Lana and I bought bikes today. I like to describe them as old people bikes. They're "Huffy's," with big, cushiony seats, high handlebars, and no gear shifts. We also bought some accessories.
We first went to a specialty bike store to look at bikes. They had them, but they didn't have one to fit Lana, and even the old folks bikes ran between 330 and 550 bucks each. Their specialty bikes generally ran over 2 grand. We'd not planned on spending that much so we broke down and went to one of those discount stores where we got our two Huffys, an air pump, two locks, a basket for Lana's cameras, and an all in one tool set for less than 300 total. I like to support independent stores, but we probably saved 700 dollars and that's not exactly chump change to me.
Anyway, we're looking forward to our first ride this evening, and the weather is perfect for it here today.
In reading news, I'm reading and enjoying three of the Chuck Norris "fact" books by Ian Spector. I've seen this stuff around but when Borders had their going out of business sale I picked 'em up fairly cheaply and they are pretty funny.
I'm also reading two fine works by blog colleagues, "Resonance" by Avery Debow, and "The Ravening" by Stewart Sternberg. I'll have reviews of those up when I'm finished. I'm certainly enjoying so far.
Nuff said. Let's go ride.
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Showing posts with label Avery DeBow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Avery DeBow. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Ebooks and Paying Markets
In case you didn't know, two of our Blog Colleagues have published with Kindle in the past few days. They are Avery Debow with Resonance, and Bernardl (Bernard Lee Deleo) with Monster. I've got my copies.
Also check out Full Throttle Steve for an ebook offer HERE.
And our friend Rick over at The Writer and the White Cat has some very exciting news for the writers among us.
Just a little Linky Love for everyone.
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Also check out Full Throttle Steve for an ebook offer HERE.
And our friend Rick over at The Writer and the White Cat has some very exciting news for the writers among us.
Just a little Linky Love for everyone.
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Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Halloween Flash #3
OK, here is my third Halloween flash story. It's a revision of something I once posted on another blog in response to a prompt. I hope I was able to turn it into something appropriately Halloweeny. I've also reposted the links to all the other Halloween flash pieces just below my piece. We have new, additional pieces from Avery and Laughingwolf.
HEAVEN
The spaceship jarred as it landed. The computer had done its job, had brought me down safely from orbit. But I was weak, gasping for breath, mind drifting from lack of oxygen. The recycler had broken down. Even my space suit was nearly exhausted of air. But I managed to make it to the airlock.
I didn’t know this planet. Was the atmosphere breathable? I had no choice but to find out. The outer hatch opened under my hand. I staggered through, fell to hands and knees, slapped my helmet release.
A breath shuddered into my lungs. Warm. Languid. It fed me. My lungs filled with it; my body drank it like nectar. I coughed, then forced myself to my feet. The view froze me.
A low mist coiled thickly around my feet, as if I stood on a cloud. But up through the fog thrust metal trees, of copper, black iron, gleaming platinum. Their leaves chimed in a zephyr breeze. Above me, the sky was clear and golden, like melted butter.
And in the sky drifted a city of silver. I heard the belling of trumpets, and rising over the city’s needle spires came a flock of beings who swept toward me. They were white, blindingly white, with feathered wings.
For an instant I wondered if I had died aboard my ship, or if I lay dreaming with brain damaged from oxygen loss. But I’d always understood the difference between fantasy and reality, and the reality was that the creatures who dove toward me were angels.
They began to sing. My heart swelled with the beauty. I lifted my own voice to join theirs.
The angels swirled before me. Their luminous eyes were sharp, piercing. Their voices rose higher and higher.
My own voice faltered. I couldn’t match them. And I realized that their song was no song at all. No song at all.
At the sound of the angels’ laughter, my ears began to bleed.
--- the end ---
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LINKS TO OTHER STORIES
TWO NEW ONES:
Problem Child, by Avery Debow.
lady jane, by Laughingwolf.
EARLIER ONES IN CASE YOU MISSED ‘EM:
Fat Man by Stewart Sternberg.
Twisted by Miladysa.
Having His Say by Sidney Williams.
The Empress of the Fescue, by Avery DeBow.
flight by Laughingwolf.
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HEAVEN
The spaceship jarred as it landed. The computer had done its job, had brought me down safely from orbit. But I was weak, gasping for breath, mind drifting from lack of oxygen. The recycler had broken down. Even my space suit was nearly exhausted of air. But I managed to make it to the airlock.
I didn’t know this planet. Was the atmosphere breathable? I had no choice but to find out. The outer hatch opened under my hand. I staggered through, fell to hands and knees, slapped my helmet release.
A breath shuddered into my lungs. Warm. Languid. It fed me. My lungs filled with it; my body drank it like nectar. I coughed, then forced myself to my feet. The view froze me.
A low mist coiled thickly around my feet, as if I stood on a cloud. But up through the fog thrust metal trees, of copper, black iron, gleaming platinum. Their leaves chimed in a zephyr breeze. Above me, the sky was clear and golden, like melted butter.
And in the sky drifted a city of silver. I heard the belling of trumpets, and rising over the city’s needle spires came a flock of beings who swept toward me. They were white, blindingly white, with feathered wings.
For an instant I wondered if I had died aboard my ship, or if I lay dreaming with brain damaged from oxygen loss. But I’d always understood the difference between fantasy and reality, and the reality was that the creatures who dove toward me were angels.
They began to sing. My heart swelled with the beauty. I lifted my own voice to join theirs.
The angels swirled before me. Their luminous eyes were sharp, piercing. Their voices rose higher and higher.
My own voice faltered. I couldn’t match them. And I realized that their song was no song at all. No song at all.
At the sound of the angels’ laughter, my ears began to bleed.
--- the end ---
----------------
LINKS TO OTHER STORIES
TWO NEW ONES:
Problem Child, by Avery Debow.
lady jane, by Laughingwolf.
EARLIER ONES IN CASE YOU MISSED ‘EM:
Fat Man by Stewart Sternberg.
Twisted by Miladysa.
Having His Say by Sidney Williams.
The Empress of the Fescue, by Avery DeBow.
flight by Laughingwolf.
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Monday, October 13, 2008
Halloween Horror October
My Halloween Flash #3 is almost ready but I probably won't get it posted till tomorrow. Today is Lana's birthday and we're off to the big city's bright lights for some fun and games. Actually, we're going to the insectorium because we just don't get enough bugs around here.
However, so as not to leave you Jonesing for some flash fiction horrors, two new folks have entered the lists with their own wicked quickie tales. So check 'em out for some shudders. The links are:
Fat Man by Stewart Sternberg.
And:
Twisted by Miladysa.
And Sidney Williams, Avery DeBow, and Laughingwolf still have their tales up as well. The links are below.
Having His Say by Sidney.
The Empress of the Fescue, by Avery.
flight by Laughingwolf
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However, so as not to leave you Jonesing for some flash fiction horrors, two new folks have entered the lists with their own wicked quickie tales. So check 'em out for some shudders. The links are:
Fat Man by Stewart Sternberg.
And:
Twisted by Miladysa.
And Sidney Williams, Avery DeBow, and Laughingwolf still have their tales up as well. The links are below.
Having His Say by Sidney.
The Empress of the Fescue, by Avery.
flight by Laughingwolf
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Saturday, October 11, 2008
Halloween Flash #2
Well, here is the second installment of Halloween Horror October. It's called "Spot." But don't rush away after you finish the story. Two other folks have joined in the fun, Avery DeBow, with the very eerie "The Empress of the Fescue," and Laughingwolf, with a tightrope walking piece of prose called "flight." The links to these stories will be posted after the end of "Spot." And if you missed my "Halloween Flash #1," called "Goodnight," just see my Thursday post. Hope you enjoy!
Note: Sidney Williams has posted a Halloween Flash Horror over on his blog so I'm going to add his link to this post, at the bottom. It's an evil little piece deserving of your attention, called "Having His Say."
SPOT
Spot is my pet and I love him. My daddy brought him home last week, but already we’re inseparable. He sleeps on the floor by my bed and I feed him scraps from the table when no one is looking.
I love my daddy, too. And not just because he brought Spot home after my dog, Rover, died. Daddy knows everything. He teaches at a major university and is a doctor, though I’m always sposed to remember he’s not a “med doctor” but a doctor of Sperimental Psychology. He says med doctors are just plumbers.
I’m eight years old and one thing that worried me at first about Spot was that he was older than me. So was Rover. But when I asked Daddy if he thought Spot might die soon from old age, he said not to worry, that Rover had died from barking too much and Spot doesn’t bark.
Spot plays all the games I like, as long as I give him clear orders. I especially like to play fetch with him, and he never gets the ball all slobbery like Rover did. The only thing I don’t like is that he’s not as much fun to pet as Rover. Part of it is that he doesn’t have Rover’s soft fur, but I think a lot of it is the ugly black box attached to his head. It gets in the way a lot.
Daddy says the box is really important, though. He says that it has lectrodes that control Spot, and that without it Spot would run away. I don’t want that to happen so I’ll just have to live with the box, I guess. I sure wouldn’t want to see Spot’s picture on a milk carton like those other lost kids.
--- the end ---
----------------
Empress of the Fescue, by Avery DeBow.
flight, by Laughingwolf.
Having His Say by Sidney Williams.
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Note: Sidney Williams has posted a Halloween Flash Horror over on his blog so I'm going to add his link to this post, at the bottom. It's an evil little piece deserving of your attention, called "Having His Say."
SPOT
Spot is my pet and I love him. My daddy brought him home last week, but already we’re inseparable. He sleeps on the floor by my bed and I feed him scraps from the table when no one is looking.
I love my daddy, too. And not just because he brought Spot home after my dog, Rover, died. Daddy knows everything. He teaches at a major university and is a doctor, though I’m always sposed to remember he’s not a “med doctor” but a doctor of Sperimental Psychology. He says med doctors are just plumbers.
I’m eight years old and one thing that worried me at first about Spot was that he was older than me. So was Rover. But when I asked Daddy if he thought Spot might die soon from old age, he said not to worry, that Rover had died from barking too much and Spot doesn’t bark.
Spot plays all the games I like, as long as I give him clear orders. I especially like to play fetch with him, and he never gets the ball all slobbery like Rover did. The only thing I don’t like is that he’s not as much fun to pet as Rover. Part of it is that he doesn’t have Rover’s soft fur, but I think a lot of it is the ugly black box attached to his head. It gets in the way a lot.
Daddy says the box is really important, though. He says that it has lectrodes that control Spot, and that without it Spot would run away. I don’t want that to happen so I’ll just have to live with the box, I guess. I sure wouldn’t want to see Spot’s picture on a milk carton like those other lost kids.
--- the end ---
----------------
Empress of the Fescue, by Avery DeBow.
flight, by Laughingwolf.
Having His Say by Sidney Williams.
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