Repopping

The birds are chirping. The tulips are blooming. The wife and kids are out of school. That's right folks it is spring break time here in the Texas Panhandle so while I am away from the computer spending time with my beloved and the fruit of our loins please enjoy these posts you may have missed the first time around.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

A Little Stinker

When I first met my wife she was a senior in high school and living with her parents. I was a cradle robbing twenty-year old college student. Also living with her parents was her older sister who had a two year old son. Yes, the same nephew who at 16 now stands several inches above six foot and hovers around three hundred pounds. The one I mentioned in a previous post about high school football.

So in the early days of our dating Corndog (I gave him that name when he was about four because he had a shaved head that reminded me of a corndog) was around a lot. And he was a funny kid, And since his Dad was absent I took it upon myself to introduce him to the finer aspects of masculine culture. Things like pro wrestling, fishing, making farting noises with your arm pits, and the joys of rubber band wars. The list could go on but I'll stop there.

He was about four or five one day when it was just me and him in the living room. My wife's parents were away as was her sister so Jennifer and I were baby sitting.

I felt a bit of pressure building in my guts so like a good future uncle, I called him over to me and instructed him to pull my finger. His eyes widened at the boisterous eruption.

"Do it again. Do it again." He squealed.

I obliged him for the sake of entertainment, and because I'd probably eaten at Taco Bell or some other such intestinal stimulating fast food joint.

He was in awe at my second acoustical outburst. After a few seconds he stuck out a tiny little finger and said, "Do it to me."

I pulled his finger at which point he grabbed onto the edge of the table and commenced to grimacing and groaning.

This is when Jennifer walked back into the room. She took one look at little Corndog and said, "What is he doing?"

"Trying to fart," I answered.

"No he's not," She said.

And in a very rough and strained voice Corndog piped in, "Yes I am." The the tiniest of pops came out and he smiled proudly.

My future wife simply shook her head and walked away.

I held my hand up and Corndog gave me a high five. It was a great moment that every uncle and nephew should share.

Love At First Sight

The story I'm going to share with y'all today is true, but for years now I've held onto to it thinking that I'd eventually use it as the beginning of a novel or short story. But I have an entire notebook full of things I plan to write and it really doesn't work for any of them so I might as well share it with y'all. Like I said this is a true story about one of my former coworkers -- I'll call him Moe.

Moe was an older guy. About ready to retire when I got to know him. He was a sharp technician, able to fix any and all of the postal equipment. Gruff, honest to a fault, and rather anti-social, Moe possessed a dry perverted sense of humor that came out when you engaged him on one on one conversation. He considered three people a crowd so if another person walked up, Moe simply walked away. Mid story, mid sentence. It didn't matter. He took part in NO group activities.

Moe was also a Vietnam Vet and an AVID whiskey drinker.

His wife died not long after I joined the maintenance ranks and given that I barely knew him at the time I did not attend the funeral or the week long wake at his house. But I've since heard the stories and have deduced that the wake was basically a week long booze fest at Moe house which resulted in a near complete dismantling of the pipes beneath Moe's bathroom sink after another inebriated coworker claimed his glass eye had fallen into the drain.

The eye was alter found in the trashcan beside the sink, but the only sober guy at the gathering still talks about his emergency plumbing job while a hoard of whiskey hounds breathed over his shoulder.

But back to Moe.

Six months or maybe a year after his wife's passing, Moe gets an email from a  lady asking if he was the same Moe Schmoe who was stationed in Mobile, Alabama in 1967 or 68 or some such year. I've forgotten the details but you get the general idea.

Now Moe recognizes this woman's name. He was stationed there and she was his girlfriend there right up until the day Uncle Sam shipped him to Vietnam.

While serving his country, Moe and the chopper he was in crash landed. Moe was severely injured and after some months recuperating was sent back to the US and eventually Amarillo. Along the way he lost contact with Alabama Annie. He got married had a son and a number of years later once again began working for Uncle Sam. This time as an electronic technician here at the old Post Office.

This his wife died. And during his long grieving period Moe consumed many many bottles of whiskey. Then Alabama Annie's email arrived.

Moe email back. The began corresponding. Then conversing via the phone and then one day Moe Tells us Alabama Annie is flying in for a visit. He takes a few days off and upon his return this is the story Moe tells ...

There I was standing in the airport concourse. Her plane has just landed and I'm scanning the faces of those debarking. I spot one lady about the right age but she short, fat, and not at all pleasant to look at so I refuse to think she is Annie so I keep looking at the other faces. None seem right so I return the the only woman and pray to myself ... Please don't be her ... Please don't be her ... Please don't be her.


I'm still reciting this though in my head when she walks straight up to me and says, "The years haven't been to damned kind to you either."

Now knowing Moe, I wonder if his please don't be her prayer was actually a mere though in his head or words he spoke aloud or at least mouthed. Either way their reunion was a bit awkward to say the least. When Alabama Annie got on the plane and headed home Moe told us he'd never been more relived in his life.

Yep, this was the story he told us the next day. But three or four months later Moe announced that Alabama Annie was moving here to Amarillo and they were getting married. That's been six or seven years ago and while Moe has retired from the USPS he and Alabama Annie are still living happily ever after in marital bliss.

Love at first sight. It's a romantic notion that lots of people believe in. But  this story shows love 40 years after first sight ain't easy but it is possible ... at least with enough whiskey.


.

A Literary Laugh

This guy makes me smile with his literary minded musical spoofs.

The 3rd one, the New Moon, Twilight spoof is my fave.

The Eyes Have It

I am lucky in the fact that there are many talented and successful writers living here in Amarillo. And most of them have been a tremendous help to me over the years. Some have advised on the crazy  business side of publishing, others have critique material I've written and helped shape me into a better writer, and still others or simply befriended me and provided genuine friendship from a like-minded soul.


Jennifer Archer has done all three and for that I am very grateful.


Jennifer is a multi-published author of several genres and soon she'll add her YA novel Through Her Eyes to that list.


In anticipation of her YA debut's release Jennifer is having a giveaway. I've cut and pasted the information from her blog here, but you may want head over there if you have any questions.

Enter the Through Her Eyes GARGANTUAN GIVEAWAY to Win a Kindle & Other Great Prizes!!!!!

Hear ye! Hear ye! Pre-order THROUGH HER EYES by Jennifer Archer (that's me) between March 1, 2011 (today) and April 4, 2011 and as my THANKS to you, I’ll enter your name into my GARGANTUAN GIVEAWAY!!




On April 6, 2011 the members of my marvelous writing critique group, The Divas, will draw eight lucky names:

• 1st & 2nd names drawn will win a Kindle 
•  
• 3rd and 4th names drawn win an iPod Shuffle
•  
• 5th & 6th names drawn win a bound leather journal, like the one Tansy finds in the cellar in THROUGH HER EYES.
•  
• 7th & 8th names drawn win an autographed copy of THROUGH HER EYES. (Give the one you pre-ordered to a friend!)

 HOW TO ENTER (Only 4 easy steps!)

1. Pre-order THROUGH HER EYES by Jennifer Archer (that's me) on one of these online sites between

    March 1 and April 4, 2011:

 Amazon

 Barnes & Noble

 Indie Bound

 2. Email a copy of your pre-order confirmation from Amazon, Barnes & Noble or Indie Bound to me at  thegargantuangiveaway@yahoo.com

 3. Along with your confirmation email, send me your address so I’ll know where to mail your prize if you win!

  

4. Tweet, Facebook, blog or simply call a friend about the THROUGH HER EYES Gargantuan Giveaway! In your confirmation email to me, explain how you spread the news about the Giveaway, and because I’m a trusting person, I’ll take your word for it!


That’s it!

  

All steps must be made and information sent to thegargantuangiveaway@yahoo.com by midnight (Central Standard Time) on 4/4/2011 to qualify! Winners will be announced on my website www.jenniferarcher.net and on my blog www.jenniferarcher.blogspot.com after April 6, 2011. Good luck!!

*Contest entrants will be added to my mailing list & receive occasional updates about my future book releases and new contests.

*If you can't fulfill any of the steps & would still like to enter, explain in an email to me and I'll add your name into the drawing!

Coincidence or Conspiracy -- You Be The Judge

I've been writing a long time now. A solid decade of storytelling with publication in mind. There have been a few successes along the way but I've sure as heck found more doors closed than open when  it comes to getting my stories out into the world and the reading public.



I've been a heathen even longer. I put a solid 25 years absolutely snubbing my nose at all organized religion.


Slowly, but surely the Catholic Church reeled me in and a year and half ago I enrolled in RCIA classes. I've been in the learning process and at Easter vigil this year I will be baptized and come into the church as a full communion taking Catholic.



If you read my last post you know I shared other good news that my short story -- turned novel -- turned back into short story/novella was now available on both nook and Kindle as part of the fabulous anthology titled, Deadly By the Dozen :12 Short Stories of Murder and Mayhem.

The title of my story is Plundered Booty.


So after years of searching, I find both religion and widespread publication at nearly the same point in time. 

Then today I see this headline in the USA Today newspaper.

Bishops boot 'booty' from revised Bible

That's right folks, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops has made the determination that a new translation of the Catholic bible is in order. Booty has been replaced by the term "spoils of war" when the New American Bible, the English-language Catholic Bible, comes out on Ash Wednesday, March 9. 


Call me crazy, but I do not think my story about cars, love, lust, Caribbean dreams and rum would sound nearly as good if titled, Plundered Spoils of War. Add I say it's good to have words like booty and virgin in the bible. The are the liturgical equivalent of a teacher saying Uranus while lecturing about the solar system. They get everyone in earshot attention. 


Now I'm in no way comparing the story I created about a good Ol' boy from Red Dirt, Oklahoma to scripture, but I do find it strange that booty is getting booted from the bible the same time my booty is actually occupying a pew.



Perhaps I'll be required to say a few Hail Mary's and Our Father's as penance for using a forbidden word in my title. Perhaps but this situation has given me an idea for the title of my work in progress. A story about a woman who believes sex is ruining her life. Not sex of her own, She isn't having it, but her senior citizen of a mother is about to get kicked out the retirement village for carrying on too load with Harold, Her 15 yo son is dying for his first taste and seems willing to break every house rule to get it. her husband is trifling with another woman and even the barn cats are keeping her up by fornicating under her bedroom window at night.



So what name could I choose for such a book that could possible offend, Catholic Church? Maybe, Out Of the Habit or She Ain't Getting None. I should be okay with either as long as I don't spell it nun.

In Better News

On a lighter and happier note I am pleased to announce the anthology containing my story, Plundered Booty is now available at both Amazon and Barnes and Noble.com

Twelve Short Stories of Murder and Mayhem written by an eclectic group of writers. Ranging from tough and gritty to light and comic and every landscape in between, DEADLY BY THE DOZEN promises to entertain, chill, thrill and inspire. Edited by award-winning thriller author Mark Terry. 

The collection includes:

A HARD LINE DRIVE TO WRONG by Jude Hardin

I DIED, I DID by Natasha Fondren

IDENTITY THEFT by Robert Weibezahl

LIVING ON THE BLOOD OF OTHERS by Betsy Dornbusch

INDIAN SUMMER by Lise McClendon

FLAT-FOOTED by Mark Terry

INTO STONE by Keith Snyder

MARIGOLD MOURNING by Merry Monteleone

LITTLE SIBERIA by Erica Orloff

A BREAK IN THE OLD ROUTINE by Simon Wood

WHEREBY IGNORANT PEOPLE ARE FREQUENTLY DELUDED AND DEFRAUDED by Mary Reed & Eric Mayer

PLUNDERED BOOTY by Travis Erwin

I believe Mark showcased his sense of humor by having my booty bring up the rear of this project.  At $2.99 this collection is going for the price as a Happy Meal at my local McDonalds and while there is no toy inside I promise you'll find find at least one story to fit your reading taste as it truly is an eclectic take on crime fiction.


Buy it now for you Kindle ...
















Or your nook ...

http://search.barnesandnoble.com/books/e/2940012258199/?itm=2


But don't feel left out if you do not yet have an e-reader as you can download a free Kindle file for your computer here.


And a free nook PC download here.


Or if you are old school and refuse to read a ebook, you can wait until the print edition comes out sometime in April. But I warn you it will cost a bit more than a Happy Meal.


.

Unbelievable

Aerial footage of the wildfire aftermath.

There is a short 15 sec advertisement before the footage.

The house they zoom in at the 1:55 mark sat directly across from my old home. Every last one of my old neighbors have lost their homes. I keep staring at the destruction with both shock and awe. Strange as it sounds this event has been harder on my psyche than the fire that destroyed my home two years ago. The area is still closed so I have been unable to speak with my friends but by all accounts everyone got out before the wind drive flames swept through the canyon.