Sunday, October 4, 2015

No, I'm Not Drunk...

     So… this is my third attempt at doing a blog for this week. You would have thought I was either drunk or on drugs after reading the first one. Hell, I was trying to remember if I’d been drinking when I wrote it. No, I hadn’t. The second one… well, it started to sound like a rant, which is not at all what I had intended. Maybe I’ll go back to it later and see where I went wrong.
     In the meantime…
     What’s up, y’all? I’ve had an interesting week. I got some solid writing done, which is a good thing. I was able to help a few people out, one of which was my friend John. As I posted on FB, his partner had a medical procedure done and ended up stuck in the hospital, so I got to go and feed horses and watch the very hot farrier shoe a horse. Nothing like a watching a very handsome man bent over in front of you. And yes, he has a very fine… well pretty much everything. I’ve always been a sucker for dark hair and bright blue eyes.
     As of this morning, the temperature is below 70F! Yay! It’s about time. I’m really over the hot and sticky summer weather. Maybe I’ll be able to go out and play in the dirt some more now that it is cooler. I hope it lasts. I have all kinds of fun things planned for the flower beds!

     I spent quite a bit of time doing some research. I think I’ll be doing a blog post on that later. (It was the one that started to sound like a rant.) At any rate, it was both interesting and disturbing. At least to me it was. I’m still shaking my head.
     Now I would like to take a few moments to thank everyone who has purchased My Hero, the audiobook. Its release has really breathed new life into this story. Thanks to Jared Bradford for his brilliant narration. It was his work that finally got me over the big hump to getting My Hero: The Olympian finished. It still astounds me that people actually like my work.
Available on Amazon and Audible

     What else…
     I spoke to a friend of mine last week. This is a friend that I’ve known most of my life. We can go months without talking and still pick right back up like we’d seen each other yesterday. There are things that we’ve done and experienced together that… well I’m just glad we weren’t arrested… or killed. But then I can say the same thing about my sister!
     Anyway, he asked how the writing was going. I told him about the last book, what I had going on, meaning the next few books. About the book convention, Rainbow Con, that I’d gone to. That’s when he stopped me.
     “You? You did a panel?” You see, I’ve always been pretty much a recluse. Okay, there were the good ol’ days back in the early 80’s when I was out every night partying my butt off. I was a bit of a wild child in my young adulthood. After that… yeah, I pulled back… a lot.
     The first GRL that I attended in Atlanta nearly scared me to death. I seriously thought I was going to have another heart attack, it was that bad. Even in Chicago, I was terrified. In the evenings I stayed in my room, only attending one evening function. Of course I did have the excuse of my feet killing me from all that walking, but in truth, I could have taken drugs and gotten through it.
     No, I really don’t mind being alone. I prefer my quiet life, secluded from prying eyes. I do enjoy having houseguests however. The one on one time is preferable to me over the big crowds and wild parties that some of the book cons can produce. This also goes back to that blog that I scraped, the one I mentioned earlier.
     The biggest problem I have with my solitary life is I hate trying to cook for just myself. It really is a royal pain in the ass. Fresh produce is the biggest problem. It’s very hard to eat it all before it goes bad. Then there is the issue of cooking something and then getting sick of it after the third meal. Yes, I can freeze portions of it, but at some point, you have to eat it. I don’t have a separate freezer and that stuff takes up space. So that is my biggest complaint about living alone.

     Of course my sister hates it. My living alone that is. She worries. I think she’s afraid that I’ll fall over from another heart attack, fall off a ladder, or some other disaster and no one will find me before I’m good and truly ripe. I have to admit, that is a bit of a concern, but I figure I’m a bit young for be shipped off to the old folks home. I’m still kicking it pretty good. Besides, my friend John checks in with me on a daily basis, so there is a bit of a safety net there.
     Anyway, my friend was really surprised that I would actually get up in front of people and talk and take questions. “That is so unlike you.” Now my sister is thrilled… to some extent. She said the biggest bonus is that she gets to see photos of me, something I’ve avoided for years. People are hard pressed to find a photo of me from age thirty through fifty. Even then, from age twenty-five to thirty, there are very few. I think my sister may have a couple, but other than that…next to none. No, I still don’t enjoy it, but I’ve resolved to the fact that it is just part of the job and I have to deal with it. I always look like a fat cow.

     Let’s see… Oh…
     I was thinking of my friend Julie this week. This time last year she was busy making hats and scarfs for kids who were living on the streets of Chicago. With winter fast approaching, I give thought to those who won’t have a hot meal, a warm place to sleep and inadequate winter clothing. This problem is rampant in the young LGBT community. Did you know that the majority of youth living on the streets are gay?
     In many of the major cities around the world, there are centers that help these young people. Check them out. I’m sure that many of you may have old coats, scarves and such that you don’t use. Perhaps think about donating them? I plan to go through my closet today and ship off some of the ones I don’t use anymore. How ‘bout you?
     I guess that’s about all I’ve got for this week.

Anyone know who this is?


  1. I'm so excited about the sequel of My hero! Can't wait to read it :)

  2. Thank you Max for always remembering the forgotten kids.