It's Time

Okay, so about a month ago I lost my grandmother, the last living one. Two weeks after her funeral, I lost my job. They decided to go in a different direction. I feel like it is four and a half years ago, when I started focusing on my writing hard core in the first place. Time for some life changes.

I am once again focusing on my writing. Maybe this was a blessing. The job ate so much time I haven't published anything in forever. I barely write anymore. Hardly have time to read. I can't do this alone though.

So, here I am, asking for your support. Let's change the world together.

Start off by supporting me on Patreon. If I'm a bit too dark for you (what are you doing here?) then spread the word to your friends and family who have tastes for darkness and/or satire for me. Better yet, do both.

Here's my main Patreon page. It's a per post pledge, launching in March, and will have lots of stories. It is up now, just no new posts until March. You need a direct link to reach it.
https://www.patreon.com/patrickelliottwrites

This is a monthly Patreon page. It will have limited, exclusive content. It exists to be searchable, because if you write dark things you have to mark yourself adult, and then people can't find you in the general search. So, on the one above, put the kids to bed first. This one if for the tamer audiences.
https://www.patreon.com/patrickelliott

While you're at it. Go by a book. I have five published. Do you have them all? Why not?
http://hyperurl.co/hcq5cq

If you have a Kindle, a Nook, or a Google device, my books are on those too. Just search for my name, or check out the links over on the right side of the page, except for Google Books. For that one you'll need to actually do the legwork.

Now, go support me, you won't regret it.

#amwriting #writer #author #writing #indies #aboutme #writinglife #shamelessselfpromotion

A Different Social Media

For a while now I have been completely fed up with Facebook. I don't post here enough. I don't write enough. I don't do anything enough. Yet, when I'm not working, feeling sick, or sleeping, I stare at this electronic monster that eats my life, weakens my mind, and swallows my soul. I hate it, but I don't hate Social Media. I know there is a beauty behind it. I used to think Twitter was the way, until they started cracking down on the ideas of speech. I mean, when the platform founded on the ideas of free speech says they have grown past it (yes I'm over simplifying because I don't want to look up the quote) I lose faith in the platform. It still has its place and uses, but man, what a let down.

I started looking around at the alternatives, some of the new things coming out looked great. Some of them looked really great for artists! Then strangeness occurred. I was going to go into some details here, but I won't. Let's leave it at this. What I found is a few different places that aren't right. Places that don't live up to the hype, or places where those banned from Twitter congregate. In one case, I hope they evolve. In the other, I'm amazed that we now have two echo chambers fueling opposite sides. It is terrifying and counterproductive.

I didn't start this to bash what is out there though. Except maybe Facebook, because man am I miserable there. Aren't you? Never seeing the posts you want to see? Having ads for things you hate, don't want and don't need shoved down your throat, but not knowing what the people on your friends list are up to? I'm not saying I'm leaving it, not yet, but I'm spending less time there.

There has to be a better way.

And there is.

Come join me on Minds. I'm not sure if this link will automatically follow me. If not, follow PatrickElliottWrites and boom. There are a lot of great things about this place. Most of them you can discover for yourself. Your posts reach all of your followers. You earn points that you can use to boosts your posts to others. You can follow things you like. You can monetize your channel, so if you're an artist you can make some of your posts pay to view, if you want. I haven't done that yet, but I will probably do it in the future, maybe I'll go with Patreon instead, maybe both. Oh, and if you're not a dinosaur like me. They are launching a cryptocurrency in the first quarter of next year. So, lots of good stuff. The best part? I'm there, and I'm a badass. So, join me.

https://www.minds.com/register?referrer=PatrickElliottWrites

#minds #artists #author #socialcommentary #socialmedia #revolution

My Dinner with The Son

I was just having dinner with Jesus. Yeah, since it's not football season he has some spare time to hang out with writers. It's a thing he does, hanging out with the little people, chilling with indies. I guess we're the modern day pariahs.

Anyway... you know when you're out with your friend and you start telling jokes? We get to that point. And Jesus is a funny guy. We're laughing, and he tells a real knee slapper. He says to me, "Patrick," He says, because Patrick is what he calls me. I mean I could insist on formality, but him being who he is I'm okay with informality. Anyway. "Patrick," He says, "Have you noticed how the people telling Christians to pay attention to Leviticus when it comes to immigrants are the same ones who were telling Christians to ignore Leviticus when it came to homosexuals a couple of months ago? Have you also noticed that nobody seems to notice that I undid all the laws in Leviticus and said the new law is don't be a dick?"

We laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Eventually a couple of old ladies shushed us and called him a long hair. He turned their coffee into whiskey and they were much more pleasant after that. I'm going to miss him when the damn quarterbacks start taking up all of his time again.

Until then, for more more insights from the mind of the Messiah, look here. http://hyperurl.co/duudrb

#satire #blasphemoushumor #writing #novel #shamlessselfpromotion #buymybooks

Check This Out

So, not much to say. I got myself interviewed by a magazine all about indie authors. Go and check it out. I even teach you how to cook Irish peasant children.

Maybe this will get me off my ass again.

http://online.fliphtml5.com/ohxp/efhm/

#aboutme #author #Awethors #commentary #indies #interviews #shamelessselfpromotion #writer

When I was Old

I don't normally try to enjoy the sun, something about the White Irish gene. That's ginger to you folks that are even more bigoted than  people who still say White Irish. Sunburn, heat-rashes, sun and heat stroke aside... strange shit always happens in the sun. I can't be the only one who's noticed that. Yesterday was no exception. Except to my rule about enjoying the sun.

So I was stepping outside and the first thing I see is me approaching. This was no normal me though. This was a me that was the same age as Kerry Charlton. As if I was going to live that long. Truth is, if my dad didn't turn out to be right, if the world didn't end... well eventually the years of smoking would catch up with me, or the days spent in the sun. No matter what, cancer was just a knock away.

So, this older than I'll ever be version of me storms up to me. I can't figure out why he looks so pissed off. I mean he looks like he holds the kind of anger I felt when I was in high school. Thankfully, I'm a vocal, passionate ass. No matter what age, no matter if I'm me or him. I don't have to wait long before he gives me what for.

"How dare you? Do you know what you're wasting?"

I open my mouth to defend myself, but then I interrupt me, of course.

"Do you know when an author does their best writing? Of course you do, every writer does."

I am about to ask him to tell me but then he does.

"It's before he becomes famous. Before he has to worry about appeasing fans and keeping an audience. When you do nothing but experiment, when your art is pure. Before you get stereotyped and pigeonholed into the crap some publisher wants."

I sigh, about to defend myself, but I won't shut up.

"We both know you're not famous yet, and this is the best time. How are you wasting it? You're chasing success instead of the art. Even the shit you do on that website is ego stroking. Why aren't you trying to break things? That's what an artist does. What the hell is wrong with you? You don't want to end up like me; rich, alone, unfulfilled, sold out. Start writing the revolution now, boy."

I open my mouth to tell him that he needs to learn to expand his prose. The idea is there but years of flash fiction limit him. He seems to know what I am about to say. He seems to hate that it makes his point. He l shuts my mouth by slapping me hard. My ear is still ringing when I realize he has gone back to his own reality.

#shortstory #Awethors #author #writer #aboutme #writing #anger

Online Radio Interview

1/1/2016, my first radio interview on the Speculative Fiction Cantina. I'll be talking about Greycoat Blueback, and other things. Mostly that book though, since it is the only one I have in the right genre. Check it out at 3PM Pacific time. I'm expecting you to translate that in to your timezone, because you're smart and I'm lazy. Come support the awesomeness that is me. If you tune in early the channel will be silent until the show starts. http://www.blogtalkradio.com/writestream/2016/01/01/the-speculative-fiction-cantina-with-gordon-bonnet-and-patrick-elliott

Be there or be slain in an upcoming novel.

This is now archived for any who missed it. I met two amazing authors, the host, Evan, is phenomenal. Gordon Bonnet made me want to read everything he has written as well. The link is the same for the archived version, for you podcast addicts out there.

#shamelesselfpromotion

Why I Published on Kobo

So, I recently put out my two newest books on Kobo. This is in part an experiment with other sales channels but I added Kobo in. I did this in spite of the fact that I don't really expect to see any sales on this platform. So why did I do it?

Because Kobo is the reader most independent stores use. I like indies in general, and even more when it comes to the stores. I want them to be around for a long time. I like the classic feel along with the innovation it takes just for these guys to stay afloat. So I will do what I can to support them. If you have a Kobo and want to read the two books of shorts I would say, please do it. There is a handy link here where you can find them, they are the first two that show up. It's a search though so it might change at some point.Basically, prove me wrong. Show me that you love the independent book stores as much as I do and get them and me some money. I will happily eat these words if you do.

https://store.kobobooks.com/search?Query=patrick+elliott

So that's it. I put it up there because I love these guys and want to see them thrive. I don't expect to see much from it. Sometimes you just have to take that stance that supports the things you are passionate about though. So I did.

Not that I dislike Barnes & Noble, they just don't need my help. They'll be fine no matter what I do. Honestly, the indies don't need my help either, I'm not that arrogant... yet, but they deserve it. If you're a huge Barnes & Noble fan you can find my books there too. However, due to a technical glitch I can't provide you a link just yet. You can search for Old Odd Ends and get it in paperback there. You can search for Half Flashed and Too Dark for Television and find them on the Nook, and eventually in paperback as well. If you search for my name you will only find Half Flashed and Too Dark for Television currently only shows the names of the artists for the cover. Hopefully that will be fixed soon. Of course there is Amazon but those links are up on the right. They are also up on Googleplay, you can just search for the titles on your phone or tablet, Half Flashed and Too Dark for Television only on Google currently.

Basically, you have options, and I like that. I'm all about your freedom and your choices. If you're completely platform agnostic though? Consider getting books on the Kobo, both mine and those of other authors when available. These guys are doing it right. I always recommend going with the physical copy over everything else. There will always be something special about that experience. If you're using a reader though? You know the one I'm championing for here.

If you really want to support the independents, both the stores and the authors, here's another idea. Go into your local book store. Tell them you want a book by a certain author (let's say Old Odd Ends, Half Flashed, or Too Dark for Television by Patrick Elliott) or all of the works by said author at once. (Okay, you can choose a different author, but for the purposes of this example let's stick with me.) They can order them for you. It's going to take a couple of days but they can do it. They will do it. You may have to tell them it's done on CreateSpace because there are reasons they don't stock but only special order these books unless they know they are going to sell. They can and will provide though. Then everyone gets money and everyone wins. Especially you, because you have some bright, shiny, new books to put on your shelf. You remember that right? It's the thing that is currently housing all of your kids' video games.

Long story short? Support the little guys because they are awesome and need to feed their families. Buy books on the Kobo or in your local mom and pop book store. Buy mine, buy other peoples, buy all of them. Support these guys because they deserve it and I did. I'm awesome, you know you want to be like me.


#commentary #aboutme #author #indies #kobo #nook #novel #shortstory #shamelessselfpromotion #writer #writing

Your Help Appreciated

Hey,

Do you just need, I mean need more flash fiction? Follow this link and like my story. I mean, how often do I ask you for something? Other than to buy my book, which many of you haven't done. So do that first, then go vote for me. You get to read a bunch of other awesome shorts at the same time. I suppose you could vote for one of them, but I'll be watching you.

http://tipsylit.com/2015/07/28/prompted-who-stole-the-pen/





#shamelessselfpromotion #contest #shortstory #aboutme #amwriting #author #writer

Now The Letter

So no editing on this one either. I'm becoming a masochist with writing these damn things. I hate posting real shit when it's not an insane socio-political rant. But I actually did the prompt. Have fun with it, I guess.

Dear Granddad,

What I remember most is the fishing. At your funeral I remember the phrase, we don’t miss the years we miss the minutes. I remember thinking how catchy that bullshit was but I still miss you every day. I still hated the fishing though. Up before the sun because that was when the worms woke up. You told me that, remember? Then we went down to a river and stood in cold water. I never caught a damn thing. All I wanted to do was talk to you because I loved you but I had to stand there and be quiet to not scare off the fish. Later I decided you wanted to spend time with me when I was quiet since that was rare. Later still I realized you were teaching me patience and the value of quiet time with your loved ones. You taught me a lot and I didn’t even realize it.

I don’t want to tell you my life, you know it. You know I am okay because you made sure I would be. As one of the two oldest grandkids I was more like your child than grandchild. For a long time I envied that but now I know the rest of them envy the strong connection I had with you.

I want to say two things.

Thank you for being there. When I tried that stupid door to door sales job and you let me come and do the pitch for you even though I wasn’t really talking to you then. That you didn’t think you needed it but you wanted to buy it to help me out meant the world to me. That you always knew I was busy and asked about me even when that wasn’t why I didn’t come by… You were a better man than I can hope to be. Your faith in me kept, hell keeps me going. Thank you for everything.

The second is I’m sorry. The years I stayed away because in the middle of my parent’s divorce grandma said something nasty about my father. She was defending her daughter but I didn’t see that. I know you didn’t like my dad but I also know you understand I love him. That was part of who you were. I’m sorry I let my petty anger rob me of years with both of you. The year before you died when you hurt yourself you talked to me more deeply and openly than you ever had. Even when you didn’t know who I was you were there for me. I’m sorry I took so much of that away from us.

Mostly I’m sorry about the fishing. I had this plan to get two licenses and borrow some gear. I planned to do it the next summer. I wanted that time with you and to give you the gift of memory. Then you died and I’m sorry I didn’t do it the year before.

I love you always.

#author #writer #shortstory #love #nonfiction #aboutme

Two Great Men

So the prompt this week is to write a letter to someone who was in my life and is now gone. Honestly, I'm not a big fan of letters to dead people. I'm going to do it and I'll post that soon.

It got me thinking though. I have had this idea for a long time about a nonfiction book called - Lessons on Being a Man: Shit I Learned from My Dad. It also got me thinking about my great grandfather. So I sat down and I wrote one of the stories/lessons/chapters. It is way too long for the prompt but I am still proud of it.

I'm posting it here and I will tell you it is raw and unedited. There may be random bits of conversations with people on the internet in it. I don't apologize for that. This opened some old wounds and I can't read through it again right now. I will edit later. This is also my first venture into nonfiction that isn't an angry political rant. So, I hope you enjoy.

Most of the lessons I learned about how to be a man in a culture and generation where most males are little boys in grown men’s bodies came from father. I was lucky though, in that I did not lack for strong male role models. I may talk about the others later, my uncle Victor, my maternal grandfather Dale, my paternal grandmother’s husband Ernie. They all had an impact on who I became. If there is one man who can be given almost as much credit as my father it is my great grandfather Victor. Yes, two Victors, one named for the other. This is a story of a lesson I learned from my father because of grampa Victor. We still love you and miss you, your legacy lives on through those of us you touched.

A little background on grampa Victor, a little more on my father, and how the two related. My great grandfather was raised in those times when you did for yourself and yours. He was a deeply religious man, brutally intelligent, and softly stubborn. He had a way of relating to people, of imparting wisdom to them so they were steered in the direction of grandad’s thoughts. They knew it was happening but he never took their choice away, he just taught them lessons and they knew in their heart they had been touched by a shaman. Everybody loved him because that was just who he was. This I perhaps best illustrated by what the priest, a man much younger than him who was also his friend, said about him at his funeral. I will never forget these words.

“We are all sad that Victor is gone, but through our faith in eternal life we know he is not really gone. We know he is in heaven, sitting next to God and looking down at all of us, all of humanity. He sees it all then looks at God and says, ‘So this is what I think you did wrong.’”

The idea that a priest could envision my great grandfather gently correcting God without being cast down and smote was a powerful one that never left me. I did not completely understand why it was so powerful then, I just understood that it made me smile in the middle of my grief, but I get it now. That is in many ways the man he was.

When grampa Victor met my great grandmother Mary he was on his way to seminary and she had a boyfriend. No, I’m not kidding. He was ready to graduate and head straight off to priest school, and he would have been an amazing holy man. That was his dedication to the church. Then he saw this young woman and fell in love. Anyone who says love at first sight doesn’t happen never met them, because they lasted, her longer than him which surprised us all. So he saw this woman that God had put in his path and abandoned his dreams of being a priest to court her because he knew that was what he was supposed to do. I will note that when his oldest daughter met her future husband she was on a date with his friend and went out with my grampa Dale because she liked how he smelled. I guess that whole thing may be a tradition. Anyway, grampa Victor courted this woman, she gave up her boyfriend and went on to happily ever after. He never regretted it but his faith stayed strong. The main reason I went through my Confirmation (a Catholic sacrament in your teens or twenties where you reaffirm your baptism, accept and are accepted by the church and then never return to mass except on holidays or if you have young children) was because I knew his deep love of the church and that he would want me to do so.

So they had children. One of them ended up with MS in the days before it was manageable. She ended up bed ridden, unable to communicate, her husband and children in another state while she was being cared for by her parents who were by then on social security. She is the main reason we thing gramma Mary survived him for so long, because she had a daughter to care for. That was also who they were. Oh I have so many stories about my great grandmother in her later life, including when she got dementia and used to try to call Victor to come pick her up because she wanted to go home. This isn’t about that though. Mostly I just wanted to say they had kids.

Grampa Victor never gave up his ideas of service and teaching. So he wasn’t a priest but he could still be a scoutmaster in the Boy Scouts. So he did that, even after his son was out of it and I believe before he was in it. So one of the things the scouts do is camp. Most of the time, outside of summer camp and winter camp this is done on public camping grounds.

Now my great grandparents happened to own a piece of property out of the city that had a cabin on it with cold running water and no electricity. It had a couple of wood stoves and a propane model as well. However the cabin was not used for those excursions but the property was. He took his troop up there and they camped. It is worth noting this land was pretty big so they could go out into the woods where nobody could even see the cabin.

On these trips they cooked together but they had a tradition. Grampa Victor and the other troop leaders would pull over at a five and dime on the way up. He would line them up outside and tell them, ‘We’re going inside. Each of gets to buy two candy bars that you can have whenever you want this weekend.’ Then he took them inside and they bought their candy. Now I’m not sure if everyone had money from their parents and this was arranged in advance, or if he gave them all money, or if he just made up the difference for those who did not have enough. What I know is this was the tradition and each boy came out with two bars. They belonged to him and he could have them whenever he wanted during the weekend. I know they also did the traditional stuff like roasting marshmallows, smores, and tinfoil baked cinnamon apples. So it wasn’t the only sugar during the weekend but it was some of the stuff they could have on their own and under their control.

So one day there is this new boy in the troop. His family has a lot of money and he is, to say it politely, a bit spoiled. The troop makes their stop, gets their instructions and go to town. This boy comes out with not two candy bars but a bag full of them. Grampa informs him that’s more than two and the boy is unapologetic in the extreme. So grampa takes his bag, dumps it out, I am assuming on the hood of his vehicle but it might have been a backpack. He says something about how much candy is there. This is greeted with more agreement from the boy. Grampa Victor says, “Pick your three candy bars.” The new kid complies, apparently thinking he’s getting three and even having to give up so much he still has a better deal than the other boys, and well it’s just money after all. So he greedily chooses three and is smiling at getting away with something. Then grampa pulls the other boys over and puts them in a line. He tells them to pick a candy bar and thank the new boy. He does this with the entire troop until each boy has three and they go about their weekend. Which is a story that told me he was a great and amazing man committed to fairness and order and the spirit of the rules but not the letter, he wasn’t a man to waste things since he lived through the Great Depression after all. Thinking on it though I realize that while he was completely American my grampa Victor was also a bit of a communist and thus for his time a rabble-rouser. He’s still one of my idols. I stuck through boy scouts, even when I wanted to quit and I made Eagle for him. When I received it my speech mostly consisted of thanking him and there was not a dry eye in the house, most especially mine. I still missed him than and still miss him now.

So, anyway. When my mom and dad got married everyone in her family hated him. There were three exceptions in the blood relations. My uncle Victor who was friends with my father either from before they started dating or during that time, I am still not sure which, grampa Victor and gramma Mary. When the rest of the family got all up in arms and said this marriage couldn’t happen grampa Victor, the undeniable patriarch of the clan, stared them down and told them all to shut up. I’m not sure if he used those words but my understanding is he was much harsher than his normal persona. He told them all that my mother loved my father and it was none of their business and welcomed my father into the family. Through their marriage the others, except for my mother’s parents and a couple of spoiled rotten apples, grew to accept my father. Those three exceptions were special though, they were closer to him than anyone. In a lot of ways they were closer to him than his own family.

My father’s dad committed suicide when dad was still youngish. That’s the reason that even though he was a marine he did not go to Vietnam and did not die on Hamburger Hill. Grandad Elliott was also an alcoholic and an abusive father. Dad loved him but there were scars. He never accepted the man who married his mother as a father figure so I guess he craved one. Grampa Victor became that. He was a friend and mentor to my father. I saw it, and it was a special relationship. My dad loved that man with all his heart and it was beautiful.

I was a freshman in high school when grampa Victor died. It took no less than four massive heart attacks to kill him. He survived throat cancer and some other really bad shit before then, but his heart gave out. Now understand when I say massive that is how the doctors explained it to us. Heart attacks so large that they normally burst or collapsed the heart in the chest. That’s what I was told. Some of that is probably shock value, we doctors are awesome but we couldn’t save him and your grandfather was an amazing strong man. Not important. Sometimes even in reality the story and the image are more important than the truth.

So he had three of them at home. The ambulance was called and he was rushed to the hospital. He survived those three and was in the bed unconscious. No shitting, the man was clinging to life. Some of my family was there. After she found someone to sit with her daughter, you remember the one with MS who couldn’t move or talk? She got a ride to the hospital, or maybe she drove but I think she had stopped driving by then.

So gramma Mary, a powerhouse of a woman who before she started to shrink with age still never topped out above five feet, or maybe five foot two, marched into that hospital like the Germans invading Russia. She wasn’t taking prisoners, she wasn’t to be denied, and her march was just as doomed. I can only imagine how scared she was, how angry she must have been. I’m sure she was upset with her husband for scaring her and God for allowing it but she had business to do and love in her heart to levels that I wish more people had. Maybe she wasn’t angry with either of them but I know I would have been.

So she strides into the room, and I have confirmation on this because multiple family members were there. She stands up straight and looks at her unconscious husband and puts on her sternest voice. She speaks to him in a way nobody really dared, ever, and especially not then. This is what she says to the love her life, the man she would have certainly followed into the ground within six months if she didn’t still have work to do, her fucking soul mate. She says,

“Victor! Enough playing around, it’s time to wake up and go home.”

No shit? Go gramma you pint sized pitbull of a woman. We love and miss you too. Like I said, nobody talked to grampa Victor like that. She had special privileges though. So she says this and he opens his eyes. He smiles at her. He tells her he loves her, still not sure I believe he spoke but again, sometimes the story of our love is more important than the truth. He then proceeds to close his eyes, have another massive heart attack, and dies.

He held on just long enough to say goodbye to his wife. That’s the man he was. He loved his God, he loved his community, he loved service, he loved fairness, and he loved his family. Above it all he loved his wife, the woman he gave up the idea of being a priest for. Of them all she was, in spite of being the kindest most sincere and loving woman I have met in my life, she was kind of the scariest. So I guess I might have held on to say goodbye too. If he hadn’t she’d probably be kicking his ass and denying him sex in heaven to this day.

So there are a lot of lessons in being a man in those words, but that isn’t what this is about. I’ll let you dig those ones out yourself. I’ve left you some signposts. This is about my dad and how he taught me to be a man in many ways without even trying. I have mentioned he loved my great grandfather but that, even in finding your own heroes when you need them most, is not the point of this lesson.

When grampa Victor died my mother and sister were on a camping trip with the Girl Scouts. Yes, we all took our turns in them. It was cheap and important to my family. So it was just me and my dad and my brother, who was still in a carseat as I remember but I could be wrong, at home. We get the call, Victor’s in the hospital, multiple coronary events. Okay, they used the term I used earlier but I’m repeating a lot of words in this story already. My dad tries to call the campground where my mom and sister are. They aren’t near the phone so they don’t answer of course but they are supposed to call back. Somebody is taking them a message.

As soon as he makes the call, like less than fifteen minutes later, we get the next call. Grampa Victor is dead. I pass this news along to my father. He bolts up and grabs my brother. I’m old enough to stay home but he has to get to the camp to tell my mother in person and make sure they get home okay. Dad wasn’t the only one who loved grampa Victor with all of his heart. Everyone did, and as his oldest grandchild my mother and him had a very strong connection. It didn’t hurt that she went over and helped with my great aunt all of the time either. My dad new the affect this news was going to have on my mother. So I guess there is a lesson there, sometimes a man has to do what needs doing and sometimes he has to do it alone, but it’s still not the point.

So off they go. I’m alone, one of my heroes is dead, one of my giants is gone. He was old but I never would have expected it to happen. I’m trying to watch TV but I just don’t care. I’m trying to read but I just don’t care. Nothing is holding my interest because grampa Victor is dead. I’m holding it together pretty well though. I’m a little man and some tears slip out but not many.

Now my dad drives fast normally and like a demon is after him when there is an emergency he is dealing with. There’s a story about that somewhere else here. But this camp was hours away. My mother calls while I’m numb to the world. She got the message and dad hasn’t got there yet. So I tell her dad is on the way and I start to choke up. She coaxes out of me the news. I told my mother over the phone that the person everyone in the family loved, even the ones who hated each other is gone. Then I broke down and shed tears to rival the floods that would occur if the world’s biggest dam broke.

So life went on. I don’t remember much after that except hating crying and my mom telling me it was okay. My father had told me men didn’t cry. This is something he later told me was, “complete bullshit and I’m sorry I taught you that both in my words and how I was.” Even he never told me to stop it. If grampa Victor didn’t deserve some manly tears then nobody did. Still, he held it all in. He was sad, he was angry, but he didn’t cry. Until he did.

At the funeral my dad lost his composure. He cried, silently, in the pew next to me. He hated doing it. I saw him get angry. When I told him it was okay to cry for this he told me it wasn’t, that it was okay for me but he didn’t cry. His eyes told me a different story. His eyes spoke of love, respect, and loss. His actions taught me it was okay to feel, even the bad stuff.

So there is a basic lesson here. The lesson that sometimes men cry. That it is okay to be vulnerable and to love. That’s the easy lesson though, and we all know it even if we believe and/or espouse something different. It is the lesson I took away then, in my mind. Like many of the things my dad taught me there is something deeper that I took away in my heart. The lesson I learned but didn’t understand then but I do now.

That lesson is this. There is always an exception. No matter how deep your conviction, how hard and fast the rule, how steadfastly you hold the belief there is always an exception. In my father’s mind men did not cry, they barely showed emotion. Now I admit I have seen him cry a few times, but not many, since then, but that was the second and the first one was very different and taught me a different lesson. That was the first time I saw him cry that I could remember at the time. He very much believed in that rule about men not doing it. However, he broke it for my great grandfather. He broke it for a man he was not related to by blood but attached to in every other way. There is always a time to bend and break rules, even your own. The important thing is knowing which ones need to be bent, which ones need to be broken, and when it is time to do so. He taught me that a man has to know these things, even if he makes them up on the fly. That some things and some people are worth denying yourself, denying the world, and even looking bad for. I guess that’s a couple of lessons really, but it’s all rolled up into one.

As a man, learn to keep your pride but when it is right defy your ego, even if it makes you look weak to yourself or others. You have to be strong enough to know when those opinions don’t matter. You have to be proud enough to know when it is okay to step outside of your own self definition.

#nonfiction #aboutme #novel #socialcommentary #thoughts #writer #nonfiction

Spotlighting

So I met this author on Google+. She does an author spotlight every Friday and is just kind of all around awesome as a person. In the sense of turn about is fair play, and well because I'm in her spotlight this week I will share the link.

Hit the site up, buy one of her books. Go back every Friday and learn about a new author in a broad range of writing styles.

http://www.nattiekai.com/

#aboutme #authors #novel #shamelessselfpromotion #thoughts #writers

This is Kind of Bad Ass

I will let the site speak for itself mostly.

https://www.authorgraph.com/books?utf8=%E2%9C%93&search=Old+Odd+Ends









#aboutme #novel #shamelesssselfpromotion

Ugh! Part 1

So I still do not enjoy my job but I like the people. This is a temp thing but I take it seriously. Found out today my foreman referred me as a lead for the temps. Which means... same hours, same money, less physical, more bossing people around. No matter where I go I end up managing people. This is leading me to think of writing nonfiction. Thinking of a book called "Degrees and Industry are Very Important and Other Lies About Management". So maybe something great can come of this.

So I'm happy but still. It could be better. In the meantime, go by the book. You deserve it.





#aboutme #author #commentary #novel #shamelessselfpromotion

Still Bad but Not so Bad

Okay, no story today, but if the prompt comes up I'll have one tomorrow I think.

Still not happy about having to accept this job for the short term but something hit me today.

Call it God, call it the universe, call it fate or your own personal muse. As a writer or any kind of artist sometimes something puts us where we need to be. While I was, and am still I guess, raging about this whole necessity my mind wandered onto two new ideas for stories today. All because I am where I am.

Damn it, now I need to be less upset.

Note, this does not mean you should not go buy the book. Now I have more ideas and not enough time to put them out. Your purchases help that goal. Just sayin'.







#aboutme #author #commentary #thoughts #writer #writing #muse

It's That Time Again

So I had the first day at this temp job. I think I managed to get carpal tunnel in my shoulder after one night. Help save me from myself and pick up a copy of the novel. If you already have please go write a review so more people will see it.

Putting the finishing touches on three stories to put out a book of shorts soon. Since I can't do that as a Kindle Exclusive I'm going to look into the other ereaders for that one too.

But for now go here, click the appropriate link on the right, or search for Old Odd Ends on Amazon. http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00NCV8UVK





#aboutme #author #novel #shamelessselfpromotion

Old Odd Ends

So it has been a few days. #shamelessselfpromotion time. Go buy the book if you haven't! If you have please review! Short one on this subject today. I am looking at putting together a book of shorts in the next month or two as well. We'll see how that works out.

My favorite short right now is the one I just wrote for a contest so I can't post that one yet. Sad, but I'll get to it later.

Anyway, yeah... links to the right. If you fall outside of those markets you can just search for Old Odd Ends on Amazon or Createspace if you prefer.


#aboutme #author #novel #thoughts #writer #writing

Oh God No!

So there is a new writing prompt up and I have an idea for it but I am stopping by here for a bit first. Will be writing on the projects between the two as well. Mostly I had to share this piece of personal horror.

I had to accept a tempt job today. Half the pay rate of my last job, graveyard shift, part time, in an industry I have never worked. It is making me reminisce fondly of the days I worked fast food in my twenties. Yeah, I actually wouldn't mind that right now. But! It's something which I don't have right now.

I remember the guy that worked those fast food jobs. He was a bitter bastard. He hated everyone and was angry at the world that allowed him to be stuck in these dead end jobs. I hated that guy. You would hate that guy. Let's make sure that guy does not come back. Help me make sure I never have to take a job like this again.

How? So glad you asked.

If you have not bought my book yet go do so. If you have bought the book tell your friends and family to do so. Once you have done that go write a review for me on Amazon as that drives sales. Help a starving #author not become an angry, bitter old man before his time. That's it. Buy the #novel or promote the #novel and review it for me. You know you want to.Here, I'll make it easier for you. How to find the place to buy or review the book.

If you are in the US you can click on this link http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00NCV8UVK and it will take you to my author page where the paperback and ebook are listed. If you are in the UK, Germany, or France you can find the link over on the right side and down a little bit. Yes, the US store is there too but we are a society focused on instant gratification. So I make it easier. If you are in an Amazon market outside of those listed just go to Amazon and search for Old Odd Ends and purchase either the paperback of ebook. Simple right?

But wait... Patrick, what if I don't want to sign up for Amazon? Glad you asked. You can get the paperback on my createspace estore located here https://www.createspace.com/4986985 Aren't I just all about customer service?

But wait again.... Patrick, what if I am one of those people seeing this thanks to your linking the blog to Google+ and don't want to follow one of those links but do it in the most difficult way possible? Glad you asked that too! Follow the trail of breadcrumbs to my profile and there is a clickable link to the US author page there.

I think I have covered about every way to get my book other than walking in to your local bookshop and asking them to order it off createspace for you. Don't do that one though. The royalties suck and it will take you longer. Plus, if you're like me you'll forget you meant to do it and I will be a sad panda.

Okay, think I am done with this part now. In short, save me from myself and this terrible economy and buy my book. #AllHallowsRead is coming up and it is dark enough to make a good gift for an adult on your list. Go forth and be terrified.



#aboutme #shamelessselfpromotion

Political Anger

In general I try to avoid politics but today I can't. Promise I'll post a story later to make up for it.

I'm feeling very angry that with the budget extension congress can attach a rider to fund rebels but not bother to #reneweuc. If you live in the States reach out to your reps. Or you can go buy my book and make it unnecessary for me at least. Better yet... both.

Good thing there's not an election coming up or anything.

Okay, rant off. Again, sorry about that.






#aboutme #anger #politicalcommentary #shamelessselfpromotion #socialcommentary #novel

Semi Random Thought

So I was out walking tonight and almost got hit by a van as I was crossing the street. The van was turning and behind me and no I wasn't texting and walking... at that point. As I start to back up the driver is waving at me frantically to cross. I finally did but I was wondering what kind of crazy person I was to walk in front of a vehicle that had just come close to running me over.

That got me thinking about why I walk. It started it as a way of continuing to lose weight but I keep doing it for the creative process. I walk and listen to a random Pandora station. Okay, not random, it's normally the one with the female led rock bands. But I keep doing it even on days I don't want to.

I got the inspiration from The Artist's Way. Losing the rest of the stomach I can live without if I have to, but losing the creative voice? Hell no. Seriously, if you are a creative person at all, no matter the medium, pick up that book. It is an eight week course and well worth it. Everyone I have introduced to it has thanked me profusely. It is also part of what finally got me off my ass to go publish something.

Hey, look at that. Promotion for something else. What is my world coming to?






#aboutme #artists #authors #author #commentary #thoughts #writer #writers #writing #theartistsway

New Links

So I just discovered that when you set up your page on Author Central for Amazon it only does the US.

Spent some time doing the other markets that have one available and added the links over to the right there. Now I have a page in the US, UK, Germany, and France. Doing this publishing thing really eats into actual writing time.

Thank you to the visitor from Germany I have been noticing. Seeing that hit made me go back and read the email from Amazon about setting up the additional pages. I put all of the information in English because I don't trust translation programs completely and don't want to butcher another language. Interesting thing is while I can add twitter to all of the other markets I am only able to link this blog in the US. Makes me think about putting the link in my biography.

I also noticed some errors in the bio for Amazon because I copy pasted it from the back of the book cover information. Now it makes more sense.

So more links! Also more shameless self promotion since I am all about that. I guess I am also all about ease of use.

Okay, that is enough random musings and shameless self promoting information from an overtired me.








#aboutme #author #hello #novel #shamelessselfpromotion #thoughts #writer #writing #germany #uk #france