"Why do they [write] for their money? Why do they [work] for short pay? They ain't getting nowhere and they're losing their share. They must have gone crazy back there." — Michael Burton (paraphrased)
It's dripping rain in the Poconos. It's iffy at Baltusrol. It's hot as fire here, but it's supposed to rain tomorrow. If the afternoon arrives and the race is delayed, I'm not going to watch NASCAR drivers pet their puppies (um, woe be unto thy dirty minds) in the motorcoach lot. I may mow the …
Continue reading Them Steadily Depressing, Lowdown, Mind-Messing Social Media Blues
Don't it beat all? Ain't things out of control? Damndest thing ever I seen. That's what my old man used to say. Damndest thing ever I seen. At the very least, three or four times a day. I guess he was easy to impress. One of the beauties of baseball is that, no matter how …
I intend to write a chapter of fiction in my sixth novel, which does not, of yet, have a title. This is typical of the way I sing scales in advance of a writing chorus. Only Americans would spend more than two years narrowing down a gigantic field of presidential candidates to the two …
I have a clue where the next novel is headed. I can see the general direction. Out on the horizon lies a lovely sunset. I've just got to figure out how to get there. As the cowboy in the old Texas tune "I'm a Ro-Deo-Deo-Deo Cowboy (Bordering on the Insane)" expresses: Gimme a beer or …
Times are changing. The Republicans are acting like the Democrats. The Democrats are having a fine old time watching. Next week, I expect, the Democrats will act, in response, like Republicans used to. And I'll be glad that all I've got to do is vote. I didn't watch much of the GOP -- when I …
The Boston Red Sox were off Monday night. They're playing the San Francisco Giants at Fenway Park tonight. Although there were a couple movies in which I had some interest, I idly watched the Republican National Convention out of perverse fascination. It was similar to the reason why, a week earlier, I inexplicably watched an …
The manuscript of Cowboys Come Home is slightly more than four hundred pages, 94,000 words, double-spaced and twelve in point, and the manuscript of the as-yet-unnamed sixth novel is six pages and 1,600 words, but things are looking up. It now has an outline. A major difference between the former and the latter is that …
Each morning Facebook provides a look back to items I posted on this date in previous years. Mostly it informs me that what I am doing is the same. Now I'm trying to tie all the loose ends in my fifth novel, Cowboys Come Home, together. The manuscript is ready. I have to make up …
In hindsight, losing my satellite TV reception wasn't such a bad thing. A storm hit last Thursday night, and while the damage wasn't severe, it did rip apart a cedar tree in the backyard. I'm not sure whether the tree will survive or not. She might just need to be taken out of her misery. …
First of all, the title is perfect. Wild Whistling Blackbirds. The title of my upcoming western, Cowboys Came Home, came quickly, but, usually, a title doesn't come to me until I'm well into the first draft. Here, it's as if author Allen Kent came up with this splendid title, rooted in poetry, and built the …
Nightrider's Lament 