Looking for an agent

Some exciting news to report today.  I just finished my second novel VAMPIRE SAVANT.  And I'm proud to say that I've sent it out (well, at least query letters) to three different agents!  Hopefully I hear back from them in a timely manner.  I celebrated by having a beer and playing a game of Monopoly on the computer (lame, I know).  So wish me luck!

"When fate starts to push you over the edge, you'd best learn how to fly or fall gracefully."

Nuclear Family Holiday Dinner

Here's a skit I wrote back while living in Southern California.  We used to do these short and impromptu theater sketches and this one was for a holiday segment.  It's a little "blue" so if you're easily offended, I'd recommend you stop reading now.  If you're not easily offended, by all means read on.

Like a portrait from a twisted Norman Rockwell painting, a family sits around the dinner table anticipating their annual holiday dinner.  The fine China is set out, goblets made of crystal align the tabletop and the silverware shimmers by the candlelight.  The center piece of the table is a golden-brown turkey, stuffed with bread and spices.  Steam wafts from the cooked bird.  It's a serene picture, classic and expected.

The players in our little story sit around the table in a specific order.  At the head of the table is the father, we'll just call him Dad.  To his right is big brother (Son for our purposes).  Next to him is grandpa (Gramps).  At the other end of the table is the mother (Mom) and to her left is the older sister (Daughter).  There is an empty seat to the left of Dad but we'll get to that seat in a moment.

Mom
Ok.  Does everyone have their drinks?

Son
Yes, Mom.

Daughter
Sure thing.

Dad
Shh.  Shaddup!

Mom
Where's Cody?

Son
He's still in the bathroom.

Mom
Oh, well.  Let's start without him.  I don't want the turkey getting cold.  (To Gramps)  Grandpa, would you like to say grace?

(Gramps says nothing)

Mom
Dad? (She sees that his hands are hidden, they hear a thumping beneath the table) Dad!!!

Son
Aww, Jesus Christ!  Grandpa's whacking off again!

Mom
Dad, stop it!  Stop it!

Gramps
What? Huh? Oh, marmalade...

Daughter
Why is Grandpa such a sicko?

Dad
Would you all shut up? I'm trying to watch the goddamn game!

Mom
Fine.  We'll eat without saying grace and we'll all burn in hell later on.  (Everyone starts eating except for her, she glares at the Dad)  But, you are not watching football at the table, Larry.

Dad
Come on, Francine!  What else am I gonna do? Conversations around here consist of how hot everything is to Grandpa's indiscretions.

Son
Aww, Jesus Christ...Grandpa's doing it again!

Dad
Need I say more?

(Cody, the younger son, walks in and takes his seat.  He is carrying a weird hand puppet that looks like a donkey.)

Cody
Sorry I'm late.

Dad
What is that in your hand?

Cody
What?

Dad
That thing? How many times have I told you not to bring that goddamn puppet to the table?

Mom
Oh, leave him alone.  You know he needs to practice for the Christmas show.

Dad
But not at the goddamn table, Francine!

(Cody pulls out the puppet and moves its mouth)

Dad
Stop mocking me with that thing!

(Cody doesn't stop)

Dad
I swear to Christ, if you don't put that goddamn thing away...

Mom
Cody, put the puppet away and eat your dinner.

(Cody reluctantly puts away the puppet.  He and Dad eat but glare at one another.)

Daughter
Mom, can I go to the movies with Jimbo after dinner?

Son
Movies? Is that what you're calling it now?

Daughter
Shut the fuck up, Steve!

Mom
Lisa!  Don't you use that kind of language at the table!

Daughter
But he started it...

Mom
Well, just ignore him.

Son
You're the whore of Babylon, Lisa!

Daughter
You fucking bastard!

Mom
Lisa!  Stop saying the F word!

Dad
Do you all mind? I'm trying to eat over here.

(Cody pulls out his puppet and starts his ventriloquist act)

Cody
Hi, I'm the foul-mouthed donkey!  Lick my sweaty ball sac, you fucking bastard!

Dad
You little shit!

(Dad leaps up from the table and chases after Cody)

Mom
Stop it!  Both of you!  Just stop it!

(Dad catches Cody and grabs the puppet, he tosses it across the room.  Cody starts crying.)

Dad
Quit your damned bellyaching!  You can have the puppet back after dinner!

Mom
(Screeching)  SIT DOWN!!

(Dad and Cody go quiet.  Cody stops crying and they both sit back down.  There is a long moment of silence with only the occassional "tink" from the silverware striking the plates as everyone attempts to eat again.)

Mom
Is everything hot enough?

Dad
It's fine, Francine.  Everything's just fine.

(Pause, followed by a thumping noise from under the table)

Son
Aww, Jesus Christ...Grandpa's playing with himself again!

END

Happy Holidays

I love having a birthday that falls so close to the holiday season... more presents for me... Whee!  My wife and my family spoiled me rotten this year.  Since we'll have to work on Christmas, my side of the family decided on doing an early Christmas after Thanksgiving.  I somehow managed to get the latest "Legend of Zelda" (listening to the 25th Anniversary CD as we speak) and a Flip HD Camera!  Woohoo!

I've also managed to finish work on the 2nd draft of my 2nd novel, "Vampire Savant".  So that's a major victory, I feel. 

Unfortunately, the holiday has taken an impact on the blog so I'm trying to make up for that. 

Anyway, we received our first snow of the season...sure is nice to see it from behind a window in a semi-warm apartment.

I plan to post some videos with my new camera as soon as I can hook it up into my computer.  So there's a teaser to the few who read this blog...

Farewell for now! 

You're Doing It Wrong

So I was reading this very excellent article in the New York Times (I know, lawdy dah...look at me, I read the NY Times), it was about marathon running specifically on a growing trend of people who run barefooted.  Of course, what really struck me was this ongoing debate that shoes really do nothing for a person (except, you know, hide ugly feet I guess).  Now while I don't completely agree with that statement, I think there might be some merit to going barefooted.  Although I wouldn't recommend trying such a thing in the Midwest this time of year.

Another thing that struck me (I get struck a lot), the author mentioned a type of running from the Tarahumaras Indians known as a "whisper-soft stride".  I know Indian is not politically correct but it's the word the author used so sue me.  Actually, don't do that...sue him instead.  Anyway, it got me to thinking that maybe I've been running (Hahaha...I don't do that much) or walking wrong.  I started thinking how great would it be if I could adopt a "whisper walk" and sneak up on people like a ninja?  My wife thinks I suffer from fallen arches so maybe my new "whisper walk" would fix that too. 

I plan to experiment with this new way of walking.  So don't be surprised when I sneak up on you without making a sound.  I already feel sorry for my mother...she startles easy.

Back to the real point of this blog post, I run into so many occasions of so-called experts and loud-mouthed opinionated types who are always trying to tell us simple folk that the way we do things...well, it just ain't right.  You open the door by turning the knob to the left?  Psh, turn it to the right.  You start brushing your teeth from top to bottom?  Are you crazy...bottom to top, fool!  Don't you get tired of people telling you that "you're doing it wrong"?  I mean, while I enjoyed the article...it just made me sigh in the end.  It's a neat idea but I'm not quite sure it would work for me.  Except for the "whisper walk" technique, now that has merit.

If you'd like to read the article, here's the link:  Running The Right Way  (check out the diagram on the proper way to run)

Escaped Animals Create Pandemonium

I'm sure many of you have already read or seen what happened in Zanesville, Ohio when a reclusive man who owned exotic animals released them and then shot himself.  62-year-old Terry Thompson had 56 animals - among them were Bengal tigers, Mountain lions, Grizzly bears, Monkeys and Leopards.  A wolf or two thrown into the mix as well.  Reports of wild animals on Interstate 70 and warning signs that said "Caution.  Exotic Animals" could be seen on the Ohio roadways.  It's like they unleashed a veritable Noah's Ark upon the populace.

My first thought was what would kids think if they saw their favorite animals on the road like that?  And later find out that police and sheriff's deputies had been forced to shoot these animals?  Can you imagine what they would draw?  I see hundreds of pictures of lions and tigers and bears (oh my) with X's for eyes and tongues lolling out of their gaping mouths.

We made jokes in the office that Ohio should advertise for hunters to come to their state and hunt these animals (for a nominal fee).  Just think...if you ever wanted to hunt a Bengal Tiger?  Well, now's your chance! 

But, all joking aside, it is disturbing that the state of Ohio allowed an unstable man like Thompson to own these animals in the first place.  Hopefully no people are hurt as officials try to track down the last exotic creature, a monkey.  Although I guess the worst thing that could happen, the monkey throws its poo at them.

Here's a link to the CNN article if you want to read more about this story:

http://www.cnn.com/2011/10/19/us/ohio-animals-on-loose/?hpt=us_c1

ATM has a crazy day

The other day I went to the ATM to get some cash coz that’s what you do at an ATM. Well, it asked me if I wanted a receipt and I said “Yes” just because getting a receipt is like getting a prize with your cash. Oh, look! I got an extra piece of paper! Whee!

Anyway, the ATM informs me that it’s out of paper and it says: “It’s been a crazy day. Sorry.” I mean, come on…an ATM does not need personality. The bank tellers have no personality why should the ATM have one? Although if it sounded like Darth Vader: <Heavy Breathing> I am sorry. I am out of paper. Would you care to continue this transaction? </Heavy Breathing> That would be pretty cool.

Evil Bastard

The Good Book says to “Love thy neighbor”, I say “Screw that”

So here’s a little song about not loving your neighbors.

I’m an Evil, Evil Bastard…

I invite myself over for dinner and I drink up all your beer

I use all the toilet paper and I never flush…the toilet.

I let my cat walk all over your nice, clean automobile

My kids leave their dirty diapers by the swimming pool…

I’m an Evil, Evil Bastard…

I play my music really loud, don’t let you sleep at night

I mow my lawn at 2 a.m. because I’m an asshole

I make lewd comments to your teenage daughter...

I call your son a sissy boy and spit on your dog…(Spit)

I’m an Evil, Evil Bastard…

I’m always scratching my crotch in public…cause it itches…

I peek through your window when you’re making love to your beautiful wife…oh, yeah..she’s a hottie

I stand outside in nothing but a pair of dirty drawers

I honk my horn late at night when I’m driving past your house... Just to say “Hello”

I’m an Evil, Evil Bastard…

I’m an Evil, Evil Bastard…

I’m an Evil, Evil Bastard…

I’m an Evil, Evil Bastard…

　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　

Small Talk Can Get You Killed...

How are you? Those can be very dangerous words. "How are you?" said to the wrong person can become a 45-minute conversation. Especially if it’s somebody you kind of know - maybe some one at work who you thought was cool until you caught him whacking off in the men’s bathroom. And one day you make the mistake of asking: “How are you?” and he says: “Well, Bob, my wife left me because she caught me whacking off in the bathroom. See, I have a toilet bowl fetish. I am physically attracted to toilet bowls. They’re so smooth and porcelain-y. And they have water inside. And when you flush them, the water goes round and round…and oh, God, I’m getting hot. I’ll be right back.”

And small talk is another dangerous thing. Because small talk can quickly lead to big talk if you’re not careful. Perhaps you started the conversation off with: “Man, I hate waiting in line.” And the guy you were innocently talking to says: “What gives you the right to talk to me? Can’t you see I’m busy…and slightly unstable. And I have a pistol in my pocket. And now I’m pulling it out and thrusting it in your face…what do you think about that, Mr. I-Hate-To-Wait-In-Line. Huh? Huh?” And you say: “Please, put down the gun. I was just making small talk.” Because small talk can get you killed.

What ever happened to Wilson? (Cast Away Comedy)

After his watery departure from his first and only friend, Chuck Nolan, Wilson the Volleyball began a life of his own.

　

One day I was taking a walk on the beach and I stumbled upon this fellow…

He told me quite a tale. He said that he swam from some island down in the South Pacific. He fought off sharks, whales, mermaids and space aliens. And, his name is Bob Wilson.  Actually, he was never sure about the first name but he liked Bob so it stuck.  After his rescue, Bob went onto an illustrious career as a shoe salesman.  While on the job, he met his future wife, Kate...

They were married a few years later and before they knew it, they had a growing family.  This is Bob’s son, Tony, who loves the St. Louis Cardinals.

And his daughter, Tabitha.  Her favorite athlete is Venus Williams.

Plus we can't forget about the twins, Ping and Pong.  They're adopted.





I asked Bob if he had a message for folks out there, after all surviving out on the ocean like he did must have left an impression on him.  He merely said that he would never want a different life than the one he had and that if anyone finds Chuck Nolan they should tell him to go fuck himself .  

I've been slacking...

I've been slacking on updating my blog but I've been busy writing my next novel.  I'm still shooting for a finish date of October 31st of this year.  Now whether it's polished or not...that is left to be determined.

However, in the meantime, I've received quite a few rejections for my short stories and two for my novel.  Oh well.  One rejection sounded hopeful, they said I could resubmit my book in six months to a year so I guess that's something.

Anyway, I did stumble across a wonderful Internet tool for anyone else trying to get a story/book published.  It's called Duotrope and it provides useful links to publishers, magazines, contests based on what genre of story they are looking for. 

Here's a link: Duotrope

Laters!

What's up with Kool-Aid Man?

So, I recently noticed that Kool-Aid Man has started wearing pants.  That got me to thinking: do we live in such a politically correct society that a talking pitcher of Kool-Aid needs to wear pants?  I mean, what are we afraid we might see?  His ice cubes...

Manhole Covers: A cautionary tale

"Why I Avoid Manhole Covers"

     My wife once asked me why I avoid manhole covers when we went for our daily walks. So, I told her about an incident in high school.

 

     On one particular day, my buddy (we’ll call him Sam) thought it would be fun to leap on the manhole cover that lay nearby. As he jumped on it, the cover flipped up and he landed funny. Immediately, Sam leapt up and grabbed his ”tenderest of tenders”. He was howling and I was laughing with tears in my eyes. When he was able to regain his composure, we continued our walk with Sam moving at a slower speed. The next day at school, Sam was absent. I learned later that he actually cut his tenderest of tenders and was taken to the hospital for stitches.

 

      After I told my wife that tale, she agreed that we should never step on manhole covers.

 

I posted this on a Reader's Digest Facebook contest.  Basically, you have to write a 150 word story about your life (or something in your life).  So feel free to enter one of your own stories (and possibly win $25,000 to boot).  Or, you could vote for mine by going to:  Why I avoid manhole covers

The Trinity turns one month old!

Perhaps not the biggest milestone but a milestone nonetheless.  My first novel is now one month old.  Being a proud parent, I have included acceptable birthday presents:

1.  Diapers (always need these)
2.  Binkies (almost as necessary as diapers)
3.  Toys (not THOSE kinds of toys you perverts...)
4.  Blankets
5.  Clothes
6.  Baby Food
7.  Cash

I have a registry set up for all major retail stores in the country so feel free to pick and choose from the given list or just surprise me!

On a more serious note, if you haven't gotten a chance to read The Trinity...what are you waiting for!?!  It even has it's own website now!

The Trinity Webiste

I've submitted the story to a publisher...but got rejected.  Oh well.  It's a big ocean out there and I've just set my toe into the water (so to speak).

Knuckles Bleeding

I typically don't write poetry but this idea sprang into my mind after seeing a mistake on a computer screen at work.  Of course, after examining this poem further I keep thinking of Sonic The Hedgehog and his pal Knuckles (video game reference for those who don't know what I'm talking about).  This is not about a video game duo.  It's loosely based on a fight I got into back in middle school.  Enjoy!

Knuckles, knuckles bleeding
"You should see the other guy"
A school yard fight turned bloody
A man asks "Are you ok?"

The bullies ran away
When the sedan pulled up
He stood there in a daze
Wondering how this came to be

Walking home with friends
Trumpet case in hand
Three kids yelled at them
"Nerds, dork, fags"

His two friends fled
He stood his ground
The first punch thrown
But he chose to stay

The first kid goes down
From a roundhouse punch
The second makes a retreat
The third grabs a 2x4

Distracted for a moment
He felt a blow to the back
Whirling around
He sees the wooden plank

Using his trumpet case
Like a warrior's shield
He blocks the next blow
As the sedan pulls up

"Hey" the balding man cried
The bullies running away
He stands his ground
Looking around in a daze

"Are you okay?"
He does not respond
Walking down the road
His knuckles bleeding


When In Bruges...

So I figured out that my addiction is writing...especially writing for contests.  Maybe I'm an attention seeker (ok, we all know that's true).  Anyway, I guess I could have worst addictions...like crack or stealing cars or underwater basket weaving.  Here's my latest entry for a writing contest.  Basically, they gave you this picture to look at and you have to write a story based on the picture.  Enjoy!

When In Bruges

A Short Story

"Come to Bruges..." she wrote to me via instant messenger. We'd been writing to one another as online pen pals for months now. Her name was Varese and she was the most enchanting woman I'd ever met...on the Internet. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that line, "Come to Bruges". It was her home in Belgium. I'd constantly told her how I desperately wanted to get away from the little town in Iowa that I currently called home. With the summer heat brutalizing anyone who dared step outside, I gave her request some serious thought.

She told me that the temperature in Bruges averaged around 70 degrees Fahrenheit during the summer months. We were stewing in our own juices here in Iowa dealing with 90s and high humidity. She always bragged about the wondrous architecture that she promised to show me. We'd spend hours chatting about the spiraling BelfortTower that loomed over the city like a silent sentinel. She threatened to make me take a boat trip along the DijverCanal (even though I'm deathly afraid of water). Varese teased me about going to St. Salvator Cathedral especially after I mentioned my agnostic tendencies. But, she absolutely promised me she would take me to the Grote Market and buy me anything I wanted to drink or eat.

And, yet, even after all the banter and laughing I still could not convince myself to commit. I ended our correspondence with a simple, "We'll see." And we said our goodbyes before logging off for the evening.

As I stepped into the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of my tired complexion in the mirror. Dark bags hung beneath my azure eyes. All the ladies admired my eyes (at least that's what my mother told me as a young boy). Even now, years later, I had to admit that my most striking feature was indeed my eyes. I guess I was kind of a handsome guy, maybe the years hadn't been the kindest to me but I thought I was doing "alright".

After my evening ritual, I made my way to the bedroom. Lying down, I stared up at the white ceiling fan circling overhead. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the blackness, the fan almost looked like sea gulls flying overhead. However, instead of gull cries, I heard a loud terrible cough from the other side of the bed.

"Ben?" My wife asked and I rolled over onto my side.

"Yes, dearheart. It's me." She reached up with an awkward hand until she found my chin and then our lips met briefly. I could feel an unnatural heat wafting from her body. She radiated heat like a human furnace and I knew it was her sickness that caused it. The doctors said it would eventually take her life.

"Goodnight, Ben." She whispered as she tried to fight off another coughing fit.

"Goodnight, Sara." I said and rolled over so that my back was facing her. She was the love of my life and I knew I was betraying her by talking with Varese even if it was only over the Internet.

The following evening, after I fed Sara and got her ready for bed, I reluctantly made my way to the study. I turned on my computer and listened to the familiar jingle of Microsoft Windows starting up. In moments, my instant messenger window popped up and I smiled when I saw that Varese was waiting for me.

"Hello, there." I typed and waited for her response.

"Hiya." She eventually greeted and immediately she regaled me with her day. I knew a lot about Varese. She worked as a secretary for a dentist in town. She said his name was Dr. Vogel which meant "bird" in Dutch. She described him as a bird of a man with a beak nose and beady eyes.

She made me laugh and her English was surprisingly good. I once asked her about it and she grew uncharacteristically quiet. I was about to apologize when she responded with, "My ex-husband was a Language Instructor at the University." He specialized in English and insisted that she become fluent before they married.

"Ben?" My wife called from the other room, she sounded scared and in pain.

"I have to go." I quickly typed to Varese and immediately fled from my chair. I rushed down the hall and when I entered the bedroom, I found her dangling from the bed.

"Oh god, Sara." I muttered as I bent down to help her up.

"I'm so tired of lying here. I'm just so tired of it all." She whimpered and I could not fight back the tears that escaped down my cheeks.

"You're fine now. You're just fine." I said, trying to hide the tears from her.

"Don't cry, Ben. You know it's natural. The doctors said it would happen this way." She tried to soothe me as she gripped my hand within her own. Her skin looked as white and thin as paper. I could see the blue veins beneath and seeing her like this made me want to scream to the heavens. I just wanted to yell at God and denounce him for destroying such a wonderful creature like my Sara.

#

"You'll move on after I go, won't you?" Sara once asked me after she was first diagnosed. I looked at her with a furrowed brow.

"I'll never move on. You're my girl. There can be no other." I said and she took my hand, bringing it toward her face. She rested my palm against her smooth cheek and held it there for a moment.

"I've been lucky, you know that?" She queried and I just looked at her sadly. "I found true love. Not many people can say that, you know? I've lived a good life and I want you to continue living yours."

"Let's not talk about this..." I tried to interject but Sara wouldn't have it. She removed my hand and glared at me with her intense emerald eyes. I could tell that she was in a mood; her father said her temper was matched only by her fiery red hair.

"Promise me, Benjamin! Promise me you'll move on. You'll love again..."

"I...I can't make that promise." I whimpered but deep down I knew that that moment was what led me to find Varese. I knew in my heart that Sara was letting me go and that thought hurt the most.

#

Sara died three months later in November. Her funeral was very nice but I felt like a walking automaton. People gave me their condolences and I spat out some acceptable rhetoric. The only person that seemed to make even a momentary impact was Sara's father. He hugged me (and that man never hugged anyone in his life) and I couldn't hold back the tears. I let them fall and I'd be damned if I cared if anyone saw me.

After that, the days and nights seemed to blend together and I just couldn’t bring myself to talk to Varese. It must have been a month before I found myself sitting at my desk again. I turned on the computer and stared blankly at the screen. I don't know how long I sat there but soon I heard a familiar beep and a message popped up.

"Hello stranger." She wrote and I couldn't help but smile. That night something came over me and instead of letting Varese write me a novel about her day, I wrote her a tome about what I'd been going through. I told her everything and at the end I felt cleansed. I felt renewed and I was positive that Varese would want nothing to do with me. Instead, she asked me about Sara. She asked me how we first met, where we got married and then she asked me about my happiest moment with her. It was therapeutic and by the end of the night I jokingly offered to pay her for the therapy session.

Before we parted for the evening, I tentatively wrote to her: "So I've been thinking about taking a trip..." Varese took the bait. "Bruges is lovely this time of year." I couldn't help but laugh and this time I told her I was really considering booking that flight. She urged me to do so and then tell her when I would be arriving.

A week later, I came home from work to find a package waiting on my front step. To my surprise, it had been sent from Belgium. When I opened the package, I found a hideous orange overcoat inside.

It was the color of a traffic cone and it went down almost to my knees. As I stood wearing the ridiculous thing, I found a note shoved into the pocket. When I unfolded the note, I did not recognize the penmanship but it seemed distinctively feminine.

"Ben, this is for when you come to visit me. Wear this and go to the Grote Market. Look for the building with the two candles that look like eyes shining in the windows. I'll find you there."

After some serious soul searching, I got on a plane and I’ll never forget when I saw the European countryside from on high. It felt like I belonged here, almost like dèjá vu. From the airport in Bruges, I took a taxi downtown and using a Dutch-English dictionary I was able to tell the driver where I needed to go.

When he dropped me off, I thought I was standing on a movie set. The buildings in the background looked fake with their false fronts and the lights seemed a little too bright for my taste. Throngs of people walked around the market, couples holding hands while parents tried to keep their children in check. I sauntered along, my eyes focused on the windows as I searched for two candles. Two candles that looked like eyes.

My breath wafted out before me like a cloud as I worked my way through the crowd. I kept glancing up toward the skyline and saw dozens of windows with lights and candles shimmering from within. I started to give up hope until I spotted one restaurant that looked like a wooden face staring back at me with two candles for eyes.

"Stella Artois..." I read from the top of the triangular building. I recalled drinking a strong beer by that name once upon a time.

When I turned, I scanned the crowd for a familiar face. Even though I had never seen Varese, I thought I might get a sense of her. I think it was the hopeless romantic in me who believed that. And just as I was about to give up and go into the restaurant, I felt someone tug on my coat.

As I looked around, I came face to face with a short woman with mousy brown hair. She blinked at me with her hazel eyes and I saw a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her pink nose. She smiled at me and for the second time in my life I think I felt love at first sight.

"Benjamin?" She asked with just a trace of a Dutch accent.

"Varese." I replied and she smiled revealing dazzling perfect teeth that could only belong to someone who worked in a dentist’s office.

"How'd you know it was me?" I asked and she laughed as she wrapped her arm around mine.

"You stick out like a sore thumb in that awful orange coat." I laughed at that as we stood in the cold staring at one another.

“Come on." She said. "I promised you food and drink and I mean to keep that promise.”

We turned to step into the restaurant and for a brief moment I thought I could hear Sara whispering to me, telling me she approved and that someday we would see each other again…

My novel is finished!!!!

After years of working on this monster, I finally completed my first novel.  It's called "The Trinity" and it's a whopping 406 pages long.  I've put it up on Author Stand and you can find it at this link:  The Trinity.  Here's the temporary cover art I'm using (with help from my lovely wife).

The book is now available on Amazon's Kindle site and Barnes & Noble's Nook website.  Links are on the left side of the blog under "Stories Available Online". 

Unfortunately, this is not a free book but I kept the price to a minimum.  Although I'm sure if friends and family want to read it for free...I could make an exception. 

Otherwise, it's been a pretty good weekend.  It's been terribly hot and humid here in Northern Iowa.  I had a "what would you do for a Klondike bar" moment today.  The wife needed to buy some lingerie (and needed to try some bras on in the dressing room) so I was forced to stand by myself in Victoria's Secret while middle aged women glared at me like I was some kind of pervert.  So she had to endure a full twenty minutes at Game Stop while I looked for cheap video games that I could afford (I bought White Knight Chronicles and two other cheap ones).  But then we both went and splurged and bought some Magnum Ice Cream bars.  All I gotta say is:  Yum!!!!

Anyway, I plan to start working on my next project soon but I'm also taking some time to catch up on some leisurely reading and video game playing.

Laters!

Happy Independence Day

On this Fourth of July, I have found a new love.  It's called Bud Light Lime and it's my new crack.  Seriously, I can't stop drinking the stuff.  Just ask my wife.  I know that's not very patriotic (well, in a way it is since it's an American brand...err, wait doesn't Budweiser outsource their company?).  Well, regardless, I love the suds with a little lime flavoring.  I also enjoy blowing stuff up so that's pretty American!

If you're feeling patriotic, read this story:  Private Jung

Light At The End

So, I've begun the final revisions of my novel.  I have to admit they're going very well.  It's kinda scary how well it's going.  I mean, it's only scary because I'm afraid I'm going to come across some major error that I simply cannot fix.  Maybe that's a bit extreme but it's my fear nonetheless. 

Or maybe it's karma that things are going well...

I've recently hit some big road bumps in my aspirations to becoming a working writer.  Three rejection letters from three different magazines.  I didn't even get an honorable mention in the short story contest I entered (a subject that is still a little sore for me...I must admit).  But, I'm still waiting on news from two other writing contests and a multitude of other 'zines so keep your fingers crossed!

Otherwise, I think things are going fairly well.  I'm not giving up...that's for damn sure.

Here's some pictures I've drawn from my story, not sure if I'll include them in the novel but I think they're "alright". 

Oh, I also saw something very funny on Tosh.o tonight.  Here's the link and I'll just tell you that I knew this guy (briefly) from when I worked at the NBC station in Medford.  He's a good reporter (and, apparently) a good sport too.

Reporter Can't Break Car Window

Letter from a "vampire"

    While some may argue that the vampire does not exist (and rightly so), there are some hints that they could be real.  Here is a letter sent to a Washington newspaper a few months ago.  This is certainly not indisputable proof of the vampire but it does shed some light on the current fixation of their kind.  It's apparently written to the author of the Twilight series, Stephenie Meyer.  Read and see what you think:

            Dear Stephenie,

            I hope this letter finds you in good health and happy spirits.  I'm sure you get correspondences like these all the time so if you're reading this then I've succeeded to catch your eye.  Your Twilight novels certainly caught the eye of young readers (and lonely women) the worldwide.  I've read all four of the books (even the novella about Bree Tanner).  I do admit that you have a flair for the written word and try as I might I could not put down the novels.  But, please realize that this letter is not intended to be complimentary.

            You see, the world you've created besmirches the reputation of the vampire.  Long ago, we were feared creatures.  Peasants would perform the most outlandish rituals to ward off our kind.  They'd take a pure white horse and run it around a graveyard in an attempt to locate our coffins (which is laughable because any self-respecting vampire would never sleep beneath the ground).  They thought that a wooden stake through the heart would end our immortal existence.  Crosses, garlic, mirrors and holy water were also weapons of choice by the simpletons.

            Once in a while, they'd get something right such as our fascination with patterns and puzzles.  Our obsession with cleanliness is another facet of that fascination.  Sunlight is no friend to my kind either.  But, it would take a lethal dose to put down one of my kind. 

            I'm sure you've noticed that when I refer to vampires I say "we" and not "them".  That's because I am a vampire.  A very proud and old vampire who typically has a discerning taste when it comes to literature.  Please understand I mean no ill will towards you, I'm just trying to state my case here.

            Back to your work, I'm sure when you wrote the Twilight saga you never intended to make life difficult for my kind.  I imagine you were attracted to the dark nature of the vampire and saw the tragically romantic side of the undead.  If you had just written the stories and left them as that, I don't think I'd be writing this letter to you.  But, Hollywood had to make your stories into an international phenomenon.

            I will admit that even the movies are entertaining.  Although I preferred Kristen Stewart when she was a little boy in that Jodi Foster movie.  Panic Room I believe it was called.  Anyway, with the appending release of Breaking Dawn I felt compelled to write this letter because, let's face it, the movies based on your books ruined everything for us.

            If you're still reading, you probably wonder what I'm hinting at.  I'll get to the point.  Let me put this into terms that a human would understand.  Are you familiar with how veal is prepared?  You see, a calf is kept boxed up so that its meat stays tender and unused.  It may sound cruel but it's considered a delicacy among your kind. 

            The same can be said for blood.  We vampires are connoisseurs of the vital life fluid that allows us to survive the Undeath.  You may not realize it but blood has its own flavor.  Different regions, ethnicities, age and even sex affects the taste of the blood.  It's true...and for the longest time we had a smorgasbord on hand.

            But then you wrote your books...and the flavor changed.  At first, we couldn't put a finger on it.  The blood just seemed different.  A bit bland might be the way to put it best.  After some extensive research, we came to a conclusion.

            My brethren have always had a theory that the major ingredient of truly excellent blood was emotion.  Lust, cowardice, joy, anger...all of these influenced the flavor.  Although I wouldn't say that those emotions made the best tasting blood.  No, the truly delicious vintage was brewed with unadulterated fear.  That's right.  Fear makes the blood taste so ever sweet.  My mouth is watering just thinking about such a draught.

            However, after Twilight and the subsequent stories, the blood lost its luster.  You single-handedly ruined the "crop" if you will.  You made these young people (and lonely women) romanticize the vampire.  No longer could we sweep into a room and listen to the musical screams of our intended victims.  Now they practically embrace us (not to mention attempted sexual assault at times). 

            The blood tastes like a microwave dinner.  It tastes like cabbage soup with no salt.  I mean, a vampire can live on it but what's the point? I'm sure you've tasted a succulent steak and marveled at the flavor and the texture of the meat.  Once you've tasted ambrosia, it's impossible to go back to simple bread and water.  Am I right?  Do you see where I'm coming from now?

            Anyway, I do apologize for the rambling nature of this letter.  I tend to let myself wander both in conversation and apparently with pen and paper.  Here's what I'm asking on behalf of all of my kind...please stop writing.  I think you've made enough money to easily retire to a remote area of the world (perhaps Forks, Washington).  Or, if you simply must continue, put the fear of vampires back into your readers. 

            Show us for what we really are...predators.  We are the lioness and you are the gazelle.  Our savannah is the city streets and the rural villages of the world.  We hide in the shadows waiting for one of you to pass by.  We set snares as elaborate as any clever spider.  Fear is our cloak and it is most definitely the spice of our preferred food.

            With that in mind, I hope you make an educated choice while considering the future of your writing career.  Remember your pen impacts whether we eat bologna on plain white bread or filet mignon with a nice cognac.  Which would you choose to eat?  I think the answer is obvious. 

            Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

Adamere Thorne

Funny postcard

Man, it's been a rough week.  I swear I wasn't meant for the workforce.  I wish my writing career would grow wings and start taking flight.  Anyway, here's a funny postcard that a friend sent to me a while back.

On the reverse side, it reads:  Breaking Bad News with Baby Animals.

I laughed my butt off when I got this postcard from my buddy.  There's a story behind it but I won't bore you with the details.  I hope everyone else is having a better week than me.  I know it'll get better but it's tough waiting sometimes.

Ciao!

The Sword Mistress

So summer is upon us and (of course) the damn air conditioner has to start acting up.  But, while I'm sitting here stewing in my own juices (Eww), I discovered something awesome!

Author Stand has another writing contest!  This time it's for a novella, which is a story between 10,000 and 40,000 words.  I wrote The Sword Mistress back in college and it's kind of a prequel to my novel.  I figured what the heck and entered it.  Next month, I plan to enter my novel as well.  Exciting stuff! 

Here's the cover art I'm going to use:

My logo

I posted this once but then changed my mind (because I'm apt to do that).  Now, I'm posting it again.  I think that when (or if) I have my own company, then the picture below will be my icon.

This is Undead Cat.  He's a cat...recently risen from the grave.  I guess he probably likes to eat brains...I mean, what self-respecting zombie doesn't?  Anyway, I put this together using Microsoft Paint (the poor man's version of Adobe Illustrator). 

Oh and...MEOW!!!

Memorial Weekend

The wife and I spent Memorial Weekend with some friends in Minnesota.  It was a nice vacation and not too far from home.  The husband of the couple we visited is in the National Guard.  He is going on his third tour of duty so it was kind of a bittersweet weekend for their family.  It was an honor to be part of the festivities before sending him off.  We had a great time but a word of advice...stay away from Captain Morgan's Long Island Ice Tea mix in a bottle.  It made me quite ill. 

Monsters In The Closet

Short Story Contest Judging

The short story contest I entered on Author Stand is now in the judging phase.  You can help me win by going to Blood Donor and rating/reviewing my story. 

You do have to sign up for a free account but it's quick and easy.

Thanks!

Help me pick my cover art

So in preparation for July 31st (the novel contest I'm entering), I'm trying to come up with some cover art for my book "The Trinity".  I'll post a picture from time to time and I'm looking for some feedback.  So here's the first cover image:

And here's an inverted copy of the same picture:

Thoughts?  Critiques?  Offers to make cover art for me in return for eternal gratitude?  Or, maybe a nice credit on the book cover and insert?  Perhaps a life of wealth and luxury (down the road)...

New addiction

I found this wonderful message board dedicated to fledgling writers.  I've posted a few things and received some positive feedback.  It's called The Writer's Beat and I posted my first chapter of my novel on the site.  Unfortunately, it can only be viewed by member's to protect my first rights to the story so you'd have to sign up for a free membership to read it.

I also looked into the creative writing class but I think it's a bit out of my price range.  A little disappointing but I have to be practical.  I wish I had the money to throw at my writing career so I could just publish my own stuff.  I actually looked into that too and there is a company who will do that very thing but their starting price is about $500.  Ouch.

I choose expensive hobbies...

Ciao!

Portal

I just beat the game "Portal" for like the third or fourth time tonight.  Well, not tonight but in my overall gaming career.  If you've never played it, you should try it.  The main enemy is a computer named Glados.  She's quite a character and has a very sadistic sense of humor.  The sequel is coming out next Tuesday but I think I'll have to wait for my birthday or Christmas to get it.  All I have to say is:  "the cake is a lie!"

Warning: Nerdy Video Ahead

On the writing front, I'm juggling two projects right now.  I recently picked up writing an older story called "Vampire Savant".  I'm making some headway with that.  I'm also considering enrolling in a Creative Writing class at the local community college.  I really need some feedback on my stories and I figured who better than a class full of writers and a professor?  I wonder if I can convince them to help me edit my first novel "The Trinity"?  I'll offer them cake and see what happens.

Later gators!

Storms and Taxes

Well, we got to experience our first tornado warnings of the season here in Mason City.  Pretty exciting stuff.  Fortunately, things calmed down real quick but it was pretty touch and go there for a bit.

We finished our taxes this weekend and it only looks like we owe a little bit to the state government this year.  Although it was the first time we did E-file and apparently we didn't fill out everything correctly at first.  But they let us know and we have since then fixed the problem.  We'll be seeing some money back from the Federal Government so that'll be nice. 

On the writing front, I'm avidly working away at my second novel.  In the meantime, I'm still editing my first novel to submit it to a writing contest in July.  I need some cover art for it so I'm racking my brain on what I should do for that.  I wish I had Adobe Photo Shop or Illustrator.

Otherwise, it's the same old, same old.  Oh and here's a picture from my wife.  She's got a thing for Water Towers so I thought this would be nice to share.  We don't have any pictures from the storm thus far but I'm sure we'll have plenty later on. 

My niece, the writer

So after a very fulfilling day of writing, I just finished Chapter One of my new novel "The Wizard Next Door".  I thought I'd reward myself by reading some of my niece's works.  She wrote a story with a little different spin entitled "The True Story of Little Red Riding Hood".  It's up on Teen Ink for anyone to read.  I got a kick out of the tale and I'm especially proud to see such raw talent.  I hope to see more from her.  Anyway, here's the link to her stuff if any of you haven't read it already:

Brooke's Teen Ink

Four pages a day

I recently read Stephen King's "On Writing" and I think that book singlehandedly pushed me to become a practicing writer.  One of his "assignments" is to write two thousand words a day (or roughly four pages typed, single-spaced).   So I have a ton of writing and some of it is good (some of it is not so good).  I've tried to keep at that pace every day (taking only Fridays and Saturdays off to spend time with my wife). 

I'm hoping that eventually it won't feel like such a chore and turn into more of a delight.  Don't get me wrong there are days that the words just come flowing out of my finger tips.  And then there's days that it's like drawing blood from a stone. 

Anyway, if you ever get a chance, pick up that book and give it a read.  It's a page turner.

Stephen King "On Writing"  

Novel Contest

So we're back from our trip to North Platte.  It was nice to see everyone and neither of us wanted to leave.  I wish the technology existed for teleporters like in Star Trek...I'd be eating dinner with my family every night!

Writing update:  I reposted "Blood Donor" on all websites after my wife did some proofreading.  So if it's not available, you'll know why.  Give it a day or two and it should be back up. 

Big news is that Author Stand is having a novel contest.  I just happen to have written a novel.  Hmm.  Coincidence?  Me thinks so.  Anyway, I'm planning on entering that soon.  The deadline is July 31st.  Wish me luck!

It feels like I'm pulling teeth...

I started working on a new novel tonight but it's based on an older idea.  It felt like I was pulling teeth just to get a few pages done.  I find that sometimes the simplest words escape my vocabulary when I'm working.  Maybe I'm trying too hard or maybe there's just a lot on my mind.

The wife is sick and not happy about it.  Not that I blame her.  It's only fun to be sick when there's someone who can wait on you and cater to your every needs.  Don't get me wrong I'd totally do that but this silly thing called "work" takes up most of my time. 

We're going to Nebraska tomorrow to help move the grandparents into a retirement home.  So that's been on my mind quite a bit.  It will be nice to see everyone but it's certainly not a vacation.  Oh well.  It feels good just writing this out here. 

Anyway, I like to include some of Kay's pictures and here's one that also relaxes me (and reminds me of the planet Endor from Star Wars).

Actually, now that I look at it, I think of that cheesy horror TV show "Tales From The Darkside".  Creepy.

Later gators!

Blood Donor on Barnes and Noble

After some back and forth with Barnes and Noble, I finally have Blood Donor up on their website.  Feels like an empty victory though since I haven't found any readers yet.  It's like doing a play in an empty house.  I can almost hear my echo...

Blood Donor (B&N)

Peculiar

My niece Brooke clued me into this other website where you can post your books and what not.  So I dug up an old short story of mine and put it on there.  I also entered Blood Donor into their short story contest.  Here's the link to the other short story Peculiar.

You'll have to read the story to figure out what this image is all about. 

Adios!

Blood Donor on Amazon!

It's cause for celebration!  My first short story just went live on Amazon.  Now I'm just waiting for Barnes and Noble to process it too.  It's a minor victory but it feels like a major one to me.

Blood Donor (Amazon)

 

Update:  I figured out a better way to do cover art.  My wife loves to take pictures so I'll use some of her photos to illustrate my stories.  I think this one is suitably creepy for Blood Donor.  I wonder if anyone will recognize where it came from...
Later gators!

Greetings and salutations!

After talking to my buddy, Bill, he thought it would be a good idea to blog about my current writing projects.  Creative Imagination Endeavors is what I like to call them.  Although if I changed Endeavors to Adventures, I'd have CIA.  But who needs them around anyway?

Let's see, I suppose I should mention a little bit about myself.  I have a degree in Theater Arts (although I no longer participate in that craft).  My day job I work for a television station gathering stories for others to report on and write about.  I'm happily married to my best friend and the love of my life.  I suppose that makes me one lucky bastard.  I'm slightly overweight but I plan on doing something about it...what that plan is I have yet to determine.  I'm from Nebraska but don't hold that against me.  I've traveled all across the continental United States and lived in California, Oregon, Montana and New York state just to name a few.

I'm rather eclectic when it comes to writing.  I enjoy horror, fantasy fiction, science fiction and any other genre that strikes my fancy.  Vampires still scare the crap out of me.  Poop jokes make me laugh.  I like both Star Wars and Star Trek. 

So there you have it.  A little bit about me.  I just like to write and I like to read.  I'm hoping to find others who enjoy reading what I write.  Please check back from time to time for updates.

Ciao!