An Ulterior Motive

Closing Shop

2010-11-16T12:25:00.001-05:00

I'm closing the blog. As evident as it is, I simply have not been keeping up with it. The novel writing and dayjob have taken up quite a bit of my time. Oh, I'm also told there is something like a life, or something that I should be having some part in, but that's still pretty elusive.
So, for the time being at least, I'm shutting down the blog. Feel free to reach me via facebook, twitter (JM_Diaz) and Tumblr (http://jm-diaz.tumblr.com).
I hope to see you there friends... I do, indeed.

Cheers and Chao...

JMD

I'm Pissed. Why Aren't You?

2010-09-10T09:17:00.001-04:00

Here is something that pisses me off: Britney Spears is in the news? Really? If missing children and unsolved crimes got the air and print time Britney’s cellulite and Lindsey’s crack [head] get, the world would be a happier place. News outlets need a serious reshuffling of their priorities.

Here is another thing that pisses me off: Considering that all Muslims are terrorists. That is idiotic. That’s like considering all Christians as pedophiles because of what a few priests did. Next time I see somebody wearing a crucifix, I’m going to pull my kids away and shove them behind me. And no more churches near schoolyards.

And another thing that pisses me off: Burning the Qur'an. You know who burns books? The Nazi’s, that’s who. That’s all I’m saying.

Another thing that pisses me off: Iran to release one of the three American’s that have been arrested for over a year. ONE of the THREE? What the hell is this? Human roulette? That’s not a sign of good faith, that is insult added to injury. Those three are as much spies as I am a member of the Green Lantern corps (Yay, movie coming! – sorry, ADD moment). At best, the 3 Americans can be charged with walking over the Iranian border illegally. That little foot trick earned them over a year in an Iranian jail! And people complain about OUR treatment of illegals.

And the last thing that has pissed me off today (it’s only 9am): Where the F*CK is the white iPhone 4?? Huh?

The week in WTF News

2010-08-27T09:53:00.001-04:00

- 500 Million Eggs Tainted With Salmonella
Here’s the skinny: A bunch of chickens were fed rat-crapped-on food that made them [the chickens] produce salmonella’ed eggs. I know 500 million sounds like a lot, but when compared to the 80 billion eggs the US produces every year, it does put things in perspective. It’s like you have a better chance of being sodomized on a bus than to get one of the contaminated eggs. I’m just sayin’. But you should stop eating runny eggs. Not only is it gross, but now, potentially dangerous.

- 56 Pound Tumor Removed
Here’s the skinny: An Argentine woman went in to have a lump the size of an orange removed, but Doctors ended up finding a 56 pound tumor stashed inside there, instead. So, here’s my thing, how fat was this woman, or how blind were these doctors to miss a 56 lbs tumor? I mean, I know that it would’ve been easier to detect if we had some kind of “magnetic resonance imaging” device, or a something like a “Computer Tomography scan” appliance, or something… oh, wait. The best part, however, was their answer: “Well, it’s not the biggest tumor we found”. I can’t, I just…. I’m moving on.

- Katrina’s anniversary
Here’s the skinny: Really? Are we celebrating a hurricane? I know it was bad. I really do, but let’s not make an event out of everything. Next thing you know, we will be “remembering” the day that traffic wasn’t so bad. I know a lot of you have those “We will always remember” bumper stickers, and for those of you, I ask you this: Can you remember the Pythagorean Theorem, and a common application for it? Yeah, try remembering stuff like that next time. It’s NOT about remembering as much as it is about learning the lessons.

- Glenn Beck at the Lincoln Memorial
Here’s the skinny: Glenn Beck is planning some major rally at the Lincoln Memorial on the anniversary of the “I have a Dream” speech by Dr. King. He claims it will be a revival of the civil rights movement. And here’s my thing: WTF??? Why are we still paying attention to this ass-clown. Why doesn’t his show get cancelled and his books used as foot-stools in bookstores? MLK’s ideals are a polar opposite to what this douche is preaching. People like him and the other “unmentionable gal” are giving republicans a bad rep (and I’m not a republican). I know he is claiming that it’s not a “political thing,” and that just makes me feel inclined to throw back a shot, and call “Bullshit”.

Current Perspective

2010-08-19T16:25:00.002-04:00

Why do today, the things I can pay someone to do tomorrow?

That's all.

Time is NOT of the Essence

2010-08-02T17:47:00.002-04:00

Being an unpub (unpublished author) has its advantages. Okay, all right; it has A [single] advantage. I can take my time with my story. I don’t have to work under the pressure of a deadline to be met, or to keep a timeline in order to produce a series at the right time. Not that one shouldn’t be disciplined with the craft, but we do have a certain leeway.

My livelihood is not dependent on my book getting published before (insert whatever BS holiday season) in order to maximize its sales potential. Instead, I can afford to read and re-read, and tweak, and flat out redo my story as I see fit. I mean, after all, that is why we write, is it not? If there is a writer out there that got into this business seeking fame and fortune, well, you may want to reconsider your motivation.

All King, Patterson and Brown aside, writing has not been the most lucrative of the arts. One can make a living off it, but not likely to the level of millionaire status that some other artists enjoy. I’m not discouraging, but simply stating my opinion. I count myself lucky to have a day job that allows me to pursue my love, with the passion it deserves. When I do seek publication for my work, it will be because I have taken it as far as I possibly can on my own. It will not be a “good enough” or a “It’ll have to do” kind of situation. For the time being, time is not of the essence.

I do wonder how my pace of writing will be once I do reach the elusive holly grail of publication. What is your experience with the process? Are you a strict scheduler? Or a write by inspiration person?

Noveling and other half-ass accomplishments

2010-07-30T11:34:00.002-04:00

Well hello bloggers and readers. In slim chance that somebody will still actually ready my blog (after my extended hiatus) I announce my writing return here, and in this manner: I am back.

How very anticlimactic, I know.

So, updates. Let’s see… I watched, cried, loved and laughed the World Cup. Spain won, as I hoped they would. All is right in the world. And for clarifications sake, it was the US soccer team that brought on the tears. I really wanted to them in the finals. But we all know how that worked out.

I moved. New house, still Atlanta. Actually, I’m IN Atlanta, not a suburb anymore, so there. That is and will be an ongoing project for the next, oh I don’t know, two or three decades?

Writing: That front is now being tackled. I have left my MS alone for a solid seven weeks, and am now in the process of going through it one more time. I hope it will not take more than 2 weeks to do this part, and after that, “Mend” will be ready for the query slaughter house. I’d like a catchy way to open my query letter. I’ve seen some great ones over at slushpile hell, but I need something memorable. Something along the lines of “Who needs Oprah when you have talent like this. See below for evidence…” What do you all think? It’s a sure shot winner, don’t you?

Glad to be back. I Will pick up the posting pace, I promise. I’d love to know what you all have been up to.

Ta-ta

World Cup, baby!

2010-06-15T12:38:00.000-04:00

That's it, really. Between Soccer games and moving to a new house, you can probably not expect another post until after July 11th.

Cheers, and best of luck kiddos.

Man threatens to kill 9-year-old daughter unless she drinks alcohol

2010-06-04T15:17:00.001-04:00

I'm not kidding. I wish I was. These are the kind of people that should never be allowed to procreate. Read the story HERE

Oh, and the ever classic "Man tries to trade baby for beer and drugs" located in the site page as above. Of just click HERE

It makes me ill. I'm a parent and news like this make me want hurt my knuckles against somebody's face. I was feeling guilty for letting my kids watch "The Fly" and "The Matrix" and introducing them to "Terminator". Suddenly, I'm feeling pretty good about my parenting skills... and that's a stretch.

Why is THIS news?

2010-05-07T12:28:00.000-04:00

First off, I’d like to take my hat off and give a giant bow of respect to the FBI and the NYPD. They went from abandoned, smoking vehicle in Times Square to a viable suspect in custody in a little over 48 hours. THAT, is police work. THAT was news.

Ok then, back to the matter at hand. I’ve been annoyed (more so than usual) by the things I hear in the news that make me go: “Why is THIS news?”

1. People coming out of the closet.
I honestly cannot give a flying ~~fuck~~ something that flies, if you’ve spent the last decades closeted. Really, Ricky Martin, I don’t give a shit. That’s like hearing: “Ending years of speculation, Angelina Jolie has issued a press release confirming, that she is in fact, a Gemini.”
Or “Hugh Hefner is straight.” Let’s be honest here, does it really make a difference? There is some country singer girl that came out this week, and honestly, I left NPR because I just didn’t want to hear it.

2. China.
This is not a joke. I am so tired of hearing in the news about every time China farts. Don’t misunderstand me; I am not one of those crazy isolationists that think “America don’t need nobody.” Far from it. I’ll show you my passport for proof. I love learning and hearing about other cultures, but NPR reports more on china than on our stuff (or so it seems). There was new report about some Chinese man that died. He knew how to make bird noises with his throat. I heard about it on NPR. I. shit. you. not. He wasn’t somebody that helped mankind in some way, nor a civil servant dying to save another, or something else that should merit mention. If this is how the rest of the world reports or reported on the U.S. in their own countries, I can see why American’s don’t tend to bode well in international circles.

3. The World’s Fair.
See China. But also, it’s irrelevant now. The World’s fair had its place in a time when countries needed a means to exchange ideas and impress upon other nations their technological knowhow. And it was a great idea and successful way of doing so. And then came telecommunications, and ultimately the internet. What the hell do I need a world’s fair when I can teleconference and see, SEE your demo from miles away? Call it another conference and move on. Dragon Con needs some competition, maybe the “World’s Con” is up to the challenge. Oh, and don’t let me go without saying that the amount of money spent on this thing is an absurdity the size of the cosmos itself. I mean, dear God (atheist, remember?) there are people literally DYING in Haiti, Chile, Nashville, and many other places. There is giant fucking oil leak just off the coast of Louisiana, but let’s put on a show measured in billions of dollars so that the world notices us. It’s like a little girl whining “pay attention to meeee”… Good job, we noticed.

Sorry for the long post. I know it’s out of character, but just felt bitchy for some reason. I know, try to contain the gasp. Let’s see if the media reports on this as well. Where is Chuck Norris when you need him to roundhouse kick some people?

Granny, 72, Having A Baby With Her Grandson

2010-05-01T12:16:00.002-04:00

Yeah. Munch on that for a second or two.

It just says so much and brings so many ideas - all extremely unpleasant - about what went on in that household. Kind of the same way that "baby shoes for sale, never worn" does. Only in a more demonic way (and I'm an atheist).

The irony is that people are worried about same sex couples having children. This news just goes to show that fucked up people come in all kinds and sizes and in no larger quantity in one group or the other.

Whole story HERE

I apologize if I've induced a gag reflex with my writing. That's not what I aimed for, as inevitable as it may seem.

Kill me, Because I'm Dying.

2010-04-28T12:32:00.001-04:00

When I die and I am to be interred
I want it to be with one of your pictures
So that I’m not frightened down there
So that I don’t forget your face
So that I can imagine I’m with you
And feel a little bit alive

When I die and I have to be interred
I want it to be in flowers and not stones
So that I can give them to you
So that I am not eternally distant
So that I can give a thousand stars
And feel little bit alive
With your face by my side.

I can't take credit for the above. I just thought I'd share these lyrics by Samuel Hernandez.These are amongst my favorite, though some of the soul behind them might have been lost in translation.

Awesome, is made of Chuck Norris:

2010-04-22T16:00:00.000-04:00

I'm having the kind of day that needs a little sunshine. And who better to provide it, than Chuck Norris. Bow, infidels!

Chuck Norris kicked Neo out of Zion , now Neo is "The Two"

Chuck Norris is what Willis was talking about

Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.

Chuck Norris is 1/8th Cherokee. This has nothing to do with ancestry, the man ate a fucking Indian.

The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.

Chuck Norris once ate an entire ream of rice paper and shat out origami swans and Mister Miyagi from Karate Kid.

When Chuck Norris had surgery, the anesthesia was applied to the doctors.

Once a grizzly bear threatened to eat Chuck Norris. Chuck showed the bear his fist and the bear proceeded to eat himself, because it would be the less painful way to die.

These are only a small sample.. feel free to add.

Hit the Wall

2010-04-19T12:24:00.000-04:00

I've hit the first wall on my new WIP. You know the one (if you've ever attempted to write). Since I decided to forgo the outline, I started out with characters, and then proceeded to create a mock synopsis or quick timeline of events, rather. I soon found myself writing entire paragraphs until I hit the point when I asked myself "and then what happens..." and I'm stuck.

No rush. Really.

Engineering can be very endearing, rewarding and time consuming affair. But like all affairs, it must end before the wife finds out. And writing is a very jealous wife.

I'm uncertain whether it is an an advantage or a handicap for my writing, but knowing that my paycheck is not co-relational to my publication means that I can take my time. Not that I've stopped thinking about it. By no means. In fact, the wip has been on my mind, and a few possible scenarios are circling the plot like a pack of hungry sharks (even though I've never seen Nat Geo show sharks hunting in packs). I just don't know what direction to take the story in, you know? Of course you don't.. I've not given even an inkling as to what the story is about.

How do you all deal with these situations? Do you feel that having a full-time, wage earning job helps or takes from your writing?

Awesomer Contest

2010-04-13T19:39:00.002-04:00

Check it out.. its a must! Click here, or here, or HERE.

You can also click here, and here AND Finally THERE.

All Over Again: Starting Anew

2010-04-09T16:07:00.001-04:00

Short post, because - contrary to popular belief - I am writing. I've started working on my new novel. I've put MEND, it's queries and evil, EVIL, synopsis to rest for a bit. Let it marinate, if you will. I'll pick it up again later, and decide if \ when I'll start querying for it.

Meantime, I am writing. I've started with the character profiles and thus far I am very pleased with the people I will be spending the next few months (years?) with. They're an amalgamation of my family and friends. The story will take place partially in my beloved Atlanta, but mostly in the place my family came from.

I wish you all best of luck with your various WIPs and I'll keep you posted of the frustrations and elations of writing this new book. Chat soon kiddies.

Thrown at The Shark

2010-04-04T18:07:00.000-04:00

I have thrown myself at the shark. Thank you all for your wonderful suggestions on my query. Let’s see if the shark takes the bait, and rips my little prose love to shreds. I hope. If I’m gonna get ripped apart, let it be done as fabulously as only the Shark can.

In other news, spring is here. If you’ve been hiding under a rock (with your laptop, albeit) then you’ve been missing out on some fantastic weather. Not that it’s without its mandatory douchebags, but one must take the good with the bad, and the idiotic. For example, why are you walking around in your bikini top with ripped jeans and flip flops? It’s spring, not pool-side summer, idiot. You may think you’re hot, you’re momma may think you are pretty, but that’s where the kind thoughts end. And to Mr. Badass who insists on wearing the wife beater tank top just so you can show off your scabbing shoulder tattoo, let me tell you sir, you are an ass, ass!

Regardless, the sun is out, and while the morons are out too, I still find it to be an opportune time to peel away from the keyboard and soak up some golden rays. Even if I have to stare (and I do stare) at your God’s evidence that he does, in fact, have a sense of humor.

Ass Kickin' Query (as in my ass, getting kicked)

2010-03-28T17:59:00.001-04:00

If youread this in the back of a book, would you buy it?

He attacks. He springs upon his victims with hatred and blind fury, slashing their bodies and shredding the peace of The City Too Busy to Hate. He kills. With no evidence left behind, four Atlanta families have fallen in his wake, and he is not finished.

Fifteen years have passed since the day Jacob Santos opened his eyes and found his mother brutally murdered. For years he has been tormented by an unattainable desire for revenge. Unattainable, until now. Following a murder in a downtown Atlanta neighborhood, a murder that mirrors his mother’s, Jacob receives a message:

“Got another for you.”

It is an invitation from the man Jacob has spent his entire adult life envisioning killing; a provocation to come out and play a deadly game of cat and mouse. And Jacob does just that. The only help the self-proclaimed investigator receives comes from an unorthodox source; the ghost of a childhood friend that haunts both him and the killer alike. Hidden behind the specter’s cryptic messages lays the true link between the hunter and the hunted, and the only means to decipher which is which.

However, unveiling the secret might come at too high a price for the lone investigator’s fragile mind, since the killer he so desperately seeks has never been further than a mere glimpse in the mirror. Now Jacob must find a way to mend his fractured psyche, before the police catch up to him, before another family is slaughtered, before his mind and his soul are lost forever. He cannot fail. Doing so will turn him from the best hope to stop the killings, and into the catalyst of an unprecedented murderous rampage.

Thanks,

If you have a query you need an opnion on, let me know. I can be very opnionated. My wife tells me so all the time.

Sin.Op.Sis

2010-03-17T23:12:00.000-04:00

I sat at my desk tonight fully intending to write my synopsis. Instead I ended up going through my blogfriendies stuff, delighted with all the magnificent posts, and burned through an hour of (what would’ve been) writing time. So much for “intentions,” eh?

It’s not that I’m lazy or procrastinating my synopsis writing. No, not at all. The root of my delay is much more feral and intrinsic than that: I am scared shitless of it. Not that I fear the haunting of my keyboard or the strange noises that are produced in my house after everyone has gone to bed and the lights are dim (and autonomously twinkling) here in the room. I should probably have that looked at by an electrician, or a priest. Whatever. Instead, what I do fear is that I will be unable to capture the essence of my story in those pages. There, I said it. It's really that simple.

I know I will. I know I have to. I know you all will tell me to quit my bitching, and probably offer some cheese with my whine… so thank you (in advance). I simply felt the need to put this in writing, and send it out into the unforgetting and unforgiving internet and not feel that my evening was a total waste. At least I got caught up with my neglected fellow bloggies, found some new folks to follow on twitter and scoured facebook. Yeah, I’m totally on top of my synopsis game, aren’t I?

Curse you novel. I love you, but you are so much damn work.

Just had a Dorkgasm

2010-03-11T13:48:00.001-05:00

TRON: Legacy
and
The Last Airbender

'nough said.

How You Doin'?

2010-03-05T15:51:00.000-05:00

In the lifetime of WIP's, mine is entering its summer. I have completed a sturdy, hefty round of edits and shall begin to transcribe them to my digital copy.

I highly recommend printing out your MS. After three or four rounds of edits on your digital copy, a hard copy will help you catch those ~~retarded~~ evasive mistakes that eluded you in the past.

I'm not saying that mine is ready to go, but I feel much closer now.

On a macabre side note, there was a crime today in my city that eerily resembled the murder scenes of my WIP. It was reported by the Atlanta Journal Constitution here. I couldn't help but notice the similarities, and develop a ~~morbid~~ professional interest in the details.

I know. If there is a hell, y'all make sure to send me a postcard.

A Very Weary Query

2010-02-28T14:32:00.000-05:00

Let's see a show of hands now:

How many of you are ready to query?
How many of you have edited your MS as much as you possibly can?

Do you all send out the queries before your MS is fully polished, or not really, since you know that it will likely get re-edited once an agent accepts it. Notice "once" not "if".

I've been pondering on this for some time now, eventhough I'm not quite there yet. My musings were, I don't want to say interrupted, but rather complimeted by an idea for my WIP. A way of tying up all my murders and my protagonist with a nice silk thread. More on this later.

Anyway, lemme know your thoughts, kiddies. Gotta go 'cause my flight is about to board.

Sent from my iPhone.

Send Hate Mail here, but:

2010-02-19T11:09:00.002-05:00

When your way of conducting business makes people think that flying an airplane into your building is better than dealing with you, it may be time to reconsider your business practices. That said, it was an absolutely senseless loss of life, for all involved.

Psychosomatically Busy

2010-02-16T12:50:00.000-05:00

I'm not just trying to be fansy schmancy with the titles... it trully has been an insane time for me. My for realz life is invading my virtual one, and started rape, pilage and plunder. I don;t know where this all came from, but I am hoping that I can create my own little Hannibal the barbarian, fight back this intruding force.

I miss my blogging buds, and their great posts.

Personally, I blame you.

2010-02-05T13:24:00.001-05:00

$9.99 for an e-book is an outrage. A flat out crime. There is a lot of talk in the media of how publishers are pulling away from the internet behemoth (AKA: Amazon) in favor of the sales model Apple is offering. And why wouldn’t they? After all, everyone knows that Apple corp. is the Mecca of user friendly prices and consumer driven affordability. In fact, their new tablet generated more buzz then the tablet Moses introduced. Even though Moses’ tablet was wireless and buttonless, and even came with its own set detailed instructions, it didn’t generate this much noise. Never mind that the instructions were supposed to be handed down from a higher power.
PFFT.
Apple’s [tablet] comes from a way, way higher authority. The Immortal omnipresence of Steve Jobs. Moreover, it has an app store. Take that, burning bushes.

But I digress.

Instead of letting the market dictate the price of an electronic reproduction (which in reality costs close to nothing to digitize) they are pulling away and opting for the pricier sales model? Perfect.

Way to alienate readers. Great work guys.

That has about as much brains behind it as the recording industry and their struggle to keep CD’s alive. Holding on to the old ways is only chasing away the customers who want information now, and accessible. It’s simple. I’d rather sell 30000 copies of something at $6.99 then 8000 at $14.99. A broader audience is reached, which creates talk and talk beckons more sales. I’m not even going to get into the illegal downloading that is heading our way.

I’m not an e-book reader, having a strong preference for the feel and smell of paper when I read, but I do know more and more people are. The price of things should go down (and not up) to keep customers coming back. If my book comes out as an e-book, I’d want it to be a cheap as humanly possible. I’d rather have people clicking and downloading instead of thinking “gosh, I don’t know if I wanna spend $14.99 for a writer I don’t know.” But people will go out, and buy it, and support the few books that already have an audience, while torpedoing the entire next generation of authors and their books.

Amazon Contest

2010-01-30T15:03:00.001-05:00

If ever a time to get your panties in a bunch was there, this be it!

Well, no, not really. It's just a contest, but hey, if you feel your stuff has the stuff to win, and get stuff in return. Then I say, send your stuff.

Click here for the link and best of luck.

The contest if for any Genre fiction and Young Adult. So good luck kiddies, and go on and shine.

You Like to Write? No Kiddin'

2010-01-29T08:23:00.008-05:00

I’m damn near certain that I am going to piss off some people here and even lose some followers, but I feel this must be said (or written, rather).
I am a blogger, but more than that, I am a reader. I thoroughly enjoy learning what others in the blogsphere are thinking and committing to the internet. That said, I can tell you that on most occasions, I get turned off by the overly lengthy posts. I understand that sometimes we go off on rants, and our fingers take over our reason and pound away paragraph after paragraph. I know I’ve been guilty of that as much as anybody else.

However, I have a feeling that I am not alone in seeing these daunting reads, and either skimming through them, or skipping them all together. There are a few reasons for this. First and foremost, my severe ADD. But there is also the fact that I have several (well over 100) blogs that I follow and try to read at least every other day. If I have to spend 15 to 20 minutes reading just one post, I just don’t have enough time in the day to read them all. Its shame, I know. I’m an ass, I know that too, but some things just need to be said.

I try to keep my posting to no more than three (maybe four) paragraphs. Something that can be read in under three minutes. I’m sure there is a lot of good information in those long posts, but it’s probably been lost on me. Another thing, I don’t read excerpts of unpublished novels. And I always advise against posting them. For once, they tend to be long, and for twice, every agent blog I’ve read says DON’T DO IT. What do you all think? You like and read all the long posts? Or prefer the short and sweet ones?

NOTE: By long I mean the ones that have more than 6 paragraphs, or more than 1000 words.

Characterization

2010-01-27T14:00:00.000-05:00

I know that we are all seasoned character builders and personality developers. We are, go ahead, try to argue against me. No? I didn’t think so. Well, since that’s already been established, I am going to teach you a lesson. Yes, you, oh master of characterization. Here is an example of how a character can be so well out of “character” and still ring absolutely true to the person:

Boy: (6 y/o): “Ugh, I hate that.”
Male CareTaker (30 y/o): “What’s that kiddo?”
Boy: “That, that show.”
MCT: “Why?”
“Because it’s full of girl stuff. I hate girls.”
“You can’t hate girls, kiddo.”
“But I do.”
“What are you gonna do when you grow up then? Marry a Boy?”
“Ugh. I said, I hate girls. NOT women.” Boy rolls eyes.

Not in a million years did I see that coming from a six year old, yet in hindsight, it is a totally appropriate response from THIS six year old boy. Needles to say, I lost my shit when he said it and could no longer remain in the room with a straight face. It was a few hours later that I was able to rationalize and see how it could be applied to my writing. As it turns out, I was handed a gem of a character trait, from a 6 year old. Awesome.

The Week in Review

2010-01-25T01:06:00.001-05:00

Cough, sneeze, fever, strange mutant flegm, cough, headache, etc... And that was just my son. Now it's my turn. Perfect.

A Writer’s Marriage

2010-01-15T12:30:00.002-05:00

I am married to writing. And like all marriages, we go through our up’s and down’s, our shimmies and our shakes. It isn’t perfect, but to throw some cheese out there, we were born to be together. From making up stories to entertain friends and family to the ubiquitous tale to get out of trouble, it’s always been there. I did manage to get out of some heat with my parents for my creative ~~lie~~ story telling alone.

Currently, it’s safe to say we are on a down slope. But even these times are helpful. They help in me create the appropriate mood for certain scenes that require a bit of a downer attitude or a bit of a tempered moment. In addition, it helps me appreciate those few precious moments when I it’s just me, my laptop and espresso. And yes, it’s okay to bring in props into the marriage. Some people use, well, I’m not going there, by espresso is our thing.

So, since you all are the closest to a writer’s marriage counselor(s) I know, I’d like to tell you that I have printed out my MS, and am reading it out loud and catching all kinds of little mistakes. Things that I should’ve seen before, as they were obvious enough in reading, that now I feel like an idiot and a half for not catching them earlier. Writing and I are trying to patch things up or mend them (pun intended), but these issues will have to be worked out before we can start honeymooning again.

The definite upside is that being married to writing, means that my actual wife is more like my adulteress lover. A title she may frown upon, so we shall keep this between us. It does, however, keep things interesting, fresh and exciting. Fireworks, baby. Fireworks.

Do you (or a beta reader) catch things in your writing that send your hand flying toward your forehead, with the thought of “How could I’ve been so careless?” Am I alone? Insert violin music….fade.

Sufferin' Subterfuge!

2010-01-07T11:42:00.000-05:00

Where in the hell is time going? I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, but my job is getting in the way of my love *sigh*.

No MS progress, still. I do have to give a special thanks to my beta readers, who have taken the time to look over, enjoy and suggest on my WIP. I thank you all and really do appreciate you.

Also, I need to post about my New Orleans trip while I still feel the crawfish heartburn rolling in my insides. Yeah, its gonna be like that! ;)

best wishes to you all, and hope to catch up soon.

A Quickie

2010-01-02T01:34:00.000-05:00

I'm writing from Nawrlens' darlens'. Not that I have been a slacker, well, yeah.. I have. And it's been great. I've been on vacation for quite some time now, and I'm dreading the eventual return to the daily grind. However, I have all my blogger buddies, and this, the quick post. I hope y'all had a great time celebrating the end of the year and welcoming the new year. I wish the best of luck for the next year, but not a day more. ;)
Kidding.

Post more soon.

Chao.

'Tis the frakking season..

2009-12-23T10:21:00.003-05:00

Merry New Years, and Happy Christmas, and all that jazz.

I do hope that you all have had chance to work and make some progress on your various WIP’s. I know I have not. Not at all. I’ve been a lazy movie watching, wii playing, procrastinator (on my time off). I’m about to go on vacation, and I’m not seeing much work done over those days either. Maybe some, but I’m not prioritizing it.

I’m giving time to the things that had been falling by the wayside: Playing video games with my kids, lounging around with the wife, and trying to get all Christmassy. I will say that it is hard trying to convince two boys that a cackling old man that should be on weight watchers, whom has the overseeing habits of a peeping Tom, and also enjoys having little children on his lap is the kind of person they need to please. Seriously, all run on sentences aside, how am I supposed to sell THAT? If it were anybody other than Santa, we’d be hearing all about in on Court TV. Forgive me, TRUE TV now.

In any case, enjoy your spiked eggnog and that drunk uncle everybody wants to pretend (and wish) he didn’t keep showing up every year. Have fun seeing all those people that told you “you need to grow up,” and give them money (just because you have more than them now) while affirming that you decided it was best not to grow up. Oh, and above all be Merry, or Mary, or whatever your cross-dressing preferences are.

Ho, ho, ho

PS. I forgot to mention the sign I saw the other day. it read: "Jesus: the reason for the season". Is that who I have to blame? I'd like to have a word with him, please.

Off Ice

2009-12-17T19:01:00.001-05:00

I've decided to chisel out my MS from the ice block I placed it in just before Thanksgiving weekend. It was hard to do, I admit, and seeing my little paper spawn frozen, tugged at my heart as emotion threatened to drown my eyes.

Okay, okay. Maybe it wasn't THAT hard. It was nice, however, to give myself a little self-dictated vacation from writing. Alas, the time has come now to give one last read through before I delve into the hell that is query letter writing and synopsis typing.

I hope my eyes are fresh enough to catch all those mistakes that have eluded me already. I'm wearing my hunter eyes. To the common folk they appear as a mere squint, but trust me, they are predatory and menacing. Be afraid ill placed comma and awkward dialogue tag, for I am coming for you, and all your rapscallion friends. I shall try to focus on voice consistency and grammar errors. The story itself will not change. In any case, wish me luck, and tell me of your writing process. What do you find that helps you the most during editing. Besides booze that is.

Chao for now.

The Weekend Review

2009-12-15T10:07:00.000-05:00

I drank, I smoked, I shopped, I cursed Christmas and all its merry bell ringers and braindead shoppers (me included). I drank.

Writers: Mind Your Business!

2009-12-10T12:59:00.003-05:00

Seriously, we should. For those of us who hope to profit from our passion one day (if not already) we need to accept the reality that this is a business. Oh, but you don’t write for the money, you write because you love it, right? That’s crap. Then don’t try to get published. Just read your stories to yourself. But, oh, you write for yourself, not for others? Bullshit. Saying that is the equivalent of singing in the shower, and even then, at the very least you have a small audience. Even if he is your trusty canine companion.

Treat your craft with the passion it deserves. Not just when you are crafting, but when you are talking about it. If you are unpublished, (a minority, right?) talk to people about what you do. Tell them about your story, get them excited about YOUR creation. Get them to want to know more. Send them to your blog, to your website, to your facebook. Today, we have advantages that novelists of the past never had. And yes, it’s okay to be called a novelist, even if my grandmother thought that “novelists” were not well thought of in high society. In today’s day and age, we can network faster and easier than ever before. Use the tools that are there at your disposal.

When you get published, keep up the hard work. So you have an agent, an editor and a publisher. You have that little ISBN number assigned to your work, and your paper baby has flown the nest into the neatly stacked shelves of bookstores. Guess what? Your work is far from done. Keep talking; yell to people that YOU have a book that deserves to be read. Hand out business cards like toothbrushes in a dental convention. Go to parties (the hard-life, I know), always keep something that will make people remember your book. It is your job to make the book sell. I know the writing should sell itself, but let’s be honest for a moment, people need to know where and how to find your book first.

I’m tired of seeing people that are desperately passive with their desires, or that feel that what they have created is so fantastic they don’t have to do anything at all to succeed. Look at the most successful brands in the world, and you tell me how much you think they spend on marketing alone. Rant finished.

Public Query Slushpile

2009-12-08T13:23:00.001-05:00

So, I have given this query writing business yet another stab. i think this makes four. If I was to take this many stabs at anything else, I'd probably end up arrested. I posted it on the "Public Query Slushpile" blog. Its a neat concept created by writer, for writers.

You should definitely go check it out. Not just my query, but the others that are there. Some are good, some really need help. You decide which is which, and hey, you just might pick up a think or two. You never know.

Let me know what you think. Ciao, for now, kiddies.

Yup

2009-12-07T19:11:00.003-05:00

Monday. New week, new opportunity to make it a good one. New chance to start out right. And It’s already fracking blown!
On the other side, I did win the contest over at Quixotic’s blog. So, yay for me…. Totally padding myself on the back here. Even though my triumph had nothing to do with skill, but rather luck of the draw. I still win, and the rest didn’t. Nada-nada…

It's Peanutbutter QUERY time: Again!

2009-12-01T20:19:00.000-05:00

Thank you all for your time and invaluable feedback. If anybody happens to come by the Atlanta area, let me know. I'll buy you a beer, or ten. I mean it. I am a man of my word. Here is my second version of my possible query letter. If you don't mind my asking, let me know how it can be honest. Go ahead, rip it. And Matt, yes, you can be meaner! ;)

Dear Stellar Agent of superb and unquestionable taste:

I am seeking representation for my novel entitled MEND.

He attacks. He springs upon his victims with hatred and blind fury, slashing their bodies and shredding the peace of the city too busy to remember. He kills. With no evidence left behind, four families have fallen in his wake, and he is not finished. Only now there are two very different men, with two very different motives, hoping to bring an end to the worst killer Atlanta has seen in decades.

The first is Lieutenant Nate Barker. Intelligent and methodical, Barker must solve the case of his career while battling a skeleton that refuses to stay in the closet. The other is Jacob Santos. A man obsessed by the messages the killer sends him after he strikes and haunted by the inscriptions left for him at each crime scene.

Each step Jacob and Barker take bring them closer to unveiling the secret that links them to the killer, and to the dark chasm that lies in its revelation.

MEND is a Crime Fiction novel, complete at 70,000 words.

Respectfully,

J.m. Diaz

Stoopid Homecoming

2009-11-29T16:19:00.002-05:00

Last day in Florida. I'm having mixed feelings, and I fracking hate mixed feelings. I miss Atlanta. I miss my starbucks, and my writing time.
But I hate to leave West Palm. I hate to leave my mom and sister, and not see them again for a few more months. To see my kids play with the only gramma' or abuelita, they've really known and been able to play with.
That sucks, and it almost makes me want to move here, if I didn't miss Atlanta so much.

It's Peanutbutter QUERY time!

2009-11-23T20:31:00.001-05:00

That's right.. that's right, lets dance, lets... ah, crap. I don't know that song. I have no clue how the lyrics, or even the beat goes. I heard my son singing it once, and that lead into a 30 minute session of "WTH?"
Anyway, take out your red pens kiddies, here is your chance to take as many cheap shots at me as you'd like. I'm posting my query letter for you all to criticize the bejesus out of it. So go ahead, please, lemme have it!

Dear Stellar Agent of superb and unquestionable taste:
My name is J.m. Diaz and I am seeking representation for my first novel entitled “Mend”.

GOT ANOTHER FOR YOU.

It was just a simple text message that marked the beginning of the end to Jacob Santos’ life. Like a cockroach running from the light, his legs sprung into action before his brain knew where they were talking him: Toward the worst serial killer Atlanta had seen in recent history.

Entire families are being slaughtered by a murderer that leaves little to no evidence behind, and he has chosen one person to be his captor. Jacob Santos. A man with an inexplicable compulsion to decipher the killer’s messages. While feeling responsible for the lives the killer has and will take, Jacob finds his obsession further fueled by the macabre inscriptions left for him at each of the crime scenes. The handwriting that inked the bloody messages echo from Jacob’s past, rustling memories of a boy he saw buried over fifteen years ago. Each step Jacob takes brings him closer to unveiling the secret that links him to the killer, and to the dark chasm that lies in its revelation.

Unbeknownst to Jacob, Lieutenant Nate Barker of Fulton County Criminal Investigations Division is assigned to the Atlanta slasher killings. With nothing but his analytical mind, a prescription drug addiction and a rookie partner, he too must find this killer, while attempting to keep the reins on his disintegrating marriage. Walking a tight rope between duty and family, Lieutenant Barker has a gnawing feeling that the killings go deeper than just ritualistic serial murder. After four families have been slaughtered inside of six weeks, Detective Barker is racing against time to find this killer, before his or another family is lost, along with his last shred of purpose, his faith or his life.

Mend is a 70,000 word, completed novel.

Thank you for your time and all that Jazz. Please let me know where you think I can improve this.

Thank you all.

JD

V: as in “Vicariously living through the 80’s”

2009-11-19T16:43:00.002-05:00

I’m not a show basher. Unless Steven Segal is in it, then it’s all fair game, but that’s a different post. No really, look it up. I’m talking about the rehashing of 80’s classic shows, the TV entertainment that helped raise me. Well, maybe I exaggerate. Television did not help raise me. It totally raised me, on its own. Much like a single mother on the run from its powerful and abusive ex-husband, cinema.

That said, I confess I am watching the new ABC show “V” through nostalgia goggles. They are like beer goggles, only filled with salty liquid, I think you gal’s call ‘em tears. (Please forward all hate correspondence to my email). Anyway, so yeah… V, right? It’s not bad. It has offered me 180 minutes of entertainment, but you are not here to read me rambling about how I like the show. I know you want to hear my bitching, so let’s dive right into that.

Bailey? I mean, really? Actour extraordinaire Scott Wolf portrays the daring and dashing Chad Decker. A reporter that apparently gets in “the know” early on with the V’s, sacrificing a slice of his soul for a few exclusives. Now, as realistic as that last bit may be (no sarcasm here) I’m having a hard time with the actor whose previous credits include the edgy “Party of Five” show, which lasted about 4 season’s too many. Any show that spat at us Jennifer Love-Hewitt, Neve Campbell and the other little whiny bitch that played the little sister, must be a creation of Satan himself. Mathew Fox gets a free pass for being in Lost and Speed Racer, but I digress. Marc Singer was Bailey’s predecessor in the original series. Marc the-beastmaster- Singer. The man wrestled tigers, and carried ferrets uncomfortable close to his crotch, while trotting around in a loin cloth.
I shit you not.
For his role on V, Singer graced us with white sneakers, jeans so tight they had to be a risk to his testicular health, a bomber jacket and a shirt (or several) that had evidently lost - at least - the five topmost buttons. How can ABC expect to have Bailey fit in those shoes? At least they had sense of not trying to have him fit in those pants. Nobody could. Really, I tried. I’m a uniballer now.

Moving on. Anna: The new leader of the V’s. I don’t know and don’t care about the actress playing her. Here’s all I care about it: The slope of her eyebrows is a snow skier’s wet dream. She is the most corporate, generic person I have ever seen and I cannot stop from comparing her to the womannequins in the opening credits of Nip\Tuck. However, I think she has a secret, and no, it’s not that the V’s are really a reptilian race that have come to earth to steal our water and turn humanity into their own personal Golden Corral. Well, maybe, but that’s not all. She’s got a stache. A well plucked, waxed, and shaved mustache. But you can see the green of it growing when the light hits just right. And with those phantom whiskers, she is supposed to be the new Diana, so deliciously played by Jane Badler in the original series. Wow. Anybody who saw V, in real time, had the same thing to say: “Diana is hot! I don’t care if she is lizard.” Hotness that transcends species: We should all strive for that. She was hot, in an evil stepmother, leather-bound dominatrix, with crunchy hair, kind of way. You should really check them out. Both the old and the new series, for a few laughs, if for no other reason.
That’s it. I’m done. Let me know if you agree, disagree, or have no idea what in the world I am talking about.

Oh, Brother, Why Art Thou?

2009-11-15T14:23:00.003-05:00

I love my brother. I don’t blog about him enough, but I should. Really. I have mentioned him before in passing, but he definitely deserves his own post. He deserves a multitude of his own posts. The man is a character.

He is my younger brother, six and a half years my junior. Growing up as children, the gap was too big for us to really share, except for the games boys play at home when nobody is looking. Hide and go seek in a twelve by thirteen bedroom, fort building from sheets and pillows and the infallible Millennium Falcon. Things like that.

However, it was not until he hit his teens that we really started seeing eye to eye. It was during these crucial years that our father passed away, sending the boy into a spiral that scared the shit out of me. He had some rough patches, traveled some seedy roads, until it all came to an abrupt stop. Our entire family spun out of control during this time before the gravity of genetics reeled us back into stable orbits. In that time, my brother went from being that troublesome teen and metamorphed into an outstanding man. He is a person with enough personality and character to fill a novel. A whole series.

Just last night, as my wife and I were strolling the streets of a Cabbage Town (will blog about this place later), I suddenly burst into laughter.

“What?” she asked.
“Nothing, just remembering,”
“Must been funny,”
“Remember when brother was over at the house, talking about that girl?”
“The short one, that nobody knew was short?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“What about her?”
“Well, I just remembered him saying that she wore those giant heels, that she couldn’t even walk in, and she looked like…”
At this point, brother put down his beer, and stood up, curling his hands into his chest to make them smaller. He then inclined his body forward and took one exaggerated step in front of the other, before he turned to us and said [about the girl] “She fuckin’ walks like a T-Rex, in those shoes.”

Tell me, how could you not laugh your ass off at that. He is plagued with things like that, which enliven any situation.

I also have a sister, thirteen years my junior. But that is another post all together. She is a wonderful girl, with whom I share an uncanny understanding. It’s almost a psychic connection, if I was to go all cheesy on you all, which I am not. I love my brother and sister. I draw inspiration from them both, which only makes me sad when I see or hear about siblings that don’t even speak with one another.

The Greatest Man I Will Ever Know.

2009-11-13T09:55:00.003-05:00

Well I’m well aware
I know it all too well, I do.
I truly understand
What always in the end,
Comes true.

Your passing left me numb
‘twas a stab to the heart,
It cleaved our home in two
And carved our family apart,
Yes, it’s true.

Never told you, I loved you
Never admitted,
I looked up to you.
Never said that I’d miss you,
Yes, all this is true.

I think back everyday
To what your face would be today,
The things that you would say,
To your children of today,
It’s still true.

You forgave me all my sins,
Never let me down
Showed me trough your grins,
Why I shouldn’t frown,
This is true.

Never told you, I loved you
Never admitted,
I looked up to you.
Never said that I’d miss you,
All of this is still true.

Now I have to wait,
To look upon your face
For the day that I die
To meet you on the other side,
It’ll be true.

Can I do this? Will I make it?

2009-11-10T14:28:00.000-05:00

Oh, ferfacks sake! I'll try.

Fleeting Time

2009-11-04T12:40:00.001-05:00

Dow Jones, Gold and Silver indexes and Oil prices have nothing on time. Time, that little tick-tock, is the most precious commodity there is. It is its scarceness that inflates its value and it’s become obvious to me that its availability decreases as we age.

Similarly to my peers and colleagues, I more often than not find myself wishing for that trophy day we call “Friday”. We wish for Monday to kiss our collectives asses, and Tuesday through Thursday to hurry on by without any more presence than a deaf\mute in a concert. But Friday, ah Friday arrives, decked in white suite and a walking cane, spreading it’s coolness on us, reminding us why we live.

Friday should be called Soulday.

The time when the collective human spirit is revitalized and once again we revel in our livelihood, wanting to squeeze every drop out life. If life gives us lemons, then on Friday is when we make lemonade.

Sad. We are wishing away our life for the sake of one day, and the promise of a two- day break. I know that for most of us, Monday through Thursday are just other crap routine days, but crap or not, it is our routine. Our days. The kind that will never come again. What happens if we die today, or tomorrow and never make it to Friday? Will we feel cheated because we missed out on your Soulday? Enjoy each day, all of them, even the crap ones; they are the last of their kind.

This thoughtful moment brought to you by espresso-in-my-veins.
Now, go forth and reproduce, or jerk off… whatever.

Muerte y Candy.

2009-10-31T13:36:00.002-04:00

Ghouls and other of my family and friends shall try to have fun tonight. I hope you do too. Whether you have kiddies or not, today is one of those days when we can all go out and celebrate. Unless you are a Jehova's witness or stict Mormon. If so, sorry dude, what a drag.

That reminds me, evidently the Hallows eve par-tea, is a westerner thing. Over the distant mysterious lands if Japan, it is not the norm to gather up all the children in a case of nationwide sugar-rush. Who knew?

Anyway, I haven't had much time in the past two weeks for my literary exploits, but I did do some editing. It feels good to be making progress.

All right peeps, I must get ready to begin the candy overdose (and ensuing tummy aches) that is scheduled for today. Go scare somebody, or get scared, or get candy, or go get some.

Just go...

Sent from my iPhone

No Beer-Can Crushing Boobies. Sorry

2009-10-25T16:23:00.000-04:00

I know where I was supposed to go, but as you all know, plans change. Fast and suddenly. So was the case yesterday. As tempting as it was to see Blondie squeeze our discarded cans of PBR between her un-inflated bosoms, we decided against it. We visited my cousin J’s house, and saw the family for a bit, and met a couple of her friends. One of them, “A”, had an unnatural fear of going home and finding a large black man with a machete waiting for her in her living room. When asked if a large white man with a knife would be different, she admitted it might still be bad…. But fear took the form of a black guy for her. Go figure. Apparently nun-chuck wielding ninjas and gun toting Mexican’s are just not scary enough. Needles to say, she did not come with us, I don’t care how cute she was.

So, the three of us, (J, H, and G) headed to a little area called East Atlanta. A quaint place surrounded by good beer drinking spots and a myriad of personalities that continually add spice to my city. It was three or four bar-hops later that we ran into some folks I haven’t seen in months. It was the perfect finish to a great evening. I saw so many personalities, travelled the city in the company of the folks that I love, and had the opportunity to chat with people which only enrich my life, and the voices of my characters.

It is on nights, weekends, and weeks like these that I find inspiration, true inspiration, to continue my work, and keep writing. I want to write them all into my book, though I know it only make it over crowded. I will, however, write them all in my books. All the ones to come – published or not – I want to capture at least a sliver of the fantastic people I have been so lucky to encounter.

And so I say, with only a small smirk: Thank you Atlanta. Good night.

Beer Crushing Boobs

2009-10-24T14:50:00.002-04:00

I forgot to mention in my previous post that Blondie, the not so young stripper, crushes beer cans with her boobs for a modest fee of $10. Awesome.
This is the whole spectacle to which I hope to corrupt my brother with. Not that he needs any more corrupting, but it can't hurt.

Blondie may not be in the spring of her life, but she is definitely of high spirits, or high, on something. Period.

Anyway, I'll follow up with some more later...

Good weekend y'all!

Veteran Bosoms Galore

2009-10-20T19:14:00.001-04:00

Now, now, before somebody goes throwing a shoe at me or something (that is the latest in insults, right?) I am not being facetious. Well, maybe a bit, but lemme tell you, that was not just a shameless attention grabbing header.

This last weekend a good friend of mine was celebrating another spring under her belt, and what other way to extol the occasion than a strip club? Yes, there was dinner, and a haunted house, but all that is inconsequential and you’ll see just why in a moment.

We made our way into the heart of Atlanta to a little abode named The Clermont Lounge. Stashed in the lobby of the old hotel bearing the same name, The Clermont is a bar unlike anything I, and likely you, have seen. Ever. Ever. At first arrival the place is small, with a permanent cloud of smoke that hovers just above head level. It is loud. And it is packed. This is not your usual strip club attendance though, but rather a gathering of people of all kinds. It’s the cliff notes of Atlanta’s urbanites. You have it all, but that is still not the interesting part.

Upon taking my first step, and being shoved inside by the bouncer saying “Move from the doorway,” I candidly ignored him and turned to the bar to see something that will forever stay with me. A naked woman! (Insert dramatic theme song here).

No, I’m not that prudish. Did I mention that the naked woman, was a naked sixty-something year old, black woman with a blonde wig that would put Rupaul to shame, shaking her humongous ass which could only be balanced on the bar by her keg-like gut, all while slapping titties swindled around the air not unlike a cowboy lasso? (breathe)… Oh, how could I have NOT mentioned that?

I shit you not. The Claremont lounge is known for that. Her name is Blondie. Along with other strippers who have seen much better days, long, long, long ago, they grace the place in short-shorts that are barely visible (marked by mountains of cellulite) and boobs that are competing for attention with their belly buttons. And guess what? We loved it. We loved all of it. Those women, as certifiably insane as they are, are making a killing. The sheer personality it takes to get out there is mind boggling, but the amount of confidence and fun these ladies (yes, they are ladies) are exuding is enough to blow you away. Pun totally intended. It is deliciously awful.

I left, I tried to leave, but part of me stayed. Left behind in those decrepit walls and thighs. And there is only one thing I can do about it. I must return, to get that little bit of myself back, but this time, I must take my brother, and my cousin, and my bud, and his buds, and as many people as I can imagine, because this task is not one that should be taken by one man alone. That would just be creepy.
That’s it… now back to my regularly scheduled MS editing. G’night.

Break‘s Over Kiddies

2009-10-16T14:10:00.000-04:00

I was taken aback the other day when a colleague confided in me that he had an epitaph the previous night. For a brief moment, thoughts of gloom and concern scoured my brain. A second later I found myself having to contain the insatiable desire to burst out laughing, spittle sprinkling his face, in full roars of laughter.

“You mean, and epiphany, right?”

Yeah. Way to go collegial educational system.

Alas, I had my own – dare I say it? – epiphany later that day as well. And of course, it directly related to my writing. In speaking with my wife about the day-to-day “how was work stuff” it suddenly hit me, like a slap square on my forehead, and I could almost hear the [now] ominous Doh!

She was asking for my opinion on how to approach a certain situation at her job, with her boss and colleagues. And I, being the least qualified to so, proceeded to give her my advice based on the personalities of the people she labors with everyday. I knew which tactic would work best with each one because I knew them. I knew their likes, their pet peeves, and because of that, their possible reactions. Even though I have only met them once, and for like two minutes at best. But I knew them through her. Her stories of her work day and such had been so excellent that I felt like I knew these folks. Hence, the epiphany.

This is how I want my readers to feel about my characters. I don’t want to tell you who my character is; I want you to discover him\her. To figure them out. I’ve spent so much time on crafting clues for the plot, for the reader to figure out the mystery of my novel as they read along, that I have somewhat neglected the people in it. Leave it to a self declared anti-social to forget about the people, right? This has inspired me, not to recreate my characters, but to quit restraining the natural voices I know they each have, and let them play on the page. If my wife, who does not speak English natively, can craft her coworkers in my head so well, surely, surely I can do at least the same. Maybe she should be the writer. And then I can dedicate myself to epitaphs.

Regardless, break is over me. It’s time to get back to work. What about you? How’s your WIP coming along? Oh, and I have to give a shout out to L.T. Host for getting a mention over at Nathan Bransford’s Blog for her first paragraph. It truly is an attention grabber. Great work!

Processes of an Overworked Mind

2009-10-15T15:45:00.002-04:00

Damn!

No Motivation = Mondayvation.

2009-10-12T14:12:00.003-04:00

I could blame it on the weather, I suppose. Summer blew a kiss and waved goodbye a while back, granting passage to colder days, greyer clouds and rain. Boy, has it rained. It’s just dreary. If any of you caught a glimpse of the news last week, I am pretty sure CNN was covering the submerged city of Atlanta. Heck, CNN’s headquarters proximity to the flooding was too close for comfort.

I would like to get some writing done later, but quite frankly, it’s just not in me today. I tried to knock out a few chapters last night but that proved as effective as a three-legged pup in a dog race. My characters would not speak to me. I felt like I needed to apologize to them for something I had no idea I had done, and had no clue why it was wrong, but it was most definitely my fault. It was like being married to them. Not a bad thing, overall I guess, but I need to hear their voices before I start drumming the keyboard and I just can’t.

Maybe I’ll go and buy a box of chocolates and some flowers for me them and wait a day or two until the pissyness evaporates along with the rest of the downpour out here. I think we just all need a break. We’ve been spending way too much time together over the past few weeks in this cramped brain of mine, and everyone – even imaginary voices – needs some space. Does this happen to you as well, or am I the only pms’ing schizophrenic?

Proof there is a God: Steven Seagal

2009-10-09T15:31:00.001-04:00

With a hearty bag filled of hell yesssedness I write to you today about the greatest Lawman in the 600 years of recorded American History. That’s right; I’m including the Vikings and Dan Brown’s plot minions, the Templars.

Steven Seagal has a new TV show entitled “Lawman”. Just as my angst for the Zen master was turning to an incisive itch, here comes the man himself, not to the pompous giant silver screen, but to the less pretentious 50 inch, flat screen, High Definition, LCD screens that occupy our humble American homes. For those of you misfortunate souls that have not basked in the greatness that is Seagal (hence forth “The Seag”), he can single handedly disarm a gang of Armani clad Ninja’s, without as much as breaking a sweat, or facial expression. He loves all sentient beings, especially the ones he can judo-chop into peacefulness, and is not afraid to die in movies that advertise him as staring in. What? You don’t remember that you say? I present you “Executive Decision,” where he dies in the first ten minutes. That was enough though. Ten minutes of The Seag is sufficient to permeate his Omni-presence throughout the movie. My only regret is that for the remainder of the movie we were left with John Leguizamo to fill in The Seag’s shoes. How dare they presume to replace Him with Leguizamo? Another lazy Mexican stealing the white-man’s jobs! But I digress. In “Lawman” we will be privy to the revelation of a secret: The Seag has in fact been a cop for twenty years. How cool is that shit?

Evidently, all those years of high brow acting and slightly fictitious plot lines were but a mere cover for what in reality was a man of the people. And by man, I mean superior being, and by people I mean reality TV consumers. There is no other man, alive or dead that embodies the absolute awesomeness of cool macho bravado like The Seag. He doesn’t require a frown, or a grunt to express his disgust. Not him. He simply looks at you, through you, in you. This is the kind of self-discipline that can only be acquired by being a full Japanese-English bilingual, a seventh-level aikido master, and a bonafide enemy of the California branch of the Yakuza.

His new reality show is just that: REAL. It is the culmination of twenty years of a [apparently secret, deep undercover] police career. It could be nothing other than a reality show because this earth has never, ever been walked by any man with the capacity to appropriately portray Deputy Seagal. Except maybe Jean-Claude Van Damme, maybe. Maybe. So go on and get your panty liners ready kiddies, because this show is gonna be so hot, you can do nothing but get wet over it.

Here’s to you Seag: Kampai!

Darth Query: How did this work?

2009-10-07T20:17:00.006-04:00

Seeing some of the stories that have become American classics, I got to thinking (yes, it DOES happen) what the queries must have looked like. Here is the best my [currently] inebriated brain could come up with. It needs no introduction, but perhaps only a little Query Shark help:

When Luke, a young farmer on the planet Tatooine, receives a message from a droid he recently acquired, he is thrust in the middle of an intergalactic war that has been waging for generations. With a guidance of an old hermit, strong in a force called, the force, Luke embarks in an adventure that will take him from the desolate deserts of his home world, to the desolate nomad spaceships of the interstellar rebellion. In a battle for the freedom of the oppressed people of the empire, Luke must battle an evil dark lord for the salvation of the known galaxy. Darth Vader, the dark lord of the evil galactic empire, maintains a tight grip and control of the multiple planetary systems in his realm, extending his fiendish rule over land and space.

In Han Solo, an intergalactic smuggler, Luke finds an unlikely ally in his fight against the tyrannical forces of Darth Vader and the empire. Together, with Obi-wan, the mystical hermit, they must find a way to destroy the ultimate weapon of submission. The Death Star. A moon size base that wobbles at less than impressive speeds toward unsuspecting planets and possesses enough firepower to destroy an entire world with a scientifically improbable death ray. In his journey Luke forges alliances that can help him become the new master of the unequivocally named “force” or perish in his attempt to destroy the forces of evil. Filled with teenage angst and a hint of incest, Star Wars is a 175,000 words, complete science fiction novel, ready to be submitted for your review.

Thank you, and I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Jorge Lucas

Absent: ab-suhnt

2009-10-07T14:19:00.000-04:00

ab⋅sent

–adjective
1.not in a certain place at a given time; away, missing (opposed to present ): absent from class.
2.lacking; nonexistent: Revenge is absent from his mind.
3.not attentive; preoccupied; absent-minded: an absent look on his face.
–verb (used with object)
4.to take or keep (oneself) away: to absent oneself from a meeting.
–preposition
5.in the absence of; without: Absent some catastrophe, stock-market prices should soon improve.

All those things stated above apply to me and my blogging. I'm sorry dear friends and readers. It's me, not you. I just want you to be happy, and I'm no good for you.

;)

All cliche breakup lines aside, I have been busy. I have a nifty idea for a post I'm working on, that I expect you will like. Think: Star Wars.

'til soon.

Characters Are People Too

2009-10-01T23:33:00.002-04:00

In my writing, I’ve discovered – okay, I admitted – that my characters need work. Not in my head, but in paper. I know my characters. I know them! But that doesn’t matter. It does, but not really. What does matter is that you (put down the ice-cream scoop and read this), yes you, know my characters. What does matter is that halfway through the book you have a good idea of what the character would do. You (my beloved reader) should freely be able to identify the many characters voices from the narrator or other characters. They’re all different. You know, like people.

I know that we are talking about a two-dimensional medium, but that is no reason for our little imaginary friends and foes to be flat. I read somewhere that flat characters should be abolished, “we only want round characters,” was said. I’m going to have to disagree on that one. I think characters should be shapeless, odd fitting, jagged even. You know, like people.

They should have problems and secrets. Just think of your own, and those around you. Like the time you smoked a joint in your moms mini-van, or when your friend did nothing buy flirt with your boyfriend, or the time your cousin almost overdosed on heroine, or when you masturbated in the school’s bathroom, or when you shoplifted those bra’s from the mall, or when… I can go one all night on this (really, I can and it’s frightening). In any case, I trust you get the idea. Now think, or try to imagine how each and every one of those experiences could have molded that person with the inevitable passage of time. Did being a junkie make them a better counselor? Having an overbearing Christian mother push her to join a satanic cult? Did sleeping around in high school make him a faithful husband or an incurable man-slut? Flaws, problems and how they are overcome: It is these characteristics that make our imaginary friends interesting. You know, like people.

How are your characters? Do you like them? Do they annoy you? Are they like you, or totally imagined, or somewhere in between?

The Writing Bug

2009-09-27T19:10:00.000-04:00

Thanks to a posting by Marsha’s Musings, I was forced to think about when I started to really be a writer. I’ve been a writer since I fist put pen (or crayon) to paper in pre-k, forging stories, retelling situations and imagining scenarios. Regrettably, It is not something I pursued as actively as I would have liked to.

That said, the writing bug has been with me for as long as I can remember.

However, it hovered in dark closets, relegating itself to obscure binders of loose pages containing a myriad of thoughts and random regurgitation of feelings throughout middle and high school. It went into remission for a few years, but it was around age 25 that the bug bit me. It infected me, and it has been deemed to have caused lifelong lasting effects. That was 8 years ago, and the infection continues to spread.

I hope it never stops.

What about you? When did it start, and besides published, what kind of writer do you aspire to be?

The Malefaction of Doubt

2009-09-24T15:44:00.000-04:00

For the record, I am not an Atheist. I am however an Agnostic, that leans heavily toward Atheism. I admit that there are things that we simply do not understand, and have no way of understanding, yet. I believe in all likelihood, all religions got it wrong, and it is in this sprit that we should continue to investigate and explore instead of feeling complacent with what we "know" as a species.

I think however, that the probability scale leans closer to a non-God universe (or multiverse as science now proclaims). But that doesn't mean we should stop looking for a creation force, let it be astronomical or quantum. Perhaps Stephen Hawkins is right in trying to hammer out the unified theory, but we will see. In my opinion, it all comes down to doubt. The fear that doubt strings along with it, pulling at our most primitive instincts, is comparable to that unexplained fear of the dark most people are born with. It’s not the dark in itself is frightening, it’s the not knowing what could be there. All belief systems, including Atheism, claim to have the answers. They KNOW that everybody is wrong and use either faith or empirical evidence as their ammunition, throwing around beliefs as an ultimate axiom. I’ll give science one thing though, they are quick to admit they were wrong when a new idea or theory can be proven. Though it is difficult to introduce a new idea in science, it is not impossible to so, as I’ve learned from religion. In my experience, any new idea or thought in religion results in the birth of a whole new theology, rather than a correction to the old one. Correct me if I am wrong. I’d love nothing more than to be mistaken here.

But that was not what I wanted to address with the previous post. The previous post was spawned from my irritation at the not-so-subtle inequality of our country. If Jesus can get a billboard, why can’t Darwin or Dawkins? – And I don’t like Dawkins. He’s just another attention deprived ass hole.

I can’t finish this post without mentioning Amber Tidd Murphy’s suggestions. Those were pretty funny.

To conclude, a rhetorical question: Why, WHY, is it such taboo for an Atheist to promote his/her views? How can we live in a country where not believing in a God is worse than cheating on your wife, committing fraud, molesting children, or even being accused of rape? Why do we allow people like this to be our elected officials, but an Atheist is a just unimaginable? Go HERE to see what I’m talking about.

The misfortune of disbelief: Atheism, the new gay?

2009-09-23T19:20:00.001-04:00

In an age of tolerance, of love thy brother, and do onto others and all that jazz, it is sad that these sentiments only apply to those of like mindedness, or of like faithesness rather. I do not understand how plastering entire highways with “Jesus Saves”, “Jesus Still Loves you”, “God is the way,” or my personal favorite, “You know you lie, but God knows only truth,” is not only acceptable, but evidently necessary for a community to consider itself safe. However, let one person stand up and say “I’m sorry, I don’t believe you,” and the rage that ensues is equivalent with what I’d expect to see if had slapped their children, made out with their spouse and ran over their dog, while proceeding to trim the cat’s whiskers.

I’m not about to go all Richard Dawkins on you or anything. That guy is a dick (pun totally intended). I understand and respect the traditions, and don’t think there is a damned thing wrong with “In God we Trust,” or “One nation under God.” That’s all fine and dandy, but to equate not believing in God with Satanism is, simply put, ignorant. Atheists don’t believe in Satan, re-tard. In fact, one can argue that atheists are amongst the most peaceful people around (scratch the above mentioned dick off that list). When was the last time you heard of an Atheist extremist blowing somebody up, or an Atheist crusade to recover the empirical land? Atheists tend to be well read people, informed, and open to discussion. There are always the bad sheep that go around insulting people for their beliefs, but they are a different kind of Atheist, commonly referred to as the Douche bag Atheists.

Speaking of asinine non-believers, I am constantly aggravated by the trendy faithless. When did Atheism become the new gay? When did denouncing beliefs loud and proud turn into a cache currency? Belief in what you hold dearest is sacred, let it be you pray to Jesus, Moses, Ala, Buddha, or Darwin (yes, all atheists pray to Dr. Charles, didn’t you know?). We hold candlelight vigils to little plastic fishies with legs before stamping them on the back of our cars.

But I digress.

But not really. Belief, no matter what it is, should be respected so far as no other person is being harmed for it. If there a people that need a God or a church system to get them to be compassionate toward their neighbor, and help the community, then so be it. More power to you. Some of us do all that, and still don’t need to believe in your theology.

So tell me, how would you react if you saw advertisements promoting Atheism in your neighborhood, your TV, your radio? And what about Agnostics? Oh, I can write a whole other tirade on the Agnostics, so perhaps I will, later.

Duty post

2009-09-23T00:59:00.001-04:00

I had all these great ideas for a post today, but I've run out of time. Maybe if I look under this rock here, I'll find some extra time. So, this post is to satisfy my duty as a blogger and for once (yeah, once) bitch. I long for those days when time seemed to stretch on for hours, the concept of "waiting for ice cream" or "go to the park," TOMORROW was dreadfully distant. Tomorrow was like, in forever, or something.
Now I'm relegated to stretching my day, and the things I can get accomplished by typing them up on my iPhone, while trying (hoping) to get some sleep.
Maybe I'll hide under this here imaginary rock for a while.

Hasta mañana, amigos.

Ps. Not that long ago, I caught my six year old staring at me through the rear view mirror of my car, while we drove on the highway. I felt his eyes, big giant chestnuts, scanning me until I finally asked, "what's up?". He proceeded to ask me a question which damn near made crash into the car next to me as I whipped my head around in astonishment and utter disbelief.
He said: "Papa, are all old people bald?"

awesome, eh? I just shaved my head a few months ago and now I'm in the old people category.
That's what I deal with.

Caged Tigers

2009-09-19T12:21:00.000-04:00

I got nothing though I felt obligated to write something. My prickling fingertips told me so, as did the voices that rummage in my head from time to time (a lot of times). But we won’t get into that subject, my mother always said to never speak of them. EVER!

Today is supposed to be the beer festival in Atlanta. I was looking forward to taking my kids to their mother’s house for the weekend, and proceeding to allow the shitfacedness to ensue. Alas, it is not to be. You see, the festival is in the open streets of East Atlanta, but today the sky weeps. There is even a chance of a thunderstorm or two sweeping by. Bad enough to have drunks on the street, but to have drunks on the wet, rainy road, ehh… no gracias. You have no idea how retarded people get when it rains in this city. You'd think they got gassed or something.

Its' not that I hate the rain, hell, without it most people don’t know how strike up conversation. It’s just that it’s been raining for two weeks already. We are starting to feel and sound a lot like caged tigers: A lot of pacing, roaring, and clawing at one another. Its getting ugly. Wish me luck, but above all, wish me beer.

Gooaaaaalllll....... Changed.

2009-09-17T23:13:00.001-04:00

Thanks to Marsha's Musing's, I have set myself a new goal: To have this novel done by October 30th. That’s right folks you heard it here first! Not that I have CNN and Fox news shoving Oprah out of the way to learn this information, but it’s there anyway.
I am 65,000 words in. I feel pretty good that I can get it done. The story is laid out, I’m just tweaking at this point. So, after I close this laptop tonight, I will get my I.V. drip ready and shove into the trunk of my car. Tomorrow morning as I take some time to write, I will walk into my usual Starbucks and boldly declare: “Plug me in Christie.” And she – having always wanting to inflict some kind of pain on me – will eagerly jab that hypodermic needle in my arm and proceed to pour down espresso shots into my fluids bag, letting it nourish me intravenously. That’s not just a mere high-five moment (it may tear the needle out of my arm causing some pain and excruciating sorrow at the loss of espresso), but rather an absolute “Hell Yeah!” moment. Fierce, creative keyboard pounding ensues.
Can you smell that awesome? I can.

What about you? Have you given your project an end date?

**All names and places mentioned are totally not a work of fiction, and only by coincidence, would somebody think they are.

Oh Look, Another Amateur.

2009-09-15T23:06:00.000-04:00

After this fantastic post by Fiction Groupie, that is precisely how I felt. These were items that I knew, I understood, I was even aware to avoid, yet did not. Oh, the shame! Read Fiction Groupie’s list, follow the blog, and revise your work. You will be glad, I know I am.

Go, do it!

Indecisions, in decisions

2009-09-14T17:42:00.000-04:00

I have reached an impasse in my novel. I have what I believe to be a good story, yet last night a new thought occurred to me. Granted, it came from the period when one is asleep, yet somewhat aware of the immediate surroundings. The noises of owls cooing outside, crickets stringing their legs together, and thoughts… Thoughts dancing wildly in the brain.
Should I plow forward with what I have? Or, stop, drop and roll… To the beginning and make the modifications to the story that invaded my thoughts at dawn? I could hold off the idea for the next novel… Oh, what WWJMD? (What Will JM Do) ;)

What is Facebook Etiquette?

2009-09-13T14:31:00.003-04:00

Pondering upon the new way of making contacts and friends online, meeting people whom otherwise I probably would never have come in contact with, I’m curious about how to properly establish the digital relationship. This is not to be confused with my digital-porn relationship, that’s a whole different subject.

Friend request sent, friend request accepted, and now I have a new little face in my “friends” box and a new tick under the number of friends. Which is weird in itself. I don’t recall spending my childhood days keeping account in my brown leather journal of how many friends I had. It’s not like when Javier took my wallet and dunk it in the boys room toilet, I went into my little notebook and crossed him off my “number of friends” list, scratching out 28 to 27. That asshole.

Nevertheless, here we are. And now that I have accepted the friend request, do I go and start commenting on my new friend’s pictures and posts like we are long lost buddies? Notice, I don’t ask if it was acceptable to go through the pictures, because, let’s face it, that’s happening regardless. Those pictures, the personal info wall, and the “likes” are absorbed with such scrutiny it would make the cavity search guy at the airport jealous.

Or better yet, should I initiate with a humble “I Like” on their current status, to warm each other up to our presence in one anothers life? On the hand, one could just dive right in the middle of the action, not unlike Steven Seagal, jumping in the middle of bilingual super-stealth ninjas turned yakuza-mafiosos (with outstanding Armani suits and swords): Kicking ass, not caring about names, and never, ever, losing his cool as much as to flake off his hair gel. Hmmm, I often think about this. I don’t have to worry about gel anymore, but would love to know how you approach your new, never-shook-hands-with, friends.

Giddy up on that healthcare bandwagon!

2009-09-09T03:08:00.002-04:00

I, as I suspect most Americans out there, have been hearing about the ongoing healthcare debate taking place currently on Capitol Hill. I’ve made no secret that I am not a fan of the current administration. I’m not a fan of the previous one either, so let’s not get any ideas. Regardless, I do have my opinions which (not shocking) do not jive with either of the propositions. And since nobody asked me them, I’m about to give them to you.

I’ve been listening to my peers argue about not wanting socialized healthcare, that we don’t want our hospitals run like the DMV, or that death squads (and I really laughed out loud, snorting and all, at this one) will be deciding who lives and who doesn’t.

One the other side, I heard about how the social healthcare works in other “advanced” countries, why not here? Let me stick to that point for a moment. Japan has a national healthcare system, one that covers approximately one-hundred and twenty seven million Japanese citizens. An article from NPR discusses just how cheap the health care is. “Perhaps too cheap” reports the article, stating that Doctor’s incomes are extremely low. I already see a problem with this. A problem that we, here in the states, are starting to suffer from. All the smart people are no longer becoming Doctors. And I don’t know about you, but I want my physicians to be as smart as, well, a doctor!

Never mind that for now. Another issue in Japan is that, while the national healthcare program started as a cover all – for everything, it is no longer the case. Over the last years, the co-payments and deductibles have increased, first by 10%, then to 20% and are currently at 30% patient responsibility. This means that in order to have full coverage in Japan, you have to carry two insurances, a GAP insurance if you will. So, they are partially back on private insurance, while their government tries to reel back in the ballooning costs of their healthcare program. And that with 127mil people! We have more than double the amount of bodies here. And don’t get me started on the weight and general health differences.
I don’t disagree with some government interference here though. Some. The pre-existing condition thing has got to go. That is retarded. And if you are offended because you think that the word retarded is insensitive because of those people that are in fact born with brain damage, well, I got news for you. The pre-existing condition thing is retarded.

However, we are a capitalist nation still, last time I checked. Forbid the insurance companies from setting negotiated rates with doctors. Let the doctor or hospital set his pricing according to what they see fit. The market will determine the value of the service, and people will go to whichever provider has mentioned best value. Abolish the referral system, so we can see whatever doctor we feel comfortable with. Let American’s get the insurance plan we want, at an affordable price. Not those ridiculous self-pay rates. Make it mandatory for citizens and residents to have healthcare. It seems to work just fine with auto insurance. Competitive rates, no in-network car mechanic nonsense. Grant us discounts for being healthy, and engaging in healthy activities. Slap us on the wrist for smoking (I’m getting slapped), and for letting our cholesterol shoot through the roof. Prevent as much as we can. Money is a great motivator, and as such we should leverage it properly.

Oh, and we should really reform the DMV. Everyone seems to already know it sucks.
Did I miss anything? Or am I totally wrong here? Let me know.

Books 4 Beer!

2009-09-07T20:20:00.001-04:00

This weekend was the Decatur Book Festival in Decatur, GA. A fabulous gathering of booksellers, authors, and readers to which I could not help but smile at. Not to say that the event was without the token redneck, or gratuitous drunk, but it was still fun nonetheless. Literary event or not, this is still Georgia we are talking about.
Regrets: I missed Lee Child's appearance.
That's it, nothing else. Oh, except maybe that its only a weekend, and and not a whole week long festival. Then again, that would probably displace the beer festival coming up in a few weeks.
But I digress. The DBF is one of those events, that to the avid reader and writer, provide an unparalleled opportunity to meet with independent booksellers, authors, and acquire large quantities of reading material for damn near nothing. Seriously, where else can you walk away with eight (8) books in exchange for one (1) beer. Huh? Beat that Amazon!
It happens once a year, but if anybody would be interested, I can keep you posted for next year's end of summer event. Are there any other book fairs or writers conferences worth attending out there later this year? I'd love to know.

Selfless? Bullshit!

2009-09-04T13:05:00.001-04:00

I am exhausted from hearing praise for those “selfless” acts. There is no such thing. Selflessness is one of those things that people think they exist, but don’t. Not unlike the pretense of “buy 1- get 1 free”. No free lunch either (sorry). You are paying for it one way or the other.
But I digress, but not really. Even when people do something for the sake of doing it, and have no material, or otherwise apparent gain, it is still not selfless. Those words are usually accompanied by: “It feels right, or I feel good helping, or could stand and do nothing.” Well, that’s grand and all, but you are doing it for selfish reasons still. To make YOU feel good. If one helps without feeling anything, in a true selfless way, it would be closer to apathy, and that would just be sad.
So go ahead, stroke your ego a bit, butter up that hero complex a little, and if somebody gets helped in the process, then you just made two people feel good. In the end, isn’t that really what it’s all about. Let’s not mislabel things. Call them for what they are, and I am confident you will find yourself feeling even better about your selfless *ehm* actions.
I’d love to know your thoughts. Can you give me an example of a non-self rewarding action that is not apathetic?

A Kindle? For me? You shouldn't have... Really. Don't

2009-09-01T23:42:00.000-04:00

I love tech, I make a living with it after all, but some things I feel are best left alone. I understand the book publishing industry is changing, but the new e-readers seem less like evolution, and more like evolutionary mutation. I enjoy the leafing through pages sensation, the smell of the pages, the binding, the glue...never mind the type! Maybe I'm a thirty-three year old, old soul.
So, I take no shame when I declare that my approach to the kindle is: "Just say no!"
Maybe time will force my hand, but until then, I refuse.
As far as lending books, I also quit. It easier than quitting smoking, and made me feel good to do so, not antsy like my departing nicotine chum.
A few weeks after parting with my paper bound treasures, I could hear my fathers words echoing in my mind: "I'm not sure who's dumber. The person that lends a book, or the one who returns it." Turns out, I was the dumber-er.
I'd like to hear the other side of the argument though? What is the advantage of an e-reader? Especially if you enjoy book sharing.

Team America, for realss...

2009-08-30T17:36:00.000-04:00

On Friday August 28, a ship was seized by UAE. Originating from North Korea, it sailed under Bahamian flag, in an Australian owned vessel supposedly carrying oil equipment. But it was not. Instead, it carried North-Korean munitions, detonators, and other weapons. Its destination: Iran.

That’s right. North Korea and Iran trading weapons. I’m pretty confident we had been warned about this in the past, yet we did not listen. Instead, more UN talks and perhaps a UN resolution and two were thrown out there.

Meanwhile, CNN and their arch-nemesis Fox News will continue to broadcast the healthcare reform controversy or Obama’s fluctuating popularity. However, I believe that two of the [Cartoon-bandit-like-named] members of the Axis of Evil (eveel?), trading weapons should be a bit more news worthy.

What do we do now? Now we wait and see what the new administration is going to do (if anything) about this new situation. Are we going to launch into new talks with Iran about its nuclear program? Perhaps send a new envoy to North Korea to review their supposed powered off reactor? I wish I knew. This new (and improved?) axis of evil will have to be watched. Not because of their nefarious nature, but because they may prove to provide some real entertainment. Think “Team America” goes live-action.

But hey, I’m just a news digester.

Trillion?

2009-08-25T15:15:00.000-04:00

It's official, our deficit is not just scary. It's mind boggling. Granted that we are "only" at 1.9 trillion, but they are projecting 9 trillion. NINE! We owe more dollars than there are stars in the known UNIVERSE! And we know of about 100 billion galaxies. Yeah, do the math. if every person on earth "donated" abo...ut $120, it still wouldn't be enough to cover our deficit. that's 7 billion people. I'm giving myself a headache.

New Hallucinogenic

2009-08-24T01:02:00.002-04:00

After hours of reading, and writing, pondering, and enjoying perhaps a bit too much espresso (is there such a thing), I have come to a conclusion. It takes me back to the days when I was a young father, my baby boys was mere weeks, experiencing the world via his new eyes and new years and surprisingly powerful lungs. Those days when "sleeping like a baby" sounded like a cruel joke.
"You mean, waking up every two hours to eat, pee and burp?"
Yeeah. It was during those days that I first experienced that mind expanding, life altering, hallucinogenic power of three-hour sleep. Now, now... I know what you are thinking: "Surely, Acid, ecstasy, or even meth will alter your perception of reality more than this, this claim of yours."
Let me assure you (without self-incrimination) that they do not. Only under the influence of three-hour sleep does taking a nap in your car, in August, in Atlanta, in a 100 degree sun beaten parking lot, sound remotely like a good idea.
As I sit here typing this, contemplating my status reports for tomorrow, what I'll make for dinner for my kids after school, and the revisions I need to make on my book, I can tell you with a certain level of certainty: It's all worth it. Even if I do get a small heat rash from sleeping in the car from time to time.

Synopsis

2009-08-06T20:46:00.001-04:00

I'd like to get some opinions on this:

When Jacob Santos receives a message on his phone, he understands all too well the macabre meaning behind the four words: “Got another for you”. A Killer is on the loose in Atlanta, targeting not just single mothers, but their innocent children as well. Without much evidence, or even the law by his side, Jacob sets out to stop this monster. It is a race against time and the Atlanta Police. Jacob knows the blood of the next victims will be on his hands, unless he finds the killer. Unknown to them both, they share a common apparition in their journey, a ghost of their past, guiding their paths closer to one another. An encounter that could shatter everything Jacob Santos ever believed in. Detective Nate Barker, from Fulton County Criminal investigations, is assigned to the case of his career. With nothing but his analytical mind and rookie partner, he must solve the worst serial killing case in Atlanta’s history, while attempting to keep the reins on his disintegrating marriage and estranged daughter. Time is running out. Six weeks, and four murders have taken place, and they are only increasing in frequency. Detective Barker too, must find this killer, before another family is lost, and his faith is annihilated.

Tragedy

2009-07-26T18:56:00.000-04:00

Tragedy is some of the best fodder for fiction. The truthfulness of that, is in itself, tragic.

Let us not forget that Life does not imitate fiction. Au contraire, fiction makes a damn good effort of imitating life. Yet, seems to always fall short. As inventive as our minds can get, perhaps it is a literary loss that we are not able to anticipate the actual psychosis of the human mind. And when we do, it comes across as campy, or unrealistic. Until, that is, we see the images birthed from the darkest corners of our imaginations broadcasted on CNN; perpetuated some other disturbed soul.

Tragic.

Progress

2009-07-06T18:46:00.000-04:00

I've been hard at work editing my little project. It is truly fascinating how the story has grown from just an idea birthed from an all nighter of true-crime TV, conversations over beer (or wine), and an indomitable desire to write. I have not updated any of the changes made, but I will soon.

It is time for me to get to work on a query letter that demonstrates just how much I love story telling. Not in a congenial BS kind of way. Those of you who have read Preston\Child, Koontz\Rollins, and such will appreciate it. And if you don't, then its time to get back to the drawing board. This is hardly a mere experiment for me. Not long ago I decided to forgo those books on Network analysis and powershell script to dive into my story. My Story. It truly is magnificent to see my creation come alive in the pages before me (as digital as they may be).

Little Hands

2009-01-22T11:36:00.002-05:00

Took a drive alone last night

Memories in my head

Thinking back to early days

Thinking back again.

Your little hands reached up

Aiming for my face

Your little hands reached up

Trapped my heart with grace

Little boy you're sleeping

With your head up on my chest

Disarmed me in a single breath

Son, I'll be your nest

Little eyes are open,

But they sink back once again

Sleep for hours at a time

Peace within you sings

Woke up again last night

Heard you in your bed

You laughed and played so hard

There was no crying left to mend

Tonight I'll see you once again

In this summer night

The spring is in your life

As autumn befalls on mine

Flying, Aarghh...

2009-01-22T11:36:00.001-05:00

Four, almost five hours on a flight is bad enough. But no drink service?

I mean, really? I have ten thousand free drink coupons but not a stewardess, I mean, flight attendant, to fetch me a drink. What's even worse is for a chatty person like me, to go this long without talking is torture. I cannot begin to imagine what a flight to japan must be like. When my girlfriend told me that she dreaded flying, THIS is what she meant, raised to the level of 20 some odd hours stuck in a cylindrical tuna can with tuna (and invariably other) smelly people. .

All have to say is, for god, Zeus, ra, Orem, or whoveres sake, bring back the concord. Damn you french for taking it away. And damn you world elite for making it so unaffordable. Oh, and nevermind the fact that were supposed have flying cars and transporter tubes. Damn you jetsons, for lying to me in my childhood, making me think I was gonna have a super cool adulthood!

I love travelling, I hate flying! There... Bitching concluded.

And to top it all off, I have to deal with the clapping dorks when we land... Sheesh! I'm done (I hope)

American Arrogance or Political Stupidity?

2009-01-22T11:35:00.001-05:00

This is an article that all Americans should read. Though it is a bit a long, it shows the way the world looks upon the US: The arrogant that has fallen, and can't get up.

http://www.spiegel.de/international/world/0,1518,581502-2,00.html

Granted, it is a point of view by writer who is clearly socialist, but that does not take away the fact that we (yes WE) have given him the fodder for this.

Let's not be coy. The economic fiasco that we find ourselves in is not Bush's fault. I don't like President Bush anymore than you do, but to believe that his administration caused this, is quite frankly, ignorant. Neither is this banking blunder a failure of capitalism, nor should we jump on the European socialist bandwagon at once. This situation has aroused from a something I like to call fiscal socialism: When the government started intervening with the private sector, ignoring the rules of deregulation and telling banks how to run their business. Look no further than the Community Reinvestment act of 1995. It was a way for Washington to force banks into approving mortgage loans for people that otherwise would not have been approved.

In other words, to help "the less fortunate" get a house. The problem with that ideology was that the people that really caused the problem were not the folks that were truly in need. It was another example of the government rewarding (again) laziness and irresponsibility. The unreasonably greedy that got in way over their heads into loans that they knew, they knew, they could not afford. And there you have it: The birth of the infamous real estate bubble. Though admittedly this is much simplified, you get the gist of it. - Feel free to look it up in any search engine. - Do not misunderstand me, I do not think, not for a second, that being greedy is always bad. However, greed without a code of ethics, a set of core business values, is damn near criminal. There is no shame in wanting to benefit from fair trade and the effort of your labor. As long as there is fairness (equivalency) in the trade and it is YOUR labor, not the abuse of another's labor or ideas. It is after all the American way. Wasn't there a dream that we kept hearing about? Where did that go? We are supposed to be the greatest Capitalist nation in the world. We have never been a country of lazy aristocrats, and abhorred the ideals of Communism, but we have become a society that no longer praises hard work and success. We dwell on what [more] we should have, instead of on how we can achieve it. As I write this, I realize that perhaps thanks to the stupidity we have collectively reached, we deserve to be punished. We deserve socialism.

We deserve to be written about and talked about the way that the above mentioned Deutsche reporter has. For today. But I don't intend to keep it that way. I intend to do what little I can do. I intend to continue to do the best job I know how. I intend to continue to invest my money in this country. I intend to pay attention to what happens around me, and I intend to vote according to what I know is best for my country. And I intend to this not help out a Republican nincompoop or an amateur Democrat, but for me, my family and my kids. I want my kids to grow up in a world where they can travel abroad, without fear of foreign umbrage and proudly say: "Yeah, I'm American. How're you doing?"

JM Diaz