Keith Snyder
Door always open.

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More market-targeted stuff at my extremely focused and on-topic writer blog

  • I have Google Alerts set up for all my film titles. The other day I got one for this, which lists Sell in Hell (the short film before Credo and I Love You, I'm Sorry, And I'll Never Do It Again) as one of the reasons you should go get your buzz at Caffeine, a coffeehouse in Marmora, New Jersey.

    I sent the page owner a message, saying I'm not upset, but asking how they were watching it, since we haven't offered it for sale. I got a message back saying she'd just bought the place, and it came with 700 movies, and the local kids said that was the best one and came in to watch it a lot. She said if it was illegal, she'd stop showing it.

    I said it's only illegal if you don't have permission, and hereby granted it.

    I'm still curious how they're watching it, since not that many DVDs ever existed. With only a few exceptions, Sell in Hell was on the festival circuit when festivals still wanted VHS.

    Ethics issues aside, it's kinda cool that when you just send something out into the world without expecting who it's going to meet, settle down with, or bring home, it turns into the favorite short film of a bunch of coffeehouse kids in Marmora, New Jersey.

  • Kissing and cuddling Butchie is more effective than yelling at getting him to STAY IN THE *$&%^*$ BED!, and is more pleasant for both parties, but it would seem to reward negative behavior. However, since Butchie spends much of his time absent from the planet, and possibly isn't aware of what his body does while he's traveling, all I'm doing is being a mean Daddy who suddenly yells at him for no reason. So it's not actually a reward, since he has no memory of the negative behavior that led him to be on (oh my goodness, how'd I get here!?) the floor, in the hall, draped over the doorjamb, in the toy box, in his brother's bed, again... and again... and again... and again...

  • We haven't had a single day in which at least two of us weren't sick and sleepless since late December, 2007.

  • We get little report sheets at the end of each day of preschool. Along with checkboxes for "My Mood" (Happy, Inquisitive, Tired, Talkative, Active, and the dreaded Other), there are little reports.
    Butch enjoyed playing with the hula hoop in the playroom today. He also listened to Miss Christina read "Cinderella."

    We've noticed, though, that these little reports don't tell the whole story.
    Today Butch enjoyed not listening to us and marching around the room like the elephants in the Jungle Book DVD you obviously let him watch way too much. He also enjoyed yelling at the top of his lungs and coloring his nose green with markers.

  • Honest, this was a nicely pressed shirt before we left for preschool.

  • You may think I'm ignoring the tea poll, but I haven't been at the office. Hence no tea breaks. However, I start a writing-friendly noon-to-five day gig schedule next week, so it'll be back in heavy use—and my only excuse for not writing will be sleep deprivation. Or possibly movie-musical production, but seeing as novel-writing is my excuse for not composing, that one's OK.

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