Help a spider out

Science Fiction author Spider Robinson's wife Jeanne is fighting cancer and they're both fighting to pay the bills. 100% of any money used to purchase Larry Santoro's excellent e-book, "Lord Dickens's Declaration," will go directly to the Robinsons. Here's the link:

http://www.starshipsofa.com/shop/lord-dickenss-declaration/

Dec 31st is the last day that people can buy Larry's story. I'd like to end the fundraiser with a bang. Let's get the word out all over the web to let people know on December 30th, there's only one day left to help. Why December 30th? Because if there's only one day left people won't put it off and say, "I'll do it later. I still have time." Make sure you link to the purchase page!

My dad

So, my father died last month.

He died alone in a hospital bed with no one who knew him nearby to mark his passing. My sister found out a few hours later, and then called me.

It's hard, even now, not to shout at someone complaining about something. I have to restrain myself from screaming, "How the fuck is that important when my father is dead? Huh?"

I don't, because they don't know and it's not their fault. Maybe I should, but it won't change anything and I doubt it would make me feel better.

I loved my father, even though he was a drunk. It's what killed him, really. He died because his body couldn't handle the withdrawal this time.

I think the saddest part is that my life won't change very much at all. He hadn't sent me even a card for any holiday or birthday for years, and never offered anything more than a vague promise to come and visit next year, "when he had more money." He was never much in my life, and these last years nothing more than a voice on a phone. Toward the end, I was calling him every week to talk to him. Mostly I got his answering machine.

I don't recommend having an answering machine for a father. Sure, they're great listeners but they don't teach you how to shave, change a tire, or take a punch.

I love my father, and I wish he could have stopped drinking. I wish that he loved me more than he loved gin. But he didn't. I think it would have been very wonderful to have him in my life.

But now I'll never know.

Steampunk

So, I've been shopping around a new short story I wrote.

Well, not so new, really. I wrote it originally for a Star Craft anthology, but it was turned down.

I'll vent more about what I lost out to later.

So, I re-wrote it and punked it up a bit, and shopped it to some online publications.

And, steampunktales.com picked it up for publication!

I know! Freaking sweet!

So, yeah. One more short story in the bank. Pretty soon I should write a novel and shop it around.