Travis Erwin's Blog, page 16
August 11, 2011
Meow
As most of you know, I work at the Post Office. I repair the automated machinery that sorts the mail.
Generally speaking when the equipment has a technical glitch we say it has a "bug" in it. This morning one of my coworkers opened up Delivery BarCode Sorter and discovered his bug had fur and innocent round eyes.
I have no idea how this kitten got in the building or why it crawled inside this machine, but given all the moving parts its a wonder this cat isn't ground up like a cheeseburger rather that looking like a future LolCat.
August 10, 2011
Like Butter
Metaphors and similes are dangerous things.
In the right hands they can be a clever way to get your point across. They can enrich a story and truly make it come alive to your audience, but at their worst metaphor and similes will shake your readers like the testicles of a fat man doing jumping jacks.
See what I mean? Jarring.
Or worse. All your metaphors and similes are cliched, in which case they are as worthless as tits on a bore hog.
Not too long ago I went to a childrens mass in which the homily was being delivered by a young priest. The priest had great intentions. He was trying to teach the kids about God's ability to uplift and comfort by comparing Him to a hot air balloon. Perhaps it worked for the kids but this jaded adult couldn't get passed the word choices he used ... hot air, windbag, nothingness. The homily sent my mind reeling away from the priest intended direction and truthfully I barely heard the last half.
The same thing can happen in a book. A writer must match the words with the genre. A historical writer, whether it be medieval western or even World War I writer would not want to describe something as being as shiny as a cubic zirconium.
Likewise it should match the scene's tone and tempo. You wouldn't want to write ... She wrapping her legs around his bare waist and clung to him tightly, like piece of chewed gum to to the underside of a diner table, while writing a sex scene, but that same simile might work if some guy was trying to escape a bad relationship with an overly clinging girlfriend.
I'm a big fan of metaphors and perhaps rely on them a bit too much especially when writing humor. Here is a scene from my story Plundered Booty, which is available in the anthology Deadly By The Dozen.
I joined the other salesmen in pretending to study the sticker of a candy apple red Mustang. That convertible pony was a hot ride, but it had sat in the middle of the showroom for a couple of weeks. What they were really sizing up was their chances with this new girl. To tell the truth, I wasn't even sure Junior had a chance with this one.
Hair darker than a new set of Michelin's. Lips that put the gloss on that Mustang to shame. A body with more curves than a Porsche. But it was those eyes that got me.
Bright, innocent eyes. Big and round like the headlights of a late-fifties sedan. The kind of eyes that said, I got a big block under the hood, but I'd never use my power for mere thrills. I'm only looking to get you safely to your destination. I trusted her from the very moment she batted those long black lashes and gazed my direction. Some would say that was my first mistake. And maybe they're right. Those same people would say I fell in love with her right then and there. But they're wrong about that. At the time, I still loved my wife.
The first person narrator of this story, Hank Zybeck is a car salesman, and I use many car references throughout because they fit the character. Hank is a simple man with few interests -- Cars, Pirates, and Food. So anytime I needed to show the reader what Hank was thinking I drew from this pool.
Word spread among our wives faster than a puddle of oil beneath a Chevy, and all of us got stained.
Hank is a Ford man so Chevy is almost a dirty word in his vocabulary so by using it in conjunction with an oil leak the reader understands this is a bad event without me having to actually say so.
I'm not sure I have a point to this post other than to warn against the dangers of metaphors and similes and to urge my fellow writers to stop, think about the characters world. Ponder the story at hand and create imagery that conveys the message you want to send. You don't want to be the kind of writers that portrays God as a windbag full of hot air.
In the right hands they can be a clever way to get your point across. They can enrich a story and truly make it come alive to your audience, but at their worst metaphor and similes will shake your readers like the testicles of a fat man doing jumping jacks.
See what I mean? Jarring.
Or worse. All your metaphors and similes are cliched, in which case they are as worthless as tits on a bore hog.
Not too long ago I went to a childrens mass in which the homily was being delivered by a young priest. The priest had great intentions. He was trying to teach the kids about God's ability to uplift and comfort by comparing Him to a hot air balloon. Perhaps it worked for the kids but this jaded adult couldn't get passed the word choices he used ... hot air, windbag, nothingness. The homily sent my mind reeling away from the priest intended direction and truthfully I barely heard the last half.
The same thing can happen in a book. A writer must match the words with the genre. A historical writer, whether it be medieval western or even World War I writer would not want to describe something as being as shiny as a cubic zirconium.
Likewise it should match the scene's tone and tempo. You wouldn't want to write ... She wrapping her legs around his bare waist and clung to him tightly, like piece of chewed gum to to the underside of a diner table, while writing a sex scene, but that same simile might work if some guy was trying to escape a bad relationship with an overly clinging girlfriend.
I'm a big fan of metaphors and perhaps rely on them a bit too much especially when writing humor. Here is a scene from my story Plundered Booty, which is available in the anthology Deadly By The Dozen.
I joined the other salesmen in pretending to study the sticker of a candy apple red Mustang. That convertible pony was a hot ride, but it had sat in the middle of the showroom for a couple of weeks. What they were really sizing up was their chances with this new girl. To tell the truth, I wasn't even sure Junior had a chance with this one.
Hair darker than a new set of Michelin's. Lips that put the gloss on that Mustang to shame. A body with more curves than a Porsche. But it was those eyes that got me.
Bright, innocent eyes. Big and round like the headlights of a late-fifties sedan. The kind of eyes that said, I got a big block under the hood, but I'd never use my power for mere thrills. I'm only looking to get you safely to your destination. I trusted her from the very moment she batted those long black lashes and gazed my direction. Some would say that was my first mistake. And maybe they're right. Those same people would say I fell in love with her right then and there. But they're wrong about that. At the time, I still loved my wife.
The first person narrator of this story, Hank Zybeck is a car salesman, and I use many car references throughout because they fit the character. Hank is a simple man with few interests -- Cars, Pirates, and Food. So anytime I needed to show the reader what Hank was thinking I drew from this pool.
Word spread among our wives faster than a puddle of oil beneath a Chevy, and all of us got stained.
Hank is a Ford man so Chevy is almost a dirty word in his vocabulary so by using it in conjunction with an oil leak the reader understands this is a bad event without me having to actually say so.
I'm not sure I have a point to this post other than to warn against the dangers of metaphors and similes and to urge my fellow writers to stop, think about the characters world. Ponder the story at hand and create imagery that conveys the message you want to send. You don't want to be the kind of writers that portrays God as a windbag full of hot air.
August 9, 2011
Something From Nothing
I recently caught part 2 of
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
Long time readers of this blog might remember I was highly critical of book 7
after being a huge fan of the first 6. I am happy to say I think the movies, both part 1 and 2 improved on the flawed aspects of that last novel, so I'm hereby decreeing that the movie
Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows
is better than the book. This place the story in rarefied company as far as I am concerned. Dang few movies can claim that status in my opinion but here are my top five movies that were better than the book they were based upon.
#5 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest I saw the movie long before I read the book and I'm sure picturing Jack Nicholson jaded me somewhat, but truthfully author Ken Kesey's style of story telling simple did not work well for me.
#4 Sideways Again I saw the movie first. I enjoyed it so much I sought out the novel but the characters neurosis didn't come off as endearing on the page as it did in the hands of Paul Giamatti.
#3 The Shawshank Redemption I liked Stephen Kings version titled Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption, but the movie is one of my all time favorites. Technically a novella and not a novel I didn't realize until half way through this one that it was based on King's story and that I'd read it. Not until the poster came into play.
#2 Big Fish Again, I saw the movie before the book. I sense a trend.
#1 Forrest Gump I recently had a battle with a friend over this one. Her claim is that both sucked but the super sugary sweet movie was too saccharine. I claim at least the movie made you feel good and the soundtrack was excellent. Reading the novel was pure torture for me and I lost track of the times I flung the book aside while exclaiming bullshit. I tend to avoid the top grossing movies and books. Reluctantly I usually get around to watching or reading them but not until the fad has passed. I actually read Forrest Gump when the movie was the big thing and for a while I thought the American public had gone mad but then I saw the movie and thought. "huh, that wasn't half as bad as I expected.
Okay so let's hear it, What movie/book did I forget? And a follow up. What is the best 1,2 combination of great book and stellar movie? Me? I'm going with Nobody's Fool by Richard Russo and starring Paul Newman.
#5 One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest I saw the movie long before I read the book and I'm sure picturing Jack Nicholson jaded me somewhat, but truthfully author Ken Kesey's style of story telling simple did not work well for me.
#4 Sideways Again I saw the movie first. I enjoyed it so much I sought out the novel but the characters neurosis didn't come off as endearing on the page as it did in the hands of Paul Giamatti.
#3 The Shawshank Redemption I liked Stephen Kings version titled Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption, but the movie is one of my all time favorites. Technically a novella and not a novel I didn't realize until half way through this one that it was based on King's story and that I'd read it. Not until the poster came into play.
#2 Big Fish Again, I saw the movie before the book. I sense a trend.
#1 Forrest Gump I recently had a battle with a friend over this one. Her claim is that both sucked but the super sugary sweet movie was too saccharine. I claim at least the movie made you feel good and the soundtrack was excellent. Reading the novel was pure torture for me and I lost track of the times I flung the book aside while exclaiming bullshit. I tend to avoid the top grossing movies and books. Reluctantly I usually get around to watching or reading them but not until the fad has passed. I actually read Forrest Gump when the movie was the big thing and for a while I thought the American public had gone mad but then I saw the movie and thought. "huh, that wasn't half as bad as I expected.
Okay so let's hear it, What movie/book did I forget? And a follow up. What is the best 1,2 combination of great book and stellar movie? Me? I'm going with Nobody's Fool by Richard Russo and starring Paul Newman.
August 7, 2011
A Special, My Town Monday -- Tip Of The Hat To Some Local Heroes
Of all the gifts my mother bestowed upon me, I count the love of reading as the greatest.
I went out of my way to instill this same love in my boys, but as any parent knows wanting your child to do something is not anywhere close to the same thing as having them do it.
My oldest took off reading as soon as he learned how, but my youngest was reluctant. You see he hates to fail and expects to be perfect at everything he attempts so when he couldn't read every word he came across he simply refused to read. Especially out loud, for he feared he would come to a word he didn't know and would look dumb. Of course we didn't figure all of this out at the snap of a finger. He would tell us he couldn't read and we would work with him, but he'd resist and I was beginning to think her perhaps had a learning disability.
And then an event changed everything.
Members from The Crown of Texas Arabian Horse Club here in Amarillo, Texas brought the Black Stallion Literacy Foundation to my son's school.
The Black Stallion Literacy Foundation currently with programs in nine states, motivates 1st and 4th grade children to become better readers through the gift of books and interaction with horses.
The first grade program begins with children receiving the hardcover book Little Black, a Pony during a visit at school from the book's characters, Little Black and Big Red. The program completes with a field trip to the Will Rogers Range Riders Arena for a special hands-on learning experience which includes learning stations and a second book, Little Black Goes to the Circus. The learning stations, about horses and horse care, reinforce vocabulary from the book and most importantly, each child has an opportunity to read their favorite page of Little Black, a Pony, to a horse.
For some kids this program is about the opportunity to own a book of their own. For my son it was the chance to read OUT LOUD to something that couldn't and wouldn't criticize, laugh, snicker, or think him stupid if he struggled over a word. He came home from the first event absolutely beaming. He read that first book and told us all about how great his day was. When he received his second book and actually read to that horse he describes it as the best day of his life. No I am not exaggerating or using hyperbole here, but keep in mind, six-year-olds are free with their praise and exuberance.
What is undeniable, however, is that this program turned him from a reluctance almost closet reader into a bold confidant one. He owned dozens of books already and has acquired hundreds more in the nearly two years since, but his Little Black books are still cherished by both he and myself for I love them for giving him the gift of a love of books. I wish i could scan in the picture they took of my son reading to the horse but it is taped inside his book and I fear taking it out to scan it would damage the photo.
The local group hopes to add a fourth grade program in the near future, but for now they are struggling to gather the funds to continue bringing it to as many 1st grade entry level readers as possible. In the Amarillo area, our BSLF experience with first graders as shown us that the program promotes success by motivating children to read books. Many of the children who were significantly behind at the beginning of our program became avid readers, ready to advance with their class to the next grade level.
In the second program, fourth grade children are given a copy of Walter Farley's timeless classic The Black Stallion. It has been found that these children are truly motivated to read such a wonderful book. At the end of the fourth grade curriculum the students are treated to the "Arabian Nights Show" starring the Black Stallion that will travel from Florida to Amarillo for these successful readers.
Last year six schools participated in the BSLF first grade program. We are looking forward to increasing our number of first grade schools and including fourth graders in the future.Your contribution can make it possible for us continue to touch the lives of Amarillo area students. This is our fourth year bringing the program to Amarillo area first graders and we assure your donation will make a significant difference in the lives of these children.
The first grade program requires $10.00 per student and a donation of $300.00 will allow an entire class to participate. The BSLF is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization, your donation is 100% tax deductable.
Donate to our local area Black Stallion Literacy Foundation through the Crown of Texas Arabian Horse Club
If you have more questions about the program or their needs visit their website or to provide a cash donation to help spread the program you can do so via PayPal using the club's email address cotahc@aol.com
I went out of my way to instill this same love in my boys, but as any parent knows wanting your child to do something is not anywhere close to the same thing as having them do it.
My oldest took off reading as soon as he learned how, but my youngest was reluctant. You see he hates to fail and expects to be perfect at everything he attempts so when he couldn't read every word he came across he simply refused to read. Especially out loud, for he feared he would come to a word he didn't know and would look dumb. Of course we didn't figure all of this out at the snap of a finger. He would tell us he couldn't read and we would work with him, but he'd resist and I was beginning to think her perhaps had a learning disability.
And then an event changed everything.
Members from The Crown of Texas Arabian Horse Club here in Amarillo, Texas brought the Black Stallion Literacy Foundation to my son's school.
The Black Stallion Literacy Foundation currently with programs in nine states, motivates 1st and 4th grade children to become better readers through the gift of books and interaction with horses.
The first grade program begins with children receiving the hardcover book Little Black, a Pony during a visit at school from the book's characters, Little Black and Big Red. The program completes with a field trip to the Will Rogers Range Riders Arena for a special hands-on learning experience which includes learning stations and a second book, Little Black Goes to the Circus. The learning stations, about horses and horse care, reinforce vocabulary from the book and most importantly, each child has an opportunity to read their favorite page of Little Black, a Pony, to a horse.
For some kids this program is about the opportunity to own a book of their own. For my son it was the chance to read OUT LOUD to something that couldn't and wouldn't criticize, laugh, snicker, or think him stupid if he struggled over a word. He came home from the first event absolutely beaming. He read that first book and told us all about how great his day was. When he received his second book and actually read to that horse he describes it as the best day of his life. No I am not exaggerating or using hyperbole here, but keep in mind, six-year-olds are free with their praise and exuberance.
What is undeniable, however, is that this program turned him from a reluctance almost closet reader into a bold confidant one. He owned dozens of books already and has acquired hundreds more in the nearly two years since, but his Little Black books are still cherished by both he and myself for I love them for giving him the gift of a love of books. I wish i could scan in the picture they took of my son reading to the horse but it is taped inside his book and I fear taking it out to scan it would damage the photo.
The local group hopes to add a fourth grade program in the near future, but for now they are struggling to gather the funds to continue bringing it to as many 1st grade entry level readers as possible. In the Amarillo area, our BSLF experience with first graders as shown us that the program promotes success by motivating children to read books. Many of the children who were significantly behind at the beginning of our program became avid readers, ready to advance with their class to the next grade level.
In the second program, fourth grade children are given a copy of Walter Farley's timeless classic The Black Stallion. It has been found that these children are truly motivated to read such a wonderful book. At the end of the fourth grade curriculum the students are treated to the "Arabian Nights Show" starring the Black Stallion that will travel from Florida to Amarillo for these successful readers.
Last year six schools participated in the BSLF first grade program. We are looking forward to increasing our number of first grade schools and including fourth graders in the future.Your contribution can make it possible for us continue to touch the lives of Amarillo area students. This is our fourth year bringing the program to Amarillo area first graders and we assure your donation will make a significant difference in the lives of these children.
The first grade program requires $10.00 per student and a donation of $300.00 will allow an entire class to participate. The BSLF is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization, your donation is 100% tax deductable.
Donate to our local area Black Stallion Literacy Foundation through the Crown of Texas Arabian Horse Club
If you have more questions about the program or their needs visit their website or to provide a cash donation to help spread the program you can do so via PayPal using the club's email address cotahc@aol.com
A Special, My Town Monday -- Tip Of The Hat To Some Local Heroes
Of all the gifts my mother bestowed upon me, I count the love of reading as the greatest.
I went out of my way to instill this same love in my boys, but as any parent knows wanting your child to do something is not anywhere close to the same thing as having them do it.
My oldest took off reading as soon as he learned how, but my youngest was reluctant. You see he hates to fail and expects to be perfect at everything he attempts so when he couldn't read every word he came across he simply refused to read. Especially out loud, for he feared he would come to a word he didn't know and would look dumb. Of course we didn't figure all of this out at the snap of a finger. He would tell us he couldn't read and we would work with him, but he'd resist and I was beginning to think her perhaps had a learning disability.
And then an event changed everything.
Members from The Crown of Texas Arabian Horse Club here in Amarillo, Texas brought the Black Stallion Literacy Foundation to my son's school.
The Black Stallion Literacy Foundation currently with programs in nine states, motivates 1st and 4th grade children to become better readers through the gift of books and interaction with horses.
The first grade program begins with children receiving the hardcover book Little Black, a Pony during a visit at school from the book's characters, Little Black and Big Red. The program completes with a field trip to the Will Rogers Range Riders Arena for a special hands-on learning experience which includes learning stations and a second book, Little Black Goes to the Circus. The learning stations, about horses and horse care, reinforce vocabulary from the book and most importantly, each child has an opportunity to read their favorite page of Little Black, a Pony, to a horse.
For some kids this program is about the opportunity to own a book of their own. For my son it was the chance to read OUT LOUD to something that couldn't and wouldn't criticize, laugh, snicker, or think him stupid if he struggled over a word. He came home from the first event absolutely beaming. He read that first book and told us all about how great his day was. When he received his second book and actually read to that horse he describes it as the best day of his life. No I am not exaggerating or using hyperbole here, but keep in mind, six-year-olds are free with their praise and exuberance.
What is undeniable, however, is that this program turned him from a reluctance almost closet reader into a bold confidant one. He owned dozens of books already and has acquired hundreds more in the nearly two years since, but his Little Black books are still cherished by both he and myself for I love them for giving him the gift of a love of books. I wish i could scan in the picture they took of my son reading to the horse but it is taped inside his book and I fear taking it out to scan it would damage the photo.
The local group hopes to add a fourth grade program in the near future, but for now they are struggling to gather the funds to continue bringing it to as many 1st grade entry level readers as possible. In the Amarillo area, our BSLF experience with first graders as shown us that the program promotes success by motivating children to read books. Many of the children who were significantly behind at the beginning of our program became avid readers, ready to advance with their class to the next grade level.
In the second program, fourth grade children are given a copy of Walter Farley's timeless classic The Black Stallion. It has been found that these children are truly motivated to read such a wonderful book. At the end of the fourth grade curriculum the students are treated to the "Arabian Nights Show" starring the Black Stallion that will travel from Florida to Amarillo for these successful readers.
Last year six schools participated in the BSLF first grade program. We are looking forward to increasing our number of first grade schools and including fourth graders in the future.Your contribution can make it possible for us continue to touch the lives of Amarillo area students. This is our fourth year bringing the program to Amarillo area first graders and we assure your donation will make a significant difference in the lives of these children.
The first grade program requires $10.00 per student and a donation of $300.00 will allow an entire class to participate. The BSLF is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization, your donation is 100% tax deductable.
Donate to our local area Black Stallion Literacy Foundation through the Crown of Texas Arabian Horse Club
I wanted to have a PayPal link here for any of you generous soles willing to help bring the joys of reading to a child but I am experience technical difficulties. I will get the link up ASAP.
I went out of my way to instill this same love in my boys, but as any parent knows wanting your child to do something is not anywhere close to the same thing as having them do it.
My oldest took off reading as soon as he learned how, but my youngest was reluctant. You see he hates to fail and expects to be perfect at everything he attempts so when he couldn't read every word he came across he simply refused to read. Especially out loud, for he feared he would come to a word he didn't know and would look dumb. Of course we didn't figure all of this out at the snap of a finger. He would tell us he couldn't read and we would work with him, but he'd resist and I was beginning to think her perhaps had a learning disability.
And then an event changed everything.
Members from The Crown of Texas Arabian Horse Club here in Amarillo, Texas brought the Black Stallion Literacy Foundation to my son's school.
The Black Stallion Literacy Foundation currently with programs in nine states, motivates 1st and 4th grade children to become better readers through the gift of books and interaction with horses.
The first grade program begins with children receiving the hardcover book Little Black, a Pony during a visit at school from the book's characters, Little Black and Big Red. The program completes with a field trip to the Will Rogers Range Riders Arena for a special hands-on learning experience which includes learning stations and a second book, Little Black Goes to the Circus. The learning stations, about horses and horse care, reinforce vocabulary from the book and most importantly, each child has an opportunity to read their favorite page of Little Black, a Pony, to a horse.
For some kids this program is about the opportunity to own a book of their own. For my son it was the chance to read OUT LOUD to something that couldn't and wouldn't criticize, laugh, snicker, or think him stupid if he struggled over a word. He came home from the first event absolutely beaming. He read that first book and told us all about how great his day was. When he received his second book and actually read to that horse he describes it as the best day of his life. No I am not exaggerating or using hyperbole here, but keep in mind, six-year-olds are free with their praise and exuberance.
What is undeniable, however, is that this program turned him from a reluctance almost closet reader into a bold confidant one. He owned dozens of books already and has acquired hundreds more in the nearly two years since, but his Little Black books are still cherished by both he and myself for I love them for giving him the gift of a love of books. I wish i could scan in the picture they took of my son reading to the horse but it is taped inside his book and I fear taking it out to scan it would damage the photo.
The local group hopes to add a fourth grade program in the near future, but for now they are struggling to gather the funds to continue bringing it to as many 1st grade entry level readers as possible. In the Amarillo area, our BSLF experience with first graders as shown us that the program promotes success by motivating children to read books. Many of the children who were significantly behind at the beginning of our program became avid readers, ready to advance with their class to the next grade level.
In the second program, fourth grade children are given a copy of Walter Farley's timeless classic The Black Stallion. It has been found that these children are truly motivated to read such a wonderful book. At the end of the fourth grade curriculum the students are treated to the "Arabian Nights Show" starring the Black Stallion that will travel from Florida to Amarillo for these successful readers.
Last year six schools participated in the BSLF first grade program. We are looking forward to increasing our number of first grade schools and including fourth graders in the future.Your contribution can make it possible for us continue to touch the lives of Amarillo area students. This is our fourth year bringing the program to Amarillo area first graders and we assure your donation will make a significant difference in the lives of these children.
The first grade program requires $10.00 per student and a donation of $300.00 will allow an entire class to participate. The BSLF is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization, your donation is 100% tax deductable.
Donate to our local area Black Stallion Literacy Foundation through the Crown of Texas Arabian Horse Club
I wanted to have a PayPal link here for any of you generous soles willing to help bring the joys of reading to a child but I am experience technical difficulties. I will get the link up ASAP.
Primed and Ready
Last night, as I watched Deion Sanders deliver his induction speech into the NFL Hall of Fame, I was reminded of the time he flipped me the bird.
The year was 1998. The month December. Deion was playing for his third NFL team.
Being a New Orleans Saints fan of long standing I of course despise the Atlanta Falcons so when the dirty birds drafted the brash talking, cocky, cornerback out of Florida State I was quick to decide I didn't like him either.
From Atlanta, Deion moved on to the San Francisco 49ers and oh how I hated the 49ers because in those days they were the elite team in the Saints division.
And to top it off "Primetime" as Mr. Sanders billed himself signed on with the Dallas Cowboys. Given the fact 90% of my buddies were Cowboy fans and gave me constant shit about the Saints having never won a playoff game in the history of the NFL I didn't like anything about the boys with the blue star.
I viewed Deion "Primetime" Sanders as the epitome of the primadona athlete. He had no loyalty to his team or their fans. Only the the limelight and the almighty dollar. He was a defensive mercenary willing to play for Satan himself.
The morning of Sunday December 6th I woke up in my New Orleans hotel with a considerable pounding in my head. It was me, my wife, and a buddy who was a devote Cowboy fan. We had tickets for the Saints/Cowboy game at high noon but as my feet hit the floor I wasn't sure I'd love that long, for you see I'd had a bit TOO much fun the night before.
My buddy had never been to the Superdome so we headed to the game extra early to look around. With every heartbeat the throng in my skull hit harder than Deion ever did an opposing ball carrier.
In those days the Superdome had a sort of rundown mall attached to it. Most of the stories were empty and I've heard it has never reopened since Katrina but I can't say for sure, but we arrived before the doors to the dome were open so I headed over to the mall to buy some aspirin or Tylenol. I found the pills I needed but soon discovered at 9:05 on a Sunday morning there wasn't a single place open to buy a bottle of water or a can of cola. However, I did find a place already selling beer, so I bought a Blackened Voodoo Dixie and chased my medicine down with some hair of the dog.
We wandered over to watch Buddy D rant and rave as he delivered his radio show live from the mall. By the time I finished that first beer I was feeling much better so I bought another.
When the Dome doors opened we were some of the first fans inside. This was back int he days of Troy Aikman, Emmitt Smith, and Michael Irvin so the Cowboys were still a good team though Barry Switzer had began the act of destroying them so the end was near.
For the Saints it was the dismal Mike Ditka, Kerry Collins, Wilmont Perry years. My buddy was cocky confident. I was not, but by the time I finished my third and fourth Blackened Voodoo Dixie I was starting to feel some Who Dat magic.
Our tickets were on the next to the last row of the Superdome. As we sat down I noticed a lone player was out on the field running and cutting. The swagger - the do-rag - quickly revealed it was none other than Deion "Primetime" Sanders. He'd been injured and missed a few games for "turf toe" but the talk was he was going to play this week. Feeling rather boisterous I headed down to the bottom rail of the the Superdome's third tier and began calling out.
"Hey Deion!"
"It's just a toe!"
"Suck it up!"
He continued to run wind sprints and cuts for twenty minutes and I hollered down to him the entire time, never once getting a reaction.
"You're getting too old Deion!"
"Deion! You are passed your Prime Time!"
As he finished his warm-up Deion pimp walked towards the tunnel. His cocky swagger, along with the Blackened voodoo Dixie pumping through my veins, prompted one more taunt from me. "Deion! You Suck!"
Without ever turning around Primetime raised his right hand high in the air and extended one finger as if to say, Hey, loud mouth in the upper deck. I heard you and you can kiss my ass.
A half hour later, when the rest of the team came out, Mr Sanders appeared in a fancy gold trimmed suit and he stood on the sideline that day and watched a bad New Orleans Saints team kick the crap out of the boys with the blue star. Saint won 22-3 in total domination, but last night as I watched Deion deliver is speech I couldn't help but smile realizing not everyone has been flipped off by a Hall of Famer.
The year was 1998. The month December. Deion was playing for his third NFL team.
Being a New Orleans Saints fan of long standing I of course despise the Atlanta Falcons so when the dirty birds drafted the brash talking, cocky, cornerback out of Florida State I was quick to decide I didn't like him either.
From Atlanta, Deion moved on to the San Francisco 49ers and oh how I hated the 49ers because in those days they were the elite team in the Saints division.
And to top it off "Primetime" as Mr. Sanders billed himself signed on with the Dallas Cowboys. Given the fact 90% of my buddies were Cowboy fans and gave me constant shit about the Saints having never won a playoff game in the history of the NFL I didn't like anything about the boys with the blue star.
I viewed Deion "Primetime" Sanders as the epitome of the primadona athlete. He had no loyalty to his team or their fans. Only the the limelight and the almighty dollar. He was a defensive mercenary willing to play for Satan himself.
The morning of Sunday December 6th I woke up in my New Orleans hotel with a considerable pounding in my head. It was me, my wife, and a buddy who was a devote Cowboy fan. We had tickets for the Saints/Cowboy game at high noon but as my feet hit the floor I wasn't sure I'd love that long, for you see I'd had a bit TOO much fun the night before.
My buddy had never been to the Superdome so we headed to the game extra early to look around. With every heartbeat the throng in my skull hit harder than Deion ever did an opposing ball carrier.
In those days the Superdome had a sort of rundown mall attached to it. Most of the stories were empty and I've heard it has never reopened since Katrina but I can't say for sure, but we arrived before the doors to the dome were open so I headed over to the mall to buy some aspirin or Tylenol. I found the pills I needed but soon discovered at 9:05 on a Sunday morning there wasn't a single place open to buy a bottle of water or a can of cola. However, I did find a place already selling beer, so I bought a Blackened Voodoo Dixie and chased my medicine down with some hair of the dog.
We wandered over to watch Buddy D rant and rave as he delivered his radio show live from the mall. By the time I finished that first beer I was feeling much better so I bought another.
When the Dome doors opened we were some of the first fans inside. This was back int he days of Troy Aikman, Emmitt Smith, and Michael Irvin so the Cowboys were still a good team though Barry Switzer had began the act of destroying them so the end was near.
For the Saints it was the dismal Mike Ditka, Kerry Collins, Wilmont Perry years. My buddy was cocky confident. I was not, but by the time I finished my third and fourth Blackened Voodoo Dixie I was starting to feel some Who Dat magic.
Our tickets were on the next to the last row of the Superdome. As we sat down I noticed a lone player was out on the field running and cutting. The swagger - the do-rag - quickly revealed it was none other than Deion "Primetime" Sanders. He'd been injured and missed a few games for "turf toe" but the talk was he was going to play this week. Feeling rather boisterous I headed down to the bottom rail of the the Superdome's third tier and began calling out.
"Hey Deion!"
"It's just a toe!"
"Suck it up!"
He continued to run wind sprints and cuts for twenty minutes and I hollered down to him the entire time, never once getting a reaction.
"You're getting too old Deion!"
"Deion! You are passed your Prime Time!"
As he finished his warm-up Deion pimp walked towards the tunnel. His cocky swagger, along with the Blackened voodoo Dixie pumping through my veins, prompted one more taunt from me. "Deion! You Suck!"
Without ever turning around Primetime raised his right hand high in the air and extended one finger as if to say, Hey, loud mouth in the upper deck. I heard you and you can kiss my ass.
A half hour later, when the rest of the team came out, Mr Sanders appeared in a fancy gold trimmed suit and he stood on the sideline that day and watched a bad New Orleans Saints team kick the crap out of the boys with the blue star. Saint won 22-3 in total domination, but last night as I watched Deion deliver is speech I couldn't help but smile realizing not everyone has been flipped off by a Hall of Famer.
August 6, 2011
It Was The Best of Times, It Was The WOrst Of Times
Last week I had the pleasure of experiencing my 20th high school reunion. Caprock High -- Class of 1991.
It really is both strange, yet enjoyable to hang out with folks you mostly have not see in two decades. Some things change. Some do not. Some turned out exactly how you imagined and others are shocking.
I can't say what people expected of me but they all seemed to be shocked by my size. You see for most of my school days I was of average size. Here is a shot of my 4th grade class.
Can you pick me out?
3rd row from the bottom. Right hand side. Dorky kids in the gimongous glasses and Nike sweatshirt.
Directly behind my right shoulder is my best friend Mark. He was the ladies man of our class and always taller than most.
Here is a shot of our group last weekend. 21 folks in this picture from a class of nearly 300. A dismal turnout but we had fun so it was their loss. There were a few others who attended other functions or left before this shot.
There are only four people that appear in both this and my 4th grade shot. I'll give a free copy of my E-Book Whispers to anyone who can correctly guess the two other than Mark and myself. I'm at the back over on the right hand side. Mark is immediately to my right. Despite our once being the best of friends, I have spoken to him exactly twice since graduation. First at our 10th and now at our 20th Reunion. And yet our conversation were never strained or awkward. We simply picked up chatting as if we'd gone to lunch yesterday. His wife shared a great story Mark's dad had told her about the first time Mark mentioned me in Kindergarten.
Mark went to his dad and asked if he could spend the night at my house. His dad said, Son, I don't know these people and I can't just send you off to stay with people I don't know. "But Dad," Mark said. "Travis is one of my three favorite people in the world." "And who are the other two?" his dad asked. "Well," Mark said, "There's you, God, and Travis."
He got to spend the night and better than three decades later I'm proud to say we are still friends. Though I am fairly certain my ranks has slipped a few spots over the years given Mark is married with three boys of his own these days.
But truthfully, it was nice to see and talk with everyone, even the people I wasn't friends with in school. In one breath it felt like a lifetime ago since we were sitting in Government or History class and the next second it felt as if it all happened yesterday. Of course being a bullshitter of long standing I told a story or ten as I tend to do anytime I have a willing or at least captive audience.
Here I am talking to Mark and his wife. Yes those are my Shiners on the table. One coworker worried after seeing this and several other shots on Facebook that people would get the wrong idea about me. As I told him, "I'm a writer, I have no kind of quality reputation to uphold. People expect us to be both liars and boozers. long as we are entertaining they are not disappointed by either facet of our being."
But you know what I like best about this picture? The look on my wife's face to the left of me. No doubt she
has heard whatever tale I was telling a dozen or more times and still she graces me with that gleaming smile rather than a roll of her eyes, or a shake of her head.
It really is both strange, yet enjoyable to hang out with folks you mostly have not see in two decades. Some things change. Some do not. Some turned out exactly how you imagined and others are shocking.
I can't say what people expected of me but they all seemed to be shocked by my size. You see for most of my school days I was of average size. Here is a shot of my 4th grade class.
Can you pick me out?
3rd row from the bottom. Right hand side. Dorky kids in the gimongous glasses and Nike sweatshirt.
Directly behind my right shoulder is my best friend Mark. He was the ladies man of our class and always taller than most.
Here is a shot of our group last weekend. 21 folks in this picture from a class of nearly 300. A dismal turnout but we had fun so it was their loss. There were a few others who attended other functions or left before this shot.
There are only four people that appear in both this and my 4th grade shot. I'll give a free copy of my E-Book Whispers to anyone who can correctly guess the two other than Mark and myself. I'm at the back over on the right hand side. Mark is immediately to my right. Despite our once being the best of friends, I have spoken to him exactly twice since graduation. First at our 10th and now at our 20th Reunion. And yet our conversation were never strained or awkward. We simply picked up chatting as if we'd gone to lunch yesterday. His wife shared a great story Mark's dad had told her about the first time Mark mentioned me in Kindergarten.
Mark went to his dad and asked if he could spend the night at my house. His dad said, Son, I don't know these people and I can't just send you off to stay with people I don't know. "But Dad," Mark said. "Travis is one of my three favorite people in the world." "And who are the other two?" his dad asked. "Well," Mark said, "There's you, God, and Travis."
He got to spend the night and better than three decades later I'm proud to say we are still friends. Though I am fairly certain my ranks has slipped a few spots over the years given Mark is married with three boys of his own these days.
But truthfully, it was nice to see and talk with everyone, even the people I wasn't friends with in school. In one breath it felt like a lifetime ago since we were sitting in Government or History class and the next second it felt as if it all happened yesterday. Of course being a bullshitter of long standing I told a story or ten as I tend to do anytime I have a willing or at least captive audience.
Here I am talking to Mark and his wife. Yes those are my Shiners on the table. One coworker worried after seeing this and several other shots on Facebook that people would get the wrong idea about me. As I told him, "I'm a writer, I have no kind of quality reputation to uphold. People expect us to be both liars and boozers. long as we are entertaining they are not disappointed by either facet of our being."
But you know what I like best about this picture? The look on my wife's face to the left of me. No doubt she
has heard whatever tale I was telling a dozen or more times and still she graces me with that gleaming smile rather than a roll of her eyes, or a shake of her head.
August 5, 2011
Gobble, Gobble
For Day 5 of my blog every day of August campaign, I am over here, talking turkey. 
August 4, 2011
Write Like Your Momma Is Dead
Write like your momma is dead.
This remains as perhaps the most useful writing advice I've ever received over the years, and it sounds simple enough, but I have not always had the courage to follow it.
Oh I thought I was being bold, daring, even when i wasn't and still there are times when I type out a sentence or paragraph and then delete it with the thought, No, I can't write that. Or I come up with an idea for a story and think wow, that would be great but people will think I've completely lost my mind. More and more, I eventually say to hell with what somebody might think. It's how or what I want to write and damn it I'm going to write it that way. I'm not all the way there yet, but I do believe of letting it all hang out these days.
Write like your momma is dead came from a fellow writer at a class I took some 11 years back, but an agent once told me something very similar. If your writing doesn't piss off somebody, chances are you are writing strong enough to truly reach anybody.
At least for me this statement has a slightly different meaning as it's more about passion to your words than self censorship.It's the difference between the married couple that only has sex on the first and third Saturday of each month and the couple that sneaks off the the janitor closet when the PTA meeting gets dull. Passion, it seems to me is the key sustaining anything is this life. Which leads me to another statement about writing that has always stuck with me.
Talent, luck, and perseverance. To get published at least once, a writer needs only one of these things. To have a career they need only two.
I'm especially interested to hear what my fellow writer think about this statement.
I'd like to think I have some writing talent and generally speaking I've always considered myself extremely lucky in life, and given the fact I'm still knocking on doors and rattling cages better than a decade after entering this business I do believe I am persistent. And yet, I at this point I can't honestly call my writing endeavors a career. It's certainly more than a hobby, but given that it's my 40 hours a week at the Post Office that pays the majority of the bills I can't truly say I have a writing career.
Another literary agent once told me ... No one under the age of 35 should attempt tow rite fiction as they do not have enough life experience to pull it off. I was 28 at the time. Her words pissed me off, motivated me. I was certain I'd prove her wrong by publishing at least one, if not more, novels before I turned 35. I'm not 38 nearly 39. She wins. I lost, but I still think her statement was bullshit. So I didn't disprove it these people did.
Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird was released 9 months before her 35th birthday.
Stephen King was a mere boy of 26 when Doubleday bought Carrie .
and here is more authors who published their first book before 35 ...
Junot Diaz – 29Thomas Pynchon – 26Margaret Atwood – 30John Barth – 27Ayn Rand – 29 Ernest Hemingway – 27 John Steinback – 27Joan Didion – 29F. Scott Fitzgerald – 24Francine Prose – 27Kurt Vonnegut – 30Salman Rushdie – 28Italo Calvino – 24E.L. Doctorow – 29So tell me, what do y'all think about these statements? What writing advice or statements have most stuck in your mind over the years? Ever had sex in a janitor closet? I'm only kidding about the last one. Unless of course you feel the need to confess. In that case I warn you, anything you say just may end up in a book. Yeah it will be a book published by an author older than 3 but then again it's never too late to chase a dream.
This remains as perhaps the most useful writing advice I've ever received over the years, and it sounds simple enough, but I have not always had the courage to follow it.
Oh I thought I was being bold, daring, even when i wasn't and still there are times when I type out a sentence or paragraph and then delete it with the thought, No, I can't write that. Or I come up with an idea for a story and think wow, that would be great but people will think I've completely lost my mind. More and more, I eventually say to hell with what somebody might think. It's how or what I want to write and damn it I'm going to write it that way. I'm not all the way there yet, but I do believe of letting it all hang out these days.
Write like your momma is dead came from a fellow writer at a class I took some 11 years back, but an agent once told me something very similar. If your writing doesn't piss off somebody, chances are you are writing strong enough to truly reach anybody.
At least for me this statement has a slightly different meaning as it's more about passion to your words than self censorship.It's the difference between the married couple that only has sex on the first and third Saturday of each month and the couple that sneaks off the the janitor closet when the PTA meeting gets dull. Passion, it seems to me is the key sustaining anything is this life. Which leads me to another statement about writing that has always stuck with me.
Talent, luck, and perseverance. To get published at least once, a writer needs only one of these things. To have a career they need only two.
I'm especially interested to hear what my fellow writer think about this statement.
I'd like to think I have some writing talent and generally speaking I've always considered myself extremely lucky in life, and given the fact I'm still knocking on doors and rattling cages better than a decade after entering this business I do believe I am persistent. And yet, I at this point I can't honestly call my writing endeavors a career. It's certainly more than a hobby, but given that it's my 40 hours a week at the Post Office that pays the majority of the bills I can't truly say I have a writing career.
Another literary agent once told me ... No one under the age of 35 should attempt tow rite fiction as they do not have enough life experience to pull it off. I was 28 at the time. Her words pissed me off, motivated me. I was certain I'd prove her wrong by publishing at least one, if not more, novels before I turned 35. I'm not 38 nearly 39. She wins. I lost, but I still think her statement was bullshit. So I didn't disprove it these people did.
Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird was released 9 months before her 35th birthday.
Stephen King was a mere boy of 26 when Doubleday bought Carrie .
and here is more authors who published their first book before 35 ...
Junot Diaz – 29Thomas Pynchon – 26Margaret Atwood – 30John Barth – 27Ayn Rand – 29 Ernest Hemingway – 27 John Steinback – 27Joan Didion – 29F. Scott Fitzgerald – 24Francine Prose – 27Kurt Vonnegut – 30Salman Rushdie – 28Italo Calvino – 24E.L. Doctorow – 29So tell me, what do y'all think about these statements? What writing advice or statements have most stuck in your mind over the years? Ever had sex in a janitor closet? I'm only kidding about the last one. Unless of course you feel the need to confess. In that case I warn you, anything you say just may end up in a book. Yeah it will be a book published by an author older than 3 but then again it's never too late to chase a dream.
August 3, 2011
Rise and Shine
There we were. me, my wife and our two boys watching Great White Sharks breach for whales. Shark week on Discover is a big thing in our household since Zalen, our 8year old considers himself the second coming of Jacques Cousteau.
A commercial for another show, Auction Wars I think, comes on. A husband complains that his wife spent 4 grand for a book and she retaliates by saying her husband spent 200 on a stripper pole.
Ten or fifteen minutes go by before Zalen says, "Mom, what is a stripper pole?"
His question certainly flustered my wife but not nearly as much as when our 10 year old piped up and said, "It's a pole naked women hold onto when they dance on for money."
My wife immediately shot me a glance. She didn't say a word but the question was there in her eyes. Did you tell him about stripper poles.
In self defense I turned to Tarek. "Where did you learn about stripper poles?"
"In a magazine," he answered.
My wife's brows arched higher.
"What magazine? I inquired.
"One of those fishing ones," Tarek answered. "In the back they have an ad for a stripper pole alarm clock."
So what did I do? I googled it and found this.
At least it doesn't spray glitter too.
A commercial for another show, Auction Wars I think, comes on. A husband complains that his wife spent 4 grand for a book and she retaliates by saying her husband spent 200 on a stripper pole.
Ten or fifteen minutes go by before Zalen says, "Mom, what is a stripper pole?"
His question certainly flustered my wife but not nearly as much as when our 10 year old piped up and said, "It's a pole naked women hold onto when they dance on for money."
My wife immediately shot me a glance. She didn't say a word but the question was there in her eyes. Did you tell him about stripper poles.
In self defense I turned to Tarek. "Where did you learn about stripper poles?"
"In a magazine," he answered.
My wife's brows arched higher.
"What magazine? I inquired.
"One of those fishing ones," Tarek answered. "In the back they have an ad for a stripper pole alarm clock."
So what did I do? I googled it and found this.
At least it doesn't spray glitter too.
