Oregon Coast Adventures in a Storm!

A friend of mine and I went to Newport and a few national park areas. Unfortunately it is Autumn, meaning that it rains almost every day on the coast/Willamette Valley; in fact it was storming when we got there! But the pictures turned out nice and we had wet, cold adventures.

                                       A sea lion! There were quite a few when we went.

                                          Newport doing it's impression of Silent Hill

                                 This is all we could see out the car at times due to the heavy
                                                                     fog and rain.

                                 This is horror movie weather. Can you spot the ax-murderer?

I am usually not photogenic, but maybe the cold weather suits me.

Southern Adventures

Well, I need to post more often. I have been pretty occupied. I have a novel, a novella and 9 short stories I am sending out to lit agents and lit mags (respectively). With 11 different works out there I am sure to be published soon! Until then, I should update you with some of my adventures. First! The South (specifically Charleston).

                                               The fam rented a little Southern mansion on
                                                 the coast. It's on stilts for hurricane season.

                                                                    The backyard.

                                              The backyard's dock which leads to a canal
                                                         leading to the Atlantic Ocean.

                                                                    In Charleston

                                Fort Sumter. The coolest part of the boat ride over was seeing
                                                                   dolphins in the bay.

                             A Southern visit wouldn't be complete without a visit to a swamp.

                                                               Take that Charleston!

Mortified

     Every now and then I have the opportunity or misfortune of finding some of my old worker. As a writer I take pride in evolving, developing my style and becoming better. So when I come across my old stuff, especially from when I was starting out I can't help but cringe. Yes, even at some stuff that I published. Recently I found five word docs from four years ago and it was like reading the ravings of a psyche patient. Most of them weren't finished and all of them were clearly going for something but got whacked at a dark gas station along the way. But one particular story I found was finished, in proper manuscript format and damned if it didn't make me smile. In fact, it was so good I added it to my revolving cake display and am going to send it off to litmags for publication. It was definitely ahead of its time.

     But yes, looking back at older works is a lot like finding your old childhood diary and realizing how much of an idealistic moron you were.

The Kindest Rejection Ever

     After quitting my job, and a glorious little outing to South Carolina, it's back to writing and submitting! 

     Which brings me to my favorite rejection, which just came in last week. I sent in my book to a literary agency which will go unnamed. The response I received was: "There really was a lot to like about it, I thought. The writing was great and the world building credible, and nicely served up." But ultimately the publisher chose not to take it due to the slower build-up (in my defense, I only got to send in the first three chapters. The shark-punching and explosions come later). 

     So, I'm a great writer, but no thanks. As far as rejections go, that is at least a nice way to put it, and it beats my previous favorite rejection I got for a story which remains unpublished to this day. A year ago I wrote a high-concept piece meant to illustrate the arbitrary assignment of meaning to actions. The set-up was that an alien who was monitoring the daily life of a California yuppie has a machine that tracks his every movement and another that tracks his emotions. The two fall out of sync and so the alien has to put the daily routine and emotions through a simulator and see which is the more plausible. Three simulations (or stories) are created and while the actions are the same in each story their meaning completely changes. Either in one story the yuppie is a happy person who learns his girlfriend is cheating on him and looks for solace in a Buddhist monastery. In another he is suicidally depressed and when his girlfriend reveals she is cheating on him, something which he expected, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders as the certainty brings him closer to acceptance and the Buddhist principle of letting go. In the final scenario he realizes he is gay and his girlfriend cheating on him opens up the possibility for him to fall in love with Krish, the bald-headed, soft-handed monk.

     I thought it was good. The only rejection letter that detailed why it was rejected (most litmags don't because they deal with hundreds of stories and personal letters would bog them down) said it was 'too esoteric.' Perhaps being the pseudo-intellectual I am I took that as backhanded praise. But it would have been nice to have that piece published and share it's genius with the world.

     C'est la vie. Which is French for 'dammit.'