I just looked at my calendar, and October 4th is National Taco Day.
      This year, it falls on a Tuesday.
      It is a federally sanctioned Taco Tuesday.  Life just got so, so awesome.

When I announced National Taco (Tues)Day to my Mom, she wanted to know which came first: "Taco Tuesday," or "The Lego Movie."  I couldn't tell her, and I'm too lazy to look it up.

      When I was growing up, tacos were made with ground beef cooked with a spice packet that probably contained more salt than the Atlantic Ocean.  It was then spooned into hard, yellow taco shells, sprinkled with shredded orange cheese, and popped in the oven until said cheese melted.  We ate this with jarred salsa and shredded ice burg lettuce.  And I absolutely loved it.*
      These days I eat two kinds of tacos: awesome gourmet tacos I get off the happy hour menus of restaurants I otherwise can't afford, and my own super-cheat tacos that probably have nothing to do with Mexico.  I'll lay out the recipe here (don't judge me).  Sorry there are no photos to go with, but my schedule doesn't allow for much whim-of-the-moment cooking these days, much less amateur food photography:

Z.D.'s I-Want-to-Make-Something-Like-a-Taco Recipe
serves 4

Ingredients:
2 Tablespoons Canola oil
1 yellow onion, finely chopped
1 bell pepper (you choose your color), finely chopped
1 to 2 chipotle chiles in adopo sauce, minced (for spicy tacos)
2 tsp dried oregano
kosher salt to taste
1/2 to 1 full Cup leftover steamed white rice (optional)**
1 can black beans, rinsed and drained
1/2 Cup water
1 lime, cut into quarters

Serve with:
fresh flour tortillas
fresh diced tomato
fresh sliced avocado
baby arugula and/or shredded cabbage
minced cilantro

Directions:
 - In a large non-stick pan, warm the oil over medium heat.  Add the onion and sauté until translucent. Increase the heat to medium-high and add the bell pepper, sauté just until the edges start to brown.

- Stir in the chipotle chiles, oregano, and salt.  Add in the rice and stir until fully incorporated and heated through, about 1 minute.  Stir in the beans and the water, bring to a boil.

 - Reduce to a low simmer and cook, uncovered and stirring occasionally, until flavors are melded and water has entirely evaporated.  Squeeze one quarter lime over mixture and stir.  Taste, adjust lime and other seasonings as desired.

 - Serve with gently warmed tortillas, remaining lime, and toppings

Something random.  You're welcome.

      If you're not down with spicy, you can substitute 2-4 tsp of ground cumin for the chipotle chiles.  If you want MORE spice, double (or even triple) the chipotle.  And of course you can serve with whatever toppings you want: salsa, guacamole, sour cream, cheese, diced green onion, toasted pepitas, hot sauce....  Not all of those are authentically Mexican, but then again, little about this recipe is authentic.  And I would be very, VERY surprised if Mexico had an National Taco Day.
      Or maybe I wouldn't.  A lot of awesome things come out of Mexico, and Latin America in general.
      If you're going to go out for tacos next Tuesday, I want to know where.  And if you're making your own, I want the recipe.  Gracias.




*Except for the salsa.  Even as a kid, I didn't care for jarred salsa.  If I eat it now, it has to be fresh, and preferably homemade.

**This is something I add to stretch the recipe, and to use up leftover rice when I'm all burnt out on fried rice.  If you omit the rice, halve the spices to start, then adjust the seasoning as you go.

      If you're a long-time reader of this blog, or if you know me personally, you are aware that Halloween is my favorite holiday.  I celebrate all October long!*  It's the epitome of so many of my favorite things: hanging out with friends, playing dress up, eating sweets, and telling scary stories.  That last one in particular is a weird one for me, because I'm also a total wimp who can't watch horror movies.

When I finally own my house, it will be decorated like this for Halloween.  Except cooler, with more spider webs & a fog machine & motion-activated bats.

      When I say I like a scary story, I mean I like a well-told tale that makes my spine go rigid.  I enjoy visions of splendid buildings fallen into decay.  I want the sound of wind moaning louder and louder, until you can no longer lie to yourself that it's just the wind.  I enjoy old tragedies that inspire regret beyond the grave, lingering like mist low to the ground.  I like the mystery of the unseen.

And nothing transports the imagination like a good book.

      My tradition the last few years has been to indulge in both a modern and a classic scary story during the month of October.  This year I was going to read House of Leaves, which has come to me highly recommended.  Based on what I know about it, however, I think it would frankly freak me the fuck out, and I can't read that before bed when I'm sleeping alone.  So it's being postponed one more year.  Instead, this year I plan to indulge in a non-fiction book entitled The Curve of Time.  Although not intended to be a scary story, there are apparently plenty of creepy, otherworldly encounters recorded in it's pages.  And since it a) takes place in my area, and b) is ostensibly a true story...yeah.  I think that might do the trick nicely.
      In terms of the classic, I'm debating between H. G. Wells' The Invisible Man, or the collected works of Edgar Allan Poe.  I've never read Wells.  Although not strictly a horror novel, I think it often gets grouped in the "scary story" genre because of the science-gone-wrong aspect.  Plus it preys on the inherent fear of being forgotten--literally "disappearing from the world."  But then again, Poe is classic, and creepy, and gloriously gothic.  I read his short stories in high school, but I think the language prevented me from absorbing as much as I could.  So is this the time to revisit?

I am so this kid.  Why do I do this to myself?

     I have a week yet to make up my mind.  I'm open to suggestions.  If you have a favorite scary story, I'd love to hear what makes your skin prickle, and leave the light on as you sleep.


*But not BEFORE October.  It drives me nuts that stores start putting out their Halloween merch in August.  I can't get in the creepy gothic mood when I'm still working my tan!

      If you are serious about being a published fiction writer, you've probably been given the following advice: write short stories.  Try to publish short stories.  Submit short stories to contests.  Agents/editors/publishers are more likely to read your novel manuscript if you've put out some short stories.
      I have no idea whether or not this advice holds water.  Partly because a) I've never read that many short stories, so I don't have a good sense of their popularity, and b) I suck at writing them.

It's funny, because it's true.

      I try.  I really, honestly try.  Every now and again I put out a burst of effort, and I think I may have completed two or three halfway decent stories.  More often, however, I either give up halfway through because THERE IS NO WAY that I will accomplish what I want in under 5000 words, or I do finished it, and realize it's not a short story at all: it's a scene from a novel.
      As I was writing this blog post, it occurred to me that I'm not even sure what qualifies as a short story, so I decided to look it up.  I read eleven different websites and each had a different definition.  Here are the definitions I trust the most:

Flash Fiction = 53 to 1,000 words*
Short Story = 3,500 to 7,500 words
Novelette = 7,500 to 17,000 words
Novella = 17,000 to 40,000 words
Novel = 40,000 words or more

      I was recently presented with an opportunity to write a short story on a very general theme, with almost a promise it would be published in an anthology.  It just so happened I already had an idea that might fit.  So I grabbed my notebook, bought a fruit smoothie, and headed to the lake to enjoy some late summer sunshine and let the creativity flow.  It worked.  My rough draft totaled at just under 6,000 words.  The characters, concept, and language felt pretty solid for a first draft.  I was very pleased with my creativity over-all.
      But...it's not a short story.
      Oh, the length is there, but there's no STORY!  It's a SCENE!  When I read it, I feel like a mildly interested voyeur into a somewhat bizarre, paranormal conversation.  But in terms of a beginning, middle, and end, it is weak sauce.  And I actually finished writing it, got in the shower, and banged my head against the wall in frustration.**

Shove it, Will, you bloody hypocrite.

      So I came up with the following theory: I think my problem is that I let my characters tell the story.  When I write a manuscript for a novel, I have ideas for challenges and circumstances, but then I sit back and let the characters I've created figure out what to do.  I just write down how they would react.  If they don't react the way I want, I either tweak their backstory or I change the impetus so they wind up where I want.  Example: let's say I want a character to burn down a cheese factory, but arson really isn't in keeping with their personality.  I could put a traumatic incident in their childhood involving Gruyere to alter their motivation.  Or, I could have a villain threaten the life of their grandmother if they don't torch the joint.
      But there isn't room for that kind of development in a short story!  With limited space, I just have to tell the reader "Hepzibah's PTSD was so severe, she blacked out at the smell of cheddar," and they just have to take my word for it.  Whereas I look at that sentence, and I think: something that good deserves a whole page--maybe a whole chapter!
      So...I'll never be a great writer.  The Greats always wrote short stories: Austen, London, Bradbury, LeGuin, etc.  Stephen King got his start with short stories.  Just thinking about it bums me out.  I think I'm going to made myself a grilled cheese sandwich and take a shower.  Not at the same time.



*And heaven forbid you should want to write something between 1,000 and 3,500 words, you non-conformist freak!

**Not too hard, though.  Just enough to get my point across.  I like my noggin safe and non-concussed.

      You may recall that I'm working on turning one of my manuscripts into a trilogy.  Because apparently I have a passion for re-arranging the deck chairs on sinking ships.  And I'm actually getting to the point where I'm not looking forward to sitting down and working on it every morning, because I'm stuck.
      I wouldn't say I have writer's block, exactly; when I find a spot to elaborate with another paragraph, or a scene I want to change just a touch, my fingers fly over the keyboard.  Words I got.  What I'm lacking is the foresight to figure out exactly what my character would do in this certain situation.
      Allow me to explain: turning my gas-lamp fantasy into a trilogy means I get to make it longer (fun)!  Specifically, I've got room to add another 30,000 words to the second volume.  Which means I get to add in a few little sub-plots, and flesh out some very minor characters so they're no longer just passing scenery.  It also means that now I get to tell the tale of what happened to one of my main characters between London and Cairo.*  Which should be interesting, because he's a character who does a lot of growing in this series.

The Suez Canal has a fascinating history.  I like taking things that have fascinating history in the real world and working them into fictional stories!

      But now my dilemma: I'm not exactly sure what he would do.
      Usually when I'm stuck in a situation like this, I walk around my house doing minor chores and talk to myself out loud.  I reason out what I know about the character's personality, and ply a few "what if" situations.  Almost invariably, within a 20 minutes or less, I have my answer.  It just clicks.  What's more, I get a little thrill of excitement and motivation as scenes appear inside my head, like watching a movie, and I can hardly wait to start transcribing the vision.**
      This time, nothing's clicking.  I can think of a number of scenarios, and it's not hard to figure out what my character would do, but none of them feels right.  And I am not - NOT - putting this much gods-damned effort into this bloody story just to wank out a sub-par sub-plot.

*snort*  Hemingway...what did he know about writing?  Bah!

      So...what do I do?  Write down a draft of all three possibilities, and see if one of them takes?  Table it and come back to it later?  Pick one and run with it?  Keep talking to myself until I come up with something better or the neighbors call the cops???  ARRGH!!!
     Ok, what would you do?



*Or rather, the equivalents thereof in my fictional universe.

**This is why I carry a little pocket chapbook wherever I go, so that I can stop and jot this stuff down if I'm not near my laptop.  Far too many excellent ideas have been lost by people not taking the time to write them down.  I've even pulled over on the freeway once or twice to do this....