New Year's Eve a Decade Ago

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Ten Years Back I Wrote:

For the last 48 hours I've been writing a story to submit to a horror anthology. Right now, New Year's Eve, my darling wife is proofing the last draft. Submission deadline closes at midnight. I wrote from noon to 11:00 last night. Eight o'clock to 1:10 today, went to the gym, then wrote from 4:30 to 10:20. MDW assures me I'm getting the rapid proof that will merely nip the worst grammatical offenders.

This story actually started out as something called Behind the Scenes. But over three weeks, it's changed, changed again and finally become Tyto Alba, the tale of a slacker who pays a price for "going with the flow." 

All pressure is self-imposed. I must return to my young adult novel and didn't want this almost-finished story lounging around, up to no good.

And so, as I await changes on my final story for 2007, I say to one and all: 

Back in the day, I still had a prostate.

The story in question was rejected. Basically, it was characters trapped in a Food of the Gods-like farmhouse. No one really changed much and all the action  was contrived to generate gruesome deaths and a clever escape.

In addition, I was writing a YA novel which eventually migrated to the 2008 unfinished pile as I entered the new year coaching with Team in Training, piling up the weekly miles in preparation for the Eugene Marathon, while staging our house for sale, plus seeking a condo to purchase as the housing crisis was in full bloom.

Today I've written five books, returned to running after a long injury-fueled absence and, on December 31, battle the flu. May it pass quickly. (The years certainly do.) In the meantime:

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Training in the Heat

An accurate description of yesterday's late afternoon run at a balmy 95 degrees. I took it easy and neither quit nor forced my training schedule into unfavorable conditions. A maturing runner's approach, if I do say so.

With multiple writing projects, I've been devoting small amounts of time to each over the last few weeks. I've noticed a tipping point. After a certain period, the subconscious has digested the material and suddenly answers pour forth. It doesn't write itself, but the road opens before you. Like much in life, the key seems to be consistency.

Powerful in small amounts, like compound interest or laxatives.

Training for Eugene

Yesterday was my first timed run in almost two months. I looped the Rose Bowl in 24:52. That's a 5K distance (3.1 miles). I was very pleased with the results. This marks the official start of my training for the Eugene Marathon. I will shatter the four-hour mark.

My fine wife and I shared pizza last night and planned our next moves. There's much to be done in order to stage the house for sale. I want to nap instead. Nevertheless, off we go into a new stage of life.

Writing lags. I have another project in addition to my book and short story: an original, live-action sit-com script. Changes in the animation industry include the arrival of live-action executives. They have little trust in animation scripts as a barometer of writing ability, preferring formats they are more comfortable with. I suppose I should be greatful they aren't arriving from the cattle insemenation industry.

Animalia, Writing, Running, TNT

A show that helped me pay bills last year airs this Sunday. Animalia started out in 2006 as a funny program for kids 8 to 12 in the spirit of Anamaniacs. Over the years, the vision changed toward a more serious, educational program for a younger demographic. Some of the CGI l've seen looks pretty good. Now the series "belongs to the ages" or PBS, BBC, CBC, etc.

Working on the 3rd draft of Dummy Fever. Six pages a day, come what may. That should take me to Monday, January 14. From there, my darling wife proof reads same, while I arrange with an adult book club, a teen literary group, and volunteers from two high schools to read and comment. Oh, and off to my agent as well. I'm excited. I think this book will go. I really feel the story is picking up momentum.

Ran 5 miles this morning. Heavy rains last night caused a mini-mudslide that dumped muck and roots across one trail. Plus a drowned rat drifted to its resting place in the bike lane surrounding the Rose Bowl. Perhaps someone will give it a Viking funeral, sailing it down a storm drain on flaming cardboard smeared with peanut butter.

First information meeting for the Summer Team in Training season will be next Saturday morning at the Covina Library. However all the coaches will be in Phoenix with the Winter Team for the Rock 'n Roll Marathon. Except me. This will be a splendid time to introduce my own unique theories of running to a captive audience. ("We use a lot of iron when we run. So buy some iron leg weights and an iron knee band. It'll toughen ya up.")