Irony

I didn't write about this when it happened on Wednesday evening. But it's the reason I stayed up until midnight that night and finished "Grand Obsession".

Normally Teri and Sebastian pick me up at the train station in the evening. But on Wednesday I made a mistake and thought that I was having dinner with my father and brother that night. For some reason I completely forgot that my father had called a few days earlier and told me that we needed to reschedule. Brain glitch, I guess.

Anyway, Teri had left our car at the station for me to drive home (her mother drove there with her and took her out to dinner after). I took the train home; it was earlier than I had expected (if dinner had happened), but later than normal. I found the car, hopped in, and headed home.

As I was driving, my cell phone rang.

Now, I want to emphasize that I did NOT take my eyes off the road. I reached for the phone in my jacket pocket, but was still watching the road.

And that's when a large dog, probably a golden retriever, jumped out from between two parked cars - straight in front of my car.

I slammed on the brakes, but I'd had almost no warning at all; he'd jumped out less than ten feet from me. Fortunately I wasn't going at all fast. But still, I hit him fairly hard as I came to a stop.

I don't think he went down; if he did, he was up again almost instantly. He was carrying something large, a newspaper I think, and he didn't drop it. But there was a definite "thump", and I'm pretty sure I felt the impact. But the tires didn't go over him; as far as I can tell he was simply hit by the front of my car (and when I checked it later, the car had no damage at all).

Whether he was knocked down or not, a second later he ran across the street, across a yard, and was out of sight. I saw no sign of a limp. So I started up again and drove home.

I was pretty upset, although I'd have been much more upset if I'd killed him or visibly hurt him. Teri called back, and I didn't treat her well; she told me I should call the police, and I freaked out a little.

By the time I got home I was a little numb and pretty angry. There's a leash law in that town, damn it! Dogs are supposed to be tied up.

And then I thought, "suppose that the dog's owner was just a boy, like Sebastian, who wanted his dog to run free a little?"

That made me feel bad, I can tell you!

But on top of it all I was weirded out; the similarities between what had happened and "Grand Obsession" weren't shockingly close, but they were close enough to freak me out.

And that's why I ended up staying up and finishing the story that night. I couldn't sleep.

Incidentally, I didn't post about the dog on Wednesday or Thursday because I didn't want to bump "Grand Obsession" from the top of my journal; didn't want to do anything that might reduce the chance of getting some feedback.

Pathetic, huh?

Irony

I didn't write about this when it happened on Wednesday evening. But it's the reason I stayed up until midnight that night and finished "Grand Obsession".

Normally Teri and Sebastian pick me up at the train station in the evening. But on Wednesday I made a mistake and thought that I was having dinner with my father and brother that night. For some reason I completely forgot that my father had called a few days earlier and told me that we needed to reschedule. Brain glitch, I guess.

Anyway, Teri had left our car at the station for me to drive home (her mother drove there with her and took her out to dinner after). I took the train home; it was earlier than I had expected (if dinner had happened), but later than normal. I found the car, hopped in, and headed home.

As I was driving, my cell phone rang.

Now, I want to emphasize that I did NOT take my eyes off the road. I reached for the phone in my jacket pocket, but was still watching the road.

And that's when a large dog, probably a golden retriever, jumped out from between two parked cars - straight in front of my car.

I slammed on the brakes, but I'd had almost no warning at all; he'd jumped out less than ten feet from me. Fortunately I wasn't going at all fast. But still, I hit him fairly hard as I came to a stop.

I don't think he went down; if he did, he was up again almost instantly. He was carrying something large, a newspaper I think, and he didn't drop it. But there was a definite "thump", and I'm pretty sure I felt the impact. But the tires didn't go over him; as far as I can tell he was simply hit by the front of my car (and when I checked it later, the car had no damage at all).

Whether he was knocked down or not, a second later he ran across the street, across a yard, and was out of sight. I saw no sign of a limp. So I started up again and drove home.

I was pretty upset, although I'd have been much more upset if I'd killed him or visibly hurt him. Teri called back, and I didn't treat her well; she told me I should call the police, and I freaked out a little.

By the time I got home I was a little numb and pretty angry. There's a leash law in that town, damn it! Dogs are supposed to be tied up.

And then I thought, "suppose that the dog's owner was just a boy, like Sebastian, who wanted his dog to run free a little?"

That made me feel bad, I can tell you!

But on top of it all I was weirded out; the similarities between what had happened and "Grand Obsession" weren't shockingly close, but they were close enough to freak me out.

And that's why I ended up staying up and finishing the story that night. I couldn't sleep.

Incidentally, I didn't post about the dog on Wednesday or Thursday because I didn't want to bump "Grand Obsession" from the top of my journal; didn't want to do anything that might reduce the chance of getting some feedback.

Pathetic, huh?

Winter 2005: First Storm

This is not going to be a long entry, because who wants to hear me talk about the weather? Nobody.

Okay, I can't resist saying it - no, I'm going to resist. Self-depreciation can be funny (I hope), but I know I carry it way too far.

Anyway, the weathermen last night (Thursday) were warning of a high-energy winter storm on the way. It was going to hit around 6 AM, and dump a lot of snow on our region over the next eight hours or so.

Teri and I talked about it, talked about the possibility of me not going in to work on Friday. I suggested we wait and see; maybe my company would call a snow day.

No such luck. As we started out from the house, the snow was just starting to come down, thick and fast. Teri was worried, and so was I. She suggested to Sebastian that she might not take him to school, and he immediately burst out sobbing - big fat tears practically burst out of his eyes.

"I want to see my friends!" he sobbed.

Time was tight, but we made it to the train. The ride in was uneventful. When I got out at Ruggles, though, the company shuttle wasn't there. A bunch of fellow employees were standing around, freezing and getting caked in a remarkably thick layer of snow - I'm not kidding, it was half an inch thick at least. After a couple of minutes the shuttle pulled in and we clambered aboard.

The roads were getting bad, so the trip took a slightly longer than usual. When we pulled up to the building, though, the van door wouldn't open. The driver tried and tried, but it was absolutely stuck. It couldn't have been frozen shut; it wasn't that cold. But even though he tried the emergency handle over and over, and another driver came over and helped him pull on the door, it wouldn't budge at all.

So eventually they had us all go out through the driver's-side door. That required sitting behind the wheel, a tight fit while fully laden with bags (as most of us were), but eventually we all got out and headed into work.

I hoped that would be the most exciting part of the day. It wasn't.

( Read more... )

I'll go to sleep soon. But I am trying to decide what I want to write next. Don't know if I'll figure it out tonight, but it's definitely high on my list of priorities. Because there's no question in my mind that I'm happier when I have a story going. It gives me something to think about, something challenging.

Recently the thought occurred to me that if I assume that some (or all) of my stories have no chance for publication, that frees me to write things that I'd really enjoy, but wouldn't normally consider doing - for example, a new story using Poul Anderson and Gordon R. Dickson's Hokas. The idea hit me that it might be interesting to do a story about a serious Hoka - one with no real imagination, or no more imagination than a normal human. Might be amusing, though I'd need to work out an angle.

We'll see.

Winter 2005: First Storm

This is not going to be a long entry, because who wants to hear me talk about the weather? Nobody.

Okay, I can't resist saying it - no, I'm going to resist. Self-depreciation can be funny (I hope), but I know I carry it way too far.

Anyway, the weathermen last night (Thursday) were warning of a high-energy winter storm on the way. It was going to hit around 6 AM, and dump a lot of snow on our region over the next eight hours or so.

Teri and I talked about it, talked about the possibility of me not going in to work on Friday. I suggested we wait and see; maybe my company would call a snow day.

No such luck. As we started out from the house, the snow was just starting to come down, thick and fast. Teri was worried, and so was I. She suggested to Sebastian that she might not take him to school, and he immediately burst out sobbing - big fat tears practically burst out of his eyes.

"I want to see my friends!" he sobbed.

Time was tight, but we made it to the train. The ride in was uneventful. When I got out at Ruggles, though, the company shuttle wasn't there. A bunch of fellow employees were standing around, freezing and getting caked in a remarkably thick layer of snow - I'm not kidding, it was half an inch thick at least. After a couple of minutes the shuttle pulled in and we clambered aboard.

The roads were getting bad, so the trip took a slightly longer than usual. When we pulled up to the building, though, the van door wouldn't open. The driver tried and tried, but it was absolutely stuck. It couldn't have been frozen shut; it wasn't that cold. But even though he tried the emergency handle over and over, and another driver came over and helped him pull on the door, it wouldn't budge at all.

So eventually they had us all go out through the driver's-side door. That required sitting behind the wheel, a tight fit while fully laden with bags (as most of us were), but eventually we all got out and headed into work.

I hoped that would be the most exciting part of the day. It wasn't.

( Read more... )

I'll go to sleep soon. But I am trying to decide what I want to write next. Don't know if I'll figure it out tonight, but it's definitely high on my list of priorities. Because there's no question in my mind that I'm happier when I have a story going. It gives me something to think about, something challenging.

Recently the thought occurred to me that if I assume that some (or all) of my stories have no chance for publication, that frees me to write things that I'd really enjoy, but wouldn't normally consider doing - for example, a new story using Poul Anderson and Gordon R. Dickson's Hokas. The idea hit me that it might be interesting to do a story about a serious Hoka - one with no real imagination, or no more imagination than a normal human. Might be amusing, though I'd need to work out an angle.

We'll see.