No habla Espanol


I just finished a week of teaching a Spanish class at Westmoore High School. Found out yesterday they want me to come back for another week. The husband of the regular teacher was in a serious accident (but is recovering well). It was nice having one class for a week, and I look forward to having them for another five days. I’ve learned the names of several kids, which always helps. And they’re good kids, too. They made cards for the regular teacher on Thursday and Friday and the notes they wrote were very touching.

Several guys in the classes are obsessed with football. There are even two Vikings fans, although one of those actually wears a Texas Longhorns jersey to class sometimes. Westmoore went undefeated this football season, and won their first playoff game in double overtime last night. I took Amanda and Jake to the game, but we had to leave during halftime because the kids thought it was too cold. Okay, it was pretty chilly, but it was a tie game. I guess four and six year olds just don’t appreciate that. Congrats to the Jags for beating Edmond Santa Fe.

I agreed to review a couple of books for a certain horror Web site. I’ve begun reading one of them, and it’s just a painful experience. I find myself finding anything else to do other than open that book again. When I do open it, I actively search for something nice to say about it, and there’s just not anything. I’m not opposed to writing a harsh review, but usually I can find something good to say about the work. That crap film Van Helsing, for instance, at least had Kate Beckinsale and the hot vampire wives.

Speaking of reviews, Chris Fulbright called the other night with his feedback on Little Graveyard on the Prairie. Chris is not only a helluva nice guy, good author, and husband to Angeline Hawkes, but he’s also honest. He pointed out a few things that bothered him, so I’m looking those over today and hope to send the manuscript off to the publisher this weekend.

Still no word from Scrybe Press. E-mail and phone calls go unreturned. Frustration mounts. Technically, he’s in breach of contract, which means I could, at the least, shop Ulrik somewhere else. With all the publication and payment delays, it’s something I suppose I should seriously consider. I know the publisher’s not answering e-mail and calls from other authors with work he’s accepted for publication. If I don’t get some books soon I’ll have to cancel the Full Circle signing, since they’re making me bring my own.

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