Mark R. Hunter's Blog, page 45
January 23, 2019
Newspaper profile coming tomorrow (Thursday)
There's going to be a feature about Emily and me in the Thursday issue of the Fort Wayne newspaper, The Journal Gazette. (Assuming some big news event doesn't kick it down the road, of course.) I'd sent them a press release about the Albion Fire Department photo book project we're working on, and they interviewed us last week. It should be out in both their print and online additions, and the latter is here:
http://www.journalgazette.net/
After I sent the press release I talked to a reporter who interviewed me for over an hour, so I take it the article will be about more than just that particular project. We're looking forward to it--I hope you enjoy it too!
http://www.journalgazette.net/
After I sent the press release I talked to a reporter who interviewed me for over an hour, so I take it the article will be about more than just that particular project. We're looking forward to it--I hope you enjoy it too!
January 16, 2019
Nice Winters, and Other Strange Concepts
We had such a nice, warm winter going on there.
(Well ... "nice winter", is relative. But in northern Indiana, if the temperature stays above freezing for any amount of time between late December and the end of January, that's a nice winter.)
I wanted it to continue. I contacted my state representative and asked him to build a wall between us and Canada, to keep out those nasty polar vortexes. Look, I love Canada, but I understand why they call that country America's Hat: They have to wear hats up there to keep their ears from falling off. For nine months a year.
You have to respect people who get by even though they think North Dakota is a bit too warm for them.
Anyway, my state representative recently got a frostbit nose on the Pokagon State Park toboggan run, and was thus sympathetic. He threatened to shut down the state government unless they funded a Games Of Thrones style ice wall, until it was pointed out to him that keeping a polar vortex out would require a wall eighteen miles high ... and besides, Lake Michigan was a problem.
That guy has since moved to Boca Raton, which I discovered is in Florida. Traitor.
So, with no approval for a wall, or my backup idea involving a line of several hundred thousand salamanders pointed north, winter came back.
(Imagine my embarrassment when I discovered salamanders had to be powered by something, which made the idea financially unsound. I thought they all just crawled to the state line and breathed warm air into the wind.)
So one day I went outside to do yard work while it was in the low 50s (Fahrenheit--let's not get silly). Two days later it was 22 degrees, and lake-effect snow--which my wall would have stopped--was causing vehicles to skid all over like a Disney On Ice version of "Cars".
Which ... come to think of it would be a brilliant show, and I'd pay to go, if I could get out of my driveway.
Anyway, for awhile there we were having decent (relatively) weather, while the south was getting clobbered with ice and snow. I feel for the south, but there's a certain irony there: For most of my life I've sworn every winter that by next winter I'd move away; but like an angry Democrat celebrity, I never do. Honestly, I really love Indiana the rest of the year, but is a northern Indiana winter worth that?
Plan B was to become a rich author and have a winter home, an idea I abandoned when I found out the average author earns under the poverty line.
When it snows in the south, the counties dig out their only snow plow (manufactured by Mack in 1959). Most adults stay in, most kids go out to throw snowballs, and people who have to drive somewhere crash. All of them. But there's a good side: southern snow rarely lasts long, and pretty soon they get nice and toasty warm again (relatively).
Without a wall. Or maybe with, because the upper Midwest functions as their winter barrier.
Our good luck is over now, and we can expect a few months of complete ick. I shall survive by staying home as much as possible, writing under a multi-spectrum lamp while wearing both long flannel underwear and a big fluffy robe, and several layers in between. It's not quite denial.
But it beats Boca Raton in the summer.
(Well ... "nice winter", is relative. But in northern Indiana, if the temperature stays above freezing for any amount of time between late December and the end of January, that's a nice winter.)
I wanted it to continue. I contacted my state representative and asked him to build a wall between us and Canada, to keep out those nasty polar vortexes. Look, I love Canada, but I understand why they call that country America's Hat: They have to wear hats up there to keep their ears from falling off. For nine months a year.
You have to respect people who get by even though they think North Dakota is a bit too warm for them.
Anyway, my state representative recently got a frostbit nose on the Pokagon State Park toboggan run, and was thus sympathetic. He threatened to shut down the state government unless they funded a Games Of Thrones style ice wall, until it was pointed out to him that keeping a polar vortex out would require a wall eighteen miles high ... and besides, Lake Michigan was a problem.
That guy has since moved to Boca Raton, which I discovered is in Florida. Traitor.
So, with no approval for a wall, or my backup idea involving a line of several hundred thousand salamanders pointed north, winter came back.
(Imagine my embarrassment when I discovered salamanders had to be powered by something, which made the idea financially unsound. I thought they all just crawled to the state line and breathed warm air into the wind.)
So one day I went outside to do yard work while it was in the low 50s (Fahrenheit--let's not get silly). Two days later it was 22 degrees, and lake-effect snow--which my wall would have stopped--was causing vehicles to skid all over like a Disney On Ice version of "Cars".
Which ... come to think of it would be a brilliant show, and I'd pay to go, if I could get out of my driveway.
Anyway, for awhile there we were having decent (relatively) weather, while the south was getting clobbered with ice and snow. I feel for the south, but there's a certain irony there: For most of my life I've sworn every winter that by next winter I'd move away; but like an angry Democrat celebrity, I never do. Honestly, I really love Indiana the rest of the year, but is a northern Indiana winter worth that?
Plan B was to become a rich author and have a winter home, an idea I abandoned when I found out the average author earns under the poverty line.
When it snows in the south, the counties dig out their only snow plow (manufactured by Mack in 1959). Most adults stay in, most kids go out to throw snowballs, and people who have to drive somewhere crash. All of them. But there's a good side: southern snow rarely lasts long, and pretty soon they get nice and toasty warm again (relatively).
Without a wall. Or maybe with, because the upper Midwest functions as their winter barrier.
Our good luck is over now, and we can expect a few months of complete ick. I shall survive by staying home as much as possible, writing under a multi-spectrum lamp while wearing both long flannel underwear and a big fluffy robe, and several layers in between. It's not quite denial.
But it beats Boca Raton in the summer.
January 12, 2019
My publisher's dropping me; it's a good thing
Good news, everyone!
The new newsletter is out: https://mailchi.mp/dbc5dc2002fd/my-pu...
Or you can just read it here:
My publisher is dropping three of my books!
Well, it really is good news, but I'm going to have to explain it.
At my request, Start Publishing has returned the rights to three of my books: Storm Chaser, Storm Chaser Shorts, and The Notorious Ian Grant. They were originally put out by Whiskey Creek Press, which was later bought by Start Publishing. Start is a big company, and made arrangements for their e-books to be distributed by Simon and Schuster, a large and respected publisher.
This excited many WCP authors, as Whiskey Creek Press was a fairly small publisher, with limited resources. I understood going in that I'd have to do a lot of my own selling and promoting; but with these new players, it was hoped we'd get better distribution and more promotion help.
Alas, that didn't happen. I continued to promote as best I could, and overall I've liked and gotten along with everyone from both companies. But those three books are older now, and to my disappointment their prices never got lowered. In addition, I felt the print book prices were way too high, especially for an unknown author like me. (WCP and Start specialize in e-books.)
With Storm Chaser now seven years old and set at the same price as when brand new, my sales had dropped dramatically. In the last quarter of 2018 sales of those three books were abysmal, and I know that's a real word because I looked it up.
But I wasn't ready to give up. Many people who read Storm Chaser kept asking me for a sequel, which the other two books were--but the sales of those two weren't as good. I felt there was potential for the series yet, so I asked Start Publishing for the rights back.
It was a long process.
I want to stress that my experience with the publisher was for the most part very positive, and I met many good and admirable people. In fact, I still have another novel, Radio Red, available through their Torrid Books line.
But the rights to the other three are back in my hands, which is why you may notice them disappearing from various websites and resellers across the internet. (I do still have print copies of the two novels for sale. Storm Chaser Shorts, a short story collection, was never available in print--but it will be.)
Emily and I are going to re-release the books, including a print run for Storm Chaser Shorts, once she's designed new covers and otherwise gotten them ready. These are the old covers, which you'll see if you buy any print copies from us before the supply runs out (well, not the middle one, which come to think of it could stand a new title):
I'll probably drop the price of them close to my cost, since the new editions will have a much lower price tag. Emily's hard at work on other projects right now, but I'll keep you updated on when they'll come out. Also, I'll be going back to work later this year on a prequel, as a way of introducing readers to the Storm Chaser series as a whole.
And you'll see all those changes on MarkRHunter.com, of course! Remember to support your local author: Whenever a book doesn't sell, an angel loses his wings--don't jam up the roadways with hitchhiking angels.
The new newsletter is out: https://mailchi.mp/dbc5dc2002fd/my-pu...
Or you can just read it here:
My publisher is dropping three of my books!
Well, it really is good news, but I'm going to have to explain it.
At my request, Start Publishing has returned the rights to three of my books: Storm Chaser, Storm Chaser Shorts, and The Notorious Ian Grant. They were originally put out by Whiskey Creek Press, which was later bought by Start Publishing. Start is a big company, and made arrangements for their e-books to be distributed by Simon and Schuster, a large and respected publisher.
This excited many WCP authors, as Whiskey Creek Press was a fairly small publisher, with limited resources. I understood going in that I'd have to do a lot of my own selling and promoting; but with these new players, it was hoped we'd get better distribution and more promotion help.
Alas, that didn't happen. I continued to promote as best I could, and overall I've liked and gotten along with everyone from both companies. But those three books are older now, and to my disappointment their prices never got lowered. In addition, I felt the print book prices were way too high, especially for an unknown author like me. (WCP and Start specialize in e-books.)
With Storm Chaser now seven years old and set at the same price as when brand new, my sales had dropped dramatically. In the last quarter of 2018 sales of those three books were abysmal, and I know that's a real word because I looked it up.
But I wasn't ready to give up. Many people who read Storm Chaser kept asking me for a sequel, which the other two books were--but the sales of those two weren't as good. I felt there was potential for the series yet, so I asked Start Publishing for the rights back.
It was a long process.
I want to stress that my experience with the publisher was for the most part very positive, and I met many good and admirable people. In fact, I still have another novel, Radio Red, available through their Torrid Books line.
But the rights to the other three are back in my hands, which is why you may notice them disappearing from various websites and resellers across the internet. (I do still have print copies of the two novels for sale. Storm Chaser Shorts, a short story collection, was never available in print--but it will be.)
Emily and I are going to re-release the books, including a print run for Storm Chaser Shorts, once she's designed new covers and otherwise gotten them ready. These are the old covers, which you'll see if you buy any print copies from us before the supply runs out (well, not the middle one, which come to think of it could stand a new title):
I'll probably drop the price of them close to my cost, since the new editions will have a much lower price tag. Emily's hard at work on other projects right now, but I'll keep you updated on when they'll come out. Also, I'll be going back to work later this year on a prequel, as a way of introducing readers to the Storm Chaser series as a whole.
And you'll see all those changes on MarkRHunter.com, of course! Remember to support your local author: Whenever a book doesn't sell, an angel loses his wings--don't jam up the roadways with hitchhiking angels.
January 5, 2019
Inspiration at the Drive-In: the genesis of "Coming Attractions"
I was looking for something else entirely when I stumbled across this article, which went up on LiveJournal way back in 2012--not long after I finished writing Coming Attractions. I'd entered a writing competition back then, and put up the novel for voting. It made it through the first round, then ... that was it.
The manuscript at the time was much, much different from what ended up being published--in fact, some parts are totally changed. Better, I hope! But the article’s interesting, especially when compared to one I wrote just a few days ago, before I remembered this one. Maybe I’ll post that newer one later, when I’ve forgotten this one again.
Inspiration at the Drive-In: The Genesis of "Coming Attractions"
Oct. 5th, 2012 at 6:35 PM
When I tell people about my new novel, Coming Attractions, one of the first things they ask is how I came up with the idea of a romantic comedy about a drive-in movie theater.
The answer is not how, but where: At the drive-in, of course.
Just as I came up with Storm Chaser by looking to the skies, I came up with Coming Attractions by looking to the screen – the silver screen. But this book isn’t brand new: I came up with the concept years ago, when I started taking my kids to the Auburn-Garrett drive-in. Sadly, that’s the only one left anywhere near my home, although when I was a kid the Hi-Vue was closer.
There was a third near the limits of a reasonable drive, but toward the end it started showing X-rated flicks, back at a time when you couldn’t get them at the video store … back before the internet made that all passé.
At the time (this would be decades ago) the Hi-Vue where where you would go for family friendly fare: Their screen faced the highway, so they couldn’t show R rated stuff. The Auburn-Garrett sometimes showed racier movies, but the Hi-Vue was closer and I was a kid, so you can guess where I ended up.
But by the time I had kids of my own, the Auburn-Garrett was the only game around. I was a single father, the drive-in was cheap, and we all loved movies, so I introduced my girls to one of my best childhood memories.
If you wanted a good spot, you got there early. (The good spot is in the middle, near the restrooms.) So I pulled out a notebook, and while we waited for the sun to set, my daughters and I brainstormed the idea for a new novel – an idea that was as close as the big screen before us.
Of course, the story isn’t really about a drive-in, any more than a story is about a tornado, or an airplane, or a war. Stories are about people. Over time Charis and Jillian, with the help of a laptop, notebook, and various reference books we bought along, helped invent the characters, the plot, and … well, the atmosphere kind of took care of itself.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Don’t forget you can order Coming Attractions, and all our other books, on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/Mark-R-Hunter/...
Not to mention everything but our newest book is up at http://markrhunter.com/, and Coming Attractions will be there soon, too … or just search for “Mark R Hunter books” on that newfangled interwebs thingy. No, I don’t run Molson Coors Brewing Company.
The manuscript at the time was much, much different from what ended up being published--in fact, some parts are totally changed. Better, I hope! But the article’s interesting, especially when compared to one I wrote just a few days ago, before I remembered this one. Maybe I’ll post that newer one later, when I’ve forgotten this one again.
Inspiration at the Drive-In: The Genesis of "Coming Attractions"
Oct. 5th, 2012 at 6:35 PM
When I tell people about my new novel, Coming Attractions, one of the first things they ask is how I came up with the idea of a romantic comedy about a drive-in movie theater.
The answer is not how, but where: At the drive-in, of course.
Just as I came up with Storm Chaser by looking to the skies, I came up with Coming Attractions by looking to the screen – the silver screen. But this book isn’t brand new: I came up with the concept years ago, when I started taking my kids to the Auburn-Garrett drive-in. Sadly, that’s the only one left anywhere near my home, although when I was a kid the Hi-Vue was closer.
There was a third near the limits of a reasonable drive, but toward the end it started showing X-rated flicks, back at a time when you couldn’t get them at the video store … back before the internet made that all passé.
At the time (this would be decades ago) the Hi-Vue where where you would go for family friendly fare: Their screen faced the highway, so they couldn’t show R rated stuff. The Auburn-Garrett sometimes showed racier movies, but the Hi-Vue was closer and I was a kid, so you can guess where I ended up.
But by the time I had kids of my own, the Auburn-Garrett was the only game around. I was a single father, the drive-in was cheap, and we all loved movies, so I introduced my girls to one of my best childhood memories.
If you wanted a good spot, you got there early. (The good spot is in the middle, near the restrooms.) So I pulled out a notebook, and while we waited for the sun to set, my daughters and I brainstormed the idea for a new novel – an idea that was as close as the big screen before us.
Of course, the story isn’t really about a drive-in, any more than a story is about a tornado, or an airplane, or a war. Stories are about people. Over time Charis and Jillian, with the help of a laptop, notebook, and various reference books we bought along, helped invent the characters, the plot, and … well, the atmosphere kind of took care of itself.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Don’t forget you can order Coming Attractions, and all our other books, on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/Mark-R-Hunter/...
Not to mention everything but our newest book is up at http://markrhunter.com/, and Coming Attractions will be there soon, too … or just search for “Mark R Hunter books” on that newfangled interwebs thingy. No, I don’t run Molson Coors Brewing Company.
January 2, 2019
So Many Photos, So Little time
I've finished going through all the CDs and drives I could find, looking for any picture that might be useful in our Albion Fire Department photo book project. (It's a book project about the Albion Fire Department … focusing on photos. Pretty self-explanatory, but I'll look for a catchier title.)
Every photo I found that had even an outside shot of being useful, I transferred to a file and then to a thumb drive. I was pretty loose in my definition of "useful", since Emily can do amazing things with mediocre pictures, of which I've taken many. Then I totaled them all up.
My file now has 7,792 items, taking up 34.4 gigabytes of space.
This does not include a whole box full of photos loaned to us by Phil and Cindy Jacob, many of which Emily is in the process of scanning into her computer. It doesn't include the boxes of prints I have, myself. It also doesn't include any pictures we may yet have loaned to us by anyone else; it's just the ones I had immediately available in electronic form.
So … I've got some sorting to do.
Hopefully we'll get many more good photos donated toward the project, so I don't have to mess with my mediocre ones at all. But I have to admit, I had a lot of fun going through all those files. I've pretty much mastered a complete lack of organization, so I had to go through all my boxes of CDs … music, pictures, backups, documents, everything. I kept saying, "Hey--I remember that!"
I also transferred, to a different file, hundreds of my old humor columns, dating back to between 2000-2004. Basically fourteen to eighteen year old columns, which means many of my readers have never seen them, and the rest have probably forgotten. A project for later this year: Adapt and assemble them into a new book, which I've tentatively titled "Still Slightly Off the Mark".
An easy project in theory, but I'll probably rewrite them, since I'm theoretically better for having a decade and a half more writing experience. What do you think? Do we all need a laugh?
I think so, too.
Every photo I found that had even an outside shot of being useful, I transferred to a file and then to a thumb drive. I was pretty loose in my definition of "useful", since Emily can do amazing things with mediocre pictures, of which I've taken many. Then I totaled them all up.
My file now has 7,792 items, taking up 34.4 gigabytes of space.
This does not include a whole box full of photos loaned to us by Phil and Cindy Jacob, many of which Emily is in the process of scanning into her computer. It doesn't include the boxes of prints I have, myself. It also doesn't include any pictures we may yet have loaned to us by anyone else; it's just the ones I had immediately available in electronic form.
So … I've got some sorting to do.
Hopefully we'll get many more good photos donated toward the project, so I don't have to mess with my mediocre ones at all. But I have to admit, I had a lot of fun going through all those files. I've pretty much mastered a complete lack of organization, so I had to go through all my boxes of CDs … music, pictures, backups, documents, everything. I kept saying, "Hey--I remember that!"
I also transferred, to a different file, hundreds of my old humor columns, dating back to between 2000-2004. Basically fourteen to eighteen year old columns, which means many of my readers have never seen them, and the rest have probably forgotten. A project for later this year: Adapt and assemble them into a new book, which I've tentatively titled "Still Slightly Off the Mark".
An easy project in theory, but I'll probably rewrite them, since I'm theoretically better for having a decade and a half more writing experience. What do you think? Do we all need a laugh?
I think so, too.
December 29, 2018
Resolved: No New Year's Resolutions
I don't do New Year's Resolutions, mostly because failing is a terrible way to start a new year.
If you're going to make a major life change, it's usually best to do it gradually. A New Year's Resolution is like someone who never exercised deciding to run a marathon--tomorrow. Get healthy? Absolutely. Go cold turkey on cigarettes and snack food on January 2nd? Well, that's why violent incidents go up on January 3rd.
Having said that, for some people stopping all at once is the only way to accomplish something, and I'm all for accomplishing something. That being the case, if you want to make a resolution and be serious about it, more power to you. Just remember, the proper response to nicotine withdrawal is not second degree murder. Not even third degree.
Well, maybe third.
For me, the best time of the year to make life changes is spring. Why? Because in spring, I care about life. In January, all I care about is turning the oven on low, wrapping myself in a blanket, and climbing inside. It's the only place I can get warm. I really don't care what's happening elsewhere, and I wouldn't go out at all if I didn't need to make money to pay the gas bill. If I did make a New Year's Resolution, it would be to fill up the Ford's fuel tank and just Escape south until I drive into salt water.
But spring ... I could do spring. Things are looking up. Green stuff starts appearing. There's sun, except during basketball playoffs, when for some reason there's always ice.
What's up with that? Why is Hoosier Hysteria always accompanied by "Midwest ice storm--film at eleven"?
Sure, sometimes I go out into an April sleet storm, but generally things are looking up. Sometimes the snowpile at the end of the Wal-Mart parking lot even melts away by Independence Day. I'll walk out the door on March 21st and say, "Now I want to lose weight and give up Mountain Dew! I'll start tomorrow."
I gave up drinking after my 21st birthday party, which they tell me was a blast. I never did smoke; but with my addictive personality, if I started they'd have to bury me with both hands clutching a pack of ... I don't know, what brands of cigarettes are they still selling these days? I can't imagine walking a mile for a Camel.
Maybe that's the thing about the New Year: I never got addicted to making resolutions. But hey--there's time for me yet.
The only real resolution I have for this year--which I sincerely hope is better than last year--is to keep on writing. My plan for 2019 is to publish two new books (at least--we'll see) and write at least one other new one. That, and continuing the submission process for some already-written manuscripts, should be enough to keep me out of trouble.
And promotion. *sigh*
(Speaking of promotion, don't forget to check us out at www.markrhunter.com, or see links to all our books at this post: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2018... ... Happy New Year!
If you're going to make a major life change, it's usually best to do it gradually. A New Year's Resolution is like someone who never exercised deciding to run a marathon--tomorrow. Get healthy? Absolutely. Go cold turkey on cigarettes and snack food on January 2nd? Well, that's why violent incidents go up on January 3rd.
Having said that, for some people stopping all at once is the only way to accomplish something, and I'm all for accomplishing something. That being the case, if you want to make a resolution and be serious about it, more power to you. Just remember, the proper response to nicotine withdrawal is not second degree murder. Not even third degree.
Well, maybe third.
For me, the best time of the year to make life changes is spring. Why? Because in spring, I care about life. In January, all I care about is turning the oven on low, wrapping myself in a blanket, and climbing inside. It's the only place I can get warm. I really don't care what's happening elsewhere, and I wouldn't go out at all if I didn't need to make money to pay the gas bill. If I did make a New Year's Resolution, it would be to fill up the Ford's fuel tank and just Escape south until I drive into salt water.
But spring ... I could do spring. Things are looking up. Green stuff starts appearing. There's sun, except during basketball playoffs, when for some reason there's always ice.
What's up with that? Why is Hoosier Hysteria always accompanied by "Midwest ice storm--film at eleven"?
Sure, sometimes I go out into an April sleet storm, but generally things are looking up. Sometimes the snowpile at the end of the Wal-Mart parking lot even melts away by Independence Day. I'll walk out the door on March 21st and say, "Now I want to lose weight and give up Mountain Dew! I'll start tomorrow."
I gave up drinking after my 21st birthday party, which they tell me was a blast. I never did smoke; but with my addictive personality, if I started they'd have to bury me with both hands clutching a pack of ... I don't know, what brands of cigarettes are they still selling these days? I can't imagine walking a mile for a Camel.
Maybe that's the thing about the New Year: I never got addicted to making resolutions. But hey--there's time for me yet.
The only real resolution I have for this year--which I sincerely hope is better than last year--is to keep on writing. My plan for 2019 is to publish two new books (at least--we'll see) and write at least one other new one. That, and continuing the submission process for some already-written manuscripts, should be enough to keep me out of trouble.
And promotion. *sigh*
(Speaking of promotion, don't forget to check us out at www.markrhunter.com, or see links to all our books at this post: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2018... ... Happy New Year!
December 28, 2018
The Drive-In Movies In The Dead Of Winter
I've been contemplating the fact that I wrote a novel set at a drive-in movie theater in early summer, and released it at the beginning of winter.
Wishful thinking, maybe? After all, I'm known for wanting to skip the cold months.
There are two ways of looking at this:
1. Maybe in the dead of winter people would like to think about the kind of weather that would allow you to to sit outside and watch a movie.
B. Maybe I screwed up.
I also wrote part of the novel while sitting outside at a drive-in movie theater, but that's another story. It's definitely useful to soak in the atmosphere.
In any case, it doesn't look like we'll sell a hundred copies by January 1st, which implies people might prefer to read a summer novel in the summer. (I won't know the numbers for sure until I start getting sales reports. Also, because we haven't ordered a print run yet, I'm counting anyone who said they wanted a hard copy when it's available.) It also means I won't have to embarrass myself with the public poetry reading or the old photos, although to be honest I was kind of looking forward to it. Maybe we'll try again next month, when the seasonal overload starts to ebb.
Personally, I think a fun story set in summer could help us through the winter blahs.
Coming Attractions should be up very soon on our websites, www.markrhunter.com. In the meantime, here's a list of where you can find the book online:
https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2018...
Mark R Hunter
Wishful thinking, maybe? After all, I'm known for wanting to skip the cold months.
There are two ways of looking at this:
1. Maybe in the dead of winter people would like to think about the kind of weather that would allow you to to sit outside and watch a movie.
B. Maybe I screwed up.
I also wrote part of the novel while sitting outside at a drive-in movie theater, but that's another story. It's definitely useful to soak in the atmosphere.
In any case, it doesn't look like we'll sell a hundred copies by January 1st, which implies people might prefer to read a summer novel in the summer. (I won't know the numbers for sure until I start getting sales reports. Also, because we haven't ordered a print run yet, I'm counting anyone who said they wanted a hard copy when it's available.) It also means I won't have to embarrass myself with the public poetry reading or the old photos, although to be honest I was kind of looking forward to it. Maybe we'll try again next month, when the seasonal overload starts to ebb.
Personally, I think a fun story set in summer could help us through the winter blahs.
Coming Attractions should be up very soon on our websites, www.markrhunter.com. In the meantime, here's a list of where you can find the book online:
https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2018...
Mark R Hunter
December 23, 2018
Santa Claus on the naughty list
T'was the night before Christmas when I met my partner, Mary Darling, for our Christmas Eve shift in the City of Angels. "Merry Christmas, Darling." The squad room's halls were decked.
"Feliz Navidad," replied Darling, who's been taking Spanish lessons. "Looks like we'll have a white Christmas."
"Maybe it'll be quiet, and we can spend the night at the station, rockin' around the Christmas tree."
But our wonderful Christmas time was interrupted by a radio call. Darling listened to the dispatcher, then turned to me. "Do you hear what I hear?"
"Yeah," I said. "Grandma got run over by a reindeer. Looks like somebody's going to have a blue Christmas."
We took a sleigh ride to Candy Cane Lane, where we found Grandma under the tree, being treated for facial injuries. "All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth," was all she'd say, but we had two witnesses: her granddaughter Noel, and Noel's boyfriend, a rap singer who went by Little Drummer Boy.
"It was a burglary," LDB started to say, but Noel wanted to be the first.
"It was Santa, baby," Noel said. "I saw it, too. I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus. When Grandma caught them she chased him, but she hadn't put on her Christmas shoes and he got away."
"So the reindeer didn't run her over?" Darling asked.
"No, she tripped and fell into the holly and the ivy. You can see how her white gown now has greensleeves, and forget the Christmas shoes; she fell so hard her slippers are up on the housetop. Just ask Frosty the Snowman, he was there."
But Frosty had gone home for the holidays, and I began to suspect there was more to this than what could be put into the morning pretty paper. "Noel--Noel? Did you hear anything before the attack?"
"Yeah, I heard someone say "Here comes Santa Claus! Then I heard jingle bells, and I figured Santa Claus was coming to town."
"Did your mom say anything?" Darling asked.
"Just 'Santa, Baby'." Then they saw Grandma come in, and Santa went running out the door. The last thing I heard was him yelling 'Run, Rudolph, Run!' Then I went out and saw Grandma got her jingle bell rocked."
Little Drummer Boy put his arm around Noel. "Let's go in--baby, it's cold outside."
But she shrugged him off. "let it snow. I saw you flirting with our neighbor, Carol, under the silver bells. I heard you offering to bring Joy to the world. You just want to be the man with all the toys."
"No, baby--all I want for Christmas is you."
"Yeah, I bought all that when you gave me silver and gold last Christmas. But it doesn't have to be that way."
I couldn't believe it. Do they know it's Christmas? Well, there wouldn't be any peace on Earth tonight.
I'd walked out into the silent night, to where Grandma had been found in the snowfall. But there were no other footprints in the snow, or sleigh tracks. Santa Claus may be back in town, but he hadn't been here.
But Little Drummer Boy was wearing a red parka. "I don't think you're telling me the whole truth about Santa, baby." Reaching out, I drew the parka hood over his head. "Noel, does this look familiar to you?"
She gasped. "Hey--Santa!"
Under the tree, Noel's mom shoved away from grandma and growled, "Fine, you caught us ... the Little Drummer Boy was giving me a holly jolly Christmas, all right? I didn't want to be all alone for Christmas, and he was on my grown-up Christmas list."
I shook my head. "But don't you see that Santa Claus is watching you?"
"Yeah?" She smirked at me. "Well, he's seen a lot, if he's been watching the last twelve days of Christmas."
"Mom!" Noel gasped. Then she turned around and slugged LDB in the mouth, right under the mistletoe.
"I hear bells," LDB said as he faded out. It would be a silent night for him.
Later, after we filled out the paperwork, I asked Darling, "Mary, did you know?".
"Oh, I knew LDB must be Santa." Darling took a drink of eggnog (non-alcoholic--we were on duty), and added, "He really got his halls decked."
"Yeah, I'll bet he harked the herald angels sing."
It looked like LDB and the mom had something else in common: They wouldn't be home for Christmas. For the rest of us, it's the most wonderful time of the year. But for them?
Well, I figure they got nuttin' for Christmas.
For the rest of the shift we got our one wish--no more Grinches. As for the rest of you: We wish you a merry Christmas!
"Feliz Navidad," replied Darling, who's been taking Spanish lessons. "Looks like we'll have a white Christmas."
"Maybe it'll be quiet, and we can spend the night at the station, rockin' around the Christmas tree."
But our wonderful Christmas time was interrupted by a radio call. Darling listened to the dispatcher, then turned to me. "Do you hear what I hear?"
"Yeah," I said. "Grandma got run over by a reindeer. Looks like somebody's going to have a blue Christmas."
We took a sleigh ride to Candy Cane Lane, where we found Grandma under the tree, being treated for facial injuries. "All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth," was all she'd say, but we had two witnesses: her granddaughter Noel, and Noel's boyfriend, a rap singer who went by Little Drummer Boy.
"It was a burglary," LDB started to say, but Noel wanted to be the first.
"It was Santa, baby," Noel said. "I saw it, too. I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus. When Grandma caught them she chased him, but she hadn't put on her Christmas shoes and he got away."
"So the reindeer didn't run her over?" Darling asked.
"No, she tripped and fell into the holly and the ivy. You can see how her white gown now has greensleeves, and forget the Christmas shoes; she fell so hard her slippers are up on the housetop. Just ask Frosty the Snowman, he was there."
But Frosty had gone home for the holidays, and I began to suspect there was more to this than what could be put into the morning pretty paper. "Noel--Noel? Did you hear anything before the attack?"
"Yeah, I heard someone say "Here comes Santa Claus! Then I heard jingle bells, and I figured Santa Claus was coming to town."
"Did your mom say anything?" Darling asked.
"Just 'Santa, Baby'." Then they saw Grandma come in, and Santa went running out the door. The last thing I heard was him yelling 'Run, Rudolph, Run!' Then I went out and saw Grandma got her jingle bell rocked."
Little Drummer Boy put his arm around Noel. "Let's go in--baby, it's cold outside."
But she shrugged him off. "let it snow. I saw you flirting with our neighbor, Carol, under the silver bells. I heard you offering to bring Joy to the world. You just want to be the man with all the toys."
"No, baby--all I want for Christmas is you."
"Yeah, I bought all that when you gave me silver and gold last Christmas. But it doesn't have to be that way."
I couldn't believe it. Do they know it's Christmas? Well, there wouldn't be any peace on Earth tonight.
I'd walked out into the silent night, to where Grandma had been found in the snowfall. But there were no other footprints in the snow, or sleigh tracks. Santa Claus may be back in town, but he hadn't been here.
But Little Drummer Boy was wearing a red parka. "I don't think you're telling me the whole truth about Santa, baby." Reaching out, I drew the parka hood over his head. "Noel, does this look familiar to you?"
She gasped. "Hey--Santa!"
Under the tree, Noel's mom shoved away from grandma and growled, "Fine, you caught us ... the Little Drummer Boy was giving me a holly jolly Christmas, all right? I didn't want to be all alone for Christmas, and he was on my grown-up Christmas list."
I shook my head. "But don't you see that Santa Claus is watching you?"
"Yeah?" She smirked at me. "Well, he's seen a lot, if he's been watching the last twelve days of Christmas."
"Mom!" Noel gasped. Then she turned around and slugged LDB in the mouth, right under the mistletoe.
"I hear bells," LDB said as he faded out. It would be a silent night for him.
Later, after we filled out the paperwork, I asked Darling, "Mary, did you know?".
"Oh, I knew LDB must be Santa." Darling took a drink of eggnog (non-alcoholic--we were on duty), and added, "He really got his halls decked."
"Yeah, I'll bet he harked the herald angels sing."
It looked like LDB and the mom had something else in common: They wouldn't be home for Christmas. For the rest of us, it's the most wonderful time of the year. But for them?
Well, I figure they got nuttin' for Christmas.
For the rest of the shift we got our one wish--no more Grinches. As for the rest of you: We wish you a merry Christmas!
December 18, 2018
More reasons why books are the best Christmas gifts
This would seem a good time for a reminder that books are the best Christmas gifts. Yes, even for non-readers: In fact, books owned by people who don’t read are not only great re-gifts, but when not re-gifted they’re the books in the best condition. No dog-ears, no food stains, no bent pages … pristine. Two hundred years from now, they'll be in such great condition you can resell them for enough to make up for inflation, if you should happen to still be alive.
In addition to that, books:
Never talk about politics unless you want them to.
Can be effective weapons for self defense, especially if written by George R.R. Martin.
Make bookcases more useful. In bookcases used for a figurine collection, a few books between the ceramic angels can keep you from having to rename your furniture.
Can be hollowed out to hide contraband and/or listening devices.
Require no batteries, unless they contain listening devices.
Almost never rot your brain ... depending on the book.
Don't have to be read in a crowded book theater; there's no guy sitting right in front of you yakking into his cell phone, unless you have kids. Send the kids to the movies.
Never go offline during power outages, assuming you have backup lighting. If you don’t have backup lighting, are you really smart enough to read?
Support local authors. Well, support local authors if the authors live near you. But they're local for someone, aren't they? Even Anne Rice lives somewhere. I assume. Or you could support me, which would make me happy, and don’t you want to see me happy? I thought so.
If you’ve heard horror stories about shopping this time of year, you could always go to our website at http://www.markrhunter.com/books.html. This gives you a choice of several books in five or six different genres (because I just can’t seem to keep my mind on one thing), with prices ranging all the way down to free (for Strange Portals, anyway). It’s like Black Friday somehow turned into bright December.
So that’s my pitch, and if you spread the word I promise I’ll continue to be funny and entertaining.
Okay, I’ll try. But even if I'm not, I'll always have books.
In addition to that, books:
Never talk about politics unless you want them to.
Can be effective weapons for self defense, especially if written by George R.R. Martin.
Make bookcases more useful. In bookcases used for a figurine collection, a few books between the ceramic angels can keep you from having to rename your furniture.
Can be hollowed out to hide contraband and/or listening devices.
Require no batteries, unless they contain listening devices.
Almost never rot your brain ... depending on the book.
Don't have to be read in a crowded book theater; there's no guy sitting right in front of you yakking into his cell phone, unless you have kids. Send the kids to the movies.
Never go offline during power outages, assuming you have backup lighting. If you don’t have backup lighting, are you really smart enough to read?
Support local authors. Well, support local authors if the authors live near you. But they're local for someone, aren't they? Even Anne Rice lives somewhere. I assume. Or you could support me, which would make me happy, and don’t you want to see me happy? I thought so.
If you’ve heard horror stories about shopping this time of year, you could always go to our website at http://www.markrhunter.com/books.html. This gives you a choice of several books in five or six different genres (because I just can’t seem to keep my mind on one thing), with prices ranging all the way down to free (for Strange Portals, anyway). It’s like Black Friday somehow turned into bright December.
So that’s my pitch, and if you spread the word I promise I’ll continue to be funny and entertaining.
Okay, I’ll try. But even if I'm not, I'll always have books.
December 16, 2018
A new excerpt from "Hoosier Hysterical"
I noticed a little uptick in sales for Hoosier Hysterical last month, so in the service of shameless self-promotion I decided to throw you a little excerpt from Chapter Three of the book. (Actually, I do feel a little ashamed when I self-promote, but I'm trying to get over it.)
Why Chapter Three? Well, you probably haven't seen that part unless you've actually bought the book yourself. And even then you may not have seen it. My idea is to build sales uptick on sales uptick, and before you know it: an interview on "Good Morning, America".
Is "Good Morning, America" still running?
Also, I went to all that trouble to learn how to spell "excerpt", not to mention double checking the definition, so I figured I should make it worth something.
(Also because we've officially started another history related book project, but more about that later.)
As all fourteen of my regular readers know, Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving at All is an illustrated humor book about Indiana history and trivia. The book is illustrated, not the humor.
Chapter Three:
You Say You Want a Revolution?
So our story of Indiana in the American Revolution starts in Kentucky, and goes to Virginia.
Haven’t you ever gotten lost on a long trip?
Not That Clark—The Other One
George Rogers Clark was a surveyor, and one of the first people to venture into what would be Kentucky. When war broke out, Clark went to Virginia, which claimed most of the lower Midwest at the time, and met with a governor by the name of Patrick Henry.
“Hey Gov, can you help me raise an army and kick Henry Hamilton’s hairy hind end?”
“Oh, sure, I’ll just hand over money to a surveyor with no military service, so you can leave the real fighting and wander around an Indian infested wilderness nobody cares about.”
“Exactly! Thanks, Governor!”
“Okay, let’s work on your sense of sarcasm.”
Clark gathered up about two hundred farmers, who brought their own rifles and knives but no uniforms—just buckskin clothes. They reached Indiana at the Falls of the Ohio, which means I’ve mentioned almost all the future states along the Ohio except Illinois. Then they went to Illinois.
Specifically, this untrained rabble of farmers and trappers decided to attack a fort at Kaskaskia, which at the time was on the east bank of the Mississippi River. (Now it’s on the west bank, surrounded by Missouri—long story.) It would, clearly, be a disaster.
They took Kaskaskia without firing a shot.
French settlers remained in the area, and they promised to support Clark if he, in turn, promised to guarantee them freedom of religion. He said “Sure—we’ll work it into a constitution”, and together they marched through frozen swamps back into Indiana, where they found the fort at Vincennes unoccupied.
Clark renamed it Fort Patrick Henry, possibly to guarantee the Virginia governor would keep the supplies coming. But up in Detroit Henry Hamilton heard about it, and led an army that took Vincennes-Patrick Henry back—again, without firing a shot. Hamilton renamed it yet again, so it became Fort Vincennes-Patrick Henry-Sackville.
Clark didn’t like that. Patrick Henry probably wasn’t thrilled, either.
It goes without saying that Hoosier Hysterical and all our books can be found at http://markrhunter.com/, and on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/Mark-R.-Hunter..., and other fun places including the trunk of my car, and yet I said it anyway.
Emily and I previously conspired on--ahem--co-wrote two other history related books and a collection of my humor columns, so I'm calling us semi-pros.
Why Chapter Three? Well, you probably haven't seen that part unless you've actually bought the book yourself. And even then you may not have seen it. My idea is to build sales uptick on sales uptick, and before you know it: an interview on "Good Morning, America".
Is "Good Morning, America" still running?
Also, I went to all that trouble to learn how to spell "excerpt", not to mention double checking the definition, so I figured I should make it worth something.
(Also because we've officially started another history related book project, but more about that later.)
As all fourteen of my regular readers know, Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving at All is an illustrated humor book about Indiana history and trivia. The book is illustrated, not the humor.
Chapter Three:
You Say You Want a Revolution?
So our story of Indiana in the American Revolution starts in Kentucky, and goes to Virginia.
Haven’t you ever gotten lost on a long trip?
Not That Clark—The Other One
George Rogers Clark was a surveyor, and one of the first people to venture into what would be Kentucky. When war broke out, Clark went to Virginia, which claimed most of the lower Midwest at the time, and met with a governor by the name of Patrick Henry.
“Hey Gov, can you help me raise an army and kick Henry Hamilton’s hairy hind end?”
“Oh, sure, I’ll just hand over money to a surveyor with no military service, so you can leave the real fighting and wander around an Indian infested wilderness nobody cares about.”
“Exactly! Thanks, Governor!”
“Okay, let’s work on your sense of sarcasm.”
Clark gathered up about two hundred farmers, who brought their own rifles and knives but no uniforms—just buckskin clothes. They reached Indiana at the Falls of the Ohio, which means I’ve mentioned almost all the future states along the Ohio except Illinois. Then they went to Illinois.
Specifically, this untrained rabble of farmers and trappers decided to attack a fort at Kaskaskia, which at the time was on the east bank of the Mississippi River. (Now it’s on the west bank, surrounded by Missouri—long story.) It would, clearly, be a disaster.
They took Kaskaskia without firing a shot.
French settlers remained in the area, and they promised to support Clark if he, in turn, promised to guarantee them freedom of religion. He said “Sure—we’ll work it into a constitution”, and together they marched through frozen swamps back into Indiana, where they found the fort at Vincennes unoccupied.
Clark renamed it Fort Patrick Henry, possibly to guarantee the Virginia governor would keep the supplies coming. But up in Detroit Henry Hamilton heard about it, and led an army that took Vincennes-Patrick Henry back—again, without firing a shot. Hamilton renamed it yet again, so it became Fort Vincennes-Patrick Henry-Sackville.
Clark didn’t like that. Patrick Henry probably wasn’t thrilled, either.
It goes without saying that Hoosier Hysterical and all our books can be found at http://markrhunter.com/, and on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/Mark-R.-Hunter..., and other fun places including the trunk of my car, and yet I said it anyway.
Emily and I previously conspired on--ahem--co-wrote two other history related books and a collection of my humor columns, so I'm calling us semi-pros.
