No big news, but I thought I'd check in. Here are a few things going on in the glamorous life of a professional writer! Get ready to quit your jobs, kids. After this, you'll want nothing more than to join me on the front lines of literary greatness.

-  Speaking of jobs, my search for a normal one goes on. And, by normal, I mean "paying" or "steady" or even "one that doesn't kick me in the balls on a daily basis". Maybe that last one is overly dramatic. The kicks come maybe once or twice a week actually. Also, that's most jobs. Anyway, there were a few prospects that seemed like sure bets and I haven't heard anything from them. Times are hard...the economy...blah, blah. Anyone know where I can sign on for one of those underground prize
fight clubs or evil mercenary gigs I read so much about? Hey! Comic books count as reading!!

-  Been watching Daredevil on Netflix. Ahhhh. Finally, something good has happened. Gritty and true to the source material. I've been doing my best to ration myself. Binge watching only means waiting longer for the next season.

-  Those brat burgers I mentioned last post are AMAZING!! Worth every calorie.

-  Sat down to start writing again for the first time in a long while. It feels good to get back to my REAL work. On the agenda for the immediate future is some western series work for ebooks and getting off my ass to FINALLY get the second Gillis Ledgers book out there. That one's been written for a while and the cover is even done. Looks great. I just got sidetracked before edits could be made. Won't be long before another of my spawn is out and about.

-  Filed my taxes. Was informed they were rejected. Filed them again. Waiting. Sigh. What's the matter, IRS? Can't wait to get my IOU for a couple hundred bucks??

You might have spotted a common theme through this and several other posts around here. Waiting. Ugh. Don't remind me. Oh yeah, you didn't remind me. I reminded me. I hate me sometimes!!!!

Whenever I go grocery shopping, I've gotten into the habit of picking out one item upon which to bestow the glorious title of Grocery of the Day. As I've said numerous times throughout my books, the secret to a happy life is cheap thrills.

So this time, I was after some turkey burgers. I usually get the frozen ones with jalapeno or jack cheese. They're not great calorie-wise, but better than the alternative. Sitting directly beside them were the Johnsonville Brat burgers. SO much higher in calories, but oh so delicious! The last time I had one was before I was watching my weight and I still dream about them. I was going to be good and get my turkey burgers...until I saw the brat burgers with Swiss cheese and mushrooms!! After about two or three seconds of deliberation, I snagged me a box of those.

Sure they might be higher in calories than even the regular brat burgers, but how could I pass up the Grocery of the Day??!!! Thank you, Johnsonville. Thank you so bloody much.

When I was speaking at that high school gathering a little while ago, one of the students asked me if I was crazy. She was a great listener and was eager to learn about our craft, which means I don't think she was yanking my chain. Most likely, I wasn't the first writer she's encountered which means she already knew that we're all a little crazy. Either that, or I had a particularly wild look in my eyes that sometimes makes people feel "uncomfortable" around me. Heh.

What I believe is that she already knew what it takes to be even a mild success in any creative field. You gotta have a lot of heart, iron will and a complete disregard for practicality. In fact, a well known doctor and brilliant thinker once called practicality the last refuge of the mediocre. Of course, that man was Dr. Miguelito Loveless from The Wild Wild West, but his words still ring true. If we are to succeed as artists, we must fight to maintain our spirit while most everything around us tries to grind it down.

Money, power, a corner office, those sorts of things don't really make a dent to the artistic parts of the brain. Unfortunately, the artistic part of some people's brain (prime example: ME) overshadows damn near everything else. Folks like us don't see the point of sacrificing time and effort to hoard all those small pieces of paper. We yearn for experiences, emotion and the fantastic. Would I love to be rich? Sure! There's always the chance that one of my books could hit it big in one way or another, but that's a gamble I take with every word I type. Would I do what needs to be done to take the more certain way of getting material success? Would I devote myself to learning the game of finance and big business to amass wealth? Nah. I'm just not made that way. I'm not condemning people who do throw themselves into the business world. I just don't get it and wouldn't be any good at it. I know my limitations.

As I mentioned a few posts ago, I'm looking for a day job to supplement my income. That's definitely been reminding me of just how unqualified I am for just about everything else that's out there. It's lead to a good deal of frustration, mainly with myself, for not having any marketable skills. I think back to all those years when I could have been bettering myself in a more practical way. That sure would have made things easier for me now.

But even here, at the point where I feel the pinch more than ever, I simply don't regret being impractical. This is just how I am. This is just how WE, as artists and creative folks, are. Is that crazy? Strictly speaking...yeah.  A little. But at least it ain't mediocre.

I don't get out much. It's best that I lead with that because I don't know any better. My human interaction is fairly limited because...well...see Line #1.

Heh. Seriously, though, I ventured out into the world today so I could join some of the bright-eyed Creative Writing students at Hurricane High School for a Q & A session / writing workshop / pizza party. At least, they were as bright-eyed as one might expect for students within a day and a half of spring break. They were actually great and it always does me a lot of good to see so much enthusiasm for the written word.

I hear a lot of griping (and do plenty of it myself) about this industry and the current state of literary affairs. What's really important, though, is that there are still fresh talents out there striving to take up this noble calling. Yes, I do believe this is a noble calling. Storytelling is one of humanity's greatest accomplishments next to music, philosophy and mixing chocolate with peanut butter. It does me a whole lot of good to go out and meet the creators of the next wave of books, poems, and general creative goodness. I even got to hear a few samples of their work and I hated them! Only because I wasn't so good when I was in high school!!

All jealousy aside, it was a great day and I was very impressed. Of course, they did butter me up with pizza and brownies, so...there's that.

I won't bore you with another "it's tough out there" rant, although I can't promise I won't bore you with it some other time. Lately, however, I've been on the hunt for a day job and it's been brutal. What's particularly depressing is that many jobs that fall under the category of "I can always get one of those when I'm desperate" are turning me down. Call center stuff, production work, customer care, all things that I've done plenty of times before in plenty of other places now don't find me qualified.

Bad economy. I'm old. I'm over / under qualified. Doesn't really matter anymore. The reasons are all just topics for discussion while the bills keep piling up. I can be somewhat charming in person, but the whole begging for more time routine is wearing thin with my landlord. Oh well. The only reason I bring it up is because today marks the start of training for a great job I thought I had LOCKED UP. Testing went well. The interview was awesome. I'm ideally located. My history is pretty good. But...nope. Very disheartening.

This topic, while not very cheerful or inspiring, seems appropriate today since it's Vincent van Gogh's birthday. Unappreciated in his time, poor and depressed. Hmmm. Seems vaguely familiar. Not that I think for a moment that my books will ever rise to the level of his paintings, but at least I can relate to the poor and depressed artist thing.

Wah-wahhhhhhh.

I promise to get back to the funnier stuff tomorrow.

So I was flipping through the recommendations Netflix made for me today when I came across Danger 5. It's a show from Australia (I think) about a group of super spy people in a bizarro universe filled with bad props, puppet Nazi dogs, and...of course...Hitler. For the first few minutes I watched slack-jawed, wondering if I might've accidentally hit my head on my way to the TV or if I was in some sort of fever dream. The next few minutes after that, I wondered if this might be a little too far out there even for me. From then on though, I was hooked.

I can't really describe it and for all I know everyone already knows all about this show. Either way, I love it. Now let's just hope the US doesn't try to remake it so they can tone it down and sprinkle in a bunch of idiot reality show stars. I mean, take a look at this....

Nazi Stegosaurus! This show is perfect as is.

There's a lot going through my brain at any given time. I'd use the royal our brains here, but I've had too much experience recently to include EVERYone in the category of having active brain processes. So here we go (in no particular order):