Tag Archives: ME Kinkade

Do the Shuffle: Zombie School

Whattya think? Could you make it through zombie school?

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May 11, 2013 · 10:08 am

Review: A Practical Wedding

A Practical Wedding: Creative Ideas for Planning a Beautiful, Affordable, and Meaningful CelebrationA Practical Wedding: Creative Ideas for Planning a Beautiful, Affordable, and Meaningful Celebration by Meg Keene

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I would like a pocket-size version of Meg Keene to carry with me as I go through the wedding planning process. She’d be amazing! Better than an angel and devil on your shoulder, my mini-Meg would tell me to breathe, not freak out over pretty pictures of things I can’t afford, and talk me through the inevitable tough moments as I plan my wedding bash. A little voice of sanity in an insane bridal world, if you will.

This book was outstanding, and I can’t recommend it enough. Compared to the others, which may claim to be about being budgeting while encouraging you to “splurge” on 100 different things, A Practical Wedding is, well, practical.

Look, if you want a book to make you feel princessy and floofy and special-snowflake and to reassure you that you HAVE to do a hundred million idiotic things, go read something–just about anything–else wedding-related. Heck, forget buying a book and just sign up for every wedding website out there. And then book your honeymoon to an asylum where the internet is blocked, because it will probably drive you Cra-ZY.

If you’d rather be realistic about your wedding and learn how to negotiate the challenges and fights that seem to come with the territory, pick up this book. Additionally, it doesn’t assume much about how things “have to be.” This is a book that would work well for an atheist couple, a gay couple (though a lot of the language is still habitually bride-centric), a Methodist couple, or a freewheeling-whatever-goes couple. In addition to the fantastic real-world bride stories (covering everything from weddings after tragedies to doing your own floral arrangements), I really appreciated that Keene included the actual history of weddings. Long story short: If someone says you “HAVE” to do it because “tradition,” odds are it’s an imaginary tradition.

I had originally planned to read this book then pass it on to another engaged friend…but now I’m not sure I can give it up. I can already see myself going back and rereading sections as it comes down to the wire to actually handle the issue for that chapter. I’ve already asked my groom to read the extremely sensible pre-marriage questions section with me. I’m considering passing this book on to my mom to ward off “tradition!” fights.

But you should definitely pick up a copy if you’re engaged and overwhelmed! (Or just read her website. But really, you’ll want the book, too!)

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Review: ParaNorman

I wasn’t planning on reviewing movies: a lot of people do that, and do it really well, and I just don’t watch enough TV to keep up any sort of pace. But I just watched “ParaNorman,” and wowza.

Long review short:

  • If you are an adult who loves stop-motion or just really fantastic visuals,…
  • If you are an adult who has always loved quirky kids’ movies,…
  • If you are interested in supernatural tropes and twists on your expectations,…
  • If you are a parent of a child who is bullied, or who you think may be acting as a bully, you and your child…
  • If you are a parent of an older-age kid who fits in one of the above categories, you and your child …
  • If you’ve always been or are the parent of a kid who likes movies that might be a little bit scary for other kids, …

…Watch “ParaNorman.”

I wish this movie had made a bigger splash when it came out. After hearing it was stop-motion from the guys who did “Coraline,” I was interested, but none of the ads made me actually want to see it. For one thing, they seemed to focus a lot on ghosts and “talking to the dead.” And overall the ads didn’t seem to have a clear idea of what it was.

Ghosts are in the movie, and talking to the dead is significant, but you know what 90% of the movie is? Zombies. Funny zombies, scary zombies, bad b-movie zombies, regular people that are pretty much zombies because they’re kinda dumb…

It’s a movie about Norman, a kid who can talk to/see the dead, but no one in town believes him and he’s bullied and teased by pretty much everyone. Except then it turns out that the town legend about cursed pilgrims and a witch is, um, actually true. Oops! And Norman is the only one who can rescue them, but he’s a little fuzzy on the “how” part of that. It takes awhile for him to work it out, and he does, in a better-than-the-grown-ups solution he decides upon all by himself. He makes a lot of friends in the process, and most of the townspeople realize how stupid they’ve been (and the rest deny it).

And did I mention it is visually stunning? There were times I wanted to pause the movie just to look at all the detail. I can’t believe this was claymation/stop-motion. I mean, it’s nothing like “Wallace & Grommet,” and those are some incredible movies. I wish I could see the set and the props up close. It would be an amazing miniatures display!

For some of the supernatural elements, they’ve overlaid some light CGI. It’s not distracting, but is really excellent at emphasizing the “otherness” of the spooky bits. And it was great! Drool-worthy.

If you’re still on the fence about “ParaNorman,” (or you’re just looking for other good stuff) consider this list. If you’ve liked something else here, odds are good you’ll like “ParaNorman,” too.

“The Graveyard Book,” book by Neil Gaiman
“Coraline,” by Neil Gaiman (book or movie. Personally I found the movie a lot scarier).
“The Corpse Bride,” movie by Tim Burton
“The Nightmare Before Christmas,” by Tim Burton
“Frankenweenie,” by Tim Burton (my goodness, can you imagine how epic it would be if you got Neil Gaiman together with Tim Burton?! Minds would explode)
“Anya’s Ghost,” comic by Vera Brosgol
“Monster House,” movie directed by Gil Kenan

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A Family In Isolation

I found this incredible article on April 1 and assumed it was an April Fool’s joke. But it’s real; the Smithsonian isn’t really known for pulling legs, and besides, the article was originally published in January.

In 1978, a team of geologists discovered a family of 5 that had been living in complete isolation more than 150 miles from any civilization for 40 years. Here’s the article. Read it, it’s fantastic.

It’s hard to imagine what that would be like. This is not “Little House on the Prairie” isolation: this is “if you can’t grow it or make it, you don’t have it” isolation. This is “our best entertainment is telling each other our dreams” isolation.

I found it very inspiring and enlightening. What does all that isolation do to a person? I think it’s fascinating the way each of the family m

embers responded to their discovery of other people. Fear, initially. Gradual acceptance. Then variations: stubborn refusal; stoic interest; awe.

The discussions of the differences in language were really interesting, too. The daughters had invented a singsong way of speaking that the geologists found difficult to understand; they didn’t really need anyone but their parents and brother to understand them anyway, so they never adopted a “grown-up” tone.

I think these kinds of amazing true stories are important to read because they can inform so much of our writing. For example, I think it would have helped Hugh Howey write his descriptions of feral children or the man alone in the silo. In short, they wouldn’t be speaking with the strangers, or maybe at all. Maybe they’d have their own languages. There’d be a lot more fear. There would be more unusual ways of coping.

The Point Cabrillo Lighthouse. Image from KelleyHouseMuseum.org

I’ve found stories of isolation compelling since I visited the Cabrillo National Monument and lighthouse in San Diego a few years ago. The museum there explained what lighthouse work was like at the time: a family lived in the lighthouse, visiting the small city of San Diego only every few weeks for supplies, a long two-day journey. They were otherwise alone, and had to rely on their ability to collect rainwater and provide their own entertainment. (Clearly they were often bored; so many things in that house were “decorated” with seashells!)

Even more interesting? The lighthouse assistant–often a woman–lived alone, in a small house nearby. While she was in training to take over the lighthouse in an emergency or possibly in the future, she did not eat or interact with the family. Her isolation was even greater than that of the lighthouse keeper, a man who could at least rely on his family to be there for him.

What inspires you?

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Managing Expectations

Last week was pretty exciting, for several reasons. One was that a fellow writer I had met at a conference contacted me to ask if she could submit my novel, Undead Rising, to a publisher for consideration. I was over the moon!

She had only heard me talk about it–I’d given my standard description: a zombie novel for adults where the reader could “Decide Your Destiny” by making choices along the way, a gamebook (a genre best known by the Choose Your Own Adventure novels). She thought that sounded awesome, but I had sent her my sample pages just to be sure she really wanted to submit it; I didn’t want her to submit something she couldn’t really vouch for.

She looked over the sample… and it was not what she had expected.

She said:

It wasn’t quite what I was expecting from an adult version of CYA. (sic)  It was fun because it reminded me of the books I used to read when I was younger but I think that is my roadblock; it’s too much like the young books (except for the work references and swearing, it feels written for a pre-teen audience).  … I liked the story and I still LOVE the concept – I just don’t think this would fit with [publisher].

Ouch.

But it was actually okay. I felt a little over my head with the whole situation, so while it was exciting and a good experience, I think she was right to turn it down if she didn’t feel like it wasn’t the right fit. Better to get out of it quickly, before I got my hopes too high.

The thing is, I don’t necessarily disagree with any of her comments. In fact, some of what she said is exactly why I think my story is great. It relies heavily on nostalgia from the original Choose-Your-Own-Adventure novels (which were originally published in the 1970s). It would be appropriate for readers from about 15-up (but I still think it’s “adult”). It’s not horror; it’s humor.

It’s left me wondering if I need to tweak my pitch a little. How can I get across a sense of what this book really is? I still think most people would love it and that it would do well as a print book (I’m less certain about how a choice-based book would do on a ereader. More research to do).

Sometimes, looking at the list of genres, it’s very challenging to pick exactly where your book fits (particularly for one like this, that has some crossover elements). How did you find your category?

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Lessons in Companionship

I’ve been playing BioShock: Infinite since it came out last Tuesday, and it is phenomenal. It is beautiful, challenging, has a great story, excellent mechanics, and pretty much makes me want to spend all my time there.

For non-gamers, BioShock Infinite is the third in a series of dystopian first-person shooter (or FPS) games, where you play as the shooter–basically, you are the main character. (Here’s my quick explanation from before the game came out). In this story, you are a mysterious guy sent to retrieve a girl, Elizabeth, from a sky-city. It’s 1912 and everything has a bit of a steampunk vibe. You get guns to shoot bad guys with and superpowers to help you interact with this city.

I’m only about halfway through, so I’m not sure how it’s going to end, but this game is already standing out for me, all because of Elizabeth.

Elizabeth is a sassy character who is NOT afraid to beat you over the head with a heavy physics book.

She is hands-down the BEST companion I have ever seen in a video game. And maybe in a TV show. And she’s one of the best I’ve ever seen in a book, too, (excepting maybe The Lord of the Rings, because hobbits).

Compared to the other media, video games have a few extra challenges with their companions: they have to not get killed in combat; they have to have a bunch of replies/interactions depending on what the player does; and they have to be able to keep up (any gamer can tell you horror stories about glitches where they have “lost” a companion character because the game warped them ahead or behind, and they had to go back and start from a save point to try to recover them. It’s not fun).

Not only does Elizabeth manage to do all of these things well, she’s got serious personality. And she’s genuinely helpful. And, above all, she is not a damsel in distress (though she does start out locked in a tower and you have to rescue her). Check out that video if you want to see the problems with ladies trapped in towers: it can get ugly.

But no; though you do start out as Elizabeth’s rescuer, she later chooses to stay with you. (She might later choose to stab the player in the back, for all I know. We’ll find out!) This completely changes the dynamic! Now she’s not just a helpless girl following her big, heavily armed hero around because she has to: she made a choice.

Woah.

And then here’s where she really starts to be cooler than many TV companion characters (I’m looking at you, Doctor Who)–she’s not helpless. She has at least three sets of abilities that help you BOTH get through the game. Unlike other games where the companion character is really just something for the character to lug around from place to place (*ahem* Rose Tyler***; *ahem*Princess Peach; *ahem* 007 Goldeneye’s Natalya), you could not survive this game without Elizabeth.

Sure, she needs you; but you need her, too.

I’m not going to go too much into her powers (because, spoilers!), but Elizabeth provides a potent lesson for other game designers and writers in general: your supporting characters need to be fully developed characters in their own right.

Things I can tell you about Elizabeth:

  • She has three extremely helpful abilities.
  • She’s missing part of her little finger on her right hand. (Mysterious!)
  • She wants to go to Paris, France.
  • She enjoys painting and reading.
  • She was locked in a tower for most of her life.
  • She has a joie de vive about her, but can be a little naive.
  • She’s certainly intelligent, like, quantum physics intelligent.
  • She can fight back.
  • If you leave her alone, she’ll explore and interact with her environment, showcasing her creativity.
  • She doesn’t very much approve of your character’s morality, but she’s willing to go along with you if it’ll benefit her.

Wow. I’m only maybe halfway through the game! There’s a lot more I can learn, plus some of her abilities are growing to change with the flow of the game. I think I know more about Elizabeth than I know about my playable character.

She’s incredible. Props to 2K for creating such a fantastic character.

Other people: Be more like this. It makes me more interested in the story and more invested in your creation.

***I’ve only watched about half of the Rose Tyler episodes. Yes, I know, I’m behind. So I admit she might get better, but so far? She doesn’t really contribute much.

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Secrets to Hugh Howey’s Success

As I read the “Wool Omnibus,” I couldn’t help but wonder: why this book? What magic made this series the breakout self-publishing success that is redefining what it means to be a self-published author? What is generating all this crazy buzz?

This may upset some readers, but I don’t think it was anything actually about the book. In fact, I thought the book was just OK. Maybe it’s just that I’ve read a lot of dystopian fiction, but nothing about “Wool” seemed inherently revolutionary. The first novella was good, but the stories in the “Wastelands” anthology were just as good or better. (If you like dystopias but haven’t read “Wastelands,” go. Do it. It’ll knock your socks off and give you chills.)

The covers of his books aren’t that great, despite all the advice on the internet telling you that it’s vital.

He seems like a pretty likable guy, but I’m sure there are lots of likeable authors that haven’t smashed all the records.

So what gives? How did Hugh Howey do it?

I don’t know for sure, having not met the guy–I read his blog and I have read several articles about him (including this one from the Wall Street Journal, where the graphic artist clearly did not bother actually reading the book)–but this is the impression I get:

  1. Story Raises Questions

    The  first story in what came to be the “Wool Omnibus” is a tightly written short story set in a world tantalizingly like our own. It inspires a lot of questions: How did they get there? Why all the mystery? Why did his wife die? Is the world really poisonous? Why would they do this to their people? What’s it like? How long have they been there?
    That’s a lot of questions for a first story, and it is very engaging. You’re hungry for more.

  2. It’s a Novella

    All those questions called out for answering, and, luckily, Howey didn’t write a whole novel: he just wrote a novella. So he decided to write other novellas to answer some of these questions (judging by the rest of the stories, he wasn’t all that sure what the answers were at first, either).
    But this novella model made it very easy for Howey to break his sales into different markets. Here, have the first story free. Want more? Oh, that’s $2.99. More again? Another $2.99, please. It’s very savvy marketing. Plus, because they were short, he could churn out more stories quickly, while he was still on the readers’ minds. Now he can continue selling or giving away the short stories AND can sell the Omnibus version–with a higher price tag (AND devoted fans can now buy it in print form, too!).
    (To be fair to Mr. Howey: I think his pricing structure is exceedingly fair to the reader. $2.99 isn’t a painful price point at all: he could have jacked the price up much higher. But he didn’t. And, I think, that turned out to be a great marketing move for him as well).

  3. eBooks

    All his stories were originally online-only. I can’t be sure, but I think he was predominantly selling via Amazon, too. This allowed his price point to be set so crazy low; have a very fast publishing turn-around time (less than 24 hours after he’d completed a book, it could be sold); he could skip all the traditional publishing steps; and it allowed him to interact with his fans directly.

  4. Blog

    I’ve only been following Mr. Howey’s success for a short time, but he is very active on his blog. He posts videos of his book launches. He engages directly with his readers, so they feel like they are part of the process. In fact, he credits readers with the reason there is more than one book at all. That’s pretty clever; now the reader is part of the process, he has partial ownership of the result. (Of course, this could have horribly backfired if the result was really poor, but as long as it was modestly good, Howey was golden here. And it is, so he is.)

  5. This Wasn’t His First Rodeo

    Howey had been through the publishing and self-publishing ranks before, so he knew what to expect. I think this made him more prepared when “Wool” started blowing up, because he’d been selling books online for awhile. This is also good for him now, because readers who liked “Wool” but had to wait for another section of the story could buy and read something else he had written in the meantime.

  6. NaNoWriMo

    Howey is a NaNoWriMo competitor, and that practice helped: all of his stories are penned very quickly, in marathon writing sessions. I think that agility is part of his success, and he couldn’t have attained that if he hadn’t been practiced in it already.

  7. He’s Got a Nice Wife

    The Wall Street Journal article up there notes that Howey’s wife is a psychologist. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume she makes decent, if not great, money, enough they can live on her income alone; for awhile, Howey was unemployed. When he did take a job, it was a 30-hour-a-week gig at a bookstore that allowed him more time to write. His wife is a nice lady; she tolerated and encouraged his writing addiction. Without the flexibility his wife (and her income) provided, I guarantee Howey could not have published his books and therefore been a success. She deserves some of the credit.

  8. He Got Lucky

    Honestly, luck and timing can’t be discounted. Howey started publishing “Wool” after “The Hunger Games” was a huge success and had whetted readers’ appetites for dystopias (some of us like dystopias all the time, but I realize I’m the minority here). Dystopias are a pretty small niche, too, so it was probably easier for randomly searching readers to find it (compared to, say, romance, which is a flooded genre). He was able to publish via Amazon, a format that is still evolving but flat-out didn’t exist even 5 years ago. He couldn’t have done it without the platform; I highly doubt his book would have been published at all, much less as a huge success, if he had had to go through the traditional publishing gauntlet.

Not everything on this list is replicable; I wouldn’t suggest trying to imitate Howey in hopes of seeing the same success. But it is helpful to keep an eye on the high-fliers as we develop our own paths.

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12 Months of Experimental Tales

This month, inspired by one of my absolute favorite authors, I set out to write 12 short stories, using prompts selected by Neil Gaiman. I later found out that this kind of short, quickly written fiction is known as “flash fiction.” (Look at that! I was part of a thing and I didn’t even know it!) I’ve never participated in this kind of writing exercise: the last time I wrote fiction in response to a prompt was in the one creative writing class I’ve ever had, which was in high school and acted mostly like a therapy group for teenage angst.

Twelve stories. It took me nearly a month to complete the challenge (though I never went over an hour in writing each one, so mission accomplished. Technically my writing time was the same as Gaiman’s, though I didn’t have the luxury of three consecutive days of writing–thank goodness I also didn’t have the camera crew). While I loved it, I’m also glad I don’t have these unfinished prompts hanging over my head anymore!

What I’ve Learned from the Calendar of Tales

  1. Prompts are great
    Like I said, I haven’t written from a prompt with any regularity in awhile. I don’t remember liking prompts, but these were nice and juicy and open-ended. I enjoyed having something percolating in the back of my mind. In fact, I often chose to work on the Calendar Tales because of the intriguing prompts..meaning I sometimes neglected my longer fiction pieces (I still love you guys, promise!)
  2. Short fiction can be liberating
    Maybe I’m just a little backwards, but I’ve heretofore preferred longer fiction. I just didn’t see the point in sitting down to write something I knew was going to be short; better to use that energy on a longer project that can pack more punch. But the short word count on these was great: I could say whatever I wanted! I didn’t have to bother explaining where everything came from or making sure each little loose bit was tied together. I just needed to say enough to establish the scene and the problem, and get out of the way. In a lot of the stories, I’m imagining a lot more that just didn’t fit, and I’m okay with that. I hope the reader enjoys filling in the broad strokes, too.
  3. Accents are hard
    For the August tale, I knew I wanted a twangy Texas grandma as the narrator. It’s an accent I thought I could fake pretty well, but I ended up spending the most time on that story out of all of them as I struggled to figure out how to spell the words the way they should be pronounced. I wanted her to be twangy and kind of like Gertrude Beasley, a plain-speaking sassy-as-hell real woman from the barren 1920s of west Texas (My First Thirty Years is a tough read sometimes, but it’s now available to download on Kindle, if you’re interested). I had the hardest time figuring out how you might say “child” with that accent! I think I got it, but it took a lot of trial and error. I have a lot more appreciation for those who write accents frequently.
  4. Ducks Can be Scary
    I don’t watch horror movies. I don’t read horror novels either (except for when I’ve started a book without realizing it’s horror but can’t stop because I have to know what happens), and I struggled to make it through 75% of Joe Hill’s excellent Horns on audiobook before I couldn’t take it anymore. So I didn’t really think I was going to be writing horror. But the April story–I just knew it needed to be terrifying, because the idea of scary ducks was both absurd and believable to me. I think it did a decent job at it, but I think the better lesson is that it’s good to try things even if you think it’s beyond your abilities.
  5. Beta readers are good people
    I fit the writer-as-hermit stereotype pretty well, but it’s something I know I need to work on. Just before starting this venture, I met some great folks at ConDFW, one of whom was just foolish enough to say he’d be a beta reader for me. (Hey there Bryan!) After I wrote each piece, I sent it over to him, giggling like a fiend and hoping he found it just as funny/clever/scary/whatever. And biting my nails when I didn’t get an email back instantly. I’ve been leery of sharing my work before, but this project was different. Bryan caught some dumb mistakes and I’m really grateful for his help. Lesson learned: Beta readers = good.

I’m glad I took on this challenge, and I think it produced some fun and interesting results. I hope readers enjoyed them, too! Read all of the calendar tales.

What writing challenges have you participated in lately? What do you learn from them?

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A Calendar of Tales: December

(Prompt: Who would you want to see again?)
“My 18 yo-runaway-self so I can show her that I find someone to love & own a home of my own – it did get better.”

This side of town is darker than I remembered, grungier. I remembered it as an artistic, safe-ish place, full of fun and interesting people; seeing it now, I wonder how this ever seemed appealing. I don’t go to areas like this, not at night.

But it’s December 1987, and I know I have a hard year behind and ahead of me. I’ve thought about it for a long time—these visits don’t come cheap—and this seems like the best time for me to come, to offer myself another chance. I’ll have another tough year after this, but I remember how terrible this winter was for me. I hope that coming now will mean I’m happier.

I pull my coat closer and step through the portal onto the street, remembering to close it behind me as I go. My younger self will be within 6 blocks of here; I never did travel far, those days.

I checked the store room of the Indian restaurant on 9th first; it’s warm there, and the owners sometimes gave me some rice at the end of the night. But the servers are still bustling, so I move down the block, in the sheltered alcove next to the Dumpster overlooking the park.

I see my boots first, two sizes too big and unlaced most of the way. How did I ever walk in those, anyway? I shake my head and make a noise in my throat, “ahem,” and stare down at my 18-year-old self.

Gawd was I a scrawny thing.

“I don’t know what you heard”—it’s shocking how pale I look—“but I don’t do that no more,” my young twin says diffidently.

“I’m not interested in anything you have to offer, Sam. I’m here to offer you something,” I say, extending a hand.

Young Sam glares up at me from under that beat-up old hat. I thought I looked killer in that hat; I still have it. “Who are you?” I sneer.

“I’m you, in the future. You’re me, in my past. I know, it’s hard to explain, but trust me on this. Time travel is invented in 2047, and it’s 2056 in my time now. I’ve—we’ve—led a good life, and I wanted to come tell you it’s going to be okay,” I say. I offer my hand again, hoping my younger self will take it and walk with me.

He disappoints me, mistrustful, but I understand. “Gawd I don’t age well,” he grimaces, disgusted.

“I thought I might show you how things are going to turn out,” I offer. “If you’ll come with me just here…”

I gesture toward the open wall. Young Sam stays out of arm’s reach, but gets up and follows me. Good enough for me. Fumbling with the switch, I activate the portal.

“That’s going to be your home, Sam. See? It’s beautiful, isn’t it? It’s got 5 bedrooms—five! I think sometimes I should sleep in all of them, just because I can…” I turn and look at my younger self, practically feeling the desperation in him. “You have a family; better than you’ve ever dreamed. You even get a respectable job, and it pays for two top-of-the-line hovercars, and vacations in Bermuda and Taipei and all over the world.”

He’s leaning in, as if he wants to grab the house right out of the portal. I can feel his longing; I remember its echoes in my own heart. “That’s my future, huh?” Young Sam says.

“Yes, Sam,” I say. “It’s all going to be alright.”

“So you’re telling me you came all the way from the future to show off all the cool stuff you’ve got?” He opens his arms, angry. “You came here to goddamn brag, old man?!”

“What? No,” I say, flabbergasted. “I remember how bad this year was, how bad the next was, and I thought if you saw that things were going to work out, you’d feel better and it wouldn’t be so hard.”

My younger self snorted. I don’t remember being so rude. “Man, I get stupid when I’m dumb. You think I want some crazy asshole to come up, tell me he’s from the future and show me a bunch of shit I can’t have? Well, no thanks. I’m not waitin’ around for no punk-ass future.” Out of nowhere, young Sam slams his open palm on my hat, pulling it down over my eyes. While I’m blinded, he yanks the portal fob from my hand and knocks me to the ground.

I look up just in time to see those stupid unlaced boots disappearing into the portal.

“Well, that didn’t go exactly as planned,” I say to the Dumpster, dusting off my hat and sighing. “Thank goodness I bought the time travel insurance.” I walked back to the sidewalk to wait for the time governors to pick me up and dump my stupid younger self back in 1987.

Kids in these days; no respect for their future elders.

Read more of the calendar tales.

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Now with: Editing!

I added something new to my blog. You might have noticed it, but then, perhaps not. It’s discreet and coy, sitting up there on the navigation bar, swizzling its straw in a drink with an umbrella in it, hoping you’ll notice.

Yes, that’s it. Editing.

MEK-edits-logoI’m proud to announce that I now, in addition to my writing and general blogging, am offering editing services.

The truth is out: I can’t hide my infatuation with commas any longer. No more will I hide my affection for clean syntax! I shall no longer cower behind my dictionary!

No, I shall take up my red pen (or Track Changes in Word) and use my powers for good!

In all seriousness, I have worked as a copyeditor and proofreader for 6 years, in newspapers, magazines, and private companies. As I have gotten acquainted with more writers online, I’ve noticed the gap between writers and quality editors; there are a lot of complaints about high prices, a difficulty of access, and unqualified folks.

In contrast, I’m offering reasonable prices (and am open to negotiation, if need be), you’ve already found me and I’m available by email, and I’ve got experience. You can check out my samples on my editing page, or, if you need further convincing, send me a message and I’ll do a few sample pages for you to let you decide for yourself.

I believe an editor can help all of us and, particularly as self-publishing and indie publishing continue to flourish, I’d like to help other authors overcome some of the obstacles to a completed work.

Please drop me a line at mekedits(at)gmail.com if you’re interested. I’m also listed on http://www.writer.ly, which is in beta release. I’d love to work with you.

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