I noticed that it’s been a very long time since I wrote an article about New York history. I need to rectify that.
I have a few ideas:
The Hamilton-Burr Feud
Washington’s New York Obsession
The Battle of Long Island
Fernando Wood
George Washington Matsell
The Battle of Stony Point
The Capture and Death of John Andre
Anyone have a preference?
Okay, I finally did it. I signed The Watchmage of Old New York up for Kindle Select. It’s only a 3 month contract, but I had to pull the book off of every other site.
I did this because almost all of my sales come from Amazon anyway. I’ve never bought an ebook elsewhere. I doubt that most people have. I’m doubling down on their hold on the industry.
The bright side is that I can now have special promotions, even Free giveaways. I also believe that Amazon pushes its KS books harder than other ones. We’ll see. The sequel to “Watchmage” is coming out this spring. If this works out, I’ll put that on there too.
I’ll keep you posted on any sales improvements. Honestly, I’m not expecting much, but you never know. Because it’s in a niche between fantasy and history, it doesn’t attract much attention. Few people are interested in pre-Civil War New York City, and those that are don’t care for wizards and faeries.
Yesterday I did something that I never expected to have to do. I cut loose someone very important to me. I won’t go into details, but it’s been an act that I’ve been musing on for some time.
That time doesn’t make it easier.
We make decisions everyday that change our lives. We constantly face crossroads, deals with the devil and appeals to our better nature. The worst part is that you rarely know that you’re there at the time. It’s not until later where you realize “hey, turning left instead of right sent me far from where I meant to go. This is not my beautiful house. This is not my beautiful wife. How did I get here?” Or “turning left was one of the best decisions that I ever made.”
And some decisions are harder than others. Some of them you know will change your life. Some of them are failures. Sometimes the decision is not turning at all, but letting fear and indecisiveness freeze you in place. Every action has a consequence, and not choosing is still a choice. I avoided choosing for a long time, but I finally did it.
We’ll see if I chose the right path. Right now I just feel hollow. Not good or bad. More like an emptiness. I feel spent. The choice took all of my spoons.
But I’d probably do it again. Part of being an adult is doing what has to be done.
Being an adult is hard.
In honor of the 5th anniversary of my fiance’s death, her collected works is now available for FREE for 5 days. Val was an extraordinary writer, the best that I’ve ever known. Please share in her work and my love by picking up her story collection.
One day a forgetful farmer forgot to bring his bucket of milk back in before bed. Overnight, two frogs landed in the bucket and couldn’t get out.
The first frog said “We’re doomed! Oh, death by dairy, a disgusting demise.”
The second frog said. “You presume our passing. If we persist, we will pull ourselves out.”
First Frog: Don’t placate me. I can’t persist in persisting. Such persistence is puddingheaded.”
I used to drive for a limo service. It wasn’t a bad job: I picked the client up, drove him to the airport, waited patiently for the tip that never came, and drove back to the office wondering why I always expected a tip. Driving in New York and New Jersey? Sure, it sucks, but most jobs do. But I met a lot of interesting and even famous people…if by meant you mean them staring at my head for an hour or so, depending on traffic. Everything in the area depends on the traffic. And that’s where our story begins…
I feel like I should be writing something deep and profound to start off the new year. My brain will not respond. How about something…um…confound? Starting with the word confound. It is neither profound nor proper grammar
Why doesn’t Santa uses chimneys anymore?
He has Claus-trophobia.
I remember.
I was a child, later an adult. Every holiday we gathered at my aunt’s house, taking in the scent of all the delicious Gramma food in the kitchen: chicken or turkey, kugel, chopped stringbeans, matzoh ball soup, all a beautiful blend of tradition that made me remember the Old Country that I never knew.
My Old Country is the Bronx. That’s all I have. No shtetls, no pogroms, no Holocaust. I only heard of those from my Gramma, and thank goodness I never had to live through them.
And we had music.
Funnier image:
William Faulkner trying to tweet using only 140 characters
or
Oscar Wilde and Walt Whitman sexting
Discuss!
Psst…Hey…Check out my historical fantasy, The Watchmage of Old New York. It’s only 99 cents for the holiday season, and available in paperback too! Books make great gifts, and ebooks are great (cyber) stocking stuffers.
Once there was a terrible winter, with terrible cold, terrible snow, and a terrible lack of hot chocolate (with tiny marshmallows). The insects in the Woodly Woods barely survived, except for the ants, who had foresight and hid away enough food to survive the terrible cold, terrible snow, and terrible lack of hot chocolate (with tiny marshmallows).
Come Spring, Alexandra Ant, the leader of the ants, realized that the ants must help their fellow insects. They set up a great insect convocation. The beetles were there. The stinkbugs were there. All of the bugs were there.
casandersdotnet 