Tag: childhood

Everyologist

When I was little, I wanted to be an “everyologist.” I would be an expert in everything – history and science and books and everything.

Little kids can be experts in everything, because everything is within easy reach.

I got older, and couldn’t do everything, so I decided I should focus on “most things.”

Then I got a bit more older, and decided I should focus on “the most important things.”

But I still dabble in everyology on the side.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

My Best School Teacher

Who was your most influential teacher? Why?

Our best teachers are the ones who push us to our limits. For me, that was Mrs. Wall, 9th grade English.

A summer reading assignment of The Once and Future King by T. H. White. Weekly essays. In-depth dissections of grammatical structure in complex sentences. Reading plays out loud in class. And never, ever letting up on improving our writing skills. It was a hard, hard class for everyone in it. I felt exhausted at the end of every week. Heck, the weekends, too.

And it was the best thing that ever happened to me in school. I had always loved reading, and I was already toying with the idea of becoming a writer, but Mrs. Wall’s class was what made me into a writer. She instilled the modicum of discipline and grit in me that is needed to write a book; to write every day, revise, and take criticism to heart.

I don’t know where she is now, or if she is even still alive, but my thanks to Mrs. Wall and the misery she subjected me to, because her lessons got me through the rest of high school, through college, and are still with me now.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.


“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

The Computers of Yesteryear

Write about your first computer.

The first time I ever used a computer was back in the ancient days of dial-up, GeoCities and flip phones. My parents owned a word processor. No, not a computer. A word processor. As in, an electronic box with a blank, black screen on which you could type sentences and do nothing else. No programs, no Internet, no background wallpaper. This was a simpler time.

So, there I was, a kid not even in the double digits who thought he was going to write his first novel. Never got past the second page, of course. Or I was writing backstories for my action figures and posting them on my bedroom corkboard. Either way, those were the days when I first began cutting my teeth as a writer.

My first personal computer, as in the first I actually owned, was a bigtime birthday gift from my parents. I was in sixth grade, I think. It was a ponderous contraption. Computers weren’t flat back then. Like the word processor, it was a large box filled with many arcane electronic secrets. More importantly, it came with a tower, which was the actual device doing all the processing, because these were the days when the average PC couldn’t contain all that delicious data in just one piece. It needed a second box to actually run the data, and mine needed a whole desk cabinet to be kept in.

And then there were floppy discs and compact discs. Old PCs used to have slots into which you slid the CD or floppy in order to access them. Do computers even still have slots anymore? I have no idea. What with streaming and online gaming and the Internet in general, I doubt they’re needed anymore.

Those were the days. I’m not sure what kind of days, exactly, but those were them. Just turning on a computer felt like an amazing feat accomplished. Before digital phones and instant online access, personal computers were lighthouses of knowledge and wonder. Nowadays, computers are rather mundane and even old-fashioned. But I remember.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

To Be Childlike, Not Childish

What does it mean to be a kid at heart?

Have you ever met someone who was not only physically old, but acted old? “Woe is me, I’m so aged. I can’t do anything anymore, and I must spend my days lamenting my remaining existence.” They’re not exactly fun to be around.

They’re kind of like Charlie’s parents from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, having given up and lying in bed all day.

Of course, then Grandpa Joe actually stands up, and this happens.

Being a kid at heart means never losing the spark of hope, creativity and optimism that permeates childhood. Everything is new, everything is exciting, and everything is worth running towards.

To be childlike, not childish. Anyone of any age can be childish. That’s the dark side of childhood: the whining, the screaming, the self-pity, the selfish delusion that everything exists to serve and coddle you.

To be childlike, though, encompasses the positives of childhood: an enjoyment of life, able to see the good and the fun in it, to charge into any situation and give it your all while laughing and smiling. Honest laughter. Sincere smiles. That strange concept of unironic, sarcasm-free fun that we seem to lose as adults. Adults like to analyze their existence. Kids just are.

In short, to be a kid at heart means to sincerely enjoy life, with all its ups and downs. To live life and embrace its challenges, its triumphs and all the people in it. To not lie in bed all day, but get out and breathe the fresh air.

Even those who have been hampered by age and injury can soak in the sun, if they so choose, rather than grumbling in the dark.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

The Moment I Knew I Had Grown Up Whether I Wanted to or Not

When was the first time you really felt like a grown-up?

Growing up is a tough thing. We don’t leave childhood behind. It simply skips away, leaving us behind. And we find ourselves in the world of grown-ups. We certainly do gain quite a few things as adults, though: Responsibilities, duties, jobs, bills …

But at what point does it hit home that we’ve grown up? Is it a slow, dawning realization, or a thunderbolt to the head?

I first felt the pangs of adulthood when I moved to college. I had never lived apart from my parents before. Well, there was that one week in summer school, but that didn’t really count. Now, I was in the car with my parents going to a campus miles away from home and with the full knowledge that I wouldn’t be coming back with them.

The moment I made that realization was the moment that I knew things were Different™. There was no going back to childhood ways. I was an adult. I would be living as an adult. That made me a little excited, a lot nervous, and very, very giddy.

You ever have that dream where you’re in freefall? And your whole body tingles with such severe giddiness that you feel like it will overwhelm you? That’s how I felt when I arrived at my college. I was falling, falling, falling, all the way down. The only thing keeping me from curling up into a ball of panic was the certainty that the fall would end with me hitting the ground standing upright. Everything was in order, my room was rented, my classes were scheduled, and my parents were still just a phone call away. I wasn’t going to fall forever.

And so I grew up. No more childhood games, just the memories of them. Big adult games, like Studying for the Test, Learning to Budget and Managing My Own Bedtime. Adulthood was upon me.

Of course, once I graduated and entered the Real World, I realized that college wasn’t a very grown-up place after all, but that’s a story for another time.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

TV and Nostalgia

What TV shows did you watch as a kid?

Nostalgia gets a bad rap for being a blindfold that prevents us from perceiving hard truths about our childhoods. That can be true, but let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater. I have very fond memories of my childhood that nostalgia helps keep alive, and that includes the TV shows I watched. Particularly the animated ones.

I spent many evenings with my dad watching some of our favorite cartoons: Justice League, X-Men Evolution, Samurai Jack, Teen Titans. And also one Transformers show that I can’t remember the name of (and wasn’t really all that good, but it was in the same time block, so we watched it anyway).

It was very cozy, watching TV with my dad. Television is great entertainment, but it’s somehow more meaningful when enjoyed with others. I recall those days with no small amount of wistfulness. Simpler times, for him and for me.

It’s strange how as children we take things for granted that we yearn to have back now. Saturday morning cartoons were just part of the routine. They weren’t a golden age of our lives, a precious memory to hold near and dear to our hearts. They were just … there. Fun, sure, but not precious. Not yet, anyway.

And if that’s the case, nostalgia possesses at least one positive quality: It preserves our best memories.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

The Memories of Childhood

I remember the smell of freshly baked peanut butter cookies in the kitchen wafting like a warm summer breeze. I remember how they crumbled in my hand as I ate them, little bits of delicious debris, and how there were always enough to last a week or more. I plucked them out of the Tupperware container one by one, day by day, a child’s guilty pleasure.

I remember the sound of my father mowing the lawn, a sawing roar yet somehow comforting. I remember the pungent odor of freshly cut grass coming through my open window, and I remember him manhandling the lawnmower up the steep hill in our backyard.

I remember walking through the forest park, the pine needles blanketing the ground like slivers of gold. I remember the tall trees that shaded me, and the baseball diamond at the park’s edge, where my parents and I used to buy hot dogs before returning home.

I remember the day after I had my wisdom teeth removed. My mind was a drowsy blur from anesthetics. I remember how my numb jaw felt like a lump of dead meat that didn’t hurt even when I pinched hard. I held a bag of frozen peas against it when the feeling and the pain started coming back.

I remember when I first became a writer. My parents owned a word processor, and I used it to write stories about my action figures. I printed them out and hung them on my wall, so proud of my work. I started my first novel, and never got past the fifth page. I remember getting my first computer, a great, gray blocky thing, and using it to write new stories. A child’s fancies that watered a ripe imagination.

I remember much, much more. More than could ever be committed to blog or paper. My childhood is over. The memories endure.

***

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Thoughts on The Giving Tree

Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?

I can’t say it was my favorite book as a child – I have too many of those to choose just one – but I remember The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein with fondness. A sweet story of self-sacrifice, though as an adult I realize that it is controversial. But most stories are, especially when we pry them open, dissect them, and boil them down.

Maybe I’m just a sentimentalist who likes stories that are bittersweet. Maybe I’m naive. Or maybe I never perceived the concept that the boy was exploiting the tree because I grew up in a family where I was taught to say “please” and “thank you” and learned about responsibility. Maybe a story’s interpretation depends on the context of the reader’s life and experiences. We all see something different.

Either way, I liked the story. I was young and innocent and hadn’t received a college education yet, so I saw only good in it.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Nostalgia Courtesy of a Snickers Bar

What is your favorite candy?

Food is such a nostalgic thing. Memories of my favorites conjure up childhood memories of family outings and fun with friends. I get warm fuzzies thinking of my mother’s old cooking, or a particularly memorable birthday party, or that one time I was allowed to have a pizza when my parents left me home alone one night. And, of course, the memory of favorite candies.

Mine are Snickers. Nuts and caramel covered in chocolate. Not airy fluff like 3 Musketeers and with more texture than a Kit Kat, Snickers bars are the perfect blend of dense, crunchy, tasty and buttery smooth.

I don’t eat them much anymore, but I remember when I was young that every time I went with my parents on our monthly shopping trip to the navy exchange I would get a Snickers from the candy kiosk before check out. I had to finish it before getting back in the car, or I’d get chocolate stains all over the seat.

Snickers isn’t just a favorite candy. It’s a catalyst for fond memories. I can recall nearly every part of that store: the maze of grocery aisles; the home and garden section with kitchen supplies and clothes and magazines and knick knacks; the garden greenhouse, which had a fun corner where they kept the action figures and other toys; the tiny food court where we occasionally grabbed McDonald’s (and where I confirmed that McDonald’s will never be as good as Burger King).

I haven’t thought about any of this in a long time. Food really is a key to nostalgia’s lock. Good days long gone, but readily remembered with a little gastronomic prompting. I miss them.

***

My latest book, The Trickster’s Lament, is currently available on Amazon in both Kindle and paperback format.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Kid at Heart

What does it mean to be a kid at heart?

Probably not screaming when you don’t get dessert and walking into the house with mud covering your shoes.

“Kid at heart” is one of those curious expressions we use and don’t give much thought to. There’s a general consensus that everyone knows what it means, but do we really know what it actually means? Kids are selfish, loud, noisy, sometimes smelly, and generally very expensive. They are also seen as innocent, full of potential, and the future of civilization. Which may or may not be true (especially that part about innocence).

So, what does it mean to be a “kid at heart?” Perhaps it simply means to not let go of youthful vigor and enthusiasm. To not be jaded, as kids so rarely are, and to see the world as something fresh and new every day, as kids so often do. Kids are as flawed as adults, so I don’t think we should see childhood as a perfect little utopia long lost, but rather as a time when we were willing to have a little more joy in our lives and a little more willingness to learn.

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.