Had to run a couple errands yesterday morning and then I had a nice take away lunch from my favorite diner. Wasn’t feeling overly ambitious in the afternoon but still got four pages done on the comic book script. I have to say it’s odd writing in script format and thinking about panels, visuals, and word balloons. As an exercise I think it’s valuable. Anything that kicks you out of your standard way of thinking is good once a while.

Not much to report on the Portal Wars Saga. Proofreads begin May 18. Once the manuscripts are done I’ll get started on paperback layouts then looking for an audiobook narrator.

Preorders on The Hidden Tower are up to 124 which is great. Thanks very much everyone.

Now, to make sure this post isn’t too short, I thought I’d include another of my grandfather’s stories. This one is from when he was just a kid, under ten, though I’m not sure much under.

One day when he finished his chores and didn’t have anything else to do, he found his sister splitting wood. He decided the thing to do would be to sneak up on her and make her jump. Well the sneaking up part went okay, but his timing sucked. The axe went back and clunked him right on the head, splitting his scalp and sending blood everywhere.

At this point my great aunt freaked out as did my grandfather. My great-grandfather came to check things out, took one look at my grandfather, gave him a rag to press to the cut, and went to hitch up the horses. They set out up the road to the doctor. Now this was on dirt roads in a horse and buggy. They weren’t exactly flying.

Around four miles up the road was another farm. My great-grandfather had been considering buying one of their milking cows and since it was around milking time he decided to stop and see how much milk the cow gave. He did this while in the process of taking his son to the doctor to get his head stitched up.

So picture this, My grandfather, let’s say eight years old, sitting alone in the wagon, blood-soaked rag pressed to his head, while his father is watching a cow get milked. Twenty minutes later Great-grandfather emerges from the barn and they get going. He mutters about the cow not being worth a damn and not another word is spoken until they reach the doctor’s. A doctor that also works on horses by the way. Grandpa gets stitched up, no painkiller, and they go back home where I’m sure he probably gets a spanking too.

This was in the 1920s. Happily parenting has improved a bit sense then. At least no one stops on the way to the doctors to watch a cow get milked.

Talk to you tomorrow.