Couple of Questions, WP?

How come when I post a teaser for a later, more comprehensive post, it’s not to be seen out in the published posts arena, but turns up in Draft? Wait, I think I published that teaser while on my mobile phone. Shouldn’t make any difference though, should it? The platform works seamlessly across different appliances?

And conversely, when I have a post sitting in Draft, it can collect Views and Likes? As though it’s been gamboling out in the public arena, and it is still only a haphazard collection of thoughts? While this is not the first time this has happened, it’s the first time that I’ve thought to follow the trail.

I thought Draft was the place where I could have things on hold, waiting for more info, more energy, more time and or everything else that I need to get a post happening? It’s the place where I save good topics, the possibility of long pieces, things I want to comment on, things that need editing. Not for public reading as yet.

This post was meant as a teaser: https://ritadeheer385131918.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=2698&action=edit&calypsoify=1

It apparently has lived in Draft for the past two days, but managed to collect 2 Views and 3 Likes. How, I want to know?

I’m wondering whether you have a bunch of learner-bots out.

A ‘Woe is me’ day …

Yes. Having one of those days when all plans are having to be thrown out of the window. I have a ‘lurgy’ in the slang of my day and my time.

I’m sitting up sleeping at 4 PM, absolutely the worst time for an hour’s worth of sleep that will probably be traded in tonight for an extra hour of wakeful coughing. A ten minute nanna-nap or even a five minute power-nap would’ve maybe saved the night.

I can barely speak, and cough at the slightest exertion and it’s been over a week already, I’m over it, though when has that ever worked?

Days have been lonely while I’ve stayed home to not spread this bug through the facility. But, anyway, as more sitting down activities were required, I started the project I hit on during one of these wakeful nights.

Had a lot of notes already thinking I should remember these people somehow. Dots on the phone directory. Names and a couple of words on the calendar. Four people from this floor. Many I met while we all travel in the elevator.

I’m calling it my META project … which stands for Meet Everybody, Talk about Anything. So far, I’ve lived here for 70 days and have met and talked with 17 fellow residents, when the last nine days I’ve been in isolation.

Another wet day outside

About Lodestar

About Lodestar Part IV
Lodestar, up to this point, was written from more or less one viewpoint per part.
This fourth installment is in effect a series of short installments (novellas, probably) where some of the main minor characters are sidelined and others drawn forward. One or two important characters are only just now being introduced.

The various people whom I asked to critique the series fifteen years ago, advised against introducing important new characters at this late stage. I thought it through at the time, but quailed at the work involved in the restructuring. Put The Lodestar series aside. Years passed while I worked on a new series. Different, I thought.

But my ‘unconscious’ a marvelous entity I am only now learning about, was well and truly in charge, and encouraged me to write multiple stories featuring a main character being invaded and controlled by a foreign influence.

I’m laughing now when I read those lines, knowing that I am absolutely ruled by my unconscious, as you are by yours whatever you may believe. Fifteen years ago, I wasn’t writing unknowingly about my own personal unconscious mind, but about an alien, about an invasive computer program, and about the implant.

Without me realizing, which is the part that still amazes me. Until I had three mostly polished novels, ready to be professionally edited. That’s when I realized. At the time I was poor and troubled, and could afford to have only one of them edited professionally. So I decided to forward the most recent work, which was ‘Mongrel’.

Five years ago my life fell apart as long-time readers will know, and after the chemo, when I set about picking up the pieces, I decided I was done with marketing. The stress of dealing with giant corporations was not doing me any good. I decided that life is too short to hanker after the pittance that I would earn for not writing in the mainstream.

That’s not to say I won’t publish them at all. They’d be a lot easier to read as novel lengths than a chapter at the time.

Fast forward to the idea of the ‘story-debt’. It really grabbed me, for after I labored over The Lodestar world for ten years, its characters and their lives stayed with me. It’s like they are real people somewhere out there. I wondered if by paying off my story-debt, by ‘publishing’ them here, on my blog, these characters would then stop haunting me?

t’s a work in progress. Below a snippet …

The Implant, 1
‘I can almost feel the textures of the nutrient jelly I rest in. I’ve imagined them so often it must be that I now feel them. The heat of my skin melts the material near me, making it silky and fluid. It’s firmer further out. A spider webbing of fibrous supports grows among and between my miniaturized cables.

Fresh nutrient mix is added to the bottom of my housing, its floor is gridded and sits on a saucer, the whole is very like the design for a bird-feeder I have somewhere in my memory banks, though the action of the nutrient mix is opposite to that in the bird-feeder.

I don’t like remembering that I don’t have a skin and that I still don’t have a body. It is not my imagination that I feel a frizzle of anger pass along my synapses. If I’d had a body to use, I would’ve been able to express myself more satisfactorily. Where is that minx Ahni? The speaker fitting is clogged and I cannot call out. I’m not happy with the level of carelessness in this place. Who is on duty? I shouldn’t have to worry about utilities. That was always the work of the host.’

    Azolla Water Fern

    Azolla water fern are one of my favorite plants. Theyfix oxygen and keep the water underneath fresh.

    Indtead I’ve got a great dying. I managed to keep them alive and thriving for 14 months, through moving house, twice changing water, mud, and water again. Now all dead and brown, I don’t know why.

    Too cold? Not enough light? Water poisoned somehow? Fish nibbling on the roots? Only two fish remain and they are carniverous. It’s a mystery.

    The chickweed are doing very well, thank you.

    Lego: Bosley’s Builders, 14

    14. The Stairs Go-to Crew

    Bosley studied the staircase Tim put together to get people to their accommodation after the complaints about the ready-made he conveniently installed at the end of the block right by his and Trish’s quarters, with no access by anyone else.

    He shook his head. Nice staircase but a heavy use of materials. And bulky. And not used now that that half of the crew were absent. Wendy and Jackie were at the hospital, Wendy at her midwifing. Dan was away somewhere salvaging. And Jed … Who knew if he’d even turn up again.

    Think we scared him off.  Not a happy young man. Just the six of us here, counting Nin Wiz who is a silent fella, Ruff who is not a noisy type either, Trish, Tim, Drew and me.

    He looked around. Drew stood on the hardware store’s front terrace, gesticulating. Hard at work discussing the hardware store’s fire-stair with Ms Bee and Ms Sander that looked like. All three engrossed in the discussion.

    Bosley listened for the rest of the crew. He heard Tim and Trish discussing the next stage on their cabin with a throw-away comment every so often at Nin. Sounded like they were all quite busy too.

    He chuckled at the offending staircase. So I’m safe disappearing this object of despair? Object despite that it couldn’t be shifted without breaking it down. Despair because of the heartache the building of it caused the builder. Disappear because it’s in the wrong place, takes up too much space and I need it gone. 

    With each thought he jimmied off a tread. Stacked them back in Tim’s container. Then he fetched a brick separator and levered off bricks starting from the top. The clattering of the blocks on the ground brought only Ruff.

    What idea haven’t I used yet to get a good stair go-to crew? Bosley ruminated. Well, I know we already have him, it’s just that he’s hiding his talents under a constant stream of denials. So. Idea?

    “Before we begin on the bunkhouse,” Bosley said next morning. “I’d like for us to put together a semi-permanent stair or ladder to get to the top of the walls. Who’s going to give that a go? Drew?”

    “Drew?” Drew said. “Drew gets to build the stairs?”

    “What?” Boz said in an injured tone. “I thought you said that way back. That you wouldn’t mind being the stair-go-to guy?”

    “I really really don’t remember that,” Drew said. “What about Tim?” he said at Tim, who just arrived at their little confab.

    “What about Tim?” Tim said.

    “Nope,” Bosley said. “Tim put his hand up for the freshwater supply.”

    Tim spluttered. Changed tack. “This is about stairs? I saw you pointing. Shouldn’t be too hard to install a ready-made since we already have the scramble stair. But …”

    “With Ruff the only user?” Bosley interrupted.

    They all looked at Ruff scrambling up the uneven bricks, plates and tiles rising to roof-level.

    “I don’t know how he doesn’t fall,” Drew said.

    “I think Nin helps him to not fall,” Tim said.

    “I want to see that, that ‘shouldn’t-be-too-hard’,” Drew said.

    “Fine,” Tim said. “I’ll do the ready-made, you do a …whatever. A thing with which we can with our best foot forward rise from a floor to the floor above.”

    “May the fastest man win the go-to-stairs moniker,” Bosley said. “The other one can be the freshwater supply guy.”

    Drew and Tim went away together to think through their options. “Because,” Drew said, “The water supply is at least as big, if not bigger, than a handful of stairs.”

    “Well, keep it under your hat,” Tim said. “But I’m better at walls and roofs than either of the other two.”

    Drew laughed. “Me? I’m better at numbers and figures.”

    Tim laughed too. “So let’s stay friendly. We’ll work at night. Keep the rest in the dark. I help you, you help me. Nin Wiz will help us both. Let’s do a kind of scramble-stair up to the half-floor …”

    “With a brown three-rung ladder to the bunk house?” Drew said. “That way we’ll save the yellow ladder for us mortals to get up to Nin Wiz’s abode.”

    “Nice,” Tim said. “Let’s now go locate the components without remarking on them and then knock off for the day.” He chortled. “Should keep everybody guessing.”

    “See you at midnight?” Drew said.

    “Make that 3 AM, when everybody is in their deepest sleep, and I’ll see you here.”

    They separated, prowled around and fixed the different components on their internal maps. Met at 3 AM. Worked. Installed the stairs with Nin’s help.

    Drew’s stair to the half floor.

    Tim, caught by daylight, and needing all kinds of help.

    Bosley studied the ready-made stair on its pedestal with him. “Why?” he said.

    “The windows?” Tim said. “Umm.”

    “Why the pedestal?” Bosley said. “And how do we get up onto the bottom step?”

    “Mmm, I don’t know yet,” Tim said. “I was thinking that we’d need stairs something like this to get to our cabin, which will probably end up being on the same level as bunkhouse and so …”

    “Tim, relax,” Bosley said. “I fully expect Drew to solve that problem. He’s probably already puzzling on it. I need you to start thinking about the freshwater supply.”

    “We’ll need to get the power on first,” Tim said.

    Gone to Feed the Fish

    The unfortunate vertical ripples, which barely show when I’m looking at it with only my specs between my eyes and the painting, are due to a paper working well above its pay-grade.

    I’m trying to finish my stock of less than ideal ‘parchments’ before I acquire more.

    You’re right if you think that this painting seems pretty well unintelligible seen from a distance. Zooming-in helps. It’s always surprising when and what meanings can be wrung from a few splotches, and unplanned application of color, and a few well-chosen words.

    ‘First things first | A Working Library’

    Every so often at breakfast time I jump through a rabbit hole that presents itself as an independent blog post, and see what I can see down there.

    This morning, since I was late anyway, and since my computer fell corner-wise on my right foot little toe yesterday and I can walk only painfully, I thought I might as well.

    Because it is at breakfast time that I normally check my emails, BOMs opinion on the weather for the day, and a few other things depending on how long each thing takes. One hour is it, including breakfast.

    Looks like I’m only allowed three paragraphs for this post, and I’m typing this completely in the dark … maybe I better move it to my laptop … that didn’t happen and lost my train of thought in the meantime. So this is it for the meantime.

    is impossible to write an effective first post on a blog.
    — Read on aworkinglibrary.com/writing/first-things-first