Good lines

Posted on January 6, 2013 by admin

From Rennie Airth’s River of Darkness:

“Increasingly solitary, he saw his life as all that was left to him: a tattered sail that might bear the wind but would bring him to no haven.”

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Should I call Father Karras or Father Moore?

Posted on January 5, 2013 by admin

Continuing the trend of a writer boring the crap out of you by writing about writing, I’ve experienced a rather rare event this week— a dream. Now, yes, like everyone else I dream all the time, quite vividly and in color (although I don’t know if that old wives’ tale holds water anymore), and they’re usually mini-epics. Like last night, when I left the back of my house and began an extraordinary journey across fields and rivers and construction sites, sticking around for a Jamaican yard party at one point, before my brother, 12 years old in the dream, fetched me home. We all have those dreams. But, earlier this week, I woke up from a dream that was a full blown short story, from beginning to end. I sat up, went “Wow,” and immediately ran for the computer and started writing it. It’s almost finished. And it’s a doozy, if I may so humbly say myself.

This has happened to me only one time before, resulting in the story “Cistern,” which you can find in (WARNING!! Crass and shameless product plug follows!) Moonlight, available at your local Amazon stores (click on the link. G’head, g’head!). I thought it was a one-off, but here it happens again. Has it ever happened to you? I don’t mean stories that are based on a dream; there’s lots of those. I mean dreams that are the complete story itself, including the characters and all the events.

And given the nature of Cistern and this almost burnished-to-perfection story, I’m thinking maybe there’s some Prozac in my future. Or an exorcism.

 

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They Just Show Up

Posted on December 30, 2012 by admin

Yeah, I know, writing about writing is probably one of the most boring things a writer can do, but I ran headlong into an odd little phenomenon this morning and wondered what others thought of it: the unplanned character.

This is someone who pops up in the middle of a paragraph, unanticipated, unexpected, but who, at that moment, takes on great weight. In this morning’s case, it was someone named Sawyer, who was born when Aaron, geek protagonist of The Cryman (one of my Opus Incompletus. See Coming Soon), was reflecting on ‘coolness.’ Sawyer, the epitome of all things cool, is suddenly there. And, immediately, I saw how very important Sawyer was to the rest of the story.

Before that moment, I’d never even heard of him.

Yes, I know, there is something slightly psychotic about giving life and breath to people who live inside your head and, yes, practically all writers are just one random thought away from electroshock therapy but, seriously, how does someone just show up like that? And take over? Especially since I’m one of those writers who sees the entire story from beginning to end, so Sawyer shouldn’t be there.

And I’d dismiss the whole thing as a singularity, except it’s happened before—in Frank Vaughn, Mr. and Mrs. Joel; in Partholon, the Ankh; in The Ship to Look for God, Ferdinand (and if I could get an agent to give Frank and Ship [Frankandship, a Mary Shelley creation] more than a dismissive glance, you’d know who those people are. The Ankh, you’ll get to know him soon).

Yeah, I know, seek professional help.

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Xmas got an upgrade

Posted on December 26, 2012 by admin

Just sittin’at home on Christmas Eve plying myself with mutant antihistamines, zinc, and whiskey in a futile effort to stave off a Satanic cold, when, about noon, it started snowing:

 

Nice. Although, Gracie didn’t think much of it:

Merry Christmas!

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Tomb Stories: Archer City Cemetery

Posted on December 22, 2012 by admin

Location: Archer City, TX

Creepiness: 3 stars

Coolness: 4 stars

 

 

 

 

 

The location in Larry McMurtry’s hometown gives this place a greater-than-average coolness factor, and being in the middle of a dead, dreary North Texas landscape makes it fairly creepy. I can imagine what it’s like at night.

 

 

 

 

 

It was about 147 degrees Fahrenheit when I visited, and there were only a few shady spots:

   

I didn’t want anything reaching up and grabbing my feet, so I stayed in the sun.  Here and there, a couple of green spots:

  

Bit odd.

There’s a rather interesting caretaker:

Some kind of demon, I’m pretty sure.

You would expect to find this:

 

But, not this:

Todd Wayne McMurtry, 36 when he died. Man. Too young.

Stories:

Captain Calvert was born during WWI, and died during WW2. Best I can figure out, this is him. He was part of the US 1st Corps on Luzon, RP, and died during the heavy fighting near Carmen and Rosario on Jan 22, 1945. It looks like he’s actually buried in the RP, and this is just a memorial.

It appears one branch of the Duren family no longer exists:

          

These are children, including a set of twins, the stones shattered and forgotten. Sad. There’s a W. W. Duren, possibly the twins’ father, listed as one of the founding members of the Stonewall Jackson Camp, established in 1897 near Archer City, a place where Confederate veterans held reunions and swapped war stories. He would have had a few. W. W. Duren was a member of Company I, 4th Texas Infantry, Hood’s Brigade.   He, also, was the County Clerk, and had an odd little dealing with Samuel Clemens.

Archer City still lays its war dead to rest:

 

A small, stone slab, obviously homemade, set in the ground:

 

And, right next to it,  

So the Dugans, married in 1937, losing a child in 1938, by 1988, had prospered enough to memorialize their lives together.

How things move.

 

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The World Ends Friday. Get in the Mood with Free Moonlight

Posted on December 19, 2012 by admin

Personally, I think the Mayans working on that calendar just knocked off for lunch, but, you never know. So, to prepare yourself, Moonlight is free today and tomorrow. If we’re all still alive on Saturday, then you’ll have to pay.

Go here.

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You’ve got to see this

Posted on December 15, 2012 by admin

This is just too funny for words:

http://www.youtube.com/user/NorthwardAdvance?feature=watch

Why isn’t this on TV?

 

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Indeed, it is

Posted on December 8, 2012 by admin

I got into a tweet with Chris Hill about Christmas decorations, and, well, here’s mine:

 

Take it away, Bart Simpson.

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The Adventures of Gracie the Wander Cat: You scratch my back…

Posted on November 30, 2012 by admin

 

 

 

 

 

Things have been pretty good. That D. Krauss guy’s working out well. Hasn’t missed feeding me yet. We’ve actually got a schedule.

He comes outside about 5:00 am, fools around in the the garden (which has delicious shoots and blooms, yum. He blames Gertrude, the woodchuck living under the deck, ha ha), then goes off on his bicycle. Which is good, The guy could stand to lose a few pounds.

So he’s back about an hour later and gets a cup of coffee and sits on the deck and I jump in his lap and purr and stretch out and let him scratch my chin and I’m just adorable. Which is a Wander Cat’s playing card—be cute, or be hungry. I put up with this for about ten minutes and then bite him to let him know it’s chow time and he gets me wet food mixed with the nibbles, umm umm, and then goes inside and I usually don’t see him again until dinner time. Good arrangement.

So, I figured I’d do him a favor. There’s a family of rabbits living in the front yard. D. Krauss hates the rabbits. He’s always cursing them out and chasing them around and blaming them for the torn up plants (if he only knew) and the torn up yard (Gertrude, again). Now, I’m not a rabbit fan meself, primarily because they’re just stupid. Bad conversationalists. But I can tolerate anybody so I went over to have a talk, you know, lay off the yard, be cool, stay out of the way, like Gertrude does. They just looked at me, chewing cud or whatever rabbits do, which was irritating, so I broke their necks and left them as a warning to the others.

D. Krauss comes diddlybopping around the corner and almost squashes one of the rabbits but jumps back, like a little girl. I was all stretched out, feeling smug.  He looked at me, shook his head, said, “Thanks, Gracie. I think,” then scooped them up with a dustpan and threw them somewhere.

 

And gave me kitty treats that night.

 

 

Well.

Rabbits, it’s so on. 

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Losing cable, redux

Posted on November 30, 2012 by admin

Okay, watch this one first: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeDzHm7ZODc

then watch the one below.

You just gotta.

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