Remembering Vern

Vern,

Five years have passed since you were taken from us and not a day goes by we don’t remember the love you brought into our lives and into the lives of so many others. We will continue to love others as completely and unconditionally as you did, and to bring laughter to them as often. 

With love and fond memories, 
Everyone

Out of Office

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I briefly considered posting from somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean this week, or possibly from some roadside greasy spoon between South Carolina and Holy Crap It’s Still Cold and Snowy Canada on March 16, but then I came to my senses.

After more than 60 straight weeks of posting I think I deserve a break. Plus, it’s my birthday on the 13th so I’m giving myself a blogging break as a present. It’s a milestone birthday too! Man, I sure am going to miss my 20’s.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_wFEB4Oxlo?rel=0]

~ Andrew

TBR Pile

“There is no friend as loyal as a book.”  – Ernest Hemingway

My daughter likes to read. I mean, she REALLY likes to read. She gets it from her mother, and both sets of her grandparents. Me? I like to read; I just haven’t done as much of it in my lifetime as I should have. It’s a terrible thing I know, but it is the truth.

I grew up with two educators for parents, my father being a sports nut and my mother a gym teacher and yoga fanatic as well. I read lots of books growing up. There were some Choose Your Own Adventure, of course. I read every single one of the Gordon Korman books. I also read: A Boy at the Leafs Camp (mandated reading for any kid growing up playing hockey in Toronto); Vladislav Tretiak’s book Tretiak: The Legend; and Ken Dryden’s The Game. My favourites though were The Great Brain series by John D. Fitzgerald.

In high school I focused on math and science, and if I’m being honest, reading all that mumbo jumbo turned me off reading in a big way. Plus, I was more interested in sports, girls, my friends, and general teenage shenanigans. Curling up with a good book wasn’t high enough on my list of priorities. That said, reading a bunch of books is unavoidable in high school. I did manage to avoid reading a lot of the usual books. Careful selection of English classes saw to that (my high school was quite large and we had ample choices of English classes).

So, my high school years weren’t filled with tons of reading for pleasure. If I did it was almost always a Stephen King book. Fast forward to university and it was all advanced calculus, computers, and applied physics. If you throw in a little bit of drinking and a fair amount of debauchery what you don’t get is too many novels piling up on the night stand.

Then I grew up, got married, bought a house, had kids, moved a few times, changed jobs a few times… and started writing. Over the last five years or so I’ve read more books than all my previous reading years combined. None of them will ever be “classics” but many were quite enjoyable to read and I’m a better writer for having read (most of) them.

I am a writer with another job that’s not writing and I also have a family and a social calendar. I will always be fighting the battle between writing, reading, and just sitting on my ass doing nothing. I yearn for a time when my entire existence isn’t one giant exercise in prioritization. In that vain, I’m left to wonder what’s the point of a TBR (To Be Read) pile? The damn thing never gets any smaller!

For every one I do read there’s ten more I want to read and ten more on top of those that I should read. I think the pile exists mainly because there’s comfort in its existence. It’s good to know that there will always be something there; always something to do; always an adventure waiting for me. All I have to do is open the cover and turn a page. Also, if there were no TBR piles then I would have less incentive to have my book sitting on top of one.

TBR:

  1. Save the Cat
     – Blake Snyder (in progress)
  2. Signal to Noise
     – Gordon Bonnet
  3. The Key to Everything
     – Alex Kimmell
  4. Bigger Than Jesus
     – Robert Chazz Chute
  5. Savage Fire
     – Ben Langhinrichs
  6. Eleven
     – Carolyn Arnold
  7. Billy Purgatory: I am the Devil Bird
     – Jesse James Freeman

~ Andrew

Week 7 Winner and Week 8 Prompt

Week 7 of the Tales of Whoa / Potato Chip Math Flash Fiction Challenge is in the books. We only had one entry this week  and it was the same lone entry as week 5 and the winner from week 6 as well. We’re going to have to rename this contest to the  jmcpike01 Flash Fiction Challenge. You can read the entry here.

We’re going to keep at this for one more week so make your way over to Tales of Whoa where you’ll find this week’s prompt and challenge rules.

~ Andrew

Rules Be Damned

I saw this app/program on the internet that points out, in the nicest possible way, how terrible your writing is. It’s name is Hemingway and you paste a bunch of text into it and it advises you of the following:

  • Hard to read sentences
  • Very hard to read sentences
  • Undesirable use of adverbs
  • Words or phrases that can be simpler 
  • Use of passive voice
  • Readability (i.e. lowest education level needed to understand your text) 

Why these?

For starters, length matters. While we all want to wax poetic with flowery prose the best advice is KISS: Keep ISimple, Stupid. I thought the first two would be a cinch to identify but as it turns out, a sentence that I think is longish Hemingway will flag as long (highlighting it in yellow). If I think a sentence is long then Hemingway makes quick work of highlighting it red, telling me that one needs a do over and I’d best take its advice lest I lose the reader down a rabbit hole never to have them return.

As for adverbs, a friend once told me, “Adverbs are your enemy.” While they may be fine for the spoken word, on the page they are just the opposite. Use sparingly.

Similar to length being a factor, using straightforward words and phrases are a good way to manage the readability of your text. Simpler words will have less chance of discombobulating the reader.

The passive voice is something I struggle with a lot. I think it’s frustrating because I’m Canadian and feel the need to be polite and apologize for everything. I’m sorry, but it’s true. The problem with this is that when we write in the passive voice the reader will be disengaged. Engage the reader. Show them action!

Readability is also important, unless you’re writing a research paper or other academic rigmarole. Don’t limit your audience by requiring them to book office hours with their English prof just so they can finish your book.

I was discussing this program with a few other writers and the general consensus was that it was quite helpful. One experienced and successful writer noted that thinking about rules will stifle creativity. As we all know, it’s the creativity that makes the story. As a writer who also dabbles with singing and photography I couldn’t agree more. I know that the more rules that I’m told to follow the less likely I am to get in that creative zone.

That said, if you don’t follow a few core rules you won’t get far. In singing if you don’t have good posture and breathe you won’t be rattling the rafters any time soon. In photography, if you overexpose your picture you ruin it. You can always bring out detail in a darker photograph, but you can recreate that detail if you wash it out with too much light.

In writing, there are so many damn rules that you could spend all day just making sure you’re following them all, but if you had to pick a few to stick with I’d say that Hemingway highlights the big ones. It’s also no surprise that these are the ones people abuse the most often. I know I do.

For fun I put the first draft of this post into Hemingway and here’s what it spat out:

  • Paragraphs: 5
  • Sentences: 19
  • Words: 322
  • Characters: 1458
  • Readability: Grade 9
  • 0 of 19 sentences are hard to read.
  • 3 of 19 sentences are very hard to read.
  • 8 adverbs. Aim for 2 or fewer.
  • 3 words or phrases can be simpler.
  • 4 uses of passive voice. Aim for 4 or fewer.

To be fair to myself, what you read above is quite different from the original. I rewrote it so that the readability came down to grade 6 and the only offending item was the word “very” (which I had to use because it was quoting their own damn site). What did I think about it when compared to the original? In three words: it was better. In another two it was: tighter, cleaner.

It was also less… fun. Less fun to write and I’m guessing it would have been less fun to read as well. So, I went and changed it all to be a little tongue-in-cheek and a little more relaxed. I happen to like the way it reads now, but since I am using my blog to get some words written every week and (hopefully) hone my craft, I think I’m going to start using Hemingway (next week) to hammer home some of those fundamentals that I never picked up in high school English class (I’m so sorry Ms. Nowak!)

Speaking of which, all those “rules” that Hemingway targets? Well, I don’t even have any recollection of them being taught in school, let alone how to write with them in mind. There could be any number of reasons for this, with the most likely being me not paying attention in class.

Looking at my steadily increasing monthly readership I think it’s turned out alright for me and my little blog, so rules be damned (most of them, anyway).

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjHORRHXtyI?rel=0]

~ Andrew

Flash Fiction Challenge #7

Gordon will be posting the week 6 winner on Thursday this week. So head on over to Gordon’s Blog in about 24 hours to check it out.

Now, onto week 7!

The rules are very simple: we give you a prompt and you write 500 words or less.

You can write in any style that you wish just be sure to use the prompt as your inspiration, keep it under 500 words, write it in English, and ensure it’s completely made up (this is a flash fiction challenge after all).

Next week Gordon and I will post links to the pieces we liked the best and will probably do a shout out on Twitter to those folks if they so desire. After a few months we’ll compile a list of our favourites and we’ll get the Internet to vote. The winner will win stuff (to be determined, but we’re sure they’ll love it).

Now, without further ado we present this week’s prompt. I’m taking a page out of Gordon’s book and using a picture as the prompt:


Use the comments below to submit your work. You can submit anonymously, but if you don’t leave us an email address or Twitter handle you can’t win.

Have fun!

~ Andrew & Gordon

Heavy Petting

This post should have been titled “The Magical Healing Powers of Domesticated Animals” but it just didn’t have the same Zing! to it so I apologize for using the snappier clickbait title that’s sure to illicit page views from horny teenagers who just aren’t quite ready to take their relationships to the next step.

The bartender from the kids’ ski lessons, Brianna (who factored into the post So I Stopped Wearing Socks almost a year ago) suggested the topic for this week and after my fat cat ripped open my finger with one of his claws I’ve decided to run with it.

In spite of all the blood drawn “playing” with their owners, pets of all kinds seem to have magical healing powers for their humans that cure of all sorts of ailments, particularly depression. Now, this isn’t a paper for a scientific journal or even a topic I’ve done any particular research for but it is somewhat interesting because I will swear up and down that I hate cats – but I’m not completely sure I do.

A little back story:

I never had a pet growing up but in my latter high school years my dad finally caved and allowed the family to get a dog. He was the cutest little red cocker spaniel and we named him Chester. In terms of intelligence, well, let’s just say he was the cutest little red cocker spaniel you’ve ever seen. I was only home for a couple years before leaving for university and my pet days were over. Fast forward to the early days of marriage and my wife really wanted a cat. Through a strange sequence of events we ended up keeping a couple cats that we were only supposed to be watching for a couple months. Through other events I won’t get into one of those cats is no longer with us, and after moving 6 hours away from home we ended up at the Humane Society picking up Oliver to keep the one cat we had left “from being lonely in the new house”.

Oliver had a giant scratch on his eyeball when we bought him and while that may have made some of us feel sorry for him. What it should have done was make it clear as day that this little bugger was a scrapper. Nevertheless we have had Oliver since 2006 and most of our furniture and carpet is still in tact.

In 2011, having gone through countless Bandaids for fingers, toes, and feet that Oliver had “playfully attacked” I suffered a pretty serious concussion. So serious, in fact, that my doctors told me that the next head injury could be my last one. In spite of my desire to behave normally I still got to spend weeks on the couch staring at nothing but a blank wall in a darkened room.

There is one day in particular that I remember vividly (one of the very few vivid memories I have of that time) and it ended up being a good day, thanks to my vicious claw ninja cat. There I was staring at my wall for the umpteenth day in a row and I was feeling pretty depressed about the whole thing. The traumatic brain injury was taking its toll and my emotions were becoming more and more difficult to control. It was scary, and I didn’t know when it would get better, if it ever would.

At that moment, just as the tears started to flow and blur the clock on the beige living room wall, my fat cat Oliver hopped up on to the couch; walked between my feet; stepped on my crotch – twice; kneaded my torso with his razor sharp talons; spun in two complete circles; plopped his hefty frame down with his little furry chin and smells-like-ass cat breath inches from face; closed his eyes; and started to purr. Suffice it to say this was not a common occurrence. In fact, in the 5+ years in which we had owned this cat he had never once shown me this much affection – and it was just what the doctor ordered.

It’s funny how that seems to work out, and I don’t mean funny “ha ha” or funny “strange” so much as I mean funny “interesting”. For all the levels of intellectual complexity that humans possess, when it comes to empathy our little feline and canine friends have us beat a thousand times over. This is an area that has been studied many times over and the results are clear: having a pet is good for your health.

Having a dog was nice when I didn’t have any responsibilities and there was my parents and siblings to look after it. As an adult I think it’s just one big hassle. As for cats, I’ve never been a fan of their attitude or having to clean up their damn litter boxes. That being said, when the world looks like it’s working against you both of those creatures will be by your side, no questions asked, and that can’t be a bad thing.

Now, some two and a half years after that post-concussion afternoon, The Fat One waits patiently on the couch for my laptop to get put away and an episode of Breaking Bad to begin so he can assume his rightful position lying on my chest, purring. I only wish it weren’t a coin toss over which end of his I preferred to have facing me.

~ Andrew

Week 5 Winner & Flash Fiction Challenge #6

Week 5 of the Tales of Whoa / Potato Chip Math Flash Fiction Challenge is in the books. We only had one entry this week (what are we, married?) so our winner is jmcpike01 and you can read the entry here.

We’re going to keep at this for a while longer and give people a chance to win actual prizes soon so keep coming back!



Now, let’s get on with Flash Fiction Challenge #6!

This week it’s Gordon’s turn to host the challenge so if you’ll all please make your way over to Tales of Whoa you’ll find this week’s prompt and challenge rules.

~ Andrew

To Create or Not to Create? There is No Question.

Last night I went out to see The Monuments Men with my wife (good movie that could/should have been amazing) and I drove the babysitter home it dawned on me that I was without a post topic for this week, so I asked the sitter for her thoughts.

We bantered around a couple ideas when finally she said to me, “Do you listen to the radio?”

Anyone who read last week’s post about the radio promo I disagreed with knows that I listen to the radio now and then so I replied honestly with, “On occasion, yes.”

What she said next intrigued me (but given her upbringing I was not surprised). She said, “You could do your post on why it is that most artists that seem to be popular on the radio today aren’t very good.”

Now this isn’t simply a case of an old fart like me complaining about the music (or art in general) of the kids today. This is a very intelligent, well adjusted, popular, 15 year old girl saying that what’s popular today in the music department is coming up drastically short. I happen to think she’s right, and I don’t necessarily think it’s a bad thing.

One woman wrecking machine.

Since the dawn of time there has always been debate over the quality of art. This is not a new thing, and every medium or genre sees its share of great and not-so-great artists over the years. A couple hundred years ago it’s entirely possible that fans of an up-and-coming Mozart thought that J.S. Bach was a hack.

So after hearing the babysitter’s suggestion, and fresh out of the movie theatre where I spent 90 minutes watching men risk, and sacrifice, their lives for great works of art, I got to thinking:

If the Nazis sought out to destroy the “Wrecking Ball” video, every copy of Twilight, and the movie Jersey Girl, would anyone care?

I can imagine that Miley Cyrus, Stephenie Meyer, and Kevin Smith would care; though from what I’ve heard from Kevin he might be willing to let that one go.

More importantly, I think a great many other people would care as well, myself included. As much as I think Miley is nothing more than an overproduced PR stunt; as much as reading a few chapters of Twilight to my daughter made me want to re-take high school English; and as much as watching Jersey Girl made me question my man-crush for Kevin Smith; these are all just personal opinions based on limited knowledge.

All the “bad” art has just as much place in the world as the “great” art. Yes, it only took one person to write the song “Bohemian Rhapsody” (as performed by Queen) and something like five to write “Baby” (as performed by Justin Bieber), but when it’s all said and done, what we’re left with is more art. As individuals we can always choose to vote with our wallets, our page views, our downloads, and our ‘likes’.

“Like”

Thankfully, we’re not all programmed to appreciate the same things and while I’d rather poke my eyes out with a salad fork than watch another Rebecca Black video the reality is that not every musician can be Freddy Mercury, not every painter can be Claude Monet, not every poet can be Edgar Allan Poe, and not every novelist can be J.K. Rowling.

The Nazis wanted it all and when they realized that wasn’t possible they set out to destroy it. The good news is The Monuments Men and hundreds of other conscientious civilians saved a lot of it, and would have saved the rest had they been given the chance. What really struck me was they didn’t just save the “classics” (though it is understandable why that was the focus).

Matt Damon is shown returning an ordinary portrait to the home of a Jewish family that had long since left Paris. Whether that’s true to the actual story or not, the sentiment is the same: art matters, and the absolute worst thing we can do is destroy it.

Coming in a close second would be if we stop creating it in the first place.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0omja1ivpx0?rel=0]

~ Andrew