Tuesday, January 21, 2014


...but particularly Rusty Carl and Andrew Leon.

This past Sunday, Rusty Carl, who previously was known primarily for writing awesome books about dead god's having wrath, put on Twitter that he had done TWENTY PUSH-UPS.

I read that and thought "Huh.  Who would ever want to voluntarily do a push-up?" Then I went back to what I had been doing, which was struggling to hold an actual, physical book in one hand and a Snickers bar in the other.

But slowly, Rusty's claim worked its way into my brain, until after about 30 minutes (and the rest of the Snickers) I decided to see how many push-ups I could do.

The answer was:  eleven.

Which I mean is pretty good, right, for a person who had not, for a long time, done anything more strenuous than trying to find the exact right episode of Sesame Street while Mr F was pushing his arms and trying to pull him to the couch at the same time? (Which is pretty strenous.)

So I posted THAT on Twitter, only to then see Andrew Leon -- who ordinarily confines himself to pointing out how terrible my grammar is/writing awesome books about kids who control shadows -- post that HE had done 37.

As you would expect, all of this "other people being physically stronger than me and bragging about it all over the world" has begun to wear on me, so this morning I started on a new quest (to go along with my goal of listening to the song "I Love It" 10,000 times): I am going to do 2,014 pushups.

And then I decided (since a while back Rusty and I had gotten into a tussle that resulted in dueling challenges to a duel, which superhero author PT Dilloway [he writes about superheroes, it's not that he is one himself, unless he is...? I've never seen him and Batman in the same place, after all] was supposed to moderate, but PT has dropped out of sight [fighting crime, no doubt] and so it's up to me to moderate my own duel, which is NOT how it was done in the Middle Ages but WHATEVER, we don't hardly have any dragons anymore, either, so here is what I am doing:

I am challenging Rusty, and Andrew, and whoever else wants to take part, to RACE TO 2,014 pushups.  Whoever gets there first will be the UNDISPUTED CHAMPION OF THE WORLD IN PUSH-UPS, as determined by the fact that if you ARE taking part in the duel, then you might win, and if you are NOT, then you are conceding that you couldn't beat anyone who is.

So I have a pretty good head start on it, because this challenge actually started Sunday when I did my eleven push-ups, and then I did 11 more this mornin!g, which means I am up to 22!

I will report back periodically on how I am doing.  If you're going to take part, let me know and report, also, so that I can trash talk you about how terrible your push-ups are.  Your push-ups are so weak, they're push-sidewayses.

I need to work on that.


Also, don't forget that I'm still willing to publish your writing and pay you for it.  DETAILS HERE.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Some high-class musings...What I Think About When I Think About "Into The Out Of"...

Relax .It's water.
When I was about 17 I first read the book "Into The Out Of," an Alan Dean Foster novel typically filed under fantasy but probably more better classified as horror.  This year, when I was 45, I re-read it -- and I re-read it in book form, rather than ebook, but this was not out of some sort of misguided nostalgia for books or any claims that the 'tactile response' from books helps enhance learning; I am not a Luddite so afraid of the future that I cling to the past like Rose to Jack's icy hands.

No, I read this book...

to read the rest of this, click this link to go to Indie Writers Monthly.