Pardon the commercial interruption, but I believe that some of you out there might actually want to know this. After several months delay, I’ve finally assembled the complete (and I do mean complete) collection of the Eli Mothersbaugh Ghost Hunter series in ebook (Nook and Kindle) edition. This includes all seven of the Eli Mothersbaugh stories previously published plus five stories written especially for this edition. And by “especially written” I mean just that. The intent all along was to include these stories as originals in a collection of the Eli Mothersbaugh series, and that’s what I’m doing. I won’t guarantee that there will never be another new EM story after this, but in my mind the series arc is complete, and right now I can’t see writing any more of them. I consider this the definitive edition. Continue reading
“Now the Monkey on My Back Has a New Act”
We’ve all heard the old chestnut “Be careful what you wish for, because you might get it.”
Expectations. In my personal opinion, expectations can kill a career as dead as Ordering to the Net, only quicker. It’s perfectly normal that you start selling stories and think “Now what?” Ok, so you’ve sold a story? Have you qualified for Active in SFWA? Ok, that’s three stories, good. The first two weren’t flukes, that’s nice to know. So. Have you sold a collection? Ok, now you’ve sold a collection? Marvelous! Have you sold a novel? Won a Nebula or Hugo? Been nominated for any darn thing? Sold a Movie Option? Done… well, you get the idea. My friend and mentor Parke Godwin once described this as the “Now the Monkey on My Back Has a New Act” syndrome. This is perfectly normal. What’s not normal is when the monkey, so to speak, thinks the show’s over.
We tend to forget that the sole purpose of a goal is to be a target, but once you hit the mark, its job is done. A goal in its pure essence is a direction, not a destination. One you reach a goal you don’t clear a plot of land on the site, build a split-level with a pool in the back yard and move in. That way lies stagnation. If you don’t want to stagnate, you have to look for the next goal or retire. Those are your choices. Pick one. Continue reading
Writing Exercise #4
We had a little more time on this one (I think there was an operational error on the timer), and I took advantage. The challenge was “What frightens you?” To which my immediate reaction was “Hell, what doesn’t frighten me?” And so it went.
Dr. Louis asked his first question, “Mr. Crenshaw, what are
you afraid of?”
I almost walked out then and there. I didn’t care how highly recommended the guy was, I thought it was a stupid thing to ask. What was I afraid of? Hell, what wasn’t I afraid of? But I was on the hook for the first session whether I was there or not, so I decided to play along.
“Well, there’s spiders.”
“That’s a common one—“ Dr. Louis began, but I didn’t let
him finish. “And mice. And Cats. And… snakes. And dark holes where snakes might
be hiding. Let’s see…. Wasps. Bees. The entire hymenoptera family, really.”
“Your chart doesn’t mention an allergy.”
“What’s that got to do with anything? Now, where was
I…right. Hymenoptera, and lepidoptera too—that’s butterflies and moths. Plus cattle prods. Cattle. Herd animals of any kind. Dust. Mold. Germs. Sterile environments. Polyester–”
“Out of curiosity,” Dr. Louis asked, “Why polyester?” Continue reading
SF vs Fantasy, or “Do I Really Care How Many Angels Can Dance on a Bar?”
Every so often, you know it’s going to happen. Like a dormant virus, it waits until conditions are right and then there’s the sudden outbreak, often triggered by a particular novel or story—“Is Deadbeat Downbelow really sf? I mean, its tone is very sfnal, but where’s the speculation?” or “Magic Wind Fairies reads like sf, I mean, everything’s very logical and thought out.” I follow the conversations with interest (it’s nearly always interesting when intelligent people discuss matters near and dear to them) but I don’t really have much to contribute. Maybe there really is a line, maybe there isn’t. Yet even those who agree that you can draw a line and say, “This side fantasy, this side sf” are never going to agree on where that line is going to be drawn. Continue reading
Landscaping as Endurance Test
Earlier this year we had two Southern Pines taken down near our property line. They were too close to the house and made a mess besides. So then we had this bare strip of dirt bordering our neighbors, which made Carol unhappy. This weekend we set about correcting this. The plan was simple in theory—replace the pines with a smaller tree and then fill in the border with shrubs. Only our plan didn’t really take into account the nature of the dirt in that spot. If you can call it dirt. Here we call it pure Yazoo Clay.
There were eight plantings all together. Three “Sky Pencil” hollies along the fence. One Japanese Maple on the border strip, with two Chinese Hollies on either side. I tried a shovel. Yazoo Clay laughs at shovels. There are rocks that aren’t as hard to dig as packed Yazoo Clay. It occurred to me that there was a reason there were two pine trees in that location—nothing else would grow there of its own free will. So I got out the mattock, and that worked a little better, even though the situation was complicated by the fact that, while the trees were gone, most of their root systems were still in place. I was having to take frequent rest breaks, which prompted Carol to suggest that “Maybe we should have done this when we were younger. And of course by ‘we’ I mean ‘you.'” Ha. Ha. She so funny.
I managed three plantings on Saturday and the other five on Sunday. After about the twentieth pine root I’d chopped through, I took a good look at my mattock.
It was twisted.
Next time, I’m renting a jack-hammer, but only because dynamite is illegal.
