Every Childlike Author needs a Playground.

Archive for March, 2014

No Ideas and a Bit of Childhood

As a blogger who prefers to come up with my own ideas for my articles, they can run out pretty fast. Yes, I take the time to jot down any halfway decent ideas that may occur to me throughout the week, but ideas don’t jump into my lap everyday. And when they do jump into my lap, they’re not always good ideas, or they could be only partial ideas that need a lot more substance to be worth writing about—substance that may not fully develop for years. Really this wouldn’t be so bad, except that I’m a bit on the younger side of life… which means none of those years needed to grow and age these halfway decent ideas into good ideas have taken place. The wine is new-made, so to speak.

Even worse, I have little real experience to write about. I’ve got my college days, and my high school days, and middle school, and even most of my life before middle school, but it’s not particularly interesting stuff. I’ve lived in the same town for my entire life (except for two years in college), and things have been… well, normal. But I’m not complaining, even though I’ve only a measly twenty years of life experience from which to draw ideas. I’ll get there eventually. In the mean time, I might as well recount my first memories. They are from the ripe and tottering old age of two, and they are vivid, unhappy memories which formed and set through acute distress.

In one of these memories, I was briefly forgotten by my mother, who left me, tired and drowsy, in a car seat while she carried groceries into our home. This doesn’t sound so bad on its own, but it turned into a nightmare when every single one of the big, Dodge Ram van doors closed around me… and all of my siblings and both of my parents disappeared into the house, leaving me alone and, by this time, asleep. You can imagine what happened when I woke (or you could just keep reading because I’ll tell you).



A Few Authors… and their Hair, Part Two

On the heels of blogging success, my tribute to famous hair and their authors famous authors and their hair continues. If you missed the first installment, then you can click on the following link to read Part One: A Few Authors… and their Hair, Part One

I now give you Part Two, of A Few Authors… and Their Hair.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is the author of the famed Sherlock Holmes detective stories, among other things, like The White Company, or um, well, does anybody know or care about anything else except Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson? Born in 1859, Doyle grew up to solve only a single mystery involving a missing woman and Scottish train schedules. He also changed his name to Dr. John Watson at will, or perhaps out of confused lunacy, as he often signed autographs in the name of the character which he himself created (that, or the reverse: Dr. Watson was the real identity and Sir Doyle the fictional one). It’s rumored that his personality disorder was the initial cause for his interest in spiritualism. However, most literary scholars have concluded that the author’s interest in spiritualism was (indirectly) caused by his mustache. In the words of one of these scholars:

Doyle’s, or Watson’s, mustache (however you want to refer to him), was a result of painstaking care. Each morning he would wax it with a mixture of bear grease and cement, before putting his face mere inches away from a heated brazier in order to bake the treatment into a hardness rivaling high-tech ceramics. The spiritualism arose from an incident involving a London cab, in which he stumbled and impaled a beautiful woman with one side of his dangerously hard icepick facial hair. The woman died, and Doyle was ever afterward a changed man, often seen twirling his mustache during séances. We can only guess that “The Woman” haunted him for the rest of his life.

He would often prick his own fingers while carelessly stroking the pointy ends.

He would often prick his own fingers while carelessly stroking the pointy ends.

Oscar Wilde


A Few Authors… and their Hair, Part One

Since being Freshly Pressed for my post on how to become a limo driver, I’ve had a few thoughts. One: Thank you everybody who read it. My site views have more than doubled since being Pressed, and my follower count has increased by approximately 20 percent. Those are incredible numbers in my opinion. Two: It’s gratifying to be recognized for little things, and it’s encouraging to be selected after only nine total weeks of blogging. Three: Now that I’m a little more successful, I can start associating myself with all those other famous writers, right?

Thus, as a tribute to all those authors who are now my peers plainly jealous of my eminent prestige, both posthumous and contemporary, I’ve decided to compile a list of said authors… and their hair. Of course, I’ve left out many authoresses (all of them, in fact),  because it turns out women’s hair isn’t as varied or as interesting as men’s hair. This is a curious outcome, and contrary to my original thought which assumed women had more fascinating locks. Upon reflection, however, I know this to be absurd for the simple reason that women can’t grow beards! Well, most women. On the other hand, men can certainly grow their hair out past their shoulders.

Conclusion: Men have more interesting hair, facial and otherwise (think chest hair).

Now, without further ado, I give you Part One of the famous authors and their famous hair.

Terry Pratchett

Terry Pratchett is the author of the popular and well-known Discworld series. He also collaborated on Good Omens with Neil Gaiman (also on this list). Born in 1948, this means he’s way older than  me (and probably you), and has seen some crazy things in his day, like the Cold War or other, um, British historical events. Additionally, I bet he used a typewriter for his first book, The Carpet People. I imagine he is jealous of my youth, and will probably try to make me eat a pair of woolen socks. He’s got a beard, a nice one, and has had it since at least the early 1970’s.

Look at that beard! Just look at it!

Look at that beard! Just look at it!

Mark Twain


The Opening Lines: An Excerpt from my Soon-to-be Finished Book

Mountain Peak

I know a lot of my friends and acquaintances have been waiting, sometimes patiently, sometimes impatiently, for me to finish my novel. I imagine this is mostly so they can “hurry up and read it already” rather than a healthy interest in paying me money (er… congratulating me) for the fruit of all my hard work. But that’s okay. I want all of you to read it, and (eventually), you’ll be able to read the whole thing. That’s right. The whole thing. I just hope that when you do, it will be in the form of a bound copy printed by a major publishing house.

That’s the dream, anyway. (more…)

Ooger and Uugg Take a Bath

My name be Uugg.

Er… This be Ooger.  Ooger draw himself.


Ooger draw me too, but Uugg embarrassed by (more…)