I've always wanted to do this; now I have.

Today I woke up to the electricity being out in my cabin... again. This time, however, it was not because someone in particular cut the juice. An auto accident about a mile away caused the power outage. Apparently, it was pretty nasty. I didn't see it, but was told about it by my landlord.

The last time the juice cut out was a doosy. I went off half-cocked at the person responsible, issuing threats of retribution. Some hours after that incident, I went back and apologized for my reaction, promising not to respond that way again. This time, for some reason, I just knew that no one was responsible- it was just a fluke. Even so, I wasn't bothered by it. At the most, I was just bemused. After all, the entire house was out, so who was I to complain?

I got dressed and prepared to go to the cafe to do some writing, since work on my computer was out of the question. Just as I opened the cabin door to leave, the power came back on. I literally had one foot out the door when I sensed the thrum of electricity course through the cabin's power lines. Of course, the computer, monitor, cable modem, alarm clock and network hub had been shut off- to prevent any power surges once the power eventually came back on- so I wasn't able to actually tell that the juice was on. I just felt it, the same way that some people can hear the high-pitched whine of a TV, even when it's muted. I turned on my computer, to check and make sure, and sure enough it whirred to life.

I decided to continue with my plans of writing at the cafe anyway, after checking my e-mail. Got a message from someone in the alt.startrek.creative newsgroup, telling me how much they're enjoying my "Time Heals All Wounds" series. It's a Heinlein / TNG crossover story that I've been sitting on for quite some time. The sender wanted to know which Heinlein books she should read so that she could become more familiar with the non-Trek characters. I replied to her gladly. Was it coincidence that I was actually headed to the cafe with the express intent of writing the next chapter in that series? Hmmm...

Got to the cafe and it was blissfully quiet. I don't like going to the cafe when it's crowded anymore. The fewer people and distractions, the better. I went to the back porch to do my writing, coffee and cigarettes in their usual spots on my table (coffee cup to the left of my laptop computer, cigarettes and lighter sitting next to the coffee, ashtray to my right). Many writers have tiny little rituals or organization patterns they employ while they're writing. It's that whole "A place for everything and everything in its place" syndrome that helps the writer to settle into a certain flow, where whatever they need is within arm's reach. I once met a writer who refused to listen to any kind of music other than Brahms while they work their craft. Personally, I like to mix things up a bit, but to each their own.

I donned my earphones, fired up the MP3 player on my laptop and immersed myself into a world that doesn't exist. This chapter would be told from Lazarus Long's perspective. I wondered where it would go, because I had utterly no idea, and decided to let Laz tell me, in his own words. It worked out well. Two hours later I had the chapter done, a first run with only 5 typos. I need to re-read my Heinlein books to get back into his style of writing again. The chapter was well-written, but I think there were some discrepencies in style. I hope the hardcore Heinlein fans who read the story are forgiving- either that, or insensitive to Bobby's writing style.

Hung around the cafe a little while longer, just because I had nothing else better to do. I didn't want to go home yet. Perhaps I was waiting to see if the writing bug would bite again, inspiring me to get back to work on Mystic Ghost, my personal pet project. It didn't; I left.

And, so, I'm home again. Food in my stomach, smokes in front of me and OJ ready to drink. I wonder what the night will bring?

Save often; lose less.