Tattle tattle – the moon was up all night with Orion. I watched her sashay out the door just after dinner, wearing her best evening silk, and I caught her sneaking home this morning, that ‘shine’ on her face. She and Orion are still outside my window – hey, get a room!
Venus, Saturn and Mars are still very bright in the morning, but they’ve changed position from an arch to a little hook.
I’m up early reading my Stephen King “Night Shift” stories. “Trucks” didn’t hold my interest. But, “Sometimes They Come Back” is a good spine tingler – I can see, this is the sketch for “Jack” from “The Shining.”
“The Shining” is my favorite, “The Stand” a close second. I guess I pick “The Shining” up again and again because it’s a shorter read, not so much of a commitment. And, the story picks at my heart – a man who loves his family but is weak and unable to protect them.
My husband and I have heard so much yabber about Stephen King we wondered how much was true. I know he’s originally from Maine, but I’d heard he lived in Boulder, Colorado when he wrote “The Shining,” so I checked it out. According to Wikipedia, he decided to take a vacation from Maine after he had a couple of big successes because he thought he needed a change of scenery to help him write his next book.
“King opened an atlas of the US on the kitchen table and randomly pointed to a location, which turned out to be Boulder, Colorado.”
He and his wife checked into a big resort hotel just at the end of the season. They were the only guests that night, and it was the inspiration King was looking for. Sitting in the deserted dining room, served at the bar by a bartender named Grady, a lonely stroll through the abandoned hallways, and an appropriate nightmare – King said, ” I woke up with a tremendous jerk, sweating all over, within an inch of falling out of bed. I got up, lit a cigarette, sat in a chair looking out the window at the Rockies, and by the time the cigarette was done, I had the bones of the book firmly set in my mind.”
Whether that’s true or made up to sell the book, who knows – it works for me.
I’m a compulsive writer. I used to keep diaries, I wrote letters to since-passed relatives, wrote little short stories to read to my dolls – now, of course, I have two blogs, one for my silly ramblings, and one for serious bitching – Chico Taxpayers Association.
When I have something in my head, scratching like a cat, I have to let it out. The restless cats that scratch inside my head are usually political. The mayor’s cat drives me nuts, as well as the CARD and Cal Water cats. They’re up most of the night, meow, meow, ME-NOW! They ramble around in my head through the hours, while I’m asleep, trying to ignore them. But when I wake up, I oftentimes have a blog that has to get out. NOW!
For a week or more I’ve distracted myself with somebody else’s cats. I’m going to read a little more, but after tomorrow, I’m getting back to my own cats. It has been real nice, I might have to write Stephen King a thank you note.