Jordon Quattlebaum's Blog

I was lucky today. I woke up at 4:30 am, a full two hours before my alarm would have woken me, and I couldn’t get back to sleep.

Why in the heck would I say that’s a good thing? Well, I couldn’t sleep because I was excited to start my day. I was excited to get up and go to work. I was excited to help lead a new team of extremely talented individuals who share a common goal, and love what they do.  I was excited to write during my lunch break. The ideas in my head kept flip-flopping between plot ideas, or the wording of a certain scene, to ways I could work to make our school’s curriculum stronger, or things I could do to enhance the student experience and make their learning more enjoyable.

I was excited to work, and to learn… and for the first time in a very long time, today the work I do felt like play.

Now, I wish I could say that this was a natural thing for me, but I’d be lying if I did. I’m not the guy that goes to work every day and loves every second and can’t stop smiling, and has a great attitude. I wish I was. Maybe sometimes I am, but it’s not often enough.

So what did it?

Well, some old advice I was given finally started to sink in. I finally accepted that I can’t control life, but I can control my response to it. That wasn’t it, though. You can make that choice, and respond positively to some pretty crappy situations. That’s called denial.

This wasn’t denial. It was something else.

I decided I wasn’t just going to sit around and respond to what was happening to me. I was going to respond preemptively to shape the things that I wanted things to happen.

So far I have a team of happy colleagues, our projects are running on time (some are even ahead of schedule), and I’ve been WRITING.

So good.

This was a great thing to realize, but it was only part of the equation. The other piece was this; I realized that sometimes God might expose me to some challenging times in life. Financially, emotionally, you name it. My family has been through the wringer this year. But in an almost childish way, I started to think about how God uses the least of these to do great good in the world. I thought, “Hey, perhaps my *insert unexpected home repair here* will provide the financial blessing that some family needs right now.” And maybe it won’t. You can absolutely believe that. I’m just here to say that the simple shift in my attitude, and how I view the world, has made this a wonderful week so far.

I hope the rest of yours will be as well.

-Jordon

Hey folks, just a quick progress update for you today. I can say that the first draft of Running on Empty has reached the half way marker, and my lofty goal is to complete the first pass by the end of May.

How, you might ask?

Well, I’ve made some changes in my life.

First, I’ve started using a program called Cold Turkey. Basically it allows me to set a schedule of when I’ll block certain things, like social media and video games. It’s nice to have large chunks of time regularly scheduled where I know I can’t play games or procrastinate on the web. So generally I spend that time with family, do work in the yard, cook dinner, and write. All good things. It also lets me schedule a period of time for when I don’t want the system to let me log into windows. Say, for example, when it’s bedtime. If I’m using my nightly leisure time to do some gaming, and lose track of time, it’ll shut down right at 10 PM (the time I’ve set it to do so). It works like a charm.

Second, there’s another nifty program called ‘Writer’s Block Pro’. Basically it allows me to set a goal of either a word count (my preferred choice), or a period of time. Once I launch the program (an extremely simplified word processor), it goes full screen and WILL NOT close until I’ve met my goal. It’s beautiful when combined with Cold Turkey.

So, if I manage to stay on pace, I’ll write roughly 120 pages this month, if not more, and finish up that rough draft. Yay!

What about you? Have you used any similar tools to help you reach your goals? I’d love to hear about it in the comments!

Below is a scene that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. It’s entirely unedited and might change quite a bit before it’s finished. Heck, it might not even make it into the book.

For now, though… I hope you enjoy.

They were coming. Sharp and dark, mindless and hungry, they were coming.

Guttural snarls and screeches predicated the arrival of the Nightmares. Ghost had started referring to them that way, as Nightmares when he realized there wasn’t any other way to categorize the creatures that stalked he and his friend. The two of them had been on the run for a long while now, and Ghost could feel his reserves, physical and metal, dwindling.

Clawing, barking, they edged closer. He’d gained some ground when he emptied the magazine of his rifle into the black, but it hadn’t been enough. The Nightmares would find them soon. He couldn’t hide from them. They smelled blood. Preacher’s blood.

A thought flit through Ghost’s head. No, not a thought. A voice, soft and filled to the brim with equal parts torment and temptation. The voice toyed with him.

“You can leave him, you know. They might be distracted with him long enough for you to escape on your own. His end doesn’t have to be your end, Ghost.”

He recognized the voice. Knew it had no place between his ears, knew he was losing his mind. Knowing that didn’t make the suggestion any less tempting.

Ghost reached down to type a response into the Text and Talk on instinct before he remembered that the voice in his head didn’t need an audible response. No need to vocalize his thoughts using the archaic children’s toy that had served as Ghost’s voice for so long. The voice could hear his thoughts just fine.

“Not… gonna… happen, Charlie.” Ghost said through bouts of physical effort, dragging his friend another foot through the labyrinthine hallway. “Preacher… goes, I… go.”

He heard his own voice clearly in his head. Older, and deeper than it was the day the beast had torn his throat. That was the first time he’d seen the Nightmares. He’d survived them once, he’d do it again.

“Oh sweet Ghost,” the voice mocked, full of syrupy sweetness, “Where was that loyalty when you let me die?”

He didn’t respond in thought or text. He may be insane, but the voice had a point, and he hated her for it. Hated himself for what he’d done, what he’d let them do to her.

He was hurt too. One of the bullets had ricocheted and hit him in the shoulder. It hurt, but he’d live.

Ghost grit his teeth, and threw an arm around Preacher’s ruined chest in an effort to redistribute some of the weight. He felt the hot blood of his friend cover his arms, and down to coat his fingers in it’s slippery warmth. The combination of exhaustion and slippery hands were too much for Ghost to manage, and Preacher fell to the floor.

Something had torn into Preacher good, and he’d lost enough blood that his complexion was starting to resemble that of Ghost’s own albino skin. Ghost grunted, summoning the strength from some new found reserve, he pulled Preacher to a standing position, and began to drag him through the Stygian halls, trying to buy enough time to find the exit.

He couldn’t see anything. It was too dark. It was always dark. Had been for 80 years, but there’s dark, and then there’s dark. This was the latter, and even Ghost’s keen eyes couldn’t see much further than the dim green glow of the Text and Talk allowed, maybe a foot or so ahead.

So he listened. He listened to the beasts draw near, listened while Preacher babbled some verses from his damn book. It was always the book with Preacher.

They would be here any second now. This was the end.

Preacher’s head lolled over his shoulder, giving him a view of Ghosts’ own injury.

“Hey Ghost. You’re not looking too good, buddy.”

Ghost held a finger to his lips in an effort to quiet his injured friend. It didn’t work.

“Ghost’s got a bullet hole in him. Now he’s a Holy Ghost. Hey Ghost! Hear that? You’re the Holy Ghost!”

Ghost clapped a hand over Preacher’s mouth, and the talking slowly subsided.

Preacher had been snapping in and out of lucidity like that for the past hour or so. At least Ghost thought it had been at least that long. It was hard to tell. Every minute felt like an eternity with those things on his heels.

Ghost looked down, concerned that he may have smothered his friend, and felt relief when he saw that Preacher’s eyes were open, looking right at him. They were crazy, like the eyes of someone with a bad fever while the rest of his features were hard. Focused. Determined.

Then Preacher sat up straight, stared into the darkness, and spoke.

“Gonna paraphrase this one since you’re obviously getting a little impatient,” he shouted into the black.

“Someone’s coming. Someone a lot more bad ass than me. Someone whose boots I’m not fit to lick. But they’re taking their sweet time and right now it’s just you and us. You think you’ve got us. That there’s no way out. No way to be saved. The way I see it, it’s you in need of saving. So I’m giving you this chance. We’ve tried talking, tried dousing you with hot lead from the Holy Ghost. Only one thing left for us to do. Now it’s time we baptize you with fire!”

Something small and metal skittered across the concrete floor, but Ghosts’ eyes rested on the pitted metal sphere that his friend held. A smile brushed his lips, but he had only a moment to wonder where in all of this mess Preacher had found a grenade before their world became flame.

Just a quick announcement to let you all know that Breakdown Season 2 is going on a mid-season break. I want to take a couple of months to explore the Running on Empty setting, and finish the first full novel featuring Preacher, Ghost, and some new friends.

I’m not leaving ‘Breakdown’ for good, though, and plan on picking it back up in Early Spring to finish the season with episodes 9, 10, and 11 (yes, this one will be 6 episodes long, plenty of story to go yet).

Thanks for hanging in there and trusting me. This story just couldn’t wait to be written, and I only have so much time in the day (unfortunately) to write.

As always, please feel free to check in on Facebook for updates and blurbs of the new book!

I was 13 years old when I played my first session of Dungeons and Dragons.

A few guys and I were spending the night at a buddies’ house. We started by playing computer games in their home office, and slowly throughout the course of the night, people began to disappear into the other room. I was the last one playing computer games, just hanging out enjoying my time when it happened.

Laughter.

Intense, prepubescent laughter.

I shrugged it off. No big deal. Someone probably just farted. We were 13. Farts were hilarious. Still are. Even better when you light them on fire… but then it happened again…and again.

“Oh man! That was GREAT!” one of the guys said as they walked into the office from the other room.

“I know! Can you believe that?” another said, heading downstairs to grab a coke.

My interest was piqued.

When they came back upstairs, I ducked my head out just long enough to ask, “What’re you guys doing? ”

“Playing D&D.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but they looked a little embarrassed.

“D&D?”

“Dungeons and Dragons.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be interested.”

I’m not sure why he thought that. I WAS interested. Clearly interested. I liked fun, and whatever was happening in that room sounded like fun to me.

“Mind if I just hang out and watch.”

“Sure.”

10 minutes later, the game started up again. The Dungeon Master described the scene: Kobolds were slinging arrows, stones, and one-liners at the characters my friends were playing. My friends, in turn, responded with what they wanted their characters to do, and rolled the appropriate dice to check if they’d been successful. Over the course of the scene the Dungeon Master described over-the-top gore-filled deaths, insane critical-failures, and yes, thinking back, I’m pretty sure there were fart jokes. I was in love. We gamed through the night and straight into the next afternoon until our mothers showed up and forced us away from the pencils, paper and dice to make us do things like brush our teeth, shower, put on deodorant, and maybe take nap.

Years passed, and I was fortunate to spend many many nights the same way. I never thought at the time that I was really learning anything of value. Now I know better.

On Planning and Pantsing

Being a Dungeon Master (Story Teller, GM, whatever you want to call it), teaches you a lot about planning. Initially the thought of running a game was terrifying. You pour yourself into it, trying to plan every little detail in order to compensate for any veering off your party may do. In those early days there’s nothing worse than a party that decides to go their own way, sidelining hours and hours of your hard work.

In the beginning my work as an author felt like this as well. I can’t tell you the amount of time I’ve spent plotting and planning stories that would just never come to anything at all. Hours and hours wasted, paralyzed by what was, in fact, an excuse not to write.

And then it hit me… one of the reasons I loved those early all-night gaming sessions was how good the DM was at improvising. There’s no way he had 12 hours of game planned out for us. He just rolled with the punches and made things up on the spot, and it was fantastic.

To many authors, the thought of writing without a complete plan is unnerving.

“I can’t write yet. I haven’t planned the whole series!”

Excuses.

Pantsing is a skill, and you will get better at it.

But lets get back to D&D, shall we?

Good.

We learned fairly quickly that while Pantsing (improvising) is a skill, it’s also something that’s best done to complement an outline that you’ve already planned out. If you try to 100% pants a campaign, you’re going to hit roadblocks sooner or later, run into continuity issues, and just plain get yours into trouble.

So what am I saying? You have to have a plan, and you have to be able to improvise. Have your outline. Establish your absolute truths, so that when the characters you breathe life into with their perks and flaws derail your story (and they will), you’ve got the tools in your toolbox to bring them back around. Give them leash, just not too much.

Part 2 will come sooner or later, and we’ll be talking about Strings. Fun fun!

Dear Parents at the Park,

I’m sorry that we didn’t introduce ourselves when we ran into you the other day. We wanted to. Honestly.

Our hearts pounded and our minds raced when we looked up to see you and your beautiful little girl heading down the sidewalk to join us.

We were excited -thrilled even- to see a little girl our daughter’s age coming to play!

We were also terrified. Terrified that you would judge us. Even more terrified that you’d judge our little girl.

Autism isn’t a visible issue. Unlike other disabilities, there are no tell-tale physical traits easily recognized by the average joe.

So we worried.

Would you judge us for her mismatched outfit?

Your daughter was so put together, in her cute little dress and matching shoes. Ours was struggling with sensory issues that day. We were lucky to get her out of the house fully clothed. It took three different shirts, but she was finally able to keep the long sleeve striped shirt on without an outpouring of tears. At that point it hardly mattered to us that it didn’t match her brown sweatpants. Would it matter to you?

Would you judge us for her shaggy unkempt hair? Your daughter had such cute delicate curls and neatly combed hair. Her little barrette kept her bangs from falling into her eyes.  Our daughter’s shaggy main has only been trimmed twice in her lifetime, quick hackjobs to keep the bangs from her eyes since she won’t allow ribbons, hair ties, or barrettes to remain in her hair for more than a moment. Those haircuts were hard battles to fight.

Would you judge her for her lack of speech? Your daughter said hello to us, but when you greeted our girl, instead of saying “Hello” she tried to push you down the slide.

Ultimately situations like this aren’t our daughter’s problem. They’re ours.

We weren’t sure what to do. We’re new to this. We didn’t know how, or when to bring up the fact that her behavior is different because she’s on the autism spectrum. I think the thing that we did wrong though, was to worry that the news would make you feel uncomfortable.

Looking back now, I realize that I could have just said, “Hi, I’m Jordon and this is my wife, Melissa. These are my daughters, Josephina and Juliana.” When you said hello, and she didn’t respond verbally, or make eye contact, I should have spoken up and said with a smile, “She’s on the autism spectrum. New social situations are hard for her, but we’re glad you’re here!”

Instead we quietly made excuses. Naptime. A dirty diaper. Time to go. Have fun!

The good news is that we’ll have another chance. Countless chances. And next time will be different.

Next time, I’ll be brave. Next time I won’t let my own insecurities stand in the way of my daughter having a good time.

Until then, I apologize for my mismatched outfit, my shaggy hair and unkempt beard, and the fact that I didn’t say hello. That was rude, and I know better.

-Jordon

So, family is incredibly important to me. I’m fortunate enough that not only is my immediate family amazing, loving, supportive, but my wife’s family as well. Even extended family. I hit the jackpot. Is it any wonder that the families I describe in ‘Breakdown’ reflect that? Probably not (though I may be including some less-functional families shortly.. just a heads up).

I’ve tended to keep my own family out of my career as an author, but some things have happened recently that have changed my mind. I shouldn’t be hiding them, I should be celebrating them. They’re the reason I started to write, after all.

Today I’m celebrating my eldest daughter, Sephi. She’s a spitfire toddler, aged 2 (and 4 months, thank you very much). She loves to swim, run, play, laugh, kiss, make blanket forts and play outside. She’s one in a million, and just last week we found out she’s also, one in 189. That’s the current rate of autism spectrum disorder (ASD) in girls born today.

It wasn’t much of a shock to us…we were both educators who were used to working with kids, and both knew that as hard as we tried, we couldn’t help her hit the developmental milestones that typically developing kids hit. Don’t get me wrong, the diagnosis still hurt, but it wasn’t a surprise.

We know God created her with a purpose, and that He doesn’t make mistakes.

We’re fiercely proud of her, and thankful for the diagnosis. You see, for the last four months she’s been working very hard once a week with an in home speech therapist, an occupational therapist, and an ABA therapist, and that hard work is paying off big time. The diagnosis will allow additional hours to work on those skills.

In the last four months we’ve seen huge improvements in her fine motor skills, and her vocabulary has gone from 5 rarely used words and zero sign language, to 20+ words and a handful of signs (including ‘more’, ‘all done’, and ‘my turn’). As you can imagine this has made an already happy girl so much happier. She can communicate, and get what she wants, without a meltdown!

What does all of this have to do with you?

You’ve helped give us the ability to help our daughter.  Because of you, we’re able to stretch my teaching salary, and allow her amazing mother to stay home with our girls instead of going back to work. She’s able to sit with the therapists when they visit, and learn how we can help Sephi grow. How in the world did you do all of this?

35 cents at a time.

For every episode you choose to buy, 35 cents goes to helping my family. A real, working class family. 35 cents doesn’t seem like a whole lot, but you all have made it add up to something incredible; a small set of miracles that will help a little girl reach her full potential.

So thank you.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Thank you for making a difference in our lives.

Thank you for being a part of my family.

Sephi says “Thank you!”

Hey friends. What a strange way to start a blog post, but we’re friends, right? Like, if you came up to my table at a conference and said “Hi”, we’d fist bump and do some duck-face selfies? I thought so.

I just realized it’s been awhile since I last posted, and wanted to fill you in on what’s been going on here on my side of things.

Writing! Yes, Episode 7 is in the very capable hands of my editors, and should be going live next week sometime. Exciting stuff! I’ve been hard at work on Episode 8, having rewritten the first chapter a couple of times now… I’ve finally got it how I want it, and now I can forge ahead. The writing of Episodes 8, 9 and 10 should go pretty quickly since I have it mapped out fairly well. We’ll see if the characters agree with my plans.

I also wanted to share some things that I’m excited about right now… my interests change fairly often.. I’m always learning something new. One of the interests that hasn’t changed in the last several years is my interest in growing my own food. Due to the ravenous nature of our local squirrel population, I haven’t had the courage to start. Any tips on how to keep those beasties from eating all of my hard work? Email me at jordon@thequattlebaum.com!

That being said, my email was down for the last couple of days, but the issue has been resolved now. Unfortunately I lost all of the previous emails I’d received, so if you and I have been writing back and forth for a bit, and I’ve stopped responding, it’s not because I dislike you. I promise.

Currently Reading: The Market Gardener by Jean-Martin Fortier. If you’re interested in growing food more efficiently, it’s a must read.

Big day for my family tomorrow, so please keep us all in your thoughts. More on that later.

Tug-Tub-Boat?

So this week I’ve been on vacation.. a stay-cation I guess folks are calling it these days since I didn’t leave town. The week so far has been pretty incredible. The added time with my two darling daughters, my lovely wife, and the fact that I’ve been spending my mornings at the library writing Episode 7 have all been wonderful things. I’ve been low stress, and writing roughly three times what my typical word count goal is. Not too shabby.

Another cool thing that happened this week (so many great things) is the fact that the audiobook version of “Breakdown: Season 1″ has gone live on Amazon and Audible (should be on iTunes soon as well).

If you’re interested, you can find it here:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012...

or here:

http://www.audible.com/pd/Sci-Fi-Fant...

I hope your week is as lovely as mine has been.

Have a great weekend,

Jordon

Breakdown: Season 1 now available in audio!

I have something exciting I want to share! I received word today from my producer that the audiobook version of ‘Breakdown: Season 1′ has finished recording. I spent some time reviewing it, and it sounds incredible. At this point I’m waiting on Audible to review it (a 10-14 day process.. YIKES!), and then it will be available via iTunes, Amazon, and Audible.

Hooray for progress!

Episode 6 is live on Amazon. Please feel free to check out if you haven’t already done so. Very proud of this particular episode. Episode 7 should be finished in a week or so, with another week for revisions and editing. I’ll keep you posted when it goes live.