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By: Aaron Polson,
on 4/2/2012
By: Aaron Polson,
on 2/8/2012
In the event of an apocalypse, the silence would frighten me the most. Think about all the noise in our lives from television, the internet, text messages, Twitter, Facebook, advertisements, our families and friends...
If I was fortunate to survive the cataclysmic event, the silence would be maddening.
I've been relatively silent lately. I'd love to say it was because of all the writing I'm doing. Not so. I'm struggling to stay afloat with baby Elliot, Max's health concerns, making sure Owen knows we still love him even though the other brothers are sapping 95% of our energy. My wife goes back to work tomorrow, and that's added a little stress, too.
I need to write now more than ever. It's my therapy and my drug and my salvation.
I need to write, but just when I need it, the time doesn't exist. I've scratched out maybe 20K words this year so far. Maybe. I've only edited an submitted one short story. I have novel ideas which threaten to die in their infancy if I can't find a release valve.
And the silence is killing me. (And by "killing" I mean figuratively.)
By: Aaron Polson,
on 11/11/2011
By: Aaron Polson,
on 8/31/2011
I spent the summer in feverish home improvement because, yes, we're having another baby.
No, we don't know the gender (nor do we find out--few surprises hold so much joy in our world).
Yes, I'm excited and scared and happy and nervous and...
You fill in the blank.
End of line.
By: Aaron Polson,
on 7/6/2011
June was my least productive month since starting to write five years ago. I managed to squeeze out 12,000 words on a so-so novel. Maybe it's better than so-so. I did manage to sub one story (which is being "held for further consideration"). But as far as write 1 / sub 1... I'm a failure. I'm suffering from a severe case of the blahs right now.
Have you heard of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs? (here's the Wikipedia primer, if needed)
During the home remodel (and yes, it has spilled beyond the bathrooms), I feel stuck on level 2: safety.
Notice "creativity" falls under the top level.
*sigh*
My wife told me to go on sabbatical. I'm not going to do that. I love writing too much.
But for now, I'm going to spend a few hours on rebuilding my home.
How's the summer in your world?
By: Aaron Polson,
on 6/21/2011
Our home remodeling project has required a new wall.
While this sounds daunting, building a wall has been one of the easier tasks in which I've engaged. Nail a few studs (2" x 4" wood boards) together and you have a wall. Make sure they're level and square, of course. Hang the Sheetrock (or other wall covering) and no one can tell the difference between your wall and the pro's.
I hope.
Before I hung Sheetrock (gypsum board panels--it's what most interior walls are covered with rather than wood paneling anymore), I wrapped a signed copy of Loathsome, Dark and Deep in a plastic bag and stuffed it between two studs. Maybe in another fifty years someone will tear down my wall and wonder at the little book. Maybe they'll read it. Maybe they'll simply dynamite the place and never find it. My wife thought I was crazy.
I thought the idea was kind of fun. Besides... I've been a little disappointed at not finding any treasure as I've demolished our house. I wouldn't want to rob a future home re-modeler of the joy.
Cheers.
By: Aaron Polson,
on 6/16/2011
I'll get to FANBOYS next week. My wife and I are celebrating our 10 year wedding anniversary today.
'nuff said, right?
By: Aaron Polson,
on 5/23/2011
Max finished preschool last Friday. I admit there were tears in my eyes. I tried to be tough, but what the hell. We have taken our children Raintree Montessori since 2006 when Owen started as a three-year-old. Max ended our tenure there in the same classroom.
Five years. Goodbyes are hard.
Today is the last Monday of school. Seniors are gone already. My juniors will be saying goodbye for the summer (those who don't have to take final exams, at least--we have an exemption policy).
I've gotten used to the hello-goodbye process at school; this is my 12th year.
But when it is my own kids... Sometimes life seems too short.
I find myself thinking of the last story in Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, "Lives of the Dead". While I'm not writing about anyone's death, I am reminded of why I like stories. Like any piece of art, they can imbue life into something gone. I can write a story about a preschool boy and paint him with my Max brush. I like that about stories. They can live forever, just as they are, while the real "us" have to move on.
Have a great day.
By: Aaron Polson,
on 4/23/2011
Fair warning: It's one of those "Big Experiment" posts.
I should have started this "indie publishing" thing six months ago. Am I going to retire soon? No, not at $0.35 a book, but my sales are definitely growing month to month. And when I write "sales" what I really mean is "potential readers". This week alone, I've seen more sales than the entire month of March. The Bottom Feeders continues to be my bestselling book, with 22 copies and counting out the virtual door. Notice: I'm not selling a ridiculous amount of any one book, but several are selling modestly well. Each book is a potential reader--note I use the word potential. Do you read everything you buy?
Will the trend continue? I hope so. It's a pretty steep curve.
Scott Nicholson, an indie author who has traveled the "traditionally-published path" and man for whom I have a great deal of respect, recently posted a blog entry Marketing is Not Selling. Read it and the companion piece on IndieReader. My favorite bit: "...I am not screaming "Buy my book." I'd rather you feed your family, or buy some seeds, or donate to your favorite local charity. That's what I do when you buy my book."
Feed your family.
For the first time I feel like I might be able to actually contribute to my family through writing rather than taking away. Think about it: years spent banging at the keyboard when I could have been doing something else. I've taken myself away from my family for my fictional worlds. It isn't as simple as that, but the kernel of truth is there.
Look in the mirror, Aaron: You are not evil because you want to be compensated for your time and effort. Got it? Good.
Yes, I've been releasing e-books faster than Jerry puts the smack-down on Tom. I have a pool of over 100 published short stories, some of them smelly as last week's garbage (don't worry about seeing them again) and several unpublished shorts which were "that close". Why let them fester on my hard drive? It's taken me years to arrive at this point. Years and thousands upon thousands of words.
After my current round of edits on The Sons of Chaos and the Desert of the Dead, I'm going to put the finishing touches on Borrowed Saints for a May release. I'm toying with the idea of writing a House Eaters sequel this summer.
The bottom line: I want to be read. I might be able to spread some good fortune to my family. Sounds like goals are meeting reality, right?
I just wish I would have started six months ago.
What are you waiting for?
By: Meredith Wood,
on 12/7/2010
I was reading over my Yahoo news this morning and found an article about skipping out on a debit card for kids. I read through it. I also read about Angelina Jolie's jewelry line. The Jewelry line didn't hold my interest as much as the teens with debit cards article did. It wasn't that I agreed with the article since I really don't have much of an opinion on it at all. But when I read some articles I know the comments are going to entertain me so I click on the threads.
Right off the bat the first comment pissed me off. Naturally, I countered this pissed off feeling by telling myself the author of the comment had no sense what so ever, but still. Now I know I could reply to him/her but I've learned enough about people over the years to know that would be useless.
Joe and I have talked about our lives as teens to our own kids. I try my best to be completely honest with them. One of the realizations we've come up with is that we ran totally wild. All of our friends did too. We would leave the house on a weekend morning and be gone all day and all evening doing all kinds of things that should have gotten us killed. A few times it did kill some of us. We'd stand in shock over that person's death but eventually the shock would fade. We'd be back to entertaining ourselves with whatever crazy idea one of us came up with.
Sure we were supposed to check in with our parents. That was the "right" parenting move back then. But checking in with our parents on our own time frame and on our own terms was weak, especially considering some of the things we got up to. Most of our parents were worried about sex. I laugh when I think about this because sex was probably the least of their worries. It was the innocent fun that was the most dangerous. Why? Well because kids will be kids and we never imagined we'd ever die. We were invincible.
So why type up all this just to talk about my kids having cell phones? When the teens around me first started getting them I thought it was a crazy idea, just one more thing to spoil them rotten with. I don't feel that way now, not after learning the wonderful benefits to them. Technology is not always something to be feared. My kids know that if I call them and they don't answer their cell phone that's cause for me to ground them. Perhaps they didn't hear it ring. Sure I can accept that. However when I text, "CALL ME" they had better call me right then. I know they don't miss their text messages. Ever.
Facebook allows me to keep up with them in a way begging them to talk never could. Yes, they'll still hide things from me but since I'm not a bumbling idiot like the commenter said I can read between the lines on these networking sites.
In short, this is where I stand: Cell phones are a wonderful thing for a teen.
By: Aaron Polson,
on 10/25/2010
It's Monday, which means I'm tired and sunburned from watching the Kansas City Chiefs put a whooping on Jacksonville, 42-20. I'll admit there was a little nail-biting in the third quarter, but after a pick six by Derrick Johnson, the hammer was most effectively brought down.
Okay, enough sports blah-blah-blah.
1. A Repeat
Friday night (I had the day off after a marathon twelve-hour parent/teacher conference day on Thursday), we held our second trying-to-be annual "drive-in" movie night in our backyard. It was load of fun as you can obviously tell in this out-of-focus and rather dark picture:
Last time around, we watched Scooby-Doo. This year, it was Shaun the Sheep, Little Sheep of Horrors. Claymation fun for everyone! (Yes, we projected the movie on a sheet attached to our roof.)
2. A List
The table of contents for Day Terrors (from The Harrow Press) is official, and it includes:
Ataraxia — Scott Brendel
Sea of Green, Sea of Gold — Aaron Polson
The Wish Man and the Worm — J.M. Heluk
The Woman in the Ditch — Scott Lininger
And the Crowd Goes Wild — John Jasper Owens
No Sin Remains A Secret — Jack Bowdren
The Heat Has Fangs — Trent Roman
In Lieu of Flowers — Chad McKee
Down Where the Blue Bonnets Grow — Daniel R. Robichaud
The Infatuate — Adam Walter
Fiddleback — Lorna D. Keach
Daddy Long Legs — Harper Hull
Miss Riley’s Lot — Gregory Miller
Closing the Deal — Lee Clark Zumpe
Customs — Mark Rigney
A Day at the Beach — Lawrence Conquest
Uncle Alec’s Gargoyle — Rebecca Fraser
Carrington Cove — Davin Ireland
Lollipop — Jason Sizemore
Companion — Rob E. Boley
Sands of Time — E. C. Seaman
The TOC with story blurbs can be found at The Harrow. I had fun with my story because it let me make up more crazy sh*t about Kansas. I sure like to make up crazy sh*t about Kansas...
10 Comments on A Repeat, a List, and an Echo, last added: 10/27/2010
By: Charnelle,
on 8/1/2010
I am so excited to be apart of Watercolor Wednesdays! Between traveling and my summer internship, I have been swamped with work, but here is a piece I did for family Stuff (and my first official post). I can always tell who's home by the shoes that are left near the front door :)
By: Aaron Polson,
on 7/26/2010
Max and Owen caught a number of smallish fish at a city "lake" this morning. We've been fishing a few times this summer with no luck. When Max (sporting the stylish Scooby-Doo fishing pole) reeled in that blue gill, you would have thought he'd caught the great white whale. We are strictly catch-and-release fishermen (as if anyone could find a half-ounce of meat on that poor little fella, anyway). Good times.
Where'd Max get that goofy smile? Must be from his mother's side.
Speaking of hauling things in, "Precious Metal" received a nice write-up in this review of Albedo One #38. Yeah, I smiled when I read it--but it wasn't like catching my first live fish with a bona fide Scooby-Doo pole...
(Okay, so the review has vanished into the ether...I'll post a link when I can find one which isn't broken, 'kay?)
By: Aaron Polson,
on 7/14/2010
If you haven't noticed, I've been a piss-poor citizen of the online community this summer. Not only has my posting frequency fallen into the proverbial toilet, I haven't made "commenting rounds" enough. I feel disconnected. Disillusioned with writing, too, but that's another story.
I'll try to be a better citizen. Promise. Just like I promise to write more.
By: Aaron Polson,
on 7/2/2010
I feel like I've been out of the loop of late...kind of have. I'm up to my eyeballs in paint (Owen and Max's rooms), carpet (Max's room), and the previously mentioned potions/spy games. Not to mention soccer two nights a week, swimming lessons, drama camp...seriously, aren't I "off" in the summer?
Anyway, we're headed to our Fourth of July celebration today, and I thought I'd leave with a moment of zen from last year:
(Notice how there wasn't a WIP Wednesday? I'm still circling the airfield.)
By: Aaron Polson,
on 6/28/2010
Welcome to summer at my house.
Yesterday, Owen and Max made "potions" in our front yard, a variation on mud pies, I suppose. They filled a few old plastic bottles with their nefarious concoctions, and when I asked what was in the bottles, Owen replied, "magic potions."
"Oh," I said. "Potions. Sweet. What do they do?"
"Turn you into a gorilla," he said.
Me: whistle. "I guess I shouldn't drink it, then."
This morning, they constructed binoculars out of mini-planters (the biodegradable kind for starting tomato plants). And what, pray tell, did they do with said binoculars? Spy on the tree trimming crew across the street.
Ah, the power of imagination.
(I think they were waiting for one of the tree trimming guys to turn into a gorilla.)
By: Aaron Polson,
on 6/17/2010
Water in your basement. That's what.
We had a torrential downpour yesterday leading to water in the basement. We haven't dealt with this scenario in about five years, thank goodness.
So I'm quiet on the 'net. Be back when we're dry.
By: Aaron Polson,
on 6/14/2010
Although my wife may argue based on my earnings/time spent ratio, writing is not a "hobby" of mine; I consider it a vocation and treat it as such.
By: Aaron Polson,
on 6/7/2010
My wife found a note yesterday. She made the mistake of thinking it might be a love note left behind by her darling husband.
The first line read:
I'm a murderer, but I won't ever be able to convince anyone of that simple fact.
Looks like someone needs to keep his writing notes in a notebook, eh?
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By: Ruth McNally Barshaw,
on 5/28/2010
By: Ruth McNally Barshaw,
on 4/3/2010
Exactly 21 years ago doctors were telling me I was not in labor, go back to sleep and wait for induction in the morning.
The baby was two weeks overdue and I was anxious to hold her.
But they were wrong. I was in labor, and the baby came so fast she caught everyone by surprise, especially her daddy who was running down the hospital corridor toward our delivery room when he heard a baby cry... his newborn daughter.
Katie has been surprising us ever since.
When she was three, she was that kid who'd take all her clothes off and dance on the picnic table at camp.
She chewed out Santa Claus, telling him he was too fat.
She helped unpack Christmas ornaments, held up a cherub ornament and called it a "kid butterfly with no clothes on."
I captured all these moments in cartoon cards I sent to my ailing grandpa. He died when Katie was four, and the family gave me the big box of cartoons I'd been sending him since Katie was a tiny infant. There it was, all of it: Katie's hilarious early childhood in cartoons.
I thought this meant I had a future in comic strips, but after two particularly heart-rending rejections I gave up and tried kids' books instead. That worked out better.
Maybe someday those letters to Grandpa will be a book.
I'd also like to do a book just on Katie. Here's one idea that hasn't panned out yet:
There will be more; Katie's a very colorful character.
For fans of Ellie McDoodle, Risa is absolutely Katie (right down to one of the surprises in book three, coming out in August, where Risa sneaks an evil pet into the house).
Happy Birthday, Katie!
By: Ruth McNally Barshaw,
on 2/14/2010
My husband found this for me today.
It's the rough draft of a Mother's Day poem written by my son, Joey, when he'd just turned 11.
I will leave the punctuation, spelling and capitalization as in its charming original.
--------------
marvolous is she
M - mom qualities that she has a lot of
O - other stuff she's good at
^ outstanding mom that she is
T - taught me how to live
teacher of me
H - ha ha is her laugh
happiness she brings to me
E - ever forgiving, she is
eternally grateful am I
R - Ruth is her name
reluctant she is not
M - moron, she is not
mother of my lifetime
O - ouchies she makes better
our love will never end
M - merturnity clothes she wears
my great mother she is
I love you
--------------
Joe is a songwriter today.
I bet he's writing songs and sweet poems for his wife, now.
We don't know, sometimes, the seeds we sow, in the daily work we take on.
We can't tell if they're pretty weeds or heirloom roses until time has passed.
Sometimes our good ideas take root and blossom into beauty that changes others at the same time it helps us.
Sometimes our ideas are seeds that fall on rocky ground -- they can't take root without help from others.
Books are like that.
They spring from a germ of an idea, but they need nourishment to grow into a full book.
So many hands take part in bringing up a book, and it's not just the obvious, the author, the long-suffering partner/spouse of the author, the critique group, the editor, agent, designers, copy editors, publicist, salespeople, librarians, teachers, booksellers, various specialists, the reviewers, the discerning readers...
Books need communities in order to grow.
Authors need friends, connections with humanity that sprout ideas and inklings and what-if's.
Writing can be a lonesome career, but no writer writes alone.
3 Comments on Happy Valentine's Day!, last added: 2/17/2010
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By: Ruth McNally Barshaw,
on 12/16/2009
By: Ruth McNally Barshaw,
on 12/14/2009
By: Ruth McNally Barshaw,
on 11/1/2009
I was at Libba Bray's blog (here) for the name of her book that got optioned for a movie (a dream probably every author harbors), because Charlie was talking about The Lovely Bones movie, and it made me think, I don't write on my blog much. I don't know who reads it. I don't know if it's fun to read when there's something there. I do know it's not fun to read when there's nothing there, and lately there's been a lot of nothing. I don't even publicize my upcoming author appearances. So that's changing...
Halloween usually sneaks up on me, but this year I was ready.
It helped that it fell on a Saturday. We had events all week, leading up to it, including Emily's haunted house in middle school (o0O0o.o0O0o, scary!).
It also helped that, despite massive quantities of vitamins and echinacea, I had a slight sore throat yesterday, and as a result had lowered expectations for my involvement in the holiday (read: I sat on the couch munching popcorn while watching tv, no guilt) (please don't tell me how corn translates to sugar in the bloodstream, and sugar is friend to infection and won't help me get healthy. I know this)
On Friday morning, no sore throat yet, I helped transport my grandson plus 24 fancy cupcakes and a gallon of orange juice to his 2nd grade classroom.
Charlie (husband & substitute teacher) and Emily (7th grader) took the car to the middle school. Oldest daughter had a meeting in the morning which left me to get her kid off to school. Enter my son, who was willing to leave his bride and warm bed to drive us to school. I think it also may have been raining.
At school I:
- balanced like a tightrope walker through crowded halls, delivered the gigantic box of cupcakes and juice and then ran out of the classroom before they could make me teach a game or bag cupcakes.
- decided to look in on a few of my teacher pals and found one who'd gotten stuck in traffic behind a jack-knifed semi for a half hour and missed her chance to set up for the classroom party before the kids arrived. I helped tape the Evil Twister game into place, and helped set up food. Another parent jumped in to help tape (evil tape) and I started thinking about a Halloween book in my head. If it comes to fruition you'll know this was the origin.
- took a prime position in the hallway and then raced over to the gym for two views of the costume parade. Wow, what great fun. My favorite costume: Captain Underpants. Obviously homemade (which I love) and this kid did not look happy to be in his undies, which sparked instant sympathy. How many times have I picked a costume in the quiet safety of my home, then regretted it the instant I stepped out in public? Too many times. Kudos to that kid for taking a risk. It's so much easier and so much less creative to buy a scary mask and dress all in black. (which, I've done that, too)
My friend Frank was dressed in a tablecloth dress and funny wig. He's always entertaining -- a book waiting to be written. Great parade.
- talked with some of the other parents about the middle school band concert the other night. We're in crisis over there. We had an outstanding, best-ever, top of the line, absolute greatest band teacher you could ever hope to meet, for two years, and due to budget cuts he was pink-slipped in June. He has found a new job in another state. (cue: wailing and gnashing of teeth) In his place they forced a young orchestra teacher who minored in music and doesn't know band.
It's outrageous, unfair, disheartening. At the concert the band played like they'd lost two years of instruction. They went from competitive to grade school in one season. I blame the school board and am voting to replace the non-responsive among them, hoping for a big change.
- chatted with my pals in the principal's office, hugs to the librarian Marty an
Oh my god, Aaron. I am so, so sorry.
Oh, Aaron...there are no words.
This is just awful. I'm so sorry Aaron.
Oh no, Aaron. I'm so sorry.
God man that's terrible. So so sorry.
I don't even know what to say, man. My heart goes out to you and your family.
Thank you all.
My god...Aaron...I am so sorry, man.
Like they said, no words. So much love, Aaron.
Aaron, my sincerest condolences. I had to read your post several times before what I was reading sank in.
You know we - all us bloggers - are here for you. Seriously, you are not alone. We are here for you.
Take care, my friend.
M
I am stunned and at a loss for words, Aaron. My heart goes out to you and the boys.
Aaron... our hearts are with you. :(
Aaron, I don't even know what to say. I'm so sorry. Love and hugs to you and your boys.
Aaron, I am SO SORRY to hear this. STUNNED.
My heart goes out to you and your family.
My heart aches for you sweet friend. You and your boys are in my thoughts and prayers on the smoke. (Hugs)Indigo
My heart is breaking for you. I'm so sorry, my friend.
I'm so sorry Mr. Polson. Sending prayers to you and your family.
Aaron, I am so, terribly sorry. My thoughts are with you and your family.
I'm so sorry. I don't know what I could possibly do, but I am nearby.
Aaron, I'm so sorry for your loss. Thoughts and prayers for you and your family.
Aaron,
I am so, so sorry. Thoughts and prayers are with you and your boys at this time.
Terribly sorry to hear this, buddy. =(
Condolences, Aaron. So very sorry to hear this.
Aaron, Joy, and kids, I am so so so sorry. I will call after school when I get home. Let me know what I can do to help. As you know from past experience, death of a loved one is never easy, whether it is after a prolonged illness or a sudden happening. Lean on your family and friends; let us take some of your pain.
Hugs and tears,
Kathy Sm.
So sorry...
So sorry to hear this, Aaron.
You don't know me but I am from McLouth and our family attended there. I am so sorry about y our wife, my heart aches for you and your children and family. My prayers are with you. May God give you comfort in his everlasting arms.
Aaron, I am so shocked and so sorry to hear this. My thoughts are with you and your boys.
Aaron, there are no words. Sending all good thoughts to you and your boys.
Praying for you and your family. You are loved.
My deepest condolences.
Aaron, I am so sorry...my thoughts and prayers are with you and your children during this difficult time.
Sherrie Wright
Aaron, please let me know what you need...Shane Lopez...402.321.6313
My deepest sympathies, my friend. You and your boys are in my prayers. If you need a set of ears or eyes in the coming days, drop me a line. So very sorry for you loss. Let me know of anything I can to do help.
Aaron we are so sorry to hear of your loss, please know that you and your boys are in our prayers.
Harry and Gina Hester
my deepest condolences to you Aaron and your children...
i am so sorry. i couldn't believe what i was reading and it took a while for it to sink in.
may Aimee rest in peace.
I am so very sorry to hear this.
My heart goes out to you and the boys.
So, so sad:(
Please accept my condolences.
Aaron,
Shawn & I are so deeply sorry for your loss. You and the boys are in our prayers.
-Treni Thompson
Aaron, I am so very sorry for your loss. Hugs to you and your boys.
Aaron;
"Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!" Life is so cold and so unfair, yet look into the eyes of your boys and see its beauty. Thinking of you!
so so very sorry to hear of your loss aaron.
Polson:
I don't want to bother you at the funeral, so bear with me.
There is nothing I can say that will truly matter but what I say I mean with utmost sincerity. I think about you often, our conversations, your advice, your outlook on things, always answering questions for me. I have always been moved by your ability to deal with tragedy. Amy was a gentle person and I enjoyed watching her with the boys. You are a great father and no one is better suited to take this on than you. I know you are tired of hearing this but I must... if you ever need anything, don't hesitate.
-Brandel
I don't have the words to express how sorry I am, Aaron. I wish you and your family strength.
Words from a stranger probably aren't worth much in situations like this but I am sorry for your loss
You guys are in my prayers; my heart breaks for you.
Aaron,
The word "sorry" is too hollow to make a dent in all that you are facing, but just know that you'll be in our prayers.
-An old high school classmate
You and your family will be in my thoughts, and I earnestly hope you all find relief and comfort from grief.
Aaron, I have no words for what you are going through, nothing to make it better and I was completely shocked when I heard the news only moments ago. I am truely and deeply saddend and sorry to hear of your loss and can only wish you my deepest sympathies.