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

In keeping with some sort of bizarre tradition, apparently I should write a “last blog post of the year” sort of thing. (I’ll get to the beer in a minute)

I was completely unaware that this was something bloggers are supposed to do. Or, maybe it is something that only Authors who are bloggers are supposed to do. Maybe it has something to do with my last name starting with S. I really have no effing idea, to be honest.

Best Of Both Worlds (NO CYRUS REF ALLOWED)

In any case, I didn’t know I was supposed to do this…

And so, here I am… Sitting on the raggedy edge of 2010, with less than one-third of the day left… The day that will put a bullet in the brain of Two-Thousand-One-Zero. Yes… New Year’s Eve, just in case you missed a page on your calendar.

I have a Schlafly Coffee Stout in hand… For those of you not from around here, it is a wonderful Oatmeal Stout from a local Micro… Well, MINI… Brewery that also contains Kaldi’s coffee – another Saint Louis tradition. If you can get your hands on this stuff and you are a beer drinker who enjoys both coffee and stout, you will love it. Guaranteed.

But back to this 2010 thing…

Since I have no clue what I am supposed to say, and since it is New Year’s Eve, I’ll just go all Robbie Burns and get a bit Auld Lang Syne for a bit…

Long, long ago, I wanted to do a lot of things, just like any other kid. But what I wanted to do most of all was make sh*t up, write it down, and have people read it for enjoyment. If possible, I wanted to do that for a paycheck. But I wanted to start in a different spot before I got to that…

My plan for my life was to be a journalist. In particular, a war correspondent. Why? Because there is always war, and war is news. I even went to college with that aspiration, majoring in Journalism AND Photo Journalism. My plan didn’t stop there. I intended to win not one, but two Pulitzers. Once I had accomplished that, I would come home, meet the woman of my dreams, court her, marry her, and then settle down into a house with a white picket fence, have 2.3 children (how the .3 was going to work out, I wasn’t sure) and then write NYT Bestselling novels for a living.

That was when I was 18…

Evil Kat, ice skating at Steinberg, January 2009

Now, with 49 about to touch down in less than two months, which then puts me on a gear down, VFR approach to 50, having fully cleared the outer markers, things are different.

I didn’t become a journalist. Though it was my major I became a Computer/Electronics Tech. But I kept writing. Before I could become widely published and win even one of those coveted Pulitzers, I met the redhead. She was beyond the woman of my dreams. She was everything. So I married her as soon as I could get her to say yes. And, I continued to write. Eventually, novels were published.

And here we are at the end of 2010. A less than good year economywise.

But here’s my thing – I’m married to the most amazing woman on the planet. I have the greatest kid known to man – not 2, not .3, but a solid 1. I may not have a Pulitzer and I may not have hit the NYT – yet – but I write novels for a living. I have more than 10 under my belt now, with two due in 2011. In the past year alone I have hurled more than 500,000 words at paper  – real & virtual – and that’s just Novel, Novella, and Blogs. Not counting Tweets, updates, and micro-blogs…

I’m doing what I love, I have a roof over my head, an amazing wife, great kid, and food on the table… 2010, for all its trials and tribulations, including the loss of good and old friends, hasn’t been the bitch that some others have been.

Besides… Here I sit, writing a “Last Note Of 2010” to you, with a Schlafly Coffee Stout in hand, and 11 more in the icebox. I dare 2011 to top that…

Have a safe and happy New Year everyone…

More to come…

Murv