Writing FAST - Jeff Bollow 2012

And so...
How to reach lightning speed
The payoff

I started this book with a story. The story of the cavemen and the Mammoth. I’d like to finish with a story, too. And I’ll take a little creative license here, as well.

Ooga had a great-grandfather named — I dunno — let’s call him Looga.

One day (long before Ooga was even born), Looga was out wandering the countryside, collecting berries for winter.

Just as the sun was setting over the horizon, a storm rolled in. The clouds were deep and dark and threatened to downpour. Looga noticed it, and hurried back down the path to the cave.

But suddenly, the clouds started spitting bolts of lightning at the ground. Looga freaked. He’d heard crazy tales of these lightning bolts, and figured the gods were angry at him. He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, but now was no time to argue! He hid under a nearby tree.

It was getting dark, but it wasn’t safe to keep going.

So, for half an hour, he sat terrified under that tree.

Suddenly, the giant spark of a stray bolt of lightning crashed down upon the tree above him. He shielded his head from the noise — and thought he was a dead man.

When it fell quiet again, he checked his bearskin coat, amazed. He was still intact. But when he looked up, Looga saw a curious sight.

The tree above him was dancing with a strange orange-and-red glow. He had never seen anything like it, and he watched in wonder. Transfixed.

Without warning, a branch snapped off the tree and slammed onto the ground, missing him by inches.

It sat there, at his feet — the orange-and-red glow flicking off the top of the branch. He reached out to touch it but — owww! — nearly burned his hand.

As the sky fell completely black, the tree and the area stayed lit. Thanks to this orange-and-red glow, Looga could see great distances, even at nighttime!

He grabbed the end of the branch that wasn’t glowing, and held it above his head. The whole area was illuminated. It was as if daylight was still with him. He smiled.

Looga took his new torch safely through the night back to his cave. Another discovery had been made.

Ideas spark ideas.

And it all begins with one stray bolt of lightning.