Baring fangs...
I have turned this crappy string of luck into a deep well of emotional resource material for a storyline I have been developing. I'm broadening my genre writing. Most of the time I craft high fantasy stories. I've decided to dabble into the paranormal.
Oh, not just any paranormal.
A spectrum of it.
Can't tell you anything of course.
It would ruin the surprise.
But just think of it as my way of branching out, while still keeping to my fantasy roots, because in the end isn't paranormal just fantasy anyway, but with a different stereotype? I'm not talking vampiric elves here... I'm talking about zombies and werewolves.
But--thumbs twiddling--which to choose, and why?
This'll be the shortest blog I've written so far because I can't turn away from developing the setting for too long. There's just so much in my head...
I'll keep everyone posted on when the first installment will be released, and where you can pick up a copy, or e-copy... (:
Friday, July 15, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
My boy could win a shatter glass contest with his screech
If you've spent even an hour with us you'll know what I mean when I say JJ can sing.
He can belt out those high notes like Mariah Carey.
He can scream bloody murder better than the bimbo running for her life in a horror flick.
I think we can it and send it to a movie exec as a gag gift, complete with resume and glamour shot. Who knows, right? JJ might get noticed and be on his way to a wonderful career in scream acting.
Did I mention that the other day he screamed so loud my ears were ringing for about a half hour afterward? Yeah, it was that bad. Too bad we weren't cruising through an elven forest. They could have shot him in the dark.
Or better yet, send him to the School for the Gifted where Professor X can help him control his vocal chords, cuz the boy can put Banshee to shame.
Oh, yeah, I'm bragging. Because I can.
When I get around to it, I'll record him, and put it up on the blog. Maybe then, you'll have an appreciation for the absolute ear shattering screech he can produce. Then again, it's probably a precursor to some musical talent.
We have an old guitar lying around the house. First day he found it, he flexed his fingers gently, strumming the guitar with practiced ease. Not plucking at it like he was trying to snap the strings. No. Gentle, dancing, from his fingertips. Everyone who stops by comments. He's only 15 months old. Amazing.
I'm hoping to find him a good music teacher. Hopefully a teacher with ear plugs.
He can belt out those high notes like Mariah Carey.
He can scream bloody murder better than the bimbo running for her life in a horror flick.
I think we can it and send it to a movie exec as a gag gift, complete with resume and glamour shot. Who knows, right? JJ might get noticed and be on his way to a wonderful career in scream acting.
Did I mention that the other day he screamed so loud my ears were ringing for about a half hour afterward? Yeah, it was that bad. Too bad we weren't cruising through an elven forest. They could have shot him in the dark.
Or better yet, send him to the School for the Gifted where Professor X can help him control his vocal chords, cuz the boy can put Banshee to shame.
Oh, yeah, I'm bragging. Because I can.
When I get around to it, I'll record him, and put it up on the blog. Maybe then, you'll have an appreciation for the absolute ear shattering screech he can produce. Then again, it's probably a precursor to some musical talent.
We have an old guitar lying around the house. First day he found it, he flexed his fingers gently, strumming the guitar with practiced ease. Not plucking at it like he was trying to snap the strings. No. Gentle, dancing, from his fingertips. Everyone who stops by comments. He's only 15 months old. Amazing.
I'm hoping to find him a good music teacher. Hopefully a teacher with ear plugs.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
A new beginning and Moby Dick
Feels good to be hitting the keyboard again.
The click, click--
The tap, no wait, erase that--that's what I want! Yeah...
Most nights I'm working on a short story, novella or some form of writing.
Over the last few weeks I've been Facebook chatting with a good friend of mine. He's going through final edits for his sci-fi story. He's almost done. He's got cover art (and a cover design thanks to yours truly), some marketing ideas, and as we were talking about our respective heroes: his in a sci-fi world, and mine in a high fantasy world, we both realized how invaluable this experience has been. I'd say so far, but so far it isn't even close to being far from anything. Really, it's closer to a beginning.
A new beginning.
Oh, there's no cash flow yet. We may never make enough money to sustain rent or mortgage, but we can't say we haven't tried.
Most importantly we're having fun along the way.
In this e-publishing experience we've realized how important writing is to us. How reading... books period are important to us.
Reminds me of a conversation we had a few days ago when he said everyone is so busy trying to write the next big novel that they aren't writing something people want to read.
Might as well have handed out three for one coupons to Hometown Buffet. The next few hours were a blur. We talked about Melville, Dickens, King, and I think somewhere in there Hughes and Asimov and Sagan.
We talked about what is popular. Why it's popular. The changes in the industry. The push for independent artists. The publishing world in general. The economy and how it effects decisions, and then people, which if I remember correctly semi-coloned into Marx.
The road maps that publishers and authors have used for the last few decades are not so reliable anymore. Blame it on e-readers, blame it on book markets, blame it on genres, blame it on whatever you want to blame it on. There is no absolute to this constant disorientation in publishing.
Hours I tell you... just flew by. Not much writing got done, but it felt good that for those hours, huddled over the computer, coffee beside me, the whip-click-whip of the kitchen fan I felt like a university student again arguing virtues.
Someday we'll be adding our stories to the Kindle market. Someday we'll be adding our stories to the market after that. It's best to just keep a weather eye open because we're not just staring down Moby Dick from the bow, harpoon ready, fighting for our souls; we're trying to balance ourselves on swells, at the same time.
The click, click--
The tap, no wait, erase that--that's what I want! Yeah...
Most nights I'm working on a short story, novella or some form of writing.
Over the last few weeks I've been Facebook chatting with a good friend of mine. He's going through final edits for his sci-fi story. He's almost done. He's got cover art (and a cover design thanks to yours truly), some marketing ideas, and as we were talking about our respective heroes: his in a sci-fi world, and mine in a high fantasy world, we both realized how invaluable this experience has been. I'd say so far, but so far it isn't even close to being far from anything. Really, it's closer to a beginning.
A new beginning.
Oh, there's no cash flow yet. We may never make enough money to sustain rent or mortgage, but we can't say we haven't tried.
Most importantly we're having fun along the way.
In this e-publishing experience we've realized how important writing is to us. How reading... books period are important to us.
Reminds me of a conversation we had a few days ago when he said everyone is so busy trying to write the next big novel that they aren't writing something people want to read.
Might as well have handed out three for one coupons to Hometown Buffet. The next few hours were a blur. We talked about Melville, Dickens, King, and I think somewhere in there Hughes and Asimov and Sagan.
We talked about what is popular. Why it's popular. The changes in the industry. The push for independent artists. The publishing world in general. The economy and how it effects decisions, and then people, which if I remember correctly semi-coloned into Marx.
The road maps that publishers and authors have used for the last few decades are not so reliable anymore. Blame it on e-readers, blame it on book markets, blame it on genres, blame it on whatever you want to blame it on. There is no absolute to this constant disorientation in publishing.
Hours I tell you... just flew by. Not much writing got done, but it felt good that for those hours, huddled over the computer, coffee beside me, the whip-click-whip of the kitchen fan I felt like a university student again arguing virtues.
Someday we'll be adding our stories to the Kindle market. Someday we'll be adding our stories to the market after that. It's best to just keep a weather eye open because we're not just staring down Moby Dick from the bow, harpoon ready, fighting for our souls; we're trying to balance ourselves on swells, at the same time.
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