Absurd Person Singular

How Ironic!

2012-03-03T19:37:00.000-05:00

My last entry was a guest blog from Alexis, a fellow member of the world of words. One of the things I said in the post is that I think it's wonderful how everyone in this space really seems to supports each other. And then along comes this...

Literary agent Janet Reid (whom I've mentioned here before, thanks to her 100-word competitions) just served up a beauty: the Liz Norris Pay It Forward Writing Contest.

To celebrate the publication of Unraveling by debut author Liz Norris she is sponsoring a contest.

We're looking for a debut writer with a great voice and energetic prose (like Liz!)

We're looking for a novel that grabs us, enchants us, and keeps us glued to the page (like UNRAVELING!)

We're looking for the Next Liz Norris!

The prize is:

1. Registration for the Backspace Writing Conference in New York, May 24-26
2. Hotel for three nights (Thurs, Fri, Sat)
3. Travel stipend of $300
4. Lunch with Liz Norris' agent

The winner will be announced on the day Unraveling is published: Tuesday April 24, 2012.

Yes, I've already submitted Nightmares. I wonder if I can keep my fingers crossed for a few months?

Writing with Integrity: A Guest Post By Alexis Jenny

2012-03-02T20:05:00.001-05:00

I've been a writer my entire life. But I've been a member of the "writer community" in cyberspace for around a year. Something I have come to learn and appreciate is that everybody is so supportive.

- There are agents who have blogs where they dispense advice; some even offer to look at query letters and critique them.

- Likewise, all of the authors I've "met" really encourage and support others.

It's great and a very sharp contrast to my perception of the Cleveland music scene, circa 1990 -- which I tried to break into -- whereby bands seemed to feel they were competing against each other. Perhaps that was just me; but it really felt that way.

So it is in this spirit of support that I would like to share something from Alexis's blog. Alexis was very kind and posted an entry of mine the other week. I offered to return the favor.

So without further ado...

Writing with Integrity Pt. 2: Plagiarism & Libel
When I was in college, there was a huge emphasis on the consequences of plagiarism. And I don’t mean, “If you steal someone’s essay, you’ll get reported for cheating and you’ll fail the class.”

No. If you got caught plagiarizing, you were expelled. Period.

It didn’t matter if you claimed it was accidental. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t verbatim. If you took something and didn’t cite it properly, you were done.

I loved that.

When I was a teenager, I joined an online writing community where I posted my melodramatic poetry. It was always appearing in other places by people who’d steal it. It wasn’t even that good, but having it stolen made me feel vulnerable and outraged. I can’t imagine how much worse I would have felt had someone plagiarized an entire novel of mine. But the fact is that most unscrupulous people don’t plagiarize whole works. They steal little bits. They’re sneaky like that.

But little bits can matter a lot. If someone steals your character names and the basic premise of your story, that can really kill your original work. Even if the thief’s prose is original, the ideas are stolen.

As an editor, this drives me crazy. Receiving plagiarized submissions is utterly offensive to me. I’d like not to have to Google everyone’s stories. I’d like people, in general, to be more ethical. In short, I’d like to be able to expel people from the universal writing community if they’re caught plagiarizing.

Another problem is libel. As writers, we often base our stories off personal experiences and our characters off real people. But this isn’t acceptable when you purposely create a fictional character to perfectly mimic someone you despise so you can harm their reputation through your writing. Um, duh.

Are these really such fine lines? Is this not common sense?

Sometimes I have to wonder.

About Alexis:

I'm a freelance writer living in western Pennsylvania with my husband and son. I'm also a content and acquisitions editor for Grit City Publications, a revolutionary group that publishes serial fiction and abstract art in a new medium called emotobooks. In my spare time, I read, cook, occasionally practice yoga, and almost always obsess over the AMC series, "The Walking Dead." I also like tea.

You can contact me by visiting my blog, Bunny Ears & Bat Wings: Discovery Through Writing, where you'll find excerpts of my writing life, bits of writing advice, and book reviews.

The Results Are In....

2012-02-29T20:15:00.000-05:00

...and the winners are...

Late last week, I sponsored a contest, my self-admitted "blatant" attempt to get visitors to my blog. It had to be the easiest content, ever: follow me, and win a chance to get a copy of one of my books.

Two people took me up on the offer. Both were friends. So (at the risk of whining) while I am disappointed that I didn't get any people outside of my circle, I am very grateful that I have such supportive friends.

David and Sharon will both get a book of their choosing. I know Sharon's address, and have reached out to David.

But wait...there's more...

Since my generosity knows no bounds (quiet, everyone) I also have decided to give a copy to Dianne, who started following me the day before I announced the contest.

Assuming nothing goes awry, as mentioned before, my short story "Worm Herding" will be appearing in the upcoming Pill Hill Press compilation BUGS. The publisher says it will come out in April. So I may try a similar contest again.

Let me conclude by repeating that I really am grateful to each and every one of you, those who follow me openly, as well as those who subscribe.

Castle: "Once Upon A Crime"

2012-02-28T21:25:00.000-05:00

What a Grimm case Castle and Beckett investigated this week. Ha-ha-ha. But seriously...

You might have noticed that I didn't review part 2 of "Pandora" (titled "Linchpin") yet. That would be because we haven't seen it yet. But we were able to catch this week's show live last night. I'm sure we'll get back to "Pandora" soon enough. But at least my fears have been allayed; whatever the doomsday thing was, Castle and Beckett don't die...what a relief!

This episode, to me, was very "satisfying" because it represented a return to the "basics." Though I'm getting ahead of myself since I haven't yet seen the second part of the previous story arc, shows like that one and a previous "save New York from a nuclear device" episode just seem too...I don't know...BIG. Let's just let Castle and Beckett solve tricky, quirky murders in New York City, and leave preventing World War III to James Bond.

So down from my soapbox...

There were two things about the "Who Done It" that I found particularly clever:

1. This is the first time (which I can recall) that someone went from victim to suspect to guilty party. I thought the attempt at a switcheroo -- arresting the extortionist brother-in-law -- was a noble effort, but I didn't fall for it; I looked at the clock, read 10:45, and said, "Too early."

2. It was a visual clue which led to solving the case. Though I have no doubt that when we first saw "Sleeping Beauty" the bow was, in fact, vertical, I didn't catch it. But Castle did. Nice touch.

Otherwise, I registered a few noteworthy lines:

"I'm going to erase that image from my mind with a bottle of scotch."
"You're cute when you get angry. Not when you get angry at me."

Esposito in a suit? What the ... ?

And (yes) as always there were plenty of looks. But the best:

Castle: "There is a very avant garde subculture of fairy tale role playing."
Beckett: "And you know this how...?" (Good look.)
Castle, dreamily: "Bo Peep." (GREAT look.)

Based on the lack of a preview, I'm guessing there is no new show next Monday. So I imagine we'll have time to watch last week's in the interim.

Win My Book! Or, Out-And-Out Bribery...

2012-02-24T17:06:00.003-05:00

As much as I hate to beg, plead, and cajole, I would like to ask for some help in increasing the number of my blog's followers. If you look to the left and down just slightly from these words, you'll see my followers. I've had the same eight boxes staring back at me for pretty much the entire year to date. Actually, one was just added, between the time I first started writing this entry and my posting of it.

Bear in mind, I'm happy to see your faces; I just want to see MORE, for two reasons:

1. Well, ego. I've been doing this blog for more than six months. It would make me feel good to know I've got a growing audience...
2. But this one really is the big one. I'm trying to interest an agent -- and eventually a publisher -- in one or more of my books. One of the things that both of these constituencies will try to determine is whether I have a following. And one way they'll determine that is by looking at my blog.

So, if you subscribe, but are not publicly following, please consider doing so. If you have a Google account, e.g., GMail, I think it's as simple as entering your Gmail account name (and perhaps your password). Then, please write to (at least) two friends and ask them to look at my blog. If they don't like it, so be it. If they do, please ask them to follow.

To sweeten the pot...

I'll tie this effort to a contest. I will offer an autographed copy of one of my books, your choice, to anyone who adds his or her name as a follower. If you're already a follower, refer someone, and have him or her post in the comments "I was referred by X." I will then put both of your names in the hat. If you don't have a Google account and don't want to create just for this purpose, I suppose you could just subscribe by choosing one of the "Subscribe To Absurd Person Singular" options just above the followers; you'll have to post a comment telling me that you subscribed in this manner.

The books are:

Haunting Valley
Scrappy Information Security
Scrappy BCP

The deadline is 9:00 p.m. EST Tuesday.

Let me conclude by stressing that I really would appreciate the effort. And I really do -- always -- appreciate the support.

If At First You Don't Succeed....

2012-02-23T22:12:00.000-05:00

This is a long one. But I think it's a good one.

Back in September-ish, I felt certain that I would have a good October-ish.

Why?

Because I had bravely sent out four of my children into the world.

- I sent Udopia to the Main Street Rag (a publisher), which had an open submission period for novellas.

- I sent ten poems to publisher Manic D Press.

- I sent my short story "Tarantulas On Leashes" to Allegory Magazine.

- I sent four other short stories to Uncle John's Flush Fiction.

I fully expected great things to come of this effort. You could say I'm an optimistic fool. But if I didn't think they were good -- and worthy of publishing -- then why would anyone else? And why would I bother?

By November 30, all four had said "no." Actually, one did not respond at all, but their website says “You will be contacted only if the editors are interested in reading your entire manuscript.” (Fair enough.)

Naturally I was bummed. But did I contemplate slitting my wrists? Of course not!

What did I do? I guess you could say I channeled my inner Gloria Gaynor. Since you're probably scratching your head, she's the singer of the 70s disco hit, "I Will Survive." That song is featured in the movie Chicken Little, which is in heavy rotation in our house right now.

So I declared that my works were "single" again, and free to seek out other fish in the sea. (Finding Nemo is big right now, too.) I emailed five poems to Freshwater. I sent "Tarantulas" to Best Fiction.

Fast forward a few months...

Early last week, I had the same feeling: something good was about to happen. Unfortunately, the week did not start out so auspiciously:

- On Monday, I learned I did not win radio station WCLV's love poem contest; I didn't even place in the top ten. And, Freshwater said "no" to all five poems.

- Tuesday, nothing either way.

- Wednesday, as I mentioned two posts ago, I hooked up with a few former colleagues at a luncheon. I showed Jack my infosec book.
   "This would make a great introduction to information security college course syllabus," he said.
"Or, at the corporate level, instead of having a training program, hand them this book," I replied.
   His eyebrows went up. As it turns out, he recently started working for a new company, and has been tasked with improving their information security program...and creating a business contingency program as well.
   "I also have a book on BCP," I said.
   His eyebrows went up again.
   We'll see what happens.

- On Thursday, I heard back from Pill Hill Press regarding "Worm Herding." And what I heard was "yes!" The downside is that the pay is only $10. The upside...well, there is plenty of upside: an additional fiction credit, my name out there. You get the idea. Yay!

- On Friday, the editor of the Disaster Resource GUIDE reached out to me and asked me to write an article. Of course I'll be jumping at the chance.

The weekend and early part of this week were kind of sedate. I kept hoping that I would get more good news which I could share...that "Never Mind The Nonsense, Here's The Sex Truncheons" would be picked up by Pill Hill Press (alas, it was rejected) or that an agent would ask to see Nightmares (alas, none did).

And, like before, I feel good about this coming week. More good stuff is on the way. I know it. Yes, maybe I'm just an optimistic fool. (OK, so there's no "maybe.")

The point to all of this is, I got one solid "victory" ("Worm Herding"), one unexpected win (the Disaster Resource GUIDE article), and one possible lead (the possibility of work with Jack's company).

So I really can't complain about these past two weeks. Stay tuned...

Castle: "Pandora"

2012-02-20T17:30:00.000-05:00

Since this is a two-parter, I'll reserve complete judgment until we've seen the second half. But a few observations about the first Pandora episode.

It was a good, taut thriller. Of course, Castle almost always is.

I loved the scene where the CIA agents tracked the phone call using their "cool toys," or whatever term it was that Jennifer Beals used. (Side note: I hope I look that good when I'm her age...um...never mind.) I especially liked the way they (the writers) had her mind working: "Narrow it down to calls under a minute. She would have kept it brief."

I had to rewind and re-watch the scene where Captain Gates walked away from Castle and Beckett in anger, and nearly knocked Esposito over. Funny!

I also smiled when Castle said they were working to "save the country from a nameless cataclysmic event." Another day, another apocalypse, blah, blah.

It was a cool (and well choreographed) move when Thomas Gage grabbed Beckett's gun and turned it on her in the parking garage.

The looks:

- Castle's glance when his mother said she approved of Alexis's new intern position. "That doesn't make me feel any better," he said with one eyebrow cocked.

- Castle's general awkwardness when he first saw Alexis at the crime scene.
- Jennifer Beals's steely eyed glance at Beckett when she explained what was going on, down in the secret Batcave.

A few downsides:

One, I thought they tried to build up mystery and suspense at the beginning: a disappearing body...an escaped prisoner...what is going on? But if you saw the previews, you knew that the CIA was involved. So of course there would be spy hijinks.

Two, I don't object to two-part episodes per se. But don't treat it as a cliff hanger. Oh no! Castle and Beckett are in a car that is sinking in the East River? Will they get out? If the show it to continue, probably. (And if you stuck around for the previews, it's pretty obvious that they do.) It reminded me of a mid-season episode of Grey's Anatomy. There is a ferry boat accident, and everyone is down at the pier helping. Then a stunned man climbs up out from the water, grabs Meredith's leg, and pulls her in.

"Do you think she dies?" asked my sister.
"Yes," I said. "I think they'll kill her off and rename the show 'George's Anatomy.' "

But to be on the safe side, since I won't get to see it for a few days, if doomsday does come, don't spoil it for me."

.

Helping A Fellow Propeller Head Writer

2012-02-20T11:37:00.001-05:00

It gives me great pleasure to write this entry. I'm always happy to help out any fellow author, more so if he or she is a friend.

The other day I had a luncheon with the IAPP, a professional privacy organization that I belong to. In attendance were two former colleagues, Jack and Matt.

Early on in the lunch conversation, Matt said, "So I hear you have a book of ghost stories that has been published."

I said, "I do. And a book on infosec."

As it turns out, Matt has written his first book, also on information security, specifically penetration testing. It's titled, "Wireless Reconnaissance in Penetration Testing." He's thrilled, and I'm thrilled for him. There is nothing like the feeling of knowing that your first book is coming out...well, actually holding the book probably beats it. But he'll know that feeling soon enough.

He expects it to be published in Q3 of this year. But for now, it is available for pre-order on Amazon. I'm sure once it comes out, I'll enjoy reading it. Matt is one of those people--like me--who has good technical chops, but can explain things in human terms. (Though between you all and me, I think his technical knowledge is deeper than mine.)

So check out the preview now, and check back here at some point in the future for another shout-out.

.

Reading 'Riting & Research

2012-02-17T20:12:00.001-05:00

One of the aspects of writing that I truly enjoy is the research. I really do like getting my facts straight. Looking at it from a positive side, if I toss out an interesting and intriguing tidbit, it might prompt a reader to do some research as well, and learn something in the process. Looking at it from the paranoid side, I maintain this lingering fear that if I blatantly fabricate something--even if it's a really obscure factoid--someone, somewhere will say, "That's not how it works!"

That's one of the reasons that I admire Dan Brown. Whether or not you like his novels, you have to appreciate the amount of research that went into in Da Vinci Code and more so into Angels & Demons. When reading the latter, I pictured the author walking the streets of Rome, head down, looking for obscure, ancient markings in the sidewalk. It's staggering, if you really stop to analyze it.

Likewise, in one of the short stories of my book-in-progress No Strings Attached, the main character has a skydiving equipment malfunction. (I don't think I'm giving anything away; it's revealed on page 2 or so.) So I did a little basic research:

- At what altitude does a skydiver jump from a plane?
- How far and for how long does one fall before pulling the rip cord?
- If the parachute fails, how long does it take to hit ground?

Not exactly in the same ballpark as Mr. Brown's work. But you get the idea.

And sometimes, I learn something...interesting.

In a previous post, I wrote about a short story that I just completed, "Never Mind The Nonsense, Here’s The Sex Truncheons." The name, of course, is a play on the Sex Pistols. I wanted to come up with a weapon that was appropriate for Victorian-era London. Then it hit me (pun intended) that London Bobbies were famous for not carrying guns, but rather batons. So I turned to Wikipedia, and learned that a truncheon or baton also is called a cosh, Paddy wacker, billystick, billy club, nightstick, sap, blackjack, stick.

That kind of sheds new light on the old nursery rhyme...

This old man, he played one,
He played knick-knack on my thumb;
Knick-knack paddywhack,
Give a dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.

...doesn't it?

Talk About Bad Timing....

2012-02-15T20:10:00.005-05:00

Even though the publication date states February 20, clearly this issue of the National Enquirer came out before Whitney Houston's unfortunate and untimely death.

I cringe when I think about what (negative, ghastly things) this week's issue will say.

Castle: "The Blue Butterfly"

2012-02-13T21:20:00.000-05:00

We finally got around to watching the 1940s film noire episode of "Castle." What wasn't there to like about this one?

I must admit, when I saw the previews, I had a teeny bit of fear that it would be some hokey time travel story. So I was glad to see that it wasn't. The fact that Castle put himself and the people he knows into the tale as he was reading it made perfect sense to me. As I writer, I basically do the same thing. When I create a character, he or she at least looks like someone: someone I know, someone I see in the halls at work, an actor, or just a made-up face. The point is, it's easier to create and build a character if that character has a face.

The way they chose to introduce the flashback was clever. Richard Castle pours himself a stiff drink, and Joe Flynn picks it up and downs it. They used the same effect at the end, as Joe and Vera watching the flames morphs into Castle and Beckett sitting, talking to the older couple.

I thought it was great that the 1940s versions of Joe and Vera had New York accents. It's amazing, though, how the present-day versions lost them.

I found it hilarious that Castle tried to teach Ryan how to properly say an Irish slang term (boyo) that the latter's fictional counterpart could not pronounce.

Speaking of words, I adored all of the 1940s detective-speak:

"A head that was ringing like church bells."
"That songbird's got golden pipes."
"There I was, covered in the discards of the blue plate special."

I laughed out loud when Castle realized what the Blue Butterfly was and said, "That's why Stan Banks was killed? Why am I narrating?"

Until looking it up, I didn't realize that the elder Joe was played by Chad Everett. Boy, he looked like Clint Eastwood.

And the plot? Outstanding. Plus, it was nice to see Beckett get the "a-ha" moment for once. Usually it's Castle who makes the critical connection which cracks the case. But this time it was Beckett who heard the reference to the shoes and tied it to the image in the photo. (Shoes...big surprise there.)

The looks? As always, they were plentiful. My two favorite were:

1. The look on Castle's face when he asked Ryan, "Can I drive?" and Ryan said, "Sure."
2. The look on (again) Castle's face when Beckett caught him referring to Vera as Kate. "No! I said 'fate' " he protested, clearly in vain, based on her look.

What did you think? Feel free to share your thoughts.

Funny Foto #9

2012-02-12T21:21:00.000-05:00

"Homemade?"

Yeah, if you live in a factory! Or just have a shrink-wrap and labeling machine, I suppose.

"Never Mind The Nonsense..."

2012-02-09T20:11:00.001-05:00

A few posts back, after relating my saga of the speed-writing and last-minute-submitting of "Worm Herding" to Pill Hill Press, I stepped back and reflected on some of their other open submission calls.

One that intrigued me was called "CONQUEST THROUGH DETERMINATION," which will be a compilation of stories in the steampunk genre. If you don't know what steampunk is, don't worry...I didn't either at first. In a nutshell, it's a story set in the late 1800s (the era of steam) that includes some sort of futuristic contraption that runs on steam. The grandaddy of them all is the Nautilus, the fantastic submarine of Jules Verne's 20,00 Leagues Under The Sea.

I really wanted to write something. But the deadline was less than two weeks away. I pondered and pondered, but couldn't come up with even a story idea. I considered reaching out to my friend and past co-conspirator Bill with the thought that we could bounce ideas back and forth and come up with complementary tales...sort of, Around The World In 80 Days, told from two different perspectives.

Actually, I did try reaching out to Bill, but we couldn't connect.

And then...inspiration!

I took the "punk" in steampunk literarlly, and crafted a piece about London's first punk string quartet, who were all the rage in 1879.

Since it's just over 3,000 words, it's too long for this space. But I have posted the entire thing on my "In Progress Stuff" page. It's not due until Monday; if you have any feedback -- especially any typos -- please share it in the comments.

So without any further ado....

Never Mind The Nonsense, Here’s The Sex Truncheons!

The Bigger They Come...

2012-02-06T20:10:00.000-05:00

I'd heard that he had fallen on hard times since his cinema career ended. But I was shocked to see just how low this movie icon had sunk. I mean, the guy has worked with Ewan McGregor, Harrison Ford, Jimmy Smits, Christopher Lee, and Liam Neeson, to name a few.

His image was everywhere. He was an icon, an inspiration to people everywhere.

"Look at what he's done for himself. Maybe I can do it, too."

Alas, how times change.

Below is a photo I took in front of a gas station near my house.

Oh, R2, what has become of you?

I'm so sad.

A Little Good Press

2012-02-04T20:15:00.000-05:00

WAY back in 2008, my friend Bill and I published Haunting Valley, a collection of ghost stories from the communities around the Chagrin Valley.

One of the stories details the "exploits" of two giant carved stone eagle statues that sit at the end of a driveway on Music Street. In my story, they come to life, swooping down out of the night sky and snatching terriers.

A year or so ago, I got a call from Malcolm Rockwood, the gentleman who lives there. He said he really appreciated the story, though it's not true, he pointed out.

The other night, he called to say that there was an article in the Middlefield Post which detailed how the eagles had been moved to Huntsburg. And he made sure to tell the reporter that the eagles not only were beautiful works of art, but that they had been immortalized in a great literary piece. (That would be our book.)

Here is a zoom-in of the article.

Pretty neat, huh?

Now what everyone needs to do is contact the paper and ask why they've never done a review of Haunting Valley, or an interview with the authors.

More Pill Hill Press

2012-02-02T20:04:00.001-05:00

This is somewhat a continuation of yesterday's post. But since that one included a long text passage, I thought it best to make them separate entries.

After I submitted "Worm Herding," I took a look at the Pill Hill Press Open Submissions page. I have to say, I am really stoked about these folks.

CONQUEST THROUGH DETERMINATION.

The time of Steampunk is upon us. From the moment the world first watched Jules Verne’s Nautilus explore the mysterious leagues of the sea, to this summer’s release of Cowboys and Aliens, Steampunk has become a fascination, neigh, an obsession to those who see the world through slightly different colored goggles.

Pill Hill Press salutes this vision and is now seeking stunners of stories from today’s Steampunks.

For generations of literary inspiration, look to Morlock Night by K.W. Jeter, The Difference Engine by William Gibson and Bruce Sterling, or Boneshaker by Cherie Priest, among others.

Hollywood has long been a fan, as is evidenced by The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Wild Wild West, 9, and on television, Warehouse 13.

The downside is that the deadline is February 13. On the upside, the minimum word count is 2,000. If I can get a solid idea, I can knock that out in an afternoon.

USE ENOUGH GUN
Sometimes, a mistake can lead to the hunter missing their quarry. Sometimes, an ill wrought plan can get the hunter injured, or even killed. And sometimes, when the hunter grossly underestimates the prey, worse can happen. Much worse.

Make your stories cautionary tales that highlight the dangers of monster hunting. Tell us of mistakes that can occur when planning is replaced by reckless action, or when weapons malfunction, or when information is held back from those that need it.

Give us a story about what happens when a hunter is simply overmatched by a creature that they never really stood a chance against. Or, tell us of the worst cases, the stories that send chills through the hunter’s bones; tell us what happens when they are turned into the very things that they are sworn to destroy.

3,000 - 8,000 words by May 31. Oh yeah, I am so doing that one.

PSYCHO CINEMA!
We're looking for HORROR stories with a strong CINEMA theme... this can be interpreted by the author in any way that connects the short fiction to the movies, as long as there are strong elements of horror. Things like: horror at the movie theater, horror on a movie set, horror featuring a horror film actor (fiction only, please; let's not kill off real actors), horror at a drive-in theater, etc. As long as HORROR and HORROR MOVIES are present, the story will be considered.

Ditto.

In addition to those, Pill Hill Press is accepting flash fiction, in both the regular and frightening flavors. They will consider up to four stories of 500 words or less. Having written a few of 100 or less for literary agent Janet Reid's contests, I sense a submission to this compilation is forthcoming as well.

Down To The Wire...

2012-02-01T20:03:00.001-05:00

In my most recent post -- way back on Friday -- I made reference to the Pill Hill Press, and their open call for submissions to "BUGS." (I was going to provide a link to the BUGS page, but it's already gone.) I haven't posted anything here since then because I've been BUSY! They had a deadline of January 31, and I had a short story that was in progress.

Since I almost always make it up as I go, I had no idea many how words I still needed to write. All I knew was that I had 1,865 words, and I needed a minimum of 4,000. I had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen. But I lacked the details.

So I take great pleasure in reporting that after a heroic effort (cue the heraldic trumpets) I was able to finish. I would not have been able to do it, though, without a lot of help from my voice recorder and my Dragon voice recognition software. After getting our oldest to bed at 9:00, and then the twins down at 10:00 (what is WRONG with those kids?) I cranked out the last few paragraphs -- not knowing exactly what words would be coming out as I tapped the keys -- and hit the "submit" button around 10:45. The final tally: 9,582 words, 418 shy of the max.

Will they like it? I hope so.

The original post shared the opening. Below is a sample from somewhere in the middle. To set up the scene, my protagonist, Slim, has just dived into a hole in the "Cave Of Swiss Cheese Floor" in an effort to rescue his partners.

    I looked around. I was in some sort of tube. It was transparent, or translucent. I never was very good at those “trans” words. The point is, they weren’t like windows. I couldn’t really see through the walls. But light—from somewhere—was coming in.
    Suddenly I felt a tug, which was strange, since there was nothing I could see that was tugging on me. But I was being pulled down. Whatever it was, it was so strong that I couldn’t keep my arms by my side. They were dangling down in front of me, just waving in the breeze, although there was no breeze. But with my arms down there, they were not in a position where I could tug three times and signal for Tiny to get me the hell out of here. I assumed he would feel that I was being pulled, and yank be back up, any second now.
    Any minute now.
    “Any day now, Tiny!” I yelled. But for some reason, I couldn’t hear my voice. I tried calling out, screaming anything that came to mind. (For some reason, that “anything” turned out to be an old Irish drinking song that my Grandpa taught me when I was a boy. How odd.) But no matter what I tried, the hollers just didn’t seem to want to leave my mouth. So I came up with another idea. I started kicking my legs, in the hope that Tiny would feel me struggling, and pull.
    It was a good idea in theory, but a bad one in practice. You see, as a skinny guy, I’m skinny all over. That includes my legs and—more central to my dilemma—my ankles. So whether or not Tiny felt me, before he had a chance to do anything, I slipped out of my boots.
    This bad day was just getting worse.
    At least I still had the rope.
    I fell. I fell and fell. And fell. I was kind of surprised how long and far I fell, considering that the riata was only about 30 feet long. It would have been about 20 had I wrapped all the way around Tiny, rather than just through two of the belt loops. Finally, I hit bottom with a thud, though I suppose it was more like a “mush.”
    I spit out the dirt, and wiped the dust from my eyes.
    The first thing I saw were shoes. Red shoes. Red women’s shoes. Red women’s shoes that glittered. Looking a little higher, I saw black and white striped socks. Further up, a black dress. Above that was a woman, pretty, if you could overlook the green skin on her face. But she had a nice smile. At the top of it all was a black, pointy hat.
    I’m no expert on the classics and other works of fine fiction. But I know a witch when I see one. I jumped to my feet and was about to draw my six-shooter. But she looked at me with kind, even caring eyes, dusted me off, and said, “Are you all right?”
    Her gentleness took me aback. I’ve never met a witch before, though once when I was a boy back in Massachusetts, I saw one at the bottom of a pool, weighed down with stones. (Wait, if she didn’t float despite the stones, then she “passed” the “witch test.” Then I guess I haven’t seen a witch. But from what I’ve heard, they’re evil, and in possession of a hairy eyeball, or something like that. Her eyeballs were not hairy, though the lashes were fairly long and silky.

If you can't figure out where he is, based on the image of a green-faced witch wearing striped socks and red shoes...well, you have to know.

Should you want to see more, please write the folks at Pill Hill Press, and tell them that they just HAVE TO include "Worm Herding" in their BUGS anthology. And be prepared to purchase a copy on the spot.

No, that probably won't work.

Or, just leave a comment here asking for it, and I'll email you the whole thing.

A Race Against Time

2012-01-27T20:00:00.000-05:00

In several previous posts, I've made reference to "bug" stories I have written: "Tarantulas On Leashes" and, fairly recently, "Running With The Beetles."

I've been wondering what to do with them. Submit them to a magazine? Compile several and make a $0.99 e-book to sell on Amazon?

Then, the other day, I came across the Pill Hill Press call for submission BUGS.

They populate our world. There are over a million known species and they represent over half of all living organisms alive today. If you include both bug and bug-like species, they can be found in every environment from the bottom of the sea to the high stratosphere. They populate our nightmares. Bugs literally get under our skin, they invade our bodies, have poisonous bites and carry disease. The most common phobia in the world is the fear of spiders.

I'm looking for stories between the 4,000 to 10,000 word range that involves bugs in some form or another for an anthology of imaginative tales.

The only problem is the word count. (My obsession.) "Tarantulas" is 2,600. "Beetles" is not complete, but I know it will come nowhere near that.

But in my back pocket, I have "Worm Herding."

    It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it. That's just a little joke between me and the boys, though Beanpole thinks I say it too much, that it's getting old. I don't care. I think it's funny. And out here, when you're not working, there's not much else to do, other than crack jokes, talk about long-lost loves, sing old cowboy songs off key, and look at the stars. I don't mind Beanpole giving me some lip. He's a good man. I'm lucky. All my boys, my crew, are solid fellows. Besides Beanpole, there's Skinny Pete, Lean Gene, and Tiny. We used to have a guy named Honest Abe. But he took a job splitting rails, or something like that.
    I rely on these fellas to help me do a tough job. It takes a special kind of man to do this work. You need stamina. You need to be quick and accurate with your six shooter. And you need really good eyesight. These critters depend on us to keep them safe. And if we slip up and lose our focus for just one second, then ZOOM! Out of the sky comes a robin, and one of them is gone.
    We're worm herders.

I started it around the same time as the other ones. But I didn't know where to "take it." However, thanks to this latest opportunity, I found inspiration.

The submission deadline is 1/31...next Tuesday. I'm up to 5,000 words, and the words are still coming. In fact, much like the experience I related in the post that can be accessed by clicking on "My obsession" (above), yesterday I sat down to work on a conversation, and 1,200 words came out of nowhere.

Will I make it? Stay tuned.

Castle: "An Embarrassment of Bitches"

2012-01-25T20:05:00.000-05:00

After last week's dark episode, this week's entry was much a much lighter welcome relief. (If you can use the terms "lighter" and "relief" to describe a show which always has at least one murder.)

Of course, it's hard to be serious about dog shows. (Unless you're a dog shower, I suppose.) Just ask Christopher Guest.

Beckett even laughed three or four times, which may be a new record.

Nothing sums up the attitude of this episode better than the fact that no one batted an eyelash when introduced to "Dr. Barker," the dog psychologist. Come on, normally Castle would be all over that.

I spent a lot of time trying to guess "who done it." In hindsight, the reality star's boyfriend should have been the obvious choice, especially when we learned that she had been a visitor at the home of the drug cartel family; he set up her whole life, so of course he would have arranged that. (For the record, I figured it out when they showed the footage of her spritzing her new scent in his general direction. At least I got it before Castle did his rewind and review.)

But, this show was all about "the looks." There were so many, I lost count. A few that I recall:

- Castle, when talking to Alexis and his Mom at the beginning. Of course, those conversations always confuse, confound, or amuse him.
- Castle, when the photographer said, "Hey, that's not Jason Bateman."
- Esposito, when Ryan said, "a real underdog."
- Kay Cappuccio, after Beckett glared at her when she said, "I can't go anywhere without a million people taking my picture."
- And Esposito again, when she kissed him.

And let us not forget the "moment:" the way Beckett looked, and then looked at Castle, when he took her hand and massaged it. But I loved his recovery, as he beat a hasty retreat and said, "Don't miss me too much. The dog, not you."

Next week's, which appears to be in the style of 1940s film noir, looks promising.

Feel free to share your thoughts.

Mayhem!

2012-01-24T21:15:00.000-05:00

What's old is new again. What comes around goes around. These time-honored cliches aptly apply to the Imelda May CD Mayhem, which could have been subtitled "Stray Kitten Strut." ("Better late than never" also would be apropos; the record was released in 2010, but I only recently discovered it.) It's a raucous, rocking, rollicking good time, and more than slightly reminiscent of the boys from Long Island.

In fact, two of the songs -- "All For You" and "Bury My Troubles" specifically -- prompted me to check the credits to see whether Brian Setzer was a guest artist. He wasn't, but May's guitarist (and husband) Darrel Higham must have borrowed Mr. Setzer's guitar, amp, and effects pedal. In fact, I challenge you to listen to the guitar solo of "All For You" and NOT hear "Stray Cat Strut."

Clearly in the rockabilly camp, Mayhem still manages to veer off into other genres to keep the disk from being an exercise in pure retro. There is the country twang of "Eternity" and "Proud And Humble." If you're blue and need some commiserating, you can wallow in the dirge-like "Too Sad To Cry." And if you're so inclined, then dance along with "Kentish Town Waltz," which recalls the Pogues, minus the drunken slur.

But uptempto is the order of the day, and the band's toe-tapping tempos are a perfect complement to May's bouncy vocal, the most roly-poly delivery this side of Gwen Stafani. In fact, when I first heard "Inside Out," I was sure that it was a new release from Mrs. Rossdale.

All good.

But it is the title track which grabs, demands, and holds your attention. As if the beat and riffs were not enough to pull you in, lyrics such as

Ten pints and then he starts a fight and he lands himself a night
In a cell wearing grey pants and bruises
Twelves mates bangin' on the door, oh the back up vans galore
Never saw such a street full of losers

are impossible to NOT like.

No matter how stable or crazy your life may be, you should make a little room for some Mayhem.

100 More Words; Dragon, Part 2

2012-01-23T21:32:00.000-05:00

In previous posts, I've made reference to literary agent Janet Reid, and her blog-based writing contests. The mission: to create a short story of 100 words, using five key words. This time, they were:

Red
Fold
Chaos
Bent
Chasm

I decided to try dictating it. What Dragon "heard" was:

My leg was bent at a 45° angle, and I was staring at a red chasm where my normally linear femur was. I'm sure the pain was excruciating. But in the ensuing chaos that enveloped me it was swallowed up. I attacked sequencing just begun and my fellow patrons were suffering similar fates. First there was 3-D. Then there was some elevation. But I think the cinematic experience pain over, it's not going to catch on. And to think I paid an extra 10 bucks for this.

What I said was:

My leg was bent at a 45° angle, and I was staring at a red chasm where my normally linear femur was. I'm sure the pain was excruciating. But in the ensuing chaos that enveloped me it was swallowed up. The attack sequence had just begun and my fellow patrons were suffering similar fates. First there was 3-D. Then there was Smell-O-Vision. But I think the cinematic experience Pain-O-Rama is not going to catch on. And to think I paid an extra 10 bucks for this.

Not bad. I would call that better than 90%, especially if you factor out Smell-O-Vision and Pain-O-Rama. (And I'll bet that if I had said "smell (pause) oh (pause) vision" the program would have gotten it right.)

The final version turned out to be

My left leg was bent at a 45° angle, and I was staring at a red chasm where my normally linear femur usually was. My right leg was completely folded beneath me. I'm sure the pain was excruciating. But it was lost in the ensuing chaos which had swallowed us all up. The attack sequence had begun, and my fellow patrons were suffering similar fates. First, there was 3-D. Then there was Smell-O-Vision. But I predict that this latest cinematic “experience,” Pain-O-Rama, is not going to catch on.

And to think I paid an extra 10 bucks for this.

In summary, I'm very pleased.

Alas, I didn't win the contest.

This time!

I'm Walking' Yes Indeed And I'm Talkin'

2012-01-22T22:22:00.000-05:00

In several previous posts, I've mentioned that I like to compose while walking on the treadmill. The problem, I had noted, is trying to cache several hundred words until I have an opportunity later to commit them to disk. In one of those posts, I opined (or pined) that it would be nice to have the Dragon speech recognition software, so that I could speak into a portable recorder (or the PC itself, I suppose) and have the recorder and the program do the rest of the work.

My wife, lovely soul that she is, read my blog and got me the software for Christmas. I installed it on my PC, and "taught" it about my voice the other day. Friday night, I decided to try it out.

Over the course of 15 minutes, I recorded just over four minutes. Saturday, after setting up Dragon to accept input from the recorder, I plugged it in (it's got a built-in USB port), copied the file over, and hit "Transcribe the recording."

The (often humorous) results are below. A few things I want to point out:

1. This is first draft. So go easy on me.
2. Without the context of the rest of the story, this snippet won't make much sense. But I'll give you a hint: the story is called "Running With The Beetles," and it's a take on the famous Pamplona event with a similar name.
3. When I'm writing, I frequently employ what I call "digital post-its." If I can't think of the right word, so as to not lose momentum I just type SOMETHING and keep going. So the capital SOMETHING you see in the cleaned-up version is an example of that.
4. At one point I say "10 to 12, maybe even 16, but definitely not 18." Earlier in the day, I had looked up the duodecuple, tredecuple, sexdecuple, and octodecuple. While walking, I couldn't remember those exact words, which are the equivalent of saying "duplicate" or "triplicate," but for 12, 13, 16, and 18, respectively. And I didn't want to make Dragon's head explode. So I just said the numbers.
5. In listening to the recording, a lot of the miscues were due to my breathy tone. And in one case, I doubled back. I can't "be mad" at the program for that.

So without further ado...

Training paid off I found I was leaving the panic both of men and arthropods as and when I looked down I was distracted for the insects talking to him except unfortunately my glasses when skidding off my face planted on him and him very blind without them I quickly saw the room for the Flickr find him because I heard the sound of approaching feet of my fellow racers as well as the first person I had to get out of the way I know, devices that could involve looking for something we had to move through the unfocused cause I thought I could see an alleyway sounded to us in a way and not a curve in the racecourse defeats the footage of getting closer I had to try for chromatin and continued calling until the sound of the race something to later approved the five released separately the right choice I was safe in her the sound of things was like a long crop duster plane flying into this mess but got louder soon was doing but other self clicking chirping things in the house thousands of tiny feet, walking toward me what was going on for set up stillborn Elizabeth. She something for nothing just a something Hayes seven louder and then stop after perhaps a minute of uncomfortable silence experienced fornication which is a great 11 letter word for the sensation of doing it on your skin. Apply for shipwreck on my left ankle it was nothing to jam scarcely more noticeable the slight splinter from picks open the social worker project offender to dismiss it completely when I had to Lucy suddenly my face was on the ground and the like without him when I awoke my vision problems worsen for. Not only for times 10 to 12 and 60 Atlantic Coast definitely not able to see anything for something was wrong and wasn't sure what it is definitely something that was not right-my wife I had the effect of the hotel ACC insider swear herself with a person becomes a dozen needles so she decided to stay at the hotel and sleep for socialist you would worry about me to be there I had to get to pick myself up and brushed off my legs and began going in the direction of the hotel even though my subdivision was definitely out of whack for a pretty good idea of where to find the hotel I made a mental map has had left the course several times over the previous few days I
had to massage my wife used for Lavender skin cream effective salivary distinctly

What it is supposed to say is

My training paid off. I found I was leading the pack, both of men and arthropods.

(exiting text will be added here)

When I looked down, I was distracted. By the side I saw insects (existing text)

I tripped. Unfortunately, my glasses went skidding off my face when I hit the ground. And I'm very blind without them. I quickly felt around for them. I couldn't find them. But then I heard the sound of approaching feet, both of my fellow racers as well as the pursuers. I had to get out of the way. I know the common advice is to curl up in a ball and let them pass. But something told me I had to move. Through the unfocused fuzz, I thought I could see an alleyway. I hoped it was an alleyway, and not a curve in the racecourse. The footsteps were getting closer. I had to try. I crawled in and continued crawling until the sound of the race grew fainter and fainter. I breathed a sig of relief. Apparently, I had made the right choice. I was safe. And then I heard a sound: a faint buzz, like a long crop duster plane flying in the distance. Soon it was joined by other sounds. Clicking, chirping, and the sound of perhaps thousands of tiny feet, walking toward me. I wondered what was going on. I stood up, still blind as a bat, hoping I could see something. But there was nothing. Just a SOMETHING haze. The sound grew louder and then stopped. After perhaps a minute of uncomfortable silence, I experienced formication, which is a great 11-letter word for the sensation of tingling on your skin. It was followed by a sharp prick on my left ankle. It was not a painful jab, scarcely more noticeable the slight splinter that one picks up in a simple woodworking project. I was prepared to dismiss it completely, when my head felt woozy. Suddenly my face was on the ground, and the lights went out. When I awoke, my vision problems were worse than before. They had not only times 10 to 12, maybe even 16, but definitely not 18. I was definitely not able to see anything. Something was wrong. I wasn't sure what. But there was something definitely that was not right.

I had to find my wife. I had to get back to the hotel. My wife, you see, had decided to spare herself the pain of seeing me trampled by a dozen beetles, so she decided to stay at the hotel and sleep so that she wouldn't worry about me. She would be there. I had to get to her. I picked myself up and brushed off my hind legs, and began going in the direction of the hotel. Even though my sense of vision was definitely out of whack, I had a pretty good idea of where to find the hotel. I had made a mental map as I had walked the course several times over the previous few days. I knew which was to head. And besides, my wife used a lavender skin cream, and I could smell it very distinctly.

Overall, I'm pretty pleased. I did learn a few lessons:

- I need to remember to say "period" and "new line" to (no surprise) end a sentence and start a new line.
- As I said in one of the previous posts, I seem to be better at writing dialog on the treadmill. This clearly was not dialog, and I really did find the actual creation process to be harder.
- Speaking of harder, I'm surprised I found it so hard to dictate while walking. Sure I was going 4.3 miles per hour on an incline of 4.0. But I'm in pretty good shape.

Based on the latter, I may have to work my way up to walking and talking for 25 minutes (my usual treadmill time). Of course, folding laundry isn't nearly so aerobically challenging. So that's another option.

In fact, if I may whet your appetite for tomorrow's post, I tried a record / transcribe session today, with much better results.

So until tomorrow...

I Got The Best Form Letter Today

2012-01-19T21:20:00.000-05:00

No, really. I did.

I gave my wife an iPhone for Christmas. Today, one of the oh-so-friendly computers at AT&T sent me the following:

It's too bad that they didn't include one of those self-addressed, pre-paid envelopes to send something back. If they had, I would have sent them this:

Dear AT&T --

Thank you so much for your recent letter! I really am pleased with my 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010001OK. I gave it to my wife for Christmas, and was she ever surprised. I think her exact words were, "Oh my god! You gave me a 1403DDYNNNONETOUCH 00010001OK. I've always wanted a 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010001OK!" (Technically she didn't always want one, as they haven't always existed. But you get the point.)

To be honest, I had wondered whether I should get her the 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010001OK or the 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010002OK. The 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010001OK has a lot of functionality, but the 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010002OK has very nice lines. Consumer Reports gave good reviews to both. But I spoke with some friends, and those who have the 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010002OK said it tends to have technical issues. So we settled on the 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010001OK.

I have to say, I'm really looking forward to the release of the 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010003OK. I hear it's a "game changer." But for now, we are enjoying our 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010001OK.

Sincerely,

A satisfied 1403DRYNNNONETOUCH 00010001OK Customer

If only...

Castle: "Dial M For Mayor"

2012-01-18T21:05:00.000-05:00

What an intense episode! It was dark, moody, and featured a little more tension than usual between Castle and Beckett. I thought that they very effectively heightened the mood with several tight shots--as in, the camera was so close that it lopped off the top of the actors' heads--at key points: when Beckett, Esposito, and Ryan were discussing the evidence against the Mayor, and later when they were interrogating Jordan.

They also employed good lighting, specifically, the use of shadows when Castle met with his "Deepthroat." Obviously, Deepthroat would want to be in the shadows, to obscure his face. But in a real-world scenario, he would have wanted to have Castle standing in bright sunlight. However, the director chose to have them both partially lit. I'm not complaining; I'm just commenting on the effect.

The plot was clever. I, along with the characters, really did wonder why Laura would give up her good job and (ostensibly) comfortable lifestyle for a walk on the seedy side. I thought the reason they provided was believable. It was a really cool "a-ha" moment. (Note to my wife: Don't worry honey, I'm not planning any similar exercises in "method writing.")

I liked the fact that they didn't solve the murder and give us the comfort of closure, like they did before in the episode 3XK. As was the case with that one, this plot line probably will rear its head again in the future. Whether or not they resolve it...

I thought that having Castle and the Mayor shoot the breeze over whiskey at the end was a nice touch. It reminded me of the falling action scene of every episode of Boston Legal, with James Spader and William Shatner sitting on the balcony, drinking and smoking cigars, and recounting their day, or discussing life in general. (I must say, I was glad that Castle didn't look at the Mayor and say, "Sleepover?") As I've said in previous posts, while the interplay between Castle and Beckett is what drives the show, it's nice to let each character have some "me" time. I don't recall seeing any instances of Castle's famous-author poker night this season. So this one-on-one was a good break.

I caught three movie references: Good Will Hunting, An Officer And A Gentleman, and (of course) the title.

And finally, no review of Castle would be complete without my comment about "the looks." The best, hands down, had to be Beckett's expression when, at Dial-A-Goddess, she heard the grandma moaning, "Oh yeah, oh yeah."

Until next week...

Feel free to share your thoughts.

Bedzilla: Done...Well, Almost

2012-01-16T21:15:00.000-05:00

First there was "Moby Deck." And now...

The challenge: three kids and two bedrooms. The problem is exacerbated by the fact that the twins--a boy and a girl--share a room now, but won't be able to in the future. On the plus side, our oldest likes sleeping in their room on occasion.

The solution: Bedzilla, a three-level bunk bed. We began work the Monday after Christmas, a week off from work for both of us. The construction process itself wasn't so bad. But some little amenities added time. For example, my wife wanted a really nice "ceiling" for the two lower beds, so she painted clouds.

During the week, of course, we have no spare time. So after that first week, we were relegated to working Saturday and Sunday, often laboring solo so that one of us could spend time with the kids, lest they watch TV for eight hours while we constructed it.

It was a slow go.

But it's done. We still have a few odds & ends to take care of. We'll paint it in the summer. And we want to build little cubbies to let them store stuff inside. And we need a real set of steps to the middle platform, and a real ladder to the top. But the general work is finis!

Here is the corner of the twin's room before we started.

This is the first platform in place.

This is the second platform in place.

And this is the finished project.

There were no major headaches, except for the fact that while bolting the frame to a wall stud, I managed to perfect bisect a wire that happened to be running through that particular 2x4, at the exact height that I needed to attach the platform. What are the odds? That little side adventure in re-wiring added about two hours.

But nobody died, or even sustained any major injuries. So I call that a victory.

On a tangential note, I really did sing "Godzilla" by Blue Oyster Cult while working on this. Something I never understood. A portion of the lyrics are:

Helpless people on subway trains
Scream, bug-eyed, as he looks in on them

If the people are on a SUBway, how can he look in on them?.

Flash! Of Inspiration!

2012-01-13T21:11:00.002-05:00

Sorry if this seems redundant, talking about word counts again. But sometimes, I just amaze myself...not in the sense of "I'm so good," but more in the sense of "Wow! I didn't think I had it in me."

The other day I had about two sentences of description and two lines of dialogue in my head. I had planned on spending about five minutes quickly committing to disk the former, and then actually working through the latter.

Thirty minutes later, I had 700 words. Back to the "amaze" part, when I started, I had no idea these words were "in there," and waiting to come out.

As I said, I'm not boasting. My hope is that my other writer friends read this and say, "Maybe I should commit myself to some writing every day." Because sometimes, wondrous things just happen.

Castle: "Til Death Do Us Part"

2012-01-12T21:15:00.001-05:00

Monday's show (which we actually watched within one day) was a good, keep-you-guessing episode.

They even pulled a little "fast one" right at the beginning. Knowing the episode was about a lothario, I assumed that the "pineapple guy" chatting up the girl in the first scene was soon to be the victim. But then a body falls out of the sky. Surprise!

The plot reminded me of a previous episode, "A Deadly Game." Castle starts speculating that the victim was a spy. Beckett doesn't buy it. But as the evidence mounts, she is forced to admit that it's a possibility. Then, we learn he's a pick-up artist, rather than an international man of mystery. But by the end -- whoops! -- he is a spy, of sorts.

In many episodes, the murderer turns about to be someone who had been called in for questioning, dismissed, and then later nabbed after a critical piece of information comes to light. But in this case, the killer wasn't even a suspect until the very end. (Which also is what happened in "A Deadly Game.") And, they managed to hook me by having Whatever-Her-First-Name-Was Franklin (the red-haired lawyer) look really worried as they walked in to bust the blonde.

Also, though they didn't really build up a lot of tension about Ryan finding out about Jenny's past, you knew it would somehow come out. But rather than having it blow up (as Beckett, Castle, and Esposito thought it would) Ryan de-fused that bomb. Interesting.

I loved the scene where the victim's two womanizing buddies were brought in for questioning. The split conversation -- in which they seemed to finish each other's answers -- was terrific. And I couldn't help but smile at the terms they tossed out from their pick-up dictionary. "Slip her the butter" and "Wax her car" (Or whatever.)

And of course, there were lots of "looks." Especially notable were the looks all around the table when Ryan announced that Lanie would be bringing a date and, later, the look on Ryan's face the first time Esposito was talking to him and waving a doughnut.

Feel free to share your thoughts on this episode.

Random "Nightmares"

2012-01-10T21:11:00.000-05:00

If I may openly borrow an idea from fellow writer and blogger Josin McQuein...

I put the page count of Nightmares into a random number generator, took the result (124), went to that page, and copied it to here.

Enjoy.

    "OK, one last time. You get me inside. You come back to the car. Make sure the car is facing south. Engine off, but key in ignition. No texting, no surfing. No sleeping. No nothing. Windows open. Got it."
    "Sure. Why south?"
    "I left him downtown. So he'll be coming that way. When he does, I want us to go the opposite way."
    "Makes sense." He put the car in park. "You sure about this?"
    "Nope. Let's go."
    “You know, it’s night. Do you really need the shades?”
    “Their presence on my face helps remind me to keep my eyes closed.”
    “OK.”
    He led me down the sidewalk, up the walk, and around the back.
    “Something I’ve been thinking about...” Gordon said.
    “Yeah?” I said, hoping for some sort of revelation.
    “There’s that expression, ‘Rip your head clean off.’ Why ‘clean’ off? It would be anything but clean, with all that blood gushing and spinal cord flapping.”
    “You think of the worst things at the worst time”
    “Oh, excuse me for not realizing that you’re the only one who can have deep, important thoughts.”
    He stopped.
    "Uh-oh," he said.
    "What? What's wrong?"
    "There's police tape."
    "Sounds formidable."
    "And plywood on the door."
    "Is it screwed on, or bolted on?"
    "Um, screwed."
    “Flat or Phillips screws”
    “Phillips.”
    I fished in my bag and hit him in the chest with my cordless drill, the proper screwdriver bit already locked and loaded.
    "Hey, neat. Good thinking."
    "Thanks. Get to work."
    He revved it a few times. "OK, I'm on it."
    I hit him in the chest with a pair of gloves.
    "What are these for? Splinters?"
    "Fingerprints."
    "Oh yeah. Good thinking."
    "Thanks." After a few minutes of drill sound, he announced, "Batter up!"
    "OK. Go back to the car and wait."
    "Yeah, but listen. If I hear or see anything, I’m going to lay on the horn. If you hear it, get out."

Castle: "Cuffed"

2012-01-06T21:44:00.000-05:00

We finally got around to watching the December 5 episode of "Castle." Such is the burden of the holidays.

I thought this was a good one. One thing I really appreciated was how they told the story: the first segment (before the first commercial) started in the present (with Castle and Beckett waking up, handcuffed) and then was brought to that point through a series of flashbacks, as they tried to remember how they got there. After the break, they picked up in the present, and then moved forward. Very clever.

(Speaking of moving forward, as an aside, the DVR remote wasn't working. The buttons on the front of the DVR itself allowed us to start the episode, but not fast forward through the commercials. I felt so 20th century.)

I liked the secondary plot regarding Esposito and Lanie; it offered some comic relief and (as I have mentioned in a previous post) engages other characters to keep them involved and fresh, which allows the show to be about more than the principals.

With regard to the crime...OK, they got me. Even before Castle and Beckett heard their captors talking, and they started trying to communicate with the "person" on the other side of the wall, I was thinking "human trafficking." So when a tiger starts coming at Castle, I thought, "That was unexpected!"

A few picky things:

Admittedly, I'm not expert on jungle cats. But if I were locked in a room with a lot of knives, and a tiger started chewing / pawing through a flimsy wall, I'm going to get the biggest blade and start poking and slashing its paws and face. I said this aloud as we were watching it. My wife said, "You'd probably just piss him off." That may be so. But I would take my chances that the tiger would basically think, "Ouch! That thing has sharper claws than I do. I'm backing away."

My final criticism: the bad guys had no qualms about killing the driver. Why did they let Castle and Beckett live?

Overall, though, I had very few complaints.

Oh, and kudos to me, modestly. When Castle lifted Beckett up, trying to reach the trap door, he commented on her boots. "How do you run in these things?" he asked. I've already asked the same question.

I'm looking forward to next Monday's episode. "When a lothario is killed, Castle and Beckett suspect that the victim's mysterious double life holds the key to his murder. Their investigation leads to a shocking twist that threatens to disrupt Ryan's wedding with Jenny." Sounds intriguing.

What did you think?

And The Geek Shall Inherit The Earth ...

2012-01-03T22:07:00.000-05:00

For those of you who don't know me well, I used to be a computer programmer. As I used to say (boast), "I tell my computer what to do. Not vice versa." A nice little skill that I developed was macro creation, specifically for applications in the Microsoft Office suite.

If you're a writer, you probably face the same quandary I face: keeping track of your submissions. Who you queried, what their instructions are ("We respond to all queries" or "If you don't hear back, assume we're not interested."), and when to follow up. The problem grows exponentially if you're submitting different works to different agents and/or publishers.

So I developed a handy-dandy spreadsheet to keep track of my correspondence.

If you have no desire to learn about my system, go ahead and bow out now. But if you want to see my spreadsheet "in action," keep reading.

As background, this actually was based on an Access database that I developed a few years back for the same purpose. That one got a bit cumbersome, as I found that in some cases I needed a way to have a "many-to-one" and/or a "one-to-many" relationship (to use the geek terms) between a work and a correspondence with someone. To clarify, if I'm sending a query letter to an agent, that's one-to-one. But in many cases, a poetry publisher or magazine asks for five poems. So that's many works in one email. But also, if I'm querying an agent (as mentioned, one-to-one) and he or she writes back and says, "Send more," now I have one work, but many emails.

Clear as mud? I used to be a tech writer, so I hope I can still convey things like this.

So I came up with this spreadsheet. I'm sure this first image will be hard to see, so after it, I'll describe what's there.

(Please note, I use OpenOffice, which is an open-source -- meaning free -- app that works like the MS Office suite; Excel will look a little different, but functions basically the same way.)

This is the header row.

The columns are Key (I'll explain later), Date, Follow Up Date, Response, Sent What?, Via, Email, To What?, Name, Who, Genre, Work, Details.

I tried to set it up so you can simply read it, left to right. So that would be (the column headers are in ALL CAPS)...

"On this 12/20/11 (DATE), I sent a query (SENT WHAT?) VIA email to an agent (TO WHAT?) at company NAME, and this person specifically (WHO). I sent my novella (GENRE) named Udopia (WORK). Addtional DETAILs are ...

So a real-world example would be:

And it reads, "On 12/15/11, I submitted, using an online form to an anthology named Best Fiction. The recipient was not named. I sent a short story, "Tarantulas On Leashes."

Now to explain a few things...

You'll notice there is a "Key" field. In the above example, for both lines, it is 46. This was done to solve that one-to-many problem that I referenced earlier. Every entry should have at least two lines with the same key. The date you sent it, and the date that they say you will get a response by. Bear in mind, as I mentioned above, some say "If you don't hear back in six weeks, assume no." Fine. I can still put a date that is six weeks out in the Follow Up Date field, and copy that comment into the Response field. The beauty of this key field is that if I am sending multiple works to a single entity, there is one line for each work, plus the follow-up line, all sharing the same key. As you can see here:

key 45 represents five works submitted to one anthology, plus there is the follow-up line.

If you use Excel a lot, this should be obvious, but you don't need to "do math" to get the follow-up date. The "Key 45" entity did not state a follow-up date, so I am assuming six weeks. Cell C14 is actually a formula which reads "=B45 + 42" Seven days times six weeks = 42, naturally. Oh, and once I get a response, I delete the value from the "Follow Up Date" field, and put the date I heard back in the "Date" field. You can do whatever you want; you could leave it there. This just works for me.

You will notice that I have highlighted in red text to-do items. Likewise, if someone has said "no," I color the text gray, to fade it out.

The Email column contains a hyperlink to where the actual email lives on my hard drive. Having it here allows me to call it up at will. Please note that I use an email program (Thunderbird) which brings emails down to my PC, as opposed to something like GMail, which keeps them on Google's servers. Of course, since the field holds a hyperlink, you might be able to store the link to a webmail message. Hmmm.

Bear with me. There are only two things left to point out ...

In order to keep things clean, I use the "group" function of my spreadsheet. In the previous images, I intentionally omitted the left-most portion of the screen. It actually looks like this:

You will notice a little box, with a minus sign in it. What that says is that I have "grouped" rows 2 and 3, as well as rows 4 and 5.

Once 2 and 3 are grouped, I can click on the minus sign to collapse or hide row 3, like thus:

I just think it's neater to hide the details, once an entry is "closed."

Please note that there is one weird quirk about both Excel and the OpenOffice spreadsheet. Logically, I would expect that I need to highlight everything I want in a group, and then choose the "group" command. But the reality is, you highlight ALL BUT the first. So in the example immediately above, I highlighted only row 3. Going up a bit to my "Key 45" example, I highlighted rows 10 - 14 (but NOT row 9) before hitting the "group" button.

And finally, you can use filters (native to both Excel and the OpenOffice version) to create "mini-reports," if you will. Do you want to know to which agents you've sent a given work? Filter on the book's (or article's) name in column L, "Work." Do you want to know which works you've sent to a certain agent? Filter on his or her name in column J.

Had enough?

If you are a writer (or an agent) and would like a blank version, please leave a comment. I'd be more than happy to send you one. I'll even throw in free "tech support," though bear in mind, you get what you pay for.

Just kidding.

PS: I do realize that I didn't mention macros after talking about them up top. This spreadsheet has no macros...yet!

New Year's Resolutions

2012-01-02T22:54:00.000-05:00

This year, I resolve to:

1. Eat more fatty foods

2. Exercise less, and

3. Be meaner to others.

That way, I won't feel bad when I break them!

What are your resolutions? Share them in a comment.

Five Hours And Counting...

2011-12-31T19:08:00.002-05:00

I hope everyone has a SAFE and Happy New Year.

Also, I wonder how many people will tweet "Happy New Year" right at midnight?

Christmas Top 10

2011-12-26T22:51:00.000-05:00

Now that Christmas is over, and only the hangover (financial and other) remains, I thought it would be fun to have an interactive post. I have smart and witty friends and followers, so I thought we all could work together on:

The Top 10 Things Santa Doesn't Want To Hear.

I'll start:

#10. Echo Base, this is Maverick. I have a target lock on the bogey. Request permission to fire.

#9. Santa, you've been punk'd.

OK, let's get eight (at least) more.

Christmas Funny

2011-12-25T23:27:00.000-05:00

I hadn't planned on writing today, but saw something funny last night, and had to share.

After we put the presents under the tree, my wife and I sat down to watch some TV. We wanted to watch some of Saturday Night Live, but the Pope was on. (The nerve of some people!) So we clicked down one station from NBC, to PBS, which was carrying Christmas in Washington D.C.

Just as we tuned in, President Obama was on stage, delivering a speech. He made reference to the First Family, and the camera angle switched to show them. To the right of the screen was Michelle. To her right was their older daughter, then an empty chair, and then their younger daughter. On the empty seat, clearly visible was a printed placard which read:

THE PRESIDENT

Seriously? Do they really need to label it? I can't imagine some tourist wandering down there and saying, "Oh look, Marge. There's a nice seat, front and center. You take it. I'll sit here at the end of the aisle."

OK, it probably was just there so that he knew where to sit when they arrived. But still...

Merry Christmas, what's left of it. And to all a good night.

'Tis The Season

2011-12-23T22:59:00.000-05:00

I enjoy creative TV commercials, which I get to see...about once a week, since I only watch one show a week.

Christmas commercials can be hit or miss. For example, a long-running ad which always has gotten on my nerves is the Lexus Christmas series. You know, the ones where a husband or wife leads his or her spouse outside and shows off the new car with the big red bow on it. I always thought the tagline should have been, "Lexus. For those of you who are so @$%&! rich that you can spend $40,000 without consulting your wife."

But the other day, I saw a Best Buy commercial that I love! Apparently, it's part of a series. If I watched more TV, I might know that.

But for your enjoyment, I bring you the Verizon / Best Guy "Game On, Santa."

Personally speaking, I adore her snort-laugh at the end. And how can you not love a line like, "Better luck next year, ELF BOY."

Have you found a great Christmas (or other) commercial? If so, post a link in a comment.

Ho ho ho!

Administrivia....

2011-12-21T21:57:00.000-05:00

I took a little time today to take care of a few "administrative" details regarding my books.

In a recent blog, agent Rachelle Gardner said:

I’ve heard from several sources that Barnes & Noble is paying attention to authors’ blogs and websites, and specifically, they’re interested in which links you include so that people can click through to buy your book. If you are linking only to Amazon, Barnes & Noble may choose not to carry your book.

I thought, "Haunting Valley isn't available on barnesandnoble.com. But I've been meaning to make it a Nook book." So I took care of that. Here is a link to it, should you want it for your Nook. (It makes a great Christmas gift.)

I also updated the "Fiction Stuff" page of my blog site to include the aforementioned URL. And while I was at it, I also added the URLs for Scrappy Information Security and Scrappy BCP on B&N, as well as their links on Books-a-Million -- which is another book-selling site that Rachelle recommended -- to my "Nonfiction Stuff" page.

Switching gears a little, I added myself as an author on Goodreads. So I now can be "liked" in a whole new place. Or, not liked, I suppose.

Sometimes, you have to do the little stuff in order to make a career of the big stuff.

Oops! ... I Did It Again

2011-12-19T21:40:00.000-05:00

With all undue respect to Britney...

In a previous post, I recounted how I recently had a two-part writing session. I composed a scene in my head while walking on the treadmill one night, and then moved it from my gray matter to the PC the next day. I was able to remember 1,500 words, and felt pretty proud of that accomplishment.

I finished that blog with "Now if you'll excuse me, I hear the treadmill calling."

I really did get on the treadmill. And, I did pick up where I had left off the night before, and once again started "brain writing." When I finished, unlike the last time, I ran upstairs to type in one specific sentence that I really liked, and was afraid of losing. Of course, as often is the case when I want to write down "just one sentence," 15 minutes later I had 300 words.

But then I went to bed, and finished the next day. When the smoke cleared, I had written another 1,850 words.

I could get used to this!

A Revelation!

2011-12-17T22:27:00.000-05:00

We have some friends in the Pittsburgh area who are having a Christmas Eve open house. In the days BC (before children) we would not have thought twice about going. (For those of you who don't know, our kids are 6, 3, and 3.) We could head out around 6:00, drive for two hours, socialize for three or four, and then drive home. Piece of cake, especially when we could sleep in afterwards. But now...

We're still thinking of going. The weather will be the deciding factor. Since Christmas is on a Sunday, the kids will sleep in on Saturday, which means we can push their bedtime a bit. And they will sleep in the car on the way home.

My wife and I were talking about it at dinner tonight.

"You know what would be cool?" I said. "If we had my Mom come by while we're gone (she lives ten minutes away) and put out the presents." But then I realized:

1. It would be irrelevant, since the kids almost certainly will be asleep when we get home, and

2. If somehow they're not, we're doomed, since they'd want to open them right then.

And then it hit me. You often hear about families whose tradition is to open presents on Christmas Eve.

I wonder if that "tradition" started because the parents were sick of getting woken up at 6:00 a.m. on Christmas Day. If they open their presents at night, then there is no need to wake up early the next day. All you have to do is think of a reason why Santa would deliver the presents early Christmas Eve, and you're home free.

Hmmm.

I Love My Brain!

2011-12-16T22:25:00.000-05:00

OK, so that sounds a little vain. What I'm really thinking at this moment is that I love my treadmill. I can always use the cardio workout, since gym time has been hard to come by since the advent of the kids. But what I really love is that I can use my brain while walking, to write. As I mentioned in a recent post, I've become pretty adept at composing in my head, though I have to limit myself to dialog. I have a hard time maintaining descriptive passages in the gray matter until I can write or type them down. But conversation, I can hold onto.

For example...

Last night, I hopped on, fired up the treadmill, punched in 25 minutes on a 4.0 incline at 4.2 miles per hour, and walked down a road to nowhere.

I started thinking about the next scene in the book I'm working on. The words kept coming. And coming. And coming. I do have a little digital voice recorder. I really should get the Dragon speech recognition software, since this recorder has a USB plug, and was made to work with that application. Plug it in, hit play, and voila! Words! It will save me a lot of after-typing. Someday...

Anyway, by the time I had finished, it was pretty late. I thought I would be able to keep it all in my head until tonight. And I was right.

I just completed a 1,500-word brain dump. Not a bad job of caching, if I do say so myself.

As an added bonus, as I was walking around the office today, in the back of my head, I recalled that in this particular conversation, one of the actors makes reference to having twins. But what was the context? I kept asking myself. I couldn't remember. I assumed / hoped it would come to me as I wrote. It did.

Here's the setup: my hero has been in the hospital with an injury. His eyes have been taped shut due to light sensitivity. The doctor has just removed the bandages.

    “So you can see the three of us?” he asked.

    “I can. And you’re all beautiful.” I glanced behind them and focused on the wall. “Is it...11:00?”

    The doctor looked over his shoulder, then back at me. Even though I still was a long way away from high-definition visual processing, I could tell there that was some degree of amazement on his face. “Not quite,” he said. “It’s five until noon. But if you think about it, the hands are in the same place at both times. You just can’t distinguish between the big hand and the little hand yet.”

    “The big hand and the little hand? Do I really look that young?”

    “Sorry, I have four-year-old twins at home. So right now, Elmo and I are busy with helping them learn to read clocks.”

OK, I do love my brain!

Now if you'll excuse me, I hear the treadmill calling.

"All In The Name Of Regress" Revisited

2011-12-14T21:28:00.000-05:00

Yes, I am going to repeat myself. But bear with me.

I originally came up with the idea for "All In The Name Of Regress" while driving home from work one day, when I saw a tree that had been sculpted, for lack of a better word, around the telephone and electrical lines. I made a mental note to get a picture of it the next day. But I was delayed getting out of work, and had to rush home to meet the bus. So I couldn't take the time to stop. The next day, same thing. I think the day after that, I had to get the twins from day care, so I didn't go that way.

To make a long story longer, the next time I had an opportunity to stop, the tree didn't look...well, it didn't appear as I had remembered it. So I "settled" on a different picture of electrical wires. But over time, with the leaves changing colors, the scallop became more pronounced.

So here once again is "All In The Name Of Regress," with the "right" tree.

All In The Name Of Regress

In 2003,

a tree

touched electricity,

and we

sat dumbly,

idly,

in antiquity

(no TV

or PCs)

for 43

hours.

We cowered

until the powers

that be

called the sawers

to cut the boughs

away from the towers.

Regrettably,

fait accompli.

But, what's one less squirrel bower

if we

can guarantee

that we

would never see

the delivery

of our energy

interrupted by something as unlikely,

anti-

technology,

and utterly

unnecessary

as a tree?

Udopia Sample

2011-12-12T21:16:00.000-05:00

In previous posts, I've offered snippets of my novella, Udopia. I had wanted to share more. But what was I going to do...paste 30 pages into a blog entry? I don't think so.

Then my friend Jim, owner of the Fireside Bookshop in beautiful Chagrin Falls, graciously offered to host a sample on their server. It's not a web page you can navigate to from their website. But here is a link to the first 30 pages.

Read, and enjoy. Comment if you wish.

Applying Fiction In The Real World

2011-12-10T22:07:00.001-05:00

I truly believe in my heart that I will be a full-time author some day. Hopefully it is sooner rather than later. After all, I am actively, diligently working toward that goal. So let's hope that good things really do come to those who wait...and work their tails off.

When I do finally get "there," I know that I won't entertain ANY thoughts of "if only..." as in, "If only I could have done this 20 years ago, I never would have needed a 'real' job," just like my current hero, Richard Castle. No, I don't regret for a second having to work my myriad day jobs. I've made good friends, and I've learned a lot, about people, about politics, and about cool computer stuff. In fact, my current career -- information security and privacy -- has provided me with what I consider to be a valuable life skill for the high-tech world we live in now: a healthy sense of paranoia. Of course, as Dr. Johnny Fever once said, "When they are after you, paranoid is just good thinking."

For example, every now and then on my way to work, I pass a car which has several stick-figure family stickers on the back.You've probably seen them:

This car that I often see shows the "mommy" figure, two kids, and two pets.

Does this woman realize that she basically is advertising the fact that she's a single mom? Whether or not it's really true, it is a logical inference, based on the stickers. If I were a criminal, I might have another name for that: easy target. Clearly, one can't know whether she's a martial arts expert, or has a concealed carry permit. She might be formidible. But on the surface, she is saying, "I am alone."

And even if I were a non-violent criminal (i.e., not a kidnapper), I'd try to find out where that car goes every night, reasoning that the house almost certainly is vacant during the day, since she's clearly not a stay-at-home mom. To help with that effort, there also is a bumper sticker which displays the emblem of the school district they live in. Sure, it doesn't say what street; but it narrows down the search.

I hope this post doesn't come across as negative. Obviously, I'm not advocating violence or crime. But I am advocating caution and vigilance which, as an infosec pro, I have to exercise every day. I often have to put on a "black hat" in order to think about what sort of escapade a scammer might be dreaming up in order to separate our customers from their money. Similarly, as a writer of fiction, I frequently have to ask, "WWBGD?" (What Would a Bad Guy Do?)

The takeaway, I suppose, is to remember that if you can concoct an awesome fictional criminal attack, some real-world bad guy already has.

So be aware, and don't fall victim to some scheme that you thought was your personal property. Let's be careful out there, people.

Ah, Life In NE Ohio

2011-12-08T22:00:00.000-05:00

Don't get me wrong. I love living here. But...

Today as I was driving to work, the sun peeked out from behind a cloud. I reached up into the holder where I keep my sunglasses. But they were not there.

Where could they be? I wondered. Where did I last have them on?

Think.

Oh, I remember...they're in the diaper bag, which I last had on my back at the zoo.

On Sunday! Think about it. Today is Thursday! That means no sun on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday. Further, the reason they were in the diaper bag was because it started raining Sunday afternoon while we were at the zoo.

All I'm saying is that if Hemingway had lived in Cleveland, he would not have written The Sun Also Rises. How would he have known?

On a completely unrelated topic...

Steelers 7, Browns 3 at the half. At least it's not the massacre I had feared.

Why Am I Doing This Again...

2011-12-07T21:18:00.000-05:00

No matter how good of a writer I believe I am, at times I am wracked with self-doubt. What writer isn't? What writer doesn't fear that his or her efforts are nothing more than fanciful, self-indulgent drivel, and appealing to an audience of one? OK, maybe Stephen King never does. (Of course, what would scare that guy?) But I would imagine that the rest of us mortals occasionally wonder if we can "do this."

Case in point: my latest project, Nightmares. I think it seems like a cool concept. I think I concocted a compelling story. I think it's well written, with good action and realistic dialog.

I've sent out a few preliminary query letters to agents, and have gotten back three polite "no" responses. Am I ready to throw in the towel? Of course not, especially since in a blog I read the other day, the author said that she received 50 rejections before her book was accepted. So I'll put away the sharp objects and the noose for now. But still...

Am I good enough to be a Writer, with a capital "W?"
Will people want to buy my work?
Am I wasting my time?

And then I get something like this...

I had asked a few friends to review Nightmares, not as a proofreader, but more from the perspective of a fan of fiction. "If you started reading this book, would you keep reading?" I asked. One of my friends wrote the following:

What was supposed to be just at lunchtime turned into the rest of the afternoon. I couldn’t put it down. For me that says a lot. I've been reading quite a bit lately and if a book doesn't catch my interest quickly, I stop reading it. Yours, I enjoyed so much I started through it a second time this afternoon.

Yes, I know it came from a friend, who likes me, and therefore is biased toward my writing. Still, I asked for an honest assessment. And I believe I got one.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few more agents to query.

It May Be None Of My Business But...

2011-12-05T21:21:00.000-05:00

This isn't about writing. But I still feel compelled to say something...

Yesterday, my wife and I took our kids to the zoo. It was sunny and 50 degrees (in December, no less). After seeing some of the outside animals--the elephants, lions, monkeys, and giraffes--we went into the zoo's indoor rain forest. We first stopped for lunch, and then headed over to the exhibit areas.

As we passed the main entrance, in walked The Perfect Couple. Both were very attractive people. He wore a sport coat and slacks, and had thick, wavy, dark hair. She was slender, wearing stylish jeans, and had long, straight blonde hair. With them were their two kids, in a stroller, being pushed by a woman who:

1. I'm guessing was not related to either parent, and
2. I'm certain was not born in this country.

I said to my wife, "Honey, I knew you forget to bring something. Our Guatemalan maid!"

Come on, people! If you're taking your kids to the zoo, why don't YOU take them? Isn't that what family time is? I'm just wondering whom the dad plans to hire at some future date to play catch with his son. At least he'll probably take the daughter to the debutante ball when she turns 16; of course, you get your picture in the paper for that. </snotty cynicism>

Though it's not exactly the same, I once worked with a young woman from India who told me, "I do miss my parents. But I miss my servant more." Not because her servant waited on her hand and foot. Because it was her servant who raised her. I just hope these kids don't some day say the same thing.

Hey, and why not give the maid a day off while you're at it?

Oh, and who am I kidding? This will end up in a book or something some day. So I guess it ultimately is related to writing.

I Know It's Quality, Not Quantity. But...

2011-12-04T21:17:00.000-05:00

As I've gotten older, I seem to find that writing dialog has become easier for me. I don't know whether it's the fact that over time I've been part of more conversations, as well as heard more on television and in movies. Or perhaps I've developed an "ear," like one does for music. Of course, I can't discount the fact that I've become pretty good at "holding" dialog in my head. If I'm doing something mundane like the dishes, and come up with a descriptive passage, I pretty much need to stop and write it down, lest I lose it; dialog, in contrast, I can file away and transfer it from my RAM to the PC later.

Case in point...

The other day I was working on the follow-up to Nightmares. I won't talk too much about it yet. Let me just say that I think this book really has some "bite" to it. I was thinking of a conversation that my protagonist, Tommy, would be having with the female lead, Laura.

When I had some spare time, I opened the doc-in-progress. In 30 minutes, I knocked out 750 words. 750 words! Do the math: that's 1,500 words per hour. Though I know I realistically couldn't keep up that pace--if you'll excuse a little flight of fancy--that would be 12,000 words in an eight-hour day. So I could write a 70,000-word YA novel in about a week.

Boy, I sure would like the opportunity to make this my full-time job.

Castle: "Kill Shot"

2011-12-02T21:56:00.000-05:00

I apologize for the late summary of last week's (11/21) episode of "Castle." It sat in the DVR for a while. Busy, busy.

This was one of the better installments of late. I mentioned last time that I was somewhat disappointed with the Atlantic City episode. Though I cited the fact that it was outside of NYC -- which I consider to be a character unto itself -- the main problem was the lack of Castle-Beckett interaction, which I think really drives the show.

This one didn't have as much Castle as usual, since the focus was on Beckett. Therefore, there was not much interplay this time, either. But it still worked. She was great. I thought the scene where Esposito takes her into the evidence room and shows her the rifle that was used to shoot her was terrific. It was good to have them interact, and connect. As I've said in the past, too often a show becomes the star(s) and spare parts. I like to see Ryan and Esposito given some real substance to work with. Then, they closed the loop by (SPOILER!) having Esposito take out the sniper.

And they gave "Counselor Worf" an expanded role...enough to actually merit including him in the title sequence. I've been amused on occasion in the past when I see the name "Michael Dorn" at the beginning, and then he's in the show for literally 30 seconds at the end.

NIGHTMARES, Phase 2

2011-12-01T21:22:00.000-05:00

In a previous post, I mentioned that I had finished the first pass of Nightmares, and would then be circling back to the beginning to proof, check for logic flaws, etc. I actually finished this effort about two weeks ago, on Friday, 11/18. The final tally was just over 69,000 words, not far off from my estimate of 70,000.

Now begins the arduous process of trying to find an agent. I don't want to come across as negative. It's just that as a writer, I want to write and let someone else handle the "business" end of things, like finding a publisher. That's why you get an agent. If only it weren't so darned hard.

To be honest, I think it's worse than applying for a job. Of course, if I were out of work and my mortgage depended on finding a job, I might think differently. But since I do have a day job...

My reasons for asserting that an agent search is worse than a job search are:

1. There are so many agents out there. If I were applying for a job, since I have no intention of relocating, the pool of employers is fairly limited. Because of my profession -- information security -- I'm also largely limited to major corporations. But even if I were applying for a job as a writer, with various permutations (newspaper writer, technical writer, book editor) the number of potential companies is still comparably small. In contrast, there are hundreds -- if not thousands -- of literary agents out there. I use the Writers Market website to target my search to what I think are appropriate agents. The problem is, many agents accept clients who write in a variety of genres. So even with tools, the search process is challenging.

2. Every agent wants something different. Some say to send a query only. Some want the query plus the first chapter. Some want the first ten pages. I've even seen one that asked for 50 pages. On the other hand, though I know it's advisable to "tailor" a resume to match what the employer is looking for, it's not as if one says, "Send a one-paragraph summary," another says, "Send a one-page resume," and another says, "Send your resume along with your grade school, high school, and college transcripts."

3. The waiting game. With an employer, it's pretty much a given that their attitude is "Don't call us. We'll call you." Fine. Some agents say the same thing. Fine. But others say, "If you don't hear back in four weeks, please do write back." I appreciate that. It's just a lot to keep track of.

4. Though not very common, some agents say, "No simultaneous submissions." Could you imagine if an employer said the same thing about resumes? "Oh you've applied to corporation X as well? Write back when you're serious about applying for a job with us only."

Oh well.

As I said, I don't want this to come across as sour grapes. In fact, I'm sure the challenges will make me appreciate my agent -- once I find him or her -- all the more.

It's just the "getting there" part...

This Is SO Cool!

2011-11-29T21:41:00.000-05:00

Even though it has nothing to do with writing.

The other day, my wife mentioned that our grocery store loyalty card, which includes "fuel perks," had accumulated a $1.30 per gallon discount which was due to expire at the end of the month. What she didn't mention (or I didn't hear) was that there was more than the $1.30 built up, and that only that amount was expiring.

So I stopped to fill the tank today, scanned the card, and was surprised to see that we had a total of $3.30 per gallon in discounts waiting. I wish the pump would have allowed me to redeem only the expiring amount, but it didn't. Perhaps if I had gone in, I could have worked that out. But I simply forged ahead.

Since gas was $3.24 a gallon...well, you can do the math.

My only regret is that I didn't think to postpone the transaction, and arrange to meet my wife tomorrow so that we both could have filled up (even though it's against the rules).

Life is good!

More Muse Musings

2011-11-28T22:06:00.000-05:00

A while back, I made reference to the Poetry Muse, and how she sometimes pays me a visit and sets up shop in my head for like a week. Her sister...hmm...I'm sure which Muse helps with writing thriller novels. It's not Thalia, the muse of comedy, since Nightmares definitely is not a comedy, though it has its light-hearted moments. And it's not Melpomene, since the book is not a tragedy is the classical sense. Maybe I'll call her "Novelle." So Novelle, it would appear, is equally fickle and persistent.

A few weeks ago, I was touching up Nightmares. The kids were asleep, and I wanted to get down a few ideas that I had been working through in my head during the day. So I typed, typed, typed for about 20 or so minutes. When I had finished, I did a word count: 60,575, which represented just a little less than 300 new words.

I said to myself, "Time for bed," closed the laptop lid, and started to walk out of the office.

Then an idea came to me, and I didn't want to lose it. So I sat back down, opened it up, and started typing again. Another 100 words.

"OK, now I'm ready for bed." But as I started to leave the room, the same thing happened. So I sat down once more. 120 additional words.

Then I really went to bed.

And I wonder why I'm so tired all the time...

Man Up

2011-11-26T22:53:00.000-05:00

It was a beautiful sunny 60 degrees in Chagrin Falls today. So what did I do? I spent the afternoon on my roof, rebuilding the chimney crown. Your chimney, of course, is bricks. You might not have stopped to think about it (I really had not) but something has to cap it those bricks. That something is a chimney crown. It looks like this:

I should have thought to take up the camera and get a picture of ours, but, oh well.

There has been water coming in the twin's room when it rains. Since it usually happens when there is a lot of wind accompanying the rain, I suspect that cracks along the side are the real culprit. But the mortar of the crown itself had a lot of cracks, so it couldn't hurt to replace that as well.

Anyway, so I climbed the ladder around noon with a hammer and chisel, and started pounding away. It took about an hour and a half to get it all. To be honest, I thought that was pretty good, since mortar can sometimes be persistent. Then I hauled up a gallon jug of water and a 60-pound bag of mortar mix. By the way, for those of you who haven't seen my house, it's a fair distance. I measured the drop from peak to ground, today, at 21 feet.

(The drop in the back is even worse.)

Then it was mix the mortar, slap it down, and form a nice pyramid. At first, I could use the trowel. But then it was gloved hands and finally, bare hands with water on them to smooth it out.

Of course I also shoved some fresh stuff into the larger gaps between the bricks and the mortar. And on a related note, I took the opportunity to hammer down the roofing nails which had popped up, and then smothered them with goo.

How did I do? I suppose we'll find out when it next rains, which could be tonight.

Sure, it's not Hemingway driving an ambulance during World War I. But it was still pretty butch, if you ask me.

I Find This Amusing

2011-11-21T22:50:00.000-05:00

Have you ever wondered whether search engines try to steer you to one (unpaid) site over another? (Because of course they try to steer you to a paid advertiser's site first). Then try this little experiment. Go to Yahoo, and type in "Maps."

Notice which is the first returned, and which is second.

I think that's funny

What To Write, What To Write?

2011-11-16T21:23:00.000-05:00

Since Castle wasn't on this week, what am I going to talk about? How about my latest project, Nightmares. It's a YA thriller, about a dream-transfer experiment which goes awry, and turns people into monsters. My hero, Tommy, must face off against a demon that was created from one of his dreams...literally his own worst nightmare, come to life.

I think it's a page-turner, but I suppose the readers will be the ultimate judges.

I completed the first draft about a week and a half ago. 65,000 words. Since then, I've been revising and tidying up. It's now up to 68,000, and I expect to finish the second pass this weekend, at the latest. Two friends--both avid fiction junkies--have agreed to look at it. If anyone else wants to see it, please post a comment and let me know.

A little while back, I posted the prologue to my blog. (I looked it up. September 29...wow!) Continuing, below is chapter 1.

Enjoy!

The sun was in my eyes. But it didn't matter. I could still see her in the distance, just as I had remembered her. She was wearing the same floral print dress. She cradled a dozen red roses in her arms. I had sent them. Somehow. The wind was strong, and whipped her hair savagely across her face, obscuring her porcelain features. Everything, except for her mouth.

I wanted to distrust my eyes. This just couldn't be real. It was as though nothing had changed. It was like...it was like time had simply stopped and stood idly by, in deference to her. It had been...I can't remember how long it had been since I had last seen her. She was so beautiful. All I wanted was to hold her. But the rolling and waving meadow separating us seemed endless. Miles of heather, clover, and goldenrod. And I have hay fever.

We were frozen on opposite sides of an immense gulf. But I was determined to let nothing keep us apart this time. She eyed me lovingly, longingly. I felt a few beads of perspiration gather on my forehead. My palms were sweaty. She licked her lips.

And then we started running towards each other. In slow-motion, just like in the movies. Our arms outstretched, we raced across the field, trying to eliminate the distance. It was taking forever. The sun remained big and bright, and birds were chirping. More movie imagery.

Soon I was close, almost close enough to smell her. We ceased running and then walked a few deliberate paces. We stopped, and just stood, staring, not twenty feet apart. The wind now was blowing directly at her face, forcing her to squint slightly, but drawing her hair back in a magnificent amber flow. The wind also playfully lifted that beautiful sun dress, occasionally treating me to a glimpse of her silk thigh. Then it was quiet. Silent. Dead, eerie calm.

She held up something shiny, something silvery. It was a key. She looked at it, kissed it, and then bent down to place it beneath a garden gnome that was at her feet. She straightened back up and blew me a kiss that, by the time it arrived at my cheek, had swelled into a small, localized gale.

I touched my cheek where the wind had caressed it, and looked at her. She looked down. My gaze followed hers. There were now four gnomes. Suddenly, the gnomes grew and grew and grew, until they became four armed men, soldiers, most likely Chinese or perhaps North Korean. I’ve never actually seen a Chinese or North Korean soldier up close, though we did study the Korean War in history last year. Also, I used to watch the show M*A*S*H a lot. And they looked kind of like the extras, who never really said anything, but just looked menacing.

The sky changed color and the wind immediately died.

Surprised.

Horrified.

Petrified.

These words don't do justice to the gamut of synonyms for scared that flashed through me at that moment. I was paralyzed. Frozen with fear. And suddenly everything was very loud. My heartbeat echoed in my ears and reverberated through the air. I felt sure that even the soldiers could feel its rhythm. But they just stared, their gaze fixed upon my chest.

And still she stood there. Strangely, they seemed oblivious to her. Perhaps she would be spared. Or maybe she was next. I wanted to call out to her. But the sounds weren't there. Why wasn't she running? Was her fear so great that it rendered the body null? Was she hoping for an opportunity to save me? Or did she want to see the end? What possible reason could she have?

She smiled. My heartbeat grew in intensity and volume.

Upon the command of one, they leveled their rifles and took aim. Although I don't speak Chinese or Korean, I assume the leader was counting.

One.

The birds were singing again. The leader glanced back at her. Her gaze shifted from his face to mine. He looked at me. He was no longer a man, exactly. His face resembled that of a gargoyle, with a beak, and horns. His eyes then began to glow.

Two.

She parted her lips slightly and licked them, and then casually drew the hair back behind her left ear. A golden wedding ring glittered in the sun. I felt a tear in my eye.

The leader raised his arm quickly, and then snapped it down again, only now it seemed to move frame by frame. She screamed.

Three.

Smoke and fire belched from the three rifle barrels, as the retort echoed among the hills. I actually saw the bullets speeding towards my heart.

I put up my hands. "Go away," I said.

And they did. The bullets, the soldiers, the gargoyle, and the girl. Into thin air.

Funny Foto #8

2011-11-13T21:36:00.000-05:00

Or, "How To Annoy Innocent People."

I saw this sign on a gas pump near my house

I'm tempted to press it, and when he or she answers I'll just start crying and sharing my problems.

Castle: "Heartbreak Hotel"

2011-11-10T22:29:00.000-05:00

I was a little disappointed with this week's episode of "Castle." While it was nice for "the boys" to have some time together, a large part of the show's energy comes from Castle's and Beckett's interaction, their romantic tension. That's why "Moonlighting" worked. And this week, Castle-Beckett was minimal. Also, the city of New York itself serves as one of the show's major characters. They almost always have some scenes outside. The inside of a casino in New Jersey just isn't as interesting.

And ...

The casino owner--the dead guy's partner--did a few things that were completely outside the realm of logic. First, he kicked Castle, Ryan, and Sanchez out of the casino, which could lead one to think that they were getting too close to the truth. But, he wasn't guilty, and he knew he wasn't guilty. So why would he stand in the way of the people who might actually be able to find his money? Then, he had Castle dragged into his office and he threatened him with a baseball bat. He said something to the effect of, "I can't beat up cops, but you..." Let's see, you escorted two NYPD officers (in Elvis garb) off the premises, and had two of your thugs carry Castle through multiple camera-monitored hallways to your office. So later, if Castle were to wind up in an ER with a fractured skull, what were you planning to say, "I have no idea how it happened. What, he claims I hit him? My word against his." I don't think so.

And in my weekly comment on "looks," I loved Alexis' "help me" look at the very end. I'm 99% certain that she was in a cell phone or cell phone provider commercial a few years back, where the mother calls her daughter her "BBF." The daughter gives the same look. I tried to Google and YouTube it, but had no success. Still, I'm pretty certain it was her.

Election Day Funny

2011-11-08T06:27:00.000-05:00

A sign, in my neighborhood:

Who says we in Chagrin Falls don't have a sense of humor?

Actually, it's kind of ironic since in conversation--as well as in my infosec book--I compare Chagrin Falls to Mayberry.

Anyway, like they used to say in old Chicago: "Vote early, and vote often."

Double Bummer

2011-11-06T21:01:00.000-05:00

Well, the month is not shaping up as I had hoped. I got two rejection letters this week. Main Street Rag said "no" to Udopia, and Allegory Magazine turned down my short story "Tarantulas On Leashes."

The former offered no feedback, which they are not obligated to do. But the folks at Allegory said: "First exchange of dialogue with Sybil may have been a way of showing social ineptness but it didn’t add much to the story." That was the purpose of that bit of dialog, so I think I want to keep it. But I'll take their comment into consideration. Perhaps I can make it more relevant. They also said, "Some adverbs could’ve been eliminated or replaced with descriptive phrases." I definitely will heed that advice.

On the bright side, I just finished Nightmares. 65,000 words, which is perfect for YA fiction. It's the first run-through, of course, so I have some editing to do. If I had to guess, I'd say I'll probably add 5,000 words. Not that I'm trying; it's just what I think. We'll see how close I come. But I believe I'll be able to wrap it up by December.

Of course, to put it in perspective, a very good friend of mine just lost her Dad. So in the grand scheme of things, I really can't complain about my week.

Write on!

Castle: "Cops & Robbers"

2011-11-04T22:01:00.000-04:00

Hmmmm. A mixed bag this week. First the good...

Overall, I liked the plot. It started out as a bank robbery, then Ryan and Sanchez found the murder. Still, the focus remained on the bank. Then at the end, the four principals worked at lightning speed to resolve it.

There were a few good "looks." Beckett's confusion when Castle called at the beginning to say, "Tell me you need me." And their loving glances when she rescued him. (But Castle should have smacked his mom for butting in. "She was so going to kiss me, mother!")

I knew "Sal" was in on it. I could just tell.

I also enjoyed his "count" at the end. He claims to have saved her life nine times, to her eight reciprocal saves. I wonder if that is accurate, based on the past episodes. (Though it's not like I'm going to ever watch them and find out.) And the line about pulling her from the bathtub was precious.

Now the writer in me takes over...

1. When Beckett went into the bank as an EMT, she should have / would have used an accent. (BTW, why do none of the main characters have New York accents??) Trapper Jack would have recognized her voice.

2. Castle speculated that the robbers needed time, in case they couldn't find the right box. Safe deposit box keys generally have the box number stamped on them. At least mine does. And I think it's a reasonable assumption that most would. Who memorizes his or her safe deposit box number?

3. Why did the robbers put on masks when the robbery started? They all walked into the bank with them off. So their faces were captured by the bank's DVRs. Though I did like the TV doctor code names.

4. Castle knows Morse Code? Really? Beckett knows Morse Code? Really?

5. Now the big one. Sal didn't need to stage bank robbery. If he had the key, he could have gotten in. Again, based on personal experience, the folks at my bank never ask me to show an ID. I just sign a card. Of course, they know me personally, as I work for the same bank. Nonetheless, unless there were special instructions to only allow "two old people" access to that box, Sal could have shown them the key, asked for them to open the door, and gotten the contents. And if there had been specific instructions about restricting access, the bank manager would have remembered that box 120 was special.

6. Now the other big one.

Why did Agnes and her daughter go to all this trouble--the safe deposit box drop--which would have required the daughter to drive in from Ithaca to make the drop?
If they were exchanging letters via a drop system, why would her address appear on any of the correspondence? It wouldn't have to. Agnes wouldn't even need to know it. So the letters wouldn't have helped Sal, at least not to the degree of pinpointing her.
Why not stick with the U.S. Mail? It's reasonably secure and, as I referenced in the last point, it's not like they would refuse to deliver the letters TO Agnes if the daughter eliminated the return address.
If you're going to set up this elaborate "drop system," why not just use the priest? The daughter mails letters to the church, and on a weekly basis Agnes can visit to read and reply.
For that matter, unless Agnes is completely technophobic, there is this thing now called "email." One's email account is hard to crack into. And even if Sal managed to steal Agnes' password, from what I hear, it's pretty hard to figure out where someone lives from a Hotmail or GMail address.

Bad Pun Of The Day

2011-11-01T22:42:00.000-04:00

Since you can never get enough mal mots...

If someone really likes pogo dancing, would you say he suffers from obsessive-convulsive disorder?

Thank you, I'll be here all week.

What Is Old Is New Again

2011-10-29T22:33:00.000-04:00

I like listening to AOL Radio while I'm cooking dinner. I'm kind of bummed, because they seemed to have dropped the "Global Beats" station, which I really enjoyed. Tonight, I opted for the 80s channel. The first songs I heard were:

"Love Is A Battlefield" by Pat Benetar.

"Footloose" by Kenny Loggins.

"California Girls" by David Lee Roth.

"Venus" by Bananarama.

(The links on the left take you to the videos, should you wish to stagger down memory lane.)

OK, so the third and fourth songs are from the 60s. The second was re-made into a movie this year.

I also found it amusing that a few songs later they played "Wild Thing" by Tone-Loc and "Hungry Eyes" by Eric Carmen. The former has nothing to do with the Troggs hit, other than sharing the title. Still...

And the latter was from a guy who was a 70s has-been.

Funny.

Another Small Victory

2011-10-28T22:09:00.000-04:00

The other day, I mentioned that I made the "top 10" in agent Rachelle Gardner's blog, asking for the best answer to, "How many agents does it take to change a light bulb?"

I also entered agent Janet Reid's latest 100-word contest. My entry:

"So, a witch, a werewolf, and a ghost walk into a bar. And the werewolf says, am I hairy, or is it hot in here?"

Uproarious laughter.

I had sworn off doing stand-up for the zombie crowd. But a few Benjamins waved under my nose, and they were unforsaken. The pay was good, though the audiences could be dead. And in varying states of decay. If they don't kill you, the deadly, insalubrious air of the club will.

"You guys slay me. Take my life, please..." As they began their trudge to the stage, I thought, Bad choice of words.

was named a semi-finalist.

My friend Bill also got an honorable mention for his.

OK, so maybe this isn't a direct line to a Pulitzer. Still...

Castle: "Demons"

2011-10-27T21:21:00.000-04:00

There was a lot of like about this week's episode of "Castle."

Though the show rarely has a "straight line" plot, this one, I felt, really was like peeling back the layers of an onion. At first, it was just about the ghost hunter and a chance, bad encounter of some sort. Then we learn that he was from New York, and that the McLaren house always creeped him out. Then we meet the (faux??) psychic named Mercedes, aka "Mercy," which just happened to be the last thing the victim said before he died. Then comes the revelation that he had been having dreams about the place, and consulted Mercy for help in uncovering a real, repressed memory. Finally, they wrapped it up by tying that memory back to the last (of many) deaths in the building.

I also enjoyed "the looks." Since I don't watch much TV (well, any other TV), I can't say whether other shows get the actors to express themselves so much with their faces. But the players on "Castle" really do. Looking back at the previous episode, I loved it when Castle did a spit-take, and Ryan glanced up and to the right, watching the spray. Notable "looks" this week:

Alexis's "WTF" look when Castle had just finished telling her it sent the wrong message to rearrange her life around Ashley, and then rushing off because Beckett called.
Castle's "yes" look when Beckett said "I ain't afraid of no ghosts."
Lanie's burn when Ryan's fiancee asked, "When are you two going to get married?" and when Castle asked, "How was the date?"
And finally, Beckett's skeptical look, every time Castle brought up a paranormal theory. Of course, she gets to use that look a lot.

And finally, I really thought they made good use of cultural references: "Ghostbusters," "Scooby-Doo," and "Poltergeist."

Top 10

2011-10-24T21:47:00.000-04:00

Another of the agents whose blog I follow is Rachelle Gardner. She recently ran a contest: come up with the best answer to "How many agents does it take to screw in a light bulb?"

My entry:

Only one. The problem is, the publisher asks her to change it again. And again. And again…

Though I didn't win, I made the "honorable mention" list.

I hear that 70% of Pulitzer Prize winners started this way.

Query Draft...Please Comment!

2011-10-23T21:48:00.000-04:00

OK, so I don't often explicitly ask anyone to comment on my posts. But this time, I am. I'm working on a new project. It's a thriller. I'm not quite to the querying-an-agent stage yet. But I soon will be. So I would like your opinion of the following:

Tommy's heart was racing, beating fast, like a million times a second. He should have been doing something normal, like sitting at home studying for a test or making out with a cheerleader. Instead, he was standing on the cornice of a church, 50 feet in the air, staring into the glowing red eyes of the monster, waiting for it to charge.

“Why am I doing this?” he asked himself? “Oh yeah, it’s my monster, created through my thoughts. So I need to take care of it.”

The demon let out a roar, a sound he had heard all too often over the past week.

“But why can’t I just let the police handle it? Well, I guess the fact that it can see through my eyes, and hear what I’m saying, has something to do with my sense of personal responsibility and urgency.”

Looking back over the murderous events of past week, Tommy realized that he should have listened to the critics and his own gut, both of which had said that dream manipulation was dangerous, and could produce unexpected consequences. Well, the consequence--all seven feet of it--was at this moment staring into his eyes and flexing its claws.

Remember: Dreams sometimes can go astray, and when they do, that's what we call...

NIGHTMARES is a YA magical realism novel, complete at 70,000 words.

(In case you didn't know, YA stands for young adult.)

Obviously, you know nothing about the book. But neither will an agent. Does it grab your attention? Does it make you want to know more about it? If this were on the back cover, would you crack the book and start reading? Is there something else you would like to know?

I would really appreciate your input!

Most Terrifying Contest Ever!

2011-10-21T21:58:00.000-04:00

In the past, I've made reference to the blog of literary agent Janet Reid. She frequently runs a contest: write a 100-word short story, using specific words.

This week's list:

UNFORSAKEN
DEADLY
WITCH
GHOST
DECAY
SLAY
Bonus points if you also use the word "Insalubrious"

Here is my entry.

At the time of this posting, she has 110 entries. Wish me luck.

Little Literary Rant

2011-10-18T21:16:00.000-04:00

In the downtown business district where I live, there is an astrologer / card reader / psychic. The sign in the window says, "No appointment necessary."

If she's that good, I shouldn't need one.

And a few doors down is a hair salon. They have a sign: "Walk-ins receive a 20% discount."

How else does one get into a hair salon?

More Poetree: "All In The Name Of Regress"

2011-10-15T21:54:00.000-04:00

I had a dickens of a time getting a photo I liked. The other day as I was taking the kids to day care, I passed under a series of wires, as I do every day. There was a morning fog with the sun filtering through. I think it would have made a spectacular pic. Why I didn't stop...I'll never know.

Of course, I suppose a misty morning will happen again, and I can get it then. But for now, this works.

All In The Name Of Regress

In 2003,
a tree
touched electricity,
and we
sat dumbly,
idly,
in antiquity
(no TV
or PCs)
for 43
hours.
We cowered
until the powers
that be
called the sawers
to cut the boughs
away from the towers.
Regrettably,
fait accompli.
But, what's one less squirrel bower
if we
can guarantee
that we
would never see
the delivery
of our energy
interrupted by something as unlikely,
anti-
technology,
and utterly
unnecessary
as a tree?

Castle: "Kick The Ballistics"

2011-10-12T21:40:00.000-04:00

I could get used to writing something about "Castle" each week.

I enjoyed this week's episode. Of course. I liked that this show built upon a previous one, and that the story arc is still not finished, one would assume. I'm not saying a show should be a complete serial, like "Twin Peaks" or "Lost." But having one or two continuing threads keeps the viewer on his toes.

It was nice to see the focus on Ryan. Too many shows devolve into The Star(s), and the spare parts.

At one point, Ryan tells Beckett about the dumbest thing he ever had done as a cop: he had called out the name of a narc informant in the middle of the squad room, which at the time was full of busted drug dealers. Five minutes later, Beckett reveals the name of the undercover cop (he went by "Seth;" I forget the detective's real name) to Mr. Lee, head of a crime family. What's up with that? Careless mistake? Or was she setting him up?

On the downside, they did something that I had seen on several episodes of "Law & Order," which always made me shake my head way back when. In the L&O episode I'm thinking of, the police find a woman who has been tortured to within an inch of death. She's alive, but she's not yet able to talk to them. So they question her ex-husband. His alibi is that he was with a buddy at some high-society fundraiser. The next scene shows (we assume, then learn) the buddy walking out of his swank tennis club, talking back over his shoulder to the police officers. "Yeah, he was with me that night until around 2:00 a.m. Blah, blah, blah." As he gets into his car, one of the officers asks, "Do you know who could have done this?" "No," he says. "And I hope I never meet him. He sounds like one sick bastard." And then he drives off. And I remember thinking, "Well, I see you have decided that the police are done. I hope they feel the same way." The same thing happened on "Castle." At some point, the bar owner says, "You can wait for Seth. I've got to get to work." And then he walks away.

Finally, I liked the surprise ending. If I can some day convince someone that it's worth it to publish "Tarantulas On Leashes," "Swarm Summer Nights," Udopia,"and especially No Strings Attached, you'll see what I mean.

"Fire," My First Example Of "Poetree"

2011-10-09T21:58:00.000-04:00

On Labor Day, my family and I visited the Geauga County Fair. On the way there--along Route 87 and incidentally almost across the road from where I went to summer camp--I saw an old, barkless tree. I thought it looked like a skeleton hand. As my mind ran over the image, I thought it would make a good poem. I thought about it a little more, and realized that having the picture, and then writing the poem, would be even better. I thought still more, and came up with a few other ideas for poems which just needed an appropriate tree, and I saw some trees which I thought would make a good poem.

I still need to get a picture of the skeleton hands tree. I'm working on the poem. But I have several photos, and several poems, in progress.

But below is the first that have both image and words, together and completed.

Fire

The waning vestiges of summer sun
Pass fire to the leaves when autumn comes.
The longer rays give way to shorter days.
No longer sky, but Earth which seems ablaze.
In crimson, copper, auburn, orange, saffron
The palette of the summer sun lives on.

As always, comments are welcome.

Castle: "Head Case"

2011-10-05T21:27:00.000-04:00

"Castle" is my favorite show. Actually, it's the only show we watch. So by definition, I think it has to be my favorite.

Though the interplay between the two main characters is great, at the risk of forfeiting my "hetero card," I watch the show more for Castle than for Beckett.

I like Nathan Fillion as an actor. IMHO, no one else could be Castle. I think his expressions and delivery are great. Stana Katic is good, too, of course, though I think she looked better with her season one short hair. Plus, as a cop, it makes more sense to have short hair...it gives the bad guys one less thing to grab on to. For that same reason, if you saw Monday's episode, you'll notice that Ryan removed his tie before they went on their first raid. My buddy the cop wears a clip-on for that very reason.

Speaking of Monday's show, we actually got to watch it live, which hasn't happened in...gosh, I can't remember how long. Of course, when you have a DVR, why watch something live?

So I thought I'd share a few thoughts, good, bad, indifferent. There are no spoilers per se, though I do discuss some tidbits.

- I like William Atherton. Usually he plays complete jerks--and he's very good at it. So I liked this role...25% jerk, 70% businessman who believes in his enterprise, 5% likeable.
- When they first visited the cryo-lab, Beckett had on heels that were at least 4" high. Yeah, perfect for chasing a suspect. (Yes, another hetero warning.)
- The pigeon with the .45 slug in it? I'm sorry. I'm not a ballistics expert, but I'm pretty certain that if you shot a pigeon with a .45, there would no longer be a pigeon.

- I always am amused by fiction (or for that matter, reality) which involves the cryonic preservation of humans, until "modern medicine can cure their illness." Ted Williams has been frozen, though I believe it was his son who actually did it. Don't these people realize that if they are revived 200 years in the future, they won't even be qualified to be garbage collectors in the "new world?" They'll be primitives.

Also, I thought it was funny that Alexis brought up the rejection letter which Castle has framed and hanging on the wall, a plot element which may or may not have been brought up before. (I'd never seen or heard about it.) Prior to learning of the letter, I had concocted the following snippet of dialogue.

Castle: "Do you have any idea what it's like to pour your heart and soul into something, send it off to a complete stranger, wait in agony, and then receive a rejection letter? Because you don't see it as a rejection of the novel. You see it as a rejection of you. They're not saying your writing stinks. They're saying you stink."
Ryan: "Wow. How did you handle that?"
Castle: "Handle what?"
Ryan: "The rejection letter."
Castle: "I don't know. It never happened to me. I had five publishers engaged in a bidding war over my first manuscript. But I've heard it happens."

So what did you think of the show?

Seese 1, Dishwasher 0

2011-10-03T21:14:00.000-04:00

Or maybe dishwasher 1/2...

This post has nothing to do with writing, since there are a few things in life (very few, in my mind) which do not involve writing.

We bought a new dishwasher nearly three years ago. Over the course of that first year, it would behave "badly." Specifically, sporadically the lid to the soap container would not open during the course of the wash cycle. I assumed it was just sticking, since the next time it would open.

In hindsight, as it neared the one-year (read: warranty expiration) mark, I suppose I should have called for a service tech. But I didn't want to say, "I guess we'll have to run a complete cycle, and see if it opens. If it doesn't, we'll just have to try again."

I probably should have done that, though, because some time after year one, it stopped opening entirely. The pre-rinse soap still made it into the cycle. But the main rinse has been water only since then.

I stopped at a parts store last winter, and described what I needed. But the only thing that he had cost $150, and could not be returned once opened. And, he really wasn't sure that what he pulled off the shelf truly was what I was asking for. Since I was periodically getting those "extend your warranty" letters--and it cost about $120--I started considering that.

Sometime over the summer, I took it all apart, took OUT the offending piece, and lubricated everything in the hope that would fix it. No dice. But I at least had the foresight to write down the part number.

Last week, while cleaning my desk, I came across the piece of paper with the part number on it. I Googled that number, and the first website returned had it for $31, plus taxes and shipping. The part arrived two days later. I put it in yesterday, and ran the dishes overnight. (Our washer has a "four-hour" delay feature, which I think is really cool.)

AND IT WORKED!

Damn, I'm good!

On To The Next Thing...

2011-09-29T22:15:00.000-04:00

Grrr!

I haven't heard back regarding Udopia from either the Main Street Rag or any agents. Allegory Magazine hasn't said anything about "Tarantulas On Leashes." And still no word on what the folks at Manic D Press think about my poems.

It's been like, two weeks. What is wrong with this people? Have they no sense of urgency? Removing tongue from cheek, of course it's going to be a while. So what am I working on now?

Well...

I had planned on finishing No Strings Attached. I estimate I'm about 40,000 words away, which would be a couple of months of good, solid effort.

But then something else struck my fancy. I pulled the first novel I ever began out of mothballs and began re-working it. I'm intentionally being vague on the details because...no reason, really. Just deal with it.

When I first wrote it, I put each chapter in its own document. Therefore, I had no idea how long it was. The other week, I put everything together. It's 75,000 words. I always had thought I was about 2/3 to 3/4 done with the the story arc. Working the math, it would be around 100,000 words when done. But also, in looking at it, I saw it takes a while to "get going." The action really didn't start until the 45th page, out of 170. So I've been mercilessly hacking, and re-configuring some stuff (such as the age of my protagonist).

It's definitely a case of addition by subtraction. It's now down to 54,000 words. But the good stuff starts on page 22 of 164. The story really moves along better now. It's crisper.

As I mentioned, I want to keep a lot of the details close to me. But here's the prologue:

    I am a dream weaver. That is how I make money:
        I make dreams for other people.
    Not just any dreams.
          But good dreams.
        And not just any people.
             But weak people, scared people. Everyday people, normal people.
    People like your friends, co-workers, maybe even your wife.
        People who are so close to the edge in this increasingly frightening world, that their nightmares begin to interfere with their lives.
    Virtually stop them from functioning.
          Literally scare them out of their wits.
        But I help them through the night by sharing my dreams, a sort of mental tour guide, if you will.
              Dreams 'R Us.
    We go there together, bound by the thinnest of filaments, to the place where the line between reality and creation bends and gives ominously.
            I hold their hands as we dodge and outrun the monsters, demons, ghosts, and                         bogeymen.
    In the morning, they are reborn, happy, and ready to go on.
           All because of me and my dreams.
    But…
    Dreams sometimes can go astray, and when they do, that's what we call nightmares.

Literary Man's Rant

2011-09-27T21:51:00.000-04:00

Here's another post which illustrates my habit of nitpicking grammar, word choice, etc...

With regard to radio, I listen almost exclusively to college stations. One of my favorites is that of Case Western Reserve University, WRUW. I love them to death, so I probably shouldn't bust their chops. But I can't help myself.

Like I imagine every college radio station does, they hold an annual radiothon. One of the projects that this year's donations are being used for is a project to put their music collection onto a hard drive, to enable the DJs to have quicker access. They sometimes run a PSA touting the conversion. I have to laugh. They say something to the effect of, "By 2014, we will have digitized our entire CD collection."

And I can't help but think, "Oh, so you have analog CDs somewhere?"

Did You Ever Stop To Think...

2011-09-23T21:54:00.000-04:00

Today at work, while waiting for the microwave, I overheard two people chatting. One said she had been very busy, and finished with "Nose to the grindstone."

Really, what does that mean?

Think about it. If I had my nose on a grindstone, I don't think I'd be able to work, PERIOD, let alone work efficiently.

Here's The Pitch...

2011-09-21T21:51:00.000-04:00

I've always been a "swing for the fences" kind of guy. And why not? If you connect, it's out of the park. But even if you don't, and just make contact, it can still fall in for a single.

Enough baseball.

A perfect example is my friend Kimberly. Several years ago, my wife and I visited Kimberly and her husband in the Bay area. Kimberly had recently published her book, Scrappy Project Management. She asked me if I wanted to write a book for the Scrappy label. Her ultimate plan was to develop the Scrappy series to the point where someone like "For Dummies" would want to buy it, as in, buy the whole concept. So I wrote and they published Scrappy Information Security & Scrappy BCP. There are now several other Scrappy books as well. As far as I know, For Dummies has not come a'calling. So technically, she / we did not accomplish the goal of selling the series. Is she disappointed? Hardly, considering that Scrappy Project Management consistently ranks in the top-50,000 best sellers on Amazon. (That's good.) Mine, unfortunately, do not get that high...yet! And though Kimberly may not be earning "retirement money" from the sales of her book, I'm sure it's funding some nice dinners and fine bottles of wine.

The point is, aim high, but be satisfied with reaching smaller milestones.

So here I am. I would love to get some of my poetry published. Again, I'm trying to build up my resume, my CV, in the hope of 1) attracting general attention to my work and, 2) giving publishers a varied list of works that were good enough to attract someone's attention, in order to help boost my cred when they're considering whatever project I've submitted to them. I read somewhere words to the effect of, "Don't try to convince a publisher to release a book of your poetry. Get poems published in a number of magazines and anthologies, and then you'll have a book." Good advice, which I had planned to follow.

But...

While looking for magazines and anthologies, I came across Manic D Press, which says on their website, more or less, "Hey, send us 5 - 10 poems if you want to have us consider a book of your poetry." This is the same publisher I referred to a few posts back, when I presented my poem, "On Writing In Coffeeshops."

OK, why not? So I just sent 5 - 10 today. Worst case, they say, "No thanks," and I fall back on my plan of looking for magazines and anthologies.

But if they say "yes" ...

Another Day, Another Poem

2011-09-19T21:34:00.000-04:00

This popped into my head Saturday night, just before bed. So I scribbled it down in bits and pieces, and finished it the next day. I could see adding more in the future, as other "green" ideas come to me. But I'm pretty happy with it now.

Green

I feel terrible.

But I had no choice;

my hand was forced.

Today,
I stood and waited for the bus,
to take me to my job
at the food co-op,
reading the e- (rather than tree-) version
of the Times on my tablet,
at my feet,
my reusable hemp-fiber lunch bag,
containing:
organic carrots,
dolphin-safe tuna
on unbleached bread,
and a locally grown apple,
and wearing
only clothes that were not manufactured
by Chinese eight-year-olds.
And non-leather shoes.

The bus came early,
and I was forced to throw
the aluminum can
containing my half-consumed Dr. Pepper
into a "regular" trash receptacle,
because there were no others close by,
and the bus has a strict
no-open-container policy.

I hope they don't revoke
my "green card."

I'm not a huge fan of free verse. After all, what really is the difference between free verse and prose? Line length, perhaps. But in this case, it just seemed to fit.

On Writing In Coffeeshops

2011-09-18T21:43:00.003-04:00

I'm in a poetry mood again. Some titles I've started are "Kitty Heaven," "9 Lives," "Vs." and "Couplets." (Not to mention the "tree series," but that's a whole other story.) I just need to find the time to finish them. But one I did complete...

I found a really neat poem the other day. It's by Adrienne Su, from her book, Having None of It.

On Not Writing In Cafes

It's too much like sex in a car:

fine as a concept (everyone needs

to be seen at times by strangers),

but reality seldom agrees.

It's clumsy. Whoever happens

along as you start to forget yourself

is not what you fancied - a relation,

a stranger you know too well.

The hand that isn't holding the pen

flails like an animal pinned by a leg.

And the gorgeous epiphany, just then

at the tip of your tongue, has fled.

(Used without permission. But hey, I am giving her proper attribution.)

I really like this poem. The opening simile is precious, so appropriate. And I love the last two lines as well.

But, I like writing in public places. I find that I draw a lot of inspiration when I'm out. So I wrote a counterpoint.

On Writing In Coffeeshops

Blatant exhibitionism:

public display of erudition,

or "PDE." Bringing your art

out, where characters and plot lines hide.

It's exhilarating. Choosing

from the menu board of sensations:

The java smells, the conversation hum,

the visage kaleidoscope.

You put down the pen and dream into

a stranger's words, tics, gestures, or silence.

And then it happens. The muse, elusive,

flirty, coy, has pulled up a chair.

Fun, huh?

Signed, Sealed, Delivered #2

2011-09-14T21:53:00.000-04:00

Fresh on the heels of submitting Udopia to the Main Street Rag ...

I sent "Tarantulas On Leashes," a 2,500-word short story, to Allegory Magazine. Their current submission period runs until 10/31. The publication date will be 1/1/2012. The competition is fierce. Per their website, they receive 150 unsolicited manuscripts per month, and accept eight per issue.

Though I'd like to think it was a Herculean effort--Wow, you completed a novella and a short story over the span of two days??-- the truth is that "Tarantulas" has been finished for quite some time now. I even had a chance to give the once-over. But I wanted to focus on getting the novella to Main Street before thinking about any other submissions. Now, maybe I'll try to get some poems published...

I posted about half of "Tarantulas" on my "In Progress Stuff" page. Stop by, give it a read, and let me know what you think.

Signed, Sealed, DELIVERED!

2011-09-13T21:48:00.000-04:00

It's done! Udopia, that is. I am thrilled to say that Udopia has been completed (first draft, of course; 39,200 words), edited (a big thanks to my friend Bill), and sent to the Main Street Rag, two days before the end of their open call for novellas. Their website says they hope to respond by the end of October. Wow!

I've also queried a few literary agents. It can't hurt to have a backup.

So cross your fingers and think good, literary thoughts on my behalf.

And how am I going to celebrate? By doing the dishes and a load of laundry. But after that, maybe I'll have some wine and ice cream.

Also, I'll take a look over the "how-to sections" of this blog site and see if there is a way I can post a document, such as the first chapter. I know I could just paste it in, but I think it would be neater / cleaner if I could attach it as a doc.

9/11

2011-09-11T21:11:00.000-04:00

I hadn't really planned on doing any commentary, but something caught my attention. The other day on the radio, I heard something to the effect on, "And on the 10th anniversary of 9/11..."

From a pure writing / grammar perspective, that statement is nonsense. There is no such thing as the anniversary of a month and date. September 11 happens every year. You could argue that every year, there is a 10th anniversary of 9/11.

And yet, to those of us who lived through that day, the statement makes perfect sense.

Just my $0.03.

Funny Foto #7

2011-09-09T21:48:00.000-04:00

Once again, something from the department of, "Dude, who really cares?" I read this on a bag of onion rings:

"Heat for 10 - 24 minutes?"

Nothing like a little precision.

Music Fest Part 4

2011-09-07T21:38:00.000-04:00

I'll definitely finish the story tonight.

As I mentioned a few posts back, the actual party is Saturday evening. But getting to Saturday evening requires getting through Saturday day. With three kids away from home--and therefore away from all of the their toys--that can be a challenge. We went to the Washington County Fair. $9 a head to get in, including the kids. But at least the fairground is ALL UPHILL! Every way you turn, it's up. It's like an Escher painting. That place could use a funicular. My wife later commented, "You would think they could have found level ground somewhere."

But we persevered.

I think I mentioned that the Saturday evening party starts in the gazebo out back. Of the 150 or so attendees, perhaps 50 bring an instrument of some sort. There are a lot of guitars, of course. But we have mandolins, fiddles, banjos, drums, a bagpipe, and lots of voices. In previous years, a Japanese woman brought her Shamisen. At least I think that's what she played. I googled "Japanese instruments" and found a picture that looks like what I recall seeing. So it really is a musical feast, with various sounds and styles everywhere.

This year, we did something really smart: we hired a babysitter. We didn't foist all three kids off on her. We just used her as a third set of hands to maintain the 1:1 ratio. After all, there are woods all around, a pond, and 30 feet from the inn's front door (admittedly a hike, but doable nonetheless) is a 50 mph highway.

Suffice to say, in previous years it was a little hard to relax and enjoy the party. But this year...

Underscoring just what a good decision we made in hiring the young lady, at one point I was sitting on the gazebo's patio, with my daughter in my lap, talking to my friends Lisa and Denny. (More on Denny later.) I said to them, "This is why we hired a babysitter. I can sit here with her on my lap and talk to you both. I could not sit here with her on my lap, watching one run around, and talk to you both."

Parents of two kids have no idea how good they've got it.

Around 9:00 or 10:00, we got the children up to bed, and then re-joined the party. Or better said, parties. By this time, people have split off. Some are still playing in the gazebo. Others congregate on the stone patio above the gazebo. Still others play on the front porch. I usually camp out on the side with the aforementioned Denny.

Denny is a good cat. He plays a lot of 70s "traditional" acoustic stuff (Eagles, CSN). That's not always my first choices of genres. But I know how the songs go, if not the actual chords. And Denny is a very good guitarist and singer; I truly respect him and enjoy working with him. And, between the two of us, we probably could play every Beatles song. So there's a lot of Fab Four as well.

Denny and I played until around 12:00 or 1:00. Then I went inside to get a glass of water, and wound up staying for an hour, as a few folks were hanging out and playing in the tavern: Billy Idol (again), Cure, Mazzy Star. Now you're talking my music!

So to bed around 2:00, and up at 8:00 or 9:00. Then we had breakfast, checked out, and headed home, stopping at our friends' house in Washington to visit with them and the out-of-towners who had been staying there. We got back on the road around 2:00, and made it to our house by 4:00.

Then unpack, laundry, dinner, bath, bed...in other words, the real world.

Until next year.

Funny Foto #6

2011-09-05T08:13:00.000-04:00

This is one that has always amused me:

Does anyone really need these directions?

And Now For Something Completely Different...

2011-09-01T21:28:00.000-04:00

...well not completely different. But I've been posting this week about our experience at the music weekend at the Century Inn. I had planned on finishing up that joyful sonic tale, but this just in:

I completed Udopia! Really!

In a previous post, I said that I had finished it, but acknowledged that what I meant was that I had managed to join the beginning and the end. The literary golden spike, if you will.

So the past couple of weeks have been an exercise in filling in the gaps, correcting glaring errors, and embellishing. And I have filled, corrected, and embellished to my heart's content.

It's just north of 39,000 words, and covers 81 pages. I have two weeks until it's due in the inbox of the Main Street Rag. I plan to tap my buddy Bill (though he doesn't know it yet), an experienced newspaper man like myself, to proofread and edit.

Two weeks ago, I felt as though I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now I'm out of the tunnel, and chuffing (sorry, I read a lot of Thomas these days) to the station.

Woo-hoo!

Music Fest Part 3

2011-08-30T22:02:00.000-04:00

So to continue, and perhaps wrap up my recap of the musical weekend...

We arrived in Scenery Hill around 9:00 p.m. Our friends graciously helped us get all our stuff in. (For those of you who have never traveled with kids, it's basically one suitcase and about 10 coolers, crates of toys, and other.) We took the kids up to the room, got them a snack, set up their beds, and then headed down to the party. With them.

Within about two minutes I had a glass of Cabernet in one hand, my guitar in the other, and Olivia on my lap. I couldn't help but think of the line from the Reese Witherspoon movie, Sweet Home Alabama: "Look at you, you have a baby... In a bar."

Around 10:30, we got the kids to bed and headed back down. If you're thinking, "What kind of parent would leave their kids in a hotel room," let me point out two things:

1. We had them on monitor, and

2. It's an inn, and the place is about the same size as some of our friends' houses. (In fact, it it basically a big house.)

My personal highlight from the evening...

A lady asked for some Peter, Paul, and Mary. The only tune by them that I know is "Leaving On A Jet Plane" which, of course, was written by John Denver. Standing near me were two 30-ish couples. I didn't hear them say it, but later my wife said she overheard them poo-pooing me for playing John Denver.

After I finished "Jet Plane," I asked them if they wanted to hear something.

"White Wedding" by Billy Idol, said one.

"You got it," I said. I played a little of it, but then jumped into "Dancing With Myself." It's an easier song, so I thought some of my friends could join in.

After that, I asked if they wanted anything else.

"The Smiths," one of the girls said.

I started, "Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before," but again stopped short, and said, "How about 'Girlfriend In A Coma?' "

"That's my favorite!" she gushed.

After I polished off a few more requests, I thought, "So the old guy can rock." And after my wife had told me about their anti-John-Denver comments, I was even more satisfied.

We finished up around 1:00 a.m., and headed to bed.

Perhaps I will finish the story later in a future post.