William Amerman's Blog
December 26, 2017
Has it really been a year?
My oh my how time moves across these mortal bones. Eras and epochs. Sand blown by sea wind covers footprints washed away by waves born off the coast of Argentina.
Christmas was yesterday. Wonderful but sonless, a "compromise" reached months ago. Okay. Why the long absence? The decommitment to writing was profound, impacting everything except necessary work emails. Oh, and journal entries.
A lot has changed in over a year, but the baseline of happiness remains the same. Met Happy's sisterly side yesterday evening for the first time and had one of the most wonderful, chaotic, good-food filled Christmas evenings in recent memory. As I get back into the swing of blog entries (and that rerererewrite of the 4th book in the Sky series which I have promised and double promised to the editor by March 1st come high water or toppled trees), I will endeavor to move from such obtuse updates, to more concrete news.
For now, the 8th and 9th and 10th episode of Ozark remain for my Sweety and me on this post Christmas Netflix binge.
Christmas was yesterday. Wonderful but sonless, a "compromise" reached months ago. Okay. Why the long absence? The decommitment to writing was profound, impacting everything except necessary work emails. Oh, and journal entries.
A lot has changed in over a year, but the baseline of happiness remains the same. Met Happy's sisterly side yesterday evening for the first time and had one of the most wonderful, chaotic, good-food filled Christmas evenings in recent memory. As I get back into the swing of blog entries (and that rerererewrite of the 4th book in the Sky series which I have promised and double promised to the editor by March 1st come high water or toppled trees), I will endeavor to move from such obtuse updates, to more concrete news.
For now, the 8th and 9th and 10th episode of Ozark remain for my Sweety and me on this post Christmas Netflix binge.
August 27, 2016
W is for happy
Interesting notion, happiness. How many states of emotion are represented by that one word? The happiness of looking forward to a long vacation? The happiness of seeing one of your children achieve something of significance? The happiness of mastering something after working hard at it for a long time?
The happiness of seeing vengeance wrought upon those who deserve it? Hmmm, we veer away from the traditional definition there.
How about taking a wide-angle view of one's own life, accepting the blips of negativity and embracing the blessings of so many things, so much beautiful reaping of what I have carefully sown, and wishing there was some multiplier of time that would have the seconds be days?
Ha. Of course as I write all this, something comes up causing me to use my Dad voice so loud the house still reverberates. Such is life. Wide-angle view. Big picture. Ha.
The happiness of seeing vengeance wrought upon those who deserve it? Hmmm, we veer away from the traditional definition there.
How about taking a wide-angle view of one's own life, accepting the blips of negativity and embracing the blessings of so many things, so much beautiful reaping of what I have carefully sown, and wishing there was some multiplier of time that would have the seconds be days?
Ha. Of course as I write all this, something comes up causing me to use my Dad voice so loud the house still reverberates. Such is life. Wide-angle view. Big picture. Ha.
July 16, 2016
Costa Rica
What a country. The people are friendly and the country is jaw-droppingly gorgeous. We started 12 days ago on the Caribbean side down near Puerto Viejo. The seven hour drive from San Jose airport (after taking a red eye that connected through Houston) was a bit taxing, but took us up into the clouds with scenic jungle mountain views, and then down to flatter terrain which was beautiful, but had me chugging coke to stay awake.
The house in Playa Chiquita was marvelous, maybe 50 yards from the beach. We sat out on the deck in the evenings, watching the monkeys play in the trees and the parrots squawk at each other. In the mornings, there was writing, killing kitchen-invading ants, and prepping for typical jungle-beach fun.
Alas, all the snorkeling gear and spear gun went to waste. However, 4-6 foot waves and an amazing, almost private beach made up for it. Although, I'm still typing with sea anemone stingers in three fingers of my right hand; the result of a vicious rip current that whisked the youngest boy powerfully to the right, threatening to pull him under a dead reef less than ten minutes after we first waded into the ocean. Myself and oldest boy went after him, trying to lift him onto the reef while the current tried to suck both of us either under the reef or out to sea. I'll never forget seeing my oldest drop completely underwater as he lifted the youngest up to safety on top of the reef. His head disappeared under a wave and my heart was hammering through my chest. He came back up, though, and we finally got him up, too. Then we were faced with the question of how to get back to the beach without risking the current again.
Lots of things live on top of dead reefs in the ocean. Things with stingers. But forced to choose between being whisked out to sea vs. slamming one's hands on top of some stingy-smushy things, survival won out. Walking barefoot across a dead reef, though, while almost hyperventilating from the thought that you've almost just lost two of your children to the sea, is not an activity I recommend for enjoyment.
Ok. This isn't intended to be a complete retelling of what feels like a years-long sojourn to a fabulous Central American country (with bland food and horrifically bland beer but GREAT surfing). Just a few notes to give a breather from the rewrite of Sky 4 while I sit at the dining room table on the 7th floor of Diamante del Sol in Jaco, watching a storm wash in from the sea from the amazing wrap-around full-wall windows that make up two of the four walls of this room, waiting for kiddies to wake up so that we can go play again.
The house in Playa Chiquita was marvelous, maybe 50 yards from the beach. We sat out on the deck in the evenings, watching the monkeys play in the trees and the parrots squawk at each other. In the mornings, there was writing, killing kitchen-invading ants, and prepping for typical jungle-beach fun.
Alas, all the snorkeling gear and spear gun went to waste. However, 4-6 foot waves and an amazing, almost private beach made up for it. Although, I'm still typing with sea anemone stingers in three fingers of my right hand; the result of a vicious rip current that whisked the youngest boy powerfully to the right, threatening to pull him under a dead reef less than ten minutes after we first waded into the ocean. Myself and oldest boy went after him, trying to lift him onto the reef while the current tried to suck both of us either under the reef or out to sea. I'll never forget seeing my oldest drop completely underwater as he lifted the youngest up to safety on top of the reef. His head disappeared under a wave and my heart was hammering through my chest. He came back up, though, and we finally got him up, too. Then we were faced with the question of how to get back to the beach without risking the current again.
Lots of things live on top of dead reefs in the ocean. Things with stingers. But forced to choose between being whisked out to sea vs. slamming one's hands on top of some stingy-smushy things, survival won out. Walking barefoot across a dead reef, though, while almost hyperventilating from the thought that you've almost just lost two of your children to the sea, is not an activity I recommend for enjoyment.
Ok. This isn't intended to be a complete retelling of what feels like a years-long sojourn to a fabulous Central American country (with bland food and horrifically bland beer but GREAT surfing). Just a few notes to give a breather from the rewrite of Sky 4 while I sit at the dining room table on the 7th floor of Diamante del Sol in Jaco, watching a storm wash in from the sea from the amazing wrap-around full-wall windows that make up two of the four walls of this room, waiting for kiddies to wake up so that we can go play again.
June 30, 2016
April 9, 2016
Taxes
While running the initial numbers through turbotax to determine an estimate of the amount the government will steal from me this year, I realize that not nearly enough negativity has been expressed about taxes through the years. And there's been a lot expressed.
All those overlapping and repetitive government agencies? If there's anyone up for getting rid of those, I'll vote for you in a second.
All those overlapping and repetitive government agencies? If there's anyone up for getting rid of those, I'll vote for you in a second.
February 17, 2016
The luxury of time
Time. The only true currency. At least as far as this period of existence is concerned. What a joy to be able to noodle through planning the next book. No deadline. No daily word quota to hit.
Granted, surveying a bountiful plain of endless story and character possibilities has its daunting moments. But for now, as the first tender shoots of framework rise, perfection is possible. Nothing is written. Nothing is finalized. Even though the shimmering mirage of perfection dots the sky-land boundary, always the same distance away no matter how hard I run at it, I've built nothing that blocks its view.
What a wonderful period. Coupled with the annual post-Super bowl month of temperance, a golf swing that is closer to on-plane than any we've ever fielded, this promises to be a pretty darn nice next sixty days.
Granted, surveying a bountiful plain of endless story and character possibilities has its daunting moments. But for now, as the first tender shoots of framework rise, perfection is possible. Nothing is written. Nothing is finalized. Even though the shimmering mirage of perfection dots the sky-land boundary, always the same distance away no matter how hard I run at it, I've built nothing that blocks its view.
What a wonderful period. Coupled with the annual post-Super bowl month of temperance, a golf swing that is closer to on-plane than any we've ever fielded, this promises to be a pretty darn nice next sixty days.
February 11, 2016
Gravity
Gives off waves. Wow. And angular momentum is radiated away by gravitational waves, causing the earth to slip slightly closer to the sun every year. Astonishing. There's a good book in there, I think.
January 27, 2016
Final Push
Only 172,000 words on the book and we are finally on the final chapter. Yeah, you'd think "oops, he mistakenly added a "1" at the front of that number. Holy Hell who writes a book that long? What kind of masochistic idiot would do that? Golly, I don't know WHY I can't finish the thing? Ok. Neal Stephenson dabbles in the 10-pounder book class. But I'm pretty sure he doesn't have another job other than writing because he manages quantity AND quality, a thing lacking in these final chapters as we just, for the love of all that is Holy, try to finish this thing off to get it to the editor in a week.
Which, yes, leaves maybe 5 days to edit a book that has four huge major plot-lines and ....no time to blog. Back to the fire.
Which, yes, leaves maybe 5 days to edit a book that has four huge major plot-lines and ....no time to blog. Back to the fire.
January 4, 2016
Monday you gloomy besat
I left the misspelling of beast on purpose because it tickled me, like a finger in the eye of Monday. Which can't be a good sign on the first day back at "real" work in over two weeks, eh?
Rain. Wind. Monday. Work.
Sky4 pre-draft 1 is up to a hefty 142,000 words, proving that the holidays is rife with bloat all around. And that sucker's not done. The climax is within sight. The characters are assembled in their places with proper (reasonable) motivations. But I've promised my editor something around 115k words. Due date is January 29th. Fabulous progress was made during the PTO time from "real" work, but a last final push is needed to finish the first draft by this Saturday and then, now that we're done with the "binge" part of the book, get to the "purge" part. I apologize if binge and purge are trigger words to anyone reading this. I'm in a funny Monday mood.
Rain. Wind. Monday. Work.
Sky4 pre-draft 1 is up to a hefty 142,000 words, proving that the holidays is rife with bloat all around. And that sucker's not done. The climax is within sight. The characters are assembled in their places with proper (reasonable) motivations. But I've promised my editor something around 115k words. Due date is January 29th. Fabulous progress was made during the PTO time from "real" work, but a last final push is needed to finish the first draft by this Saturday and then, now that we're done with the "binge" part of the book, get to the "purge" part. I apologize if binge and purge are trigger words to anyone reading this. I'm in a funny Monday mood.
January 1, 2016
Howey perhaps I was wrong
Just finished The Shell Collector. Hmmm. Double hmmm. Due to my past near-worshipful jottings on how appealing I find Mr. Howey's writing, I think I'm going to leave it at I don't think I'm part of the target audience for that book. I won't rate it because I think I see what he was trying to do and I'm not qualified to tell if he's pulled it off or not.
Yes. I think it was targeted toward a more female audience. Which is fine and good and there are more female readers than male so it certainly makes economic sense. So. Good luck sir!
Yes. I think it was targeted toward a more female audience. Which is fine and good and there are more female readers than male so it certainly makes economic sense. So. Good luck sir!
