The Journey of SILVER BROWN

Übercharacter (or “Let’s Just Pretend Bears Can Fly”)

I’ve always been inclined to be a pantser. Both in life, and in writing. I shan’t elaborate further on how this disposition relates to the former. But the latter probably comes from Stephen King, whose 2000 how-to/autobiography On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft is a book I would highly recommend for anyone looking to take up this art for themselves. Chock full of useful tips and tricks on writing fiction, from an undisputed expert on the subject.


Sri Stephen presaged the Trump presidency when he thought up Pennywise the Dancing Clown. The man is a living Buddha.

Somewhere in the aforementioned tome, King states that he always starts a book having no idea how it’s going to end. Decisions on such matters are to be left up to the characters, who take on a life of their own as the author writes, driving the story in ways the author never anticipated.

That approach (or at least some badly misinterpreted variant thereof) is one I’ve incorporated many a time. There would be a general idea about plot devices and where the story would end up eventually, but for the most part I would take an improvisational route to writing fiction. The results were hit and miss. Making it all up as you go along is all fun and games until you end up writing yourself into a hole. But never a waste of time. There are certain genres where one must learn to play before learning to hunt…

The Environment is a character in this crazy yarn I’m currently tinkering around with. Like it tends to be in many a work of speculative fiction. All other characters and events spring from the Environment, so the Übercharacter required more fleshing out than any other character. I had to invest the time to wrestle with the Übercharacter, like a bear cub wrestling its littermate. So It could hone Itself, eventually becoming strong enough to take off.


The Zen of SILVER BROWN

Canadian Chincicles 🇨🇦⛄🍁

I always get a few of these every winter. The majority of them are unremarkable pellets that melt the second I step into any warm building. Then there are ones like these. It was half-melted by the time I thought to photographically immortalize it, but was quite the stylin’ chin ornament at first glance…


The Soundtrack of SILVER BROWN

A Momentary Lapse of Reason 💗💔🖤💛

Way back in the day, during a much more footloose and fancy free period of world history before such phrases as social distancing and covfefe were introduced to the lexicon, I met a cute little kitten. That cute little kitten has since grown into a lioness. Learned that the hard way. The result of a hiccup in my better judgement, during a typical 2020 moment when I was all but convinced civilization was about to collapse tomorrow.

Late one night, The Demon Alcohol (who I haven’t danced with since) convinced me it would be a gas and a half to whip out my phone and drop that cute little kitten I used to know a seemingly innocent line. The response was a deluge of hitherto-unsaid accumulated rage unleashed upon me in a single email. Her words came straight from the cockles of her heart, and stung like hell. A kind of deep intensive stinging you don’t notice at first, but permeates your whole being down to the marrow once it finally hits you and decimates your libido for about forty-eight hours afterward. I would recover quickly from that burn, but hot damn. The woman definitely has skills. 

Invoking the wrath of a lioness is certainly nothing I would encourage anyone to try at home. But if one finds oneself in one of those situations where getting mauled by a lioness is unavoidable, at least that stinging feeling has given us all the best music. It is to the blues* what milk is to cheese.

*Country music, too. Arguably. But I just can’t get into that shit. The whole genre has been little more than teen pop with ten-gallon hats and Martin guitars since that week Miley Cyrus’ dad was famous. It also appeals to hyperconservative Trumpist types, which only adds to its yuck factor.


Buddy Guy works that muthuhfuckin fuzzbox like a magic wand.