A Winter's Tale and a Happy New Year

Just a brief post this time, since I'm allegedly busy working on all sorts of stuff. But I wanted to let you know that my short story, "The Ambiguities," is featured this week on the excellent podcast site, Tales to Terrify. If you're reading this after the week it's been posted, the site has an extensive and rewarding archive. As usual, they have done a beautiful job with the reading and presentation. I can't ask for more.

Well, maybe I can ask for more. This story, and the novelette "Surfaces" that Tales to Terrify featured on another podcast a while back, are available in a Kindle e-book, Surfaces . . . and Symbols, available here.

"The Ambiguities" works for this time of year. It's set in the winter, during a snowstorm, and the narrator is trying to make a flight to California. Her local airport in Madison is closed. The airport in Milwaukee is closed. She gets on a Greyhound to head down to O'Hare, and that's where things get interesting. I'm looking out the window now and the snow is falling. The temperature is dropping. What better time to listen to (or read) a tale of peril set out on the linear wasteland of I-94?

I'm a lousy salesman. This year, with three mini e-books out, I have managed to make just under ten dollars, which is to say I am not about to become the Charles Foster Kane of e-publishing. So be it. I know that, in this Brave New World, all us writers are supposed to become salespeople and marketing whizzes and two-faced, glad-handing self promoters. 

If I were that good at those tasks, I probably wouldn't be writing.

Let's put it this way: I am one of those persons for whom it is hard enough simply to be a good writer. I'll be happy to settle for that, if I can.

A new year will be starting soon. I wish you all the best. 2013 has been an interesting year for me. It's had its moments, though I can't say I'll be sorry to see it go. I have novel to finish, a couple of novellas and a couple of short stories. And if I can sell 'em in 2014 I'll be a lot merrier a year from now than I am now.

In spite of my grumping, I remain hopeful. The beautiful thing about hope is that it doesn't cost a dime. It's all that other junk that's expensive. Hope is about the only thing left I can afford.

May the new year ambush us with joy and amaze us with sympathy.