Yes. This all began with a song. I’m well beyond its boundaries now. “Josie, I want you to look at these fuckin’ … vehicles,” Tripp Fallaw said as they arrived at the country club. “Shit.” Josie was world-weary, cynical, burnt-out, and, of course, high. They said, Uncle Jed, it’s the place you oughtta be, so …
Tag: writing
Stuck In A Rut, Part Six
Our heroine, Josie, inhales the culture shock of Los Angeles and holds it in. Josie Swenson spent Tuesday in a medicated fog, medicated being a popular cliché for using marijuana where it could be had for a prescription card and a song. Tripp and Wade said they had to “hone” their games, which meant they …
A Regular Fats Domino
I think I’m walking to New Orleans. I’m walking to New Orleans … Not really. I hardly walk to my mailbox. I’m driving to New Orleans, and I hope to make some stops along the way, and, quite possibly, the way back. I’m going to Texas with my guitar, not my banjo, in my back …
Dominion Over The Language
You want to know how big sports is? It supersedes language. That was a serious offense when I was in grade school. Where is the past tense of “fly,” not “flew”? Baseball, and in this instance I concede the game has a good reason. When a batter hits a fly ball, it’s easy to imagine …
Drive-Through Blues
I ordered two biscuits and, leaning out the window, informed the voice from the speaker that I had a coupon to “buy one and get one free.” I have learned that it is futile to say something that is merely English – “I want two biscuits, and I’ve got a coupon to get one free” …
Lyrically High
When I was a boy, I noticed that a trademark of Buck Owens songs was that lots of them began with, Weeeellll, I’m a-gonna … I suppose we all fall into patterns, whether by intent or habit. I tend to begin songs by getting up in the morning, sometimes literally. The first thing I saw …
Another Morning In Paradise
I was dreaming about something beautiful. I could probably describe it if I had not staggered into the den, faster than my wits would allow, stubbing my toe on the exercise bike/clotheshorse on my way to the front door, on which my beloved nephew was knocking. It was about 6:30. I had already awakened briefly …
Literary Chili
Sometimes, here amid life in paradise, the sparks just don’t fly. I’ve been buying time all day, and it’s just about to exceed my credit line. Yeah, that one, too, but what I’ve been doing today is little things to bide my time until that great, daily burst of creative force arrives, shaking the dishes …
The Method Is Imprecise
I write novels. Here’s how I do it. It doesn’t necessarily work for anyone other than me, and it doesn’t work for me enough yet that I would be so presumptuous as to declare it a success. I’m not recommending the way I do it. I’m just describing. I’m a bit of a rambler. I …
Stuck in a Rut, Part Two
This is the continuation of a short story that itself is a continuation and expansion of a song I wrote. It was four in the morning. Josie Swenson found herself fixated with a full moon casting an eerie glow through the open window in a rundown home near campus. The front faced the soccer stadium …
Nightrider's Lament 