the good and the bad (and the cool)

THE GOOD:
-great weekend... tons of things got done

-I GOT ANOTHER STORY ACCEPTED FOR PUBLICATION. "The Nature of My Game" is one of my shortest stories, coming in at only 1,000 words, but also one of my favorites. It is perhaps a tad heavy handed, a leetle overtly symbolic, I still love the beat to it, love the ending: it was a lot of fun to finish. I wrote it several years ago, but re-wrote and heavily edited it listening continuously to one of my favorite Rolling Stones songs, a lyric from which the title of story comes from. The magazine to finally accept the piece (I had numerous rejection letters on this story saying, with editors saying they really like it but it was not for them) is called Ghostlight Magazine, a quarterly put out by the Great Lakes Horror Writers association. Such good news!

THE BAD:
-I haven't written anything this week. I feel like such a fucking slacker.

-Work has been the pits and the shits. Just this week. Not because of anything I've done... Its just been super fucking busy, and people are losing their minds with all the projects that are careening back and forth. Can't wait for another two weeks to pass. I desperately want to take a week's vacation. Not 'til after Thanksgiving though.

THE COOL:
Check out some of the artwork I've been in charge of directin/creating at work, with a really talented artist Rich Lo:

I laughed for about a minute straight...

Simply awesome.

Quick Update

I have a new phone. (T-Mobile Wing, given to me as a gift)

I have taken pictures with my phone, of my apartment, which I enjoy very much:















I have Twitter. I enjoy it very much.

I have a raise. Not much, but enough to order out every once in awhile and not feel guilty.

I am desperately out of shape. Seriously, I had trouble running my favorite two mile lake route.

I haven't written anything for my book in two weeks.

I paid off a credit card. (in large part due to working part time for my friends at Shutterbooth Chicago)

I have had several very nice personal rejections letters for stories recently, all of which tell me how my story was great and almost made it in. I find these maddening since I'm simultaneous grateful for the praise but frustrated that some of my stories are still unpublished.

I am hungry. Time to order out. Hello Cozy Noodle!!!

Story

Some days its easy, other days it isn't.

Some days its something I'm always meaning to get to, but it keeps eluding me, obscured by life's meaningless repetitive chores.

Other days I hide from it and try not to think about it, to forget it exists.

But it's always there in the back of my mind. It always finds me.

And then...

Then there are the days when it feels like a wife, a lover, a friend. It sounds like the best song I've ever heard or tastes like the best food I've ever eaten.

I realize as I write this that my ramble could just as easily refer to life in general as it does its titular subject. How amazing. How lovely and simple.

Life should be a story.

blue sky over a blue lake

I woke up this morning after a very late, and very fun night with friends. Though still quite tired, I knew that it was past 11am and if I didn't want to waste the day or destroy my sleep schedule, it was time to emerge from my cocoon of soft sheets and warm comforters, open the door from my cavernous and pitch-black room, and start the day.

I stumbled into the kitchen, poured the rest of yesterday's coffee into a cup and heated the mug in the microwave. While the coffee was re-heating, I cracked open two eggs into a bowl, dashed some salt and pepper in, poured in two "gloops" of milk, whisked, and poured the mixture onto a pan to begin making some scrambled eggs. While the eggs cooked to a fluffy white, I toasted a slice of bread, spread Choco-spread on the toast, pulled my coffee out of the microwave and poured in decent helpings of milk and sugar, changing the blackish mixture within the cup into something creamy and brown.

Once my breakfast was ready, I took the book that I'd been reading, set it out on the table on the patio, set out a hand-woven placemat from Nicaragua that was a gift from a friend on the table, and laid out my breakfast.

There was a brisk wind off Lake Michigan and the sun shone merrily in the sky, transforming the water into a sea of sapphires and diamonds. I sat with book in one hand, fork in the other, enjoying myself by combining my two favorite activities: reading and eating. Without knowing why, I stopped for a moment. I looked around, felt the warm sun on my face, the cool breeze caressing my skin.

Simply put, it was absolutely beautiful. The breakfast, the book, the coffee, the patio, the sun and the wind. The bright sky, confectionary clouds, the azure water. I sat for a minute, taking it all in, as I have before and will again.

And I realized one simple thing: despite the tiredness of the morning, the mild hangover, the stress at work, the frustrations with writing a book, despite all the turmoils of growing up, letting go and saying goodbye: I am happy.

To realize one's happiness is a simple but joyous thing. And while I have yet to achieve all the goals I have set forth in my life, I realize that, for the most part, I have made a good beginning.

Not my bitch, nor yours

George R.R. Martin is one of my favorite authors. His epic fantasy series A Song of Ice and Fire is one of the most amazing things I've ever read. (and re-read, several times) Here's a good synopsis of it from one of its best fansites around, westeros.org:

Imagine a feudal kingdom on a massive continent in a world filled with many cultures and half-legendary lands and an ancient history. Imagine a time where dragons once lived but magic is now dwindling, yet the seasons can be long or short, bringing glorious summers or terrible winters that last years at a time. Imagine a massive iron throne from which seven kingdoms are ruled, with false knights and true all gathered about it in hopes of blood or glory or profit, and shadows behind it pushing the pieces that make up the game of thrones.

It is as of now, unfinished. Currently, Mr. Martin is working on book five of seven, titled A Dance with Dragons. This volume has taken longer than he initially expected, causing a very small, but somewhat trollish, whiny, and wah-entitlement-me-now! cadre of fans to actively and quite rudely complain on his website and in other chatrooms.

They are, quite simply, douchebags.

One of said d-bags actually wrote to Neil Gaiman (another favorite author of mine) asking if he had a right to feel entitled to have Mr. Martin finish the series. To which Neil simply replied in his very famous blog "George Martin is not your bitch." (read the awesome post here)

The quote "George Martin is not your bitch" has since grown to become somewhat of a meme against these trolls. Which leads me to the original reason I had for posting this blog entry, one of the funniest songs I've heard in a while:

Sci Fi Songs: Sci-Fi Song #20: George R.R. Martin is Not Your Bitch

The song is funny, true, and quite catchy. Well played Mr. John Anealio!

writing a book rant

Goddam you Chapter 2. Every other chapter does what its supposed to. Only you, you bloody cheeky monkey, you convoluted mish-mash of POV shifts, scene changes, and flash-backs, continue to vex me. One day, you will pay for your insolence. This I do so swear.

Fuck you, Chapter 2. Seriously. Do not make me resort to Extreme Measures. I'm not afraid to take Arthur Quilling Crouch's advice and Kill My Darlings.

You best get in line.

/takes deep breath

Okay, done now. :)