BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

One of the questions I get asked on a regular basis is –

Murv… Sellars… How is it… That you… Are able to keep… Things straight… When you are… Writing?

As a rule, the odd hesitations between words and phrases sort of freaks me out, but I just figure the person asking was doing way too much Uncle Cidney in their teens while listening to Steve Martin comedy albums. All of us old farts will get that reference, trust me.

But anyway… (No, not a Blues Traveler ref, although it could be)… I usually explain that I am what’s called a “Seat of the Pants” writer. That means I have an idea, I know how it starts and kind of know how I want it to end. I might even know a couple of things I’d like to have happen in between, but the journey to get there isn’t really plotted until I sit down and start taking dictation from my characters.

Now, to keep things straight for them, I have books. As in binders that contain biographical data, etc. Mostly because since I write a series I have to be able to stay in touch with the arc and maintain canon (one n, not two, meaning it doesn’t go boom unless I screw up.)

However, I have to stay on track for a given story arc within a novel as well. That’s where rectangles come in.

“Rectangles?” you ask.

“Yes, rectangles,” I answer.

Behold – the incredible, versatile, and really especially cool, Index Card…

Don't bother trying to enlarge it. I blurred all the info, mwuhahaha...

So there’s your answer… I have a corkboard, a pencil, some pushpins, and a whole lot of index cards…

Bet ya’ thought I was talking about dextroamphetamine when you saw that title, didn’t you? Awww, c’mon Eileen. You know better than that…

More to come…

Murv

So, the redhead has another guy in her life.

I had been under the impression for the past 25+ years that we were a monogamous couple. However, I guess that was just wishful thinking on my part, because it seems we aren’t.

I’ve suspected there was someone else for quite some time now. But, the evidence was sparse. However, in recent weeks, he has become bolder with each passing day.

I first noticed this boldness a couple of weeks ago. The alarm would sound, and as usual I would climb out of the sack, go start the coffee, and hit the restroom before climbing back into bed to give the redhead her morning backrub. At first it was just something in my peripheral vision, but it wasn’t long before his silhouette was right out there for me to see.

Not long after that, I caught him red handed. You see, when the second alarm goes off, I climb back out of bed, grab a cup of coffee, and head upstairs to the office. One morning a week or so back, I was lagging a bit behind in heading for the coffee pot, probably due to a Benadryl hangover. That’s when he became more than a silhouette. In fact, we literally ran right into one another as he skulked through the door to climb into bed in my place.

He was surprised, as was I. However, it didn’t stop him. No more did I fill my coffee cup and head toward the office than he was cuddled up next to the redhead, loving on her like something out of a really bad bodice ripper.

I guess I can live with it, for now… But I’ll say this: If the fat, furry, tuna-breathed little bastard horks up a hairball on my pillow, he’s toast.

More to come…

Murv