Foundation Trilogy...

I am sick of Southwest Airlines. They used to be really good and had decent routes, but in the last ten years or so they've lost everything that made me want to fly them.

I didn't mind the cattle car loading because I almost always got the seat I wanted, even if at the end of the A group. Their prices were better. Their schedules were workable and their on-time landings and departures were really good, as was the time between connections. And you could check bags for free.

But all that's gone and today showed me how bad they've become. I had to fly from Buffalo to Baltimore to Denver to Little Rock to get in at a decent hour. If I'd left around noon to 1pm, I would not have arrived till 11pm. Since I have to get up at 7am to go get packing materials, that was not going to work. 

So...I got up at 7am to get to the airport and check a bag. I'm flying their version of business class so got a good seat near the front on every flight.

The first leg of the trip was fine, but going to Denver...we left 25 minutes late. My connection time in Denver was 50 minutes, which was still workable...but we also lost time in the flight and landed even later. My plane hadn't even reached its gate when I was notified the flight to Little Rock was boarding.

On top of that, we came in at gate C57 but I was slated to fly out of gate C24. Half a mile away. With less than 12 minutes to make it before the door closed. I managed, with 2 minutes to spare...but my back hurts now from running with a backpack.

Fortunately, my bag made it, too.

This is not the first time that's happened with Southwest. I guess I'm going to have to deal with airlines like American, Delta, JetBlue (who also used to be good but now are just difficult), and United. Prices aren't all that different, so choose whoever has the best schedule.

How tedious and tiring travel has become.

Traveling man, again...

I'm heading to a packing job in Little Rock, Arkansas, in the morning, where they expect temps to be 100+ for the week I'm there. The job's already turned into a chore, so now all I can hope is the house I'm working in has a good AC.

I'm Ubering to the airport at 8am, which is early for me. I like flying around noonish. But it's that or I don't get into the town until 11pm, which is midnight, my time. Then having to get up at 7am to pick up packing materials? Not acceptable.

I used this job and its issues to keep from thinking about The Murder of a Quiet Man and I find myself, right now, being even farther from it. I guess it was a mistake to start the book without knowing what its meaning was. Because if it's just to point out how screwed up our system of justice is, I've done that in several other of my books. I've been repetitious enough.

There's not all that much sex involved, meaning it's not going to be erotica because what there is deals with how Simon is treated by others, including Doyle. And it's not a bio of an older gay man's life. So what am I doing with it? I'm just plain blank.

Something that did come up  the last couple days is me taking some time away on my own. Which segued into me driving up to Montreal to research Adam's life for Dair's Window. Or taking the train or a bus. Not sure which.

I also looked into doing the cross-Canada trip from Toronto to Vancouver, but that's thousands of dollars, even in US currency. But Adam travels on it when he's escaping his situation in Toronto, so maybe I should, too...

Does that mean I'm shifting from MQM back to DW? It would be consistently inconsistent of me.

Taking time off...

Christopher Thompson

No writing today and nothing tomorrow...and for I don't know how long. Maybe having a break from everything will help me reconnect with Simon's story.

When next week's job in Little Rock is done, I may dip into my savings and go someplace I've never been. Like Norway. We'll see how I feel once it's over. 

Another fucking crash and burn...

Sean Cheetham, artist in oils

I thought I knew what the structure was for The Murder of a Quiet Man. Start simple and silent and slowly build Simon's character as the prosecution and police fight to make him back down. I began by saying he's going to be killed, soon, so I felt like I could get away with a slow beginning.

Along the way, he's finding stories of others who faced the same issue...and how one who also fought the charges wound up in jail and had to register as a sex offender. Making his life hell. 

Which might give the police and prosecution solid reason to keep prosecuting Simon. If he proves Paley was lying about his arrest, that might provide the other man with an excuse to demand his case be reopened.

Well...today I tried to shift one of Simon's memories to a bit later in the story, which then caused an imbalance in another part and a concern about if something else is too much...and before I knew it, the whole structure had collapsed.

It's just lying there in pieces. The only thing I can even think to do is start over, and I'm lost as to how to go about it.

When I say lost, I mean completely. I cannot think of where to start or how to make it fit back together. Do I cut this and put it there? Do I need another character to help with the transition or the explanation or the meaning? Where do I start? What the fuck do I do?

I tell myself to just get something down and then worry about it working or making sense, but I can't write like that. I need to know where I'm coming from and have at least a vague idea of where I'm going...and I don't, anymore.

I just want to retreat into the shadows...like Simon does...

Better...

Got more done on MQM. 108 pages, which puts me up to Chapter Ten and over 60,000 words. That's with me cutting some repetition. I still had a couple of moments of What the fuck and I doing and Why am I even trying creep into my brain, but I was able to circle around them and let them dissipate.

Something that seems to be rising in the telling of Simon's story is along the lines of The world has always been unfair and we're just no longer able to avoid the reality of it. Nor are we willing to do anything to change that. One or two people can make no difference, not really, but getting more on board is greater than a Herculean task. It's impossible in today's world. It's too fucking chaotic.

That sounds pretty bleak. But I'm taken back to Voltaire's Candide, again and again, where he comes to the conclusion that it's best to just tend to yourself. There's also Cervantes' Don Quixote, where after all his misadventures and troubles, the Don renounces chivalry as foolish, and dies. Both books looked at the world and saw how seriously it and the people in it were lacking in worth.

I don't think for one second I'm on their level, but I can't see what other direction this story can go.

It's hard to deal with the world, at the moment, because it's now all fucking available to you with a few clicks on a keyboard. You have to make a conscious effort not to fall into that whirlpool of shit, especially considering the assholes currently running things.

So today I just had just one serious goal -- do my laundry. And managed it. Also made my bed with clean sheets. Heated some leftovers in an attempt to declutter my fridge. My back hurts, as does my neck, but I'm handling it with Icy hot and Advil. 

Small victories, I suppose.

Comfort food...

When I was growing up, one of the few meals my mother knew how to make was what we called Beanie-weenies. It was a hot dog sliced in half, lengthwise, and put on a piece of plain bread. Then spoonfuls of Campbell's Pork & Beans were layered over them and a slice of Kraft Processed Cheese put on top, then bake at 350 for 20-25 minutes.

It was cheap and filling. A meal for less $0.60, which came in handy considering how poor we were. Granted, that was back when I could eat  cheap hot dogs with chicken crap in them, and it was also the middle Sixties.

Now? I can only make it with Turkey dogs from Oscar Mayer, since they have no chicken in them. It works with Bush's baked beans and Velveeta cheese slices, too.

I continue to love it, even with the adjustments. It's one of the foods I break out when things get to be too overwhelming and I need something to focus on to keep me from crashing into immobility...and I needed it, today.

Another comfort food is making a meatloaf with onion, green pepper and carrot worked into a pound of ground beef, with leftover rice. Cut up some potatoes and carrots to put around it. Slather it all with Campbell's Tomato Soup and bake at 375 for an hour, and that's five meals. Including at least one meatloaf sandwich on plain bread with Sandwich Spread.

I'd have done that, tonight, but I don't have any green pepper, carrots or potatoes, and it's just not right without them. And it has to be right for it to work.

So my Beanie-weenie did the job. I'm calmer. Still don't know why I started spinning off...but now I can relax. And try to figure it out...because I was getting a lot done on MQM.

Jesus, how fucking crazy am I?

And it just goes and goes...

Pumped up the interview with the gay reporter. Named him Zacharia Oldman, and he gets Simon to start seeing that the town is run by the Prosecutor and police, and that no one wants to cause trouble. There's a certain way things are done there, and Simon is upsetting everything by not taking a deal.

It's still on the weak side but works for now. It helps that Zack is black or partially so. I don't think I'm going to specify except to say his skin is the color of Simon's tea, which is a quarter milk. He may play into this later.

Something I've realized about my writing is how few minority characters I have, overall. I don't really specify race, for the most part, though I have included Muslims and Jews. But there are next to none who are black or Asian except in the very periphery.

Jake is half-Irish-half-Persian, in VoT, and I've found a digital content creator named Sean Hammond who is exactly that. Hunter has a couple black guys in fair-size parts at the end, and Bobby has a couple teammates who are black or Latino in BC. Dirc doesn't care if the men he grabs are white, black or Latino, in DDB and DDC.

But ReShawn and Viona are my first fully black characters who are important to the story...and along comes Zach, who is probably half and half and I'm not going to specify. He just is. And I like that.

I'm at 59,000 words, now, and still adding. Yeah, this is going to be a full-fledged novel.

Which is cool.

From the beginning...

I've started working on MQM in a linear fashion and am through to the point where Simon is arrested. I added more back and forth between him and Paley that could almost sound like he's asking the cop to go back to his hotel room to take some photos. 

Which he isn't; Paley is not attractive to him and says so. And that is when he is arrested. Almost like the guy got his feelings hurt.

I've added in a meeting with a local LGBTQA+ reporter that needs some pumping up, and also did some work on the ending. That kept me up till 4am, but it's a lot better.

Thing is...I'm still trying to understand the why of the story. Why these characters? Why this structure and outline? I honestly have no idea, yet. Am I being stupid in writing a story that makes no real sense?

I can be very stupid. That's half the reason I am where I am, today, instead of a roaring success. There's a part of me that gets frustrated and confused, and when I that happens I just go fuck it and do something to push forward. 

But on the few occasions where I powered through and put aside my inner warnings, half the time it turned into a full-on fiasco. Helping Tony LoPresti with Wilderness Rules was one. I should have killed it the moment it started going off the rails. 

Then there was going along with people I knew and trusted on making Bugzters suitable for a animation film. That was never going to work. And my first move to LA was nonstop stupidity, as was moving to NYC before I really was ready for the city.

I'm trying not to be stupid, again, but no telling if I'll succeed....

An artist going by Silverjow posted the process he follows to do a work of graphic art on his computer. 

I got this off Instagram.

Even at my best, I was nowhere near his level...

But could Simon be?

Bit of a deviation...

Today I worked on Simon's coloring book, which will be used against him by the prosecution. Each four lines would fit a sketch to be colored in, with the words embedded in the frame around them. I may publish it as a companion to Demented Dreams: of guys in trouble. Maybe...Demented Dreams, of guys gone missing.

I may bring it up to 24 frames...so 24 stanzas. We'll see...

-------

1.
So Johnny was the kind of lad
Who treated his girl, Jen, so bad
It often made her very sad...
Till one of her friends said she had

2.
A way to handle any boy
Who thought all females were a toy
To use, and knew she would enjoy

The way it truly would annoy

3.
Him. So Jen made the final call.
A guy named Hank said, “Leave it all
With us. He’s the kind who’ll enthrall
My men to join me at the mall.”

4.
So Jen left Johnny on his own
Outside the ladies’ room. She’d shown

Hank who he was. “He is well-grown,”

Said Hank. “So no need to postpone.”

5.
The flyers warned of the same thing,
Young men were missing, with their name
And photos posted. It’s no game.
Seems Hank and his crew were to blame.

6.
Which they proved, grabbing Johnny quick
And strong. All he could do is kick
And twist, but they knew every trick
To gain control. It was so slick.

7.
His jacket was tossed from the truck.
No Stars and Bars. Those are bad luck.
Jen grabbed it, quickly, from the muck
And waved bye to the little schmuck.

8.
So Johnny was well-gagged and bound
Both hand and foot. They did not pound
Him, as there was no need, they found,
For all was done without a sound.

9.
That was when Hank thought to explore
To see what Johnny had, and more.
Pulled down his jeans. His shirt he tore.
Same for his briefs. “Guys, we did score,”

10. 

Said Hank. “He’ll bring us lots of bucks.
His dick and ass are so deluxe,
And he’s a virgin. That instructs
Us...prepare for a cash influx.”

11. 

Then Ricky, who’s part of the team
Asked Hank, “May I fulfill a dream
Of bringing forth his first full stream
Caused by a man? See if he’ll scream.”

12.

Hank said, “Okay. One caveat.
His ass remains a virgin spot
As does his mouth. Because my thought
Is those untouched means he’ll be bought

13. 

For twice the money I’ll announce.
I know of clients who will pounce
On bidding for him. It may bounce
To triple. Each will want to trounce

14. 

The other.” So the game was set.
And in the warehouse, they were met
By more men, who were to abet
In prepping Johnny. They would get

15. 

Him stripped and bathed and bound so he
Was nude, to be viewed openly,
Thus proving everything they’d see
Was real, for which all could agree.

16. 

Johnny was sweet, both front and back.
Worth every penny they might tack

Onto his value. With no lack
Of clients placing bids. They’d crack

17. 

All records. Money pledged so high
Hank had to tell his female spy
“See what we’re making here? Let’s try
To find more men just like this guy.”

18. 

She showed him half a dozen more
Of soldiers, sailors she could score.
Just jerks who treat girls like a whore.
So vanish them into Hank’s store.

19.
Which wasn’t patronized on Earth.
Up off the planet there’s no dearth
Of humanoids, who find great mirth
In using fine young males of worth.

20. 

Above ten-million was the bid
For Johnny, that won them the kid.

So into a pod he was slid
And of him, now the world was rid.