Latest Audiobook is Pure Paranoir Joy (FREEBIES available)

Well, it was pure paranoir joy for ME, anyway.

I am honored to announce that Mike Duran's The Ghost Box is now available as an audiobook, narrated by me. In fact, I've been contracted as the voice of Reagan Moon and company for book 2 in the series, Saint Death, as well.

The books follow paranormal tabloid reporter Moon as he discovers there is much more to his beloved Los Angeles -- and to the world itself -- than meets the eye. More than his skeptic mind wants to admit. And, worse than that, he learns he is to play a significant role in the events to come!

You can download the audiobook from Audible or iTunes.

I also happen to have some freebies to give away. I have up to five Audible vouchers for The Ghost Box, which I would love to give in exchange for a fair review on Audible.com. If you'd like a free copy, please send an email to r2streu (at) gmail (dot) com.

And enjoy!!

NaNoBlog: Day 2 -- No Rainouts For Writers

It is the evening of November 2nd, and most of my friends are watching baseball.

Most of my friends don't even like baseball.

Actually, most of my friends are lamenting the rain delay that is preventing them from watching baseball. They want to watch History Being Made. Hey, the Cubs might win. If they do, it will indeed be historical. Not, you know, Felix Baumgartner jumping from the stratosphere historical, but yeah, historical. I get it.

Growing up, I loved baseball. A deep part of me still loves baseball. I played baseball. I collected baseball cards. Even chewed the crappy gum. I rooted for the Tigers, even though they have never, within the span of my personal memory, not sucked. (Actually, that's not true. In 1987, they were pretty darned good. The one game I ever saw from inside Tiger Stadium, they beat the Angels.)

A big part of me wishes I had as much passion for the game as I did back then. That I wanted nothing more than to sit through this rain delay until the game resumed at 12:15 tomorrow morning and maybe watch the Cubs win the series for the first time in over a century. That I was on the phone with my Dad, both of us watching the field dry, talking about how, either way, this was one hell of a game.

Me? I wrote. I encouraged my kids to write. While the world focuses on the final game of the World Series (it IS the final game, right?), November 2 is, in my household, Day Two of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), and we've been focusing instead on our word count goals.

And while it's not a World Series Pennant, I'm pretty happy with our progress. Both my older children are participating this year, and so far our days one and two have actually been pretty similar. All three of us got off to a slow start on Day One -- something under 1% or so... and all three of us hauled today and landed very close to our daily word count average that will help us to hit our overall goals for the month. For me, doing the full NaNo experience, I'm shooting for 50,000 words by the end of November. My children, who haven't ever really written anything over 1,000 words, I talked them into putting themselves out there and shooting for 20,000.

And I'm pretty darned proud of 'em, because tomorrow, if things work out half as well as they did today, they'll be ahead of schedule.

And I'm happy to be here for them, encouraging them and coaxing them to victory. It may not make history, but it'll make a difference to them, and, really, that's all the history I need.

NaNoWriMo Day TWO WordCount
ME: 3348/50,000
Son: 1332/20,000
Daughter: 1133/20,000

NaNoWriMo: Here we go again!!!

Last year (or was it two years ago? I've already forgotten) I once again failed spectacularly to create a novel in one month. But -- and I say this knowing full well I say it every time -- this year will be different.

Actually, though, I have good reason to believe it really will. First, there's the issue of time. As in, this year, I actually have it. Being unemployed sucks, but if there's an upside for an aspiring novelist, time has to be the number one positive.

Secondly, I'm walking into this more prepared than I've ever been. I have stacks of notes. Pieces of unfinished works that'll be incorporated into this piece. An actual outline (that I'm still working on, but anticipate finishing before the 1st). And, for the first time ever, I even have a decent sense of what's going to happen in the middle of my story! (This last is of particular importance because I tend to love beginnings and endings, but middles always scare and confuse me. That's why I usually write short stories.)

Third, I have something to prove. And this year, I'm not just proving it to myself, but to my kids as well. I'm pleased to announce, my two 11-year-olds will be joining me in this year's NaNo, under the Young Writers Program! We'll be holding one another accountable, and if they're going to hit their 20k (that's the realistic goal we set together for them), I'm not going to let them down. I've promised them 50k, and that's what they're going to get.

And fourth, speaking of my kids, I have a deeper reason for writing this year. For the first time ever, I've decided to write something in the YA category because I want my children to have something to read that they'll enjoy, that fits their advanced reading level, and that I'd be happy to know they're reading. So this is for them. It's not about finishing my first novel. It's about creating a book that's good enough for their discerning tastes.

Now, last year, I promised and failed to deliver a NaNo live blog. I'm going to promise it this year, too... but this time, like the book, I'm going to deliver. Each night, as I update my wordcount for the day, I'll have something for you, here. Maybe a story excerpt. Maybe a tip I've stumbled across along the way. Maybe even a little something from my kids. Just hit the #NaNoWriMo label and subscribe to the blog.

Are YOU NaNo-ing this year? Tell me how YOU'RE going to accomplish your 50k in the comments!

A Bad Day

Today is... not a good day. It should be. I've finalized some contracts for freelance work. I've been on the phone with a new client talking about not only this current project but future work. I have paying clients. As a freelancer, I really ought to be very happy.

But I'm not. I have work to do today and haven't been able to bring myself to do it. I will. I'll force myself eventually. But for now, I keep watching television and telling myself I have things I need to be doing. The positive is: I've managed to finally admit to myself something I've been denying. It was easy to deny -- at first because of the sheer shock of being let go -- and later simply because keeping busy allowed me to keep it at bay. But the truth is, I'm depressed. And I'm angry. And the deeper, harder truth is, I have been this entire time. And the brave mask I've been putting on to lie to myself hasn't been any lighter for all that I've failed to notice it.

Truth is, I'm tired. I'm depressed and angry, and I'm tired of telling myself I'm not. It's shown up here and there. Little hints. Looking through the want ads and seeing jobs I've had and am perfectly capable of performing... and not being able to hit the "apply" button because part of me simply can't go back there. I don't want to work in retail again, or direct sales, or on a factory floor. I could. They're all good jobs, with great people working them. Probably even good companies to work for. But I can't. Because, the thing is, I want my job back.

That's what it comes down to. That's the depression and the anger I can't quite seem to shake: I want my old life back. The fact is, I've had dreams in which my boss came to see me, told me it was all a mistake, and that they needed me again, and I woke up happy at first, and then miserable, because I knew it could never happen that way.

But if it did.

The sad truth is, in spite of the anger, in spite of the confusion and hurt that came with my firing, if they called me and asked me back, I'd return in a second. I've said before I loved my job, and I did. I loved the people I worked with. I loved my listeners. I loved waking people up in the morning and being part of their day and knowing I was adding something to their lives. I loved it, and I miss it. 

And it still hurts. And it still makes me angry. And depressed. And now that I understand it, I hope like hell it goes away again soon.

Unemployment: The End Of Week 1

Last post, I was trying to explain the feeling of unemployment. To give a sense of the immediate personal aftermath and the frantic, hurry-up-and-wait pace of Day One survival mode. What I didn't mention, though, was perhaps the single most important piece of surviving unemployment: support.

When I called my wife, I had no idea what she would say. I knew she'd be sympathetic and loving, but as far as how she'd take the news? I hesitated calling her at work, but knew I didn't want to wait for her to come home tired, to a house full of kids, and then say, "oh, hey, by the way, I'm not going to work tomorrow. Or ever."  So, I dialed, she answered, I stalled with pleasantries, and then dropped the bombshell: "So, I guess I'm going to be looking for a new job..." and held my breath. Would she be frightened? Harried?

What she was, was amazing. "Well," she said after digesting the news, "now you have time to do what you've been wanting to do." And she was right. I could finish a novel, get my house in order and get my home studio ready, really dig into writing and producing my podcasts. We talked about earmarking money for studio equipment.

Yes, the reality is that I will probably, eventually have to get a real job, but even on that score she's 100% in my corner. More so than even I am at times. I told her if neither of these radio jobs I just applied for came through, I'd start looking at things like retail. I knew she'd be happy knowing I was making an effort to support the family. Her response: "We're doing okay. Use this time to find the right job. You belong in radio."

The point is, this could have been one of the worst weeks of my life. Should have been, to be honest. I hadn't only lost a job, but what was, really, the best job I'd ever have, working with the best co-workers I'd ever had, doing something I truly loved. Don't get me wrong: It hasn't been sunshine and pancakes, but my wife has made all the difference.

I've been in that other state of unemployment: That depressed, lethargic unemployment. This was several years ago, before any of my kids were born. I wasn't fired at that time -- I'd left a largely dead-end job to become a freelance videographer, and the truth was, there simply wasn't the work available to keep me afloat. Then, I felt like a failure. This time, what I feel is loved.


And not only by my wife and family, who are all wonderful. God has also blessed us with friends who would do anything for us, and that's a great feeling to have when you're vulnerable. When I announced my unemployment I had at least one offer of a guest room whenever we needed it. Countless invitations to "whatever we can do." I have friends in the industry searching their contacts.

I have support, and because I have support, I don't feel like I've failed. I don't believe it's hopeless. I know that, one way or another, my family and I are going to be okay.