Few and Far between, a lesson in forging

So there I was standing over a cliff, the view of a expansive ocean lay upon my eyes as if I am guilty of the most simplistic pleasure, the awe and gaze of the sun gleaming across the blue and into the horizon, then I woke up. I sat in bed wondering what was happening as the transition from dream into reality occurred without even a warning. I still could smell the salt from the air of the dream and almost grasp the sounds of the ocean hitting the bottom of the cliff. This had to be one of the best vivid dreams I have ever had. The one the beats this dream is from the other day. In this dream I found two young men breaking into my house, I contained them in the garage until I could call police, but my father had gotten home and they escaped. I tracked them down to an old farm house with a couple of classic muscle cars outside the barn doors.  When I approached the barn a beautiful woman came out to great me. She thanked me for bringing her brothers home and stared into my eyes for what seemed about 5 minutes. What began as a thank you quickly turned into me remembering this woman. In the dream I knew her from my past, a long lost love in my life I thought I would never see again. She remembered and hugged me as if she was searching for me the entire time. We left the barn and talked about how much we missed one another and what the future now may hold. I walked her back to her house and told her I want to see her again sometime, but she fell into m arms and told me to never let go. One tear fell out of her eye as she peered into mine as if she was searching for what soul I may have left. I began to close in on her and we kissed for the first time in the dream. Everything turned white after that, as I can only imagine what the dream could mean as far as  reality goes and life in general. I think I may use this in my book somehow and incorporate the sci-fi edge the book has into the overall story. Maybe tonight I will dream of something different. I do need a nice war sequence and bloody battle for the book!

Where the wind blows cold

I trampled through the day without the notion that everything was turning grey. The point I am making is everyone and everything is on edge, from the twister that killed over 90 people to the reactions of plain bitterness I get from asking around for some help. Strange how people react without looking in your face to see you talking. But that is just the underlining of a more important thought, where will I be 5 or 10 years from now. I do not want to be that bitter person, I want to have my trilogy completed and working on the 4th or 5th novel by that point. You see, the pain and bitterness I get from people around the clock helps me create great scenarios and story telling perspective. Without that pain I get from stress or fowl edicate most of the story I write will be bland and plane. But that is not the only source of inspiration, as we know it comes in the form of smallest things.  I do not have to think of a demise or creation to get m blood flowing, listening to classical music or sound tracks of my favorite movies do the same, I guess the point of all of this is simple, I crawled out from the blackest parts of my history with scars to prove my bloody battle was not for vain, and the victims scrawled upon the walls of the damned led me to find no inner peace, in turn I can write better stories and really plug my mind into the characters and plot like non other I have written before. So I welcome you to the madness that will be the next year of my life, everyday I will post something new about the book and me, if you are lucky I will tell you a secret about me, and maybe, just maybe, we can get through this in one piece.    

Rapture!? Ok lets play Bioshock!!!!!

There is only one Rapture I would love to see, and that is in the xbox 360 game. Splicers and Big Daddies roaming the halls while trying to save the little ones sounds lot better then gong outside and seeing no one around, although that might be nice... But I digress, the world is always in peril and most people just sit by and watch. Almost none take the stand and do what is right, and if they do I never get to hear about it. That is whats wrong with todays media and govern hive mind of the American people. Even though we would love to put a cape on and fight injustice and bring the bad guy down we know we won't and continue to kick our own collective asses to survive in this world we call home. I have been on my own for sometime I do see the underside of what has become of my friends after all these years. Either they become the enemy they once sworn they would never become or they evolve into something I would never had guessed. The buddy who was always anti america became GI JOE, the criminal drug dealer became a cop and fight the same shit he use to peddle. The girl who hated the overtone threatened parental unit system she grew up with now having kids and using the same on them. Me? Well I could have strayed to the far left, but I didn't, there is a wonderful woman to thank for it but every time I think about what could have been I know for a fact it would have been bad. I never did the drugs everyone did but I was in with the wrong people for the wrong reasons. The thing is most of us gave up on the dream we had when we where kids. I always wanted to make movies but I found that writing a book gives me the same energy and drive I would have making a film and would love to keep going as long as I can. Never give up on what you want to do most, as long as it doesn't kill you, the future can still be in sight with one hand open and the other in your pocket, just in case.

Traveler without a destination

I have walked a fine line in life. Between the good and the evil both beckoned my call to do both. But with power comes great....well you get the rest. The past 10 years have brought me closer to understanding what my purpose is here on this blue dot in the galaxy. I have seen many change's to technology and personal gain as well as loss. My grandmother past away about a month ago. I will miss the lunches and dinners she made, the smell of the house and the taste of her home cooking. She was the one who had me thinking about life and what it meant. Without her in my life I would have never picked up a book and read. Her favorite is still mine, Steven King. Her favorite book is Rose Madder. I am about to read it myself. Most people are greedy and want money or something worth a dollar or two from a relative that has past. I wanted nothing more then the books she had. To my surprise in her will she left me the books, all of them. I knew since the last time I seen her this year was going to bring in some grey clouds, but when she went she still had her mind and I got to say goodbye. I'm tearing up a bit here but thats ok, where ever she resides now she is a much better place. Claire, my grandmother, was the nicest and most giving person I have and most likely ever meet. She was a painter all her life, the pictures came to life when she drew and pasted the pastels on the canvas. For my birthdays years ago I had her paint me the original Command and Conquer cover, the one with the soldier with goggles looking at a base being blown up. It still is the best gift I have even received. Two years ago she had me pick out any paintings of hers, when I picked them out she gave them to me, telling me she did not think she had long left on this earth and did not want them to go to anyone else that would either get rid of them or something the like. But before she went, I told her about the book, everything, how long I have been thinking about it and the ideas I had. I sat down and talked my head off for however long while she listened to me. That is why I am dedicating the book in her name, she was the greatest influence in my life and I miss her dearly. I even have the last stuffed pepper she made me in the freezer. I will never get rid of it, as my wife said I should keep it, hell maybe ill eat it someday. You see I thought I was prepared in a way on how to deal with her passing. I work at the hospital and deal with death every single day. I cried the hardest at a friends funeral a long time ago, but I know why I tried not to cry and why I only tear up, she would not want it that way, no one crying no one mourning, even though I had to go to church the following Sunday(Did it to appease my mother, she is the greatest) I know in my heart and mind she would rather have me read a good book in her honor. At least a Steven Kin or Koontz. Well Grandma I am going to finish the book and write a couple of more after. Where ever you are, I hope you can get a copy, it is gonna kick some ass.