Mark R. Hunter's Blog, page 67
August 24, 2016
Another Submission Season
In all the work and fuss over getting Hoosier Hysterical published, I haven’t had time to deal with the other works I sent out into the cold, cruel publishing world. Over the last several months they’ve all come back to me via rejections—except in some cases when I hauled them back in after not hearing from publishers/agents for several months.
So I’ve gotten busy again. Over the last few days I’ve sent out eight submissions—three novels and five short stories—to various magazines, publishers, and agents. I have another romantic comedy (Coming Attractions) that I’ve held back for some further editing, so that’s my next chore.
Unlike most editors, agents are usually okay with simultaneous submissions, which means I could be telling you about several dozen submissions. But a writer/agent relationship needs to be very solid, so I spend time investigating agents, looking for one that might be just right for me … shotgun submitting isn’t my style. If an enthusiastic publisher offers me a three book deal before I land an agent … well, that’s a “problem” I’ll just have to deal with, isn’t it?
So I’ve gotten busy again. Over the last few days I’ve sent out eight submissions—three novels and five short stories—to various magazines, publishers, and agents. I have another romantic comedy (Coming Attractions) that I’ve held back for some further editing, so that’s my next chore.
Unlike most editors, agents are usually okay with simultaneous submissions, which means I could be telling you about several dozen submissions. But a writer/agent relationship needs to be very solid, so I spend time investigating agents, looking for one that might be just right for me … shotgun submitting isn’t my style. If an enthusiastic publisher offers me a three book deal before I land an agent … well, that’s a “problem” I’ll just have to deal with, isn’t it?
August 20, 2016
A writer's life is but a dream
Here's what writers do with dreams:
The other night I had a dream that my home town was populated by the characters from "The Andy Griffith Show". Opie, the boy from the show, was a teenager, and was preparing to go to the prom; but his date was very sickly looking and had lost all her hair, and everyone was concerned that if she died, Opie's heart would be broken.
(We've been dealing a lot with cancer involving friends and family the last few years.)
On the drive to Emily's work the next day, I outlined the dream (I was in it, but mostly as an observer). It's not unheard of for me to use elements of dreams in my fiction, but I told her I didn't see any way I could turn this scenario into the kind of stories I write.
Then we started talking about it.
It's an hour long trip. I dropped her off, then started writing down the ideas ... By the time I was done, I had a sloppy thousand word synopsis and some short character sketches. There is now no sign whatsoever of the "Andy Griffith Show" characters--all I have is the prom scenario, a sickly girl, a sensitive, loner teenage nerd, and a small town. Just the same, I gave tribute to the original dream in my working title:
"Mayberry UFO."
A UFO does not actually appear in my story idea, but my mind works in strange ways. For now, I've added this to my list of 50 or so "to be written" stories.
The other night I had a dream that my home town was populated by the characters from "The Andy Griffith Show". Opie, the boy from the show, was a teenager, and was preparing to go to the prom; but his date was very sickly looking and had lost all her hair, and everyone was concerned that if she died, Opie's heart would be broken.
(We've been dealing a lot with cancer involving friends and family the last few years.)
On the drive to Emily's work the next day, I outlined the dream (I was in it, but mostly as an observer). It's not unheard of for me to use elements of dreams in my fiction, but I told her I didn't see any way I could turn this scenario into the kind of stories I write.
Then we started talking about it.
It's an hour long trip. I dropped her off, then started writing down the ideas ... By the time I was done, I had a sloppy thousand word synopsis and some short character sketches. There is now no sign whatsoever of the "Andy Griffith Show" characters--all I have is the prom scenario, a sickly girl, a sensitive, loner teenage nerd, and a small town. Just the same, I gave tribute to the original dream in my working title:
"Mayberry UFO."
A UFO does not actually appear in my story idea, but my mind works in strange ways. For now, I've added this to my list of 50 or so "to be written" stories.
August 19, 2016
Rice Dogs Finish Last
We’ve been having problems with Bae getting into stuff on the kitchen counters when we’re gone. (Where does an 85 pound dog go? Anywhere above about five feet.) That’s why, for instance, the bread is now in an upper cupboard, and the cereal is on top of the cupboard. Our mutt loves wheat products, but he’s allergic to wheat. Kind of like how I love chocolate, but I’m allergic to cholesterol.
Anything on the counter has to be kept in sealed containers unless, of course, it’s something dogs would never eat, like rice. Then, a few days ago, we got home to find a bag of rice that looked like it had been attacked by a werewolf. It’s flavored rice, but still—now that also had to go into a sealed container.
Yesterday we arrived home to find Bae has learned how to open Tupperware.
The results of him eating an entire container of uncooked rice should be punishment enough … but by the time it gets to that, um, end, he’ll probably have no idea why he’s having tummy troubles. I’m much more bothered by the fact that his learning curve seems to be advancing faster than ours. By this time next week he’ll wait until we leave, then walk to the store for donuts.
I wonder if he knows where I keep my credit card?
Anything on the counter has to be kept in sealed containers unless, of course, it’s something dogs would never eat, like rice. Then, a few days ago, we got home to find a bag of rice that looked like it had been attacked by a werewolf. It’s flavored rice, but still—now that also had to go into a sealed container.
Yesterday we arrived home to find Bae has learned how to open Tupperware.
The results of him eating an entire container of uncooked rice should be punishment enough … but by the time it gets to that, um, end, he’ll probably have no idea why he’s having tummy troubles. I’m much more bothered by the fact that his learning curve seems to be advancing faster than ours. By this time next week he’ll wait until we leave, then walk to the store for donuts.
I wonder if he knows where I keep my credit card?
August 17, 2016
Getting Back Off the Mark
Holy cow, I just got notice of my deadline for the September addition of 4County Mall! The paper doesn’t publish in July and August, so it’s easy to get out of practice.
It’s been a big adjustment for me, going from writing a weekly column to a monthly one, even without the summer break. Deadlines can be a good thing. I wonder if I shouldn’t start writing humor again, say twice a month, on my own regular deadline? Then I could either have a few columns saved back in case of illness or other delay, or put the extra material into another Slightly Off the Mark book.
Or I could just dedicate myself to writing another thousand words of fiction on a weekly schedule. What would you do?
It’s been a big adjustment for me, going from writing a weekly column to a monthly one, even without the summer break. Deadlines can be a good thing. I wonder if I shouldn’t start writing humor again, say twice a month, on my own regular deadline? Then I could either have a few columns saved back in case of illness or other delay, or put the extra material into another Slightly Off the Mark book.
Or I could just dedicate myself to writing another thousand words of fiction on a weekly schedule. What would you do?
August 16, 2016
Movie Review: Getting the Squad Together
I love a good comic book movie. I also love a bad comic book movie—that’s why I’d never make it as a movie critic.
Luckily, Suicide Squad is a good comic book movie—but not great. Character motivations and plot can be murky, and as usual there are logic questions.
So why did I like it so much? My usual reasons: Characters and humor.
Rumor has it the movie was originally a lot darker, which to me is the kiss of death for a summer-type popcorn flick. It’s people in costumes breaking things; if you’re not having fun, what’s the point? But in the finished product, the humor works for the characters.
And what characters they are, as DC puts together major and minor villains, with hardly a hero in sight. (Batman has a glorified cameo, while a few future Justice League members are glimpsed.) There is Katana, but she’s not your grandpa’s hero: She’s female, not American, and seems to take some delight in killing people with her soul-stealing sword.
On a related note, Katana didn’t get enough screen time. I’d dearly like her to headline her own movie—or at least get an expanded role with a future team.
The setup: A group of villains is assembled for wet work—to go in where the heroes can’t and do bad things the heroes won’t. If it turn out badly? Hey, they’re villains, and over there is a bus to throw them under. (I thought about that when a bus actually appeared in the movie.) In the end the group bonds—more quickly than makes sense—as they face a world-ending threat from one of their own.
When team movies first became a thing, I wondered how so many characters would be handled in the space of one motion picture. The answer is, either well—as with The Avengers—or badly. Suicide Squad is about halfway there, and would have been better had they limited the numbers a little. Katana’s not the only one who got shorted: It would have been nice to see more background on Croc, Joker, and a character who begged for more spotlight, Diablo.
In the end, three characters pretty much stole the show:
The Joker started out a little weak, but got better. Jarod Leto’s version isn’t up to Nicholson or Ledger (or Mark Hamill), but he does well with a small role, and hints of things to come.
Will Smith has had more hits than misses as an actor, and shows why as the hired assassin Deadshot. Although well aware he’s a bad guy, Deadshot has his own brand of honor and his own source of humanity, and Smith gives him depth. This team effort might even be thought of as a Will Smith movie, if not for …
Harley Quinn. The bad guys might be weak and their motivations confusing, the cast overpopulated, and where the heck were the heroes during the final fight? There were at least four future Justice Leaguers running around, somewhere. Was the Batmobile stuck in traffic?
But the price of admission was worth it, just to see Margot Robbie as Harley Quinn. (Okay, it was stimulus Tuesday, but still.) Harley tears up the screen with a sexy insanity that really has to be seen to be believed: laughing at the world, gleefully violent, grieving, pulling herself together, sometimes all at the same time. Boy, does she ever deserve her own movie, with or without Joker.
Most of the pro reviewers made good points, enough that I lowered my score half a point. Yes, there are major problems with Suicide Squad. And yet, to coin a phrase, why so serious? Just let your twelve year old self out, and enjoy.
My score:
Entertainment value: 3 M&M’s. Just suspend your disbelief and go for it. It’s a superhero movie, for crying out loud.
Oscar Potential: 1 M&M. And not even a good one – it’s like a peanut butter M&M. Truth is, many of the performances were very good—but it’s a superhero movie, and the Academy doesn’t do superhero movies.
Luckily, Suicide Squad is a good comic book movie—but not great. Character motivations and plot can be murky, and as usual there are logic questions.
So why did I like it so much? My usual reasons: Characters and humor.
Rumor has it the movie was originally a lot darker, which to me is the kiss of death for a summer-type popcorn flick. It’s people in costumes breaking things; if you’re not having fun, what’s the point? But in the finished product, the humor works for the characters.
And what characters they are, as DC puts together major and minor villains, with hardly a hero in sight. (Batman has a glorified cameo, while a few future Justice League members are glimpsed.) There is Katana, but she’s not your grandpa’s hero: She’s female, not American, and seems to take some delight in killing people with her soul-stealing sword.
On a related note, Katana didn’t get enough screen time. I’d dearly like her to headline her own movie—or at least get an expanded role with a future team.
The setup: A group of villains is assembled for wet work—to go in where the heroes can’t and do bad things the heroes won’t. If it turn out badly? Hey, they’re villains, and over there is a bus to throw them under. (I thought about that when a bus actually appeared in the movie.) In the end the group bonds—more quickly than makes sense—as they face a world-ending threat from one of their own.
When team movies first became a thing, I wondered how so many characters would be handled in the space of one motion picture. The answer is, either well—as with The Avengers—or badly. Suicide Squad is about halfway there, and would have been better had they limited the numbers a little. Katana’s not the only one who got shorted: It would have been nice to see more background on Croc, Joker, and a character who begged for more spotlight, Diablo.
In the end, three characters pretty much stole the show:
The Joker started out a little weak, but got better. Jarod Leto’s version isn’t up to Nicholson or Ledger (or Mark Hamill), but he does well with a small role, and hints of things to come.
Will Smith has had more hits than misses as an actor, and shows why as the hired assassin Deadshot. Although well aware he’s a bad guy, Deadshot has his own brand of honor and his own source of humanity, and Smith gives him depth. This team effort might even be thought of as a Will Smith movie, if not for …
Harley Quinn. The bad guys might be weak and their motivations confusing, the cast overpopulated, and where the heck were the heroes during the final fight? There were at least four future Justice Leaguers running around, somewhere. Was the Batmobile stuck in traffic?
But the price of admission was worth it, just to see Margot Robbie as Harley Quinn. (Okay, it was stimulus Tuesday, but still.) Harley tears up the screen with a sexy insanity that really has to be seen to be believed: laughing at the world, gleefully violent, grieving, pulling herself together, sometimes all at the same time. Boy, does she ever deserve her own movie, with or without Joker.
Most of the pro reviewers made good points, enough that I lowered my score half a point. Yes, there are major problems with Suicide Squad. And yet, to coin a phrase, why so serious? Just let your twelve year old self out, and enjoy.
My score:
Entertainment value: 3 M&M’s. Just suspend your disbelief and go for it. It’s a superhero movie, for crying out loud.
Oscar Potential: 1 M&M. And not even a good one – it’s like a peanut butter M&M. Truth is, many of the performances were very good—but it’s a superhero movie, and the Academy doesn’t do superhero movies.
August 13, 2016
Writing Confidence, or Lack Thereof
This week I'm guest posting on author DM Yates' blog, where I talk about an author's confidence ... or lack of it.
https://dmyatesmusings.blogspot.com/2...
"Your writing is worthless, and your feet stink. I know, I was just down there polishing my pitchfork.”
https://dmyatesmusings.blogspot.com/2...
"Your writing is worthless, and your feet stink. I know, I was just down there polishing my pitchfork.”
August 12, 2016
An Olympic Undertaking
SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK
Despite being on opposite sides of the world, there are similarities between this year’s Olympics in Rio, and the Games two years ago in Russia. There was all sorts of controversy about whether the host cities would be ready: cost overruns, health concerns, not to mention the relative health of the entire host nation.
There’s also a parallel paradox. In Rio we have the summer Olympics being held during what is, for them, winter. On the other hand, the winter Olympics of 2014 were held in Sochi—a summer resort.
Everyone was already aware of the Zika virus, one of the least popular South American exports ever. They couldn’t have sent us more coffee? One athlete’s wife had his sperm frozen, just in case he contracted the virus and they still wanted more children. That by itself is both tragic and the springboard for at least a few good jokes, and several dozen bad ones.
I don’t know where to start.
Even Mother Nature took part, sending a 4.6 meter freak wave in to cover a Rio sidewalk, street … oh, and the Olympic Broadcast Services building. 4.6 meters? That’s about 15 feet, or 5 feet, or half a foot … I dunno, I’m American.
Meanwhile, some Rio protesters did the unthinkable as the Olympic torch passed through their area: They put it out. Probably with contaminated water. And what were these awful sleezebags protesting? Well, it turns out they were teachers who haven’t been paid in two months, thanks to the government spending money on … the Olympics.
One thing the government spent money on was a live jaguar, which appeared next to the torch in a Brazilian ceremony, as a symbol of … I don’t know … zoos? As if the Olympics wasn’t a zoo all by itself. Then the jaguar got away from its handlers and headed toward an armed soldier, and I don’t have to tell you how that ended.
What the soldier should have gone after was the drug-resistant super-bacteria found growing in the ocean, just off Rio beaches. A gun might be needed to kill this stuff, which apparently got there from local hospital sewage. Don’t drink the water? Forget that—the water will drink you.
Not long before the Olympics started, a mutilated body was found on the beach, as in the beach and water where some of the events take place. Killed by what? A jaguar? Super-bacteria? Disgruntled teachers? There’s a lesson.
Meanwhile, the Olympic village featured new entertainment for the athletes, such as a rousing game of “escape the natural gas leak”, and the more rushed hobby of “find a working toilet”. There were some records set with that one. And when you figure some of the water was contaminated by human waste, they may have needed all the toilets they could get.
I could go on, but the poop/body filled water and lack of toilets is making me queasy. We’ll end with the fire that started in the basement of the Village’s Australian quarters, which was not caused by them putting shrimp on the Barbie. Apparently the real cause was a discarded cigarette, which set fire to rubbish left over by contractors, because it takes more than a child to raise a village.
So who was smoking? The contractors? Or the thieves who made off with belongings of the Australian team during the fire evacuation? Some of the items stolen include special shirts designed to protect the wearer from the Zika virus, so maybe it was self-preservation.
I think the Australians should consider themselves fortunate. After all, they lived through both the theft and the fire—and the fire alarms weren’t working.
Besides, they didn’t get beaten up in an armed robbery, like one medalist was while celebrating his bronze on the beach … the judo medalist. Maybe the gold medalist would have done better.
In fact, this is one Olympics where they should consider handing out gold medals for survival.
Despite being on opposite sides of the world, there are similarities between this year’s Olympics in Rio, and the Games two years ago in Russia. There was all sorts of controversy about whether the host cities would be ready: cost overruns, health concerns, not to mention the relative health of the entire host nation.
There’s also a parallel paradox. In Rio we have the summer Olympics being held during what is, for them, winter. On the other hand, the winter Olympics of 2014 were held in Sochi—a summer resort.
Everyone was already aware of the Zika virus, one of the least popular South American exports ever. They couldn’t have sent us more coffee? One athlete’s wife had his sperm frozen, just in case he contracted the virus and they still wanted more children. That by itself is both tragic and the springboard for at least a few good jokes, and several dozen bad ones.
I don’t know where to start.
Even Mother Nature took part, sending a 4.6 meter freak wave in to cover a Rio sidewalk, street … oh, and the Olympic Broadcast Services building. 4.6 meters? That’s about 15 feet, or 5 feet, or half a foot … I dunno, I’m American.
Meanwhile, some Rio protesters did the unthinkable as the Olympic torch passed through their area: They put it out. Probably with contaminated water. And what were these awful sleezebags protesting? Well, it turns out they were teachers who haven’t been paid in two months, thanks to the government spending money on … the Olympics.
One thing the government spent money on was a live jaguar, which appeared next to the torch in a Brazilian ceremony, as a symbol of … I don’t know … zoos? As if the Olympics wasn’t a zoo all by itself. Then the jaguar got away from its handlers and headed toward an armed soldier, and I don’t have to tell you how that ended.
What the soldier should have gone after was the drug-resistant super-bacteria found growing in the ocean, just off Rio beaches. A gun might be needed to kill this stuff, which apparently got there from local hospital sewage. Don’t drink the water? Forget that—the water will drink you.
Not long before the Olympics started, a mutilated body was found on the beach, as in the beach and water where some of the events take place. Killed by what? A jaguar? Super-bacteria? Disgruntled teachers? There’s a lesson.
Meanwhile, the Olympic village featured new entertainment for the athletes, such as a rousing game of “escape the natural gas leak”, and the more rushed hobby of “find a working toilet”. There were some records set with that one. And when you figure some of the water was contaminated by human waste, they may have needed all the toilets they could get.
I could go on, but the poop/body filled water and lack of toilets is making me queasy. We’ll end with the fire that started in the basement of the Village’s Australian quarters, which was not caused by them putting shrimp on the Barbie. Apparently the real cause was a discarded cigarette, which set fire to rubbish left over by contractors, because it takes more than a child to raise a village.
So who was smoking? The contractors? Or the thieves who made off with belongings of the Australian team during the fire evacuation? Some of the items stolen include special shirts designed to protect the wearer from the Zika virus, so maybe it was self-preservation.
I think the Australians should consider themselves fortunate. After all, they lived through both the theft and the fire—and the fire alarms weren’t working.
Besides, they didn’t get beaten up in an armed robbery, like one medalist was while celebrating his bronze on the beach … the judo medalist. Maybe the gold medalist would have done better.
In fact, this is one Olympics where they should consider handing out gold medals for survival.
August 10, 2016
An Appeal to Your Funny Bone
Here we are with another appeal for everyone to pick up a copy or two of Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All, and by “pick up” I mean buy, because shoplifting’s illegal. At ten bucks for a hard copy, it’s less than a price of a large Starbucks triple latte coco-café supreme with extra cinnamon and that foam stuff, with a muffin on the side.
(I have no idea if that’s true: I don’t drink coffee, and my doctor won’t let me eat muffins.)
We need to sell a few more copies to justify the year we spent researching and writing. I know what you’re thinking: “You spent a whole year researching a humor book?”
Okay, when you put it that way, it does seem a little silly. But if not for the research, I wouldn't have discovered some neat stuff:
How would I have found out that Indiana was the site of a Revolutionary War naval battle?
How else would I have had the chance to photograph Lincoln’s well, Roseanne’s house, or a coffin in a cave?
How would I have learned about Elvis Presley’s connection to the country’s first train robbery?
How else would I know that George Washington’s (alleged) illegitimate son moved Mount Vernon to Indiana?
Most important of all, how would I have discovered the nickname for Indiana residents may be related to missing body parts?
I know what you’re thinking: “Mark, are you trying to tease us into reading the book?”
Yes. Yes, I am.
So for the funniest historical humor book ever written by someone living in my house (I can’t confirm that—I have no idea what the dog wrote before we got him), it wouldn’t kill you to read a preview here: https://www.amazon.com/Mark-R.-Hunter..., or get it straight from me at www.markrhunter.com.
Probably it wouldn’t. Do you have any preexisting conditions?
(I have no idea if that’s true: I don’t drink coffee, and my doctor won’t let me eat muffins.)
We need to sell a few more copies to justify the year we spent researching and writing. I know what you’re thinking: “You spent a whole year researching a humor book?”
Okay, when you put it that way, it does seem a little silly. But if not for the research, I wouldn't have discovered some neat stuff:
How would I have found out that Indiana was the site of a Revolutionary War naval battle?
How else would I have had the chance to photograph Lincoln’s well, Roseanne’s house, or a coffin in a cave?
How would I have learned about Elvis Presley’s connection to the country’s first train robbery?
How else would I know that George Washington’s (alleged) illegitimate son moved Mount Vernon to Indiana?
Most important of all, how would I have discovered the nickname for Indiana residents may be related to missing body parts?
I know what you’re thinking: “Mark, are you trying to tease us into reading the book?”
Yes. Yes, I am.
So for the funniest historical humor book ever written by someone living in my house (I can’t confirm that—I have no idea what the dog wrote before we got him), it wouldn’t kill you to read a preview here: https://www.amazon.com/Mark-R.-Hunter..., or get it straight from me at www.markrhunter.com.
Probably it wouldn’t. Do you have any preexisting conditions?
August 9, 2016
books and antique fire apparatus
Albion’s (Indiana) antique fire apparatus on display:
http://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2016/...
They were also selling copies of Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights at the ALL-IN Block Party
http://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2016/...
They were also selling copies of Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights at the ALL-IN Block Party
August 6, 2016
Olympic Problems? Remember Sochi?
Shocking, that there are so many problems besetting this year’s Olympics in Rio de Janeiro. Or is it? Here’s my column from two years ago, when there was just as much talk about the Olympics in Sochi, Russia:
http://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2014/...
“In one hotel, the staff instructed people not to wash their faces with the water because ‘it contains something very dangerous’.”
http://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2014/...
“In one hotel, the staff instructed people not to wash their faces with the water because ‘it contains something very dangerous’.”
