Quill & Claw/Pen & Paw

"Hey. Google. I. Am. Home." The words felt stilted, broken, as if I was recovering from some kind of cranial disaster that Lifetime Movies seem to make a killing on. When the sentence was done, the lighting switched, the television came on low, and the bedroom lit up just enough on this rainy afternoon that I could change into my gym clothes without loss of valuable time. I didn't want to go to the gym too late. The youth would arrive and hog the machines and make me horribly self-conscious. As I dressed, I spoke to the Google Mini in my bedroom, but, this time, with a pace that was a bit more languid, I bit more natural. "Okay, Google, message husOtter, that I'm on the way to the gym and the dogs have been fed." "Sending message." "Hey Google, play some dance music." I need to move my feet more, being all tired from work. But I was not truly tired. I was able to finish all those afternoon productivity chores that real...

Boom Start with a Dad joke and just move into the post. Right after Dad's day, too. The fact is, I've been thinking of reboots for some time now. I was knocking Hollywood's massive proliferation of them and my annoyance with them. However, the straights with kids were all over me. They complained on that board that they would rather take their kid to a reboot where there's a possibility their kids might like it over something that may or may not be suitable. Fuck. There's a point. But, when you think about it, aren't, like, most Disney movies, like, a reboot? They always have the same formulaic pieces, they same outcomes. And, when it comes to horror (more of the horror porn variety), every sequel is a reboot. Or James Bond? Those are all reboots, too. Heck, and every picture in the Marvel Studios repertoire should probably be considered reboots, as they take the basic character from the previous film and reinsert their existence in a different manner....

I am always a bit more open minded than my critical cohorts when it comes to the differences in media, like books, movies, stage, and television. Each one has its merits; each one has its drawbacks. When it comes to scares? Books are able to get to the nitty-gritty; movies, with a touch of close up and a blast of instrumentals, are the way to go; comedies are terrific on the stage, where the actors can use their skill to keep us giggling, television works slightly better, due to the fact we’re all so comfortable on our couches at home. These are observations of mine. Not science. But it seems to work in theory. And for every rule there is a delicious exception. Have you seen Deathtrap ? A thriller on the stage. And I felt that Chicago , the famed musical, surpassed itself on the movie screen, even though it was quite good on stage-a place where musicals can wonderfully flourish. However, today’s movie list gives us something that I can only see on the big screen. Movies have a...

Oh, how I've missed you. I've not a clue as to why I've not published here, Fate knows, I've had ample opportunity to do so. I just, I don't know, not there? I tried my best to retool a short story I had created into a novel, and it slumped with purple prose and just wasn't all that interesting to me, so I knew it could not have been interesting to any kind of reader. From there? I kept trying to pick up topics and write about them--and nothing stuck. And that was in the novel-writing department. So you can only guess how hard it hit me here, in the blogging department. Then? Inspiration as I cleaned up my office this morning, in an attempt to fitness my aching and harmed back: several listology books my friend in Colorado had sent. And I was inspired. At least, yes, for today. Until my back aches from this horrid office chair. See, because I've not been writing a novel, I was reading them. Several. Not in the mood to list them, as they were ch...

Considering elsewhere I've listed my favorite books here on these pages, I think I'm going to approach this with immediate memory and forethought. That list was pondered and milled over by several months of research, narrowing and narrowing my literary stupidity into one, fine, focus. Hey, I admit it. I like to read. But, well, my tastes are rarely sophisticated. I even, on occasion, will listen to country music. Remember, I grew up on a steady diet of Stephen King as a teen. And since I discovered him, like, after all of his really good books were published, it was easy to find reading material. And I tried to find other books that kept me interested, but the pacing, the verve never really caught on for me, so I was forced to branch out into books that weren't that scary. Sure, I tried Dean Koontz, and he was okay. But, when I tried to read the second one, I noticed that the plotline was pretty much the same as the first. As was the third attempt. Then? My belove...

Unless they are me, of course. I don't have many scars, however, so I really have to rely on my tattoos in many ways. And, since I've been known to hack a yarn or two, the tattoos, I'm thinking, are the way to go.  Today's writing challenge is talk about my tattoos.  So I guess the one who started this challenge is a millennials. I remember in the 70s, my babysitter got a tattoo and it was something of a scandal. Now? When I'm at the gym and there's men in various states of undress, I've noticed a specific pause when I DON'T see a tattoo. I have to ponder. Is he a mere youth? Is it something who a fitness model? Are they just broke?  Cause tattoos, being unregulated, are fucking expensive. I actually like to think I was ahead of the curve. I remember discussing, over coffee at Paris on the Platte coffeehouse the kinds of tattoos and where they would best. Now, understand, I have severe body image issues. I always have. And, experienc...