"This is getting better by the minute" - Predator

So now I read that Borders is going mammaries skyward.  I was originally going to title this entry 'Now what?', a quote from the movie Deep Rising, which is one of my wife and my favorite movies.  It's said nearly a dozen times in the film, just as things are about to get worse.
I can rationalize it to say that in the end, this is good for the industry.  If Border's couldn't make it out here in the real world, then it needs to evolve, or go extinct.  Natural laws have no pity. (You can look that one up)
But of course, those same laws apply to me, and I have no desire to go extinct.  Forgive me for sounding cannibalistic, but this means that the distribution portion of the market for the stuff I and all my fellow writers produce is now that much smaller, so now there are a lot more of us on a very small island looking at the same, solitary can of beans, and each other.  That's the trick about writer's groups and making friends at conventions:  Unless you don't write fiction, the people you're smiling at and talking to are your competition.  Back when I trained more actively, my sensei and I were having a discussion about all the end-of-the-world scenarios that were being tossed around, and the subject of food came up.  He said, "I'm never gonna starve.  There are too many steaks walking around on two legs."
That said, I'm going to get back to my writing.

By the way, how fast can you walk, or run?

It's ----ing hot.

Been back from A-kon for a few days, and have been fighting 'Con crud' pretty much since the moment I got in the door.  Sneezing and coughing all day long would be bad enough, but down here in Houston we're in the middle of the worst drought in a century.  I would say that it's hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk, but the truth is that if you took an egg outside, it would hard-boil in the shell before you could crack it open.  So in the middle of this, what happens?  A water pipe in my yard breaks because the soil, clay-based, has contracted too much for the pipe.  Trees and grass are dying all over town, and the street in front of my house is under an inch of water.
First draft of the 'The Necromancer of Kitty-kitty' is done, and I'm going back to finishing Roja and doing a re-write on Dirty.  While I was up in Dallas, I told Necromancer to a couple of the girls working Claudia's booth, and there were gasps and giggles, so hopefully it's a good one.
At dinner tonight I came up with one of the little tidbits that so often give my wife reason to wonder why she actually married me.  I imagined someone going out to eat at a Chinese restaurant, and as they walk out the door, presumably in view of other patrons, casually pulling out a half-dozen dog collars of various types and waving to the staff as they say, "Okay, see you guys next week."

By the way, if I never write another word as long as I live, it's all my daughter Madyson's fault.  She happened to mention this game that she plays on the computer, spider solitaire.  Having never even heard of it, I looked under my games file, and foolishly opened it up, just to see how it was played.  Now I'm hooked.

Late thoughts

The day before leaving for World Horror Con, I managed to do something to my ankle, a something that REALLY slowed me down.  I could put weight on it, and shift from side to side, but the tendon screamed at me whenever I tried to press down with the foot.  Just getting out of bed that morning was agony, and I had a bunch of chores that I needed to do before the trip.  Fortunately my wife has a small collection of canes that she uses for costumes, and I grabbed one with a nice skull-head on it as I hobbled out the door.
The first thing that I discovered was that with one foot out of commision, you can't walk.  Period.  What you knew as walking suddenly becomes something that you sit on the sidelines and watch other people do as they shoot past you.  I learned to keep the cane on my good side and lean on it when I lifted that foot off the ground, so I could do something besides lift my bad foot up and set it back down again.  That was how I got to the car and drove to the store.
Second lesson, you now have one arm to use, because the other is permanently holding the blasted cane.  Even if you're standing still, you have to hold it in your hand.  If you set it leaning against something, anything, it will fall.  I learned that lesson more than once.  This made getting around in the store while holding a small basket for the few items I wanted a damned joke.
Finally I had everything except some sugar-free candy.  I wanted to be able to use my Stranger shirt on everyone, and if someone didn't, or couldn't, eat sugar, I wanted to be ready with an alternative.  I looked in snacks, crackers, everywhere I could think of, before asking for help.
This was the middle of the afternoon, and there weren't a lot of store employees around, so I went up to the front.  As I slowly hobbled up there, the lady at the service desk noticed me and we made eye contact.  It was obvious where I was headed, and you know what she did?  She turned her head and looked down at her feet.  A few minutes later when I got up there, she was very polite, and told me that the diet candy was on an aisle where they displayed all the rest of the diet food.  As she came around to show me where it was, she  said, "This way" and took off like a shot.  I watched her leave me behind without even looking back.
I did follow her, and she was waiting up the aisle.  I picked a cherry-pomegranate flavored hard candy, popped it in my basket, and made the long trip up to pay and leave.
No harm, no foul, right?  Except that look she gave me sticks in my head.  It sounds silly to say it, but I made her uncomfortable by being unable to walk.  I used to work in retail, and I've had a few handicapped customers.  You be polite, professional, and you keep your game face on.  You sure as hell don't pretend that a woman in a wheelchair can get through a narrow space, or that a dwarf can reach the top shelf.  If you're not sure, ask.
I got through the con just fine, except for dropping my cane a few thousand times.  I even encountered a woman in the lobby, also using a cane, and both of us headed to the dealer's room.  So naturally, I asked her if she wanted to race.  I can walk just fine now, and wondering where I can fit the experience in something I write.
On another note, this latest delay in finishing Roja is all my wife's fault.  She and I were talking at dinner the other day, and the subject of silly phrases came up.  She popped out, 'The Necromancer of Kitty-kitty,' and wondered if that would be a good title for something. (she writes too) I am now three pages into the first draft of it.  Damn you, my love.

On seeing 'Priest.'

Okay, I'll admit I was nervous about seeing it.  The trailers promised so much, and they seemed to be pushing into every single level of epicness that exists.  It's about vampires, and they're scary.  Hell, the vampires aren't even human, and they never were.  The cities are nightmares of steel and propaganda, and everything else is wasteland.  The church is the only authority that exists.  Everything I saw in the trailers inspired that most dangerous emotion, hope.
They pulled it off.  As I'm writing this, it's been three days since I saw it, and I've had time to let that initial rush settle.  All the cool fight scenes and witty one-liners have found their places on the endless shelves within my head.  I've been to work, and I've thought about a million other things.  When I think of 'Priest,' my first feeling is the desire to see it again.
After my wife and I had bought our tickets online and were looking around on the web, we found some of the graphic novels that the film is based on. (on Amazon) From the descriptions, it seems that the writers might have altered the storyline a bit, which only makes me want to start reading the novels.  I can't remember which, but there is one with a short bit where it looks like one of the villians/creatures comes calling on the artist himself, and, among other things, asks him if he believes in God.
All in all, worth the time.  Without a doubt.

Back from my first World Horror Con

And what a Con it was.  I got to meet a lot of great people, have a ton of fun, and attend Brian Keene's seminar for writers.  I went in my 'Stranger' tee shirt, and provoked some giggles when I went around offering candy. (Smarties, the best) What surprised me is how many people didn't glance twice at the shirt when I did it, they just thought I was giving out sweets.  Of course, the looks on their faces when I pointed it out to them were priceless.  Especially Jack Ketchum.
Brian Keene's seminar, and the panels he was on, opened my eyes quite a bit.  He really got into the business aspect of the profession, and on a panel entitled 'How much do we make,' he was the only one with the balls to actually come out and state a dollar amount.  I think he was trying to get the other panelists to do the same, but they quietly shifted the conversation elsewhere.
There was a mass signing event, and I was able to thank David Nickle for writing Monstrous Affections, and afterward I sat in at a reading by some of the folks from Shroud Magazine.
All in all, more than worth it.  The swag bag alone had a ton of books and other cool stuff.  I'm already making plans to attend next year's Horror Con.

So my wife and I were in a local gun store the other day, looking for a small pistol for her, and the guy behind the counter not only notices her tatoo, but recognizes it as Cthulhu.  This leads to a brief discussion on Lovecraft and gaming, and it turned out that he knew a friend of ours.  Now if I had written that, would you believe it?
The book is up to 88k+, and I recently got that rarest of visitors, a personalized rejection letter.  Until I read it I had forgotten that my first submission, back in 2000, I think, also got one.  If I can ever find it, I'll put it up on my wall, as if I remember correctly it was from Weird Tales.

Good evening, Dave.

So now I'm back up and working.  My machine is running, with some slightly adjusted software, ( I had to download OpenOffice to be able to open my wps files) and I'm back on the treadmill.  My first draft is up to an 82k word count, and aside from having lost a TON of stuff, like all my demotivational posters, the life has resumed.  Onward and upward.