Category Archives: Pantsing

KHRONOS, FIXED: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge 2019

Standard

KHRONOS, FIXED

LIQUID TIME

“As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.” ~ ~ Henry David Thoreau

Z dragged V synchronously

through time as a variable

plowing through constants

converted t=d/s through m/t = rVa

Inseparability minus permanence

Undergoing

TRANSITION

Falling through fissures in space, witnessing

TRANSITION

Moments of conceptualizations, births, meetings, lovers, divides, becoming, endings, rebirths

TRANSITION

Motes in each other’s eyes

TRANSITION TRANSITION TRANSITION TRANSITION TRANSITION TRANSITION

Touching down with unerring precision

Experiencing

Changing

Expunging

Becoming

Overcoming

TRANSITION

To become love

To forge destruction

To navigate the river of time in its unremitting flow

To navigate the river of time

To navigate the river

To Navigate

Z sprawled to be TIME

V implored Z to STOP

(ZV) unfolded,

they touched the hem of Ti…

KHRONOS

took notice

“If time and reason are functions of each other, if we are creatures of time, then we had better know it, and try to make the best of it. To act responsibly.”

~ ~Ursula K. Le Guin

Comments are always welcome and appreciated.

Thank you.

JANICULUM AT A JUNCTURE: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge 2021

Standard

JANICULUM AT A JUNCTURE

LIQUID TIME

“Time brings all things to pass.” ~ ~ Aeschylus

elsEwhen XI

Z ░ V

Z ▒ V

Z▓V

Z∞V

JANICULUM

The Goddess strode into Janiculum through the Gates of Prógramma Spoudón. Her long, unbound hair trailed, tendrils caressing those in her wake. The colors shifted with every other step, taking on the hues of the flowers of the land. Some colors came from other realities, yet none in her presence remarked on the uniqueness. Tall, shapely, skin of a golden-olive hue, caught each eye, young and old alike.

The city-state was festooned with garlands of the sweetest aroma of the scythed. Purple hued feathery fronds, strung through the masses of golds, reds, yellows, and blues. It had taken a harvest to adorn the Goddess Alcyeyx’s walk way to her temple.

Deep genuflections as she passed. The muddy streets stained the linen Himation the populace wore. None were concerned. Their Goddess had arrived. Cheers of “Bless the Winds. Bless the Seas” reverberated throughout. The surrounding mountains concurred in receding echo.

Omens of dire times to come were brushed away with Alcyeyx’s arrival. The Oracle of the Peak wailed her laments to deaf ears once the Goddess arrived. Submitting to the inevitable, the Oracle retreated before the Sun vanished into the ocean. She knew she would return. After.

Rituals were cast, wine flowed, the food was plentiful. Everything was carried to excess. Children with slightly bloated bellies lay fast asleep on straw, patches of grass, and the shorn gardens. They nestled in the land of dreams.

The wine was never ending. Alcyeyx bequeathed that to her people, her devotees, her sacrificial stream. The crowds grew raucous as the skies went black. Fights were few; love making was key. Other lands degraded their festivals, the obscene, to them, rendering of garments, the cries of passions, the coming of more children being placed.

All of those in Janiculum were lost in their revels, as was Alcyeyx. Many women of youth and of age tasted the Goddess’s lips, felt the strong soft gliding over their unadorned flesh. As many came to Alcyeyx as she went to her worshippers. All were left beyond sated.

Except.

Except Alcyeyx, whose inner turmoil, the two sides of her constantly clashing, left part of her drained as the other part was elated. This had been the way of things since their metamorphosis. Two strong essences tugged, one always angry, the other mad. Or so the Angry One crowed.

Ten times ten², or when counting ended, were the battles, the pleas, the promises…

Z always called V out on the promises. For a while after, things would subside.

The call of the winds at the ascending sun found Alcyeyx looking beyond the walls of this beloved stronghold. Janiculum was one of the few things they embraced. Yet, the need for elsEwhen called.

The Goddess lifted her arms, raised her chin, and felt the West Wind blow her hair East.

If anyone had been awake at this juncture, they would surely have noticed the golden-olive hued Kingfisher take to the skies and then…

Khione, Nymph of contempt and snow, took satisfaction in Alcyeyx’s leave-taking.

Now, it was Khione’s time to take.

TRANSITION

The Kingfisher squabbled with itself, as it phased into the void.

TALES OF TALE SPINNING

Standard
©Edward Gorey

TALES OF TALE SPINNING

OR

The A to Z Epics, More or Less

I started Tale Spinning at the beginning of 2011 as an offshoot of BornStoryteller. The latter went more towards non-fiction, rants, comparisons, and observations. Tale Spinning: an experiment in creative writing was the space I needed.
Since then, I’ve gone through periods of both non-stop writing and those “dry” spells, where nothing inspired or motivated me.

Joining the A to Z Blogging Challenge in April 2011 was one of the smartest moves I’ve ever made. I’ve pushed my own boundaries over the ten years, always looking for that “challenge.” Taking risks is stimulating. A lot of what I write is expressing what is burning within me at the moment.

Which is probably why I have trouble continuing plunging into the worlds and characters I’ve built over the years. The roller-coaster upheaval of my life during these last ten years have jaggedly flowed from euphoric to complete and utter numbness. This isn’t a pity party. Just stating the facts, ma’am.

Many bloggers/writers I have “met along the way have become family. What is “Family is Chosen” for $2,000, Alex?” (Man, I miss Alex Trebek. Right now, I am Team Levar Burton to become the new host. Reading Jeopardy Rainbow!). It’d take me the rest of the day (it’s early here) to point you all out, but my thanks and love are hereby sent. I even met the woman I love writing these blog posts during that first A to Z. Present tense, even though we are not together anymore.

Shit happens.

Anyways.

List Time. In case, you know, want to read past (and present) A to Z attempts. Each set starts with A on April 1st of that year. There might be a few preceding posts/teases over the years as I tried out the new voice I was shooting for.

A TO Z POSTS

Here’s something not A to Z that I’d love to get your feedback/comments. I keep getting drawn back to it on an emotional/mental level, but have not added a thing to it in quite a while. These were written during the summer of 2011.

The Kitsune-Mochi and Fox Saga

HALCYON POINT OF APOAPIS: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge 2021

Standard

HALCYON POINT OF APOAPIS

Liquid Time

A to Z Blog Challenge 2021

“The moment is not properly an atom of time but an atom of eternity. It is the first reflection of eternity in time, its first attempt, as it were, at stopping time.” ~ ~Søren Kierkegaard

A total absence of light.

Whatever you have thought of as darkness is another lie. The bromides swirl with similes, throwing up black as night, a raven, a ministers cloak, the death card, a void, as pitch, black as the devil’s heart. You’ve lost paradise, unaware that the loss is profound.

Valentina Ceit Marin never gave any thought to the immensity of Eternity. She had been filled beyond any brim with awareness of the moment, framing the moments to come, shedding the moments of the past. Her no looking back attitude has brought her HERE.

Panic is begging to take control. The gut squeezes tight. Both temples are strafing her head, settling into the eyes, the base of the nasal passage. Valentina tried to raise her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. No hand came. Trying again, failure beat a drum. All jointed points of her skeleton were trigger locked. She took in that she could breath, that her eyes still rolled around, that the lids could go up or down.

It was then that she grew aware of what was not outside of her body. She wasn’t standing on any surface. No chains or puppet master strings held her up. She wasn’t floating, drifting around the void of space. Neither weightless nor sense of being. She was THERE.

Panic began to win. She had a mouth but it would not open to release the inside screams. Knowing this was not the her that she was and the her she cultivated, the shell, direct confrontation, the eagerness, the mean moments, the want of things, the dismissals. It was too much.

It was, too much.

It was…

A fracture of light.

Z was. Here. There.

A vast difference of space split them apart. The were opposites in depth.

Sweat filtered through Val’s skin. It beaded and dripped from her brow, coated her arms. Another aspect that was not Val.

She could not do anything.

“Hello, Valentina.”

FLEETING: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge April 2021

Standard

FLEETING

Liquid Time

A to Z Blog Challenge

“Time is a companion that goes with us on a journey. It reminds us to cherish each moment, because it will never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we have lived.” ~ ~ Captain Jean-Luc Picard

Zero hour. Day. Era. Epoch. Eon. Aeon.

Z subdivides along a non-unilinear line. Stopping milliseconds to absorb, dispel, bask.

Those are the fragments where a thought filters through.

Z assembles the pieces. Z experiences every emotional spectrum idea, searching for

Love.

Z does not believe in love. Love, to Z, equates to Pain.

Pain is a constant. Love=Pain never has/is/will be love ≠ pain. It is exact. For Z, it is exact.

There are no approximates.

Any/every instance Love touches Z is followed by an infinite drop.

Z is lost.

Inside, Z is lost in gathering specifics. The pure, unwavering distillation of Z’s perception of Love.

The amassing is complete.

Z stretches the limits of time to compact and keep.

The next second arrives.

Without the pain association. Z is blocking out the aftermath, the thrown away aspect, the being left, unnoticed, unwanted.

Another point arrives. The whole splinters.

Z

TRANSISTION

NEW!!!! TALE SPINNING is also a Podcast!

I plan to start recording MY reading of my posts. Maybe by 5/12/2021. Knowing me, maybe 2022. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the narration.

You can find Tale Spinning on:

Spotify iTunes PocketCasts Breaker Google Podcasts RadioPodcast (last two awaiting verification).

Tale Spinning, the Podcast, will include past series, interviews, and more.

Please Support Tale Spinning.

You can subscribe on any of the above platforms.

Comments are always welcome.

ElSeWHEN: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge April 2021

Standard

ELSeWHEN

Liquid Time

A to Z Blog Challenge

“Forever is composed of nows.” ~ Emily Dickinson 

Z thought as a black whole.

Z experienced everything at this/that moment without color.

Z tasted in shadows.

From the shadows came terror.

Z was a variant of a virulent tinnitus strain. Z was at a fixed point of -50 dB.

Z is the shriek that passes through the outer, middle, and inner structures, vibrating into an E Tube.

Traveling is a poor word of choice for Z in this state of being. Peripatetic is more to the point. Z travels from place to place, being to being, dimension by gradation of planes of existence

Z connects.

There are multitudes of levels of every emotional path that any can experience . Z knows.

There are a multitude of levels of pain. Hundreds of millions of points of view involving hundreds of millions of junctures, phases, factors, accents, factors. Z connects to All. All. All.

Z is at zero hour.

TRANSISTION

THE LAB

FLOAT POD con

“Stop fussing. Stop. I’m fine.”

Pushes hand away.

I said stop!”

Cursing, the medic walks out.

“Karen, there is nothing I can add to my statement.”

Debris is being removed. New equipment is being installed.

“Look, Val. Standard BS to make them happy. I know you. I know. Knew, Tyson. Just tell me what you edited out.”

Glare met stare.

“I do not have all day, Dr. Fill in the fucking blanks.”

Takes glass. Sips water. Another sip.

“VAL!”

“Tyson didn’t screw up. I did not screw up. He was being an ass, as usual.”

Pause.

“Fine. You heard the Banshee call. You heard the escalation. Then the cessation. The console sparked. I woke up on the steps, behind the railing.” Sips. “No, again, I have no idea how I wound up there. The pain in my back, my battered face? Stairs. Boom.”

Stare.

“Why did you break Tyson’s fingers?”

Pause.

“I…”

“Why did you break Tyson’s fingers?”

Pause.

Head turns. Sees FP. Nothing. Still in one piece.

Head still turned away.

“Jackass was reaching to mute. The data coming in and Tyson thought he was going to the mute button. He reached too far. He was going to incinerate the inside of the pod.”

“And?”

“He couldn’t hear me, damnit. He couldn’t hear me call out. I went for his wrist. My eyes were vibrating. Wrist. Hand. Fingers. I needed to stop him. So, I did.””

“And?”

Staring at the Float Pod. Shrugs shoulders.

Heartbeats pass.

“OK.”

Nod of head.

A chukka boot approaches.

Hand taps her shoulder.

“Dr. Marin? I need you to come with me, ma’am.
Her head turns to the other woman.

“Go with him, Valentina. Go. I’ll be with you again. Soon.”

Dr. Valentina Marin leaves what’s left of the lab.

She does not turn to look back.

THIS IS THE DAY Z DOES NOT DIE

DURATION: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge 2021

Standard

DURATION

Liquid Time

A to Z Blogging Challenge 2021

Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.” ~ Douglas Adam

FLOAT POD co

The Lab

Z is keening.

The sound is crisply clear. The recessed wall mics in the FP are attuned to the lab speakers.

The keening spits out of the quadrasonic subwoofers.

“Whoa. What the hell? It’s never been this lo…”

“Quiet.”

“Hey, I know. I know. But…that sound. From that thing.”

“That “thing” inside the FP is a person. That “sound” is being recorded.”

Pause.

“As are we.”

Pause.

Pause

“I know. I know. I kinda meant the FP.”

“Kind of.”

“Shit. Really? Kind of?”

Pause

” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~”

“What are you mumbling about now?”

Sigh.

“Never mind. Forget I asked.”

Glares.

“I said, Ms. Grammar Patrol…no. Fuck it.”

Turns.

“When are we being relieved? We’re overdue.”

Pause.

“Really overdue.”

A hand slams the console.

“You know the when. Again and again. You’re worse than a child’s ad nauseam ‘Are we there yet?’ Enough.”

“I want out.”

Stone silence.

“I mean it this time. I do. This is as stressful as it is boring. My yawns bore the other yawns.”

Counts to three.

“Look, we don’t know when that freak will go nuke, but we know it will happen. Aren’t you tired of this?”

Z’s keening elevates to 142 dB from a steady 50 dB.

“Shit shit shit!.”

Tries to mute the system. Fingers are grabbed; bent backwards.

“Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkk.”

Tears wiped away. Damaged hand nursed in the opposite axilla.

“Fuck. Why did you do that?”

The wail crossfades to 0 dB. No increase.

The control panels spark.

Pause.

“Hey. Your ear. You’re dripping blood. No. The other ear.”

Dead silence.

TRANSITION


“You get what anybody gets. You get a lifetime.” ~ Neil Gaiman

Tomorrow

Epoch: Liquid Time

Comments are always welcome.

Who Do You Write For? Some AtoZ biz

Standard
Dream With Writing

WHO DO YOU WRITE FOR?

SOME A TO Z BIZ

LIQUID TIME

In case you did not notice, I am taking a huge leap/risk in style, content, and formatting with LIQUID TIME. So, who am I writing for? Just for myself? Just for the audience? 50/50?

Most times it is for myself, to see how far I can stretch, hone my skills. How, on later rereads, does it hold up way past the due date of the emotions that pummeled me while writing. I take risks. Not every one of them pans out. Some lead me to different approaches, different research, different observations of life.

On the readers hand(s), I do do my crafting for the reader(s) as well. I look for commentary, what pleases, what doesn’t, the whys behind either stance one takes. Suggestions are taken in the (hopefully) intention’s delivery, as a “have you thought about…?” or “Would you consider…”; a way that I construe as just that: a suggestion from another’s POV.

Suggestions, for me to think about, to possibly add to, delete, or turn things around. They are given to support, encourage, and give the author a different POV lens to consider.

I do not take demands into consideration. Nor the comments that essentially read “If I was the author…” or “You should not…” Well, you aren’t the author, that’s in my hands. As to the “should not…?” Really? Really?

“No” hasn’t a place here in Tale Spinning. My cranky two cents, plus inflation.

LINKS LINKS LINKS

Liquid Time Postings

2021 Theme Reveal

Liquid Time: A Portent

ABSOLUTE 31,536,000

BACKWARDS

CONTINUANCE

A to Z Main Link & Blogs to Follow

Blogging from A to Z April Challenge 2021

TOSSING IT OUT

THE MULTICOLORED DIARY

BLOG OF J LENNI DORNER

THE SOUND OF ONE HAND TYPING

THE GREAT RAVEN

SASCHA DARLINGTON’S MICROCOSM

ROSE THE STORYLADY

JO HAWK THE WRITER

FICTION CAN BE FUN

HD HISTORY

BREWING COFFEE, TWISTING WORDS & BREAKING PENCILS

ATHERTON’S MAGIC VAPOUR

THE CURRY APPLE ORCHARD

WEEKENDS IN MAINE

Iian KELLY-FICTION WRITING

KEITH’S RAMBLINGS

THE OLD SHELTER

I will post more blog links I follow later in the week. Please visit & leave them a comment

Thanks, All.

CONTINUANCE: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge 2021

Standard

CONTINUANCE

Liquid Time

AtoZ Blogging Challenge

“My past is everything I failed to be.” ~ Fernando Pessoa

Z writhed through bouts of slaughter.

An eternal splintering of that moment(s).

Here, the push. The electricized rail. The train.

Here, the backhand. The kick. The stairway. The neck.

Here, the rifle. The scope. The contract. The hit.

Here, the airlock. The depressurizing. The ejections.

Here, the bolt, the honed Bowie, the smile.

The neck. The liver. The heart

The blood. The blood. The bisection.

Trespassing under sea, through the stars, across the multiverse, homes, hovels, a maze of mazes.

Never ending.

There was no end.

Z slayed everywhere.

It was too much.

It was too much.

It was, too much.

TRANSITION

Ad infinitum.

body locked killing blows body locked ejected released hired passion hunted hunter poisoner stalker ripper strangler clown giggling gouger monster butcher mad-man/woman self-defense abuse insanity cold-stone drugged drunk protection protecting pro-active suicidal sadistic black widow peeping tom cowboy vampire torturer exsanguination executioner

Z’s hands dripped red.

Z became another moment.

Z’s eyes closed, teeth clenched, long exhalation.

Z collapsed into Fetal Prime.

This is the day Z doesn’t die

Z was/is/will be

Sunday, April 2, 2021: A list!

Monday, April 5, 2021: D

Comments/feedback are always welcome.

BACKWARDS: Liquid Time AtoZ Blogging Challenge, 2021

Standard

BACKWARDS

Liquid Time

A to Z Blogging Challenge 2021

Shard by shard we are released from the tyranny of so-called time.” Patti Smith

FLOAT POD c

Z is not in a raster format.

Yet, pixelated within the FP (Float Pod), Z is obscured. There are no filters, graininess, or fuzziness. Z is not enlarged in the chamber; more the reverse. In the perverse total dark, floating on chemical laden liquid, Z contemplates a linear spiral.

It began once the Pod door was shut, blocking out the lights of the room, a total eclipse of fluorescent tube bulbs.

Until.

Awareness fades with ease. Z has/is/will experience(d)(ing) the mindful disassociation gift that the FP offers. Not a womb as others had/have/will deride(d) it. Z dives freely, embracing the dissolution, not surrendering to it. Z does not know where the absolute certainty in the purity of the Float Pod comes from. Yet, it is there.

Z vibrates from a pure, righteous (without the trappings), hole in Z’s soul. It is all encompassing.

Unintentionally, Z synch’s into the O². The plunge causes

TRANSITION

z to fracture

every muscle seized trembling to an unheard beat z’s middle twisted into a double fisher man’s knot numbness came taking control z slipped away from z in any tense a full force centrifuge bodily liquids separated density versus density the shell splintering no control no control z found every zeptosecond of z’s life if z hadn’t been in synch there might have have been, is a, or will be a z no warning that

Z fell into a moment. One Z had been able to walk away from. The next moment was just as bad as the preceding one. Z knew the pattern. Z’s fists clenched.

“Damn it!”

THE LAB

Schrödinger’s Float Pod sat in it’s birth.

This is the day Z doesn’t die

Z was/is/will be

So the journey begins. Backwards, like the Ghost of Christmas Past. 

I want to give thanks to MAXIME LAGACÉ of Wisdom Quotes. 

Yes, the internet is full of links to a plethora of quote sites. I’ve cherry picked the specific ones that have wound up on past posts. This time, Wisdom Quotes made it easy with one stop shopping. Uh, I mean copying. Yeah. That.  There’s a powerful story behind the Wisdom Quotes site. More power to Maxime Lagacé.

Special note: If you are seeing a Kurt Vonnegut “Slaughterhouse 5” feel to this, it’s a semi-conscious choice. Z is by no means Billy Pilgrim, and I am not trying to plagiarize Mr. Vonnegut’s amazing book in any way. A beginning homage? I’ll plead the fifth on that one. With Continuance (April 3rd), Z begins the tread to elsewhere.

Please leave any comments &/or feedback below. It is always much appreciated.

C you tomorrow.

LIQUID TIME PATH

Liquid Time: a Portent

Absolute 31,536,000