I’ve had to change the title slightly in my novel “Wanderlust”. Originally I wanted to name it just as you see, but there was already a poem by that name so I had to alter it slightly. First, came “Wanderlust – Chapter 1”. But that sounded stupid when I added the following chapters. So I’ve now named it “Wanderlust!” (note the exclamation point).
Chapter 1 can be found on this link (clicking will open a new window/tab):
I am heartened to see that over 30 people have already viewed the first chapter. I hope more follow.
There are several more stories I am working on also. One of them is a ‘what if?’ story that moves into an alternate universe at a crucial point and the other is pure fantasy (humorous, I hope). Neither one of these will be ready for publication until I can flesh out some of the chapters a little more than a bare outline.
It seems strange, to me anyway, that I’ve suddenly discovered that I like to write at this time of my life. One story I’d really like to write would cover almost all the things I did while I was in the navy. Some stories, although true, would sound almost like fiction. Unfortunately, if I were to publish most of them it would bring federal authorities down on me pretty hard – even though the personal events have been long surpassed by world events. Suffice it to say that since the Soviet Union is no longer, writing about it could still land me in hot water. This is a shame, because there are a lot of stories out there just waiting for someone to tell them.
Writing is very therapeutic and surprisingly easy to do. All you really need is a good program, like Word, and a keyboard capable of taking a pounding. I say that because, in my case, I started typing way back in high school (1958 to be exact) on an Underwood manual with very stiff keys. You really had to mash them to get a good impression on the paper – especially when the ribbon began to get faint. From high school papers, I graduated to writing a lot of letters to friends as I grew up. making the transition to teletype keyboards in the navy was easy, except for having to shift between letters and numerals with a special key. On a teletype, the key travel was around an inch and if you didn’t press firmly the letter (or numeral) wouldn’t register and it would mess up your coded message.
So, when I type, one can probably hear me all over the house because of the clatter. In the last year, I have worn out four keyboards – one of which had the letters almost worn completely off the tops of the keys. I’ve found the Hewlett Packard keyboards tend to hold up the best; Microsoft keyboards will fail within three or four months. When I replace a keyboard, it always takes me a perceptible time to relate to a new layout, but soon I am flying along just fine. In timed contests in the navy, I was clocked at 175 words per minute while touch-typing coded groups of five letters. When I was taking Morse code, I can still handle around 35-40 words per minute using a typewriter The key is to lag behind two or three words behind the code so that you can do “burst typing” to catch up. It makes for much more accurate copy.
How in the world did I get on this subject? My mind tends to wander on a lazy Saturday morning (or any other morning for that matter). It is beautiful outside and the squirrels are gathering hungrily under new corncobs on the bungee cord. One enterprising guy (has to be a guy because he’s just showing off), loves to jump from the limb supporting the cob and land on it holding tightly as it bounces up and down. Once stopped, he calmly fills his cheeks with corn kernels and casually drops to the ground to run home with it. A different one will pull on the chain until he has it on the branch next to him. Far more effective, but not as much fun to watch. He’s probably an executive in squirreldom.
My observations of the doves still lead me to believe that they are the cattle of the bird world. They simply wander around under the feeder and peck at seeds that the more active birds kick down to them. Even when I leave the house, they just look up at me and stare as I pass. They are almost always a pair though. Their pleasant cooing is nice to hear after winter’s harsh crow calling. Although yesterday there was a huge crow perched in the front yard tree cawing mightily. It got so bad that Cami (our little cat) would bang her nose against the window in frustration trying to make it go away.
Time for a nice hot cup of tea.