Shenanigan Report - A Blast of Randomness
"Nihilism and Absurdity are the spectrum of how we choose to exist in an ultimately senseless universe. If I must choose between wallowing in Nihilism or dancing in Absurdity... I'll choose dancing every time." - Gallowglas
“Faeries, come take me out of this dull world,
For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Run on the top of the disheveled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame.”
― William Butler Yeats,
The Land of Heart's Desire
Beannachtaí, a lucht leanúna na scéalta!
Greetings, story lovers!
Here's our full upcoming schedule:
https://mtoddgallowglas.com/schedule/
Aug 27-31 World Science Fiction Convention
Sept 5 - Reading as a Contact Sport
- Someone to Build a Nest in, John Wiswell
Sept 8 - Season Premiere of Gallowclass on YouTube
Sept 19 - Writing Workshop
Sept 26 - Reading as a Contact Sport
- The Book Eaters, Sunyi Dean
Oct 3 & 4 - Handford Renaissance Faire
Gallowclass
I'll be making the official announcement of the Gallowclass relaunch in the next week or so, but if you're interested in rediscovering your writing, email or message me, and I'll help you decide if Gallowclass is right for you.
Gallowfacts: A New Feature
With each Shenanigan report, I'm going to offer up some tidbits about myself that I think y'all might find interesting. If there's anything specific you'd like to know, ask away in the comments, and I might include it in the Next Shenanigan report.
Here's a list of all the jobs I did before becoming a full-time writer and storyteller, and I'm going to try and get them in order...
Paperboy, dishwasher at a Boy Scout summer camp, dunk booth insulter at Renaissance Faire, juggler, novelty clothes retail sales, McDonalds, very-indie recording artists, graveyard cashier at a gas station - then 7-11, liquor bootlegger, web development intern, swing dance teacher, retail clerk at a game store, asst manager at a school supply story, ballroom dance teacher, online community manager...
And it's been all writing and storytelling since then.
Life of a Literary Underdog
Here's a brief, behind-the-scenes update on where things are going with my creative life.
I'm shaking up my writing classes to make them more accessible to more people. Stay tuned for announcements about that toward the end of the month.
Comic Con was epic. I posted a lot about it on my social media. Well... I posted a lot for me. I'm still getting the hang of building my social media presence. Still not really sure about what to post on a regular basis in my day to day life. However, I might be bringing a social media coach onto my tiny little support team.
Big news for all of you who love Jaludin! I finished his next adventure, Jaludin's Journey. I'm dictating it into the computer and editing it. Just like Jaludin's Voyage was a different kind of story than Jaludin's Road, I've made this third adventure a different kind of story. I'll be posting it to Patreon soon for my supporters, and it will be the final story in The Good, the Bard, and the Ugly. I'll also post it to Patreon for Short Story Saturday, event though it's well into novella length. Looking forward to what you Jaludin fans think.
Since the last newsletter, I've posted a couple of things:
Progress on the TV is going slowly, as it does with these things. I keep heading down to Hollywood for networking events, hoping to talk to someone who will believe in it enough to throw a bunch of money at it.
Tears of Rage 5, The Sharpened Edge of Fate crossed 100,000 words. Might be as many as 120K by the time I wrap up with it. I've got a bunch of new characters I think y'all are going to love. Some of them might even survive to Tears of Rage 6 Bwahahahahaha!!!
Dragon Bone Flute 3 - The climax was giving me some trouble. I'm now in the third or fourth draft. Just last week, I took a page of the journal dedicated to the story and just mused about the end of the story through some word vomiting onto the page. I think I got it figured out. One solid weekend of writing should clear that up.
Halloween Jack - October will see hard-back editions of each of the first three books. Each one will feature a new Halloween Jack short story.
Non-Practicing Taoist & StoryMind - I've been working a lot on both of these, growing beyond what I originally envisioned for them. I don't think the bite-sized bits that I've been doing here are doing either project any justice. I'll have to keep considering the best way to share the ideas of these projects.
In the background, work continues on the Wyrd Frontier.
Which of my upcoming projects are you most looking forward to?
Media Consumption
What I'm reading, watching, and gaming.
- Dungeon Crawler Carl - We had a good time going over this one for Reading as a Contact Sport. I've listened to books 2 & 3 in the series. I'm forcing myself to listen to other books in between so that I don't run out of the goodness of this series too soon. I have a feeling Matt Dinniman will be at these for a while. Maybe at the end of next year, we'll do a Reading as a Contact Sport for the whole series.
- Someone to Build a Nest In by John Wiswell - Our next book for Reading as a Contact Sport. I chose it because it won the Nebula and Locus awards. It opens with a bit of a creep factor, and I almost pushed it aside in favor of something that didn't prickle me so much. However, I considered the writing of the first couple pages, and it's pretty great. The point of Reading as a Contact sport is to study writing that elicits a reaction, so I'm keeping it. I hope all of you invested in leveling up your writing will join us for the conversation on September 6.
- The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff - revisiting this to work on not practicing Taoism. I hit a stumbling block on this one, as I found myself pushing back on aspects of it that I didn't when I read it in my youth. After decades of soaking in Taoist wisdom from many different sources, the tone of at last one chapter comes off as extremely dogmatic, which rankles me more than a little bit. Taoism should not be dogmatic at all.
- Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu - I've got five different versions of this, and I'm reading chapters of them nearly every day and then writing a page or so of how I interpret what they are saying. It's intriguing the vast differences in tone and language each version offers. I'm finding much to consider about my place in my life and within the world.
- Taoism - The Parting Way by Holmes Welch - This book offers many gifts about Taoism. The best is a perspective of the great challenges in translating the Tao Te Ching so as not to hold it or Lao Tzu on an unwarranted pedestal. Perspective and context are valuable tools when examining any philosophical work.
- Fuzzy Nation by John Scalzi was fine. I mostly enjoyed it. It wasn't terrible. It wasn't amazing.
- Erik by Sir Terry Pratchett - I hate Rincewind. I find myself disliking any book that focuses on Rincewind. I don't think they are as well written as Pratchett's other Discworld books. I hope that's the last Rincewind book I have to choke through.
- Red Shirts by John Scalzi - Just started it. Listening to the audiobook read by Wil Wheaton. So far, it's fine.
- WWE, it's my thing.
- House of the Dragon - Strongest season yet.
- Reacher season 4 - Off to a good start. Love this series.
- Lanterns - The first episode is great. We're doing a bit of hopping around in time, but not so jarring as to leave me confused. The cast is great. I'm really excited to see where this one is going.
Storytime
Here's a bit with one of the new characters from The Sharpened Edge of Fate.
Mouse felt right at home in the early morning fog of Koma City. Some people didn’t like it at all, mostly because they knew the dangers the fog held. Though by this time of the day, when the barest rays of light crept above the sea, and the fog glowed a bit, most of the serious danger had either gone to sleep or was waking with too heavy a drinking sickness to be dangerous to anyone. Besides, anyone with half a mind on their here and now could sniff and spot danger well before they wandered into it. Mouse always kept at least half her mind on her here and now. Both her mother and old Mad Sal, who her mom worked for, beat that knowing of the here and now into Mouse’s backside with many a heavy wooden spoon.
Somewhere in the distance, a rower with a deep voice began a song that echoed off the waters and through the passages between buildings.
I row my way to see my heart,
I row my way to hear her sigh,
I row my way to my beloved,
I row my way to her shining eyes.
A delighted smile lifted Mouse’s face. She stayed up through the night to hear the best of the rowers’ songs. And daytime was safer for sleeping. Some rowers had just set their skiffs into the water, so their voices filled the air with the promise of a new day. Some rowers were tying their skiffs at a dock after a long night, so their voices filled the air with the promise of a bed, or in the case of this song, the promise of love.
Young as Mouse was, she didn’t know how many winters she’d seen. Still, she dreamed of love. Maybe someday, she’d be the reason some rower sang on his way home after a long night. Of course, Mouse would have a long night too. Even at such a time that she might have a husband, Mouse had no intention of ever giving up working. Unless, of course, she got caught picking a pocket and wasn’t clever enough to get away. Hard to pick a pocket if the Vara took off your picking hand. Sister Wind be praised that the Vara grew less and less capable every passing year. At some point, when Mouse had a husband, the Vara might be filled with such imbeciles that Mouse would be picking their pockets. She might even give some of that coin back to the folks who paid to make sure the Vara kept an extra keen eye on their shops.
But that was later. In the here and now, Mouse moved through the fog to follow that deep voice of a rower heading home to his love.
The egg is full of white and yellow.
The sea is full of sand and shells.
The garden is full of leaves and flowers.
Full of a lady’s love, I find myself.
Mouse’s smile grew. She’d never heard this song before, and her heart opened to the joy carried by that deep, resonating voice.
At the bridge, Mouse dropped a pinch of bread into the canal below, and whispered, “Sister Wave, let me follow him for the whole song. And if you’re feeling kind, let me find him again. I like this song and want to learn it.”
Since Mouse had made a second request, she dropped another pinch of bread into the canal.
Some folks thought that Sister Wave preferred coin over food, but Mouse knew the truth of those tales. Her friend, Eel, told her that many years ago, some aged pickpockets, whose hands were not so steady, had spread the tale of how Sister Wave delighted and shiny things at the bottom of the canals. Every now and again, Mouse considered asking Eel to bring her into the swimmers. After all, no one ever got their hand cut off for collecting coins from the bottom of the canal. Then again, no pickpocket had to swim through a place where beggars emptied themselves and all those dangerous folk puked out their drink-sick stomachs.
My heart waits for the end of my rowing,
she sighs for me to make my way home.
Soon, my beloved, my rowing will end,
and your shining eyes will see me home.
That bit was not as well done as the other parts of the song. Perhaps the singer was still working his way through that verse. Mouse hoped so. She didn’t like it when songs used the same words to make a rhyme. Another pinch of bread went into the water for Sister Wave.
“Let him think of something better for that verse.”
Mouse crossed another bridge to find two Vara standing guard on the other side.
They each held one of their studded cudgels at the ready, and their hoods were pulled up against the morning chill. As Mouse was not trying to sneak about, they noticed her right off.
“Take another way, little one,” the Vara on her right said. “We’ve got some trouble brewing this side of the bridge.”
“Yes, Sir.” Mouse gave her best curtsy and turned about.
“Wait,” the other Vara called.
Footsteps from hard-heeled boots tromped across the bridge. Mouse’s stomach turned to ice, and her heart sank into it. A hand fell on Mouse’s shoulder and turned her around.
Mouse looked up into a face she hadn’t seen in months and months. Even though Emyll Tolan looked far cleaner than ever before, Mouse recognized his too-small eyes set back under an overly large forehead. His patches of dark stubble had grown into a decent beard. Word about the canal was that he’d gotten snatched up.
“Good morning, Mouse,” Emyll said.
“I ain’t working today,” Mouse blurted. “Just following that singing rower. I like his song.”
Emyll smiled and squeezed Mouse’s shoulder. “I don’t care if you’re working or not. Just keep your head down. Maybe stick close to Sal’s for the next week to month. A friendly warning, for old times’ sake.”
Mouse peered into Emyll’s face and studied him. Not so long ago, Mouse could read him fairly well. Now, nothing gave away his true intent or meaning, but Mouse knew better than to argue.
“Yeah, alright. Stick to Sal’s.”
“Good to see you’re doing fine,” Emyll said, and released Mouse’s shoulders. “Mind me now. Work can wait a bit. Keep yourself to yourself.”
Mouse nodded again, and whispered. “Do they know?” She shot a glance toward the other Vara.
Emylle laughed. “Yes. They know. Got a kind magistrate who offered me a choice. This is my life now. As for you, stick to Sal’s, and sometime I’ll come tell the tale. For now, scurry off, little Mouse. Oh, and give my best to your mother.”
On her way back to Mad Sal’s Dockside Public House, Mouse thanked Sister Wind and Sister Wave that it was Emyll Tolan and not some other Vara who had seen her.
