BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

It was a day like any other day…

Well, that’s not actually true. It was a day like any other day in the first half of January, when just enough snow fell overnight – and was still falling that morning – that the schools canceled classes and left parents of Elementary school kids scrambling to make arrangements. Of course, what with me working from home – I mean, after all, you can write a book pretty much anywhere if you try, so why not at home… But anyway, what with me working from home there wasn’t as much scrambling as there was re-planning.

You see, I can’t work when I have people in my house.

This is not to say that I don’t love having E K and the O-spring at home. I do. Problem is, they are a distraction, even when they are trying very hard not to be. Either they end up making some sort of oddly repetitious noise that is at just the right frequency for me to be able to hear, or I just can’t concentrate because I’d rather be doing something with them than working.

The long and short of it being, on snow days I don’t get any writing done. I find other work to do. Used to be I’d play scrabble, monopoly, or something else with the O-spring. But these days she’s in that zone where dad is only cool if he has something she wants… you know… like money, or an orange that’s already been peeled and sectioned.

Therefore, on this particular day I parked myself in my office to do other work that comes along with the whole author gig. Answering interview questions, doing research, reminding myself to pay my HWA dues then getting sidetracked and forgetting. That reminds me, I need to do that…

Everything seemed to be plugging along okay. O-spring with her nose buried in her new Nook. O-spring singing. O-spring going all Rembrandt on some paper with her oil pastels. And me, sitting in my office, working and forgetting to do things I need to do.

Then I heard it.

“Heard what?” you ask.

The thing that strikes fear into the hearts of parents everywhere.

“Dad?” came the voice from the next room.

“Whatcha’ need, kiddo?” I asked.

“Ummm… Do we have any ‘Duck’ Tape?”

<silence> <blink> <silence>

Finally I asked, “What did you break?”

<silence>

Eventually the answer came. “Umm… Nothing…”

Snow days. Apparently it isn’t just shoveling the white stuff that’s hazardous to your heart.

More to come…

Murv

It’s true. I’m short. Even shorter when my wife wears heels, but that’s a different story…

I’m in the running for a “Shorty Award” – Sort of a big deal, most interesting folks on twitter type of thing. Not just some silly graphic for your blog, either. This is an actual, engraved, lucite statue sort of thing with the fail whale on it and everything. Presented in New York of all places. I actually hate New York. Well, maybe hate is too strong a word. I don’t like DRIVING in New York. I have stories. They aren’t good. But that’s beside the point.

Thing is, I’m in the running (for the moment) in the Author category. I know I can’t win, because Neil Gaiman is in the running too and he has 1.5 million followers. Well… 1.49999 million followers, because I’m sure as hell not voting for him. Plus, Richard Castle, an author who doesn’t really exist is on there too. However, I really think I should be ahead of the “Horny Housewife” and J. K. “More Money Than God” Rowling.

I mean, come on… I’m interesting, right?

So, if you have an active twitter account, I’d appreciated it if you’d vote for me. I haven’t had an opportunity to wear a tux in a while and I look damn good in one. Just ask my wife…

Follow the link below, and don’t forget to add a “reason” after the “because…” or your vote won’t count.

Thank you. I mean that. Seriously. Why would I lie?

More to come…

(Really. You haven’t heard the end of this…)

Murv