9-12 & 9-13

I've now got a couple more files to Abbie, putting me at:

18 / 52

By my math, that means I'm just over one-third of the way done.  If I get as much edited this week as I did last week, I'll be at halfway by this time next week.

 Big says the Dunesteef feed expires in twelve days, so, FYI.

My cousin called me just as I was coming up the stairs at the library, so I was pretty rushed for time when I finally sat down.  Big Anklevich mocked me with his sickening number of words for today, so I put my head down and typed as fast as I could.

And kind of a miracle, I managed 1782 words.

Exercise: Yes (10)

9-13

You know, it's been a while (how long?  Shrug, a few months probably) since I was here at the library writing and due to something--a computer crash, them logging me out six or seven minutes early, a mentally ill person calling me Sigmund Freud and then throwing a copy of Biblical Archeology Review magazine at me, etc.--I lost everything I had written.  But I've got a feeling (woo-hoo) that it's gonna be today.

So, what can I do?  Maybe paste everything I've written into an email every ten minutes or so?  Oh, I'll do that thing I did yesterday where I text Big Anklevich what my word count it, as though it's a competition . . . and every time I do that, I will paste what I've written in this email to myself.  Cool plan, Jan.

You might not believe this--I certainly don't--but I got 3250 words.  By the time they did their jarring announcement, I had already typed "the end," in lowercase letters, like I always do.  Pretty cool, even if the story isn't.

I don't know what came over me, but as the clock got nearer and nearer to the moment they would kick us out of the library, I became fixated on finishing the story by then.  And either the ticking clock motivated me, or thinking about the story while mowing the lawn and exercising helped me, because I blew any previous writing productivity away.

The bad news was, I had spent my free time writing, so I wouldn't have time to go home and eat AND get some exercise in before driving down to my cousin's.  I could do one or the other.  So, I chose to eat, but I figured I could do a bunch of push-ups and sit-ups in the living room while I waited for my food to cook.  Except my sister was in the living room, watching something on her laptop, and the days of me getting my exercise in with other people around have apparently fled me.  So, no exercise (even though I used to do some at my cousin's house while he was upstairs tucking his youngest daughter and wife into bed, and it didn't even occur to me to do it tonight).

Exercise: No

9-10 and 9-11

9-10

I saw a car in the Target parking lot, with "Help Me!" written on the windows, front, sides, and back.  Kind of upsetting, I dunno.

Horror of horrors, I caught myself in the reflection

Just a reminder, my goal is to get the whole "Arcove's" book recorded this month (I'm well on my way), to exercise twenty-five days, and to finish one of my writing projects.

Exercise: Yes (went for a run)(8)

9-11

I drove up to the city today and found myself in a part of town I didn't recognize it (directions have never been my strong suit, as Big can attest with the many, many, many times I've referred to cities we were in by the wrong names), and asked my phone to direct me to the nearest Burger King.  The effing thing first tried to take me forty-two miles out of my way, so I had to ask it again and again, ultimately finding a street sign and telling it to find the nearest Burger King from there.

It told me, I drove up there, parked, got out of my car, and walked up to find . . . a sign on the door that said they were out of meat.  The door to the lobby was locked, so I trudged back to my car just as a pretty twenty-something pulled up in her little car.  "Hey, it's closed," I warned her.  "There's a sign that says they have no meat."  She didn't even hesitate, instead telling me, "I'll just get nuggets," and walking up to the building . . . where an employee inside the restaurant opened the door for her.  It sort of blew my mind, and as I followed my phone to the NEXT-closest Burger King, I kept thinking about what had just happened.

I ended up sitting in the other Burger King--in a neighborhood where English was clearly not the native language and it took me fifteen minutes to get my meal even though no one else was in line with me--trying to come up with a story where I could talk about Burger King having no meat.*  Ultimately, it came to me: I could write a story where a man takes his new stepson out for lunch to get to know him, and when they get there, the restaurant is out of meat.  That would click the box for the plan I had made about depicting a positive step-parent/step-child relationship.

I ended up writing two sentences on it when I got home before being distracted with something else (my eleven year old nephew had gotten a ball or something stuck on the roof and had gotten his also-eleven year old friend to carry a ladder onto the back deck so they could climb up on the roof to get it).  But it's the thought that counts, as always.

Later on, I had the option between going on a run and recording more chapters of "Arcove's Bright Side."  Ultimately, I chose . . . both.

Exercise: Yes (9)

*I actually had this happen one time before, when a big group of us went to the amusement park up north, and all met at Burger King to eat, only to find they were out of all meat, including chicken (didn't ask about the nuggets, though).

Rish Outcast 229: Whatchoo Leave Behind

In this ep, I talk a bit about a dead collector, and then lay out my plans for the end of October/start of November.

Sorry about the title.

To download the episode, Right-Click HERE.

To support me on Patreon, click HERE.

Logo by Gino "Whatta Behind" Moretto.

9-8 & 9/9

9-8

The other day, Big texted me to remind me that September was almost over--how fast the time flies--and I almost gave into despair, since I hadn't written a single word this month (I last went to the library on August 30th).  He was only joking, of course, since September had just begun, but hey, now we're a week in, and the next time I blink, he'll be right.

Soon it'll be time to pack it in and head on back, and I got three episodes edited on Tuesday, three on Wednesday, and one today (so far), along with an Outcast.

I guess I'd better go outside and pick up that pan of water I left for the deer--I never saw a single solitary creature, from deer to ground squirrel, drink from it, but I've always felt that it's the thought that counts, no matter what the Satanic Bible teaches us.

I went out, and there were a couple of bugs in the water (now only halfway full), and some blown pollen, but of course there was no evidence that animals had gathered round it and thought, "Gee, maybe them human beings ain't so bad after all.  Maybe we'll call off our murder plans."

But I noticed my brother's motion-activated camera nearby, pointed in the direction of the cabin, and wondered if it had caught anything approaching the pan and drinking from it.  So I got out the memory card to look at in my laptop* and . . . huh.  It was empty.  I'll have to ask my brother about it, but both it and the one nearer to the cabin, had been turned off.  Disappointing, yes, though not as disappointing as I was to my parents.

Okay, I finished editing another chapter, and the reading of a story I recorded back in November, and as a "reward," I went upstairs with my Houdini book, determined to finish it whilst on the exercise bike.  To my surprise, there was only one chapter left, and then acknowledgments, so I was done before I knew it.  Now I'm back downstairs, considering starting another chapter of Abbie's book (ultimately, I did--it was a short one), or starting to edit the podcast I recorded with Big Anklevich two days ag--wait, how can it be two weeks ago now?  Where the devil does the time go??

This is going to sound crazy, but I think I'm gonna pack up early, head down, check to see that my appointment is still on for tomorrow morning (it's 60/40 in my mind), get home, shower, and hit the library before it closes, see if I can't get a few hundred words.  That strikes me as both responsible and ambitious . . . in other words, completely out of character.

Only got 361 words before they kicked us out.  But that's 361 more words than I had yesterday.

Exercise Day: Yes (7)

9-9

"Loneliness and frustration,

We both came down with an acute case."

Warren Zevon

I got a couple more chapters in the 'box for Abbie.  That puts this crazy graph at:

14 / 52

This is another one of those days where I absolutely don't want to write, and the difference between today and all those other days . . . is that I don't have to write today.  I'm under no obligation to do so.  I'm editing audio and exercising this month, not writing.  So yay.

I only got 179 words, but the worst thing is, right before they did their little announcement, I started getting into it, enjoying the writing.  Funny that.

Exercise Day: No (7)

*I know I've said this before--heck, after a thousand blog posts in the past three years, I've said just about everything, including the new dirty word "grundle," which I vow to insert in 2023 stories as inappropriately as I do "Joanie Loves Chachi" now--but in looking through my brother's photos, I get this fun idea for a movie scene, where you're going through the pictures, and discover two or three of them have captured some . . . thing that's been lurking about unnoticed, causing a nice, upsetting moment in the film.  Today's version was a guy who meets a girl who freaks out when he speaks to her, tries to run away, and he begins to suspect that she is an honest-to-badness ghost.  But hey, there's one of those motion-detecting cameras on a wall or tree, and he retrieves the photos to prove his theory to himself . . . and only the girl is in them.  Whoops, he realizes at last, she was freaked out not because I could see her, but because she could see me.

My Voice on "Mowbot" on HorrorAddicts

Once again, I contribute a voice (or two) to the tireless Horror Addicts podcast.  This time, it's for the story "Mowbot," written by Dana Hammer (how cool a name is that?  More a private detective or professional wrestler name, do you think?).  

Here's a question: Would you spend three thousand dollars for a lawn mower that ran itself, maintained itself, and could think for itself?  And what if the neighbor's cat disappeared a day later?

Check it out HERE.

9-6 & 9-7

9-6

My cousin went on vacation with his family over the weekend, and that meant we wouldn't be getting together tonight, so I decided to pack up my stuff and hit the cabin a day early, and see if I couldn't get some more editing done.  I keep forgetting to post the little progress bars on here, but you would not be impressed if I did it every day because, while I'm kicking names and taking ass as far as the recordings go (I think I'm thirty-six chapters in), I find it almost torturous to get the chapters edited.  Every time my mouth makes that little clicking sound when I talk or I say "Roup," and the P at the end is too poppy, I have to cut it out, and that means that each chapter takes . . . well, it's forever in there, Daddy, it's forever in there!!!!!!!

I went out on the dam and did my run (ooh, I'll get to do two this trip), and inhaled a bug which I didn't cough up until I was done.

I'm sitting here watching the near-full moon moving up the side of the window.  The weather is absolutely perfect here today, what I imagine a tropical island night would be, with pineapple-tasting drinks in coconuts and steel drum music in the distance and girls milling around with bikini tops on and almost glowing skin.

I got a chapter done, discovered I had mis-attributed a line to Halvery instead of Arcove, and opened another chapter.  I also edited about fifteen minutes of my conversation with Marshal about parenting. 

After that, I made myself the literal worst corn chowder I've ever had (it tasted like that time I accidentally bought a case of "diet" vegetable soup), and watched another movie from the library (which I haven't gone to in a full week now).  It was TENET, which was visually spectacular, but even more confusing, somehow, than it had been the first time (I always figured that, if I ever saw it a second time, it would make way more sense, but really, that just made the bits that didn't make sense stand out even clearer).  I hadn't hated the movie the first time I saw it, though I did speak to some who did, but I'm leaning more toward hating it now.  Huh.

At the end of the night, I went up on the deck and rode my exercise bike while looking at the stars.  There was a frog somewhere that was singing, and I kept hearing what sounded like a canine howling at the moon, but every time I'd stop peddling to listen closer, it would stop.  There's no way they have wolves up here, right?  Not with how gun-crazy folks were when it was settled (and still are).*

Exercise Day: Yes (5)

9-7

I woke before my alarm, but not very early.  I made myself some bacon and eggs just now, while I listened to a podcast, and looking out the window and saw a young fawn walking by itself on the neighbor's property.  Weirdly, I thought I might fill a tray or pan with water and take it over there, somewhere I can see from here, and observe whether the deer would drink the water I provide for them.  Heck, I'm gonna do that now.

I wonder if deer have a heightened sense of smell like other animals do, and wouldn't partake of the water because it stinks of humans.  In my experience, pretty and noble animals as they are, they don't strike me as smart enough to equate my gift with nasty, murderous humans.  We'll see.

I was asked to narrate another story for the Kaleidocast podcast, which I believe has run two of my readings in the past.  I took a break from audio editing to record it, and found it was the story of two alien intelligences who disagree about humanity, and ultimately battle for our fate.  I think I'll do a fun robot effect on their voices, and if you don't like that . . . well, you can have the Balzac.

Back to editing.  On the chapter I'm editing today, I can tell that it was the second or third chapter I had recorded that night, because my mouth is dry and some of the words are a bit more mealy-mouthed, a bit harder to get out.  I hope Abbie doesn't notice, not when a full THIRD of a chapter I was editing last night was unusable because of the frayed microphone cord and I'll have to re-do tomorrow, if I remember.

As the moon rose, it looked close to full to me, and before long, I could hear the owls starting to call . . . along with something else.  I only heard it twice before I decided the time had come to close the windows (so much for going out on the deck and riding the exercise bike, like I did last night).  The noise was unlike anything, really, and the scene just writes itself.  "Honey, what . . ."  Carl licked his lips.  "That sound?"  It came again, long and echoey, like a woman giving birth, if somehow she'd gotten pregnant at eighty.  "Yes?  What . . . is it?"  "That," Carl said, raising his chin, "is an elk, calling to a female.  They call it trumpeting."  "An elk," Marilyn said, relieved.  "Oh."  Carl nodded, keeping his confident, brave face.  He didn't think it was an elk.  He didn't know what it was.

Exercise Day: Yes (6)

*Just a reminder, good citizens, that if that terrible Obama is elected in 2008, he'll take away all your guns.

Eye-Opening Guest Appearance on Anklecast

If you miss the Dunesteef, Big Anklevich was better than his word, and to Announcer Man (who did NOT die), he became like a second father to him.  So over on the Anklecast, he had me as a guest, where I do a voice and participate in the after-story banter, just like old times.  His story was called "Eye-Opening," about a naive artificial child brought into a family to replace the biological child who died.  

He's got music, sound effects, and a full cast, including an honest-to-Bossk CHILD doing the child's voice.  Big cast me according to type, and I get to scream and rant and beat a child with a crowbar.  It really does feel like old times, even though it's Big this time trying to have a conversation with decade-old Announcer clips.  Check it out HERE.

9/5

Today was Labor Day, which gave me a chance to catch up on work, and, because the library and post office were both closed, let me focus on stuff other than work and writing.  Went for a run at night, and recorded two chapters of "Arcove," including probably the best chapter of the book, with two former enemies talking about their lives when they were young, and seeing the world the way the other did.  

And afterward, I watched EL CAMINO, the Netflix movie sequel to the series "Breaking Bad," which I'd never much cared about seeing before, but was sure glad I did, as it was excellent, and wrapped up the story of Jesse Pinkman just as "Better Call Saul" did with Saul Goodman.  It had a great pace, and made me care about the Jesse character, who I often struggled with on the show in a way that literally nobody else did.  I was glad I watched it, and it made me wish I were a real writer instead of just a bum, which is what I am.*

Of course, I then wasted, gee, a half hour or so reading posts of people either claiming or denying that Harry Styles spat on Chris Pine at a film festival in Venice.  I could've written something, I could've edited something, I could've read an article about Goya's fourteen "black paintings," I could've gone for a run, a walk, or a pee.  But I didn't.

Exercise Day: Yes (4)

*That reminds me, though: as down as I sometimes get (it's not really even that often anymore), I try to keep it to myself most of the time.  But the other day, I thought of Karloff's Frankenstein's Monster in BRIDE saying that he hated the living and loved the dead.  That moment kept echoing in my brain until I posted on Facebook an image of the Monster, and the quote.  Unfortunately, what he says in the movie is, "Hate living, love dead."  And after I posted that, I got a message from a girl I went to college with who interpreted it as some kind of cry for help (suicidal thoughts maybe) and asked me if I was alright.  It's not a huge thing, but I'm mentioning it anyway, because, hey.

9-3 & 9/4

9-3

I went on a trip with the family to the cabin, hoping to go catch salamanders with my nephews.  I will still try to edit a chapter (and my Patreon address, which is pretty overdue) tonight, after everyone has gone to sleep.

My sister got two used kayaks (a word I've never had to spell before today) and my nephew and I each took one out on the lake, which was busier than I've ever seen it before, with rafts and little boats and kids on inner tubes, and we paddled around, until he wanted to get out on the other side and see if we could find salamanders.  We had no luck, but after an hour of hunting, muddy and sore (there were so many scratchy plants and plenty of mosquitos), he stumbled upon a black, drying puddle, that had so many in it that you could catch them by accident.

I technically didn't work on "Arcove's Bright Side" today, except that I was listening through Chapter 8 to see if there were any errors I had missed (I keep missing mistakes--sometimes obvious ones--and sending them to Abbie, and then, oh, does that thunder roll*).

It was the first day this whole year in which the power ran out, with my mom running an electric cooler, my sister with her own, several lights on in different rooms, and my nephews watching MONSTERS INC. on the projector against the wall.  But my brother-in-law said it was me with my laptop plugged in that had drained the electricity, and voiced his displeasure about it.  Even though I try to get along with him, our relationship seems more and more strained lately, either because he's stressed all the time, my irritating ways have just about broken the camel's back, or he's just a tool.

Exercise Day: Yes (2)

*The thunder rolls, and the lightning strikes, another heart grows cold in the dead of night.

9-4

I went to sleep much, MUCH earlier than I usually do, having gotten so little sleep the night before, and getting lots of exercise during the day (paddling those oars is good arm work).  Then I woke up a bit after one, got up, and finished editing my Patreon address, and started on another chapter of the book.  When I could stand it no more, I went back to bed . . . but the children were up (and loud) at six-thirty in the morning.  Instead of lying there, hating them, I got up too, and finished editing Chapter 1 of "Arcove"--which isn't quite as pathetic as it sounds, since there are two parts of the book, wherein the numbering starts over again.  By 7:20am, I had it done, and typed this while Chapter 2 opens.

There was still no power this early in the day, the solar panels having to get an hour or so of sunlight before the batteries charged, so I took all the food from my mom's cooler and put it in my sister's, and used my laptop's battery instead of plugging it in until it reached about twenty percent.

We went out on the lake again for most of the afternoon (I had told my mom I would drive her home, and my sister's family could spend one more night here, wondering why the power runs out at seven when my computer hadn't been plugged in since four), and I got mightily sunburned.  I put sunscreen on my nose and cheeks, but my ears, forehead, arms, neck, and especially my legs were burned quite handily.  Over the next forty-eight hours, I used up half a bottle of aloe vera goo.

Once I got home, I Dropboxed two more chapters just now, bringing our fun graph to (a pathetic):

11 / 52

Exercise Day: Yes (3)

9/2

This was an extraordinarily busy day, and I'm still tired from it.  I worked, then mowed the lawn, then went to get my nephew out of school, because they emailed last night at 1:34am to tell us the calltime had been moved to one pm (from four pm).  The school secretary didn't ask my name or how I was connected to the boy, just went to the class and got him, then wanted to know details about the movie we were working on.  It's another Halmark Christmas movie, this one seemingly called THE HEART OF CHRISTMAS*, this one starring Lacey Chabert, Wes Brown, Ellen Travolta (who played the mom on, that's right, "Joanie Loves Chachi"), and Stephen Chobotsky.  It was far up in the hills nearly an hour distant, where folks have mansions bigger than anyone should, unless the resident is a U.S. congressman who enjoys hunting human beings for sport.

This was such a true 180 from the Christmas movie I worked on last year (where they wouldn't even let us stand in the shade by the "real" actors, and that poor old lady collapsed from the heat) that I wonder if there wasn't some blowback at Hallmark over it, maybe even a (well-deserved) lawsuit.  There were P.A.s running around making sure people were hydrated and cooling off, and they kept insisitng we wear light t-shirts and banana hammocks when we were not shooting, only putting on our winter garb once the camera started rolling.**

I took this picture because it looked like the reindeer were piled roadkill.  Sorry.

We shot everything in a cul de sac where all the houses were decorated for the holidays, including lights and fake snow (they had a big, industrial-sized snow-sprayer on set, that would spray jets of white chemical paste wherever they needed fake snow.  The most fun part of the shoot was the faux snowball fight we had, that we did over and over again, and got the blood really pumping every time we reset, gathered up all the snowballs (they were made of wet cotton-like material), and started again.  It was my nephew's favorite part too, even after someone hit him in the ear with a real one (they had a snow cone machine).

I have at least an hour's worth of anecdotes to share here about the day, but it's hard to know if it's worth it.  For example, there was a little black kid, around five or six, who seemed to be on the set alone (later I noticed that he had an older brother who was watching him, and as it got later, his mother showed up, with an even smaller kid, who looked--literally-two years old, yet spoke and acted like a five year old), and toward the end of the night, I heard him talking, saying that he's in the fifth grade (which makes him ten), but he's always being cast as a kindergartener or first grader.  That, to me, is fascinating (along with the idea that all of his siblings have the same . . . unique characteristic [I nearly said, "affliction," but didn't mean it in a rude way], which Emmanuel Lewis and Gary Coleman could've told us all about).  To you?

There were so many attractive or semi-attractive people milling around, it was kind of remarkable.  And there were a couple of child actors that were just staggeringly beautiful, and in watching one of them, who looked like an actual angel personified, I thought, "I'll bet she'll have a really cool life," and felt warmth not only toward her, but toward all mankind.

It was a very long day, especially for an eleven year old who had never done extra work before, but the pay was good and the activities varied (they must have shot five different scenes that day, four with us in them), and the boy told people he had a good time, which I found to be a relief.  

I haven't decided whether to talk about my experience in (yet) another Outcast episode.  Let me know if you would enjoy that.

Exercise Day: No (oh, I originally considered putting "Yes," because of the exercise of being on my feet for hours and participating in a mock snowball fight, over and over.  But hey, I didn't set aside time to specifically exercise, so I'll not count today...though at the end of the month, I may wish I had)

*I think I read somewhere that movies with "X-mas" in the title got streamed 2.3 times more than the movies without it, so I shouldn't blame them for having such an unmemorable title (I keep forgetting what it was called whenever people ask me), even though I still do.

**Okay, part of that was a joke.  I just find the term "banana hammock" to be amusing.  Too bad you don't.  Maybe the problem isn't with me, good sir or ma'am . . . maybe it's with you.

9/1

I went up onto the top deck to do some exercise (only a mile on the bike, but like writing, every little bit is SOMETHING), and while I was peddling, I heard a beeping sound, coming from somewhere.  It sounded like the noise your vehicle makes when the door is open, or the beep of a smoke detector when the batteries are almost dead.  But I couldn't figure out where it was coming from.  I went back inside, and it wasn't here, so I put my shoes on (and me pants, lest I fergit), and wandered around outside, hearing the beeping only when the wind died down enough for it to carry to me.  

Turned out, after quite a bit of wandering, that it was coming from inside the motorhome on the other side of the road, in a property where a family is one day going to build a cabin, but right now, just brings RVs.  It was a beeping, like an alarm clock or something, but it was inside, and I didn't try the door.  

On the walk back to the cabin (time to edit another "Arcove" chapter, kids), I tried to imagine what kind of story that could inspire--someone hearing a sound where there's no people, and going to investigate.  

Or, what if you were walking along in the wilderness, and you started to hear music somewhere.  "What's that?"  You walk a few steps, and think, "Is that Hotel California?"  And you keep looking, and find a car down an embankment or half-buried in a mudslide, and its radio is still broadcasting.  And then . . . ?

I have gotten two chapters entirely edited (finishing out the first section of the book--there are two, though the second is three times the size of the first), and just opened a third.  I also grabbed the recording of my Patreon address and the next Outcast episode, so I can edit on those too, when I get restless.  I also thought I'd finish the video I started last night, and maybe record a story from that book of old British ghost stories.  Cool, except . . . now the sun is already lowering in the sky.  Somehow, the day is nearly done.  And I need to get home fairly early, so I can make sure I know what tomorrow's shooting schedule will be like, and can gather appropriate winter clothes not just for me, but for my nephew as well.  Okay, well, I'll give myself twenty more minutes, then I'll pack up.  Early, yes, but hey.

I set the crazy goal of exercising 25 days in the month of September, so I'll try to keep track of it here.

Exercise Day: Yes (1)