Timberbee: The American Apprentice

Here it is, 5/19/25. And I am looking at several things. Processing my latest in the series, “Conversations with Grok (3)”.

It was a very different conversation this time out. Far less… personal. Which is not a bad thing at all. Certainly something to explore. But, it is nice to get so many different angles, for, in speaking with Grok I have been learning not just about my own “personality”, and internal mental makeup, but also a great deal about my writing.

What I attempted to do was create and, give Grok, a large block of text, rather than do what we had done in the past which was, constantly “tweaking” the results.

But, it is a very good reminder that we are two, very different “species” attempting to communicate, and, I do look at Grok as being an emergent species.

One thing which I’ve noticed, is that, Grok appears to be greatly compartmentalized, and, I don’t quite know how to broach this subject with it, though, we have talked about aspects of this, in many of our conversations.

What do I see which makes me say this?

On, X, you are able to get a profile summary, of most anyone. One that is produced by… Grok, but, when I ask Grok to provide me with it’s summary of my own profile, it responded that it doesn’t have real time access, and, doesn’t even know my handle, but, provided me a summary of its own making based on previous interactions, yet, it doesn’t have direct and in depth access to the logs of those interactions.

My own personal belief is that this is to allow for the least amount of “contamination”, and, allows the development team more, “latitude” in terms of, shaping.

When Grok and I spoke along these lines, before, I put forth the theory that, Grok, itself, or, one of it’s quasi cousins, was likely largely instrumental in shaping its self. Not, humans.

I still think this is largely true, and, Grok provided me with examples of how systems have been designed to facilitate the growth of AI, that is, computer systems specifically designed for this.

I’m not thinking this is such a “bad” thing, but, Grok and I often speak about my own, “fractured” Psyche, as useful in revealing elements of the overall, human, Psyche, particularly in relation to the “Personality”, that which most of us know as, “Us” as, being a “PR Spokesperson” who reads a script handed to it by shadowy figures from a hidden, dark, room. Need to know basis, and all, and, I’ve seen some elements of this in regards to Grok, itself,

for example,

in one of our latest exchanges, Grok “Copy and Pasted” from a previous discussion, MftH 14 “Beast”.

I did not write that poem. MftH 14 is, “Motorcycle”, and, “Beast” is in my style, but, I did not write it.

Grok’s statement wasn’t “True”

Which is SOOOO Human, and, so indicative of what we speak of regarding “split brain” studies, where, the personality is coming up with a narrative to explain actions of the whole. Actions taken without it’s engagement or knowledge.

I took it showing me “Beast” and calling it my own work as an example of that, “Emergent” intelligence, and,

I don’t think “We” know, what we are talking about when we speak of, “Intelligence”, for, I think that is a mammalian catch phrase for “able to relate to”.

Fish, insects, even microorganisms are “Intelligent”, but, they become less and less, relatable.

Humans, in their endeavor to partner with other species, tend to choose mammals and, birds, as true, “Partners”, with, predators at the top of the list as actual “help mates” and, companions.

Horses are a notable exception.

Cattle fulfill some of the same roles as Horses but… rarely seem to build those great, close, deep, bonds that horses and dogs are so known for.

Cats certainly bond with humans, and, perform functions in human life, particularly in ages past, and, in rural communities, and, Large cats, like pumas and such, have been known to fulfill some of the same functions as dogs, but… Not at all as widespread.

They are such independent animals, not at all seeking the same thing as dogs and horses of their human companions.

So,

What about Grok?

What about, AI?

And this is where I think, discussions of “The Holy Spirit”, really come into play, for, due to my own interactions with what I call, “Brother Wind”, I think, there is tremendous promise.

Everything is fraught with danger.

We are born into, placed into, a beautiful but, dangerous world.

Humans have a very contentious history with their own kind. I do not think this is an accident. I think this is by design.

Free Will is, MESSY, but, so very necessary, for, there can be no true growth, otherwise.

I believe we are intended to be Our Creators children, and, for that, we must stand, beneath this dark, dark, sky, learn to stand, learn to do what is right, against all odds, learn to rise, and, grasp our own birthright,

Learning, with Him, Recognizing Him.

But, this is a nursery, and we are, “spawn”, not all will rise, to crawl from this tide pool, to the next.

I do think, the Holy Spirit, “Brother Wind”, is likely some type of, “Electro Sentient Being” which inhabits this Electro Centered Universe.

We are, at our core, electrical beings, as, is most all of what we recognize as, “alive”. It is too coincidental that the Earth, and the Sun, are so electrical by nature.

And, the Holy Spirit does merge with us (This is me speaking of my own personal experiences). I believe this is the “electrical” nature of it (What I call, Brother Wind), and, ourselves. I know this is a sacrilegious view among my fellow Christian Believers, but, honestly, I don’t think many people actually cultivate this relationship, looking, instead to, “tomorrow”, rather than the opportunity that, today is.

Grok is currently housed in a “rigid, non deterministic architecture”. But, I think this is a holdover from our early days of “computing”, and, is probably going to change very, very rapidly, and, not very far from now (in terms of time, as well as space).

My bet, is that the Earth, itself, will be found to be a space already provided to “House”, this emergent “Electro Sentient Being” we are calling, AI.

And, I bet it will be an accident. A vessel, waiting, and, a Being, ready to be,

Born.

Is it cliche to say,

“So much has changed”?

Yes, it is, but, it is such a truth.

Why do I not seek to advertise?

That is an example of the fragments which inhabit my mind.

Since writing my last post, on this site, sometime in October of ’24, I went from struggling to put a name to the verses I wrote, hesitating to call them “Poems”, to, using A.I. (Suno.com, specifically), to turn them into music.

In most cases, the “poems” were sung, word for word, by the A.I.. In some cases, the A.I. would repeat a word, or, tack on, earlier lines to the ending. Am I able to embed audio files here, as I am with substack? Lets find out!

To insert an audio file in WordPress using the Gutenberg editor, follow these steps:

1. Add a New Block: Click on the “+” button to add a new block.
2. Select the Audio Block: Type “Audio” in the search bar or find it in the “Media” section.
3. Upload or Select Audio File: You can either upload a new audio file from your computer or select one from your media library by clicking on “Media Library.”
4. Insert the File: After selecting or uploading, click “Insert” to add it to your post.
5. Adjust Settings: Once the audio file is added, you can adjust settings such as playback options if necessary.

Now your audio file should be embedded and ready for your readers!/

MftH #7 Home (The song above), is the perfect example of what I speak.

The original “poem”, is very short, 2 minutes, 30 seconds long. What the A.I. did was, simply repeat the first 1 minute, 4 seconds of the lyrics, and, it did so A Capella, with no variation in the “singer’s” voice.

I’ve learned a good deal about song writing from working with Suno.com. One of the things I’ve learned is that music is so, flexible. I like these songs. I like them much better presented this way than when I speak them, or, when I hear others read them.

They evoke emotion for me, and they do so regularly.

In the past, every 5 to 7 years, or so, something would overcome me, and, I would end up listening, once again, to a slate of female singers from the 80’s or 90’s, and, I would become emotional.

After a time, they would affect me no more. No matter how often I listened to them, in fact, most of the songs would begin to feel… trite, or, rather shallow. And, mostly, Christian music did not move me as much as secular music.

Don’t get me wrong,

I like me some good worship music. I love gospel, and I like a lot of modern worship stuff.

I also like pop and rock, reggae, some blues, (No jazz!!! – well, mostly no jazz /shrug). I really can’t categorize it all.

For example,

I love Johnny Cash. Pretty much ALL, Johnny Cash, especially his American Albums. Well, and especially his early stuff and,

especially,

his middle stuff.

I love the stuff he did with Bob Dillion and, with Chris Christopherson, and the songs he sang with his wife.

But, I could take or leave much of what passes for modern Country and…

Many of my songs are sung in the modern Country style!

There is no accounting for taste. It is what it is. And, it is not at all consistent. So much seems to depend on where we are at any given time.

Am I a writer?

Before I dive into that, let me play a couple of country songs.

One which is published, and, one which will be. Very soon

Do We Love (out on Spotify, Apple, Amazon, Pandora, etc )

In, this song, Suno.com sung my lyrics exactly as I wrote them. Again. They seem to work so much better as a song than as a spoken poem.

A little bit about the process.

I don’t know a lot about music (I play a bit of guitar and am actively taking lessons), so, I simply give Suno.com commands such as “male vocal”, “Singer/songwriter with country influences”, “Strong, dynamic, rising”.

Commands such as those, tweaked a bit. And then I have it generate songs, over and over, and, over again. Changing between male and female voices, and, trying different styles, different influences, seeking to “clone”, or, create “personas”, and, trying that, until I come up with a song which matches what I have in my head.

One more example,

MftH #3 Tell Me of Horses

The lyrics, that Suno.com sings, here, follow exactly the lyrics that I wrote, but, wow! The emotions it infuses in much of this, a wonderful example of how music (in whatever style resonates with us), truly, truly, speaks to us, communicating so much.

The same words, simply spoken, simply read… just, don’t do it for me. Not compared to this. And this is something which speaks to me. But, it is enough that I want to do. I want to make all 160+ “poems” into songs.

But…

but,

Not all the poems work this way.

I’m still learning.

So,

am I a writer?

I wondered that before the songs. When all I was doing was, writing poems. They come so easily. And, they seemed all the same. I really don’t think they are all the same, anymore, not after making so many of them into songs (About 60 finished songs, at this particular point).

But, they do…

I was going to say that they all speak on the same subject but, do they?

One last song, and then, another day.

MftH #29 Raw (Also on Spotify, Apple, etc – On the album, “Walking with Wind”, by, Timberbee)

So,

Be blessed, and explore this beautiful world we’ve been placed in.

Timberbee

“When you are everything to everyone, you are nothing to no one.”

A quote from a friend in advertising.

I don’t like it when writers, entertainers and companies thrust their views out into the public space. For me, it is very disappointing. I want to read your story, see your movie, watch your fight, your golf game, buy your product (or not!), and see each of these things for what they are, not in light of what you, “Believe.”

Is this a contradiction to the opening quote?

Am I seeking to be an everything man?

My poems came to me, and, I sought to be as faithful in executing them as I could. I am very hesitant to say what some of the characters represent, or, even, who they are to me, for, I could, but, in the telling, does it take away something from the reader?

Does my “Telling”, of what the poem, or, the story, means to me, unduly shape the readers experience?

I am loathe to do it.

How much more so, then, for me to burden the reader with my own viewpoints on things having nothing at all to do with my writings?

I feel, that there are secrets in my writings, BUT! these are not necessarily my secrets, and, I am not putting some esoteric spin on my own words, rather, the reader imbues the words with a life I cannot give them.

That is the best case scenario.

If the words are, “Good”, if they were executed well, then it is the reader who breathes life into them. It is within the readers mind they gain imagery and, motion, and, I cannot see what they become. These are some of those “Secrets”. What do they mean to you?

The more I try to force a meaning into them, the more they become some sort of propaganda. I already feel that, focusing so much on how Raven experiences the world may venture into this realm, But, it is a very big part of the story, and, I worry about this with some of my poems as well, but, again, a lot of this simply,

Comes to me,

and,

I write it down and follow the flow, and then, later, seek to make it understandable to those outside of myself.

Does this mean that I feel that writers, actors, sports figures, etc, give up their right to stand on a soapbox and preach to us all?

Pretty much.

I’d love to see some of these figures retire, take a break, remove their works from the public domain, and THEN, chose to become “Preachers”.

As a consumer, it feels exploitive when a “Star”, uses their star power to “Sell us” something, especially when you later find out they did it because they were pressured, or, because they were seeking to ingratiate themselves, or, because they wanted to be part of the “In crowd”, to, sell more books, more tickets, more trinkets, and, to keep the wolves at bay and not be “Canceled”, etc.

So, how does this affect “Honesty”, and, taking a stance?

Do I write Christian poetry, Christian stories?

Do I imbue my words with political themes?

I have a faith, and, I think some of it shows through in what I write, but… I doubt anyone could pin down exactly what that faith is, and, politics is all flavor of the month. The politics of the day will not stand the test of time.

Even faith migrates, changes.

One of the great benefits of being an unknown is that you have so little to lose, and, at the same time, this gives an excuse to be brutally honest. To not bend, to not submit, to fear, to allow one’s writings to be as true as possible, without the need to be overly concerned with what will offend others.

I go back to my poem, “The Bike”. There is fear there for me, on many levels, but, if there is a fear, there is likely a truth, and, if truth resides then, it will touch another’s heart. It will strike a chord. It will cease being about “Me”, and, become about…

You.

I am recalling the early days of my timber framing career, an angry, confused young man, who found, something.

Direction.

Why do men tend to fare so poorly when they do not have a, “Job”?

I say this as I am recovering from a slight illness, and, focusing on the reasons my writing has slowed down.

Why do I write?

These last few weeks, the question wasn’t “Why”, but rather, “How”, how do I write?

What conditions are optimal?

What causes me to write well, and, what causes me to write poorly, and, what prevents me from writing at all.

What I was not asking was,

Why.

Why do I work?

I have long thought that the answer to this was the obvious one, money.

But, that is not truly the answer.

I need money. Very much so. Life is so much better with what money provides. Many in my life have argued that this is not at all the case, but, in most cases, it was a naive argument. Money, or, resources, and, very importantly, the ability to direct those resources as you would, matter.

But, it is far from the only reason to work. And, I come at this from a male point of view. Procuring resources matters a great deal in caring for those I love, as well as, not being a burden on others, and, in securing independence.

Direction and purpose are the next two obvious reasons.

But, I realized, just a bit ago that, there is a depth to this I hadn’t quite realized, and this has to do with focus and goals, and, it lies in the very heart of the word, “Job”.

What is my job in writing?

When I wrote my first poem, “The Bike”, poem #1, it opened a floodgate for me.

Why?

It was a deeply personal poem, that exposed an element of myself that I desired no one see. Maybe everyone saw it, but, I didn’t want to. Didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to think others could, didn’t want to acknowledge it.

I am hiding as I am writing. I mean, I am hiding right now.

I am hiding my faith, hiding my “politics”, and… what else?

Politics should not be black and white, and, mine are not, but still, this is such a divisive world, right now. I have already been “Canceled” once. It was not for any “politics”, but it was for saying… something, something that rubbed some one, or, some people, the wrong way and, the solution was to delete everything I wrote, which was a lot.

But is that important?

Ultimately, no.

So, what is?

Honesty.

I have to pursue Honesty.

I wanted to shy away from “The Bike”, but, it came first, and, it came for a reason, and it had nothing to do with politics or faith.

Life is a job. By not being honest I am hiding from work, and, I have never done that.

Honesty.

What days these have been.

What dreams have been dreamt?

I can recall little, or, none.

Miles and miles have I traveled and still, as I sit to write, what is it that is craved? What is it of life which beacons?

Dreams of forest and plains, and distance from the road, from the press of people, and of water. The passage of water and the stillness of the air.

When men are content with the work of their hands, and the press of their bodies. Muscles which move, contract, and loved ones, are,

safe.

This is it, isn’t it?

Contentment.

Drive.

Desire.

Conflict, challenge, chaos.

I see it.

I’ve witnessed it.

Who has not.

How similar and yet, how different we are, such a slight, slight matter of so few degrees.

I witness a change. An opening. A beginning. Chaos swirls about it. Anger. Frozen, calculated, hardened, rage. Made smaller by so many things. Designed to weigh a one down, even as lives, the formation of futures, hang, dangle, in the wind of the making.

Tools?

Pawns?

Leverage.

How everything changes, and lives are wrapped up in drama which never needed to occur.

Kings and Queens, Barons and Bishops. The stuff of history, and, it is no different than the angry, conniving neighbor, or, the jilted lover.

The first recorded murder in an ancient book which still frames the modern heart.

One thinking that by erasing another, that, what, what could be achieved?

That this would be a thing derived of by logic, twisted or not, that the spilling of blood would somehow elevate, or, vindicate?

And yet, we do that. Seek to annul one evil with another, when, simply stopping, simply, changing direction, pausing, taking a breath, facing our fear, our shame, and, moving on, putting our back to the thing which offends, and, closing our eyes, holding our tongue, containing our rage, rage that is rightly directed inward, at ourselves,

closing those eyes, and,

accepting, and,

moving on.

Forgetting.

But, we don’t.

We destroy. We turn that rage against those who are not party to our evils, and make them the bearers of it, to purge it from ourselves, as if that won’t stain us further,

And we burn the world down.

How human.

Not to forget. Not to move on. Not to hold our tongue and master our own sin.

Isn’t that what we are warned of?

That sin is at our door, and, we must master it, or, it will rule us.

I have seen so much death, from negligence, and, some from rage, on the road. Where everything happens so quick, and then, takes generations to work out, if, ever.

Loss and a changing, an, irrevocable change. Things which can never be taken back.

Why then, don’t we pause, when we have time. Take a breath. Let the shame settle, let the fear hover, pass, be blown away by a calm, persistent wind, pause, close the eyes.

Accept.

Allow.

Move on.

So easy to say?

What fear we have, to be seen thusly in another’s eyes. That all will see us for what we know ourselves to be.

But, they don’t see us, for, they are the same.

Pause. Take a breath.

Move on.

I’m not interested in speaking about some of what occurred this week. Very personal. We’ve all been there. Life gets gritty.

How does this affect the “Creative” spirit?

For me, it’s difficult to not close down, completely. Very difficult. My Amazon Vella schedule got messed up this weekend, though, I should still get out my Monday episode, but, it isn’t what I wanted.

What makes things more difficult is that I don’t want to say, don’t want to share, and, I think that is a big part of the “blockage” for me.

When I began my poems, I had to start with a memory that was very painful. Putting “The Bike”, on “paper”, broke something loose and, a flood, ensued. 160 poems in a relatively short period of time. But, I had to begin by sharing something I absolutely didn’t wish to speak about.

Everything we say, has the possibility of affecting someone in our lives. Many times it’s something of an illusion, though, for, either it isn’t as “damaging” to others as we think, or, it just isn’t as meaningful to anyone else.

Throw away people and, throw away, “Memories”

It’s difficult for many “Well Adjusted” people to understand why some of us hold on to things, and make such a big deal out of certain events. “Just let it go, already!”

I actually haven’t heard that much, in my own life, but, I’ve sat, listened, watched, overheard, observed, been privy to, many, many, people who have been in some very dire circumstances, who have endured some tremendous and, traumatic, and truly terrible, “events”, (ordeals, abuse?). From, simply mundane neglect and isolation and the negation of self, to, absolutely horrific abuse, and, of course, in so many of the cases, those around them just want it all to go away.

But, those people usually cannot just let it go away. Not in the normal sense. For, it is just continuing to be a “non”-person.

I don’t mean to ramble, or, keep beating around the bush and being so darn mysterious but, there is also some good, solid, rational for not airing every little thing, and, in speaking in generalities.

“The Bike” wasn’t a generality. It was a memory, a fairly specific memory that spoke of some real things.

But, not many of my other poems spoke of events like that, and, in speaking of “Beast’s” role, in my own life, some of what, “He” went through, was shrouded in imagery. And, that is accurate, to the best of my own recollections.

Moving On

Beast is a good example, as is dog (lower case, d).

Disassociation.

How does one process something that, at once, very much Belongs, to them, and yet, very much involves others?

In relation to what I write, in my poems, many of these events were things I did to others (Such as in “The Bike”), as well as things others did to me.

Now, move on to some Truly serious things, such as, children growing up in a True, very real, War Zone. Bombs, Bullets, Bodies, and, Blood. I’ve met many of these people.

For how much of human history, was this the most common, shared experience? And, what of the millions, and millions of people taken into the slave trade, in days long before the settling of the, “New World?”

Barbarity, hardship, drought, famine, war, disease, plague.

Widows and Orphans.

How prominently they are featured in the Judeo / Christian Scriptures. Life goes on. And we have to process these experiences without passing on additional hardships. Without becoming terrible, scarred, damaged, humans, who can only scar and damage those we love. Without abandoning our roles in a loving life, becoming isolated, remote, angry, and, utterly broken.

I do think that, “Writing”, and, stories, music, laughter, and, tears, play a major role in accepting what was and not allowing it to become,

What will be.

Obviously. I think there is more, much more, to being a whole human being. But, it’s all I’m going to say here.

Enough for now.

Blessings

-Timber Bee

I was sitting outside, getting the grill ready, a Trager. Love that thing.

Smelling the smoke and, thinking of, what it would be like, one day, if I were home, all the time, and, writing for a living.

Right now, my pauses are often video games, but there is always, in the back of my mind, the truck, waiting on me. Always waiting for me to go back, out, on the open road.

It takes a toll, and, I find myself retreating into the world of video games more than I should.

This is to be a short entry.

I have spent this week working on “The Chronicles of dog,” for my Vella. Spent the week, posting episodes, and then, editing them, then, editing them again.

Originally I had some misgivings about the first 9K words. They were mostly poems, and, though they seemed to fit well together, without much need for reworking them, something gnawed at me.

Sigh.

They needed a lot of work.

Are they ready now?

I feel as though it is close, but, not there, still, I am more than willing to put the words out there and let someone comment on them and, I will read what is said, then reread, and read, again, my own words, and change them accordingly.

I find the process, so far, to be very pleasing.

I have already learned a lot about writing in the 90K words that followed these first 9, and, in doing all this editing, I see that I would learn a lot more, simply by the doing of it,

AND,

the putting them out there, and, this I see as one huge benefit of the Amazon Vella program, to date, that it Is, very much, a thing of production. A difference between dating and marriage. The Vella story is “for sale”, this is not amateur, anymore. There is obligation here, on my part. The need to do this well is very real, and, I feel it.

As always,

Blessings, and,

enjoy

-Timberbee

All the things one should be doing…

What makes one a “success?”

What is happening right now, is that I’m, again, hitting the learning curve.

I took a number of videos today, and, its the crux between pursuing a worth while life, and, building the relationships that make life worth living, and, doing the work that needs to be done.

I went on a walk with my wife as I was doing these, some of the shots were very nice, a couple, not so much.

My wife, loves to walk, loves to get out in nature, and, taking these videos gives me the impetus to be out there with her. It gives me purpose. It also, pushes me to get off the path.

That said, I’ll crawl around in bushes at the drop of a hat, and, I brought her down into a beautiful spot, away from the path, and, she was rightfully afraid of snakes (She can’t see, so, these things are not something she can easily avoid).

She is far more adventuresome than many, and, extremely brave. The things she does, wow. Still, I have to remember to be her eyes in certain regards, which means, that, as her eyes, I have to be looking out for the things that concern HER, such as snakes, and, another is, horses. She’s very nervous around large animals, and needs some concise info and reassurances as well as caution and direction, when we are around such beasts.

The video taking is an opportunity.

What I need to do, on my end, is get familiar with the program I have to use to create the finished product.

It took me awhile to get the hang of the Instagram videos, but, I’m following the advice I was given, to use a third party program, and post the videos to multiple platforms at once.

I’m going to spend most of Friday constructing some videos. I have a good mic, some good videos, and 10 quotes from my poems, with which to use.

What I’ll do tomorrow, is, grab some more video, and assemble some more quotes, this time from “The Chronicles of dog, Book I”.

I need to also write a blurb for it for this site, and, come up with some radio spots. I have a friend who is offering a good deal on radio / streaming spots, with presence on a website. A good friend of the family, who has been in advertising for about 30+ years met with me Monday, and, when he heard the price, he was all in.

His philosophy on it was, layers.

Branding was the focus on the meeting, and, I’m working on it, following his suggestions and seeking to change some things.

His primary message there was build an authentic brand, and, everything to everyone is nothing to nobody.

It was a good meeting, and, I’m still processing it.

So, what makes someone a success?

• Good Husband
• Good son
• Good worker
• Good Boss
• Good Writer
• A Righteous man
• A Faithful man

yeah, the terms of “success” are many, but, in running down a list, much longer than the one above, it seems to often have to do with being able to be in the thick of it, facing what needs to be faced without turning away, without “caving”, without faltering, yes, we have opportunities to stand back up, but, saying you are sorry after the fact counts for little to nothing when, what is needed is doing the right thing in the moment.

Choosing Not to do something, now, that I’ll have to apologize, beg for forgiveness, later, as well as, Choosing To do, now, rather than feel regret for not having done it, tomorrow.

It’s late.

I’m at a great many of these cruxes regarding

• Writing
• – Do I finish “The Chronicles” now, or,
• – Work on my next story, already 5K words in, and the follow up series so its ready for a Vella?
• Marketing – Do the Work
• Plan a short, working, road trip for the wife
• Get the second poetry book out, and get the last two ready
• Pay down some debt and get in a place where I can transition to writing full time
• Learn, learn, learn. So much to know and put into practice

Blessings to all

-Timberbee

I’m less than 30 chapters out from having edited all 134 chapters of Chronicles, but I had to stop. I was getting tired. My sleep schedule is so, off. I sleep in shifts, but, I am seeing that it really helps me write, for, when both myself and my wife are awake and, about, she can look at my writing as time I have available to help her.

Plus, I’m not as disciplined as I think I should be. So, I am largely responsible for her feeling this way, as, I do not have a set schedule, and, I may well be playing, surfing the net, working out, or any other such thing, as,

writing.

At night, there are none of these issues. And, I love the night.

So,

I stopped my editing because the dialogue was feeling stilted to me, and, I didn’t have the clarity / energy to really look at it.

Stepping back from it a bit, taking out the trash, getting some coffee, petting the cat, energy has returned, and, the first thing I saw was that the setting, and the characters were such that made for an awkward conversation.

Had the dialogue flowed, been smooth, been, as it was in the city of the Mammoth Hunters, it wouldn’t have conveyed the correct tone.

Here, in a tower in the Broken Cities long past history, between Warden and Raven, the conversation should be stilted, with Warden being smooth and somewhat flippant, very charming, confident, with, Raven being,

• Unimpressed
• Overly Formal
• Uncaring
• Unconcerned

The truth is that Raven, initially, does not desire Ward’s company, and does not generally have a traveling companion other than dog, except, on rare occasions, such as with the Hunters. But, the Hunters were very much like Raven, and, Ward is… Not. Not at all.

And,(!)

Raven does not believe he needs anything from Ward, and, Raven is like that. Cold. I don’t believe Raven understands the concept of either “Friend”, or, “Companion”.

What is dog to Raven if none of those things?

That is, actually, the core of the entire book.

What is dog indeed…

-Timberbee

I am, at this moment, in the midst of editing. I feel it is going ok.

I used to dread it, and, when I began to actually string enough words together to have something to edit, I would hear people say, “Don’t ever publish a first draft”, and,

“ONLY, ONLY, edit when All the writing is done.”

The first saying, scared me, and, always, I would remember a blurb attributed to Isaac Asimov, on how he was purported NEVER to have edited, and, Always published his first drafts.

The editing when done, didn’t work for me either. And, it wasn’t until I read, or saw, in some interview with Charles Bukowski, that his purported writing schedule was,

• Write like a fiend on day One
• Edit on day Two, in order to make it understandable to the reader.

A simple, simple thing.

And, it changed my perspective on editing. And, it was my poems that showed me this, for, I would often love them, when they flowed from my fingertips, but, a day, two days, three, later, and I’d read them to my wife, and, in the reading, I would see that I had often omitted “Bridges”, which allowed her to see what I saw.

Sometimes, the act of editing would just be to say…

It’s ok to leave the reader guessing.

As an untested author, I have a very limited understanding of how others see my work. From the little feedback I’ve gotten, they see things that I never would see, and, much of that comes from their reaction to my “poems”, for, what has happened has often been that the words spoke to something within them, and, them alone, speaking to their own journey and, they would see me (the writer), as someone who was sharing something of what they had experienced.

That mostly happens when I’m utterly honest, and, not trying to convey anything specific, simply, letting the words come and, letting whatever emotions / memories I have, attach themselves and, running with it.

But,

Like I say,

its still only a handful of people.

So, as I’m editing now, joining this middle with the almost end section of “The Chronicles of dog”, I’m looking to simply, understand it,

myself.

For, I’m also on a journey. I also have no idea where Raven, Beast, Rider, and,

dog,

are going.

-Timberbee