Mortality & The Meaning of It All

Yesterday, I had to attend a funeral for my wife’s maternal grandmother. Now before there is a massive outpouring of sympathy, please consider that she was nine days away from being 94. 94. She witnessed the Great Depression, World War I, World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the first Iraq War, the second Iraq War, and the ongoing War on Terror. She lived through 18 different presidents. She had children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even great-great-grandchildren. That is really saying something.
So, sitting there in church, I could not help but think of my own mother who passed away in 2005. (Point of fact, that was the last time I had sat in a church as well.) The preacher that led the sermon spoke of Blanche’s departure from this world as a “home-going” and I really dug that. The music was very solemn and dignified and the type of service one would expect of a person of such advanced years. It was very quaint… and the exact opposite of what I want when I shuffle off this mortal coil.
I think it is completely natural to dwell on your own mortality after attending a funeral. (It is also custom for people to shag like rabbits after being reminded how life is finite. If you get down like that, it’s cool. Just have your lady call you “Ryan” once.)
So let me put it out there.
Now, we are going off the deep end here and I don’t need any phone calls or me put on any kind of monitoring that ends in the term “watch.” Stick with me as I take you on my logic roller coaster ride. All will be made clear…
I do not fear death. Of course, not fearing death and being ready to die are two very different things. I am by no means ready to check out. I still have too much that I want to do with my life, too many stories left untold and too many events unwitnessed. (There has to be an Angelina Jolie/Brad Pitt sex tape. There has to. He is too dreamy… Wait. I mean she…) Let’s move on.
There is a great mystery, a grand expanse that is beyond this mortal world. I look forward to walking with Him as we discuss the purpose of life and why things have evolved (or in some cases devolved) the way they have. I want to know why. And given His sense of humor, He might just shrug His shoulders and say, “Why not?”
I look forward to seeing my mother again. I look forward to meeting Granny Blanche as an immortal and eternally youthful soul. Can I meet Abraham Lincoln? Can I meet ancestors I never knew? And will the place prepared for me meet the expectations of my dreams? Will my collection of fully functioning lightsabers help me defeat the robot-mechanical dragon that keeps the Double-D swimsuit models trapped within the chocolate cave hidden behind the caramel waterfall?
I wonder…
I see death as the next stage in a great adventure. Which is why I do not want to have a funeral. I want to have a memorial service. I want my death to be a celebration of my life. I don’t want people decked out in black and wearing solemn attire. I want Hawaiian shirts. In truth (but probably not financially feasible), I want all my Pall Bearers dressed as either Shock Troopers or the 501st Clone Troopers. But it has to be one or the other. No mixing and matching. One group protected the Emperor and the other was Vader’s Fist. To combine them is ludicrous. And I want my casket to be wheeled out to the Imperial March theme…
I want boisterous music that represents me. I want those church speakers rockin’, son. I want lots of funny photos and laughter. Helium balloons and bunting may be too much but this is a celebration.
Can you play The Blind Boys of Alabama’s I Will Not Walk Alone? Certainly but juxtapose it with Sly & The Family Stone’s Dance to the Music or The Who’s The Seeker… “I won’t get to get what I’m after ‘til the day I die.” Hey, that’s got some meaning to it. I mean Amazing Grace is fine for most funerals but break out The Curse by Audioslave for mine.
I cannot believe that it is just darkness after we close our eyes. I cannot definitively say what lies for us afterwards. But I believe that everyone on this planet and everyone in history is a thread in an elaborate tapestry. And when I have served my purpose in this life and it is time for me to pass on… I am pretty cool with that.
The life that waits for us beyond this one is a great mystery and it is one that I look forward to solving. I can’t wait to pull the latex mask off the villain and have him say, “I’d a gotten away with it to if it wasn’t for you meddlin’ kids.”
But as I look down on my memorial service and I walk amongst you in spirit form, I want smiles. Surely goodness and mercy has followed me all the days of life and it is for that reason that I want joy and fond farewells. I want warm memories, mixed with gut busting laughter, and the occasional anguishing wails from people asking themselves, “Why didn’t I sleep with him?” Guys or girls. Either way. I don’t care.
But most importantly, the thing that I want people to say the most at my memorial service is, “Man, he sure owed me a lot of money…”Life is out there. Go live it…

New Year, New Decade, and I Am Determined to Improved…

Normally, this would the time that look back and reflect on the wonders and glory, the pits and the perils and the entire whole that was 2009. Normally… Unfortunately, 2009 was not exactly a stellar year for me. So I have decided not to rehash the old but instead embrace the new and the potential for hope that comes with a new year and a new decade.
So, I feel as if certain clarifications have to be made regarding my current status so you can see how I am forging ahead. And remember, kids, writing out your goals dramatically improves your chances for success.

First of all, New Year’s Resolutions. I have decided to quit smoking. I know millions of people make this resolution every year and fail. Quitting smoking is one of the hardest things you can do! But I am determined this year to make it stick.
When I have told this to my friends, most of them look at me skeptically and say things like, “Ryan, you never smoked. You can’t—” But then I usually cut them off by screaming at them and then I run away, arms flailing, before their negativity can drag me down.

Time to Finally Go Part Time: The boss of my department (who worked there for the last 15 years) ended his employment at my 9-to-5 rather abruptly at the end of the year. I have explained several times how I hate my job but I love the people. With a major people part of that equation now removed, it is now time to start thinking about my star player (i.e. Me). Which means it is finally time to start treating that job as a true part time thing and focusing more attention on my writing with hopes of turning it into a true full time job.
Truth be told, this was going to have to happen anyway. Amy now has her job rolling and it will be my job to attend to the kids this summer when school is out. So this means I will have to go to my bosses and say, “I can only work on weekends and if you work me during the week when school is out, I have to be out by noon at the latest.” When asked why, I just have to say, “I don’t want to explain to DHS why I left my six-year-old alone for nine hours.”
With this drop in income, I have to find a way to supplement that income. And for some reason, putting this sweet caboose out on the street corner has just not been generating the income it has in the past. I cannot imagine why. According to ABC, desperate housewives are supposed to be everywhere. I guess it is the economy. We are in a recession after all.
So, my attainable goal is to produce 10 graphic novels in 2010. I just turned in Draft 1 of TPB (trade paperback) #1 today and asked for permission to begin scripting TPB #2. So I am well on my way to obtaining that goal. (I have also been researching Egyptian and Norse myths to keep the idea train rolling. Insert your own Mummy joke here.) My hopes are that in 2010, my writing checks will finally exceed my part-time job checks. Again, given events that have transpired, I see this as completely doable.

Priorities, Priorties: To make the above listed goal happen, I really need to start prioritizing my life better. Which means I need to get on a strict schedule. I saw how the house degenerated during the Christmas holiday with the kids home and trapped inside because of the snow. Walkin’ around in a Winter Wonderland, my sweet Aunt Petunia!
I will not have the house degenerate this year! With Amy working and bring home the lion’s share of the income, I feel as if the house is on my shoulders. Which means I need to get on a regiment that allows me to manage the house, take care of the cooking, let’s me research and write, and still allow me to have fun playing my games.
So how does one accomplish this? By writing out my goals and delegating! Yep, time to get the kids involved. With ages of 13, 11, and 6, it is time for them to help shouldering the load. I believe the added responsibility will help all of them mature and will help me keep my sanity.
I will still do all the hard stuff but I do not see any reason not to get by with a little help from my friends… which in this case is family.

So from here we move forward into this new decade. And the house isn’t going to get clean and stories aren’t going to be written by mean diddling away on this blog. Back to the grindstone. Laundry stains prepare to face the terrible goodness of spandexed justice. And comic evil-doers, prepare to meet the wrath of my fabric softener! Wait… I may need to organize my plan of attack better….

Star Wars: In Concert

I know this blog is a tad late. Bear with me. So, back in October (on Amy’s birthday), we took the boys to attend Star Wars: In Concert. You can read about it by clicking the link. I say that we took the boys but this was just as much for me as it was for them. Before you send any hate mail asking why we didn’t take Lauren, it is because she is six and can’t stand the noise of a elementary basketball game, much less a concert…
If you know me, then you know how passionate I am about original music scores. I listen to them all the time when I am writing because I find lyrics distracting. And, well, you don’t get much better than the music from Star Wars.
This was my first trip to the brand new BOK Center. Extremely impressive, by the way. They had props from the films that you could see and take your picture with. It was a really cool event.
So, we had fifth row seats. (Yes, we spent way too much money on tickets.) And I was just a few dozen feet away from Anthony Daniels who played C-3PO in the movies. He was the narrator of the event.
The music was everything I expected it to be. The show was flawless. There was a massive orchestra with a full choir. Laser lights. Pyrotechnics that blasted us out of the seats. Everything was really cool.
I think the biggest pops where when they did footage of Vader and Yoda. Han Solo and Princess Leia got pretty resounding cheers.
Anthony Daniels was very funny and a wonderful storyteller. They had a recorded message from James Earl Jones (the voice of Darth Vader) to introduce him. Did I mention it was really cool?
We got Daniels and the conductor to come back out three times because of the standing ovation… and we got an encore of the Imperial Theme.
Now, admittedly, I am a pretty big geek. I don’t think that is a secret. But to be married to a person that embraces my geekiness and will go to a Star Wars concert with me is pretty special. And to have two boys that like Star Wars as much as I do, well that is just taking them down the right path in life.
It was truly a once-in-a-lifetime event and I could not be happier to be a part of it….

Rage As A Fuel

Imagine if you will two different scenarios, both involving Knights and Dragons. In the first scenario, a brave and valiant knight is charging into the lair of a dragon to rescue his princess who has been kidnapped and is being held hostage. In the second scenario, imagine the same knight charging into to fight the same dragon. Except his princess has not been captured… she has been killed.
Ask yourself. Who would you rather fight?
I would chose the first knight any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Because depending on the love of the princess, that second knight has nothing to lose and may even welcome death. That makes them a more difficult opponent because they take greater risks to win. That second knight will be hungrier than the first. He will not stop. Nor will he yield, relent or… ahhhh, only two synonyms? I’m losing my perspicacity!
As an alternative scenario, take if you will Darth Vader. Vader is one of the best bad guys in history and people might associate him with evil because he is a bad guy. It is not true. Vader is not evil. Vader is rage. He is someone that has been completely consumed by his rage.
If you want a more chickified version of it, there is a scene in Double Jeopardy where Ashley Judd is out running in the a prison yard in the rain and her two cellies look at her and one says something along the lines of, “That girl is running on pure hate.”
I think three examples are probably enough. Anyway, my dad often tells me that harboring hate is bad for the soul. It is something that can destroy you. And I think for the most part, in most instances, this can be true. But remember the knight from the first scenario? Rage can also be a fuel. It can keep you motivated and push you to limits you never thought possible.
The only drawback I can think of is that once you reach your destination, I have to often wonder how you feel with all of your energy spent. Now I know all the members of the Foley Nation are wondering. Perhaps you have come here by way of a certain Facebook posting. And I know what you must be thinking to yourself that I am the last person that should be writing about being a fountain of rage.
Obviously there has to be some event that facilitated this Lewis Black style tirade.
I have jockeyed and maneuvered myself into the absolute best position with my current 9-to-5 job. I have cut back to a part-time position to help shoulder the load of the house and the kids and allow me more productivity with my writing. Amy’s new job basically guarantees that her job takes priority and she has been after me to quit entirely.
However, I love my boss and I love 95% of the people I work with. Most of these people are in my Facebook friends and I genuinely like them. I am afraid of the psychological effects that may happen to me if I retreat into writing full time. Since my weekend poker game has fallen apart, this pretty much guarantees that I begin having only email relationships with people and I become crazy hermit guy with a better than average chance that I begin to perceive World of Warcraft as a reality.
Nobody wants that.
So, I should be enjoying my part time job. I should be using it as an outlet to get me out of the house and into the real world where I can have real life conversations with real life people. It should be ideal.
But my job has changed. The company that I work for has changed. They seem to have become obsessed with rules and regulations and writing employees up for infractions instead of being the “best place to work” as they like to say in their slogans. And one guy in particular is the problem.
He is an upper level management that I absolutely cannot stand. I literally loathe his very presence. He is condescending. He walks around as if he is high and mighty and better than the lowly employees that actually make the company function. I have no illusions that a nutless monkey could do my job but companies need to realize that good employees are hard to come by. And given the cavalcade of all-stars that I have outlasted should be an indication of just how valuable a good employee is. Yet all these new rules and regulations and this freakin’ c**ksucker has me tempted to throw away a five year relationship.
Granted, I may only see this prick a few handful of times a year but it is just that this jerkstore is in a position of management… it makes me frustrated that this is the type of manager that I have to deal with. If he is the representative of the company, this is clearly not a company that I want to work for…
So, I am at a crossroads. I could give it all up and risk a loss of income (such as it is) and insanity due to isolationism or I could gut it out just keep my head down and power through while loathing this individual with every fiber of my being but only suffer him a few handful of times a year. And if I continue to suffer this d-bag, I risk letting rage consume my soul. Is it worth it? Should I just bail out and call it a career? Why suffer fools for a part time paycheck? I make more money writing comic books anyway and I have NEVER had a bad day when I get to write my books. I don’t need an alarm clock when it is comic book writing day.
I was furious today. I mean shaking with rage. So I went to my boss and quit. I was going to be a man. I was not going to walk out. I said I would give him my two weeks. And the worst part of it, Dave completely understood why I was quitting. I was quitting because the system had failed me and I refused to let it bring me down.
But then I thought about my friends I would be leaving and the relationships I would be losing… and I unrang the bell. I am going to gut it out through the weekend, take full stock of my future and decide where to go from here.
Maybe I should just crack open a beer at the prep area while talking on my cellphone and smoking a cigarette. Surely, they would have to fire me. Have them make the decision for me, right? And for those that truly know me, I want you to think about that last statement. I just mentioned a possibility of me smoking. So I must be between a rock and a hard place.
Time will tell. It sure would be easier if I just hated the people I worked with….

Hey, I Actually Have Fans!

One of my first forays into writing was publishing fan fiction entertainment on the Internet. For those not in the know, that is where you take an established property and write a story about it, “publish” it for free on the Internet, and the copyright holders cannot come after for copyright infringements because you are not selling the story.
There are many fan pools out there. Star Wars, Star Trek, The X-Files, etc. But my bread and butter was Tomb Raider. So I wrote these little short stories and put them out there. The first time I got fan mail, I was giddy. I did not need fuel to keep me going as a writer. I am not saying that my success is dependant upon fans… But let’s say that it was like that octane booster that you put with a full tank of gas.
As a writer (or with any creative outlet), you never know how your work is going to be perceived. You can hope. You never want people to come back and say, “This totally sucks. You suck.”
But then when someone gives you a positive review, it is like justification. It makes me proud when people say that they like my stories. Like this blog article that my publishers emailed me today:

The Journal of the Lincoln Heights Literary Society Miscellanea and Ephemeron

And then there is the social network that exists within the World of Warcraft. I admit I am not the most social of players. I think a lot of this stems from the same reason I don’t sit down at a poker table despite being a poker player. I am afraid of making an etiquette mistake. And there are Level 80s rolling around in Azeroth. I don’t want to be that pesky little dog jumping around the big bulldog as it stomps down the sidewalk. I have my friends and I am always friendly and helpful when I can be, but I don’t have the social connections that my other friends do.
So a good friend of mine named Luke is on the game, doing some networking and running with some new players. One of these new players mentions that he works in a comic book shop. This prompts Luke to drop my name.
Believe it or not, the guy knows me!?!
He does not know me but he knows my work because of STOLEN HEARTS. The guy is a fan. Luke is going to prompt an in-game introduction for us. How cool is that? What a small world. I’m looking forward to saying hello to the guy and talking like a couple of comic geeks. I think that is a pretty cool story…

They Should Have Called it “Cocaine” Instead of “Lich King”

As a community, I have heard several beliefs that pain is something that can be lessened when it is a shared experience. It is kind of like seeing a terrible car accident or a morbidly obese man in overalls… wearing leopard spotted underwear… that’s a thong.
The only way to ease the pain of your soul is to trick someone else into seeing it. Then that pain that you experienced is divided amongst two people. So you now only have to suffer 50% of the total pain. Get a third person to see it and only have to experience… Wait. Carry the one… denominator. 25% I think. Look I’m not a math major, okay?
So, when you have a terribly crippling addiction, you might say that you should contain it and refuse to let it spread. You should just take that addiction and hide it from the world. That is one option… The other direction you can go is to spread your addiction around to other people. And then everyone can become as consumed with the same addiction. Then some people can go much more overboard than you and you can look at that person and say, “Hey, at least I’m not that guy.”
Yes, kids, it’s gotten that bad. You see the World of Warcraft addiction continues to slowly seep away at my soul. I am not going to say that it is completely out of hand because I do still work, sleep, eat properly (if you can call my diet “proper”), and function within the communally acceptable parameters of society.
I am not certain but I think it is time for a support group. The only problem is that I am not certain if there is a building large enough to hold 11.5 million people.
So what have I done, like a drug dealer, I go around at my work and recruit players. I tell ‘em to go on the Internet and just try the ten-day free trial. See, you give them the first hit for free to get them hooked. F**king Blizzard Entertainment. Crack Dealers! That’s what they should be called!
See Luke pulled in Dave and myself. Then as a trio we pulled in James and Kasondra and now Heath. Then we found out Brad played. Then James got Shannon playing. And one by one we continue to draw in more and more players into our own personal Well of Souls. So for all the people reading this blog, I just have one question… Want to learn what The Empyrean Fury is? Shoot me a message. Remember: The power of the Fury is the group and the power of the group is the Fury…

Listening to the Ebb and Flow of the Universe

One of the heroes of the X-Men in Marvel Comics is a genetically engineered warrior named Longshot. One of Longshot’s powers was the ability known as psychometrics. In the occult world, this is where a person can “read” the history of an object by touching it.
I think there are a few fictional stories where psychics have ascertained the identity of a killer by touching the knife used to stab his victims. In the filming of FOX’s television show PRISON BREAK, character Lincoln Burrow’s prison cell was the same real life cell occupied by noted American serial killer John Wayne Gacy. Some cast and crewmembers refused to enter the cell because of the energy within it.
And I do believe that certain objects can possess energies. Most can be associated negatively. But if there are situations with negative associations then there has to be situations with positive associations. There has to be.
I bring all of this up because I have been entrusted with a sacred duty. You see, today, I was passed the ashes of my mother.
Following her death, I did not see her body. I was given the opportunity but I refused. What I told myself is that it was simply an empty shell now. What was my mother was spirited off to a better place.
What I was handed today was a heavy urn with her ashes inside, carefully placed within a plastic bag. Yet, when I touch it, I can feel a certain energy. Perhaps it is something completely within my own mind. In theory, if this were to truly work, anyone who touches this urn should feel something. Unless one wants to argue that certain energy fields are perceptible to certain people. But that takes us down a whole other road. Maybe this is all in my head…
But what I do know is that within that urn are her last remains, the last evidence that she was physically in this world. And there was a sensation that ran through me when I held the urn for the first time. It was a sadness to be certain but not a sorrowful “I’m going to start crying” sadness.
It is her. But it is not her. It is. But it isn’t.
It’s weird. Even after all this time. It is weird.
I think the strangest things can spawn memories and feelings. I certainly did not think that when I woke up this morning, I would be writing a blog about my mom’s ashes. But that is life sometimes. Sometimes you have to allow yourself to become attuned to the energies that surround us. Maybe they can give you a link to your past. You just have to be ready to find those energies… and sometimes they pop up in times and places you don’t expect. Now, I’m not looking for existentialism through a haze of bong smoke or anything. It was a profound enough moment for me to feel like I needed to talk about it here… So it was pretty strange and special at the same time, and that is what this blog is all about…

The Fabric of Humanity

My dad is probably one of the most well read men that I have ever met. I would be scared to see what his Amazon.com bill is for a month or how chummy he is with his local librarians. Everyone has his or her own vices and his addiction to books is clearly in no way a hindrance.
I have been very fortunate in using my gifts to transfer over from the role of “Writer” to “Author.” And one of the things that fascinate me the most as a writer is perspective. I absolutely love the whole tale of perspective.
No army has ever marched forth into battle thinking God wasn’t on their side.
No army has ever marched forth into battle thinking they were the bad guys.
That is a pretty powerful thing to think about. Imagine being able to see stories from both sides. And that is what makes a really believable villain. Whether that villain is Darth Vader, General Francis X. Hummell, or Magneto, if you can see their point of view (what we call POV in comic book industry shorthand), you can understand their character. You can understand why they do what they do. You may not condone what they do but you can understand why they are doing what they are doing.
To the casual observer, you see a money-grubbing girl that refuses to date poor people. You immediately dismiss her as a gold digger. Well, I’m not saying she’s a gold digger but she ain’t messin’ with no broke nig— Wait. Did I just quote Kanye West? Let’s move on…
But if you take some time, you might learn this girl’s history. Then you find out that her family is gone. They have left her with nothing. Moreover, her financial dire straits have caused her to lose custody of her little girl—the only thing that ever brought her happiness. And with little education, she is looking for someone that can help support her and help make sure that she does not spiral down into darkness…
Now you may not approve of her using her feminine wiles (translation: big boobs) to try to find financial security but you can understand where she is coming from. And after you have walked a mile in her shoes, you understand why she is the way she is. So it is a thing where you can say, “I don’t trust Melanie but I can trust Melanie to be Melanie.” You can understand a person’s mindset and why they do what they do.
(Strangely, the alternative to this is the absolute crazy person like The Joker or Hannibal Lecter. They are so crazy that their motives cannot be predicted and that makes them incredibly frightening.)
It is my job to write a character that is three-dimensional and real. I don’t want mindless drone villains. I want to write believable characters. (This is why I love the Marvel Comics villains.) And in order to do this, I have to be an amateur psychologist. But I am in no way qualified for such diagnosis.
So I consider myself a “Studier of the Human Condition.”
And this line of thinking has often led me to certain epiphanies. I search for certain universal truths (believe me, that is a topic for another blog). And so here is my dad doing all of his reading and he likes to send me snippets of wisdom from his books. The last quote he sent was from Scott Turow’s Personal Injuries and it gave me pause.

From the quote, the author was talking about the pain that people feel in their hearts. I’m chopping the quote for length but this is the gist of it:

“Everybody’s got this hurt. Everybody has it somewhere in their heart. And I knew that I’d never really get away from it, and neither would anyone else. And life bears that out. It’s being poor, or being alone, or being sick, it’s not being loved enough or not loving the way you want to, it’s feeling you are a doormat to the world, or a mean crud, or just not quite as good as the people you want to be like or be with. But it’s always something, and it devouring, for most people, this parasite always eating a hole in their hearts.
“And I wondered and wondered why. Why did God make a world where everybody’s heart is in pain? I figured that out. The answer. You know why it’s like that? So we need each other. So we stick with each other, do for each other, and build up the world. Because misery does love company, and another soul’s comfort is the only balm for the wounds.
“And how would you say it? How do they put it in the Bible? ‘The shadow of God came over him.’”

The eternal question that is often lamented (typically from the gutter by people down on their luck) is “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Given my current life situation, I often look up and wonder, “Why do good things happen to bad people?”
But you find a little nugget of wisdom like this every once in a while and often feel compelled to pass it on… Maybe you learn something…

Past Events Influencing Our Future Choices

I often look at the aspect of nature and nurture and how it affects our lives. I am fairly certain that I have discussed this before in this blog how my mom was a smoker and my dad is a drinker, yet I am neither. Okay, the latter is because I have the bladder of a woman that is nine-months pregnant. I am not against drinking. It is just that my body cannot handle it anymore. Smoking is a completely different story.
My dad took jobs all his life that took him where the money was. New Jersey. California. Oklahoma. Indiana. North Carolina. And then back to Oklahoma. I often wonder if subconsciously I did not like moving around and this is why I have pretty much cemented myself in Oklahoma. I really like Oklahoma. It could just be that I really found my right area. However, long before I had kids and it was just me, people told me to move to La Jolla, California (home of Wildstorm) or Manhattan (home of Marvel Comics) to try to get a job with a comic company but being on-site an making face-to-face inquiries.
Thankfully, my career path is one interwoven with the Internet and I can email my comic scripts to my publishers. Which means I can live in the comparatively low cost of living state of Oklahoma and do more than just survive on meager comic book writer pay.
Still, debt has crippled my family. I have often said, “Imagine how far your paycheck would go if you didn’t owe anything to anyone.” Granted, that lifestyle is impossible to live. You are going to owe the water company and your cell phone bill. But sometimes life shoves you in directions that you don’t want and all you can do is hang on for dear life as you plunge down the rapids, knowing that tranquil streams are just past the whitewater.
Amy and I are plunging through the rapids right now. She is working nights for an agency and often I am leaving for my 9-to-5 when she is heading home from work. During the 4th of July holiday, it seemed like we only saw each other for an hour or two a day. I sleep when she is at work and vice versa. It takes a little getting used to.
But I have to stay focused on that end goal. That goal is to be out from underneath the credits cards and hopefully have my car paid off. If we can do that, then our only bill is Amy’s car payment. Now, suddenly, Amy is making more money than we ever have had and I am rolling along doing comic book scripts where I get paid infrequently but when I do get paid it is a fat check. And the ultimate kicker… we don’t owe anyone.
Yeah. Imagine. We are making the most money ever (for us) and we owe so little that we can actually start saving money. We can have a savings account! And we can start planning to build our first home.
It is important to have goals, kids. You have to set a goal. It gives you a finish line. It gives you something to look forward to and work towards. And when you reach that goal… it’s a pretty cool thing.

Just When I Thought I Was Out…

Some of you may recognize the quote in the title. It goes: “Just when I thought I was out… they pull me back in.” Yes, it’s from The Godfather. Now before I begin, as with most of my statements, I need a little preamble. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t do drugs. And I thank the powers above everyday that I do not understand the concept of addiction. What I have is not exactly an addiction because I do not go through physical withdraws or anything. But I am an action figure collector. That’s right. I collect action figures.
Now, I know I am opening up all sorts of problems by admitting this on a public forum like the Internet. For the thousands in attendance and millions reading at home, a shiver has gone through the crowd. All around the world, females are removing panties and other unmentionable unmentionables because nothing does it for the ladies like a balding overweight man that writes comic books. But a balding overweight man that writes comic books AND collects action figures? Yeah, I have to walk around in disguises. I can barely go to my local Wal-Mart any more. And if I do, I have to go at 3:00 in the morning…
My addiction goes back to the release of the Spawn action figure line, which I collected for several years. Budgetary cutbacks caused me to stop for a little while, then the Masters of the Universe line came out. When that line ended, I switched over to Marvel Legends and my marriage almost disseminated to divorce status. Still, my desk is totally bitchin’ with all my figures ranging from the Avengers’ Mansion to my Iron Man Armory to my Sinister Six Laboratory…
See I commit action figure sacrilege and taken them out of the cases. Then they are displayed around my desk in wicked awesome displays that are very cool to look at as I write my comic book scripts.
But we are in a recession after all. Prices are going up and the cost of oil skyrocketed. Well, action figures are made of plastic. Plastic is made from oil. I think you see the connection. So the company producing Marvel Legends basically cancelled the line and went to Marvel Universe – which are action figures on a 3¾” scale as opposed to the 6” figure… and I was not about to start over.
So, with a heavy heart, I called it quits. No more. The Marvel Legends collection was finished. Still tremendously impressive but finished. And I think my wife secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
But then the itch started. The craving set in. And… just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in. Yeah. They make World of Warcraft action figures. DAMMIT! I keep thinking Amy is going to stop by the courthouse on her way home from work to file the divorce papers. Still, as far as addictions go, it is certainly not the most expensive in the world. I’d write more but I am working on this cool display for my Draenei paladin… Well and I have to reinforce the front door to keep out the relentless legions of ladies that all want to get a piece of this action. If I tell them that I’ve got my Paladin to Level 46 and I’m rocking the Vanquisher’s Sword with Fiery Weapon enchantment does it make it better or worse? They are in a frenzy right now. Probably should keep that a secret…