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Morning confessions, afternoon daydreams, and evening wind-downs. |
This is dedicated to my daughter, Azalea Paige Kraynak. You're half the cause of some of these entries, but that's why I love you. There's rarely a day that you don't surprise me with the things you do and say. I've changed since the start of this, of course I think that's to be expected - I'm not an overworked pessimist anymore. I'm and adequately worked, for the most part happy idealist who holds the occasional cynical view of someone whose done seen some @$*#. That said, these are the new and improved ramblings of a guy who lives a life that I find to be occasionally comical. |
I haven't updated in a few days, and for that I apologize. Writing this current novel has taken a good portion of my free time so blogging as much as I enjoy it, is a secondary endeavor. I haven't made a lot of progress in word count—well I have, but much of that tends to get thinned and moved around. I tend to get deeply philosophical when I write. I know most folks really don't enjoy the droning on and on of the inward reflections of a character, myself included but for some reason, that is often how my muse manifests itself. That said, there's nothing wrong with philosophical moments in a story. I do work them in, and sometimes pull them out, there to add a bit of reflective spice to character development that ought be driven by narrative. So, that constant droning muse winds up being a different sort of muse that I might use actions to arrive at those reflective conclusions I started with in the first place. All that said, progress on the story has been a bit of an uphill battle, one that has been well fought and enjoyable. The character is developing almost on its own, writing himself in ways I hadn't first anticipated but working well into the original narrative. I've been spending inordinate amounts of time during my other routines, thinking of ways I might develop these continuously evolving paths of the character development. The problem with that is I'm kind of an oaf. Ponderous and clumsy in absolutely no short supply. I do stupid things when people aren't looking, and sometimes when they are, which to my great expense tend to be somewhat embarrassing. I had resolved to surprise my wife over the couple days I had off, with making her an eggs benedict breakfast. It's one of her and I's favorite breakfasts, but its tedious and kind of a pain to get right, but when you do, by God is that a rewarding way to start the day! There's an old saying though: Don't put all your eggs in one basket. There's a lot of different ways I can explore this old proverb, from the metaphorical to the practical, but I'm going to look at it for what it is. Don't put all your damn eggs into one basket. Simple. I did, then I dropped it. None of this is a metaphor. I literally dropped the egg basket on the kitchen floor. I've got 5 hens, that give us usually 3 eggs a day. Over the course of a week, that's a lot of eggs. I have a little carrier for them when I go out to get them, which I then bring inside and do whatever. Well, thinking of all these neat ways to work on the story I've been so enthralled with, I dropped all the damn eggs I put into the damn basket. That was a mess to which I can't describe brought about a wave of the most unheard-of spewing of obscenities the likes of which would have impressed even Ralphie's dad from "A Christmas Story." I spoke in tongues. Seriously I think I invented words. I used 2 whole rolls of paper towels to clean up that mess, and I think there's probably still some shells laying around somewhere that I might have missed. I might add, we didn't have eggs benedict that morning. We had oatmeal. I still continuously think about this damn story and how to word certain bits, and still stupid things happen because I'm so engaged in my own thoughts. But please people, for the love of God, DON'T. EVER. PUT. ALL. YOUR. EGGS. IN. ONE. BASKET. J. M. Kraynak ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() The current cause of all my calamity:
Stop on by and let me know what you think. |