My Son's Birhtday @Solsticepublish

Today is June 4th.  What is significant about this day you may ask?  Lots of things.  In 1942 the Battle of Midway marking the turning point in the Pacific War took place.  In 1989 the Tiananmen Square massacre took place in China.  In 1940 the Dunkirk Evacuation saving hundreds of thousands of British and French Soldiers ended.  In 1919 Congress passed the 19th Amendment to the Constitution allowing women to have the right to vote.  From Hollywood, Angelina Jolie was born on this day in 1975.  And in a hospital in Michigan in 1991 my first born child and only son was born.  I should have seen it as a sign of things to come when he was born in the middle of the night.  He has always been one to stay up late…and as a child kept us up late when he wouldn’t go to sleep.  I’m told that you make your mistakes with your first child and figure it out with the others.  That night I made a rookie mistake.  After he was delivered the doctor asked if I wanted to cut the cord.  I was terrified and said, “What do you think I’m paying you for?  I’m not going near him with something sharp!”  So they cut the cord and cleaned him up.  Then they put him under a heat lamp which calmed him right down.  Here comes the mistake.  The nurse asked if I wanted to pick him up.  I eagerly agreed and lifted my son for the first time.  As soon as he was out of the heat he screamed like I really had cut him.  I moved him around but it was no use.  Then the nurse took him and set him next to my wife on the delivery table.  He calmed right down.  From then on he associated me picking him up with crying and my wife holding him contentment.  It did not stop at infancy.  When he would be in his play pen he would throw his toys at me.  He once caused an accident when he threw his bottle from the back seat and hit me in the head.  The blow made me turn my head for an instant and I rear-ended the car in front of me.  There was a popular show back then called “Dinosaurs” when the baby would throw things at the dad from his high chair and yell, “Not the Mama!  Not the Mama!”  That was my son!  And it all began when I was foolish enough to take him out of the warmer first.  With my next two children I let the nurse take them out and give them to my wife.  I only held them once they calmed down.  As a result, they liked me fine as babies.  When my son was turning 11 I was out of town in Winnipeg, Manitoba on a temporary assignment.  The people I was working for were so pleased with my work that they offered to take me with them for a weeklong trip to Lake of the Woods for a guided fishing trip with all the food and beer I wanted.  It would mean missing my son’s birthday.  I spoke with him on the phone and could not bring myself to say I would miss it just so I could go on a trip.  So I finished my work, collected my last check and drove 22 straight hours to get back to Michigan a half hour before he woke on his birthday so the first face he saw that day would be mine.  I was his hero then.  My status has faded over the years but my love for that boy hasn’t.  They say the ultimate proof of whether you made a good decision or not lies in whether you would make the same decision again knowing the consequences.  I look at my son and know life would not be the same without him.  He means the world to me and I wish him a Happy Birthday.

My Shampoo Stand @Solsticepublish

Yesterday I was looking out the window and a bunch of kids in the neighborhood were running a lemonade stand.  They had signs made up and there were 10 children in all working the stand and yelling to cars driving by.  I really didn’t have time to stop by but I wondered what they were charging for the lemonade.  Split 10 ways I didn’t figure it would go too far.  It reminded me of when I was younger.  I was about 9 years old.  At the time we lived in condominiums in a suburb of Toronto, Ontario called Mississauga. (The inspiration for the town of Missandor in my books)  We also had a cottage on the north shore of Lake Erie where we spent our summer vacations.  I was obsessed with sunken pirate treasure at the time.  Although everyone in the family assured me that no Spanish Galleons sank in Lake Erie, I was determined to find the treasure in the sand just off shore.  At a local store there was a package for sale with a mask, snorkel and flippers.  It cost $7.99.  I wanted it but it was May and with Christmas in December and my birthday in January, there was no way I was getting those tools in time for summer.  I had to come up with a plan.  I schemed with my next oldest brother who was the wise age of 11.  Selling lemonade wouldn’t work because we didn’t get the foot traffic necessary to earn enough to buy two sets of gear.  Then we noticed a pile of shampoo and conditioning bottles in the closet.   I don’t know if my mother was recycling them or just hording them for some other purpose but they would work.  We determined to make the strongest shampoo and conditioner there ever was.  The recipe started with water.  Then we would shave off bar soap and float it in there.  It’ll dissolve; right?  Then we added Lava soap we had worked into a lather, Comet Cleanser and Cascade from under the sink.  The conditioner just didn’t have the chucks of soap.  In all we made 30 bottles.  At $1 a piece we stood to make a handsome profit.  The next problem was our front door.  It was the type with a piston that closed automatically when you let go.  So we wedged it open with some gloves but that didn’t hold.  Then we stuck boots in front but they were too light.  Fortunately Mom’s good Sunday dress pumps were there and we wedged them under the door.  It held!  Next we set up a card table and loaded it with our product we were sure would clean.  How could it not?  As we searched for chairs to sit behind the table, our mother came home from work.  When she saw her shoes she was furious.  We had to move the table in order for her to enter the door.  She slammed it closed and dragged us into the living room to explain ourselves.  When we divulged the ingredients of our products I can still remember her saying, “Oh My Heavens, we’re going to be sued!  You didn’t sell any, did you?”  We had not quite reached the consumer.  She made us pour out every bottle of product and throw away the empties so there was no evidence of them.  After my father came home they both interrogated us intensely.  When they saw the effort we had put in and the reason, they broke with tradition and bought us the gear even though it was not a special occasion.  We blissfully spent our summer days scouring the lake floor not more than a few feet from shore.  Sadly, no treasure could be found but it never stopped us from searching.

Stuffed Animals @Solsticepublish

My children have always been fascinated by stuffed animals.  I didn’t realize how big an issue it was until my 3 year old grand-daughter was playing with a huge stuffed dog of my daughter’s and ripped underneath the arms on both sides.  Don’t ask me how she managed that but she did.  My 13 year old daughter is the owner of the dog and was most upset.  She used duct tape to seal the tears and now it looks like the 4 foot stuffed dog wears silver deodorant.   As my daughter complained about her niece’s lack of care around her stuffed pals I began to take account of just how many stuffed animals we have in this house.  There are hundreds of them going back to my wife.  How did it get so out of control?  It started with my son and a stuffed raccoon he named “Ricky the Raccoon”.  Every night he needed to have the big (2 foot) doll with him when he went to sleep.  Five years later his first sister came along and soon wanted Ricky for herself.  That didn’t fly.  Unfortunately they no longer made the big raccoons so I bought the 1 foot size they made and named it “Little Ricky”.  She never took to him in the same way and the fight ensued.  My son was also into Pokémon at the time and had won a 3 foot tall doll of Charmander. the little, cute fire Pokémon.  His sister wanted it and he refused to share because he feared what she might do.  It turned out he was right to be afraid.  She took her markers and colored all over his belly and face one day.  It was impossible to clean.  Then my son and I were at a local carnival.  I have never been good at carnival games and so I stay clear of them.  One of the places had a Charzard, the more evolved form of Charmander hanging in the “Look at this prize that is impossible to win” section.  My son said he wanted to win Charzard for his sister to make her happy and also so she would leave Charmander alone.  I’m a considerate Dad but this was a money pit, plain and simple.  It was raining and there were hardly any patrons at the games.  The game had something to do with throwing rings and I knew there was no way to win.  I also knew this person probably didn’t pay much for the doll and was currently making no money.  While my son wasn’t looking I asked if business had been slow and the person said it had.  I pulled out a $20 bill and said, “Here’s the deal.  My son wants that Charzard up there.  You can have this bill up front and we will play your game.  But when the game is over, no matter what happens, we walk away with that doll.  Otherwise we could just walk away now.”  It was probably not the best deal either of us had ever made but on that rainy Wednesday we agreed.  My son and I didn’t come close to getting the rings in the right places but at the end the fellow running the game said we were, “Close Enough” and he awarded us the Charzard.  That was it.  My son was beaming.  He didn’t want to stay at the fair any longer.  We drove home and when he saw his sister next, he gave it to her.  She was so happy she colored on it too.  A few years later that same daughter was into the Power Puff Girls.  At one point she insisted we call her Bubbles after the blond one.  At our local supermarket was a claw machine…an evil claw machine that held a large Bubbles doll.  I tried to win it and I might as well have been throwing rings.  My son tried to win it and had no better luck.  Every time we went there we would each put a dollar (of mine) into the machine and be disappointed.  One day we were paying for my groceries and there were some teenaged boys over at the claw machine.  They had managed to capture the doll and had it thrown to the side while they tried for more.  I excused myself for a minute and went to talk to the boys.  They were frustrated because they couldn’t get the one they wanted and only had a “Stupid girl doll”.  So I said, “Hey, I’ll give you $5 for that girl doll and you can keep playing.”  They were on that like flies on honey.  I came back with the doll and was a hero.  Music played.  People cheered.  The crowd went wild.  Ok Maybe I’m exaggerating a tad but she slept with it every night for years.  Then her own little sister came along and wanted Bubbles.  In a fit of anger the youngest one tore one of the pig tails off her head.  That was major drama.  Now that same youngest daughter is angry at my grand-daughter for tearing her dog.  It’s funny how these cycles repeat themselves.

International Paperback @Solsticepublish

I have recently had some inquiries about where people outside the USA can find “The Sapphire Crucible”.  Amazon.com and .co.uk, have both the Kindle version and Print format.  Amazon.ca and .com.au only have the kindle format.  You can order the print version from CreateSpace  at https://www.createspace.com/pub/simplesitesearch.search.do?sitesearch_query=sapphire+crucible&sitesearch_type=STORE I am told by my publisher that they ship internationally.  I don’t know why the other sites only have the Kindle version but this still allows you to order a print copy.  Enjoy the read.

New Age Gaming @Solsticepublish

Many years ago (I’m dating myself here) I loved playing Tetris.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with the game, it has puzzle pieces in different shapes that you must use to form a continuous line in order to get points.  As you progress in levels, the pieces come faster and faster.  I realize it doesn’t sound particularly exciting but it was strangely addictive.  Writing and everything that goes along with it is very rewarding but also very time consuming.  As a result I rarely find time to play games anymore.  That doesn’t mean that they have gone away, mind you.  They have morphed into new strangely addictive games.  I’m not talking about the “Call of Duty”, Tom Clancy, shoot ‘em up games my son is addicted to playing.  They are fine but I seem to have lost the hand-eye-coordination necessary to handle the constantly changing action.  As a result, I die quickly and usually don’t know how.  For this my children give me the title of “Nube”.  I don’t quite have the terminology down but I know enough to know it is not a compliment.  No, the games like Tetris now are ones like “Jewels, Candy Crush, Farmville” and I know there are others but I guess I’m too much a Nube to know them.  Usually the premise for these games is simple.  “Jewels” is a lot like Tetris but you have to line up jewels of the same type to get points.  I don’t know what Candy Crush is but I know I’ve sent like a thousand lives to friends requesting them.  The only reason I have any knowledge of it is because my wife installed it on my phone so she could keep playing after she ran out of lives.  Apparently you combine things to make new candies and advance through a virtual board game.  Here’s the twist.  You only have a certain number of lives and then you can’t play anymore until you do one of two things.  Either wait however long to get more lives (I’m told this is excruciating) or purchase more lives and keep playing right away.  Friends have told me the game is like crack and it is the most addictive one out there.  Some have had to force themselves to quit playing simply due to the obsession with it.  My wife is smart and just plays it on my phone when she’s out of lives.  I don’t know anything about “Farmville” except it seems many of my friends are inviting me to play it.  Perhaps I would try them if I wasn’t so afraid of becoming hooked.  Whoever thinks up these games is brilliant.  How do they make them so addictive?  I suppose the only way to find out is to play them but then I open myself up to being caught up in that digital world.  These games are not bad.  They just are time consuming.  That is really what any gamer is looking for anyway; something to fill their time and make them forget their worries.  Considering the hustle of everyday life and the lack of negative side effects like actual drugs, perhaps these games aren’t so bad after all.  Yet I cannot help but wonder…how do they make them so addictive?

The Consequences of Multitaksing @Solsticepublish

I had been working on Book 3 in the Sapphire Chronicles called “Mandrean Revenge” but mostly stopped some months back in order to concentrate on marketing the first two books, “Quest for the Red Sapphire” and “The Sapphire Crucible.”  I have finally set aside some time to return to my true love, writing, and find myself confronted with a problem.  It has been so long since I wrote the previous chapters that I have forgotten what elements I have already added and what ones have yet to be revealed.  You can’t talk about topic B if topic A was never introduced.  I tried just continuing on with the story as it has been plotted out in my head for years.  Doing this became one-dimensional as my storyboard had disappeared for this book.  Finally I reached the point where I wondered, “What are the other characters doing right now?  Did I already mention this or do I still need to?”  As I was lying in bed the other night I realized what I needed to do.  I had to read everything I had written over again in order to find out where I stood and storyboard out the progression.  So I set to work.  I’ve read through the first few chapters and found the writing to be markedly better than what I was adding on at the end in my “free time”.  A sinking feeling settled in my stomach that every writer feels when they know they have to rewrite something.  Now I must finish reading what has been written in order to find the place where I need to perform reconstructive surgery.  This is not a crisis and is definitely fixable.  What it tells me is that writing is not a multitasking job.  When you are going to write; write.  When you are going to promote; promote.  And so on.  Writing is a fluid symphony of expression.  When you are on a roll (you know that feeling) you need to just go with it.  Let it flow.  Edit it later.  Just get the good stream of ideas typed before your mind moves on and you end up looking for the end of a rope in the dark so you can follow the path once again.  It doesn’t seem like it should be so hard when you consider that writing is the actual fun part of the whole process.  Yet there are so many other things pulling your time and attention away that writing falls on the back burner of time management.  I enjoy rereading my work as I find little tweaks each time that add to the story.  But when you are nearly finished with a book and can’t remember what elements you’ve added, you know your pen has been down for too long.  It is time to dive into my world and set things right.  From now on, when I start a book, I’ll finish the book before I turn my attention elsewhere.  It sounds easier than it is but I refuse to sacrifice quality for multitasking.

Zombies @Solsticepublish

I was just watching “World War Z” and I started to think.  Since the whole Zombie Apocalypse is a popular theme these days it seems like there are major questions that need to be raised.  Wouldn’t they starve to death?  You never see them eat anything in these movies.  But I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt on that one.  Let’s just say they eat humans.  If they change them into zombies by biting them then wouldn’t their meal change while they chewed?  So maybe they eat other zombies.  I don’t buy that one either.  In no zombie movie do they ever turn on each other.  It’s sort of like a zombie fraternity.  They seem to stick together.  I know I’ve touched on this next topic before but why do they never get cold?  Is zombie season only in the summer?  They don’t dress warmly and don’t seem to put much thought into their apparel.  That’s going to lead to some really cold zombies come winter in the colder climates.  Why don’t they dehydrate in the heat?  They never seem to stop for a drink.  Even though they’re “Undead” and all, their human bodies must need some sort of replenishment.  What do they do in their spare time?  You never see them sleep.  Being a zombie has to be a pretty boring life.  When you’re not chasing one of the few healthy humans around you seem satisfied spending your time walking aimlessly around parking lots.  It’s kind of like when Laser Pink Floyd lets out in the real world.  It sounds pretty boring.  “Hey, it’s night time.  No humans around.  I guess I’ll stumble about…Hey, its morning.  No humans around.  Maybe I’ll stumble over here.”  Sounds dull.  Maybe they’ll finish off the humans and start their own entertainment.  They could make shows like “Survivor – Zombie World”, “The Amazing Zombie Race” and “Dancing with the Zombies.”  Although it might be hard to make that work since zombies seem to have no interest in television.  If they were bored enough they could always play “Catch the Human” with one of them pretending to be the human and the others giving chase.  The zombie idea is played out.  With sincere regards to my friends who write in that genre, the suspension of disbelief is simply not there anymore.  We’ve had zombies who can’t be killed, zombies who can’t handle sunlight, zombies who eat the dead, zombies who have to be burned and zombies who can fall in love.  That pretty much covers the zombie gamut.  Sadly, good storylines are often replaced by CGI effects and makeup.  It’s time for something different.  As readers and watchers we need something that is either realistic in the “This could really happen” arena or the other end entirely like Tolkien where it’s a totally different world with totally different rules and you can set your imagination free.  I know where my vote goes.