Goofball the Christmas elf

Ok, this reeks of crass commercialism I’m sure, but we bought into this “Christmas Elf” thing this year, and my son really likes it.

Basically the idea is that there’s this army of elves crawling all over the world, spying for Santa and ratting you out if you knock over a lamp or stuff Cheerios up your brother’s nose. The elf “flies”, using magical powers, back to the North Pole every night, and spills his dirt to Santa. Then he flies back, and roosts in a new location in the house, typically high up and away from curious little hands.

You buy the elf and this book, and I’m sure it’s overpriced (my mother bought it for us). To strike fear in the hearts of THE RETAIL, I figure you ought to make your own. At any rate, we’re tools of capitalism, so we have the real deal.

And you name it. Sean, being three, named ours Goofball.

Goofball broke in last night and cleverly concealed himself on the kitchen light fixture. See for yourself.


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Tough love

I have a roughly 1000 word flash-like thing shaping up.  Yes, I am the shit.  But why why WHY must I wank at the end?  Like, every single time wank at the end?!?

I want to take the writer in me, stuff him in a burlap sack, and pound some sense into him.  The dude frustrates me, you know?

But the Dude abides.  And with that, I digress.

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The cold hard truth

I’m sure most of you creative types have already seen this, but it bears repeating.

Scalzi’s wisdom on life as a writer.


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Memories, like the corners of my mind

Thanks, Lisa. I only just discovered this treasure trove.


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The one without sea shanties

I may have started a new novel, but I’m not quite sure.

I’ve got a story, and it’s a bit different from the heavy noir bits I’m been writing. I’ve got a ship on an ocean, some kids that are also prisoners, and some of the usual suspects that may be helpful or may be evil folk or may just be looking out for themselves. There’s also treasure and blackmail and superpowers. Think I’ve stuffed enough in there?

The story blends elements that were half-baked into my older stories, but they seem to work better in this context than the earlier ones. I’m excited to be writing what might be a novel, someday. After VP, as I held the butchered remains of Moneymaker in my hands, I wasn’t sure what was next. Maybe this is it.

My goal is to craft a self-contained chapter, a piece that works as a short story but also as part of a longer narrative. Time will tell, I suppose.

If only I can work aliens and vampires into this as well…

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