Cody Wagner's Blog, page 3

Cancer Sucks: Supporting Harmony. Also Fun Paul Critiques.

I’ve had the pleasure of becoming friends with a fellow writer named Paul Mosier.

He’s one of those people who always has a great attitude about life and tries to make the best out of everything.

Recently, that mentality has been challenged to its extreme as his daughter, Harmony, was diagnosed with cancer:

And it came on so incredibly fast. Basically, they took her to the doctor one day because they were worried she was developing an overbite. It turns out a tumor was growing in the roof of her mouth.

OMFG!!!!!!! The thought is really truly scary.

Since the diagnosis and resulting chemotherapy, Paul’s world has been shaken substantially.

But his gratitude and outlook haven’t changed a bit.

As a result, the support from the community has been UNBELIEVABLE. Paul mentioned tonight that he’s always hated the expression “Cancer is a blessing”. I admit I thought it was B.S., too. But in light of what’s happened over the past month, the saying has manifested itself. People have stepped up in a million billion ways, showing how wonderful humanity can be.

Additionally, Paul’s daughter, Harmony has stepped up. Although only a child, she has shown a tremendous amount of strength, humor, and poise. Just check out this video she made regarding her hair loss:

OK…I can’t seem to load it, LOL. But here’s a screen from the video showing how her hair can be pulled by the handful:

I cried watching this. She literally pulls out her hair for demonstration and doesn’t even flinch. That girl has more strength in her pinky than I do in my entire body. Of course, I’m a huge wuss, so I’m not sure that does it justice.

So what’s the point of this post?

First, I want to raise a little awareness.

A GoFundMe account has been setup for Paul’s family. If you’re able, feel free to make a donation (NOTE: I had to use this image as the link. Harmony did a drawing about how she misses her hair. And I think it’s adorable and hysterical):

Or support Paul by grabbing his books (He’s an amazing author… just tremendous):

Second, while I would love to donate millions of dollars to Paul and his family, my fortunes are tied up in Switzerland at the moment. Instead, I figured I’d donate some fun Paul quotes.

See, Paul regularly attends writers group. And he does this thing where he puts on the straightest face ever and proceeds to deliver the most insane critiques. He totally deadpans it and acts as if it’s the most rational advice on the planet. I admit, the first few times, I couldn’t tell he was joking. And I was thinking, “OMG! I don’t know what to do with this??” I’d end up just smiling and nodding. Now, his critiques crack me up. Here are some of my favorites:

1. Buzzards

In a blog post written by a triathlete who shared her experience passing a 70-year-old man during a race:

PAUL: “I think that, when she looks back, buzzards should be flying around the old man and swooping down to try and eat him.”

2. Painting with Souls

In a poem about painting with the soles of shoes (the woman who wrote it likes to take imprints of shoe soles):

PAUL: “I suggest you try using actual human souls. You could do an exorcism to extract the soul, then grab it, and see if it will hold any paint.”

3. Pork Cracklins

In a scene where a girl is trying to tiptoe past sleeping guards:

PAUL: “I think, when the girl is walking past the guards, she needs to pull out a bag of pork cracklins. Then, she should take one out and try to eat it as quietly as possible.”

4. Easter

In an article on money-saving ideas for Easter:

PAUL: “I think you should suggest that people celebrate Easter a week late. That way they can buy the candy really cheap.”

(NOTE: The author who read the article was new and I swear she did that thing I used to do where her mouth said, “Oh wow! Good idea!” while her eyes said, “WHAT!?!?”)

The post Cancer Sucks: Supporting Harmony. Also Fun Paul Critiques. appeared first on Wagner Writer.

The Amazing Cookie

I’ve shared the story of my coming out to Mom on several occasions. When she passed away, I even wrote a short story about it.

Long story short (see what I did there), she was amazing when I told her. Because of some of the difficulties I shared with her, she actually saw my being gay as a cross to carry. And she exclaimed, “It makes you more like Jesus!”

BTW, if you’re not aware, Mom was extremely extremely verily gigantically religious. I didn’t know what that would mean in terms of her acceptance of my coming out. But I had nothing to worry about as she was awesome.

However, there’s another piece to this story I’ve never shared with anyone outside immediate family. And I’d like to do that now:

Back when I was a kid, Mom formed a really close relationship with a woman named Carrie. Carrie was one of those talented young leaders who people naturally gravitated toward. You know those types? The ones whose natural, positive energy sucks people in? That was Carrie. She’d formed a religious group that had grown substantially since she’d taken over. Mom joined the group with gusto and, because of her affinity for Carrie, became one of its most active members. And she hung on Carrie’s every word like it was poured straight from the Holy Grail. (Is that a weird reference? It makes sense in my head, LOL).

After a few years, Carrie decided she had the calling to become a nun. Mom was so excited for her (she often told us that if she didn’t have kids, she’d join a convent herself). After shipping off to wherever, Carrie got busy and vanished for awhile. Her and my mom lost touch.

Fast forward to a year after I came out.

From out of the blue, she received a phone call. It was Carrie. She said she was coming through town and wanted to meet up for lunch. Mom got soooooo excited. She probably peed her pants a little.

At a little coffee shop, they chatted away for a couple hours. Things were going really well – just two old friends catching up – until I came up.

Mom had put Carrie on such a pedestal, she expected love and rainbows and butterflies. So she proudly announced that I’d come out and told the story of all my extra crosses to carry. And I think, at that point, she probably awaited a gigantic hug.

Instead, Mom got a humongous record screech.

“Cody is…gay?” Carrie said.

Mom heard the derision in her tone. She withdrew a bit but replied, “Yes. He told me last year.”

Unlike other nuns who have been very genuine, Carrie’s nice persona vanished. She adopted the face of pure evil (Kim Davis? Candyman?) and launched into a tirade about how I was going to hell, how I was a sinner, how I was corrupted, and how I would corrupt others. She admonished and belittled my mother for supporting me and told her that she had to stop. Immediately. She told her I had to go seek help.

Now, if any other freaking person in the world had done this, Mom would have blown them off and probably never talked to them again.

But, as I’d mentioned, she’d put Carrie on a pedestal so high, it probably reached Heaven. And she took Carrie’s every word as gospel. The homophobic gospel according to Carrie.

This meeting sent Mom into a downward spiral. She suddenly questioned everything about me. And she felt an enormous amount of guilt, only she didn’t know where it should be directed. It really tore her up inside. As a result, our communication dwindled and our relationship suffered.

The distance sent Mom reaching out to her closest family members. Luckily for me, that included my Aunt Cookie.

I actually don’t know what her real name is. I *think* it might be Inez. We’ve always just called her Aunt Cookie (I think I’d want to be called Cookie if my name were Inez). Admittedly, I wasn’t extremely close with her at the time. She lived in Orlando and I’m terrible at keeping in touch with people that far away.

But she and Mom talked regularly. And Mom called her up after the Carrie Bitch (TM) incident.

After pouring her heart out to Aunt Cookie – along with lots of tears – mom sat back and waited for a response. I think a part of her expected words similar to Carrie’s.

After a few moments, Aunt Cookie said, “Cody’s your son, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you love him, right?”

“Very much.”

“Well then let me tell you something. Being gay is part of who Cody is. And he can’t change that. It’s always been a part of him. So if you love Cody, you have to love the fact that he’s gay.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely! If some awful, self-righteous woman is going to sit there and judge something that’s part of who Cody is, she sounds like an idiot.”

That put the first crack in the pedestal.

Mom and Aunt Cookie talked often about me. And every time, Aunt Cookie patiently stood up for me. And every time, Mom came away a little more heartened. Over time, she became that whole, “progressive mom” again and the pedestal collapsed.

I never knew any of this.

After Mom’s funeral, my siblings and I had to go through all of her stuff. I found a box out in her storage room filled with boxes and other random material. Curious, I began going through it, expecting to find books on popes or saints or pope saints.

I didn’t anticipate a bunch of books on homosexuality. They were about gay children and whether or not to support them. There were also books on the Catholic church’s position on gay rights, etc… Confused, I took them to Windy.

“When did Mom get these?”

Windy looked around uneasily. She knew the whole Carrie Bitch (TM) incident.

“I’m not sure. Online I think.” A diplomatic answer.

“Huh,” I said. “I never thought she questioned me.” I admit that seeing the books was a bit upsetting. I’d had this picture of “progressive mom” in my head, never thinking she’d experienced doubts.

From that, the entire story began emerging. I heard about the awful things Carrie said counterbalanced by the wonderful comments by Aunt Cookie.

Here was a woman I barely knew sticking up for me. And she was so modest, she didn’t even let me know she’d saved my relationship with my mother. If it were me, I’m sure I would have called, said, “You’re welcome!” into the phone, and hung up.

But she didn’t do that.

And I thank her for every kind, supporting word. She even changed her Facebook in support:

Why do I bring all this up?

Well, Aunt Cookie has recently become extremely ill. She may come out of it with flying colors. I hope she does.

Either way, I wanted to write this as an homage to her. So she’ll know that she did something wonderful and life-changing. So she’ll see that her positive life impacted others in a positive way.

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Grandma: A Bookmark Story

As y’all probably noticed, I haven’t blogged in a few weeks. Sorry about that. I’ve been in Dallas for a couple book signings. The traveling and planning took up all my time (along with writing book two, woot!), but here’s a bit about the trip:

In short, Dallas was amazing. I haven’t lived there in three years, so I was worried I might go back to zero support. If that were the case, I wouldn’t blame anyone. Let me tell you, I’m the worst at keeping in touch with people outside my immediate circle. Still, I was like “What if I go back and three people who show up to my events? And what if I pay all this money to ship books and then have to take them back to Phoenix? And what if they weigh my suitcase down and I go over that 50-pound limit and have to pay six-thousand dollars?”

Fortunately, I had nothing to worry about.

Lots of people came out. I got to see soooo many old friends. (Wait…I’m not saying they’re not old. I’m just saying we’ve just been friends for a long time. I swear! In fact, everyone looked youthful and amazing. I think they’re actually getting younger. Don’t hate me.) On top of that, they brought “The Support” (TM) with them. I couldn’t believe how many people had either read my book or grabbed a copy of it.

And I also got to hear peoples’ awesome stories involving my novel. This was one of my favorites:

The Story

Halfway through the first event, I realized I wouldn’t have enough books for both days. It’s a good problem to have, but I panicked. Consequently, I reached out to my closest friends, saying “If you have a new/pristine novel, can I please have it?” Yes I was going to sell my friends’ books. Don’t judge. OK you can judge a little.

Anyway, one of my friends agreed and showed up to my second signing with his copy. Doing a quick quality inspection, I noticed a piece of tattered cloth sticking out of one of the pages.

“What’s this?” I flicked the cloth.

“My boyfriend is reading it and that’s his bookmark.”

Curious, I reached out and tugged the “bookmark”. It was like a foot long! And so janky!

I had to know more. Holding it up, I said, “What kind of bookmark is this??”

My friend shrugged. “Well, he was reading last night and didn’t have a bookmark. So he tore that and used it.”

“What?! Where did he tear it from?”

This was my friend’s response (wait for it): “From my grandmother’s quilt that was on the bed.”

That’s right. He tore Grammy’s quilt to use as a bookmark.

OMG!! DEAD!! That is so amazing and funny!! Hearing the story, I insisted on taking the piece of cloth (I’m keeping it forever!). And I immediately knew I’d do a blog post.

Why is that amazing and funny?

You shouldn’t even have to ask, but….

First off, to state the obvious, it’s Grandma’s quilt! I’d think that a receipt or pen or even another book (Using a book as a bookmark…how Inception!) had to have been around. But what did he do? He ripped off a piece of Granny’s heirloom that she made – with great love – for her grandson. Or maybe Granny herself used the quilt as a child and it saved her life during the great Mammoth ice age.

Second, and just as important, the bookmark nods to an entire post I wrote around this pic:

Talk about coming full circle And it proves my point about laziness.

Please don’t think I’m knocking the quilt bookmark. I love it! It’s so relatable. When you’re comfy in bed, getting up is the absolute worst. If Grandma herself were actually there, I’d cut off her hair to use as a bookmark if it meant not having to get up. Wait… If I did that, it would mean she was in bed with me. OK I’m retracting that statement and leaving. Good bye!

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5 Hardest Things About Writing a Sequel

I’d always assumed book 1 of a series would be, by far, the most difficult. Not only did I have to come up with the entire world of my characters, settings, etc…, I also had to decide exactly where to insert the reader. As I’ve mentioned before, I rewrote the entire beginning to The Gay Teen’s Guide to Defeating a Siren no less than 10 times. And I struggled with exactly how to handle that beginning.

Back when that was going on, I remember thinking, “I can’t wait for book 2. It will be like continuing from the first one. Easy Peasy.”

Ohhhhhh how foolish and naive a child of 37 I was.

While getting book 1 out was difficult, I’m learning that sequels present their own sets of challenges. And here they are (in order from easiest to most difficult):

5. Emotionally Connecting to Characters

Honestly, this one hasn’t been extraordinarily difficult. But it’s #5 on my list so it doesn’t have to be that hard yet.

That’s right.

And, easy or not, it’s extremely important to forge as strong (or stronger) a connection with your characters before beginning a sequel. The reader doesn’t want to feel as if they’re being ramped back up in to the characters. That’s going to happen with the plot, which is more than enough.

How did I reconnect with the characters?

Well, I think some of it is that they never left me. I get Blaize’s “essence” if that makes any sense. OMG that sounds so hokey and hippie that I’m shutting up about it now.

In a more tangible vein, I actually sat down and re-read the last few chapters of book 1 immediately before beginning book 2. It really helped a lot. Even though I knew what happened, re-reading clued me in on exactly where the characters’ emotional states ended so I knew where to pick back up.

4. Keeping Things the Same Yet Different

People like reading sequels because they (the people, not the sequel) are already invested. Those readers have a pre-existing connection with the characters and sense of nostalgia about the world. It’s important to maintain that and give the readers the feeling of “Ahhhhh, it’s so good to be back.”

However, the sequel also has to be drastically different in terms of the plot it delivers. I remember reading an article about how a sequel can’t just be a continuation of book 1. It has to provide a different experience. Otherwise readers get bored. That makes perfect sense.

Merging those two worlds can difficult. Where do you draw the line between fresh and nostalgic?

Fortunately, book 1 has always felt more like a prequel to me than an actual book 1. It’s definitely not, but that’s how I’ve viewed it from the beginning. I’ve always thought, “It’s what happens before everything happens.” Book 2 is where things will really explode. So I feel lucky in that, outlining book 2, I can already see it’s very very different in terms of experience. But the readers will still be taken back to Sanctuary, which establishes that nostalgia (I hope!).

(SIDE NOTE: I wasn’t going to include an image for this item until I saw that Same Yet Different is an actual board game! How badly does everyone wanna play it right now? I know I do!)

3. Thinking About Character Growth

I remember being seriously irked while reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I found that I didn’t like Harry near as much. He was annoying and temperamental. I can’t remember how many times I actually said, “OMG Just shut up!” – Yes I was very invested :). And I wanted Harry Potter from books 1-4. Then I realized he wasn’t a kid anymore; Harry was 15 and that’s how 15-year-olds can act.

I do think that the transition from “perfect Harry” to “teen Harry” was a bit sudden, but it’s clear Rowling was putting an effort into character growth.

Writing book 2, I can see how hard that is. I like Blaize and Molly the way they were in book 1. And it’s easier to write them that way.

But I can’t. Molly is 7 now and there’s a difference between 6 and 7 year-olds.

The same with 14 and 15 year-olds. Whoa. I just realized Blaize is Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix’s age right now. Do I have to make him annoying?

2. Dealing With Stupid Timelines

I started writing book 1 back in June of 2013. It went through multiple rewrites, edits, rewrites and all that fun stuff (including rewrites). The novel officially released on October of 2015. In case you’re bad at math, that’s almost two and a half years. In the grand scheme of things for first novels, that may not be considered too bad.

Unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury with the second book.

According to many sources, if the second book isn’t out within 1-1.5 years of the first, sales can be drastically reduced. Nobody likes waiting for sequels, and it makes sense that anticipation can dwindle as time goes on. I TOTALLY gave up reading the Wheel of Time series because I got so tired of waiting for book 3,387,925 to come out.

Sadly, that puts a lot of pressure on authors. And I naturally worry I may end up delivering something that doesn’t feel as solid. But there’s definitely a ticking clock in my head.

1. Eliminating Damn Plot Holes

With the first book, you’re establishing the world, characters, and initial conflict (go Oxford commas!). That gives the author a lot of leeway and flexibility in their writing. Honestly, things that could potentially be plot holes can be shrugged off with, “Eh, I’ll find a workaround in a later book.”

Well, this is the later book. And all those loose threads dangling in the first book not only have to be tied up, they have to match in terms of color and thickness… Is this a good analogy? I think I’ve already confused myself. What was I talking about again?

Anyway, there are things I left unexplored in book 1 that suddenly need exploring. And they have to be explored in a way where people aren’t left thinking “WTF”? My biggest fear in this entire trilogy is the idea of leaving a gaping plot hole. It’s actually something that’s kept me up at night. So it gets the pleasure of being #1 on my list. WHEEEEEE!

(SIDENOTE: This meme about Beauty and The Beast cracked me up! I’d never thought about that before.)

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Why I’d Rather Be a Muggle

I’ve said this a couple times before, but Harry Potter was a fairly significant inspiration for my book. Needless to say, I’ve read the series several times. And, like all HP lovers, I’ve got my own thoughts and opinions on different scenes/people.

This is one of them.

Reading the title of this post, Harry Potter fans out there are probably already scoffing. Who wouldn’t want to be a wizard? they’re thinking. You can make fire shoot out your wand (did that sound like a gonorrhea ad?). And, with just use a couple words, all your dishes get cleaned (Yes, of all the spells out there, that’s one I love most).

But, for as much as we dream about magic, the wizarding world kinda sucks in a lot of ways. So many in fact, that, given the choice, I think I’d choose to remain a muggle.

So get ready to make fun of this squib and read why it’s better to be a muggle than a witch/wizard:

Research

Remember the excruciating process of finding books from a card catalog? You’d go up to a litte box, pullout a rack of cards, then go searching thru them. And those only led you to a book that may or may not contain what you’re looking for (if it’s even there at all). I swear I spent more time looking for stupid books than doing actual research.

Guess what? In the wizarding world, that’s what you’re gonna do. All. The. Time.

Need info on a wrinkle-reducing potion? Gotta go find it in a book. Want to learn how to make robes self-pleated? Have fun searching the card catalog for that.

Although wizarding books are alive and cool-looking, they still suck. Finding anything on anything is about impossible. Despite his procrastination, Harry looked for hours and hours on how to breathe underwater. That seems like a pretty darn common magical thing and no one – not even brainiac Hermione – could discover how to do it promptly.

If Wizard Google existed, Harry could have looked it up the night before and received “4,038,200 results on ‘Breathing Underwater'”. And everyone would be making horcruxes because that info would be all over the Wizard Internet. Along with details on how to destroy them. Book 7 would have been about 50 pages if Wizard Google existed.

Technology

Witches and wizards have photographs that move. They look at pictures that animate and wink back at them. How exciting.

What do muggles have?

Netflix. Bam. Now that I think about it, I don’t ever remember a witch or wizard watching an entire movie. They can only, like, pull old spells out of their wands and view them. #boring

The wizarding world is also still totally reliant on paper. Instead of cranking out an essay in Word, imagine trying to scrawl out three feet of parchment. Ugh. And forget about spell check. The only thing wizards get is Fred and George’s Spell-Checking Quill and it’s gonna backfire, anyway.

Also, let’s talk about brooms and flying. It sounds great on paper but OMG it would get so cold up there. And you can’t listen to music or anything. Finally, let’s be honest here: 90% of us (myself included) would vomit and sob from vertigo. I mean, you’re basically sitting on a stick hundreds of feet in the air.

Give me a car or nice plane ride any day.

Communication

Wizard communication just sucks. You essentially have 2 means at your disposal:

1. Owls. Sure, owls are really cute. But they’re just glorified carrier pigeons. They look cool, but you still have to tie a piece of paper to their leg and wait days for a response. Then they poop all over the place. How many times did we have to read about Harry cleaning Hedwig’s cage? And you have to deal with moodiness. OMG Hedwig had to be placated sooooo many times just to make a delivery. Step it up, Hedwig! You have a freaking job to do!

2. Talking in fireplaces. This is basically the most non-subtle way to communicate… EVER. Want to have a secret conversation with your boyfriend/girlfriend? Not gonna happen. And you’re bound to the fireplace. That’s like having one of those old corded phones. You can’t wander the house talking to your friend. No, you have to sit there, burning up, in front of the fireplace while a floating head sits in the flames. I bet summertime conversations sucked. On top of that, you have to have a fireplace. Can you imagine all the lonely wizards and witches in Phoenix? They’re staring at air conditioning spells wishing their brother in New York could appear in the wand-generated freon.

Also imagine how much easier Harry’s life would have been if he and Sirius could have Face-timed? Or sent a text message? I’m just thinking about Goblet of Fire where Sirius hid and he and Harry communicated via owl like once every couple months. Imagine the time and headache that would have been saved if Harry’d received texts from Sirius’s anonymous phone.

In fact, Sirius would still be alive after book 5 if the wizarding world had muggle communication means:

Progress

Let’s take a look at the wizarding world 500 years ago. They used owls for letters. They used books for research. They had virtually all the same spells that exist today. And let’s look at the wizarding world now. They use owls for letters. They use books for research. They have virtually all the same spells that existed 500 years ago.

You can drop a wizard any time in the past thousand years and they’d fit right in.

Now let’s look at the muggle world 500 years ago. We traveled by horse. We entertained ourselves by throwing rocks. We pooped in buckets. And let’s look at now. We’re freaking flying and driving the world (and into space! I don’t think a wizard has ever been into space before. Why? Because it would take too long to research ‘how to breathe in space’.) We have computers and Internet and all sorts of amazing things. We can go in a toilet and it’s whisked away!

Magic has essentially crippled the wizarding world. It’s such a crutch for them that they refuse to see past their wands and progress.

In 500 years, wizards will still be tying notes to stupid birds while Muggles will send messages directly into each others’ brains.

In 500 years, wizards will still be splinching their arms and legs onto other peoples’ head during apparition while muggles will be teleporting all over the world.

In 500 years, muggles will be communicating to audiences via telepathy devices, while wizards will still use that sonorus spell. Which, let’s face it, is just a megaphone.

The post Why I’d Rather Be a Muggle appeared first on Wagner Writer.

Local Author a Hoarder Because Everything in House Blessed

Staring at rooms lined with seventeen years of junk, Phoenix author Cody Wagner explained that he can’t get rid of anything because it has all been blessed.

“My family is Catholic,” Wagner said, ” and when something is blessed, you can’t throw it away. You have to bury it or burn it. That’s impossible so, you know, I had to keep it.”

Wagner with one of his many blessed items.

Walking through the living room – climbing over relics, boxes, and assorted collectibles – Wagner began pointing out the sacred pieces he’s collected.

“See that statue of St. Dominic? Mom had that blessed at our church years ago. How do you bury a four-foot statue.” He then turned around and gestured at a corner. “And that’s my pile of broken scapulars.” He inched to the pile and picked up a giant handful of necklaces. “I’ve been wearing these since I was seven.” He held one up. “They’re held together with string so, yeah, they break a lot. Then what?”

According to some, anything touched by holy water is also considered blessed and, therefore, not eligible for the garbage.

“See those old Adidas?” Wagner said, pointing to a mound of shoes near the kitchen. “I accidentally dribbled holy water on them like ten years ago.” He paused before adding, “And those Nikes. And those British Knights. Yeah, those are old.”

Other items collected because of their contact with holy water included baseball caps – kept when Wagner missed his forehead while blessing himself – notebooks, pairs of glasses, and Transformers toys.

“I used to pretend Optimus Prime was a priest,” Wagner confessed. “Once, I grabbed Mom’s holy water and had him baptize Bumblebee. And Jazz. And Optimus re-baptized himself. Before I knew it…” At that Wagner gestured to a mountain of toys by the television. “Well, every Transformer is a baptized member of the church. Also my Thundercats, especially Lion-O. Big mistake.”

Wagner’s baptized Cabbage Patch dolls.

According to psychiatrist Mindy Hadley, Wagner is likely suffering from hoarding as a results of OCD.

“Victims sometimes suffer delusions brought on by the idea of discarding items,” Hadley said. “For example, patients may think a demon will snatch them if they trash belongings.”

Wagner vehemently disagrees with any hoarding diagnoses. “I really want to get rid of all this junk! Do you think I need four boxes of manuscripts because my sister had them blessed? No.”

Cody then pointed at two other boxes, claiming his mother had his short stories blessed for luck every time he entered a competition. “That’s not even how blessings work,” Wagner said, kicking a box. “But I’m stuck with them. God, I want to trash all this. You know, the floors are actually really nice. They’re dark hardwood. Or light wood. Or tile. Or whatever, they’re nice.”

As of press time, Wagner has built a bonfire in an attempt to burn items. However, after cremating three tubs of holy water, the fire is now blessed and Wagner is researching how to handle holy flames.

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8 More Weird Antique Mall Finds

About a year ago, I did a couple blog posts on weird things at antique malls. I figured it had run its course and I tried to move on.

Little did I know the antique mall wasn’t ready to let go of me. DUN DUN DUNNNNNN!

The other day, I went back for the first time in awhile. And I found so much more hideous joy! Don’t get me wrong: some stuff at the antique malls is insanely cool. I practically drooled over the old Super Nintendo games people sell. But some of the items…Wow! Let’s just say this. There’s an episode of Southpark where contestants play a game called “OOH, What the Hell is That?” That title is perfect for these finds:

1. Bouillon Cubes

Hmmmm…I don’t know about buying groceries at an antique mall. And look at the lid. First off, it looks kinda moldy. Second, and more importantly, it’s opened!! They’re not just bouillon cubes, they’re *used* bouillon cubes. If I’d received this at Halloween, someone’s house would have been egged.

2. Flasher Santa

Hey kids, wanna see what’s under Santa’s robe?

OK my mind is probably in the gutter as the artist had good intentions, thinking, “Now Santa’s robe captures the pure magic of Christmas.” But all I see is a Santa creeping on the children. Trust me, there are no cookies and milk under that robe. Don’t be fooled, kids! Run!

3. Dogs Wearing Glasses

I’m not sure what the fascination is with dogs and eyewear, but I found multiple figures of dogs in glasses. The last ones are my favorite as they actually grow out of the dog’s nose. That’s some painful body mod there, folks.

4. A Penthouse Jigsaw Puzzle

I don’t know… I think men are too impatient to have to assemble their own porn.

5. Janky Carousel

At first, I wasn’t sure if I was going to use this. On one hand, the carousel is mega janky. Look how the animals are broken and it’s just torn up. This thing is ratchet (did I use that properly?). On the other hand, it’s not necessarily funny or anything.

Then I saw the price:

Yes folks, that thing is $1500 dollars! I think I know what’s going on here. Some husband was like, “Sue, get rid of that thing!” Well, Sue loved her carousel and refused to part with it. So, she put it in the antique mall to appease her husband, but jacked the price up.

Smooth, Sue. Smooth.

6. Creepy Clown Santa

You know how kids are afraid of Santa? Want to know how to make Jolly Old Nick even more terrifying? Put him in freaky clown makeup and give him soulless eyes. They might as well make kids visit him alone in the dark. And put him on a chair made of skulls.

7. Wardrobe Malfunction Ursula

Nip Slip!

What worries me about this is it’s a children’s toy. Ursula is going to traumatize kids for generations to come. And not just because of her evil nature.

8. Female Shepherd

OK I don’t know what she’s holding, but it makes me feel weird. And look at her sheep! LOL! Judging from its expression, I’m now thinking it’s some kind of sheep prober. Get ready, Lambchop!

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A Look Back on 2015

I was sitting here writing a completely unrelated post when 2015 began swimming through my head. I’m so focused on everything that needs to be done (and the fact my writing “career” is still so fledgling) that it’s hard for me to take a step back.

But when I did, I heaved a big, “Wow.”

Wow. That’s all I can say about 2015.

Sooooo many things have happened, it feels like 5 years have passed in the last 365 days. It’s been one of the busiest, most eventful years of my life. And I wanted to take just a little time to pause and reflect before getting back to my silly ways.

Most importantly, it’s time to give thanks. And a majority of that thanks goes to you.

I couldn’t have accomplished any of what I did without so many wonderful people in my life. If it weren’t for my friends, family, readers, artists, strippers, etc… I wouldn’t be where I’m at. No way. I’d be cowered in fetal position under my bed.

Sure, I’m a newbie author who’s sold 9 books. And I still have a LOOOOONG way to go. But I want to be grateful right now for the things that *have* happened before I focus back on the things that still *need* to happen.

With that said, I wanted to share with everyone the amazing events of 2015 (and remember, it’s all thanks to you):

(SIDE NOTE: If you’d all play that “Time of Our Lives” song by Green Day in your head as you scroll, that would be great!)

1. I published my first book

2. I did lots of weird things with said book

3. I received my first book reviews

4. I wrote 50 blog posts for Wagner Writer

5. I wrote several guest posts for other bloggers

6. I appeared on my first podcast

7. I spoke at my first writers conference

8. I sang a LOT (and met some amazing people)

In Summary

To wrap things up, I just want to give another thanks to everyone for your support. And I wish you the most joyous of New Years and hope 2016 is wonderful for all.

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5 Most Bizarre Christmas Presents I’ve Ever Received

I was talking with a friend the other day about the Scorpion Underwear incident. If you’re scratching your head, check out another blog post dedicated to the experience.

As we were chatting, he said, “That’s gotta be the weirdest thing you ever got.”

Now that gave me pause (look at me writing all fancy). We spend tons of time thinking about the amazing gifts we receive (Hellooooo E-Z Bake Oven!). Well, I thought it was time to dedicated some time to share the worst things I’ve been given:

1. Scorpion undies!

I’m not going to go into this one as there’s an entire post dedicated to the scorpion undies, but it has to be on the list. Even if it wasn’t a Christmas present. No “bizarre gift” list will ever be complete without scorpion-iron-on-the-crotch underwear.

2. A container to hold weed…

I took acting lessons several years back from an amazing woman who was also a bit…well, if there’s a real-life version of Phoebe from Friends, it was this woman. She was zany and wacky and just kind of out there.

One day, just before Christmas, we were practicing a monologue when she stopped. “Before I forget, I got you a gift!”

I looked around as if she was talking to someone else. When I realized it was me, I then did the thing where I stared at my shoes all sheepish, thinking, Well this is awkward cuz I got you squat.

As I was mentally rummaging through my car to see if there might be a passable present inside (maybe an oil change receipt or windshield wiper blades?), she pulled out a small gift and handed it to me. I smiled graciously at her and tore it open.

Inside was a teensy tiny ceramic container with a lid. Let me tell you, this thing was small. I opened the lid and looked inside, thinking, I couldn’t even put cough drops in here. Why cough drops? I have no idea. My mind just went there.

Anyway, after many confused seconds, I realized I was being rude. Blushing, I looked back at my teacher. “This is…really…yeah. This is neat! Sorry, I’m just trying to think of all the things I can store in here!”

She smiled. “I just figured, knowing you, you’d really use it.”

I had zero idea what she meant but said, “Totally!” Then we got back to work.

Later, I was showing the container to a more worldly friend. The second he saw it, he busted out laughing. “Dude, you store pot in that!”

“WHAT!?”

“Yes. It’s for pot.”

That immediately made me think back to her saying, Knowing you, you’d really use it. For some reason, my acting teacher thought I was a pot head???

I have absolutely NO idea where she got that from. I don’t judge pot smokers at all. But, other than a time in college, I’ve never smoked. Hell, I’ve never even smoked cigarettes.

Like I said, she was definitely a Phoebe. Or maybe a Phoebo. Or a Regina Phalange.

3. A used (and broken) candle in a used (and torn) gift bag.

I threw a Christmas party several years ago. There was a “no gifts, please” rule to the party (it was for getting together, not receiving gifts). However, a few people brought stuff, anyway. I didn’t want to make the party about gifts, so I was going to put them away until everyone left. Then people started insisting that I open them in front of everyone.

Obliging, I sat down and pulled the gifts closer. Most of them escape my memory, but I think I received a t-shirt and some wine. Finally, I reached the last package, a gift bag, and lifted it up. Suddenly, the item inside dumped out onto the table. I chirped in surprise, thinking I’d done something wrong. A few people snickered. Confused, I turned the bag over. The thing had a huge tear in the bottom. Not only that, someone’s name had been written and scratched out – right on the side of the bag!

Not wanting to embarrass anyone, I mumbled, “Sorry! I accidentally ripped it!” Then, trying to divert everyone’s attention from the shredded bag, I grabbed for the present. It was a candle. Much better! Smiling, I said, “Yum!” and leaned forward to smell it. That’s when I noticed the wick was black! Someone had already burned it! Tilting it back, I also saw a crack in the glass.

In hindsight, I’m trying to think what went through the giver’s head putting that together. Was he like, “He’ll never notice the torn bag or the half-used product!”

4. A plastic pigeon.

My brother-in-law is a game warden and hunter. I’m not sure which part (wardening or hunting) this had to do with, but I opened the following one Christmas:

5. A half-eaten box of Frosted Mini-Wheats.

Our Grandmother always sent us massive boxes for Christmas. They were filled with random delights: clothes, toys she thought we’d like, and things for Mom. We soon realized she also used the box to get rid of items she didn’t want anymore.

One year when “The Box” arrived, we all gathered around, excited. Mom sliced the tape and threw open the lid. A couple of Mr. Potato Heads sat on top. Cool! Around them were shoe boxes. Cool! And under that were some boxes of cereal.

Less cool…

Mom frowned and pulled one out. Frosted Mini-Wheats.

“Grammy got us cereal?” I asked, grabbing for the box.

Mom stifled a laugh. “Well, she knows you kids eat a ton.”

“Oh.” I turned the box around to see the back when it turned over. Cereal fell out all over the floor.

My sister jumped back, shrieking. “It’s already open!”

Yep, it had been opened. We’d received a box of used cereal.

And not only was it open, it was full of boll weevils. We didn’t realize that until they infested our cupboards and we had to throw everything away.

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Phoenix Man Still Kinda Believes Mom’s Santa Sighting

To keep the magic of the season alive, many parents make up stories about Santa encounters. These tales range from elf sightings to full-blown meetings with Saint Nicolas himself.

40-year-old Phoenix resident Cody Wagner still kind of believes his mother’s story.

“Mom insisted she heard a jingling outside on Christmas Eve,” Wagner said. “She was probably six or seven. She flew up as the tinkling got louder.” Wagner’s eyes lit up as he continued, “She said it was definitely jingle bells! So she scooted to her bedroom window and peeked out. She says she actually saw reindeer flying by!”

While he went on to say, “Naturally, she made it up,” Wagner proceed to shrug and add, “On the other hand, she was never one to fib.”

Cody’s siblings disagree.

“Mom used to run outside when the phone rang,” Wagner’s sister, Mindy, said. “She’d announce, ‘Tell them I’m not home!'” Mindy shook her head. “We’d accuse her of lying, but she’d always say, ‘Well, technically I’m not in the house so I’m not home.'” After rolling her eyes, Mindy added, “Besides, Cody believed in Santa until he was, like, fifteen. Or maybe he still does! I mean, that’s not normal, right?”

Although Cody insisted over and over the story is make believe, Mindy pointed out he deliberately situates his bed by the window. “His bedroom looks awful!” she said. “The window’s right in the middle of the wall and the headboard’s supposed to be against it. Cody has his bed moved down where his pillow practically rests against the window. He doesn’t want to miss any Santa sightings.” Mindy pointed outside. “It’s July, for freak’s sake!”

Cody stated the reason for his bed’s positioning is he likes the sun’s rays to wake him in the morning. “And…I don’t know…Sometimes I hear things.” When asked to clarify, Cody looked around before muttering, “Just noises. Like the other night, I thought I heard some kind of something. Maybe music or something or…I don’t know…bells. Just out of curiosity, I sat up, threw open my sash – I mean my blinds – and peeked out.” Cody shifted in his seat. “Turns out it was the neighbor’s lawnmower.”

When asked if he still believed in Santa, Cody shook his head. “No way! I mean, not the Santa you hear or read about. You know, with the North Pole and the toys and the reindeer. Santa is about a spirit or feeling…although Mom did swear she saw icicles on the reindeer’s hooves that night, so who knows about the North Pole.”

Following the interview, Cody stared at an Elf on the Shelf for two hours. “I know it’s not gonna move,” he said. “Well, I mean not in the way we think it will. Or whatever.”

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