My short story "Toll Booth" has been sold to the Space Tramps: Full Throttle Space Tales #5 anthology. I'm especially pleased because this was an invite-only anthology, I'm working again with the editor who published my first story, and I'll be appearing alongside one of my good friends from college who's a much better than I.
I've read several articles on how you shouldn't take pics with the ipad, because the camera sucks, doesn't have a shitfuckton of megapixels, detachable lenses, a dog and pony show, etc. Added to this, in an almost sing-song fashion, is how silly you will look while doing it.
My response? Fuck that shit. It has a camera, and I will use it, even if it isn't a $6k DSLR with Eye-fi and a trained monkey to run it while I sip martinis from the balcony of some sea-side resort. It's a camera. It takes pictures. It's not the best, but it's what I have to work with.
If I look silly? Who cares. I'm doing what I enjoy, and having fun. Besides, I don't think all the pics I take look like utter shit, and editing them on the ipad is also ...fun.
If you're worried about breakage from dropping your ipad, there are cases and latches you can get to keep your ipad from wandering away or falling, or to protect it in case of such an accident.
Yeh, I felt a need to rant. You have an ipad? Do with it what you want!
Apparently there is some debate about who actually said that. It was someone funny and someone dying. I knew from a book a Batman/Joker short stories that came out around the time of the Michael Keaton Batman movie.
Point is… I cannot personally confirm the first part (except to note all the really incompetent people who have manged to pull off dying) but I can certainly confirm the second part.
The new script that I am working on is my comedy issue. Now I have written funny scenes before. I have written jokes before. I have done stand-up comedy…..and killed! I am pretty funny. But writing a comedy story is really hard.
Individual jokes and funny characters aren’t that hard to do. The challenge is keeping it within the story that I am already telling. Which, thus far, has not been intended as a comedy. I am trying to draw situational comedy out of the characters that I have already created. It would be easy, cheap, and not very funny to simply bring some weird character who either makes jokes or is the butt of them. Instead, I have to let my characters interact and draw out the humor in what they are doing.
This is the least confident I have been in the course of this entire project.
As a note of encouragement, as I began to write this “poor me” post cable TV saw fit to start showing the Bewitched movie. A bunch of people who do comedy for a living spent weeks and months of their lives trying to make a funny movie…. and essentially failed. And while that is more scary than encouraging, it does support my initial point… comedy is hard.
I know spring is coming. Not calendar-spring ---that's passed--- but true spring. I haven't seen crocuses this year; I think they got ran over and are hiding, or dead. But I've seen the rising bits of maybe irises or tulips. Flat-bladed greenery, in anycase. And my skull is filled with sinus pain that creeps along my nasal passages to my eyes, and makes my eyes itch. My bones ache with the storms that pass and skip over our home.
I saw a dust storm this morning. Sandy clouds and air that felt like chalk. I would have expected the dust-clouded sky and the gritty air-taste elsewhere. But not here. Here, with the water so close, it feels wrong to the marrow.
I wonder who else has noticed it. I don't know who would. They didn't notice the loons vanishing, or any number of other things. Why this? It's just dust.
I look at the pictures and I can't even imagine what it must be like over there. I'd imagine, since I've thankfully never gone through it, that a fire would be better than a tsnuami because at least you can go back to the place your house once stood, even if said home is nothing but charcoal and bits of melted plastic and metal. With the tsunami there's just no telling where it once was. Sure, roads may have survived and that can indicate where things probably were but the place where your family's home may have been could be buried under tons of mud and the remains of other people's homes. Or the remains of other people.
I look at the faces of the people in the pictures and there just seems to be such shock and pain at the devastation and loss that it's almost uncomfortable, like inadvertently catching someone during some private, intimate moment. I know that the pictures are important, that we need to see the cost of what's happened there, but they make me wonder if the pain in Japan is ours to share.