Reach out and GOOSE someone

Reach out and goose someone? Am I kidding?

As someone who has just been "goosed" in a sense, I say goosing is a service to your fellow man.

Surely she doesn't mean "goosing" the way I think she means "goosing". Ooooh, but she does. Alright, kind of.

When is the last time you felt wide awake with shock? Apart from a shower suddenly turning cold? I thought so.

Here's how I accidentally goosed myself...

Went to Vegas to a furniture show last week. Too busy to write, of course. Too busy to breathe, actually. But on the last night my boss, Kara, and I were determined to have a good time, so we walked the strip. Yes, we saw the water at the Bellagio, etc. But just before we gave it all up I got an idea. Kara wanted to see the roller coaster at the New York, NY casino. Just to see it, mind you. So we went up to the landing and I insisted that we get on, citing "we are women, not mice". She was so surprised I would do it, she went along.

Little did she know I anticipated not fitting into the seat, planned to act disappointed before insisting she go on without me. Yes, I'm that devious.

She was amazed at my calm. I was amazed at my calm. I even managed to distract her while we waited for our turn.

I climbed in first, intending to pop right back up and out, only to find that I DID fit in the seat. The handles COULD lock over me, and the shoulder bumpers FIT ME LIKE A FREAKING GLOVE! Before I could share my little joke with others the car started moving.

I started screaming.

Before it even started the climb up that murderous hill, I was screaming my head off. At half way I was telling Kara what I wanted her to tell my family. The rest of the ride was a blur of curses. I averaged about 30 "sh..ts" per minute. Surprising how uncreative I was.

So, with my heart racing, intent on attacking me as soon as it caught up, I flew through the neon-blurred air. I screamed like a banshee over a battlefield. In the end I was surprised to discover not only had I not peed my pants, I had been caught on camera not peeing my pants. What looks like a smile is actually the shutter catching me mid "sh...t".

It has been a long time since I felt so alive. Alive and ready to write. If only I can get that kind of life into my characters.

So, I will take them to the brink of death (or what they believe to be the brink) and snatch them back. A psychological "goose", if you will. And what's good for the character is good for the writer. Push yourselves to the brink this week. Take a close up view of life in any way you can. Then get it on paper.

And if all efforts fail, goose someone else.

Ainsley