My Work Partner

My work partner is my computer.

What a complicated character is the computer? Not an old character, most likely about 36 years old. Its development was a bit older so let's say about 42. So what does this character do for storytelling 1) writes, 2) records, 3) videotapes, 4) prints projects, 5) shares links, 6) shares messages, and 7) shares emails around the virtual expandable vast web. Beware of the bugs and don't get caught while surfing in a net, although fun, by observing what others have pinned to their nets as charms. Remember on a web one side is sticky; you can get stuck and held.  

AS IS Productions for BobbieTales,  Bobbie Kinkead

I have rituals to enter the ZONE of writing!

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My RITUAL for WRITING

Well, usually sitting in a chair outside in the fresh air watching the birds, which are the muses for my writing. These spirits squall, sing, dash about, rest in a tree, or quietly sit on a nest, maybe even watch me watching them. They could be shape-shifters, waiting.

 

I'm taken into their InBetween, my reality mixes with theirs - I find I'm flying, relaxed, cheerful, I'm ready.

So, in this feeling of the InBetween realms, gliding, swinging, sliding, singing, I head for my computer, turn it on, find the right blog or story/chapter on Scrivener and start writing.

If I need refreshing, I sat outside again. In the winter, I walk in the rain around my yard and wonder where the birds are. Usually, one or two appear. If there is a storm, I watch from my window, soon one flies by and looks at me, as if saying, "Write!"

My muses are always outside in their realm, cheering.

OOPS, well, there are the predators, the CROWS, who come in to eat and destroy the home of the JAYS, who eat and kill the smaller birds. Then the squirrels do their damage to my miniature MUSES.  And, hovering overhead can be an owl or hawk. I do hear this disturbance and horror. I am amazed the smaller birds, my muses, survive.

Then one smallest of a wee bird pecks on my window, I'm not sure what this symbolizes. The pecking happens when I'm busily typing. A camellia grows close to the window. The wee bird hops from branch to branch, pecking as a bird does on the leaves hunting for bugs.

Interview - Part 1 - 'FIRE, the Hunger'

FIRE, the Hunger

What made you decide to tell fire stories with the intriguing title ‘FIRE, the Hunger’?

When I was a child, I grew up in Colorado and loved the mountains. My Dad, cut timber up Highway 24 by Woodland Park, which at that time was not a city. My intrigue with Fire started then we kept it in the pit and burned our garbage and everything, tin cans, and shoes. Fire was very feared because it would burn the forests and take my dad’s job of cutting timber for buildings and making telephone poles.
When my Dad retired from that job because lumber was scarce in Colorado, we went camping every summer. I think every weekend. My Dad loved the outside so did my Mom; she was from the small farm in Limon, Colorado.
At camp, at night, my uncles made this big fire in a rock pit. They built the pit making sure no trees and no roots were near. They brought their wood or cut the dry wood for the trees. Cutting fire wood is not allowed today, too many fires burnt too many forests. 
We had a beautiful warm, actually hot, Fire at night with dancing sparks. When I looked into the air, the flames danced in the darkness. We were never allowed to start the fire or to feed it the wood. However, we could to roast hot dogs on long sticks and after wards melt or burn marshmallows.
 After the camp dinner, the men sat around the fire while the women cleaned up the dishes and put away the foods. Like a hunter's camp only in the summer with the kids and women could come. The men fed the fire and talked about their fishing adventures they had during the day. Now and then, they would drop into their hunting adventures. As the kids, we got to listen.
When the fire ate all the wood for that night, it was put out. Either smothered with dirt or drown with water on the glowing embers. The men killed Fire, so as not to have it escape into our camp or the forest. Sometimes the kids killed the fire.
Fire did burn if touched, always entrancing, magically, and ate all we gave and could turn into a monster taking what FIRE wanted eating everything in its path. As happened in our neighborhood about 20 years ago; 3,000 homes burnt. Now in North Bay in San Francisco where many friends and relations live. FIRE is a HORROR!
Children should know FIRE's charms and dangers.
FIRE, the Hunger

P'angu, the First Dragon, #AtoZ Challe...

Boundless - P'angu, the First Dragon

BOUNDLESS

Dragons Shape China

  
The first dragon, P'angu, is a traditional story in 'Dragons Shaped China', which is short, I mean scant, a simplified analogy of Chinese history - re-imaged, enhanced, and elaborated as any excellent storyteller does. This will be a Book, soon at Amazon and Smashwords.com.