The king is dead . . .

Now that my reign as Writer's Digest' Your Story winner is over, I assume it's kosher to post my story now.

"The Truth"

Marty slung his towel across his shoulders and jogged a few paces to catch up with Caleb. “So what did you tell your mom?”

“I told her the truth.”

“Man, she lets you do everything. How do you do it?”

“I never lie to my mom.”

“That’s cause he’s a goody two shoes.”

“Leave him alone, Joey.”

“It’s okay, Marty. Joey doesn’t bother me.”

Marty stepped closer to Caleb and whispered, “But he’s always picking on everybody.”

“Come on girls,” Joey called out. “We don’t have all day.”

The trail took the boys through the woods and over two hills until they came to a large rock formation. Joey climbed onto a small boulder. “Here we are. The pond’s on the other side. You girls ain’t scared of a little climb are ya?”

“Boy, I can’t wait to jump in. Is it deep enough?”

“Yes, Farty Marty, it’s deep enough.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Joey reached down and petted Marty’s hair. “Relax, Farty, I’m just kidding.” Joey dodged Marty’s swing. “Besides, you got nothing to worry about. You can handle that jump better than we can.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see me and Caleb, we got muscles. But you, well, everybody knows lard floats.”

Marty swung at Joey, but missed.

The trio found their way up the rock face until they reached a natural platform. They looked down in collective awe at the clear, jade pool below them. Fed by a small stream, it was surrounded by rock walls save for one side where the water trickled over a worn shelf which provided a perfect spot for laying out in the sun.

“Wow, this is great.” Marty started to climb down the path to the water.

“I thought you wanted to jump in.”

Marty stopped and looked back. “From up here? It’s too high.”

“Awwww, what’s the matter? You scared?”

“No.” Marty stepped to the edge and looked down.
“If you’re so brave, you do it.”

“No problem.” Joey took off his shoes and filled one with the contents from his pockets. “Let me show you girls how it’s done.” He raised his hands Olympic style and dove head first. He exited the water with a victory howl and climbed up the path as he watched Caleb jump in. “Okay, Farty Marty, your turn.”

“Stop calling me that!” Marty took off his shoes but left his shirt on. He stood near the ledge and stared at the distant water.

“I knew you couldn’t do it.”

“I can. Just give me a minute.”

Joey plucked him behind the ear.

“Quit it!”

Caleb climbed out of the water. “It’s okay, Marty. It’s not as high as it looks. You can do it.”

Marty tried to calm himself as Joey chanted. “Farty. Farty. Farty.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Farty. Farty.” Joey plucked Marty’s ear.

“Stop it!” Marty turned around and pushed him. Joey stumbled sideways and tripped over a rock, stumbling down the path to the rock shelf below. Blood pooled around his head.

Marty and Caleb stared at each other, unable to move. Caleb finally walked over and put his head next to Joey’s.

“Is he ?”

Caleb looked up at Marty, nodded, and climbed up the path.

Marty couldn’t stop his body from shaking. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“It’s okay, Marty.”

“Oh, man, there gonna put me in prison. I’m going to jail.”

“No you’re not. I’m gonna call my mom and tell her what happened. It was an accident, that’s all. Don’t worry. She’ll believe me.” Caleb retrieved his cell phone and made the call.

“Is she calling the police?”

“Yeah, but relax. She’s gonna tell the police the truth.”

A moan broke through the silence. Marty looked down at the body. “He’s still alive. What do we do? What do we do?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” Caleb started down the path.

Relief washed over Marty. He stayed put and watched Caleb. “Is he alive?”

“Yeah, but barely.”

“What do we do?”

“I told you. I’ll take care of it.” Caleb carefully turned Joey’s head exposing the wound. He knelt beside Joey, held a large rock over him, and smashed it against his head.

Marty stumbled back a step. “What did you do that for?”

Caleb threw the rock in the water and brushed the dirt off his hands. “I told my mom he was dead.”

“So!”

“I never lie to my mom.”

Photos from the road . . .

Arches National Park.













Golf in Moab, Utah.














Bridge in Sedona, Arizon.














Click on each to get a better look.

Conference notes . . .

Last week, I attended the Colorado Christian Writer's Conference in Estes Park, CO. It was the third one I've attended and I've noticed some patterns.

(Btw, I do recommend this conference. The beautiful setting and relaxed atmosphere make for a more personal experience than the others I've attended.)

The authors and organizers are the real friends of the pre-pubbed writers. They are selfless and eager to help the un-pubbed get pubbed.

On the other hand, the editors and agents put up walls. They are stand off-ish and seem to try their best to avoid everyone except their colleagues. It's hard not to blame them. They know everyone there wants something from them so it's a different relational dynamic. I'm sure there is a small percentage of pre-pubbed writers who have acted in a way to cause this jadedness, but I wish there was some way to reverse it. Even if you don't want to pitch to one of them, it's hard to have a conversation because they are so on guard. But most seem to enjoy it, albeit uncomfortably, and contribute valuable info.

But there is a couple of them don't even seem to enjoy it. I wonder why they are even there. They either don't take appointments are announce they are not looking for anything. They then sit on a panel or two and then go home. I guess a free trip they can write off is incentive enough. Then again, I don't really know what their motivation is.

The classes are good, but it's information that can be easily acquired in a few hours perusing the internet. I am always shocked by how much my fellow conferees don't know. Not all of them mind you, I don't want to insult anyone. Just enough to make me wonder.

The critiques are always great. Anytime you can have successful authors read your work and give you feedback is a good thing. Even if you don't agree with everything they say, they know what they're doing and can contribute something to the whole of your knowledge.

Notes from the road - the wierd.

Courtesy of my local library, I listened to a couple of Audio books while driving the 65+ hours during my vacation.

One of those books was Dekker's Boneman's Daughters. In the book, the killer likes to murder his victims by breaking their bones without breaking their skin-while they're awake. As I passed through southern and southwest Texas, where the story was set, I noticed a trend. The narrator would mention a location and then I'd see it. Now I'm not one given to be irrationally afraid, but driving alone on deserted highways can play its tricks.

I kept half-expecting the lunatic from No Country for Old Men to show up.

Notes from the road . . .

Here's my thoughts from 8 days on the road:

Texas is BIG. I mean it's like a whole other country.

I thought west Texas and Arizona were flat. They are not. I'm stunned by how little water there is. Almost every river and creek I crossed from San Antonio through New Mexico to Arizona to Utah to Colorado to Kansas was dry.

It was 104 in Phoenix. Hot right? Not really. I mean it's hot, but it ain't South Louisiana humid hot. It felt like maybe 91. If you don't believe me, come down here in August.

A word about the Grand Canyon: Wow!

Utah is beautiful and the food is surprisingly good.

I love Americans of Mexican heritage. The people of Vail, Colorado could learn a lot from them. It's the rudest, least friendliest place I've ever been.

Woke up Saturday at 6:30 am, attended conference until 2:30 pm, then drove straight to my sister's house -- 24 hr drive. Picked up my dog, drove home, Fell asleep at 10:45 pm. Awake for 40 hours straight. Now I know what it's like to be drunk. At least I think it felt the same. I've never been drunk. Okay, once when I was 15. But that was peach schnapps and orange juice and I just got sick.

Next post: conference notes.

The odd file . . .

At a Christian writer's conference I attended, a fellow conferee asked the editor panel when they thought Christian erotica would become acceptable. To his credit, the editor who fielded the question said "Never" and went on to give a really considerate, thorough answer to a question whose answer seemed obvious.

Of course, she wasn't satisfied and went on to give the obligatory arguments. Sex is a gift from God. He invented it. It's part of who we are as His creation. So what's the big deal?

While all of these statements are true, she ignored the concepts of inciting lust, temptation, and coveting. Yes, it's still coveting even if the covetee is a fictitious character. And, she used up 12 minutes of valuable editor panel time on a topic that helped no one else in attendance.

Need to vent Sidenote: I had the good fortune to have this person sit next to me at this editor panel session. Despite all the empty rows, she sat 2 seats from me and plopped all of her belongings on top of my soft-cover briefcase. When the hour was up, I stood up to leave but her belongings were still on my belongings. I gave the obligatory slight pull and said excuse me. She was looking my direction, but didn't remove her belongings. I had no choice but to lift her things and place them on the next chair so I could retrieve my stuff. Of course, you probably know what happened next. She gave me a disgusted look like I'm the one who was in the wrong.

Bait and Switch . . .

Most of my acquaintances and friends are shocked when they first discover that I don't believe in evolution. Even when they all know I'm Christian.

The reason: Because these same people consider me one of the most brilliant people they know. Seriously. Go ahead, ask them . . . I told ya.

So successful have the evolutionists been, that to many, it seems impossible that any educated person could not believe it.

Usually, after the initial shock, they proceed to bring up a supposed aspect of evolution. This is normally when I have to stop them and inform them that they are actually talking about natural selection which does happen. They give me a perplexed look and I have to explain.

Similarly, I once asked my biology professor to give me his best example of evolution. He did. I then informed him that he gave me a great example of the alteration of physical traits of a specific species due to changes in the ecosystem of that particular species, but he did not give me an example of evolution.

He looked at me perplexed and said "Huh?"

That brilliant response almost threw me, but I managed to collect myself and explain to him that Darwin's book was called the Origin of Species, not the theory of the mechanism behind which physical traits are slightly altered.

In other words, the only thing evolutionists can prove is that certain species over time produce generations that are slightly taller, slightly recolored, have slightly shorter or longer appendages. It is, HOWEVER, the same species. If anyone believes they are different species, then they have to believe that me and Shaq are different species and that makes them a racist -- bammo -- I win the debate. It actually gets worse. According to the standard of what constitutes a species, then me and anyone of you with blond air are not the same species.

The pro-evols have almost completely succeeded at blurring the line between Micro and Macro evolution. They have convinced the masses that by proving natural selection, they have proven the invention of species through natural selection. NOT THE SAME THING.

There is no evidence whatsoever of a species being created through minute changes in the physical traits of a parent species. There are no transitional fossils detailing these minute changes---only huge leaps which are backfilled only by conjecture and false hope. Think about it. If it takes millions upon millions of years of minute changes for a one species to become another, then all of those minute changes should be seen in the fossil record. They are not. Even Darwin said, that without the eventual discovery of these transitional fossils, his theory falls apart.

Their tactic has become so successful, that many Christians have adapted the "God used evolution to create the earth as know it" theory. That way they can believe in creationism and prove they are intelligent because they believe in evolution at the same time. The problem with this line of thought is that it limits God. God doesn't need billions of years of a mechanism which bows to the natural laws He created to create the Earth as we see it. He can just do it. He's God. He transcends His own laws. Including time.

So cheer up Christians. Not believing in evolution does not mean you're ignorant. In fact, you can prove how intelligent you are by not falling for the bait and switch.

A Gift From God. . . Really?

If I have a gift for writing (big IF), I'm not sure I can claim it's a gift from God. Let me explain:

I once had an "acquaintance" who was an okay singer. She wasn't great, but good. She once told me (after singing in church and getting the usual pats on the back ) that her singing was a gift from God.

I thought about that statement and responded differently than most people do. (not to her personally) My first reaction was Why? Why would God do that? It didn't make sense to me. If it were a gift from God, why wouldn't He have made her better? And this path of thinking usually goes on to say that God grants us all gifts. Like pastors who try to pass off cleaning the church as a gift. That's not a gift, that's a wonderful person who has a spirit of servanthood toward his/her God.

One thing many don't seem to realize is that every time you say something, you're also saying the opposite or the reverse inference. For instance, when Mrs. Okay Singer tells someone that her voice is a gift from God, she is also saying "God chose me over you. That's right, He chose to give me a gift that brings me personal glory and adulation and you the gift of cleaning my toilet." Furthermore, since she was also beautiful, she was also saying that God made me beautiful and talented and he chose not to do that for you.

Another problem with this thinking for me is that the secular world is full of talented people. Did Satan give them those gifts? If God is giving gifts in fields such as music, writing, art, etc, for the purpose of winning the lost, wouldn't Christians be leading all music sales and book sales and movie sales. Doesn't happen except for the occasional exception.

Here's what I think. Most of our so-called gifts -- we're born with. God is looking for a willing heart. If you're willing, no matter your level of talent or skills, He can use you and your abilities to move mountains or affect one life. Which is the same as moving a mountain.

One thing to remember is that we're not destined to win the world for Jesus. The Bible says that only a minority will choose to accept Christ.

Disclaimer: The girl in question cannot possibly be identified. I didn't give enough info. And, it might not be a girl.

Disclaimer 2: This is one of those things I don't have completely figured out. My thoughts on this are subject to change or amendment. If you think I'm wrong, please comment. I'd love to hear other thoughts on this.

Double taxation . . .

I just finished doing my taxes. No, wait, I did my taxes months ago. That's right - I just finished signing up for the CCWC writers conference. It actually felt the same. There were mailings and forms and deadlines and re-reading of instructions and I wasn't even sure they got the forms or if I filled them out right and not to mention . . . Wait . . . just got confirmation. I knew I did it right.

I've decided to take the long route to get there. Louisiana to Estes Park, Colorado via the Grand Canyon. 40hrs of driving.

I'm gonna hit 3 places I've always wanted to go. The Grand Canyon, Arches National Park, and The Rocky Mountain National Park.

I'm still worried about the attitude, I mean altitude, at Estes Park. 8,000 ft. I had enough trouble in Colorado Springs at 6,400 ft. Kids were pointing at me, adults were laughing at me. I even had to take breaks when I took the elevator. Keep in mind, I live 4ft below sea level. So if you go or see any pictures from the Conference, I'll be the guy in the background gasping for air.

I'm boycotting Burger King . . . that'll scare 'em

I've hated the new BK ads since day one. (By new I mean the series of ads over the last few years that have taken a severe departure from the tone of the ads I grew up with.)

I really hope these ads are not working. If they are, this does not bode well for the future of our society. The new SpongeBob ad is way over the line for me. What really amazes me is that the people in control of Spongebob would allow this. Hmmm, maybe I'll boycott them both.

The only problem is: I already don't eat Burger King or watch Spongebob.

Doh!