For about the last decade my New Year's Celebration is my wife and I looking into the future. We gain a new perspective on what we are about to face in the upcoming year. Each year we watch movies that take place in the up coming year. This year's 2017 celebration included two horribly great videos, Barb Wire with Pamela Anderson, and Cherry 2000 with a very young Melanie Griffith.
My wife and I had a few family and friends over to partake in our annual entertainment. The mixed company made the movies that much better. Each film turned into our own private Mystery Science Theater. I personally was more thrilled with the commentary. Pamela Anderson always spoke like she was forcing air out while trying to talk. It reminded me of a woman who was trying way to hard to sound sexy. "Half the money? Fine. I'll take half of your daughter". I am not sure if I should be turned on, or appalled she wants to cut a teen in half. Talk about getting mixed signals there. However, Melanie Griffith's voice didn't fit the part either. She was suppose to be this harden "Tracker", but her voice is something you would hear on Teletubbies. I couldn't take her character seriously. The lead bad guy takes the prize for best lines though. You would think the boss, Lester, would have a military like control over his men, but he doesn't. Lester comes off strong yet endearing. "Be friendly, yet firm, and don't break anything. Especially you". "We're counting on you men. Keep the sun out of your eyes, and be yourselves". Yes, those are actual lines from Cherry 2000.
I look forward to next year's party. Our movie list consists of Iron Sky, Rollerball, and Termination Salvation so far.
I want to warn you all as we head into 2017... We need to wear more leather, listen to grunge music, and... Toaster ovens are what we use as money. Just a heads up.
My wife and Mother-in-law are putting together a "Meet the Author" Event at the bookstore for 1:05 a.m. An ice Era Chronicle. I am honored that they are going through all this preparation. I would tell them it isn't necessary, but I'm pretty sure that would burst their balloons. (That's both literal and figurative.)
Anyway, i know some of you (the ones near me in Minnesota) will be stopping by. I am excited to visit with some of my friends and who knows, I might even make some new ones. I know what you're thinking... isn't he a crabby war vet? Yes I am, but I will be charming for that afternoon. I promise.
I am continuously getting myself into trouble. I have spent countless days and nights pouring over this novel, and I am sure there will be even more books to follow. I have neglected household chores, vehicle maintenance, and my responsibilities to my volunteering to name a few. There is one person who deserves my undying praise through this whole process. That person is my best friend and my wife.
Monica, you are amazing! My wife is the tug boat that moves my over-sized dreams around. She has pushed, pulled, and reorganized my life to have everything fall into place. Monica is solely responsible for researching out publishing houses, and selecting Stephanie with the Troll River Publications. Not only does she cover my butt with household chores, Monica is one of my mostest, bestest, critical editors. Without you this book would still be under my bed, or worse, still stuck in my head.
This all started about three years ago on a long road trip. Monica talked about books she has read, and how she couldn’t find the book she wanted to read. That is when I told her my idea of a book. I had her hooked. Now I should admit she added the love story to the novel. I don’t regret her additions at all. Watching Karma and Rea’s story unfold on the pages before our eyes has been amazing. I look forward to seeing what comes of Nova and Arrow. 2:05 a.m. An Ice Era Chronicle (Book 2)
I love you, Bestie!
Last Halloween I went out. I don't normally go out, but my wife and her friend told me it would be fun. Generally, I like Halloween, but this one was a little weird, even by Halloween standards.
We went to a bar that has a place to smoke out on the balcony. (I know, I know...bad for you, blah blah blah) Anyway, I had a cigar with my wife, a friend of mine dressed as a "Veteran", and my wife's friend dressed as Tuesday Adams. We were all sitting around a table having a drink when the night got...I don't know, Halloween-ish.
From where we were placed, I could see a large glass window and a glass door that led back into the bar from the patio. While visiting with my friends, a man I'd never met before in a gray suit joined me at our table. We will call him "Mr. Gray Suit". Mr. Gray Suit sat next to me and complimented me on my suit (I was dressed up as Freud.) The thing was, I didn't mind the compliment, it is a nice suit, but then he just kept touching the suit and started to rub my shoulders and arms I got to thinking it wasn't a compliment it might be a pickup line. Both my wife and her friend just laughed, and I guess they didn't think that odd at all. After a few more drinks...not me drinking mind you, but after Mr. Gray Suit had a few more, he left to dance with Frankenstein.
Once I was free of being pet, I went to the bar for my wife. While I was away, Mr. Gray Suit asked my wife if I was "Going home with anyone.” My wife...for whatever reason...being a jerk maybe?...she said something like "I don't really know his story. You never know how a night will go."
(Later when I asked her why she said this she responded "That's true, I don't own you. You could've gone home with someone else. You never really know") HA!
Anyway, when I sit back down Mr. Gray Suit is back to sitting with me, and I figure it's fine. He is drunk so whatever. As we're sitting across the table from the glass door, I notice a woman come out on the balcony. The woman is dressed as nothing, aka No Fun Lady. Now No Fun Lady is holding her finger out like she is pointing at someone, but her finger isn't stationary. She is making a slow circular motion with her hand. At the same time, her hand is moving, her head is looking around the room moving in the opposite direction. I think this is very odd.
I look to my wife and our friends across from me, and I say to them "Do you see that woman?"
And after everyone asks "which women" I then proceed to copy her pointing action. I think I made a passing comment that I thought it was strange that her hands and eyes were not moving together, but in opposite directions. (I just want to add here that I wasn't making a judgment. I am a writer. I just notice the way people move sometimes. I don't care how No Fun Lady looks around a balcony I just thought it interesting.)
After I make the gesture with my hand to copy her pointing, from behind her a man (her boyfriend?) he gives me the finger. The guy giving me the finger is dressed up as the Riddler. I can't help it. I think this is funny. I suppose I think getting the finger is funny because of many years in the army where inappropriate gestures lose all meaning. Plus...it's The Riddler!
So The Riddler gives me the finger (I guess because I was mocking his girlfriend, but actually I was just pointing her actions out) and at that point I laugh and say "I love you too."
Okay, maybe I shouldn't have done that, but honestly, I really didn't care what he was doing. I was perfectly happy with my wife, a couple of friends, and well...I did have a nice looking guy with a gray suit on my arm who apparently loved me. My night was going alright.
Well, I guess The Riddler didn't like the love, so from the corner of my eye I see a drink come flying at me. The Riddler lobed his drink like a grenade over No Fun Lady and with very little aim. The plastic cup hits the table and gets my right sleeve and all of Tuesday Adam's dress.
I am on the cusp of getting up when Mr. Gray Suit shoots out of his chair. He stands up so fast that his chair fly's out from behind him. As he jumps up, The Riddler sees him and makes a mad dash away. I can see The Riddler run past the glass window and Mr. Gray Suit is in hot pursuit. After only a few seconds, I see The Riddler run past the window again, Mr. Gray Suit is right behind him.
A few minutes later Mr. Gray Suit comes back out onto the balcony. I had been helping Tuesday Adams get dried off and trying to dry out my sleeve. When Mr. Gray Suit returns, he announces that he chased The Riddler out of the bar and then talked to the bouncer.
So I learned two things that night. One: If you go out on Halloween you should expect it to be weird. Two: I guess gay men are chivalrous.
I think I'll go out again this year.
I made the mistake of telling my editor that I wrote book two. Now that my fearless leader knows my second novel is written, she’s all like “Great! Send it to me in three weeks!” That was a week ago, and I have not even started editing it yet.
I gave it to my wife first. I work on everything with my wife Monica (She is the M. in C.M. Moore). She handed it back to me with a shake of her head. That means that right now she won’t touch it with a ten-foot poll.
So back with it in my hands, I cracked it open. When I began to edit, I was shocked at the book. The novel is riddled with problems that before I didn’t even know existed. I’ve learned so much re-working 1:05 a.m. that I am embarrassed by book two. The problem is, I still like the heart of the story. The road to getting my first book out was long and arduous. I think some part of me thought that 2:05 a.m. would be easier in a way. It’s not.
And now to admit a dark secret…I am not editing at all.
I began to write 3:05 a.m. I had this really great idea for it. I’m having so much fun. When my head is caught up with characters from a book it makes it almost impossible to work on something different. There is a quote I once read that talked about how you must bat away ideas while you are writing. I’m not someone who can do that. I am deep into book three, and I can’t pull myself away from it. I’m not batting away even one single idea.
And now to admit an even darker secret…I went hunting.
Please don’t tell my editor any of this. Thanks and I'll be back in a week.
I wrote a poem, here it is:
I can't believe I wrote a book.
I can't believe I wrote a book.
It's pretty cool.
Okay, so I'll admit that isn't a very good poem, but I really can't help this awful blog post because I'm so excited. The book is out on pre-order on Amazon today! I am so happy I can't write! (Don't tell my editor that I do my best writing when I'm sad.) This has been such an exciting journey and now to see all the hard work come together, it's truly amazing.
I have to be in the right mood to write. I don't understand authors who can just push out book after book. It's like they have a magic reservoir of words they get to just dip into whenever they want. I mean I am impressed with Nora Roberts and authors like Christine Feehan, but really how do they do it?
Today I am arguing with my spouse. When things in my world are off, writing becomes impossible. I do find that funny, however, when I am in this odd place. You see, when my better half is mad at me we don't talk. Because we are not speaking to each other, I have all the time I want to write. But because we are not getting along I cant put down a single word. When we are happy with each other then I spend my spare time chatting happily instead of writing. I should be completely shocked I have written two books at all.
The real problem I'm having today is the fact that I am supposed to be writing a sex scene. Not feeling it at all. Getting glared at all day doesn't start my engine. My house is downright frosty. Today would be a great day to have a couple of my characters kill someone. To bad they're all getting along.
My newest book I just started writing a few weeks ago. I have about 38,000 words done. I think it is just going to have to wait until I get make-up sex. Either that or I make Margo (My main female character) kill everyone and then just go on alone into the world.
That would be a crap romance novel.
, After I finished writing my first book, I thought fun. After my second and third, I thought... fun. By the fourth, I realized I wasn't improving. Not so fun.
It was about then that I decided I needed to do something if I was to ever get better. Shortly after that is when I met the trolls. The Troll River Publishing House is why I'm here. I know I could have kept my books under my bed and just went along as I was doing, but I knew by doing that I'd never improve.
I told a friend of mine that if they played the piano, and as they sat alone in their house, if they kept playing the wrong note they might eventually want to learn the right way to play. That is how I felt. It wasn't that I ever wanted to play in a grand concert hall, I just wanted to know the right notes. That is how writing goes for me. I just want to get better.
The women who have helped me learn are amazing. All of them are gifted writers and they all work very hard. I am very exciting to be sponging off of them.
That being said, the amount of information they toss my way is staggering. For all the Vets out there with a T.B.I. you might appreciate this term. The knowledge flow is like drinking from a fire hose. I can not gulp it all down. I can, however, endeavor to take sips, and I hope that when 1:05 a.m. comes out that you might all appreciate my efforts. Even if you hate the book, I'll be happy that I wrote it. That's enough.
That's a lie. You can all hate the book... but I want you all to but a copy! I want a patio for my back yard.
In the past, on the 4th of July, I have spent my evening in the basement of my house.
I'm not the first Vet to do this and I doubt I will be the last.
However, this year, I decided to make my P.T.S.D.-my bitch.
This year I made up my mind to take my kids to a 4th of July BBQ, let them enjoy fireworks, and I was going to survive it all.
Just an FYI... I did survive.
Right after I came home from Afghanistan my wife and I went to Las Vegas. While there, I was told we were going to watch a Pirate Show. I was on the sidewalk, watching hot girls dressed in clothes I doubt any self-respecting pirate would wear, when a cannon went off next to me.
Needless to say I didn't take it well.
Since then, I have not handled the large explosions of life with grace. (That is to say: all the large explosions outside of my bedroom. Inside my bedroom is a different thing.)
Anyway, I just realized that my actions became habit. I didn't want to be eighty-years-old and realize that I missed watching my daughter's eyes light up as they watched the night sky fill with color. I also knew that I didn't want to wake up one day and realize that I didn't even try.
So this year I tried.
The firecrackers going off in the neighbors yard wasn't my favorite thing, I will admit that, but I got out my basement. So I guess that's a step in the right direction.
Our Book List in Order: