600 words a day ...

I'm starting this crappy experiment again.
Well, mainly because it feels like I'm trying to cut through a steak with a crayon every time I sit down to write.
The wheels just aren't turning. And the prose? Yeah ... totally lame.
This being the Internet, however, I feel inclined to share my lameness with the whole world five readers here.
Enjoy. Remember: be abusive in the comments.

Note ... all this is unedited, stream of consciousness drivel. But the mental head trips are fun, kids. Write! Don't do drugs.


“How do you feel about turning into a clownfish for a few hours?” asked Deputy Minster Anderson.

President Gorman paused and sat back in his chair. “There’s something about this my rivals are just going to love.”

“It would only be for a few hours,” Anderson replied. “We could probably run cover on it. Besides, there are thousands of scientists out there who’d kill for the chance.”

“Too bad I’m not one of them.” Gorman said. “And how exactly are you going to run cover on it? Remember Prime Minster Brown? The tabloids are still all over the 'minister goes monkey' debacle. How do you live down eating your own feces, Anderson? Explain that to me.”

“Look, I get it. You're concerned. But we'll cover this. And if you want to deal with the Shawnee those are the terms.” Anderson said. “And believe me, we want to deal with the Shawnee.”


Alexander Blu didn’t want to go camping with his son.

It wasn’t that he was a bad Dad, he was just busy. And Jason asked a lot of questions.

“You’re a journalist Alex,” Mariana would say. “He asks questions because he’s trying to imitate you.”

After four days Alex was just about questioned out. And as the pair doused the fire and settled in for their last night camping Alex nearly ignored his son’s query.”

“What’s that light?”

Then Alex heard the boom.


Alex and Jason waited until dawn to leave their campsite to investigate the disturbance of the preceding night.

Three miles later they were at the crash site. It looked as if nothing had been disturbed. And for an instant, Alex wondered if maybe Jason had somehow tricked him into investigating the crash as a way to lengthen their trip.

Then he spotted the carriages. There were four of them, all wooden and adorned with cheesy advertisements similar to the magazine ads Alex’s dad used to collect back in the 1950s. Three women were setting awnings over the open carriages as two men focused on a copper cylinder in the middle of the wagon train.

“Heck of a place for the carnies to shack up,” Alex said.

“What’s a carny?” Jason asked.

Alex sighed. “Nevermind. Just follow me.”

The pair walked toward the wagons. The women hanging the awnings didn’t seem to notice them. The two men with the copper tube knelt near the device, one extending his hand as the other held up a gray stone. A bolt of blue suddenly streaked out of the man’s hand, connecting with the tube. It vanished. The air filling with a crack into the previously occupied space.

“Dad … how?” Jason said.


Alexander Blu was lucky to wearing his wool hat.

The Shawnee briefly glanced around the wagon train. “We could turn you into … that.”

“A deer?” Alexander asked.



“It’s … uh … complicated.” “But we’ll change you back. You just have to give us that.”

Alexander followed the Shawnee’s finger. It was pointing right above his head.

The horrifying revelation settled in. “You want to steal my brain?!?”

“Uh … no. That.”

Alexander grabbed his wool hat. “You want my hat?”

The alien nodded vigorously.


Alexander Blu would later describe the “deer experience” in his book Sharing with the Shawnee thusly:

It was an altogether incorporeal journey – the center of which I have no recollection. My human consciousness ebbed away as the reality of the deer’s mind pranced forward. My arms lengthened into legs as my feet kicked back, slamming my face into the ground before reoritneing my self in my new quadrapedal manner …”

Alexander wasn’t the world’s greatest writer. But he was the first human to experience a Shawnee transformation and that made him and expert.

Uh ... that's about 600 words, right????

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