J.J. Goodman: Writings, Musings and More

Life is all about timing. Even your car has a timing belt. (And NO, it is not made by Gucci or Armani. It’s a coil of rubber that wraps around pulleys and… Never mind….) The point is, everything in life boils down to timing. I was reminded of this fact over the last few days. On Tuesday of this week, for the first time in easily five years or more, I took to the ice in an effort to resurrect my hockey playing “career.” And by “career” I of course mean “going to skate & shoot prior to joining a men’s league to pretend I am a far better player than I really am.” My hockey playing, and skill level, were both hampered early on by a blown out knee. Still, I love the game, and can offer no legitimate reason as to why I’ve stayed out of it for so long.   Why start back up now, at nearly forty years of age? Timing. A friend of a friend needed skaters, and I just happened to be available. So, in the immortal words spoken in the great Tom Cruise movie (before he went bat sh*t crazy) Risky

As we have officially entered Autumn and have begun our farewell to September, it should come as no surprise that thoughts of ghosts and ghouls have crept into my mind. Here is a little teaser of something different, slightly controversial, and a little off the wall. Oh, and just so you know, taking the new Zzzquil sleep aid and then watching random crap on your iPad? Let's just say that, well, the result is what you find below. I, as always, remain interested in your feedback. Enjoy! __________________________ The Haunters             Tristan didn’t care for being dead. She hated it, actually. For her, the worst part was never again being able to taste pizza, her mother’s apple crisp, or a good steak. Ironically, she also missed the one thing she had always complained about: the harsh, New England winter. Still, by and large, death wasn’t all that much different than life, with a few exceptions.             There was no food. It just wasn’t necessary. That pa

Thank you all for your feedback. I have reviewed everyone's comments and suggestions and, believe it or not, it was a dead-even tie. Unfortunately, it was for me as well. So, I chose both... sort of. Liking both covers as much as I did, I decided to use one for the cover of Phaedrus: Turmoil on the Frontier.  The other? I will use that for the third and final book in the Deep Space Chronicles trilogy. I am targeting a spring/summer publication for book three, entitled Ultionis: Assault on the Aurora . But which is which, you ask? (HINT: look over there ----->) Thanks again for all of your support and participation!

Several readers have inquired as to whether or not I will be continuing the Deep Space Chronicles series and, if so, when they can expect a possible sequel to The Diligent: Conflict on the Deep Space Horizon . The answers are: 1) Yes, yes I am; 2) The sequel to The Diligent will be released sometime before Christmas, 2012. In fact, just yesterday I received the artist's proofs of the cover art for Phaedrus: Turmoil on the Frontier . Once again I am indebted to Ken Wojcieszek for his stunning artwork and his ability to capture the essence of the Deep Space Chronicles series with his creativity. (SIDE BAR: I of course continue to encourage you to visit his website at  http://kenwojcieszekdesign.com/  to view his portfolio and contact him for your graphic design needs!) Ken delivered to me four possibilities, which I then narrowed down to two. I have already posted the two finalists to my followers on Facebook and Twitter, and now present them to you, my blog readers, for a

Over the years I have been connected to family and friends that are firefighters, EMT's, doctors, police officers, military personnel, business people, members of the airline industry, and of many other professions and walks of life, that were all affected, directly, indirectly, and/or emotionally by the events of September 11, 2001. Each year I remember where I was and what I was doing as if it were yesterday, as do most of you. With this short story I have tried to capture the sentiment of the day, drawing on the feelings, emotions, and experiences that many of you have shared with me over the years while attempting to express the collective in one anecdote. I know that neither I, nor anyone else, I imagine, will ever be able to fully capture the gravity of what transpired that day in written words. These words are mine, and they are for you on this day of remembrance. Thank you for letting me share. _______________________________________________             A light breez

There once was a man from Nantucket …. Ok, now that I have your attention, let's get a little "Monty Python" and talk about something completely different: the human brain. More specifically, my brain. (I did say “different.”) As we learned from the large-headed, bespectacled child in Jerry Maguire , the human head weighs eight pounds. Do you know what else weighs eight pounds? Me neither. A lot of stuff, I suppose. A bowling ball, maybe. My sister’s kitten. Perhaps my sopping wet cargo shorts after I had to jump in the pool to prevent a lounge chair, which I had unceremoniously snagged with the hose and consequently dragged into the water, from gouging the pool liner before it hit the bottom.   The point is, a lot of stuff weighs eight pounds but that stuff isn’t attached to your spine and filled with grey goo that thinks sh*t up. Well, the kitten might, but a) it’s not attached to your body; and 2) it probably thinks stuff like “if she throws that fake mouse at me one