Ruminating On: Faith in Humanity

Sit with me for a minute. Let me tell you a story. What I’m about to tell you happened to me about an hour ago. Dig it:

First, a little back story. My doctor, the lovely lady that attempts to keep me pain free month in and month out, is in different city than the one I reside in. In fact, she’s over a hundred and fifty miles away. The last time I saw Doctor Amy was a month ago. During this appointment she wrote me one prescription, and then another prescription for the same medicine with the caveat that I could not fill the second one until after the 16th of November. This is because the laws have recently changed and she is no longer allowed to write refills for Class 2 narcotics. Knowing I cannot make the trip down to see her every month, she did this out of consideration for my condition. My back does not take long car rides well, and it takes a week for me to recuperate after riding down for my appointments. I know you’re asking yourself, “Well, why doesn’t E get someone local?” and the answer is this: drug abusers. People who abuse the type of medicine I need to function throughout the day. I don’t hate these people. In fact, I used to be one (I guess in a way I will always be one), but things have gotten out of control.

Fast forward to yesterday afternoon. I attempted to fill that prescription Doctor Amy so kindly wrote me. Unfortunately, she wrote in the note section that it should be filled after the 16th and not on. Being that I only get a thirty day supply and there was 31 days last month, that means I’ve been out of my pain pills since the 15th. Not cool, but I can deal. Been through worse, and I know relief is coming. The pharmacist told me to come back after midnight. I thanked her and went home.

Now to the present. I rode down to Walgreens and went inside.I handed the overnight pharmacist my prescription. She glances at the location and automatically says, “This isn’t from our geographic location. I won’t be able to fill this.” I explained my situation to her, but she remained firm. She went on to explain to me all the new rules and regulations that kept her from making an exception for me.

I am not so proud a man that I will lie about crying. I’ve been in a great deal of pain the past two days (some of you that follow me on Facebook will know I went to the ER Friday night because the pain had become too great) and emotionally stressed out. I have four projects currently in the works, and one deadline approaching that I absolutely cannot miss. Home life is great as always, and my family is constantly supportive, but I took on far too much. So yes, I began to cry.

And then something changed. This once stoic pharmacist’s posture softened, and a crooked little grin lifted one side of her mouth. She’d laid my script on the counter in front of me, but now she picked it up, and, without another word, moved to the computer and started typing. My blubbering butt was stunned stupid. I know I looked odd standing there gawking at this woman who had just suddenly decided to do a stranger a solid. She filled my prescription, said that she hoped I got to feeling better, and wished me a goodnight. I thanked her and left.

She didn’t have to do that. And though I devolved into tears, I understood her position. The law’s the law, right? I wasn’t going to ask her to risk her livelihood. Shoot, I can’t even call their hotline to commend her because I’d wind up getting her in trouble if I went into detail. She risked her job and license to help a guy she didn’t know from Adam and restored a bit of that man’s faith in humanity.

With all the terrible tales that cycle through the internet on a daily basis, I thought that, for once, you guys would like to hear a pleasant story concerning a good deed.

Maybe we’re not so bad after all. Well, not all of us, anyway.


FOG WARNING Now Available for Pre-Order on Amazon!

I figured I’d try this pre-order doohickey on Amazon and see how it goes. If you’re one of those who are fond of that pre-order button, go clickety-click that bad boy. Share away, you know, if the mood strikes you. Pro-shate it!

Fog Warning Pre-Order!

Ruminating On: The Stigma of Inactivity

I’m an author, so, of course, one of my favorite things to hear is, “Why are you so tired? All you’ve been doing is sitting at a computer all day.” Luckily, my wife doesn’t do this, and neither do my kids, but there are quite a few people out there that actually consider “thinking” to be a lazy man’s profession. Are the keyboard pounders of the world usually out of shape? Yes. Does that mean we’re not active? Ah, now there’s something worth discussing.

Anyone who’s spent any significant amount of time in front of a computer will tell you that it can be exhausting. And no, not just those that frequent porn sites. Aside from Sylvester Strong-Arm, there are plenty of us who pay our bills by working a mouse and keyboard. Whether we be writers, programmers, technicians, or the flotsam that instigate the Saudi Prince emails, we do no less work than the average hole digger. Sure, our pecks and calves aren’t quite as impressive as Johnny Jackhammer, but our brains are flex worthy. Check out this +1 cranium, yo!

But I want to get down to the nitty gritty here. No one ever complains that scientists and lab rats should get off their asses and do something. No one accuses big-name authors of being lazy. But let the person in question be a struggling sort, someone who has yet to make it big, and all you hear is, “Why don’t you spend some time away from the computer? You know, get a life?” What this tells me is that the levels of our bank accounts closely mirror the level of our activity. Meaning, as long as you’re paying the bills, you’re working hard. If you’re attempting to pay the bills, not so much. This even overflows into the “real world”. Think about it. The fast food worker that makes minimum wage (and some of these people are college graduates who can’t find a job elsewhere, so keep your fucking assumptions to yourself) is constantly told they need to find a real job.  There are even memes floating around that say the guy who flips your burgers and cooks your fries doesn’t deserve fifteen bucks an hour. How so? What makes his job easier than, let’s say, a software technician?  On the flip side, what makes the software technician’s job worth more? But still… STILL! … we devalue those that do not succeed. It’s a double standard across the board, and the only set measurement has to do with money and/or success. But the simple fact of the matter is this: The people who work the hardest are usually paid the least. And this is because struggle is not valued. Accomplishment is. And activity is a state of mind.

Am I wrong? Am I right? Am I confusing or simply full of shit? Talk about it in the comments below.

I’ve been E. You’ve been you. Talk at you later!

(Author’s Note: If you found an error in today’s post, a typo or what have you, calm down. These things happen. Take a deep breath, have a coke and a smile, and maybe take up a career as an air traffic controller. This blog is not professionally edited. It’s a conversation, and I plan to keep it that way. Now, the books I sell, that’s a different story. Have a lovely day.)

Bay’s End (Signed Limited Edition Hardcover) now available for pre-order!

Click below to pre-order your copy of Bay’s End (Signed Limited Edition Hardcover, including Fog Warning), coming December 21st!

This Pre-Order is to fund the cover artwork and interior design of a signed limited edition of Edward Lorn’s debut novel, Bay’s End. This edition will be limited to a first run of 50 copies, but no more than 200 copies will be produced. The sooner you order, the lower your number will be. This edition will have a brand new introduction from the author, and will include Fog Warning, the brand new novella, which is set in Bay’s End.. 

If the proper funds are not raised, refunds will be issued.

Thank you for your support.

(Cover Reveal TBA)

$35.00 plus $5.00 shipping and handling

Customers in the US , click HERE

All other countries, click HERE

BAYS ENDFog Warning Final

Artwork shown is not final

An Interview with Edward Lorn


Billybumblers, Chipotle, and Friendship: An interview with yours truly.

Originally posted on Cat After Dark:


1) What’s your earliest memory about storytelling?

One morning, my mother was walking me to school. The route we took passed a construction site. Just beyond the chain link fence was a mound of dirt about twenty feet high, and another one around five feet. I pointed to the larger mound and said, “There’re bodies under there.”

Mom gave me an odd look. “How do you know that?”

Because I can see them. In my brain.”

Well, what’s under the smaller pile?”

I smiled. “The heads.”

Undeterred, my mother asked, “Do you think I should call the cops?”

I nodded. “I think that would be best.”

That was my first day of kindergarten. I was five years old.

2) If you could live during any era in any land, real or imaginary, where would it be and why?

I could say Oz, because I love the idea of…

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Ruminating On: Reading and Illiteracy

I’m one of those elitist cocksuckers who put people into categories. I can’t help it. I was a library aid/football player in high school. Yes, I was indeed a literate fuckwit. I’m not proud of my teenage years, nor do I like to ruminate on them, but it explains a great deal about me. For one, I like to organize people into certain groups (like most jocks and meatheads) but not in the way you might think, because I tend to be compassionate (like most nerds and geeks). I’m a saint, really. Which brings me to today’s topic.

There are, as I see it, three types of readers. The first group reads for fun. These are your escapists. The second group reads for education purposes only. Mind you, I said only. Yes, there are readers who cross these lines, but they’re like unicorns. Sure, they exist, but I’ve never met one. The final group are your (assuming that he does actually know how to read…) Kanye Wests. They know how to read, but they choose not to for one reason or another. They waste their literacy like Americans waste food. There are starving children in Africa, and most of them are illiterate too. Imagine being hungry and not able to read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. WHAT A WORLD, WHAT A WORLD! .

On a serious note, I’d like to ask you a question. Are their different categories for the illiterate? Ah, now we have a discussion topic. Let’s take the three reader categories I mentioned above and use their attributes to categorize the illiterate.

1) Your escapist illiterate does everything in their power to avoid learning how to read. They will become violent, and thug-fuck you with their rage boner. It’s not a pleasant sight, really. For some reason that still eludes me, these souls think that being educated is lame. They lounge in their laziness, and more than likely smell funny. After all, if you refuse to learn how to read, how will you ever tell the difference between the hot and cold tab on your tub’s faucet?

2) Your education-deprived illiterate wouldn’t mind learning to read but has no one to learn from. This is probably the saddest case on this list, and I don’t feel that joking about it will do anyone any good. I would venture a guess, though, and say that these are the individuals that need the escape of reading the most. Whether it be residency in a third-world country, or simply neglectful parents, those that are denied basic education draw a tear adown my cheek. I want to give them a ticket to Hogwarts, or a time machine, or even a simple trip to the shire. I want to help them forget about callous and fucked up this world can be.

3) And, finally, your hidden illiterates. Once again, your Kanye Wests (ZING!) Those that pretend they can read out of shame, as if not being literate makes them less of a person. As if it makes someone an idiot. Simply not knowing how to read does not make you a good or bad person, and it doesn’t make you stupid. I know, my father was one of those people. He was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. He chose life experience over book-learning, and though he was a horrible human being, his illiteracy had nothing to do with that. So, yeah, being illiterate makes life a bit more difficult, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

What do you think? Am I right? Am I wrong? Discuss in the comment section below.

It’s good to be back. I’ll see you guys next week. Love yo face!


Children’s Literacy Initiative

(Author’s Note: If you found an error in today’s post, a typo or what have you, calm down. These things happen. Take a deep breath, have a coke and a smile, and maybe take up a career as an air traffic controller. This blog is not professionally edited. It’s a conversation, and I plan to keep it that way. Now, the books I sell, that’s a different story. Have a lovely day.)

Ruminating On Returns!

It’s been quite some time since I actually blogged. Ruminating On was once a weekly deal (even a daily occurrence at one point) but reading and writing have taken up most of my time over the last several months… Holy shit, it’s been almost a year, actually.

For those of you who follow this blog and miss the old days, I wanted to let you know I’ll be returning here weekly for new posts. If you’re unfamiliar with what I do on this website, it’s simple. Ruminating On is a mind dump. My mind dump. Opinions will be brutal and honest. There will be language and adult themes. There will be errors and typos, as I don’t have my posts here professionally edited, but I will try to clean them up as much as possible. In the end, I hope to leave you thinking, because Ruminating On isn’t about me being right, it’s about me and you having a conversation, about trying to find answers in this crazy world. But, mostly, it’s a way for me to remain sane through writing.

I have not decided on a scheduled day for posts (RO used to be on Thursdays), but will most likely began posting again tonight or tomorrow. I hope you’ll join me.