Shark Bone

 That's such a great question and one I struggle with a lot. What am I doing with my life? What am I doing with my blog? How can I accomplish what I want? What do I even want? I'm sure many people struggle with these questions. In fact, I know many people do. In my youth, I was a missionary for the church I was raised in and the message I carried did manage to help some people. It's a message I've since rejected due to a lot of factors and experiences, but that doesn't diminish the fact that it was of help to some individuals.  I've been finding my own way through life for many years. Due to the manner of my upbringing, the journey has been tumultuous. And, that journey is not over for me. I have many more things to learn, many more things to figure out about myself and for myself. But, I've found peace in that journey. Not that all my problems and issues and resolved, but that I have learned and discovered that the journey itself brings peace.  I'm not ...

 This is a Revival! A New Beginning™! A return to what I once was and did and wanted to become. Really, that's all hyperbole. It's been over a year since I've updated this blog and I've done a lot  of soul-searching in that time. My childhood was such that I didn't have an opportunity to figure out who I am and what I want from life until recently, and it's been a long, confusing struggle to understand myself. However, I feel like I've made significant strides, recently! I am more comfortable with myself than I have ever been. I am working on my shortcomings and I have chosen directions in my life that are taking me to places I want to be.  One thing that hasn't  changed is my love for the written word, and my love for stories. I am a forever-GM. I'm constantly running games for my game groups, and rarely get opportunities to play in tabletop roleplaying games. And, to tell the truth, that's the way I like it! I prefer to engage in this hobby by ...

It’s the morning of the first day of the year. The house is silent; my family is sleeping. I am up early to contemplate my life and what I want to do with this year that stretches out before me, like a field covered in untouched snow. It’s a curious question. I feel like this is a chance to reinvent myself, to be all the things that I’ve always wanted to be! And, yet, why must I wait for an opportunity like this, a new calendar year, to be who I want to be? I should strive for that each and every day. Life is short. Too short. You never know when it will come to an end. It doesn’t matter how healthy or ill you are; the end could come at any moment. Of course, we can’t let that rule the way we live. We still must plan and act as if we will be around for years to come. But, do we? We know we won’t be around forever. Carpe diem, the saying goes. How will I seize the day? How will I live my life this year to maximize the time I have? It’s not a question that has an easy answer, at least...

The neon lights flashed and flickered, giving the crowd surrounding the starting line the look of a rave. They were loud and staring, staring at the two machines crouched just behind the white line that had been hurriedly sprayed across the street. A light drizzle fell on the whole scene, making the dark pavement reflect the lights and faces, distorting them as the water trembled in time with the deafening music. Laach gripped the steering wheel as his vehicle rumbled beneath him. Though the night was cool, sweat beaded his forehead and he nervously glanced to his left, to the vehicle sitting next to his, to the driver inside. The other driver caught his glance and smiled at him, a mocking, arrogant smile. Kurt looked confident. Of course he did; he’d won every single ’scraper race he’d ever competed in. Laach jerked his head back around to face the front, nervously twisting his hands where they gripped the wheel. He had to win this match. If he did, the money he’d win would pay his...

"Hello, Stranger!" you say to me, as I sit at your table and pull the pitcher of beer towards me. "It's been quite awhile since you've been around here, telling your tales." I grab a mug from a neighboring table and toss the dregs onto the straw-strewn floor and wipe it out roughly with the bottom of my shirt before filling it from your pitcher. I meet your gaze and down all of it before slamming the mug down with a satisfied sigh. "Indeed it has," I answer. "But, I'm back!" I grin and chuckle to myself before adding, "For a time, anyway." --//-- So much time has gone by since I've updated this space! It's hard to believe; it feels like it's been forever, and at the same time, like no time has passed at all. But, here I am! With more to share! More words to write and thoughts to give shape! I've been writing up a storm since my last update and have jumped from one project to another, at least twice. In that t...

It looks like it's time for another blog post! Despite my desires to post more frequently, I've only been able to get about one post up per month. Perhaps in the future, I'll be able to post more frequently. I'm currently writing a short story about a group of young adults who have fallen into monster hunting. The story was inspired by the role-playing game and novels of #iHunt , which are fantastic by the way, but I wanted to approach that subject matter my own way. It's been a fun ride, so far, and I'm really enjoying the characters I've created and the story that's unfolding. I started writing it with only the vaguest of plans, so the events that I end up adding to the story surprise me, more often than not. The act of writing this story, of sitting in front of my laptop and typing out words, is extremely enjoyable. While I've known for quite awhile that I like to write, this project has brought that home. And, it helped me realize another thing...

The statue sat on the glass display case, uncaring as the man and woman standing on either side of it argued. They bumped the case with their gestures, rocking the small figurine on its uneven base, as their words grew more and more heated. "We had a deal!" the woman yelled. "I have emails, from you , agreeing to $500 for this piece!" She waved her phone at the man as if it wielded some kind of magic. The man growled in response. "That was before I learned its history. Its worth !" the man yelled. "It's worth ten times what we agreed, which you obviously knew! You were trying to rob me!" The case rocked a bit more as the man's belly bumped against it while he jabbed an accusing finger her way. "Me?" the woman shrieked, "rob you ? You're the one committing robbery here, and..." she began to dig in her purse, then raised a small revolver from it and pointed it at the man, "I don't have to take it!" ...

Today, I decided to write something inspired by my favorite book, Armor by John Steakley. I'd love to say that the first time I read this book I was struck by the characters and the storytelling and, I suppose I was, but I honestly can't remember my first time. This is an amazing book that I have read so many times over the years and one I try to read once every year. While I'd love to talk about how much I enjoy the book and why, what I really want to do is talk about what I find so intriguing about it: The story is told in two parts and the only character that takes constant part in both parts is a suit of armor. Armor. This isn't just any suit of armor, but an advanced scout power suit that's capable of running for days without any support and tearing through hordes of enemy bugs. That's damn impressive, but nothing compared to the pilot of the suit of whom the first part is about. He. Just. Will. Not. Die. And then, his part of the story ends and we foll...

This past weekend, I experience an epiphany. My family and I went to an outdoor concert of The Desert Winds , led by my son's band teacher. That man is so passionate about music. He shared his passion with the audience through introductions and history snippets of each piece the band played. He shared his feelings about a couple of the pieces, and explained why one of the pieces was so important to him, having been a favorite of an old teacher of his who passed away a couple years prior. I wanted to feel that same passion about something in my life. I want my life to have that same color, that same rhythm, that same passion that he showed. I thought about it a lot, and I realized that I do feel that in a small way, for the written word, for stories. I figured that If I can learn to experience that same fire for the written word and the stories that I love, I can experience that same excitement for life that he showed. The written word has fascinated me for a very long time. It...