Tired of hearing how publishers are not looking for new talent in "this difficult economy", I have decided to try another approach. I am now a self-published author. So help me celebrate; buy a copy of The Savage Queen.
Currently, eBook versions are available. Print should follow shortly.
Amazon -- For the Kindle
http://www.amazon.com/Savage-Queen-Slaveborn-Saga-ebook/dp/B004FN2D6M/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AZC9TZ4UC9CFC&s=books&qid=1291984869&sr=8-1
Smashwords -- With eBook versions for Kindle, Stanza, Sony Reader, Palm, PC or MAC (iPhone version should be coming soon)
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/32689
Friday, December 10, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
6 Weeks Old
Well, 6 weeks have passsed. and its been a hell of a blur. Nicole is on the mend, and should be holding Kenny again soon. Ken is doing great; he sleeps, he eats, he poops. And thats about it.
However, yesterday he actually did SOMETHING:
Monday, November 1, 2010
The Family
Hey all.
I was hoping to update this a lot more often once Kenny arrived; things did not work out that way. So here is the quick update (I am working on a more detailed version, but it will take time to finish it -- the last two weeks are a blur for all three of us).
On October 18 at 12:58 am, Nicole gave birth to Kenneth Bradley Dunkley. He weighed in at 7 pounds 7 ounces. We were surprised; he came naturally, and fast (we got to the hospital around 9:30). Later that day, we were given a clean bill of health and rushed home.
That night, the 18th, Nicole began complaining of pain and nausea. By morning, she said it felt as if she was in labour all over again. We went to the ER on the morning of the 19th. After spending 10 hours in ER, with Nicole unable to breast feed because of delirious pain (Numerous requests for pain meds were answered with "we have to wait for a doctor" while my wife suffered, and Kenny had nothing to eat), we were admitted back into the Labour ward of Grand River Hospital. Nicole was still in too much pain to even hold Kenny, and we were told that officially Kenneth was not a patient, and so none of their concern. Luckily, a number of nurses broke the rules and helped me feed the baby, and help Nicole with breastfeeding when she was able, while sneaking us formula for Kenney when she was unable to provide.
We went through a lot of tests, a lot of wrong diagnosis, a lot of sleepless nights at the hospital; on the 21st Nicole went in to have her appendix removed. It had burst; our best guess is it either burst during labour, or shortly after. She was living with the burst appendix for several days. A simple surgery (sort of) turned into a major affair -- 4 incisions, 29 staples and 10 stitches (not including a number for repairs down south, expected collateral damage during labour). Appendix removed, cleaned -- and an unknown hernia fixed at the same go. Now, nearly two weeks later, and she still cannot hold her baby.
They sent us home on the 27th. Her main incision is still bleeding, and she has to get up every couple hours through the night for medicine (More than we need to get up for the baby's feeding). The pain where the appendix was is still excruciating, and she cannot sleep lying down because of it. She is still suffering allergic reactions to some of her meds, causing itchiness and burning everywhere, and asthma like shortness of breath.
Because she is not allowed to hold the baby, breastfeeding is a no-no. She is still making a valiant effort, using an electric pump to extract as much milk as she can manage in her weakened state, while I supplement Kens feedings with formula. The Lactation Consultants at Grand River were very helpful, and believe it is still not late to breastfeed for us. So fingers crossed.
What was supposed to be the greatest most wonderful experience of our lives has instead been our greatest ordeal. Two weeks I slept on that little window sill with a thin cushion at the hospital, and cared for Kenny in a tiny little room; all the while, watching as they poked and prodded my wife, and she whimpered in agony. Now, she cries because she cannot even hold her baby, and she is afraid he will grow up not knowing his mother. Foolishness, I assure her, but that is her fear.
I have used up my leave and my vacation days, and have to return next week. I am still not sure how we will manage this, but Nicole's mom will be here during the days to help, so I am sure it will all work out. As much pain as she is still in, she is on the mend. And we are both happy that our little Kenny is happy and healthy, and surprisingly coming from my genes, a pretty well behaved little baby.
I was hoping to update this a lot more often once Kenny arrived; things did not work out that way. So here is the quick update (I am working on a more detailed version, but it will take time to finish it -- the last two weeks are a blur for all three of us).
On October 18 at 12:58 am, Nicole gave birth to Kenneth Bradley Dunkley. He weighed in at 7 pounds 7 ounces. We were surprised; he came naturally, and fast (we got to the hospital around 9:30). Later that day, we were given a clean bill of health and rushed home.
That night, the 18th, Nicole began complaining of pain and nausea. By morning, she said it felt as if she was in labour all over again. We went to the ER on the morning of the 19th. After spending 10 hours in ER, with Nicole unable to breast feed because of delirious pain (Numerous requests for pain meds were answered with "we have to wait for a doctor" while my wife suffered, and Kenny had nothing to eat), we were admitted back into the Labour ward of Grand River Hospital. Nicole was still in too much pain to even hold Kenny, and we were told that officially Kenneth was not a patient, and so none of their concern. Luckily, a number of nurses broke the rules and helped me feed the baby, and help Nicole with breastfeeding when she was able, while sneaking us formula for Kenney when she was unable to provide.
We went through a lot of tests, a lot of wrong diagnosis, a lot of sleepless nights at the hospital; on the 21st Nicole went in to have her appendix removed. It had burst; our best guess is it either burst during labour, or shortly after. She was living with the burst appendix for several days. A simple surgery (sort of) turned into a major affair -- 4 incisions, 29 staples and 10 stitches (not including a number for repairs down south, expected collateral damage during labour). Appendix removed, cleaned -- and an unknown hernia fixed at the same go. Now, nearly two weeks later, and she still cannot hold her baby.
They sent us home on the 27th. Her main incision is still bleeding, and she has to get up every couple hours through the night for medicine (More than we need to get up for the baby's feeding). The pain where the appendix was is still excruciating, and she cannot sleep lying down because of it. She is still suffering allergic reactions to some of her meds, causing itchiness and burning everywhere, and asthma like shortness of breath.
Because she is not allowed to hold the baby, breastfeeding is a no-no. She is still making a valiant effort, using an electric pump to extract as much milk as she can manage in her weakened state, while I supplement Kens feedings with formula. The Lactation Consultants at Grand River were very helpful, and believe it is still not late to breastfeed for us. So fingers crossed.
What was supposed to be the greatest most wonderful experience of our lives has instead been our greatest ordeal. Two weeks I slept on that little window sill with a thin cushion at the hospital, and cared for Kenny in a tiny little room; all the while, watching as they poked and prodded my wife, and she whimpered in agony. Now, she cries because she cannot even hold her baby, and she is afraid he will grow up not knowing his mother. Foolishness, I assure her, but that is her fear.
I have used up my leave and my vacation days, and have to return next week. I am still not sure how we will manage this, but Nicole's mom will be here during the days to help, so I am sure it will all work out. As much pain as she is still in, she is on the mend. And we are both happy that our little Kenny is happy and healthy, and surprisingly coming from my genes, a pretty well behaved little baby.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
More changes
To go with the new theme and new name, I also added a brand new colorful title. Hope you like it.
Anyone who has seen me in the last year and a half knows of my obsession with my iPhone. Well, now I have yet another reason to profess my love; Blogpress. This snazzy tool let's me easily update my blog from anywhere. And THAT means I will be updating this thing so often, you'll be sick of me!
Anyone who has seen me in the last year and a half knows of my obsession with my iPhone. Well, now I have yet another reason to profess my love; Blogpress. This snazzy tool let's me easily update my blog from anywhere. And THAT means I will be updating this thing so often, you'll be sick of me!
Monday, September 13, 2010
Changes
The old theme was kind of dark, I think, for the content. I decided it was time for a change. With the little parasite coming in a month, the childrens blocks seemed appropriate -- for now. I very well might decide to change it again. I guess we'll see!
Sunday, September 12, 2010
34 Weeks 2 Days
Less than six weeks left. Wow. Just wow. On the one hand I cannot believe how fast we got here. I can't believe in a little over a month our little parasite will arrive. Crazy.
On the other hand, holy crap on a stick, this has been the longest eight months EVER!! When I started this blog I thought I would have lots of things to say; tons of tiny but terrific tid bits of information that would be tantalizingly interesting.
Yeah. Nope. it's been months and months of waiting. Waiting for the next appointment. Waiting for results. (hoping everything is good). Waiting for the next paycheck to buy the next must-have baby item. Waiting for the shower. Waiting for the BABY.
Well, I hate waiting.
Luckily we are almost done. The tests are done; the parasite is healthy. The showers are done (thank you everyone, I am honestly humbled by the generosity of family and friends). Most of the must-haves are here. Now, we just have to wait for his arrival. And I'm guessing and hoping I'll have a lot to say about THAT!
Hopefully, I'll be checking back here in a day or two. Honestly. Scouts honor.
Here's a quick pic from that nursery tour I promised; more to follow soon.
On the other hand, holy crap on a stick, this has been the longest eight months EVER!! When I started this blog I thought I would have lots of things to say; tons of tiny but terrific tid bits of information that would be tantalizingly interesting.
Yeah. Nope. it's been months and months of waiting. Waiting for the next appointment. Waiting for results. (hoping everything is good). Waiting for the next paycheck to buy the next must-have baby item. Waiting for the shower. Waiting for the BABY.
Well, I hate waiting.
Luckily we are almost done. The tests are done; the parasite is healthy. The showers are done (thank you everyone, I am honestly humbled by the generosity of family and friends). Most of the must-haves are here. Now, we just have to wait for his arrival. And I'm guessing and hoping I'll have a lot to say about THAT!
Hopefully, I'll be checking back here in a day or two. Honestly. Scouts honor.
Here's a quick pic from that nursery tour I promised; more to follow soon.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
28 Weeks 2 Days
Catch up time! It's been a very busy last few weeks. It seems like I've barely had time to relax, let alone get the blog updated. But don't worry, I'm sure once the kid arrives I'll have plenty of time to spare (*snicker*).
Last time I checked it very briefly was to announce we are having a boy, after the 20 week ultrasound. If you read my seldom updated blog at all, you know I'm quite excited to know that its a little boy on the way. In all honesty, the thought of a girl actually terrifies me (maybe Ill get into that another day).
Since then, well, some things have happened. The baby is officially moving. Nicole feels it all the time, especially at bed time -- for some reason when she lays down, he decides to play. Then a few nights back, like a scene right out of ALIEN, we actually saw the parasite moving, with little ripples across her growing belly. (When it happens to me, its just gas, and everyone insists they don't need to see it!).
Nicole is feeling a bit better. She still pees more often than I feel should be humanly possible, but the heartburn is mostly (most nights) gone. Her back is sore now, and her ample tummy (which I find strangely.... yummy....) is getting large, and creating issues for her at night.
The registry is done (babies r us everyone!), and this weekend I have nearly finished the nursery. The crib is ready, the change table nearly so, the floors and walls are finished. Couple little details left to finish up, and next weekend we start to make it a nursery instead of just a room; organizing the clothing and toys and books we have all ready, and putting everything together. I will be posting some pictures and a little tour just as soon as it's all ready.
About a two week agos, we went for the 3D ultrasound. It was pretty exciting seeing our little fellow in action. Here, for your enjoyment, are some photos. Once I get teh video edited down a bit Ill post that as well:
Last time I checked it very briefly was to announce we are having a boy, after the 20 week ultrasound. If you read my seldom updated blog at all, you know I'm quite excited to know that its a little boy on the way. In all honesty, the thought of a girl actually terrifies me (maybe Ill get into that another day).
Since then, well, some things have happened. The baby is officially moving. Nicole feels it all the time, especially at bed time -- for some reason when she lays down, he decides to play. Then a few nights back, like a scene right out of ALIEN, we actually saw the parasite moving, with little ripples across her growing belly. (When it happens to me, its just gas, and everyone insists they don't need to see it!).
Nicole is feeling a bit better. She still pees more often than I feel should be humanly possible, but the heartburn is mostly (most nights) gone. Her back is sore now, and her ample tummy (which I find strangely.... yummy....) is getting large, and creating issues for her at night.
The registry is done (babies r us everyone!), and this weekend I have nearly finished the nursery. The crib is ready, the change table nearly so, the floors and walls are finished. Couple little details left to finish up, and next weekend we start to make it a nursery instead of just a room; organizing the clothing and toys and books we have all ready, and putting everything together. I will be posting some pictures and a little tour just as soon as it's all ready.
About a two week agos, we went for the 3D ultrasound. It was pretty exciting seeing our little fellow in action. Here, for your enjoyment, are some photos. Once I get teh video edited down a bit Ill post that as well:
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Bear's Story
Bear went in for surgery on two weeks ago. They put her to sleep, and put a 5 inch incision in her right hind knee. They then removed the old tendon that was holding together her knee. They shaved down the bones in her legs so it would rotate properly. They placed the knee cap back where it should be -- it was over a good three inches to one side. They then put in a rubber band that will hold the whole thing together, and closed her up with a staple gun. For recovery, she cannot run or climb any stairs for 2 months, and then another 4 months after that of reduced activity. During this time, we had to ice her leg three times a day (for the first two weeks), and give her physiotherapy three times a day (for 6 months). She cannot be left unsupervised outside of her crate. Deviating from any of this in any way could result in her tearing the replacement tendon and dislocating the knee -- meaning she would need to head back in for another major surgery.
Bear is taking it all like a trooper. We had to move her bed downstairs (she can't take stairs for six months), and had to wear a cone that kept her from her stitches. She is terrified of the cone; she has literally stood frozen for an entire hour wearing one -- she would not even come for food. Sleeping by herself also scares the big wussy; the first night she cried for hours before finally settling down to sleep. It breaks my heart to see my sweet little Bear suffering like this, but I know in the end she will live a better, fuller life.
Bear is only three. In my admittedly limited experience she is the best dog I have ever seen; she is the absolute perfect dog for me. Faced with the choice of possibly numerous expensive surgeries, or putting her down at such a young age, it was really a no brainer. No way would I put her down. NO WAY.
When we first brought her home, I could hold her in one hand. She was a clumsy little monster, curious, loving. She chased the cats and Kasey (the beagle) around the house with no hope of actually catching them. She was sad when we left, and ecstatic when we returned. She played with toys, wrestled with me, played tag with Kasey. She sat on the floor next to us as we watched TV, or slowly wormed her way onto the couch beside us. As she grew up, she pretty much kept all those qualities -- she just got bigger.
Some good friends of ours came to visit and bring us some things for the baby. They also brought their two children (aged two point five and five). Bear got along with them great, (though she has never really been around kids much), and loved the attention. She is taking rehabilitation perfectly, even though we have to do therapy with her three times a day, exercising her sore knee. She gets sad when we have to lock her in her crate for the day, but I think she loves the extra attention she gets when we get home.
So she’s on the mend, but it’s the beginning of a very long road. Between Bear and getting ready for the arrival of our little parasite, we have been pretty busy. Hopefully I can get this thing updated a little more often!
Until next time!
Bear is taking it all like a trooper. We had to move her bed downstairs (she can't take stairs for six months), and had to wear a cone that kept her from her stitches. She is terrified of the cone; she has literally stood frozen for an entire hour wearing one -- she would not even come for food. Sleeping by herself also scares the big wussy; the first night she cried for hours before finally settling down to sleep. It breaks my heart to see my sweet little Bear suffering like this, but I know in the end she will live a better, fuller life.
Bear is only three. In my admittedly limited experience she is the best dog I have ever seen; she is the absolute perfect dog for me. Faced with the choice of possibly numerous expensive surgeries, or putting her down at such a young age, it was really a no brainer. No way would I put her down. NO WAY.
When we first brought her home, I could hold her in one hand. She was a clumsy little monster, curious, loving. She chased the cats and Kasey (the beagle) around the house with no hope of actually catching them. She was sad when we left, and ecstatic when we returned. She played with toys, wrestled with me, played tag with Kasey. She sat on the floor next to us as we watched TV, or slowly wormed her way onto the couch beside us. As she grew up, she pretty much kept all those qualities -- she just got bigger.
Some good friends of ours came to visit and bring us some things for the baby. They also brought their two children (aged two point five and five). Bear got along with them great, (though she has never really been around kids much), and loved the attention. She is taking rehabilitation perfectly, even though we have to do therapy with her three times a day, exercising her sore knee. She gets sad when we have to lock her in her crate for the day, but I think she loves the extra attention she gets when we get home.
So she’s on the mend, but it’s the beginning of a very long road. Between Bear and getting ready for the arrival of our little parasite, we have been pretty busy. Hopefully I can get this thing updated a little more often!
Until next time!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
16 Weeks 5 Days (Part 2)
I threw that last post up rather quickly. Nicole felt a "flutter". We still don't know for sure, but wow, who knew such a simple thing could be so exciting. She wasn't sure if it was a kick or not -- she had the beagle in her lap. It could have been his tummy rumbling. Anyways, I was already asking a lot if the baby had kicked; now, I'm thinking I'll be asking WAY more often, and I'll be adding a hand to her tummy each and every time. Yup. I'm excited. Just. A. Little. Bit.
So I'm way overdue for an update. Things have been CRAZY. We were hard at work refinancing our mortgage with a real bank (long story, but HUGE savings for us, hooray!). Just finished that and a tape library in Montreal exploded in a fiery stream of molten slag, and I had to rush out there and fix it. Nicole hates it when I have to travel for a few days; Pregnant Nicole despises when I travel.
While in Montreal we got bad news. Our sweet little Bear needs surgery. She has a bum knee and needs two operations on one leg, with another operation likely to follow not long after on the other hind leg. "Luxating Patella" and "Cranial Cruciate Ligament Rupture". Well, recovery means the poor thing has to live in a cage pretty much for six months. Bear, for those that don't know, is a very active, highly excitable dog of only three. I know we can do the surgery, but I worry about this recovery; and so we have to think about that horrible option C. Needless to say, getting this news while I was out of town was unfortunate.
So I finished up, came home, and took Friday off to start painting the nursery. Took me four hours to clear the junk out of the room, which left me an hour to paint before I had to pick up Nicole. I surprised her and took her out to lunch at Martinis, a nice fancy restaurant here in town (one that I get to visit on business lunches often, but she seldom gets to enjoy). We had fun, and both wished she could have a drink. By the time we got home, we had entered couch potato mode, and vegged for the night. Saturday was pretty much errand day. Sunday I went to see Iron Man 2 and then... came down with the FLU. Still fighting it now. Boy, did I feel like crap.
So that's the update, and my excuses for not posting. I might go into more specifics in a day or two on one or two items. Definitely more on the nursery. Later all.
So I'm way overdue for an update. Things have been CRAZY. We were hard at work refinancing our mortgage with a real bank (long story, but HUGE savings for us, hooray!). Just finished that and a tape library in Montreal exploded in a fiery stream of molten slag, and I had to rush out there and fix it. Nicole hates it when I have to travel for a few days; Pregnant Nicole despises when I travel.
While in Montreal we got bad news. Our sweet little Bear needs surgery. She has a bum knee and needs two operations on one leg, with another operation likely to follow not long after on the other hind leg. "Luxating Patella" and "Cranial Cruciate Ligament Rupture". Well, recovery means the poor thing has to live in a cage pretty much for six months. Bear, for those that don't know, is a very active, highly excitable dog of only three. I know we can do the surgery, but I worry about this recovery; and so we have to think about that horrible option C. Needless to say, getting this news while I was out of town was unfortunate.
So I finished up, came home, and took Friday off to start painting the nursery. Took me four hours to clear the junk out of the room, which left me an hour to paint before I had to pick up Nicole. I surprised her and took her out to lunch at Martinis, a nice fancy restaurant here in town (one that I get to visit on business lunches often, but she seldom gets to enjoy). We had fun, and both wished she could have a drink. By the time we got home, we had entered couch potato mode, and vegged for the night. Saturday was pretty much errand day. Sunday I went to see Iron Man 2 and then... came down with the FLU. Still fighting it now. Boy, did I feel like crap.
So that's the update, and my excuses for not posting. I might go into more specifics in a day or two on one or two items. Definitely more on the nursery. Later all.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
13 Weeks 4 Days
This afternoon we got to see the first images of our little parasite. I was surprised at how much the little guy (no we don't know that for sure, I'm still kind of insisting) moved about. He was waving his arms around like Michael Jackson in his prime, and I'm pretty sure I saw a summersault; Nicole thinks it was just the scanner-thingy moving. I think he was practicing kung-fu.
So above, you can see the entire baby. Below is a close up of his face (from the side, and looking up if you cannot make it out). You can pretty clearly see his nose and chin, and maybe a little of his mouth. Pretty wild!
Oh, and if you look closely, you can make out a beard; obviously it’s a boy ;)
(Click the images to see them bigger)
Friday, April 16, 2010
To my Mom
I’m in an interesting place in my life right now. With the baby on the way I’m suddenly faced with a horrifying fact; I need to grow up, just a little bit, and be an adult. So I’ve been going over our bills and spending, I just refinanced our mortgage, and I’m looking at our finances with more detail than ever before. I’ve always taken a rather lazy approach to such matters, always relying on luck that something would come up and save our collective asses at the last hour. Now, I’m faced with the daunting task of completely supporting another life; it’s time to get serious.
I’ve been thinking about my mother a lot the past couple months. Seeing what Nicole is going through has me wondering at what my mom went through with me. I wonder if I made her feel like dog poo for nine months; I asked, and she claims it was not that bad, but her memory is about as reliable as mine.
Then there is the whole childhood thing. I was a rotten little brat. I opened my presents at Christmas time with an exact-o knife, and then resealed them so that I could act surprised on Christmas morning. I tortured my sister. Every time I was asked to clean my room I acted liked she had asked for my kidney. I took off whenever possible before the chores could be handed out. Like any other bratty kid, I yelled at her far more than I’d like to admit. And yeah, I know; I can look forward to my kid getting payback for her.
When I was in my early teens, my parents split up. My sister and I lived with my mom. I don’t remember torturing her any less than when she at least had a little help from dad. She worked, full time, and somehow still had time to keep the house spotless with no real help from us. She made sure we were always fed, always had clothes on our backs. She was always there for me when I needed to talk. When I went through a bad bout with depression, she always gave me money to rent a movie on a Saturday night, which made me feel a little better. And she did all this on the salary of a receptionist.
This blows my mind. I’ve got a pretty decent paying job now, and a working wife to help share the burden; but the bills are still a struggle. Mom did this completely by herself. She had no real support system, no one she could talk to; kids don’t realize that grownups (I guess that’s me now!) need someone to talk to, too. No one to help with the chores, not really(Right now, I’m working till 5, and then doing any chores that need doing, because Nicole is not well enough – and I’m TIRED! And my house right now is nowhere near as clean as my mom’s was!). Every month she paid the bills on time, and supported us in every way we needed.
My mom is a damn super hero!
I’m hoping that as a parent, I can do half as much as she did for me. I want my children to have everything; my mom always made sure that we did, so that’s only fair. I once sat on my mom’s bed, late at night after returning from a party, and told her that I had had a drink or two for the first time. That’s how much trust I had in her. Because I always knew she would be there for me. And she still is.
Mom, thanks for being so great. I love you.
I’ve been thinking about my mother a lot the past couple months. Seeing what Nicole is going through has me wondering at what my mom went through with me. I wonder if I made her feel like dog poo for nine months; I asked, and she claims it was not that bad, but her memory is about as reliable as mine.
Then there is the whole childhood thing. I was a rotten little brat. I opened my presents at Christmas time with an exact-o knife, and then resealed them so that I could act surprised on Christmas morning. I tortured my sister. Every time I was asked to clean my room I acted liked she had asked for my kidney. I took off whenever possible before the chores could be handed out. Like any other bratty kid, I yelled at her far more than I’d like to admit. And yeah, I know; I can look forward to my kid getting payback for her.
When I was in my early teens, my parents split up. My sister and I lived with my mom. I don’t remember torturing her any less than when she at least had a little help from dad. She worked, full time, and somehow still had time to keep the house spotless with no real help from us. She made sure we were always fed, always had clothes on our backs. She was always there for me when I needed to talk. When I went through a bad bout with depression, she always gave me money to rent a movie on a Saturday night, which made me feel a little better. And she did all this on the salary of a receptionist.
This blows my mind. I’ve got a pretty decent paying job now, and a working wife to help share the burden; but the bills are still a struggle. Mom did this completely by herself. She had no real support system, no one she could talk to; kids don’t realize that grownups (I guess that’s me now!) need someone to talk to, too. No one to help with the chores, not really(Right now, I’m working till 5, and then doing any chores that need doing, because Nicole is not well enough – and I’m TIRED! And my house right now is nowhere near as clean as my mom’s was!). Every month she paid the bills on time, and supported us in every way we needed.
My mom is a damn super hero!
I’m hoping that as a parent, I can do half as much as she did for me. I want my children to have everything; my mom always made sure that we did, so that’s only fair. I once sat on my mom’s bed, late at night after returning from a party, and told her that I had had a drink or two for the first time. That’s how much trust I had in her. Because I always knew she would be there for me. And she still is.
Mom, thanks for being so great. I love you.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
12 Weeks 4 Days
Ok, so I'm a big nasty slacker, and I have been terrible at slacking in my still relatively new blogging duties. So spank me. Seriously. I'd like that.
But guess what? I have pretty much one of the greatest, non-trumpable excuses ever. My wife is pregnant. Hey, she uses the excuse every time she asks me to get her a snack or has a "headache", so I might as well suckle a bit at the teat of that excuse (Wow -- I've been reading way too many baby books).
So how have the Dunkley's been? I'm pretty sorry to say, things have been miserable. We're both tired and cranky (her for obvious reasons, mine because, well, I'm such a wonderful husband that taking care of the zoo and house and her have me pretty beat; yes, that's a bit of self-pity, and I realise what's she's going through is waaay beyond comparisons, but damn, this is MY blog and I'll bitch if I want to). Nicole is still sick, and the heartburn has not lessened at all. She sleeps ok; when she's not up every hour peeing (yes, already), which is 50-60% of the time. Her appetite is making her hate her favourite foods (Pizza night?? Nooooo! Come back!) and crave items I've never seen her eat in the decade we've been together. It's a wild ride, and we are only now approaching the end of the first trimester.
An old English teacher of mine taught us to always close an article on a positive note, so I did keep the good news for last. We had our first prenatal appointment today (excluding the "I need to stop throwing up", "my tummy hurts", "my stomach burns" and the actual "I think we are pregnant" appointments). Which means, for the first time, I got to hear the sound of my SON'S heartbeat. Pretty neat. I guess the little bugger really is in there, and my wife isn't faking it to get me to do the dishes. Now if only he would stop beating up on his mom so we could enjoy it a little more. Next appointment; in one week we get the first ultrasound. I'm hoping we can once and for all settle the matter that he's a boy, but that's hardly guaranteed this early.
But guess what? I have pretty much one of the greatest, non-trumpable excuses ever. My wife is pregnant. Hey, she uses the excuse every time she asks me to get her a snack or has a "headache", so I might as well suckle a bit at the teat of that excuse (Wow -- I've been reading way too many baby books).
So how have the Dunkley's been? I'm pretty sorry to say, things have been miserable. We're both tired and cranky (her for obvious reasons, mine because, well, I'm such a wonderful husband that taking care of the zoo and house and her have me pretty beat; yes, that's a bit of self-pity, and I realise what's she's going through is waaay beyond comparisons, but damn, this is MY blog and I'll bitch if I want to). Nicole is still sick, and the heartburn has not lessened at all. She sleeps ok; when she's not up every hour peeing (yes, already), which is 50-60% of the time. Her appetite is making her hate her favourite foods (Pizza night?? Nooooo! Come back!) and crave items I've never seen her eat in the decade we've been together. It's a wild ride, and we are only now approaching the end of the first trimester.
An old English teacher of mine taught us to always close an article on a positive note, so I did keep the good news for last. We had our first prenatal appointment today (excluding the "I need to stop throwing up", "my tummy hurts", "my stomach burns" and the actual "I think we are pregnant" appointments). Which means, for the first time, I got to hear the sound of my SON'S heartbeat. Pretty neat. I guess the little bugger really is in there, and my wife isn't faking it to get me to do the dishes. Now if only he would stop beating up on his mom so we could enjoy it a little more. Next appointment; in one week we get the first ultrasound. I'm hoping we can once and for all settle the matter that he's a boy, but that's hardly guaranteed this early.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
A tale of two dogs
So I was fooling around in my word processor, trying to come up with an idea for a story. I wanted something fun, and not really like my usuall works. I glanced over at Bear, my sweet little Rotty, and had a bit of inspiration. Its a day in the life of my two dogs, as if written by my Beagle (I struggled with Bear as the main character but decided she was too dopey to write a story) Heres a little bit:
6:59am
There's light outside, now. I have to pee, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever eat again. I'm sure it's been weeks since the last time we had a meal. Weeks! Bear's awake, but the silly monster is lying on her back, a dazed expression on her face. She's drooling a little bit, too. It must be almost time to-
The bedroom just opened! My sister beats me to our door only by a tail -and a stub of a tail at that. Her tail is at it again, but then mine is a little out of my control too. I don't care; I'm nearly positive that its breakfast time! We hear the bathroom, and mom talking to the cats. The felines are crowded outside our door; they get fed in here, while we go downstairs to eat. Humans have the strangest ideas about these things.
Our door opens, and ohmygodtheresmommy!
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Its a small step, but a step nontheless..
I have officially published my first article on an online website. Yup. I reveiwed Mass Effect 2, and the wonderful folks at Associated Content will actually pay me if people read the article. Its just a small pay-per-view site, but its something.
Check it out here and earn me some revenue: Associated Content
Check it out here and earn me some revenue: Associated Content
Friday, March 26, 2010
9 Weeks 6 Days
Well, I guess the countdown to second trimester has begun. Two more weeks, and we get to finally have our first ultrasound, and we get to see the first images of the little squirt that's making mommy's (and daddy's!) life so hard these days. Two weeks, and we can tell our friends, co-workers and family that we haven't already told out of impatience. Two weeks until we enter the "good" trimester, and my wife will feel a little better (Hopefully!). I gotta say, I'm getting pretty excited.
Nicole is doing well today; I talked to her at work, and thought she sounded better. I came home to a wondrous sight; she was smiling! Her words; "[She] feels better than [she] has in a month and a half". The infection is gone, though she's still mighty sleepy. She came down with some pretty bad heartburn (GERN to be more specific)last week that has her mostly miserable; but last night the medicine did the trick, and she had a great sleep. Today, it was like my wife had come home, and boy did I miss her!
She actually admitted talking to the little parasite, using a girl's name we are not actually gonna use (first, it's clearly not a girl, and second, I am not naming my child after alcohol). Call me a sap, but I found myself grinning when she said it; I think that was the first time she talked about him like a person, and a person she was excited to see. Did I mention I'm excited??
So here we go with another weekend. And here's hoping the medicine continues to do its trick, and my wife sticks around a while for a visit.
Nicole is doing well today; I talked to her at work, and thought she sounded better. I came home to a wondrous sight; she was smiling! Her words; "[She] feels better than [she] has in a month and a half". The infection is gone, though she's still mighty sleepy. She came down with some pretty bad heartburn (GERN to be more specific)last week that has her mostly miserable; but last night the medicine did the trick, and she had a great sleep. Today, it was like my wife had come home, and boy did I miss her!
She actually admitted talking to the little parasite, using a girl's name we are not actually gonna use (first, it's clearly not a girl, and second, I am not naming my child after alcohol). Call me a sap, but I found myself grinning when she said it; I think that was the first time she talked about him like a person, and a person she was excited to see. Did I mention I'm excited??
So here we go with another weekend. And here's hoping the medicine continues to do its trick, and my wife sticks around a while for a visit.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Almost There...
I finished the first draft of my short story, The Unremarkable Marcus Frinkle. I'm excited. Now I need to give it a thorough edit, and I can send it off to a magazine. Early next week, I’m thinking.
That’s about it for now.
That’s about it for now.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
8 Weeks 3 Days
I took a couple days off of blogging, because, well, I didn't really have anything to write. My wife was feeling well enough (but still crappy) to make that trip to Baby's R Us -- and Sears, the Bay and Wal-Mart. Wow, there sure is a lot of stuff you can buy your baby for the year or so they are small enough to actually use that junk. I'd love to be able to say "you won't catch me blowing my hard earned bills on that crap", but I know full well my child will be a spoiled rotten little brat, and that I will buy him or her (him please!) everything I can possible manage.
Anyways, I was surprised at how large Baby's R Us was -- easily the largest of what we visited. Wal-Mart and Sears had a good selection, about what you would expect, and my wife loved the ample supply of Winnie the Pooh product at Wal-Mart (she’s a big fan of that depressing bugger Eyore). The Bay was rather disappointing; it was picked over and kind of messy, reminding me a little of the Christmas section at any store, about a week after Christmas.
Anyways, other than that, it’s been business as usual. The urinary infection seems better; enough that she can better notice just how nauseous she is. She’s sleeping a lot.
I'm bored and lonely, and I miss my wife. I'm sooo lucking forward to the end of the first trimester, and desperately hoping she feels better as all the pregnancy books have been promising me.
Anyways, I was surprised at how large Baby's R Us was -- easily the largest of what we visited. Wal-Mart and Sears had a good selection, about what you would expect, and my wife loved the ample supply of Winnie the Pooh product at Wal-Mart (she’s a big fan of that depressing bugger Eyore). The Bay was rather disappointing; it was picked over and kind of messy, reminding me a little of the Christmas section at any store, about a week after Christmas.
Anyways, other than that, it’s been business as usual. The urinary infection seems better; enough that she can better notice just how nauseous she is. She’s sleeping a lot.
I'm bored and lonely, and I miss my wife. I'm sooo lucking forward to the end of the first trimester, and desperately hoping she feels better as all the pregnancy books have been promising me.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
7 Weeks 5 Days
The first week of the pregnancy (week 5 technically, but it was the first week we knew about it) was the worst so far; she was vomiting every half an hour all day long like clockwork. She had intense pain in her abdomen and lower back. That week she barely got out of bed, except to go to the doctor to confirm the pregnancy. Two days later, we also solved the pain in her abdomen; a urinary tract infection. Since then, she has felt better; and still, any time I ask her how she is feeling, the inevitable answer is “like crap”.
Today, we got a call from that doctor; the infection is still there, which likely has something to do with the “like crap” answer. The good news; if it actually gets better this time, there is still the potential that she will start to feel a little better. I’m not sure clearing it up will have any effect on the nearly constant nausea (with medication) nor the body numbing tiredness that has her feeling like she’s sleeping her life away, but if I could actually see a smile or two from her I’d be a happy man.
This all has me feeling a little guilty; I kind of put her in this mess, and it was likely my idea (all right, it was my idea). But on top of that, I’m wondering about what my mother must have gone through, and feeling bad about that. For the first time in my life, I actually get why we have a Mother’s Day. So next time I talk to my mom, I’m going to apologize for the nine months of torture I likely put her through. And this May, even though the baby is still a long ways away, my poor wife gets to celebrate her first Mother’s day.
We never made it to Babies R Us, by the way.
Today, we got a call from that doctor; the infection is still there, which likely has something to do with the “like crap” answer. The good news; if it actually gets better this time, there is still the potential that she will start to feel a little better. I’m not sure clearing it up will have any effect on the nearly constant nausea (with medication) nor the body numbing tiredness that has her feeling like she’s sleeping her life away, but if I could actually see a smile or two from her I’d be a happy man.
This all has me feeling a little guilty; I kind of put her in this mess, and it was likely my idea (all right, it was my idea). But on top of that, I’m wondering about what my mother must have gone through, and feeling bad about that. For the first time in my life, I actually get why we have a Mother’s Day. So next time I talk to my mom, I’m going to apologize for the nine months of torture I likely put her through. And this May, even though the baby is still a long ways away, my poor wife gets to celebrate her first Mother’s day.
We never made it to Babies R Us, by the way.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Teaser
Getting close to finishing up that short story. Heres another excerpt I just finished that kind of amuses me.
Ms. Steve laughed, like a big biker tickled in just the right spot. “Sweets, this is no dream. And as to your question; I guess you could say that the Crazy Monkey is located in the cracks in between everything, sort of in the middle of a river of nothingness next to the tall banks of something. Not quite in space, but not really anywhere else, either. A little something and a little nothing all rolled together into a bundle of entertainment, providing the best drinks the universe – or anywhere else – has to offer.”
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
The Savage Queen
Well, I don't really have anything interesting to say today, so I thought I would throw this out there for your consideration. This is the prolouge to my novel The Savage Queen, for which I am currently seeking a publisher. Enjoy, and feel free to let me know what you think in the comments.
Prologue
The wind sliced through the narrow pass like a blade, stirring the thin blanket of snow and shaking the tall evergreens that stood atop the steep cliffs like a row of sentries. The rocky peaks of the Great Divide towered in the distance, casting the winding gash into darkness, the sun a dull smudge of light on the horizon, struggling to break through the overcast sky. Bannah’s Pass cut through the mighty mountains that divided the land in two, a deep winding crevice just wide enough for several wagons to travel abreast. The vicars would claim that mighty Bannah, the god of thunder, had cracked the earth itself with his legendary war hammer, throwing the god Tempal back to the underworld he ruled. That mighty blow had opened the east to the west, smashing down the jagged peaks, reducing them to rubble that clogged the twisting path.
A road had been built, blacker than night and as strong as granite, following the way of the pass, a road so ancient that no human remembered who built it. Despite the ages, the road ran unblemished and perfect, a tattoo upon the land that would forever tell of humanity’s passing. The Highway went on for miles, from coast to coast, east to west and north to south, connecting a once proud kingdom of man. The road burrowed its way through the mountains, and emerged on the wide Coorin Plains.
Stone assembled with skill formed a wall spanning the mouth of the pass, standing nearly forty feet tall and twenty thick, broken by a heavy gate mounting the old road. Atop the battlements one young boy strolled carelessly, his wide mouth set in a frown of boredom. Tobey Shuffle, of the clan Gidran, was young; too young, in fact, to hold the position he held with the garrison at the Watch. He strolled along the top of the wall, occasionally glancing out into the snow swept bareness of the pass, moving already with a touch of the wide legged gait of a man that spent more time on the back of a horse than on his own two legs. His reddish hair was an unkempt mess, tossed about in the strong mountain winds; he had been away from the courts of Lyre –and his ever watchful mother – for nearly a month, and the mop was considerably longer than when last she had seen him. Why, he laughed suddenly, he doubted she would even recognize him!
Tobey approached a guard standing watch over the lands below, decked out in heavy leathers, bearing a crude looking axe at his side. The guard glanced at him with a grin, and playfully rattled the weapon against the small buckler he held. The boy laughed, and continued on; the guard was his second cousin Ham, and had always treated him well, even if the grizzled old guard sometimes acted a little funny.
Of course, he admitted to himself, every single man stationed at the small castle was family; that was the way of the Watch. Each clan sent a force to man the walls for one month, thereby splitting the cost between the entire kingdom, instead of just one clan or another. The Gidran clan’s rotation was nearly finished; only a few days remained before they could return to their farms and steads, or quarters among the palace at Lyre, where Tobey called home. He smiled; though he would miss the Watch and even his duties there, he was looking forward to seeing his friends again. And besides, the Watch was kind of boring. Nothing ever actually happened in the lands beyond the towering wall.
He again glanced over the parapet with disinterest; his eyes narrowed suddenly. He was sure he had seen something move in the pass. As he leaned forward trying in vain to get a better view, the bell atop the watch tower began to toll, and he jumped back startled. Tobey glanced back towards his cousin; the guard stood still as stone, his mouth open in shock as he stared down at the ancient road.
Tobey frowned, and stomped down a sudden burst of excitement; well, this was new! Never in the whole month had the bell sounded, and he struggled to recall what his father had taught him.
Below, the winds seemed to stop, and the snow settled. Suddenly the road was visible, stretching off into the distance, winding its way deeper into the mountains. As the snow settled, a small host of creatures seemed to emerge from nothingness. Tobey felt one starring right at him, right into his very soul, and shivered. He fought back tears that suddenly wanted to form in his dark eyes.
They stood tall, those creatures that emerged from the west, atop two legs and swinging two arms, manlike in appearance, humanlike but inhuman nonetheless. They were pale, each and every one, untouchable by the fury of the sun. Pale eyes watched the watchers, and thin bloodless lips turned upwards in grim smiles. The inhumans moved with cat like grace, yet carried themselves with the strength of bulls, their thin bodies deceivingly frail looking. They emerged, marching right from legend and history and the nightmares of humans. The alfin had come again at last.
Tobey stifled a scream. With sudden clarity he knew what the bell meant. He turned, and ran as fast as he could. He passed his cousin Ham, who seemed frozen as he watched the alfin form up below, beyond the range of their defenses. Shouts filled the air, and the courtyard was filled as the clan sprang into action. He barely noticed his father and Clan Lord Danerick enter the watch tower from the ground almost directly below him.
The watch tower stood in the center of the wall, granting an almost unobstructed view of the Pass, when the weather was clear. Tobey reached the tower quickly, and slammed open the door, entering the tower from the wall. He sped through the small war room within, ignoring the shocked looks from clansmen, and crashed back out the other side onto the wall; He thought he heard his fathers voice from the stairwell leading down as he passed by. The boy sped along, eventually reaching a smaller tower on the northeast end of the wall, which he entered in a rush.
The middle floor of the tower was packed with stores, which he ignored; sacks of seeds, bundles of dried jerky, heavy jugs of the dark nectar the carrier shriekers enjoyed. He snatched a big piece of the meat, and mounted the stairs at a sprint, his lungs burning. Above, he could already hear the screams of the shriekers– the sound of the watch towers bell had upset them, or maybe they sensed something unusual was going on.
Tobey ran into the kennel, and moved immediately to the small desk near the stairs. He produced a small slip of paper, and found pen and ink. Carefully, he etched out the message. He bounced impatiently from foot to foot as he waited for the ink to dry.
He had learned to care for the shriekers in the church at Lyre; the kennel master there had exclaimed he had a natural talent with the creatures, and his father claimed that skill was a good part of why he had been allowed to join the clan when they garrisoned the Watch, several years too young. He glanced at the note, which was nearly dry; his only duty here was to care for the creatures, and, in the unlucky event of an invasion, send a warning to Dimir. That’s what the bell meant, at least for him.
Carefully, he rolled the thin paper into a small leather tube, and turned toward the cages. Each enclosure was walled in with heavy steel bars. The shriekers could easily tear through the strongest wood if they chose, and the creatures could be somewhat moody; the steel bars made sure they stayed put. He reached one cage, and the monster within. Barnacle, the shrieker was named; it was Tobey’s personal favorite.
He crouched in front of the cage, and tossed the jerky. Barnacle caught the meat easily in his long beak, and swallowed it without pause. Satisfied for the moment, the carrier shrieker screeched in greeting; the time was not long past when Tobey would have covered his ears at the piercing sound that had given the creatures their name, and he grinned despite the situation.
Barnacle waited as Tobey swung open the heavy door, and then shuffled forward awkwardly. Carefully, avoiding sudden movements that might startle the shrieker, Tobey reached forward with the leather tube, as he concentrated on sending calming thoughts to the creature. Quickly, with an experienced motion he was proud of, he fastened the message to the shriekers leg, and stepped back slowly.
Barnacle emerged from the cage, shaking its head like a dog shedding water, and then spread its wings in a stretch. The shrieker was larger than any other bird Tobey had ever heard of, weighing sometimes half as much as a full grown man. It bore no feathers, but was covered in leathery skin, much more alike the lizards he used to catch as a boy. Its small head stretched out to a point, a beak a foot and a half long, and lined with hundreds of tiny razor sharp teeth; there were stories of wild shriekers that had taken the arm off a full grown man. Its wings stretched out like bat wings, a thin leathery membrane stretched tight over a deceivingly gentle appearing framework of bones and cartilage, its wingspan often ten or twelve feet wide. Some used the creatures as hunters, or even trackers, but the uncanny speed and distance the shriekers could cover made them ideal as carrier birds, carrying message from one city to another far faster than any horse could hope to travel.
Follow me, Tobey thought at the shrieker, and once again wondered just how much the creature understood. Surely, it was his imagination that Barnacle seemed to nod before waddling after him. Tobey turned, and made his way to the large barn doors in the south side of the tower. He removed the crossbeam, and pulled the heavy doors open; his view of the plains to the south was unobstructed, and he would swear he could almost make out the towers of Dimir somewhere in the distance. He grinned; his imagination was working overtime.
He knelt before the bird, feeding it another large piece of jerky; “Dimir,” he said, concentrating on the capital city of the kingdom. “The message is for Dimir.” The shrieker shuffled to the edge, and threw itself out; its wings filled like sails, and the creature sped off into the distance.
Tobey turned, and went to a north facing window, not even bothering to shut the doors. He glanced out again, and shuddered. Already, hundreds of the inhumans had gathered in Bannah’s Pass.
Prologue
The wind sliced through the narrow pass like a blade, stirring the thin blanket of snow and shaking the tall evergreens that stood atop the steep cliffs like a row of sentries. The rocky peaks of the Great Divide towered in the distance, casting the winding gash into darkness, the sun a dull smudge of light on the horizon, struggling to break through the overcast sky. Bannah’s Pass cut through the mighty mountains that divided the land in two, a deep winding crevice just wide enough for several wagons to travel abreast. The vicars would claim that mighty Bannah, the god of thunder, had cracked the earth itself with his legendary war hammer, throwing the god Tempal back to the underworld he ruled. That mighty blow had opened the east to the west, smashing down the jagged peaks, reducing them to rubble that clogged the twisting path.
A road had been built, blacker than night and as strong as granite, following the way of the pass, a road so ancient that no human remembered who built it. Despite the ages, the road ran unblemished and perfect, a tattoo upon the land that would forever tell of humanity’s passing. The Highway went on for miles, from coast to coast, east to west and north to south, connecting a once proud kingdom of man. The road burrowed its way through the mountains, and emerged on the wide Coorin Plains.
Stone assembled with skill formed a wall spanning the mouth of the pass, standing nearly forty feet tall and twenty thick, broken by a heavy gate mounting the old road. Atop the battlements one young boy strolled carelessly, his wide mouth set in a frown of boredom. Tobey Shuffle, of the clan Gidran, was young; too young, in fact, to hold the position he held with the garrison at the Watch. He strolled along the top of the wall, occasionally glancing out into the snow swept bareness of the pass, moving already with a touch of the wide legged gait of a man that spent more time on the back of a horse than on his own two legs. His reddish hair was an unkempt mess, tossed about in the strong mountain winds; he had been away from the courts of Lyre –and his ever watchful mother – for nearly a month, and the mop was considerably longer than when last she had seen him. Why, he laughed suddenly, he doubted she would even recognize him!
Tobey approached a guard standing watch over the lands below, decked out in heavy leathers, bearing a crude looking axe at his side. The guard glanced at him with a grin, and playfully rattled the weapon against the small buckler he held. The boy laughed, and continued on; the guard was his second cousin Ham, and had always treated him well, even if the grizzled old guard sometimes acted a little funny.
Of course, he admitted to himself, every single man stationed at the small castle was family; that was the way of the Watch. Each clan sent a force to man the walls for one month, thereby splitting the cost between the entire kingdom, instead of just one clan or another. The Gidran clan’s rotation was nearly finished; only a few days remained before they could return to their farms and steads, or quarters among the palace at Lyre, where Tobey called home. He smiled; though he would miss the Watch and even his duties there, he was looking forward to seeing his friends again. And besides, the Watch was kind of boring. Nothing ever actually happened in the lands beyond the towering wall.
He again glanced over the parapet with disinterest; his eyes narrowed suddenly. He was sure he had seen something move in the pass. As he leaned forward trying in vain to get a better view, the bell atop the watch tower began to toll, and he jumped back startled. Tobey glanced back towards his cousin; the guard stood still as stone, his mouth open in shock as he stared down at the ancient road.
Tobey frowned, and stomped down a sudden burst of excitement; well, this was new! Never in the whole month had the bell sounded, and he struggled to recall what his father had taught him.
Below, the winds seemed to stop, and the snow settled. Suddenly the road was visible, stretching off into the distance, winding its way deeper into the mountains. As the snow settled, a small host of creatures seemed to emerge from nothingness. Tobey felt one starring right at him, right into his very soul, and shivered. He fought back tears that suddenly wanted to form in his dark eyes.
They stood tall, those creatures that emerged from the west, atop two legs and swinging two arms, manlike in appearance, humanlike but inhuman nonetheless. They were pale, each and every one, untouchable by the fury of the sun. Pale eyes watched the watchers, and thin bloodless lips turned upwards in grim smiles. The inhumans moved with cat like grace, yet carried themselves with the strength of bulls, their thin bodies deceivingly frail looking. They emerged, marching right from legend and history and the nightmares of humans. The alfin had come again at last.
Tobey stifled a scream. With sudden clarity he knew what the bell meant. He turned, and ran as fast as he could. He passed his cousin Ham, who seemed frozen as he watched the alfin form up below, beyond the range of their defenses. Shouts filled the air, and the courtyard was filled as the clan sprang into action. He barely noticed his father and Clan Lord Danerick enter the watch tower from the ground almost directly below him.
The watch tower stood in the center of the wall, granting an almost unobstructed view of the Pass, when the weather was clear. Tobey reached the tower quickly, and slammed open the door, entering the tower from the wall. He sped through the small war room within, ignoring the shocked looks from clansmen, and crashed back out the other side onto the wall; He thought he heard his fathers voice from the stairwell leading down as he passed by. The boy sped along, eventually reaching a smaller tower on the northeast end of the wall, which he entered in a rush.
The middle floor of the tower was packed with stores, which he ignored; sacks of seeds, bundles of dried jerky, heavy jugs of the dark nectar the carrier shriekers enjoyed. He snatched a big piece of the meat, and mounted the stairs at a sprint, his lungs burning. Above, he could already hear the screams of the shriekers– the sound of the watch towers bell had upset them, or maybe they sensed something unusual was going on.
Tobey ran into the kennel, and moved immediately to the small desk near the stairs. He produced a small slip of paper, and found pen and ink. Carefully, he etched out the message. He bounced impatiently from foot to foot as he waited for the ink to dry.
He had learned to care for the shriekers in the church at Lyre; the kennel master there had exclaimed he had a natural talent with the creatures, and his father claimed that skill was a good part of why he had been allowed to join the clan when they garrisoned the Watch, several years too young. He glanced at the note, which was nearly dry; his only duty here was to care for the creatures, and, in the unlucky event of an invasion, send a warning to Dimir. That’s what the bell meant, at least for him.
Carefully, he rolled the thin paper into a small leather tube, and turned toward the cages. Each enclosure was walled in with heavy steel bars. The shriekers could easily tear through the strongest wood if they chose, and the creatures could be somewhat moody; the steel bars made sure they stayed put. He reached one cage, and the monster within. Barnacle, the shrieker was named; it was Tobey’s personal favorite.
He crouched in front of the cage, and tossed the jerky. Barnacle caught the meat easily in his long beak, and swallowed it without pause. Satisfied for the moment, the carrier shrieker screeched in greeting; the time was not long past when Tobey would have covered his ears at the piercing sound that had given the creatures their name, and he grinned despite the situation.
Barnacle waited as Tobey swung open the heavy door, and then shuffled forward awkwardly. Carefully, avoiding sudden movements that might startle the shrieker, Tobey reached forward with the leather tube, as he concentrated on sending calming thoughts to the creature. Quickly, with an experienced motion he was proud of, he fastened the message to the shriekers leg, and stepped back slowly.
Barnacle emerged from the cage, shaking its head like a dog shedding water, and then spread its wings in a stretch. The shrieker was larger than any other bird Tobey had ever heard of, weighing sometimes half as much as a full grown man. It bore no feathers, but was covered in leathery skin, much more alike the lizards he used to catch as a boy. Its small head stretched out to a point, a beak a foot and a half long, and lined with hundreds of tiny razor sharp teeth; there were stories of wild shriekers that had taken the arm off a full grown man. Its wings stretched out like bat wings, a thin leathery membrane stretched tight over a deceivingly gentle appearing framework of bones and cartilage, its wingspan often ten or twelve feet wide. Some used the creatures as hunters, or even trackers, but the uncanny speed and distance the shriekers could cover made them ideal as carrier birds, carrying message from one city to another far faster than any horse could hope to travel.
Follow me, Tobey thought at the shrieker, and once again wondered just how much the creature understood. Surely, it was his imagination that Barnacle seemed to nod before waddling after him. Tobey turned, and made his way to the large barn doors in the south side of the tower. He removed the crossbeam, and pulled the heavy doors open; his view of the plains to the south was unobstructed, and he would swear he could almost make out the towers of Dimir somewhere in the distance. He grinned; his imagination was working overtime.
He knelt before the bird, feeding it another large piece of jerky; “Dimir,” he said, concentrating on the capital city of the kingdom. “The message is for Dimir.” The shrieker shuffled to the edge, and threw itself out; its wings filled like sails, and the creature sped off into the distance.
Tobey turned, and went to a north facing window, not even bothering to shut the doors. He glanced out again, and shuddered. Already, hundreds of the inhumans had gathered in Bannah’s Pass.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Sandra Bullock at the Razzies
Sandra Bullock actually showed up to receive her Razzie (Worst Movie Award) for her role in "All About Steve". Classy move, I think. And her acceptance speech actually made me kind of want to see the darn movie. Check it out below.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
What I'm Reading
I decided to take a break from Fantasy for a bit (I just finished SM Stirling's Sword of the Lady with an 
appalling realization -- that I have to wait till September to read the next chapter!) and picked up a nice little anthology from the discount table at Chapters. The Starry Rift
(edited by Jonathan Strahan) has sixteen SF short stories that harkens back to the golden age of SF. Some nice works here, including stories by Neil Gaiman and Alastair Reynolds among many others. I'm about a quarter way in so far, and definitely digging the shorter format; admittedly, I'm hoping for inspiration for my own endeavours. Couple quick notes on some of what I've read thus far:
Ass-Hat Magic Spider by Scott Westerfeld: This was a very simple story, and the one that most inspires me for the story I'm currently working on. A very straightforward concept (involving such a basic item as a bathroom scale of all things) with a cast of only two characters. And yet, in only the very limited number of pages available, the author manages to form that wonderful bond between protagonist and reader. There is a nice little bit with a connection of sorts to a work of classic fiction; a theme I noticed showed up in a few stories in this anthology.
Orange by Neil Gaiman: I've read a few stories by Neil Gaiman; I suppose the thing I can most say about this one is that it was the most unique format I've seen used in a short story. He certainly had me wondering where he was going with this one.
The long road to making it to print
So I'm realizing that publishing a book is not as easy as I had hoped (although deep down I kind of figured). I've had two rejections so far out of three submissions on my first real novel. I feel rather... well... rejected. But alas, I shall remain hopeful! I'm still confident (or arrogant) and I truly believe The Savage Queen is worthy of print; I just need another approach.
Well, on the advice of the interweb and googlepedia, I am going to pursue another avenue; the short story! This is a genre I've struggled with in the past. As a writer of all things fantastic or science fictiony, keeping the page-count down has always been a little tough. I guess I can view this as an opportunity as they say back in the real world. I suppose the short story is a valuable skill that I'm long overdue in spending some time on.
I've pulled from the dregs of my hard drive a little story I puttered with nearly ten years ago, a SF/comedy piece that I was always rather proud of. I think it's a good piece that shows I can write in different styles as well as genres. Here's hoping the publishers agree.
Here's an excerpt from what I have so far:
Well, on the advice of the interweb and googlepedia, I am going to pursue another avenue; the short story! This is a genre I've struggled with in the past. As a writer of all things fantastic or science fictiony, keeping the page-count down has always been a little tough. I guess I can view this as an opportunity as they say back in the real world. I suppose the short story is a valuable skill that I'm long overdue in spending some time on.
I've pulled from the dregs of my hard drive a little story I puttered with nearly ten years ago, a SF/comedy piece that I was always rather proud of. I think it's a good piece that shows I can write in different styles as well as genres. Here's hoping the publishers agree.
Here's an excerpt from what I have so far:
The Unremarkable Marcus Frinkle
He turned, content with the current status of his dinner, and ready to return once again to prime time. He jumped back, when to his surprise, he noticed a gigantic black man, with no fewer than four arms crossed mightily over his chest, standing directly in his way. The gigantic creature was successfully blocking the view of the room behind him, where Marcus noticed that for some odd reason he could no longer hear the television.
The giant, dressed in a neatly pressed and obviously custom-tailored tuxedo, adjusted his mirror-like shades, and nodded as if to an old friend. "Good to see you, Mr. Frinkle," he said in a deep voice, like the rumbling of tectonic plates, deep below the surface and ready to do something unexpected. "We have a table waiting for you, Mr. Frinkle. I'm Pip, and if anyone messes with you, just send' em my way. Ms. Steve don't like nobody messing with her guests, especially the special ones."
6 Weeks 6 Days
I can hardly believe it's been two weeks today since my wife peed on a stick, and our lives changed forever.
Since then, she's been sick, tired, and sick some more. She has turned out to be one of the lucky ones that gets to suffer miserably pretty much all the time while pregnant. I watch from the sidelines, wishing I could do anything to make her feel better; and realizing there is really little I can do, besides being as patient, understanding and loving as I can.
For those that don't know me personally, that's a tough list indeed!
This all means we have had zero moments to actually enjoy the fact that we are expecting. Privately, I can browse the internet for infant related items (blueprints for the cradle I keep wistfully saying I plan to build), and think about what it all means with a certain amount of giddiness. Then I see her clutching one body part or another in pain as she struggles to keep from vomiting (the title morning sickness is a cruel, cruel joke!) and that seemingly remote future vanishes in a cloud of empathy. I hate seeing her go through this, but at the same time I'm rather excited; it's a tough place to be, and we have a long, long ways to go.
But it's the weekend, and we both will have the chance to catch up on sleep. Hopefully tomorrow will see us in a happier place, and maybe we can have a chance to stop and think about the future in a positive light; I'm thinking a stop by Babies R Us might be fun. And likey she'll want a baked potatoe with the works for dinner. Again. And I'm cool with that.
Since then, she's been sick, tired, and sick some more. She has turned out to be one of the lucky ones that gets to suffer miserably pretty much all the time while pregnant. I watch from the sidelines, wishing I could do anything to make her feel better; and realizing there is really little I can do, besides being as patient, understanding and loving as I can.
For those that don't know me personally, that's a tough list indeed!
This all means we have had zero moments to actually enjoy the fact that we are expecting. Privately, I can browse the internet for infant related items (blueprints for the cradle I keep wistfully saying I plan to build), and think about what it all means with a certain amount of giddiness. Then I see her clutching one body part or another in pain as she struggles to keep from vomiting (the title morning sickness is a cruel, cruel joke!) and that seemingly remote future vanishes in a cloud of empathy. I hate seeing her go through this, but at the same time I'm rather excited; it's a tough place to be, and we have a long, long ways to go.
But it's the weekend, and we both will have the chance to catch up on sleep. Hopefully tomorrow will see us in a happier place, and maybe we can have a chance to stop and think about the future in a positive light; I'm thinking a stop by Babies R Us might be fun. And likey she'll want a baked potatoe with the works for dinner. Again. And I'm cool with that.
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