4 Sep 
          Some of my favourite moments from recruit school so far:

"Recruit, do you need help with that drill movement?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
(Timidly) "Yes, please?"
"Polite, but wrong. Yes MASTER CORPORAL!"

Said to a recruit who's beret looked like the hat the swedish chef wore on the muppet show: 
"What is that on your head?"
"It's a beret, Master Corporal."
"Wrong, this is a beret (pointing to my own). That is a lump of wool. I suggest you reform it tonight."
"How do I do that, Master Corporal?"
"Soak it in warm water."
"Ummm...the beret, or my head, Master Corporal?"
*Sigh* "I'd say both, but you'd probably drown yourself trying. Just the beret, son."

5 Sep
          I read Amber's blog today, and I sympathise with the poor girl/woman/goth chick/editor/friend and all around cool person. Coming back from a con was always a big letdown for me. After spending a few days immersed in the writer world, going back to the mundane job is almost unbearable, no matter how much you may like your mundane job. Let's face it, if you always wanted to be a rock star, and for one weekend you got to go up on stage and sing in front of thousands of adoring fans and got invited to all the cool rock star parties, everything after that pales.
          And Amber, cool is having the courage to be who you want to be and dress the way you want to dress because you like it, no matter what anyone else thinks. That makes you cool in my book.

7 Sep
          I was at work yesterday for 0700 to inspect the recruits at 0720. Unfortunately, I was also Duty NCO yesterday, which meant I wasn't off work until 0800 this morning. I thought, hey, since I have to be at work all night, why not bring my laptop and write. Yeah, right. Not a word. 
          And I was talking to my daughter, Chantel today. She's going to a toga party (don't tell her mother) tonight. She went to a concert a couple of days ago, a movie the night before last, and a party last night. Heck, now I want to go to university. She told me that they marked big black X's on her hands last night so that they wouldn't serve her alcohol because she's underage. I told her not to worry. I'm sure they'll wash off before she turns nineteen. 

12 Sep
          Well, I sent out the 11 query letters a while back. I got a bunch of "Not Interested", four who didn't bother to reply (yet), and one "Sounds intriguing, please send sample chapters." What kills me is the agent that asked for sample chapters responded to my query in about a week and a half. It's been about a month and a half sent I sent the chapters and nothing. Why do they do this to me? It's a plot to drive me mad, I tell ya.
          Oh, yeah. Notice how I didn't even mention 9-11?

13 Sep
          Make that a whole bunch plus one "Not Interested." Apparently the agents don't think they can make DARKSIDE a "commercial success." Aaarrrggghhh! Remember that old joke that goes: What do you call 1000 lawyers at the bottom of the Ocean? A good start. Well, I think those lawyers should move over and make room for some agents.
          And by the way, I'm convinced there's a gym in Hell. One brimming with 90 year old guys that make me look bad by benching 350 pounds for three sets of ten, and run a full marathon every other day. And some woman body builder that keeps telling me if I eat right and work really hard, maybe someday I can look like her.

16 Sep
          I worked on the sequel to Darkside last night for the first time in months. It was like pulling teeth to get 500 words. How the Hell can I be having trouble with James Decker's voice--the guy is practically me? Maybe somebody is trying to tell me something. I also got a rejection today from F&SF. It's still signed by GVG, so I guess that's something. (Evidently my moving to Victoria didn't confuse him.) And I'm running out of American stamps again, which puts a crimp in my ability to submit stuff. Hey, maybe someone really is trying to tell me something.

17 Sep
         I was on the treadmill at the gym tonight and I realised that there's just way too much noise in my head. Too much "I need to do this" or "I have to get that done" or "I wish" or "I want" or "if only". The thoughts just bombard me, coming at me like those little blocks in a Tetris game without ever letting up. I need to find a quite spot in my mind. You wouldn't think it would be all that hard, my head being empty and all, and it should be warm enough with all that hot air. All I need now is a nice, comfy chair. I hope Leon's delivers.
          And I sent the story out that GVG rejected to Shawna McCarthy at Realms of Fantasy. I don't think she's actually rejected me yet. Well, not unless you count DARKSIDE when she was working at Warners, but I can hardly hold that against. Oh, wait a minute. Yes I can!
          Speaking of Warners, I was showing a friend at work my webpage today, and when he came to friends books at the bottom of the page he asked me where Warchild was. D'oh!! And then there's all Keri's books. You'd think if the damn voices were going to nag me, they could at least remind me of the important stuff.

18 Sep
          One of the guys at work has started reading this journal (yes, Master Seaman Underhill, I'm talking about you) so I guess I should watch what I write here. Naaahhhh. Of course, this means he's got access to all of your journals too, so you'd better mind your P's and Q's or you'll have the might of the Canadian Navy to deal with. That's right, piss him off and he'll row our dingy up to you and splash you with his oars.
          Actually, he's an aspiring SF&F author, so in the spirit of camaraderie I'd like to offer him these words of encouragement: GO BACK, IT's A TRAP!!!

20 Sep
          And so it begins. Cyprus Platoon's first recruits began to trickle in today. I'm on duty tomorrow to handle the expected flood of newbies, and then back in again Sunday night at 18:00 hours when the fun really begins. That's when their recruit training officially commences--well, at least that's when we start harping on 'em. If I'm lucky, I'll get a day off next Sunday. Of course, if I win the lottery tonight, they're on their own.
I managed to write about a thousand words on DARKSIDE the last couple of days, but its been like pulling teeth. Not my teeth either--someone else's teeth, and I had to chase 'em around, tackle 'em, hold 'em down and pry their mouths open, and...well, you get the picture. Of course now that my platoon's starting, odds are I won't have time to write anyway. And just when I had my muse scheduled for a root canal.