New Year's? Are They Doing That Again?

Oh, yeah, New Years ... we're doing that again this year. And after a century of waiting, we'll be back into the Roaring Twenties, so there's that.

The Teen years? As with the teen years of people, they were kind of a combination of good times and deep suckage. Suckage is a word. Okay, it is now.

Politically, there were U.S. Presidents everybody disliked, although at different times. (And that's all I've got to say about that, so let it go.)

Medically--well, as I write this the doctor told me two days ago that I appeared to have a viral respiratory infection. I'd gone in to have my cholesterol checked. (Oh, and my cholesterol is high again.) It was the Decade of the Sinus Infection (which is also the title of my upcoming post-apocalypse novel), with a kidney stone and a few "procedures" thrown in.

Personally, it was the decade a car I owned got totaled for the very first time. Sure, it wasn't my fault; but neither is Congress, and I suffered from that, too.

But you know what? Great things happened to me in the Teens. It was, after all, 2011 when my first book was published. I got married to my fabulous wife/editor/cover artist/book designer/co-author/whip cracker, Emily. And we replaced the wrecked car with my very first SUV, which I liked way more than I thought I would, and it has a friggin' computer screen in it, and how cool is that?

Sure, I'll be helpless when the computers take over, but maybe we should give 'em a chance. They can't all be like the local malfunctioning change machine.

So what the heck, I'm going to go with the Roaring Twenties starting just as good as last time, and hopefully not ending as bad as last time.

New Year's resolutions? Nope. I don't do that. Therein lies madness.

Our dog resolves to keep guarding against invading gnomes. Apparently they taste like chicken.

However, the doctor has also, on two occasions in the last two months, told me I'm about to die (although it wasn't worded quite that way), so I am taking the occasion to make some mild lifestyle changes.

For instance, did you know it's possible to have a meal without a salt shaker? It's true.

Also, the green stuff your parents used to make you eat? Not a form of torture. Who knew?

I draw the line on calling exercise "fun", but I've learned the ways of distracting myself while walking, so there's that. By the way, audio books would have saved me a lot of falls and bumps on the head when I was younger. Usually the book cushioned the impact.

I can't call them resolutions, because my plans for 2020 are to simply go on with what I was already doing. I have eleven published books, another being looked at by a publisher, two more being shopped around, and still another I'm working on now. If that's not enough to keep me out of trouble, I don't know what is.

What else will I do this coming year? Work to pay bills, write to make money to retire so I can write to pay bills, and keep my wife happy so she doesn't use her sword collection on me, before I've made enough money writing so I can retire and still pay bills.

And before you ask, selling my wife's sword collection is off the table.

Oh, what the heck: I resolve to enjoy more sunrises and sunsets

http://markrhunter.com/

A Writer's Work is Never Done, if All Goes Well

I hit 50,000 words in my latest novel rough draft!

I need to get that thing done, so I can let it cool while I work on my non-fiction project. I'd have them both done by now, if not for all those bills and, on a related note, that pesky full-time job.

But my hands have healed up from the sewer line fiasco, so at least typing isn't painful anymore.

Just for a treat, here's a picture of granddaughter Lilli at Christmas, and an excerpt from the rough draft of We Love Trouble:

"You should be writing."

 This is from Chapter One of We Love Trouble, which is narrated by an unusual dog named Wulfgar. Victoria Noble has volunteered herself and her husband, to return a horse to the relatives of a girl who was injured in an apparent accident:

We all watched as the SUV receded into the fog, which was thankfully starting to thin. Then Travis turned to Victoria. “Why …?”

“She was wearing the hat.”

I sniffed the hat. She’d been wearing it, for sure.

“See? Wulfgar agrees. If she’d been galloping through the forest, it wouldn’t have worked its way to the back of her head and stayed there. So she sustained those injuries before the fall.”

“Hm.” Taking the hat from her, Travis examined it. “So … a hat trick, and from this you’ve determined foul play might be indicated. Obviously the deputy has no intention of following up on that.”

“We’ve seen his type of cop—he’s a good guy, but no imagination. We have to stick around long enough to make sure justice is served.”

“Hopefully after breakfast is served. Well, we were going to stay in the park, anyway.” Travis kissed the top of her head. “How do we get the horse back to the camp?”

We all looked at the horse. “Hey, you want to go home?” I asked it in horse, which is kind of like zebra, only less guttural.

“Yeah. Home.” Picking up its head, it looked up the road. A sign had just emerged from the thinning mist.

“Son of a gun.” It was a little too far for me to read—I traded my long-distance vision for other senses—but from Travis’ reaction it looked like the entrance was just up the road. “You want to lead him, or should I?”

“Lead him?” Victoria already had a foot in a stirrup. “Are you intoxicated, Mr. Noble? I’m riding.”

“Get on,” the horse said, wearily.

Travis didn’t seem so sure, but he stood there with the hat and watched as she mounted. “You know, it’s been a long time since you rode a horse free range, so to speak. You’ve mostly been on trail rides the last couple of years.”

Victoria settled herself in and took the reins. “It’s like riding a bike.”

“Yeah, a bike that giant teeth and iron shoes on its wheels.” Sighing, Travis looked at me. “Wulfie, you want to ride or walk?”

“I’ll stay by the horse and bite him if he hurts Victoria.” Travis didn't understand me, and if the horse heard, he didn't react.

http://markrhunter.com/

Happy birthday to my daughter Jill

Happy birthday, Jill Mapes!

That's my number two daughter on the right, me on the left, and in the middle is her early Christmas present from two years ago. They get their cuteness from ... I don't know ... upbringing?

Lilli doesn't look all that happy at the moment, but only because she had to take time out from all her new toys and books to get her picture taken.

Questioning Christmas Songs

This was first published in my weekly column, way back in 2011. And yet, the songs remain the same.


I was going to do something serious for my Christmas writing this year. It’s a serious time; besides, as I write this there’s a special on Discovery about various disasters that could destroy the world. 

Way to get into the holiday spirit, Discovery!

The Wreath of KHAAAANNNNNN!!!!


But serious times are when we need to lighten up the most. That’s why all those great movie musicals were popular during the Great Depression; it might also explain the popularity of the TV show Glee, one of the most profoundly unserious shows since Gilligan’s Island, even when it’s dealing with real issues. And that’s a great segue, because Glee does more song and dance numbers than a Congressional hearing, and as it happens I want to talk about Christmas songs.

If you can’t make fun of Christmas songs, what can you make fun of? So let’s take a look at some popular ones:

“Santa Claus is Coming to Town”: I’ve mentioned this song before – I call it “Santa Stalker”. He sees you when you’re sleeping … he knows when you’re awake … he knows when you’ve been bad or good … and he’s coming to town. No doubt he’ll be bringing his equally scary pals, the Boogeyman and the IRS Agent.

“I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”: Well. At least now we know why he’s coming to town. This is on that unique list of Christmas songs that, when you really pay attention, are the equivalent of an AMC Original Series: suitable for adults only.

“Jingle Bell Rock”: I included this out of historical interest, because it’s one of the first rock and roll Christmas songs. It seems quaint now, but at the time it was probably scandalous to the more traditional fans. If someone’s idea of a modern Christmas song was “The Hallelujah Chorus”, that guitar opening must have been a shock.

“Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow”: See above about adult Christmas songs; this one is basically the story of a guy who’s using bad weather as an excuse to make some time with his stranded companion. Also, it doesn’t actually mention Christmas in any way, which puts it into another category: songs about Christmas that – aren’t.

But at least it’s better than “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”, in which the guy bypasses trying to talk his girl into the sack and spikes her drink, instead. Listen to those lyrics and you’ll get never let someone else mix your drink again.

“This Christmas”: Last Christmas she gave him her heart, and the very next day he gave it away. Wait. He gave her heart away? So … he made her fall in love with someone else? Well, you can understand the singer being a little mixed up, considering she’s spending her Christmas as a heartbroken mess.

“The Twelve Days of Christmas”: This is one of those songs that are so old people don’t really understand what they mean anymore. (See: figgy puddings.) Your true love gave you … maids milking? French hens? Where do you even get lords leaping? Do they have to have union cards?
But of course, the big problem with this one is that it’s twelve days long.
“Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer”: Let me break this song down for you: It’s about a bullied kid with a serious birth defect whose haters decide to like him after it turns out he has a superpower that saves the day. Okay. Why did Stan Lee never turn this into a Marvel comic? Or was Spider-Man enough?

“Blue Christmas”: Only Elvis Presley really pulled off this iconic story of a depressed man who’s miserable all through the holidays. Probably the most down Christmas song ever, with the possible exception of “Christmas Shoes”, a song I can’t listen to all the way through to this day.

“Christmas Dragnet”: Funniest Christmas song ever – at least, if you’re familiar with Jack Webb’s old “Dragnet” TV series. I steal the funniest line of that song for my own purposes whenever I can get away with it … and no, I’m not going to tell you what it is. If you don’t listen to the song, you’ll still believe I thought it up myself.

" "We'll find that Grinch, ma'am."


“Little St. Nick.” It’s actually not a bad song, but the very idea of The Beach Boys singing about a winter holiday … you have to picture them belting it out on a beach, wearing shorts with red and green Hawaiian shirts, surrounded by bikini ladies in Santa hats. Which … now that I think on it, that’s not a bad way to spend Christmas.

“Jingle Bells”: A nice, traditional Christmas song … except when done by the Singing Dogs. Whose bright idea was that, and what’s next? Cats screeching out “Feliz Navidad”?

“Snoopy’s Christmas”: A flying dog engaged in a bloody fight to the death with a vicious World War 1 German ace. Merry Christmas, my friend!

“The Chipmunk Song”: Again, whose bright idea was that? ‘Cause the guy should’ve gotten a medal for spawning an empire that’s cranking out cash to this day. I’m thinking about doing a version of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” – with helium.

“White Christmas” and “Silent Night”: They tie for being close to the perfect Christmas songs. If you can listen to them without getting teared up and – at least inwardly – singing along, you have no heart. Maybe you gave it away Last Christmas.

“Santa Baby”: Top on the list of inappropriate Christmas songs. To this day, Santa can’t hear any version without having to take a cold shower.

And finally, the single most ridiculous Christmas song ever can only be:

“Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer”.

Nothing says Christmas like a hit and run sleigh driver smearing an elderly lady across the sidewalk. Maybe Snoopy should be hired to bring Santa down?

Makes me wish I hadn’t forgot my medication.


"We're just standing by in case Grandma goes out again this year."

A short story, a dog, and me as an elf.

There's a free short story in this month's newsletter!

https://mailchi.mp/f7dac5e562b2/heres-your-free-short-story-and-a-link-to-our-new-book-which-is-much-longer-but-not-quite-as-free

There's also me as an elf, a link to the new book, and, yes, a sad dog. But not to worry--he wasn't really sad, just sleepy.

movie review: Star Wars: Episode IX - The Rise of Skywalker

On her birthday, my wife suggested we go see the new Star Wars movie.

And now you know why I married her.

So, how much do you want to know about Star Wars: Episode IX - The Rise of Skywalker? I think I'm going to go spoiler free, because that will make this much, much shorter. First of all, if you hate fan service, forget it. (Fan service has different meanings. In this case I'm going with when movie makers put something into the flick that's not necessary to the story, but is just put in to make the fans happy.

I love fan service. I mean, I'm a fan, and I want to be happy. My writing instructors would be horrified ("Remove anything that's not story!"), but what the hey.

When you're dealing with the ninth movie in a series, it's hard not to have fan service. As we begin there's been so much history, even with the newer characters, not to mention characters like Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher's last movie appearance. I promised I wouldn't cry ... *sob*)

As we open two of the big three Star Wars characters have died--um, surely you're not worried about spoilers from the last movie, right? The one left is Leia, who we don't see all that much of for obvious reasons, but all three of them loom large in the story as their friends discover a new threat that's way, WAY bigger than the First Order they've been battling against. There's not a lot of infighting among our heroes this time (but plenty of welcome bantering) as they try to track down and neutralize the new threat, while Rei trains under Leia's direction to become a Jedi.

And that's about all I'm going to say about the plot, other than that at the end, it revolves around the conflict between Rei and Kylo Ren, as well as within them. It involves the reappearance of a lot of old friends, some of which are expected and others very surprising. We even get a few new characters, who manage to fit in as best they can.

And there you have the biggest problem with Star Wars: Episode IX - The Rise of Skywalker: There are so many characters, and so many strings to tie up (although they mostly do get resolved), that it's hard for everyone to get enough screen time. The movie's well over two hours, but I wonder if it wouldn't have been better stretched into a TV miniseries--or if that would give us too many endings and goodbyes, as with the last Lord of the Rings movie.

There were a couple of spellbinding moments from the trailers that turn out disappointing, as the actual moments come and go without much development past what we already saw. There are also those who will see similarities between this movie and Return of the Jedi, and they're not wrong.

Just the same ... wow.

There's a great mix of action, plot, and character--heavy on the action, but after all, the word "wars" is in the title. We get solid acting, awesome effects even by modern standards, a good score, and although we never get the answers we sought about Snoke, this movie's villain has an actual history and connection with our heroes. You may cheer a little, and maybe even shed a tear. I did.

My score

Entertainment Value: 4 out of 4 M&Ms. Okay, maybe not the brown ones, but if you fall asleep at this movie, get checked for narcolepsy.

Oscar Potential:  3 out of 4 M&Ms. You know, if they took out the space and laser swords and set this plot and these characters into some historical adventure, they're be raking in the statues.

Happy birthday, Emily!

So, it's been a really awful December.

This possibly relates to the fact that it was a really awful November, but December just went right into the sewer, sometimes literally. Illnesses, scheduling problems, weather, blood pressure--which I guess goes with illnesses--and I'm currently in pain because of the previously mentioned sewer (long story).

Anyway, I'm stressed out to the max, which I guess goes with blood pressure, but I've got two things going for me:

One, after December 21st the days start getting longer.

Two, I always know my wife's birthday, because after that the days start getting longer.

That's a cool way to remember a date. There's also calendar phone apps, of course, and on a related note, our wedding anniversary is March 5th.

She's going to kill me for posting this pictures without getting approval first, but--just look at them! They're SO cute!

Emily always knows when I'm feeling down, ill, or stressed, and she usually knows how to help fix me. Beowulf knows all that stuff, too ... I'm the only insensitive person in the house.

But anyway, this post is mainly for Emily:

Even though I usually screw up your birthday by not being prepared. On a related note, I'm not prepared for your birthday. But I'm not too concerned, because I locked up your sword collection.

Emily does not have unlimited patience, but by gosh, she sure has a lot of it. She takes care of me a lot, and if you don't believe me I can show you the scars, and she also takes care of the dog and a lot of other problems, not that the dog and I are problems except for when we are.

So here's to Emily, who deserves to live in a way warmer place, but all I can do is turn up the thermostat and offer to make her hot chocolate. Everyone wish her a happy birthday!

I mean, just look at them! Could they be any cuter?

I Hear the Blurbing of a Newborn Book

As you probably know from the previous cover reveal, we've birthed a new book, and I didn't even take an epidural.

Kidding! It doesn't work that way, although sometimes it seems like it. Certainly gestation takes forever.

Print and website presence to come, but you can already pick up this infant book on Kindle:

https://www.amazon.com/Mark-R-Hunter/e/B0058CL6OO

But don't you want to know what you're getting? Okay, here's the blurb I wrote for the book I wrote about columns I wrote, and no wonder my fingers are tired. It's being added for sale in various places that you can bet I'll talk about, at least all through Christmas season.

Who would have thought the turn of the last Century would one day be ancient history?

In More Slightly Off the Mark, Why I Hate Cats, and Other Lies, former newspaper columnist Mark R. Hunter went back to collect his humor pieces from 2000 and 2001—the earliest ones to be put on a computer. In DOS format ... on a floppy disk.

The amount of change in just twenty years resulted in Hunter completely rewriting the columns, and inserting his present self (and his dog, Beowulf, through pictures) into the work—mostly to make fun of his younger self. Along the way Mark riffs on everything from history to health, vacations, holidays, housework, and of course technology. And weather. Because everyone talks about that.

In a more serious section Hunter also tackles the 9/11 attacks … because those were the times we lived in.

Some of the chapters include:

Advice From the Clueless

I Ran Out of Excuses to Write About Excuses

When Bad Cities Happen to Good People

Civil War, Summer Vacation—Same Thing

I Just Can’t Stand Intolerant People

The Next Big Step in Medical Disasters

And, of course: Age Ain’t Nothin’ But a Number, But It’s a Really Lousy Number

Mark R. Hunter’s humor column was published in newspapers for twenty-five years, and he notes there’s little than can be done to stop him from collecting more of them in the future … although state and federal laws are pending.

Mark R. Hunter lives in small town Indiana with his wife/editor/book designer/cover artist/supervisor Emily, their dog Beowulf, and a cowardly ball python named Lucius. Mark thinks he's a Hufflepuff, but keeps testing Slytherin.