It's All Relative

My car is thirteen years old and has suffered every possible misfortune, from being attacked by a deer to having a child throw up in it.

Lately, stinkbugs have invaded my car. Surprisingly, they're making it smell better.

The Freelance Life

OK: the most recent book is done (although it won't be published until this fall). I finished my last paying writing job yesterday. I do have a deadline for some writing jobs I agreed to do for free. Other than that, everything else is on spec.

Ah, the life of a writer. (Was it really so bad, working swing shift at the styrofoam cup factory?)

Another Reason I Prefer Writing at Starbucks

I'm working in a library today. My editor just phoned me with some questions, and I got shushed by a librarian. This is another reason to prefer writing at Starbucks: no one there cares if you take phone calls.

And the coffee is a lot better at Starbucks than the vending-machine coffee at the library. I don't care if the library coffee is three times cheaper!

First Firefly of the Year

I saw my first firefly of the year last night. They usually don't show up in this neighborhood until Memorial Day or later. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that it has rained every day for the past ten days!

Blood on the Mac and Cheese

I went to the dentist this morning and had two cavities filled. I try to avoid Novocaine, but my dentist felt it was necessary.

I'd skipped breakfast, so I went for some lunch afterwards. Soft food was called for. I got some mac and cheese - something I rarely eat - at a neighborhood Panera Bread Company.

And it wasn't long before I noticed blood in my mac and cheese.

This is why I don't like to get Novocaine: I usually manage to bite my lips or the inside of my cheek without noticing. This time it was my lower lip.

Well, at least I got a story title out of it: Blood on the Mac and Cheese. Now, is that a title for a Young Adult book, or a soft-boiled detective novel? You tell me.

Why I Write in Starbucks

I'm writing in a Starbucks today. Yesterday I wrote in a Panera Bread Company. I haven't worked in a library in over a week.

Why? The truth: it's not the coffee, it's not the food.

It's the bathrooms.

I often work in public libraries. In fact, I prefer it: they're a lot quieter than commercial establishments, and they have books for research.

But, when I work in a library, the bathrooms are usually far away. At my favorite library, the distance from the work tables to the bathrooms has to be the equivalent of a full city block! So, when I go to the bathroom in the library, I leave my laptop unattended for a much longer time.

This battered MacBook of mine would cost about $1,200 to replace. I get nervous leaving it unattended for any span of time.

At the Starbucks where I'm at, the bathroom is just five steps away. I'm in and out of the bathroom so fast, the screen saver doesn't have time to come up! (Yes, I wash my hands.)

When my business writing partner is back in town, I'll be back at a library. She can't work in commercial spaces, with their distractions and piped-in music. But until then, I'll be at a Starbucks or Panera.

Another coffee, please!

When Oscar Wilde Died, He Apparently Left Me His Talent

A recent blog post about my story "Intellectuals in Bubbatown" said:

Two things leaped out at me from this story: One, Mr. Conaway has the best ear for Texas dialect since Dan Jenkins. Two: When I was in San Antonio a while back I read on a plaque on a wall by the bar in the Hotel Menger that Oscar Wilde had visited that bar back a ways in the century and astounded the cowboys who, to a man, said, "We liked the hell out of the little feller,but you jest cain't understand a WORD he says." If I didn't know better i'd say that this story could have been written by Oscar after he met the Texans. Thirdly (yeah, I know thats three things. Sue me.): That's way too funny a tale for words to express. Thanks for the highlight Kaye. Major fun.
- ajhayes2

That's the first time I've ever been mentioned in the same sentence as Oscar Wilde. It makes up for that blog post that called me the Antichrist.

(My thanks to Kaye George, who commented on my story in Chris Rhatigan's blog Death by Killing. And to whomever ajhayes2 is.)