Slightly Off the Mark
 
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in ozma914's InsaneJournal:

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    Saturday, January 28th, 2012
    5:46 pm
    25,000 -- time for a car chase

    25,000 words done on the first draft of my Storm Chaser sequel! There's still much work to do, but I'm ahead of my 5,000 words a week goal, for now. Still mulling over the title; Storm Damage isn't terrible, but it's been done. Now that I've gotten to know his character better, I'm considering "The Notorious Ian Grant".

    Friday, January 27th, 2012
    1:39 am
    Writing Fact vs. Fiction
    SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

     

                This winter I switched writing modes from fiction to non-fiction and back again, which made me ponder the difference between the two. In a way it’s something I do every week, since I write news articles in addition to my column. News is news, but my columns … well, granted that they sometimes have news in them. Still, they’re intended to be humor or opinion, or both.

                The great thing about a column is that even when you’re telling a true story, you can embellish just a bit. For instance, my lawn mower really did explode; but does anyone actually believe the Great Exploding Lawnmower Incident led to a FEMA investigation and the discovery of a broken mower blade in the fuselage of a 747?

                If I’d written that as fact, I’d have probably been hired by the White House Press Office.

                I slowed down promotion efforts for my novel some (but not enough that I won’t remind you about the January 30th book singing) so I could finish the text for my non-fiction book, tentatively titled Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights: A Century or So With the Albion Fire Department.

                Catchy, huh? No?

                So the question is, what’s easier to write? Fiction or non-fiction?

                That’s easy. With fiction, you can lie.

                Not that people haven’t fibbed in non-fiction works. It’s also true that real life creeps into fiction, from time to time. In Storm Chaser, the main character is made up, but he’s a member of two actual organizations, one police and one firefighting. Many of the scenes take place at real locations, such as Chain O’ Lakes State Park.

                Still, real life has challenges that fiction doesn’t. If my story isn’t working, I can change the order of scenes, stick in a new character, or bring in an evil twin. If I don’t like the way things happened in Albion in 1930, I’m pretty much stuck with that sequence of events.

                Also, facts can be hard to come by when writing an historical book. I recently discovered, after some 20 years of researching, that Albion’s first fire chief lived on West Main Street. Exactly where? Don’t know. What did he look like? Don’t know. What was his personality like? Beats me.

                I invented Chance Hamlin for Storm Chaser. He lives at the end of Prickett Street in a little village called Hurricane; he’s a tall, blond haired, blue eyed guy; and he’s kind of a jerk, although for good reason. Pretty much the opposite of me.

                So yeah, fiction is easier, with one exception. What if I wrote a novel about A.J. Denlar, Albion’s first fire chief? I could turn him into a living, breathing person. If I’m wrong about his personality … who’s going to know?

                Oh, but historical novels have their own danger. You have to do an insane amount of research, and get every detail right. Would Albion have telegraphed for help during a fire? What would Denlar have worn? How did the people of 1888 power their video game systems? Many people who love historical novels love history, and believe me, if you screw something up they’ll call you out on it.

                That’s also a problem in non-fiction, of course, and therein lays the danger of writing my book SDaSL: ACosWTAFD.

                Um, maybe I should skip the subtitle.

                I may not have to worry about vocabulary or dress so much, but I still had to figure out what actually went on, and sometimes that wasn’t easy. There’s a tendency of newspaper writers to assume their readers know certain things – they write for the present reader, not the future reader. It was true with official records, too: Not much detail. Even right up to 1988, where I stopped the narrative (gotta leave room for a sequel), I sometimes didn’t have all the information I was looking for.

                If I get the date that the 1929 fire engine arrived in Albion wrong, it’s not likely I’ll get caught; but if I screw up the details of the 1976 truck’s purchase, somebody’s bound to call me on it. To make matters worse, I didn’t interview any of the people who may have remembered something from half a century ago, both because I ran out of time and because I hate conducting interviews. Okay, what I mean to say is I ran out of time because I put off doing interviews. Besides, the manuscript length hit 45,000 words, which is short for a book – but had two zeroes more than I originally planned, when I started 25 years ago. Once you figure in photos, I didn’t have much space left for quotes.

                So I researched as best I could, surmised and guestimated on the old time stuff, and I think I’ll be okay for at least the first fifty or sixty years. Hopefully my status as amateur historian will bring me some forgiveness of any mistakes, but I have to admit it’s a scary thing.

                I mean, you’re writing about people who actually existed, and some still do. I don’t care to dive into personalities – I’m just in it for the fun of discovering history – but it’s scary. Suppose I get beaten up? They don’t sell angry reader insurance; I checked. Still, I’m going ahead: Finishing the manuscript, looking for more old photos, getting set to publish.

                Yeah, fiction just isn’t this scary. I’m not likely to get chased down by Tom Sawyer, or even James Bond.

                Although with Bond, you can never tell.
    Tuesday, January 24th, 2012
    10:51 pm
    It's all about publicity

    My Noble County Library book signing on Jan. 30th was announced on Thunder Country, a radio station in LaGrange County.  (Their website’s at http://www.wthd.net/ )  I sent a press release out to all the area news outlets, but didn’t really expect a station in the next county would use it!

     Also, as we were passing the library last night Emily noticed my name on their sign, which blows my mind just a bit.  Their website is here:  http://www.nobleco.lib.in.us/central_library.html .

    And, of course, the Facebook events page with all the details is here:

    https://www.facebook.com/?ref=tn_tnmn#!/events/133555793426698/

    Saturday, January 21st, 2012
    1:07 am
    column: 20 Years of Communicating
    SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK



    In December I hit a major milestone: My 20th anniversary as a member of the Noble County Sheriff’s Department.


    Doesn’t seem possible, does it? I mean, I seem so young and fresh …


    I’ve often joked that anyone who works for more than ten years in a dispatch center should automatically be considered certifiably insane. Since then I’ve learned that the average career length for a dispatcher is around seven years – which means my joke isn’t so funny anymore, is it?


    But I didn’t start as a communications officer (I didn’t make that term up, honest). I was working a factory job when I got the call to come in and apply for a job as a jail officer, known back then as a jailer or turnkey. I took a $1.22 an hour pay cut in order to put on a uniform and watch drunks throw up – clearly, I really hated working in the factory.


    At the time the jail officers often worked alone, while up in the communications department one dispatcher worked many of the shifts. It got awfully lonely, especially when a transport came in with a load of new prisoners, or police broke up a minor consuming party. All of the sudden I was the only uniform in a sea of people waiting to be booked in, dressed down, and placed near a bathroom.


    There were two things about inmates that surprised me: One was that some of them, once removed from temptation, became some of the most decent, and in the case of trustees hard working, people you’d ever want to meet.


    The other was that a certain percentage of them were just nasty pieces of uncaring scum, and absolutely no act of kindness or second chances did a darn thing to change that. When those people got booked out (you could usually tell which was which), I’d say, “See you soon.”


    “I’m never coming back here again,” they’d reply.


    But, with the exception of those who died or got put away in some other facility, they always did. Sadly, so did a lot of the nice guys who, once out on their own, just couldn’t stay away from the booze and drugs.


    Eventually I got tired of being breathed on by people who often never saw a doctor except when incarcerated, so I applied to move into dispatch. I don’t recall how long I lasted in the jail, but I figured dispatch, where I didn’t have to go face to face with people who were just misunderstood (ask them, they’ll tell you), had to be less stressful.


    Stop laughing, I really thought that.


    How can I explain what dispatching is like? Let’s say you want to be a performer, so you learn to juggle chain saws. But that’s not good enough for today’s sophisticated audiences, so you also learn how to balance 100 spinning plates at the same time. But that’s not getting you booked, so you learn how to throw knives at a spinning target while singing The Star Spangled Banner.


    Dispatching is like doing all those simultaneously.


    Not for the whole shift, of course. Anyone who’s ever worked retail is familiar with the concept of feast or famine. Say you’re at a grocery store, and shoppers start trickling in, one after another, at different times and getting different amounts of stuff.


    Then they all want to check out at the same time.

    Then they finish checking out, and there’s no one in the store … until people start trickling in again, one after another. That’s what being an emergency dispatcher is like: Feast or famine. Dispatch centers could save a lot of money by scheduling extra people only during the busy period – except no one ever knows then the busy periods will be. I’ve seen quite Friday evenings (although not many of them), and I’ve seen all heck break loose at 5 a.m.


    Once I was working alone in dispatch (These days we’re so much busier that one dispatcher is a laughable, terrifying concept), when, at around 5:30 in the morning, black ice started forming on pavement all over the county. You might say all the drivers crossing all the bridges in the county decided to check out at the same time, some of them coming close to checking out in the fatal sense of the word.


    No warning. No chance to call in help. I went from nothing on the board to three dozen accidents in ten minutes. Another example of that is when one giant fiery crash happens and you have to dispatch half a dozen different agencies to it at the same time.

    It was fun. By which I mean, it wasn’t.


    But at least with calls like that what you need to do is pretty clear cut. Here are some examples of the calls that make my head start throbbing:


    Someone calls 911 and starts with, “This isn’t an emergency …”

    It’s an emergency line, bub.


    “I have a question …”


    I have an answer, but you’re not going to like it. This person invariably will involve us in such a head scratcher that’ll take off pieces of my scalp.


    “I had this problem back in December of 1998, and …”

    We really do get calls like that. These are people who, if they were writing a book, would start out with “Chapter One: I am born.” You couldn’t get them to the point with a spear gun.


    There are other examples, but I can’t give you specifics until the book comes out on the day of my retirement, December 14th, 2016. This is assuming I can gather a single sane thought by then.


    It’ll be hard to autograph that book while in a straightjacket.
    Tuesday, January 17th, 2012
    3:00 pm
    My Funny Valentine -- the perfect holiday present

    A local columnist is one of forty humor writers featured in My Funny Valentine, the perfect antidote to the problem of both wintertime blues and finding a perfect and unique Valentine’s Day gift.

     

    Mark R. Hunter’s column “Valentine Fail, or: Where to Sleep When You Don’t Own a Doghouse”, originally appeared in The Albion New Era, Churubusco News, and Northwest News last year, and is reprinted in My Funny Valentine along with pieces by columnists, bloggers, and cartoonists from all over. The book makes a great Valentine’s gift: It doesn’t go bad in a week like flowers, has no calories like candy, and at $9.95 (plus tax) is way less expensive than jewelry – and will probably be more appreciated than lingerie. Plus, a little humor goes a long way in the dark, cold months of winter.

     

    My Funny Valentine is available as a print book at Hunter’s website, www.MarkRHunter.com,  and in print or e-book at the publisher’s website, http://myfunnybooks.biz/

     

    Hunter will also have copies available at a book signing January 30th, from 3:30 p.m. – 6 p.m. at the Noble County Public Library main branch, 813 E. Main Street in Albion. Anyone who buys both it and Hunter’s novel, Storm Chaser, will get the second book at two dollars off.

     

    Print copies are also available at the Albion New Era office, on South Orange Street in Albion.

     

     

     

    More on My Funny Valentine:

     

                Love is to laugh with, not at, in this anthology of Vday humor from forty of the top

    humor writers around. An inexpensive, pocket-sized book focused on Valentine giving

    and lightening-up, My Funny Valentine is a condensed packet of laughs and smiles.

     

                This is the first offering from My Funny Books, a new imprint dedicated to showcasing the country’s top humor writers. The writers here are contest winners, syndicated columnists, book authors, working comediennes, writers and producers for television shows, joke-mongers for famous comics, and beloved cartoonists. Some quotes:

     

    I don’t need a special day to be awkward, uncomfortable and falsely selfless. That’s what dating was for. – Blythe Jewell

     

                We lovingly refer to it as Valentine’s Day because "Sex for Chocolate Day" was vetoed by the greeting card industry. – Leigh Anne Jasheway

     

    Valentine’s Day is about those five little words: Charge it to my Visa. – Jim Shea

     

    Yeah, so, I missed Valentine’s Day this year. On a totally unrelated note I’ve discovered it’s possible, and even advisable, to sleep in today’s smaller, more fuel efficient cars. – Mark R Hunter

     

     

    Thursday, January 12th, 2012
    3:50 am
    column: Ringing in a Dark Birthday
    SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

     

                There are certain questions guaranteed – absolutely guaranteed – to cause trouble: “What else could go wrong?” “What does this do?” “Why don’t we invade Russia?”

                I planned to cook my fiancée a birthday dinner. My question:

                “How hard could it be?”

                Emily didn’t try to stop me, so in my mind she’s at least partially responsible. The plan was simple: I would take one room in the house and clean it to within an inch of its life, and there we would have a romantic, candlelit dinner to celebrate her birthday, which happens to fall on December 21st. As that’s normally the shortest day of the year and the first day of winter, before I met her it was traditionally my day of mourning.

                This year the world is scheduled to end on that date, so you’d better believe I’m just going to take her out to an expensive restaurant. According to the Mayans, the VISA bill won’t arrive next January.

                This year the normal “what could go wrong?” festivities began three weeks earlier, when I got sick – as is also a tradition for me in December. Then she got sick. Then I got new medicine, which cleared up the original problem but made me sicker. Then she was put on an antibiotic that actually has the word “nitro” in the title, a warning sign if I ever heard one, and it made her sicker.

    To make matter worse, she’d ordered something special for me that didn’t arrive in time for an earlier anniversary of our relationship, so when it arrived she began agonizing over when to give it to me.

    It was under these circumstances that we entered the week of her birthday, so I threw caution to the wind and suggested we just go out to eat.

                She refused, citing money issues. See why I love her so? Ordinarily I could be nothing but thankful to have someone who doesn’t want to spend money, but I was seeing the big picture: I owed her a meal, and I cook about as well as I do car maintenance – usually with the same disastrous results.

                The next day, while still trying to talk her into it, I took my car to my son-in-law so he could change the oil (see above about car maintenance). As I sat inside, pretending to play with my grandsons while actually nursing a massive headache, he came in with the same look I get whenever someone says “snowstorm”: “You need to see something,” he intoned.

                The tread was coming off my tire. Just … peeling off. Like it was something I’d glued on. “How far can I drive on this?” I asked.

                “Across town. To the tire place.”

                So I gave up hopes of taking Emily out to dinner, or of sneaking take-out into the house, and settled on … cooking. Also, I needed to make a cake. And, because we’d both been so sick for so long (being sick together isn’t nearly as romantic as they make it sound in Hollywood), a room still had to be cleaned.

                And that’s when I said it: “I have a day, extra-strength ibuprofen, and antibiotics … how hard could it be?”

                I’d never made salmon before. Or deep fried anything. Or made a cake. And once I got into the nook and crannies of the kitchen, I got to thinking I’d never cleaned it before, either.

                No, it didn’t turn out to be the perfect birthday for her. I mean … it’s me. Although I managed the cake myself, she had to help me figure out the salmon (thank you, George Foreman) and the frying. In addition, she didn’t want to wait on that present for me – so I got a gift that day, too.

                Still, we did have our candlelight dinner – for some reason I have thousands of candles packed away in the basement – and the kitchen (we didn’t have the energy to move our table into the dining room) looked pretty good if you squinted in the candlelight. I also learned a few lessons along the way:

                Red velvet cake resembles something bloody at every step of the process. For awhile my kitchen looked like the lair of a serial killer.

                Fish can taste pretty good even without breading. Why was I never told?

                Other than food, no good can come from a pan of boiling grease.

                Overall, despite our high level of physical misery and the fact that the act of eating exhausted us to the point of collapse, we had a pretty good time. After recovering she left the room, and returned with something behind her back. I don’t recall her exact words, as I really wasn’t expecting this, but I’ll paraphrase.

                “I wanted to get you the Moon and the stars and the universe and everything … so I did.” Then she got down on one knee and held out a ring. “Will you marry me?”

                We’d been shopping for wedding rings, so she knew my size, and she knew we were both huge astronomy fans. She presented me with one carved – literally – from a meteorite. It was so much cooler than the engagement ring I gave her.

                Naturally, I said yes.

                What could go wrong? Lots. But that doesn’t mean things don’t go right.
    Tuesday, January 10th, 2012
    1:14 am
    Writerly day from the Post Office
    I got two shipments in the mail today: A box of Storm Chaser copies and a box of My Funny Valentine copies. Pretty much the most important items for the January 30 book signing.

     

    My Funny Valentine is selling for $9.95 plus tax, while Storm Chaser is $14.95 – or $12.95 if you buy them both together. Come to the book signing or contact me for an order (www.markrhunter.com), or get the e-book version of My Funny Valentine at:

     


    Monday, January 9th, 2012
    3:07 am
    10,000 writing updates
    Hit the 10,000 words on the sequel! Of course, this is just the rough draft: There’s nothing to say I won’t decide half those words are junk and throw them out later. On the other hand, some areas are a little sparse on detail: I wrote half a page of just dialogue during … well, I won’t say during what. I’ll go back to fill more in later, and also to cut out some, so it’s likely to be a wash.

    The horse stays. I’m second guessing the title, though …
    Friday, January 6th, 2012
    4:28 am
    column: Counseling Future Councils
    SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

     

                    I retired from my position on the Albion Town Council at the end of the year, giving me a chance to move to a warmer climate and live a relaxed life of peaceful …

                    Oh, who am I kidding? I got fired by six votes, and I’m not going anywhere.

                    Perhaps some of my fourteen regular readers are thinking, “Mark, what accomplishments do you have to show for your eight years in office?” good question, all fourteen of you.

                    The answer: Nothin’.

                    No one person accomplishes anything on a Council. Certainly no one person gets full credit for any kind of major project in a small town. Leave the bragging about what “I” did to Presidential politics.

    Unlike many state and federal offices, a small town council doesn’t compensate enough to make it something you do for money or power. A few candidates might come in with an ax to grind, but most do it because of their vision for the town, whether that vision is a thriving community looking toward the future, or turning the clock back to a sleepy little town of the 50’s.

    I’m happy to say that none of the Council members of the last several years were stuck in the 50’s. They understand the challenges of growth and change; not one was ever complacent, and not one ever played favorites at the expense of the town. They were open to communication and fresh ideas, business friendly, and financially responsible. If they stay that way, Albion will be ready for success when and if the economy improves.

    Also, none of them ever put any tacks on my Council chair, which I appreciate.

    Oh, there’s a lot I’m proud of; there’s just nothing I can point to that I did alone, and that’s as it should be. So instead of extolling the wonderfulness that is me, I’d like to pass on some of the things I’ve learned from the job, and give some advice to community representatives of the future.

    First, the wheels grind slowly. Usually there’s not a darn thing you can do about it, and usually it works out for the best. No matter how certain you are as to the best direction, take the time to sit back and study all the factors and alternatives.

    The state and federal governments control a great deal of what you do, and there’s not much you can do about that, either. They’ll assume they know what should happen in your little town better than you do – especially the feds. Every attempt they make to gather strings of control and money should be resisted with all your energy, but the strings they already have are pretty firmly in their grasp.

    Luckily a cadre of people gathers at coffee shops, restaurants and other points across town to happily solve all the world’s problems, including yours, while informing each other of why you’re doing it wrong. They seldom tell you that to your face, of course. They’re called armchair quarterbacks, although most never take the snap and carry the ball a few yards themselves.

    Nor will many bother to come to meetings, talk to Council members or the Town Manager, or otherwise educate themselves on how things work. They’ll just complain. Complaining is the natural disposition of the human race, and is usually pretty harmless until someone’s complaint turns into a rumor that, by the time it reaches the other side of town, becomes the gospel truth. You can’t do anything about it. Well, you could spread rumors about them, but this isn’t fifth grade.

    If one person comes in who does have a legitimate complain, chances are there are dozens more who have the same complaint. Don’t blow it off because no one seems interested.

    On the other hand, be cautious of judging the opinion of everyone in down based on what one or two individuals say. Just as with national politics, the people who make the most noise at the local level are often – not always – on one extreme or another. They may be the “not in my back yard” types who are concerned only with themselves (not that they’re always wrong), or skilled crap stirrers who delight in causing hate and discontent, regardless of what excuse they come up with to do it.

    The crap stirrers are also sometimes right – in fact, nothing makes them happier than to stumble upon an area in which they’re technically correct, then drive it like a stake into the spirits of everyone around them. They don’t really care about being right – they just love knowing that they can’t be ignored.

    Remember, your job is to do what’s correct for the town, as long as it doesn’t stamp on individual rights any more than absolutely necessary. Don’t screw up the entire community for the sake of one complainer, but don’t use the common good as an excuse to bury someone you don’t like. Nobody said it would be easy.

    Your job is to be a steward of town’s resources: That means not only knowing when not to spend money, but knowing when to spend it wisely. Don’t be short-term cheap, only to have something cost more down the road. Don’t throw money at something just because it looks good; that’s what the federal government is for.

    Trust your department heads, and if you don’t trust them you’d better figure out why. Albion’s utility workers can take three wire clothes hangers and make a spaceship. Our Park people are the hardest working folks in the business. Our cops and firefighters are on the line at all hours. Our administrative people face a blizzard of unfunded mandates and regulations every day. Don’t skimp on educating yourselves: Understand what they do, and why they do it.

    Above all, remember that you work for the town, not the other way around. Any community that doesn’t grow, adapt and prepare is doomed to shrink and die – you make the difference between being stuck in the 20th Century and leading into the 21st.

    As for me, well, I’ve got books to write – but I’ll be around.
    Thursday, January 5th, 2012
    12:35 am
    The Press Release for my January 30 book signing
    A book signing featuring local author Mark R. Hunter will be held at the Noble County Public Library main branch Monday, January 30th, from 3:30 p.m. to 6 p.m.

    Hunter’s romantic comedy, Storm Chaser, was released last year by Whiskey Creek Press. In addition, he’ll have available copies of the humor compilation My Funny Valentine, just in time for Valentine’s Day gift buying. My Funny Valentine includes a holiday related column by Hunter that originally appeared in the Albion New Era, Churubusco News, and Northwest News, as well as humor pieces and cartoons by thirty-nine other humorists from all over.
     
    Anyone who hasn't bought Storm Chaser (or has, but wants another copy!) can get both books for a bargain: buy My Funny Valentine at $9.95, and get Storm Chaser for two dollars off, at $12.95. Hunter, a longtime local humor columnist who has a collection of short stories coming out in May, will answer any questions in addition to signing books at the library, located at 813 E. Main Street in Albion. He’s also a member of the Albion Volunteer Fire Department, and is working on a history of that organization.

    More details about Storm Chaser are here:

    While details about My Funny Valentine can be found here:

                The Facebook events page for the library book signing is here:


     
    More on Storm Chaser, by Mark R. Hunter:
    The black funnel of an approaching tornado makes all other troubles seem small. But when Indiana State Trooper Chance Hamlin “rescues” Allie Craine from a twister, his troubles are just beginning—Allie, a disaster photographer, rescues him when he drives into the storm’s path.

    Chance doesn’t like being rescued, he doesn’t like photographers, and he definitely doesn’t like being stuck with Allie when she wants to stay in calm, peaceful Indiana. Too bad his family, friends, and even the other members of Chance’s volunteer fire department think she’s great. Suspicious of Allie’s motives, he decides to drive her away out of sheer boredom—but that’s not so easy when someone begins causing fires and other catastrophes around the area. That someone might be Allie, who has plans of her own...


                More on My Funny Valentine:

    The pieces in My Funny Valentine might be warm fuzzies, or cynical snaps, historical enlightenment, or satiric spinouts, or behavioral field notes of Love in our times, but they have one thing in common: they’ll make you laugh. This is one anthology that goes beyond “bathroom reading”: it doesn’t shy from being wrapped in lace, flowers and murmurs to give to loved ones. It’s not a box of chocolates: but it’ll last longer.

    Funny Books’ contributors are syndicated columnists, TV and comedy writers, and winners of the top humor awards. Coming together in special collections that poke a funny bone in the ribs of topics, issues and cultural icons you might not have thought of as humorous before reading these assortments of chortle mongers and guffaw greats.
    Tuesday, January 3rd, 2012
    1:43 am
    Storm Damage ... begun.
    <input ... ><input ... ><input ... ><input ... ><input ... ><input ... >
    I’m 2,011 words into the rough draft of “Storm Damage” – wait, let me type in one – yay, 2,012 for 2012! The plan is to shoot for 5,000 words a week, in the hopes of having the rough draft done by the end of March. We’ll see … things happen.


    Much as I try to plan ahead, I’m sometimes slowed at the beginning by little unanticipated research jobs: So far in Chapter One I’ve looked up how a horse rider helps a second person on (on the horse, I mean), what kind of vehicle a Congressman might drive, how many half-brothers Allie Craine has (you’d think I’d remember that), and the drive time between California and Indiana. But researching is part of the fun (although it’s perfectly okay to put it off until later, if you’re on a roll).


    I’ll keep everyone updated on my status and post a line from time to time …meanwhile, if you want to see the sequel make sure to tell all your friends the original is still available! Oh, and if I seem like I’m in another world for the next few months … it’s because I am.


    Friday, December 30th, 2011
    6:06 am
    Storm Chaser reviews
    More reviews of Storm Chaser:



    The book now has eleven 5-star and one 4-star reviews on Amazon, three 5-star reviews on Barnes & Noble, and on Fictionwise.com it has one Great rating and one OK rating. But the OK guy was just jealous. That's my story.

    My Funny Valentine now has six five-star reviews on Amazon -- and needless to say, you can get signed copies of either book through me!
    www.markrhunter.com
    Thursday, December 29th, 2011
    5:49 am
    2011: On an Off Year
    SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

     

                Whew. Was 2011 an exhausting year, or what? It felt like the whole world spent the last twelve months running a marathon at internet speed. No wonder my feet hurt.

                It may turn out to be something of a watershed year for me, as I accomplished one of my life’s biggest goals. No, I didn’t get into Bill Gates’ will. No, I didn’t get the word “snow” banished from the dictionary. No, I didn’t win a lifetime supply of chocolate: I got that first novel published.

    Just about everything else went wrong for me, which I suppose was karma balancing the scales. I don’t appreciate that, karma. But considering the rest of the world, it’s hard to complain.

                Let’s take a look at some of the events of 2011. Why? Well, everyone else is doing it.

                Lots of bad things happened, of course. Osama bin Laden and that guy in Libya who couldn’t figure out how to spell his name were killed. Bad things happened, too.

                I prefer not to focus on the bad things, or at least not the bad things I can’t make fun of. Iran trying to get nukes? Just not funny. An overspending Federal government heading over a cliff? Not funny. The entire world coming to a standstill so a Prince can get married in England? I could make fun of that all day.

                But then, William and Kate made a happy couple – he clearly got his looks from his mother – so it’s all good. I hear the celebration was so huge that they donated the leftover reception food to the hungry in Africa. All the hungry.

                President Obama released his birth certificate, a mere three years after the controversy over where he was born began. Some wonder whether the White House purchase of printer’s ink, special green paper and the employment of “Guido, artist from Chicago” three days previous might not be a coincidence. Still, most are now satisfied that Obama was merely ashamed, since the certificate revealed his given name to be “Newt Mitt Bachmann Obama”.

                The Libyan protests that downed a dictatorship upped gas prices by 20%. When Canada offered to fill up America’s tank, President Obama said “No thanks – I think we can make it to the next exit.”

                Rupert Murdoch shut down his News of the World publication after allegations of phone hacking by the newspaper. Most of the paper’s employees had already found other jobs, having heard Murdoch’s plans over his phone.

                The U.S. credit rating was downgraded for the first time ever, after Congress voted to raise the debt ceiling. In response to the possibility that borrowing costs will rise and the economy might be damaged by government overspending, Congress voted to study the problem by funding a Super Committee. Stocks rose for a company in Virginia that manufactures money printing presses.

                (Okay, so I can make fun of that.)

                Occupy Wall Street attempted to occupy Wall Street – thus the name – to protest … something. Many were dissatisfied that they were dissatisfied, and vowed to struggle on until everyone else was dissatisfied, too.

                Overall the stock market bounced up and down quite a bit, depressed by the economy but buoyed upward when Wall Street traders stopped using the dollar and began trading Monopoly money.

                Plans for Washington lobbyists to stop paying politicians in cash, and start trading services instead, stalled when they realized cash was the only service lobbyists offered.

                The World population reached 7 billion, prompting fears of immediate worldwide calamity by people who said the same thing when it reached 6 billion. American politicians laughed at the paltry number, while the 7 billionth baby received over 76 million birthday cards and a special coupon for half off at Toys R’ Us.

                An American probe became the first spacecraft to leave the solar system, and told its handlers it wouldn’t come back until after the 2012 election.

                Oprah and Regis left their long running TV shows, prompting some network executives to jump from high rise windows. Meanwhile, Larry King left his own long running CNN program after revelations that through the entire previous three seasons he’d been dead.

                For the first time, the number of Republicans running for their party’s Presidential nomination reached the triple digits; at one point the U.S. Congress had to shut down for the day because so many members were on the campaign trail that they couldn’t reach a quorum. This resulted in an embarrassing moment during early Iowa polling, when so many candidates were running that each received exactly one vote.

                As a result of 2012 election campaigning, which began in 2010, the 2011 off-year elections went unnoticed. Voter turnout in some precincts hit the minuses, a statistical impossibility that pollsters blamed on extreme electorate indigestion.

                Yeah, so that’s about it. That popping sound you’ve been hearing all autumn were Republican presidential candidates imploding, so now you know what the noise will be once primary season starts. I predict 2012 will be a very interesting year for politics, which is another way of saying a very bad year for the rest of us.

                But at least it’ll give me something to write about.

               
    Wednesday, December 28th, 2011
    2:11 am
    Storm Chaser and My Funny Valentine ... for the e-reader you love
    Get a new e-reader for Christmas? Sure you did. Time to fill it, and why not start with an action-adventure-romantic comedy-mystery? That way you have a lot of the genres covered, right from the beginning. And if you’re old fashioned like me, you’re still going to need something to read in the dead of winter.

     

    Storm Chaser is available at:

     


     


    (And Amazon UK)

     


     


     

    And of course through my own website: http://markrhunter.com/novel.html. There you can also order a print copy, if you’re not close enough to pick one up at the Albion New Era or Just Off the Square in Albion, the Churubusco News in that town, Summer’s Stories in Kendallville, Freedom Acres in Cromwell, or The Bookmark in Fort Wayne.

     

    Copies will be available at a book signing Monday, January 30th, from 3:30 – 6 p.m. at the Noble County Public Library main branch in Albion.

     

    And don’t forget about Mark Hunter’s contribution to the humor compilation My Funny Valentine, the perfect companion book to bring a few smiles in the dead of winter:

     



     

    More on Storm Chaser, by Mark R. Hunter:

     

    The black funnel of an approaching tornado makes all other troubles seem small. But when Indiana State Trooper Chance Hamlin “rescues” Allie Craine from a twister, his troubles are just beginning—Allie, a disaster photographer, rescues him when he drives into the storm’s path.

     

    Chance doesn’t like being rescued, he doesn’t like photographers, and he definitely doesn’t like being stuck with Allie when she wants to stay in calm, peaceful Indiana. Too bad his family, friends, and even the other members of Chance’s volunteer fire department think she’s great. Suspicious of Allie’s motives, he decides to drive her away out of sheer boredom—but that’s not so easy when someone begins causing fires and other catastrophes around the area. That someone might be Allie, who has plans of her own...
    Sunday, December 25th, 2011
    12:39 am
    Keeping Christmas Fake
    Merry Christmas, everyone!

     

    This article originally appeared in the insert of this week’s Albion New Era newspaper:

    When I was a kid, we had a fake Christmas tree that no one bothered even pretending might be real.

                It was an aluminum pole with holes in it, like a great silver stick. We’d take the arrow-straight branches out of their paper tubes, fluff out the bright, unnaturally green “needles” of shredded aluminum, and stick them in the holes. Then we’d hang ornaments: Plain balls and bells of difference sizes. Multi-colored lights went on, as did, naturally, tinsel.

                I had no idea we were part of a fad that started in 1958, when the Aluminum Specialty Company launched this idea of selling “Permanent Trees” – a fad that faded out at about the same time I discovered the truth about Santa. Ours was a totally artificial bright green; my grandmother’s was white. Not white as in covered with artificial snow – all white.

                We also had a cardboard fireplace, unfolded from its box in all its painted brick glory. Santa could have flattened the thing with one strand of white beard.

                We knew it wasn’t real: Santa was magic. No further explanation was necessary.

                After that we’d set up the color wheel. It rotated slowly, passing in front of a bright floodlight, bathing the living room in red, yellow, green, and blue.

                Imagine being entertained by that, at a time when ad companies throw down million dollar digital effects to sell us car insurance.

                It was the fakest Christmas ever.

                It was the most real Christmas ever.

    In 1965 A Charlie Brown Christmas came along to poke fun at the fake looking tree trend, effectively killing it. These days you can get trees that look so real you can’t leave them outside, for fear a beaver will get plastic poisoning trying to eat one. They have everything but the pine smell – but then, there are candles for that.

                You can get designer ornaments of every design (which explains the name, doesn’t it?), lights that blink out the tune of your favorite pop Christmas carol and also blind overhead airline pilots, and a blow-up Santa to stalk across your roof. Designer Christmas decorations. In every store, aisles of stuff that uses the term “décor”.

    But does anyone take the time to look?

                At our holiday gatherings kids got underfoot in the same room where the adults traded stories of their good old days. Nobody retreated into the spare bedroom to check their e-mails, and nobody got caught texting under the table. Even when the football game came on, people kept talking to each other. Our lack of modern communications led to … communication.

                The whole thing reminds me of the difference between my generation’s simple half hour How the Grinch Stole Christmas and the loud, movie length, effects laden version of a few years ago.

    I don’t mean to go all Thoreau on you, with cries of “simplify!” at a time when life becomes more and more complicated. You retreat from life at the cost of opportunity and responsibility … besides, I like my laptop. Still, it seems to me we’re putting too much emphasis on making Christmas look fancy, and not enough on it being real. Can’t we find a little time, especially in this season, to step back and slow down? After all, the origins of Christmas are the simplest story of all: A couple, a baby, and a promise.

                Why are you competing with the guy next door, who had to haul in a generator to run so many lights they melt all the snow for two blocks around? Do you enjoy decorating and getting everything ready, or is it just a big, overwhelming chore? Are your plans over the top and burning a hole in your pocket? Does December 26th involve self-medicating?

                Well then, just do what makes you happy. You might be surprised how much your kids appreciate not having Martha Stewart parents. Stop making your Christmas realistic, and start making it real.

                Maybe you could even haul out a color wheel.
    Saturday, December 24th, 2011
    3:01 am
    question about My Funny Valentine -- a book for the *next* holiday
    I have a book signing coming up January 30th at the Noble County Public Library main branch (you heard it here almost first!) so I have a decision to make: How many copies of “my” new book should I have on hand?

     

    Truth in advertising: It’s not just mine – it’s a compilation of Valentine’s related pieces by columnists, bloggers, and cartoonists from all over:

     


     

                My Valentine’s Day column “Valentine Fail, or: Where to Sleep When You Don’t Own a Doghouse”, originally appeared in The Albion New Era in February, and is reprinted in My Funny Valentine along with items from 40 humorists. This book should make a great Valentine’s gift: It doesn’t go bad in a week like flowers, has no calories like candy, and at $9.95 (plus tax) is way less expensive than jewelry – and will probably be more appreciated than lingerie. Plus, a little humor goes a long way in the dark, cold months of winter.

     

                My question to you, the fan, is: How many of you might be interested in an autographed copy from me? Keep in mind, it would only be my autograph – not that of any other contributor! Although the book is available at a lower price as an e-book, it was meant as more of a gift item. You can buy it directly or learn more about it here:


     

                I’ll definitely have some available at my next book signing, and I’m even offering a deal: Anyone who buys a copy can also pick up Storm Chaser at a reduced price, $12.95. This is assuming you don’t already have Storm Chaser – or that you want to give that out as a gift, too. Let me know if you’re interested in a copy of the new work, and here’s a bit more about My Funny Valentine:

     

     

                Love is to laugh with, not at, in this anthology of Vday humor from forty of the top humor writers around. An inexpensive, pocket-sized book focused on Valentine giving

    and lightening-up, My Funny Valentine is a condensed packet of laughs and smiles.

     

                This is the first offering from My Funny Books, a new imprint dedicated to showcasing the country’s top humor writers. The writers here are contest winners, syndicated columnists, book authors, working comediennes, writers and producers for television shows, joke-mongers for famous comics, and beloved cartoonists. Some quotes:

     

    I don’t need a special day to be awkward, uncomfortable and falsely selfless. That’s what dating was for. – Blythe Jewell

     

                We lovingly refer to it as Valentine’s Day because "Sex for Chocolate Day" was vetoed by the greeting card industry. – Leigh Anne Jasheway

     

    Valentine’s Day is about those five little words: Charge it to my Visa. – Jim Shea

     

    Yeah, so, I missed Valentine’s Day this year. On a totally unrelated note I’ve discovered it’s possible, and even advisable, to sleep in today’s smaller, more fuel efficient cars. – Mark R Hunter

     
    Friday, December 23rd, 2011
    3:18 am
    column: Questionable Christmas Songs
    SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

     

                I was going to do something serious for my Christmas column this year. It’s a serious time; besides, as I write this there’s a special on Discovery about various disasters that could destroy the world.

                Way to get into the spirit, Discovery!

                But serious times are when we need to lighten up the most. That’s why all those great movie musicals were popular during the Great Depression; it might also explain the popularity of the TV show Glee, one of the most profoundly unserious shows since Gilligan’s Island even when it’s dealing with real issues. And that’s a great segue, because Glee does more song and dance numbers than a Congressional hearing, and as it happens I want to talk about Christmas songs.

                If you can’t make fun of Christmas songs, what can you make fun of? Besides, I’m still getting over this sinus infection, and searching for an easy target, so let’s take a look at some popular ones:

                “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”: I’ve mentioned this song before – I call it “Santa Stalker”. He sees you when you’re sleeping … he knows when you’re awake … he knows when you’ve been bad or good … and he’s coming to town. No doubt he’ll be bringing his equally scary pals, the Boogeyman and the IRS Agent.

                “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”: Well. At least now we know why he’s coming to town. This is on that unique list of Christmas songs that, when you really pay attention, are the equivalent of an AMC Original Series: suitable for adults only.

                “Jingle Bell Rock”: I included this out of historical interest, because it’s one of the first rock and roll Christmas songs. It seems quaint now, but at the time it was probably scandalous to the more traditional fans. If someone’s idea of a modern Christmas song was “The Hallelujah Chorus”, that guitar opening must have been a shock.

                “Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow”: See above about adult Christmas songs; this one is basically the story of a guy who’s using bad weather as an excuse to make some time with his stranded companion. Also, it doesn’t actually mention Christmas in any way, which puts it into another category: songs about Christmas that – aren’t.

                But at least it’s better than “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”, in which the guy bypasses trying to talk his girl into the sack and spikes her drink, instead. Listen to those lyrics and you’ll get never let someone else mix your drink again.

                “This Christmas”: Last Christmas she gave him her heart, and the very next day he gave it away. Wait. He gave her heart away? So … he made her fall in love with someone else? Well, you can understand the singer being a little mixed up, considering she’s spending her Christmas as a heartbroken mess.

                “The Twelve Days of Christmas”: This is one of those songs that are so old people don’t really understand what they mean anymore. (See: figgy puddings.) Your true love gave you … maids milking? French hens? Where do you even get lords leaping? Do they have to have union cards?

                But of course, the big problem with this one is that it’s twelve days long.

                “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer”: Let me break this song down for you: It’s about a bullied kid with a serious birth defect whose haters decide to like him after it turns out he has a superpower that saves the day. Okay. Why did Stan Lee never turn this into a Marvel comic? Or was Spider-Man enough?

                “Blue Christmas”: Only Elvis Presley really pulled off this iconic story of a depressed man who’s miserable all through the holidays. Probably the most down Christmas song ever, with the possible exception of “Christmas Shoes”, a song I can’t listen to all the way through to this day.

                “Christmas Dragnet”: Funniest Christmas song ever – at least, if you’re familiar with Jack Webb’s old “Dragnet” TV series. I steal the funniest line of that song for my own purposes whenever I can get away with it … and no, I’m not going to tell you what it is. If you don’t listen to the song, you’ll still believe I thought it up myself.

                “Little St. Nick.” It’s actually not a bad song, but the very idea of The Beach Boys singing about a winter holiday … you have to picture them belting it out on a beach, wearing shorts with red and green Hawaiian shirts, surrounded by bikini ladies in Santa hats. Which … now that I think on it, that’s not a bad way to spend Christmas.

                “Jingle Bells”: A nice, traditional Christmas song … except when done by the Singing Dogs. Whose bright idea was that, and what’s next? Cats screeching out “Feliz Navidad”?

                “Snoopy’s Christmas”: A flying dog engaged in a bloody fight to the death with a vicious World War 1 German ace. Merry Christmas, my friend!

                “The Chipmunk Song”: Again, whose bright idea was that? ‘Cause the guy should’ve gotten a medal for spawning an empire that’s cranking out cash to this day. I’m thinking about doing a version of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” – with helium.

                “White Christmas” and “Silent Night”: They tie for being close to the perfect Christmas songs. If you can listen to them without getting teared up and – at least inwardly – singing along, you have no heart. Maybe you gave it away Last Christmas.

                “Santa Baby”: Top on the list of inappropriate Christmas songs. To this day, Santa can’t hear any version without having to take a cold shower.

                And finally, the single most ridiculous Christmas song ever can only be:

                “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer”.

                Nothing says Christmas like a hit and run sleigh driver smearing an elderly lady across the sidewalk. Maybe Snoopy should be hired to bring Santa down?

                Makes me wish I hadn’t forgot my medication.
    Thursday, December 22nd, 2011
    12:49 am
    drugs, and other necessities of a book signing


    http://writersofmassdistraction.com/2011/12/19/drugs-and-other-necessities-of-a-book-signing/



    Near the end of my second book signing, my host produced a bottle of Tylenol from a drawer, which instantly made me think: “Ah – that’s what I forgot to bring!”

    I’ve done three signings now, none of them at a library or bookstore (the library experience comes at the end of January). They’re living proof that you can have a book signing anywhere:

    The first was at an outdoor town-wide event called First Friday, where the Courthouse square was turned into a giant monopoly board and I signed books while life sized game pieces moved around in front of me. Fifteen copies sold.

    The second was at a bed and breakfast a block from the courthouse, during the town’s annual Christmas celebration. There was room for me in the Inn, but it was also one of the places on the Christmas House Walk, which meant a constant parade of people touring the place who were puzzled to discover me and another writer at the dining room table. Eleven copies sold.

    For the third I ventured to a neighboring town, where a working farm/animal rescue facility/general store played host. It was the first place where the majority of local people didn’t know me, and it was also in a brand-new business on a county road, a mile from town limits … in the hay loft of a barn-turned gift shop. Two copies sold. A failure? No – a good experience, with great people who showed me every courtesy.

    In all three cases no one died, nothing caught fire, and I made more than I spent … not to mention I got my name out there. Every writer has a horror story about book signings. If you’re newly published, as I am, or if you haven’t published yet (hang in there!) your horror story will come.

    But if something bad is to happen, don’t let it be something you caused.

    With that in mind, let’s take a look at one thing you can control: What you bring with you. If you’re anything like me, when you finally get that printed book in your hand you’ll still be in some disbelief, and probably didn’t spend much time before then seriously considering promotion. Social networking aside, getting out there in person is still one of the best ways to push your book, so let’s be a Boy (or Girl) Scout and make sure you have everything you might need.

    I invested in two clear plastic totes: One to hold the big stuff, and a smaller one that fit inside it and contained such crass items as change. You could argue that they should be opaque, to avoid turning off readers and attracting muggers. In fact, you could argue for many additions to this list, and that’s one reason I made it: To provoke discussion over what others bring to their signings.

    Let’s take a look at my list:

    Books. Yeah, obvious, right? But authors who go to bookstores sometimes assume the stores will have plenty of copies – after all, they’re hosting you, It ain’t necessarily so; have copies of your own, and if you think you don’t need them leave them in your car trunk. Better too many than too few.

    I was convinced I wouldn’t sell many copies at my second signing – after all, it was only a block from the first, and I’d already picked the low fruit: Relatives, coworkers and friends. When I counted my 14 copies, I wasn’t at all concerned. An hour into the book signing, when I’d already passed out half of them, I started to sweat.

    A table and chairs. Your host will probably provide those: Make sure. Also, don’t sit behind the table the whole time – be prepared to stand and greet.

    Signs. My publisher sent me a small paperboard poster with the front cover of Storm Chaser, which I put on a little easel on the table. I also had two signs printed on regular paper: One basically says “get your copy here”, along with a price, while the other has a brief synopsis of the plot so I don’t have to explain it to every passerby.

    Pens. Not just one – therein lays disaster. Make it a sharp point felt type pen, which works much better for signing a book. Don’t be cheap: Writers will be expected to have good pens. The pipe and black turtleneck are optional.

    Display stand. Maybe one for your little poster and one for a copy of the book. Be visible.

    Notebook. Why? You’re a writer, man – have a notebook! You might need to jot down any number of things, from a new contact in the business, to a possibility for a new signing, to a story idea. At my first signing a woman approached me who later displayed Storm Chaser in her antique shop.

    Business cards/bookmarks. Have as much of your contact information on them as possible: At least your name and your website, and the name of your book if the material is book specific. I went with business cards.

    Giveaway stuff. Since my second and third signings were at Christmas time, I wrote a Christmas themed short story featuring some of the characters from Storm Chaser, printed it up, and handed it out. The story is set before the book – don’t spoil someone who might be interested, but hasn’t yet read the main product. More typical giveaway stuff includes cookies, mints, or little trinkets like pens that will, of course, have your information on them.

    On a related note, if you have any kind of snacks provide napkins, and maybe a few wet wipes. You don’t want the merchandise damaged.

    A bottle of water. No, don’t spike it; but be prepared to answer questions about your book and the writing process, not to mention you’ll probably have a case of dry-mouth.

    A calculator/change. My book was priced at $14.95; people kept handing me twenties. Have ones, fives and tens on hand, as well as some coins. The calculator? If you’re like me, you write because you hate to count.

    Pain reliever. I don’t do well with noise or crowds … if all goes well and I have a really successful night, I’ll need ibuprofen. If all doesn’t go well, I’ll probably need it more.

    Scotch tape. It’s the book signer’s duct tape: You never know what you might need to display or hold up.

    A camera. Put up photos of your signings at your website, on social networks, in the newspaper, on the door of your car … okay, let’s not go overboard.

    Let me stress: During a book signing never look bored, and never get caught reading a paperback or updating your Facebook – you’re there to work. If there are no customers, check out other products and strike up conversations with employees.

    Decent clothes. Just in case you don’t think of it. Do you write in old sweats, or a bathrobe? Don’t let anyone know that. Don’t dress formally – you want to bring people in, not make them think you’re their banker – but dress nicely. Remember, all black is a cliché!

    Oh, who am I kidding? I wore all black.

    Friday, December 16th, 2011
    1:57 pm
    Chasing Storms for Christmas ... and a bonus

    Apparently this is a big day for ordering off the internet, so this would be a good day to get Storm Chaser in time for holiday giving season. Don’t we need some light, cheerful storytelling right now? Storm Chaser has all that fun stuff: storms, fires, crashes, accident-prone stalkers … what could be more upbeat?

     

    Naturally, you can still order it on my website, at www.markrhunter.com, or from the publisher at www.whiskeycreekpress.com.  It’s also available at Barnes & Noble:

    http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/storm-chaser-mark-r-hunter/1107480138?ean=9781603131131,

                     

    Or on Amazon.com, http://www.amazon.com/Storm-Chaser-ebook/dp/B0056U41F4/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2,

     

    Or even Amazon.com’s United Kingdom site, http://www.amazon.co.uk/Storm-Chaser-ebook/dp/B0056U41F4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1324059653&sr=8-2, where it can be had for only five … um … squiggly line things.

     

    They also have it up on fictionwise.com. On a more local level, Storm Chaser is available in two book stores: Summer’s Stories in Kendallville: http://www.summersstoriesbookstore.com/product/storm-chaser-mark-r-hunter, and at The Bookmark in Fort Wayne, although they don’t appear to have it up on their website:

    http://www.thebookmark.net/servlet/StoreFront

     

    Finally, you can get a signed copy at the antique shop, “Just Off the Square” in Albion, or if you prefer your copies unsigned (or want to hit me up for a signature later), they can be found at the Albion New Era and Churubusco News in those communities, or at Freedom Acres near Cromwell.

     

    Don’t forget also that the Storm Chaser cover by Gemini Judson is featured on the 2012 Whiskey Creek Press calendar:  http://www.cafepress.com/whiskey_creek.593557651

     

    Did I miss anyone?

     

    And now – just to see who made it this far – the soft launch has begun for My Funny Valentine, a humor compilation (centered around guess which holiday?) that includes one of my columns as well as funny stuff from forty of the best humor writers around. I’ll have print copies myself later (great Valentine’s Day gifts, if you’re willing to think that far ahead) but if anyone wants to check it out ahead of time it can be found on e-book at Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/My-Funny-Valentine-Hilarious-Complications/dp/1936955040/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1323064081&sr=8-1

    and smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/112278

     

    The website for My Funny Valentine is here: http://myfunnybooks.biz/; but of course, if you buy a print copy from me you’ll get a signed copy (keep in mind that only I’ll be able to sign it, not all the rest of those great writers!) I’ll have copies at my January 30th book signing at the Noble County Public Library in Albion, and later there’ll be order information on my website, or you can just e-mail me if you want one. Hope you like it!

    Thursday, December 15th, 2011
    4:25 am
    Sinus Season Starts: Sickness Ensues

    Sinus Season Starts; Sickness Ensues


    Sorry I've been scarce; I've started on three new medications for various problems within the last two weeks, and they've pretty much kicked my butt through a wall. If I don't feel better by Christmas I'm having my body amputated.
     

    SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

                    I’ve been fighting the mother of all sinus infections this week … which is not a comment about my mother, mind you.

                        Why are really big things called “The Mother Of”, anyway? Seems a bit insulting to mothers. You know what? I’ve been fighting the cousin of all sinus infections. Think that cousin from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, who shows up with his brood, parks his RV on your lawn, and can’t be kicked off the property without a nuclear exchange.

                        I haven’t talked about it much because I get sick all winter, every winter, and I can only get at best three columns out of that before I get boring even by my standards. Illnesses around the holidays are a tradition in my household, like fruitcake, and just as welcome. The only real difference this year is that I’ve been battling some extra-intense back pain at the same time; but if I had a dime for every time my back hurt I could pay for a spine transplant.

                        If John F. Kennedy could have chronic back pain, be President, and still romance Marilyn Monroe, I guess I’m okay as long as I stay out of the Bay of Pigs.

                        About a month ago I went to my family doctor, who approved my sinus infection (Thanks, Doc!). I took the antibiotics, but apparently have those super-germs that eat medicine for lunch and still have enough energy to sledgehammer the inside of my skull. In short, it didn’t go away. Being a guy, I did nothing; most men are convinced that almost any problem will go away if you ignore it long enough, which explains a lot when you consider the ratio of males to females in Congress.

                        Then, the first day of the Thanksgiving break (in other words, all the Doctors were golfing in Florida), my ear started bleeding.

                        The typical guy excuses followed: It must have been a pimple; I cut myself shaving; it’s from an old childhood injury when we used to act out Three Stooges routines.

                        In the end I went to a clinic that’s sponsored by my workplace; not because I don’t like my regular doctor, but because there’s this whole work thing where they encourage us to go to the clinic because it saves money, somehow. I know it saves me money; how it saves them money, I don’t know.

                        Anyway, I had the good fortune of being examined by the oldest Doctor I’ve ever met in my life. How old? He told me about how his grandfather graduated from medical school just after the turn of the century … the turn of the last century.

                        He poked and prodded. A lot. This made me feel good, because I like my medical people to be thorough, although it also made me feel bad because of the intense pain. The sinuses above my eyes were so swollen it looked like I was in makeup to play a Klingon in the next Star Trek movie. I knew this because my fiancée greeted me that morning with, “Captain, Klingons off the starboard bow!”  Ha. Ha.

                        The real surprise was when the doc poked a spot below my eyes, prompting me to scream a traditional Cherokee phrase that roughly translates to: “Ouch!”

                        My sinuses, the doctor proceeded to explain, were like the Japanese army on Iwo Jima during World War 2; we could bomb them all day with over the counter meds, but eventually we’d have to send Marine antibiotics in to dig them out.

                        That seemed a bit too politically incorrect, as would asking him if he was actually at Iwo Jima. He substituted that with another example: “We’re going to have to use antibiotics that are like General Grant during the Civil War: He said, ‘We’ll hold the line all summer if we have to’.”

                        Which I hope doesn’t mean taking antibiotics all winter. Still, if I’m to understand that my sinus infection is General Robert E. Lee, maybe I’d better start drinking the whiskey Grant used. It might not heal me any faster, but after awhile I won’t care.

                        This doc obviously has a grasp not only on medicine, but on history. He gave me antibiotics so powerful that they’ve been banned as part of the U.N. nuclear test agreement. These antibiotics, he told me, were the Chuck Norris of medicine; in fact, they’re the only ones that work on Chuck Norris. They’re not called controlled substances, because they can’t be controlled; they’re the drugs Albert Einstein warned President Roosevelt never to use. They’re so powerful that if you take two pills from the bottle at the same time, they might collapse reality into a bizarro world where politicians make sense and reality TV is real.

                        I confess to being concerned.

                        Still, later I learned of a new method to clean the sinuses that basically involves sticking a fire hose up your nose and giving yourself a sinus-enema.

                        After that, drugs didn’t seem so bad.
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Mark R. Hunter   About InsaneJournal