Friday, April 25, 2008

This post is rated R for Rejection.

Hey, still up to my neck in "end of the year" garbage. But, I thought I'd give you guys a little news, I got more word from two more magazines. I got word from Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine about my murder/mystery story. A very polite rejection letter. I also got word from The New Yorker (yeah, it was a long shot, but I thought it was worth a try), and that was another shorter but still polite rejection letter. Oh well. If they don't get accepted, I'll post them on Scrib'd and you guys can read them there. If I do that, and if you do read them, and if you decide to give me some constructive criticism, that's awesome.

Anyway, Im exhausted. I'm gonna crash. Hope you guys are doing okay. I can't wait until life slows down a little. Then I can post an actual post. Anyway, good night all.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Quick Check In

Hey, just wanted to let you guys know that I'm alive. I've been swamped with end of the year essays, projects, and finals are coming up. Thank you all very much for your suggestions, you helped me a lot. I definitely have a good idea. Gotta go, I'm still very busy.

Monday, April 7, 2008

Lesson To Learn

In my teaching class, have to come up with a 20 minute lesson to teach on. For the life of me, I can't think of anything to come up with.

The first lesson I had to do was a 7 minute lecture. I chose "How to Write a Novel," and I covered the basics of brainstorming, outlining, and revising. Writing is my love, so I'd love to do another lecture on that, but I don't know what to do it on. If you guys have the team, please leave me some ideas in the comments. I'd really appreciate it. My lecture is on the 28th.

Thanks for any help you guys have.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Best. Birthday. Present. EVER.

We got in the mail today. Best birthday present ever.
(P.S. Updated profile and pic.)

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

The Bates Motel

Gather round ye lads and lasses and I'll spin you a tale of misery and woe. For on this trip that was such a dreary occasion, the Rayburn family was expecting to have some fun. Unfortuantely, it was not in the cards. The family set out, soon to find that the tv that was expected to work in the van, did not. The movies brought along were useless, as were the video games, and time began to slow. Music can only occupy for so long, and with only one device to listen on, the children were soon sqwabbling over who would get it next, and for how long. Ye it was a long drive, and one taken with few bathroom breaks, as the highway department had apparently been studying our heroes trip, and new to remove all bathrooms, or directions to them.

After much whining and biting of heads, our troop did stop at a quant little inn. Ignoring the ominous skulls and spears and vultures skulking about the premises they went ahead and booked rooms for the whole week. Oh woe, for little they could guess the terror that awaited them. The young manager introduced himself as Norman, a kindly young man, if a bit on the odd side. It seemed odd that he sold weaponry as well as cars and rooms to stay in -- almost as if he were providing one with all they would need for a dastardly night on the town.

Once in the room, the fabulous family was greeted with a shocking sight, one that left them depressed and downtrodden. The walls were dirty, the lights were non-working or dim, the room did swelter, the bathroom was effing freezing, but bearing a forced grin the fam did drop bags and prepare for nighttime. The oldest boy Rayburn, Jason his name was, did learn another horrible truth. Apparently, back problems are a favorite for the fates to play games with, and Jason learned that his back would sing a glorious ode to pain, as the mattresses were built like square bowls, everything sloping toward the middle.

Ye while the beds were unfortunate enough for our heroes, the fates had more in store. For what did Jason find when he rose in the night for a Tums, why bugs invading the room. Much worse than the run-of-the-mill-bug, these bugs were decended from the Huns. They raced in carrying spears and daggers, swords flashing and knashing their teeth. Many a one had a moustache that reached to the floor, which they enjoyed to twirl while they sneered at our tasty looking family of the world. Having slept almost none and already awake, Jason's mother rose to help him find the antacid since he didn't pack the medicine and had no flipping clue where anything that he needed was, but ye, she was ready for the surprise onslaught. Armed with a can of bugspray and a swatter of flies, she beat the demons back to their hole, where they would tend their wounds and plot revenge.

Once Jason had returned to his bed, he learned sleep would dance out of his grasp for the remainder of the night, for lo, did the bathroom grumble and hiss. It seemed the toilet never stopped flowing, and the mystery hidden in the walls threw a festival next to his ear. But surely, if that was enough, more still came to plague him. For while he tried to block out the noises of the room, he heard worse noises still. People in the next room did socialize, with their video boxes blaring loud and true, defiant of what decent people have dubbed "quiet time." What's more, they had kids, who delighted in stomping and screaming and yelling. When the neighbors weren't creating it, the traffic outside would unload noise at the most inopportune times. A fleet of diesels and an armada of motorcycles traveled the road that night, and Jason was awake to count every one.

By dawn the next morn, our heroes were ready to flee from the Bates Motel. They rallied each other from their uncomfortable sleep, and packing their bags in a manic frenzy, canceled the rest of the stay and ran for the hills, to a shining home-away-from-home on a hill, a blessed promise land known as Helluvalotbetter, where they would reside for the remainder of the trip.

Next time, lads and lasses, I shall spin ye more webs of the Rayburn woes, including the Tale of the Stingy Shed Ogre, and the Incredible Shifting Town of Nowhere.