Project : NaPodPoMo NaNoWriMo 22 Nov 2020

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 22 NOV 2020   Todays Topic Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected] The Story So Far 22 Nov 2020  3392  daily count 36742 cumulative count                 Cheryl went back to writing in the diary and motioned Carl back into the living room. She kept up a good pace and drank more evening coffee. Occasionally she would get up and walk to the patio and look out the window to return to the kitchen table and make her entry. It was about midnight when she finished.                 “Okay I just got done with everything I can think to write. Do you want to crash out and wake up early in the morning and get this done,” asked Cheryl?                 “Naw, I won’t sleep until it is done. Might as well get this knocked out tonight so that way I can sleep,” replied Carl.                 “Okay I am bushed, I’ll just go to bed right now and I’ll be waiting for those cheese omelets. Do not stay up all night because I have that feeling that you plan to plow through this until the bitter end. We got a big day tomorrow and I need you to be awake, plus Myra is going to be up early I am sure, it can be weird sleeping in a house you don’t know,” said Cheryl. “If she gets up I’ll grab her so you can get this done.”                 “Sounds like a plan, I promise I’ll be crashed out on the couch in about an hour or so, I am used to writing for work quickly,” said Carl.                 Cheryl gave him a hug and went to the bedroom. In a short amount of time, Carl heard her light snoring after she had turned out the light. He kept the music from the TV going while he worked on his entry. Luckily, he had enough coffee in the pot for a few more cups and wrote the events of the day as thoroughly as he could. The details of every event that he could remember found its way onto the page and after he had finished three pages in an hour, he decided he was done for the evening. He began to wonder what Cheryl had written and wanted to take a peek at her recounting of the details to make sure he didn’t miss anything but decided that would only bring harm to everyone involved. If there were any missed details it was too late now as his eyes were very heavy. He closed the book and sighed heavily. Taking the book into the office he placed it in the top shelf of his desk and locked the shelf. He felt good about what he added as it was the best he could remember, and he would be able to return to it later if he wanted to clearly remember the day.                 He made his way back to the bathroom to change into his pajamas. Basically it was sweatpants and a t-shirt, he took the towel that Myra had used and placed it in the laundry basket as he changed. She had left the bathroom spotless and he was impressed. When he was nine years old he would have left a pool of water on the floor and toothpaste caked in the sink. Myra seemed to be an old soul to him, but then he remembered that girls mature faster than boys, or at least he was sure he read it somewhere. Once changed he went to the living room and made it to the couch. He got up and went to the kitchen to clean up the coffee maker and prep it for the morning. The digital clock read 2 in the morning and he let out a long slow yawn. He was pleased that he got everything done before ethe sun came up, that would have been a disaster for him in what they needed to accomplish for the day. He looked into the fridge and saw that he had enough eggs, butter and cheese for the omelets. After that he went to the couch and pulled the blankets on him. The music on the TV was still going and he thought about turning on the timer, but then remembered he promised Myra that he would let the music play all night. He could hear Cheryl softly snoring and he could hear Myra’s deep breathing. Everything was quiet in the house and the world as even the traffic from the nearby highway seemed to ebb to almost nothing. With everything in the apartment checked to his liking he laid back and let his eyes shut. Soon he was dreaming and snoring to himself.                 Car’s dreams were strange that early morning, he saw himself and Myra in a lawyers office dressed up in suit and she was in a purple dress talking in soft voices to a judge. The judge said something about adoption and Myra cheered and gave him a hug. His brother Nate was there shaking his hand and Cheryl was there as well crying softly to herself. There was a rapid succession of visions of them at a park, swimming in a lake, a birthday party where everyone was gathered, and Myra was blowing out her birthday candles. During all these mini dreams he could hear voices in the background mumbling incoherently. The dreams came faster and shorter each time until Carl woke up in a cold sweat. He was on the couch, the music was still playing, this time it was a Lee Morgan tune he could not read on the screen. Myra was curled up on the easy chair without a blanket, asleep, breathing deeply. Carl got up and went to the chair. The sun was still not up yet and the digital clock read 5:30. He picked up Myra carefully trying not to wake her and took her to her new bedroom. The blankets must have been kicked off in the night sometime and she probably slept walked to the chair and was trying not to wake anyone. He placed her gently onto the bed and put her blankets back on her. Kissed her forehead and turned to go.                 “Good night Papa,” Myra sleepily said.                 “Good night sweetheart, go back to sleep,” he said as a natural reflex that startled him a bit.                 He went back to the couch and got back under his blankets. The music that played was again by Grover Bechet he noticed.  Wanted to pull out his phone and research this person, but remembered that he was not allowed to do that, so he just closed his eyes again and tried to get back to sleep. It didn’t take too long to get back to sleep and when he awoke this time, it was still early, about 6:30 when he woke to Cheryl sitting on the easy chair.                 “Good morning early riser, did you sleep okay,” groggily asked Carl?                 “Had a weird dream, actually a weird set of dreams. I’m sure it is all related to everything that happened yesterday. Did you get any sleep,” asked Cheryl?                 “Yeah, Myra got up about an hour or so ago and was sitting where you are sitting, I put her back down to bed no problem. I finished at about two and I had a bunch of weird dreams as well. It’s the stress of yesterday, I am sure tonight we will be dead tired and will crash hard. You want me to make a pot of coffee, and is there a morning coffee that I should be making other than black,” asked Carl?                 “I think I need to switch to whatever keeps you going at your pace. Yeah some coffee would be nice, wait we don’t want to wake her up with the sound of the grinder,” said Cheryl.                 “Pre-ground stuff. I used a burr grinder so it will be fine. Its just a drip coffee maker so t is not going to live up to your standards, but for right now it wil be fine. Hold on let me get it started,” said Carl. He got up from the couch slowly and heard the usual joints popping. He got into the kitchen quietly and turned on the coffee maker, pulling two cups he placed them on the coffee table. They both sat in silence as the maker sputtered and gurgled as the coffee slowly dripped into the carafe, The familiar smell that they both devoted their lives too soon filled the room which warmed it up during the cool early morning. It took about ten minutes and the carafe was full. Carl went back to the kitchen and grabbed it and poured Cheryl’s cup first and then his own. He returned the carafe back to the coffee maker in the kitchen and came back to the couch and sat in front of his coffee, breathing in the aroma before he took his first sip.                 “Tomorrow I will do a French press in the morning. I like the ritual of French press coffee but today I just can’t do it,” said Carl.                 “Ooohhhh getting fancy for me now huh. Are you sure you want to take our relationship to that level, making French press coffee for someone is a lifelong commitment,” teased Cheryl?                 “Well you would have to spend the night again or at least be here early enough to drink it. Speaking of that, are you planning on staying the night again,” asked Carl?                 “Yeah I think so. Myra would really benefit to have a woman here, but I know the couch is not that comfortable to sleep on and it is not fair to you to have you on the couch every night while we figure this situation out,” said Cheryl.                 “Hey, I don’t mind too much right now. I...