Tag Archives: writing

The Illiad Rebooted – About the Authors/Project

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About the Authors

Homer

Long before Cher, Sting, or Sia, there was Homer, the first artist to rock the “I only have one name” style. Scholars disagree on when exactly this accomplished scribe was born, but best guesses put his life somewhere between 800-700 B.C. (That’s eight hundred years before Christ and therefore a long ass time ago.)

Homer is the author of two bestsellers:

  • The Illiad – a chronicle of the siege of Troy, which began as a result of a dispute between Greek and Trojan forces over which one of their leaders had the best claim to the cooter belonging to the Grecian beauty Helen, first of Sparta and later of Troy, or simply “Helen of Troy” as she is typically remembered.
  • The Odyssey – the story of the warrior Odysseus’ adventure filled journey from Troy back to his home in Ithaca after the conclusion of the Trojan War.  During this voyage, Odysseus encounters nymphs, cannibals, and monsters until he finally arrives home and gruesomely murders all the dudes hanging around his house attempting to get all up in his wife’s lady business because they assume he was killed by Trojans and thus his wife’s snootch is up for grabs.

Nope. No lie here. That’s totally what this is about and your English teacher was a total perv for assigning it to you all those years ago. Then again, you would have known that if you had read it but you didn’t and FYI your parents were only being nice when they told you “a C minus is better than nothing, dear.” In truth, they were very, very disappointed in you and still are to this very day.

Bookshelf Q. Battler

Bookshelf Q. Battler (or BQB) was born in the late 1970s as God’s response to the terrible malaise that President Jimmy Carter warned was encompassing the nation.  Mr. Battler popped out of his mother’s womb, surprised hospital staff by shouting, “Cheer up, muttafuckas!” then never spoke another word until 1984 when he felt the need to praise the original Terminator film.

Though by all accounts, Mr. Battler was the dopest of all late 1970s babies, he didn’t fully shine until he became the proprietor of a blog with 3.5 readers in 2014.

If you would like to be one of Mr. Battler’s 3.5 readers, you are more than welcome to visit. BQB’s blog, “Bookshelf Battle” can be found at bookshelfbattle.com

There you will find a chronicle of Mr. Battler’s life and times as a world renowned poindexter, epic nerdventurer, reviewer of pop cultural happenings, champion yeti fighter and magic bookshelf caretaker.

Mr. Battler does not like to brag but he maintains that he is more accomplished than Homer. While Homer may have written two bestsellers that were drawing in readers long before Jesus was born, Mr. Battler’s blog does steadily attract the attention of 3.5 readers, which is no small feat in this day and age where every schmuck in the universe has their own blog. In fact, in the time it took you to read this one paragraph, an estimated 5,298 blogs were just started and most of them are terrible.

About this Project

Believing it to be “total bullshit” that Homer never saw dime one of the sweet, sticky cash produced by the thousands and thousands (possibly even millions) of high school and college English students who have been forced to purchase copies of The Illiad and pretend that they knew what the hell was going on during class over the years, Mr. Battler has taken it upon himself to reboot one of the most lauded books in Western history for fun and profit (mostly profit.)

To that end, Mr. Battler dispatched his trusty little green sidekick, Alien Jones, to locate Homer’s tomb and resurrect him using top secret, highly classified alien technology. An agreement with the U.S. government prevents Mr. Battler from publicly sharing the specifics of this technology, but rumor has it that it involves ground cumin, a swizzle stick that can be found at any reputable coffee shop, and 9,000,000 AA batteries held together with duct tape, super glue, and most importantly, love.

Initially, Homer had some difficulty adjusting to the modern world. However, due to his scholarly nature, he was quickly able to learn and adapt, though duck face selfies, social media posts about what people eat for lunch and the continued existence of Kristen Stewart’s acting career baffle him to no end.

Mr. Battler and Homer met regularly throughout late 2016 into early 2017 to reboot Homer’s Illiad. Homer was reluctant at first, but once Mr. Battler plopped down a fifty dollar signing bonus, Homer wasn’t able to refuse.

Oh and FYI if you happen to see Homer walking down the strip, you need to do Mr. Battler a solid and pretend like fifty bucks is an astounding, life altering amount of money.

Mr. Battler thanks you in advance.

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State of the Bookshelf – BQB’s Plans for the Fall

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BQB is beloved by his 3.5 readers – like this guy. Also, Aunt Gertie and 1 and 1/2 of a person in Albuquerque.

Happy Fall, 3.5 readers.

So here’s where my mind is at.

I’m going to use this Fall to:

A) Get super buff.  Gotta get my exercise on. Get my eating right on. Drop a few lbs to improve my health so I can live long enough to entertain my 3.5 readers far into the future. Plus, Video Game Rack Fighter keeps her shit hella tight so its only fair I reciprocate before she drops me like a hot potato for a studlier nerd.

B) Write a new novel, “The Illiad Rebooted.” That’s right. Alien Jones has resurrected Ancient Greek Poet Homer and together we are going to reboot the shit out of the Illiad for fun and profit.  Mostly profit.  Actually, mostly fun. I can’t imagine there will be much profit.

I’m going to bang out this draft by Dec. 31, spend the first few months of next year getting it rewritten, edited, and self-published, then devote the rest of next year to rewriting, editing and self-publishing How the West Was Zombed.

This may be a dumb idea but I’m getting restless and feel the need to move on to something and then I’ll be able to come back to Zombed with a fresh mind.

I worry as this has been my downfall in the past  – I start novels, then go on to other novels, but I think it will be ok because I’m more determined than ever to get a novel out.

This is all subject to change of course but as of today, this is where I am.

I like to fantasize about renting my own office, starting my own profitable self-publishing business, earning boku cash and most importantly, laughing heartily at friends, family, and assorted dummies who told me I’d never amount to anything and have thus far proven themselves to be psychic.

“No, dummies!” I will say. “You were not psychic. You just did not look far ahead enough into the future – a future where I have purchased a mansion in Malibu with my self-publishing money and have wild hot babe infested parties every weekend.”

It is important to remain humble and to keep your dreams realistic, 3.5 readers. It really is.

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I Regret Not Starting a Blog Earlier

1371251154I have to say, since I started this blog in 2014, it has been one of few activities I have participated in where the more I work at it, the more I get out of it.

Every week I get more followers.  Those followers stack up over time.  I still don’t get as many views and/or visitors as I’d like, though those figures have increased each year though, leaving me hopeful that they’ll actually reach a high point.

Keeping my fingers crossed.

I don’t recall when I first heard of the term “blogging.”

Had to have been somewhere in the mid-2000s.

It just seemed dumb.

I figured that publications that had a large print following would essentially use their money to take over online.

And to an extent they did but I never realized what opportunities there were for writers to go it alone.

Ergo, I often wonder had I got into blogging say, a decade ago, perhaps I’d have 300,500 readers instead of 3.5 readers.

Oh well.  “If I could turn back time” as Cher has been known to sing in her leather underpants.

Honestly though, and there are more seasoned experts who can correct me but, I’m not sure any of this really became that viable until social media came about, allowing bloggers to post links to their blogs using hashtags of subjects they are interested in or that their posts pertain to.

I hate to admit it because unfortunately I’m one of those people who feels the need to view myself as having the biggest brain in the room, but I never really imagined that social media was going to turn into anything important when it came out.

“Huh” I thought when I first got onto Facebook.  A site that lets everyone discuss their thoughts…and everyone I know has very dumb thoughts…and they all insist on sharing them 24/7.

“I picked my nose!”  #nosecandy

“I ate a tuna fish sandwich for lunch!” #straightuptunason

“My political views are ultimately superior to yours, moron!” #politickinglikeamofo

Long story short, I didn’t get into any of this until 2014.

Would that I could take Doc’s DeLorean to say, I dunno, 2006?  That’s the year Twitter started.  And when YouTube started I believe.  Had I been up to this for ten years I like to think I’d actually be somewhere that involves getting paid for blogging but…oh well, then again, I don’t like to think about things I can’t change.

Don’t even get me started on YouTube.  Being able to buy everything you need to start your own web show at Best Buy?

Sorry, I dated myself.  Being able to buy everything you need to start your own web show on Amazon?

(You whippersnappers still use Amazon, right? )

In summation, budding young artists, creatives, writers, actors, comedians, singers, musicians or what have you literally have no idea, no idea whatsoever how lucky they have it to have all this technology at their fingertips.

Build your audience, 3.5 readers.  Because when I was your age, if you wanted to make it in a creative field, you had to walk twenty miles up a hill just to kiss the ass of the guy who knows the guy who knows a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy whose cousin’s sister’s uncle’s cousin’s neighbor’s boyfriend’s cat trainer’s donkey pharmacist might, just might know a guy who could introduce you to the guy whose ass you need to kiss just to get an interview with the guy who might be able to help you get your foot in the door.

That’s a whole lot of ass kissing.  A proud man like me just isn’t down for it.

Enjoy the new world, 3.5.  There’s never been a better time to be a creative person.

Except for maybe the Renaissance.  If you lived in Europe you were able to paint pictures of chubby chicks…but even then only 3.5 people ever saw those paintings.

Whoa. I’ve come full circle.

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A Note on Helen of Troy: History’s Hottest Chick

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Hey 3.5 readers.

So, how the heck I find myself writing this story?

It all happened really fast.

Tuesday, I was perusing some books when I came across a novel set during the time of Ancient Greece about Helen of Troy falling in love with a warrior.

I didn’t read it but I started to become curious about Good Ole Hotpants Helen.

I’d seen movies and/or read about her before.  The most prominent movie I can remember is 2004’s Troy.

So I looked up some information about her. I found some scholarly articles written about her, how she was born, how she was kidnapped or possibly fell in love with another dude and was taken or went voluntarily to Troy, depending on whose side you believe, thus resulting in the ten year long Trojan War.

Apparently, I’m an old hat at this now because as I began reading, I started writing jokes in my head:

  • Helen was conceived when Leda had sex with Zeus, who’d taken the form of a swan. That right there.  I came up with a million swan fucker jokes.
  • She was so beautiful that men constantly fought over her and one of the most famous examples was that two old kings kidnapped her because they wanted to do the bom chicka wow wow with her just to experience being with a hot chick before they died from old age.  Thus, the “crusty old fuck” jokes started rolling in.
  • Castor and Pollux, aka “the Dioscuri” aka  Helen’s brothers, had to rescue her from the elderly kings.  Immediately, I turn it into, “Geez, these two poor schmucks have been saddled with having to rescue their super hot sister from a different pervert every week.”
  • Fun fact – all these years I never knew the villains in Face/Off, my favorite 90s action movie, were named Castor and Pollux Troy after Helen’s bros.
  • And that’s just the surface.  Ancient Greek history is a veritable cornucopia of sex, murder, and absurdity, rife for a comedian to exploit.

Now, here’s the thing.

I have put way too much work into my Zombie Western books.

So I absolutely will not abandon them at this point.

An idea for a funny book about Helen of Troy, told through modern language, popped into my head.

Wednesday night I wrote two chapters then went to bed.

Thursday morning I woke up, read what I wrote, and I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I peed my pants laughing.

That’s big for me because I am always very harsh on my own writing.  But laughter is honest.  Laughter never lies.  As I read those two chapters, I couldn’t stop laughing.

I’m going to get back to Zombie Western and see that through.  My feeling is that maybe once a week I’ll write a chapter of Helen of Troy just to see if I can keep it going.

The story of the Trojan War is long, detailed and has like ten zillion characters.  It would be a challenge to keep the comedy going throughout.  Not sure I can do it but the first couple chapters have led me to believe it is worth a try.

But at any rate I won’t be quitting Zombie Western as I have put way too much work into that to hang it up now.

And what I have learned is no matter how tired you get, how busy you get, you do need to keep coming back to the story you are writing again, and again, and again because if you go away from it for too long then you’ll never come back.

So fear not.  Zombie Western will continue.  Not sure about the future of Helen of Troy yet but if it continues to be this funny I don’t think I can stop.  But I think I have the discipline now to keep coming back to write two stories at once.

The key is that you keep coming back.  Like anything difficult in life, if you keep coming back to work on it, it will eventually get done.  Maybe not as soon as you’d like but it does get done.

Tell me what you think and be honest, 3.5 readers.

The story of Helen of Troy, told through modern language.  Yay or nay?

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Undead Man’s Hand – Chapter 45

shutterstock_131233601-copyWhack! Whack! Whack!

Aunt Lu buried her meat cleaver into a slab of beef and took a break, just long enough to spot Charlie and the Reverend carrying Jane’s sleepy carcass into the lobby.

“Good God Almighty,” Lu said as she met them. “Is Jane alright?”

Jane interrupted her snoring long enough to sing to herself.

“John Brown’s body lie a-molderin’ in the grave! Something, something’s marching…marching on…”

And she was out again.

“About as good as she ever is,” Charlie replied.

“Mercy,” Aunt Lu said. “She does like to start celebrating early doesn’t she?”

“Not sure she ever stops,” Charlie said.

Aunt Lu returned to her cafe. Charlie, with his arms locked underneath Jane’s armpits, and the Reverend, with his hands grasping Jane’s ankles, slowly carried their cargo upstairs, being careful to not bonk her head along the wall on the way.

“Is Miss Jane a believer? the Reverend asked.

“Pardon?”

“Have you ever heard her invoke the word of the Lord?” the Reverend inquired.

“She takes the Lord’s name in vein just about every hour on the hour,” Charlie replied. “Does that count?”

“Not as such,” the Reverend said. “But I do hate to see Miss Jane in this condition. I wonder if I could appeal to her with the good book?”

Upon reaching Jane’s room, Charlie sneaked one hand into Jane’s vest pocket, snagged her key and unlocked the door.

“You’re welcome to try,” Charlie said. “I fear she may just tell you where to stick your good book though, Reverend.”

Charlie and the Reverend hoisted Jane onto her bed.

“Many I have reached out to with the word of the Lord have done just that,” the Reverend said. “But once in a great while I’ll find that someone listens. Those people make my work worth it.”
Charlie struck a match and lit a candle, providing the room with dim illumination. He tugged on one of Jane’s boots until it was off, then did the same with the other. He set the footwear down neatly in a corner, then covered Jane up with an old, tattered blanket.
The Reverend looked around the room. There were no decorations, or pictures, or even much in the way of furniture. Just a bed, a table, and lots and lots of empty glass booze bottles…and one book.

“Perhaps Miss Jane is more pious than you think?” the Reverend asked as he held up the book.

Printed on the cover were the words, “Holy Bible.”

Charlie smirked, took the book from the Reverend, opened it up and pointed to some writing scrawled across the front page.

“For Jane,

May you pay more attention to this than I did and become all the better for it.

J.B. Hickok, 1868”

“Lovely gift,” the Reverend said as he set the bible down. “Certainly she must be a believer if she has held onto it all these years?”

“She’s um…very loyal to Bill,” Charlie said.

Jane shifted about. “Bill?”

“Shhh,” Charlie said. “Its ok.”

“Does Bill….need my help?”

“No,” Charlie said. “He’s fine. Go to sleep, now.”

Charlie waited a moment until Jane was out.

“Miss Jane looks rather peaceful like this,” the Reverend said.

“Yes,” Charlie replied as he blew out the candle. “Shame she’ll soon open up her mouth and ruin it.”

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Do People Read Anymore?

I’m worried people don’t read anymore.

I wish I had some stats on how often people read.

But I feel like with all the streaming media and tons and tons of TV shows that no one can keep up with, reading is going out of style.

Naturally, as an aspiring author this worries me.

What say you, 3.5 readers? Do people read anymore?

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Undead Man’s Hand – Chapter 41

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“You’re quitting immediately and that’s final,” Martha said.

Maggie was having a good time, sitting on her father’s shoulders as she watched fireworks explode in the air in all sorts of pretty colors.

Bullock, on the other hand, was feeling and looking exceptionally morose.

“A man can’t go back on his word,” Bullock said, the matter not being anywhere near final in his estimation.

“Oh don’t give me that,” Martha replied. “You’ve held the job less than a day. Quit tomorrow and no one will say a word about it.”

“I signed up for a year,” Bullock said. “I’ll give this town a year.”

Maggie clapped as a firework burst into a bright green blaze.

“You’ll give this your life,” Martha said.

“Maybe,” Bullock replied.

Another burst. This one orange.

“And ours,” Martha said.

“I’ll never let that happen,” Bullock said.

A purple burst.

“Seth,” Martha said. “I know you. You’ll never turn a blind eye to this Swearengen man’s crimes and yet it sounds like the entire town will turn on you if you ever cross him. If remain the sheriff and avoid doing the job, you’ll hate yourself. If you do your job, we’ll all be dead. Take…the…star…off.”

Bullock smiled as he felt his hat lift off of his head. He couldn’t see it but he could tell by the giggles that Maggie had swiped it.

“You really think that will fit you?” Bullock asked his daughter.

“Where did the boom booms go?” Maggie asked, the hat covering her entire head.

Martha grinned as she took the hat off of Maggie’s head and returned it to her husband’s cranium.

Six bursts, one right after the other. Purple, green, orange, red, white, and blue.

The husband and wife joined hats.

“Why are you making me be an ogre?” Martha asked.

“I’m not,” Bullock replied. “That’s not you, just like me backing down wouldn’t be me.”

“Ugh,” Martha said. “Mule headed stubbornness.”

“Its what you love about me,” Bullock said.

“Says you,” Martha replied. “You’re fooling yourself if you think you can be the sheriff you want to be in this town and still keep us all alive.”

Bullock looked up at the veranda of the Gem Theater. Al was down to the last butt of his cigar. Across the night air, their eyes locked.

Al straightened out his hand and brought it up to his forehead in a mocking salute. Bullock nodded.

“It’ll be slow,” Bullock said. “And it will take a long time, but somehow, I’ll turn this town around.”

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Undead Man’s Hand – Part 5 – The Loser Jack McCall

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Labeled a loser by everyone, from his father to his girlfriend, Young Jack McCall loses his 100th fight, effectively ending his career as a bareknuckler boxer.

He seeks solace in a biography of his hero, Wild Bill Hickok.

Chapter 27       Chapter 28        Chapter 29

Chapter 30

 

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Barnes and Noble Lets Self-Published Books Into Stores

Happy Monday, 3.5 readers.

Wait. Are Mondays ever happy?

Interesting article in The Columbus Dispatch.

Barnes and Noble, which has allowed self-publishers to sell their books on their site to Nook users (Nook being B + N’s version of the Amazon Kindle) will let self-publishers sell books in their brick and mortar stores.

According to the article above, there is a catch, namely, that the author must have sold 1,000 books in the past year.

On the surface, it sounds like a great development for the self-publishing community.

I’ve yet to self-publish, but I’ve read (on blogs) and heard (on various podcasts) that there are a number of self-publishers who are iffy on Nook, they just don’t see the sales that they see on Amazon or other sites.

Still, getting your book in a bookstore…that’s the dream of every author, isn’t it?  Might as well reach out and grab it while bookstores are still around.

My gut tells me this is a recognition that print media is rapidly going the way of self-publishing.  More writers are bypassing the traditional publishing run around by building their blogs, their social media, their online fan base and as that continues, physical bookstores will need to get print copies of those self-published books into their stores to keep sales up.

That’s my take on it. I can’t think of any other reason why they’d do it.

What say you, 3.5 readers?

If you are a self-publisher, will you try this out?

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Undead Man’s Hand – Chapter 37

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August 2, 1876

A horse drawn carriage stopped in front of the Grand Central Hotel. The coachmen waited patiently as the finely dressed travelers in the back engaged in a discussion.

“Oh just let me do it,” Henry said. “I’ve wanted to execute the hideous little twerp for the past couple centuries anyway.”

Lady Beatrice stared at the hotel through the window of the carriage. It was evening. It was a humid evening. Warm and sticky.

“You were right about him,” Lady Beatrice said. “It was my mistake. I shall fix it.”

“Will you?” Henry asked.

The lady glared at Henry. “And what does that question mean?”

“Vampires care about very little other than their children,” Henry said. “I fear you may have concocted some notion that you’ll set him free. The Chairman would not be please.”

Lady Beatrice sighed. “‘The Chairman,’” she scoffed. “I miss the old days when he was just father.”

“Times change,” Henry said.

“That they do,” the lady replied. “Cease your concern. I’ll take care of it.”

“Be reasonable,” Henry said. “At least allow me to gather a team to dispatch Hickok.”

“Henry,” the lady said. “Am I not the Vice-Chairwoman of the Legion Corporation now?”

“You are,” Henry said.

“The number two being in the entire organization,” Lady Beatrice continued. “Second only to the Chairman himself.”

“Quite right but…”

“I outrank you, don’t I?” the lady inquired.

Henry was displeased with that question. “In theory, but…”

“There’s no ‘in theory’ about it,” Lady Beatrice said. “Stand down, counselor. I have the mission under control.”

Henry reached across the carriage and took the lady’s hand. “It’s not the mission I’m worried about.”
“If you’re referring to ‘us’ then you would have been at least one ounce kinder to Jericho in all these years,” Lady Beatrice said.

“Kind to that thing?” Henry asked.

Disgusted, the lady opened the door and hopped out of the carriage.

“Beatrice,” Henry said.

The lady turned. “That thing is my son.”

“I know,” Henry said.

“He has a name,” the lady said.

“I’m aware,” Henry replied.

The Lady walked away. “That will be all, counselor.”

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