Celluloid Heroes Dance Before My Eyes

In years past, a small percentage of books became movies. Currently it seems, each movie that travels across the silver screen begins with a hard front cover, a hardback cover and a plethora of paper and ink in between.

Being a writer, I would love nothing more than to see one of my novels I had pumped so much energy into flying across that screen. As an author, I would feel complete.

No time for wishful thinking. We’ll look forward to that at a later date.

At the moment, (and I don’t know why) an awkward thought has crossed my mind (and this happens more frequently than not), the mere mention of the silver screen has brought about my childhood and teenage years spent staring at the majestic drive-in movie screen.

As a child, my father cut a piece of plywood that would fit into the backseat of our Buick. He would cover that with quilts, blankets and pillows so my sister and I could lie down in the back and watch the movie until we fell asleep. In those days movies were double features that began with a cartoon . . . ahhh . . . the good ole days.

I remember there was a centrally located building that housed the camera equipment and a snack bar.

As a sixteen year old, the drive-in theater had already begun to phase themselves out. Fortunately (or so I thought), there was one still close to me. I found it to be a place where you could fog up the windows of your car. Of course, this was accomplished with a few smooches and nothing more.

All in all, this has been a nice little drive down memory lane. Hmmm, I wonder if there may be one of those elite forms of entertainment left. I guess I’ll have to jump on my favorite search engine and take a look and see . . . then again, maybe not. 

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Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief, Even Might Find a Little Time to be a Thief . . . Probably Not

Several years ago I began writing a humorous piece on a couple remodeling their home. They were not performing the work themselves, but moreover acting as the general contractor.  

This is something that has become the norm, especially since all of the D.I.Y. programs have appeared across the stupid screen. Please don’t take this as an insult, for the one penning this blog absorbs entirely too much of the screen of stupidity himself.

However, I can say that I have one up on the weekend home-improvement guy. My father was a carpenter. My grandfather was a carpenter and my uncle was a carpenter. So guess what I decided to be when I grew up . . . you got it . . .  a carpenter, and graduated from high school a year early to participate in this noble profession.

I cut my teeth after school and on weekends, when I was fourteen learning how to remodel homes and then moved into new home construction, From foundations to roofing. I built everything from the simplest rancher to four thousand square foot homes, in the ritziest of neighborhoods.

I then moved on to commercial work,  finding it offered so much more. By the age of twenty three I began my first superintendent’s job, albeit small, to me I was raising the Empire State building.

Years passed and jobs in size grew, until I abandoned it all in my early thirties for a position in a trade show fabrication shop for a pharmaceutical company.

Here I learned how to build cabinets and some of the wildest displays you could imagine, not to mention traveling the length and breadth of the United States.

Due to health reasons I left this line of work after sixteen years and of all things, chose writing as my next attempt at a career.

So far things  are going well, at least they look good on paper, (no pun intended) but not as good as I would like as far as lining the wallet goes. I’ve published four novels, with a fifth on the way.

What I have learned from this lifelong experience is, never give up!

As far as being an author, I don’t believe I could have chosen a more enjoyable vocation, but if you don’t get your books in front of eyeballs that will read them, you may as well scribble on paper with a crayon. If you want to be a successful writer, then remember these three words…Marketing! Marketing! Marketing!

Pick One Quick, You Never Know if it Will be There Next Year

Occasionally when writing, I am called upon to produce a fictitious celebration or holiday, though as of yet have not produced one quite as unique as the many we reside with each year.

Three months ago I passed through a new ritual entitled, “Christmas in July.” I’ll have to admit I was taken aback, not having this lackluster summertime holiday preceded by, “Thanksgiving in June.”

Of course, we mustn’t forget The Great Pumpkin and all of the candy that failed to arrive during the month of May’s, “Halloween.”  

Wait a minute . . . does this move “Easter” back to March, or February (since this sacred holiday is sometimes celebrated in March) or does it stay where it is, being there is plenty of room left on the calendar?

Ya know, there is one thing I never understood. What does Jesus hanging on a cross to save us all, have to do with a bunny rabbit that lays eggs? Even though I have heard several explanations or theories if you will, I’m still unable to reconcile the two.

There’s not much that can be done to alter New Year’s Day, of course I don’t doubt someone will try.

Meanwhile, take advantage of tonight and the chocolate toxic syndrome reserved for you and the little ghosts and goblins who occupy your abode. Happy Halloween!

Next Time . . . No . . . There Won’t be a Next Time

I found out the hard way what it means to sustain a head injury. Three weeks in the hospital, and so far one week convalescing at home,  followed by an uncertain recovery time.

It’s much like a baseball game. You’re in the bottom of the ninth, with an infinite number of strikes, and nowhere to go.

Being an author you’d think this would supply  a sufficient amount of fodder to keep me going for some time; however, this is not the case. It actually produced the opposite affect. I spent very little time remembering what had transpired and what I did remember were mere bits and pieces, leaving it impossible to craft a blog from.

Things are getting better but still a bit foggy. What I’ve learned about this unique experience is God is good all the time. Secondly, keep your head off the ground and out of danger, and if you’re looking for a story, look somewhere else.

Take Care With This One and Pay Attention to Your Local Authorities

I have written about snowstorms, volcano’s, earthquakes, and tornado’s, but have never put pen to paper, concerning hurricanes. Now it just so happens we have one named Florence headed our way in the next few days, which also means we will have an individual named Jim Cantore dodging debris over the airways.

Hurricane Florence at this time is a Category 4 on the Saffir-Simpson Scale, with 130mph sustained winds and higher gusts.

The Saffir-Simpson Scale measures the ferocity of hurricanes on a scale of 1 to 5.  A Category 1 is the weakest, with sustained winds beginning at 74mph and minimal damage. A Category 5 is the strongest, with sustained winds beginning at 156mph with catastrophic damage.

Once a hurricane reaches Category 3 status, it becomes a major hurricane. Hurricane Florence could easily become a Category 5 before landfall sometime Thursday. I urge everyone in Florence’s possible track to heed evacuation orders and use good sense. And I ask God to protect all those in Florence’s path.

Writing a Novel is Like a Good Game of Golf, Both are in a Genre of Their Own

I’d have to say I’m passionate when it comes to writing, especially in the science fiction, fantasy and action adventure genres. I’ve published four novels, soon to finish the fifth and will return to number six, which has been patiently waiting for completion to come its way.

I’ve penned numerous short stories, write a weekly blog and a monthly newsletter. After all this work, the one thing I’ve never written about is golf.

Now I know that my last statement, in and of itself, seems a bit off kilter. You may even be thinking, what’s this guy talking about? This is where I need you to trust me and follow my logic; however, illogical it may seem.

I used to play this so-called, game of kings, though found it to be more of a throw your club, along with a cuss word or two. Hit an errant shot, followed by a cuss word or two. Reach the green in two and then four putt, followed by a string of cuss words and finally spending entirely too much time searching for lost golf balls with an occasional cuss word.

What you must remember, is all this fun comes after spending a small fortune on equipment and dozens upon dozens of little white balls.

What you really need to purchase, and so far I’ve been unable to find, is a golf swing.

When it Rains, Sometimes it Rains and Rains and Rains, Then it Pours

Even if I wanted to take a break from writing and go outside to play, it would be impossible. You see, I live in the Mid-Atlantic States about ninety miles from the coast. We have received thirty inches of rain this summer, with more in the forecast. I’ve always been fascinated by weather, and the wet season we’re experiencing is fraught with good and bad. The driveway is full of ruts and there is standing water in the back yard. The grass grows faster than we can cut it and the mold spores are off the charts.

When I weigh the good against the bad, there is no comparison. We have a bumper crop of fresh vegetables, surrounded by beautiful green trees and foliage. The water table hasn’t been this high in years. The items we reckoned as bad were nothing at all.  

 A bounty of water for all to use, made this summer’s rain a blessing.