Over the years I have been working on various novels.  I am still in the process of finishing one of them.  I've written enough to have one complete but due to frequent editting, I am only about half way through one and less than that on others.   I guess that's why I also enjoy writing lyrics and poems and thoughts from the box as they are complete within a page or just a few lines.  I am just including the openings of the following works in progress: 

RANGE OF PERFECTION
THE CRESCENDO EFFECT
THERE AND BACK WITH CHARLIE SINGLETON


RANGE OF PERFECTION

Chapter One - Buzzed to Midnight

          Falling asleep was not part of the plan but the film was so - ffffffill in the blank - boring.  How could his own brother recommend such a snoozer?  Fred wanted to have more experiences in life, not have the feeling it was being drained out of him.  He had mixed emotions about having spent the last forty five minutes in full slouch.  It was a question of whether he considered that his time had been wasted or invested.  He could have spent the time in the continual enjoyment of writing his Exciting Things To Do list or consider having passed worthy downtime in the pleasure of a successful nap.  He wished someone would have told him about the film’s drowsy effect.  If so, he would not have had the seven buzzed to midnight latte shooters before coming home.  The blend of Bailey’s, steamed milk and thick espresso allowed him to stay awake just long enough to order pizza.  It also caused him to fall into slumber half way though his second beer from the six-pack he had bought before his other brother had invited him over for the SuperBowl two weeks earlier.

            Slouched so far down, he hit his head on the back of the couch jolting up upon hearing the bang on the door by the delivery girl. Correction, delivery woman.  Anyone who ever met Judy would not call her a girl.  Although she could be a lady, it was best for her job she maintain the neutrality of being a woman.  Thus, she was not fazed when Fred answered the door wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer shorts.  She was somewhat impressed as the shorts probably cost more than what most of her customers spent on pants.  Heck, they were more than what Fred himself usually had spent on pants.

            Silk shorts and cheep beer.  Judy put on her typical friendly-for-a-better-tip smile.  It was sweet without being saccharine.  She kept her cool but could not help admire the look of Armani shorts around the waist and a Coors Lite on the back of the neck.  Sticking to her habit of letting the customer initiate the conversation, the two stood for a moment in a silence that could have swallowed the bottom third of a chai latte.

            She did her best to maintain her visual contact at eye level; he did his best not to stare at her breasts.  It was not intentional.  It was not until he took a second breath that was deep and sufficient enough to sweep the cobwebs from his head, that he realized his rudeness.

            I’m sorry.

            He was not in the habit of looking at women’s breasts without invitation.  While the relaxed fit of her tomato and sweaty cheese stained track suit left much to the imagination, still, Fred felt a tinge of guilt.  These irregular gentle rushes of guild has caused him to develop the habit of apologizing for matters that either confused the recipient or misdirected the.

            No problem. I can wait.  Judy casually responded.

            She had no clue for what he was really apologizing.   Coming to the door without cash for the pizza was her conclusion.  Miscommunication!  Now, what was the guy with a guilty conscience to think?  Waiting for what?  He stared at her trying to figure out the answer.

            Talk about awkward.

            Then his brain kicked in.  He realized she was standing there waiting for payment.  Standing there gripping two extra large, double loaded Mediterranean pizzas between her carelessly manicured hands.  On the top of the box Judy had taped the bill to face the customer.  Fred saw it in his peripheral vision but did not want to look down for fear she might perceive him as an eye-groper.

            So…

            He knew exactly what he wanted to say but his brain kept farting.  He waited for it to stop before blurting out the rest.

            … how much do I owe you?

            Ahh, whatever it says there.

            Although it was not quite an invitation, Fred wished he had on a baseball cap so he could avert his eyes without her noticing.  Instead he just stuck a goofus grin on his face and raced his gaze towards the bill.  He tapped it with his finger twice; taking a moment to think where he had put had put his pizza fund stash.

            Just a minute. Come in if you want.
            He was hoping that she would want.  As was her custom, she stood on the threshold of the door. Then she caught a glimpse of what was on the television.  So much for customs.  She did want. And she did come in.

THE CRESCENDO EFFECT

Chapter One - Where You Already Are

            It is my hope for all people that somewhere along the path of your growth and development, as you go through the process of becoming who you think you are supposed to be, you become the person you are. During that period/process you may look at others and want to be just like a certain person.  You may want to be the next Wayne Gretski, or the next Cheryl Crow or Jacqueline Onasis or even the next Bill Gates.  The problem with such a goal is that you can never become someone other than who you are.  The great thing about wanting to be the next whoever, is that you can never be.

            Most anyone who has achieved a respectable level of success has their own unique story to tell.  As will you. Everything that has gone before in your life has led you to this point; it's all part of your story of success.  What you choose as the marker of success is your choice. How you measure a degree of achievement is arguably arbitrary.

            Take a moment to recognize what you have already accomplished in life to this point. In retrospect, the seemingly straight-forward act of being born is a major accomplishment.  There is good reason why it is often called the miracle of birth. If you are reading this, that is another skill you have mastered.  Add to that the basics of walking, running, eating with utensils, talking in full sentences. While these are a few basics, they were at once considerably difficult.  You have your own individual skills, talents and accomplishments to add to what has made you unique. Each has brought you to this point and they will bring you further.  Now you may be thinking they are insufficient; thinking of analogies to give yourself understanding of where you are at.

            You may see your life as a symphony yet to be completed, an unfinished painting; a novel that needs more chapters; a house that would benefit from renovations, additions and upgrades.  Such thoughts are both helpful and counter-productive.  It is good to recognize your life so far as part of a greater whole.  Unfortunately, it jeopardises the effect of seeing the joys and challenges of each moment.  Consequently, I urge everyone to see the beauty of each brush stroke or musical note or sip of coffee or footprint in the sand.  To see that beauty as both separate and as part of the whole.  Then apply that approach to life.

            When you find that balance, you will no longer need to read self-help books, attend improvement seminars, join religious groups, clean the house, change your clothes, or even get out of bed.  But you will.