Belly

Monday saw me getting ready for work as usual.  I was nearly ready to leave, only needing to put shoes on my feet and grab my keys.  I slid my feet into them and squatted to tie the laces.  Were the laces shorter?  No.  Were my arms shorter?  I didn't think so.  My shirt sleeves seemed to fit normally.  I bent, grimaced, exhaled forcefully, bent again and managed to grab the laces.  Frantically I tied them on my left shoe.  I stood, exhaled, and bent to tie the right shoe laces.  I felt slightly off balance, maybe a little dizzy.  I realized I could bend myself no further, and I was running out of air.  I stubbornly gritted my teeth, sloppily finished tying, and rolled back onto my butt to suck some wind.  That's when I made the decision to buy loafers.  No!  I decided to get back on my diet.

A couple of years ago, I heard about a diet program detailed in a book called "The 4-Hour Body", by Timothy Ferriss, when the Nerdist podcast guys interviewed him.  I was intrigued but skeptical, as I am of most diet programs.  I'm not sure what convinced me to buy the book.  It could have been Ferriss' pitch and his testimony of trying out the process on himself.  It could have been the testimonies of others.  I know the premise of quick fat loss with minimal cooking and exercise peaked my interest.

In short, I wanted to lose 15 pounds, and I lost eight in the first week.  I was alarmed, but pleased.  I knew that the theory of drastically reducing simple carbohydrates from the current diet I followed could have dramatic results, but I had imagined losing two or three pounds per week at a maximum.  I never lost that much in one week again, but I did enjoy a net weight loss each week.  Sometimes I lost as little as half of a pound, sometimes as much as three pounds.  I reached my goal in about 3 months, and I maintained that weight as long as I followed the simple rules.  My favorite rule was that I got to break the rules one day per week:  CHEAT DAY!

I lived for Cheat Day, which I celebrated from the time I woke on Saturday morning until late Saturday night.  I ate whatever I wanted in large quantities.  I was keeping my body from adapting to a diet consisting of mostly meat, beans and vegetables.  There were some minimal exercises I needed to perform on Cheat Day, but most of the day was devoted to gluttony.  Sometimes I would gain 7 or 8 pounds.  Alarming?  Yes, at first.  The weight disappeared usually by Wednesday.  In a life like mine, where I didn't have an hour per day to exercise and needed simple meals I could fix quickly, this diet seemed ideal.

Now I'm back on the diet, and we'll see how it goes.  There are times when it's hard to stick to the eating regimen, especially when surrounded by things I would rather eat.  I try not to stress over it if I have a weak moment here or there.  I did fall off the diet for a time, experimenting with complex carbohydrates here and there like oatmeal at breakfast.  I gained weight nearly immediately.  I nosedived off the diet more recently, thus the near hypoxia while tying my shoes.

I'm not a dietitian, doctor, nurse, or personal trainer.  This is just something that worked for me and seems to have worked for many others.  My goal is simply to fit into some of the clothes I used to wear and take some strain off my knees and back.  I still look forward to Cheat Day (just two days away as I write this), but I don't think it will be the orgy of cupcakes, ice cream and Cheetos that I mentioned earlier.  I just enjoy the freedom to have a sandwich or some chips and salsa.  Well, maybe a couple of cupcakes couldn't hurt.

Less TV is More

As much as I love to read, my wife and I nearly always fall onto the couch and watch some TV before bed.  (Then I read until I realize I've been repeating the same paragraph over and over again, and maybe it's time I go to sleep.)  There's a lot of good storytelling on TV now, and we enjoy most of the same things, recording a lot of it to a DVR to watch later when we have time.

Lately I've been wondering what we can cut out of our budget.  It's an exercise I go through when I start contemplating seismic activity in my work environment, or a career change or how much money it would take to pull my weight supporting my family if I decided to write full-time.  Also I've been wondering if our internet access could be faster if we shell out more money, somehow without paying for a cable upgrade. 

My wife is always up for a good bargain hunt, willing to shop around and crunch numbers.  We've started making lists of:  programs we might access via other (legal) means; programs we would be willing to wait for Netflix or Amazon Prime to pick up; programs we would want to watch immediately.  We've started weighing pro's and con's like the DVR included in our current package vs. buying our own and doing homework about program schedules.  In the end, I think it will happen either with our present provider or one we used to pay.  We seem to pay for a lot of TV we don't watch and get low bandwidth as a bonus.

As I age and my memory gets worse, I could easily watch programs I've seen before as if for the first time.  I look forward to it, as a matter of fact.  Others I just want to watch over again with my son when he's old enough:  Breaking Bad (not so long ago), Farscape, Firefly, X-Files, Lost, Freaks and Geeks, Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles, etc.  Most of these are available on Netflix.  I have some of them on DVD (that thing that preceded Blu-Ray, son).

So why haven't I done it already?  There's more homework to do about a replacement DVR and what I might need with it, like a programming guide service.  We're also anxiously awaiting "Better Call Saul" on AMC, and I'm anticipating that we'll need to buy that along with "The Walking Dead" if we cancel cable.  "The Strain" really hooked me last season and will be returning at some point.  "Fargo", which I thought would be only a single season mini-series, blew me away and will be returning.

There's a trend here.  I could really get by with just a few channels and continue watching everything I enjoy.  Unfortunately, the cable companies know this, too, and they really don't want me to be able to buy just AMC, FX, and a couple of other channels.  Maybe one day this will be a reality.  I think it would really weed out the junk, but in the meantime perhaps outright purchases of specific programs will have the same effect in the long term.

Hero Envy

I've been a comic book lover for nearly 30 years.  I've never accumulated a good collection, but I do have some stashed in the attic.  Every once in a while I pull them out of their bags and get lost in them.  I tell myself that I keep them for my son to read one day.  All boys go through a comic book phase, though it lasts longer for some of us.

In many ways, those comics are a link with my childhood that I can't bear to sever.  The larger-than-life characters were better than real to me.  They were idealists, iconoclasts, but mostly they were heroes in an age that needed them desperately.  It's my desire to be heroic that attracts me to these stories again and again.  Of course, longing to accomplish heroic deeds and actually performing them are very different things.  I'm afraid of bees, for crying out loud.  Leaping from rooftops, dodging bullets, and wearing tights all seem like feats best not attempted.

Video games are the perfect arena for me to practice heroics.  I can dispense metric tons of butt whuppin', save the innocent, thwart hordes of alien invaders, and all without worrying about injuries or even leaving my living room.  Tabletop role-playing games provide me with similar opportunities and an infinite number of twists and turns along the way.  As a bonus, many of these sessions, spent with friends and dice, have spawned ideas for stories I've written.  The very nature of these games lends to storytelling on an epic scale, with multiple people contributing to the end result.

Skeptics might argue against the value of all the time spent imagining rather than engaging in something more tangible.  At the end of the day, they could say, no matter how many monsters I've kill or what level my Half-Elven Ranger has attained, nothing has been accomplished.  I disagree. I've always craved the feeling of having saved the world.  Now that I'm "grown up" and know how unlikely it is I will ever actually do that, these outlets are even more important to me.  Most of the time, I have to take solace in small victories:  helping my son finish his math homework, returning my shopping cart before it dings somebody's car, helping my mom with her computer, or keeping my cool when the bumble bee lands on my leg.  Maybe I am a hero to the kid who needs to understand geometry, or the lady who doesn't have to pay the body shop, or my mom who is much more comfortable using a typewriter.  (I can't speak for the bee.)  I guess these small acts can be enough if I can save the pixelated Princess every once in a while.

Landmine

The sound hit both of our ears as he stepped on it, but he reacted to it first.  He probably felt it under his boot before recognition dawned on either of us.  We instinctively froze in the heat, sweat dripping, the smell hanging there and the mosquitoes flying around, daring us to move a muscle to swat them.  He let me take his rifle and gently lean it against a tree trunk.

“Stay perfectly still, Private,” I said lamely, like he would do anything else.

“It’s bad, isn't it, Sarge?”  He didn't even move his lips when he asked me, didn't even blink.

“I've seen worse,” I lied.

It sat there plain as day, not even hidden all that well in the leaves and pine needles.  I should've spotted it a mile away, should’ve warned him.  Privates lack focus.  Sergeants have to take care of them like they’re little kids.  Where had my focus been?

“Sarge?”

“OK.  Here’s what we’re gonna do.”  I looked around like the answer was just going to spring out of the ground and fall into my lap.  “I’m gonna unlace that boot.  Then I’m gonna put pressure on it to hold it in place, so we don’t make even more of a mess.  You’re gonna lean on my shoulder and gradually pull your foot out of the boot.”  I looked him in the eye to see if he was tracking.  “Tell me what I just said.  We've got to work together on this.”

“Sarge, you’re gonna unlace my boot.  Then you’re gonna hold it down while I slip my foot out of it.”  He swallowed with an effort to move his Adam’s apple very slowly.

“And you’re gonna put your hand on my shoulder to lean on me while you pull your foot out, right?”  I bit down on my frustration, blaming his fear for forgetting part of it.

“Right, Sarge.”

I eased into position and knelt down near his boot, taking care not to get too close.  No sense both of us ending up in the mess.  I shook my head at the situation and realized I was making him more uncomfortable.  All I needed was for him to start shaking and lose his balance or something.  He might even fall on it.  I took his left hand and eased it onto my shoulder, and he leaned into me like he was hugging his mommy.

Gently I tugged on the knot and untied the laces.  I wadded them into one hand to keep them from dangling down and complicating things.  I put that hand on the tongue of the boot and clamped the other hand around the heel.

“Slowly,” I said.  He just nodded and grimaced as he pulled his foot free.

I looked down at the boot.  It was practically new, and with a little care it might survive this incident with all involved parties a little wiser for the experience.

I picked up the boot and ran the sole through a patch of grass a few times.  It helped a little bit.  I place it carefully to the side of my leg where he could reach it.

“Ok, put your foot back in there.”  He did, and I tucked the laces down the side.  “Let’s find a good stick, and you can start cleaning the poop out of the tread.”

“Oh, I thought you were going to clean it.”  He picked up the plastic dart gun from where it leaned against the tree and looked at me like I'd suggested he go to school without pants.

“You’re a big kid now.  It’s time for you to deal with consequences.  You’ll learn to be more careful where you step.”  He gave up, knowing I wasn't going to change my mind.  We found a good stick and set off for the porch steps.

“Just sit right there and dig it out with the stick.”  I tried not to smile at the memory of doing the same at his age.  “Wipe it on the grass close to the porch where nobody’s going to walk.”

I opened the door and encountered my wife on the threshold.  She looked at our son and frowned.  “Stepped on a landmine.”  She cocked an eyebrow and wrinkled her nose.

“I don’t know how we both missed it, but he’s going to clean it himself.  I’m proud of him for cleaning up his own mess.”  I started to step inside, but she hadn't moved.

Her right hand held out the plastic bag.  I said nothing, just took it and turned around to go collect my prize.

Kickstarter and Other News

Seems like just yesterday that I submitted my story, Catalyst, to Nonlocal Science Fiction.  Today the Kickstarter went live:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/870804010/nonlocal-science-fiction-1

There are some cool prizes for contributions, including free issues and the opportunity to be a guest editor of the next issue.

I'm excited to be part of the inaugural issue from a publisher who is very supportive of emerging writers.  His advice on Catalyst made it a much better story, and a link to his site can be found below.

http://thirtythirdstreet.com/nonlocal-science-fiction/

I was provided with an advance copy for review, and I feel really lucky to be included with some amazingly talented writers in the first issue.  I actually feel taller after reading it.  The cover art is stunning.  Before long it will be on sale, and I will at last be a published author. I'm getting jittery just writing about it.  I will, of course, keep this blog updated with any news I have as the publishing date gets closer.

My writing progresses at a slow but steady pace.  The novel outline saw some additional content this week.  I'm continuing work on a short story that I'm pretty psyched about.  It is chronologically the first in a series of three, though I'm writing them out of order. The first one I wrote featured a character that I really enjoyed creating.  After finishing the story, I wanted to back up and tell a couple of tales from his young adulthood and his passage to manhood.  It's a post-apocalyptic adventure, one of my favorite sub-genres of science fiction, inspired by the role-playing game, "Gamma World".  This is an appropriate place to thank my friend, Cliff, for his Game Master skills and his continued help proofreading my fiction.  Undoubtedly I'll talk about RPG's as invaluable sources of ideas for my past, present and future writing projects in future blog posts.

I continue to amass ideas for future stories and novels within and outside the science fiction genre. I've been writing fiction for a long time.  Catalyst was originally just one of a slew of story ideas.  It kept nagging at me until I worked it into something, banged it around, got some advice and then finally finished it.  In the beginning, I had no idea it would develop into anything worth publishing. You just never know when a daydream will form into something substantial.

Now with even more chins!

I sent my photo and biographical blurb off to my publisher today.  The picture will be used for the publisher's website and Kickstarter, both premiering this coming week.  Look for more about those, as I'll be doing my best to promote them.

I'm really not very photogenic, and I was discouraged when I couldn't find an appropriate photo of myself from the last couple of years. There were plenty with members of my family or getting licked on the face by my dogs. There were also a fair amount of goofy pictures where I donned plush reindeer antlers, or pirate hats, or fake facial hair.  Possibly the most numerous were the hopeless photos:  food in my teeth, eyes closed, almost winking, sleeping with my mouth open, sleeping with my mouth open in the car, foggy glasses, etc.

I settled on a selfie I took in a small park near my house.  The lighting was less than perfect.  I think I stepped in dog poop.  It took about 20 minutes to get one that looked like I was trying not to be scary. It was difficult to angle the camera correctly, so I didn't look like I was looking down into a hole and I didn't drop the camera.  There were a lot of chins in the first few pictures.  An alarming amount of chins.  And I hadn't shaved any of them.

Normally I would've asked my wife to take a picture for me.  She has talent in the photography department, but she's sick and this didn't seem important enough to drag her around to a few locations where the light would be good.  At some point, I'll ask her to take some decent photos of me to use for this here blog and my other social media what-nots.

I hope I'll have a chance to give my publisher a better picture later, but maybe it's for the best that he uses the one I sent.  I think it really captures how tired and crummy I feel.  That might sound bad, but it's important.  I'm finding time to write on top of a full-time job and family obligations.  It's not easy, and it's a good reminder of how important writing is to me, even when I'm tired, sick, and would rather be hibernating until spring.  Somebody once told me that nothing worth doing is easy.  I think there's a lot of truth in that statement.  It's written all over my baggy-eyed, double-chinned face.

The Roller Coaster

The cool, blue of night has descended upon me, every four hours as needed.  I crave the torpor it induces.  Rest eludes me, but then I swallow, recline and eagerly await the coming darkness.  For roughly four hours I will slumber, submerged in the doldrums of blue-green calm.  That's approximately one hour on belly, back, and each side, though if I move I do not recollect.  For roughly two hours I fitfully drowse and yearn to swim again.  Then I stagger, shower, and dress according to instructions stenciled inside my eyelids.

The warm, frenzied orange of day has ascended, every four hours as needed.  Orange spears prodding, orange flames licking, orange orders commanding:  drive, work, eat, work, drive.  For roughly four hours I will toil, produce, run (not walk), expectorate.  Again the swallow and the surge of manic labor, and then for roughly two hours I will stagger, craving blue-green, needing orange but not daring to risk a war between the two.

Welcome aboard the DayQuil-NyQuil roller coaster.  You must be desperately unhealthy to risk the terrors of this ride, regardless of height.  If you choose to prematurely disembark, you will suffer breathless, exhausting bouts of coughing, paralyzing sinus headaches, and restless nights.

The weekend is almost here, so it's a good time to try giving up my roller coaster seat. Maybe a nice herbal tea and chicken soup merry-go-round is in order.

The Novel With No Name

I started working on a novel some time ago.  When I say "working on a novel", I don't mean writing a novel.  I mean working on the stuff that will be necessary for me to write the novel, and none of those things is a title.  I'll have one eventually, but for right now it's just called "Untitled SciFi Novel" in my folders of documents.

What kind of stuff have I been working on?  I'm glad you asked!

I've been making notes about setting details, for one.  It will be set mostly in Colorado, so I've been making notes about climate, flora and fauna.  I checked out geography and decided I would most likely invent a small city that will fit all of the characteristics I want, as far as population and location in the state.  It would be great if I could actually visit Colorado in the spring when the novel is supposed to start, but that's unlikely to happen.  I think I can do all of the traveling I need for my research, without breaking my budget, by using the Internet.

What makes it a scifi novel?  It's got aliens.  Don't worry, that wasn't a spoiler.  There will be details about that in the opening chapter.  It's also set in the future after a global catastrophe and an alien occupation.  I've been making notes about the aliens and the ways that different factions within society have reacted to their presence.  The novel is set approximately 40 years after the aliens' arrival, so people have had plenty of time to get used to them and form opinions about them.

Perhaps I've spent the most time on my character notes.  I'm sincerely attempting to drive the novel through a cast of well developed characters, people who happen to live in a world where aliens have settled.  They are, first and foremost, people who have lives subject to stress, love, curiosity, and a host of other emotional factors, just like us.

In my best attempt to stay organized, I've been working on an outline for the plot.  At times, it's difficult to find more than 10 or 15 minutes per day to work on it in quiet.  The outline helps me stay on track and makes it relatively easy to pick up where I left off.  I have never been one to use outlines in the past, which might be why I've never finished a novel.  I've started at least four that I can remember, without looking back through my computer files.  Maybe someday I'll return to those and try to outline them.

If there's a theme to these blog entries, I want it to be progress in a positive direction.  There will doubtlessly be failures along the way, but that's part of progress for an overall upward, escalator-like ascension toward a goal.  I thought I would never have time to finish a novel, and then I decided that I definitely wouldn't finish if I never started working on it.  If I have to take baby steps, that's what I'll do.  The notes and outline are the beginning, and I will keep climbing until it's edited and done.

I will update this blog with my progress as I continue work on the novel.  I hope you decide to stick around and watch as it all unfolds, even if it happens pretty slowly.  

Happy 2015!

Happy New Year, everyone!

I was lucky to share New Year's Eve this year with a bunch of fun folks.  It's become a tradition for my family to spend it with my wife's college roommates and their families. Our children are around the same age, and though they're growing up quickly I hope we have many years ahead of us to continue the tradition.

One of the interesting conversations I shared with them explored the concept that money cannot buy happiness. I had to agree that I knew some people with lots of money who were unhappy and some very contented people who didn't.  I decided that it could make certain people happy, depending on their priorities in life.  People who enjoy material wealth seem like they would be happy.  Others who value freedom from financial stresses provided by money could certainly achieve a measure of happiness.  I also had to bring up that the source of the money was certainly a factor.  If someone achieved wealth through a job they didn't enjoy, would they be happy?  I couldn't imagine that one could spend a third or more of his or her day involved in something uninteresting and/or stressful and still be happy.

I wish I could make a living doing something I love while still providing for my family.  One day, I hope my writing will provide such a lifestyle, riches or not.  It's the only thing I can think of that I've always loved to do.  2015 seems like as good a year as any for it to happen.  I'd best get crackin'!

I wish all of you happiness in the coming year, through wealth, or health or whatever brings it.  Best of luck to all of you on realizing your dreams this year.