Some Activity.

A couple of rejections popped into my inbox this week. I originally had high hopes for these stories with these particular markets, but as time went on I had a feeling they were going to be rejected. At least they were personal rejections which means they were close. Real close.

Oh well.

These ones didn't hurt at all. I'll give them the once over and send them back out on their merry way. It's been quite a while since I've had a rejection that hurts. And the last one that did still aches from time to time. The wound is scratched open - especially when I see the cover image online or on my shelf, and wonder why my story didn't fit. I still think it would have been a great match.

There are others out there in the wildwoods, and a few deadlines fast approaching. Hopefully I'll have good news next time I post.

Fingers crossed.

Vale: Neil Armstrong.

One day, when I was six years old, the entire school was herded into a large room where we sat and watched grainy images on a regular sized TV as Neil Armstrong stepped onto the lunar surface for the very first time. It's still one of the few memories I have from that particular school. It was cool and exciting to think that man had walked on the moon.

From all accounts, Neil was a nerdy engineer who was calm and logical. A quiet, private gentleman who wanted none of the hoopla that surrounded the event. (Apparently that was the main reason he was selected over Buzz Aldrin to be first.)

A couple of years ago I read a wonderful book about the twelve astronauts who'd been on the moon. Moondust, by Andrew Smith, looks at the men, and how their lives were affected by having walked on the moon. Lyrical and poetic and engaging, I still highly recommend the book.

Armstrong, reclusive and private, rarely gave interviews or spoke to the media. For this book, however, he consented and spoke with the author.

In a moment of unusual frankness, Neil Armstrong once recalled standing on the Moon and noticing he could blot out the Earth with his thumb. Did that make him feel really big, he was asked? 'No,' the great astronaut replied. 'It made me feel really, really small.'

We haven't been back to the moon since 1972. As Smith says:

'Of over 400 people who have now into space, only 27 have ever left Earth orbit and seen her from the perspective of Deep Space - all American and all between the Christmases of 1968 and 1972.'

And only twelve have walked on it. Perhaps it's time we went back. With current technology, and people on the surface, one can only imagine the possibilities.

As for Neil, he's now taken a bigger step into the unknown. Have a safe journey. Thank you for the inspiration and dreams.

Four For Four.

Where has this year gone? It's zooming past, and seems to be getting faster. We're almost through August, and there are only four months left in 2012.

And in those four months I have four stories coming out - one per month.

Four for four. You've got to love alliteration.

Bread And Butter.

Way back in the early 90s, while teaching English in Japan, I bought a couple of grammar books to help me along. I wasn't qualified to teach English (or anything else for that matter) and was unsure of a lot of the terminology.

One of the books I bought, Elements of Style (Strunk & White) continues to rear its head. Jack Dann in his workshop repeated "Strunk and White"  almost as often as "Show, don't tell." They were virtually mantras by the time we were done.

Since the 90s I have updated my edition of this book, and re-read it from time to time. I've also completed a couple of degrees in English and English Education, and ended up teaching conversation and grammar in Japan for around six years. I've also taught high school English for 8 years now.  I'm reasonably confident in my grammar, and I tend to write very clean copy.

I recently stumbled across a blog by a "writer" lamenting a lack of success and sales. Unfortunately his ramblings were almost undecipherable. Sentences were incomplete, punctuation was missing, words were misspelled. Whole sections of the post made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Surprisingly, this writer claimed some publication credits. I didn't follow through on checking them out, and I'd never heard of any of the markets, so I'd question the status of said credits. Of course, I haven't read any of his stories either. Perhaps he's a brilliant ideas man, who has an amazing editor who pulls it all together.

I suspect not.

Strunk and White. Strunk and White. Strunk and White. Om Mani Padme Hum.

Grammar is a writer's bread and butter. It's the foundation, the basics. Typos and spelling mistakes can be forgiven, and that's what spellcheckers and beta-readers are for. But tense changes and no sentence structure? That's not on.

A Week That Was.

I've written before about how the writing game is a bit like fishing. You throw in a few lines and see who takes the bait. If no-one does, you cast again and wait. A lot of waiting.

No nibbles this week, although one of the fish I'd already landed gave a wriggle in the bucket. The contract arrived for a story I sold a few months ago. Signed and returned.  Does a writer ever get tired of making a sale, signing a contract or receiving copies of a book with their story inside?

I don't think I will.

My computer is finally dying.  The old beast has served me well these past 5 or 6 years, but is starting to fail. USBs keep dropping out and screens keep locking. Even though, it's surprisingly quiet for an old thing. But a new machine arrives today and so I've backed everything up ready for transferring to the new one. Ah, technology. I'm so 21st Century.

Speaking of 21st Century and technology, I'm really enjoying Instagram. I'm starting to build some followers, and regularly hit 35-50 likes on my photos. Feel free to follow me. I'm nihilon.

At home it's been a strange old week. I've been off work for a couple of days with a throat thing. Lots of rest, warmth, lemon drinks and Game of Thrones to watch. I also watched The Phantom Menace, which I hadn't seen since it was first released. It wasn't as terrible as I remembered it, although I can see why it was panned at the time. OK, so a lot of world-building and history-setting at the cost of narrative, but I must admit to having enjoyed large sections of it purely as escapism. At least, a lot more than I thought I would.

On a nostalgic note, I walked past a bakery yesterday and was hit with the smell of warm yeast. It took me back to when I was a primary school kid and we went on an excursion to Harrison's Bakery. I think it was on Canterbury Road in Vermont, and I loved every minute of it. They showed us how they made bread, and even let as shape one each. I hope they didn't sell those ones.

And that smell? It reminded me of the importance of including all the senses in writing, as they trigger recognition with readers.

And no, even though I was tempted I didn't rush in and buy any bread.

Vale: Harry Harrison.

Harry Harrison has passed after a long illness.

Shortly after I discovered science fiction, a friend introduced me to the Stainless Steel Rat series and I devoured every one of them. Later, I read Make Room, Make Room (which became Soylent Green), A Rebel In Time, and A Transatlantic Tunnel, Hurrah! amongst a host of others.

Another Grand Master of science fiction has gone.

RIP Harry. I wish I could have met you.

Hopes And Dreams And Goals And Aspirations.

In my 'other' life, I'm a High School English teacher. In addition to this I've recently qualified and taken on the role of Careers' Counsellor as well.

And so I've just spent the past few months counselling hundreds of teenagers regarding their future careers and course selections for next year.

Interesting, to say the least.

I love working with students about their hopes, dreams and ambitions. And I'm constantly amazed at some of the futures these students aspire to. Some, of course, are obvious. Some are complete surprises. And then there are those that I suspect are probably unattainable.

How do you gently suggest to a student that reaching their goal is impossible without crushing their spirit and aspirations? Simple. You don't.

You encourage them to reach that goal, while pointing out the practicalities and difficulties, and advise them to have back-up plans. As you do with every student. You never know, they might make it.

I've been heartened by the number of students who want to go into creative areas: photography, sculpture, painting film-making and, happily, writing. And of course these are some of the career paths where success can be quite limited. A back-up plan is vital.

A couple of these kids have been aware that I write and asked me about my experiences. It's been kind of humbling that a few have even read one of my stories.

Who knows? Among this group of teenagers with dreams and hopes and wishes and aspirations, there might be another Stephen King. I look forward to that.