Bill W

This place isn't the same without you, my irascible old friend. I hope your still able to ride your Harley.

I'm glad you enjoyed his chapter and they're all getting to spend some quality time with each other. It also gives Michael and Devin a chance to know Daniel better, and he appears to be a good fit.

Yes, Chris, those ziplines do sound like fun. I agree with you, Daniel does seem to be a good match for Clint, and he seems like a thoughtful young man.

I hope you have a safe and enjoyable time, if you decide to go ziplining!

"Plunging" a character—starting a story in the middle of things or throwing them into conflict later—is crucial for character development because it reveals their true nature, motivations, and coping mechanisms under pressure. Rather than slowly introducing a character, plunging forces them to react, showcasing their flaws, strengths, and fears in action, which is often more compelling to readers than mere description. Importance of Plunging for Character Development: Reveals True Character Under Pressure: The "plunge" forces characters to show their personality, rather than just talk about it, often highlighting their "lie" or limiting beliefs. Accelerates Reader Investment: By throwing a character into a difficult situation immediately (the "inciting incident"), the reader is compelled to connect emotionally and care about the outcome from the first few pages. Establishes High Stakes: A successful plunge ensures the audience sees what the character has to lose, which is crucial for character-driven stories. Forces Immediate Growth: Characters in these situations cannot stay stagnant; the intense circumstances, or "surgery without anesthesia," force them to learn, adapt, or fail. Eliminates Unnecessary Backstory: Instead of explaining a character’s background in a dump of information, the "plunge" shows their past in action, allowing the writer to unravel details like "peeling an onion". Key Considerations for a Successful Plunge: Establish a "Before" Baseline: Even while starting in media res, the writer should briefly establish the character's mundane life, known as their normal state, to make their upcoming challenges truly significant. Make it Personal: The conflict of the plunge should strike at the character's inner vulnerability or longing. Create Empathy: The character must possess some redeeming quality, even if they are heavily flawed, to make the reader want to accompany them on this difficult journey. Where to Start the Plunge: A character should be thrown into their "trouble" right away, ideally when their normal, yet flawed, existence is broken by the inciting incident. This action forces them out of their comfort zone and initiates the crucial transformation in their character arc.

"Plunge" originates from late 14th century Middle English plungen, derived from Old French [;pmgoer ("dive, since, immerse"). It stems from Vulgar Latin plumbicare "to heave the lead, from Latin plumbum "lead". This was referring to weighting a fishing net or sounding line, so the original sense related to sinking or throwing something into water. By the late 14th century, the verb plungen meant to thrust violently into or immerse, and was commonly used in literature for dramatic action, including descriptions of plunging into battles or water. By the late 14th century, it was used for casting into a state or condition (e.g., despair). It is related to "plumb" and "plumber" through its Latin roots. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the verb plunge was first used in English during the Middle English period (1150-1500), with the earliest known evidence dating to around 1380 in the text Sir Ferumbras. The noun plunge is recorded slightly later, with the earliest evidence in the OED dating to around 1450 in Wars of Alexander. The adjective plunged appears in the late 1500s (1581). The phrase "take the plunge" (to commit to a major decision) is recorded by 1823.

I know, but they may be in an upbeat mood since they know the wedding is only a couple of weeks away. And the vacation isn't over yet, so who knows what might happen?

You are correct, and they were being followed the last time they came to this park with Clint. They were being followed by Atsa, the evil skinwalker that wanted to be like them, but they never had to transition, and this time there is no threat. The time they had to transition was into a Bigfoot and fight off another evil skinwalker (name unknown) was when they went to Mesa Verdi and a few other places during another summer with Michael's parents.

Yes, they are, and even more fun when they're not part of a theme park.

Yes, Daniel seems slightly more mature than Clint and I think everyone is glad that he thanked Michael for getting them together. Two horny boys made an instant match.

Chapter 42 – Fun and Freedom We returned to the motel after having breakfast, I got out of the backseat of Lonny’s car he addressed me. “Please drive carefully,” he said as he handed me the key, “and I’m not worried about the vehicle, but you’re going to be carrying something very important to me. I don’t want anything to happen to any of you.” “Don’t worry. I’ll drive very carefully and we’ll see all of you at Yesterdays when we return.” As I was driving out of the parking

Thematic use of a vault drives tension by physically and symbolically embodying the story's core conflicts—secrets, greed, safety, or power. By acting as a "crucible", the vault forces characters to face high-stakes dilemmas, narrowing their choices and escalating emotional, psychological, or physical peril, ensuring the narrative remains focused and urgent. Importance of Thematic Vaults in Driving Tension: Symbolic Stakes: A vault is rarely just a box; it holds a "secret" or "object" central to the theme (e.g., forbidden knowledge or wealth), making its violation feel catastrophic. Creating "Crucible" Scenarios: It locks characters into high-pressure situations, creating a "time crunch" or physical confinement that heightens emotional stakes. Focusing Conflict: A vault forces characters to confront their fears and desires directly, transforming a physical obstacle into a thematic trial. Enhancing Suspense: The mystery of what is inside—or if it can be accessed—sustains curiosity, compelling the reader to keep turning pages. How to Use Thematic Vaults to Increase Tension: Use as a Plot Pivot: The need to break in or out acts as a "ticking bomb," increasing the story's overall pace. Withhold Information: Keep the contents of the vault hidden until the climax, using suspense to build anticipation. Make it Personal: Ensure the vault’s contents directly jeopardize the protagonist's emotional or moral growth, intensifying the stakes. Create Unsolvable Obstacles: Develop a locking mechanism or guarding system that directly challenges the protagonist’s specific weaknesses.

"Vault" (noun) originates from 14-century Middle English vaute or voute. derived from Old French volte ("arch". "arched roof"). It traces back to Vulgar Latin *volvita or *volta, a form of Latin volūta, the past participle of volvere ("to roll," "to turn"). The term originally described an arched ceiling (noun), later extending to secure rooms (16th century). The meaning shifted from an arched roof to a secure room, particularly a burial chamber (crypt) or a safe place for valuables, because they were often built with arched, vaulted ceilings. A separate, later origin (16th century) from Middle French volter ("to turn," "to leap"), ultimately from Italian voltare ("to turn" or "wheel") gave us the verb vault. The term "Vault of Heaven" is a figurative use derived from the arching appearance of the sky. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the earliest known use of the noun vault (meaning an arched roof, ceiling, or underground chamber) in English is from before 1387. The OED cites this earliest evidence in a translation by John Trevisa, placing its origin in the Middle English period (1150—1500). The noun (Arched structure/chamber) is also from before 1387(as voute or similar, later spelled with 'l'). The verb vault (to jump) earliest evidence from 1538.

In storytelling, surge (often referred to as urgency, pacing, or momentum) is the force that propels a narrative forward, driving reader engagement by creating a sense that events are critical, immediate, and must be followed to their resolution. It is the difference between a "good" story—with interesting characters—and a "great" story that keeps readers at the edge of their seats. The importance of surge in writing stories based on the provided search results: Drives Reader Engagement (The Page-Turner Effect): Urgency: A sense of urgency makes the reader feel that the characters' goals are crucial, urging them to find out what happens next. Suspense and Curiosity: Surge is fueled by raising questions (e.g., "Will the protagonist succeed?") and delaying answers, which keeps readers hooked. Emotional Connection: High-stakes surges make readers care more deeply about the characters and their struggles. Create Narrative Momentum (Pacing): Speeding up the Action: Surge often manifests in fast-paced scenes with sharp, punchy dialogue, limited descriptions, and high conflict. Controlling the Flow: Effective writers manage this surge by alternating between fast-paced action (high surge) and slower-paced, emotional scenes (low surge), allowing readers to catch their breath without losing interest. Avoiding Flatness: Without a sense of surge, stories can become mundane, predictable, or "lifeless". Escalates Stakes and Conflict: The "Claw Their Way Out" Factor: Surge involves putting characters into the deepest, most complex holes possible and forcing them to navigate their way out. "Sticky" Situations: Writers can use surge to maximize tension by choosing the most difficult or "sticky" path for their characters rather than the easy way out. The Ticking Clock: One of the most effective ways to generate surge is by introducing a time limit, which immediately increases the pressure on the protagonist. Enhances Reversals and Surprises: Complexity: The more reversals (surprises that change the direction of the plot) a story has, the more complex and exciting it becomes. Turning Points: These surprises, or "surges in action," pivot the character's fortune from good to bad or vice versa, forcing them to take action and changing the plot's direction. Practical Techniques to Create Surge: Raise the Stakes: Make the outcome of the conflict matter profoundly to the protagonist and the reader. Use Red Herrings: Use misdirection to keep the reader (and characters) focused on the wrong threat, allowing the true danger to build up unexpectedly. Utilize Character Archetypes: Use heralds to signal that a problem is coming, and shadows (minor antagonists) to act as a distraction from the main threat. Cause and Effect: Every scene must be the result of a previous cause and a trigger for a future effect, ensuring a continuous, flowing momentum. The importance of surge lies in turning a sequence of events into an unputdownable, high-stakes experience that feels urgent and necessary to the reader.

The word surge originates from the early 16th century, derived from the Latin surgere ("to rise, arise, or mount up"), which is a contraction of surrigere (sub- "from below" + regere "to keep straight, guide"), via Old Middle French Sourgir, surgir ("to rise, land, or anchor") and sourgeon ("fountain, stream"). It entered English via Middle French sourgir or sourge- ("to rise, swell") and refers to a sudden rise or powerful wave. It is related to Surgent (rising) and resurge, which share the same Latin root. It is distinct from surgery, which comes from a different Greek root meaning "hand-work". According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the earliest known use of surge in English is from the late 15th century, specifically recorded as a noun around 1490, with the earliest evidence found in a translation by William Caxton. The earliest evidence for the verb is slightly later, dated to 1511, in Pylgrymage of Richarde Guylforde.

The traversal of characters—their movement through physical space, social landscapes, and emotional landscapes—is fundamental to storytelling because it drives the story's transformation, builds relationships, and tests a character's resolve. It is important to distinguish between the outer journey (the physical plot/traverse) and the inner journey (internal change), as the most effective narratives interlace both, allowing the physical trip to challenge the character's internal beliefs. Key Reasons for Including Character Traversal: Driving Character Development: A character must change and grow from the beginning to the end, or the story feels stagnant. The physical journey provides the necessary obstacles to force this evolution. Building Tension and Conflict: The "essence of drama is conflict," and travel exposes characters to adversity, unexpected dangers, and testing situations. It forces characters to choose between personal desires and team success. Facilitating Self-Discovery: Characters often learn about their true selves, their strengths, and their failings through the struggles they face during their travels. Understanding Others: Moving through new environments allows characters to interact with others, revealing hidden truths about friends, enemies, and family, which is part of becoming a fully realized person. Pacing Tool: Travel sequences can be used to control the speed of the narrative, providing moments for quiet reflection or building up to a new location's action. Elements of Effective Traversal: Interlacing Inner and Outer Journeys: The plot points (outer, physical movement) should directly contribute to the character's emotional or psychological development (inner). Active Choices: Characters should not just "be" on a trip; they must be actively involved in decision-making and facing the consequences of their actions along the way. Overcoming Obstacles: The journey should be difficult, forcing characters out of their comfort zones. Building Relationships: The interactions and conversations between characters during travel can deepen their bonds or create necessary friction, adding to the plot's complexity.

The word traverse originated in the early 14th century, meaning to pass across, over, or through. It derives from the Old French traverser (verb) and traverse (noun), as well as Vulgar Latin traversare, stemming from the Latin transversus ("turned across"), which is a combination of trans_ ("across") + versus. the participle of vertere ("to turn). Traverse has historically signified crossing, blocking (military, 16c.), and in legal contexts, denying a formal allegation. Traverse is related to "transverse" and focuses on movement that is crosswise or athwart. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), traverse was first used in English during the Middle English period (1150-1500). The earliest recorded use as a verb (meaning "to pass across, over, or through") is from before 1325, appearing in the Statutes of the Realm. The earliest evidence for the noun form is from before 1393, in the writing of poet John Gower. As an Adverb/Preposition: The earliest evidence of its use as an adverb/preposition was recorded around 1425, in the writing of John Lydgate.

I bet a can of bean would give you gas. It doesn't care what ails ya.

Character security—referring to a character's emotional, psychological, or physical "shielding" (such as secrets, fears, or defense mechanisms)—is crucial for creating engaging, relatable, and believable stories. It acts as the foundation for a character’s motivations and reactions, driving the narrative forward through internal and external conflict. Creating Relatable and Human Characters: Defense Mechanisms: Just like real people, characters adopt "emotional shielding" (new traits, behaviors, or false beliefs) to protect themselves from past wounds or fear. Imperfection: Characters without flaws are boring and unbelievable. Flaws rooted in a need for security, such as a fear of vulnerability or mistrust, make characters relatable and interesting. Depth: Understanding a character's "wound" (a traumatic past event) allows you to write them with consistency and psychological realism. Driving the Plot and Conflict: Motivation: A character’s desire to feel secure (or their fear of losing it) drives their goals and actions. Internal vs. External Conflict: The efforts a character makes to stay safe (internal) often create conflict with their environment or other characters (external). Stakes: Character flaws, which are often defensive, increase the stakes because they make the character ill-equipped to handle the plot, forcing them to grow and overcome their limitations. Building Emotional Connection with Readers: Empathy: When readers understand a character’s inner vulnerabilities, they empathize and root for them, even if the character is not strictly "likable". Authentic Responses: Characters who react in ways consistent with their established, albeit "unsafe," inner world make the story feel authentic, keeping readers engaged. Character Arc: The journey from emotional insecurity to growth (or tragic downfall) is what makes stories memorable, allowing readers to walk in the character's shoes. Making the Writing Process Easier: Authenticity: When you know a character's background, fears, and defenses, their actions and dialogue feel more organic and less forced. Guidance: A solid understanding of a character's psyche helps the writer make decisions during "stuck" points in the plot. Character security is the "why" behind a character’s actions, making them feel real and ensuring the story has the necessary tension to keep readers invested.

"Security" originates from the Latin securus, meaning freedom from anxiety ( se ("without" or "free from") + cura ("care", "worry", or "anxiety"). Emerging in English during the early 15th century. Originally, it implied being "free from care" or "unconcerned," which often meant being "over-confident" or careless, rather than just physical safety. Over time the meaning evolved as follows: 15th century: Referred to a state of being safe or free from anxiety. 16th/17th Century: Used as "surety" or "guarantee" of a promise. Modern Usage: Shifted towards physical protection, defense, and financial instruments. The concept of security was originally a mental state—a feeling of being untroubled—before it became a term describing physical protection or financial stability. "Surety" and "Secure" are closely related, sharing the same Latin origin through different paths. According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the earliest known use of the noun security is in the Middle English period (1150-1500), with the earliest evidence dating from before 1425. The word appears in Dialogue Reason & Adversity. The related term "non-security" also dates from the Middle English period, specifically before 1420. "Security" vs "Safety": While security appeared in the early 15th century, the noun safety also stems from the Middle English period, with evidence for it found around 1380. Secure was first used in English as an adjective in the mid-1500s (1545), appearing in the writings of evangelical author George Joye. It was later used as a verb in the late 1500s (1587), recorded in the work of lawyer and playwright Thomas Hughes.

Georgia state average for gasoline is $3.70.

I was just out two days ago and noticed that most places were between $3.57-3.64 per gallon (US). Since I usually only go out every 10-14 days to do my grocery shopping, unless I have a doctor's appointment, I don't use a lot of gasoline. It's a good thing too, or else I'd be forced to eat less and only go out shopping every 20-28 days. I hope that's what you were looking for, Mr. Lemon Squeezy!

And now we'll get (possibly) the next word in just a few hours!

Centering characters in a story—often referred to as character-driven storytelling—is essential because characters are the primary vehicle for reader engagement, emotional connection, and thematic resonance. While plot dictates what happens, character-centered narratives focus on why events matter, forcing the character to grow, make active choices, and take a journey that readers care about. Importance of Character-Centered Writing: Creates Emotional Connection: Readers connect with people, not just events. A character-driven approach allows for the development of relatability and empathy, as the story revolves around their internal struggles, motivations, and growth. Establishes Active Agency: Centering the character ensures they are driving the plot through their decisions, rather than simply reacting to events, which keeps them from becoming uninspiring or passive "marionettes". Provides Meaningful Stakes: Even a thrilling plot needs a personal component to make it compelling. A character's desire or flaw (internal conflict) makes the audience care about the outcome, creating genuine suspense. Strengthens the Theme: The theme—the hidden, deeper message—is best delivered through the character's journey and transformation, making the story's "ugly truth" or lesson more impactful. Reveals Strengths and Weaknesses: A focus on the character allows them to make mistakes, fail, and "fail better," which humanizes them and makes for a more profound and memorable story arc. A character-driven approach ensures that the narrative is not just a sequence of random events but a meaningful, unforgettable experience. Common Pitfalls and Techniques: Avoid the "Mushy Middle": When the plot meanders, focusing on the character's internal journey—their desires, frustrations, and evolving emotions—can re-engage the reader. Prevent Overly "Nice" Characters: Characters do not have to be likeable, but they must be compelling. Even a goody-two-shoes protagonist can be made interesting by taking them out of their comfort zone and into a "discomfort zone". Show Reactions, Don't Assume: Early in a story, it is crucial to show how a character feels about events, rather than assuming the reader knows, to build a strong connection to their inner life.

"Centered" derives from the noun center (14th century) and the suggix -ed, referring to being placed at the middle point. The noun originates from Old French centre, Latin centrum ("center of a circle"), and Greek kentron ("sharp point/sting"), rooted in Proto-Indo-Euripean *kent- ("to prick"). It developed to mean focused or balanced. The verb center appeared in the 1590s to mean "to concentrate at a center". "Centered" (1580s–1590s) functions as the past participle of the verb and later as an adjective meaning balanced or situated in the middle. Centered is related to "centric" and "centrism", both related to have a center. The suffix -centric, means "having a center" or "focused on" (e.g., egocentric). According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the earliest known use of the adjective centred (or centered) is in the late 1500s, with the earliest evidence dating to 1591 in the writings of Edmund Spenser. The noun "centering" (or centring) has earlier evidence, appearing in the Middle English period (1150–1500), specifically around 1484–5. The verb "center" (or centre), as in to place in the center, earliest evidence is in a 1551 citation for Recorde, Pathway to Knowledg notes the concept of a "pricke" (point) in the "middell".