Paint with words

The hint of salt flavored the air while the sea lazily rolled upon the shore in casual waves.  Shadows flickered in spasms both harsh and vague upon both stucco walls and plastic furniture.

Flashed of color exploded to the sounds of music.

Booms of crimson.

Shrieks of lime.

Crashes of turquoise.

Flashes of yellow.

Deep rumblings of purple.

Colors flying and twirling in rhythms and beats that flow strong and joyous in the air.

Arms wave while legs flow.

A bonfire of humanity in celebration flares in contrast to the coolness of the night.

The breeze seductively kisses while leaves blush and yield in response.

The light and the dark; the strong and the soft; the loud and the quiet all mix together in a world you bring to life.

Feel the energy.

Taste the air.

Smell the fragrance.

Hear the rapture.

See the life in all its brightness.

This is what you bring to the world.  This is your gift when you write, blog, or speak.

Paint with words.

Text is black on white for a reason.

It is so you can paint the picture as vibrant or as dark as you want the reader to envelope.

Use your palate to its fullest.

Paint with words.

The Conversation

(Just a little fun every author has.)

“Don’t do it.”  The voice whispers as I rub my bleary eyes with the heels of my palms.

“Why shouldn’t I?”  I ask “It seems like a fun way to get a story going.”

“Because of the ramifications.” The voice warns.  “Strong, very strong ramifications.”

Sadie, my yellow lab starts bouncing around and running to the door.  She had just been out less than twenty minutes ago, but she acting like she hasn’t been out in a decade.  Reluctantly I get up and follow her out the door.

“It’s been years since I’ve had this idea.” I state as Sadie waters the lawn.  “Why won’t you let this one grow?”

“It’s too soon.”  The voice calls back.  “The world is not ready for it.”

I follow Sadie back in and close the door behind me.  “Too soon?”  I ask.  “When is it too soon for Sci-Fi to be written?”

“When it can compel others to act upon the ideas before they are mature enough.”

“Oh now you’re grasping at straws.”  I snap back.  “Comic books have been out since the Fifties and nobody’s trying to grow claws or bond metal to their skeleton.”

“No but they have mixed animal DNA with plants just to see what happens.”   The voice counters.

“Yeah.” I agree, relenting on this point. “”But it was going to happen eventually.”

“Yes, but we made sure it happened at the right time.”  The voice comments.  “It’s what we do.”

“Sure you did.”  I chuckle.  “Like you’re not a manifestation of too much Pepsi and too little sleep cause by the time change this week.”

“Are you so sure?”  The voice asks.  “Maybe I’m from the future communicating to you through your own thoughts inside your mind.”

I take another sip of Pepsi.  “Right.  Uh-huh.  Sure you are.  And I’m the Flamenco King of Zaire.”

“I see the Theta waves are getting to you.”  The voice replies dryly.

“Theta waves. Yeah sure.”

The voice explains, “Theta waves are what we use to communicate across both time and space.  It’s how we can observe different species in different places at different moments in history without interfering with the timeline.”

“Ah.”  I comment, “The almighty ‘Time Directive’.  Just like in Star Trek.   But one thing.  You’re breaking that directive by talking to me.  In essence, you are changing the timeline.  That is, if you were real and not a figment of my imagination.  Overactive imagination.”

“Interesting that you would bring up Star Trek” The voice says. “The Star Trek era of exploration only happens after the population of Earth comes joins together over their political, economic, and religious differences.”

“Yeah.”  I counter. “But that only happens after a nuclear war and the influence of Vulcans.”

“Imagine what would happen if that unification never happened.”  The voice offers.  “What untold misery would it bring onto others?  Disease?  War? Genocide?  The wholesale slaughter done to innocents by the thoughtless acts of humans too immature to even conceive of the risks they pose just by stepping onto alien soil? Is this what you would have?”

My mouth tightens before I swig down more Pepsi.  “Dude.  Lighten up.  They’re just stories.”

“Yes they are.  But they can inspire people with degrees or dreams to build the platforms to leave without humanity being ready for it.  That is why you must stop before doing this.”

“Is this why you had Windows do an ungodly long service package to my computer tonight?  Because if that is so, it was not cool!  That damn thing took a half hour out of my writing time.  I hated that!”

The voice rises a little in my head; instinctively I know that’s the best it can do to yell.  “Listen!  If this goes forth, whole planets will die out including Earth.”

“Why would the Earth die?”  I ask.

“In retaliation to all the deaths and suffering  on other planets caused by humans.”  The voice replies.  “Surely you didn’t think our actions wouldn’t have consequences.”

I sit blankly at this.

The voice implores. “You must wait until humanity has evolved before sharing your ideas.  They must lay dormant for now.  Let your treasures lie buried until discovered at the proper time.”

I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath.

“Nah.”  I decide.  “I’m going to go through with this.  It’s going to be fun.  It would happen eventually anyway.   Besides you forgot the biggest Star Trek theory of all.  There is a dimension for every choice to be made or not made.  A dimension for when I turned left and one when I turned right.  For all I know this dimension is the one where I write these stories and nothing happens other than entertaining people.  Beside, for all I know, you’re just a creative play of words used to aid in me filling this story.”

My head is silent as I post this up to Word Press and go to bed.

The bridge

The dreams reached

The adventures achieved

The journey continued

Loved ones met

All because of me.

Now I need you to reach the other side.

Leanne Cole Photography

Thanks to Leanne Cole for her wonderful photo and inspiration.

http://leannecolephotography.com/2014/06/05/a-quiet-day/leannecole-kyneton-australia-abandonedbridge-20131002-8662/

 

Thoughts on: Inspirations

What inspires you to write?  What gets your creative juices flowing?  Sometimes daydreams just don’t come that day, or you are distracted by outer forces in your life.  So what do you do?

Find something to inspire you.

Now don’t make that out to be more than it is.  An inspiration doesn’t have to come from on high or some master megalomaniacal creation.  An inspiration can come from something as simple as the coffee you had this morning.

Let’s use that for example.  Think back to the morning when you first had that cup of coffee.  What was the moment like?  What did you look at?  What was the mood?  Was it calm and serene or was it active and chaotic?  What were the smells?  Was it dark or light?  Or was it that weird semi-grey transitional period that happens just before the dawn?  Is it dawn or is it during those odd moments caused by working the swing or late shift?  How would you describe you perfect cup of coffee moment?

See? There can be a lot of inspiration from a cup of coffee.  It doesn’t have to even be coffee or even a drink for that matter.  The goal isn’t to write the great American novel.  The goal is to get the juices flowing so you can create thoughts of your great American novel, blog, or memoir.

So take a moment to look around you and grab some random thing.  Hold it in your hand and see how it can inspire you.