Someone isn't enjoying the big game. In fact he thinks he's being neglected.
I’m a bachelor again this weekend. I figured once the kids moved to Boise, my wife wouldn’t be travelling to Nevada quite so much. I figured wrong.
My daughter-in-law is taking the grandkids south to visit my son. He’s working, and won’t return to Boise for a week or two. My wife decided to go with them, and watch the big game with her brother.
That leaves me to my own devices. I have a beta reading project that I’m nearly finished with. This requires some writing to send off my notes. I got a bunch of invites to host and visit other bloggers. Some of them have already delivered some fantastic stuff. I still have to write my posts, and any intros that accompany their posts.
I have an appointment for my daughter to cut my hair tomorrow. I don’t usually have to pay her to spend time with me, but I really don’t mind. She’s doing a fantastic job, and I want to support her.
I need to work on my novel to some degree. I concede that the middle is slower going, but I need to get some mileage on it. I have some decent plans, and have to move the characters toward each other now.
I have to write my normal blogs, in addition to anything I’m cross posting with other writers.
With this in mind, I’m considering not even watching the Superbowl. I know for a red blooded American male, that’s blasphemy. I just don’t care that much about the game. I’m not invested in either team.
I suppose I could do like half the world, and watch the broadcast to see the advertisements. There isn’t much value to that either. I already know Carl’s Jr. is going to use boobs to market hamburgers. I think my Lisa Burton graphic proves I already know that lesson, as evidenced by my blog invitations.
Then my wife went and made me a salami and cheese platter. She didn’t want me to watch the game without snacks. She even bought me some outstanding beer to keep me company. (She loves me.) I’ll work my fingers raw, but come Sunday afternoon, the old pit bull and I are watching the game.
What are your writing plans? Do you have any marketing plans? Who’s watching the game, and are you invested in the outcome?
We haven’t had an Idea Mill post in quite a while. I save interesting articles that sparked my imagination, then I post the links for everyone. I’ll add a bit about where my mind takes me, and you can add ideas in the comments.
The first one is about the plant, wolfsbane. In this article, a gardener handled the plant, and died from the exposure. This looks like an awesome possibility for a cozy mystery. I don’t particularly believe the story, but it would make an interesting witchcraft story too. Miss Marples could have a lot of fun here.
This article discusses secret military bases, and the conspiratorial projects they might be working on. There seems to be no end to conspiracy theories, but a story can be so much better if it’s based upon one that’s popular. There is a wealth of possibility here. If testing biological weapons on the citizens of San Francisco doesn’t have a story in it, nothing does.
This story is about a dog. Who doesn’t like a dog story? Essentially, this adorable pit bull was dog napped. The good people in Massachusets identified him from a microchip and returned him to his owner. The cool part is that the dog made a trek from Florida to Salem. Of all places on Earth, the dog went to Salem. With its history of witchcraft, there has to be a story in there somewhere.
Take one, or more, of these articles and ask yourself “what if.” What if a secret military installation was creating a biological weapon using wolfsbane? What if an intern found out, but instead of blowing the whistle, she sent her familiar to Salem to recruit help from more powerful family members?
Can you find your next story in these articles? Tell me about it in the comments.
When the old Pit Bull arrived, he was unwanted. I already had two dogs, and didn’t relish a third one underfoot.
He was a street puppy my oldest son brought home to his new apartment. He said this skinny pup came around the shop, begging for anything to eat. He fed him frozen burritos for a week before he took him home.
Our son soon moved back in with Mom & Dad, and we had a new dog. When our son moved back out, he couldn’t take the dog. It’s a fairly common tale, but this one happened to me.
The dog doesn’t tolerate other male dogs. Both of mine were female, and they formed quite the little pack. One old Basset, an English Setter, and this Pit Bull from the street.
One at a time, the girls moved on. The old Setter passed away last fall. Now the pit bull is like an old man. He’s lonely, and seems to spend most of his time remembering his glory days.
He’s still a pest for fun, and is right there when I get home from work. Just in case there’s something important we need to do.
I catch glimpses of his habits though. Every day he’s at the front door at 3:00. This is the time when kids come home from school. We haven’t had a kid in school for several years, but he always has hope that someone will show up and pet him.