Tag Archives: young adult

But we’re not those kinds of people are we?

Finished those two short story revisions and started submitting them today. The YA market is a bit edgy and controversial so I’m hoping the story will fit well there.

Of course the mystery crime markets are so fucking slim for the second story. I just subbed it to Hitchcock. Acceptance there is as slim as the pickings but I’ll give it 4 months and then sub someplace else.

That sci-fi/ya story I was on the fence about last week I started on Saturday. Doing 2 finished pages a day with screaming kids and wife around (he he), I managed to get over 2k words (11 pages) as of this morning. Looks good. Any doubts of repeating myself are not there. Stupid me, right? I’m liking it. Feels different from anything I did before. Think I’ll be done with it by the end of the week, hoping.

Son had his dental operation on Friday. The brave little booger had three teeth pulled, not two. The third was just a loose baby tooth that was hanging out and the dentist said, “What the fuck. We might as well take this one too.”

The insurance worked out. We only had to pay for the anesthesia. Considering the whole bill would have been almost 2k I’m not complaining. Plus, how can you let a child be awake for a thing like that. I had one tooth pulled and those needles were a nightmare.

Son had no pain when he came home and all through the weekend. With any luck he’ll have no more broken fillings with cracked teeth. But we’re not those kinds of people are we?

Anyway, I forgot Stainboy last time. Here is epi five:

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a not so distant future where one struggles for gasoline

Finished Kharma Part 12 revisions.

Working on two short story revisions this week (MiLK and White Elephant in the Blue Room). Both are just about 5k words so that’s different lately.

Tried to find some markets to submit to and failed. Nothing in my pay rate.

As planned for June, I want to get in another short, flash or longer, before starting Kharma part 13 but I’m not sure what to write. Horror isn’t my thing, so that’s out. I could do a sci-fi/YA but it has theme setting I already used in other stories but a different plot. I don’t want to repeat myself.

Maybe something will pop into my head that will make it different enough for me to jump into it. For now I can just open my tiny notebook on Monday and pick anyone of the ideas and use one of those. Spontaneously write without a net. Maybe a crime story or a contemporary YA story will have to do.

Over the weekend I compromised my ego. The local vintage theatre was screening the greatest sequel of all time, The Road Warrior. Words can’t describe how important a film this is to me and my childhood. It’s a work of art. And a chance to see it on a 50 ft screen? When will I get another.

But for my wife’s birthday/mother’s day present I had given her tickets to see Kings of Leon that night at the PNC. I had bought the tickets back in February and the movie wasn’t announced until a few weeks ago. How was I to know the conflict. Of course I had to take my wife to the concert. You know how much these tickets cost me? Right side orchestra, row O?

Plus the context. My wife, a big fan of the group, won tickets to see them at the PNC 5 or 6 years ago. The week of the show they canceled and refunded due to health reasons. A band like this only does big venues, festivals. I’ve been stalking their homepage trying to find out when they would come back to Jersey. And they finally did.

My wife had a good time. She danced all night. I snapped some good pictures for her. She’s still shaking from the experience.

But still, I imagine myself in that seat in the theatre, looking up at that huge screen, in a not so distant future where one struggles for gasoline.

Oh, the car crashes.

Three years old is a good age to start drinking

Finished the draft/revision of Hacker’s Moon (Miki 11) and sent it out. Hopefully I should see it back in two months and another few months of revising it again with said comments I can have I ready for the world.

Tomorrow I will work on one of two stories for resubmitting. After those two are done I need to revise two more to send out to markets.

Today I send out two more stories to markets. Been keeping busy, trying to make money. It’s hard out there trying to find high paying markets but since I write so much in various genres it’s been helping.

Which reminds me of my life. My writing reflects my life in that I can’t stick with one genre or type of person or group.

In a book I have horror, mystery, sci-fi, romance, comedy ala kitchen sink. Like my life. I have many kinds of friends but I don’t stick with one group. I have no tribe. Not even in school when I was a kid. I hung out with one kind of kid one day and another kind of kid a different day. Sometimes I brought the two kids together the same day but not all the time. Sometimes that shot me in the foot. Those two kids would get together and not invite me and I would have no one to hang out with.

As I grew older I had fewer friends but more groups. Don’t ask. I don’t know how that happened. They just didn’t ask me to go with them. In all fairness I was home writing or watching TV or depressed or whatever.

Same thing happened in college. Many groups. I stood alone.

(My isolation is another blog post)

Today being in a tribe is nice. People have your back. You never feel alone. They stick up for you. They bank on you. Cover for you.

I would probably hate it.

When I worked for Met Life they tried to get me to join their lunches and after work drunk fests and weekend picnics and overtime and I decline. Of course they subtly made me feel like I was doing something wrong. I agreed. It was wrong for me to do. But I wanted to go home to be with my wife.

The one constant was how I felt in these groups. I never felt comfortable for long. I didn’t belong. I wasn’t normal with them. I was the alien. I didn’t speak their language. I couldn’t fake being human long enough. Maybe that’s why I didn’t stay with each one for long. (again, another blog post)

Now I have my own group. My wife, son, and daughter. I don’t want to leave. I don’t feel alone with them. I’m comfortable. I feel the have my back and take care of me. I’ll do the overtime. Go to the picnics. Have the drunkfests. Three years old is a good age to start drinking.