Alright, listen here. I like free stuff, YOU like free stuff. I like stories where the character will face life and death for family, YOU like stories where characters will face life and death for family! So quit monkeying around reading this, and go get my best selling short story "NOW AND THEN", available only on Amazon!
I MEAN IT! Stop looking at funny pictures of kittens in pirate outfits and pinning it to your board. Go get the story while it's free you pirate kitten loving ninny!!
Just kidding, those little peg legged furry bundles of joy are so gosh darn cute.... errrrr, I mean, GO GET THE STORY!
FOR FREEEE! RIGHT HERE!
Friday, October 12, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
"NOW AND THEN" by Nicholas May FREE Oct 12th & 13th ONLY!
Of all the stories I have put out there, and the ones I still have up my sleeve that only a few have seen, there is one that outsells them all 10 to 1. "NOW AND THEN" only available at Amazon, will be FREE this Friday and Saturday, October 12th & 13th ONLY!
Here is the Amazon Synopsis:
WARNING! GRAPHIC (i.e. Realistic) VIOLENCE! How far will a man go when he finds his brother in trouble with a local mob boss, and how much of himself will he give up in order to save him?
When a man finds his brother being beaten and threatened with death by a local mob boss and his thugs, the man is forced to call up skills he possesses but does not like to use in order to save his brother's life. When he is forced to pit his skills in an illegal cage fight against a vicious killer to save his brother, the man, and the men that dared to threaten his brother, find out what happens when you test a brother's love.
But here's the deal. If you like MMA, you will like this story. If you like Fighting, you will like this story. If you like Brotherly Bonds, you will like this story. If you like seeing bad guys get their asses handed to them by no nonsense good guys that are even scarier than the bad guys, you will like this story! You know why?
BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL SICK PUPPIES, AND I LOVE IT!!!
So this Friday and Saturday, October 12th and 13th, go to Amazon and download a fast paced, ass kicking, punch you in the face and hope you had it coming type of story to read for the weekend!
HAPPY READING! (Or Else.)
Here is the Amazon Synopsis:
WARNING! GRAPHIC (i.e. Realistic) VIOLENCE! How far will a man go when he finds his brother in trouble with a local mob boss, and how much of himself will he give up in order to save him?
When a man finds his brother being beaten and threatened with death by a local mob boss and his thugs, the man is forced to call up skills he possesses but does not like to use in order to save his brother's life. When he is forced to pit his skills in an illegal cage fight against a vicious killer to save his brother, the man, and the men that dared to threaten his brother, find out what happens when you test a brother's love.
But here's the deal. If you like MMA, you will like this story. If you like Fighting, you will like this story. If you like Brotherly Bonds, you will like this story. If you like seeing bad guys get their asses handed to them by no nonsense good guys that are even scarier than the bad guys, you will like this story! You know why?
BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL SICK PUPPIES, AND I LOVE IT!!!
So this Friday and Saturday, October 12th and 13th, go to Amazon and download a fast paced, ass kicking, punch you in the face and hope you had it coming type of story to read for the weekend!
HAPPY READING! (Or Else.)
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Experience... The real building block of life.
Time can be broken down into many different categories. Years, weeks, days,
hours, seconds, hell even nanoseconds! But should a life be broken down by
those same categories?
I have been alive for 39 years and 11 days, meaning I am 341,640 hours old. Sure tells you alot about me doesn't it? You can just put me in the 300K to 400K LifeSpan Box on the shelf. Wait, you mean they don't have those?
Life isn't just a compilation of the minutes you've been alive, but of the blocks of time in which you were building certain experiences.
There is the 15 years that I was in school, that was Student Nick.
There is the 7 years I was working at and managing a Formal Wear Store, that was Formal Nick.
There was the 30 years spent as a fighter, either in the martial arts, in the streets, in the ring or on the mats, or in my spirit, that was Fighter Nick (He could beat up those other Nicks.)
There is the 13 1/2 years that I have been a Father, now I'm just Dad. (This Nick is old and broken, and would beat the hell out of Fighter Nick if he ever harmed my children. This Nick would destroy the world to protect them.)
There was the 17 years I spent as a married man. That was Married Nick, and the combination of both of our mistakes, stubbornness, and lack of communication that ended Married Nick.
Like time segments, these blocks of experience are what we add up to compile the person that we become to those around us, and are how we are remembered. So when we are doing stupid things, or doing nothing at all, we need to look around and realize this is the crap filler, the stuff in hot dogs you don't want to know about, the additives and preservatives we ignore because if we knew what was in something we would be disgusted by it. So why do we ourselves allow our time to be filled with these crap fillers and wasted moments when we could be doing something meaningful that actually adds to how well we are put together once our blocks of experience are compiled?
Trust me, I am as guilty as anyone. I sit here in pain, KNOWING this is when I am supposed to be writing, but instead I find things to watch online because it hurts so bad to focus. But nobody will remember how many episodes of a TV show I watched. Nobody will know how many movies I've seen in my life. They will remember the experience blocks. They will remember the moments that I touched someone. My children will remember the lessons I taught them, the hugs I gave them, the laughs I brought out of them. My friends are gone for the most part, but I bet they will remember me, because I tried to be a good friend, and because there were times when I failed and lost them because of it... but I will be remembered, for good or bad.
Things like Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, Texting, have all given us reasons to make most of our lives now nothing but the filler, the hidden stuff in hot dogs you pretend is really pork or beef. I wish I could go back and just be Happily Married Nick, and change things, knowing what I know now. Never go on the Internet, when I could have just wrestled with my kids, or read them a book. If they were here now, I guarantee you I'd be surrounded by them, because we all know how fragile and important time is now.
Who knows if I'll defeat the odds and make it through the next year. Who knows if some miracle will happen and I last another ten or twenty. I just want to stop piling filler onto the experiences that made me ME, so when people look back they don't have to dig through the rubbish to get to the Man.
Let me be a lesson to all of you. I had talent that I wasted. I had skills that I lost. I had love that I took for granted. I physically hurt people because we had to prove who was the baddest. I emotionally hurt people because I had to prove I was right. I've been emotionally hurt by people who had to prove THEY were right. I hurt every single day because of squandered abilities years ago when I was young and stupid. I had an IQ that could have guaranteed a full ride anywhere I wanted, but I wanted to run the streets instead. I was an idiot.
But I also had wonderful children who are in my heart every second, even though I see them only once a week or so. I once danced to a love song, with the love of my life in my arms, one ear bud in my ear, and one in hers, as the rest of the world had no idea we were an entire world of our own. I've written stories that will be around long after I am gone. They will still be available after my children's children are gone, I created things out of Nothing! I have done wonderful things.
Building blocks of experience. That is life. Not years. Not money. Not power. Experience. You are the only one that can decide if they are good or bad. All of the bad experiences I've had, now that I look back, only I could have put me into a position to have them. So love with all you have, live every second of every day, instead of just adding in more filler.
I have been alive for 39 years and 11 days, meaning I am 341,640 hours old. Sure tells you alot about me doesn't it? You can just put me in the 300K to 400K LifeSpan Box on the shelf. Wait, you mean they don't have those?
Life isn't just a compilation of the minutes you've been alive, but of the blocks of time in which you were building certain experiences.
There is the 15 years that I was in school, that was Student Nick.
There is the 7 years I was working at and managing a Formal Wear Store, that was Formal Nick.
There was the 30 years spent as a fighter, either in the martial arts, in the streets, in the ring or on the mats, or in my spirit, that was Fighter Nick (He could beat up those other Nicks.)
There is the 13 1/2 years that I have been a Father, now I'm just Dad. (This Nick is old and broken, and would beat the hell out of Fighter Nick if he ever harmed my children. This Nick would destroy the world to protect them.)
There was the 17 years I spent as a married man. That was Married Nick, and the combination of both of our mistakes, stubbornness, and lack of communication that ended Married Nick.
Like time segments, these blocks of experience are what we add up to compile the person that we become to those around us, and are how we are remembered. So when we are doing stupid things, or doing nothing at all, we need to look around and realize this is the crap filler, the stuff in hot dogs you don't want to know about, the additives and preservatives we ignore because if we knew what was in something we would be disgusted by it. So why do we ourselves allow our time to be filled with these crap fillers and wasted moments when we could be doing something meaningful that actually adds to how well we are put together once our blocks of experience are compiled?
Trust me, I am as guilty as anyone. I sit here in pain, KNOWING this is when I am supposed to be writing, but instead I find things to watch online because it hurts so bad to focus. But nobody will remember how many episodes of a TV show I watched. Nobody will know how many movies I've seen in my life. They will remember the experience blocks. They will remember the moments that I touched someone. My children will remember the lessons I taught them, the hugs I gave them, the laughs I brought out of them. My friends are gone for the most part, but I bet they will remember me, because I tried to be a good friend, and because there were times when I failed and lost them because of it... but I will be remembered, for good or bad.
Things like Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, Texting, have all given us reasons to make most of our lives now nothing but the filler, the hidden stuff in hot dogs you pretend is really pork or beef. I wish I could go back and just be Happily Married Nick, and change things, knowing what I know now. Never go on the Internet, when I could have just wrestled with my kids, or read them a book. If they were here now, I guarantee you I'd be surrounded by them, because we all know how fragile and important time is now.
Who knows if I'll defeat the odds and make it through the next year. Who knows if some miracle will happen and I last another ten or twenty. I just want to stop piling filler onto the experiences that made me ME, so when people look back they don't have to dig through the rubbish to get to the Man.
Let me be a lesson to all of you. I had talent that I wasted. I had skills that I lost. I had love that I took for granted. I physically hurt people because we had to prove who was the baddest. I emotionally hurt people because I had to prove I was right. I've been emotionally hurt by people who had to prove THEY were right. I hurt every single day because of squandered abilities years ago when I was young and stupid. I had an IQ that could have guaranteed a full ride anywhere I wanted, but I wanted to run the streets instead. I was an idiot.
But I also had wonderful children who are in my heart every second, even though I see them only once a week or so. I once danced to a love song, with the love of my life in my arms, one ear bud in my ear, and one in hers, as the rest of the world had no idea we were an entire world of our own. I've written stories that will be around long after I am gone. They will still be available after my children's children are gone, I created things out of Nothing! I have done wonderful things.
Building blocks of experience. That is life. Not years. Not money. Not power. Experience. You are the only one that can decide if they are good or bad. All of the bad experiences I've had, now that I look back, only I could have put me into a position to have them. So love with all you have, live every second of every day, instead of just adding in more filler.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Review of Dead Heart by Brandon Ford
Dead Heart by Brandon FordMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
At first I was kind of repulsed by where I thought this story was going. Even as I was about to get grossed out, I did recognize that I was being grossed out by exceptional writing. It was believable, and very well done. The truly scary thing is, I think the scheme going on in this book is probably really going on all over the place, which makes me want to be cremated instantly.
View all my reviews
Sunday, September 9, 2012
5 Stars for A Part To Play
A Part to Play by Jennifer L. FryMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
A Part To Play" is a very strong debut by Jennifer L. Fry, that at first look might look like another of many coming of age, teenage girl novels, but Fry quickly brings life to her main character, and makes us feel the very real pain of losing a family member. Fry opens a window into the family dynamic after it has been torn apart by grief, and fifteen-year old Lucy is the only one strong enough to stand up and move on through life, even though she doesn't realize that she is the strong one. It isn't until a very passionate, and very unhealthy, romance with a trouble musician that Lucy realizes where her strength comes from. Is it from the muse she has found in this talented, but tortured soul? Is it from inside herself? Is it from the memory of her sister, who always stood by Lucy's side? Will Lucy be able to be the strength that brings her family back from the brink?
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and felt the pain when Lucy thought of her family and of her loss. I knew the joy in her heart when she was in love and was in the arms of the only person she could think about. Jennifer L. Fry brought out real emotions in me, the reader, and that takes a skilled writer to do. So debut novel or not, Fry is a name to watch and her characters are people you won't want to say goodbye to!
View all my reviews
Monday, September 3, 2012
Buy a story.... get a story FREE! Can't beat that with a stick!
ATTENTION SHOPPERS! FOR THE NEXT 10 MINUTES, IN AISLE 5..... Oh wait, I don't work at that store anymore.
Ahh well, the same principle applies. THERE IS A SALE AFOOT!
Until October 3rd, if you buy "The Smoldering Man" for only 99cents from Smashwords.com and leave a review, I will then send you a coupon for a free copy of my latest short story "Management - A Zombie Satire"!
What you may not realize though, is that exclusively on Smashwords, "Management" contains the first three chapters of my book "Maze of The Blue Rose" - Book One of my Trouble Meets The May Boys series.
Here is all you have to do. Sign up at Smashwords (It's free and completely painless! Also, if you love books, you will be glad you signed up anyway!), buy The Smoldering Man, leave a review, and I will send you a coupon for the free story! It's that easy!
Remember, this offer is only good through October 3rd, so get going! Namaste!
Ahh well, the same principle applies. THERE IS A SALE AFOOT!
Until October 3rd, if you buy "The Smoldering Man" for only 99cents from Smashwords.com and leave a review, I will then send you a coupon for a free copy of my latest short story "Management - A Zombie Satire"!
What you may not realize though, is that exclusively on Smashwords, "Management" contains the first three chapters of my book "Maze of The Blue Rose" - Book One of my Trouble Meets The May Boys series.
Here is all you have to do. Sign up at Smashwords (It's free and completely painless! Also, if you love books, you will be glad you signed up anyway!), buy The Smoldering Man, leave a review, and I will send you a coupon for the free story! It's that easy!
Remember, this offer is only good through October 3rd, so get going! Namaste!
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Out with the old, In with the new!
As of this beautiful sunny morning, the 30th of August in the year 2012 Anno Domini, my short story "Management - A Zombie Satire" went on sale for the Kindle and Nooks on Amazon and Barnes & Noble, respectively.
2005 was a year that I was "Un-bottling" as they say. I was just pumping out story after story. It was during this year that I wrote "Management" and it was the first story that someone suggested, well, umm, that I might not be right in the head.
I'm not going to lie.... it was the best compliment I'd had so far! My brain doesn't work like normal peoples (thank goodness!) and that's why I'm able to put out a kids book, and then a horror story, and then an over the top disgustingly hilarious story like Management. I don't want to be normal! I want people to read it, laugh, and then look at me and say "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???". If they do that, then I did my job.
You can check out Management - A Zombie Satire at AMAZON or at BARNES & NOBLE
Now onto the new! I started writing a YA novel years ago titled "The Final Summer of Innocence" and it will be a full novel, and IMO my best work to date BY FAR! It's the story I've wanted to tell since the first day I started writing, and have thought about it every day. I'll keep you all in the loop, but it's going to take awhile.
Thank you O' Readers of My Words, and as they say back in my home town "Oh shit! Here comes Nick again!"
2005 was a year that I was "Un-bottling" as they say. I was just pumping out story after story. It was during this year that I wrote "Management" and it was the first story that someone suggested, well, umm, that I might not be right in the head.
I'm not going to lie.... it was the best compliment I'd had so far! My brain doesn't work like normal peoples (thank goodness!) and that's why I'm able to put out a kids book, and then a horror story, and then an over the top disgustingly hilarious story like Management. I don't want to be normal! I want people to read it, laugh, and then look at me and say "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???". If they do that, then I did my job.
You can check out Management - A Zombie Satire at AMAZON or at BARNES & NOBLE
Now onto the new! I started writing a YA novel years ago titled "The Final Summer of Innocence" and it will be a full novel, and IMO my best work to date BY FAR! It's the story I've wanted to tell since the first day I started writing, and have thought about it every day. I'll keep you all in the loop, but it's going to take awhile.
Thank you O' Readers of My Words, and as they say back in my home town "Oh shit! Here comes Nick again!"
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Good book amidst ridiculous smoking glorification for teens
Looking for Alaska by John GreenMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
I like John Green. I like his books. I like his videos. I like his characters. However, the characters in this book who revolve more around the need to smoke than anything else are part of a bigger problem in teen fiction. We as writers have an opportunity to reach teens. It's a rare opportunity that we as parents barely have. Kids listen more to characters than they listen to us as parents, and when the characters they keep reading about are all smokers, and are pushing other new kids INTO smoking, and the new kids GIVE IN to the peer pressure of smoking, why not just have a damned coupon for cigarettes in the back of your book? It would help the kids not cut as much into their allowance when they go buy cigarettes. Obviously their allowances aren't very big, so that coupon could sure help them out. Less money on smokes, means more money on the books that tell them how cool smoking is! So it seems like a good idea for the author.
OK, rant over. I did like the book, and the characters were for the most part believable. I can't really say how I wish characters had gotten what they wanted without spoiling the ending. I definitely didn't see the ending coming, and that's good writing so I give Mr. Green his props. I'll continue reading his books, as long as he doesn't write any gateway books into characters that all think Heroin is cool.
View all my reviews
Monday, August 27, 2012
Quick Sale and then The Big Boy
Currently (Well, once I'm done blogging that is. Post-Currently? Anyway...) I am revising and creating a cover for my short story "Management - A Zombie Satire" which takes a comedic, and sometimes over the top grotesquely and vomitously insane, look at the way slackers can sometimes rise to the top, while the hard workers are stuck at the bottom. Also, when the two live together, and one is a zombie, shit just gets out of control!
After that is finished and on sale, I will pick up the YA Novel I started a few years back "The Final Summer of Innocence" and overcome my fears and actually write the damn thing. It is the offspring of a 27,000 word zombie novella I wrote years ago that had two characters in it that deserved better. They deserved to live without zombies. They deserved to grow up in school like normal kids, come of age like other kids, get the shit beat out of them by bullies like other kids. There are more horrors for a teenager in high school than a zombie could ever dream of. It's probably going to take me damn near a year to write it, but I'm going to write it.
(Although, my 8 year old daughter Alayna may force me, physically, to write my short story "The Midnight Clown" because she wont leave me alone until its done.)
Anyway, just a heads up, O' Readers of My Words, there is a short story coming this week, and within the year my book I've dreamed about for years. Wish me luck! Namaste!
After that is finished and on sale, I will pick up the YA Novel I started a few years back "The Final Summer of Innocence" and overcome my fears and actually write the damn thing. It is the offspring of a 27,000 word zombie novella I wrote years ago that had two characters in it that deserved better. They deserved to live without zombies. They deserved to grow up in school like normal kids, come of age like other kids, get the shit beat out of them by bullies like other kids. There are more horrors for a teenager in high school than a zombie could ever dream of. It's probably going to take me damn near a year to write it, but I'm going to write it.
(Although, my 8 year old daughter Alayna may force me, physically, to write my short story "The Midnight Clown" because she wont leave me alone until its done.)
Anyway, just a heads up, O' Readers of My Words, there is a short story coming this week, and within the year my book I've dreamed about for years. Wish me luck! Namaste!
Friday, August 24, 2012
Halloween is running around FREE!!! (Catch it quick!)
Sure, Halloween isn't quite here yet, but author Roy Hudson has done us a huge favor and brought my favorite holiday here a bit early with his collection of short stories titled "Halloween Tales" on Smashwords, and he's doing it for FREE for a short time with the coupon code VK24N
Read about:
"Last Halloween," in which the prior year's Halloween prank led to a death, and someone is getting revenge in the present.
"Mirror Madness," in which a group of twisted friends make their own horrifying Halloween attraction.
"The Blog of Eternal Funk," in which a case of cyber bullying earns a frightening and final comeuppance.
"Count The Roadkill," in which two college roommates on the drive home for the Halloween weekend leads to the revelation of a local legend.
It's never too early for Halloween, but it may be too late to read some great stories if you don't get a move on! Check it out right HERE on Smashwords!
Read about:
"Last Halloween," in which the prior year's Halloween prank led to a death, and someone is getting revenge in the present.
"Mirror Madness," in which a group of twisted friends make their own horrifying Halloween attraction.
"The Blog of Eternal Funk," in which a case of cyber bullying earns a frightening and final comeuppance.
"Count The Roadkill," in which two college roommates on the drive home for the Halloween weekend leads to the revelation of a local legend.
It's never too early for Halloween, but it may be too late to read some great stories if you don't get a move on! Check it out right HERE on Smashwords!
Sunday, August 19, 2012
FREE STORY OF YOUR CHOICE!
As probably three people out of the hundreds of Facebook friends know by now, I finally achieved my goal of making it possible to buy my stories directly from my website. All you have to do is have a Paypal account, and once the order is completed a PDF version of the story will be emailed to your account within 24 hours at the latest. (Usually within minutes.)
BUT HERE'S SOMETHING TO MAKE YOU AS HAPPY AS I AM RIGHT NOW!
The first five people to buy Maze of the Blue Rose, Book One of my Trouble Meets the May Boys series, can pick one of the short stories for FREE! When your book is delivered, you will be notified which number you were, and if you are in the first five just let me know which story you want and I will send it to you immediately.
Now, just visit my website NICHOLASMAY.US and check out the selection of available stories in the Library section of the site.
As always, I thank you for your support as I follow my dream! Namaste!
BUT HERE'S SOMETHING TO MAKE YOU AS HAPPY AS I AM RIGHT NOW!
The first five people to buy Maze of the Blue Rose, Book One of my Trouble Meets the May Boys series, can pick one of the short stories for FREE! When your book is delivered, you will be notified which number you were, and if you are in the first five just let me know which story you want and I will send it to you immediately.
Now, just visit my website NICHOLASMAY.US and check out the selection of available stories in the Library section of the site.
As always, I thank you for your support as I follow my dream! Namaste!
Friday, August 17, 2012
FREE SHORT STORY! August 18th, 19th, and 20th!
Hey everyone, August 18th, 19th, and 20th my short story "NOW and THEN" will be FREE on Amazon!
Check it out, and if you like it, I'd greatly appreciate it if you could click the "Like button" on the amazon page, and leave a short review. Reviews equal sales! So I'd greatly appreciate it!
WARNING! GRAPHIC (i.e. Realistic) VIOLENCE! How far will a man go when he finds his brother in trouble with a local mob boss, and how much of himself will he give up in order to save him?
When a man finds his brother being beaten and threatened with death by a local mob boss and his thugs, the man is forced to call up skills he possesses but does not like to use in order to save his brother's life. When he is forced to pit his skills in an illegal cage fight against a vicious killer to save his brother, the man, and the men that dared to threaten his brother, find out what happens when you test a brother's love.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
OMG People can subscribe to me???
What is this world coming to, when there is an option for people to sign up and have my insane blathering sent straight to them?? It means the world is evolving, you monkeys! Finally, the world is realizing that I AM RIGHT, and YOU WERE ALL WRONG, well no you were still right that I'm insane but at least my insanity can be subscribed to now.
So the world is finally catching on.
BTW.... free stuff coming soon. Keep your eyes peeled!
So the world is finally catching on.
BTW.... free stuff coming soon. Keep your eyes peeled!
Monday, August 13, 2012
The Crying Scarecrow of The Missed Collaboration
Many years ago, back when Ellen Hopkins was new on the scene with her best-selling debut Crank, I was invited to a very small writer's group that she was a member of and I loved it. Every single person there was so nice, and so helpful, and because they were so accomplished I felt like I was just a kid getting to hang out with a group of all my favorite Aunts and Uncles that normally wouldn't let a kid hang out with them as they did grownup activities.
I felt out of my league!
It was during this time that I really started pumping out short stories (Many of which are real stinkers, now that I look back on them.) and kind of picking at the edges of my abilities. I wrote my zombie novella that nobody has read since then. I also wrote book one of my Trouble Meets The May Boys series, "Maze of The Blue Rose".
Ellen, The Great and Powerful as I think of her, read it and instantly loved it (She even was gracious enough to provide a blurb for it once I finally started selling it!). Sure, she made some suggestions (Which of course were exactly the right direction to go.), but my first book was completed, and I started on book two almost immediately. (While it is still being written, we both agreed it is better than the first.)
I was on fire! I was really writing, in a group of people so far out of my league they had to read my stories with telescopes. Well one day, a writer I'll just call Bob threw out a story idea that I fell in love with. It was around Halloween, and the story dealt with scarecrows, which I've always had a fascination with. Bob knew this, and came to me with the idea of the two of us collaborating on the story together for two reasons: 1) I loved the idea so much and loved scarecrows, and 2) He said our minds put together would make the story better than anything either of us alone could come up with.
Of course, I INSTANTLY DECLINED!!!! Why? Well it should be obvious. He would know I was a fraud! Sure, Ellen Hopkins, who was quickly becoming a worldwide star in front our eyes believed in me and swore up and down that I was going to be a star some day. Yeah, the other members loved my stories. Whatever! What they didn't realize was that I was faking it!
That's right! I was faking it! I wasn't really a writer! I mean, how could I be? I wasn't famous. I'd never been published. I was terrified every single time I sat down in front of an empty page. How could I collaborate with this writer that I felt was so much better than me and basically pull back the curtain and embarrass them for all of the praise they'd heaped on me during that time? I was terrified that they would figure out that I was just a scared guy with a big imagination and no idea where these stories came from, or how I got them down on paper.
It was one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made in this very small writing career of mine. There is a scarecrow out there crying right now that Bob and I never imagined up and gave a voice to. Never set him on his adventure (or on fire, given the nature of our imaginations). I passed up on the opportunity to write with someone I looked up to, passed up on an opportunity to work with someone who could have improved not only my confidence, but my skills as well. All because I was afraid, and I didn't realize that all writers are.
I know that now. The scariest thing in the world to one of us is a blank page. Not because something might not come out, but possibly because of what DOES come out! Ellen pushed me for years to seek publication, and I hemmed and hawed out of sheer terror that someone was going to tell me what I now know is the truth "You're terrified. You have no idea what you're doing, and you're making it up as you go along. YOU ARE A WRITER!"
I'm sorry Bob. I'm sorry Scarecrow (Although we probably would have killed you.). I'm sorry to myself, for passing up the opportunity to better my craft, and gain the confidence I needed to truly believe in myself, and put my skills to work.
So now I know. One or two of your friends like your stories? You might be a writer, or at least a good story teller (There is a difference.) Or they might just be really nice friends. When a few good writers like your stories, (and Hell, want to work with you!!!) then you're a writer dammit.
If I never sell another story, I'll still be a writer. Because Ellen always wanted to read what I wrote. Because Bob wanted to put HIS story idea in MY hands. I am a writer.
I felt out of my league!
It was during this time that I really started pumping out short stories (Many of which are real stinkers, now that I look back on them.) and kind of picking at the edges of my abilities. I wrote my zombie novella that nobody has read since then. I also wrote book one of my Trouble Meets The May Boys series, "Maze of The Blue Rose".
Ellen, The Great and Powerful as I think of her, read it and instantly loved it (She even was gracious enough to provide a blurb for it once I finally started selling it!). Sure, she made some suggestions (Which of course were exactly the right direction to go.), but my first book was completed, and I started on book two almost immediately. (While it is still being written, we both agreed it is better than the first.)
I was on fire! I was really writing, in a group of people so far out of my league they had to read my stories with telescopes. Well one day, a writer I'll just call Bob threw out a story idea that I fell in love with. It was around Halloween, and the story dealt with scarecrows, which I've always had a fascination with. Bob knew this, and came to me with the idea of the two of us collaborating on the story together for two reasons: 1) I loved the idea so much and loved scarecrows, and 2) He said our minds put together would make the story better than anything either of us alone could come up with.
Of course, I INSTANTLY DECLINED!!!! Why? Well it should be obvious. He would know I was a fraud! Sure, Ellen Hopkins, who was quickly becoming a worldwide star in front our eyes believed in me and swore up and down that I was going to be a star some day. Yeah, the other members loved my stories. Whatever! What they didn't realize was that I was faking it!
That's right! I was faking it! I wasn't really a writer! I mean, how could I be? I wasn't famous. I'd never been published. I was terrified every single time I sat down in front of an empty page. How could I collaborate with this writer that I felt was so much better than me and basically pull back the curtain and embarrass them for all of the praise they'd heaped on me during that time? I was terrified that they would figure out that I was just a scared guy with a big imagination and no idea where these stories came from, or how I got them down on paper.
It was one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made in this very small writing career of mine. There is a scarecrow out there crying right now that Bob and I never imagined up and gave a voice to. Never set him on his adventure (or on fire, given the nature of our imaginations). I passed up on the opportunity to write with someone I looked up to, passed up on an opportunity to work with someone who could have improved not only my confidence, but my skills as well. All because I was afraid, and I didn't realize that all writers are.
I know that now. The scariest thing in the world to one of us is a blank page. Not because something might not come out, but possibly because of what DOES come out! Ellen pushed me for years to seek publication, and I hemmed and hawed out of sheer terror that someone was going to tell me what I now know is the truth "You're terrified. You have no idea what you're doing, and you're making it up as you go along. YOU ARE A WRITER!"
I'm sorry Bob. I'm sorry Scarecrow (Although we probably would have killed you.). I'm sorry to myself, for passing up the opportunity to better my craft, and gain the confidence I needed to truly believe in myself, and put my skills to work.
So now I know. One or two of your friends like your stories? You might be a writer, or at least a good story teller (There is a difference.) Or they might just be really nice friends. When a few good writers like your stories, (and Hell, want to work with you!!!) then you're a writer dammit.
If I never sell another story, I'll still be a writer. Because Ellen always wanted to read what I wrote. Because Bob wanted to put HIS story idea in MY hands. I am a writer.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Teach your young boys to read!
Parents, teach your young boys to read. Male authors were once little
boys who loved to read, and they are becoming a huge minority.
The literary world needs more of Matheson's "I am Legend, King's "The Stand", Hemingway's "The Old Man and the Sea", any Jack Reacher story by Lee Child, and almost anything by the late, great Robert E. Parker. It needs far less trash like 50 Shades of Grey, and Twilight. Two series that would never have been published back in the day when merits and talent made your book famous, instead of the "well, all my friends are talking about it, so I have to read it too." Popularized and unoriginal smut has the country buzzing, and it's ridiculous that the majority of readers are so easily swayed into reading this swill instead of looking at the world outside of sparking vampires *sprarking? really? how did you sell a single copy?* and submissive women giving into the demands of stereotypical male pigs.
The literary world needs more of Matheson's "I am Legend, King's "The Stand", Hemingway's "The Old Man and the Sea", any Jack Reacher story by Lee Child, and almost anything by the late, great Robert E. Parker. It needs far less trash like 50 Shades of Grey, and Twilight. Two series that would never have been published back in the day when merits and talent made your book famous, instead of the "well, all my friends are talking about it, so I have to read it too." Popularized and unoriginal smut has the country buzzing, and it's ridiculous that the majority of readers are so easily swayed into reading this swill instead of looking at the world outside of sparking vampires *sprarking? really? how did you sell a single copy?* and submissive women giving into the demands of stereotypical male pigs.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Distractions, how bad thou sucketh.
Distractions. My biggest damned weakness.
Let me list a few.
Pain - I think you can probably tell that pain is my number one distraction. It's hard to concentrate and focus when the pain in your body is so overwhelming it's like beings trapped to the pole of an air raid siren that is going off 24/7 and getting louder every day. I was hoping for the necessary hip replacement that was needed 4 years ago by the hot shot young gun doctor who talked me into an expensive bullshit surgery only he performs, and when it failed and made me worse, he basically hid in his office until my insurance ran out. Coward. I might be seeing you in a courtroom some day buddy. Better than a back alley, trust me. You think malpractice lawyers are vicious!
TV - I'm running out of TV shows to watch re-runs of, and without cable pretty soon I wont have a choice but to write. So that's good. I have discovered some great shows though! Weeds, Californication (Hank Moody you're the man!), etc have made me want to bring a water cooler into work just so we could have a central place to discuss the shit I've just watched.
Work - It's flat out killing me. The hip situation is made alot worse by the job I'm in, and I need to figure out if Im just going to plow straight ahead until I drop in the field and they ship me off to the glue factory, or jump the fence and find a job that doesn't actively take 2 years from my life per shift.
Divorce - I just want it over. I want my ex to find some good guy to finally make her happy where I couldn't, because a happy mom equals happy kids, and that's what its all about. It will be a weight off of my shoulders as well. Three more months, that's one more distraction down.
Supreme Loneliness - I hate this little apartment, with its shitty neighbors and cheap motel ambiance. On a daily basis I say hello to some gang-banger who doesn't reply back and I'm tempted to just curb stomp him for failing to recognize someone with more willingness to just do some damned evil shit to his sorry ass. Someone says hi, say hi back ya shitbrick.
Depression - The meds nearly killed me, so I'm stuck with it. I'm still here, and I'm doing the best I can. Maybe if I found someone who didn't tell me for more than a decade what a waste of space I was, I might be a little happier.
Low Book Sales - Just got a great blurb from the incredibly talented and popular Ellen Hopkins, who I just love to death. Hopefully that will give my career a shot in its ass, and give me one as well. I need a swift kick to the keester for even writing this when I'm supposed to be finishing a story.
So I'm working on my distractions... working them out of the equation, and then it will just be me, tons of free time, and a keyboard that cries to me at night that its being under utilized. (I usually tell it to shut up, because it might mean I'm insane.) Once they're all gone, we will see if I'm a writer or just some guy with a big imagination, but a burned out shell not able to put it to use. I really want to discover I'm a writer.
Let me list a few.
- Pain
- PAIN!!! (some days I just want to cut my leg off, some days I want to hang myself, hence small pain, BIG PAIN)
- Old Re-runs of shows I never knew could be so damned entertaining.
- Reading (ok, this one is more research, so I'll let you slide with a warning)
- Divorce
- Work
- Supreme loneliness
- Depression
- BIG MOTHEREFFIN PAIN
- Frustration with low sales combined with freakishly positive reviews that nobody will actually put in writing, no matter how much I stress that it will help my sales.
Pain - I think you can probably tell that pain is my number one distraction. It's hard to concentrate and focus when the pain in your body is so overwhelming it's like beings trapped to the pole of an air raid siren that is going off 24/7 and getting louder every day. I was hoping for the necessary hip replacement that was needed 4 years ago by the hot shot young gun doctor who talked me into an expensive bullshit surgery only he performs, and when it failed and made me worse, he basically hid in his office until my insurance ran out. Coward. I might be seeing you in a courtroom some day buddy. Better than a back alley, trust me. You think malpractice lawyers are vicious!
TV - I'm running out of TV shows to watch re-runs of, and without cable pretty soon I wont have a choice but to write. So that's good. I have discovered some great shows though! Weeds, Californication (Hank Moody you're the man!), etc have made me want to bring a water cooler into work just so we could have a central place to discuss the shit I've just watched.
Work - It's flat out killing me. The hip situation is made alot worse by the job I'm in, and I need to figure out if Im just going to plow straight ahead until I drop in the field and they ship me off to the glue factory, or jump the fence and find a job that doesn't actively take 2 years from my life per shift.
Divorce - I just want it over. I want my ex to find some good guy to finally make her happy where I couldn't, because a happy mom equals happy kids, and that's what its all about. It will be a weight off of my shoulders as well. Three more months, that's one more distraction down.
Supreme Loneliness - I hate this little apartment, with its shitty neighbors and cheap motel ambiance. On a daily basis I say hello to some gang-banger who doesn't reply back and I'm tempted to just curb stomp him for failing to recognize someone with more willingness to just do some damned evil shit to his sorry ass. Someone says hi, say hi back ya shitbrick.
Depression - The meds nearly killed me, so I'm stuck with it. I'm still here, and I'm doing the best I can. Maybe if I found someone who didn't tell me for more than a decade what a waste of space I was, I might be a little happier.
Low Book Sales - Just got a great blurb from the incredibly talented and popular Ellen Hopkins, who I just love to death. Hopefully that will give my career a shot in its ass, and give me one as well. I need a swift kick to the keester for even writing this when I'm supposed to be finishing a story.
So I'm working on my distractions... working them out of the equation, and then it will just be me, tons of free time, and a keyboard that cries to me at night that its being under utilized. (I usually tell it to shut up, because it might mean I'm insane.) Once they're all gone, we will see if I'm a writer or just some guy with a big imagination, but a burned out shell not able to put it to use. I really want to discover I'm a writer.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
How did I create three perfect beings from my shit DNA?
My three kids spent the day with me, swimming, joking, watching reruns of X-Files (Which they have grown to love, and this alone could possibly overshadow any faults I do have as a father.), insulting each other on their penchant for farting (Whether it's true or not.)
What I don't understand is how I had a hand in creating and raising these three wonderful, kind, caring, beautiful, and HILARIOUS children when they sprung from the loins of such a monumental fuck-up such as myself, with all the various crap DNA that my entire family tree (both sides) passed down to me alone, and I myself have no idea how to get through a single day without wishing a meteor would smash me into Nick-paste to end my pain, or alternately, my book would turn viral and I'll become super rich and I can buy all the spare body parts I need (preferably on the Black Market, just for street cred's sake). These kids, while dealing with a tough time (my pending divorce), as well as any kids ever could, still maintain their grades, good humor, tenderness, and love for each parent. They amaze me. No understatement here. They freaking amaze me! They leave, and I turn around to my shit-hole apartment that is all I can afford after I pay her all my money so she can keep the house I grew up in and bought with my own money (no bitterness at all!) and I just shake my head at how shitty my life is financially, healthy wise with all my ailments that make me the water cooler talk of every doctor in town (I bet some text other doctors in Timbuktu or Oxford or some shit and say "You wouldn't believe the poor asshole I saw today! It's a miracle he is still alive, let alone walking, and he doesn't have the damned sense to give a wet sloppy one to the business end of a 12-guage. So how about tennis when you get back into town? Ciao!"), and a job that is killing me physically, spiritually, and wallet-ly. (Yes that's a word. Here, look in this dictionary. *punches you in the dictionary*)
But no matter how bad my life is, even when they recognize and point out that perhaps I dont live in the safest neighborhood (Trust me kids, I grew up in worse, and WAS worse), they still love coming here and seeing their screw-up old man, and put a smile on my face the whole time.
The question is HOW did I do it? Or at least contribute to it, as obviously their mother played a big part in it. Shes cranky, and stubborn and loves to ground my oldest at the drop of a hat, but yet she still gets them in order and taken care of as best as any mom in the world could, and I give her major major props for that. I'd high five her, but she would say I'm raising my voice and junk-punch me.
I've always tried my best to teach them right from wrong, to treat others how they would like to be treated, and to always protect family.... which I dissolved when my wife's rants of how much she hated me got to the point that one of us had to go, and the odd man out was the one without insurance (ME! yaaaaay!). We all know kids barely listen to a thing we teach them, so how did they end up to be so fundamentally good, when my DNA is a bubbling cesspool of cancers, heart issues, chronic pain, depression, degenerative diseases, and a wicked strong sense of sarcasm??? Im honestly baffled, and cant take credit for it.
Either way, I love them, and they're the three sole reasons I'm alive. I guarantee ya that home-skillets.
What I don't understand is how I had a hand in creating and raising these three wonderful, kind, caring, beautiful, and HILARIOUS children when they sprung from the loins of such a monumental fuck-up such as myself, with all the various crap DNA that my entire family tree (both sides) passed down to me alone, and I myself have no idea how to get through a single day without wishing a meteor would smash me into Nick-paste to end my pain, or alternately, my book would turn viral and I'll become super rich and I can buy all the spare body parts I need (preferably on the Black Market, just for street cred's sake). These kids, while dealing with a tough time (my pending divorce), as well as any kids ever could, still maintain their grades, good humor, tenderness, and love for each parent. They amaze me. No understatement here. They freaking amaze me! They leave, and I turn around to my shit-hole apartment that is all I can afford after I pay her all my money so she can keep the house I grew up in and bought with my own money (no bitterness at all!) and I just shake my head at how shitty my life is financially, healthy wise with all my ailments that make me the water cooler talk of every doctor in town (I bet some text other doctors in Timbuktu or Oxford or some shit and say "You wouldn't believe the poor asshole I saw today! It's a miracle he is still alive, let alone walking, and he doesn't have the damned sense to give a wet sloppy one to the business end of a 12-guage. So how about tennis when you get back into town? Ciao!"), and a job that is killing me physically, spiritually, and wallet-ly. (Yes that's a word. Here, look in this dictionary. *punches you in the dictionary*)
But no matter how bad my life is, even when they recognize and point out that perhaps I dont live in the safest neighborhood (Trust me kids, I grew up in worse, and WAS worse), they still love coming here and seeing their screw-up old man, and put a smile on my face the whole time.
The question is HOW did I do it? Or at least contribute to it, as obviously their mother played a big part in it. Shes cranky, and stubborn and loves to ground my oldest at the drop of a hat, but yet she still gets them in order and taken care of as best as any mom in the world could, and I give her major major props for that. I'd high five her, but she would say I'm raising my voice and junk-punch me.
I've always tried my best to teach them right from wrong, to treat others how they would like to be treated, and to always protect family.... which I dissolved when my wife's rants of how much she hated me got to the point that one of us had to go, and the odd man out was the one without insurance (ME! yaaaaay!). We all know kids barely listen to a thing we teach them, so how did they end up to be so fundamentally good, when my DNA is a bubbling cesspool of cancers, heart issues, chronic pain, depression, degenerative diseases, and a wicked strong sense of sarcasm??? Im honestly baffled, and cant take credit for it.
Either way, I love them, and they're the three sole reasons I'm alive. I guarantee ya that home-skillets.
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