jumping out of my skin

Emily changed my laptop's desktop photo to a Weeping Angel from Doctor Who, and didn't tell me. Should she not be responsible for the resulting medical bills?

Writing Update and AFD 125th Story



            A little writing update: While we were in Missouri I made it a point to work an hour or two each day on my Storm Chaser sequel, which was original called Storm Damage but now has the working title of The Notorious Ian Grant. (Partially because there’s already at least one book named Storm Damage.)  I’ve now finished the second draft (third, depending on how you define it), and Emily is going to be my first reader – we’ll see what she has to say about it.
            I’m also working on a series of what I’m calling “space opera” stories, and a possibly novella length story that’s going to be part of a Girl Scout related project that I’m helping with (no, seriously). And of course Harlequin Special Edition still has my full manuscript of Coming Attractions; I don’t expect to hear from them for at least a couple of months.

            We've sold, so far, just under a hundred copies of Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights, On a related note, here’s the story I did for the 125th anniversary of the Albion Fire Department, along with some photos of the event:

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            The Albion Fire Department threw a party for themselves and the people they protect Saturday, with a 125th anniversary celebration that was months in the planning.
            They reported good turnout despite hot weather and other activities going on around the area. Several area fire departments brought trucks to a cruise-in at the parking lot of the Central Noble High School, while antique and other specialized emergency vehicles also appeared. Among them was the AFD’s own reconditioned and operational 1929 fire engine, the first gasoline powered fire truck to protect Albion, and a line of four antique hose carts – two of them once in service with the AFD.



            Albion firefighters put on their gear despite the temperature to demonstrate the use of the department’s powerful auto extrication tools. Nearby, kids could play “waterball” – which also helped in keeping cool – and other games that were originally designed to hone the skills of firefighters. Area organizations provided food for the guests, which included firefighters from around northeast Indiana and several retired Albion Fire chiefs. Kendallville radio station WAWK did a remote broadcast from the celebration early in the afternoon.



            Unfortunately, conflicts prevented the Samaritan Helicopter or the Fort Wayne Firefighters Pipe & Drum Corps from coming. But an unexpected group did make an appearance, forcing writers to think about what the plural of Santa Claus is. Members of the Hoosier Santas Club, dressed down for the off-season, happily got their pictures taken in front of Albion fire trucks.
            Local author Mark R. Hunter, a 33 year member of the AFD, chose this appropriate event for the unveiling of his newest book, Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights: A Century or So With the Albion Fire Department. He signed about 65 copies of the book, which was designed, formatted, and edited by his wife, Emily. Proceeds will go toward the fire department’s training and equipment fund. Copies of the book will be available at the Albion fire station, the Albion New Era office, and through Hunter’s website at www.markrhunter.com.



            The anniversary dedication took place in the Central Noble Auditorium, presided over by current Albion Fire Chief Steve Bushong. He introduced the former Chiefs who were present and thanked the committee that planned the celebration: Albion firefighters Phil Jacob, Bob Beckley, Bob Brownell, Chris Cavanaugh, Mark Hunter, and Sean Jacob.
            Other speakers included District 13 State Senator Sue Glick; District 82 State Representative David Ober; State Fire Marshal Jim Greeson; David Israel, President of the Indiana Volunteer Firefighter Association; Jerry Sprague, District 6 IVFA Chairman; and Albion Pastor Bret Frymier, who gave an invocation and benediction. Albion Boy Scout Troop 507 presented Colors.
            It was hard work, but the Albion volunteer firefighters are ready to do it all over again – in another 25 years.



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4-H Writers: Fair Inspiration



This is actually my column from two weeks ago; not the first time I've  been caught playing catch-up.
 

SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

            Several years ago I was invited to read a story to a group of elementary school students, apparently because the teachers had the impression writers are also capable of reading out loud. I suppose that made me a celebrity reader, although of course the kids had no idea who I was.

            Afterward, while trying to find some way to keep them interested in reading, I came up with what I thought was a brilliant plan. “Kids,” I told them, “I’m a volunteer firefighter and I take 911 calls for a living, but I’ve never had adventures as great as the ones I’ve gotten out of a book.”

            Well, that got them interested, all right. Unfortunately, it didn’t get them interested in reading. For the rest of the time I was peppered with questions about being a fireman, and treated to little stories about when they’d experienced fires themselves. All thoughts of reading were forgotten.

            I was never invited back.

That’s probably nothing personal, but I keep getting this image of an entire classroom of kids who grew up to be pyromaniacs, and never read another book in their lives except maybe The Anarchist’s Cookbook.

            Fortunately I learned my lesson, and never again got involved with writing and young people in such a way that I might publicly embarrass myself.

            Oh, who am I kidding?

            This time around I was asked to judge prose writing entries for Noble County 4-H projects. Yes, it’s true: 4-H is about more than producing the wooliest sheep or most succulent sow, although without that I might have never experienced some great ham dinners. 4-H, often looked down on by city folk who would starve to death if left to their own devices, is loaded with areas in which kids are shepherded into the roles that will one day define them as adults.

            And I was to be part of that.

            Scary, ain’t it?

            I figured it would be easy. After all, I love to read; how hard could it be to read a bunch of stories by up and coming young authors? In this, I completely missed the “judging” part.

            Although I have many writer friends, I usually avoid helping to critique or review their product. My comments are amazingly unhelpful, because I hate criticizing other people, and I’ve never been all that good at picking out major literary stuff such as themes. It’s not uncommon for readers to tell me what the theme was – in my own stories.

            Another problem is that I’m easily entertained, and so can’t judge good from bad. For instance, to the horror of my wife, I like teen pop music. Most TV shows are okay by me until you start dropping the word “reality” into them. I mostly liked the first Twilight book, even though from a technical standpoint it contained some of the worst writing I’ve read in a published work. (But not the worst; I’m looking at you, William Shatner.)

            But I had to suck it up, put on my big boy pants, face the music, and search out clichés like the plague. I would be fair to these young writers, and point out where they were having problems even while offering encouragement. I would not just hand out blue ribbons willy-nilly.

            There were eleven entries. I handed out ten blue ribbons. The last one, a beginner level entry, missed getting a blue ribbon by that much, and I’m still not certain I wasn’t too hard on the writer.

            The problem is I didn’t expect them all to be good, because I wasn’t. I wrote voraciously when in school. Some classmates thought I was a straight-A student, because I was always hard at work on my school stuff.

            Only I wasn’t – I was writing. I was writing in class much of the time, too, which is fine except my writing was fiction, unrelated to the class. How I managed a B- average is a mystery to me.

            With all that writing, you’d think I’d have gotten better, wouldn’t you? But these 4-H kids – they’re all better than I was at their age. Maybe I’d have managed a blue ribbon, but only the same way I managed to pass chemistry class: by the skin of my cliché ridden teeth.

            The high school efforts were especially impressive, but not one of them was bad; it was a matter of choosing between good and great, then choosing among the great for champion. In an attempt to not over-praise and to find something to justify my job, I was reduced to pointing out the most minor of problems – things professional writers with decades of experience still do. With most of the entries, it would take only a little more learning and a few years of practice before these young writers will be publishable. One or two of them already is.

            One or two of them is, in fact, at the level where I’d have to work my brain and typing fingers to tiny nubs, just to match them.

            It made me want to teach writing. Yes, I recognize what a horrible idea that is, but they were that inspiring.

            These are our “lost youth”. These are the people who dress funny and stick stuff through their skin, the ones we complain are lazy, and don’t get it, and have lost respect. If you look for the bad, it’s that much harder to stumble onto the good.

            But I stumbled onto it, thanks to 4-H. Our future is not lost yet, not as long as there are still young people raising animals, pulling all-nighters for their science fair projects, volunteering after school, and opening their – and our – minds with the written word. The future isn’t lost, not yet.
 
            At least, not as long as I avoid reading to elementary schoolers.

Dad's illness report

My father, Delbert Hunter, is in Parkview Regional Medical Center, being treated for pneumonia along with what the doctors are almost certain is lymphoma, pending biopsy results in the next few days. He's been sick for awhile, although I didn't know it until I got a call early this week while standing on a Mississippi overlook at Trail of Tears State Park in Missouri.

(We had elected not to tell many people that we were out of state, due to the whole "people find out you're gone through social media and burglarize your home" thing.)

Naturally we headed back to Indiana. Dad's looking a lot better now, after removal of fluid from his lungs and much antibiotics. However, now we have the official lymphoma diagnosis and treatment for that to look forward to. If I still don't spend a lot of time on the internet for awhile, I apologize and will be back when I can. Meanwhile, please send your thoughts and prayers our way; I'll keep you informed.



Speak of the Devil: A Day In The Life Of Vladimir Putin

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Early report on 125th



Things went well yesterday: We haven’t counted how many copies of Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights were sold, but it was more than twice as many as any previous book signings – not including people who pre-ordered, but weren’t able to come. We're only a dozen or so new sales from the break-even point, and after that the Fire Department will get money toward training and equipment.

Also, and a bit to my surprise, we sold five copies of Storm Chaser! I was left with just one, although more are on order.

It wasn’t as hot as earlier in the week, and we didn’t get rained on. We started signing as soon as we got there, before we even had time to unpack my tote. (I have a book signing tote!) Sadly, the helicopter and bagpipers weren’t able to make it, but there was a good crowd, some awesome fire trucks (both new and classic), lots of fun stuff for the kids (and great food), and a wonderful dedication ceremony. I’ll have more information – and pictures – later.

Now the history book is “officially” available. If you’d like a signed copy, it’s $9.95 plus shipping and handling; we don’t have a PayPal button up yet on the website, but you can go there to shoot me an e-mail, or order it through Amazon and Create Space.

Orders through me will be a little delayed: I start vacation tomorrow, and we might not get much internet time for a while, so please be patient until after the first of the month. Also, we need a rest!

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