Guest post from Tony Kriz, author of "Neighbors and Wise Men."

Here's the thing about Tony Kriz. I think he knew all my friends before I did, especially here in Portland. People mentioned him all the time, but I never seemed to run into him. But then last year we crossed paths at a writer's conference, and then again a couple months ago at a fundraiser and then, finally, we went to coffee together and now, I can honestly say, we are friends. Finally! 

Tony agreed to write this guest post for BHR, and I was surprised when I read it. Surprised because I was moved by it, and it challenged me. I probably shouldn't have been surprised. People are saying a lot of highly complementary things about his new book, Neighbors and Wise Men. So, if you enjoy the post you should go check out his book.

In the meantime, here's Tony's website and his Twitter account. 

Enjoy!

People are everywhere.  You know what I mean?  I can’t seem to get away from them.  Take downtown Portland for instance.  Downtown Portland is full of them.  It is like walking through an anthill or living inside a pinball machine.  Bodies everywhere. 

            Most of the bodies don’t even know I am there.  They are content with the companionship of their agenda or their handheld mobile devise, so I return the favor. 

            Okay, here’s the deal. I don’t even remember his name.  Truth be told, I don’t think I ever took the time to learn his name. This is just the beginning of my sickness… I mean… well, more on that later.

            I was downtown. It was maybe 8:30pm on a Thursday evening.  I had managed to find street parking (score!) just a few blocks away from Jake’s Grill on Tenth Street (not to be confused with Jake’s Famous Crawfish, which is up on Twelfth.)  I was hurrying to meet my friend Wilson.

            It was a lovely evening, warm, and the streets were hopping.  I was on my cell phone chatting with an old roommate from college named James.  We hadn’t spoken in years and we were getting caught up. I passed the culinary school and came to the corner just across from Jake’s.  The grill is situated on the Northwest corner of the old Governor Hotel, a beautiful landmark just ten blocks from the Willamette River.

As I strode onto the sidewalk, I could see Wilson through the window.  I waved with my free hand and prepared to enter the brass and glass doorway.

Before I could reach the handle a tall figure suddenly blocked my path.  He was a few inches taller than me with scraggly blonde hair and a soiled red flannel.  His hand was extended and his eyes were pleading.

“Hold on a second,” I said to James.
            “What do you want?” I asked tersely but politely to the gangly man.

“Do you have a dollar?” he replied.

“A what?”

“A dollar.”

“What do you want a dollar for?”

“I’m hungry.”  He said it matter-of-factly.  Then he paused. I watched his mental gears turn.  I just waited; both James (still sitting on the other end of the handset) and I sat silently. Finally he continued, “There is a place up on Eleventh that sells pizza by the slice.  Good pizza.  And I am hungry.”

“(Hold on a minute James), okay, let me get this straight, you are looking for money for food?”

“Yessss.”

“And you can get a slice of pizza for just a dollar?”

“Well, no… no, you can’t.”

“What can you get a slice for?”

“Ummmm, three dollars and fifty cents.”

“So do you need one dollar or do you need three dollars and fifty cents?”

He looked genuinely puzzled, not because he didn’t understand, but maybe because he had never been interrogated like this before.  “Well, I guess I need three dollars and fifty cents.”

“Okay then,” I said, “let me see if I have the change.”  Using my one free hand, I scratched through my wallet and front pocket and soon handed the man three one-dollar bills and two quarters.

As I placed the money in his hand, his eyes were wide as a pepperoni slice.  He balled the money in his fist, flashed a full smile and turned to clunk back up the sidewalk.

Poor James, he had just sat through the whole thing.  I am sure it was quite a drama to behold through the handset.  Unfortunately the drama was not over.

As James and I tried to restore our dialogue, I once again heard the sound of the gangly man’s boots, but they were not headed away from me… they were headed directly for me, at me with intention.  He had target lock.

With a single motion he rose up in front of me and swung his right arm around.  He struck me with force on the left shoulder, the same arm, by the way, that held my mobile phone against my ear.  His face was intense but his eyes were kind. I know now that his intent was gratitude, not assault.  All the same…

The blow sent my phone sailing untethered into the air and then crashing to the sidewalk some eight feet away.  Plastic-formed and electro-fancy pieces cracked and bounced in separate directions.

And then the sound…

Like the cry of the humpback whale came the gangly man’s voice from behind me.  I spun to see him: body limp, jaw hung and clinched knuckles dug into the rubbery centers of his cheeks. “What have I done?! What have I done?”  His eyes now fixed on the disparate phone pieces around the sidewalk.  He couldn’t stop wailing. The sidewalk stopped and gawked.

Then, in a moment for which I could not have predicted, nor could I take credit.  I bent down at the waist.  I got low enough so I could look up into the gangly man’s face and somehow snag his gaze. “Look at me.  Look at me!”

Finally, he snapped from his horror and looked into me.

“Look at me.  You are a person.  Do you hear me?  That is a phone, just a phone.  You are a person. You are a person.”

Most days I walk around in a trance.  In my trance I divide the humans I pass into two categories.  Some are filed away as “people” but if I am honest, most are dismissed as “objects.”  These objects are of no more consequence than a lamppost or a mailbox, mere obstacles of inconvenience.

Then the gangly men come along.  The gangly men are the conduits of God’s grace. They rescue me from my trance.  They remind me that I am not just an object.  I am a person.

Cat Arrested in South America for daring prison break attempt

You may have already heard about the recent incident where a kitty tried to break some people out of prison by packing in some files, a cell phone and so on. This "do it yourself" prison break kit was duct taped onto the cat.

Here's a video of the cat getting strip searched:



If that cat could speak, I'm 95% certain we would hear several of the following comments:

1) PLEASE DON'T USE DUCT TAPE when you put that stuff on me. Please!

2) Everyone keeps saying I can't talk. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I refuse to talk? Because I'm a tough guy? Because I'm not a stool pigeon? HUH? EVER THINK OF THAT?

3) Why do you keep calling me a "white cat"? That's racial profiling, man.

4) I don't understand. This totally worked last time.

I'm not sure what else the cat might say. What do you think?

For writers: a (free) replacement for Duotrope

Hey all you writers out there:

If you have been using Duotrope, you already know they have become a paid outlet. Duotrope, for those who don't know, is a great tool that allows you to search for magazine/web outlets that will publish your short stories or markets. They're now charging $50 a year, and if you use it regularly I have no doubt that it's well worth it. It really is a great tool.

If you don't have the cash, a new upstart site that does much the same thing is The Submissions Grinder. I just signed up for it. It's in beta, so may take a couple months to really get up and running, but there's good potential for it to be a useful tool to those looking for places to send their short stories.

Enjoy.

DISLIKES: GLITTER AND WEBMD (Guest post from Shelby Abbott)

The following post is an excerpt from a book by my friend Shelby Abbott. He's funny, entertaining and has deep thoughts about life, spirituality and movies. I look forward to going to the movies with him later this spring, as has become our tradition when we're hanging out together. Shelby's book is called I'm Awkward, You're Awkward. Enjoy this excerpt!

Glitter might be one of the worst inventions ever created by man. You might think that I’m joking, but I’m as serious about this as Darth Vader was about turning Luke to the dark side in The Empire Strikes Back.

If I ever run for office, the bedrock of my campaign strategy won’t be to balance the budget or fix the health care crisis. It will be the push for complete and total annihilation of the glitter department in the American greeting card industry.

Everybody’s got their one ultimate archenemy: Superman has Lex Luthor, the Red Sox have the Yankees, the democrats have Rush Limbaugh, Chuck Klosterman has Coldplay, and I have glitter. I once heard a comedian say that glitter was “the herpes virus of the crafting world…it just spreads everywhere.” I couldn’t agree more.

Three years ago, I got a birthday card in the mail that had glitter on it and when I opened it, it was like a New Year’s Eve party exploded all over my living room. There was glitter everywhere. Glitter on the carpet, glitter between the couch cushions, glitter on my shoes, glitter in my hair, glitter on my pillow…I was finding glitter scattered around every part of my life for months after I opened that despicable Hallmark birthday wish.

No joke: three weeks went by after I thought that I had finally gotten rid of it all, and I found a speck of glitter in a fresh pair of underpants when I was folding the laundry. Time froze as I held that contaminated pair of boxer shorts and I imagined a movie camera, rigged to a boom operator, zooming in close to my face and whirling around my entire body while slowly moving up toward the ceiling. I closed my eyes, extended both fists to the air (one clenching the underwear, of course) and let out a prolonged and dramatic, “Nooooooo!” Needless to say, I now let my wife open any and every greeting card that comes into our home. And if one happens to be infected with glitter, she is immediately forced to throw it in the trashcan and wash her hands in the basement utility sink not once, not twice, but thrice times. I think you’re hearing what I’m saying by now, right?

Although my disdain for glitter runs strong through my veins, there are a number of other things in this world that also cause me to grumble a bit. I’m a sinful pessimist by nature and things like traffic, crooked window shades, pieces of white fuzz on a black shirt, anything with Bill Maher’s name attached to it, the Greyhound bussing system, and men’s swim trunks with the sewn-in mesh tighty-whitey underwear all rub me the wrong way…sometimes literally. Yet another prime example of a certain something that I dislike (but still want to mention) would be the website, WebMD.

The good people over at WebMD, bless their hearts, have caused a significant amount of distress in my life over the last few years. I know that this is not their intention, of course, but the best intentions of a public medical website really have nothing to do with the fact that I constantly misdiagnose all of my illnesses based upon what information is spit out to me once I type a few of my problems into the “symptom checker”. There have been one too many times that I’ve run across the worst case scenario in that little online feature…like the time I thought I had kidney stones.

I woke up one morning with this pain in my side, right below my rib cage. It really didn’t matter which way I turned or positioned myself, the pain was pretty constant and moderately irritating. After nearly two whole days of living with this annoyance, I did what any internet-educated individual would do in my position—I submitted my symptoms online to WebMD and briefly waited to see the computerized list of my medical diagnoses. Well, at the top of the pile, there it was: “kidney stones”. I freaked.

After Googling my medical discovery, I quickly learned that passing a kidney stone was the male pain equivalent to giving birth. The stone passed one way and one way only, and that was by peeing it out in a long, slow, excruciating process. I freaked again and called to make an appointment with a doctor.

After sheepishly communicating my symptoms to the physician and a hasty look-see process by her on the horribly uncomfortable examination room recliner with the endless roll of disposable butcher paper, she told me that I, in fact, did not have kidney stones, but a small pulled muscle in my lower abdomen. She briskly gave me an unsympathetic look and a prescription for ibuprofen.

When I got home that day after my appointment, I couldn’t help but think about the fact that I am so incredibly quick to put my faith in the most negative of all outcomes. I’ll believe the worst before I even come close to believing the best in any given situation that might require my faith. Do you sometimes find yourself in the same boat as me?

Prussian orphanage director and missionary George Mueller once said, “The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith and the beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety.”

If I want to be a person of faith, then anxiety, worry, fear, and mistrust need to become a thing of the past for me. Mueller says that anxiety and faith cannot coexist at the same time, so when my instantaneous reaction to any little problem is a belief in the worst, I am not being a man of faith.

This is not the kind of life I want to continually live and it is certainly not the life that God calls us to as His followers.  He is asking us to be men and women of faith and to believe that even in the midst of the worst situations, He lovingly reigns over the entire universe with complete sovereignty.

I shouldn’t be so quick to believe the worst, and neither should you. Instead, I should position myself as a humble and faithful child of God that believes in His goodness and grace. As I do, my life will inevitably look different to any onlooker that wrestles with the same issues. And after that, opportunities naturally arise to speak with others about the God that has changed me to my core and offers me the opportunity to live in peace instead of turmoil.

All that being said, I wonder if that kind of faith can make me believe the best about the person or persons that invented glitter? My guess would be “no."

Sword of Six Worlds is NOW AVAILABLE in print!

FINALLY!

The Sword of Six Worlds is now available in print. Quite a few of you have asked me to give you the big announcement when it arrived. It's sold out twice already, so you may have to pre-order it while Amazon gets more stock from the publisher.

A man named Michael sent me a note that he had bought a copy for his son, and here's a bit of what he said on his blog:

 My son grabbed it and immediately started reading. It even trumped the handheld video game console he got for Christmas! If that isn't a high recommendation for an author, I don't know what is!

You can read his whole post here.

NEW STORYMEN PODCAST IS UP AND RUNNING

You guys. I totally neglected to tell you that the new StoryMen podcast is up and running and wonderful. But it is. And you can listen to it here.

I have to say, this is rapidly becoming of the most fun things I do, hanging out virtually with Clay and JR. and talking about pop culture, theology and history.

Any suggestions for topics/guests/conversations are welcome!

Hush little darling. Daddy is going to buy your silence.

My three-year-old daughter, M, likes to have an occasional song sung to her at bedtime. She especially likes it when Krista sings "The Mockingbird Song." I've tried to sing it to her, but she tells me that I get the lyrics wrong.

Here are the lyrics according to M:

Hush little baby, don't say a word
Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird don't sing.
Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.
And if that diamond ring don't shine,
Mama's gonna get you another diamond ring.
And if that other diamond ring don't shine,
Mama's gonna buy you another diamond ring.

And if that diamond ring don't shine,
Mama's gonna get you another diamond ring.
And if that other diamond ring don't shine,
Mama's gonna buy you another diamond ring.
And if that diamond ring don't shine,
You're still the sweetest little baby of mine.

My talks from Denver Winter Conference

The last few days I've been in Denver for the Denver Winter Conference. I had a really great time, met some awesome students and saw some of my good friends.

Here are the sessions from while I was there, complete with my talks. This first talk is one you may have seen at some point, it's from Luke 5, about Simon Peter and what he knew about Jesus when he chose to follow him. I take the stage about 15 minutes in:



Here's my second talk. It's a new one, and this is the first time I've done it so it's a little rough around the edges. It's about the Holy Spirit. I come on stage about 43 minutes into this one, and then I harass the MC for a while:



Numero Tres is about the Great Commission and has a modern retelling of Luke 15. I come in about 31 minutes in:

Enjoy! And Happy New Year!

Wonderful Wednesday: Dance for your cola

Why is it that most "Wonderful Wednesday" posts come from Asia? Because Asia is wonderful, that's why. But usually it's Japan that makes a big splash here at BHR. Today, it's SOUTH KOREA with this awesome Coca Cola machine that gives out free sodas to anyone who can dance as well as a boy band.

No, really:

What's that you say? You want to know more about the K-pop sensation whose dance moves are featured here? Okay, fine, here's a video from boy band 2 PM:

And, just in case a young person was nearby who started shouting JUUUUUUNHOOOOOOO while you were watching, here's your score card for keeping track of the boys (stolen from a commenter on YouTube):

Nickhun - the one playing golf

Wooyoung - the one who's in the airplane

Chansung - the one lying near the pool

Junho - the one who wears shades and smiling

Jun K./Junsu - the one who looks like a DJ

Taecyeon - the one who makes this hand poses in the cam and is the one who entered into the yellow car

Merry Christmas, Little Pigs, little pigs

Merry Christmas everyone!

Right now 3 year old M and I are playing in a fort we made on the couch. It's not quite large enough for me to fit in (so I may have to stay in the stable).

Also, I think I have some catch up to do either with telling M more stories or working on her listening comprehension, because this is the conversation we keep having:

Me: Knock, knock.

Her: Who is it?

Me: The big bad wolf! Little pig, little pig, let me in.

Her (cheerfully): Okay!

Then the "door" swings open and she lets me in. Tomorrow's lesson: The three little pigs, natural selection and when to open the door.

But for today, it's Christmas! And even the big bad wolf should get invited in sometimes.

Okay, we're on our way out to a big Chinese meal for dinner! Merry Christmas!

Storymen Episode 3 is up!

I was out all day today and didn't have a chance to tell you all that the third episode of Storymen is up and available for your listening pleasure. You can listen to it here or subscribe on iTunes. This was a fun show... we had Latifah Al-Attas Phillips of Page CXVI and the Autumn Film on as our guest, and she talked about pop culture, Twilight and shared some music with us.

Anyway, if you enjoy podcasts, check it out. And if you don't like podcasts, pretend it's one of those drive time radio shows and enjoy it anyway.

Exciting New Adventure for Young Fantasy Readers!

Well friends, the hard copies of Sword of Six Worlds are out there now, worming their way into bookstores... and your heart. Ha ha ha.

Here's a poster from Logos bookstore in Nashville, which is carrying the book:

Any day now the paper version of the book will be available on Amazon, as well, and I assume Barnes and Noble and other bookstores can't be far behind!

In the meantime, you can go pick up a copy at Logos!

My three year old makes me laugh

In the evening I lay down in bed with my three year old. Lately she has taken to putting her head at the foot of the bed (having moved her pillow there, too... I suppose making it the head of the bed, actually). I lay the other way, with my head on a stuffed owl.

We usually read a book (tonight was Curious George) or sing a song (often Eidelweiss, which I sang EVERY NIGHT to the older girls for many years). M will talk a bit, say things about the days, sometimes says terrifying things about scary creatures (two nights ago she had me close her window shade because she "saw a creeper" out there... a bit of information she delivered with absolute calm). Eventually, just before she goes to sleep, she says, "Good night, Daddy" and I say good night to her and then she sighs and falls asleep.

Tonight, she said, "Good night, Daddy" and I said, "Good night" and she said, "You have to say my name," so I said good night again only this time with her name.

About a minute later she said, "Is it time to go to sleep?"

That was an odd question, and didn't fit our nightly ritual, so I said, "Yes, it is."

Then she laughed and said, "I know, Dad, that was a joke!"

Good one!

And now she's asleep!

My daughter constantly surprises me

My (almost ten year old) daughter, "A", has been having some trouble with one of her friends at school. In fact, this happens pretty much every year. They start and end the year the best of friends, but somewhere in the middle they both drive each other crazy. We talked some about that, and although A was unhappy, I could tell she was thinking deeply about what to do.

Later, she came downstairs from her room and said, "Dad, I've been thinking about the problem with my friend, and I was thinking that perhaps trying diplomacy would be a good idea."

I was, to say the least, surprised by this appeal to diplomacy. I don't know if I looked shocked or not, but she went on to say, "The way diplomacy works is that I would go to her and tell her what I have done wrong, and then tell her what I feel she has done wrong. Then we would try to come to a conclusion that would make both of us happy."

I asked her if she would like to try diplomacy and she said yes. I wanted to ask her if she would teach a seminar on diplomacy for me and some of my adult friends.

I also asked where she learned about diplomacy, and she said from the book Princess Academy by Shannon Hale. So, thank you, Ms. Hale.

She also said that she had checked the school library and couldn't find any more books about diplomacy, a topic she finds very interesting.

I think I just met the future U.S. Diplomat to Chile.

President Obama's speech at the Connecticut Prayer Vigil

If you haven't already seen President Obama's speech at the Newtown, CT, prayer vigil for those killed last week, you should take a look.

I was surprised by the amount of scripture in it, and was moved at several points. It's about 18 minutes long, and well worth your time.

I'm still processing this all (as I'm sure we all are). My thoughts and prayers go out to all those affected by this tragedy (as well as the shooting here in Clackamas).

Fasting Day 467: Twice the Man I used to be

You may recall last summer when I wrote about my forty day fast. Earlier this week I had a special moment that reminded me of my fast.

Dramatic re-enactment. 

I went to exercise before going in to work, so I threw on my workout clothes and grabbed some clothes out of the closet. After my work out I took a shower, dried off and went to put my clothes on and discovered... that I had grabbed the jeans I bought when I was fasting because all my regular clothes had become too large.

Pants meant for me when I was about forty pounds lighter.

So. It was either wear my work out clothes or find a way into those pants.

I'm happy to report that with correct breathing, impressive upper body strength to pull the button and button hole toward one another and a minimum amount of discomfort I was able to put those pants on. I looked like a rock star with painted on jeans.

More Christmas hilarity from my three year old daughter

Apparently my three year old had made herself an English muffin the other day. It was not split open and it was not toasted, but it was slathered with peanut butter and jelly across the top. She had taken one bite out of it and then left it sitting out on the counter all day.

I left this for you, Santa.

I asked her: M, are you done with this? Can I throw it away?

M: I don't want it. You can just leave it out for Santa.

Me: No, if you don't want it I'll throw it away.

M: Just leave it there and it will be gone in the morning.

Yes, that's right, kids. Every night when you go to bed, Santa comes and eats everything you leave on your plates. Then he washes your dishes and cleans the kitchen. He's a swell guy that Santa.

Wonderful Wednesday: Arnold's Christmas Party

This party looks crazy. I would go to a Christmas party reunion with these people.



My favorite part is when Arnold shares stories from the Old Country and talks about how Krampus came at Christmas and terrified the children.

New MAN OF STEEL trailer is officially awesome

Yes, it's official. I have sent a note to the Office of Awesome and they have confirmed it.



I will be going to this movie. In my Superman Underoos.

My three year old and why she thinks she should get dressed up for Santa

Seems like Santa could get
dressed up a little bit too.

I came home last night and my three-year-old M was all dressed up in a shiny red dress. This is surprising, because usually she likes to wear a t-shirt and underwear and no pants.

I asked her why she was all dressed up, and she said, "For Santa." I asked her why she thought Santa wanted her to be dressed up, and she said, "Because if I dress up he will bring me the presents I want."

Hmmm. I might have to wear nicer clothes tomorrow.

Also, for some reason, M is very focused on what Santa wants her to wear. Also monsters.

What if God sent the flood again today? -- A guest post from author Daniel Keohane

Today's guest post comes from Bram Stoker Award nominated author Daniel Keohane. You can find out more about him and his books on his website. I think you'll find the book he discusses here interesting... what if God decided to repeat himself and have another flood? What if he did it today? And what if there were quite a number of people he decided were worth saving?

Big thanks to Matt for letting me share his spotlight for the day, inviting me to talk about – well, whatever I’d like, related to my recent novel Margaret’s Ark. Though it took a long time (years) to get this novel to where it is now, writing it was such a joy it was easy to pick a specific topic: asking for help from complete strangers.

Briefly, in Margaret’s Ark thousands of people around the world have the same dream, telling them to build an ark on their from yard, the town square, anywhere they can, then convince thirty others to join them before a new flood occurs. I know, I know, most of you reading this are thinking, wait! God said He wouldn’t.... but I actually addressed this issue in the book and, at least I hope I did, to avoid nasty-grams from fellow believers (I must have succeeded, since I really only had two people slam me for the concept).

There were two moments (among surprisingly few) where I found myself staring at the page and wondering – what do I do now? One came early on when my main character Margaret Carboneau stood on the grass of her hometown common (what we New Englanders like to call the town square) staring at a load of lumber with no idea what to do with it all. I had literally been typing this scene when it dawned on me I had no idea how to build a boat, either (obviously, back then I didn’t outline). I had one requirement: everything used must come from the local Home Depot or other home goods supply store.

I went online to a popular message board for writers and posted my question: anyone know how an average person might build a seaworthy boat for 30 people using only Home Depot supplies? I got a couple of brief suggestions, then a man I still have never met named John Craig emailed me directly after reading of my plight. He explained the type of wood to use, how to bend and shape it, then waterproof everything. He included hand-drawn diagrams (scanned into jpeg’s)! I could tell he was having a great time with these emails, being deep in his element (John was an amateur ship builder who visited the message board occasionally). I used almost EVERYTHING he told me, detail-wise. Some of his other suggestions (“You’ll probably have kids on board, so don’t forget to build some compartments for children’s books.”) made so much sense I worked them ito the story, too.

In later drafts, I added a significant setting in the Arctic Circle in order to better illustrate some “scientific” concepts (quotes deliberate – I’m a writer, Jim, not a scientist) used in the book on how the earth could be flooded. In Googling websites on the town of Resolute Bay, I came across a man named Dave who blogged about his year living in this northernmost town. I emailed him, explained I’m a writer working on a scene in the town. I understood he lived there for a time and could he answer some questions. (This is key – if you explain you are a writer most people will be happy to answer questions... through email, phone calls or in person.) He replied and after about three back-and-forths, I had what I needed. He was very detailed, too, having truly enjoyed his stay there. His love for the town came through in his descriptions and when my characters stepped into the town in the book, it felt very real to me and my readers.

So, as we hear often in church and Sunday school: God provides when you ask, as long as you ask for the right thing. Just remember that sometimes you need to step outside and put your question to the people around you, knowing He’ll get the right person to see the question and answer you. Sometimes the burning bush comes in the form of an email from a stranger you may never talk to again, but you will get your answer. It’s how Margaret’s Ark gained more depth than my own imagination could muster – it’s even how I got my new washing machine... but that’s another story. J

What do you think, folks? Questions or comments for Daniel? Leave 'em here and we'll get him to come by and respond!

Secret Novel update: FIRST DRAFT IS DONE!

As of right now!

I overshot the ending... there will be editing to be done without doubt. But here's the ending word count!

76582 / 65000 words. 118% done!

If anyone in the OKC area needs a job....

Star Trek Into Darkness trailer is here!

I hope in this movie that Kirk screams so loud that it's heard from outer space.

Who's going?

EDIT:

I think we need to add this trailer for comparison's sake:

My three year old daughter sends her first emails

My three year old was playing with Krista's iPad the other day and then started sending me emails. She has never sent email before, certainly not without help, so here are the three emails she sent me. All of them came with pictures.

Number One. 

V b bc m c.  .  L $ m. .cv l @huh bm'c.    $!3 e?)?$3&?hvkfdncn.   C. X. C. V.  C.  C. Bvbnngngnfnnfnfnngngnvnnnnvbnv@ bdbnnmv vf, nmcnvnvn ,hbbbgtngkrgjgjjkkjjkylykjffhfbdbdvbfdvgdbngbnbfdjfbffnfbfhfhhhhghhghhghhgbnxj. Bd nbmcbnd. N 

Email number two:

Email #3:

Congratulations, kid, on your first three emails! Now they are immortalized forever on the internet.

QUESTION: How about you? Do you remember your first email?

Bethlehemenian Rhapsody

Christians can Christianize anything. Here it is... Bohemian Rhapsody redone as a loving Christmas song. Be sure to at least wait for the entrance of Baby Jesus!

TOP SECRET NOVEL UPDATE

66262 / 65000 words. 102% done!

GAH! I hit my projected word count but I'm still not done. I've got at least 2.5 chapters ahead of me!

Wonderful Wednesday: Awesome Christmas Flash Mob

I wish this would happen to me!

Top 5 posts in November

Here they are the top five posts (by traffic, of course) from the month of November. Number one, unsurprisingly, was my interview with Rachel Held Evans, the author of A Year of Living Biblically.

Second place was this post, where I made fun of Netflix for their description of The Crucible.

Third place, the 1491s and their hilarious skit about Native actors trying out for the parts of Native werewolves in Twilight's "New Moon."

Fourth place, an episode of Eavesdropping with Matt!

Tied for fifth, two goofy stories from my kids. A cute pet name my daughter calls me. and lastly, my three year old explains why monsters are scary.

How about you? And favorite blog posts you saw last month?

This is the song stuck in my head this morning!

Where are you, Crowded House?

BECAUSE YOU DEMANDED IT! Storymen Episode 2: The Apocalypse Strikes Back!

The new episode of Storymen is up and running, with special guest Jason Boyett, author of The Pocket Guide to the Apocalypse.

You can go listen to the podcast on the Storymen site, subscribe on iTunes or, for those who would rather watch us hang out in Google Chat, you can watch the whole thing here (audio is better, by the way, on the audio version. Go figure).



Be sure to check out the awesome new logo and banner from M.S. Corley on the site!

Secret novel: Getting close!

60002 / 65000 words. 92% done!