A hand taps the shoulder of an incredibly gorgeous looking woman resting in a lounge chair. She raises the brim of her floppy hat and lowers her sunglasses to see what's what. The hand thumgs over its shoulder. The gorgeous lady peers over the shoulder and nods slightly. She then dowsn the last of her drink, stands up and puts on an oversized shirt. She give the hand a gentle squeeze and walks of view.....
Hiya folks! It is I, G.B.'s wonderfully talented and incredibly hot muse, who'll be spending this fine October day chewing the fat and passing the time talking about nothing of import or consequence, at least to me that is. But then again, one never really knows.
G.B. asked me early yesterday morning if I would do a guest spot on the blog today, 'cause he had something of actual import that did not revolve around work. I told him, "Why yes, I would just LUV to talk on your blog today. Problem is, I have nothing of import to talk about. Got suggestions?"
Roughly one minute minute later, I had an idea, courtesy of the oneness that we have that I sometimes forget about. So, without further ado, here goes nothing.
October 26, 2015
Fundamental Reading Is
I have been for the better part of 40 years, a voracious reader. Didn't matter what the material was, newspaper, book, magazine, periodical, I read it. And for the most part, enjoyed it. Lately though, it seems that my interest in reading has waned quite a bit, and sadly, a lot of it has to do more with what I choose to read than anything else.
For better or worse (mostly worse it seems) my selections from the library has left an extremely sour taste in my mouth. It seems like for the past several books that I'd checked out of the library I have found to be wanting.
For example, out of the last four non-fiction books that I've checked out, I've only read one to completion. To whit:
John Lydon's latest memoir is just a rehash of his previous memoir, except a few extra years have been added on.
Ringo Starr's bio. This one, I got to the very end of a six page intro to find out that it was more of an unauthorized bio than anything else. Nothing worse that reading a bio about someone only to find out at the very end that it was written w/o the cooperation of the subject matter (Robert DeNiro's bio is also written sans Robert DeNiro's input).
John Prine's bio. Ditto.
Charles Dodson's (aka Lewis Carroll) bio. This one simply didn't grab me. Read through about one dozen pages of a prologue that concentrated on Alice Liddell before I cried Uncle Albert.
I've also encountered this problem with my choice of fiction as well. To whit, the last two books I've read by W. Bruce Cameron (he of 8 Simple Rules) were just phenomenal pieces of fiction (A Dog's Journey and A Dog's Purpose) that stayed with me long after I had returned them. But one that I checked out a week or so ago called The Midnight Plan Of The Repo Man, simply doesn't do it for me. I got as far as the beginning of chapter 2 before I gave up the ghost.
So from this brief sample, you can probably deduce that I've hit a serious dry spell. And for those of you who don't know my reading habits very well and think I'm being a little whiny, all of these books met my minimum criteria for selection: good title, good jacket blurb and a good random page read.
So now this leaves me in a bind for reading material. As of late, I don't bring books into work to read. Too many issues have arisen from me sitting at my desk with my nose buried in a book, so I do crossword puzzles at work. Thus, the books I pick up from the library are for when I need a temporary break from reality.
For better or worse (mostly worse it seems) my selections from the library has left an extremely sour taste in my mouth. It seems like for the past several books that I'd checked out of the library I have found to be wanting.
For example, out of the last four non-fiction books that I've checked out, I've only read one to completion. To whit:
John Lydon's latest memoir is just a rehash of his previous memoir, except a few extra years have been added on.
Ringo Starr's bio. This one, I got to the very end of a six page intro to find out that it was more of an unauthorized bio than anything else. Nothing worse that reading a bio about someone only to find out at the very end that it was written w/o the cooperation of the subject matter (Robert DeNiro's bio is also written sans Robert DeNiro's input).
John Prine's bio. Ditto.
Charles Dodson's (aka Lewis Carroll) bio. This one simply didn't grab me. Read through about one dozen pages of a prologue that concentrated on Alice Liddell before I cried Uncle Albert.
I've also encountered this problem with my choice of fiction as well. To whit, the last two books I've read by W. Bruce Cameron (he of 8 Simple Rules) were just phenomenal pieces of fiction (A Dog's Journey and A Dog's Purpose) that stayed with me long after I had returned them. But one that I checked out a week or so ago called The Midnight Plan Of The Repo Man, simply doesn't do it for me. I got as far as the beginning of chapter 2 before I gave up the ghost.
So from this brief sample, you can probably deduce that I've hit a serious dry spell. And for those of you who don't know my reading habits very well and think I'm being a little whiny, all of these books met my minimum criteria for selection: good title, good jacket blurb and a good random page read.
So now this leaves me in a bind for reading material. As of late, I don't bring books into work to read. Too many issues have arisen from me sitting at my desk with my nose buried in a book, so I do crossword puzzles at work. Thus, the books I pick up from the library are for when I need a temporary break from reality.
October 23, 2015
Are I Back?
Sort of.
Real world issues needed to be addressed last week, and while they haven't been 100% resolved, they have been upgraded from a resume stain to a stained resume. And while stupid is as stupid does (and yes, my job did something completely asinine, much to my unpleasant surprise) and while we won't go Forrest Gump on ya (please no!!!!!!), we will attempt a little whimsy to brighten up your Friday Wile E. Coyote-Super Genius does his very best lighten my load in my head (don't wanna play no head games).
I have a window in my den. And while it isn't a window to my rainbow bright soul, it is a window to the outside world. Being that it's attached to a cellar located just above ground but below my feet, I don't see that much looking out 'cause someone is sneaking through after playing in the playground in my mind......
Anywho, I don't see much through the window. What I do see is basically a tree.
Specifically, the tree on the left is the one that I see. It was cut down about year ago or so as it was very much dead and very much a safety hazard. Surprisingly, it has given rebirth to fresh new branches and leaves. The wonders of Father Nature, eh?
However, I do get a lot of sound while slipping through the garden gate that prevents me from wandering around and getting lost. 'Cause getting lost isn't really fun, but to say that you're no fun is to pinch a phrase, and to pinch a phrase is to be a writer and to be a writer is to pinch a phrase.
Or a quote.
But, to say that a tangent is irrelevant in a blog is to say that frying an egg in a hot frying pan is not the ultimate analogy in the annals of PSA's, whether radio or video, is simply dead wrong.
And that, my friends, is why having a window without a view, as opposed to a room with a view (so long at isn't a brick wall), can be a very good thing.
Peaches, lust and tequila sunrises for all.
(c) 2015 BOOKS BY G.B. MILLER. All Rights Reserved.
Real world issues needed to be addressed last week, and while they haven't been 100% resolved, they have been upgraded from a resume stain to a stained resume. And while stupid is as stupid does (and yes, my job did something completely asinine, much to my unpleasant surprise) and while we won't go Forrest Gump on ya (please no!!!!!!), we will attempt a little whimsy to brighten up your Friday Wile E. Coyote-Super Genius does his very best lighten my load in my head (don't wanna play no head games).
I have a window in my den. And while it isn't a window to my rainbow bright soul, it is a window to the outside world. Being that it's attached to a cellar located just above ground but below my feet, I don't see that much looking out 'cause someone is sneaking through after playing in the playground in my mind......
Anywho, I don't see much through the window. What I do see is basically a tree.
Specifically, the tree on the left is the one that I see. It was cut down about year ago or so as it was very much dead and very much a safety hazard. Surprisingly, it has given rebirth to fresh new branches and leaves. The wonders of Father Nature, eh?
However, I do get a lot of sound while slipping through the garden gate that prevents me from wandering around and getting lost. 'Cause getting lost isn't really fun, but to say that you're no fun is to pinch a phrase, and to pinch a phrase is to be a writer and to be a writer is to pinch a phrase.
Or a quote.
But, to say that a tangent is irrelevant in a blog is to say that frying an egg in a hot frying pan is not the ultimate analogy in the annals of PSA's, whether radio or video, is simply dead wrong.
And that, my friends, is why having a window without a view, as opposed to a room with a view (so long at isn't a brick wall), can be a very good thing.
Peaches, lust and tequila sunrises for all.
(c) 2015 BOOKS BY G.B. MILLER. All Rights Reserved.
October 16, 2015
Where's G.B.?
Rest assured, I are here. Just not in cyber space. I wish I could say it was due to being super busy with my writing, but alas, it has more to do with serious issues at work, of which I really don't feel like elaborating or bloviating about. For the moment, I'm really not in a comfortable frame of mind for blogging, but I felt that I owed an explanation to my friends and readers as to why I've been (mostly) silent in the blog world (and on Facebook as well).
Until next week (hopefully), I leave you with this nifty going into your weekend video, inspired by the t.v. show Unsung.
(c) 2015 BOOKS BY G.B. MILLER. All Rights Reserved.
October 13, 2015
Reality Is Concept #Whatever
So yeah, another holiday weekend has come and gone, and with it, 62 more pictures uploaded to my computer, 'cause you know, they gotta go somewhere.
Teenagers will often buy the strangest things (c'mon, 'fess up, you had the same brain waves too when you was a teen) for apparel, and sometimes they'll get their grandmamma to buy it for them.
This is one of those times. A funky giraffe sleeper thingy.
Um.....yah.
I went for a walk Saturday afternoon with my camera and took the bulk of my 62 photos that day. These are some kind purply flowers growing on the side of the road. I actually took about three pics and this is the best of them.
My journey took me through the dead zone...umm, the tunnel...umm, the closed off section of Mountain road. This is looking south towards the end. It was quite peaceful and pleasantly mild walking down the road. And fortunately, no bugs or trash to speak of either.
And this is looking back up the road from the concrete barrier. You can see that there really isn't much of anything in the way of debris. And yes, it was an exceptionally sunny road.
Additionally, the scenery in both this photograph and the one above is predominately featured in one of my slushie novels A Lascivious Limbo.
When I finished up my walk, I decided to take about a dozen photos of both Oreo The Sausage Dog and Tina Airplane Ears, our family Chihuahuas. I was dog sitting yet again (it's my basic weekend job during the summer camping season), so wanted to something different for a change.
Yes, I call Oreo a sausage dog since he's a bit larger than your average Chihuahua. Term of Bill's Endearment, you might say. As for Tina, I call her Airplane Ears because her ears are always horizontal at rest.
And this, my friends, is as close as you're gonna get to seeing what my face looks like, sans hair and beard. Actually, I had Jenelle shoot about half dozen pics for my FB page, since I really don't want people to know what I look like. And yes, I was very hot in that hoody that day. Temps were in the mid 70's for Columbus day.
(c) 2015 BOOKS BY G.B. MILLER. All Rights Reserved.
Randomness is a good thing, especially with photos on a blog. Enjoy!
This is one of those times. A funky giraffe sleeper thingy.
Um.....yah.
I went for a walk Saturday afternoon with my camera and took the bulk of my 62 photos that day. These are some kind purply flowers growing on the side of the road. I actually took about three pics and this is the best of them.
My journey took me through the dead zone...umm, the tunnel...umm, the closed off section of Mountain road. This is looking south towards the end. It was quite peaceful and pleasantly mild walking down the road. And fortunately, no bugs or trash to speak of either.
Additionally, the scenery in both this photograph and the one above is predominately featured in one of my slushie novels A Lascivious Limbo.
When I finished up my walk, I decided to take about a dozen photos of both Oreo The Sausage Dog and Tina Airplane Ears, our family Chihuahuas. I was dog sitting yet again (it's my basic weekend job during the summer camping season), so wanted to something different for a change.
Yes, I call Oreo a sausage dog since he's a bit larger than your average Chihuahua. Term of Bill's Endearment, you might say. As for Tina, I call her Airplane Ears because her ears are always horizontal at rest.
And this, my friends, is as close as you're gonna get to seeing what my face looks like, sans hair and beard. Actually, I had Jenelle shoot about half dozen pics for my FB page, since I really don't want people to know what I look like. And yes, I was very hot in that hoody that day. Temps were in the mid 70's for Columbus day.
(c) 2015 BOOKS BY G.B. MILLER. All Rights Reserved.
October 10, 2015
But I Don't Wanna Participate!
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's a rare Saturday post. Why? 'Cause I had a bald moment and clean forget that when it's IWSG week, I usually post thrice in a week. So, here is my belated thrice post, and unlike my personal pet peeve about title disconnect, this time the title actually connects for a 5,000 watt hit of electricity, which of course will make you smell what the G.B, is personally cooking.
Anywho.
I'm pretty anti-social when it comes to elevator travel. I get in, punch out the panel (seriously, the buttons gotta be 30 years old and work about as well as a Democrat with an empty wallet), go to my corner, close my eyes and wait to arrive at my destination.
And, if you can't get my meaning from me giving you the silent treatment on the elevator, you'll pretty much get it from the hostile body language being thrown in your direction.
In spite of all this fun, people still try to make me participate in casual conversations. Now, I'm not much of a conversationalist in elevators fro two simple reasons: my co-workers are 75% female, and my co-workers are 75% female. If you're a guy, put your mind in the gutter and you'll get that statement. If you're a gal, don't put your mind in the gutter, because you'll still get that statement with no further prodding from yours truly.
Now, I'm one of those people who mastered the fine art of hearing w/o listening. Which, in a nutshell, is like having lunchroom blather in your immediate area and not tuning into any part of the blather. Conversations go on in the elevator and I simply let it go in and out w/o stopping. Every once in a while, something wickedly stupid will be said, which in turn will make me tune in just to see what's the hub-bub.
Yesterday was a classic case in point. Traveling with several other women where the topic of choice was shoes:
Anywho.
I'm pretty anti-social when it comes to elevator travel. I get in, punch out the panel (seriously, the buttons gotta be 30 years old and work about as well as a Democrat with an empty wallet), go to my corner, close my eyes and wait to arrive at my destination.
And, if you can't get my meaning from me giving you the silent treatment on the elevator, you'll pretty much get it from the hostile body language being thrown in your direction.
In spite of all this fun, people still try to make me participate in casual conversations. Now, I'm not much of a conversationalist in elevators fro two simple reasons: my co-workers are 75% female, and my co-workers are 75% female. If you're a guy, put your mind in the gutter and you'll get that statement. If you're a gal, don't put your mind in the gutter, because you'll still get that statement with no further prodding from yours truly.
Now, I'm one of those people who mastered the fine art of hearing w/o listening. Which, in a nutshell, is like having lunchroom blather in your immediate area and not tuning into any part of the blather. Conversations go on in the elevator and I simply let it go in and out w/o stopping. Every once in a while, something wickedly stupid will be said, which in turn will make me tune in just to see what's the hub-bub.
Yesterday was a classic case in point. Traveling with several other women where the topic of choice was shoes:
October 7, 2015
IWSG #14: It's A Boxcar Plus Snake Eyes!
 |
| IWSG |
Or tweety bird, you decide.
In any event, here's the ever poplar tree opening for our monthly support group that doesn't feature either Dr. Bob Hartley or Lucy Van Pelt as the moderator (five cents please).
The first Wednesday of the month is set aside for insecure writers across the blog-o-sphere to share all of our individual experiences, the gud, the baaaaaad and the plug ugly.
The other day, or was it last month? No, I'm pretty sure it was the other day. The other day, I mentioned my insecurities about publishing my books on Kindle, in that I didn't want to inadvertently get sucked into exclusivity.
I'm happy to say that didn't happen, for my two books:
are now available for your Kindle. That's right, for those of you who relish the thought of buying everything on one wholesome (ha!) website, you can now pick up Kindle editions of my latest latest literary creations. Clicking on my Amazon page will take you right to them. Or, if you enjoy doing things the less easier way, you can plug the titles into the search bar.
So that, my friends, really isn't an insecurity for the month of October, now is it?
Hmmmmm.....what to do, what to do, what to do (yeah, way too much poppyseed culture floating in my head these days)? I got it! Wait, no I don't. I guess I don't have any insecurities for the month of October. Very strange indeed. But I will try my very best to make up for it next month! I promise!
Wait! There's more (more?)! Yes, for your amusement, here are the poppyseed culture references that were used as source material today.
1} The game of craps;
2} Mel Blanc;
3} The Bob Newhart Show;
4} Peanuts;
5} Robin Hood: Men In Tights;
6} This very strange song.
(c) 2015 BOOKS BY G.B. MILLER. All Rights Reserved.
October 4, 2015
I Are Agressive
There are two kinds of phone calls that one receives throughout one's busy day: calls from people you like (i.e. family & friends) and calls from people you don't like (everybody else). More often than not, I have a tendency to get the latter, be it on my personal phone or work phone.
Today's post is about a call featuring both phones.
When it comes to answering phone calls from people I don't like, my default phone manner is super aggressiveness, specifically, sugary-sweet to the point of making anyone with earshot desperately chew it back.
This past Thursday (10/1), I received a phone call from Ally, the super smart folks who handle my my perpetually late car payments. Now, I'm very used to getting phone calls and letters from them about my perpetually late car payments, and frankly, it doesn't bother me. I always abuse the grace period given because when you're functioning with one paycheck, you learn quickly to prioritize your bills.
Anyways, back to the phone call.
Today's post is about a call featuring both phones.
When it comes to answering phone calls from people I don't like, my default phone manner is super aggressiveness, specifically, sugary-sweet to the point of making anyone with earshot desperately chew it back.
This past Thursday (10/1), I received a phone call from Ally, the super smart folks who handle my my perpetually late car payments. Now, I'm very used to getting phone calls and letters from them about my perpetually late car payments, and frankly, it doesn't bother me. I always abuse the grace period given because when you're functioning with one paycheck, you learn quickly to prioritize your bills.
Anyways, back to the phone call.
October 1, 2015
Back Am I And Presents To Be Had By None I Not Bring!
Yeah, I know. My post titles are getting stranger and stranger. You know, after writing some 1500+ posts in 8 1/2 years, the first thing to really go is coherent post titles. Digging down into the dry well-water depths of originality, fervently hoping for something good, but ultimately pulling out seriously obscure poppyseed culture references is never a good thing.
Anywho.
I have returned to the blog world none the worst for wear and I do bring some tidings of good news. While I was away from the blog world, my MOBI files came through, and after some annoying fiddling around (having to add yet a 3rd financial account for my writings), I was able to upload this to the Kindle world of fun:
The good thing? Why, it's available for pre-order as we speak from Amazon. Get yours now before it goes on sale to the general public on October 7th.
The other good thing? It ain't enrolled in any of the KDP select programs that require me to yank it from Smashwords, so I does feel good about this. I was able to bypass that particular section none-the-worse for wear.
The bad thing? I belatedly realized about two hours after I had uploaded, that the wrong price was attached to it. So I had to wait for the first version to be approved before I could change the price, then had to re-submit for re-approval.
In other super-exciting news, I discovered what I can comfortably add to my story w/o suffering hand fatigue: roughly 475 words, give or take, per sitting. Which comes out to roughly a page and a half of typed text. In other really super-exciting news, I discovered how much I had really grown as a writer. I originally wrote this thing about seven years ago or so, and the scene that finishes chapter one (making out in the shower), went on for almost 4 pages.
Yes, four very long and tedious pages that read like a very bad porn script (I should save this and see I can rewrite for a submission to an adult movie company). So, this past Tuesday, I managed to take those four tedious pages and cut it down to exactly one and a half pages of readable text. So, as it was said in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, "Three cheers and a tiger for me, I have won!"
And finally, in really ultra super-exciting news, the eye surgery went remarkably well, in that the entire appointment lasted about 1 1/2 hours. The wife managed to walk me back to the car w/o a hitch, because I really didn't want open my eye any longer than necessary. And I spent a lovely Monday sitting in the backyard snoozing, which was momentarily marred when the wife scared the daylights out me by waking me up. If you recall previously, I discussed about residing in that between land while sleeping, when you become completely confused the moment you involuntarily wake up. Other than that, a good time was guaranteed for all.
And now, I'm back in the saddle again, so if I was you, I would do what the band in the video says:
(c) 2015 BOOKS BY G.B. MILLER. All Rights Reserved.
Anywho.
I have returned to the blog world none the worst for wear and I do bring some tidings of good news. While I was away from the blog world, my MOBI files came through, and after some annoying fiddling around (having to add yet a 3rd financial account for my writings), I was able to upload this to the Kindle world of fun:
The good thing? Why, it's available for pre-order as we speak from Amazon. Get yours now before it goes on sale to the general public on October 7th.
The other good thing? It ain't enrolled in any of the KDP select programs that require me to yank it from Smashwords, so I does feel good about this. I was able to bypass that particular section none-the-worse for wear.
The bad thing? I belatedly realized about two hours after I had uploaded, that the wrong price was attached to it. So I had to wait for the first version to be approved before I could change the price, then had to re-submit for re-approval.
In other super-exciting news, I discovered what I can comfortably add to my story w/o suffering hand fatigue: roughly 475 words, give or take, per sitting. Which comes out to roughly a page and a half of typed text. In other really super-exciting news, I discovered how much I had really grown as a writer. I originally wrote this thing about seven years ago or so, and the scene that finishes chapter one (making out in the shower), went on for almost 4 pages.
Yes, four very long and tedious pages that read like a very bad porn script (I should save this and see I can rewrite for a submission to an adult movie company). So, this past Tuesday, I managed to take those four tedious pages and cut it down to exactly one and a half pages of readable text. So, as it was said in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, "Three cheers and a tiger for me, I have won!"
And finally, in really ultra super-exciting news, the eye surgery went remarkably well, in that the entire appointment lasted about 1 1/2 hours. The wife managed to walk me back to the car w/o a hitch, because I really didn't want open my eye any longer than necessary. And I spent a lovely Monday sitting in the backyard snoozing, which was momentarily marred when the wife scared the daylights out me by waking me up. If you recall previously, I discussed about residing in that between land while sleeping, when you become completely confused the moment you involuntarily wake up. Other than that, a good time was guaranteed for all.
And now, I'm back in the saddle again, so if I was you, I would do what the band in the video says:
(c) 2015 BOOKS BY G.B. MILLER. All Rights Reserved.
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