Monday, January 30, 2012

Are babies just like drunk people?

Let us analyze that statement, just for fun. I have a baby, so it makes me wonder, see.

First off, I will challenge the reader to dispute that babies and drunks don't waddle the same waddle. It's a back-and-forth almost-tumble that makes you wonder if they aren't walking down the aisle of a bus going sixty down a bumpy winding backroad.

When they kiss, it's all slobbery.

Neither one is afraid to piss in public.

Everything is hilarious. Bodily function-noises -- e.g. the Zurburt or the Rasberry -- are fan favorites.

They want to ~touch~ everything.

Either one is prone to scream in the middle of Wal Mart.

I wouldn't trust either one to drive a car or a golf cart. That's a good one, eh!

Both throw-up on themselves and think nothing of it.

Both will walk through the house naked, or out into the yard for that matter.

You can't understand a dang thing either one says!

How about you? Any other similarities I missed?

- Eric

Thursday, January 26, 2012

And finally we release "Out of the Great Black Nothing"

Finally, after a year in draft and edit, and two years in concept, I release my debut novel: Out of the Great Black Nothing

My author interview is here: Eric Trant Interview

I don't know what to say, other than I feel like I lost and gained something special. It's sort of like getting married, having a child, or losing your virginity. It's the end of one and the beginning of another.

I am a published author. How about that.

- Eric

Monday, January 23, 2012

What do you say when people ask?

So I went to a family reunion this weekend and guess what happened? Everyone asked about my writing.

They asked about work and the family, sure, but they wanted to know about my short stories and forthcoming novel.

What's it about? they all asked. Where can I buy it? Do you have business cards? Where is your website? When will it be released?

That's when I went Fudd on them and started stammering. I had no idea what to say!

It embarrassed me. I don't like discussing my work, because when I say it out loud, it sounds (to me) ridiculous.

God love my wife. She started talking me up, and hearing her talk relaxed me. Then I started talking easier about the story lines, and after a while I felt more like I was networking than visiting with family.

It was weird to hand out business cards to my family. But they took them, and I think they are genuinely excited about the book.

The business cards, of course, were for my business, not for my book and writing, and I looked as be-Fudd-led as I felt.

So I give you this as advice, as well as myself, regarding the arting of writing.

Get some business cards

There's a thought, eh. I will probably generate a logo for myself. Speaking of which...


Not sure on this one. For me, yes, I will create a logo. If you do it yourself, keep it simple, with as few colors as possible, and don't go changing it every few weeks. Make sure you can zoom in or out without losing resolution. You will need Photoshop if you are serious about it, or you can find free logo companies online.

Know your long and short

Be ready with a one-sentence blurb about your book. My blurb it this: It's about a redneck in a spacesuit who sits in a lawn chair and stares at the moon.

Then you can field questions after that little intro. I need to practice more.

Website and email

If you don't already, get a website and an email. I use my business email, and I own the website and redirect it here.

Have a central location for all your work

I keep track of my work and publications right here on this blog. I try to make it easy for folks to find and purchase my work.

Be professional on your blog

Too late for that one, eh.

Anyway, enough about all that. I need to polish my marketing and conversation skills so I am better prepared in the future.

How about you? Have you been taken off-guard about your current career and dream pursuits? Do you stammer when they ask what it's about and how it's going?

Buh buh buh, buh-da, That's all, folks.

- Eric

Thursday, January 19, 2012

How much money do you need, anyway?

Man, I got this one figgered to the penny. I need $4.00 mil. That's it for life.

I calculate with the cost of living adjustments, I would need just that much to survive to eighty-something, and by then I should be good and dead, assuming I continue to follow the American diet and breathe Dallas air.

$4 mil. Anything after that is fluff on my cake, and fluff only makes you fat.

I see these corporate guys/gals making hundreds of $mils and I think, Man, how many zeroes do you need to be happy?

Six? Seven? Eight? NINE! TEN like Gates and those Middle Eastern Princes with their diamond-studded Mercedes?


You realize, of course, that zero is a physical representation of a NULL, and that it has no mathematical value or function, other than relocating the decimal. It is, in fact, living proof that man does not understand the universe, because there is no such thing as NULL. God did not create a NULL. He laughs at zero as I laugh at infinity and mankind's infinite ignorance about its own mathematical and scientific dysfunction.

We are wrong, way wrong, and I laugh with God.


Therefore, no matter how many zeroes are in your income, it is still a NULL. It is more and more nothing in your offshore bank account.

If I had $4 mil, I'd pay off my house and what little other debt I have and stash back the rest. I would be free to retire, see, that's the point.

I would drive my old Tahoe into the ground -- and for you greenies out there, hush up yo mouf in advance. I know it's a gas guzzler. I figger the faster we burn it, the faster we'll learn it's true value. You only miss it when it's gone.

What was it the Indian said about fish? We'll only worry about over-fishing after we eat the last fish.

Anyway, have you thought about how much you need? What is your cut-off point? Do you have one? If you don't, you'd better figure it out, because you don't want to be one of those corporate greed-olies who think they need bigger and bigger boxes in which to store their stuff.

George Carlin said that: A house is a box with a lid on it in which you store your stuff.

Me, at $4 mil, I open my own local brewery, work in my underpants from home and in my brewery, and if you drink in my brewery, you drink without your pants, because that's how I roll. I drink what I don't sell, and sell what I don't drink.

I will call it Club Garson for personal reasons, and we will play indoor soccer on the off-days. Pantsless.

No garage full of Maseratis and Porches and other unpronounceable cars could ever be better than that.

Is it Porche or Porch? I sit on one and drink and talk to the moon, and on the other I run off a cliff and burst into flames. Which one, tell me, do you prefer?

Plus, my wife is hotter than most rich guy's wives, and she loved me way before I had $4 mil.

In fact, I have no idea why she loves me, but she is gorgeous, and you just can't buy that, now can you.

What's that limit, folks? Where is your cutoff?

- Eric

Monday, January 16, 2012

What do you want as a writer?

What is it you want, as a writer that is?

Do you want money? Fame? Notoriety?

Me, I'll tell you what I want, since you asked nicely.

I want to be loved.

I brought the cheese, you bring the crackers, eh.

But really, that's what I want. I want to be that lingering aftertaste, that euphoric moment after you wake up from a vivid dream.

I want to be one of those authors who people discuss fondly, and say, Man, I liked that story. It resonated. I related to that character. Remember that one scene where the woman sewed her arm back on, man that was cool.

I don't know if that will bring me anything other than internal satisfaction. If so, that's fine, I suppose.

See, I mentioned in an older post that one of my readers gave me a statue of Percy Freebottom, a character I created who is all dreamer, and all he dreams of is writing his name in the moon. The reader bought me a 12" statue of a spaceman, and had the name Freebottom stenciled on the lapel pocket.

He said when he and his wife were at a baseball game on a full moon night, his wife looked up at the moon and said, I wonder if Percy wrote his name yet?

That's what I want, folks. I want to resonate. I want to vibrate deep in your cockles.

Anyway, what is it you want, and are you finding it yet? I am. One reader at a time, I'm finding it just fine.

- Eric

Friday, January 6, 2012

Candyland's Post

Just wanted to say how amazed I am at the outpouring of goodwill over at Candyland. I've been following her for a while, and she's humorous, insightful, well-written, and deeply honest. There aren't many bloggers who could post what she posted without sounding ingenuous.

Candyland: Lower than a rapper's pants

I'd also bring up Mr. 3QE himself, Matthew MacNish, The QQQE, for drawing in so many people to Candace's place. Nice job, Matt.

Go read her post. I've read it quite a few times. She's having trouble with her new baby and could use a little hope thrown her direction. And couldn't we all use that sometimes!

Here's a quote to get you started:

From pregnancy, he's been a needy baby. It started with the loss of fluid near his head causing me to be in and out of the hospital (= monumental bills piling up), then he died at birth. Thankfully was brought back to us but it was not without issues. He's had problems with different formulas and medications which they attribute to reflux. After we got our sweet Sully home from the hospital, his condition has only worsened.

- Eric