Author: afthead

What’s the Opposite of Prophesy?

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized8 Comments

Sunday the Glimmer Train August Short Story Award for New Writers was announced.  I had high hopes for my short story The Fisherman.  As I knew from my status, I didn’t win.  As I learned Thursday, with my excellent web research skills, I did not make the top 25.  Finally I learned, from the official Glimmer Train announcement, that I didn’t even make the honorable mention list.  My first fiction submission and I got nothing.  Crap.  My prophetic dream was the opposite of what I had hoped.  Everyone was right.  You don’t get published the first time.  What a bummer.

I was disappointed, until my husband asked a very important question:

“How did they decide the winner?” asked Mr. Afthead

“Well, these two sisters run the literary magazine, so they decided.” I responded.

“That seems awfully arbitrary.”

He was right.  Two women didn’t like my story.  Yes, it was two women who happen to have the power to publish, but it was just two people.  His words jolted me into remembering why I wrote the story in the first place, and why I wanted to get it out there.  I love that story, and the only way for me to share it with people is to write it down, be brave and send it into the world.  With my first draft something amazing happened.  The story developed a story of it’s own when others read it.  Different people liked parts that other people hated.  Some people thought it was creepy.  Another blogger, On the Lamb Design, tied it to a real life experience, and the similarities are haunting.  Overall the response was not just positive, but thought provoking.

My favorite reaction was my husband’s.  I gave him a copy of a later draft of the story and asked him to read it.  When he finished we had the following discussion:

“This is good,” he said.  “Where did you get it.”

“I wrote it.”

“Reallly?  I thought it was by a real writer.  I like how The Fisherman made the dad a better dad.”

Okay, first of all my husband thought a “real writer” was the story’s author.  Then, he found a story in my words that I never intended.  I didn’t mean for The Fisherman to make the father a better dad, but when my husband found that meaning I saw it too.  When I write and share, something magical happens.  I agree completely with my writing guru, Stephen King, when he says that the reading/writing bond is telepathy.  I write something, and you read it through your lens, and we share a common vision together.  Sometimes our lenses are the same, but sometimes one or the other distorts the story and it changes.  To understand how others find different meaning in my words makes me want to write and read more.

So I’m disappointed that two sisters didn’t like my story, but I’m still going to write, and I’m still going to share, and I’m still going to submit.  This is magic stuff happening, and I’m not about to let it go.

Quantifying Starburst Love

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized7 Comments

Mr. Afthead has an elaborate method for scoring Starburst packages, and given that yesterday was Halloween, I thought I’d share it with you so you and your children can appropriately quantify their candy loot.  It works best on the two packs you see this time of year.  Follow close.  The math is tricky.

Mr. Afthead’s Algorithm

Pink=4

Red=3

Orange=2

Yellow=1

To determine the Mr. Afthead score you just multiply the score of each color by the number of square candies of that color in the package.  Example scoring of the aforementioned Halloween two pack yields two pinks as a perfect 8 and two yellows as an inedible 2.

I get occasional texts and emails from him that simply say, “I got an 8,” and I know exactly what he means.  However, if I text him the same message the candy in my pack is completely different.

Mrs. Afthead’s Algorithm

Red=4

Orange=3

Yellow=2

Pink=1

In reality, I like pinks, but since both Mr. Afthead and our daughter L-O-V-E pinks, I do not eat them.  I’m am that kind of awesome mother and wife. An 8 to me is perfect double red.  Though most of the Starbursts I enjoy are the rejected yellows.

“Wait!” you say, “I want my own scoring algorithm.  I love Oranges, Yellows, Pinks but hate Reds.”  Oh my friend, no problem.  You can set up your own scoring system!

Anyone’s Starburst Algorithm

Red = r

Orange = o

Pink = p

Yellow = y

Where r, o, p, and y all must equal a value from 1-4 where 4 is the color you enjoy the most and 1 is the color you barely tolerate.  In the above, no value can be duplicated.  (Yes, I know, I like yellows and oranges about the same, but for the algorithm to work you have to pick one over the other.)  To score, multiply the number of each Starburst obtained by the score for that color, then add up all the scores for each color for your total score.  If you had 10 two-packs of Starburst you could quantify a total value of your entire candy haul or provide an average score across all your packages.  The average score is easier to compare, because otherwise you need to provide the number of candies.  Eight yellows (score = 8, average =1) and two pinks (score = 8, average = 4) provide the same score but very different experiences to Mr. Afthead.

Now, go forth and quantify your Starbursts!  Enjoy knowing that when someone exclaims, “Yes, an 8!” when they tear into a Halloween treat you may not know what colors they got, but you know that it is their own personal best Starburst package.

Happy calculating!

Finish Something: No Glimmer of Hope

On By aftheadIn finish something8 Comments

Sometime this afternoon the status on my submission to Glimmer Train went from “In Process” to “Complete” which means they aren’t going to publish my story.  Winners were to be notified this week and my hopes were high when I was still “In Process” yesterday.  Sadly, I am not a prognosticator, but just a dreamer.  Am I disappointed?  A little bit, but I have to admit I had a lot of fun the past week imagining the scenarios:  receiving the e-mail telling me that I was actually going to be a real live published writer, telling my friends and family the wonderful news, and seeing my story in print.  Having something to be excited about is fun, even when it doesn’t turn out the way you want.  (Also, a little teeny tiny bit of me is still hoping I make the top 25 list even if they aren’t publishing my story.  I’ll have to wait for November 1st for that list.)

Now that I know, I can move on to submit my short story, The Fisherman, to the next two contests I found: The Master’s Review Fall Fiction Contest and The Writer’s Digest Short Short Story Contest.  First thing to do?  Fixed my pronoun agreement error in the first paragraph.  Sheesh, what a rookie!

The Master’s Review wants “strange, scary, disturbing and weird” from emerging writers.  The Fisherman nudges into all of these categories, so is a good fit.  However, they accept up to 7,000 words and at 1,242 words my story is a sliver of the length limit.  That said, finalists will be announced November 15th, so I’ll immediately have something to be excited about again.  Yippee!

Writer’s Digest wants a short short story with a limit of 1,500 words.  I make that cut off length with ease.  It’s an open competition though, so it’s me versus the world of published and established writers.  They award through twenty-fifth place.  This closes November 16th, so I’ll have one day after the Master’s Review deadline to submit here.  The Master’s Review accepts simultaneous submissions, but I don’t think Writer’s Digest does.  (I’m not sure, because Writer’s Digest has a lots of pages of rules.)

I’ve got a plan!  I hope someday I write another short story that I feel is a fit for Glimmer Train.  I enjoy reading the stories they publish and would love to be able to say I was featured on their pages.  Someday…

7-7-7 Challenge

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized9 Comments

Seventeen.  I have seventeen draft blog posts.  Some of them are deep and need time and effort to covey what I really want to say.  Some of them need a picture.  One needs some graphs.  One needs me to give a present first.  The blog posts are stacking up and I’m feeling drowned by the bits left to finish them off.

Ta da!  One of my favorite bloggers, A Funny Thing Happened When I was Learning Myself to the rescue!   She nominated me for the 7-7-7 challenge, which I love!  Thank you!  Here are the rules:

Go to the 7th page of my work in progress. Find the 7th sentence on that page, then paste the following 7 sentences into my blog post. Finally, select 7 other writers for the challenge.  It does not have to be fiction, I am interested in reading anything you’ve got!

What?!?!  How fun is this?  Since I have two works in progress over seven pages, I’m sharing them both.  From my first, yet to be completed, nameless novel:

Ingrid gasped, “Oh no, we use nothing but organic, free range eggs in this household.”

“Joke mom” Grant said and sat down on the dove grey love seat in the living room.  Anna joined him, and set Ingrid’s cup of non-alcoholic eggnog on a silver coaster.  Anna watched Ingrid as she took a sip of Anna’s eggnog.  What on earth was going on?  Ingrid was a germaphobe and she was drinking from a cup with a smear of Anna’s lipstick on the edge.

“So, what news do you have for us?” Ingrid asked and raised her eyebrows at them.

The second 7-7-7 series comes from my completed novel, Hallejulah.

Golden, grey and silver buildings lined the street in a variety of shapes and sizes.  There were Tudors next to low rise apartment buildings next to mansions; yet the street did not look odd with all the conflicting styles.  There was a gentle breeze and he could hear the leaves rustling in the trees.  No one walked the streets.  It was quiet.

“Welcome to the residential sector,” Petra said. “Here you will find all the residents of Heaven, and each new member is assigned living quarters based on their soul characteristics.”

Now for my seven nominees.  It appears as though my nominator and I share many favorite blogs, but there are a few I enjoy that didn’t make her list.  I’m leading with my “Hanna” derivative sisters.

  1. JoHanna Massey
  2. Proofreader Hannah
  3. K E Garland
  4. Spontaneous Whimsey or Socrates Underground (It’s the same author on both blogs!  So sneaky!)
  5. Alexand Knits – She’s mostly a knitter, so maybe she’ll provide us with a picture of the seventh stitch on the seventh row of some knitted object.
  6. Duck and Cover
  7. Amie Writes – who hasn’t been writing much and I miss her!

Also, a shout out to Mom Who Runs, who nominated my nominator.  Gotta love the blogging community!

An Ocean at the End of the Lane: Should You Read or Listen?

On By aftheadIn Read or Listen2 Comments

My weekly post to help you decide the best format to enjoy a book.  Without further ado:

Should you read or listen to An Ocean at the End of the Lane, by Neil Gaiman?

The Afthead Summary:

When I went to see my BFF Neil Gaiman speak a few months ago, he told the story about how An Ocean at the End of the Lane came into being.  it was an accident.  It wasn’t supposed to be a novel, but the story just kept going, and when it was done he called his publisher to tell him/her that he’d accidentally written a novel.  I am in awe.

I have to admit when I first read this book, I didn’t really dig it.   It’s the story of a man who has returned to the home of his youth and finds the memories of a magical and horrible event in his childhood.  It is Neil Gaiman through and through: succinctly told with beautiful imagery, a dark story, unexpected twists and turns, but I didn’t initially love it.

Read:

I read the novel first and it didn’t capture me.  The main character kind of reminded me of the boy in Stardust, without the bravery or the adventure behind him.  His sister is nasty, his mom is present but absent, his dad is just evil, and the family is on the brink of disaster.  Their finances are a mess and they have to let out a bedroom in their house to make ends meet which is where the problems begin.  The sister’s nastiness pales in comparison to the housekeeper they hire and life goes beyond downhill from there.  The character between utter disaster and the protagonist is an eleven year old girl.  It’s a dark book from start to end.

Listen:

Normally when I’m as ambivalent about a book as this one I don’t bother to get the audiobook, but Neil Gaiman reads it and I really love listening to him.  In an ideal world I would have him following me around day and night narrating my live in his soft fluid voice.  “Johanna wakes up late, again.  She burrows her head into her cat trying to drown out the hypnotic voice of Neil Gaiman, but alas he can not be snoozed.”  I could deal with tragedy, bad news, and anger so much more effectively if it were delivered by Mr. Gaiman.  But I digress….

There is a scene where the boy pulls a worm out of his foot, and I almost had to stop my car and hug myself to alleviate the full body heebie jeebies.  The whole book was like that in the best way possible.  I sat in my parking garage at work for an awkward amount of time each morning, just trying to get to place where I could stop listening.  The evil people were so evil.  The boy was so much less blah and so much more innocent  and afraid when read through Gaiman’s interpretation.  The ending was so poignant and heart wrenching.  I loved it.

Recommendation:

Listen

I really love Gaiman’s audiobooks.  If you get a chance, and the idea of this one doesn’t excite you, try M is for Magic, Stardust and American Gods (not read by Gaiman.)

Dream or Prophesy?

On By aftheadIn Fiction3 Comments

On September 13th I had a dream.  (Yes, I know, I hate hearing about other people’s dreams too.  There’s a point.  I’ll be quick.)  I’m holding in my hands a book, well, not quite a book.  It’s papers with book-like organization and book like shape and it has my story in it and pictures of me.  Not quite my story, there are differences, but my story and weird pictures I don’t ever remember being taken, but they are of me.  I flip through the unbound pages to the cover.  Glimmer Train.  “Oh,” a woman’s voice says, “You aren’t supposed to see that yet.”  The story is The Fisherman, which I submit to Glimmer Train for their Short Story Award for New Writers award the end of August.  In my dream I saw my story in the magazine.

I have read countless articles and books on writing.  Get it out there, they all say.  Just keep submitting, they all say.  Then they always say, “I didn’t even remember I had such-and-such story out there, when I found out I got published.”  Okay, I know I’m a newbie, and I know this is my first submission but WHAT?!?!  I’m going crazy here.  I have a full time job, I’m a mom, I’m fostering two kittens from the animal shelter, I’m coaching my daughter’s soccer team and I still check my e-mail several times a day to see if I’ve heard from Glimmer Train yet.  Are these other writers beings with hearts and souls of stone, or am I just nuts?

It’s kind of fun.  The site says, “Winners will be contacted directly the week before the public announcement in our bulletins” and the bulletin is due out November 1st so the longer I don’t hear something the more giddy and butterfly-stomachy I feel.  Sixteen days….but if I don’t hear in nine days is that good news by default?  *flutter flutter*  Then I tell myself, “They just moved to a new computer system.  You know how that goes.  It’s what you do for a living.  They are probably just doing a batch update in the old system and that’s why you don’t know yet.”  *flutter flutter*

I’m trying to keep my rose colored glasses on.  I know the odds are slim.  I know they get tons of submissions.  I know no one gets published on their first submission.  Why did I have to be the one who submit a story when they got a new computer system?  But I haven’t heard anything yet so the excitement builds.

They probably just lost it.  It’s stuck in some bit or byte and they don’t even know it’s there.  November 1st will come and go and I won’t hear anything, and I’ll miss my chance to submit to the Writer’s Digest competition I’m eyeing.  I’ll be that awkward whiny person who e-mails them, “Uh, did you ever read my story?”

Gasp.  Maybe they like it.  Maybe I’ll get published.  Maybe it really is good.  I think it’s good….sometimes.

It’s like a writer’s Christmas Eve, but this time Santa really might not come, or he might bring me coal.  Do you hear the reindeer’s hooves?

I just checked.  Still no e-mail.  Still no update on my submission status.  I’m still In Process – Your work has been received and is in the review process. Check guidelines for response times.  Of course the guidelines are gone, because of the new system.  This is like every user I’ve ever programmed for paying me back for moving stuff they want to find on a website.  When will I move to Complete or *flutter flutter* Accepted for Publication?

Nine more days, or sixteen….

*flutter flutter*

Rose Colored Glasses

On By aftheadIn stories5 Comments

My friends and family who know me best know that I have two really big fears in life: broken glass, and my lack of self awareness.  The glass fear is just a normal fear, but the lack of self awareness fear impacts every aspect of my life.

We all know someone who thinks they are the most important person on every project they are on, while everyone else is cleaning up the messes they leave behind.  We all know people who think that everyone likes them because they are always the center of every social situation, when really they just push themselves to the center and refuse to give up the position even if others roll their eyes behind their back.

I am terrified of being that person.  I am terrified of not seeing the world as it truly is.  I am terrified of thinking I am smart, talented, attractive, funny, good at my job, a good writer, whatever, when everyone around me exchanges knowing glances.  I am not an extrinsically motivated person.  I do not need others to tell me my worth.  I am an intrinsically motivated person who is afraid that her internal compass is completely out of whack.  Every time I hear someone confidently exclaim their talent I cringe a little.  Not because I don’t agree with them, but because I would never be so bold.

Two things have happened recently that have made me doubt my fears: a mirror at work and some new sunglasses.

There is a mirror in the women’s bathroom at work.  It is a large mirror, almost floor to ceiling, and it is wide.  I think the proportions may have something to do with it’s magic.  I, like most people, am not getting more attractive as I age.  My middle is getting thicker.  My face is getting wrinkles and rounder.  My posture is stooping a bit.  I dress to hide my flaws, but I am not the woman I was twenty years ago, or ten, or five.  However, I am always amazed by my image in this magical mirror.  I don’t look skinny, but I don’t look fat.  I don’t look young, but I don’t look old.  I really look like the best version of me in that mirror.  It might be the light, it might be the mirror or…maybe I really look like that?  Is it bad to think that I really look like that?  Is it bad to think that maybe the mean mirror in my bedroom is the flawed one and what other’s see when I walk around is the work bathroom mirror lady?

My new sunglasses have a rose tint.  They are cute sunglasses, and I do love wearing sunglasses.  My contacts stay dirt free, my sensitive eyes don’t squint, and I have a face that works in sunglasses.  (Oh, that last part was so bold.  Someone is saying, I’ve seen you in sunglasses and…well….I hate to tell you…)  That said, these new sunglasses are extra special because they make the world more beautiful.  They have a rose tint, and when I wear these sunglasses the sky is a blue I’ve never seen before.  It’s darker and deeper than the normal sky and the contrast of the clouds is beautiful.  Any orange or red colored flower or leaf pops with a brightness that is dazzling.  The world is bright and different when I wear these sunglasses.  It’s not how the world really looks, but it is pretty and it makes me happy.  Rose colored glasses really do make the world better.

It’s a slippery slope this false attractive version of the world.  Pretty soon I’ll be waltzing into meetings in too-small hot pants and my sunglasses and proclaiming that I am the smartest person in the room.  If I appreciate the work mirror me and the brilliant orange flowers offset by the deep blue sky, where does it stop?  Or, am I building self awareness appreciating the beauty of the sunglass mirror world, but not accepting it as truth?

Wait a second.  I’ve never looked at myself in the work mirror with my sunglasses on!  Gasp!  What a vision I will be.  I need to go plan my outfit appropriately.  I need something red or orange….and something sky blue.  Maybe hot pants?

A Letter to my Daughter

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized3 Comments

Today your world is amazing.  You are in the middle of your three friends, not on the outside.  Our two tiny foster kittens are thriving and run to you when you enter a room.  Twenty little boys in your soccer skills class picked you as the best soccer player and literally bowed to you saying “I am not worthy.”  You are at a marvelous age where this embarrasses you a little, but mostly makes you proud and joyful.  I thought you would float off the field last night, and you want to share your story with everyone.  School just makes sense right now, and you are recognized by your teacher for excelling.  Again, this praise is welcome and soul building.  Mean kids haven’t learned how to belittle your accomplishment and turn it against you.

I sit on the sideline of your life and I want to bottle this day.  I want to take how you feel and how I feel and keep it safe, because these perfect times are fleeting.  There will be days when you are on the edge, don’t get picked for the team, or don’t get invited to the dance.  There will be days of sickness and fear and loss.  There will be days when all of these bad things happen at once, and I want to offer you a sip from today and heal whatever hurts you have.  I want to be able to take a sip from today to remind myself of how amazing you can be.

Today I try to weave a bottle of words hoping our eyes can sip when we need a reminder later.

A Dirty Job: Should You Read or Listen?

On By aftheadIn Read or Listen2 Comments

My weekly post to help you decide the best format to enjoy a book.  Without further ado:

Should you read or listen to A Dirty Job, by Christopher Moore?

The Afthead Summary:

After the unexpected death of his wife, Charlie raises his infant daughter Sophie through a series of hysterical misadventures.  Wait.  That doesn’t really sound funny or like a book anyone would want to read.  How about, A Dirty Job, a comic tale of a motherless child and her beta-male father battling the forces of evil.  Crud.  That’s not really selling it either.  Okay, I recognize that Christopher Moore isn’t for everyone, but trust me, this book is funny and you’ll hardly even mind the dying mom part once you start laughing.  If everything I have written so far upsets and disturbs you, do not pick up this book.  Listen to last week’s book, or wait until next week’s book.  But if you have a strong stomach for inappropriate humor, read on.  From the Russian neighbor and her discussion of the “tiny bears” (hamsters), to the Chinese neighbor who eats all the dead pets, to the harpies of darkness stalking  “new meat” (their nickname for Charlie) this book will teach you about the mythology of death, the kindness of strangers who become family, and the love of a father for his daughter.

Read:

I read the novel first and actually laughed out loud several times.  Moore’s writing is fresh, unexpected, and will make you think long after you put the book down.  The ending takes a bit to resolve, but it’s worth the ride.  If you read it, or have read it, please let me know so I have an outlet for all my funny allusions to this book that no one I know understands.

Listen:

This is an amazing audiobook.  Fisher Stevens’s voices for Minty Fresh, Charlie, the harpies, Sophie, Audrey, and the squirrel people make the book.  His characterization is so much better than what my imagination could supply.  Listening to him makes the characters take on solid form and distinct personalities.  When I’m feeling glum I start this one up again and laugh my way to work.

Again, this is not a book to listen to with small children, grandparents, humorless or judgmental people.  Know your listeners before sharing this one with friends.

Recommendation:

Listen

Much to my excitement and joy, I found out that Moore has published a sequel to this novel, and it was released in August!  Is there anything better than an unexpected sequel that is already out?  It’s my next read, so watch for a review in the coming months.

Toilet Paper Nostalgia

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized4 Comments

My daughter is in elementary school, but in less then ten years I can expect to wake up some morning and see my two gorgeous trees in front of my house decorated with toilet paper.  Some boy, or friend, or frenemy will have expressed their love, anger, or both by littering our trees.  I was reminded about this eventuality by a friend who lives in a neighborhood with older kids and was greeted by this site on Friday morning.  (She gave me permission to use her picture.)

Her image reminded me of my TPing days, which then reminded me of colored toilet paper.  When we really wanted to grab the attention of our target we’d splurge and get pink, blue, coral or green toilet paper.  Not tan or white.  They were so boring.  Wait a second….

WHAT HAPPENED TO COLORED TOILET PAPER???

I think this is a generational thing.  It’s been decades since I’ve seen colored toilet paper.  20 somethings have no idea what I’m talking about.  30 somethings don’t either.  40 somethings and older, you with me?  Did you have a great aunt who had powder blue toilet paper that matched her bathroom, or a grandma who liked mint green to go with her olive green decor?  Oh yes, it existed.  It was a thing, and it was so fun to TP some jock’s tree with pink toilet paper.

Google to the rescue!

I had to visit Toilet Paper World’s blog, because there is a place called Toilet Paper World and they have a blog.  (The internet is an amazing place.)  They claim that non-white toilet paper disappeared in 2004.  This means my daughter has lived her whole life in a world without colored toilet paper.  The site says that the cost of manufacturing different colors combined with fears that the dyed paper could cause irritation in unsavory places was enough to end the reign of colored toilet paper.

History’s Dumpster has a post that has some amazing images of colored toilet paper, including the Charmin versions I remember with their sweet pictures of girls on the bags.  He claims that the environment also contributed to the end of colored toilet paper, but as of 2012 demand was starting back up again.  Time to turn to Amazon to solve the question.  Can we buy colored toilet paper or not?

Okay, a six pack of black toilet paper is available from Amazon for $25.99 with prime shipping, but that’s novelty toilet paper prices.  It doesn’t count.  I’m not spending over $50 to do a mediocre job of TPing a tree.  However, there appears to be a European brand, Tento, that has a variety of toilet paper options including floral, sea breeze and fresh morning scents.  Keep scrolling past the butt-scenting options, which is also patterned with sunshine, flower and shell motifs, and you will find peach and green which they market as a “pastel revitalization!”  Tento is available on Amazon, but you’ve got to buy 32 rolls and wait 3 weeks for shipment.  Maybe in a few years when my kid is the TPer we’ll make the investment.  For $55 you could really surprise a teenager in 2025 with a peach colored tree, although it’s tempting to greet them with a scented seashell patterned tree.  Thankfully I have a few years to ponder my choices.