William Amerman's Blog, page 7
February 29, 2012
Results of Free
Managed to give away 584 copies of Aries at Dawn. That probably makes 580 people who downloaded it to stockpile it for a rainy day, 2 readers who downloaded it by hitting the wrong button, and 2 readers who are probably in process reading it now. Am I too pessimistic? Or too optimistic?
Either way, it's had a wonderful effect on writing motivation for my current books. A free giveaway on Amazon is much different than when I did it on Smashwords. Amazon seems to have SO many more readers and potential readers.
I'm not really expecting much in the way of increased Sales of the Aries book, but hey, hopefully a lot more readers, maybe some reviews, etc. All in all, good experience. Even managed to move to #411 in all Amazon free books last night.
Either way, it's had a wonderful effect on writing motivation for my current books. A free giveaway on Amazon is much different than when I did it on Smashwords. Amazon seems to have SO many more readers and potential readers.
I'm not really expecting much in the way of increased Sales of the Aries book, but hey, hopefully a lot more readers, maybe some reviews, etc. All in all, good experience. Even managed to move to #411 in all Amazon free books last night.
February 28, 2012
Aries at Dawn free on Amazon for one day
I've put my novel, Aries at Dawn, for sale at the low, low price of nothing on Amazon for a day. Already, hundreds of "sales" so get it while you can because at this price it won't last long. Ah, well, yes I guess it will. The beauty of bits and bytes, eh?!
http://www.amazon.com/Aries-at-Dawn-e...
http://www.amazon.com/Aries-at-Dawn-e...
February 26, 2012
Lazy Sundays and a coffee confession
Cruising the internet this morning, coffee almost fully consumed, fighting back a foggy hangover for a bit. Feel compelled to share a shocking secret with you. See, when I measure the water for the coffee in the morning, I know that if I run it up to the 6 cup mark, I'll have enough for two large cups, but then a little left over in the pot. I end up throwing away this left over portion every day. Why do I do this? Is it wasteful? Why don't I fill the pot just under the 6 cup mark so I know I won't have any left over coffee to discard? I think there is some part of me that likes to view this left over portion as some sort of reserve, to be discarded most of the time, but to be used in time of great need. Like this morning. When I felt the hangover returning I hustled back out to the pot, dumped the rest in my cup and sloshed in a healthy amount of whole milk and sugar on top.
Wow, I don't believe I've ever written such a self-involved blog entry. Is this what you're supposed to do with your blog? Treat it as an extension of that crazy, rattling part of your mind where ideas bounce around freely, never being required to move through any filters? Is there some analogy I could draw between that and coffee and the water that could be saved if I only would measure less than 6 cups?
Fascinating, in the most sarcastic sense possible.
Wow, I don't believe I've ever written such a self-involved blog entry. Is this what you're supposed to do with your blog? Treat it as an extension of that crazy, rattling part of your mind where ideas bounce around freely, never being required to move through any filters? Is there some analogy I could draw between that and coffee and the water that could be saved if I only would measure less than 6 cups?
Fascinating, in the most sarcastic sense possible.
February 22, 2012
Will of the masses vs. media reality
I don't get it, every time I read some sensationalized CNN headline like "Opinion: don't spy on Muslim students," the comments of the author invariably invoke the rationality and obviousness of his/her position. It is made to seem as if any other point of view would not only be wrong, but illogical. By the time I get to the end of the article, I'm left thinking that, well, I guess this guy is speaking for a majority of Americans and I better consider myself outside this mainstream if I have alternative perspectives.
Then I get to the comments, and it's about 95% of the comments agreeing with me and 5% disagreeing. This could be on almost any controversial topic. Terrorists. Gun Control. Gay Marriage--well, that's more mixed and I can't say I really have an opinion there other than I've decided, wholeheartedly, that it's not for me!
Ok. That's all. It just struck me that I wonder if all these major news media outlets, FoxNews included, understand that their points of view are so markedly out of line with real people.
Then I get to the comments, and it's about 95% of the comments agreeing with me and 5% disagreeing. This could be on almost any controversial topic. Terrorists. Gun Control. Gay Marriage--well, that's more mixed and I can't say I really have an opinion there other than I've decided, wholeheartedly, that it's not for me!
Ok. That's all. It just struck me that I wonder if all these major news media outlets, FoxNews included, understand that their points of view are so markedly out of line with real people.
February 14, 2012
A new year and the serendipity of spam
Happy 2012. Thank you, Goodreads, for the spam in my inbox today that reminded me I'm supposed to be an author. I guess I can't call it spam, though, if I consider it useful? Yes, oh automated email program, you inspired me to 135 new words on the book this morning and then to check stats and leave this little update. Perhaps I should play less golf and write more? Would I then be able to finish a book in less than 10 years? Sounds intriguing, and tiring, just thinking about it.
August 11, 2011
Back from Vegas
Back from a conference in Vegas. It is hot in Vegas. Very, very hot. Especially, when trying to "network" with folks out on the Bali Hai golf course whilest the Southwest 777 jets go screaming 75 feet over the fairways. Great trip and actually came out $25 ahead due to a very nice Malaysian blackjack dealer who seemed to have an eye on one of my colleagues.
July 14, 2011
The Fountain - part 2
Ah, now I sort of get it after finishing the movie last night. Beautiful imagery. Extremely hard to follow plot that exposes itself more the less you try to understand it. And to be honest about it, I only understand as much as I think I do from reading the reviews after I finished the movie. There were indeed three separate time periods spanning 1,000 years, but the bubble in space was just the third time period. The man and woman were like Adam and Eve and the tree was the tree of life, which the guy kept nibbling on in the bubble. But then it dies as they get closer to the dying star at the center of the nebula and, well, I kind of lost the plotline there. Which is ok. Because it's still a moving movie, just not one of those where you find out the Butler did it with the candlestick in the study and all loose ends are neatly tied off.
After finishing this one, moved on to a time travel movie called 11. Great little indie movie about a guy who travels back 48 years or so, 8 or 9 times, to the same wedding party. He can only stay 11 minutes at a time (how did they ever come up with the name of the movie?!) but it takes him months to reset his equipment in his own time to return. Which is an interesting concept. Because he falls in love with one of the bridesmaids (who hasn't?), thinking about her in the months and years that he is resetting his equipment in his own time.
It causes him to inject so much seriousness and passion into the 11 minutes that he's able to see her every few months, contrasting with her perspective, which is some guy keeps hitting on her within the space of an hour.
The ending is subtle but brilliant and I won't give it away. God, I'm turning from writer to movie reviewer. So much easier to sit back after a hard day's work with a cold Guinness and enjoy a movie than it is to awaken at 6am, shuffle out for some coffee and stare at a screen full of story that I may or may not be in love with, depending on my mood of the day.
After finishing this one, moved on to a time travel movie called 11. Great little indie movie about a guy who travels back 48 years or so, 8 or 9 times, to the same wedding party. He can only stay 11 minutes at a time (how did they ever come up with the name of the movie?!) but it takes him months to reset his equipment in his own time to return. Which is an interesting concept. Because he falls in love with one of the bridesmaids (who hasn't?), thinking about her in the months and years that he is resetting his equipment in his own time.
It causes him to inject so much seriousness and passion into the 11 minutes that he's able to see her every few months, contrasting with her perspective, which is some guy keeps hitting on her within the space of an hour.
The ending is subtle but brilliant and I won't give it away. God, I'm turning from writer to movie reviewer. So much easier to sit back after a hard day's work with a cold Guinness and enjoy a movie than it is to awaken at 6am, shuffle out for some coffee and stare at a screen full of story that I may or may not be in love with, depending on my mood of the day.
July 13, 2011
The Fountain and 1,000 years of cozy togethnerss in a bubble floating in space
In anticipation of Netflix jacking my monthly fees, I'm devouring as much of their stream-now offerings as possible. Ran across The Fountain and am halfway through it. The story takes place over 1,000 years and seems to be about a guy and a girl who live together (maybe their souls live together?) in a bubble floating through space. The bubble has a tree, a stream, some rocks and looks kind of like a spot on the back of one of my high school friend's farms. I'm not through enough of the film to understand entirely the parameters of their existence, but they seem to fade in and out of real life, occupying different personas, but always in a way that they are connected.
This all sparked the thought. If you could choose one person to spend the next 1,000 years locked in a bubble floating through space, maybe with random visits back down to earth, but maybe not, who would you choose? Spouse? Mother? Father? Son/Daughter?
This all sparked the thought. If you could choose one person to spend the next 1,000 years locked in a bubble floating through space, maybe with random visits back down to earth, but maybe not, who would you choose? Spouse? Mother? Father? Son/Daughter?
July 7, 2011
Casey Anthony
I don't know what it is about the way I'm wired, but ever since having my first son 11 years ago, I can't stand to read, watch or hear anything having to do with the abuse of children. I'll even admit to moist eyes while driving, listening to a traffic report describing any accidents involving kids. I do, however, like my news. So when I trot on over to cnn or msnbc or foxnews, I'm regularly forced to skip over the most appalling headlines.
Which brings me to today and the subject line of this blog post. I've written this woman's name once, in the title, but can't bring myself to type it again. I also can't weigh in with thoughts on a fair or unfair verdict, or the imminent downfall of our "Mickey Mouse" justice system as I heard it called yesterday. I am, instead, merely going to state my disgust at our "news" media's focus on profit and the American people's obsession with the exploitation of the misfortune of children that makes it profitable for news media to throw it in my face day after day.
www.bbc.co.uk and telegraaf.nl (for those who read Dutch) are getting more and more of my time.
Which brings me to today and the subject line of this blog post. I've written this woman's name once, in the title, but can't bring myself to type it again. I also can't weigh in with thoughts on a fair or unfair verdict, or the imminent downfall of our "Mickey Mouse" justice system as I heard it called yesterday. I am, instead, merely going to state my disgust at our "news" media's focus on profit and the American people's obsession with the exploitation of the misfortune of children that makes it profitable for news media to throw it in my face day after day.
www.bbc.co.uk and telegraaf.nl (for those who read Dutch) are getting more and more of my time.
July 5, 2011
Golf, Fireworks, an unfortunate neighbor
So what do golf, fireworks, and an unfortunate neighbor have in common? Well, after the lunch/pool phase of our traditional 4th of July events, as detailed in a previous blog post, we loaded up the coolers, chairs and sporting equipment to take out to the cul-de-sac to prepare for the evening festivities.
On the way, some of the boys asked to light off small fireworks; smokebombs, eyeballs, spinners, etc. I agreed and while watching them ignite a few in the street, began pondering what seemed a very weighty question: would a smokebomb hold together when struck with a golf club--namely my pitching wedge--or would it explode into fragments? Lubricated by enough adult beverages to make finding the answer to this question a top priority, I retrieved my pitching wedge from the trunk of the car, put on my wife's huge wraparound Justin Bieber sunglasses for eye protection (safety first, of course) and dropped an unlit smokebomb onto the grass.
After advising the kids to "stand back while Dad demonstrates some serious science," I took a 1/4 swing and slapped the inert smokebomb maybe 30 yards down the middle of the street towards the cul-de-sac. It kept its form nicely, rolling and tumbling down the street. Emboldened by these promising results, I yelled down to my neighbor, Mark, who was prepping his driveway for the bbq some 90 yards down the street, in the heart of the cul-de-sac to "watch this!"
I teed up a new smokebomb and had my oldest son light the fuse. Resisting the urge to swing right away, I waited until the fuse had burned right down into the core of the smokebomb, then executed a full swing with a nice low finish. The smokebomb shot out into the air, right down the middle of the street, maybe 40 yards high but arcing for full long 90 yard smokebomb PW distance.
I must have struck it with a slight draw because it began curling in the air to the left on a vector towards where Mark was standing, hand shading his eyes, squinting into the setting sun, a classic "I lost it in the glare" quizzical look on his face. I shouted a warning but it came too late. The blue smokebomb hit him in the bicep, singing hair, ricocheting back into the street to the shock, awe and delight of all the children. I called out, shakily asking if he was ok, but he refused to answer, head down and a look of restrained anger in his footsteps.
The best part? For some reason I had my middle son filming. Here's a link to the video I just posted on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jOWFB2...
On the way, some of the boys asked to light off small fireworks; smokebombs, eyeballs, spinners, etc. I agreed and while watching them ignite a few in the street, began pondering what seemed a very weighty question: would a smokebomb hold together when struck with a golf club--namely my pitching wedge--or would it explode into fragments? Lubricated by enough adult beverages to make finding the answer to this question a top priority, I retrieved my pitching wedge from the trunk of the car, put on my wife's huge wraparound Justin Bieber sunglasses for eye protection (safety first, of course) and dropped an unlit smokebomb onto the grass.
After advising the kids to "stand back while Dad demonstrates some serious science," I took a 1/4 swing and slapped the inert smokebomb maybe 30 yards down the middle of the street towards the cul-de-sac. It kept its form nicely, rolling and tumbling down the street. Emboldened by these promising results, I yelled down to my neighbor, Mark, who was prepping his driveway for the bbq some 90 yards down the street, in the heart of the cul-de-sac to "watch this!"
I teed up a new smokebomb and had my oldest son light the fuse. Resisting the urge to swing right away, I waited until the fuse had burned right down into the core of the smokebomb, then executed a full swing with a nice low finish. The smokebomb shot out into the air, right down the middle of the street, maybe 40 yards high but arcing for full long 90 yard smokebomb PW distance.
I must have struck it with a slight draw because it began curling in the air to the left on a vector towards where Mark was standing, hand shading his eyes, squinting into the setting sun, a classic "I lost it in the glare" quizzical look on his face. I shouted a warning but it came too late. The blue smokebomb hit him in the bicep, singing hair, ricocheting back into the street to the shock, awe and delight of all the children. I called out, shakily asking if he was ok, but he refused to answer, head down and a look of restrained anger in his footsteps.
The best part? For some reason I had my middle son filming. Here's a link to the video I just posted on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jOWFB2...
