Ok, here's a good one, I woke up dreaming I was writing the opening line from a book I am writing. The funny part was, it was all about someone who is not necessarily a main player in this book, more like a peripheral hanger on. Nevertheless, here's the name that came to me in the dream, Reagahn Meagahn Antonelli. A confused Italian Irish girl from Chicago who's parents cruelly named her that back in 1980. Her parents were drug addicts (and still are) at the time of her birth and they found the rhyming play on words for her two given names to be hilarious. (btw, for those of you who don't know how the writing process works, this is how it works, I actually woke up knowing all this about Reagahn Meagahn, her motivations in life and how she got her name).

 

At any rate, Reagahn Meagahn Antonelli went by Meg and had been married at least twice in her 27 years (and just so happens to be currently married to some guy name Tim Cauhnt, a real putz and a sanitation engineer) and so had lost the Antonelli name long ago. She had had one child out of wedlock at 15 and had had two more, one with the first husband and 1 with Tim, all three girls. In the opening paragraph however, we meet Meg laying spread eagle on her back in the middle of having a conversation about how she got named Reagahn Meagahn Antonelli with Harold (he has no last name yet), her Sugar Daddy as he is busy doing his business on top of her.

 

The odd part about this dream is, I am just in the middle of character development and I honestly haven't named any characters yet. Well, except for Meg, she has a name now. At the end of this opening scene/dialog, Harold finishes his business and as Meg is leaving his house, he gives Meg a check for $500 so she can pay her utilities this month. Harold at least gets laid once in a while for the money he puts out to support Meg and her occasionally working husband. Meg also works in a roadhouse as a waitress in a little one horse town in the middle of the Southwest Missouri Ozarks near the Arkansas border. She is mildly attractive, but more than anything, she is a really good at making men feel like they want to give her the world on a platter, she just has no idea how to get the kind of men she really wants. What she really wants is men with money, prestige and power. So far, Harold is the only one she has managed to catch the eye of who has any expendable income to share with her.

 

So that's how it works. You just watched/read the development (so far) of a minor character in a book who just so happens to open the book, or at least this chapter. The fun part about characters you create is, you can do anything to and with them you want. It's sort of like playing the Sims only with words. It's simply the act of creation. Giving birth to that which lives in your head and heart.

 

Someone told me yesterday that I am more honest here than they would be in their journal if they had one. I just want to mention here that I am not nearly as honest as I could be. These are my feelings, my perceptions of my experiences and the ensuing thoughts that come from my experiences. I am blatantly honest with my feelings. But even in here I am not as honest as I could be. I often hide things, veil them so that the real feelings and thoughts remain hidden. Where I put the real feelings, when they scream out to be expressed, is in my very private journal. There, the real feelings are allowed full expression. I hold nothing back in there. I can say exactly what I feel like in there because I completely control the access to that place. So if you have ever seen it, feel privileged, it's extremely rare that I share it with anyone.

 

Barbara Harmony says I should be writing and so I am writing. Now if only I spent more time in school studying syntax and how to conjugate a verb. I am not really sure what a past participle is, I do however remember missing that question repeatedly on tests and in class discussions. Maybe if I knew how to conjugate a verb and could tell you what a past participle was, I would actually be a better writer.  I'd like to say I would be a published writer, but I already am a published writer. Got paid money and everything. It was of course for a fetish publication and was written with obsessed straight males in mind, but hey, I managed to get it written and I got paid, and they printed the sucker in their rag, so I am a published author.

 

In a final bit of news here, I still don't smoke. I dreamt I did last night (Glen says "we call that "Using" dreams in program" <grin>). In fact, I was chain smoking in my dream last night.  (Glen says I always chain smoked, I said, "No, not like this, I was lighting one smoke off of the other I was smoking so much.") Today I hacked up some ugly shit. Sue says that will go on for a while and that my body is starting to detox from the nicotine. I am not sure about that since I am still on a patch, albeit a lower dose patch. I think I need some lung cleaning stuff, like a steam cleaning/extraction machine or something. Do they make that for lungs?

 

Ok, I am done....

 

Ciao baby.