Well, I’m no longer the parent of teenagers. Alex turned legal-drinking-age last month and today Erica turns 20.

Insert jokes about how I feel so old now, here.

Good. Glad we got that out of the way. The important thing here is that they’re off to live their own lives now. They’re not necessarily living the dreams they had a few years ago, it’s true. Dreams are only a set of guideposts anyway. Reality is nittier and grittier and, honestly, more interesting. It’s not always as much fun as our dreams, but that’s life. I’m proud of them both and hope that soon they’ll be fully standing upon their own feet, then striding boldly towards their futures.

Today I learned that there are great benefits to be won from the process of planning out a story. I know it’s news only to me and that everyone else is thinking, “Duh!” I’m still astonished, however, that building the outline and planning out the story arcs is helping me get this thing going in a big way. For one thing: I can move pieces around as needed. Last night I placed one particular turning point six installments out from the end only to realize today that I need more room after that event to squeeze in the things that need to happen before the end. There are 26 installments (yes, I’m sticking with the original plan from months ago in that respect, twice-weekly installments for 13 weeks) to build; having a fixed number gives me a box in which to start fitting the pieces. Storytelling Tetris, as it were.

For another thing: I realized last night that I don’t need to craft a clever plan for the grand finale all on my own. Clever plans abound in stories written by smarter folk than I. All I need to do is find one that suits my purposes and adapt it to this environment. It’s almost time to conduct some research! (Note that I have no intention of using someone else’s efforts in a whole-cloth form. What I need is the structure of the thing, Person A Takes Action X While Persons B And C Provide Distraction Q, and so forth.)

Planning! Who knew?

The most astonishing thing, mind you, is that I put together the planning file last night, got it more than halfway done, looked at it again this evening, and didn’t chuck the whole thing in the waste bin for being a terrible idea. Instead, I moved things around and added the extra bits I needed to happen between the moved things and the ending things. Now all I need is to work out the middle details of my erstwhile “B Plot,” then plan out my Grand Finale, then I can start this thing.

If I still like a story idea after sleeping on it then there’s some small cause for hope. Right? Right.

I don’t want to get ahead of myself again like I did last time. I don’t want to get folks’ hopes up. (Or down, if that’s appropriate.) I have, however, plotted 16 of the 26 points I need for my story arc. Knowing where you’re going has to be a good way to start, doesn’t it…?

I’m still looking at a serialized WordPress-based presentation, but I’m not going to try to surf the wave and write just ahead of each scheduled publication date. (I suspect the stress of that notion contributed to my meltdown the last time around.) This thing will be at least halfway in the bag before the first post goes up. I’m strongly inclined to complete production before even releasing the first installment just so I don’t have to worry about missing an update.

So. Let’s see if, after months of rest and weeks of restlessness, I can get this idea off the ground at last.

As of today I’ve been a father for twenty-one full years. I wasn’t a “Dad” at first, I wasn’t good at the job, but maybe few people are actually talented right out of the gate when it comes to parenting. At any rate, my all-grown-up son is up in Redmond somewhere right now and I hope he’s having a good time.

Responsibly, mind you. Always responsibly.

While pondering what to do with our couple days off together, the lovely and patient Kylanath suggested an Ikea trip. And so, this morning, after a lovely breakfast at the Cadillac Cafe on NE Broadway we embarked via MAX train to our local big blue-and-yellow box. Once again I demonstrated why shopping with me is superior to shopping without me.

• I point out all the shinies. “Oooh, look at this! You know you want one.”
• I provide the best snark. “Of course you need purple napkins. Why else would they exist, otherwise?”
• I am a grand master of using improvised objects for comedy. “I know the sign says it’s an oven mitt, but this is clearly a silicone lizard hand puppet.”
• I can carry heavy boxes for moderate distances on the way home.

My big blue bag only contained a big gray bath towel and a big poofy pillow, one of which I can’t try out until after laundry day and the other I can’t try out until bedtime. Otherwise I behaved myself, and my bank balance thanks me…