Mid-morning. Breakfast and the Sunday paper. You are presently in the shade at north Pine Hill Lakes Park. Carol is walking. You still have your exercises to do. Last night you forgot to upload the last notes from last evening. Here they are:
*
You and Carol had the last of the turkey soup for supper. For lunch Smashburgers at Carol's request. You both love their Smash sweet potato fries over Five Guys fries, that's what it came down to. After watching the national news on CBS and NBC you watched another DVRed episode of the British comedy, "Outnumbered". You laugh aloud at least once at each viewing. Carol is on the phone with Linda in Tampa and you are fussing about readying with more organized color coded documents and folders for chapter two. - Amorella
2043 hours. I have no idea where to begin the material for "The Dead.2". I should have a folder for each of the four sections to put the chapter documents in order to follow as to their sense.
For "The Dead" only. The rest are already set. You are apprehensive because the page is blank. Relax. We'll begin. - Amorella
*
You did spend some time proofreading and correcting on your iPad without iCloud you did not have the opportunity.
It is very enjoyable to see the work on iPad because it has a different look and feel, plus with the built in keypad it is perfect for corrected grammatical and structural errors. I will continue to go through the chapter and will not publish it as a chapter on the blog until I have.
I am surprised you found iCloud so much to your liking as you didn't think it would be much use to the likes of yourself. - Amorella
I couldn't get it to work properly then when I downloaded the newest OS, Mountain Lion, it came prepackaged and automatic. The first thing I noticed after loading was that my yellow notes only on my iPad were on my MacAir desktop. I thought, "very cool" but I did not see how it was going to come into play with book four which is what I was still working on. Once I got the hang of Page and recognized its convenience (yesterday) it is great. Who would have thought? Now that I have 'grammar' on full I am fixing more errors that I generally don't pay that close attention to. All for the good and my 'rush' to contentment.
You will have to mention the 'contentment' to muse Laney. - Amorella
She is busy with Xavier beginning classes, besides I think she and the family are still heading off to London shortly. I'm sure she has enough on her mind without me barging in. I would rather create a copy for her when the book is complete -- actually to send an ebook version to each of my first readers when completed. That will be soon enough. If they want to follow along they know it is being written and put on the blog. I pestered those kind people for three years when writing the published version -- all those notes plus manuscript. At least it wasn't on paper. I thanked them for their kindness and patience. I don't know what they might think of my writing personality. With them, I do care. I'm glad I'm cleaning this one up for the likes of the older Owen and Brennan. As a retired teacher, I should have done this the first time, but I didn't. Earthy honesty was more important than politeness. Those books are still there if anyone wants to read a rawer version. That time has changed for me. I just hope I have the time to complete these revamped works. I have had more life experience (perspective) and have learned more about the Dead (for the books) in the last three years, which should also add dimensions and refinement to the new version. Then I will be satisfied and content that I finished my life being myself, perhaps being less than honest but more polite. Being polite makes people more comfortable including myself. What else can I say?
You have no need to say any more than you have. You feel better already. Work at the pace you have begun, to do otherwise would constitute arrogance and pride and a twisted justification for your having been born. Your stubborn will made the decision to live in those days and months immediately following birth. Don't blame your parents or the environs of a world war. The decision cannot materialize (so to speak) unless you are not fully acting on in your own physical existential sense of being. The body is built to 'understand' its situation. Unconsciousness, the whole of the anatomic system, the sense of will 'understands' the situation also. "I am alive. I must grow and mature if I wish to continue living." It appears to be built into all living consciousness. That's what your philosophy suggests. - Amorella
1123 hours. We are sitting in the shade at the McDonalds on Kings Mills Road and the corner of King Road that goes past King's Island Amusement Park. We each have cold drinks and split a Hershey's bar with almonds we had had in the freezer. Carol is reading a Money magazine and I am going to work on "The Dead" section.
I have completed the section. Well, the sense of the scene. Never in a million years would I have come up with such a narrative. I find it quite amusing but I don't know if readers would. It is a bit naughty in its nature and even worse, Freudian.
Which adds to the delight, does it not? Place what you have below, the post. - Amorella
This is devilish wicked, Amorella
It is a human piece, boy. Let it go at that. This Merlyn is no supernatural fellow. He misses his Vivian, that's all. Had he thought to call you by your childhood name, Dickie, he might have saved all this. Alas, Richard came to mind instead.
1715 hours. Humor saves my day. What else can I say.
*** ***
Chapter Two
The Dead (draft)
Merlyn sat on a mind-made stone stump wondering what thought balls were about to hit the table. I have witnessed much having been dead since the late 600's. Anno Domini is what we were taught. Druids learned Greek and Latin back then. This is what society expected, and this is what we did. He noticed the white cue ball materialize on the nearby billiard table for first time.
Quite an eclectic setting I've nested in here, smiled Merlyn -- the makings of a clearing and billiard table with the stump I'm sitting on, a small stream trickling nearby by the please of ears that do not exist. Blue sunless sky above stands high above. No one sees our brooch, our yellow sun, no such adornments in this place. The sky shows its blue tunic, and an occasional white fluffy pin or pale bone or two. No one among the Dead can create a rain swept or snow-laden field that sheorhe had the pleasure of witnessing in life. Beyond the blue garment or cloak I can see the transparency of chessboard walls holding my spirit, my heartansoulanmind within. My solitary fortress, my inner soul wall clams me in. I am not stuckinagray as the marsupial-humanoids are. I have brushed their souls though. Highly conscious beings such as we humans are now together, interacting with our heartsanminds, well, with mine anyway.
Out of the corner of his eye Merlyn saw the cue ball move down the table, hit the rubber on the far end and come almost straight back to where it had been.
You did not hear the cue ball tap one of your solids, switched the Supervisor.
'I did not.'
'I put it in the far right pocket.'
'What unconscious thought of mine did that you put away?'
'The boatman.'
Merlyn smiled in surprise. 'I don't have to pay the boatman?' proclaimed Merlyn's heart with more childhood energy than Merlyn realized he had.
'You pay, boy,' snapped Merlyn's mind. ' Everybody pays the boatman, even the Supervisor.'
Merlyn muttered, 'the pearly white Gate of Heaven sets on the very far side of this rubescent River Styx.'
'The Styx is where you are,' commented the Supervisor dryly.
A ferry, flashed through Merlyn, Richard's childhood Captain Lamar has a ferry. I can return to earth by the ferry once I find the boatman. ('Which Richard?' asked the elephant in the room.) Merlyn who was not fully reading the writing on the wall, grumbled, 'Who is Richard?'
Gloama appeared, this time caught like tiny, naked and a faery white seed caught in Merlyn's left third fingernail. 'Prick they fingerless finger,' she suggested while caressing and seducing his fleshy induced finger into her feminine comfort.
'Whoa,' whispered Merlyn thinking Vivian was at the very least kissing or even sucking slowly on his third left finger that didn't really exist.
The eight ball sat at the very center of the table. I have no balls, thought Merlyn, not even the cue ball to knock that mother of an eight ball away.
*** **
2123 hours. I have already made some changes to the above. I am feeling a bit self-conscious putting the draft on the blog when it is not fully completed.
It is a draft, boy. - Amorella
But people can read it.
Transparency, the Piper must be paid. - Amorella
It's not that way in this fiction.
Really. - Amorella
What is the purpose for showing all these writing steps?
Transparency. - Amorella
Why?
To prevent anyone from presenting you in a way that is not honest, it is a form of protection for you. - Amorella
I am naked and therefore vulnerable.
How do you think the Dead feel? Post. - Amorella
What a way to learn a lesson.
Tonight in a note to Kay you told her you hoped to be able to give these novels away free as ebooks. These lessons are not free for you. Why should they be free for anyone else? Everyone pays the Piper including myself. - Amorella
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