Jamie Eyberg: My Friend

The internet has made a small world even smaller. We meet and share our lives with people that 20 years ago we never would have met. We form digital friendships that are no less powerful than face-to-face friends.

Jamie Eyberg was my friend. No we never met. Never shared a meal. Never watched a movie together. And now to my great sadness, we never will.

Jamie was a good man. He always encouraged my writing. Always posted nice things on this blog. He enjoyed working with his hands, spending time with his wife and children, and dreaming of writing something people would find moving. In that we are brothers.

I don't pretend to understand. My heart hurts. My thoughts and prayers go out to his children, who lost not one parent, but both. There are a few people setting up donations for the children. You can read about them on Barry Napier's blog.

I will miss sharing Jamie's life via his blog. I will miss my friend.

Can't You Please Wait?

Man, ol' man. It never fails. I get an idea for a novel; get some research done; get my characters fleshed out; sit down for the long haul, and what happens? That's right, some new idea for a short story digs in and won't leave me alone.

Normally this isn't all that bad -- if I'm working on another short story. But when it's a novel then I have to worry that by the time I'm done the short story will leave me. Not the idea, but the desire to put it on paper.

Part of my job takes me through a couple of museums on a daily basis. I see lot of art that moves me, some I'll never understand, and some that, well, appeal to my dark scribbling nature.

So, though I probably shouldn't, I think I'll take a small break to write the short story.

A picture is worth a thousand words, so they say. I hope this one will be worth at least five times that. And yes, if you are wondering, that IS in fact a tattooed pig. Let your imaginations soar with this one.

Opened or Closed?

Wow, has it really been almost two months since my last post? Did our revolution around the sun get shorter somehow? Sure feels like it. I'm cutting it close to the wire. I almost missed my June post.

I've been plugging along on my YA novel, still feeling it out, not sure if it's going to end up whimsical or dark and gritty. The latter is what I suspect, but that's the great thing about writing -- if you do it right the story takes over and you are just as surprised at the ending as everyone else.

I've not been too happy with my word counts of late and I'm trying some new things. Stephen King discusses in his book On Writing about when to write with the door open and when to write with it closed. He suggests that when writing the first draft you should write in solitude with the door closed. Later on, when revising, write with the door open.

I agree with this method and I've done most of my writing this way. Problem is it's not always a feasible way to write. Now that my babies are becoming toddlers I'm facing some writing dilemmas. Either go into my room of solitude, shut the door and try to block out the knocking and calls for Daddy to come play. Or grab the laptop, shove my butt into the seat and write in small (sometimes VERY small) doses, working around the noise and distractions. There is one other option, but I don't seem very good at it. I could wait for the kids to go to sleep then write late at night. Not a bad option, but I get up very early for work, so I end up nodding off at the computer.

Oh how I dream of a professional writer's life. Get up, get the kids to the sitters, sit down and clack out about 2,000 words. Grab lunch. Get some editing done, surf blogs, a bit of self promotion. Then spend the rest of the day reading.

Okay, it's not realistic, but it's my dream so back off!

Sorry.

I'm afraid for the time being I'll have to do a bit of mix and matching with all of the above options. Maybe it'll work, maybe it won't. I'll be glad when they invent a machine that will transcribe the stories in a writer's brain while he sleeps. According to Back to the Future 2 we're only about five years away from flying cars, so my brain-transcriber should be along anytime now.

Spoke Too Soon

I often put the proverbial cart before the horse. In my last post I was discussing how I was waiting on an accepted story to be published in an anthology. I have been waiting a good long time to see this in print, and my faith that it would happen had started to waiver.

So, I posted my comment about it not looking too good. Then, in a moment of OCD writerly behavior, I decided to check the sites again. And there it was. The anthology was listed on both the publisher's website and on Amazon. I was elated. I was over the moon. I was . . . a little confused as to why my name and story title wasn't listed in the TOC.

In the beginning this was supposed to be a four-part anthology, with my story appearing in either the third or fourth. After the first anthology was published it was decided (as so often is the case) that the others would be shelved. But they had enough accepted stories that they elected to make number two the last. I was contacted and told my story would be published in the second and final of the series. When I didn't see my name in the TOC I panicked. What if I got bumped? There was not going to be a number three.

To make matters worse, on further searching, I discovered that the editor of the anthology (the only person I had any dealings with) had passed away a few days prior. I made contact with the head of the publishing company, John Betancourt, and after a bit of searching he confirmed that my story IS a part of the anthology.

If you like cats or you fear them; if you like stories of the strange; if you just want to buy a copy to make me feel better, then I encourage you to read Cat Tales 2 from Wildside Press, edited by the late George Scithers.



P.S.

I want to take this space to say how thankful I am for the chance (however small it was) to work with George Scithers. After reading of all his accomplishments, and how largess he was with help and instruction to writers of all status, I feel humbled that he chose my story. It is a great loss to the writing world and a void not easily filled.

New Territory

Hello all. I'm still here.

Sorry for all the short posts of late. I've been working, but I don't have much interesting to discuss.

I'm waiting to hear back about a submission I made to an anthology. Still waiting for a different anthology to get published so that I can see my story in print. At this point I'm not too optimistic. They have been putting it off for some time and I'm afraid it may have gotten the boot. I tried emailing the editor, but he has yet to respond to me.

I have ventured into new territory (as the title hints at). For the most part I write horror stories. Some are the good ol' fashion "blood'n'guts, chalked full of monsters" type. Others I would classify as just weird. They all are written for adults. But just when I get comfortable, what do I do? That's right, I go and try to write a Young Adult novel. I've never tried my hand at YA, and it's a chore to keep my overly dark style from permeating this story. Not that YA can't be dark, it's just that I can sometimes be "black hole" dark.

I'm not very far in and I have no idea where the story is heading. I'm a shoot-from-the-hip writer, but I usually have a good idea where the story is going before I write it. I have a little glimpse with this story, but not enough to feel comfortable. I hope it doesn't peter out on me, or doesn't come off as a cheap knockoff.

Wish me luck.