Write a critically panned
international best seller.
What would you rather do?
Write a critically acclaimed multiple award winning novel that didn't sell well.
Write a critically panned
international best seller.
Sunday night I went to bed feeling fine. Monday morning I woke up with an ache between my shoulder blades. By Monday afternoon I could barely turn my head, never mind stand straight. It even hurts when I breathe. I feel like Quasimodo, with my chin tucked into my chest, all stoop shouldered and my upper body canted to the right.
I went to the doctor this morning, who prescribed anti-inflammatories, muscle relaxants, painkillers, and A535. I'm off work for a couple of days, but I had to convince the idiot to give me the time off. At first all he'd written down was "Upper body PT at own pace for seven days." Not even light duties. In the military that means you still have to go to work, still have to go to PT, you're still eligible to be on parade or do any type of work they see fit.
I'd like to blame it on the fact that he was a civilian doctor hired by the CF because of serious manpower shortages, but the truth is the military ones are as bad, or worse.
It's bad enough that now I'm so old I can apparently hurt myself in my sleep (next thing I know I'll be falling down and breaking a hip or something), but to have to deal with idiots like that only make things worse.
I really really really really really need to be my own boss.
6 Sep: I wonder if reverse psychology works on agents.
I'm sending you this query even though several of your colleagues have informed me that there is no market for humorous fantasy. In my opinion, a competent agent should be able to sell a good novel despite the perceived market. After all, how else are trends started?
I'm sim-subbing this query because, let's face it, you probably couldn't sell DARKSIDE. Still, I believe in giving everyone an equal opportunity, so don't be too disappointed if you fail.
Okay, maybe not.
7 Sep: What the &%@#?
Sometimes I swear reality shifts around me. I can't tell you how many times I've been driving along a familiar route--sometimes one that I take practically every day--and thought, "Where the hell did that house come from? I don't ever remember seeing it before." And it's not like it's a new house, either. It's obviously one that's been there for a while. Sometimes it's a playground, or a vacant lot, or a store of some kind.
Maybe it's like reverse déjà vu.
If I ever find the guy who's programming my matrix, I'm going to beat the snot out of him for messing with it. I mean, how come I never have one of those, "Hey, where the hell did all that money come from?" moments.
It's my brother's birthday today.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMES!
He's the younger, taller, better looking brother. Mom always liked him best.
Today is my sister-in-law's birthday.
So jsgbits was visiting with retrobabble over the weekend, which somehow translates as more work for me. That's right, the two of them got together and outlined a book they feel I should write. Thank God Pen wasn't with them, or I'd be writing this book while mowing the lawn and painting the bathroom. (No doubt while the three of them went shopping.)
Speaking of Pen, she just got a big raise at work, because she's worth it. (Woohoo! No more no-name macaroni and cheese!)
Britany Spears just had another baby? Didn't she just have the first one, like, 3 months ago? Just what is the gestation period for celebrities anyway? Although I suppose that explains why they're in perfect shape 2 weeks after having the baby, and posing naked for Playboy.
While I was away on vacation, it seemed like people were posting like 27 times a day on LJ, and now that I'm home--nothing.
What's up? Is it all, "Shhhhhh. He's back!"
Come on, people. Entertain me.
How do it know?
I think I enjoyed writing a lot more
back before I knew about the business
of publishing, probably in the same
way that couples who are trying to get
pregnant enjoyed sex more before they
were trying to get pregnant.
Argghhh! I had a great funny line that I've totally forgotten now. One of those, "I'm going to beat you so bad......"
I used to carry around a PDA (a Sony Clie) and I would write these lines down as soon as I thought of them, because I knew I'd forget them--like this one. But the screen on my PDA died (the second one, and at $400 a pop...). Pen gave me an old Palm Pilot she used to use, but it...um...sucks. (Monochrome screen, and my new computer doesn't have a port to connect it to--everything's USB now--so I can't back it up. I hadn't used it for a while, so the battery died and I lost everything that was on it. Grrrr.) And so I forgot the line.
I refuse to buy a new PDA until they come combined with a cell phone, camera (video too) and MP3 player all in one. I don't have enough pockets to carry around one of each, and hey, I'm a guy...we don't have purses, and Pen complains when I make her carry all of my stuff in hers. Go figure.
There are a few all singing all dancing PDAs out now, but they're still really expensive, or you have to buy into a plan that...um...makes you their indentured servant for three years, I think. And I don't really need a data plan--I'm perfectly fine with updating my PDA from my computer.
But I wish to hell I could remember that funny line....
Okay, some of you
have missed the
point behind my
whole PDA rant.
Carrying a pen and
paper won't cut
it, because the
point is to only
have to carry
phone, MP3 player,
camera, PDA. If
too, I'd be in
then I could add
cards etc. to the
list. And if you
could implant the
whole damn thing
in a chip, I'd be
So I was reading this article the other day about how women tend to classify men into one of three categories:
1. men they'd date;
2. men they'd marry;
3. friends. (I think they left out men they'd run screaming from, but hey.)
Still I think that's quite different from men who probably divide women into:
1. women they'd do;
2. women they'd do but they wouldn't want their buddies to find out;
3. women they wouldn't do.
A guy's morality is then based upon which women he places into what category. For instance, hopefully family members would fall into the latter category. If they fell into the second category, their morals would no doubt be frowned upon, and if they fell into the first category, well, then they're from Kentucky.
Attention Amber Van
22 Sep Just because E asked.
01. Do we know each other outside of LJ?
02. Whats your philosophy on life?
03. Would you have my back in a fight?
04. Would you keep a secret from me if you thought it was in my best interest?
05. What is your favorite memory of us?
06. Would you give me a kidney?
07. Tell me one odd/interesting fact about you:
08. Would you take care of me when I'm sick?
09. Can we get together and make a cake?
10. Have you heard any rumors of me lately?
11. Do you/have you talk(ed) crap about me?
12. Do you think I'm a good person?
13. Would you drive across country with me?
14. Do you think I'm attractive?
15. If you could change anything about me, would you?
16. What do you wear to sleep?
17. Would you come over for no reason just to hang out?
18. Would you go on a date with me if I asked you?
19. If I only had one day to live, what would we do together?
20. Will you repost this so I can fill it out for you? .
BONUS QUESTION: What should my next journal entry be about? A story, an idea, a day in the life, whatever. I might even fulfill your request if you're lucky!
Answers to the Bonus Question:
deannahoak: Your opinion on whether you ought to have to wear you hat out to the parade grounds?
I hate hats. I never wore a hat (or a belt, for that matter) until I joined the military. Since they're part of the uniform, you have to wear one or get charged for improper dress. That said, if I have to wear one, at least I look good in the CF beret. Pretty much any other hat makes me look dorky(er).
Don't get me started on the air force wedge. (It initially belonged to the army, and even they were smart enough to ditch it.) Stick it on your head and you get a bunch of men standing around looking like flat-head screwdrivers. But even the wedge is better than the old forge--or peak--caps. Those things weighed a ton, you had to wear it in such a way that you constantly had your nose stuck up in the air (which might explain why the officers still wear them) and the head band would get sweaty and then shrink in the sun constricting around your forehead like that old Indian torture trick.
Wearing a hat on parade is a pain, since ours are made of wool and usually dark in colour--just what you want on your head when you've been standing absolutely still for the last hour and a half outside in the sun and ninety-plus heat.
mrissa: And your next journal entry should be about bones. I don't know why. It's just what the nearest note on my novel says, and it no longer makes any sense to me, so I bequeath it to you.
Most of the stuff I know about bones has to do with breaking them, or splinting them. (Btw, if I break someone else's I generally don't splint them.) The collarbone is the easiest bone in the body to break, which is why most kids manage to break it. It only takes about four pounds of pressure to break--good to know in a self-defense situation. Just hammer down on it with a closed fist and presto. It also makes the arm useless, so they can't try smacking you afterwards. (So break both, just to be safe.) And it's really hard to splint. All you can do is try to immobilize the arm and shoulder with a bunch of broad bandages.
hkneale: I want to hear a humorous anecdote. Doesn't have to be true.
I went to a matinee today to see Jet Li's new movie, FEARLESS. (Pretty good martial arts flick, btw.) So I'm waiting for the movie to start--just me and about 15 or 20 other guys spaced throughout the theatre, when this couple walks in. They're standing at the bottom of the theatre trying to decide where to sit, and I just couldn't resist myself, so I yelled out, "Hey, you! What's the big idea bringing a girl?" Everyone in the theatre cracked up, including the couple. They didn't sit near me, however.
retrobabble: Kumquats. Go.
First off, you're a freak. Secondly, it's spelled cumquat. (Damn Americans.) Cumquats are known as the "little jewel of the citrus family," which is even stranger since they haven't been classified as citrus since 1915. (Let it go, man.) A cumquat contains about 275 calories--roughly the same as most chocolate bars. Can you guess which one I'm going to be eating?
"Part of a U.S. spy report finished in April and leaked last weekend said the U.S. invasion of Iraq helped increase the terrorism threat."
Way to go, eh.
And in keeping with that, watch this:
In five words, explain
what ended your last
friendship? A 7.62 mm