Edward Lorn's Blog, page 115

Chik-Fil-A

This is not the Ruminating On I mentioned I would be posting yesterday; that comes later. I just wanted to post this rant, because my Facebook folks might have missed it. 

They had to close the Chik-Fil-A across the bay from me last night because they ran out of food. Hundreds of people showed up to a place that normally doesn’t see more than 60-90 customers on a Wednesday. I received all this information last night while watching The Olympics, not the news, The Olympics. A commercial came on advertising the news, and that’s when they rambled off said info.

Now, I might have been upset, bouncing off the walls angry even, but I wasn’t. I just laughed and shook my head. Why? The population of Mobile, Alabama is 194,419. I checked. Now, there are three Mobile Chik-Fil-A locations, but only one of them closed. I called. So, let’s do a little math. Word problem, anyone?

If you have 194,419 people, and “hundreds” show up closing one location, but the other two locations are able to stay open, we can theorize that the other two locations did not receive as much business. Correct? Yep. Let’s move on. So, the most, “hundreds” can mean would be 999, anything after that would be a thousand, or thousands. If (and I say If because we know the others did not) the other two locations received the same amount of customers, that total would come to 2,997.

999 x 3 = 2,997

194,419 – 2,997 = 191,422

You could argue that some people were broke, but Chik-Fil-A was giving away free fries, so that wouldn’t deter the masses. You could argue that 2,997 is quite a lot of people, but that number is grossly exaggerated and far too high. The fact that the other two restaurants were kept open tells me they never ran out of food because their business wasn’t as booming as the one they did have to close.

That means, at least 191,422 people did not go out to support Chik-Fil-A yesterday. I know they could never serve that many people, but my point is, the other two locations showed no signs of closing.

This crap about Chik-Fil-A “winning” has been blown out of proportion. There are far more of us that believe people should be happy, not hated. That fact alone makes me smile. I look back on the protests at schools at the beginning of the fall of segregation, those sullen faces in the crowd, those enraged, belligerent bigots spouting their hate speak, and I see the faces of those standing in line yesterday at Chik-Fil-A. These hate-filled people, trying there best to hold on to one last shred of a broken ideal, clamoring for chicken, feeding Chik-Fil-A’s pocket along with their faces.

Onward wayward sheep.

This has been a public service announcement from someone with half a brain. Good day.

E.

Ruminating On: Tenacity

Failure.

What a strong word. That’s why I put it up there all by its lonesome. I sit back and let that word play over in my mind, wondering exactly how many things I’ve failed at in this life. The list is ever expanding, so I won’t bore you with details. Instead, I’ll tell you about a recent failure of mine. So recent, in fact, that my ass is still burning over it.

A week and two days ago, my daughter gave me an ultimatum. To add some perspective, she’s seven, loves her father very much, and is disappointed on a regular basis because Daddy seems to be always busy writing. Her challenge was simple, or so I thought. She was giving me a week to finish my new book (that was extended by two days because she requested that I play with her this weekend). After that, she would be absconding with my laptop for the course of two weeks. No internet. No writing. Nothing but fun and games involving a daddy and his Tum-Tum.  I was already 35k into the new book, so I figured, Hell, why not. After all, I wrote Bay’s End in just under two weeks, and that book was 55k. Having such a head start on the new one, I knew it could be done. And easily. Boy, was I fucking wrong.

I wrote like a madman. You see, part of the stipulations of my daughter’s ultimatum stated that I was to be left alone so that I could write to my heart’s content. Everyone in the house acquiesced, holding up their end of the bargain. It was all up to me. That’s when the quagmire that is writing by the seat of your pants reared its ugly little head. I became stuck in a bog of my own making. Trudging through the muck, I found myself deviating from the course. So much so, that I wrote 23,500 words of pure, absolute nonsense. That novella length section is now in cyber prison and will not likely see parole anytime soon. You might be saying to yourself, “E., come on… it can’t be that bad.” Well, screw you. It is. Why? Because I say so. It’s my book, I’ll cry if I want to.

In the end, I failed. Today is the final day and I’ve only managed another eleven thousand words. This isn’t my first failure, but it hurts just the same. Honestly, the feeling in my guts couldn’t get any worse. This is where the title of this Ruminating On comes into play. I love being tested, but I refuse to be bested. I will take my two weeks off because I made a promise. But, I will return to this dirty motherfucker with bells on. I’m giving myself another seven days after this mandatory vacation. It’s called tenacity, and I’m so damn full of the shit is pouring out of my ears.

When I was younger, I was told everyday, without fail, that I’d become a failure at all things. It was my father’s way of telling me he loved me and that he wanted me to be just like him. Ever since I realized the man had no control over my future, I promised myself that even when I did fail, I would be the first one to recognize and correct that fact. Failure is nothing but an opportunity to try again. To be better. Because, “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!”

Three of you got that quote. The rest of you need to look up Stuart Smalley.

Anyway, I’m going to fail. It’s a given. But guess what? You are too. That is the real point of this week’s blog. Whether it be a rejection slip from a publisher, or a job application that didn’t pay off, you’re not going to succeed every time. But failure should not be your focus. Your goal should be staying tenacious. Keep on fighting the good fight and press forward into the fray. Let the bullets from your detractors sail over your limboing form like your name is Neo, and dude, you know Kung Fu. The people that say you can’t do something probably aren’t doing it themselves. The ones that laugh at you when you’re down are normally beneath you anyway, so, a duck’s back plus water. If you get my drift. The only real and true failure is giving up. Remember that above all. You can keep retrying, restarting and reimagining things until they work for you. So what if you failed the first time. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t appreciate the successes as much.

In summation, I want you to fail. A lot. I welcome failure because I learn from it. You should too.

I’ll see you folks in two weeks.

Tum-Tum, make it so!

E.

Ruminating On: Writing Under The Influence

(This one is dedicated to Chelle. I finally got to your Ruminating On idea. Love you, baby )

Ernest Hemingway once said, “A man does not exist until he is drunk.” But for some authors, their stories do not exist until they have imbibed. I can’t say that it works for me, as I’m barely a writer when I’m sober. Still, authors that can spin elaborate webs while shitfaced and stoned like the biblical whores of old, interest me. Going back to Hemingway’s quote, I believe he was speaking of the lack of inhibitions while intoxicated. I could be wrong, but that’s how I’m going to take those words. Because, only once you have known no boundaries, can you truly know who you are inside.

Stephen King has repented, and some say his stories suffered because he kicked all his addictions (at least that’s what he tells the public, because no one knows for sure but old King, himself). The most amazing story from King about his imbibing concerns The Shining. He doesn’t remember writing the book. I have always wondered, how does someone stay so fucked up, as to forget an entire novel. Then there are stories of him sitting at his typewriter, bloody cotton balls hanging from his nose while he works on another one of the books he would soon forget penning, Tabby is at his side trying to pull him away, but King just responds, “Let me finish this one paragraph!” (If I misquote, I’m sorry, but it’s been a while since I read the article). I have dealt with this myself. But instead of my wife trying to pull me away, it’s my daughter filling Tabby’s shoes. All the while, I’m telling her, “Let me just finish this one thought.” And then that one thought turns into countless others and the battle wages on. Finally, my daughter disappears. It’s hours later, and I’m wondering where the hell all my time went. My beautiful little girl has found something else to do, or it’s almost bedtime, and I’ve missed my chance. I know I’m villain in this story, but that doesn’t change the fact I pick it back up the next day and start all over again.

I do not write under the influence, my writing is the influence. Writing a story gets me high, far beyond the reaches of any other drug I’ve come in contact with. Mind you, I’m one of the ones out here in the world that hasn’t partaken in drugs such as Cocaine, Heroin, Speed, or even the light stuff, like Mary Jane and Whippits (or however you spell Co2 taken orally). I did, however, huff gas one afternoon when I was twelve because a brain damaged buddy of mine had seen his dad doing it and thought it would be “just killer to try!” I got sick and painted his shoes with the remnants of a bologna sandwich I’d had for lunch.

Now, I kinda, sorta, just lied to you. I do take narcotic pain medicine on a regular basis for a back injury I acquired about eight years ago. I’ve had three surgeries to try and correct it, but I’m so heavy, until I lose the weight, that disc will forever come popping back out. The thing is, I don’t get high off the stuff anymore, though it made me rather speedy and talkative in the beginning. I’ve been taking it so long that it’s just another day, another pill. When I dose and write, it’s no different from when I don’t dose. I’ve done side by side comparisons, drugged or not, and the writing is the same. Though when I edit after taking my meds, errors become more prominent; they’re easier to find. I know that seems backwards, but I’m telling this story, not you. I decided long ago, it’s safer to hire an editor than it is wearing my Oxy Brand editing spectacles.

But, hands down, my favorite druggie has to be Poe. Edgar had a penchant for Black Tar Heroin. I look back on such terrifying ramblings as The Masque of Red Death, The Conqueror Worm and The Tell-Tale Heart, and I shiver. I really do believe, Poe, more so than any other writer that has influenced me, keeps me away from the hard stuff. That man’s mind went places that I dare not tread. I don’t write to create nightmares, I write to get rid of the ones already bouncing around in my brain bucket. The last thing I need are deviant dreams I can’t get the hell away from. Thank, but no thanks, Mr. Jones.

So, what do you do? Do you write in a drug fugue like King and Poe? Do you prefer your written diatribes to be alcohol induced? Have you ever written something and forgot you’re the one who created it? Or, are you one of the boring authors of the world, relying on nothing but good old fashioned imagination to fuel your work? I want to know.

Thanks for reading.

Now where are damn pills…

E.

(Updated Author’s Note: Armand Rosamilia reblogged this post after I uploaded it. I greatly appreciate him doing so, as I have received several comments and likes because of him. I would like to add though, that I, Edward Lorn, am the writer of the post. In many of the comments that I have yet to moderate, readers have given Armand the credit for authoring the piece. At the risk of being a pompous douchebag, I felt I needed to clarify that. Thank you, everyone, for stopping by and reading.)

Kickstart The Dark!

E. Here.

My Kickstarter Project for “What The Dark Brings” is now in full swing. Drop on by and check it out. Click the image above to find out all the details. If you cannot donate, please help me by spreading the word.

Thank you very much to everyone who has supported me thus far.

Love yo faces!

E.

Ruminating On: Publishing

A line has been drawn in the sand that should never have been created. As authors, and readers alike, we’ve been looking upon the publishing world in all the wrong ways. I keep seeing more and more bloggers and talking-heads regurgitating the same nonsense. The war rages, the battle burns bright, and none of it makes any sense to me. Whether or not traditional publishing is better than going indie, and visa versa. Really, who cares? Well, it seems a lot of you do, so let me weigh in on this subject.

Trash is trash. Talent is talent. There really is no other way of looking at the publishing world. For the sake of argument, sure, there is a bit of gray area, but that always leads to subjectivity. You, as the reader, decide whether or not you can trudge your way through a book or not. For me, I try and see the story for what it’s worth. For the most part, I can ignore grammar, punctuation and spelling, but I also understand if you can’t get your point across, the story is going to suffer. But if the author’s idea of a story is describing a house wherein nothing happens, then I can’t enjoy the ride. On the other hand, there are readers that will get something from reading about “This Old House.”

Getting back to my point, there is just as much trash in traditionally published books as there is talent in the indie community. Some of my favorite published authors have been lax as of late, producing verbose nonsense that shouldn’t grace a milk carton, much less a novel’s pages. Do you really think that just because someone has a name for themselves, and a publishing contract, that they must have written something of quality? If you do, you’re just as brain-numb as the publisher that let them release their laundry list. As with most things in life, these authors, at some point in time, got lucky. Just like getting a job at Wal-Mart, you either have to know someone, or be in the right pile at the right time.

With the advent of vanity presses, and more recently independent ebooks, struggling authors have a venue to display their work, no matter how poorly edited their stories are. That’s all fine and dandy, and more power to them, but it all comes down to the writer’s work ethic whether or not a quality work is published. But, this crap floating around that independent books are, by definition, of a lesser quality than traditionally published authors, needs to go away, and fast.

If one more person tells me, “You’re good… for an indie,” I’m going to scream. Really? Why should my work be belittled because I never submitted my debut novel for publication? Is there something wrong with it? Did you find something within those pages that didn’t stand up to traditionally published books? If so, please tell me. I’m not saying it’s perfect, but I want someone to tell me why my book is worth less. Why? Because I don’t have one of the Big 6 stamped on the spine?

Now, I may lose some of you guys that support indies here, but I couldn’t care less. You need to stop crying from the hilltops that one is better than the other. Traditionally published versus Indie really is apples and oranges. Both taste just as good. But they can also be rotten. I’m not telling you to stop promoting indie authors, I’m telling you to stop harping on the differences. It’s pointless.

It occurred to me recently, that as an author, my only job is to entertain. As long as people are reading my books and enjoying them, I will be successful, because they will be back if I do it right. I’m not going to focus on becoming the next big name author, traditionally published or otherwise. I just want to tell stories. In the end, that’s all that matters.

In the grand scheme of things, whether people are reading trash or talent, at least they are reading. Say what you want about Stephanie Meyers (I’ve said quite a bit myself) but she had teenagers and adults reading again. Whether it was to see what all the fuss was about, or because her readers actually enjoyed her stories, is debatable, but still… they were reading. Trash will never stop people from buying something. Look at the success of the Snuggie—come on, folks, it’s a robe you wear backwards—and you’ll see my point proven. But talent only breeds growth. If we put out the best that we’re capable of, then maybe, just maybe, someone will read us and be entertained enough to keep reading. Even though my writing is a little more adult oriented, I dream that someday, I’m the first book that someone ever reads, and because of that, continues to read. I know that’s a big dream, but I’m an author. I’m allowed to dream big.

Distinguishing between traditionally published authors and indie authors is a bit like racism. You come carrying preconceived notions based on ignorant opinions. Not every indie is trash, and not every traditionally published author is talented.

Just read. You’ll thank me for it.

E.

Making a Difference for Kids with Autism

E. here. I have two friends; one with an autistic child, the other with an autistic sibling.  Because of this, I have decided to support a fellow author’s noble cause. All the information you need is down below.

Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce, Nicole Storey…

Making a Difference for Kids with Autism

When my son was diagnosed with autism at the age of three, I was devastated and lost.  I had no idea who to turn to for help.  Thankfully, a dear friend advised me to go on the web and search for autism support sites.  I did, and found many parents treading the same turbulent waters.  I was no longer alone.

It is charities such as The GreaterGood Network at The Autism Site that help parents to believe their children can do more, be more, than the doctors dictate.  This charity helps to fund therapy for children with autism: Speech, Sensory Integration, Cognitive/Behavioral, Diet, and so many more.

For the month of July, a percentage of the sales from my books will be donated to The GreaterGood Network to help provide autistic children with the help they need to thrive.  I would love it if you could give just a few dollars and download an eBook or perhaps buy a paperback.  Together, we can make a difference for children with autism!  Thank you so very much!

The GreaterGood Network:  http://bit.ly/N0y9cr

My Amazon Author Page:  http://amzn.to/KThYif

Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/84094

“He Who Laughs Last”

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Angel Vargas reading a sample from my new short story collection, “What The Dark Brings.”

Big thanks to Glendon Haddix for the image, and Angel for his vocal stylings.

This is just beyond cool!

E.

“What The Dark Brings” Kickstarter & Cover Art Reveal!

Glendon Haddix of Streetlight Graphics strikes again with another awesome piece of cover art! I swear, this man can do no wrong. Glendon has done the covers for Bay’s End and Dastardly Bastard, and now, he’s concocted this little number for my new short story collection.

But that’s not the sole reason I’ve brought you all here today. I’ve just submitted a Kickstarter Project for the funding of “What The Dark Brings.” Those of you that follow me, know that I tried this once before, but had to cancel the project because Dastardly Bastard was picked up by Red Adept Publishing. This go around, I’m not submitting the collection for publication, so I’m asking all of you to help with the funding. If everything goes well with Kickstarter (and they see fit to let me raise funds) then I will drop links everywhere I can. You can donate as little or as much as you like, but certain amounts come with specific prizes.

I’m thoroughly excited about all this. Help me show the world, “What The Dark Brings!”

E.

FREE! “Jack Is Writing” by Shaun Adams

If you travel to my Worth Reading section, you will find a review for “Jack Is Writing” by the incomparable Shaun Adams. The book is just damn good. So, what’s better than good? Well, probably free. Starting about 1am PST, “Jack Is Writing” will be free to all you kindle users. The book is stellar from beginning to end.

Fiction doesn’t get much darker, or better written.

 

Click on the book image to your left and travel into a realm where not everything is as it seems.

 

My favorite story is, “A Rough Parody of Billy.”

 

What’s yours?

 

 

Jeff Brackett On: Preppers

Jeff Bracket, the author of Half Past Midnight, is a friend of mine who I met through the Red Adept Select author’s group. He’s a warrior for intelligence, an adamant researcher, and just an all around good guy. Every piece of insight he’s collected into the world of independent publishing can be found on his blog, HERE. Jeff is a humble dude. He will be the last one to tell you how smart he is. I have asked him to do a piece on survivalists, or as he refers to them; preppers, because I know the subject is an interest of his. Jeff can see both sides of an argument, much like myself, and explains his views with verve. 

Ladies and gentlemen, The Brackster!

Ruminating On: Preppers/Survivalists

First, I want to thank Ed for turning over the soapbox this evening.  When he asked if I’d consider addressing the topic of survivalists (or the more recently PC term of preppers), I jumped at the chance.   But let me warn you before we go any further here.  Ed and I have very different styles.  You may have noticed that  Ed is a little outspoken in his opinions.

Call it passion.  He’s young, and cares about people.  He rails against injustice, and wants the world to be a better place than it is.

Me?  I’m an old fart.  If you want to listen to my little nuggets of wisdom, great.  I’ll get all warm and fuzzy inside later.  If you don’t?  Well, I long ago accepted the fact that I’m not going to be able to please everyone, and  I’m okay with that.  Maybe that’s why I’m a prepper.  I’ve given up on trying to change the world, and instead I’m concentrating on trying to take care of my little corner of it.

Which brings me back to the topic at hand – prepping.  See how I segued in there?  I’m just so freaking clever, I amaze myself!  :)

Yes, prepping is a big interest of mine, and it plays a prominent role in some of my writing.  In researching for that writing, I got to know quite a few folks that are preppers.  Here’s what I found.

First of all, unless you already know about someone who is a prepper, chances are good that the only exposure you’ve had to the lifestyle is through TV shows like “Doomsday Preppers” and “Doomsday Bunkers”, or the so-called “reality” shows like “Survivor” and “The Colony”.  Or maybe you’ve seen advertisements for one of the “Doomsday Single” dating services?  Well, for the most part, the folks shown on those shows are either NOT what prepping is really about, or their real story has been so misrepresented as to make it unrecognizable.

Let me assure you, that’s NOT what the real prepper movement is all about.  That’s the media doing what it always does; finding the sensationalism in something that’s outside what most people see in day-to-day living.  So let me ask you to do a little self-examination.  (Hey, YOU! Get your hands out of your pants!  It’s not that kind of self-exam!)

Obviously, I can’t speak for all preppers, but let me try to get you to see something from my perspective by asking you a few questions.

Do you have flood insurance, or earthquake insurance, or fire insurance?

Have you studied some kind of self-defense so you can protect yourself?

Do you stock up on essentials in the winter in case you get snowed in?

Do you have (or wish you had) a portable generator for times when bad weather knocks the power out for an extended length of time?

If you answered yes to any of these, watch out!  You are leaning toward the prepper mentality.

Not convinced, eh?  How about this then?

What happens if you’re caught in a massive flood?  Major earthquake? How about a hurricane?  Who can you count on to take care of you?  Will it be your dear old Uncle Sam? (Can you say Katrina?)  Sure, government help eventually arrives, but how quickly?  And have you seen the news headlines during the aftermath of any of those natural disasters? One of the most common scenes on the news is that of empty store shelves, as people scramble to grab supplies after everything they own is lost.

Preppers, by definition, are the folks who have already prepared with stored supplies – who have prepared themselves with the knowledge of how to grow their own food (and usually have much of it already stored) for when the grocery stores are empty.  They are the ones who have prepared escape locations (aka “bug out locations”, or BOLs), and have prepared to get the hell out of Dodge in a “shit hits the fan” scenario.

And yes, since such disasters often bring out the worst in people, they are usually the ones who are prepared to defend themselves and their loved ones if need be.  You think that’s extreme?  You don’t think people can get crazy when it’s shtf time?  Come on people, we have idiots rioting after sporting events!  You honestly think it’s paranoia to think the same thing could happen in an actual emergency?

And here’s the real kicker.  Those nutcase preppers that everyone is so quick to point at and paint with the “crazy” label?  They’re also the ones that would absolutely LOVE to help their neighbors learn the same skills.  Because one thing almost all preppers agree on is that it’s better to survive together as a community, than it is to survive alone.

So you may ask, how can that be?  Don’t preppers have a reputation as anti-social, reclusive, nutjobs who want nothing to do with the rest of the world?

Maybe.  At least, that may be the reputation they have.  But it’s been my experience that most of them are very social.  They just have a lifestyle that promotes growing their own veggies over depending on the produce aisle.  They would rather use solar panels on their homes than depend on the local power company – hunt game animals instead of buying from the local butcher.  In short, they believe in self-sufficiency and independence.

I admit that a lot of us (and I include myself in this) distrust our government.  And we feel that the government distrusts us.  A lot of that may be because a lifestyle that embraces self-sufficiency and independent thought bucks the current system.  When the government says that the economy is recovering, but the dollar is constantly loosing value on the world market, do you believe them?  I don’t.

Or what about when the State of Michigan recently began a liberal enforcement of a 2010  law to control “feral pigs”?  That sounds like a good thing, right?  Well tell that to Dave Tuxbury, who was forced to destroy his entire stock of pigs because the Michigan Department of Natural Resources decided that nearly any species of pig that isn’t the “normal” white pork pig that is raised in one of the mass production confinement facilities, is now “feral”.  Many other small pork farmers, exotic game ranchers, and even pet owners suddenly found themselves in violation of this new interpretation of the term “feral”.  To add insult to injury, many of them were given an ultimatum – slaughter your livestock, or the state will forcefully do so, and fine you for the “service”.

Of course, it’s no surprise to find that the law was supported and lobbied for by the Michigan Pork Producers Association.  It gives a whole new meaning to the term “pork” in government, doesn’t it?

But that’s just one crazy, isolated incident, right?

Want more?

Well, did you know that it’s illegal to collect rainwater from your own roof to water your garden in many states?  Or that it’s illegal to dig a water well on your own property in many states, even when you can prove the water from said well is cleaner than that being provided by the state?  Or that some cities and HOAs want to make it illegal to plant vegetables in your front yard?  (Didn’t we used to call these “Victory Gardens”?)

So yes, many of us have little trust of the government.   It’s like the old saying, “just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you”.

But I can tell you this.  Whenever we see those “Doomsday” shows, the true survivalist community is shaking its collective head right along with you in a mixture of amusement, amazement, and concern.  Let’s face it, some of the stuff shown on those shows is often hilarious, and sometimes a little frightening.  As a prepper myself, I roll my eyes and cringe any time the media highlights a prepper’s arsenal  and jumps up and down screaming “survivalist nut job!”  The bad thing is, in some cases they’re right.  There are some extremists out there in the prepper community, just as there are in any social group.  And it doesn’t help things when the programs edit their shows for “content”, so as to emphasize the wildest material they can get.

Just like anything else in the media, they will find the most extreme people out there to try & make their points.  I know of one person who hosts a survivalist podcast who was invited to participate on one of the television shows mentioned (I don’t know if I should mention the show so I’ll err on the side of caution).  After sitting with key people from the program, he was told very candidly that they had absolutely no intention of presenting an unbiased view of the lifestyle-that they were only in it for the money.  After seeing informal interviews with a few of the people who did participate, and hearing how their words were distorted and taken out of context, I have no trouble believing this to be true.

So, as Edward is so fond of asking, what do you think about the matter?  Are preppers a bunch of paranoid wack-a-doodles, hoping for the fall of civilization so that we can live out our crazy fantasies?  Or are we simply trying to prepare for whatever curve balls life might throw at us?

Comment away…

http://www.alternet.org/food/154752/owning_pigs_a_felony_in_michigan_big_ag-inspired_law_targets_small_farms

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLbgvDtRtd0

http://tv.naturalnews.com/v.asp?v=67C793DC0503D209399C21450485DA07