In my last poll I asked you, do you prefer reading using an eReader or a real book. Thankfully I don't have to smack anybody because you all voted in favour of an actually book.
In my opinion there is nothing like holding a book in your hands. The feel of the pages as you flip them. The shape of the spine as it bends when you hold it open. The smell of the ink and the paper. That crisp, whist, sound you hear when you turn the page to devour more of the story.
In between those pages is enough blood, sweat and tears to drown a small army. You might meet someone you like, maybe even someone you'll fall in love with. You could meet someone you despise and will continue to loathe until they no longer show up on that page any more. The worlds you can open between those two covers are as endless as the size and breadth of the universe.
I'm all for saving paper, reducing our carbon footprint and being a little less harsh to the planet that sustains us, but no electronic gadget (for me) can replace a book.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Lost in Transition
Fearless Reader,
It's been a long time since we last sat down together.
Life as always seems to have an interesting agenda that we don't always see coming. I've started my first novel. Nearly 40,000 words and going strong, it's a mystery/thriller/suspense starring a character I created for a short story that I wrote for a contest in April. Anyway, let me tell you a little bit of my life as a novelist so far.
I always thought of novelists as sexy, uber-attractive people who sit down at their large desks in the morning, wearing formal clothing in a casual way, a glass of scotch in their right hand and a pack of cigarettes in their left. They start with some light stretching of the neck and shoulders and then begin to pump out 3,000 words an hour, stopping only to refill their empty glass or light a new cigarette. Sometimes they would even light the new cigarette with the old one, I mean how fuckin' cool is that? They butt out into an upside down skull that's filled with sand. When the day's words are completed (and no doubt to perfection on the first try), he peels out of his garage in his luxury car, down the interlocking cobblestone driveway for a day of playing golf and receiving free drinks at the bar from starstruck fans.
Of course this is the writer's life right?
With the exception of the ruggedly handsome part, this could not be farther from the truth. First of all I'm only a 'part-time' writer, I still have my day job. You know, the kind of writer that slaves away on weekends and weeknights after coming home from the office, wading through the unknown every step through that first manuscript draft. Which turns out terrible by the way and has to be completely rewritten upon completion but more on that later.
Writing seems to be a lot like any other job. After getting up and downing several small buckets of coffee to fuel my mind and body, I get to play the game of 'do I write like I said I would?' or 'do I sit around in my underpants and insult teenagers while getting my ass handed to me in the latest Call of Duty?'. Invariably this road surprisingly always leads to me sitting on my cheap ass office chair, which sits in front of a very modest desk to begin the days' work.
Actually writing of course if only 40% writing though. Oh you didn't know that? Well FR 30% of the time you stare at the wall, or the floor, or even the ceiling but that can really put a kink in your neck. The other 30% of the time you google random shit. All the while your story becomes something that you didn't realize it would be and you create something amazing.
It's why I do what I do. It's why I love writing.
Faithfully Yours,
Zulu Whiskey
It's been a long time since we last sat down together.
Life as always seems to have an interesting agenda that we don't always see coming. I've started my first novel. Nearly 40,000 words and going strong, it's a mystery/thriller/suspense starring a character I created for a short story that I wrote for a contest in April. Anyway, let me tell you a little bit of my life as a novelist so far.
I always thought of novelists as sexy, uber-attractive people who sit down at their large desks in the morning, wearing formal clothing in a casual way, a glass of scotch in their right hand and a pack of cigarettes in their left. They start with some light stretching of the neck and shoulders and then begin to pump out 3,000 words an hour, stopping only to refill their empty glass or light a new cigarette. Sometimes they would even light the new cigarette with the old one, I mean how fuckin' cool is that? They butt out into an upside down skull that's filled with sand. When the day's words are completed (and no doubt to perfection on the first try), he peels out of his garage in his luxury car, down the interlocking cobblestone driveway for a day of playing golf and receiving free drinks at the bar from starstruck fans.
Of course this is the writer's life right?
With the exception of the ruggedly handsome part, this could not be farther from the truth. First of all I'm only a 'part-time' writer, I still have my day job. You know, the kind of writer that slaves away on weekends and weeknights after coming home from the office, wading through the unknown every step through that first manuscript draft. Which turns out terrible by the way and has to be completely rewritten upon completion but more on that later.
Writing seems to be a lot like any other job. After getting up and downing several small buckets of coffee to fuel my mind and body, I get to play the game of 'do I write like I said I would?' or 'do I sit around in my underpants and insult teenagers while getting my ass handed to me in the latest Call of Duty?'. Invariably this road surprisingly always leads to me sitting on my cheap ass office chair, which sits in front of a very modest desk to begin the days' work.
Actually writing of course if only 40% writing though. Oh you didn't know that? Well FR 30% of the time you stare at the wall, or the floor, or even the ceiling but that can really put a kink in your neck. The other 30% of the time you google random shit. All the while your story becomes something that you didn't realize it would be and you create something amazing.
It's why I do what I do. It's why I love writing.
Faithfully Yours,
Zulu Whiskey
Monday, March 7, 2011
Victory
So it may seem as though I was cut out for this writing thing after all. I made my decision a little while ago and shared it with you, Fearless Reader, that I was going to enter some writing contests this year.
Well I have done what I said I would and when the results from the January contest came in...I had won first place. I have since entered another and have another three upcoming in the next two months. Needless to say I will have my hands full for the next little while and it is the same reason that I haven't gotten around to posting on my blog in so long.
This victory couldn't have come at a better time, just when I was deciding I was really going to give the game my best regardless of the result I get the feedback that I'm writing at the highest calibre I have ever achieved in my life. And I get a win on the first try, that didn't hurt either.
And so Fearless Reader I will depart again and I have no doubt that I will be back here soon enough. After all, a writer has to write, but it makes it even better when he knows he has Fearless Reader's doing what they do best. Read.
Zulu Whiskey - Out
Well I have done what I said I would and when the results from the January contest came in...I had won first place. I have since entered another and have another three upcoming in the next two months. Needless to say I will have my hands full for the next little while and it is the same reason that I haven't gotten around to posting on my blog in so long.
This victory couldn't have come at a better time, just when I was deciding I was really going to give the game my best regardless of the result I get the feedback that I'm writing at the highest calibre I have ever achieved in my life. And I get a win on the first try, that didn't hurt either.
And so Fearless Reader I will depart again and I have no doubt that I will be back here soon enough. After all, a writer has to write, but it makes it even better when he knows he has Fearless Reader's doing what they do best. Read.
Zulu Whiskey - Out
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
January 2011 Writing Contest
Fearless Reader,
I entered and submitted a short story into a writing contest just this week. This is the first of the year and the first in my commitment to enter one each month for the rest of the year. This goal will be achieved as I have entered the same contest for the remainder of 2011 so I guess the challenge will be to enter some other contests as well.
This contest is held by Wynterblue Publishing and it is a 24 hour challenge, in which I am given certain words that must be included in the story and a subject to follow and I have 24 hours to complete a story of under 2500 words.
It took me about two hours, banging away at the keyboard to finish the story and I'm pretty happy with it. I have yet to read it myself however I had a blast writing it and the friends and family that have read it, if they are being honest, have given me some very positive feedback.
I will keep you posted FR as to whether or not my piece is selected for publication and if so where you can find it online or in hardcopy.
This Zombie Warrior is finally trying to live the dream!
I entered and submitted a short story into a writing contest just this week. This is the first of the year and the first in my commitment to enter one each month for the rest of the year. This goal will be achieved as I have entered the same contest for the remainder of 2011 so I guess the challenge will be to enter some other contests as well.
This contest is held by Wynterblue Publishing and it is a 24 hour challenge, in which I am given certain words that must be included in the story and a subject to follow and I have 24 hours to complete a story of under 2500 words.
It took me about two hours, banging away at the keyboard to finish the story and I'm pretty happy with it. I have yet to read it myself however I had a blast writing it and the friends and family that have read it, if they are being honest, have given me some very positive feedback.
I will keep you posted FR as to whether or not my piece is selected for publication and if so where you can find it online or in hardcopy.
This Zombie Warrior is finally trying to live the dream!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Seriously
Dear Teenage Boys,
Axe, Tag, or any other form or variation of bodyspray deodorant is not, I repeat NOT a substitute for showering.
You just give everyone a friggin' headache.
Zulu Whiskey Out
Axe, Tag, or any other form or variation of bodyspray deodorant is not, I repeat NOT a substitute for showering.
You just give everyone a friggin' headache.
Zulu Whiskey Out
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Poll Results: December 2010
Leading up to Christmas for the month of December I asked you, Fearless Reader, whether you preferred to give, received or whether you liked both and the results are the most unanimous they have ever been.
First of all, everyone answered that they liked to give (of course answering both means that you like to give as well). And 75% agreed that they liked to both give and receive.
In the spirit of giving and receiving I will tell a couple stories about the subjects in question. One is very recent and one is quite older.
Giving
Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my relationship with the undoubtably infamous Miss McGoo. We agreed last week to give our gifts this past Friday as it is our weekly date night and I think we were both anxious too. For a long time I struggled with what to get her and just before Christmas I decided I wanted to get her a necklace. I haven't given her jewelry before and truth be known never given jewelry to any girlfriend before.
I went to the jewelry store after work and the first necklace I was showed was the one that I knew I would get for her. The salesman showed me several other pieces but known were close to the quality and brilliance of the first.
It was that necklace that went home with me and was in my jacket pocket when I picked her up for our date on Friday. I gave her the card I had written for her and while she was reading it I slipped my hand into my jacket pocket as the jacket was sitting on the back of the chair I was sitting on. When she looked up from reading her card she immediatly threw her arms around me and I hugged her back. She leaned back in her chair and looked down and I had brought the small box above the table and I opened it up to show her the necklace I had chosen.
I have not exaggerated yet in my story and I do not intend to now and when she saw the small heart of diamonds on that fine white gold chain she cried. In that moment I felt so good about myself and about her as well. It was an amazing feeling to give someone such a special and meaningful gift. Her reaction and appreciation was worth far more than every penny spent on the necklace.
Receiving
In my twenty years I have received some pretty awesome gifts; my first Xbox, some great trips and not the least of which my "man-gagement" ring given to me by Miss McGoo (she insists of course it wasn't an attempt at man-gagement but I know the truth!).
Although nothing I have received has a more amusing story than the pneumatic plane I got for Christmas when I was about 8 or 9. At the time this kind of toy was all the craze and was receiving a lot of media attention. One of these planes ended up under the Christmas tree with my name on it and the excitement began to build. Of course being in Canada I had to wait for winter to end before flying this plane. The air pressure isn't the same in the winter and flying in the winter was not reccommended.
After months of waiting and a couple hours of watching informational VHS tapes later we were good to go. The toy of the decade would be able to fly for hundreds of metres(!) so we were told to go to a large open field to fly it. My family and I went to the large combined baseball and football field down the road from my grandparents house and we were ready to fly! Technique for throwing the plane into flight was to be like throwing a dart, not like a baseball and of course I remembered this when I sent the plane on it's maiden voyage. Now Fearless Reader the outcome is undoubtabley forseeable from your point of view but please humour me!
The plane flew straight as an arrow, a smile spread on this boy's face as it cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. The prop spun round and round and purred loudly. The spring sun glinted off the plastic fuselage and the hardened styrofoam wings bent slightly as it lifted higher into the air.
Without warning the small plane hit an updraft and skyrocketed at surprising speed. On it's own the plane pulled into an immelman straight for the ground and impacted with enough force to smash itself to pieces.
Not knowning what else to do, I laughed. I laughed and laughed and still chuckle when I think and talk about it today.
I agree with the results, I also believe it's great to both give and receive gifts, sometimes what you give and get isn't always something material. Sometimes it's a great memory or a heart-warming feeling, either way it usually makes for a pretty good story.
First of all, everyone answered that they liked to give (of course answering both means that you like to give as well). And 75% agreed that they liked to both give and receive.
In the spirit of giving and receiving I will tell a couple stories about the subjects in question. One is very recent and one is quite older.
Giving
Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my relationship with the undoubtably infamous Miss McGoo. We agreed last week to give our gifts this past Friday as it is our weekly date night and I think we were both anxious too. For a long time I struggled with what to get her and just before Christmas I decided I wanted to get her a necklace. I haven't given her jewelry before and truth be known never given jewelry to any girlfriend before.
I went to the jewelry store after work and the first necklace I was showed was the one that I knew I would get for her. The salesman showed me several other pieces but known were close to the quality and brilliance of the first.
It was that necklace that went home with me and was in my jacket pocket when I picked her up for our date on Friday. I gave her the card I had written for her and while she was reading it I slipped my hand into my jacket pocket as the jacket was sitting on the back of the chair I was sitting on. When she looked up from reading her card she immediatly threw her arms around me and I hugged her back. She leaned back in her chair and looked down and I had brought the small box above the table and I opened it up to show her the necklace I had chosen.
I have not exaggerated yet in my story and I do not intend to now and when she saw the small heart of diamonds on that fine white gold chain she cried. In that moment I felt so good about myself and about her as well. It was an amazing feeling to give someone such a special and meaningful gift. Her reaction and appreciation was worth far more than every penny spent on the necklace.
Receiving
In my twenty years I have received some pretty awesome gifts; my first Xbox, some great trips and not the least of which my "man-gagement" ring given to me by Miss McGoo (she insists of course it wasn't an attempt at man-gagement but I know the truth!).
Although nothing I have received has a more amusing story than the pneumatic plane I got for Christmas when I was about 8 or 9. At the time this kind of toy was all the craze and was receiving a lot of media attention. One of these planes ended up under the Christmas tree with my name on it and the excitement began to build. Of course being in Canada I had to wait for winter to end before flying this plane. The air pressure isn't the same in the winter and flying in the winter was not reccommended.
After months of waiting and a couple hours of watching informational VHS tapes later we were good to go. The toy of the decade would be able to fly for hundreds of metres(!) so we were told to go to a large open field to fly it. My family and I went to the large combined baseball and football field down the road from my grandparents house and we were ready to fly! Technique for throwing the plane into flight was to be like throwing a dart, not like a baseball and of course I remembered this when I sent the plane on it's maiden voyage. Now Fearless Reader the outcome is undoubtabley forseeable from your point of view but please humour me!
The plane flew straight as an arrow, a smile spread on this boy's face as it cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. The prop spun round and round and purred loudly. The spring sun glinted off the plastic fuselage and the hardened styrofoam wings bent slightly as it lifted higher into the air.
Without warning the small plane hit an updraft and skyrocketed at surprising speed. On it's own the plane pulled into an immelman straight for the ground and impacted with enough force to smash itself to pieces.
Not knowning what else to do, I laughed. I laughed and laughed and still chuckle when I think and talk about it today.
I agree with the results, I also believe it's great to both give and receive gifts, sometimes what you give and get isn't always something material. Sometimes it's a great memory or a heart-warming feeling, either way it usually makes for a pretty good story.
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