Monthly Archives: August 2007

Ill Timed Reject

You know what I’ve noticed?

Getting a rejection for a story that I consider one of the best ones I’ve ever written sure puts a damper on my enthusiasm for working on a new short story. 

I go through this every time.  “Why do I bother?  I’m wasting my efforts.  I may be mildly clever but not enough to stand above the other three-billion writers vying for the same publishing space.”

Then I have to go vacuum, or wash dishes, or dance around with my iPod, and then come back to write … simply because I love the act of creating.

In the end that’s all a writer can really count on.

Dan Attacks "Attack of the Show"

Tonight I just found out my old buddy Dan Leadbetter was on an episode of Attack Of The Show. Let’s see if the embedded link works:

Seized By My Muse

My novel has been completely derailed.

Forced off the tracks.

Pushed aside.

By what? A short story idea that has grabbed me and won’t leave me alone. It keeps saying, “Write me! Write ME! WRITE ME NOW!”

“But,” I tell it, “I’m a third the way through writing a novel. I need to concentrate on that.”

“Your freaking novel will still be there when you’re done with me,” it argues back. “Strike while the iron is hot! I’m short! I’m uncomplicated. And … I’m very, very fun.”

My resolve is eroding. Fun is good. Fun sounds like fun.

So, my novel has been derailed by a fun little short story. Let’s hope it really is short.

Photographic Proof!

I have a brain!

Is it just me, or does this MRI scan make me look a bit like Homer Simpson?

Because You Never Know When You'll Be Sitting Next To A Rocket Scientist

So I’m riding home from the airport on one of those shared ride busses, and I’m sitting next to a rather dapper looking fellow with a tweed suit and dark rimmed glasses. He has wild curly black hair and a distracted look on his face.

It’s been a long flight. I’m not really in the mood to talk. He doesn’t say anything, so neither do I.

An hour later we arrive at his destination, and he pays the driver with a credit card, and the driver asks, “So you’re a doctor or something?”

“Actually,” he says with a slight Russian accent, “I’m a scientist.”

I’m already kicking myself.

“What, like a nuclear scientist?” the driver asks.

“No, actually I’m a rocket scientist.”

Now I’m really kicking myself. “Darn,” I say, “I’m a science fiction writer! I should have been talking to you all this way!”

He looks at me, mouth open. “You’re a science fiction writer?” he says. “I love science fiction!”

But we’re at his hotel and he has to get off, and the driver has to drive me home. So it was a lost opportunity for both of us.

Lesson learned: Always strike up a conversation with someone you’re sitting next to, because you never know. It might be someone you’re actually interested in talking to.