Sunday, March 24, 2013

My Novel's Rough Draft is Complete

For months this blog has been quiet. I haven't posted as much as I used to. There are a few reasons for this.

One, the internet connection at my base is garbage. They charge nearly 40 dollars a month for a 32kB download rate. For those scoring at home, that's about as slow as the beep-boop-pshhhhhhh days of the old phone modems. It's tough to download 2013 websites with a 2003 internet connection. So bringing up this website and attempting to write something every day or every week is a challenge in patience.

But the second, and much bigger reason I haven't posted here much of late is because I have been hard at work with a much larger project.

My first solo fiction book (aka novel).

I am happy to say the initial rough draft is done. And when I say it is rough, it is really rough. As a matter of fact, it is so rough I am still deliberating on one of three different titles.

(That's ok, the way I see it, Return of the Jedi was Revenge of the Jedi until a year before release. And while filming, the movie's code name was Blue Harvest. So that's three names too.)

I can however tell you what the book is about. I don't want to spoil it, but it's about baseball, the blues, the devil, the crossroads, and a deal gone wrong. It has humor, sports action, and enough mojo to hopefully keep every reader interested. At least that's the goal.

My plan now is to sit on this draft for a little while, at least until I get back to the states, then begin the editing process. There is of course a lot of work that needs to get done before I turn this draft of 120 pages and over 62,000 words of plot into a cohesive story. But such is the creative process.

I'm definitely excited.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

The Parking Garage of Ego

It's been a long while since I posted a poem. I wrote this a few months ago. I thought the visualization was interesting.

You call it egotism
I call it self-visualization
Driving to the next level
Never pulling in to one particular spot
I'll find my place
Maybe where I feel like putting it in park
In the place I want to be
Doing the thing I want to do
and the life I want to live
Taking advantage of every opportunity
Best I can be
Being all I can be
Blazing trails for my generation off the shoulders of the past
And if that gimmick doesn't work
I'll try another
And if that means we run in different circles
Then I will see you back at square one

Monday, March 18, 2013

The Death of My First Truck

Here is an email I found that I wrote to several friends nine years ago today (March 18, 2004) in regards to the demise of my first pick-up truck, a white 1992 Mazda pick-up with an extended cab.

To those it may concern,

Alas it is with a very remorseful heart that I must pass on the news of the death of my pick-up truck. For more than four years I was with her, stood by her when times were hard, took care of her, and poured countless dollars into our relationship. But there comes a time when you have to take a step back and admit the commitment is not being recipricated. A tear streams down my eye even as I write this. We traveled many a road together, my truck and I.

From the beaches of South Florida to Michigan to Washington DC, through the southern roads of Mississippi.  She died on Tuesday, March 3rd in way a vehicle should pass - on the road. About one hour outside of Tallahassee on the way to Jacksonville in a small town called Madison. A one-horse burg with a sole mechanic to witness her passing.

But his was the offical word, I knew the moment I heard the sound in the engine it was the end. A broken rod in the engine was the assumed cause of death.

In an attempt to move on with life I acquired a 1994 Ford Crown Victoria. Every time I crank it up easily, drive smoothly down the road, brake with ease, and accelerate with V-8 power I miss my old truck even more. Hopefully the person I ended selling her to takes care of her and gets her back on the road, where she belongs. Albeit without me.

Maybe it was meant to be this way.

One friend's response:

You know, Mikey, this should be performed as a monolouge on Broadway with just you on a stool strumming an oh so fragile country ballad on a lonely guitar and a slide show featuring a veritable menagerie (did I spell that right) of memorable images of your old girl.

I weep just to imagine it.............