My Name is Simon

Book One in the new Medieval Fantasy Series

I, Dragon

Is in the editing stage, coming in September 2016. Previews coming soon.

The Lightning’s Kiss, Book Three of the Wylie Westerhouse Series is available in the Amazon Kindle Store. I plan on wrapping up this series with Book Four.

I am a non-apologetic Harry Potter fan. I’ve been through the book series three times and have seen all the movies at least once. When and if I get to Orlando, the Harry Potter stuff is on the top of my list.

So, I’m giving myself a license to make fun of a thing or two in Ms. Rowling’s universe—all in good fun, of course.

In Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, the school year starts with one big change. The Tri-Wizard Tournament has risen from the ashes and will be hosted by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

We will not be playing Quidditch this year.

%!*?’%3^#*())???!!!

Say WHAT?!

No Quidditch.
The game loved by non-muggles throughout the world. The game that has school teams and professional teams all over the witch and wizard universe; the game that inspires so much interest and fervor for three years of Harry Potter—will not be played? So that four kids can go on a mission every three months? Are you freaking kidding me?

Here is how this would play out in the real world.

“Hello and welcome, New York Yankee fans. I’m sure that you’re looking forward to a new baseball season—and eighteen games against our rival Boston Red Sox. However, I must inform you that this season of Major League Baseball is being cancelled in order to bring you the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

“Faculty and students—welcome to the University of Notre Dame. From Knute Rockne to ‘Rudy’, this venerable institution has served as a bastion of greatness for decades. This year, however, our football season will be replaced by the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

“Students and faculty of the great University of Kentucky, welcome. Congratulations on yet another trip—deep into the NCAA basketball tournament. I could not be more proud of our boys and the student body that supports them. This season, we will be suspending the basketball season in lieu of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

I could go on. But I won’t.
Be well, my friends.

Hello. I am a writer, but this blog is not here to sell things. It will be where I spout silliness and other emotional baggage. You are invited to play along.

I have no desire to discuss issues that will never change, such as political affiliations or anyone’s love/hate for the local sports team.
I am not a professional with a list of three letter acronyms trailing behind me. No, I’m just another guy that discovered rather late that writing novels is a real possibility, and a tortuous outlet for my obsessive-compulsive tendencies.

I am not a young person, though I’m not sure how much that even matters anymore. When I was younger, for example, there were very clear lines between generations. Old men wore crew cuts, young men had long hair. Now, old men, even some white-collar types have ponytails—while some young people shave their heads. Many women are trying to look sexy and desirable, even after great-grandmother age, and Girls Gone Wild videos are broadly advertised to make sure that elementary school girls know what “cool” looks like.

Years ago, musicians were pretty much kicked out of rock-and-roll when they reached the age of thirty. Today, many of the most successful touring bands out there have hard-looking, tattooed members in their fifties and sixties; who only hint at their head-banging moves of yesteryear with their shoe-polish black dyed manes—moves that now send shots of pain from the nerves around their bulging disks and their arthritic knees. These bands still manage to draw crowds whose ages might span three generations.
So, I don’t think age matters all that much, unless the most important thing in your life is still seeking the most beautiful donor or host for your unborn children. Reality TV certainly doesn’t care how old you are, especially if you make duck calls, or enjoy painting your young daughters to resemble prostitutes.

One thing that used to be primarily a characteristic of youth was the short attention span. I don’t believe that applies anymore. My own attention span is pretty much shot.
For example, I recently re-watched “Alien”, the 1979 sci-fi horror flick. I barely made myself sit through it. How could that be? I’ll tell you how.
The film is pretty dang slow until the “chest-burster” scene. And that happens over fifty-six minutes into the film. One of the most iconic movies of the last century; and there’s no way that film could be released in the same form today. Audiences wouldn’t stand for it. Don’t believe me? Try it yourself.
I think that this is one of the same problems that plague aspiring writers today. If you pick up a successful novel written maybe fifteen, twenty, or thirty years ago, you might find that the pacing—particularly at the beginning—just will not work anymore. We have been conditioned to find stories unacceptable unless they grab us by the throat immediately.

If you’re still with me, I appreciate it. I have enjoyed my maiden voyage on the USS blog post.

I am by nature a sarcastic person, and that’s just the way my sense of humor runs. Unfortunately, my experience on these internets is that sarcasm is very often misunderstood. If you find anything here offensive, please give me the benefit of a doubt before casting any voodoo upon me.

Be well, my friends.

This is over four years old, so yes, I’m late to the party.

On the other hand, this is one subject that I am insanely passionate about, so I’ll be one late voice in the wilderness.

There is little that I can add to the content of this short talk. But I feel strongly about this:

While there is certainly no fault or shame in spending the majority of one’s life in the pursuit of an income to provide for yourself and your family, this is not the BEST that life can offer. It is better than being poor or even financially challenged, as anyone that has ever feared their own telephone and mailbox can tell you. But it is not the BEST.

It is not the best for you, and it is not the best for your children. Why do we nurture a child’s imagination, only to try and crush it a few years later? Because we have been conditioned this way. The world needs WORKERS.

My stance is that regardless of what we have been led to believe for the past decades—THERE IS NO INTRINSIC VALUE IN MAKING SOMEONE ELSE WEALTHY IN EXCHANGE FOR THE HOURS THAT YOU HAVE ON THIS PLANET.

Okay. Caps-Lock off. I feel better. Bless you, Larry Smith.

Be well, my friends.

We seem to be on the verge of having a generation that does not have a “rock-and-roll” identity.
Let’s take a look.
The 50’s. Elvis, Chuck Berry, Everly Brothers.
The 60’s. Beatles, Stones, Zeppelin.
The 70’s. Queen, KISS, Nugent, etc.
The 80’s. The heyday—too many to mention.
The 90’s. Nirvana, Alice in Chains, The Smashing Pumpkins.
The 2000’s. Creed, Nickelback, Foo Fighters.

The future?
I don’t see it.
The rock music “industry” appears to be flailing.

Remember the “Aid” projects from years ago? You know, Aid for Africa, Farm- Aid, etc.—where some musicians unified for concerts or recordings to raise money for different social causes. I was just thinking…

Wouldn’t it be cool to unite the online community to alter the universe in some small way? What I’m talking about is an injustice that has touched many of our lives—the injustice of bands that have been criminally ignored, underrated, and under-appreciated for their entire careers.

How easy would it be to turn “the music industry” on its head, and come together to vote in a deserving band once a year— to recognize their contribution—in the REAL world?
Make a media blitz to promote their music; schedule interviews, blog them up, and post about them ceaselessly— have four to six months’ worth of major venue concerts set up for them, making them frenzied events. Line up a major act as an opening act, but limit them to forty minutes. Are you beginning to see “justice” being delivered yet?
This may seem contrived and insincere, but c’mon.

Music in America, at least, has effectively eliminated its middle class. All that remains are acts that can guarantee sellout crowds at huge arenas, and acts that struggle to remain viable with small venue bookings.

The Grateful Dead entourage that followed that group across the country was before my time, but obviously that phenomenon wasn’t really about the band, it was about the community; the same with Jimmy Buffet’s Parrotheads.

Think about it; being a part of a group that gets to turn the tables on “The Man” who has run the music business for decades, deciding what succeeds and what does not.

Do you get goose bumps when you watch Rocky find the strength to overtake Apollo Creed or Clubber Lang? Do you cheer when “Rudy” Reuttiger gets to suit up and get into the game, with 80,000 strong chanting, “Rudy, Rudy, Rudy”?

How would it feel to go to sleep at night, knowing that you were part of a movement that took a deserving band that had never caught the big break, and for six months set them high on a pedestal, for the world to see and appreciate?
I would love that.
My nominee for the first recipient—

None other than The Pride of Katy Texas.
King’s X.

Be well, my friends.

Hi. My name is Nathan, and I am a podcast junkie.

I would like to take this opportunity to recognize those that have helped me so much, and continue to do so.

I was shoved from the apron into the deep end of the pool when I ran across the Self Publishing Podcast.

Sean Platt, David W. Wright, and Johnny B. Truant spoke of a path to publication that I did not even know existed. This came at a time when I was at about the second-draft stage of my first book, and my mood was schizophrenic and pessimistic. And orange.

I thought that I could write, but, much like the music business, I thought that the path to entry was too broken to walk down. I’m 56, for crying out loud—I don’t have time to play games. Thanks a ton, guys.

Thanks to Simon Whistler of Rocking Self Publishing. This podcast is also entertaining and informative. Simon was also kind enough to provide video tutorials on his website and Youtube channel for setting up an author’s website. My site was constructed primarily by following those videos.

Thanks to Jim Kukral and Bryan Cohen of Sell More Books Show, Joanna Penn of The Creative Penn, Mur Lafferty of I Should be Writing, and Jeff Rutherford of Reading and Writing Podcast.

My longest association among the podcasts on this list is with Writing Excuses. I have been through the archive multiple times, which now that I think more about it, may sound a little strange.

Brandon Sanderson, Dan Wells, Howard Tayler, and Mary  Robinette Kowal, I thank you very much for what you do. Oh, what the hey. I’ve been around so long, let me include Robison Wells and Producer Jordo. One thing I have always wanted to know—when Howard does the tongue-in-cheek ad for “Recital thermometers”, was that supposed to be “Rectal thermometers”? Because that would make a lot more sense and would have been a lot more funny.

No podcast list would be complete without the inclusion of This Week in Tech. I’ve been watching Leo LaPorte since the days of  ZDTV and TechTV. Leo is still making Tech cool from the seat of his own empire, so let me add my own “chin flip” to the ones that took him off of my television.

I have fewer opportunities to keep up with blogs, but I will mention a few of my favorites. I really enjoy Amanda Hocking’s blog. Although I am certainly not a member of her “target audience”, I like her sense of humor and honesty. Amanda, I offer a slow clap, and a Red Bull toast.

Jane Friedman’s blog is a wealth of knowledge for writers. Joe Konrath’s blog is a nearly inexhaustible source, as well as a window into the life of a man who has pursued his passion with the tenacity of a hungry pit bull.

Thanks again, to all of you. How did anyone ever write without the support that we enjoy today?

Be well, my friends.

I originally intended to update my favorite podcast information, but so many new ones are popping up that this is no longer practical. I will continue to link to the ones I listen to in the sidebar. The same goes for informative blog sites.

Be well, my friends.

I enjoy making stupid little stories that feature unattributed dialog. These are dialog exchanges between two people without the “he said” “she said” tags.
I will not stop making these.
You’re not the boss of me.

“Hi! Welcome to Screw, Nails, and Board Mart!”

“Excuse me? Isn’t this the Home—?”
“Please sir—the name of the store has been recently changed. There was a little…problem, with the franchise.”
“Oh, okay. Say, I just wanted to let someone know—someone made a mistake on the sign on that riding lawn-mower outside. It’s marked ‘$14,000.00’! Ha,ha,ha!”
“That’s not a mistake, sir. I made the sign myself. That’s the Johnny Moose BT-5000—the Flagship of the new fleet of Johnny Moose Lawn Equipment.”

“Johnny Moose? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Manager Manley negotiated an agreement to import them from India. You can currently only find the Johnny Moose line here at Screw, Nail, and Board Mart.”

“BT-5000, huh? What does ‘B-T’ stand for?”
“Bluetooth. The BT-5000 is compatible with the PlayStation 4, the Xbox One, and the Iphone 6.”
“What?”
“That’s right, sir. The Flagship Johnny Moose Model takes all of the drudgery out of your lawn-maintenance needs. As of today, sports stadiums in five major Far and Middle-Eastern countries have their field maintenance overseen by one eleven-year-old boy.”

“That’s great, I guess. Where is this Mr. Manl—?”
“Please, sir. The Manager prefers to be called ‘Manager Manley’. I would really appreciate it if you cooperated with me on this. I have my fingers crossed—the Shift Manager position is up for grabs, and I really want that job. That’s Manager Manley right over there.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, why doesn’t he want to be called Mr. Ma—?”
“SHHH! It seems that there is already a man of minor celebrity that is known as Mr. Manley. This man reportedly makes films for a rather specialized adult audience.”
“Oh, okay. I get it.”
“So, how may I help you today?”

“Do you sell wooden birdhouses?” (glances toward spouse, who is filling a shopping basket with plants in the Garden Center).
“I’m afraid not, sir. But we sell every possible item that you might need to construct them yourself.”
“Yes, that’s what I’ve been told. (glances toward spouse in the Garden Center). “Do I know you from somewhere? You look very familiar to me.”
“I don’t believe so, sir. I’ve only lived here for about a year.”

“Can you direct me to the lumber section?” (brushes hair from his eyes).
“Aisle thirteen—on the far end. It appears that you could use a haircut.”
“Yeah, it has been—hey! That’s where I remember you from! You cut my hair about three months ago—at ‘Haircuts While you Wait’.”
“Sh!” (glances toward Manager Manley). “I’m sorry sir. I would rather that Manager Manley did not overhear details of my work history.”
“What’s wrong with being a hair stylist? Never mind. It’s none of my business.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, sir.”

“I’ll need a power saw to build this birdhouse. Will I find that next to the lumber?”
“No, sir. That will be on aisle number two.” (points in opposite direction).
“That’s a very interesting shoulder tattoo—and it also seems strangely familiar. Could I see the rest of it?”
“I don’t know…” (glances toward Manager Manley).
“C’mon. It’s a very nice tattoo. I’ve been thinking of getting one myself.”
“Just for a second. I’m not sure what Manager Manley thinks about tattoos.”

“Oh my God! You’re Candi Pantz?—from the Naughty Kitten Club?” (glances at spouse)
“Sir….” (glances at Manager Manley)

“You have been most helpful, Ma’am. I am going right now to tell your boss how helpful you’ve been.”
“Thank you for shopping at Screw, Nail, and Board Mart, sir. Please come again.”

Be well, my friends.

I have nothing against literary fiction, classic fiction, or the rest of what the publishing industry has determined is “quality writing”.
That said, I could not bring myself to finish “The Catcher in the Rye”, or “Atlas Shrugged”.

I’m not a snob. I just did not care.
I’m thinking that there is something very wrong with the present day model of traditional publishing. Prospective new authors are encouraged, (threatened?) to (harumph!) treat publishing as a business!

Another word for business is…commerce.
A form of the word “commerce” is the word “commercial”. “Commercial fiction” is frequently found among the requested genres of many literary agents and publishers.
Correct me if I’m wrong, here, but isn’t the implied intent of commercial fiction the same thing that we mean by the term “entertainment”? A term I recall being used to describe such works as, say: Harry Potter, Twilight, The Hunger Games, Lord of the Rings, etc.?

So, for the love of God, can someone explain why the gatekeepers of modern day fiction are firmly entrenched in a system that looks down its noses at true commercial fiction?
You must g̶r̶o̶v̶e̶l̶, uh, submit your g̶a̶r̶b̶a̶g̶e̶ work precisely as instructed, thus making it quicker and easier for someone to locate the appropriate reason to reject it, because if you were a decent author, you would already have books on the shelves. Unless, of course, you have the (cue Angelic musical sound-byte here), pre-formed Holy Grail of the publishing world—
The Platform.

I’m sorry. I hate those books. All they did for me was leave me depressed at what they DID NOT do for me.
Conversely, when I read Ender’s Game, Jaws, The Exorcist, Ready Player One, I felt freaking
ALIVE!
Maybe I’m merely out of touch with the world market of readers. But you know what?
I don’t think so.
It makes me sick, the number of times I have read or heard someone try to rip apart the quality of work of John Grisham. They seem to favor “The Firm” in these assaults.

Really?
If I might imagine for a moment what it would feel like to have my stories, my scenes, my dialogue—being read, rehearsed, memorized, and interpreted by such as these:
Tom Cruise, Hal Holbrook, Wilford Brimley, Gene Hackman, Ed Harris, Holly Hunter, Kevin Spacey, Sandra Bullock, Donald AND Kiefer Sutherland, John Cusack, John Heard, Denzel Washington, Julia Roberts, John Lithgow, Hume Cronyn, Faye Dunaway, William H. Macy, Tommy Lee Jones, Susan Sarandon, Claire Danes, Danny DeVito, Matt Damon, Jon Voight, Rachel Weisz, and Dustin Hoffman (whew!).

The entire world would have my permission to call me every name in the book, and then receive my invitation to kiss my pasty white backside.

Be well, my friends.