Today did not start out the way I would have liked. My youngest decided at 1am he was up. Wife had to work so it was up to Dad to take him downstairs and try to get him wound down.
Flash forward about 4 hours and I finally get him in his bed. I go back to mine to find my 5yr old has invaded. Dad hooks back into his cpap machine (yes I’ve been diagnosed with severe sleep apnea). About an hour later I have to get up and get kids ready for school. I send off the older two to school, wife to work, and I finally get another hour or so of sleep, albeit with Jackson sleeping on my arm.
Caffienating as I drive, we make it to our joint chiropractor appointment. I get adjusted and then it’s Jackson’s turn. It’s like he flipped a switch and became the most well behaved not quite 3 year old you’d ever meet.
We then managed to negotiate shopping at Walmart in record time, only missing one item, because they were out of it.
I would say, never argue with a child about what you McDonald’s has, because even if you’re right, you’re wrong. I told him they didn’t have dinosaur toys, he insisted they did. He ended up with Lion King’s Simba.
Lunch home and nap: in that order. Dad would have loved to get a nap too, but sadly I had things to do. He looked well rested when he got up later.
In the store, he’d tried to put two bags of mini powdered donuts in the cart. We compromised on one, in addition to the promised box of candy he got for being a good boy all day. For snack time before bed, he swore to me he didn’t pick out the candy that he did, Jolly Rancher Sour Gummies.
Instead, he chose to have two donuts “I need one for each hand”. And a third to give to Mommy “They are her favorite, I know”.
That’s when I was betrayed. He said he wanted more. Dad said no. Mom told Jackson to get the kitchen stool so he could reach them off the back of the counter where I had put them.
It’s clear the gauntlet had been thrown. The coup has begun. Dad is going to be overthrown as King of the House.
Dad hasn’t been King since at least Empress Emma was born. I’m just a puppet. Dancing upon the strings.
Moral of the Day: Maybe, just maybe, the kid needs a facial massage and chiropractor appointment to keep the sassy away.
I’ll clarify this post at the beginning before anyone gets confused. “Bishing” means “Fishing”. This summer, my youngest has discovered the ages old past time of fishing. He’s absolutely mad for it. He even sounds like a cranky old fisherman sometimes.
Where we spend our summers, he’s been using canned corn to fish from the dock, catching sunfish and bluegill, along with the occasional catfish or a tiny bass. when he reels in his line and the corn is gone, he’ll turn around and mutter, “Fish took my darn bait.” I wish he’d do it on camera, but if he sees the phone pointed at him he clams up and hides his face. At least, most of the time.
Sunday morning was our last morning at the lake for the season. And as the first rays of sun poked through the camper windows. He’s jumping up and down on me yelling, “It morning time. It Bishing time.”
So, now that our time at the lake is over, he still wants to go “bishing” down by the river or even back to the lake. On Monday we got a container of worms and went to the river on the edge of town while we waited for his sister to finish after school program. We didn’t catch anything, but the way he looks at the water and his line; it’s a boy in his happy place. Hard to believe he’s not even 3 yet.
This means dad has to learn something about fishing. Which I haven’t done seriously since I was a kid myself. And that with a cane pole catching brim down south. I’m hoping he doesn’t want to ice fish though. That’s pretty darn cold.
Though “Bishing” really isn’t my thing, I’d love to be supportive of his enthusiasm, which means it’s time to learn what I can. If anyone has any favorite blogs or podcasts about fishing I’d appreciate it if you dropped them in the comments. Even better if they specifically talk about fishing in Wisconsin. Until next time…
I managed to write two scenes for book 4 of my urban fantasy series, Family Heritage. A third scene is formulated but not fully written. I began a new short story for Meteor Falls. Oh yeah, and I turned 39. Last year of the 30s before I hit the big 40.
Our monarch butterfly season is in full swing. We have close to 500 eggs and caterpillars of various stages. And nearly a dozen in “raccoons” as Emma called them the first season. She couldn’t say cocoons, much less chrysalis, at that point. The term has kinda stuck around our house, even though we know the proper terms now and can use them.
Sunday is my niece/goddaughter’s birthday. I took Emma and Jackson to go birthday shopping for her. They did really well picking out things they thought Nora would like. I guess we’ll see when we go there for her party.
January was a good month for me on a lot of fronts, although I didn’t blog about them. I did put a bit more of my writing journey on Facebook on my author page though.
January Writing News:
30558 words written. Most of it in my just over 27k MG/YA fantasy novel. “Sibling Rivalry: A Children of the Realms Tale” will be getting pitched to agents and editors during the February 3rd #SFFPIT event in Twitter. You can check it out at this LINK. If anyone is on Twitter and would be willing to help Retweet me, you can find me on Twitter under andrewmferrell
My February goals include knocking out the rest of the two short stories I’m working on for my Meteor Fall project. Hopefully then that collection will start to come together. I’m working with some great friends of mine in the writing world. I think readers will enjoy the world we’re creating.
I’m also planning on getting a big chunk of my wip “Bible of Mars” done. This was an idea my father in law came up with when we used to carpool to the day job. Involved people having migrated from Mars to earth for some reason. I ended up finding a plot and outlining it last year. I don’t think I’ll finish it this month. It should be a fun SciFi romp though.
Family Heritage Book 3: Reunions & Rebellions is in the hands of some betas and proofreaders. I have a cover mock-up I’ll share later this month I think once I think I have a handle on its publication date.
On the home front things are going pretty good. My oldest started his job and it’s going alright except for constant changes in his sports schedule messing with his work schedule. But basketball season will be over soon and then he can put in a few more hours. We’re getting along pretty well. I’m proud of the choices he’s making lately with regards to school and his future.
Emma and Jackson are still giving Dad a run for his money. Here’s Emma and I playing on a 15-20 ft snow pile behind our house yesterday.
It was harder to climb than I thought it would be because the snow was very fluffy and didn’t pack down well. I kept sinking and sliding back down. It was fun though. Wife and Jackson watched from a window and laughed pretty hard at “Daddy fall down. “Daddy fall again”. As Jackson put it. He’d had enough by this time and had gone back inside.
I have a short story of n a collection called “The Depths of Love: an SFWG anthology” due out February 10th. I happen to know if you preorder the ebook and send a screenshot to the publisher, you are entered to win a paperback copy of any short story collection they’ve published.
Cloaked Press also has its 2021 edition of Spring Into SciFi coming later this month or first week of March. Currently accepting submissions for the first Summer of Speculation themed anthology as well. Catastrophe is the theme. All the details are on their website.
I’m hoping to get more updates here on the blog in the future. Maybe just a weekly check in with some more writing and family news as that’s my focus here. Thank you all for coming along on this crazy journey with me.
I wanted to write this post two weeks ago, but a combination of the holidays and no small amount of procrastination has delayed these thoughts. My oldest officially became a licensed driver the week before Christmas.
I’m immensely proud of the young man he’s becoming. Sure there are still some things he does that annoy me, but isn’t that all teenagers?
He was given the task, to get his license, that he had to get his grades up. This half virtual learning path has been a struggle. It’s certainly not what any of us would have chosen for his sophomore year, but he keeps rolling with the setbacks: a shortened football season, several complete virtual weeks, and now disruptions to his basketball season. He’s handling better than I probably would have at his age. I doubt I tell him I’m proud of him enough. But hopefully, it shows.
With his license has come some freedom to come and go as he pleases. And with his sister in 4K during a Wisconsin winter, it’s wonderful that he can take her to school with him and she’s safe and taken care of. Emma really enjoys riding with Teta and has asked him to pick her up after school when he doesn’t have practice.
To fund his newfound freedom, he’s taken the initiative to apply for jobs. I’m proud of him that he sought out and negotiated a job that will work around his sports schedule. He has orientation this weekend and gets to start right away in the afternoon.
I’ll admit I’ve been nervous about this whole situation, but he’s been an amazing driver with his mom and I during his learning period. I can’t wait to hear about his first day of work and all the life lessons he’s going to experience as he enters this phase of life.
Teta, Your dad is very proud of you. Keep striving for your goals and I know you’ll become a great man.
A dear friend of mine shared a tweet that got me thinking. I’m sharing the tweet as I’ve tracked down the original author and followed him and his friend he mentions. It’s, to me at least, a very powerful way to look at two of the arts.
For myself, as I have trouble drawing stick figures, and my musical talents were left behind in high school band, I thought, how does this apply to me?
The answer became clear quickly. Writing is how we decorate the mind. Writers take a complex idea, and distill it down into words that, when ingested, fill a room within your mind, even if only for a little while.
Some of these keep these rooms throughout our life and they form a part of who we are. Perhaps they help us deal with a difficult or painful situation. Maybe they form a basis for how we react to something in our lives, or how we perceive justice or what we consider our moral right.
Writers entertain us, inform us, and, if we let them, teach us something. These lessons may be about our world, or just their world. But either way, they can leave this room within us, decorated with their words. With the emotions and images they co hire within us. These rooms are just as powerful as a master’s painting, or a composer’s magnum opus.
So if you’re a writer like me, don’t give up on your creations. Someone out there is waiting for you to decorate a room in their mind, whether they know it now or not.
June 16th, 2020, I turn 38. In two years I’ll be 40 and on the downhill slide as people look at it. If you’d asked me 20 years ago where I’d be, I never would have thought: married, three kids (one of which a teenager), and working in a factory. I’d hoped to be writing, which I am, but it would be nice to be sitting on a nice big publishing deal or something.
I got to my day job this morning and was talking to this new kid from third shift. I say kid because, turns out he’s 19. I’m officially twice the age of a coworker. The next milestone would be when there are coworkers younger than my kids.
So I made a comment about the music I was playing on the stereo and he mentioned he writes songs, music and lyrics, the whole nine yards. I asked him if he’s done anything with it and he got shy and said no. I instantly saw a flashback to when I started writing and never let anyone read or see any of it. I didn’t publish my first book until I was 32.
I told him this, and I said to him. Go for it. Don’t wait. Don’t waste years wishing you had tried it. Even if you lay down the tracks and post it to iTunes yourself. I told him about my cousins son who did this and actually made some money doing it.
I hope he took my advice and he goes home, dusts off those sheets of paper and gives it a try. I’m sure I’ll see him around. So I’ll try to keep encouraging him.
It’s a small thing but it made me feel good to talk to him and maybe help him a little. Something put him in my path today. Whether you believe in Fate or Karma or any of that stuff. I do, and I feel good about the conversation. My spirit and my drive to pursue my dreams is bolstered. I hope his is too.
See ya around Gentle Readers. Hopefully I have some news about Family Heritage Book 3 soon.
Time flies when the world is in crisis and you have three kids to keep track of.
The Coronavirus Pandemic is still in full swing though states are starting to open up a bit. We shall see if this is too soon or not in the coming weeks and months. I’m not a fan of groups of people anyway so that part of the social distancing hasn’t bothered me much. It has been annoying that I couldn’t take the kids to parks or anything when the weather warmed up. Trapped at home has not been kind to my littles. And my oldest, well, he’s had an ok go of this home school thing when they shut schools down in March. Beyond that, we’ve eaten more takeout from local places to help them stay afloat and tried to find creative things to do at home. Which has translated into yard work mainly. We’ve planted some flowers and set up a little fairy garden area that Emma loves. We’ve also take a plot at our village’s community garden. We’ll see how it goes. Not much to show right now except a plot of dirt.
The second bit of unpleasantness to get out of the way is the situation that began in Minneapolis with the death of George Floyd at the hands of police. His murder has ignited protests all over the country and even foreign police are condemning the actions of the officers in Minneapolis. I am appalled and angry that this shit keeps happening in America.
This is a horrible tragedy that has sparked riots and looting as things continue to escalate in cities other than Minneapolis. Even as close to me as Green Bay saw violence at a protest over the weekend. There are reports of rocks being thrown at police.
I’m not going to rehash all the events. I simply want to state that I support the calls against racism, transphobia and all the other despicable-isms. I’m about all lives. Because this issue is about Blacks, I’m in. If it’s Native Americans protesting a shitty pipeline on their land, I’m in. If it’s Pride rallies, I support you too. I can’t do live protests, my anxiety around large groups of people wouldn’t let me contemplate it. So I try to be supportive in other ways. Donations, signing petitions, voting appropriately and encouraging others to as well. So for those out there fighting this fight that needs to happen, I see you. This cishet white guy is sick of the racist bullshit as well.
Now onto more pleasant events for those who’ve stuck it out this long. My oldest is driving. He was able to get his learners permit when the DMV reopened to limited services.
It’s going quite well. I feared this day, teen drivers being potentially what they can be, but he’s doing what he should and is attentive on the road. I’m proud of him. Now if the usual teenage surliness would go away, everything would be great. It’s to be expected though. He’s 15 and trying to figure out himself and his place in the world. I try telling myself I wasn’t much better. Hell, I moved out of my parents house a couple months after I turned 17. I hope this pandemic is cleared up in time for football season. I don’t know if either of us could handle him not getting to play football this year. He needs the activity. Playing basketball in the yard by himself isn’t cutting it for his energy level.
Those who have read about my daughter know that she’s passionate about a great many things. She has her YouTube channel and a Facebook page to document the many things she gets into. This past weekend we were able to begin again the adventure of raising monarch butterflies. We found our first eggs. She was beyond excited when we found the first one. We ended up with ten from our excursion into a marshy area. All ten hatched within a few days and we’ve added a dozen more as well as some that we found already hatched into tiny caterpillars. Now we wait and see if this next batch all hatched, as well as continue to hunt for more. Keeping these beautiful creatures from all becoming bird food is a noble cause right?
How to begin to describe my youngest child. Perhaps this image will help you. Picture a Tornado wearing a Hurricane Jacket, plunked down into a Volcano, while riding a Tsunami during an Earthquake. That should give you a pretty clear picture of the Incarnation of Chaos this little one has become. He chatters away at you, mostly making sense, and understands more than he pretends to. Close to bed time the other night, my wife asked him, “What do you want for snack?” He looks right at me and plain as day said, “Ice Cream Cone Daddy.” Then went back to snuggling his mother while I made him a little cone with orange sherbet. He tests my patience almost as strongly as his older brother. He really riles his sister up. He will pick something up, a toy or doll or whatever. If she decides she wants it. She goes up to him and as she’s asking him for it or offering something different in trade; she snatched the item and leaves. Then you hear, “EMMA!” at the top of his little lungs. Sometimes I think he takes her favorite doll on purpose just to make her angry.
He’s also quite entertaining when it comes to big brother, “Teta.” (Emma started calling Mason, Teta, pronounced TeeTah, and it’s kinda stuck.) So Jackson has a poop diaper, we can all smell it. Mom asks, “Jackson, did you poop your pants?” “No.” He replies with this smirk on his face. Mom asks, “Who put the poop in your pants then?” “Teta.” He yells with a giggle and a look at his older brother. Teta was a good sport. He just said, “Jackson you weren’t supposed to tell anyone.” Which set everyone to laughing, even Emma.
All three of my kids challenge me to be a better person. To set a better example than what they may see around them in these times of crisis. I just hope I’m doing a good enough job.
My writing has been up and down the last few months. I’m still hitting my word count goals but I’m no where near ready to publish anything because I keep bouncing from project to project, unable to focus on much except knocking out Tales Of Ezrahn short stories. I think I almost have enough for a collection so maybe if I can knock that out I’ll be able to get back to Mike’s journey. Book three needs some rewrites then off to my editor. I hope he’s ready to deal with Colleen coming back into his life and a betrayal from The Council.
Until next time, my Gentle Readers. Keep on keeping on.
Hello all. February has been a crazy month so far and it’s not over yet.
Emma (my 3yr old) has a YouTube channel now for all the adventures she gets up to. we also started a Facebook page and Instagram account. She’s really enjoying all her activities. Her mom and I are loving sharing our unique girl with the world. You can find her on YouTube at http://bit.ly/EmmasWorld
She’s already surpassed 100 likes on her Facebook page which is amazing. One of the best stories out of this so far has been tweeting with Ted Allen from Food Network’s Chopped. When she was just a few months old, Emma would stop and stare at the screen any time Ted talked. Now that she’s cooking on YouTube, I tweeted him telling him. He responded the next day, not once, but twice.
My oldest is rocking the basketball court and getting lots of playing time on Varsity as a freshman. Here he is taking the tip-off on the Junior Varsity game tonight. He then went down and scored the first two points of the game between either team.
Lastly for this update has to do with short stories. I’ve been working on a few the last few months and one of my favorite lines is from one dealing with the God of War )or lack there of) in my fantasy realm, Ezrahn.
Kreios was a General before he killed a demigod in self defense and became a Master of War. Now, as he learns why there is no centralized overseer of conflict, he discovers that it is his destiny to become the new God of War. With the help of the magical Emerson’s and armor that make up the powers of War, he sees that having the many demigod Masters, keeps the world in conflict far more than if there was the single God. After he strips the Armament and status of one of his fellow Masters of War, he says, “I am War, so that there can be Peace.” He then sends the now mortal Master Into the battle he was formally orchestrating. I can’t wait to share these stories once they are all done and bundled together. They’ve been a lot of fun to write.
Take care, keep writing, and I’ll be back soon my Gentle Readers.
How does this happen? We are already a month into the new year. I feel like I just woke up from the sensory/family overload of the holidays. Oh wait, that’s cause I spent this last weekend at an indoor water park, sharing a villa with my wife’s entire family (Parents, brothers and sister, plus their spouses and kids). All told we had 19 people in this spacious 5 bedroom, three story house. It worked, on a lot of levels, but it was also… well, crowded isn’t the right word. I’m going to miss everyone and wouldn’t trade the experience for the world, but I am glad to be home.
I finished a beta read of a thriller novel this past week and managed to get my word count in on my own projects. This week I need to focus on getting Spring Into SciFi 2020 ready for betas. This means I have to cut two more submissions to hit the magic number of 13. I’ve whittled it down to 15, three of which are already confirmed accepted for publication. This is the worst part of my job doing this, because I don’t like sending rejection letters. Sometimes you get an easy one, the person sent in something way outside the submissions guidelines (way too short, way too long, or the one guy who sent me erotica when I specifically point it out as not what is wanted for these collections). Most of the time, however, there are great stories and I just don’t have the room/funding to publish them all. So 13 is our magic number and we’re cutting down to that this week. Updates will come via the company’s website (http://www.cloakedpress.com) , and social media platforms.
I’ve been looking into ways to improve my editing skills, not only for myself but to utilize this within the business and for friends/critiquing. I think I’m going to look into some EFA courses, and possibly this online coursework through San Diego Extension. Will just have to figure out the funding for either/both of those avenues. I could probably file for a student loan for the San Diego stuff, but I don’t know how the wife will take that. We’re trying to cut debt, not create more.
Anyway… I’ll leave you with a snippet from one of my short stories I’ve written recently. “The Blacksmith” originally was supposed to be about a group called the Highwaymen, that protect merchant caravans, or retrieve stolen goods, for a price, within the Realm of Ezrahn. As I wrote it, it became more about a young man who wanted to be an adventurer, but found all the adventure he could handle right in his own hometown.
“The Highwaymen? Are you out of your mind, boy?” the older man said. “Take it from Old Sawyer, you don’t want to get mixed up with they’re mercenaries. That’s no life for a young man. Selling your soul for a bit of coin. No. You’d be best to go marry that blacksmith’s daughter who fancies you. Learn her father’s trade and make babies. That’s my advice.” Old Sawyer drank deeply from his tankard. “Fetch me another round, if you please.” He tossed the young man a gold coin.
Gareth stared at the coin a moment. It wasn’t often gold showed up in his little town. Silver, sure, especially when the merchants passed through. The shiny metal mesmerized him.
“Boy,” came Old Sawyer’s voice, breaking the coin’s spell. “Get me a bowl of that stew I smell as well. A half loaf of good warm bread should go nicely. Do that, and you can keep the change.”