Posts Tagged ‘Books’

A Flashback From Years Ago

November 29, 2018

Me:  (after being corrected on the “proper” way to say the name of a fictional tribe from a book)  Huh.  My book didn’t come with a pronunciation guide, can I see yours then?


Now Where Was I?

July 25, 2014

As I was going to say before I got roped into a zoo trip with L. this morning, sometimes its easy for time to get away from us.  Nobody knows this better than a writer who’s been told “I’ll read your book as soon as ______.”  You quickly learn that continuing silence after that statement means that for one reason or another, your book is gathering dust somewhere.

Mr. Phillion, in light of the significant delay since I last mentioned your book,  I wish you to know that your book is indeed gathering dust somewhere . . . in a shipping box in transit to my address as I type this.

You don’t get off that easily, bucko.


April 30, 2014

So a good friend of mine, Matthew Phillion, recently completed the path to publication for his book, The Indestructibles, leaving me in something of a quandary. You see, I’m genuinely happy for him and want to congratulate him, but males in general, and writers in particular, have a reputation for being overcompetitive and better at insulting than complimenting one another. While that’s not entirely true, of course, I confess my first thought was to playfully rake him over the coals a bit as tradition requires. You know, something along the lines of “Since I am mentioned in the acknowledgements, I am contractually obligated to say something nice about your book here.”

But I decided all that would be inappropriate.

Congratulations, Matt. You fought hard for this day, and you’ve definitely earned your laurels for this one. I doubt I’ll have the chance to read the finished product before this weekend at the earliest, but read it I shall.




And then I’ll rake you over the coals.

Devouring Some Good Books

March 29, 2013

Honestly, this has been one of “those” weeks for me, and I’m not even sure why; I just know that it has been, and that stress fractures are starting to show in my psyche.  Case in point:

Around my dinner time earlier this week, L. wanted me to play out on the porch with him.  (He had already eaten, you see.)  Since my dinner was in a bowl, I figured it would be easy enough to humor him and still eat, so I told him I just needed to get my shoes, and then we’d go play.  Lala (who hadn’t heard this exchange), looks up to see me getting my shoes, and asks me where I’m going.

“I’m running away from home,” I told her.

“With a bowl of food in your hands?” she asked.

“I don’t want to get hungry on the road,” I haughtily sniffed.

“Shouldn’t you have some books in a knapsack or something?” she inquired.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I sneered.  “That would taste terrible!”