Fallen Eagle

I didn't know Jamen. He was a young guy, former soccer player at Boston College and the brother of Team in Training teammate Ashley. Jamen died from lymphoma this Wednesday after a two-year battle. If it was possible for a sister to save a brother through sheer energy and devotion, than Jamen would still be around. After Ashley learned Jamen had lymphoma, she signed up to run the San Diego Marathon. Ashley raised enough money to finish third nationally, topping thousands of other fundraisers. (And ran a pretty good first marathon.) She returned for a second TNT season as a mentor. Jamen's initial treatment was successful and the disease went into remission, but it doubled back and finally got him. A great loss for the family. If nothing else, send along your best wishes and prayers.

In lieu of flowers, the family has requested donations to cancer research.

Big Old Finish

Finished the first draft of my no-longer-short story - it is now almost 60 pages of horror-suspense novella, over 12k words. (Pay by the word, do they?)

Had lunch with Dutch yesterday. His TV camera work has been slowing down to nothing, similar to my animation writing. (Which I now consider a hobby.) We're like leaves drifting to the bottom of the forest, en route to becoming mulch.

But we're both writing along with no one telling us what to put down or how. If not financially satisfying, it's liberating.

Beautiful fall day today. Blue skies, bit of haze, great diffused lighting. "Eatable light," I say. It's that good.

Soul Long

My good friend Eileen passed away on Monday. I visited last week, but she was fast asleep, body winding down. I believe this was a blessing.

Tiny Men Arise!

One has come from Nepal to claim the title of World's Smallest Man. Who will stand up to him?

h/t: Daley Gator

Oscar the Likable Ogre

Good friend Dutch has a story up at Ex Cathedra: The Second Doctrine about a small town's acceptance of an ogre who only eats unlikeable children. (Starts on p.61.)

No Snark Intended

Just a subtle reminder.

h/t: Tom Ruegger.

So Long, Physical Therapy

This was my last day at therapy. Since July, I'd gotten to know the assistants: two of the girls enjoyed Vegas, the office gal was a former dancer, while the main therapist was a triathlete who competed regularly. He said my future lies in weight loss and reverse lunges. (Building up quads and glutes for future running.) Starting next week, I'll walk a mile 3x a week, going by feel. Perhaps in January, I'll venture running a mile or so. Meanwhile, one of my short stories passed the first hurdle for a humor magazine. They're debating whether to include it in their upcoming December issue. That would be one down and nine to go on my sell-10-short stories-in-six-months plan. More info t/k when they say 'yes.'