Mark R. Hunter's Blog, page 73
May 8, 2016
The Proof is in the Printing
Emily’s files for Hoosier Hysterical have met printing requirement—so with any luck, before the end of the week we should have our proof copy of the book!
Which I’m going to read all over again, all the way through, before we do a print run or convert it for e-books. Sometimes you can find stuff on the printed page that you missed on a screen. I’m sure the final product won’t be perfect … but it sure as heck won’t be sloppy, either.
Which I’m going to read all over again, all the way through, before we do a print run or convert it for e-books. Sometimes you can find stuff on the printed page that you missed on a screen. I’m sure the final product won’t be perfect … but it sure as heck won’t be sloppy, either.
May 7, 2016
ALL-IN Author Blurbs
For anyone who's expressed interest in taking part in the author appearance on the Noble County Courthouse square June 25, please get me a short author's blurb if you haven't already. Just a couple of lines would be best; you can also send me a longer one if you wish, which I'll put up on social media later. For press releases they prefer shorter, considering we have over a dozen authors signed up!
The list, as I have it right now, includes:
Bentz, Lindsay
Bender, Carol
Crandall, Dawn
Emenhiser, Sheli
Friskney,Beth
Hayden,Nick
Hunter, Emily
Hunter, Mark
Lochamire,Ingrid
Marchand,Nathan
Robins, Rita
Smith, Greg
Thuillard, M. Susan
Wilson, Belinda
If you're interested and don't see yourself on this list, contact me immediately! As in right away, as in time's a wastin'. There are a few people who I've heard about but haven't heard from; it's also possibly, in the madhouse that was this spring, that I've missed someone.
I don't know how they're going to manage this many authors at the same time; I heard some talk awhile back about scheduling them in shifts, say half a day, rather than over the whole thing. If that turns into a thing I'll contact you about it right away. I suspect that we're going to be very limited on table space, so plan accordingly.
If you're a reader/fan/family member/interested passerby/major publisher, we hope to see you there!
The list, as I have it right now, includes:
Bentz, Lindsay
Bender, Carol
Crandall, Dawn
Emenhiser, Sheli
Friskney,Beth
Hayden,Nick
Hunter, Emily
Hunter, Mark
Lochamire,Ingrid
Marchand,Nathan
Robins, Rita
Smith, Greg
Thuillard, M. Susan
Wilson, Belinda
If you're interested and don't see yourself on this list, contact me immediately! As in right away, as in time's a wastin'. There are a few people who I've heard about but haven't heard from; it's also possibly, in the madhouse that was this spring, that I've missed someone.
I don't know how they're going to manage this many authors at the same time; I heard some talk awhile back about scheduling them in shifts, say half a day, rather than over the whole thing. If that turns into a thing I'll contact you about it right away. I suspect that we're going to be very limited on table space, so plan accordingly.
If you're a reader/fan/family member/interested passerby/major publisher, we hope to see you there!
May 5, 2016
Seven, Seven, Seven
I was tagged by Mari Collier on Facebook to do a seven, seven, seven. That means posting seven lines from the seventh page of a work in progress, and then tagging seven other writers. I don’t do the tagging thing because I’m a buzzkill, so I’m doing a seven seven, which equals fourteen, which is my favorite number. So there.
This is from my boring old history book, which is also my humor book, which I’m currently polishing: Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All. Turns out the lines are right at the end of “Forward: The Part Where I Explain Myself”:
_________________________
As hinted at earlier, the name Indiana is thought to mean “Land of Indians”, for reasons that are probably obvious. Presently the capital of the state is the imaginatively named Indianapolis. “Polis” is a Greek word for city, or city-state. Thus, Indianapolis is the city of Indiana. We’re a plainspoken people.
On an unrelated note, “Acropolis” means high city. So does “Denver”.
So sit back and learn something fun about history. When you’re done, read this book.
This is from my boring old history book, which is also my humor book, which I’m currently polishing: Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All. Turns out the lines are right at the end of “Forward: The Part Where I Explain Myself”:
_________________________
As hinted at earlier, the name Indiana is thought to mean “Land of Indians”, for reasons that are probably obvious. Presently the capital of the state is the imaginatively named Indianapolis. “Polis” is a Greek word for city, or city-state. Thus, Indianapolis is the city of Indiana. We’re a plainspoken people.
On an unrelated note, “Acropolis” means high city. So does “Denver”.
So sit back and learn something fun about history. When you’re done, read this book.
April 30, 2016
A Flowery State Debate
Still working hard on getting the next book ready ... but I needed a pause to get my column out for http://www.4countymall.com/.
SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK
Ah, spring! That time of year when we give up complaining about one set of annoyances, in favor of complaining about another set of annoyances. It’s kind of like the aftermath of a Congressional election.
Here in northern Indiana, spring starts sometime between mid-March and late May. Signs of spring include hungry insects; excited weathermen; and columns of smoke, from people whose first action on shedding their winter coats is to go outside and burn something. Sometimes it’s even what they intended to burn.
But it’s not winter, and that’s something. Have you already forgotten the spinning tires, the blue fingers, the loss of feeling in exposed skin? Winter kills, man. Has anyone ever died from spring weather, or bee stings?
Okay, bad examples.
One of my favorite signs of spring is flowers. It used to be bikinis, but I don’t have the body for them anymore. When I was younger I didn’t think much about them (flowers—I thought about bikinis a lot). Now I quite literally like to stop and smell the flowers, a harmless occupation if you’re not the guy walking behind me. When I was researching my upcoming book, Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All …
Whew. Let me catch my breath—long subtitle. Whose idea was that? Oh, mine? Well, it’s not too long.
Anyway, I discovered while researching Indiana history that our state has suffered long bouts of infighting over, believe it or not, flowers. Specifically the state flower. Like most states, our leaders spent long hours deciding what should represent us. Indiana has a state beverage, stone, poem, rifle—even airplane. (You have to read the book to find out what they are. Or you could go to an encyclopedia, but I’d prefer you read the book.)
When it comes to the flower, in 1913 the Indiana General Assembly declared it to be the carnation, which is a nice flower—and also a good way to identify your blind date across a crowded room. Unfortunately, as someone pointed out after we made it the state flower, the carnation isn’t native to Indiana.
So a decade later the General Assembly picked the tulip tree blossom, instead. It only took ten years. Then, in 1931, they traded that in for a zinnia. Zinnia? It’s a flower, apparently, and related to the sunflower tribe within the daisy family, and isn’t Google grand? That’s right, sunflowers are related to daisies, and zinnia is their illegitimate child who someone named while still on labor pain medications.
Rumors swirled like blossoms that the debate was dominated by an influential farmer. His crop happened to be … you guessed it … no, not corn! Zinnias. But at least that settled it.
Well, that settled it until 1957. The dogwood had gained popularity, and it looked like that might be our new state flower, until one of the representatives stuck his flowery hand into the debate. That rep was also a farmer, only his product was … the peony. At least this time they first confirmed the peony was native to Indiana.
Oh, wait … no they didn’t.
Still, perhaps sensing that this was silly even by political body standards, the General Assembly stuck to their guns—or rather, their pistils. Little Magnoliophyta joke, there. The dogwood lost its bark, while as a consolation prize, the tulip became the state tree. The carnation? Never heard from again.
And what of the Crocus? The Dwarf Iris? The Striped Squill? Trick question: Those are all B-list Batman villains.
This all may seem a bit silly, but hey—we even have our own state soil. Yeah, the Miami, described as a brown silt loam. At least, that’s the dirt I dug up.
If I spend entire sections of Hoosier Hysterical discussing such silly subjects, it should be remembered that I wasn’t going for the profound … unless you mean profoundly silly. Silly it might be, but there really were raging debates over the state flower. It’s not like our nickname, The Hoosier State, which was pretty much agreed on right from the beginning.
Although come to think of it, I spend an entire section on the word Hoosier, too.
As for the flower, I’m personally a fan of the lilac. We have two lilac bushes in our back yard … well, trees now, but don’t judge me on my lack of landscaping care. Also don’t judge me on the fact that, in the short lilac bloom period, I like to spread the blossoms through the house to drive out that we-really-need-to-spring-clean winter smell.
Then they’re gone all too soon, sometimes before the colder days of spring are through. I suppose that’s a good enough reason why the lilac isn’t Indiana’s state flower … not to mention it’s not native to Indiana.
Of course … neither are most Hoosiers.
SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK
Ah, spring! That time of year when we give up complaining about one set of annoyances, in favor of complaining about another set of annoyances. It’s kind of like the aftermath of a Congressional election.
Here in northern Indiana, spring starts sometime between mid-March and late May. Signs of spring include hungry insects; excited weathermen; and columns of smoke, from people whose first action on shedding their winter coats is to go outside and burn something. Sometimes it’s even what they intended to burn.
But it’s not winter, and that’s something. Have you already forgotten the spinning tires, the blue fingers, the loss of feeling in exposed skin? Winter kills, man. Has anyone ever died from spring weather, or bee stings?
Okay, bad examples.
One of my favorite signs of spring is flowers. It used to be bikinis, but I don’t have the body for them anymore. When I was younger I didn’t think much about them (flowers—I thought about bikinis a lot). Now I quite literally like to stop and smell the flowers, a harmless occupation if you’re not the guy walking behind me. When I was researching my upcoming book, Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All …
Whew. Let me catch my breath—long subtitle. Whose idea was that? Oh, mine? Well, it’s not too long.
Anyway, I discovered while researching Indiana history that our state has suffered long bouts of infighting over, believe it or not, flowers. Specifically the state flower. Like most states, our leaders spent long hours deciding what should represent us. Indiana has a state beverage, stone, poem, rifle—even airplane. (You have to read the book to find out what they are. Or you could go to an encyclopedia, but I’d prefer you read the book.)
When it comes to the flower, in 1913 the Indiana General Assembly declared it to be the carnation, which is a nice flower—and also a good way to identify your blind date across a crowded room. Unfortunately, as someone pointed out after we made it the state flower, the carnation isn’t native to Indiana.
So a decade later the General Assembly picked the tulip tree blossom, instead. It only took ten years. Then, in 1931, they traded that in for a zinnia. Zinnia? It’s a flower, apparently, and related to the sunflower tribe within the daisy family, and isn’t Google grand? That’s right, sunflowers are related to daisies, and zinnia is their illegitimate child who someone named while still on labor pain medications.
Rumors swirled like blossoms that the debate was dominated by an influential farmer. His crop happened to be … you guessed it … no, not corn! Zinnias. But at least that settled it.
Well, that settled it until 1957. The dogwood had gained popularity, and it looked like that might be our new state flower, until one of the representatives stuck his flowery hand into the debate. That rep was also a farmer, only his product was … the peony. At least this time they first confirmed the peony was native to Indiana.
Oh, wait … no they didn’t.
Still, perhaps sensing that this was silly even by political body standards, the General Assembly stuck to their guns—or rather, their pistils. Little Magnoliophyta joke, there. The dogwood lost its bark, while as a consolation prize, the tulip became the state tree. The carnation? Never heard from again.
And what of the Crocus? The Dwarf Iris? The Striped Squill? Trick question: Those are all B-list Batman villains.
This all may seem a bit silly, but hey—we even have our own state soil. Yeah, the Miami, described as a brown silt loam. At least, that’s the dirt I dug up.
If I spend entire sections of Hoosier Hysterical discussing such silly subjects, it should be remembered that I wasn’t going for the profound … unless you mean profoundly silly. Silly it might be, but there really were raging debates over the state flower. It’s not like our nickname, The Hoosier State, which was pretty much agreed on right from the beginning.
Although come to think of it, I spend an entire section on the word Hoosier, too.
As for the flower, I’m personally a fan of the lilac. We have two lilac bushes in our back yard … well, trees now, but don’t judge me on my lack of landscaping care. Also don’t judge me on the fact that, in the short lilac bloom period, I like to spread the blossoms through the house to drive out that we-really-need-to-spring-clean winter smell.
Then they’re gone all too soon, sometimes before the colder days of spring are through. I suppose that’s a good enough reason why the lilac isn’t Indiana’s state flower … not to mention it’s not native to Indiana.
Of course … neither are most Hoosiers.
April 18, 2016
50 Authors Drawing Winner
I’ve never done an online book giveaway until my recent “50 Authors from 50 States” guest blog. When it came time to pick a winner from the commenters, I figured there must be some random drawing generator online somewhere. But it turns out many people still just draw names out of a hat.
So I did. Well, I didn’t—to keep it fair, I had a friend draw one, and since I’m not a hat person it came out of a bowl. The name, not the friend.
Just the same, congrats to Sally Weigold Charette! Her name emerged … just the first name, but there was only one Sally on the list. Sally will receive a copy of Hoosier Hysteria: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving at All, as soon as it comes out in May. Sally, all I need from you is a mailing address (which I might already have, but I’m lazy.) I hope you like it!
My thanks to Annette Snyder for hosting me! Her ongoing blog of authors from all over can be found here:
http://annettesnyder.blogspot.com/
So I did. Well, I didn’t—to keep it fair, I had a friend draw one, and since I’m not a hat person it came out of a bowl. The name, not the friend.
Just the same, congrats to Sally Weigold Charette! Her name emerged … just the first name, but there was only one Sally on the list. Sally will receive a copy of Hoosier Hysteria: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving at All, as soon as it comes out in May. Sally, all I need from you is a mailing address (which I might already have, but I’m lazy.) I hope you like it!
My thanks to Annette Snyder for hosting me! Her ongoing blog of authors from all over can be found here:
http://annettesnyder.blogspot.com/
April 12, 2016
discrepency
Hoosier Hysterical was a 41,000 manuscript, and I added a thousand words while going through Emily's edits.
Now I've written 5,000 words worth of photo captions ... and I'm not done. So, at least no one can complain that it's too short.
Now I've written 5,000 words worth of photo captions ... and I'm not done. So, at least no one can complain that it's too short.
April 11, 2016
Crunch Time
You won’t be hearing much from me for a while (you decide whether that’s good or bad). I’m working on captions for Hoosier Hysteria, for the same photos Emily is busy editing and inserting into the book.
I didn’t original plan to illustrate the book, but hey—people like pictures. And there will be a lot of them: I’ve already written 70 captions, with more to come. We still plan to publish in May, so what little I post in the next few weeks will mostly be about the project.
I'm dancing as fast as I can.
I didn’t original plan to illustrate the book, but hey—people like pictures. And there will be a lot of them: I’ve already written 70 captions, with more to come. We still plan to publish in May, so what little I post in the next few weeks will mostly be about the project.
I'm dancing as fast as I can.
April 7, 2016
Tumbling makes me Flickr
Did you know I have Tumblr and Flickr accounts? What—you didn’t?
That’s okay … neither did I.
Apparently I set up the Flickr account in June of 2009, based on the “Welcome to Flickr” message I found when I, um, stumbled upon it recently. I have no clue when I opened a Tumblr account. It was probably one of those long ago “I don’t know what I’m doing on the internet, but I’m doing it” things.
Anyway, you’ll find little of interest there: I’ll probably repost stuff I already put up elsewhere. Just the same, if you’re interested in following along you’ll find me on Flickr as Ozma914, and on Tumblr at http://ozma914.tumblr.com/
That’s okay … neither did I.
Apparently I set up the Flickr account in June of 2009, based on the “Welcome to Flickr” message I found when I, um, stumbled upon it recently. I have no clue when I opened a Tumblr account. It was probably one of those long ago “I don’t know what I’m doing on the internet, but I’m doing it” things.
Anyway, you’ll find little of interest there: I’ll probably repost stuff I already put up elsewhere. Just the same, if you’re interested in following along you’ll find me on Flickr as Ozma914, and on Tumblr at http://ozma914.tumblr.com/
April 6, 2016
Indiana’s up with a book giveaway at 50 Authors for 50 States
http://annettesnyder.blogspot.com/201...
I’m guesting over at 50 Authors for 50 States this month, with a lighthearted look at Indiana monuments, parks, and history. Comment on the post to get entered for a shot at a free copy of our next book, Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving at All.
I’m guesting over at 50 Authors for 50 States this month, with a lighthearted look at Indiana monuments, parks, and history. Comment on the post to get entered for a shot at a free copy of our next book, Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving at All.
April 4, 2016
Video, photos of our wonderful Indiana Spring
Ah, April in Indiana. First there's all the property damage from wind, of course. The next day we drive through a sleet squall ... then that night we have what I can only describe as a snowstorm. Then the next day we walk the dog around town while it's 55 degrees--at midnight--and my allergies are acting up. When we get up the next morning it's in the 30s, and our sinuses are exploding.
Here's Emily's video and my photos of the snowstorm,
http://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2016/...
And the video on my brand new youtube:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R5H8n...
Here's Emily's video and my photos of the snowstorm,
http://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2016/...
And the video on my brand new youtube:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R5H8n...
