Novelist
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright, Author
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Thoughts and Stuff: Tribute to a Fallen Soldier...
Thoughts and Stuff: Tribute to a Fallen Soldier...: William Kenneth Wright We have all lost, or will lose someone close to us. Death eventually comes to claim us all. Sometimes though it...
Monday, February 13, 2012
Just A Little Memory
I had a memory. Okay, stop giggling, it’s the best opening sentence I could think of.
Actually, it was a simple snapshot in time that wafts through my head on occasion. Let me set the scene for you: It was a very sunny, hot summer day. I was about ten, maybe eleven; I don’t remember exactly. Judging by my recollection of the heat, it must have been mid-afternoon and quite calm. I was breathing hard like I’d been playing and needed to rest. I was alone near the barn at my childhood home, the cotton farm where I grew up on the South Plains of Texas. I was sweaty and dirty; nothing extraordinary for a ten-year-old farm kid of ten (maybe eleven), right?
I was shoeless wearing a torn white t-shirt topping frayed blue jeans with both knees worn totally through. I backed up to the clothesline pole and slid down it to sit on hard packed grassless ground. Somewhere, off in the distance, I heard the drone of a prop-driven airliner (It was the early sixties, after all.) And, besides the incessant buzzing of pesky gnats in my ears, it was the only sound around.
Now, here’s the reason this memory, this much less than extraordinary moment comes back to me with increasing regularity as the years reel off; it happened to be the first time that it occurred to me that life was a one-way trip. As cozy and happy as I felt at that instant, I realized that that moment would soon pass and never return. Oh, there’d be thousands of other moments, but not that one. I’ve often wondered if a thought like that, at that age, made me an odd kid. Did it? Was I?
But, there was more to that moment than a single odd prepubescent philosophical mental meandering, because that thought led directly into another. One in which I became acutely aware how well I had it at the time. Oh sure, Dad would spank me black and blue on occasion and cuss a blue streak if I failed to do as I was told. Sailors had nothing on Texas cotton farmers when it came to salty language. There was even a time he made me sit at the dinner table and would not let me leave until I ate at least one Brussels sprout. I did, I puked, and then went outside to play. We weren’t impoverished, but we weren’t tripping over treasure chests either. Still, life was good and even then, as a carefree kid of ten, maybe eleven, it was at that exact moment that I realized just how good.
I have absolutely no memory of any other part of that day. But, the heat, the airplane drone, the gnats, the sunshine—everything about that minute of my life is indelibly printed in my consciousness.
I believe most people, me included, have had a moment, the paradigm, in which self-awareness sort of flies out of the cosmos and slaps us in the face. That’s also when we first discover our place in the world and begin developing a niche to fill. Sadly, I also believe there are some who live entire lifetimes never believing they have or deserve a place in the world.
As for me, it only took a rest period at playtime, circa 1960, maybe ’61, to know, to deeply believe that not only did I have a place in the world, it came with a road that I’d travel for a lifetime.
Have a wonderful day. Life is good.
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2012/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2012/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/ July 2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
Actually, it was a simple snapshot in time that wafts through my head on occasion. Let me set the scene for you: It was a very sunny, hot summer day. I was about ten, maybe eleven; I don’t remember exactly. Judging by my recollection of the heat, it must have been mid-afternoon and quite calm. I was breathing hard like I’d been playing and needed to rest. I was alone near the barn at my childhood home, the cotton farm where I grew up on the South Plains of Texas. I was sweaty and dirty; nothing extraordinary for a ten-year-old farm kid of ten (maybe eleven), right?
I was shoeless wearing a torn white t-shirt topping frayed blue jeans with both knees worn totally through. I backed up to the clothesline pole and slid down it to sit on hard packed grassless ground. Somewhere, off in the distance, I heard the drone of a prop-driven airliner (It was the early sixties, after all.) And, besides the incessant buzzing of pesky gnats in my ears, it was the only sound around.
Now, here’s the reason this memory, this much less than extraordinary moment comes back to me with increasing regularity as the years reel off; it happened to be the first time that it occurred to me that life was a one-way trip. As cozy and happy as I felt at that instant, I realized that that moment would soon pass and never return. Oh, there’d be thousands of other moments, but not that one. I’ve often wondered if a thought like that, at that age, made me an odd kid. Did it? Was I?
But, there was more to that moment than a single odd prepubescent philosophical mental meandering, because that thought led directly into another. One in which I became acutely aware how well I had it at the time. Oh sure, Dad would spank me black and blue on occasion and cuss a blue streak if I failed to do as I was told. Sailors had nothing on Texas cotton farmers when it came to salty language. There was even a time he made me sit at the dinner table and would not let me leave until I ate at least one Brussels sprout. I did, I puked, and then went outside to play. We weren’t impoverished, but we weren’t tripping over treasure chests either. Still, life was good and even then, as a carefree kid of ten, maybe eleven, it was at that exact moment that I realized just how good.
I have absolutely no memory of any other part of that day. But, the heat, the airplane drone, the gnats, the sunshine—everything about that minute of my life is indelibly printed in my consciousness.
I believe most people, me included, have had a moment, the paradigm, in which self-awareness sort of flies out of the cosmos and slaps us in the face. That’s also when we first discover our place in the world and begin developing a niche to fill. Sadly, I also believe there are some who live entire lifetimes never believing they have or deserve a place in the world.
As for me, it only took a rest period at playtime, circa 1960, maybe ’61, to know, to deeply believe that not only did I have a place in the world, it came with a road that I’d travel for a lifetime.
Have a wonderful day. Life is good.
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2012/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2012/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/ July 2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
Friday, February 10, 2012
This Oldie Needs to Sweat
The time has come that I must talk on a subject that, at one time was extremely important to me, but not lately—exercise. My forehead is getting damp and I’m breathing harder just thinking about it.
Any sane person would believe that I should be doing more than just thinking about it; right? Yeah, I know you’re right. That’s why I’m currently in the process of psyching up to, once again, make it an appointment activity in my life. It’s sure not because I don’t have the time. I know I need to whip this old body back into shape. It’s just that the whipper isn’t what it used to be.
It’s worth pointing out that I still hold valid fitness trainer certification through the National Endurance and Strength Training Association. I don’t mention this to be boastful; quite the opposite actually. My belly button disappeared months ago. Yep, I just checked where I’m sure it used to be. It’s nowhere to be seen. Now, that glossy eight-by-ten certificate with an official looking gold seal on it just seems ridiculous; oh, the irony of it.
Yesterday, I made the comment that I plan on being eighteen till I die (and, yes, I listen to Bryan Adams version of it often). Interestingly, it’s fairly easy to believe I’m still youthful, vivacious, good looking and can party till the sun comes up ... as long as I’m sitting still in a room with no mirrors.
Realistically, I’m not looking to compete in senior power lifting events or participate in bodybuilding competitions. I just want to be able to get down on my knees and back up to my feet without wishing for a forklift assist. I used to laugh at that “I’ve fallen and can’t get up” commercial. I can’t see the humor in it anymore.
If you haven’t guessed it yet, this blog entry is a message to self that I’ve decided to share. I have lots of life left in me, but if I don’t get up and get moving ... well, I think you can guess the rest of this sentence.
Maybe this is working after all. I do have a spark of excitement about getting an exercise regimen together and hitting it. Oh, to sweat and breathe deeply the satisfaction of putting this old body back into shape. Yes, yes! I’ll do it ... right after my nap.
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2012/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2012/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/ July 2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
Any sane person would believe that I should be doing more than just thinking about it; right? Yeah, I know you’re right. That’s why I’m currently in the process of psyching up to, once again, make it an appointment activity in my life. It’s sure not because I don’t have the time. I know I need to whip this old body back into shape. It’s just that the whipper isn’t what it used to be.
It’s worth pointing out that I still hold valid fitness trainer certification through the National Endurance and Strength Training Association. I don’t mention this to be boastful; quite the opposite actually. My belly button disappeared months ago. Yep, I just checked where I’m sure it used to be. It’s nowhere to be seen. Now, that glossy eight-by-ten certificate with an official looking gold seal on it just seems ridiculous; oh, the irony of it.
Yesterday, I made the comment that I plan on being eighteen till I die (and, yes, I listen to Bryan Adams version of it often). Interestingly, it’s fairly easy to believe I’m still youthful, vivacious, good looking and can party till the sun comes up ... as long as I’m sitting still in a room with no mirrors.
Realistically, I’m not looking to compete in senior power lifting events or participate in bodybuilding competitions. I just want to be able to get down on my knees and back up to my feet without wishing for a forklift assist. I used to laugh at that “I’ve fallen and can’t get up” commercial. I can’t see the humor in it anymore.
If you haven’t guessed it yet, this blog entry is a message to self that I’ve decided to share. I have lots of life left in me, but if I don’t get up and get moving ... well, I think you can guess the rest of this sentence.
Maybe this is working after all. I do have a spark of excitement about getting an exercise regimen together and hitting it. Oh, to sweat and breathe deeply the satisfaction of putting this old body back into shape. Yes, yes! I’ll do it ... right after my nap.
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2012/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2012/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/ July 2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
Saturday, February 4, 2012
I'd Like To Love You
I’m pleased to announce that I’ll have four novels released in 2012, two of which may be near simultaneous: “Phobia”/suspense-thriller/Booktrope Publishing and “Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/Science fiction-fantasy/ATTM Press. I expect both of these to be in print and ebook before the end of March. I would be honored if you’d visit this blog often for updates and buy them when they are released. Later in the year, “Helping Hand For Ethan”/young adult/Rogue Phoenix Press/ebook only will be released. That date is still to-be-announced. And, “Defining Family”/mainstream contemporary drama/Whiskey Creek Press/print and ebook is in the production queue and scheduled for a July release.
As you can tell, my head is back in story-making mode, having finally settled into our new eighty year old house and start-up maintenance and construction projects have begun to demand less brainpower. God knows, I don’t have enough of that to go around (reference my earlier blog on multi-tasking).
Currently, I continue to work on a love story between edits of earlier novels. When I sat down to write this blog entry, my head swirled with degrees of “love” and “like”. That’s when it occurred to me that to define these words might be a good way to start a debate, maybe even a spirited argument. And, when I say “define”, I’m leaving Webster and Funk and Wagnall out of it. This is my take on it.
I’m a guy, a testosterone laden pig by some accounts, having never considered the definitions of these words, much less nuances. Still, I always considered myself a closet romantic. I just felt it necessary to bury those feelings beneath layers of machismo, stupidity and, sometimes, outright cruelty. Interestingly, I always felt bad when I resorted to such things, yet, did it anyhow. Before I dive into this, it seems necessary that you know this about me—not sure why. Okay, here we go:
I don’t believe a person chooses who they love any more than they choose who’ll be their siblings. It’s simply a force of nature. The only requirement is having the good fortune of meeting that person, thing or situation. You can love someone/something yet hate them/it. You can like someone/something yet not love them/it. That makes them two very different words, not degrees of the same thing.
Here, it must be pointed out the difference between “love” and “like”. To like someone is simply an attraction brought on by a number of different variables. It could be shared experiences or, even more simply, an easy feeling of being in another’s company. But to love is to forge a bond that can never, ever be broken. It’s ridiculous to believe that a person can fall out of love. That just means it was never love in the first place, just a combination of lust and like. It’s about as absurd as jumping off a cliff, saying “oops” and then unleaping it. Asinine, right?
It’s pure caca when a couple divorces and insists they still love one another but must go their separate ways. If they can go their separate ways then it was never love. It was “like”. It might be a cliché but true; love is eternal. That means the bond born of it is eternal. The need to be in its presence is uncontrollably magnetic even though the object of love might become detestable; like I said, ‘a force of nature’. No one can walk away from it, in body or spirit. If it’s real, it’s real; if it’s not, it’s not.
The word “love” has been beaten and brutalized and hardly recognizable anymore. It’s not, and should never be pulled out, dusted off and used to achieve mutual orgasm, or any other convenient use of it.
Can “like” become “love”? Of course. Can love be reined in and revert to like? Never. That’s unleaping the cliff.
For all you overtly sensitive types that have spent a lifetime contemplating such things, please accept my apologies for presenting something so elementary. I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes and whispering, “Yeah, so? Duh.”
For me it’s just, “Duh.”
Now that my head’s deeply entrenched in such terms of endearment, I must get busy writing that love story. I think I feel my sensitive side kicking in. I had better not miss it. It’s usually brief.
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2012/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2012/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/ July 2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
As you can tell, my head is back in story-making mode, having finally settled into our new eighty year old house and start-up maintenance and construction projects have begun to demand less brainpower. God knows, I don’t have enough of that to go around (reference my earlier blog on multi-tasking).
Currently, I continue to work on a love story between edits of earlier novels. When I sat down to write this blog entry, my head swirled with degrees of “love” and “like”. That’s when it occurred to me that to define these words might be a good way to start a debate, maybe even a spirited argument. And, when I say “define”, I’m leaving Webster and Funk and Wagnall out of it. This is my take on it.
I’m a guy, a testosterone laden pig by some accounts, having never considered the definitions of these words, much less nuances. Still, I always considered myself a closet romantic. I just felt it necessary to bury those feelings beneath layers of machismo, stupidity and, sometimes, outright cruelty. Interestingly, I always felt bad when I resorted to such things, yet, did it anyhow. Before I dive into this, it seems necessary that you know this about me—not sure why. Okay, here we go:
I don’t believe a person chooses who they love any more than they choose who’ll be their siblings. It’s simply a force of nature. The only requirement is having the good fortune of meeting that person, thing or situation. You can love someone/something yet hate them/it. You can like someone/something yet not love them/it. That makes them two very different words, not degrees of the same thing.
Here, it must be pointed out the difference between “love” and “like”. To like someone is simply an attraction brought on by a number of different variables. It could be shared experiences or, even more simply, an easy feeling of being in another’s company. But to love is to forge a bond that can never, ever be broken. It’s ridiculous to believe that a person can fall out of love. That just means it was never love in the first place, just a combination of lust and like. It’s about as absurd as jumping off a cliff, saying “oops” and then unleaping it. Asinine, right?
It’s pure caca when a couple divorces and insists they still love one another but must go their separate ways. If they can go their separate ways then it was never love. It was “like”. It might be a cliché but true; love is eternal. That means the bond born of it is eternal. The need to be in its presence is uncontrollably magnetic even though the object of love might become detestable; like I said, ‘a force of nature’. No one can walk away from it, in body or spirit. If it’s real, it’s real; if it’s not, it’s not.
The word “love” has been beaten and brutalized and hardly recognizable anymore. It’s not, and should never be pulled out, dusted off and used to achieve mutual orgasm, or any other convenient use of it.
Can “like” become “love”? Of course. Can love be reined in and revert to like? Never. That’s unleaping the cliff.
For all you overtly sensitive types that have spent a lifetime contemplating such things, please accept my apologies for presenting something so elementary. I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes and whispering, “Yeah, so? Duh.”
For me it’s just, “Duh.”
Now that my head’s deeply entrenched in such terms of endearment, I must get busy writing that love story. I think I feel my sensitive side kicking in. I had better not miss it. It’s usually brief.
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2012/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2012/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/ July 2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
Friday, January 20, 2012
The Big Move
It occurred to me only moments ago how long it has been since I’ve contributed to my own blog. Shame on me!
I do have an excuse though; want to hear it? Here it goes.
For the first time since 1991 my wife and I decided to move, preparation for retirement, by downsizing into a house that, I think, I’ll begin calling “The Old Money Pit”. You know the type of house I’m referring to; full of character, charm and, oh yeah, lots and lots of problems. It’s called a “shotgun” house built in the late thirties. Even if you’re not familiar with the term, I’m sure you have seen plenty of them. That is, if you have spent any time at all in the oldest parts of the city in which you live. It, like all of them, has two front doors and all the rooms are lined up straight through to the backdoor, hence the name.
And, since downsizing was one of the goals, along with doing away with mortgage payments—forever, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone that we have many boxes full of stuff that we have no clue what to do with. Well, not a surprise to anyone but the two of us. Now the question hovering over us like a smelly green cloud is: Did we improve our situation? Was our plan thoughtfully considered? Or, did we just spring up after the notion hit us and jump on it like a dung beetle on a cowpie?
We certainly have no storage space. Our backyard reminds me of one of those junk heaps behind a sad hovel in a third-world country. You know the ones. It’s the view that organizers of feed the children public service spots are really fond of showing us on television, usually right after they show a kid walking next to a sewage sluice. If you have the picture in mind, then you’re seeing the equivalent of our backyard.
A redeeming feature of the place in the beginning was that, although pier and beam construction and about eighty years old, the floors did not squeak. Impressive, I thought. The foundation did need some leveling since it sloped toward the back a tiny bit, but that seemed like no big thing. Now, the floors are level and it’s like walking across a creaking, groaning and popping trampoline. I have no need of an electronic intruder alert. In fact, I dare any crook to sneak up on me in this house. Coming in through the backdoor and walking across the laundry room, I can hear dishes rattling in the dining room. That’s two rooms away!
Will my opinion of this place change? I’ll take the confident approach and answer with a resounding “Yes!”
Even after spewing these negative sounding amusements, there are some really good things to consider. It’s a quiet small town. The train passes through a couple of times a day. People who live closer to the track may object to the sound, but we are far enough away that it is a comforting throwback to a simpler time. Rocking chairs are on front porches everywhere in this neighborhood and people embrace a slower, laid-back lifestyle.
One day while moving furniture, I took a moment to sit on our brand new eighty-year-old front porch and watch leaves from the massive pecan tree rain down with each puff of a gentle breeze. Squirrels chased one another through the treetops and I could hear children laughing somewhere down the street. It was easy to envision Norman Rockwell puffing on his pipe, sitting behind his easel and painting the scene I witnessed.
I’d love to stay and share more, but I must go build another cabinet in the kitchen so that I might empty one more box. This will feel like home soon enough.
Love to all.
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2012/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2012/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/ July 2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
I do have an excuse though; want to hear it? Here it goes.
For the first time since 1991 my wife and I decided to move, preparation for retirement, by downsizing into a house that, I think, I’ll begin calling “The Old Money Pit”. You know the type of house I’m referring to; full of character, charm and, oh yeah, lots and lots of problems. It’s called a “shotgun” house built in the late thirties. Even if you’re not familiar with the term, I’m sure you have seen plenty of them. That is, if you have spent any time at all in the oldest parts of the city in which you live. It, like all of them, has two front doors and all the rooms are lined up straight through to the backdoor, hence the name.
And, since downsizing was one of the goals, along with doing away with mortgage payments—forever, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone that we have many boxes full of stuff that we have no clue what to do with. Well, not a surprise to anyone but the two of us. Now the question hovering over us like a smelly green cloud is: Did we improve our situation? Was our plan thoughtfully considered? Or, did we just spring up after the notion hit us and jump on it like a dung beetle on a cowpie?
We certainly have no storage space. Our backyard reminds me of one of those junk heaps behind a sad hovel in a third-world country. You know the ones. It’s the view that organizers of feed the children public service spots are really fond of showing us on television, usually right after they show a kid walking next to a sewage sluice. If you have the picture in mind, then you’re seeing the equivalent of our backyard.
A redeeming feature of the place in the beginning was that, although pier and beam construction and about eighty years old, the floors did not squeak. Impressive, I thought. The foundation did need some leveling since it sloped toward the back a tiny bit, but that seemed like no big thing. Now, the floors are level and it’s like walking across a creaking, groaning and popping trampoline. I have no need of an electronic intruder alert. In fact, I dare any crook to sneak up on me in this house. Coming in through the backdoor and walking across the laundry room, I can hear dishes rattling in the dining room. That’s two rooms away!
Will my opinion of this place change? I’ll take the confident approach and answer with a resounding “Yes!”
Even after spewing these negative sounding amusements, there are some really good things to consider. It’s a quiet small town. The train passes through a couple of times a day. People who live closer to the track may object to the sound, but we are far enough away that it is a comforting throwback to a simpler time. Rocking chairs are on front porches everywhere in this neighborhood and people embrace a slower, laid-back lifestyle.
One day while moving furniture, I took a moment to sit on our brand new eighty-year-old front porch and watch leaves from the massive pecan tree rain down with each puff of a gentle breeze. Squirrels chased one another through the treetops and I could hear children laughing somewhere down the street. It was easy to envision Norman Rockwell puffing on his pipe, sitting behind his easel and painting the scene I witnessed.
I’d love to stay and share more, but I must go build another cabinet in the kitchen so that I might empty one more box. This will feel like home soon enough.
Love to all.
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2012/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2012/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/ July 2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
Monday, November 7, 2011
The "But" Of Criticism
The “But” Of Criticism
Have you noticed that when someone is about to relate a misdeed, bad situation, or sometimes outright tragic occurrence, they’ll often preface it by saying, “It’s funny, but . . . “.
I heard it twice yesterday and there was absolutely nothing funny about either account; one dealt with friends drifting apart to never reconnect and the other was someone dying before realizing a lifelong dream. Is this simply a way of softening a distasteful topic, yet compelled to speak of it anyhow?
I found myself thinking about this for a time, but as is usually the case, my thoughts on the subject rabbit-trailed. It reminded me of a long held belief developed a couple of decades ago.
I spent about ten years as a junior account executive in small market television. From the get-go a pattern developed during regular sales meetings that, at first, were quite demoralizing. The manager would stand at the end of a long conference table, put on a serious face and begin by saying something like, “You guys have been doing a really good job, but . . . “. The rest of that sentence was of course the truth, according to management. After a time, it became less unsettling and more amusing because I began noticing how often it is used in conversations of all types by all people. At some point along the way, it became downright hilarious and I developed a standard comeback whenever I hear versions of the comment: “It’s all bullshit until you get past the ‘but’.”
The balance of my television advertising career was as a manager. On many occasions, salespeople likely thought I had taken a side trip to catatonia listening to their sad stories of life, jealousies, lost loves and poor sales. I’d stare at them expressionless when a sentence began with, “I’m working hard and doing the best I can, but . . . “ or “She’s really a lovely girl, but . . . “ or “He’s a super nice man, but . . . “ Actually, they simply were not aware of how hard I was working at not laughing at their seriousness; you know, the “bullshit” factor.
So, I just want each and every one of you to know that, from the bottom of my heart, I love you all deeply and dearly, but . . . “
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2011/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2011/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
Have you noticed that when someone is about to relate a misdeed, bad situation, or sometimes outright tragic occurrence, they’ll often preface it by saying, “It’s funny, but . . . “.
I heard it twice yesterday and there was absolutely nothing funny about either account; one dealt with friends drifting apart to never reconnect and the other was someone dying before realizing a lifelong dream. Is this simply a way of softening a distasteful topic, yet compelled to speak of it anyhow?
I found myself thinking about this for a time, but as is usually the case, my thoughts on the subject rabbit-trailed. It reminded me of a long held belief developed a couple of decades ago.
I spent about ten years as a junior account executive in small market television. From the get-go a pattern developed during regular sales meetings that, at first, were quite demoralizing. The manager would stand at the end of a long conference table, put on a serious face and begin by saying something like, “You guys have been doing a really good job, but . . . “. The rest of that sentence was of course the truth, according to management. After a time, it became less unsettling and more amusing because I began noticing how often it is used in conversations of all types by all people. At some point along the way, it became downright hilarious and I developed a standard comeback whenever I hear versions of the comment: “It’s all bullshit until you get past the ‘but’.”
The balance of my television advertising career was as a manager. On many occasions, salespeople likely thought I had taken a side trip to catatonia listening to their sad stories of life, jealousies, lost loves and poor sales. I’d stare at them expressionless when a sentence began with, “I’m working hard and doing the best I can, but . . . “ or “She’s really a lovely girl, but . . . “ or “He’s a super nice man, but . . . “ Actually, they simply were not aware of how hard I was working at not laughing at their seriousness; you know, the “bullshit” factor.
So, I just want each and every one of you to know that, from the bottom of my heart, I love you all deeply and dearly, but . . . “
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2011/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2011/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
Sunday, October 16, 2011
One Thing At A Time Or Not At All
“Multi-tasking” is a term that sprang onto the scene over a decade ago to describe anyone doing more than one thing at a time while going about a daily routine; like talking on the phone, writing a letter, and drinking a cup of coffee at the same time to cram more things done into a day. Multi-tasking quickly became proudly hailed as the way to be, the thing everyone should aspire to and the style of most successful business people.
Poppycock!
Sticking with my example, if a person talks on the phone, writes a letter and drinks coffee at the same time, what that person will end up with is a hesitating conversation, a piece of paper with dropped words and coffee stains on it. Each one in need of a re-do.
Although at times necessary, proficiency declines proportionally to the number of tasks undertaken. Nothing gets done well. That’s my assertion and I’m sticking with it.
I was driving home yesterday from Waco behind a woman talking on the phone, she weaved from center stripe to shoulder repeatedly. It was easy to tell the second she ended the conversation, Her car suddenly accelerated and whooshed straight as a string up the highway.
After she turned, I found myself behind a young man in a very big pickup truck holding his phone in both hands atop the steering wheel and texting. That phone was getting much more attention than the steering wheel beneath it. Besides crossing the line and jerking back into his lane a time or two, his speed surged from fifty to seventy then began backing off again. Perturbed and a little concerned for his safety I honked at him. The response was anger and a one-fingered salute.
I thought, “There goes the quintessential multi-tasker.” And, then, I went on to analyze my own opinion of those who dare attempt multi-tasking and how I despise being forced into situations that it’s necessary.
I will admit that taking care of multiple responsibilities simultaneously does, indeed, bring out one’s character and then shines a spotlight on it. The young man in the pickup was clearly having a bad day before I ever pulled up behind him. But, don’t you think, if he’d pulled off the highway and focused on only the text that his bad day could’ve been made just a little better, a tiny bit less stressful? I think . . . yes. Do I believe one should ever be forced into such a lifestyle? I think . . . no. And, after years of forced servitude in such a style, am I ever going to succumb to it again? I think . . . no way in hell.
Now, I must go about closing the sale on a house purchased, getting a house ready to sell, prime my mind for a new job to begin soon, edit four novels to be released in the coming months, write a short story I’ve committed to for an anthology, and finish a novel currently in the works.
But, God as my witness, I’ll do these things one at a time.
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2011/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2011/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
Poppycock!
Sticking with my example, if a person talks on the phone, writes a letter and drinks coffee at the same time, what that person will end up with is a hesitating conversation, a piece of paper with dropped words and coffee stains on it. Each one in need of a re-do.
Although at times necessary, proficiency declines proportionally to the number of tasks undertaken. Nothing gets done well. That’s my assertion and I’m sticking with it.
I was driving home yesterday from Waco behind a woman talking on the phone, she weaved from center stripe to shoulder repeatedly. It was easy to tell the second she ended the conversation, Her car suddenly accelerated and whooshed straight as a string up the highway.
After she turned, I found myself behind a young man in a very big pickup truck holding his phone in both hands atop the steering wheel and texting. That phone was getting much more attention than the steering wheel beneath it. Besides crossing the line and jerking back into his lane a time or two, his speed surged from fifty to seventy then began backing off again. Perturbed and a little concerned for his safety I honked at him. The response was anger and a one-fingered salute.
I thought, “There goes the quintessential multi-tasker.” And, then, I went on to analyze my own opinion of those who dare attempt multi-tasking and how I despise being forced into situations that it’s necessary.
I will admit that taking care of multiple responsibilities simultaneously does, indeed, bring out one’s character and then shines a spotlight on it. The young man in the pickup was clearly having a bad day before I ever pulled up behind him. But, don’t you think, if he’d pulled off the highway and focused on only the text that his bad day could’ve been made just a little better, a tiny bit less stressful? I think . . . yes. Do I believe one should ever be forced into such a lifestyle? I think . . . no. And, after years of forced servitude in such a style, am I ever going to succumb to it again? I think . . . no way in hell.
Now, I must go about closing the sale on a house purchased, getting a house ready to sell, prime my mind for a new job to begin soon, edit four novels to be released in the coming months, write a short story I’ve committed to for an anthology, and finish a novel currently in the works.
But, God as my witness, I’ll do these things one at a time.
Author of
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/mainstream/print & ebook
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/action-adventure/print & ebook
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press/ historical drama/ ebook only
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX/print only
“Dancing Away”/ short story/romance/Untreed Reads/ebook only
“Phobia”/Booktrope/2011/suspense-thriller/print & ebook
“Helping Hand For Ethan/Rogue Phoenix Press/2011/young adult/ebook only
“Defining Family”/Whiskey Creek Press/2012/young adult/print & ebook
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”/ATTM Press/2012/soft science fiction/print & ebook
COMING SOON
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)
“Hackberry Corners, Texas 1934”
“Life, Love, and Lubbock”
Search Daniel Lance Wright on Amazon.com
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