When Daddy Became Dad

I'm not sure how it happened, but a few weeks ago, Alexander started to call me "Dad" -- this came out of nowhere, as I still call myself "Daddy" to him, as does Francine. Yet there he was, determining, all on his own, that he was going to start calling me "Dad" -- he has also started to refer to Francine as "Mom" rather than "Mommy."

The cutest was about a week ago when I was getting up early to do some writing before getting ready to go in to work. I went into his bedroom to tuck him back under his blankets and he woke up, looked at me and said in a really soft voice: "Going to work, Dad?"

I said yes and told him to go back to sleep and within a second he was out. I was left with the wonder of how the little guy developed his own unique language use, seemingly independent of the language we were using.

Quite amazing -- while it's adorable and interesting, it's also a sign that my little baby is growing up. I mean, in the past couple of weeks, he has joined me on a Ferris Wheel without being the slightest bit afraid, rode on an elephant in order to ensure Mommy (whoops, sorry "Mom") felt safe, and rode on a junior roller coaster all by himself.

I think I'll go listen to Cat Stevens' "Cats in the Cradle" and have myself a good cry.

Keen To Keep Reading!

Damn, I'm a hypocrite. As a writer who often writes horror, I often shake my head whenever I'm in a discussion or overhear someone dismiss horror fiction as not real writing or not real literature. Often this comes from folks who might never have actually read a horror novel or short story, or perhaps whose only experience with horror comes from pop culture horror films or even terribly written and produced schlocky movies.

Was it Douglas Winter who stated that horror is an emotion, not a genre?

Yes, books get given special covers geared to "attract" horror fans, and get placed in particular locations on bookstore shelves in a category known as horror. But there are countless "literary" novels I've read over the years that, to me, are really horror novels. They just got branded as fiction or literary and placed elsewhere on the bookstore and library shelves. This isn't to say that I look down on them. On the contrary. When I find any writer able to employ words in such a way that I am frightened or am made to think or even better, to feel, I look up to them all the more.

What I'm getting at here is that I recently made the mistake of thinking myself above "Zombie" novels? Why? Because I've seen a dozen or so "Zombie" movies, and while some of them have been good, I've got this particular stereotype in my mind that they're all the same and that there can't be anything new or interesting in them. (Yes, even despite the fact that Oprah picked a "zombie" novel for her book club recently - in Cormac McCarthy's The Road)

I can't believe I did this, because always had a real soft spot for apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic tales. My enjoyment of these tales are one of the elements that drew me into reading science fiction and horror in the first place. And what are zombie novels other than apocalyptic tales of a horrific extreme. (I mean, not only are the dead rising and gnawing at me and my friends, but they're the bodies of the people I know and love. What's worse, that my dead wife's body has crawled out of the grave and is coming after me, or the fact that I have to shoot her in the head to save my own life? Some fascinating moral challenges to consider when reading a zombie novel)

So, yes, I've kept a closed mind on the zombie. My eyes were opened while I was at World Horror Con in Toronto in March. I was attending a panel themed something along the lines of "Zombies Verses Vampires" -- Horror author Brian Keene was on the panel and said something that stuck with me. He said that his first novel The Rising, was not a zombie novel, that it was a novel about a father's love for his son. He then explained that it was inspired by this one time he was on his way to pick up his son for a weekend together and he was stopped by a State Trooper who said the Interstate Highway he was on was closed and he'd have to turn back. When he ignored the Trooper, thinking that NOTHING was going to stop him from getting to his son, he then wondered what WOULD stop him. As he went through the list of various things that WOULD NOT stop him, he came across Zombies, and the genesis for his novel was born.

Immediately after WHC I special ordered his first two novels (The Rising and the sequel to it called City of the Dead). Yes, being a sappy father who loves his son more than anything, I was looking forward to following this tale of a father fighting his way through a post-apocalyptic America to get to his boy. What I wasn't suspecting was that I'd love so many of the other characters and situation that Keene set up in this novel. (It's so easy to see, after the fact, why he won the Bram Stoker Award for First Novel for The Rising) Keene was also able to approach the concept of zombies in a way I'd never read before -- he has given them a new kind of intelligence and an interesting background. I'm intrigued to learn more as the story continues to unfold.

I finished the novel just the other day, and had been planning on reading the latest Michael Connelly novel once I finished it. But dammit -- Keene ended it in such a way that I absolutely HAD to pick up the sequel which I'm now already several chapters into it and enjoying it tremendously. (That, and I found out from my sales rep at Book Expo Canada that Keens has a third book in that series coming out in a few months -- woo hoo!)

Thanks Brian! Thanks for reopening my mind.

The moral of this story: Don't close your mind -- open a book.

HNT - TiT - Blackout

Terror in Toyland (TiT) - An HNT Adventure
by Mark Leslie

Continued from this post

Mark blacked out before he even hit the ground, and for the longest time he just laid there, unconscious and enjoying the break from the mostly stressful day he'd been having.

After all, it wasn't every day that Darth Tater and his gang of spud thugs launched an attack that shrunk Mark down to the size of a toy and started terrorizing him. Not to mention that despite the help of fellow blogger Susie, Mark still ended up flying off the dead end of a toy train that they had hopped aboard in order to escape the laser fire from the Darth gang.

No, instead, Mark just laid there unconscious and enjoyed his favourite dream -- the one where he is sitting on the couch with Homer Simpson and enjoying a box of donuts while watching the boob tube.

No scary Darth Taters, no crazy deadlines to get an HNT post up every single Thursday for the past two years and the overbearing guilt that came with not being able to visit as many of his HNT friends as he would like each week -- no, none of that. Just a blissful Homer Simpson dream. Simple and easy.

But the blissful dream came to a frightening halt when he heard the screams of his friend Susie followed by the cackling of his enemy taters.


Several things came to his mind -- first, it was good to learn that Susie was still alive and had survived the fall. Second, it was apparent that she now needed his help.

It was time to spring into action. But first, he really should find some pants, shouldn't he?

To be continued . . .

Cold Comfort

I hate it when I get a sick feeling in my stomach and then find out that my tenancy to imagine the worst is true.

When my childhood pal Jeff Mason went missing back in November 2006, the same day that his car was found abandoned and torched on a quiet street and his house was burned down, I felt ill. While I'd prayed and hoped that Jeff had made it out safely and was hiding from the people who were trying to hurt him, I didn't have a good feeling about it.

His body was found by a group of fishermen a few days ago at the Stobie Dam on the Vermillion River not far from where he lived on the highway between Dowling and Chelmsford. The cause of death was confirmed to be from blunt force trauma.

While I no longer live in the Sudbury area, I've been following news updates about Jeff for the past six months and do know that his family also suspected that Jeff was no longer alive -- that they'd been hoping just to be able to find his body so they could properly bury their son and brother. So they could have closure.

I suppose the discovery of Jeff's body will give them that. But it's a cold comfort indeed.

I'm spending a moment, thinking about a friend that I used to giggle insanely with, play endless hours of ice and street hockey with, play tag with, hurl fun and creative insults back and forth with; I'm remembering times when we practically pissed our pants laughing so hard while tobogganing or trying not to giggle in the library.

I also think about the man that Jeff grew up to become. The man I never had the pleasure of knowing. But I've heard about how, when his father died in 2003, he moved back home from Calgary to help his Mom out with the farm, with sorting through all the details and with helping to look after her. A selfless son and brother to the end.

And then I think about how cool online networks like blogging or Facebook have allowed me to re-connect with so many friends from high school and University.

And how I'll never have the chance to re-connect with Jeff.

Goodbye my friend. Though it has been such a long time, I'll always remember the laughs we shared. I'll always remember that flyaway long sandy blond hair that used to stick out from the back of your hockey helmet, that infectious grin, and of course, your unforgettable laugh.

And God be with your family in this tragic and incomprehensibly painful time. Here's hoping that their memories of all the things you were to them will help them through it all.

Giant Book Nerd

If I haven't made this obvious yet in previous posts, I'm a great big giant book nerd. There, now that we've gotten that out of the way, let me babble a bit about the delightful time I've been having these past few days at Book Expo Canada.

This year I've not only attended the Trade show, but also the Conference that precedes it, and have to admit that I've fallen into a little piece of heaven. Friday's "Devices & Desires" sessions were really informative and fun (and, of course, getting to see Stephen King receive a lifetime achievement award from the Canadian Booksellers Association was the best way I could imagine ending the day.

I spent a good part of Sunday bumping into and catching up with dozens of friends and colleagues that I haven't seen in a long time. It's always great to catch up with them and find out where they're working now (so many of us have stayed in the book industry in some capacity) and how they are doing.

It was during a panel discussion on the topic of building a bookstore community in which there were many inspirational discussions on the culture of a good bookstore, and the wonder that occurs when book lovers come together and discuss the books they love. From that discussion I made several notes of phrases that I overheard in which I really enjoyed. Among them are the following quotes which I'm going to attribute to Sarah McNally (who runs the McNally Robinson location in New York). Sarah was an inspirational speaker who just oozed of a love for the written word and sharing that love with like-minded people.

"A good bookstore is a mirror held up to the world"


"The richest man and the poorest man in the world can hold the same book."

HNT - Trained Professionals

If you're here for the continuing Darth Tater - Terror in Toyland storyline, it will be continued next week . . . (yes, you'll have to wait another week to see if Mark and Susie survive the train crash) . . . sorry . . .


I was digging through some of my photos from University (I was chatting with an old theatre buddy that I was reacquainted with thanks to Facebook about posting some old photos on the Sock N Buskin Alumni group there) and stumbled upon this precious gem.

John Strickland and I worked together at Theatre Operations at Carleton University. It was a division of IMS (Internal Media Services) and Theatre Operations ran the Alumni Theatre on campus (also known as Theatre A in Southam Hall). The theatre was used for first year classrooms, but also used on evenings and weekends by theatre groups (such as Carleton's Sock N Buskin Theatre Company).

John was in many ways the heart and soul of the theatre. When the theatre was rented out, John, a lighting and audio technician, came with it. And because I also worked part time at the theatre while going to University, I sometimes came with it when they required a second technician on duty.

Over the years, John and I worked many 18 and 20 hour days together, and being stuck in a tech booth at the back of a theatre for such unGodly hours during long rehearsals and endless weekends did one of two things to a couple of guys -- it would either make them angry and bitter, or drive them into silly humour.

It was the silly humour that inspired our "Trained Professionals" bit -- which is pictured below. The photo was likely taken sometime near 1990 by another fellow technician Andrea Clasper.

During long shifts of working on lighting or the set or whatever it was we were required to do to keep the theatre running and the show on track, John and I spoofed a couple of goofball handymen and offered idiotic advice on how to get the job done. This was much to the chagrin of our boss who just shook his head whenever we started going on in this fashion.

John and I shared countless laughs in our time working together, we even collaborated on writing projects (one of which was published in my story collection One Hand Screaming -- John, an excellent horror writer, was a great mentor to me) and fortunately, we've maintained our friendship over the years and across the distance between Ottawa and Hamilton. We still get together at least twice a year, and it's always good to see John and his family.

This photo makes me laugh (and it's not the mullet that's making me laugh, because man, I keep thinking how good it would be to have hair again . . . any hair . . . yes, even a mullet)

Nice Vice

Today is Camp Day at Tim Hortons in Canada. Which means that the proceeds from sales of coffee is going towards the Tim Hortons Children's Foundation that send underprivileged kids to one of a series of Tim Hortons camps. This incredible program allows for thousands of children to experience the joys and wonder of the camp experience which the rest of us can take for granted.

I love Camp Day, and like McDonald's McHappy Day, I look forward to it every year. You get to do something fun and know that you're helping make a difference.

Isn't it nice when one of your vices can help do something good?

Coffee has long been an important vice in my life. It got really bad when I first graduated from University and had been working two different jobs that mostly took place in the evenings, overnight or on weekends. At the time, I made a very concentrated effort into my writing, putting aside a good 4 to 6 hours each weekday morning to write. I treated it like my job (although I think in 1992 I made a whole $5.00 from my writing. But don't laugh. It was US money, and back in 1992, that was worth almost $8.00 Canadian).

Each morning I brewed a 12 cup pot of coffee which I had usually consumed by about 10 or 11 AM. And if I was on a real roll with the writing, I'd put on another pot and write for a couple more hours. (Gee, no wonder I'm still hyper more than 10 years later -- the coffee is still working its way through my system)

And I'd always had a soft spot in my heart for Tim Hortons; but it wasn't until I visited Hamilton with Francine for the first time that I realized I had walked into Tim Hortons central. We were at my brother-in-law's house in the evening and he asked if anyone wanted a coffee. There were five takers. So I followed him into the kitchen, thinking I would help him brew a pot, but he walked right past the coffee machine and out into the driveway and took off in his car. At first I was worried that the pressure of taking such a large coffee order had unbalanced him -- but Francine assured me he was okay, and, when he returned 15 minutes later with an order of coffees from Tim Hortons, I understood. People in Hamilton don't brew their own coffee at home. Why do that when there's a Tim Hortons around almost every single corner.

The very first Tim Hortons store started in Hamilton in 1964 and offered two single products -- coffee and donuts. (Trivia point here -- Timbits, the popular bite sized donut hole offering, were introduced in 1976) In Hamilton, the original home of Horny Tim's, there are literally intersections in the city that has a Tim Hortons on 3 of the 4 corners. There are some locations where you can stand at one Tim Hortons location and throw a Timbit and actually hit another Tim Hortons location (I've always thought it would make a fun tourist draw for our city if a sport could be made out of it - Call it the Timbit Horton Hopping Challenge. See how long it takes someone to get across the city this way. You're only allowed to move from Tim Hortons location to Tim Hortons location, and can only move to each location if you're able to hit the destination building with a Timbit)

In any case, I'm still quite delighted that I'm able to embrace a vice and know that I'm supporting a worthy cause.

So in that realm, I'd like to propose that we get a group of like-minded people together and petition Frito-Lay, Molson and La-Z-Boy to get together and create a Fat Slobs Day, whereby they make concerted donations for the documented use of their three products together to provide funding for a needy group. That way I can feel good about sitting on the couch eating potato chips and drinking beer.

Just think about the billions of dollars that would be raised.

Commuter Challenge

This week, I'm taking the Commuter Challenge -- which is a national program that aims to increase the awareness of the benefits of sustainable commuting and to encourage Canadians to take action by walking, cycling, taking transit, carpooling or tele-working instead of driving alone to get work.

And while I'm only two days into the challenge, I'm quite enjoying it -- yes, despite the massive downpour of rain that occurred during this morning's commute. I have to admit, it's really tempting to just take my 10-15 minute drive in to McMaster from home; but the two bus transfer from my home to campus isn't all that bad. I left my house at 6:45 and was at work by 7:25. Normally, I leave home at about 7:00 and am at work by 7:30. (Not that much of a difference. Of course, the reason the drive takes me so long is that I park on the farthest spot on campus, so there's a healthy walk across campus that I quite enjoy)

All in all, it's a good challenge and one that I'm enjoying. I'm certainly enjoying using the bus time to read. And the best thing about this is that it's showing me that the better way can also be better for me too.

White & Nerdy

When I was younger and dreaming about what I wanted to be when I grew up, I often found myself wanting to grow up to be Weird Al Yankovic. I guess the only problem was that I never really grew up, I just got older . . .

Sigh. In the meantime, I can enjoy the fact that the man still has it when it comes to satire and parody. (That and the fact that he's released a rap song that finally speaks about my own lifestyle)

Please enjoy . . . White & Nerdy by Weird Al Yankovic.

HNT - TiT - The Great Train Escape

Terror in Toyland (TiT) - An HNT Adventure
by Mark Leslie

Continued from this post

"Okay," Mark finally said. "I have an idea."

"Great," Susie replied. "What is it?"

"An idea is any conception existing in the mind as a result of mental understanding, awareness, or activity."

"No, I know what an idea is. What is YOUR idea?"


Mark smiled. "I know, I was just trying to be funny. Why don't we hop the next passing train. That should take us out of here and hopefully out of the range of the Tater gang's laser shots."

"Great idea!" Susie said, and lept onto the nearest passing train.

Mark hopped on the car in front of her and they sped down the tracks.


"Woo hoo!" they both yelled out, the wind in their hair. (There was more of it, of course, in Susie's long flowing hair than there was in Mark's diminishing locks, but you get the point)

"This was a great idea!" Susie said. "You're a pretty cool dude."

"Thanks," Mark said, smiling.

Just then, the train headed up a steep hill and was heading towards a broken set of tracks that just ended in mid air.

"I take that back. This was a stupid idea," Susie said. "You're an idiot!"


"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" was all Mark said as the train started to plummet off the tracks.

To be continued . . .

Replication Theory

I've been enjoying watching the new reality show "On The Lot" which has a group of aspiring directors competing for a chance to win the opportunity to work with Steven Spielberg. I'd temporarily amused myself with the concept of applying and sending in a really goofy short film I shot back in the late 80's that I called "Tough Guys Big Adventure" (a spoof of Conan The Barbarian type adventures) which was followed by 4 sequels over the following 4 years).

Aw who knows, I might end up posting it on YouTube just for the fun of it.

But in any case, I've been enjoying watching the short films being produced for the show by some phenomenal young directors, and particularly enjoyed one by Sam Friedlander called "Replication Theory" - it's about farting, so those of you who don't like low-brow humour, don't bother watching.

Pop Goes The World

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm a real sucker for a cheesy romantic comedy. I mean, what other style of movie would a horror writer be a sucker for, right?

This past weekend, Francine and I rented the Hugh Grant/Drew Barrymore movie Music & Lyrics. Hugh Grant plays a washed-up 80's pop star living off his previously earned wealth and replaying all his old hit songs at school reunions, theme parks, and state fairs. He's given a chance at a real comeback by appearing on a new album with a contemporary hot young star, and ends up working with a character played by Drew Barrymore who has a previously untapped talent for composing lyrics.

The movie opens with a hilarious send-up to music videos from the 80's that has a real Wham! feel to it. (I mean, how much more obvious than the band name "Pop!" could you make the reference?) Early in the movie there's a scene which takes place at a high school reunion that is simply priceless. Francine and I were practically rolling off the couch because we were laughing so hard.

I'm sure the critics must have panned this movie, but we loved it. The plot, writing and direction was simple and economical yet perfectly effective. The characters stayed nicely within their alloted roles (ie, they didn't do anything stupidly outrageous and out of character just to get a cheap laugh) and the movie makes you feel good (as romantic comedies should). I'm sure that part of the reason I liked this movie was the examination of the creative process. But the overall film itself just sat well with me.

I highly recommend this movie to anyone who was a teenager in the 80's -- even if you don't like the story or plot (and there are many fun things to like about it, including the way it mocks the music industry -- both the industry of the 80's as well as the current state of it) you're likely to get enough enjoyment out of the whole nostalgic feel to that as well as the "reality TV" mentality" thing that's also joked about.

And yes, I'll also admit that while the music was also cheesy, it perfectly fit the mood of the movie (Grant and Barrymore actually did a good job of performing in their songs) and I want to hear the songs again. So I'm actually considering buying the sound track.

Okay, now that I've exercised my romantic comedy feelings it's time to go write a scary scene with monsters and blood and gore and stuff.

Monster Librarian

I was delighted to learn that my book One Hand Screaming was reviewed on the Monster Librarian website. The site exists for five main reasons (click here to read them), one of which is to help librarians and teachers help reluctant readers discover the joy of reading. I particularly like that they also exist to encourage fans to expand their interests beyond movies and television by introducing them to excellent fiction.

One Hand Screaming was reviewed in the "Something Different" area -- titles that don't quite fit into any of their other categories. I was pleased to see that reviewer Bret Jordan enjoyed the tales and that the book is listed with the "Recommended for public libraries" disclaimer.

Here are a couple of excerpts from the review that make nice blurb bites. Because, after all, an author can never look for enough nice blurb bites.

"This book is sure to capture the imagination of almost any reader."
- Bret Jordan, Monsterlibrarian.com

"The stories themselves are a unique blend of horrifying tales, with a twist of humor that provides an interesting contrast between screams and laughter."
- Bret Jordan, Monsterlibrarian.com

"Leslie's stories are . . . thought provoking in a way that in uncommon in many horror publications."
- Bret Jordan, Monsterlibrarian.com

HNT - TiT - Stalling

Terror in Toyland (TiT) - An HNT Adventure
by Mark Leslie

Continued from this post

"Oh no!" Mark said. "They're shooting at us!"

"Yeah, I know," Susie said. "You just said that."

"Aw, c'mon," Mark said. "I've got to repeat the last line from the previous episode, or at least paraphrase it to give the reader a chance to remember where this story last left off."

Susie grinned "Okay, but no more gimmicks for the rest of this post, okay?"


"Alright!" Mark tried to sound calm, but couldn't control the panic from his voice. "I can't take this any longer."

"What, the suspense of this awesome adventure?" Susie asked.

"No," Mark said. "The fact that this story is dragging along and we're still being shot at and haven't gotten to the next fun and exciting thing that's supposed to happen."

"Well, you're the writer." Susie said. "Why don't you write the next bit already?"

"I can't. I don't have any new images to go along with what's supposed to happen next. I mean, after all, I'm in Montreal right now, away from my camera, so I can't do any new poses, can't really advance the story that much."



"Excuses, excuses," Susie said. "Yet again, I need to save the day while you keep stalling. I can't believe I agreed to be a part of this silly mess you call a storyline. Here, I'm going to suddenly have the ability to deflect their shots and help us escape. Sound good?"

And then Susie jumped in front of the shots being fired at them and started deflecting the shots. "Okay, I'll deflect these shots, you figure out a way for us to escape."

"I'm still rather scared." Mark said, standing behind her frozen in fear.

"Oh man, you already used that picture of yourself you know . . . just figure out a way to escape already, okay."

"Escape the shots?"

"No, escape the stupid stalling of this storyline already!"

Will Susie and Mark escape the shots being fired at them?
Will Mark keep stalling the storyline?
Have you already given up on following this silly adventure?

To be continued . . .

Writing Stuff

Received some updates over the past several days regarding various writing related activities.

• The book NAKED TALES: STORIES BY WRITERS WHO BLOG (which will include the very first short story I published "The Progressive Sidetrack" -- a young adult humour tale in the vein of Ferris Bueller's Day Off) has been delayed a couple of months and should be out by mid to late summer.
• I had a story accepted to appear in the next issue of The Online Journal of Contemporary Horror: Dissections. This also is slated to be out some time in the summer.
  
• I've been accepted as an affiliate member of the Horror Writer's Association.
• The trio of authors (myself, Carol Weekes and Michael Kelly) appearing at Bakka-Phoenix books in Toronto on August 25th has grown to include Brett Alexander Savory and Sandra Kasturi. And THEN there were FIVE!

And, of course, I'm still struggling to finish the outline to the novelization of my online serial thriller "I, Death" as well as finish the first draft of "A Canadian Werewolf in New York."

No rest for the wicked.

Da Count - HNT

This past week, HNT (Half-Nekkid Thursday) celebrated a 2 year anniversary. As the lead of the whole HNT bloggy movement, Osbasso has helped cultivate a real sense of community.

Just to summarize for anyone who isn't familiar with the concept of Half-Nekkid Thursday it's basically a celebration of exposure. And exposure doesn't always mean flashing your naughty bits. Exposure could be as simple as a picture of your thumb or as intense as exposing a deep, heartfelt piece of your inner self. In many cases over the past few years, I've seen a very interesting mixture of all three -- sometimes all at the same time in a single post.

Through blogging I've met a lot of people and made many friends online. But HNT has helped introduce me to an incredible variety of people whom I am now privileged to be able to call friends. Within the realm of HNT, I've been able to expose some deeper thoughts and feelings, expose a little bit of my middle-aged man flesh (just enough to be risque, but not enough to turn most people's stomach), exercise some creative juices, do a little self-promotion for my own writing as well as the writing of others, and also be able to make up and tell some bizarre and silly stories.

So to Os, for championing the movement, and to my fellow HNTers, whether you've already retired from the weekly ritual, are still an active member, or just joined -- THANKS and Happy Anniversary.

HNT - TiT Outtakes 1 - Surk Marsie

If you came here hoping for the continued Darth Tater / Terror in Toyland HNT storyline, please pardon this minor diversion from the tale. The story will continue next week.

I had to take a moment and spotlight a behind the scenes look at the making of this series. I know that it's really hard to tell, but since Susie and I have never met, the magic of bringing us together for this storyline was actually created by Photoshop. Yes, yes, I know, it's hard to believe because the images are just so REAL looking.

But the truth is that it's all very carefully orchestrated special effects using photo enhancement.

To illustrate, I'm going to share a few of the outtake shots that ended up on the "cutting room floor" so to speak when my fingers slipped when trying to create those incredibly unbelieveable special effects used in this world-renowned HNT storyline.



And yes, though these photos look incredibly believable, please don't concern yourselves. There wasn't a freak accident where Susie and I exchanged heads. It was just a Photoshop slip-up.

Click the following links to read the entire HNT Terror in Toyland storyline so far, which WILL continue . . .

Episode One - A New Beginning

Episode Two - Surprise Attack

Episode Three - Shrinkage

Episode Four - Captured

Episode Five - Railroaded

Episode Six - Susie To The Rescue

Half-Nekkid Thursday is celebrating its 2nd Anniversary!
Two Years of Naked Thursdays! Happy Anniversary!
Click the image below to visit Os and learn more about HNT.

Another Triumph!

Last year the President's Choice product line released a wonderfully exciting barbecue sauce called Smokin' Stampede Beer & Chipotle Barbecue Sauce. It came in a generously sized 1 Litre bottle. None of this pint sized salad dressing sized sauce bottle. This was a real sauce lover's bottle of smokin' goodness. It had just the right combination of standard smoky barbecue flavour mixed in with chiptle (and, of course, beer)

This summer, they've released a follow up to what was a popular sauce. (Of course, like most fun flavours that are released to the masses and which have a nice hot kick to them, I find that I seem to be the only one who likes them and they disappear off the grocery store shelves shortly after appearing. Hmm, kind of like really cool television shows I like -- shows like Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip or Windfall or that wonderfully classic drama Manimal. No wait, I take that back. I just checked and it looks like Studio 60 is returning to NBC on May 24th. WOO HOO!)

Okay, a bit of a sidetrack there. Back to the sauce. Yes, this summer they've released a follow up sauce and added even MORE kick. They now have Smokin' Habanero Barbecue Sauce. Fran picked it up at the grocery store and I had it last night on chicken. It has the same standard underlying smoked BBQ flavour to it, yet this one has even more of a wonderful spicy punch.

I think I have a winner for what sauce I'll be using on the next Friday the 13th Hot Luck party we hold. This sauce is going to make some awesome ribs.

Bakka Event - 3 Horror Authors

I'm quite delighted to be participating in an event with two friends of mine (Carol Weekes and Michael Kelly) for an event at Bakka Phoenix books in Toronto on August 25, 2007.

We, will, of course, be flogging our books. Michael's excellent new short story collection Scratching The Surface, Carol's brilliant new novel Walter's Crossing and my old faithful One Hand Screaming.

I'm sure that Bakka Phoenix will also have copies of the anthology North of Infinity II which I've edited onhand.

But the exciting thing about the event, apart from the fact that I get to hang out with Carol and Michael again, is the fact that we are collaborating on a very special story that will be produced in chapbook format and available exclusively as a limited print run at Bakka Phoneix. It has been a long time since the three of us have collaborated on a writing project together and will be the first time that the three of us alone have produced something as a team effort. (The last time, we were three of a much longer string of writers working on a round robin story that was produced by Lone Wolf Publications on a CD-Rom anthology).

More Please!

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm a gushing parent. I'll make no bones about it. But dammit, my son is so damned adorable. I love the fact that when he's eating something (and the good news is that it's plenty of something's that he loves to eat right now) he often asks for more. There are times I'm inspired to write a story about a boy with a bottomless stomach when watching him polish off certain meals and continually ask for more. Who knows, maybe there's a cute kid's book in there rather than a horror tale of a child who ate the entire house around his parents.

I suppose the cutest thing about the way he asks is that he always says: "More please!"

I'm reminded of an old Libby's beans commercial from my youth that has a voice over talking about the product while the camera is aimed at a little boy adeptly working at finishing every single brown bean on his plate. As he finally finishes off the last one, he lifts his plate and says: "More beans please." No, not as planted in my memory as the Alphagetti Gobbler, but still a fun and cute commercial nonetheless.

Oh, and since I already gave the disclaimer about being such a proud, gushing father -- Alexander is waaaaaay more cute when HE does his "more please" shtick.