Damn Ephemeral Tracks!

I lied... I said the weirdness would start now and it should 'cause the next story in line, "Mythic Proportions", does get mildly weird. Thing is, I have now been awake 19+ hours and am starting to drift. It's been a very busy day starting at waking up at 3am (it is 10:15pm as I write this) for work and then my daughter's online school and then a zoom meeting and then a promised drive for my wee one who just wants to ride around a little, dinner and two loads of laundry and I'm not going to be completing anything overly successful tonight... especially since the harsh chemicals I use at work have my hands dry to the point were 7 of 10 fingertips are split. Even typing on a computer keyboard is damn annoying.

Thus I am going to get away easy tonight by posting something I found earlier today as I was trying to figure something out on my computer and accidentally found something I wrote last year. Now please note, this was written after, well, the note to myself says it all but I'm just going to copy the whole into here so ya'll can see how an idea burst open... and then gets lost until I fiddle around on my computer. This though is an important note because it gives me some direction to follow concerning a character I had dedicated to just disappearing but didn't know how. I'll let the note I wrote to myself as I was in a half-sleep state speak for itself, specifically in the fact that you can see my mind blinking here.

Oh, and for the discerning eye, this gives you a great example of what my screen looks like when I'm working. This is the font I use, an old type-writer font, from the Underwood #5 actually, which is what Robert E. Howard banged away on. Until I can get my Underwood #5 cleaned and such (yeah, uh, lots of confidence on this one here...) so I can make a font based on my own machine, I use this. It's called MyUnderwood and yeah, just look it up. I like it 'cause, as I said elsewhere, it gives you a certain aesthetic when you're working, one where you want to lower your fedora and shout at your paper as the words clack off the platen. It's like live action role playing for writers and I highly recommend it for anyone with an over active personal fantasy life focused in that pulp writer mystique niche...

*****

6-19-20, 1 am

I know what happened to Radul!

He goes missing… he just isn’t there.

Why? I’d thought of that in earliest charges against what I’d set myself up with in There is Clearly Something Amiss. Nesmith just shrugs.

Tonight, after being awake 20 hours, an 8 hour work day and 107 miles under my belt, no nap and only a Marie Calendar’s pot pie in my belly, it came to me on a walk to go get beverages at a late hour. It was around 11pm and I was walking back to Yvonne’s place from the store this first night of mandatory facemasks. I was chasing through ideas seeking leads, looking for something to speak up and something did.

Let me first square away a few points, the first being Radul Izkov is, so far, only a mystery. We know that after Vidak’s death, Radul becomes reclusive and dour. This is confirmed in The Trial and Execution of Leopold Tarkenfeld.

Sleep might overtake me as I sit, half dressed with one shoe on and still, somehow, pants half off, weaving from side to side and losing myself for great stretches of time. I just must say this, a hint dropped to myself if my fingers fail. What if, upon the death of Atterly at the rope, at that moment, Radul just goes, leaves of an instant… seriously, a fucking instant and so transfixed by the spectacle of Atterly’s hanging, people looking right at Radul don’t seem him just go away… vanish… ceasing occupying space. It isn’t until after the body dropped that anyone turned to comment to Radul.

Where is he? Well, that place, or way/space/dimension wherein my dead, my ghosts at least, exist, that darkened place with vivid colors ‘til nigh not much but faded monochrome with hints… aside from those distinct attentions such as blood. That’s where he is. Yup… sucked right on through physically to the other side. Might want to read up on some myths of divine mortal ascension for inspiration.

Can we consider a Chapter 24 only tied at the start, one trio running progressive and the other trio into the past so they end as far from each other as possible? Yes, it is possible to consider and actually, as we all know, oft times the story develops from the addition of those around it.

Oh, um, in any story which deals with the execution of Simon Atterly, the set up could be included of Radul just popping (almost wrote pooping) out of existence. Or there could be a Tale based on reaction to Radul going away… and that is what the name of this title implies.

The second story potential which I’ll have to come up with a temp(possiblepermanent) name which deals with Radul in the land of the Dead. In fact, WITHIR (this story idea the whole note is based on), could end on the other side of the door (metaphor, folks! er, me). By the way, this is going to end up being a wild and fucked up journey for Radul… but I could have so much fun for it for what is someone who exists in the land of the dead having ascended there both body and soul together? What would this be called?

So let’s develop this off the title and go from there… Where in the Holler is Radul? (or should it be Radul Izkov?)

Oh, one thing brain storm walking dredged up that I have to write down before falling over is I forget ‘cause I’m that tired damn ephemeral tracks!