Writing About Writing

 

           

            That sounds pretty boring. Ew!
            But, a funny thing happened on the way to April of 2026. Somehow, I started acting as if I felt something that might described as feeling like I might be some kind of a writer.
            This was a gradual process, and I never set out to make this happen. Maybe my childish approach to story writing allowed it to progress without too much observation from me. IOW, being a centipede, I wasn’t watching all my feet, I was just stumping along unaware.
            What I have been doing these last few months is picking a type of story, say, a folktale, like the one yesterday. I tried to bring in several cultural known characters, such as the trickster and set him in opposition to a virtuous innocent. Just for fun, I made this trickster character our old friend Jumpstart. Spring Peeper is every little girl who triumphs because of her inherent nature in every story of the type. Doesn’t have to be a little girl, of course. Could be a boy or a talking cat or whatever.
            With the story about the guy camping on Hat Island I was trying to write a ripping yarn of the pot boiler type, like we had been listening to at night, but make it more believable.
            I don’t know what to say about Ralph and the Great Forest. That just kind of happened, and now it’s as real to me as some place I have actually been. Ralph is a love story, not in the usual sense, though he and Ramona certainly portray love. It must be about a great number of things I find lovely.
            I still want to visit Luminous, Texas, darnit! I want to sit in that café and interview the customers!
            What is important to me:

•   Word choice is like what color to use, which unconscious connections I wish to hint at.
•   Turn of phrase. Something fresh, but not too far of a stretch for the reader to endure.
•   Portrayal of the characters, without just blurting out how they are. Show, not tell.
•   A storyline which is psychologically feasible and satisfying.

            That’s probably about enough of that. I just felt like explaining myself a little bit.
            Your commentary and kind words have been my light along the way. Please, always say more, not less. Since this is a process of communication, I greatly wish to know how it’s going.
            Thank you, from my heart.

🌸🤍🌸

Dear Old One and Coyote

 

 
            Dear Old One was always talking. Sometimes she told the old stories everyone knew, but sometimes, she muttered things no one had ever heard before.
            To the children, she seemed as old as the world itself. She was short and bent. Her clothes were so old that she had shortened them to match her stature, dresses almost as old as she. Her hair was white, worn up in a twist, so that it looked like a shiny candy. Her eyes were sharp, blue, always looking. Her tongue was sharp too.
            If a village child didn’t know her they may have thought she looked frightening.  So old, bent, and slow, with a stick to help her walk.
            But Spring Peeper did know Dear Old One. She knew that the old lady was kind, harsh, but protective like a good medicine. Spring Peeper trusted her absolutely.
            Of course Spring Peeper was not her real name. Her true name was a secret kept from the Little People. Naturally, no one wanted them knowing their true name.
            One day Spring Peeper was following Dear Old One around her house and outside in the garden, making a pest of herself and getting underfoot of the old lady. So, the old lady sat on the bench outside, under the locust tree and the small girl sat beside her, swinging her feet and humming a tuneless little girl tune. Dear Old One turned her head and looked down on the child with her sharp blue eyes, and she began to speak.
            “You may be assured that Coyote, who is neither good nor evil in himself, comes to every man and asks him a question. The answer to the question will determine whether he is to be tied to the returning wheel, or shall be free,” she said. Then she closed her eyes and rested her hands on the head of her walking stick propped between her knees.
            This didn’t mean a lot to Spring Peeper, but she listened anyhow and tried to puzzle it out. She also thought that since she was not a man, and would never be a man, that the question really had nothing to do with herself. She figured that it was one of those rhetorical pronouncements her great grandmother was given to speaking from time to time.
            She did not expect to be put to the test by Coyote.
            Of course, no one ever does, do they?
            Another day, Spring Peeper was at home with She Is There and the other children. There were three of them, all younger, with one still at the breast. She Is There had been baking bread all morning. Her traditional breads were flat like pitas, and extremely good.
            Like in all such tales, the mother, She Is There, thought to send Spring Peeper with a basket of these good breads to her own grandmother, Dear Old One, at her small old house further down the river road by something like half a mile. Spring Peeper knew the way for she had walked that way many times on the same sort of errand.
            She Is There wrapped a good  half dozen flat breads in a nice clean cotton towel and put them in the usual withy basket, which moved between their houses on various missions. She told Spring Peeper to go straight to Dear Old One’s cottage and come right back home immediately.
            Spring Peeper agreed and set out in a businesslike manner down the path beside the river in the shade of the trees that always seem to grow beside rivers.
            As she walked along in the pleasant shade, looking at this and that, flowers and bees, and birds, and all, she thought she heard a voice coming up behind her on the path. She listened and was surprised to hear what the voice was saying: “Not a fox, not a wolf. Not a fox, not a wolf!” It was repeated over and over again as if this were a very fine thing.
            Spring Peeper forgot her mother’s directions. She turned in the path to see who was following her. To her surprise she saw a beautiful doglike creature who was not a dog, nevertheless. He shone yellowish where the dappled sunlight spotted his fur. He smiled a friendly smile, and said, “Not a fox, not a wolf!
            “Hello, Child! Fancy meeting you here today!” said the shining creature. “What, may I ask, is your name?”
            Completely blindsided and charmed, Spring Peeper said, “Rosina!”
            “Ah, Rosina! Tell me which is best, will you?” said Coyote, for such he was, as you know well.
            “I can’t tell you which is best until you put the question to me,” said poor little Rosina.
            “Very well,” said Coyote, sitting on his haunches there in the path and wrapping his tail around his feet.
            “Which do you desire? Shall you be the most beautiful girl in the village, and the country, and have great fame for your beautiful face?
            “Or will you serve long years, baking bread, and tending babies, and all of that?” said Coyote, with shining yellow eyes, and with his tongue lolling from his open jaws. He waited there to see what the child would tell him.
            “When I am old, I shall be wise, like my Dear Old One! And if I am to be beautiful, I shall be beautiful in the village, like She Is There!” said Spring Peeper.
            “And so you shall be both wise and beautiful!” said Coyote, secretly quite pleased with her answer.
            “Farewell, Rosina, wise child. I won’t tell your name to the Little People, no fear,”  and he passed her up on the path and walked out into the field until she saw him no more.
            She carried the withy basket of still quite fresh bread to Dear Old One. She kissed the old lady, then went right back home, as she had promised to do.

🐺💛🦊

Somewhere In Arizona, From BW.

 

Just a Catfurday Open Thread.

With all my best wishes!

An Open Thread can be anything you like!

🤍

Expurration™ PNW

 

On location. Never mind the girl.

            “Ding, ding! Suzy, wake up,” said Toots one night at about 2AM from her station by the window. “Are you receiving this? I can see you there!”
            “I don’t know how you’re doing that. I can’t see you!” said Suzy, who was in fact, sleeping on the back of the recliner.
            “I don’t understand it either,” said Toots. “Hey, have you ever heard of a planet with rings around it? I think it’s called Caturn? What say we take another trip to space, Suzy? Any planet called Caturn has got to be a good one. Maybe there are giant gaseous cats there who will welcome us with big cloudy paws!”
            “That’s a strange thing to contemplate when just waking up. And after that crab thing on Mrrrz, I’m not feeling very brave,” said Suzy. “In fact, you have just activated my Caution! That planet is huge! It would have terrible gravity. Think about what could live there! They might be big flat things that ooze around the surface down in the gassy atmosphere!”
            “Doesn’t matter! Remember, we won’t actually be there with our tails and whiskers, only our mind’s eyes will be there looking at stuff. I don’t think they could see us unless we had our fur and whiskers with us!” insisted Toots.
            “Oh, yeah, I remember,” said Suzy.
            “Well…Sister Dear, wanna go?” said Toots.
            “I think I’d rather go camping,” said Suzy, finally.
            “What? Where?” said Toots. “I’ve been Outside, but I never went camping!”
            “I was thinking I’d like to visit the Index River. Of course we wouldn’t really be camping for the same reasons that we’d be safe on Caturn. Mind’s eyes don’t need camping equipment. All that stuff is for fur and whiskers. Think about it, Toots! We could just go up into the forest by the river and Check It Out!” purred Suzy.
            “I suppose when is the next question,” said Toots.
            “How about right now!” said Suzy.
            “It’s dark! It might be scary!” said Toots with her eyes aflame and wide.
            “It’ll be OK, Toots. We’ll just cruise up the river, higher and higher into the mountains for a while, then come home. OK? The river will be easy to follow. I’ve seen video,” said Suzy.
            “Well, alright. Let’s do it,” said Toots, very bravely.
            So, the two brave little cats put their noses down by their front paws and concentrated. Suzy knew about the river, so she brought Toots along with her. Soon, they were above a busy shining smallish river rushing rapidly downhill. Dark forest loomed on both sides. The sky was cloudy but had that pearlescent glow that cloudy skies have at night, so it wasn’t really all that dark, especially not to cats, who see quite well in the dark.
            “What do you think,” said Suzy to her friend.
            “It’s not like the creek at home. It’s going a lot faster,” said Toots. “And I’m not used to all these big dark tall trees!”
            “Let’s go up river,” said Suzy, turning her gaze up hill.
            So the two little expurrers bravely cruised up the busy river in the dark. It was going fine and they were getting a good sense of Mt. Index too, a rather obscure mountain in the area.
            Around a slight bend in the river they came upon a wide pebbly beach. There seemed to be a group, or family of large persons wading into the water, going under the surface and catching fish. Then they would wade out of the river again and share the fish with smaller members of the group. This went on the whole time Toots and Suzy watched.
            “Those aren’t people are they, Suzy?” said Toots. “They look an awful lot like those big guys I see on the highway sometimes at home!”
            “Let’s sneak down and listen,” said Suzy. “I want to get a better look.”
            “Yeah, OK. They can’t see us anyhow,” said Toots.
            But when the little points of vision came to hover near a large motherly person with a toddler on her knee, they got a big surprise.
            “It’s too bad that you girls can’t share some fish with us,” the mother said. “I know you’re there. One of you is a long way from home.”     
            “How did you know?” Toots and Suzy said at the same time.
            “It has something to do with wavelengths. I don’t explain. I just do. I’m no physicist!” said the mother. “Why did you come out here?”
            “I wanted to show my friend the river and the forest,” said Suzy.
            “Well, I think that’s really nice, and it was good to meet you girls,” said the mother. But she was fading a little, and so were the others, and the river and the forest.
            “I think you’ll find yourselves safe at home very soon,” was the last thing she said to them. She smiled a big friendly smile. There were crinkles at the corners of her brown eyes, and the wind running with the river tossed her long brown hair a bit. She winked!
            Suzy sat up and looked all around herself. She was on the back of the recliner, just the same as usual.
            “Toots,” she sent, “Did that happen?”
            “I believe it did,” said Toots, once again gazing out of the window as the sky just started to lighten in the east.

😹🌞😸

A Disturbance Before Sunrise

 

            One morning that summer something woke Ralph before sunrise. Lying in the dark, he could hear Ramona breathing beside himself, plus the slight sounds of Cherry and the Puma bros and Blue sleeping quietly. So, he knew it wasn’t a sound that woke him.
            It wasn’t Maeve either. It was something else. Maeve was probably still asleep up in the rocks on the mountain side.
            In fact, it wasn’t a sound at all. It was something else. More like a tickle, or an itch, but it was in his thoughts, not really even in his head. It was really weird, and new. This had not happened to him before. It was impossible to sleep with this going on. So, before he disturbed Ramona with his awakened state, he got out of the big quilt, put his feet on the floor, and decided to go outside into the still dark morning and try to figure out what was happening to him.
            Ralph isn’t a worrier, but he does take care of business in a timely manner.
            Without making a sound he slipped out of the green door, shut it carefully behind himself, and came out sniffing the air carefully. He could smell the coals of Ramona’s fire, but that was all. This wasn’t really a smell thing, but he had to check.
            He sat beside the still visible winks of firelight in the coals, studying them and trying to place the disturbance he was feeling. The more he thought about it, the less he liked it.
            A chill little pre-dawn wind blew through the Home Clearing. It got Ralph’s attention because it was so directional. The tossed tips of fir branches, barely visible to us, but visible to Ralph all seemed to point toward the meadow and the Alder Tree House.         
            “Oh!” thought Ralph. His eyes opened wide and his breath quickened. This didn’t seem good at all. The disturbance in his mind was stronger too.
            He stood and went back to the green door, placing his hand on it, and saying, “Keep them!” He knew that it would be so. Then he started walking up toward the meadow which held so much that he loved.
            A dark mind tried to enter his, but he threw it off and kept walking as quickly as he could. Ralph decerned that it was searching for the Star Child, Koba. As he walked, Maeve found him. She flew beside him matching his speed.
            “Boss, something is in the air above us,” she said.
            “You saw it?” he said rapidly.
            “Yes. Very far up,” said Maeve. “It’s not a creature. It’s a machine of some kind.”
            “Koba is in peril,” said Ralph. “But I don’t know how yet.”
            When they hurried out into the open of the still dark meadow the machine was visible in the middle air between the tree tops and the low cloud layer. It was round on top and flat on the bottom. There were some dim orange lights around the outer edge. They barely showed. If you didn’t know it was there you might not have seen it.
            To Ralph it was confusing. It sent mixed messages. It looked like a space vehicle, true, but it didn’t taste like one. The sense of it was of human and danger. It was nothing like Mak’s silver ship.
            “What do you think, Birdy,” whispered Ralph.
            “I think that if they want Koba, then they are evil indeed, Boss,” said Maeve quietly as they stood there watching. Maeve was on his shoulder so he could hear her well. “Only the Maker knows what plans they might have for him, or maybe they only want his death!”
            Knowledge rose up in Ralph’s heart.
            “It shall not be, Madam,” he said to Maeve.
            A mighty song was given to Ralph. He was done whispering and being afraid. He sang it loudly and it rang over the meadow, and indeed over the whole Great Forest. The power of it was peace and hope to any who heard it and knew from the song that Ralph was about.
            The effect was entirely different on the dark ship hovering there over the Alder Tree House. It shuddered, and as the sky began to lighten, its orange lights winked out. Then the darkened ship vanished completely, and the sky was clean again.
            The clouds remaining from the night past drifted away, the sky was pale blue, and the sun became visible far to the east. There was peace as far as Ralph could see.
            “That was quite a song, Boss,” said Maeve. “What was it called?”
            “You are forbidden and destruction is upon you,” said Ralph. “Kind of a long name!”
            “Will you tell Twigg and Leely?” said Maeve.
            “Yeah, some day I will. Maybe not today,” said Ralph. “Let’s not disturb them. Today they are going to go introduce Koba to Enid and Arthur. That’s probably enough excitement for one day, eh, Birdy?”
            “I won’t say it, but you know it, Boss,” said Maeve, indulging in a small chuckle.
            “Let’s go home and tell Mona. She should know and she will be glad Koba is safe,” said Ralph. He faced the rising sun, and it shone off of his deep brown glossy hair, and was reflected in his  happy brown eyes. Then he turned, and with Maeve in her accustomed place, set off for the Home Clearing.
            He was starting to feel a little hungry, and wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee either.

🍃💚🌿

When A Problem Comes Along (Campfire Version)

 

            All Indigenous Folk, Neanderthals, Africans, Asians, and probably Sasquatches know that the best thing for leveling out resetting the old  joie de vivre, is a good roaring campfire.
            I’m not sure about other cryptids. Fire might scare them.
            Isolated groups of beings among their own cohort can absolutely benefit from a campfire, but where it really shines is in bringing all types together around itself. It’s hard to stay mad or misunderstood when all gazing into the leaping mesmerizing flames together.
            Before you knew it all the women will be showing each other how to cook whatzit, and comparing labor stories. (You know this is true. It’s a default.)
            Then the mighty hunters and the artisans will be comparing notes and planning expeditions or building projects. Another default.
            Basically, I just wish we could sit around a fire together. Maybe someday, somehow, we will.

💛

A Tootsday Note From Ralph, Himself

 

Hey, Everybody!
            I just wanted you to know I'm thinking about you. Does that surprise you? It shouldn’t! I keep up to date.
            Special Tootsday greetings to the girl herself. Hey, Toots! Howzit going? I know you’re keeping an eye on things. If anything “Off” shows up, you’ll be the first to know! Then you’ll tell Suzy and the word will go out! Better tell LoneStar Neanderthal first though.
            Let’s see.. I want you guys to know that you have special dispensation to visit the Great Forest. I don’t give out many of these special dispensations! I hope you do come sometime. Just take highway 530 up to where it meets SR20 and hang a right. Park in that wide spot. Maeve will find you. Then she will find me and, yadda yadda! Let’s talk!
            I’m sorry to hear that Fred in Alaska had a bad time with the local Wild Men. It seems to be an armed camp up there. History, I guess. I’m sending my wishes for peace and understanding to everybody up there. It can be better.
            Greetings to the Domestic Predators! Ha ha! Cats. We have a couple of those here too, as you know.
            Ramona sends her love. Cherry is pretty shy, but she does too. She said she wishes you could see how big Blue is getting.
            Uncle Bob is standing here grinning.
 
With All My Best Wishes,
Ralph

💚🍃🌲🍁🌲🌿💚

Portrait made on my birthday!