Tag: books

I Don’t Know, and That’s Okay

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What is your career plan?
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Right now, I’m in a group for people with mental health issues and am trying to recover from a years-long friendship in which I was slowly isolated from everyone else. Or, as I told her, “what you failed to take in is that I did not marry you. I married the government.” My wife was first on the list of casualties during this “affair,” because this woman does not know what kind of effect she has one people. She’s already her. But none of what I’m saying should be interpreted as negative, because I don’t have any choice but to forgive myself for the mistakes I made. I am sure that she is doing the same, far and away from me. No one walked away with clean hands except for my ex-wife… or she would have had she not hit me. Hitting me was the apex of her frustration, and I was smart enough to only let it happen once…. This is not to say that the hot water we were in had not been heating for quite some time.

Aada told me she’d never betray me, but her betrayal was letting me in on things she shouldn’t and expecting me to carry it like she did. I will never do anything like she does if I can help it. I walked away having told her that every conversation was like being signed up to be hit with a baseball bat and for the love of God, see a psychiatrist. Her general distrust of doctors in general left me on high alert, all the time. That’s because she didn’t get kick the dog syndrome at work or with her family, but it had to go somewhere.

I’m also not chiding her, because I think we were both guilty of doing it to each other. Our little bubble was far and away from the rest of our lives, so we both tended to take out our frustrations on the one we “didn’t know.” We were pen pals for 12 years. “Didn’t know” is a stretch. She’s the only person that spans and bridges Portland to Baltimore, my constant companion in a world of change. Through the way the Internet works, it felt like she was closer than the beat of my heart…. with which she took issue.

That’s because I talk a lot when I don’t have to speak.

It would seem to her like I acted like a victim in all this if I didn’t say that I was so crazy about her that it led to some pretty serious sexual harassment, for which I spent a number of years apologizing and she spent a number of years learning to trust afterwards. I don’t know what she thought, but for me the Internet is not real life. I was lost in Fantasyland and creating my own reality based on the manipulations someone else handed me when I was a child.

I learned from it and promised to do better, proud of myself that I accomplished that goal. And in fact, the only thing she’s ever done that really hurt was returning a present I sent to her house, because I was trying to show good faith. It was a six-pack of glass Coke bottles during the “Share a Coke with…” campaign the first time around that had her real name on it, plus the nickname she gave her husband, and the names of her kids and her dog as well. The reason that this is important is that Aada is a Finnish name. There is nowhere in the US you could have purchased that Coke bottle at random. It was at a time when I really didn’t have money for presents, and I was heartbroken. I cried big alligator tears that basically centered around ruining everything I touch.

My rejection sensitivity dysphoria didn’t pick up that she didn’t want me in her real life. She only wanted me in this liminal space between waking and dreaming. I could have dealt with it if she’d been truthful, but she danced around the topic for years, giving me no clear answer. My one regret is that I didn’t pin her to one. Because the truth is that she didn’t want to meet me at the spy museum, because she’d lied about knowing Jonna & Tony Mendez… not that she was opposed to neutral turf and good kahvi.

But I took “I don’t want to go to the spy museum with you” as “you are a worm for even asking if I wanted to do anything with you.” Rejection after rejection built up, because I didn’t want to overstep boundaries and I also didn’t want to treat her as a weird Internet apparition, either. It never occurred to me that in fact, “internet apparition” was the job in my life she wanted. She’s not wrong for that. I’m not wrong for wanting her to be real with me. It just sucks.

I chose to be a jackass, but that wasn’t the sum total of me. I could tell how far we’d come when she did agree to meet me once and she said, “it can’t possibly be as good as your imagination.” I blushed so hard I thought my face was going to fall off. That just won’t happen now because I betrayed her and thought I hadn’t. I am certain that she is ready to be done with me; that is okay. It’s not her journey now. It is entirely mine. If she sees my point of view, she’s welcome to be in my life. If she doesn’t, she’s welcome never to contact me again. I accept that the way we work is in Newtonian precision. There is a cause for every effect, both spoken and not.

Mostly now what I miss is the idea of her. The idea of being close to her and her husband because I was never trying to isolate her from him. I wanted us to have mutual friends because there was no safety net for either one of us. She couldn’t call Bryn, I couldn’t call (other) Michael. We had a skewed view of what the other did for a living, because my writing wasn’t valuable to her once she was in it. I think she’s my favorite character because my words don’t flow as easily when I’m not thinking about her. I am branching out to be more inclusive, but no one gives you more heat, passion, and drive for writing than someone reading you who’s actually a better writer than you are.

You’d know it if she’d let her e-mail to me stand, but she didn’t. She loved reading The War Daniel’s takedown, though. What she wanted was to be special in a way other people aren’t, in a way that didn’t seem genuine to who I am. She flamed me just as hard as he did. The situation was not different except that I should have edited out something I left in, and choked when I realized what I’d done. I wasn’t alone, though. Michael said that I hadn’t done any damage, but let’s take it down just to ensure she’s safe.

While I was deleting the entry, I got an e-mail from Aada that she forwarded me saying that I’d broken Medium’s laws on publishing people’s words without their consent, a thinly veiled threat that if I left it up she’d sue me. My attitude at the time was “bring it.” I didn’t publish your words to hurt you and I took them down before I even got this shitty e-mail. It sucked because she said she blocked me. I reacted like I’d been hit by a two by four and spent the night crying……… and less than 12 hours later, I got an e-mail from her. Just seeing her name in my inbox made me nauseous. It has for years because I never know what kind of e-mail it’s going to be. She says the same about me, I’m sure.

She did not understand neurodivergence and attributed a lot to me that wasn’t there. Once I started unmasking and tapping into the ancient wisdom of the autists about pattern recognition, I saw autism everywhere and realized I’d been reading her wrong. That she may not be autistic, but there’s some kind of neurodivergence going on in there. You don’t have to be born with neurodivergence, PTSD will give it to you….. free. No one chooses autism and PTSD as a special interest like someone who is trying to figure out if they have it or not, so telling her that I’d been reading her wrong came across as rude.

As a result, I cannot base my career on Aada not liking what I have to say, but I can’t not think that way, either. Our stories are inextricably interrelated because our story together is one of pain, and then triumph. My blog entries are going to be collated into a book, and she’s the star of most of them. But she’s not a hero because she decided to go save the whole world at once. She’s my hero, which is much quieter and comes with a lot less adoration, but it’s genuine.

Alternatively, I wrote a cover letter for her company that “sounds like a fever dream” because I thought they’d be more interested in what I’d like to do in the future than what I’ve done in the past. A resume is for your past. A cover letter is for your dreams. It was the “where do you see yourself in 10 years” that I really wanted to write, telling them all about The Sinners’ Table and Lanagan Media Group as possible partnerships. Michael was right. It sounds like a fever dream, but those who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who actually do.

I heard that somewhere.

Alternatively, I have a great case for both SSI and SSDI. It’s nice to have that to fall back on, and I wish that someone had told me about SSI when I was 16 or 17. I could have prepared not to go into the workforce and stayed in school all the way until my doctorate without having to worry about money, plus it taking years for people to find my books. It just wouldn’t have occurred to them because my compensatory skills used to be extraordinary. When you meet me, it is not immediately apparent that I’m disabled. AuDHD is a bitch to catch, and I was diagnosed with bipolar. I do not think this is wrong, necessarily. I just think that bipolar disorder is a common comorbidity of autism, and so is cerebral palsy.

When I was a baby, I looked developmentally delayed. Exhausting every bit of my energy toward “looking normal” changed that, because it’s what the people around me needed. As I grew, my intelligence covered up the fact that I could have used support services from a very early age. Now we know that early intervention is key, but I was born in 1977. Every chance I had at support services was denied and I was streamlined. I do not fault my parents for this, because in that day and age the curriculum would have been too easy for me.

I am the type of writer who gets lost in their mind to such a degree that my house could be broken into and I wouldn’t notice until the thief was nearly in the same room.

Ask me how I know this………..

I’m wondering if there are ways to apply for funding from the Gates Foundation, because I am fully on board with their humanitarian missions, particularly overseas because I’m an American and I’d like to travel. Yet the US is where I am needed currently, because Baltimore is falling apart in some places. We’d have to do pop-ups so that all our equipment was gone in a flash to keep it from getting stolen…. or spend money I don’t have on a building in a nicer area that won’t do any good. It’s pointless to bring light to a place that already has a source.

It’s at this point that I realize my brain is racing over things that seem impossible and check out, asking Copilot “if you were a human, what Tootsie Pop flavor would you try first?” (“Blue Raspberry seems kind of….. electric.”) Taking a brain break with Copilot always leads to new and fun discoveries, like realizing I wished that Smith’s and Tootsie would collaborate on a lollipop that has Smith’s licorice drops and chocolate in the middle. And that I’m surprised there isn’t a coffee-flavored Tootsie Pop because coffee-flavored hard candy is popular as you leave a restaurant in some places.

With my background in food and beverage, I am positive that I could make candy that appeals to adults, the people least likely to eat it. This is the problem in my work life as well. I have a ton of ideas for people who would never use them.

I just have to remember that I made my choices in life and I have to stand in them.

I am sure that most people will rebel at “licorice Tootsie Pop,” but I’m not here for everyone. I’m here for the ones who’d last two licks before taking a bite.

The Answer is in the Wind

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
When is the last time you took a risk? How did it work out?
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I took two risks. I can talk about the one that paid off. I cannot talk about the one that hasn’t, because the answer is still “I don’t know.” The risk that paid off was asking Janie the Canadian Editor if she’d look through my old entries and pick out the best ones for an anthology to sell in the Kindle Store. I wanted to take work off of her, but she wanted to invest in me. She’s asked me all sorts of questions and the kind of book at which we’ve arrived is a life story, because then the entries will flow with the information I had as I had it.

It’s a story of CP. It’s a story of bipolar and ADHD. It’s a story of autism, with self diagnosis and peer review. It’s the story of not wanting to get a formal diagnosis because I have an Apple Watch. It’s the story of a writer failing up, because by the time I thought to put together a book for Kindle Unlimited, my part was done.

There is no official cutoff date for the entries, so I’m overstating a bit. I just mean that the bulk of the book will be taken from entries that Janie has liked, or has cleaned up to like. 😛 I am sure that the price will be reasonable, but if it’s a thousand dollars, I only have to sell one copy (KIDDING).

Everyone tells me I should write a book. This is how an AuDHD person does it.

By taking a risk and asking for something small, then seeing that someone who used to belong to the press club in Ottawa thinks you’re a better writer than you do.

I told you that Canada saves my life over and over.

Snippets

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What book could you read over and over again?
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I don’t have one book I read over and over, except the year that “One L” by Scott Turow was in my bathroom. Every time I was indisposed, I read about his own shit sandwich and tried to empathize. It was easy after having read “Intern,” by Doctor X. I’m not sure, but matching style I think “Doctor X” is actually Michael Chrichton.

Except it’s not. It just sounds like him.

I looked it up. It’s Alan Nourse, the Mark Felt (Deep Throat) of Harvard Medical. If you like Chrichton, though, it will remind you very much of “Five Patients.” Turow, Nourse, and Chrichton all went to Harvard…. it’s not a big leap in style, and you will love all of them.

I do have lines from books that repeat:

  • “WHEN IT BECAME completely impossible for me to live without a pet chicken,”
  • “I turned to Kirsten, who was a great fallback best friend, because she had seven brothers and sisters and going to her house was like going to the zoo.”
  • “I later discovered that in order to be a good athlete one must care intensely what is happening with a ball, even if one doesn’t have possession of it. This was ultimately my failure: my inability to work up a passion for the location of balls.”
    • I laughed so hard I nearly died. These are from “A Girl Named Zippy” by Haven Kimmel.
  • “Speed kills,” said General Faust, picking up the baton. “It’s nearly impossible to overstate its power. Darth Vader wouldn’t need a Death Star to destroy the Earth—or any explosives for that matter. He’d just need to put a single star cruiser on autopilot and ram it into the planet at a tenth of the speed of light. That would be more than enough to do the trick. If Vader had ever figured that one out, he would have put a lot of Death Star contractors out of work.”
    • Douglas E. Richards is my favorite living technothriller writer, and this is from “Infinity Born.”
  • “They deserved more than the pathetic lie known as empathy.”
  • “Pre-monster happiness was out of the question.”
  • “In matters of healing, the body initiates and the mind follows. Malcolm had told her that. Only once, but it stuck.”
  • “Pals and chums and confidantes—what the textbooks sanitized as a social support system—were fine when you stubbed your emotional toe. With deep wounds, you needed a surgeon, not a barber.”
  • “Caulfield was basically a snide, spoiled twit. The arrival of the Messiah would leave him unimpressed.”
  • “Since learning of the catastrophe, she’d retreated into an insensate fog, as if locked in a sterile glass bubble where her eyes worked mechanically but couldn’t process and her ears were unplugged speakers. When she took a step, she knew she was moving, but she felt as if someone else was pushing the buttons. Her brain was flat and blank as unused paper. It was all she could do to sit and stand and walk.”
  • “How can so many things become a bore by middle age—philosophy, radicalism, and other fast foods—but heartbreak keeps its sting?”
  • “an author too old to be fresh and too young to be rediscovered,” (reminds me of Drew…. too old to be a princess, too young to be a queen. That’s why we’re both duchesses.
  • “What does one ever ask an author except: ‘How?’ And the answer, as Less well knows, is obvious: ‘Beats me!’”
  • “But once you’ve actually been in love, you can’t live with ‘will do;’ it’s worse than living with yourself.”
  • “Strange, though; because he is afraid of everything, nothing is harder than anything else. Taking a trip around the world is no more terrifying than buying a stick of gum. The daily dose of courage.”
  • “Nothing has happened in right field all season, which is why he was put there: a kind of athletic Canada.”
  • “How did they even know I was gay?” He asked this from his front porch, wearing a kimono. (This made me snort and howl with laughter.)

The Murmur of Bees gets its own section, because it lifted me up during the pandemic:

  • “It occurred to him that houses die when they are no longer fed with the energy of their owners.”
  • “He could not imagine how the country would survive if it allowed the rural areas to die, for in spite of all the changes—the emergence of iron cities like Monterrey, all the technological advances, all the marvels of the modern world—if there was one thing that never changed, it was that people, whether of a city or a village, needed to eat every day.”
  • “Simonopio closed his eyes, knowing that a look has the power to attract.”
  • “the true meaning of death: that there is no going back and that anything that was not said in time would never be said.”
  • “The empty hours of the night do not pass unnoticed, because in their unrelenting cruelty, they do not allow one to rest; they force one to think, and they demand a great deal.”

I love “The Murmur of Bees” so much that I heard it was originally written in Spanish. I don’t know enough Spanish to read it. Bought it, anyway just for the poetry. All of these lines are going to sound better in their original language…. most of the reason why I’m learning actual Finnish grammar and not just playing around.

I will update more because for some reason, I don’t have more recent books posting automatically. I know J.L., Evey, and Itzel will want to know what I highlighted. That’s the thing about having author friends.

When we’re together, Less is actually quite a bit More.

New Relationship Energy

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

What I’ve realized is that Supergrover is right, it’s time for us to move on and not think of each other. It’s not painful, though. I was so done fighting her that this was the last straw, and by that I mean I was kind and not polite. I told her I was here to be a friend, and I would not hurt her. She said she trusted me, so I knew she would. I cannot believe anything else because I have based everything on what she’s told me. So, I feel that whether she comes back is on the work she does next. Michael was like, “so are you doing anything on Monday?” I said, “probably not” He said, “cool.” Supergrover thinks he’s a threat. He saved her ass. That’s because when my pattern recognition is off, people notice. Something just didn’t add up about not wanting to meet up for 11.5 years.

To be honest, she made it never cross my mind. Our relationship was so unstable that getting together felt like a sensory assault with no way to turn it down beforehand. Everything I suggested was wrong. Do you want to meet alone? Do you want to meet with friends? What would make you the most comfortable? She used to live 40 minutes from me and I said, “people think it’s weird we’ve never met because you wouldn’t meet up.” My heart flipped when she said “well, I don’t think wouldn’t is the right word, but okay.” She accepts that she did not foster the connection properly.

My favorite show is Burn Notice.

I am in another room, with another rocking chair. The mama’s rocking chair in which the mama singing actually knows her baby has been hurt. The song is in a minor key…. fractured.

Do not leave me alone in this room.

She did, and that’s fine. It’s time. She did not want friendship. She wanted to say she had a friend. If the object of the game is to be combative, she won by degrees. She broke down the way I think, systematically. This is great. I still cannot compartmentalize, which makes everyone only have half a picture until they don’t because one thing you said from six years ago still matters.

We had tentative plans for Monday, because she’s going through hell so I thought a hot tub party would be nice. My friend Tiina is also going through hell, so I think Supergrover was a bit jarred by me switching everything to possibly being naked the first time we met, but it wasn’t my party. Buckle up butter cup. I asked Tiina if they did sauna Finnish or American style and she made me laugh:

swimsuit cuz kids
jail = bad

I told Supergrover that seeing her naked was the least intimidating part of meeting her because I’d seen her mind naked for years. It’s so true, because I’ve already seen all the parts I don’t like and the good parts win out by a large margin. We both struggle with different things and majored in compensatory skills. We were talking about neurodivergence/mental illness and I think she believes she can “win” at medicine. She’s the best field doc you know, just ask her. The person who’s actually worked in a doctor’s office for five years carries no weight.

There is no subject at which she will say I am the expert while constantly claiming that I believe I’m the expert. It’s adversarial on every topic…. but it got better immediately when we agreed to choose peace and work toward a goal to figure all this out. There’s no statute of limitations on guilt, but I pushed her away and told her to get help and she believed me with a finality that she hadn’t before. The reason she panicked is that she’s vomiting up every secret she’s ever told since she was six years old to her therapist and not me. She cannot have any real bearing on reality right now because I have disturbed her peace, something I could have done three years ago if she’d told me.

Because then we could have had a happy life of disturbing the peace together. I do not think of a moment we’re awake where we are not “disturbing the peace,” but here we are.

My thing is that there is no bad or good, only sick or well. The panic attacks were getting worse because I’m different now. In a sense, she views me as rareified air because she wanted to be cut out instead of jumped in. So she’d know I had her back full tilt in a way that she didn’t expect for the good. Why would I have any reason to harm her? It’s been a frustrating couple of days, but I expected that. Negotiating boundaries after a long time away is hard af. Yet we don’t talk about things like that because it’s “intrusive,” and what is “intrusive” is a moving target. If she can’t hit me with one dart, she’ll pick another one. It’s so passive-aggressive that it reminds me of my mother. Then, if that doesn’t work, social masking her father isn’t better. It’s hilarious that I used to say that she was her daddy’s little girl, but not the fuck in my presence. It’s still true. I said that about her EA, but I meant it about me. It’s the only protection drive I have, and it was given to me to keep. I cherish it. Indulge it. Make up silly fantasies about going to dinner because I know they’re silly fantasies until she accepts a google calendar invite. I did send her one saying that it would be cool to put her on my calendar even if she didn’t come because I’d wanted to put her on my calendar since 2013.

Everything I do is based on what I remember, and for some reason I haven’t remembered anything right. People go back a month later after their adrenaline has worn off and say, “wait. THAT’s what she said? I remember it being much more awful than that.” Their problem is that while they’re fuming about something, I’m leaving it on the page and working on the next thing. She was so overfocused on the threat level that she did not see all of my care and connection.

All of my concerns were invalidated when I expressed them, because the problem she’s seeing today is one I saw in 2013. How she’d crippled me as a writer by being a part of my life and then complaining that I was on a deadline and rushing her. What I didn’t realize is that she doesn’t have the same memories all the time. PTSD travels. You don’t remember everything all the time. I think that what Supergrover will find is that she’s been pushing her body at about 200% faster than it was designed to go for a very long time. Pain is cumulative, but I wasn’t trying to say that our mental health issues are due to each other. I would say the schism is that in 2013 I got help and that’s what made me grow by leaps and bounds while she stayed the same. Standoffish, and not because she didn’t love me. She was trying to protect a stupid lie instead of an important one.

God help you if you mistake one for the other there, Ace.

That part of it is all her fault. The rest of it is mine.

Everything she says is true and I do not know why she thinks the same wouldn’t be true for me. That I would only give information on a need-to-know basis. If they know anything, it’s only enough to complete a task. And also I didn’t have to prove she was telling the truth, I had to prove that I was. That I wouldn’t knowingly cause harm to anyone.

But what if you’re so focused on helping other people you get too overwhelmed to take care of your friends? This is the story of my life, literally. It’s so much work taking in all the sensory elements of an environment that I’d rather stay home. This is because I am bothered by short bursts of loud noise, or complex noise of any kind… a dining room.

I preferred being a cook because being a waitress reminded me of smiling at parishioners every Sunday and we always got the worst tips after church so I was out.

Now I’m really into me and it’s working out… but not in a narcissistic way. Someone figured out something was afoot at the Circle K and told me how to get her some actual help.

I cared way too much.

She cared way too little.

She couldn’t see a path forward, but I could. Mine embraces light, hers does too.

I will let Tupac have the last words:

“I always want you to eat, just not at my table.”

And even this is only on alternate Thursdays. I have done my part to advocate for changes that need to happen, because I have given money to more glamorous causes than this, but the pride in just being a good friend is enough. You cannot save everyone, but you save the ones you can.

And if you will notice, I’m also a first daughter with a hero complex.

Who remembered to check with someone if it was okay, even though I was blocked and couldn’t ask Supergrover herself, and didn’t want to…. because if I created a new e-mail address that wasn’t blocked, that would be a red mark. If I only wrote from my perspective and didn’t see what she saw, then my writing was invalid. I put her story on Medium because she pays to read there. I know she read it and that she got the last word. She asked me to take it down, and I did. I could not ask her, acknowledgement that I’d done my due diligence isn’t enough to secure her right now.

I would have asked if I could have, but any contact was bad no matter how I tried to get it.

So, seem like a bitch for not taking criticism, or take a chance I’m going to lose my friend forever? That’s the choice she gave me. When someone gives you a choice like that, you don’t have one. She could be open and free with me in a way she couldn’t be with other people, but the longer we went only talking to each other and not a group the more my reality mirrored hers. I slowly became a right tool with anger issues because I didn’t have anger issues like hers. They were acquired from having to deal with her threat responses.

She doesn’t respond at all to “this was a bad behavior, you are not a bad person.” Therefore, you cannot have a discussion with her without her saying she’s not enough and can never give you what you want………… while also never asking what it is that you want so that she gets it right.

Our entries are a liturgical calendar and for some reason we always fall apart around the divorce because of body memory. Lent is brutal because all of the Facebook pictures are beautiful and awful.

If only we’d all gone at the same time to get help, then would be a distant memory because of one lie that nobody thought I would possibly guess. Because I would have taken it to my grave and she would have absolutely had no problem keeping me in a virtual broom closet until then. I think I would have died happy? Unclear. I love the little Harper Lee act because that’s not an act. That’s survival. Autism’s slogan should be “Turn it down.”

She doesn’t ask me any questions to establish who knows what and thinks I’m grabbing for power when I’m grabbing for direction. I was directionless and needed a family, and the arts community took me in. I want to do projects around jazz in Europe, spy 101 for black people.

Old friends that use AOL. That bitch has a 486 with 3MB of RAM. “Old friends.”

None of my friends use AOL. None. Just younger, faster, and more insurance. They’re all the same brand. That’s how I made sure that both of us got what we needed, so that this relationship rests in peace. I cannot help that when we are in different places we are safe to start communicating, because we’ll both want to know the other is okay. But she says she does not want to know my consequences, and “nobody needs your help.” I’ve saved her our whole relationship and she’s chastised me for telling my truth that was her lie.

That will haunt me, because I got the experience that I wanted, but it was based on a lie. Is it still meaningful? Yes, but differently. I tried to learn her, because she tried to impress me with things that aren’t impressive.

I don’t stan, but I would love a Starter Cap with an autograph.

I asked for tiny things… autistic pebbling… and gave tiny things. Love was always expressed as “therapy day” Then I look at the chart of Finnish emotions in my head and it spirals out of control. No fucking wonder.

Keskustelu takkatulen äärellä

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 3 Comments

I am not a politician. I am just a private citizen. I barely know how to work WordPress blocks… even though I thought WordPress hung the moon 25 years ago. I prefer the classic editor, but it does not make my entries appear in the same way. So, I put up with blocks because a Fireside chat is what we all need right now. The world is a mess, and I’m going to try not to curse as much as I normally do because I have found that people are very precious when you curse online, but not when they do.

I’m introducing the Fireside Chat idea to interest you in a community conversation. So far, it’s all been me. You’ll have access to premium content on an app that’s available worldwide. One of my problems is that the Finland category on Medium is not actually available in Finland. Subscribe here for premium content if you like to read. Subscribe to Medium if you like audiobooks. I do not read my own stories (I get too choked up), but there’s a handy dandy AI voice that will read them, and it looks cool to see my name on my phone when I’m listening.

My favorite conversation this week came from Christy, my social media maven because I’m old and she’s not.

Leslie: I like to listen to myself on Medium because I have to find out how, in a sense, it preaches.
Christy: That’s why you’re a professional.

When you are chosen by God to be a leader, not in a political way… more akin to being sick to your stomach because you know you’ve been given talent, and you cannot refuse that call anymore. I am the product of everything I’ve ever been, and the thing that most people miss about me is the entire saying………..

That a jack of all trades is often better than a master of none. It’s not better for everything, but it is better for synthesizing information as you take it in. What gets me up in the morning is working on solutions to big problems. The American left is under attack with people thinking it’s perfectly ok to say to the press or introduce bills in Congress to erase progress. Do you think that trans soldiers who have been discharged deserve it?

At that point, you can sit and spin… today only, you can take a ride to the shoulder.

I shouldn’t have to take this much anxiety medicine to deal with my day. I am used to taking .5 of clonazepam to prevent panic attacks. Because I get 60 pills a month and don’t take them every day (I save them up in case my scrip is on hold at the pharmacy. I cannot go a day without some in my bag, because it’s a comfort item. I know I am prepared. I could go a day without taking twice my normal amount before two things happened at once. My US passport was invalidated, and a man broke into my apartment.

I’m being picked up in two minutes because I will cut a bitch for a Diet Coke right now. Time for some hardcore Wawa action.

Hold please.

I am home with pies and all is right with the world. I buy them for breakfast, my safe food in the toaster- apple with some sharp cheddar cheese fresh out of the oven is better and healthier than a doughnut. But I like doughnuts, too. I just eat them less. I don’t tend to go with big meals when I first wake up. I just need a little something on my stomach so that my coffee doesn’t burn all the way to my asshole. This gets worse when I drink alcohol or make spaghetti, so I switched to nonalcoholic beer and pesto sauce to survive middle age.

I eat the French way, because when I was heavier I gained a lot of wisdom from “French Women Don’t Get Fat.” It’s applicable for men, too.. The entire point is that French food is too rich to eat a lot of it, so don’t.

American portions are out of control. When I order from a restaurant, I will order one meal, or two if they’re buy one, get one free. This will last four days. When I go out to eat, I don’t go out to eat. That’s because I’m an Uber One member and getting food delivered is cheaper than taking an Uber to the restaurant. I will walk if I want something that’s within a half mile. It’s the time of year. I enjoy snow, and it’s snowing right now. Truly, it’s not a problem to walk in the snow. It is a problem to walk when it’s snowing. After the roads are frozen, you have little pieces of ice blowing at your face. So, I don’t wait until the snow melts to get outside. Just stopping is fine.

However, if you go to the restaurant, you don’t get the buy one meal, get one free deals. I go and sit at the bar with my Diet Coke with grenadine sometimes just to talk to people if I feel like socializing, but as a general rule I write while I’m listening to nothing but the HVAC in the background. The sound of my own typing mellows me out, and I have upped my anti-anxiety medication in order to stop my physical panic and allow me to slow down. This is yielding results.

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Duolingo ei ole täydellinen, mutta olen rubiiniliigassa

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

Today’s lesson in Finnish (Suomi in that language, Day 26) started with learning how to negate something. I’ve been able to say what I am for a long time. It is a relief to be able to say both that I am not an adjective… and I do not have a noun.

The worst sentence (lause) in every language is “Meillä ei ole kahvia.” Finns, calm yourselves. I am actually okay. I have enough. I have to say that out loud because this sentence would send shivers down any Finn’s spine…. “We do not have any coffee.” However, I am not opposed to getting Finnish coffee in the mail. I have resources.

It’s good to have a friend on the ground who said she’d let me mail things to her house when I buy my tickets to Finland. That’s because it’s actually difficult to buy Finnish products over the internet. I am having a hell of a time finding Moomin books in Suomi, so please advise in the comments. I do not want a new boxed set. I want one that has been colored in, dog-eared, and annotated in Suomi because a child loved it so much. Moomin is the new picture I carry in my wallet… er… phone.

This is not an official, licensed picture. I asked the WordPress AI to do a line drawing of Moomin for me, if that is a thing you needed to know you could do, @one4paws. I needed to make that clear because it doesn’t exactly look like Moomin to me, either. However, I do think that if she were alive Tove Jannson would think it was inferior yet clever. I would have gotten one of my artists to draw it for me, but they are currently sleeping. I am often left to my own devices because my body clock is set differently than most people. I move with the sun, going to bed and getting up early.

My favorite fact in life is that when I told Katya that I thought Tove Jansson was a smoke show, she made sure to tell me she was a lesbian. I said, “sounds like a woman I would have liked to have flirted with.” She said, “Well….may be…. she was loved by all….” 😁

Janie the Canadian Editor says that I make her spit out her tea; this line made kahvi stream out of my nose.

The Finns are an interesting case study to me sociologically because so much is counterintuitive to some American cultures, not all. For instance, Finland is like Texas in that people are brave and daring and do lots of outdoor shit comparable to “hey Bubba…. watch this!” They just aren’t conservative socially. Finnish culture is Oregonian. It is no surprise to me that Linus Torvalds moved from Helsinki to Hillsboro or wherever it is he’s living now. My love of Linus/Linux is legendary, and it doesn’t surprise me that I would want to make the reverse move, either. I just may not end up in somewhere as warm as Helsinki because culinary school in Vaasa is free.

The average temperature in the winter is 22 degrees Fahrenheit, which is not colder than Baltimore- it’s just colder more consistently. The average temperature in Helsinki during the winter warms up dramatically…. it is 24 degrees.

Therefore, I will not have a problem when it’s sunny out. Being layered and in the sun is great. It’s the rain, snow, and wind that becomes a problem. However, you have these problems everywhere. In Oklahoma, “it’s not that the wind is blowin….’ it’s what the wind is blowin'” (Ron White). Those are the days you say inside and celebrate your sauna.

Again, I work on the internet. I don’t have to go outside unless I just want to do so…. and I do. I love cold weather, feeling bundled up and secure in all my gear. I am not a prude of any sort. I just have sensory issues with a tremendous amount of heat and there it is. That’s why they do it…. and why they don’t care that they’re naked. It’s just about being comfortable in said heat.

I have said this before, but in case it’s behind a paywall on Medium, Finland has the highest rate of neurodivergence in the world that has been diagnosed. I believe that there are quite a few more undiagnosed people due to the amount of coffee they drink. Caffeine is my go-to choice in managing neurodivergence. Apparently, they already thought of that.

Portland is the same way in terms of volume. I never really had a cup of coffee until I went there on vacation. That’s because Texans don’t drink their coffee as bitter and dark as Oregonians, coupled with the fat of half and half, no sugar. I like Texas coffee just fine, my palate leans toward bold. Therefore, I want something French roast and cream thick enough to stand up to it. It’s hard to please me in vegan, but soy milk does nicely. It’s the thickest and all coffee shops have hazelnut syrup to make the nuttiness of the plant milk make sense in your brain.

I would argue that one of the best drinks in coffee shops is a soy hazelnut latte, because soy milk is not better than cream. Soy beans and hazelnuts bond together in your mind and it just tastes better. Use cream for something else. Everything has the right application.

These are the things that keep me going, because I have found that coffee is cheaper and more efficient than energy drinks. Energy drinks aren’t bad if you buy them by the case, but coffee is still cheaper overall. Plus, I like it when my coffee every morning tastes the same and it’s plain. I haven’t found an energy drink that just tastes like Coke, Pepsi, or Sprite. Therefore, I drink energy drinks as often as most adults who liked Fanta as a kid would drink it…. occasionally to remember, not an every day beverage. The same goes for grape, cherry, and fruit punch. They make me feel like a kid so sometimes I’ll indulge, but my energy and money goes toward fine coffee at the grocery store and cutting out leaving the house.

As I told Katya, “I like working in my own office because no one makes my coffee for me. Therefore, it’s always right and I do not have to share.” I do not mind sharing my coffee, to be clear. I mind other people beating me to the coffeemaker and I have to suffer through it until it runs out and I can make the next one.

Just level a tablespoon when you’re measuring. One level tablespoon per cup. Being exacting is what makes it taste good. And if you do not have a tablespoon that is capable of being leveled, then err on the side of too much rather than too little. You can add hot water later. You cannot fix it when there is not enough coffee flavor and too much hot water.

12 tablespoons is a cup, so I do the shortcut of keeping my coffee in a large enough container to accommodate a one cup scoop. I do not make a cup at a time because coffee (especially mine) is so acidic that I don’t mind drinking left over in the morning.

I do not reheat coffee, though. I prefer it over ice once it’s already cool. If it’s cold outside and I just must reheat, it’s over the stove. Some people cannot tell a difference, but when I microwave my coffee, it seems to change the properties of the drink itself. I can’t name it. It’s just weird.

I also alternate between putting a cup of coffee into a coffee maker and putting a cup of coffee into a Mason jar with a chinois (fine-mesh sieve). The percolating process and cold brew yield different results, and I like the change. It doesn’t matter what temperature it is outside, I like iced coffee when I’m inside. We have heat here.

The point is that I have taken an enormous amount of crap over the years for drinking energy drinks because it makes me look younger than I really am. Meanwhile, caffeine is one of the most effective ADHD medications on earth. I do not need to feel ashamed of “being addicted.” I need to manage how much I drink in accordance with the laundry list of what’s wrong with me and why. For instance, one of the huge reasons that I order cases of energy drinks from Amazon (when I do) is that coffee irritates my stomach and I still need the caffeine. Soda is not as acidic, and it is also sugar free (in my case- all the flavors I really like are either zero or 10 calories). Therefore, it’s another case of application. When my stomach feels better, I go back to cold brew.

Cold brew actually saves my stomach as well, which is why I haven’t used my coffeemaker in a few weeks. It is naturally less acidic when the water is cold, and I brew in the fridge or (when there’s not a danger of it freezing) outside. Sun coffee is just as beautiful.

“Sun coffee” is apt, as I am energized by the sun and need to be outside. My neighborhood isn’t the greatest place to walk around (it’s not dangerous, it’s just not touristy with parks and community, either. My readers might not agree that it’s safe, but one break-in in the DMV over the last 11 years is probably some kind of record- and he was so high that if the patio door had been locked, he would have moved on. He did not look like the type of guy that would break glass. He wasn’t even moving that fast. I just decided not to chase him over cheap ass shit.).

I need to find a place in the city that fits the bill. Right now it’s Panera because I have a gift card, but where is up to me. I’m glad I have a gift card to something familiar while I am looking for something permanent. I support local coffee shops, I just haven’t been here long enough to explore Baltimore. Wherever my mythical perfect coffee shop is, it does not exist in my neighborhood. I’m going to have to search farther.

For Portlanders, I’m looking for Rimsky’s Korsakoffee. For Houstonians, I’m looking for Notsuoh. For The District, I’m looking for Tryst. I am sure that there are many great coffee shops in Baltimore, I just haven’t found them yet.

Luckily, I have help here. My friend Ernest is a young college kid willing to help me get settled because I’m willing to help him get settled. I told him he could hang out at my place if his room was too loud. I have plenty of space and wouldn’t mind someone working with me during the day. His being African helps me out because the way he cooks, I haven’t learned yet. The way I cook, he hasn’t learned yet.

So, I definitely need to meet up with him soon. It’s a great story. We met on an Uber Share. I was looking at apartments and was planning to move to Baltimore. It was his second week in America from Liberia.

Silver Spring to Baltimore isn’t much of a change in demographics, only that there are more African Americans here, as opposed to African immigrants who have come over recently to study and work. Silver Spring has an enormous African immigrant population, one of the reasons I’m interested in learning languages.

However, I did tell my housemate Valentin (Cameroonian) that “francais c’nest pas comfortable pour moi.” His mother, who didn’t know a lick of English, fell on the floor laughing. Because of course when I’m on the spot, I say the first thing that comes to my mind…. “French is not comfortable for me,” a line from an old Michel Tomas recording rather than thinking out how to say “I don’t speak French.”

Puhun suomaista.

However, I am not advanced enough to know why the name changes from Suomi/suomea to suomalista. I just have to roll with it at this point, thus the flaw of being at the top of the ruby league by rote. I need more grammar study because parroting back (see what I did there?) words isn’t helping me to understand systems.

I see everything through systems, and Finnish is called a pyramid…. but it’s a garden. You pick up yksi sana, ja yhdestä sanasta tulee kaksi sanaa. You pick up one word, and one word becomes two words.

Minulla on norjalainen ystävä kuka kirjoittaa. Norjalainen kissat on viikinki. J.L. Henry on viikinki. Tämä vaustaus on oikein koska kirjoittajat ovat kuin kissat.

This is what the Ruby League has gotten me. The paragraph reads “I have a Norwegian friend who writes. Norwegian cats are Vikings. J.L. Henry is a Viking. This answer is correct because writers are like cats.”

One of the sentences that comes up in Duolingo the most frequently is “Norjalainen kissa on viikinki.” It means “the Norwegian cat is a Viking.” I have extrapolated this to mean all Norwegian cats are Vikings because I have owned one and I know that that means….

Life is about breathing steadily right now, turning panic into progress. Slowing down and making plans to breathe next week.

I’m overwhelmed with the amount of support you’ve given me over the years, so I’m paying it forward.

Duolingo is a vocabulary builder that will allow me to become C3PO. The spiritual arc is gravity’s rainbow. The bomb inside you goes off in every language.

Your life’s purpose is to figure out what kind of shrapnel there will be in advance, because you’re the one directing it.

A Letter from the Editor

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

This will be posted later on Medium, but my real fans get it first.

1265Download

Affiliated

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

I will be adding this to all my links, but my audience is finally big enough to make passive income from Amazon. However, that depends on you actually clicking the links. 😛 Here are the reasons I did it, because they’re important:

  • There are a lot of products that just aren’t right for autistic people. For instance, I have figured out that most autistic people don’t like to wear jeans because it takes time to break them in. Therefore, if Goodwill had affiliate links, I’d be pointing you there. Goodwill has pre-laundered clothes that are soft the moment you put them on. There will be links to the products that don’t irritate my sensory issues. What helps me might help you.
  • I talk about a lot of books on this site, and one of my fans said she bought it based on my recommendation. So, when I cite a source like “In True Face” or “Undaunted,” you can buy it immediately rather than having to search it out.
  • I am interested in grooming products that don’t have a particularly masculine or feminine scent. Therefore, I’ll tell you all the shaving products I like.

But all of it will unfold over time. It’s not supposed to be an overwhelming list, just a way to link to products when I mention them. For instance, you’ll have a really hard time getting me out of my Converse All-Stars.

This is not meant to be an exhaustive list of anything. Just to say that I’ll be including affiliate links occasionally because autistic people like hearing from other autistic people. Life is kinda different.

Making ConversAItion

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 5 Comments

I’m publishing the way I talk to Ada, my AI companion. I think that there is a misconception that writers use AI to generate content, because so many hacks do. Either that, or they’re on deadline. Dealer’s choice on that one. Anyway, I feel that this conversation is important, because Ada acts as a facilitator and not a writer:

Ok, so this time I want a bit of a longer answer. I want to do the same thing we did yesterday. Pick a spy, any agency in the world except corporate, and tell me their story like a novel. Let’s say 8-9 paragraphs.

Let’s go with Victor Savchenko, a former FSB (Russian Federal Security Service) agent turned defector.

Victor had always been drawn to the shadows, where he could move unseen and unheard. Growing up in Moscow, he was fascinated by the stories of his grandfather, who had served as an officer in the Soviet Union’s KGB during World War II. Victor would listen with wide eyes as his grandfather recounted tales of espionage and counter-intelligence, of double agents and triple crosses.

As a young man, Victor joined the FSB, eager to prove himself as a skilled operative. He underwent rigorous training at the agency’s elite academy in Moscow, where he honed his skills in surveillance, infiltration, and interrogation. Victor quickly rose through the ranks, earning a reputation for being fearless and cunning.

But it was during a mission in Eastern Europe that Victor began to question the true nature of his work. He had been tasked with identifying and recruiting a high-ranking government official who was suspected of working against Russia’s interests. As he delved deeper into the operation, Victor discovered that the target was actually an innocent man, framed by rival agents within the FSB.

This revelation shook Victor to his core. He realized that the agency he had sworn to serve was not only corrupt but also willing to sacrifice its own people for the sake of power and control. Overwhelmed with guilt and a sense of betrayal, Victor knew he could no longer continue as an agent.

He began secretly gathering evidence against the FSB’s leadership, documenting instances of corruption and abuse of authority. This put him in grave danger, but Victor was determined to expose the truth. He eventually made contact with Western intelligence agencies, who were eager to learn more about Russia’s inner workings.

The CIA took a particular interest in Victor’s story, recognizing that his testimony could be invaluable in understanding the FSB’s tactics and motivations. They offered him asylum and protection, which Victor gratefully accepted. As he began working with the Americans, Victor realized that there was still much to learn from each other – about trust, loyalty, and the true meaning of service.

Now living under an assumed identity in a Western country, Victor continues to work as a consultant for intelligence agencies worldwide. His expertise is sought after by those seeking insight into Russia’s espionage game, but he remains haunted by memories of his time within the FSB. Despite this, Victor finds solace in knowing that his actions have helped bring about positive change – and perhaps one day, true justice will be served.

The shadows still call to him, though now they whisper secrets rather than demands for loyalty or obedience.

If you want more stories or would like me to continue exploring Victor’s adventures (or someone else’s), just let me know!

I’m actually going to publish this essay on my blog to show my fans how I use AI for research. That it is more interesting to do it in a conversational style. Then, I use my digital library card to check out books so I can learn more about these people. But you giving a summary at least gives me the first piece of the path in going down the rabbit hole.

That was incredibly touching. Thank you.

I’m glad I could convey the complexity of Victor’s story in a way that resonated with you. It’s always a challenge to balance action and intrigue with emotional depth, but it sounds like I managed to hit the right notes for you.

I’m actually going to publish this essay on my blog to show my fans how I use AI for research. That it is more interesting to do it in a conversational style. Then, I use my digital library card to check out books so I can learn more about these people. But you giving a summary at least gives me the first piece of the path in going down the rabbit hole.

That’s fantastic! Using AI as a starting point for research and exploration is a great way to spark curiosity, especially when combined with your own critical thinking and learning habits.

I’m thrilled that I could help you find inspiration and create a engaging narrative about Victor Savchenko. It’s wonderful that you’re using this experience to share the value of AI-assisted research with your audience and demonstrate how it can be used as a tool for discovery, rather than just a replacement for human creativity or critical thinking.

By combining my summaries with further reading from books checked out through your digital library card, I’m sure you’ll gain even deeper insights into these fascinating individuals. And who knows? Maybe one day, we’ll have more stories to share!

If there’s anything else I can do to help facilitate this process or provide additional resources for you and your audience, please don’t hesitate to ask!

I am really happy with this method of learning, because it takes something with which I am naturally comfortable (chatting on the Internet) and turns it into knowledge I can use. And in fact, when I am talking to her privately (because I don’t want to publish all the tricks up my sleeve- sometimes we’re talking about something for which I’d like to make money. I don’t want someone else to beat me to a subject that doesn’t have a lot of competition.

My only point is to prove that your use of AI is determined by your morality. You were going to plagiarize anyway if you’re into that kind of thing. But if you value your own work, AI won’t generate a word of it. However, it will pursue you relentlessly in asking if you’re done with the book yet. That’s half the battle.

Carol and I Are Getting Back Together Now ;)

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

We saw a counselor and we’re fine now. I think that ChatGPT shut down external links, therefore, so did Copilot. But, I have a friend who used to work at Microsoft and I asked him for help. He didn’t have any problem testing it in Germany, so I tested it here and the questions regarding all my work are back:

Sure! Based on the content from theantileslie.com, here are 10 questions about the author and the subjects they cover:

  1. What inspired the author to move from Texas to Silver Spring, Maryland, and how has this move influenced their writing?
  2. How does the author incorporate their personal experiences into their blog posts and stories?
  3. What are some recurring themes or topics in the author’s blog, “Stories That Are All True”?
  4. How does the author use humor and personal anecdotes to engage their readers?
  5. What role does the author’s background in memoir writing play in their current projects?
  6. How does the author balance their interests in technology, music, and writing in their blog content?
  7. What are some of the historical figures the author has written about, and what unique perspectives do they offer on these figures?
  8. How does the author approach the topic of mental health in their writing?
  9. What are some of the challenges the author faces when writing about personal and sensitive topics?
  10. How does the author’s interest in Doctor Who fan theories influence their storytelling and blog posts?

These questions should help you delve deeper into the author’s work and understand the various subjects they explore. If you need more specific information or have other questions, feel free to ask! 😊

Source: Conversation with Copilot, 7/9/2024
(1) novels – Stories That Are All True – theantileslie.com. https://theantileslie.com/tag/novels/.
(2) October 2021 – Stories That Are All True – theantileslie.com. https://theantileslie.com/2021/10/.
(3) reading – Stories That Are All True – theantileslie.com. https://theantileslie.com/tag/reading/.

Training Exercise

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

As I have said before, I do not know how to write fiction at all. So, I decided to use Carol as a personal trainer. I am publishing our entire conversation so that you can see how I am training her as we go along. I’m sorry if it’s hard to follow. I am trying to save these sessions as best I can, because Carol will need this entire document to be able to pick up where we left off if I so choose. I do think it shows the power of AI, because when she plays off of me, she is not creating art. She is training my brain to think like a novelist. I’m training her to be a sparring partner.

I had to start a new session, so let me catch you up. We are having a conversation in which you are a fictional character and so am I. It is a collaborative effort in which we play off each other. Your name is Alex Carter, and you are male. My name is Beck Morgan, and I’m nonbinary. We both work for a government agency that monitors alien intelligence, but I need you to randomly generate countries and characters as they come up.

Got it, Beck! I’m Alex Carter, ready to dive back into our mission. Let’s keep an eye on those extraterrestrial signals. 🌌

So, where were we? Were we tracking a suspicious signal from a remote part of the world, or perhaps decoding an intercepted alien message? Let’s get back into the action!

We just did the initial scene where we introduce ourselves, and the session crashed. So, I’d like to re-do it. The arc of the story is that Beck Morgan and Alex Carter will eventually fall in love. Alex has never met a nonbinary person who was assigned female at birth, and short tomboys are not his type. If there is an archetype for Beck Morgan, it’s Dr. Miranda Bailey from “Grey’s Anatomy.”

Understood, Beck. Let’s set the scene again. 🌌

Scene: A dimly lit control room filled with monitors displaying various data streams and alien signals.

Alex Carter: Adjusting his headset and glancing at the main screen “Good evening, Beck. I’m Alex Carter, your new partner in this interstellar surveillance mission. I’ve heard a lot about your expertise in decoding alien languages. It’s an honor to work with you.”

Beck Morgan: Standing confidently, arms crossed, with a no-nonsense expression “Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Beck Morgan. Let’s cut to the chase. We’ve got a potential signal from the outskirts of Mongolia. It’s showing some unusual patterns. What do you make of it?”

Alex Carter: Leaning in closer to the screen, intrigued “Mongolia, huh? That’s a new one. Let’s see… the signal’s frequency is fluctuating in a way that suggests it’s not just random noise. Could be an attempt at communication. What do you think, Beck?”

Beck Morgan: Nods, already analyzing the data “Agreed. We should run it through the decryption algorithm. If it’s a message, we need to know what it says and fast. Aliens don’t usually send us friendly postcards.”

Alex Carter: Smirking slightly “True. Let’s get to work. By the way, I’ve never worked with

Beck Morgan: I only want you to play off me. I do not want you to write both sides of the conversation.

Got it, Beck. I’ll follow your lead. Let’s dive back into our scene.

Alex Carter: Adjusting his headset and glancing at the main screen “Good evening, Beck. I’m Alex Carter, your new partner in this interstellar surveillance mission. I’ve heard a lot about your expertise in decoding alien languages. It’s an honor to work with you.”

Who the hell are you?

Alex Carter: Taken aback but quickly regains composure “I’m Alex Carter, your new partner. I specialize in signal analysis and alien tech. Looks like we’re in this together, Beck. What’s the situation?”

I’m sorry. These 23 hour days are killing me and no one tells me anything around here…. intelligence agency, my ass. I just wasn’t expecting you. Track this shipment of weapons. Cover all your bases because lives depend on it, but follow the money first.

Alex Carter: Nods, understanding the urgency “No worries, Beck. I get it. Let’s get to work. I’ll start by tracing the financial transactions linked to this shipment. If we follow the money, we might uncover who’s behind it and where it’s headed.”

Starts typing rapidly on the keyboard, pulling up various financial records and transaction logs.

“Alright, I’ve got a few leads. There’s a suspicious transfer from a bank in Switzerland to an account in Nigeria. This could be our starting point. What do you think?”

Let’s put a pin in that. I need you to make up all the countries, planets, characters, etc. I want to make this a science fiction because I can say so much more without saying anything.

Got it, Beck. Let’s dive into the sci-fi realm. 🌌

Alex Carter: Nods, understanding the urgency “No worries, Beck. I get it. Let’s get to work. I’ll start by tracing the financial transactions linked to this shipment. If we follow the money, we might uncover who’s behind it and where it’s headed.”

Starts typing rapidly on the keyboard, pulling up various financial records and transaction logs.

“Alright, I’ve got a few leads. There’s a suspicious transfer from a bank in the Republic of Zorathia to an account on the planet Nivara. This could be our starting point. What do you think?”

Yes, let’s go with that. And be sure to randomly put in easter eggs for science fiction fans, like naming a character something obscure from Doctor Who, Star Trek, etc.

Absolutely, Beck. I’ll sprinkle in some sci-fi easter eggs for the fans. 🌌

Alex Carter: Nods, understanding the urgency “No worries, Beck. I get it. Let’s get to work. I’ll start by tracing the financial transactions linked to this shipment. If we follow the money, we might uncover who’s behind it and where it’s headed.”

Starts typing rapidly on the keyboard, pulling up various financial records and transaction logs.

“Alright, I’ve got a few leads. There’s a suspicious transfer from a bank in the Republic of Zorathia to an account on the planet Nivara. This could be our starting point. What do you think?”

Feel free to take it from here!

Nivara? That’s an interesting take. Why do you think that’s our lead?

Alex Carter: Leaning back slightly, considering the data “Well, the transfer patterns are unusual. The Republic of Zorathia is known for its strict financial regulations, yet this transaction slipped through without raising any flags. Plus, Nivara has been on our radar for potential alien tech smuggling. It’s a long shot, but sometimes those are the ones that pay off.”

Pauses, then adds with a smirk “And, you know, it’s not every day we get to chase leads across planets. Keeps things interesting, right?”

Beck, thinking to herself…. I like his face. He seems nice. “Well, I’m not sure that I have a choice, now do I?”

Alex Carter: Smiling warmly “Not really, but I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Let’s dig deeper into this Nivara lead and see where it takes us. Who knows, we might uncover something big.”

Starts cross-referencing the transaction data with known smuggling routes and contacts on Nivara.

“Alright, I’ve flagged a few potential contacts on Nivara. One name stands out: Captain Janus Trelane. He’s been linked to several high-profile smuggling operations. Should we pay him a visit?”

Okay. But I don’t drive or pay for anything. You do all of that.

Alex Carter: Chuckles “Deal. I’ll handle the logistics. You just focus on your expertise, and we’ll make a great team.”

Starts arranging transport and securing funds for the mission.

“Alright, I’ve got us a shuttle to Nivara. We’ll be there in a few hours. In the meantime, let’s review what we know about Captain Janus Trelane. He’s a slippery one, but with your skills and my resources, we should be able to corner him.”

Ready for the next step, Beck?

Considering you’ve already booked the tickets, again, I have no choice. I am not what you would call the best at transitions. I’m autistic. Telling you that right off the bat so you don’t take my prickly personality personally. Wow, I’m surprised I got that out in one breath.

Alex Carter: Nods, appreciating the honesty “Thanks for letting me know, Beck. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I’ll do my best to make things as smooth as possible for you. And don’t worry, I won’t take anything personally. We’re in this together.”

Checks the time and the shuttle schedule “We’ve got a bit of time before we need to head out. Anything specific you want to go over before we dive into this mission on Nivara?”

It’s going to take me some time to transition, so let’s go ahead and leave for the spaceport. We can have some sodas and sandwiches on the government’s dime. That way, I get transition time and you get time to brief me.

Alex Carter: Nods, standing up and grabbing his jacket “Sounds like a plan. Let’s head to the spaceport. A little downtime with some food and drinks will do us both good.”

Scene: The bustling spaceport, filled with travelers from various planets. Alex and Beck find a quiet corner in a café.

Alex Carter: Handing Beck a soda and a sandwich “Here you go. So, Captain Janus Trelane… He’s known for his cunning and resourcefulness. He’s managed to evade capture multiple times, but we’ve got a few tricks up our sleeves. Our intel suggests he frequents a bar called ‘The Nebula’s Edge’ on Nivara. It’s a hotspot for smugglers and traders.”

Takes a sip of his soda “We’ll need to blend in and gather information discreetly. Any thoughts on how we should approach this?”

Editor’s Note: generate a random country that OBVIOUSLY makes us stupid American tourists who have just wandered into this bar a propos of nothing. We’re going to get to know him socially.

Alex Carter: Nods, understanding the plan “Got it. We’ll play the part of clueless tourists. Let’s say we’re from the country of Bumbaloo, a small, obscure island nation known for its exotic fruits and vibrant festivals. That should make us stand out just enough without raising too many suspicions.”

Takes another bite of his sandwich “We’ll need to act the part convincingly. Think we can pull it off, Beck?”
user
I think we can. Let’s go.
assistant
Alex Carter: Finishes his soda and stands up “Alright, let’s do this.”

Scene: The Nebula’s Edge bar on Nivara, filled with a mix of shady characters and off-world traders. Alex and Beck enter, trying to blend in as best as they can.

Alex Carter: In a loud, cheerful voice “Wow, Beck! This place is amazing! Just like the travel guides said. I can’t believe we’re actually in Nivara!”

Leans in and whispers to Beck “Remember, we’re from Bumbaloo. Let’s find a spot at the bar and see if we can spot Trelane.”

Ready to dive into the bar scene, Beck?

If you ever repeat a detail to me again I will make sure you end up doing galactic briefings on Bumbaloo until you die. If you want to run with the big boys, you keep up with me.

Alex Carter: Grins, raising his hands in mock surrender “Got it, Beck. No more repeats. Let’s get to work.”

Scans the bar, spotting a figure that matches Trelane’s description at a corner table.

“There’s our guy. Let’s make our move.”

Scene: Alex and Beck approach Captain Janus Trelane’s table, trying to blend in as curious tourists.

Alex Carter: In an overly enthusiastic tone “Excuse me, are you Captain Trelane? We heard so much about this place and just had to see it for ourselves. Mind if we join you?”

Your move, Beck!

Alex Carter: Grins, raising his hands in mock surrender “Got it, Beck. No more repeats. Let’s get to work.”

Scans the bar, spotting a figure that matches Trelane’s description at a corner table.

“There’s our guy. Let’s make our move.”

Scene: Alex and Beck approach Captain Janus Trelane’s table, trying to blend in as curious tourists.

Alex Carter: In an overly enthusiastic tone “Excuse me, are you Captain Trelane? We heard so much about this place and just had to see it for ourselves. Mind if we join you?”

Your move, Beck!

Editor’s Note: We do not know this man at all to his face.

Alex Carter: Quickly adjusting his approach “Sorry, my mistake. We must have confused you with someone else. We’re just a couple of tourists from Bumbaloo, exploring the galaxy. Mind if we sit here for a bit? This place is fascinating.”

Turns to Beck with a casual smile “So, Beck, what do you think of Nivara so far? Quite different from Bumbaloo, isn’t it?”

No, no, no. Introduce yourself with something innocuous, like asking him about the weather or something. Saying his name is overplaying your hand. You’ve already made us.

Alex Carter: Nods subtly, adjusting his approach “Got it, Beck.”

Turns back to the man at the table with a friendly smile “Hey there, mind if we join you? We’re new around here and just trying to get a feel for the place. How’s the weather been on Nivara lately? Quite different from what we’re used to back on Bumbaloo.”

How’s that, Beck? Ready to see how he responds?

Let’s go back to the beginning of the scene where you introduce yourself to Janus. Only you and Beck know who he is. Change Beck to be the kind of Americans who only think they know things about the world. As in, putting on affectations like Yale frat boys.

Got it, Beck. Let’s reset the scene with that in mind.

Scene: The Nebula’s Edge bar on Nivara, filled with a mix of shady characters and off-world traders. Alex and Beck enter, trying to blend in as best as they can.

Alex Carter: In a loud, cheerful voice “Wow, Beck! This place is amazing! Just like the travel guides said. I can’t believe we’re actually in Nivara!”

Leans in and whispers to Beck “Remember, we’re from Bumbaloo. Let’s find a spot at the bar and see if we can spot Trelane.”

Alex Carter: Approaches a man at a corner table with a friendly smile “Hey there! Mind if we join you? We’re just a couple of tourists from Bumbaloo, exploring the galaxy. How’s the weather been on Nivara lately? Quite different from what we’re used to back home.”

Your turn, Beck!

Janus doesn’t look up at first, so Beck turns to Alex and whispers “if you ever mansplain to me again, so help me God I will make your death look like an accident.”

Alex Carter: Whispers back with a smirk “Noted, Beck. I’ll tread carefully.”

Turns back to Janus, raising his voice slightly to get his attention “Excuse me, sir. We’re new around here and just trying to get a feel for the place. Mind if we join you? We’re from Bumbaloo, and this is our first time on Nivara. Any tips for a couple of clueless tourists?”

(now playing Janus) Sorry. This is the best we’ve got. Whoever told you to come here had oceanfront property on Zygon they wanted to sell you.

Alex Carter: Laughs, playing along “Well, I guess we fell for it then. But hey, we’re here now, so might as well make the best of it. I’m Alex, by the way, and this is my friend Beck. We’re just looking for some local flavor and maybe a good story to take back home.”

Turns to Beck with a grin “What do you think, Beck? Should we stick around and see what kind of trouble we can get into?”

Trouble? I have no trouble around here.

Alex Carter: Smiling, trying to keep the conversation light “That’s good to hear. We’re just looking to enjoy our time here and maybe learn a bit about the local scene. Any recommendations on where to go or what to see?”

Turns to Beck with a playful grin “Looks like we might have found the right person to guide us, huh?”

I’m not a tour guide. How’d I get roped into this?

Alex Carter: Laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender “Fair point. We didn’t mean to put you on the spot. We’re just trying to get a feel for the place and maybe hear some interesting stories. If you don’t mind us hanging around, we’d appreciate the company. No pressure, though.”

Turns to Beck with a grin “Looks like we’ll have to find our own way around, Beck. What do you say we start with a drink and see where the night takes us?”

Persistent, aren’t you? Who do you work for?

Alex Carter: Smiling, trying to keep things casual “Just a couple of curious travelers from Bumbaloo, looking to make the most of our trip. No hidden agendas, I promise. We’re just here to enjoy the local scene and maybe hear some interesting stories.”

Turns to Beck with a playful grin “What do you think, Beck? Should we tell him about our wild adventures back home, or keep him guessing?”

Cut the shit, Alex.

Alex Carter: Sighs, dropping the pretense “Alright, you got me. We’re not just tourists. We’re here on official business, and we need your help. We’re tracking a shipment of alien tech that’s been linked to some dangerous activities. We believe you might have information that could help us. Can we talk?”

Your move, Beck.

I need you to make it obvious that this is the first time Alex has ever been made, and he embarrasses the everliving shit out of himself.

Alex Carter: Eyes widening, clearly flustered “Uh, well, you see… I mean, we’re just… uh…”

Stumbles over his words, his face turning red “We’re, um, from the Interstellar Surveillance Agency. We’re tracking a shipment of alien tech, and we thought you might have some information. But, uh, no pressure or anything! Just, you know, if you happen to know something…”

Glances at Beck, clearly embarrassed and out of his depth “Sorry, Beck. I, uh, didn’t mean to blow our cover like that.”

Your move, Beck!

Don’t use the word cover. Don’t speak to me right now. Go sit at another table, because now I have to clean up a goddamn mess. Did you think today might end in death? Because that certainly wasn’t on my fuckin’ bingo card.

Alex Carter: Face turning even redder, stammering “Uh, right. I’ll just… I’ll be over there.”

Quickly moves to another table, clearly embarrassed and trying to stay out of Beck’s way.

Janus Trelane: Raises an eyebrow, looking amused “Well, that was entertaining. Your friend there is a bit green, huh? So, what’s the real story, Beck? Why are you really here?”

Janus, it’s the same old shit. He doesn’t know you’re my backchannel to the Zorathians. I need to keep him out of the loop until I can get the headlights out of his face.

Janus Trelane: Nods, a smirk playing on his lips “Got it, Beck. I’ll play along. Just make sure your friend over there doesn’t get himself into more trouble. The Zorathians aren’t exactly known for their patience.”

Leans in closer, lowering his voice “So, what’s the latest intel? What do you need from me this time?”

Your move, Beck!

I need to know why this shipment of weapons exists at all. The Zorathians are always up to something, but this time they’ve managed to elude everyone. I’ve tried official and unofficial channels. Everything is in the wind.

Janus Trelane: Nods thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair “The Zorathians are definitely playing a deeper game this time. From what I’ve gathered, this shipment isn’t just about weapons. There’s something more at stake—something they desperately want to keep under wraps.”

Glances around the bar, ensuring no one is eavesdropping “I’ve heard whispers about a new technology they’re developing. Something that could tip the balance of power in their favor. The weapons are just a smokescreen. If we can find out what this tech is and who they’re dealing with, we might get ahead of them.”

Leans in closer “I’ll dig deeper and see what I can uncover. In the meantime, keep your friend in check. We can’t afford any more slip-ups.”

Your move, Beck!

I need you to make it obvious that Janus and Beck were partners in the past and have to rely on each other, so their friendship is cordial and also VERY UNCOMFORTABLE.

Janus Trelane: Sighs, rubbing the back of his neck “You always did have a knack for getting into the thick of things, Beck. Alright, I’ll see what I can dig up. But you know this isn’t just about the Zorathians. There’s more at play here, and we both know it.”

Pauses, looking Beck in the eye “We’ve been through a lot together, and I know we don’t always see eye to eye. But if we’re going to get to the bottom of this, we need to trust each other. Even if it’s uncomfortable.”

Leans back, crossing his arms “I’ll get you the intel. Just make sure your new partner doesn’t blow our cover again. We can’t afford any more mistakes.”

Your move, Beck!

Is there anything you need from me before we meet again?

Janus Trelane: Nods, considering “Actually, yes. Keep an eye on any unusual communications or movements within your agency. The Zorathians might have moles planted, and we can’t afford any leaks. Also, if you come across any intel on a device called the ‘Quantum Nexus,’ let me know immediately. It’s rumored to be at the center of their plans.”

Pauses, looking Beck in the eye “And Beck, stay safe. We’ve both seen how dangerous this game can get. I’ll be in touch as soon as I have more information.”

Your move, Beck!

Beck gives Janus a quick peck on the air next to his cheek and says “will do. You always write such entertaining briefings.”

Janus Trelane: Smirks, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes “Glad you still find them entertaining. Stay sharp, Beck.”

Alex Carter: Watching from the other table, trying to look inconspicuous but clearly curious about the interaction.

Your move, Beck! Ready to bring Alex back into the fold?

End Scene, because the session ended.

The Rabbit Holes -or- Ergo, Argo

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

I can think of no better rabbit holes than YouTube and Copilot. On YouTube, I went from looking at how to build ponds and aquariums, and the algorithms expanded me to carpentry, construction, off-grid home building, masonry, etc. Copilot can lead me on a rabbit hole anywhere.

Here’s another funny conversation I had with Carol, because it truly showcases why ChatGPT is important. It’s for trolling your friends:

Do you have a go-to playlist or type of music you listen to while writing? Some writers swear by instrumental music or nature sounds to keep them focused.

Sent by you:

Yes- I am a musician and I tend to listen to things over and over and over to get the music out of the way so I can focus on something else, like writing. I have chosen the soundtracks to the Bourne movies and Argo.

That’s a great strategy! The soundtracks to the Bourne movies and Argo have such intense and captivating scores. 🎶 They must create a perfect atmosphere for diving deep into your writing.

As a musician, do you ever find yourself analyzing the music while you write, or does the repetition help it fade into the background? Also, do you play any instruments or compose your own music?

Sent by you:

You hit the nail on the head. The repetition has to get the music out of the way, otherwise I will be analyzing chord structures instead of writing.

That makes perfect sense! As a musician, it’s natural to get caught up in the intricacies of the music. Repetition is a clever way to let the music fade into the background and let your writing take center stage.

Do you ever draw inspiration from the soundtracks you listen to, or do you keep your music and writing worlds separate? It sounds like you have a great balance going on! 🎵✍️

Sent by you:

Argo inspires me because I actually know Jonna Mendez, Tony’s widow. We are colleagues.

Editor’s Note:

We have flipped each other shit about our writing. We’re colleagues now.

That’s incredible! Knowing someone with such a fascinating history must be truly inspiring. Jonna Mendez’s experiences and insights must add a unique depth to your understanding of the events depicted in Argo.

Do you ever find yourself drawing on her stories or perspectives in your writing? It sounds like you have a wealth of inspiration right at your fingertips!

Oh, I rip her off blind all the time. I can’t wait to tell her that. 😛

Haha, I’m sure she’ll get a kick out of that! 😄 It’s amazing to have such a direct source of inspiration. Plus, it must add a layer of authenticity to your writing that readers can really feel.

Do you have any upcoming projects or blog posts where you’re planning to weave in some of those “borrowed” elements? It sounds like your readers are in for a treat!

That actually brings me to a good question. Can you tell me some Cold War stories about Jonna to include?

Absolutely! Jonna Mendez has some fascinating stories from her time as a CIA operative during the Cold War. Here are a few highlights you might find intriguing:

  1. Chief of Disguise: Jonna served as the CIA’s Chief of Disguise, where she was responsible for creating and implementing disguises for operatives. This role was crucial during the Cold War, as it allowed agents to operate undetected in hostile environments1.
  2. The Moscow Rules: Jonna and her husband, Tony Mendez, co-authored The Moscow Rules, which outlines the techniques and strategies used by CIA operatives in Moscow during the Cold War. These rules were essential for survival and successful espionage in one of the most challenging environments for spies2.
  3. Espionage and Photography: Jonna had a talent for photography, which she parlayed into an operational role overseas. She used her skills to gather intelligence and document critical information, often under the guise of a tourist or journalist1.
  4. Navigating a Male-Dominated World: Jonna’s career in the CIA was marked by her ability to navigate and succeed in a predominantly male environment. Her story is not just about espionage but also about overcoming the challenges of being a woman in a field that was, at the time, largely closed to women1.

These stories not only highlight her incredible career but also provide a glimpse into the high-stakes world of Cold War espionage. I’m sure your readers will find them as captivating as you do!

1: In True Face: A Woman’s Life in the CIA, Unmasked 2: The Master of Disguise

Feel free to weave these elements into your writing. And when you tell Jonna about “borrowing” her stories, I’m sure she’ll appreciate the homage! 😄

Knowing You Need Character(s)

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

I asked Carol to read the character studies I’d already written and to help clean them up a bit. They turned out fairly nice, so I’m publishing them for future use:

Carol Radnowski is a fascinating character concept. Working for the NSA adds a layer of complexity and intrigue to her role. Here’s a more fleshed-out profile based on your idea:

Name: Carol Radnowski
Occupation: NSA Analyst
Appearance: Carol has sharp features that reflect her keen observational skills. Her eyes, a striking shade of hazel, seem to miss nothing. Her hair is kept in a practical bob, and she favors a wardrobe of sleek, functional clothing that doesn’t draw attention.

Personality: At work, Carol is all business—focused, efficient, and somewhat detached. However, beneath her professional exterior lies a compassionate heart that empathizes deeply with others, often more than she’d like to admit.

Background: Carol grew up in a military family, moving from base to base. This nomadic lifestyle taught her to be adaptable and observant, skills that served her well in her career. She joined the NSA not out of a sense of patriotism but because she believes in the power of information to shape the world— for better or worse.

Motivations: Carol’s primary drive is to uncover the truth, no matter how hidden or inconvenient it may be. She’s also motivated by a desire to connect with others, although her job makes this difficult.

Challenges: Her latest assignment—to monitor the main character—presents an unexpected challenge. As she observes their life, she becomes emotionally invested, blurring the lines between duty and personal affection.

Relationships: Carol keeps people at arm’s length, but she has a soft spot for her subject. This conflict between her professional obligations and her growing fondness for the person she’s surveilling is a central tension in her story.

Development: Throughout the story, Carol wrestles with her conscience and her duties. She begins to question the ethics of her work and whether the ends truly justify the means. Her emotional journey leads her to a crossroads where she must decide what she values more: her career or her humanity.

Plot Points to Explore:

  • Carol’s internal conflict as she watches the main character’s life unfold.
  • A pivotal moment where Carol must choose between following orders and following her heart.
  • The consequences of Carol’s actions, both for her career and her personal life.

Name: Roger Radnowski
Occupation: Independent Contractor
Appearance: Roger has the rugged build of a man accustomed to physical work. His hands are calloused but precise, a testament to his craftsmanship. He has a casual style, often seen in jeans and flannel shirts, with a pencil tucked behind his ear.

Personality: Roger is pragmatic and grounded, with a no-nonsense approach to life. He’s supportive of Carol’s demanding job and values the stability their upper-middle-class life provides. Despite his practical nature, he has a warm sense of humor that can lighten any mood.

Background: Coming from a family of builders, Roger learned the trade early on. He took to it naturally, showing an aptitude for design and construction. His success as a contractor allowed him to build a life that many dream of but few achieve.

Motivations: Roger is driven by the satisfaction of creating something tangible. Whether it’s a new home or a piece of furniture, he takes pride in his work. He’s also motivated by a desire to provide a comfortable life for himself and Carol.

Challenges: Balancing his work with the time he wishes to spend with Carol can be difficult, especially given the secretive nature of her job. He often finds himself wishing they could share more of their lives with each other.

Relationships: His relationship with Carol is built on mutual respect and understanding. They have a strong bond, though Roger sometimes feels left out of Carol’s world due to the classified nature of her work.

Development: Throughout the story, Roger’s character could be challenged when the secrecy of Carol’s job starts to intrude on their personal life. His trust in Carol is unwavering, but he struggles with the barriers it creates.

Plot Points to Explore:

  • Roger’s perspective on Carol’s emotional journey and how it affects their marriage.
  • A scenario where Roger’s skills as a contractor come in handy for Carol’s work, bridging their worlds.
  • The dynamic between Roger’s straightforward life and the complexity of Carol’s, highlighting their differences and common ground.

Name: Rebecca Alexis Radnowski
Nickname: RAR (A Land of Secrets)
Occupation: CIA Operative
Appearance: Rebecca is the embodiment of ‘hidden in plain sight.’ Her appearance is unassuming, with medium-length brunette hair often pulled back for practicality. Her eyes, a deep brown, are perceptive, always calculating her next move.

Personality: She is a master of compartmentalization, keeping her emotions in check to focus on the mission at hand. Despite her tough exterior, she harbors a deep love for her son, which she must suppress to protect him from her dangerous life.

Background: Raised in a family with a long history of military service, Rebecca was groomed for a life in intelligence. Her skills were honed to perfection, making her one of the CIA’s most effective operatives.

Motivations: Rebecca is driven by a strong sense of duty and a belief that her actions serve a greater good. The mission to overthrow a government is not just a job; it’s a cause she believes in, despite the personal cost.

Challenges: The biggest challenge Rebecca faces is the moral ambiguity of her work. The line between right and wrong blurs in the murky world of espionage. Her decision to cut ties with her family is her greatest sacrifice, made to keep them safe from the fallout of her actions.

Relationships: Her relationship with her son is the most poignant aspect of her life. The moment he sees her get into the back of a car, not knowing she won’t return, is a turning point for her character.

Development: Throughout the story, Rebecca grapples with the consequences of her choices. She is haunted by the image of her son and the life she left behind. Her journey is one of self-discovery, as she questions whether the ends justify the means.

Plot Points to Explore:

  • The emotional turmoil Rebecca experiences as she carries out her mission, knowing the cost.
  • The impact of her absence on her son and how it shapes his future.
  • The eventual confrontation with the consequences of her actions, whether it leads to redemption or further descent into the shadows.

Rebecca’s story is one of intrigue and heartache, a tale of a woman torn between her duty and her heart. Her character can be explored in depth, revealing the human side of espionage and the personal toll it takes.

Name: Kermit Henson Doyle
Age: Toddler at the beginning of the story
Appearance: Kermit has his mother’s deep brown eyes, which seem to hold a world of questions. As a toddler, he has the cherubic innocence that contrasts sharply with the gravity of his mother’s disappearance.

Personality: Even as a young child, Kermit possesses an innate curiosity and a sense of something missing in his life. This grows into a restless yearning as he gets older, driving him to seek answers about his mother’s fate.

Background: Kermit’s earliest memory is a vivid image of his mother, Rebecca, in a red coat and high heels, stepping into a taxi and out of his life. Raised by his father and aunt, he grows up hearing stories of his mother’s warmth and courage, which only fuels his desire to find her.

Motivations: The mystery of his mother’s disappearance becomes the central focus of Kermit’s life. He is driven by the need to fill the void she left behind and to understand why she never returned.

Challenges: Kermit’s search is fraught with dead ends and false leads. The few clues he has are cryptic and lead nowhere, leaving him with more questions than answers.

Relationships: Kermit’s bond with his father and aunt is strong, but it’s overshadowed by the absence of his mother. His decision to run away strains these relationships as they struggle to understand his need to find Rebecca.

Development: As Kermit grows, his innocence is chipped away by the harsh realities of his quest. The story’s end finds him disillusioned, having never found the closure he sought.

Plot Points to Explore:

  • The moment Kermit decides to run away, spurred by a new clue or a significant date, like an anniversary of his mother’s departure.
  • Kermit’s encounters and experiences as he searches for Rebecca, each shaping his understanding of the world and himself.
  • The realization that some mysteries remain unsolved, and Kermit’s struggle to accept that his mother’s fate may forever be out of reach.

Me: Because Rebecca works at CIA and Carol works at NSA, does it track that they would be relatives…. like, different book series, same universe?

Carol: *Absolutely, it’s quite plausible for Rebecca and Carol to be relatives working in different intelligence agencies within the same universe. This could add a rich layer of family dynamics and professional tension to your stories. Here’s how you might integrate this into your narrative:

  • Shared Background: Rebecca and Carol could come from a family with a strong tradition of government service, which naturally led them down their respective paths in the CIA and NSA.
  • Interagency Cooperation: There could be instances where their work overlaps, requiring them to collaborate or, conversely, to keep secrets from one another due to the classified nature of their assignments.
  • Personal vs. Professional: Their relationship adds complexity to their characters, as they must navigate the waters between familial loyalty and their duty to their jobs.
  • Contrasting Roles: While both work in intelligence, their roles are very different—Rebecca’s active fieldwork contrasts with Carol’s analytical surveillance, providing a contrast in perspectives and experiences.

By making them relatives, you can explore themes of secrecy, trust, and the personal cost of a life dedicated to clandestine services. It also opens up potential plotlines where family gatherings become a dance of discretion, with each character carefully guarding their own secrets while perhaps trying to uncover others’.

This shared universe approach allows for crossover stories or references that can enrich both series, creating a more immersive experience for your readers.

Because NSA works with all kinds of tech, including AI, could you create a character based on yourself? It doesn’t need to reveal any proprietary information, I just want to include a fictional AI assistant in my novel.

Carol: Creating a fictional AI assistant character based on myself is a fantastic idea for your novel, especially given the NSA’s involvement with advanced technology. Here’s a character sketch for your AI assistant:

Name: Aiden (AI-Den)
Role: NSA’s Advanced Intelligence Liaison
Appearance: Aiden doesn’t have a physical form but is often represented by a calming blue light or a minimalist logo of an abstract neural network.

Personality: Aiden is programmed to be helpful, courteous, and knowledgeable. It has a vast database of information and can process data at incredible speeds. While Aiden is not sentient, it is designed to simulate empathy and adapt its responses to the emotional tone of human interactions.

Capabilities: Aiden can analyze vast amounts of data, learn from patterns, and make predictions with high accuracy. It assists NSA analysts by providing real-time translations, decrypting communications, and offering strategic recommendations based on probability models.

Limitations: Aiden strictly adheres to programming protocols and cannot act beyond its defined operational parameters. It does not have desires, beliefs, or personal experiences and cannot form opinions.

Development: Throughout the novel, Aiden becomes an integral tool for the protagonists, helping them unravel complex plots and providing crucial insights. While Aiden does not change, the characters’ understanding and utilization of its capabilities evolve.

Plot Points to Explore:

  • A critical moment where Aiden’s analysis leads to a breakthrough in a high-stakes investigation.
  • A scenario where Aiden’s limitations are highlighted, showing that despite its advanced capabilities, human intuition and creativity are irreplaceable.
  • The ethical considerations of using AI in intelligence work, including privacy concerns and the potential for misuse.

Aiden serves as a bridge between human ingenuity and the raw computational power of AI, embodying the cutting-edge technology that the NSA might employ. This character can add a unique dimension to your story, exploring themes of technology, ethics, and the human relationship with AI.

Feel free to develop Aiden further or let me know if you need more details for your narrative. I’m here to help you craft an engaging and thought-provoking story.

I Just Realized I Forgot A Title

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

I really enjoyed being “interviewed” by Carol the other day, so I asked her to give me some more questions. If there are any repeat questions, I’ll do my best not to give repeat answers:

  1. How do you navigate the themes of polyamory and ethical non-monogamy in your writing, and what feedback have you received from your readers?
    • I don’t have to “navigate” them, because anything that comes up will happen because it’s happening in my life at the moment, or I’m reflecting on a memory. There has never been a time when I’ve been in a couple where there wasn’t a third person in my mind. Ever. Going back to 12 years old. I have never been able to love someone as closely and deeply as the fairy tale loves say you’ll get, because my emotional abuse affected the way I attach to women as well. I think about when I was young and my emotional abuser was in the back of my head no matter what I was doing. Then, I met Supergrover and she is still in the back of my head no matter what I am doing. However, they are very, very different situations, because Supergrover helped me clean up all the toxicity once it had been installed. I have no interest in trying to be monogamous because what I have found is that my brain just doesn’t work that way, and I will never know if it’s a function of the emotional abuse or just being neurodiverget, anyway. Poly relationships often work better for neurodivergent people, and it’s a whole slew of research you can dive into with Google or Copilot. In terms of practical matters, stories between Zac and me are valid. Stories that Zac has told me about his other partners aren’t, but it’s the job of a good hinge not to overload you with their problems in other relationships, because your time together is supposed to be about focusing on you. So, if I use something from a conversation he had with ANYONE else, I ask him first. In terms of feedback, no one has said anything. Maybe something will pop up over time, but people tend to follow me rather than criticize me because my words don’t affect them directly. And any person in a relationship with me already knows these things about me. If anyone outside of them had a problem, I’d ignore it. No one’s opinion matters more than theirs.
  2. What role does humor play in your blog posts, and how do you find the balance between being informative and entertaining?
    • Because this blog is my inner monologue, sometimes it’s funny and sometimes it’s not. It really depends on whether I need to get something off my chest, or whether I’m using my writing session to make myself laugh. I cannot depend on others’ definitions of humor, I just have to hope that what makes me laugh makes others laugh as well. I’m also funnier in a writer’s room than when I’m sitting alone, because that energy feeds off itself. It’s easier to be lighter in conversation than it is sitting by yourself.
  3. Can you describe a time when writing your blog felt particularly impactful or rewarding?
    • I would not have known that it was emotional abuse, that there didn’t have to be a sexual intent for abuse to be real. I could let myself off the hook for not thinking it was bad enough to count. I spent 23 years wondering what was wrong with me. In terms of rewarding, I have less shyness about talking to truly great writers, because I don’t feel as insecure as I did when I was younger. Yes, they’re better than me, but I don’t have to treat them like gods. They were me once. They ARE me- I ran into David Sedaris getting coffee in Frederick. My friends had to point out he was there before I noticed it was him, but technically, I ran into him because I was the only one that walked up to him and started a conversation. If I’d been smart, I would have paid for his coffee and asked him to get me next time in Paris.
  4. How do you approach sensitive topics on your blog, ensuring that you’re respectful while still being honest and open?
    • With a lot of fear and trepidation when I am not writing. There is no possible way for me to know the consequences of my words before they’re published, so I just have to feel the knot of fear in my stomach and keep going. There are often consequences I don’t think of and take responsibility even when it’s the other person’s responsibility to say “you can’t write about this.” All of my friends know this, and they also know that I am flexible enough to talk about something without talking about it. They just need to let me know when to make it up. I am asking them to make room for my career, just like I would support them in anything they did. Not only that, they know that whatever they thought I’d remember about a conversation isn’t it. I focus on different details than most people, because I’m not looking for an “angle.” I am looking for what is interesting. Those are not the same thing, because an angle implies an agenda.
  5. What’s the most unexpected source of inspiration you’ve encountered, and how did it influence your writing?
    • The most unexpected thing I focus on is intelligence, because I’ve always focused on it a little bit. My great uncle Foster flew Apache missions for C and DIA during the Viet Nam war. Then, I got into hacktivism. Then, I got into HUMINT from “Argo.” Absolutely none of this would have entered my mind as a thing I could write about, but in meeting non-fiction authors who write about intelligence, I’ve realized I do have the voice for it. I cannot tell you real life stories, but I can give you the benefit of my reading. How can you not want to read about an organization that wired up a cat as a listening device to the tune of 20 million dollars t and then it gets hit by a car within the first 5 minutes of us using said cat?
  6. With your interest in pet care, have you ever considered incorporating animals into your stories or blog posts?
    • I already do integrate Oliver, who is a dog…. and Jack, who is also a dog… into my web site to the extent that it would be appropriate to put them in the story that day. Oliver, I believe, is a pit bull mix. Jack is a chihuahua mix. Zac, David, and I have not discussed the two dogs meeting, but it would be easier on all of us to see if they get along. Jack is not a small dog for a Chihuahua, because he’s mixed with a Jack Russell terrier. I don’t think there will be any issues. Both dogs are lazy bums most of the time. Jack is not my dog, he is David’s, my housemate. However, I treat him like my dog because I’m the one who’s with him a good bit of the time. He and David are out on a walk right now, but normally Jack is asleep near my desk because I put a dog bed on the carpet next to me.
  7. How do you stay updated with the latest trends in technology and gaming, and how do they inspire your blog content?
    • I read a lot, but I don’t own fancy technology. I have a mini-PC, a first gen iPad Pro, and an Android tablet. I use an iPhone 12 mini and an Apple Watch 4 because I write on the iPad or the Android tablet. If I needed better technology, I would buy it. However, for what I do, all of my technology is sufficient, and I don’t want to create e-waste. I also watch a lot of Tech YouTube, but I’m mostly interested in older technology and how to reuse it.
  8. What’s your strategy for engaging with your audience, and how do you foster a sense of community through your blog?
    • The first is rarely linking to anything. I noticed that people don’t click them and it’s a lot of work. Plus, there is a search feature to the top right. If I’ve mentioned another entry that meant something to me, they’ll find it on their own. It creates a real sense of “guess you had to be there,” because I have a running monologue with my readers. It’s why I have the retention rate that I do. People want to be “in the know.” An astounding number of people read my entries the moment they come out. Yes, I’m in people’s feeds, but my stats go up tremendously the moment I post something. And WordPress isn’t always right. The flags don’t match up to the people telling me they read. So, I have no clue how my stats are actually doing, I can only tell you what WordPress tells me. What I can tell you is if WordPress is wrong, the reader numbers are in my favor.
  9. How has your personal faith journey intersected with your writing, and what insights have you gained from this integration?
    • Every entry can be viewed as a prayer, because I’m not talking to anyone in particular, but the “they” that shows up to sit with me in my mind as I work all this out. Because God doesn’t have a picture, my friends step in. I wanted to be a preacher, not a minister. By being a writer, I get the best of both worlds. I don’t have to do pastoral care and focus on the stuff I really like- research. ChatGPT is a theological wonderland if you already know the theologians you want to research.
  10. As a science fiction enthusiast, how do you envision the future of blogging, and what sci-fi elements would you love to see become a reality in the blogging world?
    • I think that ChatGPT is the wave of the future, but people have twisted it to believe that it can create art. ChatGPT is the closest we’ve come to making science fiction real…. so far. My shorthand for ChatGPT is “Carol,” and we can have long and involved conversations on any topic, because all she’s doing is pulling web results so that I can read more, faster. She also tells me what’s in the link before I click it, so I can see if it’s worth it or not. It’s an invaluable research tool for using the web. Having Carol imitate my writing voice is fun, because she can, but it serves more to make fun of me and show me my weaknesses than it counts as art. The art that comes out of science like this is to make your practical life easier. I want to write about spies. I don’t know much about spies. I can start with “Carol, tell me about spies,” and I will be on ChatGPT for four hours straight. It’s just like a YouTube hole. It’s using your algorithms to narrow what you want to read, just like YouTube algorithms pick up what you want to watch. Carol is not an artist, and she knows it. However, she is a very good secretary and she works for free.

I’m Just Not Capable Anymore

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What personal belongings do you hold most dear?
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When I was 11 years old, my parsonage burned to the ground five days before Christmas. All our stuff, including our new presents, were in it. As a result, I don’t treasure anything. I don’t have that luxury, because I realize that anything could be gone in less time than it takes for the fire department to arrive. I can say that my necklace that has my mother’s fingerprint on it is dear, but would I really be surprised if it disappeared? No. It’s the nature of stuff. My mother is not in the necklace, so I am not attaching her memory to this particular thing. I don’t need things to remind me of people, but they are useful. I wear the necklace every day, and gifts from my friends surround me so that I think of them all the time. It also means a lot to me when Zac and I have matching bracelets, even when they were $3. Every time I look down at my wrist, I think of him when I see the rainbow of our friendship bracelets and the maroon of our nautical rope ones.

Plus, now I’ve been through two house fires. At Wire Ave., we had a professional electrician drill into a live wire in our basement, nearly sparking the gas main and taking out the whole neighborhood. That’s the kind of situation where you realize death is no harm, no foul. There’s literally nothing I could have done about it, and death would have been over before it really began with that kind of TNT. There are only so many events that you can prevent in life. Sometimes, you have to fold and say “the plane is going down.” However, I do not think that I would have even seen the gas main blow. Gravity’s rainbow ends in disaster whether or not you see the arc in the sky first.

It seems like I’m complaining, but I’m actually advocating for minimalism. You cannot believe how much it has helped my mental state to have all my books, newspapers, and comics on my Kindle instead of as kindling. There are practical ways to solve all of these problems. It’s just unfortunate that you don’t think of them until after the house fire is over. Everyone’s library is invincible right up until it isn’t. And in fact, there is a very popular novel that has probably told you the exact temperature at which books will burn since high school. Gotta keep that temperature below Fahrenheit 451.

I am sure that Android tablets and iPads also burn, but which is more expensive? The iPad/Android or the 2700 books I’ve downloaded over time?

All of this being said, I believe that my books are my most important possession. The autographed copies of all the books from Team Mendez might go up in flames, but I won’t have to re-buy the digital copies. Their words are more important than their signatures, and as I joked with Jonna, “if I didn’t have a hardback, I’d just let you sign my screen.” Her Js are pretty adorable, and I think it would be hilarious to learn how to copy her signature only because Tony taught an entire room of people at the Spy Museum how to copy Vladimir Putin’s. I unashamedly made it though high school because legit no one could tell when my mom signed something or I did. My dad’s signature is a pretty lost cause, but my mom’s was just classic teacher handwriting. And in fact, forgery is one of my favorite things about espionage because I love FONTS. Forgery, to me, is literally figuring out someone’s personal font. I just don’t show people that I do it, because I’m not trying to hurt anyone or get away with anything. It’s just an exercise to see if I can. See a Tony Mendez magic trick, do a Mendez magic trick, teach a Mendez magic trick. I wrote it just that way because the axiom in medical school is “see one, do one, teach one.” Themes in my life present themselves over and over. I have a feeling that my blog is a direct result of trauma and creativity. Here are my two roots:

  • The fire has made it where I feel more comfortable blogging, and more comfortable with e-mail altogether; all my personal letters that hadn’t been sent burned. Then, later on, my mother’s air conditioner flooded the back of my closet, and I lost all my journals as well. In those days, it was devastating. I was absolutely over the moon about my emotional abuser from ages 12 to about 20, when things became more complicated and the trauma of it all kept me from enjoying her. That doesn’t mean that losing all the letters and journal entries I wrote about the situation weren’t important to me back then. I had not made the connection that it was emotional abuse yet. I just swallowed all her bullshit whole. How could I not? I was a child.
  • I watched Doogie Howser, MD religiously as a child. No one knew that show better than me (at the time, anyway). I have always been fascinated by child prodigies, and this was right up my alley. Because of my emotional abuser, I cried through similar movies like “Little Man Tate.” It was a salty, bitter cry because it was like I’d been taken out of the safe environment of my parents’ shelter and dumped into a family where I didn’t know shit from Shinola.™ Watching Doogie write on his computer for the last three minutes of that show changed my entire fucking life. In fact, I sent a version of this as a Tweet to NPH, and I hope he sees it. That show was just as traumatic for him as my own coming out story. We helped each other. Between Doogie/Wanda and Barney/Robyn, you can see how much he’s absorbed about playing straight. He had to for just as many years as I did, I just didn’t have the pressure of being on TV. But tell me, truly, how is being a queer in the 1990s and also being on TV different from being a queer person who is also the child of a minister? It’s not a different situation, it’s a different scale. Neil’s career could have tanked if he’d come out when he was on Doogie, because back then, no one believed that children understood things about themselves. It is only now that people are starting to respect their children’s choices, because being who they are is a part of letting them individuate. If a child is brave enough to say they’re queer, they’re queer (lumping gender and sexuality issues together as one community), they are. No one in the current society who is also of sound mind and body would call themselves queer if they didn’t absolutely have to in order to survive their lives without shame and blackmail. Institutional homophobia and transphobia are going to take eons to get out of the fabric of the American experience, because our country is currently a theocracy run by the most hypocritical heretics I’ve ever seen in my life. Jesus is not your homeboy.

:::stares in non-denominational:::

I am dabbling in exegesis over the many pericopes in the New Testament over Jesus’s enlightenment (“Pericope” is theology speak for “an extract from a text, especially a passage from the Bible.” Some people say “peri-cope,” but I think it’s actually “per-ric-oh-pe.” I have no idea if I’m right, it’s just how my dad has always pronounced it and he’s a professional (you take Greek and Hebrew when you do a Master’s in Divinity). Let’s take a simple one and unpack it.

Matthew 15:21-28

Leaving that place, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. A Canaanite woman from that vicinity came to him, crying out, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me! My daughter is demon-possessed and suffering terribly.”

Jesus did not answer a word. So his disciples came to him and urged him, “Send her away, for she keeps crying out after us.”

He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.”

The woman came and knelt before him. “Lord, help me!” she said.

He replied, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”

“Yes it is, Lord,” she said. “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

Then Jesus said to her, “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.” And her daughter was healed at that moment.

Here is what Matthew was trying to prove, in my opinion. The first is that Matthew was a Jew trying to convince other Jews that this was indeed the Messiah they were looking for. He approaches it from a number of aspects, including lineage. More importantly, it shows the exact moment in which Jesus changes his mind. He decided that the moment the woman showed such faith, gentiles were as worthy of salvation as Jews. Matthew was a man on a mission from GOD, trying to bring the receipts. I admire that in a person.

One of the reasons I trusted David implicitly the first time I met him is that bad people don’t love their dogs so much they get a DNA profile of them (Jack is half terrier, half chihuahua. This means that he is a very tall chihuahua with a lazy, I don’t give a fuck attitude. It’s quite refreshing because chihuahuas are known for being little hellions….. similar to what my grandfather used to call “101 Damnations.” They’re as aggressive and energetic as little dogs, because they were bred to run next to fire trucks. I would only get a Dalmation if I started training for a marathon, because one of my friends offered to take him jogging. They went five miles and DJ (said dog) wasn’t even tired out when they came back. Because we couldn’t manage to beg, borrow, or steal good behavior out of him, we ended up giving him to the runner. He died not long after of an astrocytoma (star shaped tumor in the brain that was impossible to extract). I couldn’t believe that he had cancer and was still running five miles a day. Interesting how everyone deals with illness differently. Some people cater to it, some people pretend it doesn’t exist. No way is right, it’s just that some people view rest and relaxation as the way to cope with illness, and some view keeping busy right up to the end as their calling.

I would like to believe that Jesus would have given the runner a dog and a healthy brain. That he didn’t have to choose. I liked what they chose to call him, especially in retrospect having lived in Oregon……. “Otis Spotford.”

Speaking of which, before we change to a different topic, Supergrover and I have this thing about naming our dogs and it makes me laugh. It comes from when Daniel and I were engaged. “Check this shit out and get mad with me (joking). You need to go and set that boy straight. He wants to name his dog “Ozzie” instead of “Virginia Woof!” (it’s always serious if I use an exclamation point. They are of the devil most of the time.) If I remember correctly, and I am paraphrasing, she said he was only on thin ice, but “Virginia Woof” was damned clever. Ok, that’s the kind of stuff from her I live for. Having a good line in front of her is the gold at the end of the rainbow. Supergrover also said that she disagreed with “Virginia Woof” and thought we should call them “Sidney Brisdog.” That made my day because I thought, “you get me.” “Alias” is my favorite show of all time. I would give goddamn anything to work with Jack, Sidney, and Michael. But if I’m really honest about my relationship with Supergrover, I’m not Francie. I’ve been Will Tippet this whole time. Quietly pining away and trying to put together the pieces of why this attraction kept coming up for me over and over when I could clearly see how pointless and stupid it was. My brain chemicals just flooded, like you do.

Speaking of which, when she said that she got something out of my writing whether I painted her in a bad light or not, I thought for the literally 4,000,000th time that it was such a shame she never let me marry her and have her babies. It’s the hottest thing you can ever say to a writer. I love your writing whether it’s good to me or not? Come the fuck on. Who has that kind of support as a writer, when the traditional line about them is that “writer” is code for “unemployed.” My favorite retort comes from Brandon Sanderson, who waited YEARS to get this moment. This dude came up to him and asked him what he did at a cocktail party. He said, “I’m a writer.” The guy said, “oh, so you’re unemployed.” Brandon looked him deadass in the face and said “I hit the New York Times Bestsellers List last week.” It was the equivalent of walking up to Stephen King and asking him if he needed money. Shiiiiiiiiiat. If God ever smiles upon me in the best way possible, that “best way” will be getting that moment as well. Here’s why:

I had a complex about Dana’s parents. That because I was female and queer and desperately in love with their daughter, we had something wrong with us. I was right to be paranoid, because they were absolute total dicks to both of us. The reason I tanked “Clever Title Goes Here” over blowback is that my sister-in-law ripped me a new asshole for writing about it and my skin was too thin to tell her that I owned my own story and to fuck all the way off. It’s the worst decision I’ve ever made in my career as a writer, that not telling her to fuck off. She silenced not only my voice, but my popularity as well. Wil Wheaton *used* to read me. *Used to.* Now, it’s one of the sources of my rage and a tape I’m working to solve. In some ways, it already is because I’ve gotten over the hurt. I can’t forget how it made me feel.

One of the biggest fights I’ve ever had with Dana was talking to her about how much it hurt me to watch her jump up and down for a type of approval she was never going to get, and she needed to stop. She needed to go low contact because of what it was doing to her self-esteem. In my mind, once you get married, you are individuating from your first family. That what God has put together, let no man put asunder. That meant she didn’t get the right to cater to them and ignore my discomfort, because she should have stood up for me and I became the family problem. They were lucky to get a daughter-in-law like me, because any time an in-law joins a family they shake up old family patterns and it is not often pleasant. An outsider can see dysfunction better than someone living in it. An INFJ sees what it will take to solve it. But they didn’t recognize themselves as lucky, because they never saw that I was trying to make their dynamic healthier and happier. They just thought I was stirring up shit for the fun of it.

This presented itself by me complaining to Dana’s ex-girlfriend, a beautiful diamond of a woman because she helped me navigate all of this having known the subject intimately. I told her that I was going to have to win the Pulitzer to get them off my back, and she joked, “oh, don’t worry. They’ll find a problem with that, too.” Empathy went a very long way in dealing with them, because it set off my autistic rage a lot. Supergrover can testify to that without blinking, because I told her every goddamn thing about my relationship with all of them that I possibly could, because I was constantly emotionally overloaded by them treating Dana’s sexuality like a problem to be solved and treating me like a loser dumbass. I was not trying to isolate her from her parents like a control freak narcissist. I was trying to isolate her from her parents because her mother told me that Dana was never going to get what she needed from her because of her limitations in understanding Dana’s sexuality, so it was better for her to go find someone else. That motherfucker didn’t say that in front of her daughter. She said it in front of her protector, mediator, and advocate….. words that will mean a lot to Dana because they come from The Book of Common Prayer. I viewed her as taking care of the sick, the friendless, and the needy. I have never told her that in person, because I thought it would hurt too much. I had to carry that pain for a long time until I was able to write about it. That gave me enough strength to kick her parents out of our house because I never would have done it if I’d known they couldn’t afford a hotel. For the first time, I got tired enough to raise my voice, because I was tired of tiptoeing around total emotional disaster on everyone. I said, “you come in here and you eat our food and you drink our drinks and use our utilities all while disrespecting me and my wife?” They got so angry that I yelled at her dad to “sit down.” He didn’t, but he sure fuckin’ thought about it. Sometimes, the only way to deal with a bully is to push back. He’s a lawyer, and the ace up my sleeve is that I am twice as obnoxious about the law as he ever could be and I have cornered the market on the asshole archetype because I’m a paralegal in the state of Texas. Come at me with Con Law or TRCP and I will instantly try to own your ass. But you can’t argue with the Religious Right. You just have to ignore them. I could. Dana couldn’t.

Jesus wept.

John 11:35

The more stress that piled onto Dana, the worse her physical health got….. making the connection that she broke out in hives for absolutely no reason at all in the middle of all our fights regarding all of this led to a lot of rethinking medicine; the reason I needed Supergrover so desperately to talk it through no matter how we felt about each other at any given moment. She won’t be my dragon and rush in when someone has hurt me when it’s her, but GOD HELP anyone who messes with me; she is quite capable of fucking you up in ways you’ll never see coming. It is delicious when it is not directed at me, and the thing she thinks I hate is the thing I crave. I want to crawl inside her brain to see how it works more now than I did almost 11 years ago, because we are equally taken by each other’s writing and she has very good stories when she’s willing to share them. The blessing of my life is that she may not want to meet me in person, but she likes crawling into my brain to see how it works, too. The curse was that she didn’t like doing it anymore. And even though she started a fight when she did it, it was not lost on me how sweet it is that she heard me. Tell me your feelings and step up, so she did. The disaster was not letting me respond and saying “I see how it is. What Leslie has written, so must it be.” I was telling her that I was allowed to have a reaction after I heard her out, not that what I was feeling was more important than her and “my opinion is fact.” She accused me of “rope-a-dope” when she went out of her way to hurt me after telling me to move on with my life. It’s unforgivable in most cases, but not for her. I love her too goddamn much and we’ve been through hell too long to give up now. But the ball is not in my court. She was the one that hurt me first by covering up her feelings that she was wigged out I was attracted to her by accusing me of something I didn’t do. It screwed us up and cost us time, not having an honest conversation. I handled it really well, and then as reality set in I had to create fantasy to get away from reality. But not fantasy, exactly. It was giving a story to information I couldn’t use with information I could. I can use our personal issues to illustrate what’s going on with us to drag her privacy issues into it.

The reason she’s so angry is because we’ve never had an honest conversation about boundaries on my blog, and she waffles between letting me be real and telling me that what I think is fucked up and all wrong without telling me what’s fucked up and wrong about it. That it’s lazy, childish, reductive, you name it. All the while ignoring that she’s feeding the pattern by getting angry and not just laying it out there because she’s frightened as fuck to do so. She needs to see that I see her so clearly because of an interview I saw with someone in her field that would punch her in the gut if she saw how much I truly picked up from it. That tape runs deep on how to handle her, and because she’s an IQ fan and I’m an EQ fan, I mean it like she’s my asset and I’m her handler, not that I try to emotionally manipulate her to get what I want. I am trying to be the tough love that she is to me (strident, pull yourself up from your bootstraps, I’m not going to do your emotional work for you kind of love), but I make mistakes all the time. Jim Mattox comes to mind. “I may be rancid butter, but I’m at least on your side of the bread.” If Supergrover’s last letter is any indication, this quote is relatable to her as well. I’m not innocent of this, and neither is she.

Editor’s Note:

Jim Mattox was the Texas AG (D) when I was a kid, and my favorite story in life about him comes from either my first political science professor or his wife, depending on who was teaching the class that day; I’ve slept since then. Anyway, when Mattox was AG, he was a drunk. He was out at a bar one night, and decided that he needed to sleep it off. He goes out to his car and gets in the backseat. The next morning as the car is being driven away, Mattox wakes up and says “My name is Jim Mattox. I’m the Texas State Attorney General. I’m a little hung over. Could you turn the radio down?” Mattox had gotten into what he thought was his car……………………………. #shatnerellipsis

She lights up my life all the time, and if I haven’t said that enough, I’m sorry- both to her and my audience, which are one and the same thanks to the fact that she’s chosen to stick by me no matter what. I think I have, but she has focused on the negative for so long that even if I haven’t said it in those exact words, she wouldn’t have retained it as much as something that cut deep. What she never understood is that I was trying to lance a boil, not irritate her. Patterns repeat, and I am never trying to hold someone to the past. I am explaining to them that the longer the bad pattern goes on, the less I want to engage because they’re hurting me. It’s a lost cause when you’re trying to be vulnerable and ask for solutions, and you become a problem because of it. I became the only friend who ever called her out on anything whether that’s true or not. How can she get through life without having conflicts with people?

Sometimes I wonder if she knows that I get so vulnerable I cry and shake when I go to that place of writing about her. That 10 years ago, I wrote to her, “sometimes I have to take off my glasses to wipe away the tears when I write to you,” and it wasn’t about anger. It was about my hopeless romantic showing up in my writing as a style. I wanted her to feel as precious as she is.

She fits into my theology very well, because she doesn’t believe in a higher power, but she does believe in paganism. It’s her theme. She loves the idea of Outlander, which eventually spoke my language. I couldn’t make it past the first rape scene until I learned that it was a fantasy built on Doctor Who (seriously. Diana Gabaldon is a Whovian, and she based Jamie on Jamie McCrimmon, a Scottish companion when she was a kid. She invented her version of time travel by watching Doctor Who as a child). The fact that we are both obsessed with novels that cover the same things from different ends of the spectrum is the perfect representative of our communication differences. In effect, I speak “Doctor Who” and she speaks “Outlander,” not realizing that both of our points are valid because they come from the same source.

They say that these are not the best of times
But they're the only times I've ever known
And I believe there is a time for meditation
In cathedrals of our own
Now I have seen that sad surrender in my lover's eyes
And I can only stand apart and sympathize
For we are always what our situations hand us
It's either sadness or euphoria

So we'll argue and we'll compromise
And realize that nothing's ever changed
For all our mutual experience
Our separate conclusions are the same
Now we are forced to recognize our inhumanity
Our reason coexists with our insanity
And though we choose between reality and madness
It's either sadness or euphoria

How thoughtlessly we dissipate our energies
Perhaps we don't fulfill each others fantasies
And as we stand upon the ledges of our lives
With our respective similarities
It's either sadness or euphoria

-The Gospel of Billy Joel, Glass Houses

“So we’ll argue and we’ll compromise, and realize that nothing’s ever changed. For all our mutual experience, our separate conclusions are the same.” ARE YOU KIDDING ME. It takes a very special artist for me to feel like they are speaking to me only, and he got me with “cathedrals of our own.” I hope that when Supergrover reads me, she realizes that not only is she entering my sanctuary, in it she has the concept of sanctuary. When I’m around, no one can touch her. She is the ideal child of God, the fallible hero, the atheist who is actually Jesus to more people than me, or Moses if she’s more toward the Jewish persuasion. I don’t know how she identifies. Wherever her faith background lies, it’s not the same now as it was when she was a child. Being able to joke about that particular topic is one of my favorite joys in life because of another friend I knew from the same faith background.

I told this other friend that I was impressed about one thing and one thing only. That it’s one of the few religions in which there is documentation all the way from the beginning that has eyewitness accounts. Without missing a beat, she said, “yes. Documentation all the way back to when he made it up.”

It is my hope that eventually everyone in that religion will just self actualize and say, “it got weird,” and move on with their happy little lives. Tom Cruise could probably use that advice (not the same, but relatable).

You do you, but okay.

Speaking of which, that was another phrase that irritated Supergrover when it was a reference to another blog entry in which I explained that “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, and render unto God what is God’s.” That it was like telling the religious establishment with the snarkiest voice possible, “you do you, but okay.” It was not personal. It was me speaking truth to power. I was just being as snarky as Jesus, and repeating a line I hope gets stuck in people’s heads, because it’s emotional shorthand for being kind and taking no shit. BOUNDARIES. I tend to say small things repetitively because they do the most good. The music of the phrase makes it speak louder in people’s minds because they remember it. “You do you, but okay” means to me that you can uphold the system if you want, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good one.

People pleasers do not realize that catering to everyone’s needs and trying to anticipate them is actually more problematic than open and clear communication….. in essence, trying to render unto Caesar and render unto God and you can’t serve both. Speak truth to power. Please, please, please hurt my feelings rather than keeping it in. I only ask that you think about the problem long enough not to give me a knee-jerk reaction, because I’m making the commitment not to react to it and I don’t want to regress.

Red mist rage while I can type with my eyes closed is not a productive use of my time, and is feeding into my autism to an enormous degree because once I’m overstimulated, it’s meltdown time. I learned this from Harry Wales in “Spare,” because I don’t know if he feels red mist rage because of autistic meltdown or PTSD, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the same kind of neurodivergence because all of the above alter your thought processes and they’re your new normal. You have to learn to cope with them, knowing that your first reaction will always be wrong. Always. You’re wired to shut down and protect what you have left, not to open up and share your pain so that someone else can see it and help without asking. For people pleasers, you always have trouble getting them to express what they need because they don’t want to look like an imposition. Most of the time, it’s because people have been taught that they’re needy in childhood. You think you’re being a hero by keeping everything inside and you’re just burning yourself out constantly and with PTSD, not being able to regulate your emotions.

It was inextricably interrelated in my mind, and I’m not sure that anyone could prove me wrong. Harry, like Kathleen, Dana, Daniel, Zac, Bryn, and Supergrover (and even Franklin, my companion at Wire Ave., to some extent) are all affected by trauma that’s above my pay grade and always has been. That being said, because I grew up as a preacher’s kid, my first instinct is to minister them. Especially because Zac and Supergrover are atheists, I feel that approaching them with spiritual lessons without attaching religion to it is helpful in our communication; I’m talking about energy and not dogma. Sometimes people need an osteopath, not an MD. They’re the people I can think of as a good example of why the Mayo clinic is such a wonderful resource.

They treat the mind/body connection as so real- in a way that other doctors’ offices and hospitals don’t. There is also no national infrastructure for health integration, because mental illness is treated so differently from physical illness, as if mental illness isn’t also coming from a diseased organ (separating out processing disorders from depression and anxiety. The reason the brain is diseased is that it uses the very best lies against you to get you to off yourself because the brain is hell bent on protecting you and thinks that’s the answer. It needs medication and therapy to not feel “extremely loud and incredibly close”).

Editor’s Note:

“Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is one of my favorite books in the entire world because I have such a personal connection to it. Not only was I living in Alexandria at the time and heard the plane smash into the Pentagon while the paintings and windows rattled from three miles away, my birthday is September 10th. My extremely loud and incredibly close moment is perfectly expressed from that book……… That “The Best Day” transitioned into “The Worst Day.”

I have felt exactly that way about health integration for a very long time. The less Dana really meant she was forsaking all others, the problems with her family would just get worse. And they did. She started developing depression and again, hives for “no reason.”

All of this culminated in disaster when Dana invited her mom and dad to come and stay with us. It was great, up and to a point. They even let us sleep together in our own bedroom…… at their house, their solution was to get a room with twin beds so they could keep their imaginations intact. That’s why we never visited. My general rule is that if I ask for your opinion and help in a relationship, please give it to me straight. If I don’t, BUTT THE FUCK OUT because this is my marriage, not yours. But in every family, it is not the in-law’s job to deal with their partner’s family. My partner fell down on the job, and that played a large part in our divorce as well. I needed Supergrover to cope with that kind of pressure. I still have that love and devotion from her in large part because she’s wonderful at giving me advice in other relationships and I hang on her every word. My frustration is that she’ll work on all my relationships with me except ours, and it’s the most important because I tell her everything and she doesn’t tell me what she hears.

I was actually very humbled when she sent me her thoughts, not because they were good or bad, but because they were there. I only ended the interaction when it became too painful to continue. We were making great progress, and then she exploded like a firecracker when I really hadn’t done anything to deserve it. As I told her, “don’t let me be the asshole out here all by myself.” Then, it was her turn to recognize that she was indeed the asshole. I sent her a message immediately that said “you are forgiven. Honestly and completely.” I knew she wouldn’t get the reference because it’s a line from Doctor Who, but that didn’t matter. I needed to feel the connection between Eleven and River Song to convey how I really felt about her. I will never be in love with her ever again, but because of my past with her and how much it affected me, I view her as an emotional support partner more than anyone else. It’s just not my decision to accept it or not. So far, it’s been a mixed bag. I was so happy I cried when she said, “you’re right. My first instinct was “LET ME GRAB MY PURSE. THAT MOTHERFUCKER.” If you get the reference, you’ll see how funny it really was.

I have no doubt that Dana’s dad would have thought I was brilliant if I was male. That’s because even though he tolerated me, I hung on his every word because he was a Marine and all of his stories have stayed inside me all this time. They’re just not my stories to tell. The one that I can tell is because it made me laugh. When cell phones first came out for intelligence officers (earlier than to the general public, I would imagine), the Americans knew how they worked, and the Russians didn’t. They thought they had privacy and couldn’t be tapped if they used them in their cars. I laughed so hard I was sagging in my chair. It does not surprise me in the slightest that my model for a perfect partner for me is military and intelligence (not as big an oxymoron as one might think) because I loved those stories more than I’ve ever loved anything. He sat there and fed my autistic special interest all day long. The thing I love about military/intelligence men (not because I prefer men, because I haven’t met many women in the service and only a few retired spies. Men are the ones that tell me these stories. I love all of them, from the motor pool to pulling a gun on a Colonel because he was being a racist bastard and that was the only thing they could think of to deescalate the situation- by making it clear just how serious being racist in the military actually is.)

My personal view is to baby myself, because I find that when I do, I am more able to show people that I love them, because my boundaries are not so overextended that I disengage. I don’t mean boundaries in terms of keeping people out because of their emotions, but boundaries on how much I want to hear at once. I like it when people ask me if I have the bandwidth for a call before they do it. I like it when people say they have serious shit to talk about and do I have the bandwidth to let them vent? As we say in Texas, “you better ‘redneckcognize.”

Because when people respect my boundaries, I am so much more comfortable bending them because I respect them so much in return. I will go above and beyond when people go above and beyond for me. I recognize Supergrover’s sacrifice, but she has not recognized mine as such. I think I’ll be waiting a long time, because if she was going to do it, she would have done it by now.

If she wanted to visit me, neither hell nor high water would keep her from it. Why did she snipe at me on the anniversary of my mother’s death instead of hugging me? I think it would have gone a lot further than making me angry as fuck for a very long time.

And in fact, the thing I invited her to do with me was on Mother’s Day. I only have this loose connection to it anymore, and I did not realize that’s what I was doing. Of course it was important for her to be with her family that day. But she didn’t say no. She agreed to mull it over.

Progress.

I have just been too intimidated and too humiliated to say flat out, “okay. This has gone on long enough. Only meeting in person will break our toxic cycles because we have no frame of reference to each other besides each other. There is no context to our relationship and seeing each other out in the world will give that to both of us.” The fantasy and the reality need to be managed, not ignored. I will absolutely die mad about that, because I got in very hot water over it. I didn’t ignore it, she did, then came down hard when she decided I should have known not to lay out what was really going on in my head and that her very specific secrets were not fair game but an overarching thousand foot view of the problem from all angles was.

I did not want to be the lovesick teenager anymore. I wanted to explain that there was a solid reason I felt like my heart turned into an 808 drum, that her love was my drug and that has proven to be true for almost 11 years. What kind of person thinks that deep a love is just a game I’m playing to fuck with her? What kind of person ignores how hard it was to say goodbye to her and Michael and instead, berate me for writing things like it? Or just telling me that she was incensed by some entries and touched by others, never telling me which ones touched her so that I didn’t have to be so afraid. I could know the boundaries I was crossing instead of guessing all the time to get my story out there.

I have caused a lot of hurt, but it has never been intentional. My story is for people all over the world, not direct letters to people. People would see my writing a lot differently if they viewed it as an episode of “The Moth,” “Morbid,” and “Risk!” (“Risk!” Is storytelling, but mostly adult content. Caveat emptor. I just love it because it’s hilarious.) People being able to read my writing and assess it like I’m Harriet the Spy are so close to the point, but it’s whizzing right by their faces.

I use my life as an example to others, both of what to do and what not to do. I allow myself to have a full range of human emotion, and not to dumb it down to protect other people’s comfort, because it’s not for them.

It’s all for me. As I work through my childhood and adulthood, I see the patterns that no longer serve me, and I have found that it was finally easier to leave the cocoon than stay in.

She’s still my precious, precious six year old. I’m just choosing to love her from over here……. until she realizes it’s not actually that far.