If finishing were nearly as simple as starting
I would have a library at my disposal.
I would have written volumes of honesty
filled with vacuums of lies-
endless tales of falacy
sprinkled with the essence of truth.
If finishing were possible the end would be now.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
The Mills Project
"Its supposed to be cooler than this in November."
"Yep. You know what it is, its that darn global warming. Gonna melt them polar ice caps and we're all gonna die."
"Don't be dumb, Warren. Everybody knows that global warming's just something Al Gore made up because he didn't have anything to do after he got done inventing the Internet!"
"Well, you're the one who said it was warm, geez, you don't have to call me dumb."
"You're right, you're not dumb, just mentally limited... Hey, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
THWACK!
"Now I heard it! Whadya think it is?"
THWACK!
"I don't know, but its our job to find out. Lets go."
Tom Baker and Warren Sakler had been partnered-up as security guards at Mills Laboratories for over eight years now. Warren always joked that they spent twice as much time together as with their wives, and Tom always said that it was better like that. The less he saw Diane the less time they had to argue.
"Do you see anything on the security monitors?" Tom asked, just as Warren started scanning the bank of small black and white TV's on the opposite wall.
"Nope, but camera 12 still ain't working. I sent in a repair order over a week..."
THWACK!
"Alright, lets go. Camera 12 is Dr. Micales lab. We'll check there first."
Both security guards reached instinctively toward their holsters and unbuttoned the safety clasp. Tom couldn't help but smile. This is why he took this stupid job in the first place, since he'd been discharged from the Marines he'd been doing everything he could to try to find a way to duplicate the adrenaline rush of the war in Iraq. It turns out that being head of security at Mills Laboratories didn't offer quite as much action as he'd expected.
He could feel the hair on the back of his neck begin to slowly stand up like sleeping giants who've waited patiently for ages just for an excuse to wake up.
Warren on the other hand was already starting to get the nervous shakes. His palms were starting to sweat and the raising of the hairs on his neck sent chills down his spine.
"I hope there's a bad guy in there, I can't wait to see his face when we storm in there!" spat Warren. He always tried to overcompensate for his lack of bravery by acting overly confident. Nobody was fooled.
"We won't be storming into anywhere, Warren. Shhhh."
THWACK!
As they walked quickly down the corridor that led to Dr Micales' lab the noise was becoming more pronounced. Tom's military instinct was starting to kick in. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Identify the problem. Assess the situation. Then formulate the best way to solve the problem.
What is that sound? It was an eerie combination of the sound of a carpet being beaten with a broom stick mixed with the metallic clang of one of those huge, rusty, exhaust fans that always seems to be slowly turning at the end of the room during the climax of every action movie...
"Yep. You know what it is, its that darn global warming. Gonna melt them polar ice caps and we're all gonna die."
"Don't be dumb, Warren. Everybody knows that global warming's just something Al Gore made up because he didn't have anything to do after he got done inventing the Internet!"
"Well, you're the one who said it was warm, geez, you don't have to call me dumb."
"You're right, you're not dumb, just mentally limited... Hey, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
THWACK!
"Now I heard it! Whadya think it is?"
THWACK!
"I don't know, but its our job to find out. Lets go."
Tom Baker and Warren Sakler had been partnered-up as security guards at Mills Laboratories for over eight years now. Warren always joked that they spent twice as much time together as with their wives, and Tom always said that it was better like that. The less he saw Diane the less time they had to argue.
"Do you see anything on the security monitors?" Tom asked, just as Warren started scanning the bank of small black and white TV's on the opposite wall.
"Nope, but camera 12 still ain't working. I sent in a repair order over a week..."
THWACK!
"Alright, lets go. Camera 12 is Dr. Micales lab. We'll check there first."
Both security guards reached instinctively toward their holsters and unbuttoned the safety clasp. Tom couldn't help but smile. This is why he took this stupid job in the first place, since he'd been discharged from the Marines he'd been doing everything he could to try to find a way to duplicate the adrenaline rush of the war in Iraq. It turns out that being head of security at Mills Laboratories didn't offer quite as much action as he'd expected.
He could feel the hair on the back of his neck begin to slowly stand up like sleeping giants who've waited patiently for ages just for an excuse to wake up.
Warren on the other hand was already starting to get the nervous shakes. His palms were starting to sweat and the raising of the hairs on his neck sent chills down his spine.
"I hope there's a bad guy in there, I can't wait to see his face when we storm in there!" spat Warren. He always tried to overcompensate for his lack of bravery by acting overly confident. Nobody was fooled.
"We won't be storming into anywhere, Warren. Shhhh."
THWACK!
As they walked quickly down the corridor that led to Dr Micales' lab the noise was becoming more pronounced. Tom's military instinct was starting to kick in. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Identify the problem. Assess the situation. Then formulate the best way to solve the problem.
What is that sound? It was an eerie combination of the sound of a carpet being beaten with a broom stick mixed with the metallic clang of one of those huge, rusty, exhaust fans that always seems to be slowly turning at the end of the room during the climax of every action movie...
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is upon us again, and without going on and on about why we should all be thankful I've decided to do nothing more than to simply state the following:
Happy Thanksgiving.
On Thursday afternoon take one minute, just sixty seconds, and spend it in silence. Find happiness in the presence of those around you and sentimentality in the thoughts of the ones who are not.
Remember the influence of every one of the people who've been in and out of your life throughout the years, and thank them silently in your thoughts-- if it weren't for them being them then you wouldn't be you.
-JS
Happy Thanksgiving.
On Thursday afternoon take one minute, just sixty seconds, and spend it in silence. Find happiness in the presence of those around you and sentimentality in the thoughts of the ones who are not.
Remember the influence of every one of the people who've been in and out of your life throughout the years, and thank them silently in your thoughts-- if it weren't for them being them then you wouldn't be you.
-JS
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Loneliness Update
For anyone who may not know, I've been outlining and preliminarily writing my first (hopefully) epic novel with the working title of Loneliness (which has already changed three times and I'm certain will change several more times along the way).
I've decided to occasionally include samples and updates of my progress here.
Loneliness falls most in line with the genre of medieval fantasy, and will not include any mention of dwarfs, trolls, or an eminent blackness looming on the horizon.
A tag line of the story so far could be encapsulated as: the life-altering journey of young Wren Asher as she struggles to find meaning after being betrayed by her misguided brother and orphaned by the king's henchmen.
As it stands now I've got approximately three double edited chapters completed with another three chapters rough drafted or single edited. I've also nearly finished my detailed outline of chapters 1-20.
I can also divulge to you that I'm currently struggling with two separate issues:
I've decided to occasionally include samples and updates of my progress here.
Loneliness falls most in line with the genre of medieval fantasy, and will not include any mention of dwarfs, trolls, or an eminent blackness looming on the horizon.
A tag line of the story so far could be encapsulated as: the life-altering journey of young Wren Asher as she struggles to find meaning after being betrayed by her misguided brother and orphaned by the king's henchmen.
As it stands now I've got approximately three double edited chapters completed with another three chapters rough drafted or single edited. I've also nearly finished my detailed outline of chapters 1-20.
I can also divulge to you that I'm currently struggling with two separate issues:
- A large-scale castle siege which takes place from four different yet simultaneous perspectives
- Finding the foundation of a compelling tertiary plot-line/backdrop. I've got a general grasp on where I'm going with this, but I'm still looking for the thread that will connect it to the first two major plot-lines.
Next update I'll include a sample paragraph from the opening chapter.
-JS
Friday, November 21, 2008
I don't just write, I'm a writer!
After years of answering questions or prefacing answers with, "Yeah, I write on the side. Its kind of a hobby. You know, I enjoy it- so if I ever get paid that'll be a bonus. I love to write.", I've broken free.
As the time has ticked ever-so-quickly by, and I actually have gotten paid for a few writing gigs I've decided that its time to step-up to the platform and proclaim loudly to all that will listen, "I don't just write. I'm a writer!", and you should too.
I know it can be viewed as a simple matter of semantics, but the psychological difference between saying that one writes as opposed to saying that one is a writer is profound.
Its like having a breakthrough or an epiphany.
It seems that most of us picture 'writers' as people who sit at cluttered desks surrounded by dusty old Dickens' novels, typing page after page after page, stopping only to occasionally appease their scraggly old cat by petting it several times before shoo-ing it away from their keyboard, and then taking a swig of scotch before quickly returning to tapping-out their masterpiece- never stopping long enough to see daylight or to even consider the chance of having a social life, but that's simply ridiculous (the length of that sentence was equally ridiculous, but I digress).
Okay, that was an extreme view, but we do tend to paint writers into this sort of stereotype, viewing all 'writers' as being a certain type or carrying a certain personality, but in reality- if you write, and your writing doesn't completly obliterate/mangle the English language (and you refrain from using "LOL" as often as possible) then you are a writer, regardless of your personality, behavioral patterns, or current level of writing success.
I know, you don't feel like a writer. You've never hired a literary agent. You don't have a published novel, or article, you don't have a successful blog, or you're not even close to finishing your first short-story or your poetry collection, or whatever... it doesn't matter!
You are a writer. If you write on a consistent basis, if your writing bears some semblance of being grammatically correct, and is at least mildly entertaining or informative then let me be the first to congratulate you-- you're a writer.
Welcome to the fraternity.
The next time you look in the mirror go ahead; smile, say "I'm a writer!", and imagine that beautiful 'mug' of yours being printed on the back cover of your life's greatest work, being carried (and hopefully read) by millions... or at least by you mom.
-JS
As the time has ticked ever-so-quickly by, and I actually have gotten paid for a few writing gigs I've decided that its time to step-up to the platform and proclaim loudly to all that will listen, "I don't just write. I'm a writer!", and you should too.
I know it can be viewed as a simple matter of semantics, but the psychological difference between saying that one writes as opposed to saying that one is a writer is profound.
Its like having a breakthrough or an epiphany.
It seems that most of us picture 'writers' as people who sit at cluttered desks surrounded by dusty old Dickens' novels, typing page after page after page, stopping only to occasionally appease their scraggly old cat by petting it several times before shoo-ing it away from their keyboard, and then taking a swig of scotch before quickly returning to tapping-out their masterpiece- never stopping long enough to see daylight or to even consider the chance of having a social life, but that's simply ridiculous (the length of that sentence was equally ridiculous, but I digress).
Okay, that was an extreme view, but we do tend to paint writers into this sort of stereotype, viewing all 'writers' as being a certain type or carrying a certain personality, but in reality- if you write, and your writing doesn't completly obliterate/mangle the English language (and you refrain from using "LOL" as often as possible) then you are a writer, regardless of your personality, behavioral patterns, or current level of writing success.
I know, you don't feel like a writer. You've never hired a literary agent. You don't have a published novel, or article, you don't have a successful blog, or you're not even close to finishing your first short-story or your poetry collection, or whatever... it doesn't matter!
You are a writer. If you write on a consistent basis, if your writing bears some semblance of being grammatically correct, and is at least mildly entertaining or informative then let me be the first to congratulate you-- you're a writer.
Welcome to the fraternity.
The next time you look in the mirror go ahead; smile, say "I'm a writer!", and imagine that beautiful 'mug' of yours being printed on the back cover of your life's greatest work, being carried (and hopefully read) by millions... or at least by you mom.
-JS
A River Runs Through It
Here is a copy of a marketing article that I published in a local tourism magazine (TravelHost)last fall:
A River Runs Through It
Winding its way methodically through the heart of New Port Richey, the Pithlachascotee River (locals call it “The Cotee”) has somehow been overlooked by the tourism community for years…until now.
A River Runs Through It
Winding its way methodically through the heart of New Port Richey, the Pithlachascotee River (locals call it “The Cotee”) has somehow been overlooked by the tourism community for years…until now.
Recently local business owners Joan and Arden Anderson decided that it was time to afford people the luxury of enjoying the river from the comfort of a kayak or canoe when they recently opened Makai Kayak & Kanoe on Main St. Fittingly he word, Pithlachascotee is of Seminole origin and means “the river where canoes are built”.
“This river boasts some of the best sightseeing opportunities in all of Central Florida,” says manager James Smith, “every day on the river is different, one day you may see a pod of dolphins the next day a family of manatees, and it’s a bird watchers dream out there; eagles, osprey, egrets, and any number of different birds can be seen. Personally, I’m just excited to see people enjoying the river”.
“Our goal as a business is to cater to families. We want locals and tourists to be able to enjoy the river. That’s why we offer hourly rates as well as half and full day trips. As an avid fisherman I am thrilled to be able to offer customers the opportunity to rent a fishing kayak and let them head out in search of ’the big one,’” adds Mr. Anderson.
The Pithlachascotee is a blackwater river that originates in the Cruz Lake area of Pasco County and wends its way over a 20 mile span passing through the Starkey and James E. Grey Wilderness Parks to more residential areas where some spectacular early twentieth century Spanish architecture can be seen. There are also several eateries that can be accessed via the river as it opens toward the Gulf of Mexico at Miller‘s Bayou.
The best thing about paddling a kayak or canoe?
“Anyone can do it, young or old. It’s fun, easy, and affordable. During a time where everything is so expensive its nice to know that you can go have a great day with your family without breaking the budget,” Makai rental manager Mike Jacobs adds, “and if you still find the prospect of kayaking through the wilderness alone intimidating all you have to do is sign up for one of our many guided tours, and we’ll accompany you along the way pointing out the river’s many points of interest.”
“Anyone can do it, young or old. It’s fun, easy, and affordable. During a time where everything is so expensive its nice to know that you can go have a great day with your family without breaking the budget,” Makai rental manager Mike Jacobs adds, “and if you still find the prospect of kayaking through the wilderness alone intimidating all you have to do is sign up for one of our many guided tours, and we’ll accompany you along the way pointing out the river’s many points of interest.”
“Some of the scenery on the river is amazing, every time I paddle upstream I feel like I’m part of postcard or painting, I didn’t think that you could feel so far from civilization while passing right through a city,” says co-owner Joan Anderson, “It’s God at his best.”
Whether you’re looking to escape the tedium of life for an hour or want to get away all day or even all weekend a tour of the Cotee River offers the calm relaxation that you‘re looking for. One of Florida’s best kept secrets is no longer a secret. Join the excitement as locals and tourist alike re-discover the endless beauty of New Port Richey’s own Pithlachascotee River.
-JS
Thursday, November 20, 2008
The Light
Here is the (hopefully) dramatic opening of a short story on which I am currently working:
The light was blinding.
Derek struggled to find his bearings, but couldn’t get past the light. He wasn’t even sure that he was still breathing.
Yes, he was breathing.
His head ached.He didn’t know why, but he had to see past the light.
Something was out there; beyond the light, something important.Someone was crying. Wait, no, someone was screaming! A woman. Far off to his right. He had to escape the light.
Come on Derek, focus. Where are you?
I’m in Vermont.
Why?
I don’t know!
The light was so intense that he’d lost the capacity to differentiate between his eyes being open or closed . It didn’t matter if they were open, there was no way past this god-awful light.
Wait, I came to Vermont to find Caryn.
“CARYN!” he yelled, just before he realized that he shouldn’t have.
His heart broke as he realized that those pain-filled, blood-curdling screams were coming from Caryn. He had to find a way to get past this wretched, white-hot light before it was too late...
-JS
The light was blinding.
Derek struggled to find his bearings, but couldn’t get past the light. He wasn’t even sure that he was still breathing.
Yes, he was breathing.
His head ached.He didn’t know why, but he had to see past the light.
Something was out there; beyond the light, something important.Someone was crying. Wait, no, someone was screaming! A woman. Far off to his right. He had to escape the light.
Come on Derek, focus. Where are you?
I’m in Vermont.
Why?
I don’t know!
The light was so intense that he’d lost the capacity to differentiate between his eyes being open or closed . It didn’t matter if they were open, there was no way past this god-awful light.
Wait, I came to Vermont to find Caryn.
“CARYN!” he yelled, just before he realized that he shouldn’t have.
His heart broke as he realized that those pain-filled, blood-curdling screams were coming from Caryn. He had to find a way to get past this wretched, white-hot light before it was too late...
-JS
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Launch Anyone?
Welcome to the launch of my writing blog.
I guess I'm well behind the curve on this, but I'm told that all writers should have their own writing blog... so here we are.
Here I am.
I will try to incorporate as many various styles/genres of writing as possible as well as to post updates on some of the gigs that I'm working on at any specific time.
Please feel free to comment on any post; whether it be positive or negative feedback, suggestions, corrections, opinions, or any expression of some other derivative.
-JS
I guess I'm well behind the curve on this, but I'm told that all writers should have their own writing blog... so here we are.
Here I am.
I will try to incorporate as many various styles/genres of writing as possible as well as to post updates on some of the gigs that I'm working on at any specific time.
Please feel free to comment on any post; whether it be positive or negative feedback, suggestions, corrections, opinions, or any expression of some other derivative.
-JS
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