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CarlHoliday

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Blog Entries posted by CarlHoliday

  2. CarlHoliday
    That's the problem with new toys, you're never certain how they work until you push one of the buttons.
     
    I intended to have this entry as my first, but I pushed the silly button and "Forlorn" jumped out of the gate and was halfway down the track before I noticed my mistake.
     
    This is my fourth attempt at establishing a literary blog. Previous attempts were on blogspot and my original blog that still resides on LiveJournal. If you're interested in a more personal view of my life check out v. 1.1 (go to http://larsneuffeldt.livejournal.com/). Don't go there unless you're very bored and don't mind getting even more bored. I'm pathetic to the core.
     
    Other writings can be found by visiting my pathetic excuse for a web site (http://www.larsneuffeldt.com/). There are a number of stories some might find interesting, plus quite a few very strange pieces that I'm still trying to get a handle on, including "Excerpts from History of the Argottean Federation" which is a bit of silliness I visit every now and then when I'm very, very bored.
     
    If you're really bored, no, really, really bored, as in it's either clean out the closet or do something really boring, wander over to The Cove and read my current project, "The Pastel Cowboy." Zach Alexander is sixteen when he is outed by supposed friends and then ostrasized by family and community. He seeks his freedom in a new city and in the course of a year learns a lot about himself.
     
    Okay, enough of the plugs.
     
    Who am I?
     
    I'm a 57 year old married gay man who existed in a very dark closet for too long. A year after coming out of said closet I went a little loopy (no, it was a lot) and took an early retirement from a very good job. I had a plan, it didn't work out because a crazy person thought it up, and now I'm a truck driver. Truck driving is one of the few jobs today where no experience is necessary and you can make gobs of money basically sitting on your butt all day long.
     
    How long have I been writing?
     
    In 1986, I took English Comp at the University of Puget Sound where I was employed as a typesetter (pre-desktop publishing) and the professor said not only did I have a talent for writing, but I was probably cursed, too. (You know you're cursed when you wake up in the middle of the night and have to write.) She gave me a long list of authors to read; as in read all of their works before ever contemplating writing anything of substance. It took me nearly four years to get through the list because I wasn't reading for pleasure, I was paying attention to how the stories were constructed. Even today, I read most stories looking at how the writer does the magic. If you haven't noticed, there are some very magical writers right here at gayauthors.org.
     
    What's next?
     
    My current plan is to alternate blog entries between v. 1.1 and v. 2.0, but sometimes that might not be a strict plan, like today.
     
    I'm currently working on a short story about a thirty-something professor at the University of Wyoming who decides to take his Land Rover and go exploring in the wilds of Wyoming. He gets lost. Then he comes to a house and . . . .
     
    I'm currently working on the ninth chapter of The Pastel Cowboy. It's not going well. The lead, Zach Alexander, is going to get bashed at the end of the chapter. Like I said, it's not going well. In fact, doing this entry proves it's not going well. I even posted a short story on eFiction instead of working on Zach's story. I can get maybe a paragraph before all thought processes shut down. I can do other stuff, just not that.
     
    My next big project is a story about a boy who was a secondary character in my second novel. He figures out he's gay when he's twelve, has his first sexual experience at fifteen, nearly commits suicide at nineteen when his father seemingly rejects his homosexuality, and then things really go downhill. The nice thing about this story is that there won't be any violence. It's going to be bunnies and ducklings playing in a meadow full of sweet smelling flowers on a warm spring afternoon. I have a problem doing bunnies. My bunnies tend to be maneaters a la Monty Python.
     
    Well, they're you go. That's me in a nutshell. The good thing about doing this blog is that I can leave all the really horrible, boring stuff about my struggles with depression on my other blog and concentrate on creativity here.
  3. CarlHoliday
    I haven’t been working on the next chapter for 319 because I have been working on a possible short story for another site during the past week. I know I should be working on 319, but I’m focused on this other story. It involves a young teen who decides to run away from home, hoping to connect with his uncle in Fresno, California. The only problem is that he hasn’t quite figured out how he is going to get in contact with his uncle.
     
    And, then a favorite song comes up:
     

     
    That’s the problem with being a Type 1 Bipolar. You just never known when something will come up that does or doesn’t have anything to do with your narrative (or train of thought). As I think I said in an entry before this, I read a collection of John O’Hara’s New York stories. It was interesting because he doesn’t give character movements in his dialogues. In other words, it’s just straight dialogue that you might encounter in a play or movie script. In other words, you set the scene, add the characters, and go with the script (or dialogue). For many writers, they want to provide movement for the speakers, but in traditional fiction writers (as in literature) there is not movement added. You leave it up to the reader to imagine how the speakers are moving within the scene.
     

     
    Oh, yeah, I forgot, sometimes life goes awry and you never quite know where you're going to turn up:
     

     
    You see, I'm in a melancholy mood and I don't know where I'm going from here.
     

    Anyway, I’m almost finished with this other story, which may be published on this other site, or if there are problems, I’ll just throw it up on GA and got with what may come. You see, I’m at an age where new stories are few and far between. I have to admit that the creative juices are running low and soon there will become a time when I will no longer be able to come up with anything original. Sorry, with my age and mental illness, there isn’t much more than I can do.
     
    My son just served me two “special” brownies.
     

     
    And, so, I sit here with two fourteen-year-old gay boys who don’t quite know where to go when they’re alone for some close interpersonal time.
     

     
    So, I go forward and take two fourteen-year-old boys to the point where love blossoms.
     

     
    As you can see life in mental illness is sometimes not quite want you want.
  4. CarlHoliday
    As far as I am concerned the only sure therapy to a psychologically troubled mind is to have a productive hobby and to practice it on a regular basis. Medicinally, I am stable with an effective mood stabilizer and an anti-depressant specifically developed to treat depression associated with bipolar disorder.
     
    That leaves my hobby which is writing. I’ve tried to learn how to play the guitar, even to the point of buying one for $800 (actually getting it on sale for $400), but that’s basically a non-starter. At this point in time I have a series (William Walter Williams) that has begun to be published. Another series (319 Winesap Lane) is written up to Chapter 6 and will start to be published soon as I get through Chapter 6 and into Chapter 7.
     
    A new story came to me over the weekend. It is a sci-fi story that takes place in the future on a distant planet. The leading character, John Quincy Allerman, colloquially known as Allerman, awakes in a forest totally unaware as to who, what, or where he is. He follows a path that leads him to a community of fellow humans who immediately identify him as “The Faggot”, which in this society is not a derogatory phrase. In fact, he will serve the community in much the same way the “The Harlot” does her duty, only he will service men who desire the company of a man in the way only a faggot can. There are so many places this story can go that I’m sure it will keep me preoccupied for many months. I’ve finished Chapter 1 and am working Chapter 2.
  5. CarlHoliday
    I’ve been working on this blog entry for a couple weeks now, but every time I think it has developed into something to publish, I don’t. Mostly, it’s all because of my new mental state which is now controlled by the ingestion of 2,000 mg of valproate sodium (Depakote) to stabilize my moods. Mania is mostly held at bay and never lasts more than a week; depression lasts barely more than a day or two. Mostly, I exist in a nothing state. I write stories, though it takes time to formulate and express thoughts in coherent phrases. I take a nap during the day and sleep fitfully at night. Dreams are not enjoyable.
     
    To help I went to the small expense of buying a book. Until now I’ve relied on what psychiatrists told me and what I’ve read on the internet, which has been okay, I guess. But, I wanted to have a compilation of the latest knowledge on Type 1 Bipolar Disorder. What have I learned? Well, yes, I am Type 1 BPD. It’s a recognized illness and therefore requires medicinal intervention to ameliorate the symptoms and often more than one medicine is needed. I use two, a mood stabilizer and an anti-psychotic to alleviate the voices, hallucinations, and help with the depression. Suicide is always a risk, though I no longer fear it as I once did. Maybe I’ve crossed into that land where Virginia Woolf lived before she decided to fill her overcoat pockets with stones and walk into the River Ouse. Thankfully, the medication I’m taking seems to be keeping me from that watery end.
     
    Where do I go from here? Unfortunately, as far as medical science has studied there is no cure for Type 1 Bipolar Disorder. Each manic or depressive episode does a tiny amount of damage to the brain, so if you have a number of them, the cumulative effect can be horrendous until intervention is attempted. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until I was 58 when I was diagnosed and started on valproic acid (two tablets twice a day exactly 12 hours apart) and then a few years later to a generic extended release version of Depakote. Looking back on my life I know I was mentally ill as a teenager, but that was the Sixties and you had to be fairly bad off to get noticed. I kept under the radar as much as possible, I think mostly to fend of accusations that I was gay.
     
    Two weeks until week pick up the new puppy!
  6. CarlHoliday
    When I think of Mississippi these things come to mind: William Faulkner (my favorite author); the Brookhaven distribution centers for McLane (the best in the company) and Walmart; the small, independent truck stop in Bogue Chitto (with a name like that what's not to remember); the Petro truck stop in Jackson (where the lot lizard exposed her (his?) miniscule breasts to prove she was a woman); the fish processing plant outside Indianola where I had to wait ten hours (federal rest time) for my load of Atlantic salmon from Chile and tilapia from Honduras to get gutted, filleted, and packaged for delivery to Walmart distribution centers in Arkansas (1) and Oklahoma (2); the strange stretch of future interstate between Birmingham and Memphis; and the imitation stern-wheeler visitor information center in Greenville (Is it still there? Why is their website worthless?).
     
    And, now, there is something more to remember Mississippi by. There is an evil company in Madison, Mississippi, by the name of DeBeukelaer Corp. that produces an insidious cookie by the name of Crème de Pirouline. These chocolate filled rolled wafers are a temptation this chocoholic finds extremely difficult to put down. Just to get through a week I have to buy two 14 oz. cans. Luckily, our local grocery store only stocks the chocolate hazelnut variety. I don’t know what I’d do if they stocked the dark chocolate, too. Ooh, dark chocolate! Milky Way Midnight Dark chocolate bars, just the thought makes me almost want to drive down to the grocery store for one.
     
    So much for the good news. Last month when I went bonkers in a manic episode I went up 500 mg on Depakote for 10 days, which dropped me back to something close to normalcy. (What is normalcy for someone with bipolar?) Once again, I’m bouncing off the walls, driving my son crazy with my constant chattering, and generally doing things that I normally don’t do. My current project seems to be adding friends to my presence on Facebook. I’ve gone from 8 (acquired over a period of 7 years) to 22 in the past week. I know, that certainly isn’t much of anything, but I’m basically an introvert and don’t do well on social media. I haven’t even gone the Twitter route, which in a way is good since it seems to be going the way of the electric typewriter if they keep losing top management.
     
    The solution? Yep, back on the extra dose of Depakote. Maybe, I just need to stay on that and see how it affects me generally speaking. I’ll be finishing chapter 5 of 319 tonight and have chapters 6, 7, 8, and probably 9 all mapped out. I just need to slow down my life a bit. That’s the problem with being bipolar, always running the risk of falling into an unbelievably deep gloom or bouncing of the ceiling as you try to fly like a nervous sparrow.
  7. CarlHoliday
    Right now the neighbors have gone and left their GSD out on their back deck (enclosed). It is crying and howling because of their absence. Although Rambo nipped me this morning because I touched his food bag, I still love him and I suppose that’s the difference between them and us. Rambo’s crate is right here in the house and he can get to it whenever he needs to go to his “place”, while the neighbor’s GSD has its crate on the back deck, so its “place” is on the other side of a normally close door and isn’t actually in a dog’s eye a place of comfort. There are two kinds of pet owners, those who love and those who neglect. I’m proud to say we love Rambo even though my flannel has holes in it from the numerous times he’s decided I’m encroaching on his territory. He gets the rebuke he deserves and is sent to his “place” for a little timeout. That works for us and I wish the neighbors could be the kind of dog owners who appreciate what they have in that sad, lonely dog.
     
    Over last Saturday night and Sunday morning, Chakira von Dacon, IPO (Schutzhund) 1, KKL1a, gave birth to seven GSD puppies, six males and one female. We’re, or rather I’m getting the female. I don’t know what name the breeder will demand for the registered name (All of their litters are designated by letters of the alphabet, in Rambo’s case he was in an “L” litter and his registered name would have been Lorenz von Waldberg if we had submitted the $35 and paperwork to the AKC.), but I’m naming her Nana, after Rambo’s mother. It was a never-ending struggle to come up with a name that interested me, but all I could come up with were cutesy names that don’t fit my personality and probably wouldn’t have fit the dog. GSD’s are a regal breed and deserve to be called something other than Sissy, Missy, Bouncy, Cuddles, or Miss Fuzzy.
     
    I’ve been working on “319” a little every day. I’ve changed the time period for the story, bumping it forward thirty years to today to change the sexual dynamic from outright lust to more of a reminiscence of times past, of all the boyfriends, acquaintances, and deaths. Uncommon to the way I usually write a story, each chapter will be from the POV of a different character.
     
    The main characters will be those living in the house. At the present time they include: Geoff, a man in his mid-sixties at the end of a long career of teaching at a fictional four-year college in Upstate New York; Jer, an eighteen-year-old entering the house as a first-year student at Warnton College and living there as the houseboy; and, just appearing this week, Erik, a fourteen-year-old who was abandoned outside the Mickey D’s in Lyons, NY, and will be Geoff’s foster child and ultimately adopted son.
     
    Secondary characters now introduced are: Dave, an eighteen-year-old first-year student at Warnton College who makes a mean kosher Reuben and is Jer’s main love interest; Gerry, a Warnton local and senior at Warnton Middle/Senior High School and probable friend to Jer or something more; and, creepy Mr. Alexander, the band teacher at the Middle/Senior High School who has the wandering eye for teenage boys and who will meet his doom somewhere in the story.
     
    Erik for his part plays the clarinet, but will refuse to play in band, so I’ll have to come up with a victim for Mr. Alexander. Of course, it will have to be handled delicately. I’m thinking the victim could be a possibly boyfriend of Erik, whether the abuse occurs before, during, or after the relationship will have to be determined.
     
    I thought by adding Erik and Gerry to the story would give it a more depth and help (or hinder) Geoff in his early years of retirement by having a never-ending array of cute young and older teen and young adult males in his home. He’s had a horrible life of having steady relationships always ending in untimely separation or death. He’s never had a chance to find that one special person to be with him to the very end and now he finds himself surrounded by untouchable youth, who in some cases seem more than willing to be closer than is proper. Will Geoff find Mr. Right or will he have to accept looking forward to a lonely end in the big Queen Anne style house at 319 Winesap Lane.
     
    In any case, 319 Winesap Lane is a developing story that is starting out with a bang and all I have to do is keep the banging in tune. As with any story involving Geoff there is the very real possibility of characters coming on stage, singing their aria, and dying a horrible death, much to the horror of Geoff and the other characters.
  8. CarlHoliday

    Redirection

    By CarlHoliday,

    I was starting to read a Sanitaria Springs story by dabeagle when "I Can Hear Music" by The Beach Boys came on and I got to thinking about what happened today. Other than Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue," especially with its opening clarinet glissando, the beautiful tenor of Carl Wilson has to make "I Can Hear Music" my number one favorite oldies song and I have a lot of favorite oldies songs.
     
    I completely revised Chapter 1 of 319 Winesap Lane removing all the sex between Geoff and Jerry. I also added a reason for Geoff to stay away from Jerry in a sexual way. This leaves whatever sex occurs in the story to lie within Jerry's realm. His initial infatuation will be with the boy he meets in Chapter 2.
     
    The VA finally got back to me about a dermatology referral my PC sent in in December. I'll be able to see some one in Monroe, so maybe I won't have to get up so early in the morning.
     
    Since I'm still bouncing off the walls, I called the shrink and she told me to add another 500 mg of Depakote to my medicinal mix. Of course, this raises red-flags of dulling of my creative processes. I suppose using all that extra energy on Sunday to get all the final chapters of The G.M.Os. ready to go to editing was good because any other work on that might suffer. The story still ends rather abruptly with Chapter 31, but there's nothing I can do about that right now. I have no idea what will happen to 319, but I can hope for the best that I will be able to adapt. Have to remember, happy thoughts keep the gloomies away.
  9. CarlHoliday
    I had a question about 319 yesterday so I sent dabeagle an email and asked his professional opinion about the kind and amount of sex I was anticipating in the story. I think he gave me an honest and truthful assessment of where I was heading and needless to say I am no longer going to write the story in that direction. If anything, the story was being written in a way that could only be something that would be appropriate on Nifty, which is something I no longer intend to do. So thank you very much dabeagle for your assistance in this matter.
     
    Today, we went down to Monroe to get some dog food for Rambo and a new football for him. I was looking at the puppy chew toys and got excited about the prospect that Nana would soon be born (only 7 more days), if this litter has females and we’re high enough on the list to get one. I hope so. I don’t know what I would do if we have to wait for another litter. When Rambo was born all four pups were males, so there’s always that chance. I so much look forward to having Nana cuddled on my lap whiIe go into a vegetative TV state of mind until she’s old enough to be too big to be on my lap. All this time wanting a lap dog and now settling for a GSD does little to dampen my spirits knowing I get a choice in the kind of dog I'm getting for my very own. Just knowing she’ll be my dog goes a long way to looking forward to a stable mental state mollified by two GSDs. Nana and Rambo resting at my feet while I think about all the stories I could be writing if I wasn’t too busy just being with the dogs.
     
    An interesting thing happened on our way into and back from Monroe. I realized I have been in a hyperactive mental state. The new dosage that is supposed to keep me stabilized, isn’t. I talked nearly all the way down and all the way back. And, it wasn’t intelligible shit either. Just drivel, nothing of importance, but definitely evident of someone in a manic state of mind. If this continues into tomorrow and Monday, I’m going to have to call the shrink and let her know. I don’t know if I can add another 500 mg of Depakote or if she’ll give me a supplemental medication. The VA seems to be very up on Abilify, but I’m scared of any drug that has a side effect of sudden, unexpected death.
     
    So, it’s back to 319 and a change in direction. I’ll be keeping the characters; I definitely can’t do away with Geoff and I’ll keep his insatiable sexual desire. Jerry will be there, just as cute as always, but now Geoff won’t be able to touch him. And, Jerry is going to try to get into Geoff’s pants if only to satisfy his own sexual desire. There’s a new sex interest for Jerry, a boy of the same age from Woodstock, New York, named Dave. The main sexual activity in the story will be between Jerry and Dave. But, that leaves Geoff with his inability to get close to Jerry, no matter how much either wishes things to be different. And, to top things off, there will be more boys coming to 319 Winesap Lane, all of them unavailable to Geoff due to their age and status at the college.
  10. CarlHoliday

    319 Winesap Lane

    By CarlHoliday,

    My writing therapy program has come to fruition. I finished chapter 1 of 319 Winesap Lane and it came in at over 5,600 words. I suspected all I needed to do was get a good storyline and a couple characters to get this thing going, but it’s been much easier than I thought. Though I have to admit the it didn’t go without a few hesitations. It definitely didn’t help I was trying to get caught up with 18 Weeks of Twoey by skinnydragon. It’s an interesting story and I recommend it to anyone who is interested in young gay love and angst. It does have quite a bit of sex in it, but they’re all teenagers so it shouldn’t be a problem to anyone. Unless, of course, you're one of those people who thinks children (for some adults that includes anyone under the age of 25) shouldn't have sexual contact of any kind.
     
    There was an article on newyorker.com about juveniles on sex-registries that can last far into adulthood. The author was of the opinion that any sex play among children is detrimental to their mental health and can have lasting effects including depression, suicide, and PTSD. When I grew up Dr. Spock was the rule of the land and playing doctor was a given and adults shouldn't get overly upset little Johnny showed little Sally his little willy. I certainly didn't have any problem seeing little Johnny's little willy other than his little willy was heck of a lot longer the my little willy and he could get a stiffy, too. Damned little bugger.
     
    I’m going to handle 319 like I did The G.M.Os. and write nearly all of it before starting to publish just so I don’t get hung up somewhere in the middle with a real block and can’t write for months. I don’t think I’ll have a problem because I’ll be looking at a four-year time period for the story. In theory that could take up to 48 or more chapters at a minimum. This thing could go on forever. With Sharon’s new job and longer commute, it now takes longer for my edited stuff to get back so that just might help, too. I could write 10 or so chapters to see how it’s going and if it’s a viable project and then start publishing while I write ahead. The only danger to that is running into a wall and ending up having to force myself to write, which definitely does not work anymore. That’s the one thing I’ve learned about this new mental state. I can’t force myself to write, I have to be content to write when the muse taps me on the shoulder and tells me it’s time to sit down and write for a spell. Like I’m doing today, 2,500 words on the story and, now, a blog entry.
     
    I posted Chapter 1 of 319 on Sneak Peeks, so if you want to read it, it’s there. I hope you like it.
     
    Now, do I turn on the TV or try to start the next chapter? I could go try to find a story to read since the new anthology is out. No, I think I’ll try to work further on 319. I’ve got the music going and that’s kind of soothing, too, though I do catch myself sometimes listening a little carefully when a particular song comes up. Today, one such song was Dave Edmund’s “Born to be With You.” I think for the first time ever I really listened to his voice. The recording is one of his early ones when he was using the Phil Specter echo chamber and Dave’s tenor comes across almost angelic.
  11. CarlHoliday

    Sine Cosine Tangent

    By CarlHoliday,

    This morning I read Don DeLillo's short story, "Sine Cosine Tangent", in newyorker.com. As surprising as it may be, I have never read any of DeLillo’s fiction, but this story intrigued me as it is about a teenager coming to grips with his parents' divorce.
     
    The story takes place in New York City and covers the boy from age thirteen, when his parents divorced—in a very telling scene as he is doing his math homework, his father informs him of the fact—until the boy grows into adulthood. Therefore, most of the story covers the time the boy lived with just his mother in an apartment in Queens. His father, obviously rather wealthy, is involved in global finance, while his mother works full-time for a lawyer who deals with real estate transactions. His life with his mother is full of the angst of a teen boy coming to terms with his social environment and dealing with the break-up of the family unit.
     
    So, do I read more of DeLillo? Probably not, though I may buy his collection of stories, The Angel Esmeralda: nine stories.
     
    On the home front, I’ve been suffering through excruciating muscle spasms on the right side of my back since Saturday afternoon. It makes working at the computer next too impossible, but I am still able to read stories, so it can’t be too serious.
     
    I went to Guitar Center on Saturday (maybe it was the long drive in my son’s Expedition that sprung the back) and got the deal of the day. They were having their President’s Day sale and had an Epiphone Les Paul Limited Edition Traditional PRO electric guitar for $399.00. It had been marked down from a sale price that had expired on 2/3, but as it was still advertised at $399, I got it for that price. My other Epiphone turned out to be a piece of cheap shit so I upgraded and can now get back to learning how to play the guitar, for no other reason than to give myself something to do.
     
    Tomorrow morning we’re taking Rambo into the vet for a testosterone reduction operation that is long overdue. Hopefully, he won’t be too cranky over the weekend.
     
    Sometime between now and whenever, but definitely this year, we’ll be getting a new puppy for the house. I’ve been saying we should get a Chihuahua because, well, I think they’re cute, but my son says that is a definite NO. He wanted to get a Pit Bull, either a Staffie or an Amstaff, but I’m not in favor of either of those mostly because I have to take the dogs out during the day and don’t want to have to watch out for some stupid dog jumping over the fence to get at the neighbor’s cats. Luckily, Rambo hasn’t learned that the fence is only 4 feet high and he could quite easily jump over the silly thing.
     
    So, we’re going for intelligence. I wanted a Miniature Poodle, but my so is definitely against that. “NO SMALL DOGS!” So, that leaves a Border Collie, smartest of all. German Shepherds are supposed to be the third smartest dog, but sometimes Rambo impresses me as being only slightly more intelligent than a Chihuahua (No. 67).
     
    With two local Border Collie breeders, we should have a fairly good chance of getting a puppy this year. We’re going for a female and would like a traditional black/white one. We’ll have to see what we get. In the meantime, we have my son’s ’72 Cadillac to get running, the cherry tree to be trimmed, and the back porch to be redone. (My son insists that since I’m “old” it’s time we put in a ramp so I don’t trip on the steps, again!) Only after those three things are accomplished can we even think about getting a new dog.
  12. CarlHoliday

    Depakote Blues

    By CarlHoliday,

    It's only been just over a week on 1500 mg of Depakote and that old, familiar feeling has come back. You could say I feel like I was taking 2 mg of Risperidone and 1000 mg of Depakote, but it's different than that. There's no energy, zero, zilch. There's nothing there. It's like being in a warm pool of salt water. You just float there without a current to move you along. You're going nowhere and there's nothing to stop you from getting there.
     
    Yesterday I wrote 3,000 words, but it was mostly therapeutic. Dialog mostly, very little narrative, but the dialog wasn't close to playwriting, which I enjoy, but haven't done in years, decades. It was Chapter 3 of Children of Eden. In Chapter 2 there were a lot of loose ends that needed to be tidied up, but when I finished Chapter 2 I didn't continue on with another chapter, so I went back and over the course of two days wrote nearly 5,500 words. I figure there's another 2,000 to do and at the rate I'm going right now that should only take another week. Once I get that done I can go back and work on what is now Chapter 5. But, right now, I'm at a loss as to where the story will go from there. I suppose my biggest problem with Children of Eden is that there are so few antagonists. Even the bots have become nice, aggravatingly nice, but nice all the same.
     
    I think I want to do some sort of a sequel to Remembering Tim, which is moving right along and should be completely posted in six weeks. The story takes place in 1965/66 with two boys in high school. If I do a sequel, it will take place today and the characters will be in their sixties. Of course, those would be the main characters. There could be a full cast of supporting characters, maybe even an antagonist or two. You need good guys and bad guys or you're just telling a tale about pablum. But, where to place it? As I see it, I have four possible choices. North Park, Washington, an imaginary city carved out of the northwest corner of Seattle; Fort Okanogan, Washington, which, if it existed, is located at the confluence of the Okanogan and Columbia Rivers in North Central Washington where the Hudson's Bay Company had a post in times long past; Warnton, New York, a small college town in apple country of Upstate New York; and, somewhere in LA, where a few chapters of Remembering Tim take place. There will be a small, liberal arts college, either North Park, Fort Okanogan, Warnton, or something in the LA area. And, quite likely, there will be disease and death.
     
    It's kind of nice thinking about stories like this. It keeps the creative juices flowing, even though they may be a bit sluggish these days. Well, I go back to the psychiatrist on 3/3 and we'll see what can be done. I've been reading about adding another anti-psychotic to the mix and maybe I'll suggest that. The only problem I can see with that is the VA seems to think Abilify is a great anti-psychotic and who wants to take a pill that has immediate, unexpected death as a side effect. I want to get better, not die. If I wanted to die, I'd commit suicide.
  13. CarlHoliday
    For the optimist, all bad things do tend to fade away. I've gone from normal thru suicidal and back to some semblance of normal in three long weeks.
     
    Although mental stability has regained a footing, I don't feel I'm completely out of the woods. I would like to get back to writing, but that doesn't seem to be in the cards right now, which is okay because I have a lot of material to post on The G.M.Os. and, now, Remembering Tim.
     
    Right now I'm reading my old stuff and works by other authors here at GA. Over the course of three days I read thru Pastel Cowboy and was surprised by the number of typos I found, but there are no major structural problems with the story and I think it can stay as is for the time being.
     
    I want to thank all of my readers who expressed concern over my mental state and look forward to the day when I will be back to at least 90% of normal. I still have a strange feeling that creativity will be jeopardized in the name of mental stability, but can that be all that bad? That's the big problem with bipolar disorder, or any other mental disability, having to accept what's good while giving up somethings you feel you need or want.
     
    And, so, I move forward with the game and play the cards I've accepted because I know that I cannot go back to the darkness that exists on the other side of creative freedom.
  14. CarlHoliday
    Remembering Tim is ready for a republication with material from Tim and the Corsair added with a bridging chapter. Publication will follow under the title Remembering Tim - Redux.
     
    Mental state is stabilizing and will probably stabilize further with a change in dosage I'm implementing. From now on I'll be taking 1500 mg of Divalproex and 1 mg of Risperidone. I was taking that two years ago and will take it from now on. The only foreseeable problem is a dulling of creative abilities, but I'll have to live with that. You have to give up something to get something and, right now, mental stability is more important to me than creative talents.
     
    If all goes well, as I hope it might, once The G.M.Os. and Remembering Tim have finished publication, I'll go back and look at Pastel Cowboy and see if anything of that needs to be revised and/or changed. Well, I know there are some parts that definitely need to be changed, but I'll have to wait and see how much the creative talents are tempered by the adjustment of brain chemicals.
     
    Things are looking up even if they look level.
  15. CarlHoliday
    Over the past few days I went back to one of my stories, A Very Schticky Thing To Do, to see if there were any things that needed to be changed and/or clarified, plus find those little typos that always seem to sneak through. It was a fun journey reading through a story that I thoroughly enjoyed writing.
     
    When I first went to it I noticed that I left it as on hold. I couldn't remember why that was so. There was only one thing to do about it and that was to give a good read. The chuckles are still there especially the "wilson". I added a note at the end of Chapter 2 that I hope explains what a wilson is.
     
    I didn't find any major changes that needed to be made. Plus, although there is room for more chapters, the spark that drove the story has gone out; therefore, the story ends at a logical point at Chapter 19. I suppose some would say I should attempt to go further, but that would require more mental work than I'm currently capable of doing.
     
    I'm still working on chapter 4 of the new book, but as I've said before, it's going slow, which probably explains why I've started going through my old stories.
     
    My mental state is still very iffy. I know it's just the change in dosage, but it's still troubling having this dulled feeling in my head. I hope I can get used to the new med level as the alternative would be just giving up on creative writing for how long I do not wish to contemplate.
  16. CarlHoliday

    My New Life

    By CarlHoliday,

    I almost called the VA hospital emergency room today, but my son talked me out of it because he definitely wasn't in any mood to take me down to Seattle. I just wanted to talk to the on-call psychiatrist about how I've been feeling. You know, just talk to someone. If I feel bad again tomorrow morning, I will call, just to talk if he/she will go along with it. I'm not bad enough to call the suicide hot line, but sometimes I need to talk to someone and there's only so much Rambo is willing to listen to. My son tries, but even he doesn't understand what I'm going through.
     
    Have not written anything on Chapter 4 of The Children of Eden today. No, I do not have a block. I do have something to write, I'm just not doing that. Maybe tomorrow.
     
    Did something new today. Created a new blog on Google Blogger (old Blogspot) to journal my experiences with Type 1 Bipolar Disorder. It's called: Melancholia: Life with Type 1 Bipolar Disorder. If you're interested, it can be accessed at: http://melancholiatypeibipolar.blogspot.com/.
     
    Started reading a story by skinnydragon: Toph's Empty Year. I'm reviewing the chapters, too.
     
    Started posting comments on the forums and got access to The Pit.
     
    Next, I'll probably go on Chat.
     
    It's a new life.
  17. CarlHoliday

    Dulled

    By CarlHoliday,

    Despite having dulled thought processes probably due to the increased dosage of risperidone, life seems to be getting along. I have noticed it's harder to write. The motivation just doesn't seem to be the same as it was. I've started Chapter 4 of the new Hercules III book, but it's going slow. Chapter 3 was relatively easy, so I can only say that it must be the dulling effects I'm getting from the combination of the increased risperidone acting on the divalproex (mood stabilizer). An increase in risperidone will increase the amount of divalproex in the blood, which will dull the senses. I used to take 3,000 mg of divalproex and 1 mg of risperidone, but I couldn't write very well, so I convinced my old shrink to lessen the dosage of the divalproex to 2,000 mg. That decrease significantly improved my creative abilities.
     
    So, what do I do with this? Do I go for mood stability and decreased creative ability or back to mood instability and increased creative ability? I don't know right now. In a way I kind of like having this new to structure in my life. Other than an update on Facebook and this blog entry, I haven't written anything today. Just listening to music and diddling on the computer. I did get in my required 30 minutes of practice on the guitar, which is the one very important thing for me to do everyday. I'm just starting out so it's important to establish good practice habits early on. I think I'll be able to use that need to practice to help reinforce this structured life I'm experiencing.
     
    Though, it would be nice to have a resolution, but I'll have to wait to see the shrink in March before any changes can be made. Maybe she'll come up with something that I can take that will give me stability without dulling thought processes, making me tired all the time, and just generally f___ing me up, except for the guitar practice, that is.
  18. CarlHoliday
    Last week the shrink dropped my antidepressant and doubled the dosage of my antipsychotic. And, then, the world as I knew it began to change.
     
    I'm sure I'll eventually get used to the extra mg of risperidone, but right now I've experienced an incredible increase in weight, increased tiredness, decreased libido, and to top off everything else Microsoft ended the 30-day restriction I was experiencing with my account due to attempting to change my password, thereby enabling me to finally use my new laptop.
     
    Normally, there wouldn't have been much of a problem with changing PCs. Just create a bunch of CDs with documents and read them onto the new PC. Except, the CD drive on the old was kaput. So, having Windows 10, I had the great idea of transferring all the documents, music, and pictures up to the cloud and then moving them back down to the new PC, but, not to be, OneDrive wouldn't work on my old PC, just another nail in the coffin. Light bulb came on and one day we were down in Monroe and stopped in Staples where I asked their techie if there was a way to move all my stuff from my old PC to the new without being able to use a CD drive or use OneDrive. He took out a hammer and pulled the nail out of the coffin: "Oh, sure, we can do that for you!"
     
    When Microsoft dropped the restriction I got the new one set up and then we drove back down to Monroe and dropped off the PCs at Staples. Early on in my experience with all things computer it is always best to go to someone who knows what they're doing to get it done right.
     
    Unfortunately, the techie who worked on my PCs had a hammer and a nail. Oh, he transferred my files, I had no problem with that, but when I went into picked up the PCs he cranked up the new PC to show me what a good job he did. Damned fool drove that nail straight into the coffin. The Documents, Music, and Pictures folders were empty! He checked, yes, the files had been moved. Where, I ask? Well, let's see. Click, click, click, click, click. See, right here. They were buried so deep in the new PC that accessing them would've been near impossible. Can you fix this? Uh, sure, we can move them from there to where they need to be, shouldn't take any time at all. So, he set up a copy process to move the files. Luckily for me, but unlucky for him there was a time meter indicating the time left on the move. It was a half an hour to closing, I hadn't had dinner, I was cranky from an extra mg of risperidone, and the time left said 3 hours, 33 minutes, and counting down.
     
    Needless to say, I was pissed and went home. Well, not directly, we stopped in Sultan at Ixtapa for dinner. I had a margarita to calm my nerves. Would've preferred a double shot of Laphroaig, but I'm no longer that kind of drinking man.
     
    Today, I've got the computer back, I have a new cellphone (dumb variety), a tablet (free benie from long relationship with Verizon), my repaired guitar (broke back in August) to get back to learning how to use, Word 2016 to get used to using (from what I can see so far Microsoft has done another upgrade F**K UP), and the pleasure of creating new playlists on Groove.
     
    I do hope my mood stabilizer is going to be able to handle the inevitable mood swings I know I'm going to encounter.
  19. CarlHoliday
    Well, The G. M. Os. has finally come to an end. 26 chapters, a little over 179,000 words. Quite a project.
     
    Now all that is waiting is the publishing. Chapter 8 went up today. Chapter 9 is out for proofreading.
     
    Frankly, I’m very happy with the story. It was a good mental exercise and kept me sane for two months.
     
    Yesterday had a bit of a letdown and almost had to call the suicide hotline. Haven’t had that feeling in over five years, but I know it’s always there. Good thing I’m going to see the psychiatrist on Tuesday because the way I’m feeling at this moment, I just might have to make that call. Maybe just to have someone to talk to. Sometimes, that’s all it takes.
     
    That other story I thought I was going to do died. There’s nothing to resurrect. So, maybe a sequel to The G. M. Os. might be just what this suicidal writer needs.
     
    Strange how that works. You take the medicine, but those thoughts are always there. Scary.
  20. CarlHoliday
    The G. M. Os. has come down to the last chapter. The cycle of the story has come around to a point close to the beginning as far as relationships go. All I have to do now is write it. No, there is no block. It’s just a matter of tidying up and giving any possible continuation of the story a jumping off point.
     
    My dreams last night were very troubling. There were images from my childhood and family and friends. The scenes were very different, but they had a familiarity to them that was unsettling.
     
    Then this morning when I took Rambo out for his first in the morning potty trip (it seems to be my job to take him out, as Daddy stays in bed until Rambo comes back in), there was a brisk wind coming down from the Cascades and the sound of it swishing through our two fir trees reminded me of the fir tree that used to be in the backyard of the house where I grew up. It was a remembrance of things past and I think that is what I’m beginning to feel about Chapter 25.
     
    I have a character who entered the story at year one of age five (in The G.M.Os. that would equal fourteen years old) and now he is age 20. In the previous chapter (24) he had to deal with a family death and the opportunity of a life time. Now, he is doing what he never dreamed he would do in his childhood as he was eclipsed in abilities by his twin sister, but he will be given a chance to love another man, a chance to adopt, and a chance to live his life to the fullest.
     
    Unfortunately, sometimes I don’t let my characters have happy lives. I give them adversity and a real risk of untimely death. I think a lot of that comes from my own life, which in remembrance is something that was not happy at all. Though, and my cousin keeps stressing this, there were happy times. When you’re raised in shit sometimes you don’t recognize the smell until much later. Of course, it didn’t help that I was crazier than a loon and queerier than a three dollar bill.
     
    So, that’s where I am now. I have a boy who in an earlier chapter (18) was very endearing, a beautiful little boy who had a problem. Well, he had two problems, one serious, one not so serious. Now, everything is peachy keen, but is it? We’ll just have to see. He’s such a nice character, has all the attributes of a character who deserves the best storyline, but, well there is always a but. We’ll just have to see how it turns out. If does turn sour, maybe I won’t let him die, but give him life while the world around him crumbles into dust. That would give him another chapter; or, just another book. Have to see.
     
    In the meantime, Rambo wants to go out and run around a bit. Then I’ll take a little nap or at least rest my eyes. They’ve been giving me a bit of trouble lately.
  21. CarlHoliday
    Chapter 18? Yes, Chapter 18. I was trying to come up with what I was going to write next in the next chapter in the Hercules III saga, but I just couldn’t come up with anything logical. There just wasn’t anywhere to go even though I had the outline to go by.
     
    So, I thought about where I could go with The G. M. Os. And, then, yesterday it came to me and by five o’clock this afternoon I had completed Chapter 18. Plus, it ended with a cliff hanger, which is extremely rare for me, but seemed appropriate.
     
    So, now I have to write Chapter 19. And, there’s a strong possibility of having a Chapter 20. From where I’m at now, I can actually see this going on for a long time, but maybe I’ll end it sometime soon and then jump into a second G. M. Os. book. We’ll have to see. There is one character that I think needs to come to the commune so that will probably occur in Chapter 20 or maybe 21. I just don’t know at this point in the story.
     
    I think I have laid the foundation for a possible whole new book in this series. I have a good set of core characters who interact very well. Children are now coming into the story. Considering how long these people live and the number of years between physical ages, it is quite logical to have this go on. The structure of the commune is such that it lends itself to bringing in new characters and permitting the core set to expand and develop further. I also think the child to adult cycle is an important tool to allow one set of children to move off the commune to pursue their own lives somewhere else on Hercules III or move into the dormitories at the commune and work toward building familial relationships and having farms of their own. The possibilities are endless.
  22. CarlHoliday
    Chapter 2 - The Temple has been published. It's the first chapter of a new protagonist, Li, who is very much into meditation. I was also very much into meditation when I was studying esoteric religion. It was fun and gave me a peaceful attitude in life. Later, when I was very much into evangelical Christianity I went back to meditating on what I was reading. It helped.
     
    Of course all of that was long ago, but the memories remain. So, I gave Li a little project. Later in the book, Li will have more adventures, some good, some bad.
     
    I don't know why I go for the bad stuff all the time, but maybe it's because of all the mental trouble in my life. That's where the new book is going. In the first two chapters, the protagonist is thrown into an extreme mentally harrowing situation that has been very difficult to write. How does one describe a brutal rape of a child without making it sound erotic? How does one describe sexual abuse without being too graphic? Thankfully, I was able to give the protagonist an out that may not be what he wanted. It is a good thing that I do have that outline to go by, otherwise my thoughts might wander into areas that have no business in the story.
     
    Not really looking forward to Xmas, though. It's not much of a day around here. Xmas was a big deal when I was younger because we would go over to my grandparents to be with my cousins. There are six of us, surprisingly all a year apart. I'm the youngest, born and raised in a city, basically a sissy, and, as it has turned out, crazy as hell, but didn't know it.
     
    N_____ and I have yet to discuss what we'll be having for Xmas dinner. He'll probably want hickory smoked, grilled steaks. I've been thinking of bacon, fried eggs, and hash browns, just to be different. We've been eating burgers and steaks for the past month and a half, or so.
     
    Anyway, hope everyone has a pleasant Friday and enjoys reading Chapter 2.
  23. CarlHoliday

    Oops!

    By CarlHoliday,

    As luck would have it, I screwed up and tried to accept Microsoft’s offer of OneDrive. What a stupid thing that was. I couldn’t remember my password, and then I couldn’t remember the answers to all of the questions they asked to verify my identity. So they locked me out of my account and now I can’t send out any chapters of The G.M.Os. to get proofed. Plus, I had already sent one out one and was waiting for it to come back.
     
    So, I’m stuck for the next while or so. With help from an Admin, I was able to get the ID for my proofreader and sent her a message of my new situation, including my alternate email address. Hopefully, she hasn’t gone off on vacation for the holidays and will be back soon so I can start publishing more chapters.
     
    The new book is going along fairly well. It’s a good thing I outlined it in the beginning because that is making the writing process go a lot better that usual. The creative wave is still there, but it has slacked off a bit. Good thing I have time, since I don’t plan on publishing it until The G.M.Os. has finished. I think I’ve come up with a final title, ‘The Memoirs of Jaconnus.’ He an author of a lot of novels and dies a rich man (oh, how we dream of impossible things).
     
    The only problem so far is the sexual abuse he is subjected to in Chapter 1 and Chapter 2. Hey, what would a CarlHoliday story be without a little violence or abuse? Of course, the Warnings will occur at the beginning of each chapter so readers have a choice of proceeding or not. This will definitely not be a PG-13 story. It’ll barely qualify for NC-17.
     
    The good thing is that in each occurrence the author of the memoirs is able to see that when he was being groomed for abuse (in Chapter 1) by his friend’s father and the man who lived with his father it was wrong and he should have gotten out of that situation. He explains that in the beginning he was so innocent and naïve that he couldn’t make that determination. Plus, there weren’t any females in the house and everyone went around nude, for the most part. Then in Chapter 2 when he is drugged and brutally raped he has the ability to recognize that what happened is wrong and takes himself out of that situation by never going over to his friend’s house again. He never explains why he didn’t tell his parents, but maybe being the equivalent of eleven years old made him feel embarrassed by what happened.
     
    Chapter 2 ends with total resolution of the situation with the friend’s father and the friend, but it also ends tragically.
     
    Chapter 3 looks good with a friend from high school going to the same college. There he’ll meet a new friend and a young man who becomes his lover.
     
    Chapter 4? Well, let’s get Chapter 2 finished and then we’ll talk about 3.
     
    On the home front everything is going along fairly well. Nothing to report other than I have to call the lab where I had my blood draw from my annual PC visit. Doesn’t look good. They don’t call unless some test has to be redone.
  24. CarlHoliday
    Seems I’m on a creative wave and I don’t want to get off. Wrote the outline—which is something of an exception to my normal writing technique—today, including naming the protagonist (Jacobus or Jac), childhood friends (best friend until death is Laconus or Lac), primary friends, secondary friends, lovers, and lovers under contract. The span of the story will be from age 5 to death at 106.
     
    To the best of my chemically fuzzy memory, this will be the first time I’ve tried to write something in first person. This will be written as a memoir. Gore Vidal distinguished memoirs from autobiographies in that autobiographies are written as fact, while memoirs are written from memory, meaning that sometimes it might not be exactly as it happened.
     
    The premise of the story is the development of a gay man from sexual awareness to death. Another stretch for me will be writing this without explicit sex, but still trying to be erotic enough to maintain interest. We’ll see. Primarily, this will be about men under paid contract to an older man (Jac) to provide household duties and bedroom duties for an unspecified period of time. It takes love and throws it out the window. Though, Jac will have lifelong male friends, including Lac, who will provide strong friendship bonds (including casual sex) that will be as close to love as Jac can get.
     
    There is a part early on where Jac is seduced by Lac’s father and the father’s contract lover; these will occur in the year before Jac’s preliminary majority (on Hercules III age 15 is when someone can drink alcoholic beverages and have an active public sex life). Of course, these seductions will be noted by Jac in his memoir in the fuzzy memory of a man at age 100 (on Hercules III that is 747,116 years old), they will not be specific to the point of detailing what exactly occurred. Mostly, it will be Jac’s view that what happened was wrong and it might have had an effect on his later relations with younger men (early on after final majority at 18, later in their later 20s and early 30s).
     
    At this point, the first few chapters are fairly well in mind. As is the last chapter and the epilogue (written by the adult son (straight) of a woman he met while a young man and her husband who Jac seduced and had an affair with (what the heck, this story is about sex, mostly)).
  25. CarlHoliday

    The New Book, The End

    By CarlHoliday,

    Finally!
     
    The end has come.
     
    The GMOs ends at Chapter 17. There are no more words to add.
     
    Difficult chapter, death, evil, marriage, commitment, and children.
     
    Pending revisions, the story ends at 112,301 words.
     
    Soon, to a computer near you, The GMOs presents a world controlled by robots where humans are treated not much better than cargo as their spaceship heads out into the heavens looking for an acceptable planet for the humans to colonize. There will be crime, prisons, gay identification, gay bigotry, gay and straight sex, attempted murder, suicides, sexual evil, children, and just a touch of humor.
     
    On the whole a rather pleasant story. Difficult to write, even though the words flowed easily.
     
    The only thing to remember about this story is that it doesn’t take place here, today. If something sounds morally wrong here, it might not be there, not to say those things occur. This is a story of the future and don’t be aghast at the differences between here and there.
     
    The first chapter will carry a warning that it contains descriptions of unbelievably bloody scenes that have an important impact on the main protagonist of the whole story. After that, those chapters that contain something that some may find uncomfortable to read will contain a warning. Unfortunately, skipping a chapter may have a detrimental impact on reading further chapters; miss something now, might not understand what’s happening later, not to say that will occur.
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