Leibniz Clockwork

I wonder how particular horseback riding is. Is there a lot of prep? Is it basically another job? I bet it is.

I left the best engineering job I’ve ever had, or am liable to get, because I don’t like engineering that much. Maybe I need to go hard in the writing and creative stuff, and keep everything else in perspective.

Realistically, the answer is probably moderation.

But that’s no fun. Engineering pays the bills. Writing fuels the soul. I do quite enjoy sleeping indoors.

Someone said to me, ‘My friend is a good person, so she deserves to win the lottery.’

Okay?

I don’t see what the argument is here. That’s not how lotteries work. Winning or not winning the lottery isn’t related in any causal relationship to moral worth, other than perhaps inversely through fraud. Those two points just don’t reflect each other.

The Christian Bible has a good bit on this. ‘Give to Ceasar what is Ceasar’s; give to the Lord what is the Lord’s.’ Generalized, things can be different. One thing might not affect another. Moral goodness, the Lord’s affair, has little to do with money, Ceasar’s.

I think I’ll make the Mara ebook free again the first week of November and once again in December.

That will probably be the last of it. I need to focus on work.

What most of you probably want to hear about is what I’m writing.

But what I’m writing has to stay covered. As soon as I let it out, it hardens.

Not to be vague, when I poke and poke at an idea, spinning something out, writing a scene, drawing a thread, etc., it stays ‘soft’ in my head. Oh, Random might do this. Hector should say that. Elegy sticks her nose around here. But they might not, and there’s no mental cost to expanding, exploring, or smushing.

But the second I tell someone any of that, the story ideas ‘harden.’ Now someone else knows I was thinking Random should do this or Mara that. Since most of my ideas are just play for me, they don’t go anywhere, and they don’t harden into things. If they do, they get moved about a little, which is more difficult if the idea already has some form. I like my little forms. I don’t like manipulating them excessively.

So, like dough in the fridge, I keep my plot nibbits and threads in a box in my machine, where they bubble, blorp, and may do something. I actually tried doing it the other way, but that didn’t work. All writing crashed to a halt.

“Party Rock,” cried Sauron. “Party rocking in the house, tonight.”

I’m hungry for ramen.