Something I’ve noticed: when I don’t have very vivid dreams, I sleep better. At least that was the case for last night. The previous two night, I’ve had crazy, vivid dreams, and I wake up tired and spend the day fighting to stay awake from the git-go; last night–I know I had a dream, but I couldn’t tell you what it was if I had to. All I know is I feel fine this morning. Can’t say for sure what I’m going to feel like at 9 AM when I’ve been in our warm, stuffy office for ninety minutes, but right now, I’m pretty much good.
That was a phrase I used a bit last night: ”Are we good?” Was back into Transporting last night, and got in two small mini-scenes, all leading up to The Event, and it was a lot of system checking and watching things happen, and by the time the 866 words were gone I was almost at the point where I needed a couple of hundred more words to describe something big–but I was just too tired. So I left it, saved it, and at some point late tonight I’ll get down another five, six hundred words, and find myself that much closer to the end of Chapter 45–
Which, surprisingly, is almost 5,000 words long. That is a number I never expected to see. I always thought this chapter would be a quick one, maybe a couple of thousand words tops, but here I am, inching up toward the top end of a short story once more, and I figure I’ve got another thousand or so before it stops.
That chapter is about love. It really is. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why it’s so long, because I have a lot to say about the subject. Or so I think, because that’s the way my mind works. It’s all about love and finding it and sharing it . . . having it for those very close to you.
I can write about it, but the reality is I know very little about it.
If I think very, very hard about it, I can say I’ve been in love–actual falling down, crazy in the head in love–four times. It’s a good feeling, it really is. It’s a feeling that makes you feel on top of the world one moment, and the very next you want to jab pencils into both eyes and run off into the woods to be eaten by bears. Or is that my bi-polar state speaking to me, and I’m just confused?
Sometimes it’s difficult to tell, because love does make you insane, and as a famous hotel owner once said, “We all go a little mad sometimes.” We go right up to the edge of out of our head mental, and when you’re truly in love, one will find themselves in moments when they decide to go all Thelma & Louise and drive right over the edge, straight into the abyss.
Why does one want to put themselves through that? I wonder, I really do. Because I don’t like feeling mental all the time. I don’t like feeling like my spirit is going to three or four different directions at the same time, and the center simply can’t hold, man, it just can’t.
And then I find a moment where I have my moment of clarity, and it all makes sense. I embrace what I’ve taken to be my special moment, I hold onto it tightly, and I keep it close to my heart.
I then live another day, because I want that moment to come again.
Transporting is a love story. Yes, it’s science fiction, but love is an undercurrent running throughout the entire story. One of the characters nearly dies because of it–what do I mean, nearly: they do die, but they come back to life just like one of the X-Men. Why does that happen? Because they love someone, and they put themselves in a position where, in order to help that person, they suffer beatings and concussions and broken bones to save the person they love from something that has–well, it’s something that had hurt them for more than a decade. And they succeed.
I’ve been in that position before. I’ve been where I’d burn down the world if it meant saving the person I love. I’d go Godzilla and stomp everything in sight to keep that person safe.
If it meant to die for that person . . . yeah, go the extra mile, you’ll feel better in the end.
It’s out there, the crazy love that makes you insane to the point where you need to be locked up. It’s in my story . . .
And . . .