....PM me, I would like to purchase the collection when they are all available......(I'll trade you a dead cat on a string you can swing around).....
A little of my stuff
- Thread starter Grandpa
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Here's the thing with Amazon self-publishing - yes, I set the price, and then that's it. I can't even get my own book for any cheaper. If I want to take a stack of my books to a club? I pay retail and have them sent to me.
I'm not complaining. The up side is I upload it, and it's published, e- or print.
The approach is perilous in that it sure would attract a ton of hacks. I swear I'm not a hack.
Congrats Grandpa. I was at Barnes and Noble over the weekend and couldn’t find your book... those ba$tards! So I ordered the paperbook at Amazon. I have Amazon Prime but it still won’t get to me until December 29. It will be the first book I’ll read in 2017. The butler better not have done it.
I’m keeping a tally of all the money you’re costing me. My wife has been yearning for a decent camera (she hasn’t had one since film became extinct), and after seeing those pics you took on your trip I decided to get her one for Christmas. And now the book. So far I figure you’ve had a hand in costing me about $400 this year. You planning on a boring new year... I hope?
Congrats Grandpa. I was at Barnes and Noble over the weekend and couldn’t find your book... those ba$tards! So I ordered the paperbook at Amazon. I have Amazon Prime but it still won’t get to me until December 29. It will be the first book I’ll read in 2017. The butler better not have done it.
Sir, you honor me. FWIW, I am moved. Thank you. And yeah, I'm aggravated with the delivery times. My office paid extra to have the books land on the doorstep this weekend, and it didn't happen.
Anyway, I wasn't projecting our discussions directly into it. More of adopting some philosophical overtones into dialogue and overarching personae. But as you read it, assuming you can struggle through, I think you'll see familiar echoes.
I’m keeping a tally of all the money you’re costing me. My wife has been yearning for a decent camera (she hasn’t had one since film became extinct), and after seeing those pics you took on your trip I decided to get her one for Christmas. And now the book. So far I figure you’ve had a hand in costing me about $400 this year. You planning on a boring new year... I hope?
I'm predicting that she will love it. The mechanics of shooting are still the same, but you have instant gratification, and you can take more shots to capture the moment right without having to worry about running through 36 frames on a film roll in nothing flat. And there is a lot more flexibility to the camera controls. For instance, you don't have to buy a specific ISO film for a given circumstance. You just adjust the ISO on the camera, and the camera brain understands.
Then your problem really begins, as the $395 camera, good as it is, doesn't match up to what that $800 camera will do, and gosh, I could catch that deer on the other side of the valley if I was carrying a $400 lens that I could swap out, and ....
ANYWAY. This year? I have a book release scheduled for March 15, but it's my Understated Social Message, not something that is targeted for commercial success. (cat in a bag understands what I'm saying, I think - it's "Hidden View," cat.) It's been written for a while.
I had another story to write in mind, but that's getting shelved (I think) in favor of a sequel to the book you just bought ("Death")(and THANK YOU), because the very early comments of both my readers show that they want a sequel, and it would be fun to write. Plus, both those readers are wondering where the story of "Tomas" might go, past and future. Well.... Writin' R Us.
I went with the Canon SX530 HS 16.0 MP and also got some accessories. It had decent reviews and I liked the fact it has manual focus in addition to AF. It comes with 50x zoom (which I’m hoping will be good for all the wildlife we often see out back) and the image stabilization seemed to be rated best in its class. It has a quick AF, can take video and has built-in WiFi, so she can post to the dreaded Facebook. What I didn’t like about it was the low-light flexibility, low battery life, and only has a 154k pixel screen. But I figure it is a good budget DSLR camera that she’ll be happy with. Many ages ago I was into black and white photography (Minolta SLR) and even had my own dark room, but like so many other interests over time... took its course.
I hear ya. I used to photograph a LOT. Now I've got 30,000 photographs**, about 18 of which are hanging up around the house (the wife likes my photography), and a bunch shared with family and on Facebook. If I dropped over tomorrow, whoever in the family might wade through my terabyte drives will have a year-long job at it.
As I returned to writing, it just seemed that that hobby's ROI was much higher than I got out of takin' pitchers. That's when my wife, with wanting to please the husband but without great timing, bought me the Nikon D7200. Beautiful camera, and I could swap the glass from the D80. I used the new camera on the Alaska trip. Not so much other than that.
But maybe if I could write for a living, I'd take more time for photography again. By my calculations, I need about 842,798 more people to be aware of and like my stories than do now. So I don't see it happening tomorrow.
**Very rough estimate. It might only be 10,000. Or it could be 100,000.)
Got my book early. Perused it a bit... a paragraph here, another there. Kinda liking Jack so far. I'll fire it up this weekend if time allows.
From my blog. I quite rightfully can't post the link, and I'm not sure where to post this, but here we go.
The Day's Passing
The time has come. The decision was finally resolved the night before. Much sorrow, many tears.
The day dawned sad. We helped the old girl down the stairs to go outside, gave her a treat when she came in, then took her back up to give her a bath to make her pretty and shiny and to smell nice. It's hard to think of this being the last day of our 16 years together without tears stinging the eyes.
It is a traitorous feeling to be extra nice and caring with your old furfriend when you're all about to take those final steps. In our hearts, we know it's right. There is little joy left in her life except when it comes time for treats. The car ride that used to send her into a tail-wagging frenzy no longer has attraction. Eliminating is a chore and too often not happening where it's supposed to. Going up a couple stairs presents a mini-Everest for her. Heck, even just her stooped stance looks painful, although her expression doesn't change, and her tail wags, which just makes the decision harder.
We've seen it coming for a while, so we've given her special attention, good food, and yummy snacks these past months. Still, when it's time to make that dreadful call, and the final morning dawns, it comes with a wrench that causes you to wonder if you're even a worthy human being for making this decision. You realize as you wash her down that this will never happen again. As you hand her the chew stick, it's the last one that will pass from your hand to her mouth. When your eyes meet, you wonder, does she know? And what would she think if she did?
My wife and I have been extraordinarily fortunate in the pet department. Two different dogs have been our companions, our close friends, part of our family, for pretty much the last 30 years. They each in their own time fit into our household as easily as a stockinged foot slides into an comfortable, broken-in shoe. In the current case, some of our grandkids have literally known her all their lives.
Back in my younger days, this kind of pet was "just a dog." Much of society is a little more enlightened now, and we see how affection, communication, and bonding develops. There's a lot more going on in that canine soul and brain tissue than many of us gave credit for in past years. And now science is confirming what our intuitions always told us. It's no more "just a dog" than it is "just a person."
But now it's time to go. I start the car, then take her out. She used to be eager and jump in. Nowadays, she's hesitant and has to be lifted to the seat. So I do, and in what might be funny but is an unkind circumstance, which I am absolutely not making up, the radio starts playing "Mr. Bojangles" as soon as I open the door. Thank you, Fate, for that last little twist of the emotional knife.
...
We have taken that ride, and we're back now. The veterinarian was extraordinarily kind and supportive. We gave our furry ward a good send-off, with tasty munchies, petting her, murmuring encouragement, and loving her until life left her eyes, and we were not able to stop even then. Still, as our tears flowed and grief washed over us in fresh waves, we were nonetheless assured about our decision and glad that she passed so easily and painlessly, with good things filling her awareness until life blinked out. And I'll come back in a few days and collect her ashes, because she was that important to us.
Just a dog? Just a comfort and companion for my wife as I traveled. Just a guard for us when someone came to the house. Just a play pal for the neighborhood kids. Just someone who greeted us with unconditional love and happiness whenever we came home. Just someone with whom we shared life, joys, setbacks, and love as easily and closely as we would anyone else in our lives.
Nope, never just a dog. A lifelong companion.
As we return to the house, it echoes in all of our senses with her long presence. In due time, we will start to move her things to storage or give them away. But not yet. In our moment of dreadful loss and emptiness, we're holding those echoes close.
Good-bye, old friend. We miss you already.
The Day's Passing
The time has come. The decision was finally resolved the night before. Much sorrow, many tears.
The day dawned sad. We helped the old girl down the stairs to go outside, gave her a treat when she came in, then took her back up to give her a bath to make her pretty and shiny and to smell nice. It's hard to think of this being the last day of our 16 years together without tears stinging the eyes.
It is a traitorous feeling to be extra nice and caring with your old furfriend when you're all about to take those final steps. In our hearts, we know it's right. There is little joy left in her life except when it comes time for treats. The car ride that used to send her into a tail-wagging frenzy no longer has attraction. Eliminating is a chore and too often not happening where it's supposed to. Going up a couple stairs presents a mini-Everest for her. Heck, even just her stooped stance looks painful, although her expression doesn't change, and her tail wags, which just makes the decision harder.
We've seen it coming for a while, so we've given her special attention, good food, and yummy snacks these past months. Still, when it's time to make that dreadful call, and the final morning dawns, it comes with a wrench that causes you to wonder if you're even a worthy human being for making this decision. You realize as you wash her down that this will never happen again. As you hand her the chew stick, it's the last one that will pass from your hand to her mouth. When your eyes meet, you wonder, does she know? And what would she think if she did?
My wife and I have been extraordinarily fortunate in the pet department. Two different dogs have been our companions, our close friends, part of our family, for pretty much the last 30 years. They each in their own time fit into our household as easily as a stockinged foot slides into an comfortable, broken-in shoe. In the current case, some of our grandkids have literally known her all their lives.
Back in my younger days, this kind of pet was "just a dog." Much of society is a little more enlightened now, and we see how affection, communication, and bonding develops. There's a lot more going on in that canine soul and brain tissue than many of us gave credit for in past years. And now science is confirming what our intuitions always told us. It's no more "just a dog" than it is "just a person."
But now it's time to go. I start the car, then take her out. She used to be eager and jump in. Nowadays, she's hesitant and has to be lifted to the seat. So I do, and in what might be funny but is an unkind circumstance, which I am absolutely not making up, the radio starts playing "Mr. Bojangles" as soon as I open the door. Thank you, Fate, for that last little twist of the emotional knife.
...
We have taken that ride, and we're back now. The veterinarian was extraordinarily kind and supportive. We gave our furry ward a good send-off, with tasty munchies, petting her, murmuring encouragement, and loving her until life left her eyes, and we were not able to stop even then. Still, as our tears flowed and grief washed over us in fresh waves, we were nonetheless assured about our decision and glad that she passed so easily and painlessly, with good things filling her awareness until life blinked out. And I'll come back in a few days and collect her ashes, because she was that important to us.
Just a dog? Just a comfort and companion for my wife as I traveled. Just a guard for us when someone came to the house. Just a play pal for the neighborhood kids. Just someone who greeted us with unconditional love and happiness whenever we came home. Just someone with whom we shared life, joys, setbacks, and love as easily and closely as we would anyone else in our lives.
Nope, never just a dog. A lifelong companion.
As we return to the house, it echoes in all of our senses with her long presence. In due time, we will start to move her things to storage or give them away. But not yet. In our moment of dreadful loss and emptiness, we're holding those echoes close.
Good-bye, old friend. We miss you already.
...my heart goes out to you and your wife, but this was a beautiful tribute to a life faithfully and lovingly lived.....
Tears flow as I read your tribute. Indeed, companions, never just a dog. I have been there and know the pain of loss. I hold you and your wife in deep thoughts. The spirit of your companion now runs free. (((grandpa and grandma)))
I've had the e-book cover of "Chance Encounter" reworked. I owe a tremendous debt to my own Number One Fan who did the cover in the first place, but it took just a bit of a professional touch to make it right. Number One Fan agrees enthusiastically.
My book cover designer keeps hitting it out of the park. Here's her rework of the cover to "Up and Down." I told her it's perfect.
One more, and blessedly for you folks, the last one. For now.
Background story.
In my initial Kindle foray, I uploaded three titles ("Chance Encounter" (novella), "Up and Down" (short stories), and "Out of Time" (novella)). All the covers were DIY, except the "yourself" of the Y in that acronym was my very own Number One Fan who liked Photoshop and wanted to help me gain mass acceptance. Her Photoshop went well. The mass acceptance, not so much.
So in "Chance Encounter," with a friend's and his daughter's permission, I got her in handcuffs, made her all bedraggled, and photographed her. If you look at the cover, she looks like she's stumbling through the woods. In reality, she's in a few pine trees and scrubs by the side of their household pool. I frizzed up the photo, and my No. 1 Fan did the rest - but she was never happy with the font.
In "Up and Down," I paid for stock photos, and No. 1 Fan did the rest. She was never happy with the font.
In "Out of Time" (portrayed here), I took a picture of my son and a family friend with a fake skull. I had to Photoshop the skull to make it look more real. We took the photos on a sunny afternoon in front of a Colorado sandstone backdrop. I played with the lighting and sent it to No. 1 Fan. She made it look more like inside a cave. It was great, but she was never happy with the font.
Yes, in all of these, I properly credited my friend's daughter, the stock images acquisition, my son and our friend, and my Number One Fan for their contributions - after asking them if they were comfortable being credited.
Now that a more professional touch has been applied, No. 1 Fan and I are all thrilled with the covers. In fact, for "Up and Down," we're beyond thrilled. And N1F is finally happy with the fonts.
All titles available on Amazon. Just plug in my name, and you'll find it. For two bucks, you can check on me and make sure I've properly credited people. (Boy, don't I just have the best marketing pitch, like, ever.)
I have another book coming out March 15th. I've decided, not surprisingly, that that cover needs the professional touch as well.
P.S., last edit: This is actually one of my favorite stories. It's thoughtful, much of it is based on real science (more or less), and just the title has a twist to it that I can't reveal. Besides, our own Kurben vetted it - and yes, he has credit, too, in the acknowledgments.
You know how you write a story, and it's fine, and people like it, and oh, that's all nice, but then there's a special one that you secretly think, "Yeah. That's what I'm about"? Okay, maybe not. But that's this one, for me.
Background story.
In my initial Kindle foray, I uploaded three titles ("Chance Encounter" (novella), "Up and Down" (short stories), and "Out of Time" (novella)). All the covers were DIY, except the "yourself" of the Y in that acronym was my very own Number One Fan who liked Photoshop and wanted to help me gain mass acceptance. Her Photoshop went well. The mass acceptance, not so much.
So in "Chance Encounter," with a friend's and his daughter's permission, I got her in handcuffs, made her all bedraggled, and photographed her. If you look at the cover, she looks like she's stumbling through the woods. In reality, she's in a few pine trees and scrubs by the side of their household pool. I frizzed up the photo, and my No. 1 Fan did the rest - but she was never happy with the font.
In "Up and Down," I paid for stock photos, and No. 1 Fan did the rest. She was never happy with the font.
In "Out of Time" (portrayed here), I took a picture of my son and a family friend with a fake skull. I had to Photoshop the skull to make it look more real. We took the photos on a sunny afternoon in front of a Colorado sandstone backdrop. I played with the lighting and sent it to No. 1 Fan. She made it look more like inside a cave. It was great, but she was never happy with the font.
Yes, in all of these, I properly credited my friend's daughter, the stock images acquisition, my son and our friend, and my Number One Fan for their contributions - after asking them if they were comfortable being credited.
Now that a more professional touch has been applied, No. 1 Fan and I are all thrilled with the covers. In fact, for "Up and Down," we're beyond thrilled. And N1F is finally happy with the fonts.
All titles available on Amazon. Just plug in my name, and you'll find it. For two bucks, you can check on me and make sure I've properly credited people. (Boy, don't I just have the best marketing pitch, like, ever.)
I have another book coming out March 15th. I've decided, not surprisingly, that that cover needs the professional touch as well.
P.S., last edit: This is actually one of my favorite stories. It's thoughtful, much of it is based on real science (more or less), and just the title has a twist to it that I can't reveal. Besides, our own Kurben vetted it - and yes, he has credit, too, in the acknowledgments.
You know how you write a story, and it's fine, and people like it, and oh, that's all nice, but then there's a special one that you secretly think, "Yeah. That's what I'm about"? Okay, maybe not. But that's this one, for me.
Thanks grampa I've been exploring for a few hours and must compliment both the site itself and your writing in particular. I don't get out much but I'll be back for more of grampas' stories.
A few hours? That is most gracious and gratifying. Thank you very much, Towermeister.
A new blog post.
My blog is a mixture of reminiscence, punditry, short stories, wistful ponderings, photography, and cooking.
In this one, I finally get back to cooking. Just minor cooking. But cooking nonetheless.
grandpa-tells-stories.com/sporkful/blueberry-compote-not-compost/
My blog is a mixture of reminiscence, punditry, short stories, wistful ponderings, photography, and cooking.
In this one, I finally get back to cooking. Just minor cooking. But cooking nonetheless.
grandpa-tells-stories.com/sporkful/blueberry-compote-not-compost/
I like the compote. Would go well with an angel food cake! Must try it.