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Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.  I know because I’m feeling it right now.  National Novel Writing Month is all of nine days old, and I find myself, lamentably, sitting on the sidelines this year.  With a busy career, six kids, and church responsibilities aplenty, it isn’t in the cards for me at the moment, but I can’t quite extinguish the passion.  I feel my word count slipping away with every passing day, and, believe me, it hurts.

National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo as it’s affectionately called by its participants and advocates, first came to my attention almost a decade ago when I read an article in the local newspaper about a movement of writers who each dedicate the month of November to churning out a 50,000-word novel.  Fifty thousand words!  In just thirty days.  How could anyone be that crazy?

Well, I had to find out for myself.  Two years ago, I gave it a shot for the first time.  Going in, I had an outline and a plan.  The plan was to write every day of the month except for Sundays, which meant I’d have to pace myself by getting down approximately 2,700 words each writing day.  I wrote about a teenage girl in search of her father’s killer.  I didn’t have much time to think; I just wrote – two to three hours a night.  To borrow lyrics from a popular musical, I wrote like I was running out of time.  That’s precisely because I was.  The experience was grueling and exhilarating and unlike anything I’d ever done before.  I watched a story and characters come to life in the blink of an eye, and before I knew it, the month was over and 50,000 words were staring back at me.  What a rush.

Last year, I was right back at it.  In thirty days, I wrote the first 50,000 words of the sequel to a young adult science fiction novel I’d previously written.  Admittedly, my second NaNoWriMo experience was a bit messier than the first, but it was a thrill nonetheless, and when it was over, I had half a draft cooling on my laptop.  None of it was perfect, but it was beautiful and better than I ever could’ve hoped.

As I said, this year it wasn’t meant to be, but I’m still doing what I can.  I’m burning vacation days on Fridays this month to spend time on my manuscript from last year.  I’m honing my words and, hopefully, I can crank out a few new ones.  Even under the crush of life, I have words to write before I sleep.  Lots of them.  And someday soon, I’ll give NaNoWriMo another go.  When that day comes, I hope you’ll join me.  In the meantime, I’ll be pining away for a NaNoWriMo victory even bigger and more glorious than any that came before it.

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• Learn more about NaNoWriMo.

• Read a brief excerpt from Hero, my 2017 NaNoWriMo project.

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As a good “friend” once told me, “Chris, it’s not so much that you are a nerd; it’s the fact that you glory in it.”  So, in unabashed nerd style and in honor of the upcoming premiere of the new “Star Trek: Picard” television series, I’m here to count down the Top Ten Best Jean-Luc Picard Episodes of all time.  These are the voyages that captured my adolescent imagination and continue to influence my own storytelling to this day.  If you’re a Trekkie yourself, please feel free to chime in below.  If you’re not a Trekkie, then you should be, and watching these ten episodes featuring the greatest Star Trek captain ever would be a very good place to start.

10.  “The First Duty”:  “The first duty of every Starfleet officer is to the truth!”  In this episode, the captain confronts a young protégé who has strayed from the straight and narrow.  The episode also marks the introduction of Boothby, the wise old Academy groundskeeper played by “My Favorite Martian” actor Ray Walston.

9.  “Chain of Command, Part II”:  “Star Trek: The Next Generation” was always at its best when it handed Sir Patrick (yes, the actor was knighted by the queen) a script and got out of his way.  This particular outing is all about putting two marvelous actors (David Warner plays the villain) in a room together and letting them have at it.  The result is mesmerizing television.

8.  “Who Watches the Watchers?”:  TNG didn’t really hit its stride until the third season, and this was perhaps the episode when, as a kid, I noticed there was something palpably different (and better) about the show.  Picard grapples with the fallout from a member of a primitive race catching a glimpse of the Enterprise crew and their advanced technology.

7.  “The Measure of a Man”:  I don’t like courtroom dramas.  They almost always strike me as hokey, but Picard’s spirited defense of the beloved android Data is such a wonderful showcase for both the character and the actor who plays him, I’m forced to admit this list wouldn’t be complete without it.

6.  “Tapestry”:  The captain dies and meets his old nemesis, Q, at the pearly gates.  Q offers Picard the chance to go back and change the greatest mistake of his youth, which he does, only to discover that the lessons learned from that event were what shaped him into the man he would ultimately become.

5.  “Darmok”:  Picard is stranded on a strange world with an alien captain who speaks only in metaphors, and the two of them must learn how to communicate and work together before a mysterious beast kills them both.  This poignant, thought-provoking episode represents the best Trek has to offer.

4.  “Yesterday’s Enterprise”:  OK, so maybe this isn’t a true Picard episode, but I’m including it here because it’s a great time travel story that illustrates more of what makes the captain a hero:  His implicit trust in his crew (in this case, Guinan) and his resolve to do the right thing no matter the cost.

3.  “The Inner Light”:  I might argue this episode is the pinnacle of all things Trek.  Captain Picard gets zapped by a probe from an extinct alien civilization, and in a matter of minutes he lives an entire lifetime on that civilization’s home planet.  He has a wife and children and gets to experience the family life he never enjoyed otherwise.  Why?  So the long-dead alien race can be remembered.  In the final moments, the captain finds himself back on the Enterprise, alone in his quarters, with the only remnant of his experience:  A flute he learned to play in his other life.  He puts the flute to his lips and begins to play in a moment that is as haunting as it is beautiful.

2.  “Family”:  This quiet little episode comes on the heels of one of the most exciting action pieces in franchise history, and so I sometimes think it gets overlooked.  Picard returns home to the family vineyard in France after a traumatizing ordeal at the hands of Starfleet’s most lethal enemy and finds a jealous brother – and a charming young nephew who wants nothing more than to grow up to be a starship captain like his uncle.  There are, understandably, cracks in the captain’s psyche.  For perhaps the first time in the series, Picard is vulnerable, and this is where he begins to heal.

1.  “All Good Things …”:  Patrick Stewart is in every scene of this two-hour series finale.  The episode is a sort of riff on Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol (fun fact: Sir Patrick used to perform a one-man version of A Christmas Carol on Broadway) with the mischievous Q whisking Picard across past, present, and future to give him an opportunity to save the universe one last time.  I’m a sucker for great endings, and it’s the final scene of this one that always gets me.   The good captain, finally, after seven years in command of the Enterprise, joins his senior officers for their customary off-duty poker game.  “I should have done this a long time ago,” he says as he looks wistfully about the room and then begins to deal.  It’s as pitch-perfect a television send-off as you’ll ever see:  “So, five-card stud, nothing wild, and the sky’s the limit …”

Can you tell I’m just a wee bit excited to catch up with the captain?  You should be too.  “Star Trek: Picard” premieres January 23, 2020.

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“For every winner, there are dozens of losers. Odds are you’re one of them.” —www.despair.com

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If my illustrious basketball career had a pinnacle, it probably occurred when I was sixteen years old.  Youth night at the church.  The seven-year-old daughter of one of our adult leaders drove to the lane.  She put up a shot.  That’s when I reflexively reached my hand into the sky and swatted that thing all the way back to the free-throw line.  Not in my house.

Chivalry or decency or something died that day, and maybe the universe has been paying me back ever since.  Yeah, karma hurts.  And then you die.  Certainly, I’ve learned during my forty years on Planet Earth that success is fleeting but rejection is with us always.

I learned that (speaking of basketball) every time I got cut from a competitive sports team.

I learned that as a young missionary in the Dominican Republic where most invitations we extended for someone to act in accordance with our message were met with the words, “Si Dios quiere.”  Roughly translated:  “I’m too polite to tell you to buzz off.”

I learned that as a twenty-something trying to get a date.  (I still believe it’s a wonder anyone ever finds someone to marry.  Thank goodness it only takes one to say yes, right?)

I learned that as a college senior applying to law schools.  (Thank goodness it only takes one to say yes, right?)

I learn that every time I lose a trial or a hearing at work.  (While I’m pretty sure I win more trials than I lose, I’m also the guy who once lost a drug prosecution where the police found the drugs in the person’s pants.  Because, dude, apparently sometimes the drugs in your own pocket aren’t actually yours.)

I learned that as a young lawyer pitching my first novel to more than 160 disinterested publishing industry professionals – one query letter at a time.

I learned that (and continue to re-learn that) pitching subsequent writing projects to a bunch of other disinterested publishing industry professionals.  (Thank goodness – fingers crossed – it only takes one to say yes, right?)

Even now when I get a rejection it’s hard not to take it personally. I’m in a funk for about a day.  Then I scrape myself off the concrete, pretend like it never happened, and give it another go.

The funny thing is, karma or no, I’m convinced this losing bit isn’t unique to me, so get used to it.  Just remember that it’s OK to try hard things, that failure isn’t fatal, that success is all about resiliency and grit, and that you never really lose until you stop trying.  Now, please allow me to get back up on that horse.

And speaking of horse – anyone up for a game?

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Dear Christopher D. Seifert:

Thank you for sending me your query. I appreciate the opportunity to consider it!

Unfortunately, this book isn’t the right fit for my list at this time. You deserve an unequivocally enthusiastic agent as your advocate.

I wish you the best of luck in finding it a home!

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Dear Christopher,

Thank you so much for giving me the chance to consider THE ROCKET RIDERS. It’s clear that you’ve devoted a lot of hard work to this project, and your passion comes through in your writing. However, while there is a lot to be commended, I struggled to connect with the manuscript in a meaningful way, and therefore don’t believe that I would be the most effective champion for your book.

Please remember that the publishing industry is subjective, and another agent or editor may feel differently. I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you, but I wish you all the best on your road to publication.

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Thank you for thinking of us with this project. Although we won’t be pursuing representation at this time, we appreciate the opportunity to consider your work and wish you every success with it.

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Thank you for submitting this project to me. After careful review, I am not sure that I am the right agent for this project. Thank you again for querying, and I wish you the best of luck in your search for representation.

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Dear Christopher:
Thanks so much for sending along the sample pages of The Rocket Riders. I’m sorry to say, though, that I just wasn’t as completely drawn in by the material as much as I had hoped. What with my reservations, I’d better bow out. Thanks so much for contacting me, though! I really appreciate it and wish you the best of luck.

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Dear Chris,

Thank you so much for writing to me about your work. I read all of the material that I receive carefully and I really appreciate that you thought of me for your project, but I’m afraid that it’s not quite right for me at the moment. I wish you the very best of luck in finding the right agent to represent your work, and thank you again for thinking of me.

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Hi Chris,

Thanks for thinking of me.  Your query looked interesting, but I’m overwhelmed with material at the moment and not really taking on new clients.  Good luck with your writing, and search for representation.

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Dear Author,

Thanks so much for letting us take a look at your materials, and please forgive me for responding with a form letter.  The volume of submissions we receive, however, makes it impossible to correspond with everyone personally. 

Unfortunately, the project you describe does not suit our list at this time.  We wish you the best of luck in finding an agent and publisher for your work, and we thank you, once again, for letting us consider your materials.

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Dear Christopher,

While I appreciate the opportunity to review THE ROCKET RIDERS, I’m afraid I must pass. I wish you good luck in finding the right agent to represent you and your writing.

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Dear Chris,

Thank you so much for your submission. Unfortunately I don’t feel I’m the appropriate agent to represent your work as the story just isn’t right for me.

I’m sure another agent will feel differently, and with the vast array of opinions in the industry, I wish you the best in finding the right representation.

Thanks again for thinking of me.

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I’ve decided to let my kids write my August blog post for me.  Here are some of the best Seifert kid quotes we’ve collected over the years. Enjoy:

“A kiss means ‘I love you?’  Whoa!  I didn’t even know that!”  Strange but true.

“Daddy rhymes with money!”  Imperfect rhyme though it is.

“My bum honked like a car!  My bum is tricky!”  Lay off the horn, will yah?

“This choking hazard is delicious!”  Most of them are.

“I would kick him in the face!  I can.  I have legs.  And I have feet.”  Three year old dispute resolution.

“Mom, can I have another hot dog wrapped in a mattress?”  Known in some corners as a pig in a blanket.

“What’s the point of having a house if we can’t even play in it?”  Indeed.

“You’re probably the best mom I’ve ever had.”  Probably.

“I know why Daddy wears a wedding ring.  It’s so people don’t look at him and say, ‘Oooo, who is that handsome man?’”  Yes, I’m spoken for.

“Don’t say that!  You’ll make everyone embarrassed.”  Because when your older sibling tells you your underwear is showing, everyone else’s embarrassment is foremost on your mind.

“See that little pickle right there?  That’s where I’m headin’ for.”  This is what’s known as purposeful hamburger consumption.

“I’m looking for an eraser!  Erasers are not ubiquitous around here!”  No.  No, they’re definitely not.

“I accidentally ate it on purpose.”  Another diet plan bites the dust.

“Kids just wanna do what they wanna do.  Mama, you’ve just gotta learn more about that.”  We must have Ph.D.’s in that by now.

“OK!  Then you will just have to deal with screaming!”  Is this what you call emotional blackmail?

“My hurt is footing.”  That’s boo tad.

“They licked the bladder clean?”  Nursery rhymes gone horribly wrong.

“I am so proud of myself for losing a tooth!”  There’s a participation trophy for that.

“This was a little out-flated, so I inflated it.”  Inflate-gate.  Take that, Tom Brady!

“Can I have another drink of milk?  My tongue is still spicing.”  Milk.  It does a spicing good.

“So, have you ever been to Hades before?”  Casual mealtime conversation during our family’s first trip to the restaurant known as Hardees.

“I was thinking about how handsome men look, and I was thinking about Chris. … I was thinking about Chris. … You made a good choice. I need pictures of all the men in the world without beards and mustaches …”  Sing it, girl!  But you’re still not going on a date until you’re forty.

“Did you know that bees can fly up your nose holes?”  Happens to the best of us.

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Chris lives in Lincoln, Nebraska, with his wife, Sara, and their six young children.  He enjoys stories by Ray Bradbury, starry night skies, and cherry limeade.  Follow Chris on Twitter @seif_train or on Facebook @christopherdseifert.

The rocket surged upward with a blast of fire soon punctuated by the thunder of applause.  The night itself was near-perfect, marred only by the knowledge I was watching a mirage, a smoke and mirrors light show projected onto the Washington Monument, and not the real thing.  That’s where I was on Saturday, July 20, 2019 – fifty years to the day since human beings first did the once unthinkable by planting boots on lunar soil.  Sadly, I wasn’t around when it really happened.  I didn’t get to live in a nation galvanized to such a righteous cause by the soaring oratory of its president.

A lot can change in fifty years.  Nowadays, I generally tune out politicians.  More than a few of them strike me as narcissists or blowhards or bullies or cowards, and sometimes all of the foregoing at once.  (I was always put off by how my college poli sci classes were populated with people who liked to hear themselves talk and were dead set on law school.)  Then along comes a politician who forces me to sit up and listen.  We’re going back to the moon in five years?  Poppycock.  More smoke and mirrors, right?  As I said, I don’t trust most politicians any farther than I can throw them, but this time I can’t help but hope.

Let me tell you somewhere else I was on Saturday.  I spent the late morning/early afternoon at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum in Chantilly, Virginia, and as I stood there at the intersection of the Wright brothers and the sophisticated death machines of World War II, I suddenly realized how quickly progress can happen after a single, singular breakthrough.  The once unthinkable becomes reality and then so much more.  The giant leap from Orville and Wilbur to Neil and Buzz isn’t, I suppose, as far as one might think.

So, this is where I go off the rails, but please stick with me here:  I believe in my heart of hearts that mankind was meant to conquer the stars.  We’ll get back to the moon.  We’ll push on to Mars.  And that’s just the beginning.  I don’t have all the answers, and I certainly don’t own a crystal ball.  I’m just armed with confidence in the power of man’s ingenuity and faith in the human spirit.  Yes, I’m a hopeless optimist, but trust me on this one.  We’ll get there.

Would that it were in my day.  And who knows?  Maybe it will be.  A lot can change in fifty years.

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Follow me on Twitter @seif_train.

Learn more about me.

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