I will confess a great character flaw: I want my work to be appreciated. I know we're supposed to labor for the sake of the work -- and most times, I can do that -- but sometimes I'd like a pat on the back.
At times I've wanted to be appreciated more than paid. My poor bank account sure looks that way.
By the way, I'm talking about creative work. And no, this isn't a call for you to pat me on the back. It's more of a reminder to myself to not be so dang ... needy, I guess.
I think I might be in overshare mode. Just avert your eyes until it's over.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Saturday, February 09, 2013
Wrong handed
Sometimes you have people in your life who pretend to support you. They are worse than the people who openly oppose you. You probably have these pretenders in your life, too. Those people who have mastered the wrong handed compliment: "That shirt makes you look so much thinner. I just wish it wasn't so out dated." "You do so well. If only you could do that way at work, you'd be a huge success." "Oh, your book is good, but have you ever thought of writing something that everyone will like?"
The leading compliment is only to soften you up for the later blow. Frankly, I'm tired of the people who pretend to be subtle, who think they're sly, who think they can keep me down. Support me, and I'll support you. Attempt to tear me down, and buddy, I'm walking away, changing my number, arming the alarms, blowing up the bridges between us. I don't need people like that. I'll be happier without them. They can go and find other prey. Or drop off the earth into a swamp. I don't much care.
These hidden enemies can be friends, family, bosses, co-workers ... the levelers who back-stab and back-bite, who rejoice in your failures behind your back but sympathize to your face. They're levelers because they want to bring you down. How dare you aspire to be more. How dare you raise from the mud to reach for the stars.
And when you find those people, when you realize what they are, let them go. Push them away, run from them. De-friend them, block them, be ruthless. You're in a fight for your life. Don't let them win.
P.S. By the way, if you think this post is about you, it is. I probably didn't write it with you in mind, but you know yourself better than I do.
P.S.S. I've removed most of those people from my Facebook, Linked-IN, my life. If you're on there, this post isn't about you.
P.S.S.S. Unless it is, of course, and then you know what's coming, don't you?
The leading compliment is only to soften you up for the later blow. Frankly, I'm tired of the people who pretend to be subtle, who think they're sly, who think they can keep me down. Support me, and I'll support you. Attempt to tear me down, and buddy, I'm walking away, changing my number, arming the alarms, blowing up the bridges between us. I don't need people like that. I'll be happier without them. They can go and find other prey. Or drop off the earth into a swamp. I don't much care.
These hidden enemies can be friends, family, bosses, co-workers ... the levelers who back-stab and back-bite, who rejoice in your failures behind your back but sympathize to your face. They're levelers because they want to bring you down. How dare you aspire to be more. How dare you raise from the mud to reach for the stars.
And when you find those people, when you realize what they are, let them go. Push them away, run from them. De-friend them, block them, be ruthless. You're in a fight for your life. Don't let them win.
P.S. By the way, if you think this post is about you, it is. I probably didn't write it with you in mind, but you know yourself better than I do.
P.S.S. I've removed most of those people from my Facebook, Linked-IN, my life. If you're on there, this post isn't about you.
P.S.S.S. Unless it is, of course, and then you know what's coming, don't you?
Friday, February 08, 2013
Thursday, February 07, 2013
Bought my books yet?
By Stephen B. Bagley
Poetry - Enjoy more than 50 sensual & moving poems, including the award winning "Non-Communion," "Torrent," & "Endless."
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Lulu
By Stephen B. Bagley
Humor - Laugh at more than 80 hilarious tales from the author's decidedly different life.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
Buy on Lulu
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the ladies man? Bernard, Lisa & the chief are back! New expanded edition. 2nd in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Lulu
Buy on Amazon
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the ladies man? Bernard, Lisa & the chief are back! 2nd in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the librarian? 1st in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
Buy on Lulu
By Stephen B. Bagley
Inspirational - Have you ever wondered about everyone else in Bethlehem on the night of the Nativity? These charming and touching Tales will tell you their stories.
Buy on Lulu
Wednesday, February 06, 2013
Back problems are back
Been fighting with my back all week. It's determined to put me in a walker, and I'm just as determined not to. And I think it's better today. I still can't do much, but there was less pain today. Just have to stay careful about how I move and what I do, do my back exercises as gently as I can, and take my meds.
Naturally, this doesn't mean it won't get worse, but I'm hopeful.
Naturally, this doesn't mean it won't get worse, but I'm hopeful.
Tuesday, February 05, 2013
Email, chat & phone tag
Spent the morning and part of this afternoon emailing, live chatting, and finally telephoning my publisher to fix a problem. Got it fixed and everyone I talked to was nice, but gee, it look hours to get it fixed.
Yesterday I went on a couple of errands. That was the first time I've been out by myself since I hurt my back. Just me and my cane cruising town! Except my back didn't hold out long so I had to come home fairly soon, but I'm hopeful that I've finally turned the corner on this and soon will be out harassing people all the time.
Yesterday I went on a couple of errands. That was the first time I've been out by myself since I hurt my back. Just me and my cane cruising town! Except my back didn't hold out long so I had to come home fairly soon, but I'm hopeful that I've finally turned the corner on this and soon will be out harassing people all the time.
Monday, February 04, 2013
Chai latte on my back
It's official: I'm addicted to chai latte. Oh, I could stop whenever I want, but I don't want to and I'm not going to.
I'd like to thank my Keurig Coffee machine for making it so easy to brew a cup and Staples for making K-Cups available.
And of course, each and every one of you who inspire me to indulge. Thank you all. :)
Sunday, February 03, 2013
Author's new website
Visit my friend Laura Eckroat's new author website: The Books of Laura Eckroat. Laura writes children's Christian fiction. Here's a listing of her excellent and touching books:
A Simpler Time
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Tate Publishing
Over-saturated with the latest video games and iPhone apps, does anyone slow down to remember A Simpler Time? Join A.J. as she discovers a summer of fun with her mom, finding animals in the clouds, and a trek to find the perfect four-leaf clover!
The Life of BUD
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Tate Publishing
This is the story of life and how important we all are and how hard it is to let go in the end. The story follows Bud, who starts out in life as a tiny bud. He feels insignificant, but Bud grows into a beautiful, vibrant leaf on the Mighty Oak Tree and becomes an important part of the tree. Those who have looked for a children's book that explains gently about the topic of life and death, look no further.
Went Out To Get A DONUT-
Came Home With A MUFFIN
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Tate Publishing
A charming, whimsical way to engage the littlest readers into the importance of animal rescue. A family goes out for a routine day, then stumbles upon a surprising opportunity: a cute, fluffy puppy. Should the family take him home?
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Tate Publishing
Over-saturated with the latest video games and iPhone apps, does anyone slow down to remember A Simpler Time? Join A.J. as she discovers a summer of fun with her mom, finding animals in the clouds, and a trek to find the perfect four-leaf clover!
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Tate Publishing
This is the story of life and how important we all are and how hard it is to let go in the end. The story follows Bud, who starts out in life as a tiny bud. He feels insignificant, but Bud grows into a beautiful, vibrant leaf on the Mighty Oak Tree and becomes an important part of the tree. Those who have looked for a children's book that explains gently about the topic of life and death, look no further.
Came Home With A MUFFIN
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Tate Publishing
A charming, whimsical way to engage the littlest readers into the importance of animal rescue. A family goes out for a routine day, then stumbles upon a surprising opportunity: a cute, fluffy puppy. Should the family take him home?
Saturday, February 02, 2013
Treat
I had such a painful and distressing day that I have just treated myself to a delivery pizza.
Okay, it's a thin crust one topping pizza, but it still feels like a treat to me on this low carb diet.
My back really beat me up today. I could barely move, and I have so many things I wanted to get done. Got to lose more weight. That will make my back feel better. It won't fix it, but it will help.
Well, that will happen, God willing, but right now, I just had to endure this until my back decides it will get better.
It's enough to make me want to drink!
Okay, it's a thin crust one topping pizza, but it still feels like a treat to me on this low carb diet.
My back really beat me up today. I could barely move, and I have so many things I wanted to get done. Got to lose more weight. That will make my back feel better. It won't fix it, but it will help.
Well, that will happen, God willing, but right now, I just had to endure this until my back decides it will get better.
It's enough to make me want to drink!
Friday, February 01, 2013
Gateway Beverage
I'm feeling a profound gratitude to coffee today. I'm also feeling I shouldn't feel that appreciative. But apparently all my green tea was only a gateway beverage to coffee.
That's how it sneaks up on you. You think you're dedicated to a healthy lifestyle, but then ... you wake up with coffee on your back.
And that's the way it goes.
That's how it sneaks up on you. You think you're dedicated to a healthy lifestyle, but then ... you wake up with coffee on your back.
And that's the way it goes.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
A Great Big World - This Is the New Year!
Wish I had found this on New Year's Day. It would have been especially fitting, but since every day can be the start of a new year for us ... this is a new year!
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Excerpt from "Murder by the Mile"
Thank the Lord for coffee breaks! My throat is sore, my back hurts, and the characters in my novel are trying to kill me. Of course, I've been tormenting them, but that's my job. They're just being contrary and childish to oppose the slings and arrows. Speaking of my novel, I've posted a couple scenes that were cut. Here's one (unedited) that's staying.
The Ryton Many Mile Marathon Chairperson Dolores Hyatt had been working in the huge race tent when runners began to share the news about what was happening on Watts Ridge. She had been horrified as the details emerged, but she kept the volunteers focused on processing the racers and making sure they all received their t-shirts and giveaways. At least none of the racers had been injured.
“Dee,” Abby Lange hissed at her. “It’s him!”
Dolores looked up from her clipboard. Michael Hyatt stood in the entrance scanning the tables. Strangely enough, he was dressed in his jogging suit even though she knew her soon-to-be-ex-husband hadn’t run in the race. Or had someone else checked him in?
She saw when he saw her. His face twisted. She tried to control her rapid breathing as he strode over to her.
“We need to talk,” he said flatly. “Now. Come with me.” The anger in his voice made her flinch.
For a moment, her body nearly betrayed her. She had always done what her husband said, had always taken his anger as her due, and had hid the bruises to protect him time and time again. But she would never do that again.
“You need to talk to my attorney,” she said, proud that her voice didn’t quiver. “Call Harold Hast –”
“I know who your attorney is,” Michael cut in, his voice shaking with fury. “I read the papers you had served to me today!”
“I guess the server couldn’t find you yesterday,” Dolores said. “Call Harold.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Michael yelled. “Now, come with me!”
People looked at them. All the noise in the tent ceased. Abby rose and came to stand behind Dolores.
Dolores looked down, feeling the old familiar shame. Only Abby’s hand on her shoulder kept her in her chair.
“Michael, you should go,” Abby said.
“Stay out of this,” Michael snarled. “If you know what’s good for you.”
“She does,” Abby’s husband Mack said from behind the real estate agent. Mack, a construction foreman, stared down at Michael. “And if you think you’re going to beat my wife like you beat yours, you'd better rethink real fast.” Mack brought his face down to an inch from Michael’s. “Why don’t you go before I make you go?”
For a moment, Dolores thought Michael was going to throw himself at the much larger man, but he backed away.
“This isn’t over,” Michael told Dolores.
“Call Harold Hastings,” she said, not trusting herself to look up. “I won’t talk to you.”
“You will. One way or another, you will.” Michael turned and left the tent.
“He’s so mad,” Dolores said, sick with fear.
“It’s okay,” Abby said. “It’s okay now. He can’t hurt you now.”
“He’d better not try,” Mack said. “I’ll snap him like a twig.”
“Mack, that’s enough,” Abby said. “Dee, are you all right?”
Dolores nodded. “He wasn’t supposed to be here.”
“Mack, take her clipboard,” Abby commanded. “Dee and I are going to take a break.”
“But I don’t know what to do,” Mack said.
Abby glanced at him. “You’ll learn.” She handed the clipboard to Mack. “Dee and I will be right back.”
Abby led Dolores over to the refreshment table where she got them both a cup of black coffee with plenty of sugar and creamer. “We can sit in my car,” Abby said. “It’s right over here.”
In the car, Dolores cried for a good ten minutes while Abby held her hand and listened.
Finally, Dolores pulled herself back together. “I’m sorry, Abs.”
“Sweetie, I’m always here for you,” Abby said. “You’re going to get through this, and your life is going to be so much better. I’m proud of you. And Mack and I are going to be beside you all the way.”
This caused Dolores to cry for another five minutes while trying to tell Abby how much she appreciated their support. Finally, she pulled herself together.
“Have you told Sherry yet?” Abby asked.
“No,” Dolores said. “She will never forgive me. She’s always been her daddy’s girl.”
“You might be surprised,” Abby said.
“Maybe,” Dolores said, but she knew better. Sherry was cut from the same pattern as her father who had denied her nothing. Dolores had done what she could, but it hadn’t been enough. She wished Sherry and Bernard hadn't broke up. Bernard had been a good influence on her daughter unlike Jerry who gave in to Sherry on everything.
They sat quietly for a few minutes watching the runners trickle in.
“You know what I think? I think it’s so sad that a nice man like Cyrus Fowler is dead while Michael Hyatt isn’t.”
“Don’t say that,” Dolores said. But she secretly agreed, and for a moment, wondered how to do it.
(From Murder by the Mile. Copyright 2013 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying without express written permission. Thank you for reading.)
The Ryton Many Mile Marathon Chairperson Dolores Hyatt had been working in the huge race tent when runners began to share the news about what was happening on Watts Ridge. She had been horrified as the details emerged, but she kept the volunteers focused on processing the racers and making sure they all received their t-shirts and giveaways. At least none of the racers had been injured.
“Dee,” Abby Lange hissed at her. “It’s him!”
Dolores looked up from her clipboard. Michael Hyatt stood in the entrance scanning the tables. Strangely enough, he was dressed in his jogging suit even though she knew her soon-to-be-ex-husband hadn’t run in the race. Or had someone else checked him in?
She saw when he saw her. His face twisted. She tried to control her rapid breathing as he strode over to her.
“We need to talk,” he said flatly. “Now. Come with me.” The anger in his voice made her flinch.
For a moment, her body nearly betrayed her. She had always done what her husband said, had always taken his anger as her due, and had hid the bruises to protect him time and time again. But she would never do that again.
“You need to talk to my attorney,” she said, proud that her voice didn’t quiver. “Call Harold Hast –”
“I know who your attorney is,” Michael cut in, his voice shaking with fury. “I read the papers you had served to me today!”
“I guess the server couldn’t find you yesterday,” Dolores said. “Call Harold.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Michael yelled. “Now, come with me!”
People looked at them. All the noise in the tent ceased. Abby rose and came to stand behind Dolores.
Dolores looked down, feeling the old familiar shame. Only Abby’s hand on her shoulder kept her in her chair.
“Michael, you should go,” Abby said.
“Stay out of this,” Michael snarled. “If you know what’s good for you.”
“She does,” Abby’s husband Mack said from behind the real estate agent. Mack, a construction foreman, stared down at Michael. “And if you think you’re going to beat my wife like you beat yours, you'd better rethink real fast.” Mack brought his face down to an inch from Michael’s. “Why don’t you go before I make you go?”
For a moment, Dolores thought Michael was going to throw himself at the much larger man, but he backed away.
“This isn’t over,” Michael told Dolores.
“Call Harold Hastings,” she said, not trusting herself to look up. “I won’t talk to you.”
“You will. One way or another, you will.” Michael turned and left the tent.
“He’s so mad,” Dolores said, sick with fear.
“It’s okay,” Abby said. “It’s okay now. He can’t hurt you now.”
“He’d better not try,” Mack said. “I’ll snap him like a twig.”
“Mack, that’s enough,” Abby said. “Dee, are you all right?”
Dolores nodded. “He wasn’t supposed to be here.”
“Mack, take her clipboard,” Abby commanded. “Dee and I are going to take a break.”
“But I don’t know what to do,” Mack said.
Abby glanced at him. “You’ll learn.” She handed the clipboard to Mack. “Dee and I will be right back.”
Abby led Dolores over to the refreshment table where she got them both a cup of black coffee with plenty of sugar and creamer. “We can sit in my car,” Abby said. “It’s right over here.”
In the car, Dolores cried for a good ten minutes while Abby held her hand and listened.
Finally, Dolores pulled herself back together. “I’m sorry, Abs.”
“Sweetie, I’m always here for you,” Abby said. “You’re going to get through this, and your life is going to be so much better. I’m proud of you. And Mack and I are going to be beside you all the way.”
This caused Dolores to cry for another five minutes while trying to tell Abby how much she appreciated their support. Finally, she pulled herself together.
“Have you told Sherry yet?” Abby asked.
“No,” Dolores said. “She will never forgive me. She’s always been her daddy’s girl.”
“You might be surprised,” Abby said.
“Maybe,” Dolores said, but she knew better. Sherry was cut from the same pattern as her father who had denied her nothing. Dolores had done what she could, but it hadn’t been enough. She wished Sherry and Bernard hadn't broke up. Bernard had been a good influence on her daughter unlike Jerry who gave in to Sherry on everything.
They sat quietly for a few minutes watching the runners trickle in.
“You know what I think? I think it’s so sad that a nice man like Cyrus Fowler is dead while Michael Hyatt isn’t.”
“Don’t say that,” Dolores said. But she secretly agreed, and for a moment, wondered how to do it.
(From Murder by the Mile. Copyright 2013 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying without express written permission. Thank you for reading.)
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Yes, buy my books!
By Stephen B. Bagley
Poetry - Enjoy more than 50 sensual & moving poems, including the award winning "Non-Communion," "Torrent," & "Endless."
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Lulu
By Stephen B. Bagley
Humor - Laugh at more than 80 hilarious tales from the author's decidedly different life.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
Buy on Lulu
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the ladies man? Bernard, Lisa & the chief are back! New expanded edition. 2nd in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Lulu
Buy on Amazon
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the ladies man? Bernard, Lisa & the chief are back! 2nd in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the librarian? 1st in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
Buy on Lulu
By Stephen B. Bagley
Inspirational - Have you ever wondered about everyone else in Bethlehem on the night of the Nativity? These charming and touching Tales will tell you their stories.
Buy on Lulu
Monday, January 28, 2013
Riddle 8
The more of this there is, the less we can see it. What is it?
Answer in comments if you can.
Answer in comments if you can.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Riddle 7
Inside a green house outside a white house outside a red house that holds many children. What am I?
Answer in comments if you can.
Answer in comments if you can.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Riddle 6
What runs but never walks, sometimes gurgles, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?
Answer in comments if you can.
Answer in comments if you can.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Riddle 5
It's said to be greater than God, but more evil than the devil, too. The poor have it, the rich need it, and if you eat it, you'll die. What is it?
Answer in comments if you can.
Answer in comments if you can.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Monday, January 21, 2013
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Idle thoughts
Just finished Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow by Jerome K. Jerome. I can't recommend it. There are a few mildly amusing moments in it, but a lot of the essays were quite depressing and sad. Three Men in a Boat also had some somber moments in it, but not so melancholy. I was quite disappointed in IDIF. The essays are out-dated for the most part, and the humor is lacking. I don't think I will read the sequel, either.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Three Men in a Boat
Finally read Three Men in a Boat and Three Men on the Bummel by Jerome K. Jerome. Although both are dated, they still had places in them where I laughed out loud, Three Men in a Boat more than Three Men on the Bummel. Considering they were published in 1889 and 1900 respectively, that's quite an accomplishment. Particularly since society has changed so much.
I recommend both books. You can find them at your local library. Online, you can find several places that offer them free, the copyright having long since expired. Here's the ebook offering from the Gutenberg project: Three Men in a Boat. Enjoy!
I recommend both books. You can find them at your local library. Online, you can find several places that offer them free, the copyright having long since expired. Here's the ebook offering from the Gutenberg project: Three Men in a Boat. Enjoy!
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Twitter truth
It may be true that "the love of money is the root of all evil," but let me tell you that being poor ain't no walk in the park, buddy.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Weird weather
I just stepped outside and enjoyed the weather for a few minutes. A cool breeze, but not too cool. Sunshine. Weird weather for January, but enjoyable. I do hope we get more rain soon. The lakes and ponds still have a ways to go before they're filled.
I crave rain. I crave moisture. I'm so tired of the dead trees and grass and, Lord, I want spring, and I want it now.
I crave rain. I crave moisture. I'm so tired of the dead trees and grass and, Lord, I want spring, and I want it now.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Disconnect
Disconnect
By Stephen B. Bagley
We don't connect in any way.
No one speaks your name.
No romantic pictures stain the walls.
Years stand between you and me.
But I see the way of walking
of a complete stranger
and my traitorous heart leaps,
hopeful breath catches in flight.
Do you think of me at all
during the endless tasks of day?
Or in the darkest hours of night,
do you too lie awake and wonder?
You were my first lover,
and you said I was yours.
You nearly were my last,
but I wasn't yours.
With all that stands between us now --
years, words, new loves, and lovers --
still you lurk in the shadow places.
A final disconnect is what I need.
So old lover, ancient broken heart,
memories from a dream of another life,
tormentor and remembered sorrow,
time for me to let go.
January 2013
(Copyright 2013 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying without express prior written permission. Thank you for reading.)
By Stephen B. Bagley
We don't connect in any way.
No one speaks your name.
No romantic pictures stain the walls.
Years stand between you and me.
But I see the way of walking
of a complete stranger
and my traitorous heart leaps,
hopeful breath catches in flight.
Do you think of me at all
during the endless tasks of day?
Or in the darkest hours of night,
do you too lie awake and wonder?
You were my first lover,
and you said I was yours.
You nearly were my last,
but I wasn't yours.
With all that stands between us now --
years, words, new loves, and lovers --
still you lurk in the shadow places.
A final disconnect is what I need.
So old lover, ancient broken heart,
memories from a dream of another life,
tormentor and remembered sorrow,
time for me to let go.
January 2013
(Copyright 2013 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying without express prior written permission. Thank you for reading.)
Monday, January 14, 2013
Dirge Without Music
DIRGE WITHOUT MUSIC
By Edna St. Vincent Millay (1893-1950)
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, – but the best is lost.
The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
By Edna St. Vincent Millay (1893-1950)
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, – but the best is lost.
The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Buy My Books!
By Stephen B. Bagley
Poetry - Enjoy more than 50 sensual & moving poems, including the award winning "Non-Communion," "Torrent," & "Endless."
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Lulu
By Stephen B. Bagley
Humor - Laugh at more than 80 hilarious tales from the author's decidedly different life.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
Buy on Lulu
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the ladies man? Bernard, Lisa & the chief are back! New expanded edition. 2nd in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Lulu
Buy on Amazon
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the ladies man? Bernard, Lisa & the chief are back! 2nd in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the librarian? 1st in Measurements of Murder series.
Buy on Amazon
Buy on Barnes & Noble
Buy on Lulu
By Stephen B. Bagley
Inspirational - Have you ever wondered about everyone else in Bethlehem on the night of the Nativity? These charming and touching Tales will tell you their stories.
Buy on Lulu
Saturday, January 12, 2013
The only way
I wish I knew an easier way to do whatever you want to do: write a book, run a marathon, rekindle your relationship with your spouse, achieve your dream ... but the only way I know is by work. Working unceasing and giving up that which doesn't advance your goals. Life is about choices, and each choice we make closes the door on another choice. It's regrettable, it's hard, it makes me want to howl at times, but in the end, you have to believe that the sacrifice is worth it -- even if you fail.
From At Cross Purposes by Stephen B. Bagley
From At Cross Purposes by Stephen B. Bagley
Friday, January 11, 2013
Best advice in a while
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Another discard
Still slow and steady on Murder by the Mile. Adding new material and discarding old. Speaking of which, here's another discard.
He had taken a
terrible chance this time and nearly got caught because of it. He wanted to get
this over with. The old woman had shaken him. So he had stalked the old man
yesterday and found Merriman Smith lived alone. The house had been easy to get
into; the back door wasn’t locked. Once there, he had waited quietly for the
old man get home.
He knew how to wait. It seemed he had done
that his whole life. Waiting for joy, waiting for happiness, waiting for
closure, waiting for his life to be different, waiting for a sign. A sign of
what he was to do. It all started with that story in the Tulsa World. A simple
story on the financial page, but he had seen Cyrus Fowler’s name. He read it,
not understanding the financial terms, but getting the gist of it. Fowler was
winning an award from a professional organization.
He felt his world spin as he looked at the
photo of Fowler, a man who was nothing more than a murderer winning an award.
How could they? How many people had died because of Fowler? What justice was
there in the world if a man such as that could win the approval of his peers?
When he read future and saw that Fowler
still lived in Ryton and still worked for the same bank, the first inklings of
what he needed to do finally came to him. Not that he started planning yet, but
slowly he understood why his life had stalled. He couldn’t move on until what
started all those years ago was finally finished. Justice would free him. Then
his life would finally begin.
Oh, how he longed for that release!
He couldn’t enjoy the killings. He saw that
now. His glee over Cyrus Fowler had been wrong. He was doing only what was
necessary. He was doing the right thing. While in the long run, the world would
be better, he had to recognize that innocent people would be hurt. He regretted
that, but he had to take the long view. He could see more clearly than they
what the results would be.
Naturally since the other people didn’t
have his vision, they couldn’t help opposing him. He had to be strong and
smarter. Obviously the police were his enemies. And perhaps that librarian. How
had this Bernard Worthington happened to show up before he could finish? He had
thought he had chosen Worthington
by chance.
He had forced Fowler to
walk through the woods, and by that time, Fowler had started to understand this
wasn’t a kidnapping. He regretted now he hadn’t explained to the banker why
this was necessary.
Fowler had tried to run, forcing him to
knock him out. Then he had to drag the banker closer to the road. He could have
hanged Fowler anywhere, but when he learned about the Many Mile Marathon –
where people pretended that what they did actually helped other people – he
decided it would make a statement. That the statement was unclear was no one’s
fault, but his own.
He had to complete this. Only their deaths
could justify his actions. He hoped the old man would die in the hospital. He
would rather hang Merriman Smith, but if he couldn’t, it would work out. It
wasn’t the method that was as important as the deaths themselves. Six people
had to be brought to justice. Two had been. If Merriman Smith died, he would be
halfway to peace and freedom.
He would be more careful next time. But he
had to keep moving forward. Time was his enemy and the friend of his enemies.
He had been careful, but the longer it took to accomplish the murders, the more
chance there was that the police would finally connect them and warn the
remaining targets.
And what of this librarian? Had contrary
fate chosen Bernard Worthington to oppose him? That made sense. What good
purpose hadn’t generated opposition? He must be wary of the librarian and be
ready for opposition.
He must be ready to kill Worthington at all times. For now, he could
afford to wait, but if Worthington
showed up again unexpectedly, then he would know the librarian was his
opponent.
And he would end Bernard Worthington’s
life with no regrets.
Wednesday, January 09, 2013
Slow and steady
I didn't get much done on Murder by the Mile, but I did get some progress made despite how the rainy weather made me want to curl up in bed and sleep, sleep, sleep. No sun today, but I'm not complaining. We need the rain here desperately. We're still in the middle of a drought and ever bit of moisture helps. I wish it would rain slow and steady all week.
And that's how I'm working on MBTM: slow and steady. Just like the rain I want. I am committed to make progress on the book every day. Maybe not great progress, maybe not ten or 15 pages, but progress. And by the way, it will be done.
I guess I'm dining on an elephant if you know that story. (How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. And probably with a sauce of some sort.)
Bon appetit!
And that's how I'm working on MBTM: slow and steady. Just like the rain I want. I am committed to make progress on the book every day. Maybe not great progress, maybe not ten or 15 pages, but progress. And by the way, it will be done.
I guess I'm dining on an elephant if you know that story. (How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. And probably with a sauce of some sort.)
Bon appetit!
Tuesday, January 08, 2013
A MBTM discard
I stayed up late last night working on Murder by the Mile.
Here's a quick update on what happened to the story. Originally when I wrote the first draft, I wrote about 25 percent of the book from the murderer's viewpoint. Then I realized it was a mistake. For one, I didn't enjoy being in the murderer's head, a thoroughly nasty place to visit. Two, I had to play coy with the reader and withhold names and information, which made the writing stilted. And three, I realized that the murderer had to be a different person than I had first thought and so I had written a fifth of the book that had to be discarded.
Well, that's what I've been doing -- discarding words. It's been painful, but the story is clearer and narrative cleaner. I am regaining my enthusiasm for the story. But I thought you might like to see some of what I had to discard. Here's the first scene from the murderer's viewpoint. Or who used to the murderer. This will not be in the book:
He thought hate would carry him through this.
Certainly the first murder hadn’t bothered him. He had even enjoyed it. But this old woman had been tough on him. She looked like the picture of every kid’s storybook grandmother. Her eyes were so soft and gentle. And she smelled of powder and cinnamon.
He had told her what she did in an attempt to keep his hate strong, but she only looked baffled. Said she didn’t remember, pleaded with him to let her live, and pointed out the pictures of her children and grandchildren.
He was tempted to let her live. Perhaps not all of them were equally guilty. But she had seen his face. When he advanced on her, she tried to run and then tried to fight. He killed her as quickly as he could, strangled her aged throat. He had to turn his face away and not watch her die.
Now as he stood over her lifeless body, he felt guilty. And sad. If only they had done the right thing all those years ago, none of this would be necessary. It wasn’t his fault. It was theirs. They were reaping what they had sowed. He had to believe that. He had to hold on that, the truth behind all the lies.
If hate couldn’t propel him forward, then justice would.
Just four more to go, and then he could see what else the world had to offer besides justice and sorrow.
Here's a quick update on what happened to the story. Originally when I wrote the first draft, I wrote about 25 percent of the book from the murderer's viewpoint. Then I realized it was a mistake. For one, I didn't enjoy being in the murderer's head, a thoroughly nasty place to visit. Two, I had to play coy with the reader and withhold names and information, which made the writing stilted. And three, I realized that the murderer had to be a different person than I had first thought and so I had written a fifth of the book that had to be discarded.
Well, that's what I've been doing -- discarding words. It's been painful, but the story is clearer and narrative cleaner. I am regaining my enthusiasm for the story. But I thought you might like to see some of what I had to discard. Here's the first scene from the murderer's viewpoint. Or who used to the murderer. This will not be in the book:
He thought hate would carry him through this.
Certainly the first murder hadn’t bothered him. He had even enjoyed it. But this old woman had been tough on him. She looked like the picture of every kid’s storybook grandmother. Her eyes were so soft and gentle. And she smelled of powder and cinnamon.
He had told her what she did in an attempt to keep his hate strong, but she only looked baffled. Said she didn’t remember, pleaded with him to let her live, and pointed out the pictures of her children and grandchildren.
He was tempted to let her live. Perhaps not all of them were equally guilty. But she had seen his face. When he advanced on her, she tried to run and then tried to fight. He killed her as quickly as he could, strangled her aged throat. He had to turn his face away and not watch her die.
Now as he stood over her lifeless body, he felt guilty. And sad. If only they had done the right thing all those years ago, none of this would be necessary. It wasn’t his fault. It was theirs. They were reaping what they had sowed. He had to believe that. He had to hold on that, the truth behind all the lies.
If hate couldn’t propel him forward, then justice would.
Just four more to go, and then he could see what else the world had to offer besides justice and sorrow.
Monday, January 07, 2013
Another direction
Currently I'm printing another draft of Murder by the Mile. Tomorrow is a MBTM day. At least that's the plan. I have a lot -- A LOT -- of rewriting to do. And unfortunately, I have to cut a really good scene. I hate losing words. It feels like I'm going backwards, but I have to. I took a wrong turn, and I must retrace my steps and go another direction.
Sunday, January 06, 2013
What a writer needs
Another question I'm supposed to address in the online presentation is "The Most Important Quality A Writer Needs." Creativity, of course, springs to mind, but I'm going with Discipline. I know several people who are more creative than me, and they're always saying they're going to write a book someday, but they start and then abandon the project or never start. Having the Discipline to continue is the only way to get a project done. It's not easy to sit in your chair in front of your computer after day after day after day, but that's the only way to get the words, scenes, chapters, books.
And equally important is Belief. You have to believe in your words. If you're just writing for yourself -- say, a journal or diary -- then maybe belief isn't as important. But if you're writing for publication, you have to believe you have something to say that other people will want to read. That belief has to be strong enough to carry you through setbacks, criticism, writing blocks, and other disappointments.
And equally important is Belief. You have to believe in your words. If you're just writing for yourself -- say, a journal or diary -- then maybe belief isn't as important. But if you're writing for publication, you have to believe you have something to say that other people will want to read. That belief has to be strong enough to carry you through setbacks, criticism, writing blocks, and other disappointments.
Saturday, January 05, 2013
My best writing advice
I was asked to do an online presentation for a writing group on "My Best Writing Advice." I thought a lot about it, and I think while "Write What You Know" is good advice, I think it's more important to "Write What You Enjoy."
If you don't enjoy writing, you won't continue. Desire for money or recognition or validation can carry you only so far. (And writing only for those is, I think, a good way to be miserable.) But writing what you enjoy, then your work can give you pleasure even as you wrestle with it.
If you don't enjoy writing, you won't continue. Desire for money or recognition or validation can carry you only so far. (And writing only for those is, I think, a good way to be miserable.) But writing what you enjoy, then your work can give you pleasure even as you wrestle with it.
Friday, January 04, 2013
Cuppa
I'm about to have a cup of coffee. It's been several days since I've had one. I thought I might give it up completely. But then today rolled around, and I realized I needed -- NEEDED -- a cup. But I can quit any time I want to. I just don't want to.
Thursday, January 03, 2013
My books! Buy! Buy! Buy!
By Stephen B. Bagley
Poetry - Enjoy more than 50 sensual & moving poems, including the award winning "Non-Communion," "Torrent," & "Endless."
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Humor - Laugh at more than 80 hilarious tales from the author's decidedly different life.
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By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the ladies man? Bernard, Lisa & the chief are back! New expanded edition. 2nd in Measurements of Murder series.
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By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the ladies man? Bernard, Lisa & the chief are back! 2nd in Measurements of Murder series.
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By Stephen B. Bagley
Mystery - Who killed the librarian? 1st in Measurements of Murder series.
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By Stephen B. Bagley
Inspirational - Have you ever wondered about everyone else in Bethlehem on the night of the Nativity? These charming and touching Tales will tell you their stories.
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Wednesday, January 02, 2013
Old and New
It's that time to look at my goals for the new year. I should look at my goals from 2012, but I'm afraid they will blind me with their arrogance. Perhaps I will take a peek later, but for right now, let's talk about what I accomplished.
- Published and promoted Tales from Bethlehem. That is one of the best things I did last year. There were more headaches with the publishing and writing process than I expected or planned for, but overall, I'm quite proud of it. And while it hasn't outsold any of my mysteries, it's holding a comfortable third position on my sales chart. Since it's seasonal -- and I can update it -- I hope for more sales next year.
Tales was my fifth book. Murder by Dewey Decimal, Murder by the Acre, EndlesS, Floozy & Other Stories, and now Tales from Bethlehem. I've read that you have to have 11 books published (in the self-publishing world) before you can start making a decent living from your writing. I guess I'll see if that's true.
- Published Creations 2012 by Ada Writers. Although it doesn't carry my imprint, this truly was the first Many Rivers Harbor book. It's the one that gave me the idea of publishing other people's books.
- Published Secret of the Pack Rat's Nest by Martha Rhynes. The first official Many Rivers Harbor book. I learned so much contracts, deadlines, working with authors, etc., and even made a little money to boot. A definite win.
- Published On Target: Devotions for Modern Life. The second Many Rivers Harbor book. Still learned a lot, but the process went much smoother, and it's a lovely book.
- Was elected president of the Ada Writers writing group. My term started January 1. We'll see how this goes. I'm to guide them through the publishing process for Creations 2013. Looking forward to that.
- Continued to publish the monthly family newsletters. The subscribers continue to support its publication. It's even grown a bit. And I'm no longer losing money on it. That's a win.
- Read 119 books. I'm counting this is a win because I wanted to read 100, but still, I should watch that. When I consider the number of magazines, newspapers, websites, and posts I read ... Reading has always been my drug. Maybe I need to try to interact with the Real World more. No, I should. Really.
Well, let's look at my goals from last year and see how I did.
Writing
1. I will finish and publish Murder by the Mile. To this end, I have committed to writing one page per day five days a week. I hope to do write more, but that's the baseline. Did not do.
2. I will publish Tales from Bethlehem. Mostly I just have to be pull it together, write two more Tales for it, and create a cover. Did.
3. I will continue to work on Debt Free At Last! A Beginner's Guide to Money Management. I'd like to publish it this year, but it's not as high a priority as the other two are. Did not and abandoned the project.
4. I will continue to add Christmas cards to Oakleaf Harbor on Cafepress.com. I'd like to have 50 card designs available before November next year. Did not do.
5. I will add a birthday card selection to Oakleaf Harbor on Cafepress.com. I'd like to have 50 card designs available this year. Did not do.
6. I will continue to send Dragons Gather and Darkness, Oklahoma to agents and publishers. Because each rejection moves me closer to an acceptance. Did. Garnered two more rejections for Dragons and one for Darkness.
Health
7. I will walk at the gym 4-5 days a week, depending on health and holidays. Did although stopped walking at the end of October because I hurt my ankle. And I only walked three days a week.
8. I will improve my diet and eat more veggies and low carb foods. Did and did't.
9. I will arrange for a colonoscopy. I have to figure out how to pay for it, but with the cancer history in my family, I need to do this this year. Did not due to lack of money, but have plans for it this year.
10. I will continue to look at holistic health solutions and ways of life. Did.
Declutter
11. I will remove 50 books from my book collection and sell or donate to the local library. Did.
12. I will have two garage sales. Had one.
13. I will remove 50 items from my closets and sell or donate them or trash them. Did.
14. I will try to remove an item when I add an item to my house. Tried.
Misc.
15. I will continue to seek a job, full time or part time, even though I'm very discouraged about this. However, as my health improves, other jobs that I can't physically do now will be possible. I can do this and will. Did and suffered some crushing rejections. This one just about sunk me.
16. I will read 75 books this year. Oh, I thought the goal was 100. Well, did.
17. I will continue to read the New Testament and finish it this year. I will also read Psalms and Proverbs. Did. Read all three and most of the Old Testament.
18. I will pray daily and give thanks for my blessings. Mostly did.
19. I will remember that honesty can cause pain and remember that I can never completely know what another person is going through and thus should not judge. In other words, I will keep my mouth shut when my opinion hasn't been asked for -- and sometimes even when it has been. Slipped a few times, but mostly I did much better.
20. I will try to be more forgiving of myself and others. We're human and frail in many many ways. We all need a break. Did as best as I could.
Really, I did better on the list than I expected. Surprising. And pleasing.
GOALS FOR 2013
Writing
1. Finish and publish Murder by the Mile. It's past time.
2. Take up daily walking again. Got to do this for my health.
3. Participate in the 2013 National Novel Writing Month.
4. Blog at least one a week on three of my blogs.
Health
1. Walk at least three times a week.
2. Watch the diet and concentrate on more veggies and low carb foods, even when I eat out.
3. Go to the doctor for a check up and schedule a scope. Also, go to a dentist.
4. Seek more holistic information.
Declutter
1. Give 50 books to the local library or to friends.
2. Remove 50 items from my closets and donate or discard as needed.
3. Organize my files and discard and shred old financial records as needed.
4. Donate or discard kitchen pots never used.
Employment
1. Keep my eyes open for possibilities.
2. Look into going back to college.
3. See if Continuing Education would let me teach some poetry classes again.
4. Pursue more contacts on Linked In.
Publishing
1. Publish three books from Many Rivers Harbor.
2. Publish Many Rivers Harbor's first traditional book. Probably a poetry book. More on this as it develops.
3. Continue to seek new clients.
4. Purchase ISBNs for MRH so that it shows as the publisher rather than Lulu or Amazon.
Misc.
1. Pray daily and give thanks for my blessings.
2. Remember that honesty can cause pain and I can never completely know what another person is going through and thus should not judge.
3. I will try to be more forgiving of myself and others. We all need a break.
4. Battle the black dog until it whimpers to see me.
Well, that seems to be a good lists of goals. I hope we all reach our goals,or if not, we achieve other things that are even better. Happy New Year and Many Blessings on You and Yours!
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
2013!
You know the drill!
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Thursday, December 27, 2012
My first theme song for 2013
The song is really speaking to me, especially after a pep talk today from my friend Stacy.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
40 percent off!
(Here's the fine print from Lulu: Enter the coupon code listed above at checkout to redeem this promotion. Sorry, but this offer is only valid in US Dollars and cannot be applied to previous orders. You can only use this code once per account, and unfortunately you can't use this coupon in combination with other coupon codes. This great offer expires at 11:59 PM PST, so don't miss out! While very unlikely, we do reserve the right to change or revoke this offer at anytime, and of course we cannot offer this coupon where it is against the law to do so.)
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
"Gaudete"
Latin
Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virgine, gaudete!
Tempus adest gratiæ
Hoc quod optabamus,
Carmina lætitiæ
Devote reddamus.
Deus homo factus est
Natura mirante,
Mundus renovatus est
A Christo regnante.
Ezechielis porta
Clausa pertransitur,
Unde lux est orta
Salus invenitur.
Ergo nostra contio
Psallat iam in lustro;
Benedicat Domino:
Salus Regi nostro.
English
Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
(Out) Of the Virgin Mary — rejoice!
The time of grace has come —
what we have wished for,
songs of joy
Let us give back faithfully.
God has become man,
To the wonderment of Nature,
The world has been renewed
By the reigning Christ.
The closed gate of Ezekiel
Is passed through,
Whence the light is born,
Salvation is found.
Therefore let our gathering
Now sing in brightness
Let it give praise to the Lord:
Greeting to our King.
Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virgine, gaudete!
Tempus adest gratiæ
Hoc quod optabamus,
Carmina lætitiæ
Devote reddamus.
Deus homo factus est
Natura mirante,
Mundus renovatus est
A Christo regnante.
Ezechielis porta
Clausa pertransitur,
Unde lux est orta
Salus invenitur.
Ergo nostra contio
Psallat iam in lustro;
Benedicat Domino:
Salus Regi nostro.
English
Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
(Out) Of the Virgin Mary — rejoice!
The time of grace has come —
what we have wished for,
songs of joy
Let us give back faithfully.
God has become man,
To the wonderment of Nature,
The world has been renewed
By the reigning Christ.
The closed gate of Ezekiel
Is passed through,
Whence the light is born,
Salvation is found.
Therefore let our gathering
Now sing in brightness
Let it give praise to the Lord:
Greeting to our King.
Monday, December 24, 2012
An explanation of sorts
Recently someone at a Christmas gathering asked me how I consistently came up with these hilarious, intelligent, wise, heart-warming, inspiring, cheery and witty posts. (I'm just quoting.) I will tell you right now that I am simply gifted. If you buy that, then I will also sell you a few expired lottery tickets.
Truthfully I suspect my output -- such as it is -- is connected to the warped way I look at the world. My mind is given to literal fantasies, if you can follow that, but if not, don't give up. An example follows so calm down.
For instance, suppose someone tells me that his or her heart raced like mad. For most people, that would simply mean that the person speaking was excited. But my mind instantly imagines a heart riding on a horse, the reins held by its little veins and arteries as it spurs its horse to the finish line. Then I have to wonder what it's wearing its spurs on. And what weirdo would make the spurs for a heart, anyway? And spurs need boots ...
I can while away hours doing this, hours that I should be spending losing weight, cleaning my car, stalking Lucy Lawless, cataloging my belly lint collection, etc., all the fairly normal activities of someone who was dropped on his head just a few too many times when he was a baby by his jealous siblings, but that is another story and is neither here nor there, but somewhere around Albuquerque.
Another factor is that I like language, particularly funny words. Like halibut. Now, that is a funny word. Just say it over and over to yourself. Halibut, halibut, ha-li-but. Come on. You're not doing it. Halibut, halibut ... We're not going to continue until you do. Okay, that's better. Isn't that a great word? Tomorrow, say, "Merry Christmas and Happy New Halibut to you and yours!" Next week at work, just say, "Good halibut," instead of "Good morning," and when people ask you how you are, just answer, "Perfectly halibut." Your whole day will be filled with joy, topped off by getting a nice, white coat that will button in an delightfully odd way.
It also helps that we live in a funny world. Well, peculiar is probably the word I should use there, but funny works. You can find humor in most things non-Republican, and even Republicans have been known to crack a smile when an endangered species finally croaks. I find that you have to laugh at some things or you will spend all your time weeping and wailing. Frankly, sackcloth itches, and ashes only get in your eyes, and you can quote me if you are so inclined and wish to send me money since this post is copyrighted 2012.
As for the number of ideas, those come because I read a lot and am interested in almost everything that you can legally be interested in. Right now, I am reading a book on hyperspace, a Southern Sisters murder mystery, a computer book, a book on Biblical archaeology and a book on how to have a second date when the police got called on the first one. This gives me a lot of fodder for humor cannons.
I am also somewhat a klutz in the way that President Clinton was somewhat a liar. I can trip over lint in the carpet and have even stumbled due to the pressure of air molecules. This leads to those wonderful experiences that make great stories afterwards -- Remember the time I fell on the large nun who has holding her pet cat and she threw it in the midst of all those preschoolers who were eating chocolate ice cream? -- but are painful when they happen.
I also have the rare talent of being able to insert both of my feet in my mouth and occasionally have needed to borrow the feet of passing strangers just to fill up that cavernous space that persists in embarrassing me. And no, I will not print any examples. There are enough stories wandering around about me as is.
And finally it helps that my family is made up of such strongly individualistic people. Not only do we march to a different drummer, but we have often marched to an entirely different band than the rest of the world, a band made up of flutes, kazoos, tubas and perhaps a halibut or two.
From Return of the Floozy, Copyright 2012 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying without express prior written permission from the author and publisher. Thank you for reading.
Truthfully I suspect my output -- such as it is -- is connected to the warped way I look at the world. My mind is given to literal fantasies, if you can follow that, but if not, don't give up. An example follows so calm down.
For instance, suppose someone tells me that his or her heart raced like mad. For most people, that would simply mean that the person speaking was excited. But my mind instantly imagines a heart riding on a horse, the reins held by its little veins and arteries as it spurs its horse to the finish line. Then I have to wonder what it's wearing its spurs on. And what weirdo would make the spurs for a heart, anyway? And spurs need boots ...
I can while away hours doing this, hours that I should be spending losing weight, cleaning my car, stalking Lucy Lawless, cataloging my belly lint collection, etc., all the fairly normal activities of someone who was dropped on his head just a few too many times when he was a baby by his jealous siblings, but that is another story and is neither here nor there, but somewhere around Albuquerque.
Another factor is that I like language, particularly funny words. Like halibut. Now, that is a funny word. Just say it over and over to yourself. Halibut, halibut, ha-li-but. Come on. You're not doing it. Halibut, halibut ... We're not going to continue until you do. Okay, that's better. Isn't that a great word? Tomorrow, say, "Merry Christmas and Happy New Halibut to you and yours!" Next week at work, just say, "Good halibut," instead of "Good morning," and when people ask you how you are, just answer, "Perfectly halibut." Your whole day will be filled with joy, topped off by getting a nice, white coat that will button in an delightfully odd way.
It also helps that we live in a funny world. Well, peculiar is probably the word I should use there, but funny works. You can find humor in most things non-Republican, and even Republicans have been known to crack a smile when an endangered species finally croaks. I find that you have to laugh at some things or you will spend all your time weeping and wailing. Frankly, sackcloth itches, and ashes only get in your eyes, and you can quote me if you are so inclined and wish to send me money since this post is copyrighted 2012.
As for the number of ideas, those come because I read a lot and am interested in almost everything that you can legally be interested in. Right now, I am reading a book on hyperspace, a Southern Sisters murder mystery, a computer book, a book on Biblical archaeology and a book on how to have a second date when the police got called on the first one. This gives me a lot of fodder for humor cannons.
I am also somewhat a klutz in the way that President Clinton was somewhat a liar. I can trip over lint in the carpet and have even stumbled due to the pressure of air molecules. This leads to those wonderful experiences that make great stories afterwards -- Remember the time I fell on the large nun who has holding her pet cat and she threw it in the midst of all those preschoolers who were eating chocolate ice cream? -- but are painful when they happen.
I also have the rare talent of being able to insert both of my feet in my mouth and occasionally have needed to borrow the feet of passing strangers just to fill up that cavernous space that persists in embarrassing me. And no, I will not print any examples. There are enough stories wandering around about me as is.
And finally it helps that my family is made up of such strongly individualistic people. Not only do we march to a different drummer, but we have often marched to an entirely different band than the rest of the world, a band made up of flutes, kazoos, tubas and perhaps a halibut or two.
From Return of the Floozy, Copyright 2012 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying without express prior written permission from the author and publisher. Thank you for reading.
Merry Christmas!
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Sunday, December 23, 2012
Back
Sorry I've been away. Always assuming anyone still reads Harbor Street. Hard to tell. This is the first year since 2002 that I haven't posted any Christmas Celebration posts, but no one has mentioned it to me. Reminds me of how I'd work so hard to create a family calendar each year, but when I got ill one holiday and didn't make it, not one family member asked about it. The gift I thought was so valued turned out not to be, so I never made another one. To this day, no one has ever asked me why I stopped making them.
It's been a wild year, filled with both tragic and joyous events. And it was the year that supposedly the Mayans predicted would be the End of Days. Or not. The world was supposed to end December 21, but of course, it didn't. We're still here.
We have this fascination about ancient civilizations and often attribute them with scientific and mystic knowledge beyond ours. We should ask that if they were so awesomely powerful, why aren't they around now? Of course, their descendants exist, but none of them hold the power their ancestors did. I guess. After all, our modern appliances and gadgets would seem very god-like to such ancient peoples.
Anyway, I'm back. The world's still here. All our problems and joys remain. We still remain. And that's a good thing.
It's been a wild year, filled with both tragic and joyous events. And it was the year that supposedly the Mayans predicted would be the End of Days. Or not. The world was supposed to end December 21, but of course, it didn't. We're still here.
We have this fascination about ancient civilizations and often attribute them with scientific and mystic knowledge beyond ours. We should ask that if they were so awesomely powerful, why aren't they around now? Of course, their descendants exist, but none of them hold the power their ancestors did. I guess. After all, our modern appliances and gadgets would seem very god-like to such ancient peoples.
Anyway, I'm back. The world's still here. All our problems and joys remain. We still remain. And that's a good thing.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Review: Warpaint
Warpaint by author Holly Lisle continues the story began in Hunting the Corrigan's Blood, which is Cadence Drake's quest to rid the universe of vampires.This time the stakes are much larger; the vampire plague is spreading at a terrifying rate. This may be humanity's final days as a free species. Darkout is the term for this extinction event, and Cadence and a brave group of friends throw themselves against the rising tide.
This is not a mindless vampire adventure story. Cadence and her team have to be wise, clever, and fast to stop Darkout. Many of their solutions are twisty and surprising.
I especially enjoyed the discussion and debate about their actions. It's rare to find characters who truly question their actions and the possible repercussions. Cadence and the team read as real people and behave accordingly.
Hints of a possible future romance are in this story, but the story mostly focuses on this fight to the death -- or maybe fight to the undeath. Cadence is carrying a heavy burden, and her desire for vengeance propels her toward a horrifying choice.
Buy this book. Read this book. You'll be pleased.
Disclosure: I received an advance PDF copy of this book.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Thursday, December 13, 2012
You're invited!
The second book signing for Tales of Bethlehem by Stephen B. Bagley is today (Thursday, Dec. 13) at the Ada Public Library, 4:30-6:30 p.m. There will be cookies, appreciation prizes, registration for a drawing for more than $100 of books and merchandise, and, of course, books, books, and more books!
Here's what's in the drawing:
EndlesS by Stephen B. Bagley,
On Target: Devotions for Modern Life by Kelley Benson,
Floozy & Other Stories by Stephen B. Bagley,
Fashion reading glasses with metal case from Dr James Kevin Cunningham of your Ada Vision Source,
Murder by the Acre (Second Edition) by Stephen B. Bagley,
Creations 2012 by Ada Writers,
Norman Rockwell 2013 Calendar from State Farm,
Murder by the Acre kitchen magnet,
Music sampler CD from Christian artist Doug Matlock,
Europa pocket notebook by Eccolo,
Designer bookmarks,
Christmas mug with salt water taffy,
Water bottle with pens from Vision Bank inside,
CD of Christmas music,
and chocolate kisses!
Here's what's in the drawing:
EndlesS by Stephen B. Bagley,
On Target: Devotions for Modern Life by Kelley Benson,
Floozy & Other Stories by Stephen B. Bagley,
Fashion reading glasses with metal case from Dr James Kevin Cunningham of your Ada Vision Source,
Murder by the Acre (Second Edition) by Stephen B. Bagley,
Creations 2012 by Ada Writers,
Norman Rockwell 2013 Calendar from State Farm,
Murder by the Acre kitchen magnet,
Music sampler CD from Christian artist Doug Matlock,
Europa pocket notebook by Eccolo,
Designer bookmarks,
Christmas mug with salt water taffy,
Water bottle with pens from Vision Bank inside,
CD of Christmas music,
and chocolate kisses!
Thursday, December 06, 2012
Reception for TFB
Stephen B. Bagley at the reception and book signing for Tales from Bethlehem held November 29 at Karen's Art & Framing, 108 East Main, Ada.
Saturday, December 01, 2012
Book signing!
Here's the story that my local paper ran on the upcoming book signing for Tales from Bethlehem at the Ada Public Library, Thursday, Dec. 13, from 4:30-6:30 p.m. There will be table prizes, registration for a drawing for more than $100 in books and merchandise, Christmas cookies, and books! What more could you need?
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