Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to another edition of my Weekend Update. This is comign on the heels of my previous post, an announcement of acceptance. To warn you, this post has nothing to do with writing in the beginning, and only a little at the end.
Today we hit the floor. Yes, I have joined the rank of Corporate Cubicle Cretins, assisting the elderly with their insurance policies. It's official. I have my own desk, a window view of the river, and easy access to the printer/coffee machine. Can life get better?
No, but it CAN get worse. This morning my wife told me she thought her water had broken. Thankfully, it seemed to be a reaction to some food she an my daughter had the night before. I escaped only by my refusal to eat bagged veggies, I believe. Considering she is 8 months along, though, she agreed to call her doctor. The doc had her go to the hospital, and my father was gracious enough to postpone his weekend trip with my mother to Michigan to get her there. This led, as my team and I were strolling down main street for our 2-hour celebration luncheon, to him calling me.
He then erroneously informed me her water had, indeed, broken. What he meant is the octor said that MIGHT be the case. We still have two weeks to go at the least, according to the doc, and that relaxed me. After two hours of sitting at work thinking my wife was in labor.
From that to Sunday when...I found out I need glasses. I'd been getting horrible headaches after squinting all day, trying to read the computer screen at work. My eyes were tired an bloodshot every night. So, while getting my daughter her checkup for school, I got my eyes checked as well. I now wear glasses, and am not happy about it.
Now for the writing mention:
Tomorrow, after mwoing the lawn, I'll be starting on another story for the Dark Jesters anthology.
See, told you it wasn't much.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Showing posts with label wife. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wife. Show all posts
Friday, August 8, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Curiosity Killed the Hog
Updates, updates everywhere...
Alright, let's see...doing the final edit on "Parable of Judas" tonight and getting it sent off to garner a rejection from Age of Blood and Snow. After that, I have this idea of a little girl and homemade, highpowered "hog grinder" (not sure what would work for that...) that I want to get on paper, edit, and submit to Black Garden. I should be hearing back this week on my Unspeakable Horrors submission, though I'm leaning towards another rejection. Once all this is done, I want to start fleshing out an idea I had not too long ago, see if there's a story or something longer behind it.
After this rush is done, I'm going back to work on the Long One again for a bit. I can't juggle two projects at once, not with the kiddo and wife and job search. On that front, I have a face-to-face interview next week with Humana for a call center, Medicare customer service slot. Not the best job in the world, but it'd pay the bills for now and the benefits package up there is great.
Let's see, things still out....
"Colburn Men"
"Dead Air"
"No Tell Motel"
"Tribe of Harry"
"Demon Whiskey"
"Weekend Trip"
"It Wonder Me"
"Fragile Obsession"
"Linquistic Prescription"
Also, there's a truck stop story outlined and just waiting to see page that'll start after I write on these anthology submissions.
Now, to head over to KFC and pick up dinner, cause I don't feel like cooking tonight.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
-Oh yeah, almost forgot. Picked up a Maine Coon last night from a rescue operation. Named him Ambrose, as in Ambrose Bierce. I'll get a picture of him, Hemingway, and the rest of our zoo up as soon as I can figure out how to work my camera. Technology, though art not my friend.
Alright, let's see...doing the final edit on "Parable of Judas" tonight and getting it sent off to garner a rejection from Age of Blood and Snow. After that, I have this idea of a little girl and homemade, highpowered "hog grinder" (not sure what would work for that...) that I want to get on paper, edit, and submit to Black Garden. I should be hearing back this week on my Unspeakable Horrors submission, though I'm leaning towards another rejection. Once all this is done, I want to start fleshing out an idea I had not too long ago, see if there's a story or something longer behind it.
After this rush is done, I'm going back to work on the Long One again for a bit. I can't juggle two projects at once, not with the kiddo and wife and job search. On that front, I have a face-to-face interview next week with Humana for a call center, Medicare customer service slot. Not the best job in the world, but it'd pay the bills for now and the benefits package up there is great.
Let's see, things still out....
"Colburn Men"
"Dead Air"
"No Tell Motel"
"Tribe of Harry"
"Demon Whiskey"
"Weekend Trip"
"It Wonder Me"
"Fragile Obsession"
"Linquistic Prescription"
Also, there's a truck stop story outlined and just waiting to see page that'll start after I write on these anthology submissions.
Now, to head over to KFC and pick up dinner, cause I don't feel like cooking tonight.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
-Oh yeah, almost forgot. Picked up a Maine Coon last night from a rescue operation. Named him Ambrose, as in Ambrose Bierce. I'll get a picture of him, Hemingway, and the rest of our zoo up as soon as I can figure out how to work my camera. Technology, though art not my friend.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Heresy, Thy Name is Tabler
According to the almost-finished first draft of this story, Jesus was a good-natured guy with his eye on the prize and Judas really wasn't that horrible of a fellow. I've gotten up to the climactic scene, which I plan on finishing up tonight. Looks like it'll come in either a hair over or a hair under 4,000 words, depending on whether I decide to go with a crucifixion or not. I would finish the whole thing tonight, except no work was done on it last night.
Yesterday, after calling police departments all over the state of Ohio looking for a year old accident report (piecemeal work for my father doesn't pay amazingly well, but it never has a dull moment attached to it), I was sitting at the office watching an episode of "Law and Order" when my phone rang. It was my upstairs neighbors, good friends of ours, who had just gotten back from a family reunion in Eastern Tennessee (No, there were no zombie Dolly Partons there). I answered, thinking they were asking where we left their key as we fed the animals, to find out my wife was in the hospital.
Nothing's wrong. Apparently she's a lil anemic thanks to the multiple gestation pregnancy. For the guys like me, it means her blood pressure fluctuates because she's got more than one baby in her. She passed out while talking to our neighbors, and they rushed her to the hospital. The doctors decided to keep her overnight for observation, but everything came back alright and both she and the babies are fine. I responded by sleeping alone on the couch, staring at the Dawn of the Dead poster over the T.V., and rushing back up there this morning. She was released with orders to take extra iron supplements and be more careful around the house.
Today, while she was napping, I sat down to muscle through this story. I don't want to give a lot of plot off, just that the narrator is one of the original 12 disciples, and it shifts between first person present and first person past tense. It also rejects most of what I learned about the last days of Christ's life. I was a little disappointed, in my research, to learn that one of, if not the, main idea is a major principle of the Coptic and Gnostic belief systems, but hey. I can at least write an old idea well and see what it gets me.
Alright, time to fix dinner, eat it, and cuddle with my wife before finishing up this scene. Take'er easy, folks!
EDIT 5/13/08 - 22:56
Finished the first draft of my heresy tonight. Wife's going to read it over after she gets done talking to her brother, tomorrow I'll start the edit on it, should finish around dinner time. This is one that I'm actually gonna look for a proofreader on, so if there's anyone out there who wants to read this sucker over, I'd be happy to send it out. Will, bless him, just isn't that into religion and is definitely gonna be bored to tears within two paragraphs.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Yesterday, after calling police departments all over the state of Ohio looking for a year old accident report (piecemeal work for my father doesn't pay amazingly well, but it never has a dull moment attached to it), I was sitting at the office watching an episode of "Law and Order" when my phone rang. It was my upstairs neighbors, good friends of ours, who had just gotten back from a family reunion in Eastern Tennessee (No, there were no zombie Dolly Partons there). I answered, thinking they were asking where we left their key as we fed the animals, to find out my wife was in the hospital.
Nothing's wrong. Apparently she's a lil anemic thanks to the multiple gestation pregnancy. For the guys like me, it means her blood pressure fluctuates because she's got more than one baby in her. She passed out while talking to our neighbors, and they rushed her to the hospital. The doctors decided to keep her overnight for observation, but everything came back alright and both she and the babies are fine. I responded by sleeping alone on the couch, staring at the Dawn of the Dead poster over the T.V., and rushing back up there this morning. She was released with orders to take extra iron supplements and be more careful around the house.
Today, while she was napping, I sat down to muscle through this story. I don't want to give a lot of plot off, just that the narrator is one of the original 12 disciples, and it shifts between first person present and first person past tense. It also rejects most of what I learned about the last days of Christ's life. I was a little disappointed, in my research, to learn that one of, if not the, main idea is a major principle of the Coptic and Gnostic belief systems, but hey. I can at least write an old idea well and see what it gets me.
Alright, time to fix dinner, eat it, and cuddle with my wife before finishing up this scene. Take'er easy, folks!
EDIT 5/13/08 - 22:56
Finished the first draft of my heresy tonight. Wife's going to read it over after she gets done talking to her brother, tomorrow I'll start the edit on it, should finish around dinner time. This is one that I'm actually gonna look for a proofreader on, so if there's anyone out there who wants to read this sucker over, I'd be happy to send it out. Will, bless him, just isn't that into religion and is definitely gonna be bored to tears within two paragraphs.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Not Alone in the Dark (Sorry Nick!)
Well, I'm going to try my hand at flash fiction again, this time in a submission to the Northern Haunts anthology going out over at Shroud. God bless Duotrope, the scourge of editors where I am concerned. I wasn't going to touch it, as I have a hard enough time keeping things under a 5,000 word limit, but tongiht I think I fleshed out an idea.
Years ago my Dad told me a story about his first job, riding a bike to deliver papers, and how his pre-dawn route took him past an old graveyard that just flat out freaked him out. I finally found that old graveyard today when I was heading out to a friend's house for dinner, at least in my mind. It was one of those images that pops in your head and nags you for hours on end, refusing to let go. So, while my wife and I were enjoying the company of two dear, old friends, I was thinking about the place in my head and what could happen there to a boy on a bike.
I also think that after dinner, as Dick and I were enjoying the view from his back porch in the country, I came out with a good line. We were trading actual ghost stories, a hobby of ours, while the ladies were chatting in the living room. I was asked about my penchant for writing things that are a little off-kilter...in other words, Apocalypse stories, horror stories, dark literary stuff that involves these mind-fuck (pardon the term, I'm just a crude country boy) angles. It got me thinking as I sipped a Hornsby.
My wife, after reading a recent, non-spec. fic. piece, looked at me and said "If you ever write anything happy, I think I'll have a heart attack." Never mind that, in my opinion, it WAS a happy piece if looked at from the side and with a slight squint. It was the thought, how she said it, that got me thinking about why I write what I write. So, a few ciders down and a bottle of bourbon calling, I lit a cigarette and put it in the best way I knew how to Dick when we talked about my subject matter.
"Well," I said, "I don't mind being in darkness. It doesn't scare me. I'm not really happy with not seeing what's there around me, but it doesn't bother me too much. What bothers me, what really scares me, is sitting in the light that's surrounded by darkness. Then you have to wonder what's at the edge of the light, watching, just waiting for a lantern to burn out or the campfire to die down. That's what scares me, and I think that's why I write what I do."
Now, if I can only force myself to be a better writer and sell some of this stuff...or just to sit down and write.
If I don't post some sort of word count tomorrow, I expect anyone reading this to beat me. For now, though, I'm smoking one more cigarette and heading off to bed.
Keep the lights burning bright,
J.C. Tabler
Years ago my Dad told me a story about his first job, riding a bike to deliver papers, and how his pre-dawn route took him past an old graveyard that just flat out freaked him out. I finally found that old graveyard today when I was heading out to a friend's house for dinner, at least in my mind. It was one of those images that pops in your head and nags you for hours on end, refusing to let go. So, while my wife and I were enjoying the company of two dear, old friends, I was thinking about the place in my head and what could happen there to a boy on a bike.
I also think that after dinner, as Dick and I were enjoying the view from his back porch in the country, I came out with a good line. We were trading actual ghost stories, a hobby of ours, while the ladies were chatting in the living room. I was asked about my penchant for writing things that are a little off-kilter...in other words, Apocalypse stories, horror stories, dark literary stuff that involves these mind-fuck (pardon the term, I'm just a crude country boy) angles. It got me thinking as I sipped a Hornsby.
My wife, after reading a recent, non-spec. fic. piece, looked at me and said "If you ever write anything happy, I think I'll have a heart attack." Never mind that, in my opinion, it WAS a happy piece if looked at from the side and with a slight squint. It was the thought, how she said it, that got me thinking about why I write what I write. So, a few ciders down and a bottle of bourbon calling, I lit a cigarette and put it in the best way I knew how to Dick when we talked about my subject matter.
"Well," I said, "I don't mind being in darkness. It doesn't scare me. I'm not really happy with not seeing what's there around me, but it doesn't bother me too much. What bothers me, what really scares me, is sitting in the light that's surrounded by darkness. Then you have to wonder what's at the edge of the light, watching, just waiting for a lantern to burn out or the campfire to die down. That's what scares me, and I think that's why I write what I do."
Now, if I can only force myself to be a better writer and sell some of this stuff...or just to sit down and write.
If I don't post some sort of word count tomorrow, I expect anyone reading this to beat me. For now, though, I'm smoking one more cigarette and heading off to bed.
Keep the lights burning bright,
J.C. Tabler
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Productive Day
Went to the doctor yesterday to make sure my wife isn't going to fall apart. She's healthy, babies are healthy, however I stepped on the scale and was amazed at how much those little numbers kept going up. I'm going to act like an overly-dramatic southern belle instead of the stubble-strewn, bourbon drinking man that I am and refuse to say my exact weight. What it is suffice to say, though, is that I am closer to 300 lbs than 200 lbs, and am now in shock that I let myself go to that extent. Gym membership here I come, and I might even actually use it.
As for other things, I still haven't heard back about the Contract Load job. I have another phone interview (man I hate those things) today for a "Customer Service" slot that I don't especially think will have me jumping for joy, but it'd be a job. I sat down after getting home yesterday and started typing on a niggle of an idea on what that previously posted picture could be. I'm now roughly 5,000 words into the rough draft, and am still working towards a conclusion. Sure, it'll get trimmed in revision, but c'mon, 5,000 words in one day with only an hour's break to watch Jerry Springer in between? That ain't too bad.
Still waiting to hear from Voices on whether my triumph ends on the short list. Like I said, I'm happy just to be nominated.
Back to work,
J.C. Tabler
As for other things, I still haven't heard back about the Contract Load job. I have another phone interview (man I hate those things) today for a "Customer Service" slot that I don't especially think will have me jumping for joy, but it'd be a job. I sat down after getting home yesterday and started typing on a niggle of an idea on what that previously posted picture could be. I'm now roughly 5,000 words into the rough draft, and am still working towards a conclusion. Sure, it'll get trimmed in revision, but c'mon, 5,000 words in one day with only an hour's break to watch Jerry Springer in between? That ain't too bad.
Still waiting to hear from Voices on whether my triumph ends on the short list. Like I said, I'm happy just to be nominated.
Back to work,
J.C. Tabler
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