dailyprompt

Dream. Home.

Sam Falco
Daily writing prompt
Write about your dream home.
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I live in a 1920’s-era Spanish Revival style home with three bedrooms and two baths. It is roomy enough for two people with no children, and yet I often dream that it is larger than it is.

I’ve had this thematically recurring dream for decades. I find a door, a stairway, or a ladder that leads to a space several times as large as I have. Sometimes, the new space surprises me. The first time I remember the dream was when I was in grad school, living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment. I found an iron, spiral staircase leading up and discovered it led to a glass-walled arboretum filled with exotic, tropical plants. Since then, I’ve dreamed of cavernous basements, rooms that I vaguely remember having closed off years before, and whole new wings of the house I live in now. Sometimes, I even remember within the dream that I’ve had dreams like this before. Of course, in keeping with the way dreams work, I never realize that I’m also dreaming now.

When Sweetie and I began getting rid of clutter last year, we were both stunned at how much more space we had than we realized in the basement and the cedar closet in the hall. I said it seemed like one of my dreams and she said, “But this is real.” And I said, “That’s exactly what you would say if I were dreaming.” Then she poked me in the ribs, we started giggling, and I didn’t wake up, so it must have been real.

But when I do have these dreams, what’s going on? I once read an article about researchers who believed they had proved rats dream and, in their dreams, plan how to get food. Maybe dreams are a way of mentally rehearsing our lives and my subconscious occasionally reminds me to look for opportunities and options I have forgotten I have.

The cluttered mind

Sam Falco1 Comment
Bloganuary writing prompt
Where can you reduce clutter in your life?
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Before I address this prompt, I have to have a cantankerous old man moment: “Bloganuary” is a terrible, ugly portmanteau which we did not need. Ugh. It’s like trying to make “fetch” happen.

And now, we return to our regularly scheduled program.

Reducing clutter has been on my mind a lot lately. In November, I wrote about how Sweetie and I are digging out from two decades of accumulated belongings. We’ve tried and discarded a lot of hobbies, together and separately, but we never got rid of the stuff. It’s difficult to let go of the thought that we might get back to it, or to acknowledge that we aren’t going to get our money back by selling it. We’ve made progress, yet we still have a long way to go.

Clutter is not limited to things. Clutter can also be mental debris. Similar to the way our closets can be filled with belongings that are no longer wanted or useful, our minds can be cluttered with thoughts and behavior patterns that are no longer helpful–or never were. Hiding your feelings might have been an adaptive habit when you were a child, for example, but it sabotages your adult relationships. Some people learn not to trust their skills, or devalue them, and it keeps them from doing things they want to do.

Tasks are another form of mental clutter. We’re all busy. There are so many things to do, and the list never seems to get shorter, does it? Little tasks that will “only take a few minutes” multiply like tribbles, and “a few minutes” can wipe out an entire afternoon. We lack the time to think. We lack the time to focus. This is where I most need to reduce clutter in my life. I add tasks to the list without thinking about whether they are really worth doing, or asking if I am the one who ought to do them. I try to do everything.

When I was told my job would be eliminated, I thought at first that at least I would “get things done.” I deluded myself that what I needed was time. No longer tied to my desk, I would become a dynamo of accomplishment. To a degree, that was true. I did get a lot done. But I forgot that there would be other “to dos” and I found myself just as overwhelmed as before.

I have been working on cutting down that clutter. I started by switching to a paper calendar and managing my time. Something about writing tasks on paper helps me be more realistic about how much time they’ll take. With a context-free list of reminders on my phone, it’s easy to underestimate how big a task is. Or to flat-out lie to myself. “I know that’s an hour, but I’ll just have to do it in fifteen minutes.” I’m not joking there–I have literally told myself that, countless times. For whatever reason, blocking time on a paper planner forces me to be more honest about what I can do.

It also makes it easier for me to evaluate my capacity. How much time can I spend? When I see appointments, it forces me to reckon with how much time I’ll need to travel to and from them. Or if they are online, to allow time to clear my head before and after them.

With an honest view of how much time I have, I make better choices about how I want to spend it. Instead of trying to churn through as many tasks as I can in as little time as I can, I’m evaluating what is really important to do. I also reserve time for focus and defend against the intrusion of “just a few minutes” tasks that have nothing to do with what I’m focusing on.

Cutting down on that mental clutter isn’t easy, but doing it reduces stress and increases satisfaction. I’ll continue eliminating physical things I no longer need, but the most important clutter I can reduce is the need to feel constantly busy.

Appreciating Now

Sam Falco
Daily writing prompt
What skills or lessons have you learned recently?
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Lesson learned

Not quite a couple of weeks ago, I recognized that I needed to slow my pace on my novel. As soon as I did, I rediscovered how much I enjoy the creative act. How easily the words can flow when I don’t force them to come.

That first day, without the frenzied desire to churn out 1,800 words, I spent an hour in discovery. I wrote about each major character’s current knowledge and goals. That suggested the next scene. I turned to the manuscript and seven hundred plus words emerged in what felt like the space between inhale and exhale. It has been like that every day, except once when I stopped at six hundred words because I’d finished the chapter and didn’t want to start the next scene yet.

Each day after I stopped, I felt content that I’d written well. Satisfied by the experience. Proud of myself. That hadn’t been true in a couple of weeks. I’d been pushing myself relentlessly, my eyes on the goal with no concern for the means. That’s the way I’ve operated most of my life.

Last Friday, the son of a friend graduated from college. He was so excited about his accomplishment. He worked hard and now he’s enjoying the praise of his parents and extended family. He’s excited for the future but he’s enjoying this moment. Kudos to him.

I never did. After I dropped out of University of South Florida, I returned to school via community college. I barely acknowledged my AA degree. I was ashamed that I’d taken the detour. Once I returned to USF, I was on a mission: finish a bachelor’s degree as fast as I could. That’s how I came to major in History instead of English—I had three more credit hours in the former than the latter. The degree was a means to an end. I didn’t attend graduation. I didn’t even let my parents take me to dinner. I was twenty-five and still embarrassed that I was so far behind where I thought I should be. It was much the same for my MA. I attended that graduation, but only because my then-fiancée insisted I’d regret it if I didn’t. You’ll want to remember it, she said.

I remember nothing.

I was already looking forward, wondering what was next, and worrying that I was still behind in a race to a destination I couldn’t even name.

I’ve been running after nothing at all. I have been so allergic to the idea of nostalgia that I not only stopped looking at the past, but also stopped noticing the everyday now. I have turned hobbies into oppressive obligations in my monomaniacal quest for The Future.

As I congratulate my young friend on his accomplishment, I envy his ability to appreciate the Now. I’m grateful that I’m starting to learn how to do it for myself.

Name that toon

Sam Falco
Daily writing prompt
What’s your favorite cartoon?
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I like cartoons a lot. Animated or still image comic strips doesn’t matter; I love the art form. Like Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird, who can’t remember a time when she didn’t know how to read, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love cartoons. It’s hard to pick favorites because I can break this topic down in so many ways. Let’s do that, shall we?

Animated Short Cartoons

Chuck Jones is the G.O.A.T. of this category. Two of his Merrie Melodies cartoons can still make me laugh so hard I start wheezing: “Rabbit seasoning,” (Shoot him now! Shoot him now!) and “Robin Hood Daffy” (Yoicks! And away!) “Rabbit seasoning” wins it by a whisker for the line I use often: “Pronoun trouble!” Just thinking of it gives me the giggles.

Animated Series

In the category of episodic cartoon series, there is so much to like. The Amazon original, “Invincible,” based on the comic book of the same name, is very good. “Archer” would have been the hands-down winner if it had stopped after season two, but seasons three and after ran out of steam. “Star Trek: Below Decks” is often hilarious and always loaded with deep cut references to every series that has come before it, but it’s a little hit-and-miss for me. It seems like the show runners can’t decide if the show should be zany antics and self-parody or “real” stories with a humorous edge. It’s never bad, but it’s not always as good as it could be.

I could name many more, but I’ll stop and say that my favorite is “Venture Brothers,” if only because it riffs on so many other cartoons and comic books that I love.

Animated Movie

“Soul” made me cry. Uncontrollably. Granted, I was on like day seven of COVID isolation at the time and in a very deep funk over the recent loss of a pet. But still, the combination of a stunning score, a marvelous script, and spectacular performances by Jamie Foxx and Tina Fey make this film the leader.

Comic Book Miniseries/Graphic Novel

Long-running comic books series all have the same problem: that they run too long, and the quality waxes and wanes. When I still read comic books regularly, my favorite series changed depending on the creative team. Much of what I read when I was younger hasn’t stood the test of time.

But hey, this isn’t about what I don’t like but what I do like. So, let’s go with comic book miniseries/graphic novels. Watchmen is iconic for good reason, but it’s like Moby Dick. It’s a classic, but I don’t want to wade through something that dense more than once. Star Wars: Dark Empire deserves credit for its part in reviving interest in the entire Star Wars franchise–although given some of what has come since, maybe it deserves a share of condemnation, too.

The standout in this category for me is Kingdom Come by Mark Waid and Alex Ross. They took the most icon superheroes ever created, put them under the lens of two decades of deconstruction and reconstruction of superheroes, and came out with a story that honors both the original characters as well as the new sensibility that had begun to emerge around superheroes at the time. Plus, the art is gorgeous.

Comic Strip

AKA “the funny pages.” Adventure strips, talking animal, gag strips, I loved them all. I always read them last, as an antidote to the serious daily news. (I began reading the entire newspaper in third grade, because I was already a gigantic dork at nine years old.) My favorites as kid: Lee Falk’s “The Phantom,” and, of course, “Peanuts.”

Then came “The Far Side.” I get why Gary Larson stopped drawing the strip and I’m even happy he did, rather than churning out mediocrity for decades after he stopped being funny. But damn, I have never laughed so hard, so often, at a one-panel gag strip.

Linguistic Peeve

Sam Falco
Daily writing prompt
Name your top three pet peeves.
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How about one pet peeve, with three examples? I hate sloppy language in fiction.

In a book I recently read, a character in a hospital “snapped on a pair of latex gloves.” Not in 2023, he didn’t. They use nitrile gloves now. This is writing on autopilot–the human equivalent of chatGPT spitting out text based on probabilities. You’ve read “latex gloves” hundreds of times in earlier books and so your brain spits that out.

Then there’s “cordite.” You’ll see a sentence like this in a lot of crime fiction: “In the aftermath of the gun battle, the air was thick with the smell of cordite.” Not if the gun battle took place in the twenty-first century. Cordite ceased being used in ammunition for firearms after World War II. Modern firearms use smokeless powder, which has a different composition and odor. Modern writers who use this phrase are aping pulp writers from a century or so ago without thinking about what they’re writing.

My favorite bad example is when writers use the word “gunsel” to mean a hoodlum with a gun. The term is stolen from Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon, when Sam Spade uses it to describe another character. It’s a clever bit of wordplay by Hammett, who was fighting with his editor over the suggestive (for its time) language in the book. Hammett used the word hoping his editor would think it was a synonym for “gun slinger.” It worked, but the word was actually a synonym for “catamite.” And it’s obvious from the descriptions in the book that Wilmer is exactly that, as well as being a gun-toting hoodlum. Hammett was being precise with his language. Writers who borrow the word out of context are being sloppy.

Not a Philip Marlowe novel

Sam Falco
Daily writing prompt
What book are you reading right now?
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I saved this prompt when it appeared last week, thinking I’d write about The Goodbye Coast, a Philip Marlowe novel by Joe Ide. I finished it before I got around to this post and started IQ by the same author. Then I finished that, too. Now I’m on to The Traitor by Ava Glass. I read the first Emma Makepeace book, Alias Emma, last year. I enjoyed every page of it. I expect I’ll enjoy this one too. I read the first chapter over lunch, so that’s the answer to the prompt. But I haven’t read enough to say much about it.

Instead, I’ll talk about the two Joe Ide books.

The Goodbye Coast is billed as “A Philip Marlowe novel.” It is a Philip Marlowe novel in that the main character is named Philip Marlowe, but this Philip Marlowe is not Chandler’s Philip Marlowe, so it’s not a Philip Marlow novel in the sense that I expected it to be.

I was expecting something like Robert B. Parker’s Perchance to Dream–a continuation of Marlowe’s original character, set in the same era. Or another story in the vein of Lawrence Osborne’s Only to Sleep, set in 1988 with an elderly Marlowe. This novel is set in the twenty-first century. Although it takes place in Los Angeles/Hollywood and the main character’s demeanor is reminiscent of Chandler’s sleuth, it doesn’t have any other connection to Chandler’s character. It’s been a long time since I read Chandler, but I don’t remember Marlowe’s father ever appearing. Here, he does, as an alcoholic cop who’s on suspension from the police force.

It’s not bad novel. I didn’t like the character, but I never liked the original, either. But I couldn’t get past wondering: why is this a Philip Marlowe novel? Like… I kept expecting to find out that this was the original detective’s grandson or something. But no, that’s not the case. In fact, there must be a literary Philip Marlowe in his world, because he mentions Humphrey Bogart starring in The Big Sleep. The character could have been named anything else and it still would have been fine.

After that, I decided to try Ide’s series, about Isaiah Quintabe. I never like to start a series in the middle, so I picked up IQ first. There’s nothing to dislike about this one. Isaiah is a thoroughly sympathetic character who crosses the inductive brilliance of Sherlock Holmes with the savvy determination of Easy Rawlins. His “Watson,” a former criminal operator named Dodson, is also likeable and an excellent foil to IQ.

But to call Isaiah a Sherlockian figure doesn’t do him justice. Isaiah’s reasoning never feels contrived or based on conveniently knowing obscure, random facts. Isaiah looks, listens, notices–and then asks questions. He earns his answers, rather than solving problems because he happens to know the chemical makeup of the soil at an obscure location, or some other contrivance.

I’ve ordered the next book in the series. My only complaint is that the character and the series are new enough that there are fewer than half a dozen.

Photo 8 of 12: Good Intentions

Sam Falco
Daily writing prompt
What is your favorite place to go in your city?
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A full liquor bar. The bartender is at the center looking up to his left.
The bar at Good Intentions. This guy makes a hell of a drink.

I like many places in Saint Petersburg but Good Intentions stands out as the favorite. Goodie’s opened last year as an all-vegan, full-service restaurant and bar. It wasn’t the first vegan restaurant in the city, and there are other options throughout the county. They distinguished themselves with a rotating menu of fine cuisine, plus a full liquor bar with several signature cocktails. We go there often and it’s our first choice to take out-of-town guests, even those who aren’t vegan.

Goodie’s is more than great food and amazing drinks. (Try the “Frankie Goes to Dollywood;” you won’t regret this delightful mix of blue curaçao and rum.) It’s a very welcoming place. We’ve become very fond of all the staff, and they treat us as good friends–hugs are not uncommon when we come in.

Saturday brunches are always busy, and it looks like they’re doing well. I hope it stays around for a long time.

The friendliest month

Sam Falco
Daily writing prompt
What’s your favorite month of the year? Why?
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July and August ain’t it, kid. Not in Florida, where the heat and humidity make even the smallest task feel Sisyphean.

In September, I’m holding my breath waiting for the weather to break and then, once it does, doing all the yard work I couldn’t do for the previous two and a half months. In June we celebrate my wife’s birthday but then the rest of the money, I grit my teeth in anticipation of the arrival of brutal heat.

December is a month of “must” and “should.” Thanksgiving starts the season of obligation and makes November feel too short.

February? Don’t make me laugh. Blink and it’s gone, even in a leap year. Everything blooms in March and April. I’d enjoy the beauty but I’m too busy trying to breathe with all the allergens.

May is my birth month. I’m not a big birthday guy. It’s nice, and there’s nothing wrong with May, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t have any special feeling about it.

October is fun in Florida. By then, the weather is becoming consistently bearable. The temperature has leveled off and is gliding toward cool, dry days when I can be outside and be happy about it. And it ends with a holiday anyone can enjoy. I like it a lot.

January, though.

January weather in Florida is the best. Cold, for sure, but even the coldest days don’t have that grip of death on your lungs you get up north. Best of all, the season of obligation is behind you. No one expects anything of you in January. Maybe they ask what your resolutions are for the new year, but no one expects you to keep them. January is friendly wishes for your happiness. January is fist-bumps and high-fives. January is hugs and support.

You can take your fall foliage, your first breath of spring, your lazy days of summer. I’ll take January.

Get rid of the screens

Sam Falco
Daily writing prompt
How do you manage screen time for yourself?
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Almost two months ago, I put my iPad in a drawer to break a bad habit of frittering away my time. It was a good decision. That’s how I’ve had time to revitalize this blog. I’ve also completed projects around the house, written more fiction, and read more. I’m more productive, more creative, and happier.

Banishing the iPad didn’t end my addition to screen time, though. After a while, I realized I’d shifted some of my time-wasting to my phone. The difference was that now I was giving myself eyestrain doing it. I suppose that did decrease the raw amount of time I spent eyeballing a screen because I physically couldn’t do it as much.

Beyond the temptation to surf, the phone presents another challenge. It’s a distraction machine. Say I’m writing in my journal and I think of a household task I need to do soon. If the phone is within arm’s reach, I’ll stop writing to pick up the phone and check my calendar to see when I can squeeze it in. I’ll do that even if the decision doesn’t need to be made right then. I could note the idea, start the margin so I can find it again, and move on. But if the phone is right there, I’ve trained myself to reach for it.

I’ve taken to tossing the phone to the foot of my chaise to force me to pause. If I have to reach for it, usually remember that I’m distracting myself. I’ve also experimented with leaving it in another room so that I don’t hear alerts. What I’m getting is that I’ve realized that the best way to manage screen time is to take the screens away. I can use them when I need them, but without a specific purpose to achieve, I should keep them away from me.

Prisoners of yesterday

Sam Falco
Daily writing prompt
Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?
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I am interpreting this prompt to mean that you don’t have a chance to change anything. You will experience it over again, moment by moment. To experience a year from my past, I would have to give up a year of what’s left of my life. Slip into a coma and instead of experiencing the present, re-experience the past.

I can think of no form of nostalgia more horrifying.

Our culture has become obsessed with looking back. Nostalgia is at the heart of the rot affecting our political system. Nostalgia tells a lie that yesterday was better than it was. Nostalgia tells a lie that it was better than today. It tells a lie that our best days are behind us and that the best tomorrow we can hope for is a copy of yesterday.

Nostalgia is a prison that keeps us trapped in the past.

I would not sacrifice the future on the altar of days gone by.