#hoosier hysterical

[ozma914]

This is the tenth anniversary of one of my favorite blogs, and also of this one. I reran it a few years ago, but few people read it because it's about history. As I said in the opening to our book "Hoosier Hysterical", history would be a lot more fun if it was made ... well ... fun. So I had fun with this. (It's been changed slightly, because I'm older.)

            Ever since Christopher Columbus first landed in the New World and hid all the Viking artifacts, America has been a land of opportunity, independence, and smallpox.

            Eventually the British colonists decided to go off and form their own country. (Except for Canadians, who were too polite to leave.) Since our schools don’t teach enough history--there’s so much more of it now--here's a quick timeline of how we, the people, went from tea to coffee:

            1756: The French and Indian War

            This was probably the first World War. Seriously: Over here we just mention the French and Indians, but the rest of the world called it the Seven Years War. It spread all over the globe, like a viral YouTube video, but with more cannon fire and disease. Nations involved included Austria, England, France, Great Britain, Prussia, and Sweden. Oh, and the Indians, who had their own list of nations.

            (Later Prussia, not wanting to be confused with Russia, changed their name to Germany.)

            The war cost the British government so much, they began taxing the colonists to help pay for it. Yet they didn’t allow the colonies to raise their own armies, plus there was that whole taxation without representation thing.

            Oh, one more thing: The whole world war began (mostly) because a young Virginia militia leader ambushed a French scouting party in the far western wilderness … near Pittsburgh. In later years, George Washington would be more careful to start battles after war was declared.

            1770: The Boston Massacre:

            No, it wasn’t a sporting event. It started when a group of colonists began throwing snowballs at a squad of British soldiers (In Boston. Sheesh.). That’s not so bad, is it? Then the colonists starting tossing sticks and stones, which can indeed break bones.

            This is why you shouldn’t throw stuff at people with guns. Five colonists died and the soldiers were arrested, but they were mostly acquitted thanks to the crafty defense by a young lawyer names John Adams.

            1773: The Boston Tea Party

            Tired of high taxes, an unresponsive government, and Earl Gray, colonists (In Boston—sheesh) dressed up as Indians, sneaked aboard ships (In the harbor—sheesh), and tossed 342 chests of tea into the water. In today’s dollars, they turned Boston harbor into the world’s biggest cup, with $750,000 worth of tea. They were led, of course, by the famous Boston patriot Folger “Starbuck” Maxwell.

            But why blame the Indians? They didn’t even drink tea.

            1774: The First Continental Congress

            They didn’t get much done. But in their defense, they were a Congress.

            1775: Patrick Henry stirs the pot

            With the grievances of the colonists ignored by a remote government—sort of like today, only without Facebook—a radical named Patrick Henry, upset because he had two first names and no last one, began making fiery speeches and resolutions.

            The truth is, Henry was kind of a deadbeat. Worse, a lawyer. But man, he sure could talk good, and his actions helped ignite the American Revolution. You’ve probably heard one line of his big speech: “Give me liberty or give me death!” Luckily, he got liberty.

            1775: The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere.

            He rode through the countryside yelling, “The British are coming!”

            Sleepy residents yelled back, “Shut up, fool! We are the British!”

            Then he got arrested, probably for violating the noise ordinance, and the ride was completed by William Dawes. Unfortunately for Dawes, the name “Paul Revere” sounded better in poetry.

            Also 1775 (busy year, there): The Battle of Lexington and Concord

            Revere discovered the British were marching by sea, which slowed them down considerably because the horses didn’t swim well. That gave the Minutemen almost a full two minutes. It was plenty of time to gather in Lexington, to protect stores of arms and gunpowder, and Concord, to protect the grapes.

            1775 (saw that coming, didn’t you?): The Second Continental Congress

            Didn’t get much done. They made up for it in 1776, though.

            1775 or so: The Battle of Bunker Hill

            GPS misdirected the troops, who actually fought on Breeds Hill.

            177—wait for it—5: Patriots occupy Montreal, Canada

            Things were looking up, up there. And that’s the last time things looked up for the Revolutionaries in the north, who discovered Canadian hospitality didn’t extend to invasion.I wrote about both the American Revolution and Canadian hospitality in Hoosier Hysterical. Did you know Indiana was the location of the westernmost naval battle of the Revolution? You didn't? It's in the book. I'll go sulk, now.

            1776 (finally!) Egged on by the British, Cherokee Indians attack along the entire  frontier

            They were still upset about the whole Tea Party fraud. Also, they were mad about getting named for a country on the other side of the world.

            June 7, 1776: Richard Henry Lee reminds the Continental Congress that they’ve been rebelling for more than a year, and wouldn’t it be a good idea to actually declare themselves to be rebelling?

            June 11: Five Congressmen are appointed to draft a Declaration of Independence. The other four talk Thomas Jefferson into doing the writing, pointing out that he’s the only one who’s invented a portable desk, and they left theirs at home.

            June 12-27: Jefferson writes a rough draft, only to receive a rejection letter from the committee.

July 1-4: The entire Congress rips apart the Declaration. (Not literally. Sheesh.) Jefferson quits writing and goes into politics.

July 2: Congress declares independence, just as the British fleet and army arrive to invade New York. Talk about timing. John Adams declares that July 2 will forever be celebrated as Independence Day.

July 4: Having already declared independence, Congress now adopts the Declaration of Independence, declaring something they’ve already declared. John Adams’ head explodes.

July 9: George Washington has the Declaration read before the American army. The soldiers nod politely and ask when they’re going to get paid.

There was much more to it, of course. In fact, you could say the American Revolution went on until the US Constitution was adopted in 1788, or even until we fought the second Revolutionary war in 1812, which might also be related to the real second World War.

Now, that’s a funny story.

What's that, you ask? Why yes, of course you can celebrate July 4th, or any date, by buying Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hoosier-hysterical-emily-hunter/1123866879

[news247planet]

#Former #Indiana #Basketball Former Indiana Coach Hysterically Mocks Kamala's Cringe Basketball Speech https://news247planet.com/?p=227064

[newswireml]

Former Indiana Coach Hysterically Mocks Kamala's Cringe Basketball Speech – RedState#Indiana #Coach #Hysterically #Mocks #Kamalas #Cringe #Basketball #Speech #RedState

He’s a former player, an assistant coach, a one-time interim head coach for the Indiana University Hoosiers, a former head coach at Bowling Green State University, and now a radio host for OutKick. His name is Dan Dakich, and he is one outspoken and funny man. Both those attributes are increasingly rare in the world of today’s sports journalism, where often the scores and gameplay are buried…

[panevanbuckley]

ok so because we are basically living in a dystopian world rn, I can't stop thinking about what Team Leckie would be like in either a Maze Runner like situation or the Hunger Games. So that's how my day is going :))))

I just had to put my cup of tea down and stare at this for a moment because holy fUCK 😱 Combining the maze runner with team leckie is too perfect oh gods...I actually need this au in my life now!!

[inglourious-imagines]

Shirt Incident

William Hoosier Smith x GN!Reader

Requested by: @alienoresimagines - Could you write 105. Is that my shirt? with the love of my life Hoosier Smith and a gender neutral reader if that isn't too much of a bother please? ❤ As always, completely okay not to write it! 💛

Warnings: smoking, war, some f words

Prompt: Is that my shirt?

Summary: It is said among the Marines that Hoosier has a crush on you. You decide to test the theory.

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @teenmagazines @meteora-fc @eugenesmorphine @band-of-brothers-cz @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @rayofshanshine @mavysnavy @easynix @georgeluzwarmhugs @easy-company-tradition @immrsronaldspeirs @snafus-peckuh @curraheewestandalone @warrior-healer @justamadgirlinabox @order-of-river-phoenix @whoahersheybars

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.

.

The weather was slowly beginning to be absolutely unbearable. There probably wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t covered in sweat. Your mind was clouded by the thought of the cooling ocean that could provide at least a temporary relief from the never-ending heat. You most probably would be in the water already if you were actually back home in the States but the heavy Thompson on your shoulder was constantly reminding you otherwise, that you were still very much in the middle of the Pacific killing for peace.

Well, that and the constantly annoyed voice of Chuckler who complained about the weather three times minimum every five minutes. At least you suffered in silence.

“No need to point out our miserable conditions anymore, Chuckler,” you finally snapped but your voice had a bit of a playful tone into it, so your friend knew it’s nothing personal. You all were in a crappy mood, feeling horrible.

“Hoosier looked way too comfortable over there,” Chucker grinned at you, “simply had to remind him what a wonderful situation we find ourselves in.”

Hoosier shot him a fake smile in response and then got back to his cigarette. Even he was too tired to actually think of some sarcastic remark to retort with.

You shook your head, laughing. “Maybe you need to remind him some more.”

Runner next to you leaned back in laughter, always enjoying when you teased the poor man from Indiana, Loogootee. Which you did quite often. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you enjoyed teasing Hoosier more than you probably should and from a whole lot different reason than Runner.

Chuckler nodded in anticipation. “Maybe we should take our shirts off, what do you say, Y/N?”

His words took you by surprise – you almost choked on your own cigarette – as he took it to a completely new level.

“God, Juergens,” Leckie joined, his typical smirk lightening up his tired face, “no one wants to see that. Unless Y/N really joins in so then I’ll have something to focus on.”

Your cheeks blushed at Bob’s comment as you just rolled your eyes to appear not so flattered by his words. You knew perfectly well why the boys were being so flirtatious all of a sudden. Leckie about a week ago pointed out to you so convincingly that Hoosier has this enormous crush on you. At first, you began to laugh hysterically, thinking it was one of Bob’s classic jokes but when his face remained serious, you gave him a funny look.

“Hoosier? The Hoosier? On me? Bob, the heat is making you imagine things.”

But he simply just shook his head, his voice perfectly calm and quite convincing. “Y/N, I might be a bit stupid sometimes but I’m not blind. And given the fact that we’re in the middle of this fucking war, I think it’d just be nice to have someone by your side.”

You never heard Robert Leckie sound so serious and sincere before.

“I have you guys,” you tried to discourage him once more from his theory, which was actually more of a fact, but you hadn’t known that yet. He patted your shoulder and with a quick ‘think about it’ he disappeared from your sight, his words still echoing in your head.

That was seven days ago.

Leckie must had made a pact with Runner, or so you thought, because he approached you three days ago at lunch and the conversation was pretty much the same one like you had with Bob. Apparently, there was even a bet in the company on what’s going to happen first: Hooser finally making a move or you actually realizing the real deal.

“The whole fucking company?” you exclaimed once Runner finished justifying his and Bob’s theory.

“Yep!” he grinned, “even the officers.”

“Oh God,” you groaned, your head falling into your hands.

***

Ever since those two encounters, there was almost nothing else on your mind than Hoosier. You were seeing his stupid face everywhere. What had happened to you? A week ago, you were okay, and Hoosier was just a fellow soldier. Now he was Hoosier.

Damn Bob and Runner, you were sure that this change in thinking was their intention all along.

This went on for a couple of days until you just couldn’t bare it anymore, so you decided to give the men what they wanted and finally test the ridiculous theory yourself. You tried to not make it a big deal, you really did, you were trying to convince yourself that it was a mere distraction from the war but none of it slowed down your racing heart or stopped your trembling hands.

***

When the company was finally granted some very much needed relax time and was taken back from the front lines for a couple of days, you decided to take action. It was a ridiculous plan, stupid really, but if there was something you learned from your friends’ relationships before the war, it was wearing the clothes of your other half. It usually worked in 9 cases out of 10.

You stole one of Hoosier’s army shirts that was for whatever reasons his favourite, so you knew he’d be able to recognize it. Sneaking your way around the camp, you reached the destination where the provisional showers were built.

William Hoosier Smith, the game is on.

The company was watching a movie outside that night – a perfect opportunity. You walked out of the showers, finally feeling fresh and clean in weeks. Plus, the comfort of new clothes on your skin, Hoosier’s clothes, was quite something you weren’t able to describe. It almost felt like being born again.

But only this time it was better, your body shook with anticipation, a grin on your face and a slight blush on your cheeks. This was it, no going back now. You thanked the God that your friends chose their seating place far right, so you didn’t have to make your way through the whole goddamn Company, grabbing everyone’s attention.

Sitting down next to Hoosier and casually lighting your cigarette proved like one of the hardest things to do when wearing this man’s clothes. You were both scared and excited at once, dreading the outcome of your little game as well as welcoming it with open arms.

At first, nothing happened, the boys seemed to be too pulled into the movie to pay attention to anything else, your cigarette for nervousness long gone.

Until Hoosier turned his head to you, you felt his eyes looking you up and down, sending you shivers down your spine.

You didn’t know where the sudden courage was coming from, but you leaned dangerously close to him, whispering, “Is there a problem?”

Hoosier swallowed, taking a drag from his cigarette. He didn’t answer right away, instead a smirk slowly appeared on his face.

“Is that my shirt?”

You knew the question was coming, hell you even prepared possible answers, but it was as if all of them vaporized in the air and your mind was left blank.

You turned your whole body to Hoosier, finally realizing the tense atmosphere between you two.

“Is it?” you tried your best to sound as innocent as possible, “sorry, my bad. Do you want it back?”

Hoosier seemed taken back by your words but only for a fraction of a second, his confident and a bit cocky self was back. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

Your cheeks heating up, you moved closer even more and reached for his cigarette that was hanging from his lips. You slowly took it into your fingers, taking a drag and blowing a puff of smoke into the air. Hoosier’s eyes were fixated on your every move, and you knew you succeeded.

“You might want to follow me, Private Smith.”

“Count on it, Ma’am.”

Maybe Leckie was right, maybe having someone by your side was all you needed to make it through the war. You hadn’t known it back then, when Hoosier was following you in the night, you hadn’t known it the day after, or in a week or a month, but ever since the shirt incident Hoosier had always been there, always by your side, and it was only after the war ended, on the ship home, when you finally realized that the someone Leckie was talking about two years ago was William Smith.

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 5: The Tell (Part One)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

P.S. Stiles and Y/N have a sleepover (things are happening!!) and Jackson just got on the struggle bus.

                                                    ----------------

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down.” I sat forward in the passenger seat and put a calming hand on Allison’s arm. 

She took a deep breath and slowly relaxed her iron grip on the steering wheel. If she kept freaking out the way she was, we’d be laying in a ditch instead of making it to school.

“I’m telling you, Y/N. Something is really not right.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, clearly very upset. 

“Just...start over.” I shook my head, not even clear about what she was trying to tell me.

She let out a slow sigh. “Last night, I found broken glass on the window of my aunt’s car.”

“Okay?” I prodded, glancing at the road to make sure she was driving straight again. 

“So they both lied! My dad said she needed a jump, and she said she ran out of gas. Clearly something else happened if her window was broken. But...that isn't even the worst part.”

I nodded encouragingly so she would continue. She needed to just spit it out already. I really wanted to know if this freak out was supernatural related or not. After helping save Derek’s life and learning that the Argents are werewolf hunters, it was hard for me to believe that anything in this town wasn't supernatural related. 

“I heard her and my dad talking.” Her knuckles turned white again as her grip tightened on the wheel. “She said she was attacked by something. And...and that she shot Derek Hale.”

I choked on my own spit and began coughing aggressively, but she didn't seem to notice beyond her growing hysterics. 

“They were talking about packs, and an alpha, and some code...and I sound crazy, don't I?” Tears were streaming down her face now and my chest tightened uncomfortably. 

I wanted to tell her everything. She was so close to figuring it out on her own, anyway, but Scott and Stiles had made me swear not to tell anyone the things I’d learned. I knew it would be dangerous for Scott, but what about Allison? She was caught up in this too, she just had no idea. How would she protect herself if she didn't even know what was going on half the time?

“Hey, no, no. You don't sound crazy at all.” I soothed, placing my hand back on her arm. She let out a quiet sob and sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “That’s definitely weird. What do you think it means?”

She threw her hands up, suddenly angry. The tears were gone. “I don't know.” She looked my way, determination swimming behind her eyes. “But I’m going to find out.”

                                                      -----------------

“Hoosiers is not only the best basketball movie ever, it’s the best sports movie ever made.”

“No.”

“It’s got Gene Hackman and Dennis Hopper.”

“No.”

“Lydia, I swear to God, you’re gonna like it!”

“No.”

“I am not watching The Notebook again.”

The car fell into silence. I just rolled my eyes at Jackson and Lydia’s bickering. It was all you could do, really. The two of them fought so much, I was honestly surprised they were still together. They had quite possibly the most toxic relationship I’d ever seen. 

Lydia turned and looked at him expectantly, and he folded. Like he always did. Allison snickered from beside me, enjoying his pain way too much. It was bad enough the poor guy had to have a movie night with his girlfriend and her two best friends. The least we could do was pick a movie everyone would enjoy.

He moved to get out of the car, and a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I clutched at my stomach and winced. 

“You okay?” Allison turned to me, her brow furrowing in concern. 

As he walked toward the store, my uneasy feeling only got worse. I knew I had to go with him, or something terrible was going to happen. 

“I’m gonna go help him.” I huffed and popped my door open. 

Lydia rolled her eyes and pulled her phone out, opening the camera to take selfies under the florescent lights. “Suit yourself.”

Once inside, Jackson and I walked through the narrow isles. The shelves were small, only coming up to my shoulder, so we got a clear view of the entire store. It was completely deserted, which only added to my anxiety. It was a week night, sure, but there was no way we should be the only people in here. 

“Can someone help me find The Notebook?” Jackson called, only to be met with eerie silence. “Hello?”

“Is anybody even working here?” I asked, my eyes shifting up to one of the lights that was flickering above us. There was a ladder beneath it, suggesting that someone was here at one point. On the other side of the store, the phone began ringing. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Jackson muttered, clearly annoyed by the whole situation. 

I got the impression that he wasn’t picking up the weird energy in here the way I was. Something just wasn't right. I could feel it. 

Just then, I caught sight of a pair of shoes at the end of an isle in front of us. But they weren't standing there browsing like us. No, they were laying down, almost as if they were...

“Jackson.” I breathed, and he stopped beside me. “We should go.”

He just scoffed and continued walking. “You know Lydia will kill me if I don't get this movie.”

I couldn't take my eyes off the shoes. My heart began racing in my chest. He seemed to finally take notice as his quick steps faltered.

“What the hell is that?” He kept moving toward it, so I had no choice but to follow. 

I didn't want to be alone in here, even if he was only a few feet away. I shuffled close to his back and peered around his shoulder as we approached the shoes. A gasp tore through me as the sight of a dead man came into view. He was slumped over against the shelf, his throat slashed open. Blood coated every nearby surface. I staggered back a step, horrified. 

Jackson did the same, accidentally knocking over the ladder that was just behind him. The lights flickered and sparks shot out of the ceiling panel as the whole thing came crashing down. A deep, animalistic growl sounded from the other end of the store and we both froze. 

We weren't alone. 

We shared a wide-eyed look, both of our breathing labored. I turned and, through the darkness, saw two glowing red eyes. The thing growled again and I shoved Jackson behind a nearby shelf, choosing the one next to it for myself. I pressed my back against the hard surface, trying to slow my rapid breathing. This was so not the time to have a panic attack. 

Jackson’s terrified eyes met mine before he slowly leaned around to see what was going on. At the sound of shuffling, he whipped back into place. I swallowed thickly, my body beginning to tremble with fear. A few movies were knocked off a nearby shelf and I stiffened. It was close.

Then, each shelf in the line Jackson was hiding in began tumbling down. I called his name in a panic, but it was too late. Within seconds, he was trapped beneath the heavy pile. He tried to jump out of the way, so only his lower half ended up caught. But he still couldn't move. 

He struggled for a few seconds before I stood to help. At the sound of heavy breathing, I froze. I was completely paralyzed by fear. I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to. All I could do was watch as the most terrifying monster I’d ever seen hovered over him. 

It was all black, and huge. It looked like it was covered in fur, but I couldn't see very well under the low lighting. It huffed out harsh breaths as it inspected Jackson, it’s head tilting back and forth as it did. It had a long snout, like a dog, and razor sharp teeth. It lifted a giant paw and delicately peeled back the collar of Jackson’s leather jacket with its long claws. It’s head lifted slowly, it’s bright red eyes locking on mine. 

And then, it was gone. It bolted toward the entrance and jumped through one of the windows, which shattered instantly. A high pitched scream echoed through the night as the thing fled the scene. 

I jumped to my feet to help Jackson, who seemed frozen in shock. He had no idea what the hell just happened, but I had a guess.

It was the alpha. It had to be.

                                                   ------------------

I sat beside Lydia, my arm wrapped around her shoulders comfortingly. She was still shaking twenty minutes later. After the alpha ran off, she and Allison had come barreling into the store. They saw the dead body, rightfully freaked out, and helped me free Jackson. 

An ambulance arrived shortly after, which is where we all sat now. I was shaken up, yes, but I more so just wanted my questions answered. I wanted to know who the alpha was, and why they were running around murdering innocent people in Beacon Hills.

Sirens sounded close by and the Sheriff’s car pulled up. My eyes instantly found Stiles through the passenger window. His lips parted in shock and he moved to take his seatbelt off, but his dad put an arm across his chest. He said something, and Stiles sagged against his seat looking defeated. 

As soon as the Sheriff stepped out, he practically smooshed his face against the window to get a closer look at the scene. 

“Paul, let’s get this area locked up.” The Sheriff called, putting on a pair of back gloves as he walked our way. 

A crowd had gathered, too, which only raised my anxiety. There was a chance the alpha could come back, and I didn't think it would stop at just one victim this time. 

“Why the hell can’t I just go home? I’m fine.” Jackson barked at Sheriff Stilinski the second he joined us. 

“I hear ya, but the EMT says you hit your head pretty hard. They just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion.” The Sheriff tried to reason with him, something I’d learned was almost always a losing effort. 

“What part of I’m fine are you not grasping? Okay? I want to go home.” Jackson took a step into his personal space and raised his voice. 

Lydia frowned and laid her head into my chest, so I pulled her in tighter. The small glimpse she’d gotten of the alpha had really scared her, and now Jackson was making it worse by refusing to cooperate.

“And I understand—”

“No, you don't understand!” Jackson only got louder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stiles slowly getting out of his dads car. “Which kind of blows my mind because it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum wage rent-a-cop like you! Now, I want to go home!”

A beat of tense silence passed before two paramedics rolled a gurney out of the store. I grimaced, knowing exactly what was under the white sheet. 

“Oh, whoa! Is that a dead body?” Stiles called, drawing everyone’s attention to him. 

His dad sent him a disappointed glare and he awkwardly slithered back into the car, his cheeks turning pink.

“Everybody back up.” The Sheriff sighed. “Back up.”

                                                   ------------------

I turned onto my right side, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. With a huff, I flipped onto my back and tugged my blanket over my head. I forced my eyes to remain closed despite the horrible images flashing behind them. I’d been trying to sleep for hours, but I couldn't stop thinking about the alpha. 

I’d been so close to dying. I mean, it had looked right at me. But it didn't hurt me or Jackson. I wanted to know why. It didn't make any sense. The thing hadn't hesitated to kill the movie store employee, so why let us go?

I froze as the sound of rustling outside my window caught my attention. Slowly, I lowered the blanket and swept my eyes across the room. I was still alone. I was completely alone, actually. Mom was working the night shift again. I chewed on my bottom lip as I realized I still hadn't told her what happened. What would I even say?

Hey, mom. I ran into a homicidal werewolf tonight, but it’s all good. It let me go for some reason.

She would definitely make us move again, and I couldn't let that happen. I was starting to really like it here, despite the weird and dangerous situations I kept getting thrown into. 

Just then, my window was shoved open and something thumped to the hardwood floors. I bolted upright and shoved my back against my bedroom wall, trying to get as far away from whatever it was as possible. My breath hitched and my throat constricted painfully. 

My mind was racing. It could be the alpha coming back to kill me, or a random burglar, or maybe something worse. The thing moved around on my floor with a groan. 

With trembling fingers I fished for my phone in my heap of blankets. Once I found it, I slowly turned the flashlight on, making sure it wasn't visible yet. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the worst before jerking it upward. 

A scream tore through me as the light illuminated a very startled looking Stiles, who was standing at the edge of my bed. He squinted and covered his eyes before smiling sheepishly. I put a hand on my chest and let my phone fall onto the bed. My heart was still pounding as I leaned across my mattress to flick on the lamp. 

“God, Stiles. What the hell are you doing?” My voice sounded angry and breathless, even to my own ears. 

He played with his fingers and raised his eyebrows. “Checking on you.” 

A few beats of silence passed between us, and I realized that tears had gathered in my eyes. That was so unnecessarily terrifying. 

“In the middle of the night.” I deadpanned, trying to calm my racing heart. 

“Yeah.” He smiled his charming lopsided smile, as if he didn't realize how that was so majorly not okay. 

“You can’t just sneak into my house to check on me.” I insisted, despite the way my chest swelled at the thought of him worrying about me. 

“Well, I couldn't just knock. It's the middle of the night.” He chuckled quietly at his own joke. 

I sent him a glare and an unwanted tear escaped the corner of my eye. I internally cursed myself for not wiping them away earlier. His face softened at the sight and I looked away from him, embarrassed. He quickly closed the distance between us, kneeling on my bed with one knee. 

“Hey, I’m sorry.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he cupped my cheek and caught my tear with his thumb. “I wasn't thinking. I’ll go.”

My hand wrapped around his wrist before he could fully pull away. “Will you stay?” 

Now that he was here, I realized how much I didn't want to be alone right now. My overaction just now showed me how much I was actually worked up over this whole thing. I’d pushed it away earlier, but I was still really scared. 

Stiles nodded with a small smile. His warm caramel eyes flickered over my face and he cleared his throat before releasing his hold on me and pushing himself up off my bed. He rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly and glanced around my room. 

I chewed on my bottom lip and fiddled with the blankets at my waist. “You can sit, you know.”

His eyes widened. “Uh. Yeah. I was just, you know...um.”

“Relax, Stilinski. I’m not gonna take advantage of you.” I rolled my eyes with a chuckle. I’d never seen him so uncomfortable. 

“Right. Obviously. Okay. Um...how do you...where should I...?” He scratched at the side of his head and didn't look any closer to moving, so I grabbed one of his hands and pulled him down.

He flailed at the unexpected movement and flopped onto the bed next to me. He scrambled up instantly and pushed his back up against my headboard. He sat there, stiff as a board, his legs crossed and his hands at his sides. 

I laughed at his frenzied state. “You’re the one that climbed into my window. Why are you being such a spaz?”

“I didn’t think I’d get this far.” He muttered and started playing with his hands again. “I’ve never, uh...been in a girls bed before.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. He was an attractive guy, so I found that a little hard to believe. “Seriously?”

“Yes, I know. My lack of sexual experience is laughable.” He finally looked at me and rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

I shifted into a more comfortable position, letting my legs stretch out in front of me. I leaned back on my hands, now facing Stiles. Our feet were almost touching. 

“It’s not that. I haven’t either. Been in a guys bed, I mean.” I stammered, suddenly feeling nervous. I hadn't been alone with a guy in a long time. And it was Stiles. He always made me just a little flustered. 

His gaze lifted from his hands slowly, his eyes moving across my legs, then my torso, before finally stopping on my face. I swallowed under his intense stare, unable to look away from his eyes. They were so beautiful, and expressive. When he was happy, they shimmered with a light honey color. If he was scared or angry, they dulled just a little into more of a burnt caramel. Right now there was an unreadable emotion swirling in them. 

I decided to go out on a limb. “Have you ever...kissed a girl?”

I watched his breath catch in his throat as his lips parted. He stammered, looking shocked by my question, and I could’ve sworn he started hyperventilating. “A c-couple.”

“Then you’re not a lost cause.” I sighed. That meant he had me beat. I’d never stayed in one place long enough to have a boyfriend. I hadn't even had my first kiss yet. It was pretty pathetic, actually. 

“Have you?” He asked, sounding breathless. 

I chuckled, deciding it couldn't hurt to mess with him a bit. “Kissed a girl?” 

His cocked his head in annoyance and looked at me expectantly. 

“Um.” I was back to chewing on my lip uncomfortably. “No. I haven't.”

“Nice.” He let out a relieved huff with a small smile, but backtracked at the sight of my glare. “I mean, it’s just good to know I’m not the only one who sucks at that stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

Feeling a sudden wave of tiredness wash over me, I pushed myself up onto my knees and leaned across the bed to flick my light off. I realized too late, after my arm was already outstretched toward the switch, that I had gotten myself way too close to Stiles. Our faces were only inches apart, and I was practically sitting on top of him. 

His throat bobbed as he gulped. His eyes trailed over my form slowly, starting with my bare legs that rested on either side of his. Oh yeah, I’d completely forgotten that I was only wearing an oversized t-shirt. Up until now, my lower half had been covered up by my blankets, but they’d fallen away when I moved. 

Stiles’ eyes met mine and my breath caught. I only had a split second to study the mix of emotions in them before he glanced down at my lips. 

Oh, God. Is this really about to happen?

My eyes fluttered shut as we inched closer together. I wasn't even trying to. It was like my body had developed a mind of it’s own. His nose brushed against mine, then his lips in a feather light touch, just as thunder suddenly cracked in the distance. 

We bolted away from each other, both breathing heavily. We shared a long, wide-eyed look while trying to collect ourselves. 

“Um—” I started, my heart going right back to beating erratically. 

I can’t believe I just almost kissed Stiles. My friend. What the hell am I thinking?

“I...” He looked petrified by what had just happened. His eyes were wide and his whole face was beet red.  

“Sorry.” We both muttered in unison. 

A long beat of silence passed between us, and I cleared my throat, feeling incredibly awkward.

“That was...um...”

“I can go.” Stiles interrupted, but didn't move a muscle. “If you want.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, surely about to break the skin this time, and shook my head. I still didn't want to be alone. “It’s okay. Just turn off the light.”

He nodded in understanding and complied, blanketing us in darkness instantly. I crawled beneath my comforter, silently offering him to do the same. Within minutes I was fast asleep, surprised by how peaceful it felt to lay beside him. 

And, for the first time since moving here, I didn't have a single dream. 

Episode 4       Episode 5, Part Two

[thoughpoppiesblow]

16, 17, and 24 for the hbowar asks?! hope you have a wonderful day/evening or whatever's applicable where you are!

16. A Band of Brothers scene that made you laugh.

Luz getting bitch slapped for harassing a random German girl 😂

17. A The Pacific scene that made you laugh.

The sledgehammer/little hammer scene made me die 😂 I was hysterically cackling

Also when they sing “how fucked are you now”

24. Your brOTPs, if you have any.

Leckie, Runner, Chuckler, and Hoosier because their friendship give me LIFE and the officer trio from BoB

[HBO War Asks]

[coolsandy8800]

Bob Knight and Indiana make up, but many college basketball grudges remain - ESPN

Bob Knight and Indiana make up, but many college basketball grudges remain – ESPN

Bob Knight and Indiana make up, but many college basketball grudges remain  ESPN

Bittersweet reunion at Indiana: ‘That’s not the Bob Knight I know’  USA TODAY

Hoosier Hysterics Podcast — Pat Knight  247Sports

Insider: What was Bob Knight’s return like? I don’t think I’ll see anything like it again  IndyStar

Indiana Basketball: 3 ways to jumpstart the offense  Hoosier State of Mind

View full…

[ozma914]

The State of My Writing Career

 I used to be a submitting machine ... but now I'm tired.

If a writer wants to be traditionally published, they must submit. Their short stories, novels, non-fiction books, must go out to those publications that accept un-agented submissions, or they must go through literary agents for the other publications. (Independent publishing is a different animal, which some writers swear by to bypass traditional gatekeepers.)

I have an Excel file I've used to track my submissions since 2009. (!) It has 418 entries. Some of those resulted in request for further materials, such as a synopsis and opening chapter that led to an agent wanting to read the entire manuscript. A very few led to publication.

In 2022 I submitted to magazines, agents, and book publishers 77 times. In 2023 I only made 45 submissions, and so far in 2024--zero.

What went wrong?

There are always distractions. This distraction lives next door, and likes to have her belly rubbed.

What went wrong is what went right: I got a "yes", and was contracted to write a book. It took me a year, during which time I was too busy to worry about my other projects. Now it's time to play catch up.

That stranded a lot of material, just waiting to go back into the wild, cruel publishing world. On the other hand, I have the advantage of considering most of it fair game again: If no one I submitted to has expressed interest for over a year, chances are pretty good I can move on. That includes, sadly, a couple of exciting requests for fulls.

So I have six completed short stories ready to go out. I'll probably polish them, and everything else, one more time before submitting, since they've grown "cold" and I can look at them with a more objective eye.

I'd really like to see all this done before I grow cold.

I have six completed novel manuscripts, and two more that need revisions before they're ready. Oh, and a novella: a Storm Chaser prequel that promises to be a lot of fun.

I have two books, one fiction and one non-fiction, that I started on and need to finish.

Then there's my sudden realization the other day that the nation's 250th anniversary is coming up in just a couple of years, and that might present the perfect opportunity for a Hoosier Hysterical sequel.

I'm thinking "Hoosier Hysterical II: Hoosier Hystericaller". No?

This is why sometimes it frustrates me that I could have retired from my full time job two years ago, but can't afford to. Imagine what progress I could make if I sold enough books to write full time!

Well, I guess that's what promotion and publicity are for. They're next on the list.

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

Remember: Every time you buy a book, you encourage an author to write another one. Enable those poor people.

[news247planet]

#Former #Indiana #Basketball Former Indiana Coach Hysterically Mocks Kamala's Cringe Basketball Speech https://news247planet.com/?p=227064

[dmyatesweaver]

Guest Post Author and Humorist Mark R Hunter

Guest Post Author and Humorist Mark R Hunter

I mentioned that I’m spending this week spotlighting authors and having guest posts. Well, today is one of my favorite authors and friends, Mark R Hunter. I’ve known Mark for many years through author groups and really enjoy his friendship. He has a quick wit and is a talented author. I’ve read his Romance books and they’re on my ‘favorite reads’ shelf.

Mark sent me three guest posts to choose…

[ozma914]

Never mind how much a book is worth to you; how much is an author worth to you?

After all, a book is only a shaving off a tree, or a little blip of electricity. An author, on the other hand, is a living being who needs not only reviews and sales, but also coffee (or in my case tea), food, electricity, and occasionally a new laptop. My wife bought me a keyboard that feels and sounds just like a typewriter: It brings me great joy, but also cost about a month's worth of book sales.

Not that it was expensive, I just don't sell that many books.

Desks, computers, chairs, swords ... writing can be expensive.

How much a reader should pay for a book is a question that's been debated since Gutenberg bought too much ink and ran his first Black Friday sale. Among other things, it depends on your level of fame. The ebook edition of Stephen King's newest book is priced at $14.99, more than some of my print books. Our traditional publisher has our photo-heavy history book Images of America: Albion and Noble County priced at $12.99 as an ebook, and another publisher has my romantic comedy Radio Red at $3.99.

Guess how many books King sells, compared to me? Yep: The answer is "lots".

We do better with our self-published books, which run from 99 cents to $2.99 as ebooks. Fun fact: Some readers refuse to buy 99 cent books, assuming at that price they can't be any good. This assumption is both foolish and wrong. I suspect that price is often an act of desperation by good writers.

On the other end of it, Hoosier Hysterical has lots of pictures, and we can't sell it at less than $2.99 without losing money. That's the best we can do without just giving it away. Hold that thought.

No matter what the price, it's hard for lesser known authors to get into brick and mortar stores.

So, ten or twelve bucks for an electronic book. Crazy expensive, right? I mean, we don't have to pay for paper, ink, shipping ... how greedy can we be?

But how much is an author worth?

Three times I've written the rough draft of a book in thirty days. That's great, but it took a few weeks to prepare for the writing, then a month or two after to revise it before the story was decent enough for my wife to read. Then there's the revision after she returns it to me. The month of actual writing, when I push it hard, consists of working my full time job, writing, eating while writing, and nothing else. Some people can get books out the door faster, but I have to think they don't have full time jobs.

The old joke: An author can't make enough money to write full time until he's written and sold enough books, which he can't do until he writes full time.

So it goes.

So, a dollar for something it took me at least three months to produce, not including all the time spent on promotion and advertising? Writers are worth more than that. Even me.

Which brings us to giving books away for free.

Some authors swear that giving their ebooks away gets them so much attention that people come back and buy their other books, thus advancing their career in the long run. That seems to work for them, but it's not been my experience. Just the same, every July for the last few years I've entered the one novel I have up on Smashwords, Coming Attractions, into the Smashwords Summer/Winter sale.

Has it resulted in more readers for the other books? Not that I've noticed. It doesn't even lead to that many readers picking it up for free. Smashwords has a lot of authors, so my deal has to fight for attention with all those other deals. On the other hand, my sales aren't great in July to begin with, and it doesn't seem to be doing me any harm, either.

I'm curious how you, both the reader and the writer, feel on the subject. Maybe I'll try other giveaways at some point, even though I don't think authors should have to do that. I also don't think authors should have to spend so much time promoting and advertising, but welcome to the real world. How do you feel on the subject?

Oh, and Coming Attractions is free here:

But you already knew that.

Summer themed. Well, kinda.

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

Remember: Every time you get a book for free, it counts as a free book.

[ozma914]

A Day at Summit Lake State Park

 Just some photos of Summit Lake State Park, from where Emily and I watched the eclipse in April (which I'd imagine most people have already forgotten about). It's more or less in east-central Indiana, about a two hour drive from where we live. The park, not the eclipse.

There is, not surprisingly, a lake. Fishing, kayaking, swimming, the whole enchilada. There's probably someplace close by to get enchiladas, too.

To be honest, after spending all that time roaming across Indiana while we wrote Hoosier Hysterical, we couldn't remember even hearing about Summit Lake S.P. It was, naturally, packed when we are there, but on a non-eclipse day I'll bet it's a great place for a trail hike or a day on the water.

Just don't upset the area with fowl language.

It's hard to tell, but those two big limbs on the water were covered with turtles.

The 60s called, they want their clothes back! Actually, these people were very nice, and their dog and I fell in love with each other. He's a leaner--dog lovers will understand.

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

Remember: You can read outdoors, too.

[ozma914]

book review: The Hoosiers, by Meredith Nicholson

The Hoosiers is in no way related to our book Hoosier Hysterical, being separated by a century or so and a barrel of laughs. (That is, the one I wrote is a barrel of laughs. Well, I like to think so.)

Some books I recommend despite knowing most of my readers won't be interested. So it is with this centennial edition of The Hoosiers, which came out in 1915, a year before Indiana's hundredth birthday. My wife's bosses loaned me this original copy, which I'd imagine is pretty rare. I even avoided eating and drinking while leafing through the delicate pages.

Much to my surprise, The Hoosiers is available on Amazon.

I don't expect it'll get a lot of sales there, but it had several reprints back in the day. Although Nicholson covers the basics of Indiana history, its main focus is the arts: Nicholson goes into detail about early Indiana writers, poets, and occasionally painters, as well as other notable Hoosiers of what was then the olden days (and today is twice as olden).

Some of the notables and their products from back then might be recognizable to today's Indianians (as Nicholson puts it, despite the book's title). She also goes over other groups that brought "cultivation" to Indiana, including religious leaders, lawyers and politicians, and those involved in what would then have been the relatively recent Civil War.

Together those notables are woven together into a look at what Indiana was when first formed, and also what it became by the time of the book's writing. From that standpoint it can be interesting, considering how much things changed in the previous and following centuries.

Just the same, I can't recommend the book unless you're really invested in the minutia of Indiana history. I found it easier to read than I'd expected, and fascinating, but I can't stress enough how much it appeals to a very limited readership.

If you'd like to browse Indiana history in a somewhat lighter way, well ... you know where I'd send you.

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

[ozma914]

Four Of Our Books Are Now Audiobooks, Or So I Hear

Four of our books are finally up as audiobooks! Do you hear me?

I know what you're thinking: "But Mark, you can't afford to engineer an audiobook!"

What's that? You're actually thinking, "I wonder if white socks have to be dyed, or if colored socks have to be bleached?" Fine. But just the same, they're up on that audiobook powerhouse, Audible.com:

The books, not the socks. I guess the socks would be in the category of Sole Music.

Amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing, in one of those cases of "We should have seen it coming", is offering authors a chance to use Virtual Voice to make their works into audiobooks. I was contacted to beta the service, as was, I suspect, every other writer on Amazon. But audiobooks have become a big thing, and I can't afford a service, or the equipment and time to do it myself.

The first one I tried was Storm Chaser. I found the process easy, and the voice acceptable. It is a virtual voice; the term "virtual" has become a dirty word among artists, but this one isn't stealing from someone to make something. Anyone interested in trying it should read a sample first, to see if they're okay with the voice.

Pay no attention to the voice behind that book!

The second I converted was The No-Campfire Girls. Since the book is almost entirely from the POV of a teenage girl, I chose a female narrator for that one. The price I used for all four books is $3.99, which is low for an audiobook but within reason. Amazon's "free" service gets a cut of that, of course.

Seriously, there's no one there. You're imaging those legs.

The other two are my straight humor books, Slightly Off the Mark and More Slightly Off the Mark. (This is as opposed to books like Hoosier Hysterical, which are a mix of humor and other things. But they're still funny. Trust me.)

I'd love for these books to get popular enough to generate a series--I have lots of columns to go.

It was only, oh, this week that I found out Audible is now an Amazon owned service, so ... yay!

Of our other books, some I can't get converted to audio right now due to technical problems, which we're working on. Some I just don't think would work as audiobooks. Images of America: Albion and Noble County is a photo-heavy book, and I'm not sure I could do this without permission of its traditional publisher, anyway. Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights is a toss-up, but being a local history book on a niche subject, I'm not sure there's any point in trying.

Listen to a sample and let me know what you think. If it works, it's a great chance to expand our audience. If it doesn't ... well, all it took was a little time out of my life when I would have been watching "Resident Alien".

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

Remember: If you're going to hear voices, it's better to know where they're coming from.

[ozma914]

Book Selling Report For 2023, or: Why I Cry

An interesting thing about the publishing industry is that it takes great pains to make sure an author never knows how many books he's selling.

Meanwhile, at certain points in the process, that's the only thing authors want to know.

Actually, the traditional publishers I've worked with have been good about giving me sales reports--every three or six months. But it can be hard to read their reports, in the same way it can be hard for the janitor at a college to understand a blackboard full of physics equations. Well, maybe they can sometimes. A better example would be someone giving me the full schematics on how to wire an electrical system into a house, then expecting me to actually do it.

"Gee, he seemed smart enough to manage. I'm gonna miss him."

When it comes to places that sell your work, such as Barnes and Noble or the elephant in the room, Amazon ... good luck. Most of my books are independently published, so there is no publisher trying to keep track of my sales. You'd think the bookselling websites would do that, but ... well, you'd think more people would read, too.

Maybe I could sell them like donuts. "I'll take a white one, and a blue one, and ...."

I'm telling you all this to explain why, while I've come up with an estimate of my 2023 sales, I have no idea how accurate it is.

Fairly accurate. I think. Within reason.

So, in 2023 we sold 624 books. I think. 482 were e-books, and 142 were print copies. (In 2022 I actually sold a hardcover copy of Images of America: Albion and Noble County. I mention that because, before then, I didn't think you even could buy hardcover copies of our books.)

Our 2022 total was 539 sales, so we're up by 85 books. It's a good number, considering we haven't done an author appearance since the beginning of Covid. Now that I've actually had Covid, I'm not thrilled about going out into crowds in the immediate future, either.

Our best sellers:

151 copies of Coming Attractions.

145 copies of Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All.

104 copies of Storm Chaser (which was re-released with some fanfare early in the year).

51 copies of The No-Campfire Girls.

The other books were, shall we say, not great sellers. All sold at least a few copies except for Slightly Off the Mark: The Unpublished Columns, which has the disadvantages of having been out for several years, and of being a humor book by someone who isn't already famous.

"Dude, these are stale."

Still, good money, right?

Well ...

I also experimented with advertising all last year. Online ads did indeed increase our sales, but they didn't lead to a profit. For every dollar in gross sales we made, I spent about two dollars. ("I" because Emily wasn't involved in that pile of commercial misfortune.)

But wait--there's more. Depending on how they were published and where they were bought, our profit was between 60% and 6% of each book sold. The 60% ones were the books Emily slaved and sweated over.

Do that math, and for every dollar we made, I spent five dollars in advertising and promotion.

This is fine for a hobby. I could collect toy trains, or fix up antiques, or bend my elbow at the bar every night, for a similar amount of money. It is not, however, what anyone would call a sustainable business model. It's more like trying to sell your product by screaming out the brand name as you leap off a cliff.

"Losing the house is no big deal, I can write in the car."

So, I have two goals when it comes to selling books in 2024. One is to sell a thousand copies of our various books in the space of one year. There are a couple of years when I may have done that, but I'm too lazy to go back and do more math--I'd rather think of it as a new obtainable goal.

My second goal is to do that while making more money than we spend. I don't know ... maybe my goal should be to sell the same number as last year, but without taking a loss. Many authors manage to do this.

Not many manage to make a living at it, but if I wanted an easy job I'd be a physics professor.

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

Remember: Every time you buy a book, an author can buy a cup of coffee to keep him awake while he's writing his next book