This one time at Writer's Camp…
And Now, The News
I realized that I can’t post a review of The Doctor and the Dinosaurs (Mike Resnick) yet due to the simple fact that it won’t be published until December. So, uh, yeah… whoops?
On the plus side, that means I can go ahead and rush my next review, which is Discount Armageddon (Seanan McGuire). It was a fun, light little read in the urban fantasy genre (I’m reading more of this genre now, which is confusing). I’m supposed to be writing more on Rockfall, but I need to read as well (keeps my mind stimulated). I’ve found that if I don’t read once in awhile, my brain sort of atrophies, and then crap like “swag” and “YOLO” start to make sense. When this happens, I’m legally required to do one of two things:
1 — Read. Read a lot. Read books. Lots of books. Intelligent books. Funny books.
2 — Go on a murder spree. This is bad. Very bad. Besides the loss of life (though I’d try to pick the worst human beings imaginable… primarily, Twi-hards), I’m too pretty for prison.
…I seriously think that my moral compass is primarily guided by my fear of being the pretty boy in prison…
My guest blog over at Barb Caffrey’s site should be going up this week. It was supposed to go up last week but, well, I had that book come out and then I was all like “Yeah, let me link to it…” and then I forgot to link to it until it was too late. Thankfully, Barb’s cool like that and rescheduled me for this week. In the blog I’m talking about characters and jumping genres in your writing, something I’ve been told I’m pretty good at (plot? not so much).
When I was out on my walk Saturday, I stumbled upon the biggest coyote I’ve ever seen. It was one of those “fight or flight” responses when I looked into its eyes. Fortunately, he decided I was wayyy scarier than he was and he bolted. This is all well and good, except that the coyotes aren’t supposed to come down off of the knob (there’s some cattle on the property, and there are some newborn calves running around) and there’s a “shoot on sight” rule with them. Since I’d left the rifle back at the house (I was out taking pictures of the red-tail hawk that patrols the area), I was vastly unprepared.
I was also very lucky. I wasn’t prepared for an animal attack (which has happened out here… rabid animals do turn up, especially possums and raccoon) and I wasn’t wearing hiking boots (I had on a pair of old tennis shoes). I should have known better. Next time I go up the hill, I’m taking boots (not necessarily the rifle, though — that thing is heavy and doesn’t have a shoulder strap).
I should think about getting something small, like a compact 9mm or a .380 for my hikes. I doubt I’d need it, but if I ever run across a rabid coyote and find myself unarmed, I’m going to wish I had it.
Okay, now to destroy a planet (the “write” way).
BTW… have you picked up your copy of Mental Ward: Echoes of the Past yet? You really should. It’s only $3.99 for the Kindle version. You might like my story, Wake.