C.S. Daley's Blog, page 6

I Have A Book Issue… Maybe… Sort Of… Nah

The first step to fixing a problem is admitting there is one in the first place. I have a book issue. I can’t stop buying them. My house is filled with them. I have cases and cases of autographed books. I have probably a hundred books on my Kindle waiting to be read. Everytime a book by an author I like goes on sale, I buy it. I have bought whole series by authors because they went on sale and I quickly read the first book and then bought the rest. I have hundreds of unread books in my house. I joke with my wife that I am saving for retirement.

This year I got an increased classroom budget because they switched me to the Jr. High. I spent every last dollar on books for my classroom. Plus, some of my own money. I claimed it was because I really want to put the best books in my students hands but really I just wanted to read them also. My addiction runs deep.

My book addiction started young. I would spend hours in the library. On those rare times I could afford to buy my own books I cherished them. I loved to stay up all night reading them. My nose was always in a book. I am not one of those people who cares about the physical property of a book either. I don’t care how it looks, or feels, or smells (unless the book was specifically designed to elicit some reaction in those senses).

It has always been about the words. Those beautiful magical letters that bounce around in my head forming images and worlds. I don’t care how they get there just that they do. I read a lot. Even with all the books I haven’t read in my collection I only have a back log of two years if I stopped buying them tomorrow. I am going to read about 130 books this year. A few years ago I read 150.

So there it is. I have a large book issue, addiction, love. The first step is admiting the problem. So here we go….I have no problem. I am totally cool with it. My addiction runs deep and I plan to feed the beast every chance I get. What’s more I plan to spread my addiction to every student I possibly can. You can’t stop me. Hello, my name is Christopher and I have a great book to recommend to you.

I Work For Free…..Sometimes

The new school year has kicked into high gear and I am loving my new job as a media arts/creative writing teacher. It has however left me extremely busy and tired. I am getting behind on my editing, writing, reading, talking to friends, knowing what the hell is going on in the world. So basically, I am behind on everything.

I guess sometime in this last week Amanda Palmer pissed off a bunch of people again. She has mad skills in the piss off department. I am so a part of her tribe. If I haven’t pissed off someone during the week (by someone I mean another teacher) than I am not doing my job. It seems Amanda asked for professional-ish musicians to come and play on her current tour. They were to be paid in hugs and beer. This apparently annoyed people and the outcry to not work for free has rung out in the night.

From what I can tell one of the driving forces behind the outcry was that she raised a million bucks on her Kickstarter and therefore should have the money to pay musicians. Most of the people who were really pissed didn’t even bother to see how much of the Kickstarter money was actually staying in her pocket. It became very black and white. She should pay and anyone who volunteers to work for free was doing a giant disservice to all musicians.

Here’s the thing though. I work for free all the time. I work well past my contract hours. I spend thousands of my own dollars on my classroom. I sometimes write for people’s website. I have given away both of my first two novels on Amazon. I have recently been asked to review some books for a few publishers. I have edited friends novels. These are all choices I make and it is no one’s business to tell me otherwise. It’s ridiculous to think that everyone should see the world the way you do. If I could play an instrument I would totally volunteer to play in Amanda’s show. That would be my choice.

This doesn’t mean I expect everything to be free. I charge for my books. I have been paid to work for websites (sometimes that pay is bartered for services in return). At school I take on the extra duty of being the teacher in charge. A duty I said I wouldn’t do this year if they didn’t pay me more. For reasons beyond my comprehension they thought I was worth it and doubled my stipend (pissed me off because I was not prepared for them to call my bluff).

In my school district we pay a lot of money to a technology specialist. I am always pissing teachers off when I won’t help them with their tech issues because this is an area I won’t work for free. Again my choice and the rule isn’t hard and fast. If you are a friend of mine than I will help you because I help my friends (plus, I don’t have many teacher friends so it doesn’t suck a lot of time away).

Ultimately, I do understand why musicians would never work for free. I respect their decision and would never tell them they are wrong. In the end the road goes both ways though. They can’t tell other people what they expect them to do. My friend Zoë, who is one of the most talented musicians who has ever walked the face of the earth, came out in support of Amanda. This alone was enough for me to realize not everyone is going to agree on this subject. The truth is we all make the choices which work for us. This means sometimes I work for free. It also means that sometimes I work for hugs and chocolate. Nobody’s choice but my own.

Ugh, editing again

I have been a very bad blogger lately. The truth is I have been really busy. By busy I mean reading a bunch of books and slowly starting up the editing process on my next book. Editing takes me forever but I know what awaits me at the finish line is worth it.

I have also semi-secretly started a few projects. I have been taking notes and fleshing out some thoughts on what my next novel is going to be. I have a few I can’t wait to start but I have decided I am going to start over on my Steampunk novel. The book which is apparently going to be my Moby Dick. Always just out of reach. This is it though. The story is one I clearly love but I have tried writing it twice. Getting almost 50,000 words into it once and not being happy with where the story went. Last chance for this story and then I am going to have to bury it.

I will start giving regular updates on my progress again. It keeps me honest with the work. I will do it every Saturday. In the meantime, I have a book recommendation to throw out at you. Go read The Chaos Walking Trilogy by Patrick Ness. Easily my favorite YA novels of the year, I stayed up past 1:30 last night finishing up book 2. I am totally hooked.

I’ll be back Friday to rant at the world a little. Some stupid stuff has really been bothering me lately but honestly I just didn’t want to depress myself writing about it today.

Holy Adaptability, Batman!

I feel like it has been forever since I have written a blog. I have a good reason though. A funny thing happened on the way to the start of my new school year. I got transferred. That’s right, exactly one week before the 1st day of school I was called into an office and told I was teaching 7th grade.

I went from teaching 30 students at an elementary 6th grade to 175 seventh graders at a middle school. If this wasn’t panic inducing enough I had to move my entire classroom to a new school and invent my curriculum. You read that right I have no curriculum. I am teaching the elective and was told I would have to create my own class.

Before anyone loses their mind on how outrageous my school district is. It really wasn’t their fault. The teacher who had been in my new position quit last Monday leaving them out in the cold. I have been moved to a school with a very bad reputation in the community. It is on its third principal in 3 years. However, the new principal has been in the district for over a decade. He was brought here to try to fix the school once and for all.

Suddenly without a teacher in his elective spot he was given a list with ten teachers names on it. The list was put together by the superintendent. It contained the names of teachers he thought would be able to quickly step into the position and not suck. I was on the list. He told me he wanted people who could change this school. People with a good reputation. Goodbye 6th grade.

After a few heart stopping moments of panic I sucked it up and welcomed the change. Afterall, I get to create my curriculum. I am teaching a class on creative writing and media arts. I get to do something new, exciting, and fun. It didn’t take me long to get excited. I stayed up until 4 am and worked on my plans. I figured out a rough outline of what I wanted the class to be and where I wanted to go with it.

Then I spent the rest of the week making my classroom look awesome (and clean. I hate dirty classrooms). When the first day of school rolled around I was completely jazzed. I have always embraced change. I like to do new and different things. I have prided myself on my ability to adapt and roll with the punches. This was a pretty big punch but I knew I was ready.

The first week has been wonderful. Honestly, I haven’t been this relaxed teaching in a long time. I am completely in my comfort zone. It helps the students have been excited about what we are going to be doing. On Wednesday a student walked up to me and said, “I know it’s only the third day but you are the most epic teacher I have ever had.” I think I am going to like this new home of mine.

Pinup Girl Boutique

It was our last day in Southern California and we were heading into Burbank to meet up with some friends and have lunch. It was very hot. Not hot enough to melt your shoes to the ground but close. Sheri and I were moving at a brisk pace to get over to the bakery. We had been promised potato balls and did not want to be late.

It was then we were stopped cold in our tracks. Getting stopped cold when you’re trying not to melt is a particularly mean feat. Our eyes had been drawn to a clothes store. In the window was a mannequin with a stunning retro dress on. The smile on Sheri’s face told me we would be coming back to the Pinup Boutique as soon as we could funnel some food down our mouths.

You see Sheri has recently fallen in love with this style of clothing. After years of hating how almost every dress looked on her she started buying dresses that transported her to a time when curves were all the rage and polka-dots on a dress was high fashion. Staring through the window of the Pinup Boutique I could tell Sheri was wondering if she had just fallen through a hole and found herself in Wonderland.

Luckily, our friends were both excited about looking at dresses (this is an understatement by the way. One of our friends had already discovered the store before lunch and put many dresses aside to try on later). Sheri walked through the store like a kid in a candy shop. Unsurprisingly, she found many things she wanted to try on.

The dresses were beautiful and the store was large and well stocked. This isn’t what stood out to me though. What stood out were the people who worked there. They were ridiculously fantastic. You could tell they genuinely loved their job and the store they worked in. They provided helpful hints. They made suggestions on dresses that worked. They were honest when the dress didn’t work. They never seemed pushy and they pampered their customers. It was without a doubt the best customer service I have seen in a store, ever. It really isn’t close.

When we left the boutique Sheri was on cloud nine. She was excited about what she purchased but it was more than that. She was excited about the experience. She loved hanging out with friends and feeling special. Pinup Boutique did that for her. As for me, I was given a lot of credit by the ladies for shopping with them and giving my opinion. I know men are not suppose to like clothes shopping. I think this is silly. Who wouldn’t want to watch women model clothes for them? I had a blast. Sheri was happy. My friends were happy. This made me happy.

If you live in Burbank (or near) you are doing yourselves a disservice not checking out this fine establishment. If you don’t live near, have no fear, they have a web site. I repeat, best customer service ever and dresses that will rock your world. Thanks Pinup Boutique you helped make our day special.

Affleck + JLA = I Can Dig It

Okay, let’s get it out of the way, Ben Affleck has committed crimes against cinema. I saw what happened in Daredevil. The scar tissue from Gigli still torments the brains of anyone who loves movies. There are others but those are going to be the rallying cries of why he should not be allowed within 10 feet of JLA.

It perplexes me a little. I often wonder about what it takes to reach escape velocity on bad career choices in Hollywood. Robert Downey Jr. almost killed himself and is now on top of the world. All Affleck did was fall in love and make a horrible movie and yet there always seems to be a reluctance to let him move on. I have no problem doing it.

As an actor he has made some very good movies. His portrayal of George Reeves in Hollywoodland was haunting. He was completely believable in The Town. It isn’t acting which is bringing him to the JLA table, it’s directing. If you have seen Gone, Baby Gone or The Town you know why Warner Brothers is interested. Both those movies were well crafted, well acted, and well directed movies.

The recent trend in superhero movies is a good one. Bring on talent and let the rest take care of itself. I love Joss Whedon but honestly his track record was spotty. He didn’t have a blockbuster movie under his belt. He had several failed TV series (admittedly Fox screwed him here). He was hired because of talent. Christopher Nolan and Batman was completely out of the box. Kenneth Branagh doing Thor was a total surprise.

So now we will get to listen to the hue and cry if Ben Affleck signs in to JLA. It has already started in several forums. Me, I dig it. It is totally out of the box. Affleck has talent and while as an actor he has been around for awhile he is still a young and hungry director. A director with an eye for casting. Someone who has written a few movies with great dialog. He has successfully adapted a best selling novel. His new movie Argo looks like a winner.

I am willing to forgive Affleck’s crimes against cinema. Maybe he will reach his escape velocity at last. I would rather have talent involved with projects that mean a lot to me. Does it mean it will work? No, of course not. There is some risk here for both Warner Brothers and Affleck. If it fails the chorus of, “I told you so” will rain down on their heads. If it succeeds than every superhero geek gets one more great movie we never thought would get made.

Yukon Ho!

This was not the blog I was planning on writing today. I was going to write a brilliant and witty blog about geeks with a side helping of my geeky wife. Only something insidious and foul has gotten in the way.

You know how you go on vacation and you try to cram as much stuff in as you can? How it feels like you are in some sick twisted competion with the Energizer Bunny and the loser will be banished to the neglected toy heap. What you don’t know (okay maybe it is just us. Throw in my psychological impairment of wanting to run in as many new towns and places and a recipe for disater is on the horizon).

I got up this morning with my back in a bad way. Felt like the Wee Free Men had been holding their annual cow tossing contest on me. I ate breakfast. I stretched and decided what the hell, I want to run in Skagway. So I did. Then I got going and decided to run to Canada. I began to scream Yukon Ho and ran into the mountains. If you are not aware Canada is a good 20 plus miles away. I got way up into the mountains. Hit an obnoxiously steep hill, regained my senses and turned around.

This is a long way to get around to the point that I am currently hopped up on Nyquil and am most definitely sick. I can feel the ache in my bones. I frakking hate that feeling. So no great and witty geek blog (my ego knows no bounds). I did give you a rare picture of Sheri and I. We are pink like and look ridiculously fabulous (despite my being sick).

We are having a great trip. I ended up doing the sensible thing today and took a train into Canada. It was gorgeous heading through the mountains. It was a long train ride though and by the end I knew I was in trouble.

It’s funny though. We did all these cool and wonderful things and the highlight of the trip was sitting in the grass talking to our friend Marian. We also got to meet her friend Pat and a twirling girl who likes to sing Marian’s songs. Talking with old and new friends is full of awesome. Doing it on a gorgeous day in Juneau, priceless. I will be off the grid for a few days now. I promise geeky blog soon. In the meantime, it is time to have some Nyquil dreams.

Zip It!

Why yes, I am writing this blog from my room’s balcony while watching airplanes make water landings. After many days of cruising in the Pacific we docked in Ketchikan this morning. The stop I was the most looking forward to and dreading just a tiny bit.

I woke up this morning around 5 am and looked out our window. The landscape was gorgeous. I knew I would regret not going for my run as we pulled into town. I quickly got all my gear on and went down for a 7 mile jog. It was a very pretty vista to run around a ship to. By the way you have not been jogging until you jog on a cruise ship. Fierce winds. Rocking boat. It’s an adventure.

Now as far as the dreading part. We went zip lining today. It is something Sheri and I have always talked about doing. The only thing really standing in our way is I am a tiny bit afraid of heights. By a tiny bit I mean my stomach turns in knots and tries to explode out of my chest like an alien on steroids.

Here’s the thing though. I said long ago I wasn’t going to be stopped by things that scared me. I grew up scared of everything. I spent a lot of time as an adult trying to conquer those things which eat me up inside. This meant no more excuses. Time to zip line.

I decided I didn’t want to pick too hard of a course but I also didn’t want too easy of one. I guess it would have helped to define what those things meant before I picked our course. We ended up doing several 700 foot drops from 14 stories high. We crossed three bridges that felt like if you sneezed too hard you might catapult yourself over.

To top it all off the tree platforms swayed something fierce in the wind. At our first platform we had to wait twenty minutes while they lowered someone down who was a couple of platforms ahead because she was freaking out. This really helped my nerves.

I did it though. Every line and every bridge. I looked down as I swooped over the forest and I managed to not get myself killed. Although, I did have to dodge a woman’s foot when she forgot to brake coming into the platform. If you have never been zip lining before, might I suggest you don’t forget to brake. She did not like her stop.

Sheri and I had a great time. By the end of the tour I was cracking jokes with the guides and Sheri’s prediction that I wouldn’t look nervous in the least despite my fears ended up being true. So far the trip has been great. Read lots of books. Bought some art. Jogged a lot. Consumed lots of food. Best of all I looked fear in the eye and cracked a joke (future title of autobiography).

Fat or Not?

When I look in the mirror I fight with my brain. Each and every time. My brain screams you will always be fat. My eyes rebel against the thought. The truth is I am as thin as I have ever been in the last twenty years. I know this to be true because I gave away a suit this week that I have had since college and I could still wear it.

I have struggled with my body image my whole life. It drives me crazy. I was very heavy for a good portion of my childhood and yet there were times I wasn’t. When I turned 18 I put on a huge amount of weight and then took it all off before I exited college (I didn’t start college for real until I was 21).

I steadily put on weight after I got married but nothing crazy. That was until I crushed my back. An injury that haunts me to this day. I went through a three-year period where I packed on pounds and got as heavy as I have ever been. Then through the help of some great physical therapists (who helped me exercise with the injured back) I lost 75 pounds. Then I hurt myself again and gained 35 of the 75 pounds back.

This last November I decided enough and took those 35 pounds right back off. I am now back to my college weight and yet I still feel like I am fat. I want off the yo-yo bus. I want off of the bad self-image train. It’s getting a little ridiculous.

I have accomplished some amazing things these last few months. I have run several half-marathons. I had a month where I ran 170 miles. This summer I have run in 4 different states and seven different cities. I am about to add another state and a few more cities but I seem incapable of letting go of the fat me.

It’s a weird feeling to have because I also feel like a runner. I know part of my worry is my back. I haven’t run these last three days because my back has been bad. However, unlike in the past I worked out on the elliptical for an hour each of those days. I feel good. I want to continue to feel good. I want to live as long as I possibly can. I am married to my best friend. I have to take care of myself for her.

And yet the mirror frakking hates me. I think it may always hate me. I will now endeavor to find a way to not give a fuck. I know I can do it. I turned myself into someone who writes novels. Someone who exercises every day. Someone who wants to run a marathon and thinks he might actually be able to do it. I will find away. In the meantime, I am going on a cruise. I will run everyday. I will walk the stairs and, yes, I will eat food (lots of food as long as I am running). I will enjoy Alaska and I will try to not worry about the damn mirrors.

Seriously, Shut The Frak Up!

This was not the blog I intended to write today. That blog will have to wait another day. Now the title of this blog could apply to many things. First and foremost politicians. I mean let’s face it. Every time they open their mouths you have an urge to stick a piece of dynamite in. It could be about that idiot Tosh who thinks rape is funny. I won’t say what we should stick in his mouth. I will leave that to your imagination.

Alas, the blog refers to how I felt yesterday while seeing Les Miserables in San Francisco. I have seen this musical a few times but this staging was breathtaking. This is a pretty hard thing to do. Make an old musical seem fresh and new again. Especially one I love so much. I know every word of every song and I was into it.

This is despite the couple who were sitting in front if us and their constant chit chat. While it was merely annoying in the first act it became unbearable in the second. They actually started laughing and cracking jokes. This would have been bad anywhere in the theater but they were in the first row. This means the actors on stage heard everything. As everyone around them began to give the evil eye to no avail, I decided enough. I quietly reminded them, “we are not in your living room,” this elicited a small chuckle from the woman sitting next to me.

It got me a stare from the fucking noisy nimrod. The woman actually turned around and pointed at me. As if I was the one doing something wrong. The comment got them to at least settle down to their merely annoying first half chatter.

As the musical ended the crowd erupted into a standing ovation. The nimrods turned around to stare at me some more. I didn’t care. I wasn’t looking at them. I was clapping for the actors who had poured their heart out into the stage.

The nimrods began discussing loudly with each other the idea they should say something to me. I ignored them and Sheri and I began to exit the theater. It was at this point the woman jabbed me in the shoulder with her hand and began to berate me. I actually smiled at her as I uttered the words, “Don’t you touch me.”

I think there must have been all kinds of crazy in my eyes because the woman and her now silent nimrod date began quickly moving past me. There was a time in my life I would have completely lost my shit. I mean bad. In my head the words were flowing like lava. Outside I was self-editing like a pro.

I knew if the words came out she would probably try to slap me. For fucks sake she had already touched me. I wouldn’t have let her touch me again. I imagine there was a good chance the shit would have gone down hill quickly from there. This would have ruined what has been a great week. Sheri does not do well with confrontation. It would have crushed her psyche inward like a house of cards crumbling to the ground.

Sheri was on cloud nine this week. She had a great time at Comic-Con. Met a lot of wonderful new people. Bought a steampunk outfit so she could come back and cosplay. I stood on the precipice of ruining the whole week. Taking away every good feeling. I sucked it up. I kept my shit together. I smiled at Sheri and we went and found a house manager (we were at the Orpheum in San Francisco). The house manager was wonderful. A few minutes into the conversation we were all mocking the idiot nimrods. He took our information. The theater asked us to write-up the incident and we left.

I am happy I held it together. I would like to say it’s a new sense of maturity but anyone who knows me knows this isn’t true. Mostly, it was caring about my wife’s comfort more than anything else. I lost my shit in my head and this time it was okay that it stayed there. It doesn’t change the moral of the story. You want to talk, stay home. If you come to a live event, shut the frak up!