!

Continuing the theme of bad hair and worse attitude is the sardonic, Mark Twain. I will try to not become as jaded and cynical as Samuel Clemens became in later life but I will gladly drink deeply from the well of his inspiration and trust the same wary eye to allow me to see through the folly of daily human preoccupations.



Alexander Pope. What deliciously rapier wit and pointed sarcasm. Another hero as much for his facility with the English language as his precision with expressing his observations. I love technical mastery and because the constraints Pope put upon himself to remain within the strictures of acceptable language in his prose only magnify rather than restrain him is all the more reason I so enjoy him.

Robert Frost, is timeless in his verbal snapshots of America. He produced such vibrant colors with black and white descriptions. There is nothing light about his verse. His pensive mood and probing thoughts could provide a panoramic landscape or tunnel in with microscopic scrutiny to the soul. "Mending Wall" proved to me that a poem can express as much as a great novel.

Ayn Rand. Loved or hated there is no mistaking this author's work. Her ideologies and stance were and still are so contrary to the culture of comfort seeking and living without thought or consequence. If a writer can not provoke you or inspire you then why should they be read? Honestly, can her style, energy, passion or craft be dismissed because of her political reasoning? Hardly. I avoided reading her for years because so many people wanted to draw comparison between her principle characters and my own conduct and attitudes. Her style is as distinctive and powerful as Hemingway's. That did not happen by accident or chance and no one was seeking to afford her the opportunity to express herself. She voiced her mind unwaveringly and clearly by shear force of will.

Why Beca Sue? Because . . .

his blog is anticipated to be a sort of stream-of-consciousness journal of my floundering efforts to write professionally. It will meander and muse on whatever distracts or gives pause to me during the journey. I hope to discover and pass on little bits and pieces of valuable insight and information. To be honest if I only accomplish that personally will be enough. However, I hope to have more to contribute.

ne of the first issues to address is my typing. I had proper instruction as far back as my sophomore year of high school. I even spent nearly two decades in Information Technology so it would be expected that I would demonstrate decent facility. Nothing could be further from the truth. I hunt and peck and the best explanation would have to be that I lack confidence. I simply do not trust my fingers to coordinate the effort and consistently locate the appropriate keys. I am constantly interrupting my thought process to focus on the keyboard. I don’t merely glance but stare at the keys. Even then I miss every other stroke and tend to interject the space bar either at odd syllables or one letter shy of a complete word. This must be a reflection on my need for assurance on the whole or especially as pertaining to composition. Coincident with the typing dexterity issue is the need to read what has been laboriously entered about every three sentences. There is so much redundancy and self-congratulatory nonsense interrupting the process that there is very little allowance made for progress.

have considered three solutions and may end up incorporating them all and find a few extra. The obsolete method to capture thoughts before they were lost to distraction or mechanical limitations was to transcribe them via Dictaphone. The modern alternative is software such as Dragon Speak which inputs and formats the text to the computer as one speaks. I may find this very conducive to performing brain dumps and then going through the output and turning it into something resembling crafted writing. Another necessary adjustment is to practice my typing and get more acclimated and automatic with my usage. There are some brain-to-finger transfers that have become trademark patterns as well as bitingly irritating. One repetitive error is a personal demon and a great source of amusement for my friends. No one knows who the elusive Beca Sue, is, but I can tell you she is often mentioned in nearly everything I type. She originated in my consistent typographical error in trying to enter the word “because.”

Therefore, my third corrective behavior is not to get hung up on corrective behavior at all and to just write. If I focus too much on the mechanics and grammar and my personal idiosyncrasies I will not be free to express my ideas and get them into a tangible form. Once the thoughts are actually recorded I may spend however much time is necessary or that I like to massage and rework and prove them – but, they need to be out of my head first and foremost. It sounds so reasonable and simple. Let’s see . . . A,S,D,F . . J, K, L, semi-colon. I can do this!

Another Wannabe Writer

elcome to my new office space. I suppose it’s the way of authors, or in my case a wannabe author, to imagine ourselves in all sorts of exotic locales and interesting circumstances. I tend to focus on the details of what those far-away - in another time - places have to offer before they become as common and ordinary to me as they are to the people that live and work and play there every day. So I’ve grown a bit nostalgic for some familiar items but with a glance backward to when they seemed modern and fresh. Banker’s lamps and desk blotters make me believe I’m the possessor of vast industrial fortunes. Airmail, brandy, and a good cigar allow me to exercise my vices as a man of the world. Ah, the phone, again . . . probably my publisher looking for that final draft.

efore I flop into that old arch-back chair I think I’ll glance outside and let the weather set my mood. I love hands-on living but there is one benefit of the digital world; I can immediately pacify my whim for what vista will greet me looking out of the virtual window over my desk. Perhaps I’m in New England in the Fall? There’s the love of my life in a baggy sweatshirt and her hair tossed with the wind just like the leaves she’s raking. I love the way the light plays off that auburn silk glinting with streaks of honey. She’s so beautiful among the burgundy and amber backdrop of autumn.

hat is that muffled sound? Seagulls and the tumbling waves are calling me to leave this musty paper and step through the cabana doorway into the warm sand of the beach. Cocoa butter and salt are caressing my nose. The squeals of children barely carry over the static of the surf. My toes idly search the gaps between the dry rotted planks of the floor beneath my feet. I’ve got to focus and get to work. I have writing to do.

here is no time to gaze out on these desert dunes. They should seem lonely and lifeless but they’re hiding something mysterious beneath those layers of sediment streaked rust and blood in the encrusted rocky ledges. Tenacious clumps of grass defy the odds of survival. The frail blades reach for the endless sky but grow faint and bow down to the arid earth This old rocking chair has worn ruts into the porch after all of the hours I’ve spent after the sun and the heat go down in the evenings.

uts. I’m certainly in one now. Come on, Lance, sit down in that chair and start writing. This stuff doesn’t write itself. I suppose that’s the magic, isn’t it? Someone has to write the short stories, novels, plays and scripts so why not me! I really want to be a writer instead of [anything else] and, I also write. I have always wanted to indifferently stroll into the bank with a royalty check from my publisher and have the cashier be excited to realize, “You’re Lance Schneider?!” Before any of that can happen I actually need to write something. Too bad. Maybe I’m afraid the dream is better than reality just as my stories are better than my life? There is only one way to know for certain.

t’s time to take off this jacket and these cuff links; roll up these sleeves and loosen this tie. That’s better. Huh. She left her stockings strewn over the end of the sofa, right where I finally persuaded her to let me peel them off. What was her name . . ?