Yeah, I haven't posted anything in quite some time.  I'm up to my armpits in...well, everything.  And you know how it when your armpits are full.  The most exciting news I have to share at the moment is another rejection.  Yep.  Got another.  It's a fairly nice one, as rejections go, however, so inasmuch as one can be happy with a rejection, I guess I'm happy with this one:

Thank you for your patience and for giving me the opportunity to read your manuscript.  Sorry, but I will have to pass on this one as it's not quite what I'm looking for.  I appreciate your interest in Weird Tales and hope that you will keep me in mind for future submissions.

 

Yours Weirdly,

 

Ann VanderMeer

Fiction Editor

WEIRD TALES

So that's my update.  If I think of anything pithy to say, I'll post.  Who knows, there might even be something pithy in my arm pith.


Oh, just found out about these guys in a GUD blog post.  Kind of a Finnish version of Evanescence with a more orchestral sound and more operatic vocals.  Interesting.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJHRGyNh2h4&feature=related

I was having a conversation yesterday about child-rearing and structure.  We were discussing a family who adhere to a very rigid schedule with their four year old son - bath every night at the same time, bed time at precisely the same time, etc.  Now, I think structure is important, and routine helps children maneuver around their world, but this family has one child.  Try to adhere to that system with four kids.  We opt for a bedtime target range, and they bathe when they are dirty.  Sure, my wife and I are not really the ordered and organized types to begin with, but still, I maintain that a certain amount of flexibility teaches its own lessons.  I commented to the people with whom I was speaking that too much order raises an rigid, inflexible adult - like my brother.

My brother believes that there is one way to do everything - his way.  Not only that, he will engage you in rather animated discourse about his system.  Things as mundane as whether the toilet paper rolls over the top of the roll or is pulled from the bottom are important issues for him, I think, because of his need for there to be only one way.  It's like the Lilliputians fighting over whether the soft-boiled egg is cracked from the small end or the large end of the egg.  Weren't we supposed to learn something from that story?

So, now to my real point.  There are forks in the road, or nodes where options exist, all through life, I think.  And sometimes they are very small and seem rather insignificant, yet they may have far-reaching effects.  While discussing this rigidity issue, I realized that I had come across one of those nodes when I was a teenager that, perhaps, has allowed me to see that there are other ways in this world.  This node is so insignificant as to seem trivial and utterly forgettable, yet, it popped into my head yesterday during this conversation.  What was this great turning point, you ask?  I know you are asking.  Go on, admit it!  I've so enthralled you, you can't wait to hear.  OK, let me elucidate.

When I was a lad, I remember watching various soap commercials on TV, where the user of said soap was in the shower, lathering up.  I recall commenting to my friends as we watched one such ad that it was silly how they never showed anyone using a wash cloth in the shower, just lathering with the raw bar.  One friend looked at me like I had three heads and said he showered with the naked bar and had never used a wash cloth in the shower.  I was shocked.  My parents had schooled me to use a wash cloth in order to give the skin a good scrubbing.  But the point is, I learned to use a wash cloth and assumed that everyone did the same.  Suddenly, I saw that my way wasn't the only way.

Insignificant.  Mundane.  Totally un-memorable.  This event was meaningless in my life, this wash cloth discussion.  Yet, thirty or so years later, it's something I remember, a lesson I retain.  I'm a more tolerant person today because of that event.  Well...I think I'm tolerant, anyway.  Ask those who know me and you may get a different answer.  But what do they know?  I'm right; they're wrong.  It's my way or the highway, baby!  Booyah!

Ahem.  Sorry.  I mis-spoke.  My apologies.

Forks in the road.  Nodes of choice.  It's the little moments that can be the tipping points, I think.  A butterfly  flaps its wings...

Just pondering that this morning, and thought I'd share.

The end.

Sometimes I read a story - especially short stories, my faves - and I just love it.  It makes me laugh or makes me wonder, or maybe just makes me go, "Huh.  Well ain't that a thing?".  Other times I read a story and think, "That was dumb." or "I don't get it.  What was that supposed to be about?"

That ever happen to you?

Of course it does.  So what's my point?  My point is, I often find the stories I really dig (that means enjoy for the 60's impared) are the stories that other people say, "That was dumb."  And the stories I hate are touted as "deep" or "stunning" or "wonderful imagery".  It makes me feel stupid.  Why don't I get it like they do?  Why can't I see the subtle nuances?  Why can't I extrapolate the deeper meaning?  Can you tell I have issues? 

Fortunately for me, I get over it.  I feel like a beer swilling, cigar smoking curmudgeon but, dammit, I like what I like.  Spin me a yarn; take me away.  That's what I want a story to do.  To me, the rest is pomp, froofery (I may have made that word up), and a dash of Diane Chambers (remember Cheers?) arrogance. 

Either that, or I'm stupid.  And I think the jury's still out.

Just thought I'd mention it.  You see, there are some editors I work with that I feel I'll be butting heads with soon for just this lack of ocular parity (that means seeing eye to eye in fancy language - I''m not good at fancy language.). 

Froofery.  Bah.

I just found these two sites.  I'm not endorsing, but posting for your perusal:


This one let's you swap books (and CD's and DVD's) with others for the cost of postage.

http://www.paperbackswap.com/index.php

This one just had free stuff that people are getting rid of.  Apparently you can request an item, and often someone responds who has one to give away.  The page isn't loading for me right now, but I post anyway.

http://www.freecycle.org

I got one of those emails yesterday that says I have to make a wish when I scroll down to the Cat in the Hat image, and then pass it on to ten people.  "It really works!"  claims some anonymous yahoo.  Now, the person who sent it to me knows better.  I think perhaps she passed it on by accident.  She's too intelligent to believe that silliness - and she didn't send it as a joke, because there was no punch line.  Must have been a mistake.

Anyway, remember how I said I am always doing or saying things that I shouldn't because (like Kathi) I have no governor on my brain?  Remember that?  (If you don't, just scroll down.  It's an entry from a couple of days ago.  And why aren't you up to date on my blog entries?  I'm not writing this stuff for fun, you know!  Sheesh.)  Well, with my brain governor off-line, I responded to that silly email.  Mmm hmm, I did.  And it goes to my friend's work email.  Yep.  It does.  She works for a financial planner/stock brokery kind of guy, and besides him, she is the only other person in the office.  Think he might see it?  Dunno.

Know what I wrote?  Here, I'll paste it for you to see (I changed the names to protect both the innocent and me):

Whoa!  Sally, I don't believe it!  This really worked!  I wished for a longer penis, and over night I've turned into a tripod.  It's tough with only two-legged pants, but I'm managing.  I just put it down one leg.  It makes it look like I have one fat leg and one skinny leg, but until someone designs three-legged pants, it'll have to do. It's like I'm running a three-legged race all by myself!  Mrs. iwill333 seems to enjoy it, though. 

That Cat in the Hat is one magical feline.  In his honor, I've named my enlarged appendage Thing Three.

Next time I'll be more specific with my wishes. ;-)

iwill333

Man, I never learn...

I was reading my friend Kathi's blog today, and found a kindred soul.  It seems I am not alone in shoving my foot - and sometimes both feet - into my yapping maw.  I do it often, and I've not learned from it.  Not at all.

Here's an example:

At a job I had one time, I was walking down the hall and saw the CFO walking with the CEO's secretary.  They were both carrying boxes that had miscellaneous  items in them.  I laughed and said, "Hey, Jackie, clearing out your desk?  What did ya' get fired?  Ha ha ha."

Then I went into the office area, where I had been heading, and the phone rings.  The receptionist tells me it's for me; it's my supervisor.  I pick up  the extension and my super is kind of shocked sounding and says she just saw from her window the two women I just mentioned above going out to the parking lot.  She asks what's going on.  I told her I didn't know, and I also told her about my comment.

Dead silence.

Then, "You idiot!  I think she was just fired!"

Oops.

That is but one example.  The list is endless.  Fortunately, I can laugh at it now.  In fact, I've used that story as an example when I used to teach Customer Service classes and we were talking about "think before you speak".  Yeah, yeah, those who can, do; those who can't, teach.

Somebody is bugging me to post a blog entry.  I know, I know, it's been a while.  Unfortunately, my writing - of all kinds - seems to be getting short shrift of late.  That pretty much sucks.  I mean, if I'm to be a world famous author, I have to write something, right?

So, apropos of nothing, here's an observation:  Have you ever noticed that the loudest, most blustery folks are really the ones with issues?  How do I know?  Well, I have 4 kids, see?  Two of them can really escalate when they don't get their way, or if they take a position on a topic and are being told they are wrong.  They are also rather bossy at times - in a loud way.  Now, here's the kicker.  One of the two is almost 11 years old.  Tonight she nearly became physically ill from watching a Harry Potter movie on TV.  She was perched over the commode getting ready to return the fried won tons (perhaps from whence they came?) she'd had for dinner.  From a goofy movie!  And this isn't the first time this has happened.  She had a similar episode a year or so ago at a sleep over, where she became sick after be scared by Back to the Future.  What?!  Back to the Future?  Yep.

The other little bossy moo is 6 years old.  She is always right (just ask her), and loves to tell everyone what to do and how to act.  What's her button?  Storms.  Ever since we moved to SC, she's been worried about hurricanes and tornadoes.  We had a tornado warning a couple of weeks ago, and when the rain, thunder, lightning, and wind kicked up, she threw up.  Yep.  Tossed her cookies.  Then, two days ago, she asked me some question about hurricanes.  Just a question.  Then she said, "Oh, I probably shouldn't talk about this."  And then she went to the bathroom and threw up.

Ain't life grand?

On a lighter note, in a town not too far from where I live, they are holding their annual Grits Festival.  For real.  Now, I like grits, I do.  I'm a Yankee, born and bred, but I admit to a fondness for the nasty corn meal mush.  Especially here, where they do dishes like Shrimp and Grits, with gravy, bacon, and cheese.  Mmmmm.  But I digress.  A festival for the stuff, that's what I was talking about.  They have a festival!  People get into vats of the mush and roll around in it, and then go on the ferris wheel.  Neat, huh?

That's what makes this country great, isn't it?  It takes all kinds, and all kinds are taken.  I love this place!

Well, it's over.  50k in 30 days.  Whew!  I wasn't sure I could do it.  And I've neglected you, my poor little Journal.  For this, I'm sorry (even though I only have 3 friends).

I was going to take a breather.  I was averaging 3 to 4 hours of sleep each night during the last week of NaNo, cutting it close, and getting in under the wire at the end.  So, I said to myself (who is the only one who listens to me, most of the time), take a little break.  Sure, the novel's not done, but you deserve a rest, ya sure you betcha.

Nope.

A friend (and I use that term loosely) from my writing group has decided that I will finish the last 10k of the novel by next week.  This was seconded and thirded by two other friends in said group.  Sigh.  So here I sit, blogcrastinating yet again.

Anyway...

I was encouraging another writer friend who was questioning whether she had a novel in her, and I wrote the following, which I will include here for any other writers who think it takes someone special to write a novel. 

Now, writing a good novel, well, that's a different story...   :-)

----

I don't know your writing process - what you do when you write - so I don't know what might nudge you to that next step, but, maybe if I tell you how my wip progressed, you might see how ridiculous it is that I even tried it.  Yet I'm 72k into it. 

This novel did not start out as a novel.  It was just an exercise to get my juices flowing after not having written for a while.  I just took a writing prompt from a flash contest and started writing.  I had no plot in mind, no characters developed in my head - nothing.  I wasn't even trying to write something for the flash contest.  I was simply writing.  It started with two characters walking down the street, one carrying a sack.  I didn't know who they were, where they were going, or what was in the sack.

I kept writing, and the story kept unfolding as I wrote.  Still no notions about what was happening.  When I took that thread of those two characters about as far as I could without it getting reeeeeaaallllyyyy boring, I decided I needed another character.  So I wrote about Trina's (one of the two characters) mother in a flashback.   She was an alcoholic and a bad mommy.  She was also interesting to me.  So I wrote a bunch about her.  Then I went back and forth between the two threads. 

When that was losing steam, I added a dad, and a couple of nuns.  I don't know why.  I just did.  Someone in my NaNo group (I won't say who, Kathi) told me I needed to write a spin-off novel with these two nuns because she'd enjoyed that bit so much.

Then add a strange voice in the dark, a couple of nasty henchmen types, and lots of flashbacks to tie all the threads together (because I had to figure out, after the fact, how these characters related).  I bet I was 60k into the story before I knew what was in the sack from the beginning of the story.  I was somewhere between 50 and 60k before I knew where the two characters from the beginning were going.  People in the NaNo group would ask, "Where are they going?"  And I'd answer, "Don't know, they haven't told me yet."

So here I sit at 72k, I now know where they're going, I know what's in the sack, and I know there's a big showdown between the goodies and the baddies coming up.  I don't know what kind of showdown or what will transpire, but, hey, I've come this far blindly, what's another 10k or so to wrap it up?

I don't know if this helps or not, but it's the absolute truth.  This went from exercise to flash to short story to really long short story to "hey, this might be a novel!".  All with no clue - and still no clue. 

If I can do it, I have no doubt that you, you writers out there, can.  You see, I've never written a novel (technically, I still haven't - 10k to go).  I started one once.  After 2 years it's at about 20k.  Before that, the longest short story I'd ever written was about 5k.  Before that, the longest was about 2k.  I fancied myself a short story writer - preferably flash.  Somehow, I just let the "muse" or the subconscious or the collective unconscious or whatever have free reign.

I bet there's a novel inside all of you writers.  It's just a matter of letting it out.  So...what do you want to do?

 ---

 
Mork, calling Orson.  Come in, Orson.

NaNo, NaNo.

Here's a nice little article about our business.  It's very flattering - but that might be because I wrote it.  Hey, you do what you can, right?

Don't judge me.

Oh, btw, I have no idea how this upload stuff works, so hopefully you can click on this deal and magnify it.  Or maybe you just need to get your own magnifying glasses out.  Don't be so lazy.  Sheesh.

Not much to say today as I have to go do some "serious writin' " or the harpies will be on my butt.

But I have to say one thing.   

Why is it that when I log on to LJ,  I find on my fine little homepage this message:  "You've only made three friends."?

Only?  Is three not enough?  Well, how many is enough?  It's a daily blow to my self-esteem, and I don't care for it.

If the LJ gods are watching, here's what I would like my homepage to greet me with:  "Holy crap!  You have three friends!  That's awesome!  If only your mother-in-law could see you now - boy, was she wrong."  Can you do that LJ gods?  Can ya?  Huh?

Nope, this has nothing to do with little robots.  I'm just trying to be funny in a punny way. 

Shut up.

I'm a full-fledged member of the "Geeks Who Write Books" club, known as the NaNoWriMo forum.  You know, for a bunch of writers, you'd think they could have come up with a more clever name.  A name like...well, I can't come up with anything clever either, but hey, I'm new at this.  This nano thing has been around since the early 1600's I think.  They've had time to work on the name thing.

So now I have to write a novel in a month.  Well, most of a novel.  I already have one started - and if you say I'm cheating you can just bite me.  Sorry.  That was mean.  I don't really want any dental violence, thank you.  So a novel in a month.  Piece of cake.  Except the last (and coincidentally first) novel I tried to write is still only 25% done, and I started it sometime around the Eisenhower administration.  Blah.

So, on with the show, I guess.  See you all on the other side of November.  If you don't hear from me by December 2nd or 3rd, send out a search party.  Or any kind of party for that matter - as long as there's some kind of distilled or fermented grain involved.

Cheers

I was making myself a banana split tonight, and as I did, the song from the old Saturday morning TV show, The Banana Splits started to run through my head.  Anyone remember this show?  This got me tra-la-la-ing down the rabbit hole into Sid and Marty Krofft Television Land:  Sigmund and the Sea Monsters, The Wayout Space Nuts, The Bugaloos, HR Pufnstuf, Wonderbug, Lidsville.  Man those dudes must've been smoking some good stuff, I think.   And what's with all the Brits?

Then I tried explaining it to my kids, who looked at me the way a cow looks at a new gate and told me I was old.

So, we launched into YouTube.  What a boon to mankind that site is, eh?

For your edification:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZL2WeRHqqXo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xvUvC2dDKWA  (although I recommend the "Peter Platter" full episode - even references the Beetles)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KmoYJogmieY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6LZzVCpYDY (this was my favorite of all the S&M Krofft shows - S&M???)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JA3FFT54Ehs
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOyG9WN9udI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ZPTEMxtXKY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XRKa6uwqW0


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXUSOLB3-NA (OK, I don't think this is Krofft, but same era, and great spandex! Grrrrr.   Funky theme song, too)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rnSU2AalfKg (Another non-Krofft, but check out the huuuge glasses.  When she transformed into Isis with her long hair and her little white dress, I used to get little boy woodies.  I did.)

I guess I am old.

And so ends another night of blogcrastination - with a side order of youtubrastination as well.

I looked up an address of a church today, and it turned out to be 11001Dorchester Rd.  Now, that number tickled me, because it could be binary, right?  Well, I think it could be, I don't really understand this stuff.  Then I thought it would be really funny if 11001 in binary converted to 666 in decimal.  'Cuz it's a church, see?

Not happy not knowing, I Googled around a bit and found a binary to decimal converter.  Here it is in case you are in need of such things:  http://www.easysurf.cc/cnver17.htm#b2tob10

Anyway, 11001=25.  Not so funny.  But in my search I also learned about bits and bytes.  Did you know...

In the binary graph, each group of four binary digits, individually called bits, together as four bits form a nybble. Two nybbles, eight bits, equal a byte. Two bytes, four nybbles or sixteen bits, is a word, in programming terms anyway.

...and further more...

A byte is eight bits grouped and considered a unit. There are seldom used associated terms used in conjunction with byte. A nybble is half a byte, or four bits. As was determined in the '20s, half of a nybble, a quarter (of a byte) or 25 cents, is two bits. A word is two bytes, or sixteen bits; a large word is four bytes, or 32 bits. A tongue twister is eight bytes, 64 bits (no kidding).

Isn't that something?  I've found a new way to blogcrastinate!

Now, if someone could tell me why the above information is all in different font sizes, that would be something as well.

Yup.  It's distracting, it is.

So this dude I mentioned - the sensitive one who is getting enemas from Madonna - he said a page a day, right?  And I said, "Hecks yeah, I can do that!", right? 

So what happened yesterday?

And 3 days ago?

Well, I'm not actually writing a page a day, but I think if you did a page count on what I am writing, it might average a page a day.  So...I'm going with that.  See, yesterday I couldn't keep my eyes open past 10:00pm.  The thing is, I don't get started writing before then.  What with the business, the kids, homework, various and sundry enemas...

I used to could crank out (well it was a slow crank, I'll admit) stuff at midnight, 1:00am, even later sometimes.  Not now.  I have to get up waaaay too early, and have too much occupying my day.  So I'm trying to find my niche, my groove, my place of ultimate mojo. 

I'm still looking.

So here is tonight's foray into writing, step by step:

1. Check email
2. Check other email
3. Check business email (why?  I'll be checking it in the morning, and anyone who would email me is asleep anyway)
4. Check z7
5. Perhaps post
6. Check other writing forum
7. Perhaps post
8. *new and improved time spanker* Check blog
9. *new and improved time spanker2* Make blog entry
10. Open writing work in progress
11.  Stare at it and wonder what I should do
12 Get a snack
13. TBA (I hope this will be filled with "wrote 3,000 kick ass words")
14. Wipe drool from keyboard, wake wife from couch, go to bed to start it all again in a few hours

So, a few weeks ago this writer friend tells me I need to quit pissing around and write something.  Well, he said it nicer - but it's what he meant.  You see, I've gone through some big moves since July, which I won't bore whomever is reading this with, and put my writing on the proverbial back burner.

This friend, he says, "Just write a page a day.  That's all."  Sounded simple.  I might could do that!  So I sat down to write a page.  But what to write?  I'd been out of the groove for so long, I daren't (is that a legit contraction?) try messing with my works in progress.  I could really screw them up.

Now what?

I went to an old standby.  I used a prompt.  There is this writing site I poke my head into from time to time - a site I used much more before z7 - and this site has a little group that I'm a part of, with this cool guy who runs contests with prompts.  So I grabbed one of those.  Why not?  No harm, no foul.  No pain, no gain.  No guts, no glory.  You snooze, you lose.  Good night, and don't let the bedbugs...er, whatever.

Long story longer, that prompt got me going, and the story that it started now has a word count over 13K.

Just a page a day.

Testing this thing