Man Martin's Blog, page 220
July 5, 2011
A Random Blog About Anniversaries and Jacksonville, Florida
Nancy and I have been married thirty years. Yesterday was our anniversary, so that makes it thirty plus one.
I'm in Jacksonville, Florida. When my brother Homer and sister Lorrie heard we were headed there, I won't go so far as to say they rolled their eyes, but there was a tell-tale wobble around the corneas that suggested they were about to roll. Homer said, "Let me see if I can think of some good restaurants for you to go to in Jacksonville." He considered carefully and said, "I don't think there are any good restaurants in Jacksonville."
The first thing we discovered upon reaching Jacksonville is that everyone here rides a bicycle. It's like it's required. This may sound like a good thing, idyllic, even. But it's not quite as jolly when you're navigating through nomadic herds of two-wheelers in your rented Buick. Bicycles are like blue-footed boobies. They're cute, and you might wish there were more of them around, but you reach a point of satiation. Enough is enough.
We were informed three times in a three minute conversation with the desk clerk that Jacksonville has a great bar scene. Maybe, but I have been to the Florabama. Nothing in the way of bars can impress me now.
Let me say now that I LOVE Jacksonville. I have a broad and deep streak of the Vulgarian in me, and there's a part of me that just loves to get down and roll in it once in a while. Jacksonville is crass. Jacksonville is tacky.
Feels like home.
But then again, anywhere with a woman you've loved and lived with thirty years and a day is home. Right?
I'm in Jacksonville, Florida. When my brother Homer and sister Lorrie heard we were headed there, I won't go so far as to say they rolled their eyes, but there was a tell-tale wobble around the corneas that suggested they were about to roll. Homer said, "Let me see if I can think of some good restaurants for you to go to in Jacksonville." He considered carefully and said, "I don't think there are any good restaurants in Jacksonville."
The first thing we discovered upon reaching Jacksonville is that everyone here rides a bicycle. It's like it's required. This may sound like a good thing, idyllic, even. But it's not quite as jolly when you're navigating through nomadic herds of two-wheelers in your rented Buick. Bicycles are like blue-footed boobies. They're cute, and you might wish there were more of them around, but you reach a point of satiation. Enough is enough.
We were informed three times in a three minute conversation with the desk clerk that Jacksonville has a great bar scene. Maybe, but I have been to the Florabama. Nothing in the way of bars can impress me now.
Let me say now that I LOVE Jacksonville. I have a broad and deep streak of the Vulgarian in me, and there's a part of me that just loves to get down and roll in it once in a while. Jacksonville is crass. Jacksonville is tacky.
Feels like home.
But then again, anywhere with a woman you've loved and lived with thirty years and a day is home. Right?
July 4, 2011
STOOPID Contest #5
Happy July 4th!
Can you identify the famous 1960's tv show represented by this picture? Send your answer along with your name and address to manmartin@manmartin.net One lucky winner from the correct answers will be chosen to get a free autographed copy of Paradise Dogs delivered in person to your home, hovel, or mansion by a PAID REPRESENTATIVE OF THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT!
"I, J. Henry Farnsworth III, being of sound mind and body, in bequeating my estate of $100 million, have decided to..."
Last Week's Puzzle
"Our wives aren't going to let us near them after this."
We Have a Wiener! Marti Lawrence of Grain Valley, MO correctly guessed the answer as "The Untouchables." Marti says there are two types of people in this world: those that divide the world into two types of people, and those that don't. Marti wins an autographed copy of Paradise Dogs ("Simply brilliant," says Booklist.)
Can you identify the famous 1960's tv show represented by this picture? Send your answer along with your name and address to manmartin@manmartin.net One lucky winner from the correct answers will be chosen to get a free autographed copy of Paradise Dogs delivered in person to your home, hovel, or mansion by a PAID REPRESENTATIVE OF THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT!
"I, J. Henry Farnsworth III, being of sound mind and body, in bequeating my estate of $100 million, have decided to..."Last Week's Puzzle
"Our wives aren't going to let us near them after this."
We Have a Wiener! Marti Lawrence of Grain Valley, MO correctly guessed the answer as "The Untouchables." Marti says there are two types of people in this world: those that divide the world into two types of people, and those that don't. Marti wins an autographed copy of Paradise Dogs ("Simply brilliant," says Booklist.)
July 3, 2011
What Do You Do When the Trail is Cold
Under the steady pressure to promote my second novel, Paradise Dogs, I have laid aside writing The Bread of Heaven and returning to it now feels like climbing back into a wet bathing suit. The hot freshness of inspiration isn't there now. The trail is cold, and the swallows have flown back to Capistrano.
These mixed metaphors are a symptom of writer's block.
I have to have faith that if I go back and reread, tinker, tamper, and forge ahead, the story will revive for me. When you get back into a wet bathing suit, after all, it's cold and clammy at first, but then it warms to the wear and becomes comfortable again.
My fellow writers out there, what are your tricks for getting the swallows to return once the trail is cold?
These mixed metaphors are a symptom of writer's block.
I have to have faith that if I go back and reread, tinker, tamper, and forge ahead, the story will revive for me. When you get back into a wet bathing suit, after all, it's cold and clammy at first, but then it warms to the wear and becomes comfortable again.
My fellow writers out there, what are your tricks for getting the swallows to return once the trail is cold?
July 2, 2011
Lauren Groff
I have often wondered why writers as a group aren't better people than they are, but come to think of it, most writers I know are kind, generous, thoughtful, and compassionate. Sheri Joseph, James Iredell, Chris Bundy, Doug Crandell, Sonny Brewer, Joshilyn Jackson, Steve Yarborough. At the top of this list place Lauren Groff.
Last night Lauren left her four-month-old baby to introduce me at Books, Inc. This for an audience, counting Lauren herself, of four people. (Two of the others were my wife and sister-in-law.) I cannot tell you how gracious and effusive she was in her remarks. Afterwards, as audiences sometimes feel obliged to show interest, there were questions. I wanted to direct at least a few of these towards Lauren to talk about her books Delicate Edible Birds (short stories) The Monsters of Templeton (novel) and her forthcoming Arcadia (Out next March and a fine gift for all occasions.) But she persisted in turning the attention back on me.
Lauren is gracious. Lauren is kind. Lauren is generous. Surely there must be times she gets in a bad mood or says a mean thing, but not as far as I'm concerned. Lauren is my angel.
Last night Lauren left her four-month-old baby to introduce me at Books, Inc. This for an audience, counting Lauren herself, of four people. (Two of the others were my wife and sister-in-law.) I cannot tell you how gracious and effusive she was in her remarks. Afterwards, as audiences sometimes feel obliged to show interest, there were questions. I wanted to direct at least a few of these towards Lauren to talk about her books Delicate Edible Birds (short stories) The Monsters of Templeton (novel) and her forthcoming Arcadia (Out next March and a fine gift for all occasions.) But she persisted in turning the attention back on me.
Lauren is gracious. Lauren is kind. Lauren is generous. Surely there must be times she gets in a bad mood or says a mean thing, but not as far as I'm concerned. Lauren is my angel.
July 1, 2011
Greetings from Sunny Micanopy
Nancy and I will be spending our anniversay - our 30th - with my brother and sister-in-law Homer and Lorrie in beautiful Micanopy, Florida. (Nancy and I were married on the 4th of July.)
Homer has a flock of 16 barred roc hens of which I am openly jealous. I have a single barred roc hen, and she is only a bantam.
We spent a portion of the afternoon trying to corrale the birds into their fancy coop, but the chickens weren't having it. Chickens cannot be bullied. And if you've ever tried running down a chicken, you'll know how astonishingly fast they are. It is not only frustrating chasing chickens, but humiliating: being outrun by a bird that doesn't even trouble to flap its wings. I offered them cheese, which I told Lorrie my own chicken is crazy-mad for. Their chickens were similarly fond, but it offered insufficient inducement to lure them into the coop. Finally we just let them roost in the orange trees for the night, leaving the issue of the chicken coop for another day.
I will say this, my chicken is smaller in number and size, but she is better behaved. She is not happy about it when it's time to go to the coop, but she generally cooperates. When she senses me near me, she squats and spreads her wings, bracing for my touch. Nancy says Sorche likes being picked up, but this is an overstatement. She does not resist being picked up. And if she runs away, she gives up pretty quickly.
Anyway, I read tonight at Books, Inc. in Gainesville, and Lauren Groff has kindly - kindly! kindly! - consented to introduce me. Then Nancy and I will spend a lovely anniversary here. Sorche is at home. In her coop.
Homer has a flock of 16 barred roc hens of which I am openly jealous. I have a single barred roc hen, and she is only a bantam.
We spent a portion of the afternoon trying to corrale the birds into their fancy coop, but the chickens weren't having it. Chickens cannot be bullied. And if you've ever tried running down a chicken, you'll know how astonishingly fast they are. It is not only frustrating chasing chickens, but humiliating: being outrun by a bird that doesn't even trouble to flap its wings. I offered them cheese, which I told Lorrie my own chicken is crazy-mad for. Their chickens were similarly fond, but it offered insufficient inducement to lure them into the coop. Finally we just let them roost in the orange trees for the night, leaving the issue of the chicken coop for another day.
I will say this, my chicken is smaller in number and size, but she is better behaved. She is not happy about it when it's time to go to the coop, but she generally cooperates. When she senses me near me, she squats and spreads her wings, bracing for my touch. Nancy says Sorche likes being picked up, but this is an overstatement. She does not resist being picked up. And if she runs away, she gives up pretty quickly.
Anyway, I read tonight at Books, Inc. in Gainesville, and Lauren Groff has kindly - kindly! kindly! - consented to introduce me. Then Nancy and I will spend a lovely anniversary here. Sorche is at home. In her coop.
June 29, 2011
Thoughts on Don't Quit Your Day Job
I have recently finished Don't Quit Your Day Job, edited by Sonny Brewer a collection of essays on writers' previous employment. I don't know if Sonny intended it quite this way, but the cumulative effect for a writer is very inspiring. It made me feel like the work I do is worth doing and the dues I pay are worth paying.
There's a temptation with any anthology to skip around, cherrypick the most promising-looking pieces first. I recommend with this book reading straight through. Brewer arranged these in such a way the book as a subtle arc. When you reach Steve Yarborough's concluding essay, you think, "Yes, right," and there's a fulfilling feeling of reaching a satisfying destination.
One of the consistent themes - and maybe when you're asked to write for a book like this, it's only natural that this emerges as a topic - is manual, even menial labor. Only John Grisham, a lawyer, writes about a white-collar job, and even he describes himself as the bottom rung of the ladder. Everyone else writes about construction jobs, pizza delivery, garbage collection. Surely a writer somewhere started out as a CFO or bank president, right? The point of many of these stories is that as much as we writers bitch about how hard we work, writing ain't nothing compared to real work. (Tom Franklin's essay about pizza delivery forcibly reminded me of my own days working for Domino's.)
A frequently recurring character in these essays is a co-worker doomed, unlike the author, to work as a builder, pizza-delivery person, or garbage collector for the rest of his life. Sometimes the coworker is likable, sometimes detestable, sometimes admirable, and sometimes pitiable. The bosses are almost all despicable: the worst one drugged and raped his female employees as one of the perks of being a bar owner.
Not every writer can point to some specific thing his day job taught him about writing. Often what the writer learns is I sure hate construction work, pizza delivery, or garbage collection. But it's clear reading vivid evocative descriptions that the sensory details of these day jobs imprinted themselves deeply. The strange thing is, we can't wait to lock ourselves in our towers and write. But then, so often, what we write about is the people we left back on the construction site.
There's a temptation with any anthology to skip around, cherrypick the most promising-looking pieces first. I recommend with this book reading straight through. Brewer arranged these in such a way the book as a subtle arc. When you reach Steve Yarborough's concluding essay, you think, "Yes, right," and there's a fulfilling feeling of reaching a satisfying destination.
One of the consistent themes - and maybe when you're asked to write for a book like this, it's only natural that this emerges as a topic - is manual, even menial labor. Only John Grisham, a lawyer, writes about a white-collar job, and even he describes himself as the bottom rung of the ladder. Everyone else writes about construction jobs, pizza delivery, garbage collection. Surely a writer somewhere started out as a CFO or bank president, right? The point of many of these stories is that as much as we writers bitch about how hard we work, writing ain't nothing compared to real work. (Tom Franklin's essay about pizza delivery forcibly reminded me of my own days working for Domino's.)
A frequently recurring character in these essays is a co-worker doomed, unlike the author, to work as a builder, pizza-delivery person, or garbage collector for the rest of his life. Sometimes the coworker is likable, sometimes detestable, sometimes admirable, and sometimes pitiable. The bosses are almost all despicable: the worst one drugged and raped his female employees as one of the perks of being a bar owner.
Not every writer can point to some specific thing his day job taught him about writing. Often what the writer learns is I sure hate construction work, pizza delivery, or garbage collection. But it's clear reading vivid evocative descriptions that the sensory details of these day jobs imprinted themselves deeply. The strange thing is, we can't wait to lock ourselves in our towers and write. But then, so often, what we write about is the people we left back on the construction site.
June 28, 2011
Interview with Mike Cowan
This morning I was interviewed by Mike Cowan on WJFL in Tennille, Georgia. He asked me where I got the inspiration for Paradise Dogs. Here's my answer, in which I give away a multi-million dollar business idea!
By the way, check the previous blog for your chance to win an autographed copy of Paradise Dogs. BONUS HINT: Costar Kevin Costner
By the way, check the previous blog for your chance to win an autographed copy of Paradise Dogs. BONUS HINT: Costar Kevin Costner
June 27, 2011
STOOPID CONTEST #4
Can you identify the Robert DeNiro movie represented by this picture? Send your answer along with your name and address to manmartin@manmartin.net One lucky winner from the correct answers will be chosen to get a free autographed copy of Paradise Dogs delivered in person to your home, hovel, or mansion by a PAID REPRESENTATIVE OF THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT!
"Our wives aren't going to let us near them after this."Last Week's Puzzle
"...and five dead on the highway. Now, here's Jeff with the weather."
We Have a Wiener! Carol Horton of Rydal, Georgia correctly guessed the answer as Bad News Bears . Carol says the problem with fog is it never comes on a clear day when you can get a good look at it. Carol wins an autographed copy of Paradise Dogs ("Required reading," says The New York Post .)
June 26, 2011
Signing at Gottwals
I'm still somewhat fatigued after driving back from Macon this morning. Thanks to Mom and Dad for putting me up (and up with me). And thanks to Shane Gottwals for opening his store to me, and all the folks who showed up.
Here's a quick clip about Gotwalls.
DON'T FORGET - Monday a new puzzle in the STOOPID CONTEST
Here's a quick clip about Gotwalls.
DON'T FORGET - Monday a new puzzle in the STOOPID CONTEST
June 25, 2011
Pink Gator Tour: McDonough
I had a great time at Bell, Book, and Candle in McDonough, Georgia. Thank you Caprice, Zubie, and especially my beautiful sister-in-law Donna for making this such a success. Here's a video of Caprice, the owner, explaining how she came to open the store.
OH! Don't forget - Monday I'll announced the BIG WIENER of the STOOPID Contest and put up a new puzzle!
OH! Don't forget - Monday I'll announced the BIG WIENER of the STOOPID Contest and put up a new puzzle!
