I have managed to break my glasses, a feat I had not attained since childhood. Dropped? Of course. Scratched? Absolutely. Had a screw loose? In glasses and in life, both. But broken? Nope.
It was way too easy when I was a kid, and it was probably only the support of our extended family that kept my mother from going bankrupt keeping me in eyeware. I think my most notable achievement was breaking a new pair of glasses the same bloody day I got them. All by accident, of course. Get hit in the head with a basketball, shoot out a lens with a BB gun (you’ll shoot your eye out! Nope. Just the lens), face plant in a game of touch football. As I said, easy.
Not so much when you’re an alleged adult. Now it takes more effort. Last Tuesday I had returned from physical therapy, which is another whole story. Sciatica. I has it. Didn’t even know what sciatica was, other than a reference in Harlan Ellison’s classic, “Working With the Little People.” Hoo, boy. Now I know why Charlie the Gremlin was so damn grumpy, but I digress. Hobbled up the steps toward the back patio, tripped and did a faceplant into the concrete. As to the damage to my face, let’s just say it left a mark. Or three. More importantly, I did a number on my glasses.
So now I’m typing this supported only by the vision my genetics and a bad case of measles left me. My new glasses are on order. Maybe when they get here I’ll be able to see clearly again. Which would be nice, since I don’t think I’ve ever seen all that clearly before now.
Hey, a guy can dream.
Or at least that’s the conclusion I’ve drawn. When I was working a regular 8-5, things were simpler. I’d get up around 7AM, get dressed, take out the trash, go to work. When I got home, I’d eat dinner (and usually cook it, too), spend a bit of quality time with First Reader, then disappear into the library and try to get some writing work done. It wasn’t a perfect system by any means, but overall it served.
Now that’s all gone. In theory, I have lots of time. In practice, almost none. There’s always something else wanting my attention. This summer I spent most days working on the room over the garage because we’re turning it into a studio. I estimate it’ll take half of next summer to get everything finished. Regardless, I make time. Plus house maintenance and yard maintenance, which I also must make time for. When’s my writing work time now? Snatches here and there. I always feels like I”m stealing it because, for the most part, it ain’t on the agenda.
This isn’t working.
I’m going to try blocking out the time after dinner. I have to be flexible on this, with an understanding that a disruption of the schedule is just that–a disruption. It has to be clear to me and to my loved ones that this is my time, and if I’m doing anything else, I’m not doing what I need to be doing.
Seems simple enough, of the face of it. We’ll see how it goes.
The first thing you may or may not notice about the new US paperback edition of The Long Look is that the cover is slightly different from the original hardcover and ebook editions. That’s because the original design was too close to the “bleed” limits of the pod cover specs. The jacket had to be redesigned from scratch, starting with Steve Gilberts’ original artwork. It took four attempts to get it right, and the final cover was just approved yesterday.
Revising the text was a breeze by comparison. And yes, there were changes. Not major, but changes nonetheless. Mostly a few embarrassing usage and context errors. I’ll be updating the ebook edition with the same changes in a few days, or at least I hope I will. It’s shaping up to be a very busy week.
Regardless, the UK edition is available here. If anyone anywhere else is interested, let me know. For now I had to go with limited distribution to keep the price of the book down, but it will be available in a few more countries.
I’ve been reading and loving Jeffrey Ford’s newest, Ahab’s Return. As the title suggests, it’s about what happens after the events of Moby Dick, when Captain Ahab turns up alive. Once I’ve finished I’ll do a review, if I think I have anything worth saying about it. Don’t wait for me, though. The book is already out there.
Today I wanted to talk about a new project. When I moved to central NY, apparently everyone on the block already knew I was a writer. To this day I have no idea how; I certainly didn’t tell them, nor does anyone seem to recall how they found out. I’m not complaining, but I still think it was a little odd. Regardless, another neighbor told me about a flash fiction group meeting at the library and suggested I join.
I was reluctant. I’ve never been a fan of flash fiction, regarding it, as I know I’ve said before, as a cross between “short attention span theater” and a parlor trick. Yeah, I know, I hear it too: Judgmental much? Still, it’s not the sort of writing I normally did, but I finally gave in and checked it out.
Glad I did. It’s a talented bunch of people and writing flash has its own challenges, so on top of whatever else I have going, I write a complete micro(mini?) flash piece of <= 500 words every week. Then the head of the local theater group found out what we were doing and thought it would be interesting to do as a podcast. So we all read stories for the project, now called FlashCast. I’m including the link for the Spreaker site. In case you’re wondering, my first story up is “The Stowaway,” in episode #2, second story. Yeah, that’s my own melodic voice. I need to work on my enunciation, but otherwise not horrible. It’s also available on iTunes, though there’s more than one podcast associated with “flashcast,” so look for the logo if you go that route.
I have two more stories recorded, and I’ll note when they’re up.
I’m late again. There are reasons, but I won’t bore you with them. I’m late, that’s all, and to somewhat atone, today’s Story Time is a novelette, “Golden Bell, Seven, and the Marquis of Zeng. It was originally published in the debut issue of Black Gate back in 2000.
The character Golden Bell, literally, came to me in a dream, and this is what she said “I have a fever of poetry that consumes me, a malady of song that wears me down.” I had no idea what that was about, so I basically wrote the story to find out. I did the hard part. If you want to know, all you have to do is read it.
Assuming I’m not late again, “Golden Bell, Seven, and the Marquis of Zeng” will stay online until next Wednesday, September 5th.