Bryce Moore's Blog, page 242

Distracted from Reading

I’m a reader. Always have been, always will be. I mean–come on. Librarian? Author? I don’t just read books. I devour them.

Except . . . I haven’t been lately.

My To Read pile seems to get only larger, and my Have Read pile stays the same. I don’t think I’ve finished a book in at least a month, and just writing that down feels painful to me. I haven’t read a book in a month? What the heck is wrong with me?

So if I haven’t been reading books, what in the world *have* I been doing?

Lots of other things. I’ve been writing–revising, really. I’ve been collaborating on the website redesign, offering input to the site designer. I’ve been watching West Wing religiously. I’ve been dinking away on iPad games. I’ve played a bit of Magic. Done household chores. Played a fair bit of guitar. Prepped for church lessons.

Went face to face with a bat.

I still read, but what I’ve been reading has been different lately. The news. Links to articles on Facebook or Twitter. Blog posts. It feels like my time has been gobbled up by a horde of tiny piranha bites. This hasn’t been a situation where my reading has been eaten by some huge project. It’s been nibbled to death.

Some of this is stuff that I don’t really want to give up. I’ve been loving practicing guitar, for example. It’s a great stress reliever, and I sincerely enjoy it. But when you get right down to it, reading is important to me. I want to make time for it in my life, and you know what that means.

I’m going to have to set a reading goal.

An approach I’ve been using with the family lately is to schedule out our “fun activities” a bit better. The last while, I’d noticed the kids were just pestering me for what we were going to watch each evening after dinner. Mythbusters! Amazing Race! Merlin! I didn’t like that we were turning to television for our family activities each day. So we had a council, and we talked about the other things we could be doing. Reading together as a family and playing games together were two popular alternatives. And so now three nights a week, we watch something. Two nights, we read  something. Two nights, we play something. I like that balance much better–that feels more in line with where it ought to be.

So maybe I need to do something like that to my own personal media habits. Instead of two episodes of West Wing a night, every night, maybe I should only do that on selected nights. Could it be that binge watching television series is warping the way we consume TV? It is for me. Back in the day, I’d have to wait for a week between new episodes of my favorite shows. These days, I avoid new shows simply because I want to wait for them to accumulate so that I can then watch them all at once. Why would I watch an epic movie in a series of installments over weeks or months, after all?

But because I’m able to binge like that, I like to keep momentum on a show. I enjoy the daily doses–it’s my reading time that doesn’t.

Anyway. This is just to say that I haven’t been reading as much as I’d like, and I want to improve. A book a week? Maybe that’s a goal I could stick to and reach.

Has anyone else been having the same issues? Care to share what you do to keep yourself doing something you love to do, but for whatever reason haven’t found yourself doing as much of at the moment?

Saxophone Duets: The Importance of Social Media

Yesterday, my friend Dan posted a YouTube video on Facebook–a clip of Ronald Reagan, a saxophone duet from Boston who play 80s songs. (They list themselves as “Boston’s Premiere 80′s Pop Saxophone Duo.”) I listened to them, and I was an instant fan. Their arrangements were fun and upbeat, it’s on the saxophone (almost the bassoon–my original instrument of choice–but good enough (I played tenor and bari throughout high school), they were funny, the songs were popular favorites. Well–let me just show you so you can see for yourself.

See what I mean? (You better!) I wanted to own some of their songs right away.

That’s when the troubles began.

These days, when I want to get music, I typically just go to iTunes and download it. So I opened up iTunes on my computer and did a search for . . . Ronald Reagan. Um. Yeah. Turns out that also happens to be the name of some president or something, so all I got back was a bunch of speeches about Communism and stuff? No 80s pop saxophone duets at all? Whatever. Even using my top secret ninja-level librarian search skills, I couldn’t come up with any of their songs in 5 minutes or less.

So I turned to Google.

I found their web page without too much trouble. But that page? Not much there. Pretty darn sparse, other than a list of performances. But it linked to their Facebook page. Again, not too much there. YouTube page? Some two year old recordings of them. Twitter? Very sporadic Tweets. But it also had a link to their record label (though you had to click the icon to find that out–not self-explanatory at all). Aha! At last we were getting somewhere. They had an album available for purchase!

But no info on what songs were on it, how many songs were on it, samples to the songs that were on it . . .

See some problems here?

Thankfully, I could talk to my friend Dan directly, who had bought the album from them in person, and he told me it had Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, We Built This City, Beat It, Total Eclipse of the Heart, and Take On Me. 5 songs. Studio recordings. Decent quality.

I bought the album. Or at least, I think I did. Once I paid the $5 (yay for inexpensive, but it’s also only 5 songs), the site informed me it was a digital purchase, and that I’d be emailed the download links. At least, I think that’s what it meant. I still haven’t gotten the download links. Or any more info other than a receipt. And it asked for my shipping address . . .

I’m quite optimistic I’ll get my music. In one way or another. But the fact of the matter is that this was a really hard path to follow (comparatively speaking) for me to support this band, and there’s no reason for it to be this way these days. If I hadn’t loved-loved-loved what I’d seen from them–and had a personal friend who was there to vouch for the end product–I would have given up long before I got anywhere. These days, I expect public people to have an online presence. I expect to be able to sample what they’ve got available for purchase. I want to know what I’m getting exactly before I shell out money to get it. And it’s not that hard to do.

My wife set up a Facebook page for a bakery business she runs from the comfort of her kitchen, and it took all of an afternoon. Is it the best page ever? No. It’s just a Facebook page with a list of her breads, her prices, and her contact information. (Kind of hard to zap bread through the interwebs.) But the basics are there. My friend Dan has his music available all over the place to listen to. He’s got a website. An active blog.

To me, having things like this are as basic as having an entry in the phonebook used to be.

Having an awesome “something” is important. But you need to offer ways for new fans to jump on board. Ideally, it’s supposed to work like this: a guy in Philly hears your song. He posts a YouTube video online. A guy in Maine becomes a huge fan. He clicks a button, hears your album, clicks another button, and buys it. Anything less easy than that is just gumming up the works.

Thoughts?

(And Ronald Reagan, if you happen to read this, know that I think you’re absolutely awesome and am really looking forward to listening to your album when I get it–however I get it. Also, good job  on that whole “bringing down Communism” thing that I read about online. Seems like it was pretty important, so maybe I should cut you some slack on not having your stuff on iTunes. But as an FYI, I don’t know what you did to piss off Democrats, but maybe you shouldn’t be quite so political, ya know?)

In Which I Battle a Bat

I’ve been having a rough time falling asleep for the past while. so I’ve been making a concerted effort to go to bed earlier. Last night I was particularly proud of myself. It was 10:40, and I’d already stopped watching West Wing. So Denisa and I head off to brush our teeth and get ready for bed. On my way to the bathroom, I caught a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye. I turned to look at our enclosed front porch. Just as I was about to dismiss what I’d seen, I saw it again. And again. And then there was no doubt:

A bat had gotten in there.

This is a little room about ten feet wide and five feet deep. It’s got a door to the outside, but we’ve sealed that door shut with spray foam, since we never use it. It has a big window to the outside, though. A locked window. That could only be unlocked from inside the room, of course.

The room which had a very angry bat flying wildly around inside it at the moment.

Denisa and I conferred and came up with a few options:

Laissez faire–Leave the bat alone. It had gotten in there somehow. It could get out again, thank you very much. This seemed like a less-than-optimal choice, mainly because we were pretty sure the bat came in through a hole in the ceiling where we’ve been working on fixing a light. We never go in the room, so we’ve just left the hole there while the light gets fixed. It’s a small hole, however. I could see how the bat got in through it, but the odds of that flying rodent finding its way out were slim to none.
Call for reinforcements–Isn’t this why they invented exterminators? I could surely *buy* my way out of this mess. However, that goes against the DIY attitude I’ve somehow developed since moving to Maine (6 years ago today–can you believe it?) I didn’t want to pay some schlub to come take care of this problem for me. Plus, who knew how long it would take for it to get taken care of.
Wait it out–Bats have to go to sleep eventually, right? The little bloodsucker would get tuckered out during the day, and then we could catch it and release the thing into the wild, where it could prey on mosquitoes as much as it liked. The problem with this one was that we really had no clue if this would work, and Denisa does have to go in that room occasionally.
Get the bat out right then and there–Not as appealing as the other options, but it would solve the problem. One of us would have to go in, brave the fluttering bat wings, open the window, remove the screen, and then the bat would voomp! off into the wild dark yonder.

We went with the last choice. And I’m the pater familias. I’m bona fide.

I volunteered to be the one to go in with the Fledermaus.

I don’t have a lot of experience with bats. I’ve seen all the Batman movies, and I can sing the Mighty Mouse theme song (flying mouse–same thing, right?), but when it comes to bats in the wild, my experience boils down to one a dark night on the sun porch of my house growing up, where a bat dive bombed my sister and I laughed at her. (Sorry, Susie)

Karma is real, my friends.

Even though my experience was small, I *am* a trained librarian, and I’m awfully good at looking things up online. A few minutes later, and I knew that yes indeedy, bats carry rabies and other nasty things. You’re supposed to wear long sleeves and pants when dealing with them, and you want to limit your exposure. There was a YouTube video of a woman catching a bat, and if some random woman on YouTube can do it, so can I.

I’m bona fide.

So I got into my grubby jeans, threw on an old long sleeve flannel shirt (flannel is the cloth of choice for bat-wrangling), and went to the door to the porch, then paused. The bat was still flapping around, whizzing from wall to wall like a disease-ridden pinball. And I was about to step in there with that bat.

I’d need a hat. And gloves.

So I got the hat and gloves and stood in front of the door again. The bat had gone into stealth mode. I was fairly confident that bats didn’t have Predator-level technology (at least, I hadn’t come across anything indicating that on YouTube), so I was pretty sure it had just taken refuge in one of the piles of stuff on the floor. I looked at the window where I’d need to get to, then back to the door I needed to enter. Six feet, tops. Then pause at the window to open it, fumble with the screen to get it off, and then back to the door to get out. I could do this.

But I’d need protection for my face. Didn’t want that bat making a run for my eyeballs, you know. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Denisa has a bug hat she uses on particularly bad buggy days in the garden. I went and got that, and put it over my head. I was now armored for action, and no doubt looking about as stupid as a thirty-something librarian can look at 11:15 at night.

I took another breath, and opened the door.

The bat was ready for me. It started swooping back and forth, emitting shrieks of anger and no-doubt rabid intentions. But I kept my cool, went to the window, opened it, took off the screen (Denisa was helping from the outside), and then went back to the door and shut it behind me. I had done it! I hadn’t even screamed. Honest.

Problem solved, right? Wrong. You know how nature shows are always talking about how bats are like awesome and all that at finding their way around in the dark? About how they’ve got super awesome powers of sonar? Those nature shows are full of it. I stood there watching the bat fly around the room. And keep flying. And flying. Despite the fact that there was a square three foot opening for the stupid thing, it couldn’t find its way out. That bat couldn’t find its way out of a paper bag, let alone that room. And then it dropped to the ground again and went back into hiding.

No problem. The bat would come out eventually, right? Nope. I waited. And waited. And I was getting pretty tired, because I’ve been having sleep issues, you know? And it was now 11:30 at night. So I suited up again, grabbed a trusty broom, and headed back into the room.

No bat.

I poked around with the broom. I squeaked. I shouted. I clicked my tongue. I did everything but offer that cursed bat a steak dinner. It didn’t come out.

Denisa was sure the bat had already left the premises–that we’d just missed seeing it leave. Besides, we could just leave the window open all night, and the bat would leave on its own. “Denisa,” I said. “You’ve got to go in this room tomorrow or the day after. Are you going to feel comfortable going in there?”

She thought about it, and then sent me back in to look for the bat.

I was now at the most distasteful part of the evening. I don’t really like cleaning clutter up, but let me tell you friends–you’ve never cleaned clutter up like this. They could make a new game show out of it: “Mr. Smith! You’ve got a room full of clutter, and you’ve got five minutes to clean it out. But somewhere in that clutter, we’ve secretly hidden a LIVE BAT WITH RABIES! So, Mr. Smith. The time has come to see if you can be the one . . to FIND THE BAT!” (Cue audience applause)

I started an archaeological dig for that lousy bat. Moving box by box in a dark room (I mentioned the light in there was broken, didn’t I?), never knowing if the next box was going to reveal a winged horror. I’ve done more pleasant things in my life.

And then I found the bat. But it didn’t swoop into bite my neck. It was huddled underneath my briefcase, scrunched up in a ball on the floor. It was doing the animal equivalent of the five year old who squeezes his eyes shut in a misguided belief that if he can’t see you, you can’t see him.

I own pet rodents. (My kids’ degus) This bat wasn’t a fiend of terror. It was a small winged degu, and it was scared out of its mind.

From there on, it was smooth sailing. I grabbed an empty sour cream container, placed it over the huddled bat, slipped a piece of cardboard under it, and picked it up. The bat started screeching wildly then, fluttering around inside the container. I took it out of the room, set it on the porch, and removed the lid. The bat stayed huddled there for a minute or so, and then it flew off.

I went back inside and duct taped the ceiling hole closed in that room.

And there you have it, my friends. My first encounter with a bat. It might not have been glamorous. It might not be a story for the ages, but it kept me up until 12:30 last night, and I’m kind of sleepy today because of it. Denisa expressed her undying respect and admiration for my feats of bravery, and I assured her the main reason I did it was because I wanted a permanent “Get Out of Jail Free” card for anything. (Denisa: “Bryce? Come do the dishes!” Bryce: “I would do the dishes, but there was that one time I captured the bat. Remember that?” Denisa: “Oh, right. Never mind. Keep reading!”)

But when you get down to it, I did it because I’m the pater familias. Bat duty comes with the job description.

And I’m bona fide.

The New Website’s Here! The New Website’s Here!

That’s right, woodchuck chuckers, the new site is up and live and you’re reading this on it RIGHT THIS MOMENT.

So–what do you think? I personally am overjoyed with it. It’s a huge step up from where I was, and it’s got some awesome features I’ve been looking to add for a long time. What are they?

First of all, my blog and my website now share the same space. This is really big, and it’s been something like eight years in the making. Up until now, my two web presences have been separated. They looked totally different from each other, there was no cross over between them, and it just felt clunky. With this new site, I’ve got my blog here where it belongs, and that feels great.
More than that, my blog is improved (I think.) It’s easier to find old material. It’s searchable. It’s got a better mechanism for making comments and sharing posts. I’m a big fan.
I’ve got a new way to track my writing. My website designer and I bounced a few ideas back and forth. I know some authors who show a “progress bar” on their site to show how the new book’s going. Dan (my designer) pointed out that such an approach meant something to the author, but it was really abstract to fans–mainly because it used word count to track progress. 50,000 words means something to me, but it’s totally abstract for non-writers. With this new approach, I track word count over time, and it shows some fascinating things to me. I can compare how fast I’ve written and revised each book I’ve written since VODNIK. (Check them out at TARNHELM, GET CUPID, and THE MEMORY THIEF’s pages.)
There are easy to find ways to get in touch with me–both through email and social media.
There’s also a spot to order stuff from me directly. I didn’t put in a full-fledged order page, mainly because I just don’t have enough demand to warrant it yet. But there’s a list of what I could send you–and there’s even an offer for some free VODNIK tattoos. (You know you want them!)
You can now subscribe to my blog, as well–have it sent directly to your email, so I can clog up your inbox as well as your now defunct RSS feed. The more the merrier, right?

Basically, this site gives my page a much needed refresh. It’s neat, it’s clean, and it conveys the information well. If you’re looking for something similar for your own site, might I recommend Tubadan Designs? (Note: that’s a site he put up this morning, knowing that I’d need a link to a space online where I could direct people.) I can’t say enough good things about him. He was willing to work with me through the whole process and offered fantastic recommendations and insights into how the final site’s design should look.

(I think one of the biggest differences with this revision was that I wasn’t the one doing it. I would always settle for “good enough,” and Dan pushed me to think beyond that and add the extra polish a site needs to look professional. At this point in my writing career, I think a little professionalism is in order.)

Anyway–there you have it. The new website! Give it a spin and tell me what you think. If you find any glitches or bugs, please let me know about those, too. There ususally are a few with something like this.

 

 

A General Announcement about Ze Blog–New Address!

If you’re seeing this on my new site, congratulations! You’re here! If you’re seeing this on my old blog site (brycesramblings.blogspot.com), then this is the last blog you’ll ever see here (I think.) I’ve moved over to greener pastures and the tastier lollipops that WordPress has to offer. So for all the same Bryce’s Ramblings goodness, head on over there right now, and subscribe to ze blog. (Look at that! A subscription option. Now I can clog your emails as well as your RSS feeds. Prepare to be assimilated!)

The new blog URL is www.brycemoore.com/blog

A General Announcement about Ze Blog--New Address!

If you're seeing this on my new site, congratulations! You're here! If you're seeing this on my old blog site (brycesramblings.blogspot.com), then this is the last blog you'll ever see here (I think.) I've moved over to greener pastures and the tastier lollipops that Wordpress has to offer. So for all the same Bryce's Ramblings goodness, head on over there right now, and subscribe to ze blog. (Look at that! A subscription option. Now I can clog your emails as well as your RSS feeds. Prepare to be assimilated!)



The new blog URL is www.brycemoore.com/blog

BIG CHANGES are Afoot In eBryceville

Oh yes, my friends. Big changes. What changes? Everything. My blog is changing. My website is changing. My religion . . . is staying the same. I guess not *everything* is changing.



But almost everything. Everything online, at least.



The big day is Monday. Come back to see all the lovely changes, The blog will be a new improved layout. The website will be completely re-awesome-ized. I've been looking at these changes as they've come together, and I have to say I'm pretty darned excited for them,



Can you tell?



So (assuming everything goes off without a hitch) tune in Monday to see all the cool new stuff.



Oh--and did I mention there'll be a way for you to get your paws on some free Vodnik tattoos? Because there will be.





Nothing says "Super Bryce Fan" like a temporary tattoo . . . 

Review/Poll: Have You Seen The Three Amigos

I know that some movies don't need reviews. Or at least, I assume they don't. And yet I talk to people of the younger generations today, and I discover a disturbing trend: they're completely ignorant of some of the best cinema out there. Gems like Ghostbusters. I mean, I actually had a conversation with someone older than twelve who had no clue who Bill Murray was.



Bill Murray!



This is a sad, sad state of affairs, my friends. Something must be done! But I don't want to assume that you all have no clue about these classics. Instead, I want to ask you all a question:



Have you seen The Three Amigos?



I'm not going to make fun of you if you haven't. This is too important to waste time making fun of people. This is a key part of our cultural heritage, and if I have to have a series of movie reviews highlighting obviously awesome movies, then I'll do that. But if they're going to just be "Hey! Remember that awesome movie?" posts, then there's no point.



I watched it last night with the fam, then went over to IMDB to check out the details on the movie. 6.4? Some people have no taste, apparently. :-) There are people out there who have a sense of humor, and there are people who don't like the Three Amigos. There is no middle ground. I mean, come on.



Steve Martin. Chevy Chase. Martin Short. John Landis directing. (Can we say Blues Brothers? Animal House? Spies Like Us? Trading Places?) Randy Newman writing the songs (Toy Story? The Natural?) It's classic 80s cinema, and it remains one of the most quotable movies I know. Lines like:



Would you say I have a plethora of pinatas?



or



He's not just famous. He's IN-famous.



or



Hey! Hey you! You two! Look! Look! Look up here! Look up here! Look up here!



Sad to say, TRC got a bit bored in parts of the movie, but I still thoroughly enjoyed it from start to finish. The gags are set up wonderfully. The Buttercup scene? Priceless. Gringos falling out of the sky? Lovely. And then there are the subtle things--like the sweater El Guapo gets for his birthday.



Great movie.



(I was surprised to hear that Landis had quite a different cut of the film, but the studio took it over. I'd love to see the director's cut, just for kicks.)



Anyway. I'm off to Bangor for the day, but I leave you with this taste of the awesome you might haven't seen in a year or two. (Tell me it's just been a year or two. Don't tell me you've never seen this movie) Enjoy!

Thrown Off My Sleep Schedule: How I Handled My Insomnia

I go on vacation for one week, and I come back, and I'm stuck with insomnia. Blech. Okay--first off, I know I shouldn't complain. I had insomnia for something like 2 years when TRC was born and I was in Utah. I'd just stare at the ceiling every night, unable to sleep. I know how frustrating it can be, and this is nothing like that. I know also that just not being able to fall asleep for an hour or two isn't insomnia.




Still, whenever I have a night or two (or three, or four . . .) when I can't get to sleep, I have flashbacks to those nights in Utah, and I wonder if they're back. However, I don't wonder too hard, because the things I did to get over that insomnia typically work wonders for me. What did I do?




First up, I started getting up at the same time every day. This makes a huge difference, although it's also one of the hardest things to force myself to do. If I didn't sleep well the night before, getting up at the same early time I'm supposed to just feels wrong. I had to drag myself out of bed this morning. And yet, if I don't do that, then the insomnia continues. I know this from experience, and so out of bed I get.




Second, I don't take naps. Well, I don't if I want to be able to fall asleep easily. If I'm not stuck in an insomnia rut, then a nap here or there doesn't hurt. Yesterday I was just so groggy I was falling asleep at work, so I finally went home and took a nap. Couldn't get to sleep until past 1. I'm not going to be taking a nap today.


Third, I read before going to bed, and I don't stop reading until I'm sleepy. Usually this only takes about ten minutes these days. If I turn off the light when I get sleepy, I'm usually asleep in five minutes or less. If I don't, it can be a long time coming.



Finally. I don't just lie in bed anymore. If I've tried to get to sleep for an hour, I give up. Get up, go do something else, and then give it a fresh shot an hour or so later. Because who wants to waste time just lying in bed?



Really, these days it's all just keeping the schedule running and falling back to it when I fall out of it. In Utah, lots of things conspired to throw me off that routine. I didn't have a full time job, I was a stay at home dad, a new dad, and a night owl. I'd take naps. I'd wake up all over the place, time-wise. I'd watch TV and try to go to bed right after. I'd stay up until the wee hours playing World of Warcraft.



All sorts of things that ended up being bad choices. Thank goodness for being older and wiser. Now I just need to follow my own advice.



How about you? Have insomnia? How do you fight it?

Diet Redux: The Reckoning

Well, here we are. On the other side of my Pennsylvania trip and my conferences. And as I said before all this, I was going to check in with you all after I was done and start up on ze diet again. When last we met, I was 191.2. My goal was to still be around 192 when I checked back in with you all.




Where am I as of this morning?




194.8




Hey--that's better than where I was yesterday: 196.4




Of course, I realized it wasn't going to be good after my PA trip. I didn't eat very well at all on the trip. Oh--I ate well. Too well. That's the trouble. Ice cream, pizza, sugary cereals, burgers, fries, s'mores. I ate far too well. So I suppose the takeaway is the obvious one: if you eat too much, you gain weight.




But I'm back on the wagon--more or less. I weighed breakfast and lunch yesterday. I just couldn't bring myself to weigh dinner. I'm going to try just weighing breakfast and lunch and then being reasonable at dinner and not eating much dessert. If that brings me back to 190 or so naturally, then perhaps I'll just stay there and stick to that approach. Because dieting is hard, people.




And it makes me grumpy.




But not checking in every week made it very easy to not follow the diet at all. I think this bit of accountability is something I need still. So I'll keep it up for the next while at least.




And I really need to start exercising regularly again. Now that it's not so darned hot everyday anymore . . .