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It’s nearly Halloween, which means a few different things. First, it’s the time of year to start watching one of my favorite movies of all time as I gear up for my favorite holiday. I love Halloween. There’s something incredible about a holiday where perfectly responsible young adults can put on crazy costumes and wander the streets in search of candy. Barring that, there’s always barricading oneself in the house with a good supply of booze and hand out candy to the younger ones. Speaking of booze, I finally got to try Left Hand Brewing Co.’s Milk Stout Nitro. Well done, folks. That one’s a winner.

Second, the impending end of October means that it’s nearly November. It’s time to wrap up a couple of projects before National Novel Writing Month officially kicks off. I’d love to be able to use NaNoWriMo to put a coherent draft of my book together. I’m in the process of collecting my notes. I’ve got a couple of moleskines full of them right now.

Third, it means it’s a perfect time to be reading this:

Hellboy by Mike Mignola. Cover of Volume Ten, The Crooked Man and Others

It's always a good time for Mike Mignola.

I’ve been working my way through the Hellboy comics, finally. It only took me, oh, seven years after seeing the first movie. Now, thanks to the sheer awesomeness that is the public library system, I’m holding the first ten collected volumes of Mike Mignola’s greatest bit of genius. Those of you who have not read them (or at least seen the movies) are missing out. Mignola blends classic myths from around the world with his own, unique characters. The adventures of the members of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense are not to be ignored.

Anyway, I’ve got another job interview and two more applications to turn in, even though the thought of another Christmas in retail terrifies me. I’m still keeping my fingers crossed. I had an interview on Friday at one of the smaller library branches in town, and it would be better pay/more hours than I currently have. Good luck with your ventures, dear readers.

Mulligan Update

Scratch that. No luck with the Sofa Mart job. Back to the hunt, yet again.

Mulligan!

Can I have another weekend, please? I worked through all of the last one. Granted, my entire work week at the library is only 3 days each time, but it makes for a very full weekend, and it becomes a little difficult to get anything else done. Right now, it’s Tuesday morning, and it’s overcast and beautiful here in my little part of the world. The girlfriend is off to college for the day, so I’m editing a story for her that’s going to be her entry in the latest writing challenge. Yesterday was our four-year anniversary, and so I got to spend the entire day with her, while she was between classes. Friday night, after work, I got to go see a student production of Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus. It was a phenomenal black-box-theatre production, and some of my friends were playing various roles. All in all, it was very enjoyable. I didn’t get a whole lot done, though. I’m trying to regain some of that lost productivity, so I’m going to be doing some writing of my own as well.

There’s good news on the job front. I apparently did so well in my interview at Sofa Mart last week that they want me to schedule a 2nd interview, this time with the regional manager. Things may be looking up, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed anyway. I’m also waiting to hear about a status update on what could very well be my biggest project yet. I finally got a story sent in to Strange Horizons. For anyone unfamiliar with it, it’s a weekly online sci-fi magazine. I sent them a copy of Trans-Planetary Express, and now I’m waiting to hear back from them. If they accept it, it would be my greatest writing achievement to date. When this happens, you’ll be the first to know, dear readers. Well, second. I’ll be first.

It looks like the sun is finally managing to drive off some of the clouds outside. I was hoping I’d get through my coffee first, but it looks like that’s not going to happen. I should enjoy it while it lasts. My favorite season is fast approaching, though, and I have a lot to do before it gets here. I’m looking at you, NaNoWriMo.

There are some days that I wish I lived in another time. I’ve been considering the differences in writer networking now and in the past. Our discussions take place on blogs and social networking websites. Now we have this:

When we used to have this:

And facebook doesn't sell beer...

Some of us miss the old days, even though we never experienced them for ourselves. We’re crazy nostalgic people. Who knows, maybe someday fans of ours will flock to our old hangouts to see where we would sit and talk about our writing projects and listen to some fantastic music.

Music, booze, food, and some awesome upcoming writers.

I’ll keep doing my best to maintain the old ways. There’s something incredible about actually talking with fellow writers and idea people in person. There’s a dynamic that exists in places like this that you can’t find on twitter. I guess I’m a generational hybrid, some kind of living anachronism. I’m okay with this. I’m pretty sure it’s how I was meant to be. Anyway, I’ve killed an hour and a half doing stuff this morning and putting this entry together. It’s time to go do some real writing. Peace!

Facepalm

Tags. Why have I not been using them until now?

Productivity: I Has It

Yesterday was pretty much awesome. I rocked both of my job interviews (I think) and should be hearing back from them by the end of the week. The one at Sofa Mart was one of the coolest interviews I’ve ever had. I mean, in a building full of comfy furniture, the manager just picked a couple of couches for us to sit on and chatted about where I came from, what my interests are, etc. None of the boring situational questions like “Tell us about a time when you had to do such and such a thing, and how you reacted to it.” Quite honestly, those kind of questions just irritate me as an interviewee, and I don’t feel that they are nearly as effective as getting to really know a person. I digress. My point is that my interviews both went well. I’m hoping that I can secure new employment (or additional employment, because I would like to still be able to at least sub/volunteer at the library still, I love that job) before the end of the month, because it would make the house/apartment hunt a LOT easier. Knowing where I’ll be working lets me narrow my search to a certain area, and knowing how much I’ll be making lets me know how much I can afford to spend on rent each month. Oh yeah, and in addition to those two interviews, I decided to make the most of being a former Resident Assistant at my college and a former resident of a particular apartment complex. I dropped off a copy of my résumé (I love using the accented “e” when I type that word) at my former home, thinking that, if nothing else, my experience living there would give me a slight advantage in their hunt for a new leasing agent.Productivity: awwww yeah. Today’s goals: Get down to Motor City to pick up my parts for my car, pick up some stuff from the library, and submit a story to Strange Horizons.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my time at Borders, the good and the bad. One of my coworkers, and the first person I met at the location where I would eventually work, contacted me recently, asking if I would mind providing a personal reference for him. We chatted briefly about the end of things at our store, and he told me that I missed nothing but sadness and boredom. I’ve recently come across some pictures of other stores that were closing, and I found humor, resentment, and sorrow.

Closing Borders displays empty hangers with the sign "Invisibility Cloaks: 50 Percent Off"

Pottermania persisted until the bitter end.

Pictured here: The humor. Some Borders employees decided that, with nothing else to fill the shelves, they would attempt to make their customers laugh one last time. I know that when I went back to my store the last time, I wouldn’t be going in as an employee. I wasn’t going in as a customer either. I went in to say goodbye to friends, and to a place that, despite being sold out of invisibility cloaks, still held some lingering magic.

Borders employees list things they never told you.

And the transition from hilarity to bitterness begins...Sadly, this list is accurate.

Have you ever wondered if the booksellers are judging you for every question you ask them? 98% of the time, we were. The other 2% of the time we were too busy marveling that you were one of the smart ones, and trying to secretly signal our coworkers that we had someone who actually knew what they were doing in a bookstore.

Last, but certainly not least, is this image down here. Faint of heart, turn back now. This is the sorrow.

"I cannot live without books." And now my heart has been mercilessly removed...

I found this via an article critiquing this marvelous photograph. The composition of it is sheer beauty, the content is heartbreak for people like me. As the critic said, there is nothing quite so telling about this photo as the small “World History” sign on the floor below. Say what you want about big chains and corporations ruining bookstores. The loss of so many places so loved by so many is a genuine tragedy.

I’ll do whatever is within my power to maintain the written word. Yes, I said frequently that I was considering buying an eReader device of my own. Dear customers of mine from Borders, I lied to your faces. I was a salesman. I’m sorry, I truly am, but the lie I told you allowed me to survive. I don’t think that they’re all that bad, but I have no desire to replace my collection with an electronic device. Those of you who wanted one, you might have needed some convincing, and I got bonuses to my paycheck at Christmas for every one of the Kobos I sold to you. I thank you sincerely for providing me with the income I needed to get by. Those of you who didn’t want one? I share your feelings. I said a great many things at Borders when I knew that my managers were listening. I’ll keep my books. I’ll take yours too, if you don’t want them. I’ll construct my library from the cast-off fragments of civilization.

The smell of a book

Now you know the science behind it.

I will happily make this smell my cologne of choice for the rest of my life.  I will devote my life, much as I can, to the preservation of the printed page. “A man will give his life to the turning over of a collection of books.” Gene Wolfe wrote that in Shadow of the Torturer, a novel I need to finish at some point in the future. I would love to be a person like that. Wolfe, in the same scene, wrote that “Of the trail of ink, there is no end.” I’m sure that it may seem to some that books are reaching there end, but it is not this day. Nor will it be tomorrow. I’m going to dedicate as much of my time as I can to ensuring the survival of the book.

Opus, you may be a comic strip penguin, but at least your priorities are right.

I’ll keep my “obsolete pile of pressed tree pulp,” thank you.

Dealer

This one is another older piece. My apologies to those of you who have read it before. I’m not trying to bore you. I’m working through some of my backlog of stuff that I’ve been meaning to post. It’s called Dealer.

I am a dealer of the most

Dangerous kind, spreading the thing

That they fear above all else.

I lurk around corners, keeping

Watchful eye on this secret stash.

I’m not particular about who comes

To me for it anyway. I’m not in it

For the money. You don’t even have

To pay. As far as I’m concerned,

Everybody needs this shit. Capital

N.E.E.D.S. They just don’t

Always know it yet. They’ll know soon

Enough, though. Eventually everybody

Comes to me. I could bring the

City to its knees. I could do that.

Or I could do one better. People

Always talk and joke about ruling

The world some day, but they

Can’t do it without what I’m pushing.

Damn, I’m good at what I do.

I can hook you up in person,

Over the telephone, man, I even

Do online orders. Just watch me

Work; I’m a wizard with this shit.

I can work wonders. Just watch me.

You know the best part? You wouldn’t

Believe how easy this is to move.

I carry everywhere I go. I

Can use anywhere and everywhere,

And boy, do I. You can too, once you

Get started. It’s easy to get addicted to,

And while it’s never a good thing to

Get hooked on what you’re pushing,

My supply is unlimited. It’ll never

Run out, and it doesn’t cost me a damn thing.

I love what I do. Life is dangerous, and I

Love to live dangerously. Call it an

Occupational hazard. People like me live

Fiercely and die quickly, but not before fulfilling

Our life’s purpose. So here I am, spreading, expanding

My customer base, as it were. That’s why you’re all

Here, right? Good. Word’s getting out. Someday you will

All be standing where I am tonight. Someday you will

Remind everyone around you of the danger of what you

Do, and the power that you wield. Someday, you will

Join me, as I paraphrase a man, a member of a group of seven

Similarly magnificent men when I say “Mister, I deal in words.”

To Submit or Not to Submit?

That shouldn’t be a question, when the submission being pondered is a short story for a sci-fi magazine. I’ve been debating what to do with my writing of late, and it seems to me that the most productive thing to do would be to get my name out there. How can this be done? Other than my latest social media addiction, and the upcoming event of the year, I decided that I need to get published.

I’ve already been published, sort of. My senior year at school, I wrote a piece (due to deviantart policies, this one’s tagged with a mature language filter, so non-da members may not be able to see it) in a winterim class that ended up being used in a local publication, Active for Justice. It was just a little mini-newspaper kind of thing, and it included several pieces by my classmates as well. All the same, I’d gotten my name out to more people who hadn’t seen/heard it before. It was a start. I crave more than this.

The question before me now is this: Do I write something completely from scratch, or do I see how they feel about one of my existing (and as cliché-free as possible) microfiction pieces? It’s still open for debate, but I’d definitely love to get something done in advance of the dawn of NaNoWriMo. I am, by the way, registered for this. Be prepared to keep me on my toes when I’ve got my #writing thing going. 😀

Meanwhile, I’m still on the hunt for an actual writing job. Hahahaha. It’s a good thing I’ve still got my sense of humor. I’m trying to get in touch with some local publishers, but I’m not so good at the cold-calling thing. Hell, it took me all day today to gear up to call the Toyota dealer and order parts for my car. I’ll have her back to normal within a week. Stupid parts that there are only one or two of remaining in the country.

Not Pictured: The then-nonexistent drunken handiwork of the idiot who crashed into my parked car.

I’m reading The Shallows, by Nicholas Carr. Normally, I’m not one for non-fiction, but occasionally, something will catch my eye. In this case, the book is part of the All Pikes Peak Reads list for this year. Seeing as I’d already read The Hunger Games, I thought I should attempt to tackle another one of the books on the list. I saw a copy available yesterday, so here I am. It’s intriguing, honestly. The internet has become such a critical part of most of our lives that we can’t go more than a day or two without it. It’s integrated itself into the infrastructure of our country. Information is constantly available to us, and it’s kind of overwhelming. I grew up in a town where we had to use physical card catalogs for a good portion of my early education. I fell deeply in love with physical media, something that remains unchanged. I want to be a librarian, after all. Still, we also had a computer in our preschool. We had at least one in every classroom, K-12. What started as an option for playing games at recess when it would rain quickly became an all-purpose utility. Now I find it hard to go anywhere without taking my laptop, just in case. Carr is attempting to get his readers to realize that, for all its benefits, the internet may be making us stupid. We skim everything, and as Randall Munroe was quick to point out, we fall into the habit of believing anything we read. I’d highly recommend the book to anyone who feels that maybe, just maybe, they’ve come a little disconnected, despite always being jacked in.

And one for the nerds: D&D is going well. My necromancer is off to a great start. She’s already planning which big undead things she wants for minions in the near future. Most notably right now, is this guy.

"Hey guys! I found a puppy!"

That’s a charnel hound. It’s quite possibly my favorite D&D monster ever. It’s a dog. Made from corpses. That occasionally still move/yell for help. Yeah. And then there’s the fact that any time it kills something, it takes that body into itself, and heals damage by doing so. I love this game. I also found this today. I may have to share this list with anyone who has ever considered DMing/GMing a session of any tabletop role playing game. It could save some friendships.

Do you think I vary too much from topic to topic in each post? I dunno. Maybe, but if one 1,000 word post gets out there with everything I need to say, then it means that you’re saved from five separate 200 word posts. You should rejoice. You probably won’t, but you could at least consider it. My point being, that I had some other stuff I thought about saying here right now, but you’re getting off the hook at 800+ words.

Character Backstory #2: Jetsam

Jetsam:

Commissioned for duty on a ship in a Gnomish navy, Jetsam was designed for ship to ship battle and boarding parties. He quickly rose through the ranks of the other Warforged sailors and soldiers in a desire to prove his existence as worthwhile to his creators. His great dexterity, Mithral plating, and skill with a spiked chain made him feared by any foe who saw his vessel approaching. Within the first year of his “birth” in the foundries, Jetsam found himself promoted to the rank of first mate on board the flagship of his fleet.

Among the Warforged that comprised his fleet, Jetsam was fairly unique in his fondness for humanoid flair and style. He would frequently go to sea in a tricorne hat, long crimson coat, and oilskin boots. Jetsam enjoyed the expression on his opponent’s face when they realized for the first time that they were not in the presence of a human sailor. When the war ended, Jetsam learned that the world had little room for a living construct built for sea battles. Without a navy to serve in, Jetsam found himself metaphorically adrift.

After several months of wandering, providing odd services as a bodyguard or bouncer or enforcer or explorer, Jetsam encountered a band of pirates who were thrilled at the prospect of having a new hand that never needed food or sleep. Jetsam found new purpose in life, hunting around the world for treasure. Tragically, Jetsam’s captain and crew were lost following a great sea-battle. The lone survivor, Jetsam found himself adrift on an island far from his homeland, in a strange realm where none seemed to have heard his name or seen his fearsome sigil flying above the waves. Eventually, without an artificer for support and repair, Jetsam wandered into a cavern filled with towers of chests filled with gold and jewels. Stunned by this vast trove, Jetsam set himself as a watchman, in the hopes that someday another member of his loyal crew might stumble across his location. Perhaps he is there still…Rumors fly of a mysterious humanoid shape carrying an everburning torch staggering out of the ocean on moonless nights and slowly making its way back to the caves in the cliffs, though none have yet been bold enough to venture out to investigate it.

The Internet Vortex Has Me Now

Look down there at the very bottom of the page. It’s shiny/new. Click it.

Like it? Don’t like it? Either way, blame V.

Character Backstory #1

Seriously? Yet another awesome writing thing that I’ve never heard of before? This is getting ridiculous.

For those of you who have played D&D (or other roleplaying games), the concept of character creation is nothing new. You decide on a race, a class, and some equipment, and off you go on your first adventure. Sometimes you don’t have a lot of stuff planned for that character. You never know if she or he will even survive the first encounter with goblins in the woods, but you try anyway. Poor Jor. He never saw that hydra coming.

Anyway, I digress. Sometimes the character you create is something more than just a one-shot hero. Sometimes you want to feel like you know them better than your best friend. That’s when this kind of thing comes into play. About three years ago, my girlfriend’s brother decided he was going to create a D&D world where we could have multiple characters living in different areas. Then, regardless of where in the game world a session would be taking place, we’d have a character who would, theoretically, be close enough to the action to participate. As we would all be creating multiple characters, we decided one of the best things to do would be to establish a character backstory for everyone. Each player was tasked with crafting his or her characters and their individual histories. What was it that brought each one of them to this exact moment? That was our goal. I greatly enjoyed each of them, and I decided that it was high time that I share a little more of my nerdiness with you. Tonight, I present you with the story of Jack, a wandering scholar a la Indiana Jones.

Jack:

Forty years ago, there was a small group of adventurers who roamed the world of Taesos, combing dungeons and caverns and castles in far countries to gain the knowledge of ancient civilizations. A man named Dorn was one of their number, and upon his return to his home city of Arnes he married and founded a small private university in the large manor that he built with funds dicovered in his travels. It was here that he began to pore over the information that he and his friends had found. Dorn began to study alongside his students and found that with the right training, anyone could accomplish astounding deeds. His school quickly became known as a prestigious adventuring academy.

Not long after, Dorn and his wife welcomed the birth of twin sons, Jack and Alexi. In an unpleasant turn of events of which not even Dorn know’s the truth, Dorn’s wife fled Arnes with Dorn’s best friend, Georg, and with Alexi, the elder twin. Dorn was left to raise Jack alone.

Jack’s childhood was far from dull, however. Living in an academy that was made to train adventurers was an intense experience. Jack inherited his father’s brilliance and trained every day to increase his knowledge and his skills in all fields. When he reached the age of eighteen, he set forth with a group of friends to seek out his long-lost brother, Alexi. After searching for many months, Jack finally stumbled upon his brother’s trail, deep in the mountains on Nyord’Wrend. Georg, it seemed, was a powerful illusionist who had sensed a dormant power inside Alexi’s mind and convinced the boy’s mother to leave her husband and younger son and join him in a quest for power.

Georg and Alexi slaughtered all of Jack’s companions and in what may have been a brief moment of compassion for his brother, Alexi teleported Jack out of Georg’s hands and back to Nirruna, wiping his memories of Alexi’s hiding place in the process.

Jack returned home distraught that he has failed to rescue his twin. He set about studying furiously that he might find some way of overcoming Georg and freeing his brother, and someday reunite his broken family. Now he is ready. He has set forth from Arnes once more to right the wrongs and dispose of all in his way, regardless of the cost.