Let’s rock.

Of course, if you weren’t following either Flickr or Twitter, you probably thought I croaked or something because once again Twitter Tools didn’t post my Twitter digests as blog posts. I hate seeing long gaps in posts, and that was supposed to fill the void. Unfortunately it hasn’t worked since they upgraded their stuff, and I can’t upgrade my WordPress because my hosting company is holding me hostage (trying to get me to buy an expensive package), so I’m probably going to dump them and try another host.

Which means another downtime period in the coming weeks while things switch over. Ah well, it’ll be worth it.

If you ever have an opportunity to visit Hawaii, go. We had a great time on the Big Island and we’ve already decided it’s somewhere we’ll want to visit again. Wonderful weather, plenty to see and do, and generally just a great place. The Wife and I both joked about moving to Kona, and after a minute or two, we weren’t sure we were really joking.

I wonder if the schools out there need a good tech director…

They’re conscious and awake, but they have zero sense of urgency.

“I have to be at school in five minutes? That’s cool. I have plenty of time to put my shoes on, brush my teeth, find my lunchbox, find my jacket, and chase the cat around. And oh, check out this sweet level on Lego Star Wars! I’m fighting the Emperor! Did you know it’s raining out? Whoa, lightning! Hey, where’d you put my shoes, Mom? Hey, Power Rangers is on! Why’d you turn the TV off? I was watching that! My shoes are on… oh, wait. Hey, that’s my jacket! Dad, you can’t leave yet, I can’t find my lunch!”

Every. Single. Morning.

Hell, I even seem to remember basing Dungons & Dragons scenarios around some of his paintings. (Yeah. I was one of those geeks back in the day.)

I’ve been told you know you’re getting old when all of your heroes start to die. Given those who have died the last few years, I guess I’m starting to push it.

Some guys on Twitter have been saying Frazetta’s now painting some kick-ass fantasy paintings for God. I’m not a religious guy, but you know, I like the sound of that.

I can’t believe it’s May already.

I can’t believe it’s already Wednesday this week. I blink and another day is gone.

I have another book to write, two more short stories to write, and I’m developing one webcomic and planning another. I’m practicing to make Ikkyu (first degree brown belt) in karate and am trying to pump up my home workouts in general. And oh yeah, there’s that family I like to hang out with.

I feel like a shark: I can’t stop moving. If I stop, nothing gets done and everything’s behind me.

The song of the day:

And hey, go recycle something, too, eh?

Unfortunately I’ve never met him, but I have exchanged a few letters with him while submitting stories. He was one of few editors I received personalized rejections (and advice) from when I was first getting started ten or so years ago, and while I never cracked the pages of Weird Tales, I always appreciated his notes and at one point was thrilled when he referred to a previous submission in one rejection.

I sent him a few chapter samples and a synopsis of a novel once, too. I don’t recall now whether he was looking to publish or agent work, but he gave me some great advice on it, too. That novel will likely remain a trunk novel, but the interaction was one of the things that encouraged me to keep on trying and to keep improving my game. That kind of feedback is rare in an editor, especially for young rookie writers.

Thanks, George. I’ll never forget that.

Most school breaks, I try to spend them as though I’m a full-time writer: I’ll put in plenty of keyboard time, then spend a few hours taking care of housework or whatever else I’ve been putting off. Usually it works out well, and I get some solid progress done on a project.

This time around has been a bit different. Part of it is I allowed a few other things to derail my time. For starters, the rugrats are a little older and a little more active. Also, when I go full time I also would like to hit karate more often, but I didn’t take into account the travel time and the other stops and errands I add to those extra trips. Finally I decided to finish prepping both the motorcycle and the grill for the season.

Long story short: if I’m going to write full time, my time management is going to have to get much better. It’s already lacking during the regular work weeks, but this is just irritating. Fortunately I can still regroup with the remaining days.

That’s not to say I haven’t gotten any work done (that whooshing sound you just heard was my editor at Evileye breathing a huge sigh of relief). I squeezed in some work here and there, even while on errands or grabbing a quick bite (I love my Moleskine), and I solved a few plot and character issues. I also have the luxury of staying up later and being able to work at night while it’s quiet in the house.

Sitting down on the front porch, tapping out this post on my iPod touch with a cigar in hand, I’ve come to a few of conclusions about my writing.

1) I really do love doing this. I’m as excited about new ideas, characters, and stories as I ever was. Creating is just plain fun, and though the business side can be aggravating sometimes, it’s not as aggravating as the network switch at work that decided to fail in the middle of Spring Break and leave the district bookkeeper and a few teachers playing catch-up unable to get their work done (and thus ruining my Wednesday afternoon).

2) I’ve reaffirmed I’m a night owl. I spent a couple of nights up past one or two in the morning and slept ’til eight or nine, and I got more work done and have felt more energized and positive. Doing those late nights and getting up at 6:30am for the day job just doesn’t cut it after a few days, and it does little to help my day job or the writing gig. I really, really need to find a way to take this full time.

3) I’m not as slow a writer as I think I am. The ideas for the second Pack novella have been percolating in my head for some time now, but it wasn’t until recently that everything started to gel. I may not be happy with my keyboard time, but what happens is eventually something goes click, and all the little pieces fall into line and form the big picture. Better still, in the case of this series, they even link right in to the overall continuity, fueling the future and bringing clarity to the past. When I do chain myself to the keyboard, it’s that much easier to pound away and turn in a solid first draft.

That’s an important key. Part of the problem with my trunk novels is I just charged ahead without a clear picture of where things were headed. I may have had solid ideas, but the execution just wasn’t there. The little details that are so important to the stories fell flat.

Maybe it’s time I stop calling these delays procrastination and understand that maybe this is just my process. Everyone has a method that works for them, be it a specific way or place they have to write or a given method for getting the words onto a page, so maybe it’s just taken me this long to grasp my method. Some of my best work has been done by sitting on things and then making a mad rush before a deadline, and to be honest, I didn’t feel all that rushed at the time I punched the keys.

Sure, I needed to hurry to make deadline, but the words were already there. It’s easier when the key-punching feels more like transcribing notes than creation, and the work is probably better for that.

Does that make sense or did some wiseass spike this cigar at the factory? I’ve never fully bought into things like writers block and waiting on one’s muse. Maybe they’re just an easy way for writers to say they just haven’t sorted their shit out yet. I can’t say I haven’t thrown those terms around, but they always felt like the literary devices they are. They’re our job bleeding into our lives.

Heavy stuff. Now if you’ll excuse me, this cigar’s almost done. I have more percolating to do.

“I’m sending a paper that Tim did this A.M. It will be stapled to his Agenda page. Would you please take a look at it and let me know what you think?”

Being both a parent, a student at some point in time, and now a staff member for a school district, I know that notes like this are a Bad Thing. I assumed it had something to do with zombies, blood and death, but one never knows with the son of a horror writer.

Naturally, I couldn’t wait to read it.

Turns out, I wasn’t terribly far off. This is his paper on “What I’m going to do for Spring Break” complete with the teacher note:

What can I say? It's in the genes.

I couldn’t help but laugh. This is the kind of thing I did to my teachers. Couldn’t figure out an Algebra equation? Draw a little head with the top of his head blowing off, complete with mushroom cloud.

No zombies. He did, however, choose to get through the assignment as fast as possible so he could turn over the paper and draw a rocket ship with a gun and a guy running away from what’s supposed to be an alien:

Of course there has to be death, or at least the promise thereof.

The only thing that pisses me off about this one is he appears to like drawing aliens and rocket ships, but can’t be bothered to read the copy of How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way I bought him. Grr.

What’s that you ask? Why is a wop celebrating an Irish holiday? Because my mom’s family is Irish. Best of both worlds.

And yes, I prefer Smithwick’s over Guinness. Deal.