New Year's Writin' Eve

     I wondered about the best way to start the New Year. I rarely drink--and if I didn't start drinking in 2020, I never will. I have no desire to see Miley Cyrus' Epiglottis on New Years Rockin' Eve (or whoever the most recent too young to be showing so much skin singer is).

What I do want in 2021 is to get published again.

     So I plan to start the New Year with new rounds of submissions to publishers, magazines, and literary agents. I have short stories already out, but novel manuscripts that need to go out, including Fire on Mist Creek, Beowulf: In Harm's Way, and Summer Jobs Are Murder. Another three manuscripts are mostly done, but need some work yet: Smoke Showing, The Source Emerald, and We Love Trouble.

By the end of January I mean to have all my completed but unpublished manuscripts out and about, and seeing more of the world than I. Meanwhile, since both COVID and winter are likely to stick around for some time, I'll stay home and work on getting the rest nicely polished and pretty-looking.

 
     I know what you're thinking: "You lazy sod, why won't you have all that done three minutes into the New Year"? Well, my paranoia has me pouring over query letters and synopsis' for hours before I upload manuscripts and hit the send button. Besides, a little celebration is in order--and I have a morbid fascination with seeing how incapable the folks in Times Square are of finding and using a trash can.

 

 Okay, the truth is I have to work New Year's Eve. The other truth? After 2020, we shouldn't make plans: You never know what's going to fall on us in the New Year.

Remember, every time you don't read a book and leave a review, a wicked witch terrorizes Munchkins. Save the short people.

 

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Have a look at The Source Emerald

 Second draft of the new novel-in-progress: done. New working title: The Source Emerald.

The rough draft weighed in at 67,515 words. Even after cutting some of the final chapter, the second draft finished at 70,294 words. A lot of those extra 2,779 words consisted of me saying, "Huh? What did I mean by that?" and then going in to make it clearer. The whole thing is better now.

I think.

And how does one celebrate the completion of a second draft?

Why, by starting the third draft, of course.

I leave you with a photo of a giant emerald.

This, the Bahia Emerald from Brazil, is believed to be the largest single shard ever found. It weighed about 752 pounds, and has been valued at about $400,000,000.

It was necessary to shrink the emerald in my book down to thirty-two pounds, but it was once much larger, and still resembles this one. And that, Mr. NSA guy, is why I've been researching gems so much lately.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Mark got a pun book

My daughter bought me a book of puns for Christmas. She should have known better. 

The odd part is, at the moment I can't think of a pun to go with this post.

Yes, Virginia, there's still a Santa Claus

I first wrote this in ... let's see ... 2003. I think the story of Virginia still rings true, after all this time.

 

 Her name was Virginia O’Hanlon. She graduated from Hunter College (gotta love that name) with a Bachelor of Arts degree, and a year later received her Master’s from Columbia. In 1912 she began teaching for the New York City school system, and 47 years later, after reaching the position of principal, she retired. It was a full and good life, one in which she had an impact on many children.

But throughout her life, until she died in 1971, she received letters, questions and interviews about something she, herself, did as a child -- something that has become immortal.

She wrote a letter.

“Quite naturally I believed in Santa Claus,” Virginia said years later, “for he had never disappointed me. But when less fortunate little boys and girls said there wasn’t any Santa Claus, I was filled with doubts. I asked my father, and he was a little evasive on the subject.”

All we fathers have been there.

“It was a habit in our family,” Virginia continued, “that whenever any doubts came up as to how to pronounce a word, or some question of historical fact was in doubt, we wrote the Question and Answer column in The Sun. Father would always say, ‘If you see it in the Sun, it’s so’, and that settled the matter.”

This was in 1897. Anyone who said “If you see it in the newspaper, it’s so” these days would be laughed right out of the room, but we were a more faithful society then. So, Virginia wrote this letter:


“I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, ‘if you see it in The Sun, it’s so.’ Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?”

Virginia O’Hanlon


Those of you who no longer trust the newspapers would not be surprised if an editor quickly jotted down “Of course there is!” to satisfy the youngster, and leave it at that. But the letter found its way to Editor Francis P. Church, the son of a Baptist minister, who had two decades experience in the newspaper business.

Church was habitually given the controversial subjects to editorialize on, especially those involving religion. His motto was, “Clear your mind of can’t”. In other words, don’t try -- do. He felt he had to find an answer, and he had to answer truthfully. But if he said no, he would devastate the 8 year olds of New York City. If he said yes, how could he face his church, and all those adult readers who believed in his honesty?

It must have been terribly difficult, but he sat down to work on what would become the most famous editorial in history. It was reprinted annually, until the newspaper went out of business in 1949, and has become legend since.

In a probably misguided attempt to make Church’s reply clear to modern children, I’m going to try to update the editorial in today’s much poorer English. It’s probably a huge mistake, and I’m quite sure I’m not going to do justice to it. But the 8 year old Virginia’s of today are growing up too fast, and those of us with young hearts also need to remember Church’s conclusion:


Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They live at a time when they think no one believes in anything, and they believe only what they see. They think nothing is real if they can’t picture it in their little minds.

But all minds are little, Virginia, whether they belong to adults or children. In this huge universe man is very small, and his mind can’t truly understand all the things that are real and true in it.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

He’s real, as real as love, and kindness, and the spirit of giving, and all those things that bring beauty and joy to the world. How terrible this world would be without Santa Claus! It would be as dull and sad as if there were no Virginia's. There would be no childlike faith then, no imagination, no love that makes this life worth living. We would be unable to enjoy anything we couldn’t see or touch. There would be no childhood -- and the light of childhood fills the world.

Not believe in Santa Claus! Why, you might as well not believe in angels. You could get your father to hire people to watch all the chimneys on Christmas Eve, but even if none of them saw Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus then, but that doesn’t mean he’s not real. The most real things in the world are the things children and adults can’t see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s not proof they aren’t there. No one can imagine all the wonderful things that nobody can see in the world.

You can tear apart a toy to see what makes it work inside, but there’s a covering over those unseen things that not even the strongest man, not even all the strongest men together, could ever tear apart. Only faith, and imagination, and love, can push aside that covering and show all the wonderful things that are there. Are they all real? Oh, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else as real and long lasting.

No Santa Claus? Thank God he lives, and lives forever. A thousand years from now -- a million years from now -- he will still be real, and make glad the hearts of every Virginia, and everyone who stays young at heart.

 

 

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

 

Merry Christmas! Here's a free short story

Where does Santa Claus go on vacation? Why, Oz, of course. Read about it in a new Christmas short story, and don't forget to sign up to get the regular newsletter, which hits about once a month. Merry Christmas!

https://mailchi.mp/3b41b4ddf9da/our-gift-to-you-a-christmas-short-story?e=2b1e842057

 

 

Happy 25th birthday again, Emily!

 Emily often doesn't like to have her picture taken, so sometimes I have to sneak in a photo while her attention is elsewhere. Here's one of my favorite that I've taken of her:

Not her best side, I'll admit.

Here's one I took of her on the job:

And here's one of her with another member of the family:

You know, something just occurred to me: Do you suppose Emily is an animal lover?

I know what you're thinking: "But Mark, won't Emily kill you for this?" Yes. Yes, she will. But I figure it's her birthday, and she should do what she wants. Even if it's painful.

Happy birthday, Emily!

Tis the 911 Season

 I don't know if anyone who's not in the emergency services will fully appreciate this, but what the heck. I wrote some new lyrics to the Christmas song "Deck the Halls", and it's dedicated to all the emergency telecommunicators out there--including those who, like me, still call themselves 911 dispatchers.

I just hit my 29th anniversary on the job, so don't mess with me: I'm legally insane:

TIS THE 911 SEASON

Tis the season for the fighting,

Fa la la la la, la la la

Kicking, screaming and the biting

Fa la la la la, la la la

Barroom fights and family squabbles

Fa la la la la, la la la

Louder than a turkey gobbles

Fa la la la la, la la la

Frequent flier, 911

Fa la la la la, la la la

Claiming that his meds are gone

Fa la la la la, la la la

Overdose is never fun

Fa la la la la, la la la

Especially at half past one

Fa la la la la, la la la

Traffic stop, to be proactive

Fa la la la la, la la la

Sure enough a warrant active

Fa la la la la, la la la

It won't get that cop promoted

Fa la la la la, la la la

When they find out he has COVID

Fa la la la la, la la la

Working all night, on through Christmas

Fa la la la la, la la la

Sure do hope the family missed us

Fa la la la la, la la la

We won't join in with the choir

Fa la la la la, la la la

Unless they catch their tree on fire

Fa la la la la, la la la

When we get home and we're tired

Fa la la la la, la la la

Can't sleep because we're still wired

Fa la la la la, la la la

Family members give you some cheer

Fa la la la la, la la la

Save your stress until the New Year

Fa la la la la, la la laaaaaa........

 

 

Remember, every time you don't buy a book, the Grinch steals a tree.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

 

My Labyrinthitis is acting up ... apparently

 I sat in shock as the doctor, his face somber, informed me that I had Acute Eustachian Salpingitis.

Worse, it was accompanied by Labyrinthitis.

You can imagine my reaction. Why me? Why now? What is it?

Okay, the now was because I'd just started vacation. I have a lot of sick days saved up, because I only get sick when I was already scheduled off, anyway. That's Hunter's Law of Vacations #2. (#1 is: If you plan a vacation outdoors, the weather will be terrible. It's a bit more obvious than rule #2.)

In a quavering voice, I asked, "Am I gonna die, Doc?"

"Yes, he said. Yes, you will. I'd give you maybe twenty to thirty years if you take care of yourself, and maybe late 2022 if you keep going the way you have been."

Wait. three words I can't pronounce, and it's not fatal?

This is how Dr. Google defines it: lymphoid hyperplasia in or about the eustachian tube. You'd take that seriously too, wouldn't you? I didn't start making out a will right away, but only because I've always known my wife would outlive me, so she gets the house anyway. And there's nothing she can do about it.

"I want you," the Doctor intoned, "to perform the Valsalva Maneuver several times a day."

"Whoa! That's kinda personal, Doc--and I'm getting older. I'm not sure I could manage that more than twice a week."

At least I don't have to do another sleep study.

After translating all that Latin into Lower Middle Class American, I discovered a sinus infection had spread into my ear.

Yeah. I had to cancel the fund raiser, the film crew stalked away in disgust, and all those people who spent the day wearing chartreuse in my honor were really upset.

Turns out others have had worse days than I have.

A few years ago I had sinus surgery. It reduced my sinus infections from two or three a year, to one every year and a half or so ... but the ones I do get seem to be worse. This time around I decided to treat it myself; it's not as though I didn't know what was happening.

As you know, there are two kinds of men: The ones who retreat to their death beds at every sniffle, and the ones who cut off an arm, tie it off with a belt, and go back to work. I lean a little more toward that last kind, especially since my belt is old and needs replaced, anyway. So I didn't go to the doctor until my balance was so affected I had to walk sideways to go anywhere at all. The room wasn't spinning, exactly ... it was doing more of a roller coaster thing.

Say hello to my little "friend".

 

And that worked out just fine, because my plan had been to stay inside and edit my new novel manuscript, anyway. Other than those times when I felt too bad even to do that, the week went pretty much the way I expected it to, not including the awful neti pot. Where did that idea come from, anyway? North Korean torture chambers?

Oh, and the Valsalva Maneuver? You just pinch off your nose, blow in a little pressure, then swallow. Easy ... although if it was a cooking recipe, that would have been one too many steps for me.

So the good news: I didn't end up in the hospital as so many have this year, and I got to experience being drunk without actually drinking.

Remember, every time you don't buy a book, a reality TV show is born. Save our brains.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

More Slightly Off the Mark is out in print ... still

Well, this is embarrassing: I'd meant to post this before the blog I put up on the same subject back on 12/2. It's been sitting in my draft folder ever since More Slightly Off the Mark was originally released earlier this year; from a promotion standpoint, the book seems to have been cursed.

But I'm still putting this out here, for three reasons: First, it's already written. Second, hey--still Christmas shopping season, and I always hope to be shopped. Third, social media doesn't seem to want other people to see what you're doing these days, so there's every chance you might not have read the previous post, anyway.  

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You probably already guessed this from my previous post. Still, now that we finally have the print version of our newest book, More Slightly Off the Mark: Why I Hate Cats, and Other Lies, available to buy, I can finally announce:

The print version of our newest book, More Slightly Off the Mark: Why I Hate Cats, and Other Lies, is available to buy!

Guess I should have led with that. Oh, wait ... I did.

It was what we call a slow rollout, which is another way of saying I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was, and I didn't take into consideration that great leveler of plans, Winter. This winter leveled a lot of us. (So did spring and summer, as it turns out.)

But now it's out, and only $7.50 for the paperback version, despite the fact that it's actually longer than the original Slightly Off the Mark. Or maybe because--all those words can be intimidating. Now, according to my calculations, you can have it for only 33 cents a page.

I might be wrong on that: I became a writer to avoid math.

Meanwhile, we've reduced the Kindle price of More Slightly Off the Mark to just $1.99, for those of you who have an e-reader, or a computer, and/or are just plain cheap. Remember, that's less than it costs to buy one of those super sized candy bars--and books have no cholesterol, yet still provide plenty of fiber.

And to further celebrate, we dropped the price of the original Slightly Off the Mark: The Unpublished Columns to 99 cents, which is what they charge if you want a plastic straw at Starbucks. It's true, I saw it the internet.

It's available on the website: 

http://markrhunter.com/

 

Plus you can read the preview and get it any time on Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1709741287

Remember, every time you don't buy a book, a reality TV show is born. Save our brains.

 

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

 

 

 

Hoosiers Still Hysterical

 I try not to go overboard on social media with "Buy My Book!" posts, but I remembered today that the anniversary of Indiana's birth is coming up in a couple of days--and of course, we're well into Christmas shopping season. So I came up with this ad, and if anybody sees it on various social medias, I hope you'll let me know so I have an idea of how it's doing. I also believe, firmly, that we all need more humor and happiness in our lives right now, and this is arguably the most fun of our published books. Spreading cheer: Seems like a good thing.

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Happy (December 11) birthday, Indiana! Celebrate with a fun and funny read on Hoosier history and trivia: everything from where the word "Hoosier" came from, to how a landlocked area of Indiana became the sight of the westernmost naval battle of the American Revolution:

Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving at All, by Mark R. Hunter

Just $2.99 as an e-book or $10.00 in print--great for a Christmas gift. Find it here, and look for more of Mark's books:

http://www.markrhunter.com/HoosierHysterical.html

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01H7YJNFE

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hoosier-hysterical-mark-r-hunter/1123866879