Thinking is Good, but Don’t Think too Much it Can Make Your Thoughts Way too Much to Think About Thoughtfully

Does a “what if” ever enter your mind? How about a “I never thought about that before?” or maybe just an errant thought from nowhere begins to bounce around in your cranium causing you to pause or maybe even chuckle. Fortunately, this happens to me all the time, bringing about fodder to keep to myself or share with the world.

For instance, American author L. Frank Baum, creator of the amazing story, “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,” instilled in me a notion that was intriguing but useless to the story. Now why this came to mind I haven’t a clue, but I thought about the wicked witch of the west. We all know that Dorothy dissolved the old biddy with water. This led me down another road. If the wicked witch of the west couldn’t tolerate water, this would mean she’d never taken a bath. Can you imagine the odoriferous stench emanating from this smelly winch? I guess that would explain her green color and the reason she was so mean.

In my own writing, I feel sure I put a bit of myself into most characters. This tends to have a good and bad side. I find in my own life I try to avoid certain situations, but allow the same situation to abound within a character adding a “how could he be so reckless” to the story. I think what I’m trying to say is when it comes down to it there is no need to be stubborn on top of stupid. We’ve all heard the saying, “writing fiction is harder than writing non-fiction; fiction has to be believable.” Always remember there’s a fine line between believable fiction and “way out there,” and it’s hard enough to get read without being so high into the clouds where only the migrating geese might take a gander.

Seasons Are Seasonal Not to Say That Seasons Are Seasonable If Seasons Were Seasonable Then I Think Salt Would Be The Only Seasoning a Season Would Need to Be Seasoned With

Gazing out of my window, I felt an inkling to pause writing and share a few thoughts buzzing around in my cranium.

Once again, it’s that time of year. Yeah, you know the one I’m talking about. If you ask anyone, “What’s your favorite time of the year?” The majority will answer, “Fall.” Did you notice how I worked a bit of dialog into the first line of my blog?

It’s kinda my favorite time of year also. Now what I mean by “kinda” is that it’s not consistently on the top of my list of favorite seasons. “What is?” you ask.

Well now, let’s take a look at each season, one at a time.

Spring: The weather begins to warm, the tree buds will soon turn to leaves, flowers bloom, and the entire scene is full of beauty and new life. It is also the time of year my body produces an overwhelming amount of snot, itchy eyes, and an overall feeling that the green dust (oak pollen) will never leave and soon take over.

Summer: Hot and humid. . . . Nuff said.

Fall: Rivals Spring in beauty, with the leaves changing to glorious colors and all the insects (especially the biting ones) breathing their last. All these are great things indeed; however, my nemesis (ragweed) appears enticing my body to produce an overwhelming amount of snot for the second time during the year.

Winter: No heat, no humidity, no biting insects, no snot producing particles in the air. . . . “Get where I’m going with this?”. . . . Looky there, dialog again. No brag; just sayin’.

I guess what it boils down to is–I’m glad I live in an area that I’m able to experience all four seasons. The differences are what make each one unique. In truth, they’re just another gift from God’s creation that we are able to enjoy.

Rising Tide Prologue

The increasing sea level went undetected until 2015. By then there was nothing to do but watch it

rise. Not that any course was viable had the increase in temperature been detected earlier. Mankind came to the realization he had no control over the climate, for better or for worse. That alone was in God’s hands. Not to say global warming wasn’t real, but there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it and nothing anyone could do to stop it.

North America’s western coastline stabilized at the Sierra Nevadas. The Appalachian Mountain range became the new East Coast. Tributaries allowed water to infiltrate the country’s interior, turning the Mississippi River into a tidal basin and the Great Lakes into the Great Lake. The Sea of Cortez migrated over halfway up the Colorado River. This intrusion engulfed two-thirds of the area between the Sierra Nevada and Rocky

Mountain ranges forming Grand Canyon Bay. Worldwide the story was much the same. Cities built higher than

two thousand feet above pre-twenty-first-century sea level remained.

With the upward push of water, the atmosphere also welled up, warming the planet

and setting off a

chain reaction that would further reduce the polar caps. This caused the water level to rise, fueling the vicious cycle until the last remaining vestige of ice was reduced to liquid.

After nearly a decade of unrest and political upheaval, established governments and factions alike came to the identical conclusion. Survival depended upon unity. What remained of the human race had finally gotten it right.

The scientific community did a respectable job of collecting and processing the massive amount of pollution seeping from sunken cities, refineries, and tank farms. In time, the planet did what man could not and digested the remaining toxins.

Travel by road or rail was limited but still possible. A handful of usable airports remained, but with so many waterways, sea-going vessels became the most practical way to transport not only people, but goods and services as well.

While the all-consuming need for oil created countless problems for the former world order, a limited need for fossil fuel still remained.

One drilling platform remained, simply because it supplied all the crude the world needed. Enter the planet’s last oilrig, the Omega Z, dubbed “OZ” soon after its conception. Maintaining this aquatic city was a constant undertaking.

This daunting task fell to a select few.