I spend part of each day wandering, lost in my thoughts while I traipse atop a grand ridge. Sometimes in the cool of the morning mist or later in the sun-drenched heat of afternoon, but my favorite time to walk is when I catch the last burst before a dusky black lays upon the final moments of the day. There have been rattle snakes, coyotes, roadrunners and quail, even a bob cat, with multiple colonies of bunnies and an abundance of ground squirrels all passing along the foot path, but as I often stroll alone, I enjoy the company. Wandering is a common blog topic for me as I suppose like many writers I find the pedestrian occupation goes hand in hand with sorting out troublesome characters or plot lines or next moves.

Since last Fall I have been embroiled in writing a different style of story. At least different for me. Of course flipping into a dystopian sci-fi futuristic redemption novel after the nightmare of November’s Presidential election felt like a straight line. After all, under the chaotic incompetence of the MAGA cult dismantling law and order where else could one’s imagination run? I see it as the only trajectory, for what good will they accomplish as they bow and scrape beneath their gilded felon bent on revenge? Of course, real-life villains aside, in my novel a savior will arise from the ash from the flood from the forgotten and most certainly from social media, to provoke a change back to civility to cooperation to solutions to standards that may or may not influence fashion. Yes, his outfits are just as outlandish and outrageous and fabulous as you might hope for. Although many members of this imagined entourage populating my page are powerful women with mystical powers, my sometimes silly metrosexual hero just might be The One to right the ills we are powerless to correct today, and therefore will grow to such an extreme that they will not only become this crazy dystopian sci-fi futuristic redemption novel of mine but our future.

In this half-written manuscript of mine there are several female characters whose mystical and superhuman powers are epic and odd and playful, and without them buoying The One, his redemption storyline would not be possible. As I walk on, one foot in front of the next, I search along the skyline for their voices their passions their very form to shape the sentences on my screen and in this way I find a gentle reminder of joy and hope.

There is always far more wandering needed to formulate a novel than time at my desk. I know this is the how many sort out whatever it is they are trying to work out from within.

This is all to say, July has been wonderful, filled with a string of tiny little joys, many of them coming directly from my imagination.