I want to talk about records. I don’t mean those emails that need to be saved because they are “important records”, nor those receipts you keep in an old shoebox for your taxes. I’m talking about those funny vinyl disks you might run into in an antique store. You know, you place them on a spinnie-thing, place a needle in a groove and music comes out!
Yeah, I know, old people and random memories.
Anyway, I was watching a Youtube video and some people were talking about the future of music and they brought up this important part of the past.
There once was a time when you would go to a person’s house and the first thing you would do is look through their record collection.
When those vinyl disks might cost a significant part of your super limited disposable income, you only bought music that was important to you. What a person chose to spend those precious pennies on said a huge amount about them. Even if they had a largish collection, it said a lot.
Did you ever read The Count of Monte Cristo? I always thought it funny how much the lives of all of the characters had changed over the years. When we are introduced to them at the beginning of the book they are relatively poor people living in a small, out of the way town. When we meet them again many years later they are living the high life in Paris. Can anyone really make those great changes in life?
I recently talked to a friend I hadn’t seen in many years. I only received a snapshot of her life over the years, but it was enough to tell me that the course of her life wasn’t what I expected from when I knew her.
Thinking back to others I knew from my high school and college days, there are many who took a very predictable path, but there are a few who’s journey was totally unexpected. Some ended up much better off, some not as well off and some just different.
To which category do I belong, the predictable or the unexpected? And if my life has been unexpected, has it turned out for the better or for the worse? Continue reading →
Recently someone told me that her uncle really liked The Monsters’ House, which is the first story in my short story collection, Seasons of Imagination. I told her that I wasn’t too surprised, given how much symbolism there is in the story. I then said that I really don’t use a lot of symbolism in my short stories.
“Why not?” she asked.
She had me there: why not? I think it is because I typically write “flash fiction” instead of “short stories”. My typical story is made for my blog. It is usually very short. Not including the 100-word Friday Fictioneers, my typical story runs about 1,000 words. They tell a simple story. The Monsters’ House is closer to 8,000, maybe 9,000 words. It is complex. The characters have time to breath and grow. There is room for little motives and symbolism.
Still, why not? Why don’t I use more symbolism? I know it does creep into my stories, sometimes intentionally, usually not, i.e., subconsciously. But I rarely sit down and think it through. Continue reading →
“He also had a faraway look in his eye, which Elliot always reserved for dunces and dreamers.” – The Fireborn
No matter how suitable you are to receive the ancient sword Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake, the biggest requirement is that you are actually someone who can believe that the possibility exists that the Lady of the Lake will give you the sword Excalibur. That is, you need to be able to see far beyond the mundane (a dreamer) or be so stupid that you can’t understand why it is impossible (a dunce).
Or so goes one of themes I’ve often used in my writing.
Dunces and Dreamers, Dreamers and Dunces. As I look in the mirror, both that reflecting my physical image and that reflecting “the real me”, I wonder if the two are so far apart…
Expectations, or when drunken girls turn nerds into heroes….
I was reading a post by Lisa on “Zen and Pi” when an ancient memory came back, one I haven’t thought of, mostly likely since it happened all of those years ago. First, I want to say that I don’t want to downplay her (Lisa’s) serious post with this bit of silliness, but there was something in there that brought this up.
One weekend night during my Senior year of college, one of my roommates and I went out drinking. This was Ohio State, so this was a very big past-time 😉 All of the nightclubs were off of the southeast corner, while we lived off of the northeast corner of campus. This is a huge campus…
We were both Introverts. I don’t know about other college age Introverts, but back then I often had trouble going to clubs, though I did it all of the time. The sensory overload makes my brain turn off. I see all of the excitement around me and want to join, but don’t know where to start. Back then it too often ended up with one or two too many beers. No, I wouldn’t get sick or falling down drunk or anything like that (not often), but I might be a little more than just slightly tipsy. Continue reading →
Two paths either diverge or collide, I haven’t decided which…
Early in the history in my blog I decided to post a poem every Tuesday. This was my first regular feature and the only one that has lasted. In the past several weeks I’ve occasionally gone back and read a poem or two or five. I am not a great poet, but I do enjoy many of them.
People who have been reading my blog recently might know that I am in the middle of a writing streak. I’ve been posting quite a few stories, have been posting a serialized novel and have been editing two other books off line. My prose writing is full-steam ahead.
It was a cold night, too cold for any reasonable man to go outside. The caretaker knew because he had been out a little earlier, nipping off of the bottle hidden in the carriage house. The warm glow in his belly was beginning to fade and fog on his brain to lift, so he decided to make another run out for another nip. With a little heater full of hot coals in one hand and a lantern in the other he headed for the door. The kids would never know.
The caretaker stumbled and dropped the lamp. Oil splashed everywhere. Cursing, he put down the heater and grabbed another lantern. It would be cold, but he needed his nip.
Once outside he put a bar across the front door. His main responsibility as the night caretaker was to make sure none of the kids ran away. The Master had strange ideas about childcare that most people found pretty cruel. The kids didn’t appreciate it either, so many of them often tried to escape at night. The bar would keep them in as he strolled out to the carriage house. As he turned he heard a noise from inside and smelled smoke, but his alcohol drenched brain didn’t register the senses. Continue reading →
While searching for a topic for today’s post I realized that I haven’t complained about my lack of time in quite some time. Yes, I have had posts stating that I was taking a blog slowdown because of lack of time, but no posts were I have actually sat down and whinedcomplained talked about my lack of time. It’s funny, these types of posts used to be a fixture here at Trent’s World and came up with clockwork precision. Oh well, I guess I just haven’t had the time to post one.
It isn’t that I’ve finally found myself rich with time. No, no, I haven’t found that elusive door to step sideways from the stream of time and make it stand still while I did the things I need to do. I still have that same lack of time as I’ve always had. I think it’s because I’ve been too busy to complain. It’s just awful when you’re too busy “doing” to complain that you don’t have enough time to do anything, isn’t it? Continue reading →
Life is full of coincidence. It seems that almost every day there will be a moment when I’ll think of something and it happens. Oh, like a random memory of a friend I haven’t seen in years will come to mind. Later in the day I’ll get an e-mail from that person. Or someone will mention a song and it happens to be the next song up on the radio.
Coincidences also happen in blogging. Perhaps my greatest blogging coincidence occurred a couple of weeks ago. Continue reading →