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Thanksgiving Ramble

I sat down today, fully intending to write up a blog post that people could read over this long holiday weekend. This post would be clever and erudite, but also ground-breaking. It would cement in the reader’s mind that, despite the comical trappings around here, I was someone to take seriously, that my musings were something to tap into on a regular basis, that any sliver of spare time spent here would be rewarding. And from a crass commercial angle, it would get me a little web traffic and remind readers I was still alive and still flogging all my e-books, especially Honk Honk, My Darling.

Sorry, gang. It didn’t happen. Whatever thoughts might have been pacing around up there in the waiting room, ready for their debut, have somehow vanished. Maybe they were in a pique because I’d ignored them for most of the month, and they were loath to be trotted out hurriedly like a kid reciting “Twinkle Twinkle.” Maybe thoughts of baking, cooking, hosting and running around locked the door on them and pretended the key’s been lost. Maybe the thoughts are stuck in the security line at O’Hare. Maybe I ain’t got a cogent thought to present in any interesting way, and never did.

I started a list of things I was thankful for, but that started getting a little mawkish. Besides, everyone else’s lists have been on Twitter and blogs all week. While it was nice to read them all, it pushed me closer to the idea in Matthew 6, about praying by yourself in a closet.

Is that in the spirit of the holiday? Who knows? One of the best things about Thanksgiving is that it’s a little amorphous in how you approach it. There are traditions a-plenty, but the idea of celebrating the day “properly” rarely comes up. There’s no blowback if you choose to spend it by yourself or with friends, whether you eat turkey or lasagna, whether you go shopping or watch slasher movies at home. It feels like a real Do-It-Yourself holiday, and since it’s the first one of the season, everyone is a little less anxious.

At least, that’s how I feel about it. Family tensions certainly arise, as crowds gather for the celebration (or as people tell their families that they won’t be coming). The Black Friday stuff makes me want to join a monastery, in the Marianas Trench. The Christmas commercials during the parades and football games are nauseating (I feel so inadequate that I won’t be able to give my sweetie a Lexus this year, with a big bow on the top!). Seriously, it takes A LOT to turn me off from watching a parade, but CBS and Macy’s have perfected a formula for it. So, opportunities certainly arise for tension, disappointment, regret, but I’ve somehow blocked them out. Perhaps I’ve learned a few lessons in life by the half-century point.

At least we’re not the ones traveling this year.

And double at least, The Detroit Lions aren’t an abomination now, so both football games might be worth watching.

And I get to watch my darling daughter singing in “Boris Godunov” again tonight at the Chicago Lyric Opera.

So I’ve got lots to be thankful for. And I thank you for reading this far. Have a happy holiday weekend, y’all.

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Tea Party Fairy Tales: Aesop’s Fables #1

The Two Sheep

One morning two sheep were deciding where to go to graze grass.

“I think we should go up the mountain,” said the first sheep. “Not many other animals go there to graze, so there should be enough to eat. Besides, the view is very pretty.”

The second sheep said, “No, let’s go down near the river. The grass is very sweet and plentiful there, and we’ll be shaded from the sun and wind.”

“I don’t like that idea,” said the first.

“But I don’t like yours either,” said the second.

“Well then, let’s compromise. We can go to the broad plain that lies between the mountains and the river. It should have enough grass to eat, and the weather should be fine for both of us.”

“Agreed,” said the second sheep.

And as they set off down the road to the broad plain, they were both attacked and eaten by lions.

Moral: Compromise equals death

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A Little On-Line Chit-Chat

If you’re curious about a little of my background and writing process, you can check out the nice interview with me on a new site called Creative-Writing-Help.com. Thanks to Tracey Tressa for the nice write-up.

Here’s a creative writing exercise for you after you read the interview:

What sort of undersea creature does my pale bald head remind you of? What would you do if it confronted you while on vacation? Would it be dangerous? How do you think it could be killed?

 

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“Honk Honk” Podcast, Chapter 9

For all you eager kinkers out there, here is the latest podcast from Honk Honk, My Darling, featuring an appearance by my darling daughter as a sassy street urchin. Hope you enjoy.

If you DO enjoy, try leaving a comment in the iTunes store, because that will give it a little more momentum in their rankings.

And tell your friends, leave a review on Amazon, and join the “Honk Honk, My Darling” Facebook page. All these things add up. You want the circus to come back again next year, don’t you?

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Cover Competition: Can We Cop “Mr. Congeniality”?

One of the best blogs out there for e-publishing is The Book Designer, where Joel Friedlander dispenses advice on making self-published and indie-published work look as good as it can. So I was excited when I read that he had a monthly contest for book covers. Every book has a cover, but so many of the e-books I’ve seen look, imho, completely amateurish, with poor font choices, muddled or cliche design, cockeyed proportions between elements, and empty space you could drive a donkey cart through. A lot of them wouldn’t have worked for a Ladies League Cookbook.

But putting those impressions into words is beyond me. I thought hearing from a professional like Joel about both my own cover and those of other e-books would be very educational.

And hey, frankly I thought we might win the contest. But alas, not this time. Joel had mostly positive things to say about the cover, designed by Airan Wright.

This cover has some of the most sophisticated typography of all the covers this month, and professional-quality illustration. What held it back, in my view, was the difficulty making out what exactly the illustration is, and what meaning it has. Also, having so many strong elements on one cover has led to a bit of graphic confusion.

Well, he’s probably right about the graphic confusion. We’ve talked a little bit about changing the cover in the future, taking out the starburst at the trapeze, and inserting a hand and forearm. But it’s pretty nice to hear that we have “the most sophisticated typography” of the month. I know what I like, and I liked Airan’s work right away. It’s grabby, and it’s going to work for other books in the series.

Among all the choices a self-publisher must make, one of the most important is what to do yourself and what to hire out. This requires deciding what you’re good at, and frankly that can be difficult. But you don’t get a second chance to make a first impression. A strong cover is important, and will be increasingly crucial as more color tablets enter the market and people use them to browse for their next read. I learned a long time ago that while I may have an EYE for design, that doesn’t mean I can actually DESIGN something that will attract other people.

Friedlander’s website, and especially the contest, is something every self-publisher should check frequently. You can’t judge a book by its cover, except most of the time.

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Great Week for Baseball — and Bardball

As you fans know, this has been a helluva week for postseason baseball. I’ve had the obligation (yes, this is what I tell my wife) to watch my hometown team as it struggles mightily against the scary Texas Rangers. How many one run and two run victories can either team survive? There have been no laffers, no routs, nothing that would make you turn the game off early.

And as usual with the postseason, the expected heroes (Verlander, Cabrera, Hamilton) have not been nearly as productive as the also-rans (Nelson Cruz, Delmon Young). Why this happens every postseason is worthy of someone’s research. Maybe the heroes are too exhausted, or too distractible from all their interviews, or put too much pressure on themselves to single-handedly carry the team. Whatever it is, it’s what makes October baseball so awesome.

And it’s been a great week for limericks at Bardball.com. Earlier in the week, I relaxed the rule of only one post per day, and the limericks have been plentiful, in both posts and comments. And shame on us, we haven’t been able to give any space to poems on the Brewers-Cardinals series (well, I do have one lim on the Cardinals, but because it came from a Cubs fan, it’s really nasty). Below is a sample of one of our better ones, by Hilary Barta, who also runs the site LimerWrecks. Come on over and check it all out before the World Series. That’s gonna be a yawner, I tell ya.

That hit over Beltre was crazy
A bit of the old upsy-daisy
The Rangers were trounced
when Detroit’s way it bounced,
still kicking like Cameron Swayze.

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Latest Podcast for “Honk Honk, My Darling”

Attention all kinkers! The latest podcast of “Honk Honk, My Darling” is now up and available for listening! Death continues to follow Rex Koko like a yappy little dog as he follows the trail of Boots Carlozo to the trailer of her latest bunkmate, Flying Fleming! Brought to you by Robillard’s Shrimp Sticks, in handy stick form!

(Sorry this one took so long, but there were a lot of characters, sound effects and background sounds to tinker with and get right. Ever since my brother told me to get serious about the SFX, I’ve been getting more and more particular about how I put these together. Hope you agree!)

Download from this link or click on the embed below:

(Sorry the embed looks like a cheap piece of op art. It looked fine when I uploaded it. I’ve had continuing problems with the artwork when I try and manipulate it on Libsyn.)

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(Political) Corrections from the Mail Bag

I’ve always told readers of Politically Correct Bedtime Stories to send me their corrections of mistakes I’ve made in my writing, of unwitting sexism, racism, classism, antipolyamorism, or any other bias that might offend any reader or non-reader. I’m only human, after all, though that’s a pretty flimsy excuse. Here’s my latest mea culpa (sorry for the pro-western classicism), a big error brought to my attention by new fan Sherry Spence:

Since you encouraged suggestions in the event of “any bias as yet unnamed” in your Introduction, I feel encouraged to point out the unnamed bias in your use – in that very sentence – of the word, “rectification.” This reference to the right hand being the one that corrects is a direct affront to my left-handed husband and left-handed grand-daughter. I am sure that you can right this sinistral wrong with even-handed treatment and your usual verbal dexterity in the next printing of your righteous tome.

Guilty guilty guilty. Right doesn’t make might, not without what’s left.

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Some Pictures from “Reading Under the Influence”

One of the best and most idiosyncratic reading series in Chicago is “Reading Under the Influence”, which takes place monthly at Sheffield’s Bar. Earlier this month I read a steamy passage of Rex Koko being molested by the formerly reserved wife of a senator, from the yet-to-be-released mystery The Wet Nose of Danger. It went over well, as far as clown sex in public goes, and if you look at some of the other pictures, you can see Amy Guth from the Tribune daydreaming about a romp in the bushes with a healthy joey.

Everybody’s got a fantasy, right?

_MG_5224

The rest of the pictures are here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/raylumpp/sets/72157627628985235/

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New 15th Anniversary Edition of PC Bedtime Stories in the UK!

Like in anything else, there have been some ups and downs in my writing career, but one of the luckiest breaks I’ve had has been to have Ernest Hecht as the publisher of PC Bedtime Stories in the United Kingdom. He’s managed to keep me in print for more than 15 years in Britain (along with getting my name in the press once in a while, to keep interest up), with smaller and better thought-out press runs than was the case in the US market. Contrast this with the fact that the US edition of PC Bedtime Stories has been out of print since 1997, two years after selling 2 million copies, and you’ll understand the stark differences between the markets. It’s been so much more fun to have a real person as my publisher, instead of the employee of a large media conglomerate.

Ernest also brought my first book to the attention of Grasset, my French publisher, and Goldmann, my German publisher (and possibly a couple others I’ve forgotten). He earned no profit from this, except in keeping relationships alive and happy. At the helm of Souvenir Press (which he started at age 18 with a special edition of stories and stats for football fans), he’s the last of an old breed of publishers who are hands on with just about everything his company prints. “A publisher’s main duty to his writers,” he’s said many times, “is to stay in business.”

So imagine my joy and pride in the fact that Ernest is publishing a 15th anniversary edition of PC Bedtime Stories AND has put it on the cover of his latest catalog. Those ugly caricatures of Grandma and the Woodcutter have never looked so good.

For a little extra sizzle in this edition, Ernest asked me if I had any other PC stories cluttering up the office that could be included. I looked around and found some things, but none of them truly fit the bill. So I sat down one morning last spring and decided to have a whack at the story that could be made out of what was only a punchline title, “The Duckling That Was Judged On Its Personal Merits and Not On Its Physical Appearance.” To my surprise (or shock?), the words just flew onto the page. After a couple of rewrites, I sent it to Ernest, who was very happy with the result. So that story is included in this British edition, as well as in my e-book edition available in America and Germany.

There is even talk about this hardback edition being distributed again in the United States, which is very exciting news, even if Ernest inserted extra U’s in “color” and “odor”.

Years ago, when the book first came out in Britain, Ernest flew me and my wife over to London to do some media. It was a trip we will never forget. He had me running around a lot, but it was terrific fun. Got to be interviewed by Allan Bennett, visited the HQ of BBC Radio at Bush House, met Walter Mosley at a studio. Ernest put us up in the company flat, which hadn’t been decorated in a while (rotary phone, blue shag carpeting, plumbing that only allowed hot water to make it to the tub if you sat down and used the shower as a handle), but it was a terrific treat for us. Even better was when he took us out to dinner at his favorite London restaurant, the White Castle (I know, we Yanks laughed about it too), and told us stories about his travels, his adventures as a producer on the West End, and his beloved football team, Arsenal.

So my ever-lasting gratitude goes out to Ernest, who took a chance on importing a humor book from America and managed to keep it alive and kicking for longer than anyone anticipated. To his instincts, his savvy, and his generous love of life, I raise my glass.

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Finally Back Up to Speed

Well, we’re back in the City of the Big Shoulder Pads, and I think the whole brood is finally getting back in fighting shape. I can now sleep a little past seven, ignoring the workers cutting up the street outside our window for almost 10 minutes. I also curse a little bit less driving around town, although that might have to do with the kids being in the car. And the car windows being open.

Fall is the time when I make lots and lots of resolutions that probably won’t get accomplished. (First got this idea from the Tribune’s Eric Zorn, and it is a much better notion than waiting until January, with its short, cold days and hibernating lethargy.) Of course, there are more demands on my time now, too, but during the day, I’ve got about 7 hours of straight time, which I hope I can put to awesome use.

One resolution is to get out to more readings and performances this fall. Writing is incredibly solitary, but there’s no need to make the problem worse. Any night of the week in Chicago, there’s a good reading series happening somewhere. so I’m going to stick my nose out, meet a few people, and maybe sign up to read, if the hosts will have me.

So far I’ve been able to read at two gatherings. The first was the venerable Uptown Poetry Slam, run every Sunday by my old friend Marc Smith. He found out I had a new ebook to publicize, and his first instinct was to give me a buzz and offer some stage time to read. I hadn’t read there in a couple years. The Green Mill Lounge is one of the most special places in Chicago, a watering hole and musical oasis that could exist in no other place. It looks great, feels cozy, and SOUNDS unlike anyplace else in the whole city. Mark let me read for quite a while, so I brought out the clown bar fight from Chapter 5 of “Honk Honk, My Darling”, and followed it with the steamy encounter between Rex and a certain senator’s wife in the yet-to-be-published thriller, “The Wet Nose of Danger.” I also read for the first time in North America, the newest PC Bedtime Story, now available in the British edition and e-book edition, “The Duckling That Was Judged On Its Personal Merits and Not on Its Physical Appearance.”


What a jolly and engaging stage presence I am !!

Reactions were weird, but I should be used to that by now. Cackle here, laugh over there, but I didn’t have them at my mercy as much as I’d like. I’m also a little rusty, so I can’t pull the audience along like I used to. Will have to brush up on my chops.

Then last week I got to participate in Reading Under the Influence (RUI), which is run monthly by the wonderful Julia Borcherts out of Sheffield’s Bar. This was a totally different kind of reading than what I was used to: Everyone standing up, about four feet from the reader, all drinking, many joining in and heckling. It wasn’t an aggressive audience, but they sure were involved with me and the other readers. I also stumped most of them with my trivia questions about the end of the world and Nostradamus and the Book of Revelation. But most importantly, I met some cool people and heard some good writers, especially Geoff Hyatt, whose new book just came out. I gave away a lot of coupons for free copies of “Honk Honk, My Darling,” but only a few of them have been turned in yet.

And today I sat down with the notion that I was going to write 1000 words. For me, this is like running a marathon. I don’t think I’ve written that much in one sitting in years. And what do you know, I beat it! 1458 words! It felt great! And no one at Facebook even noticed I was missing.

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Latest up on Bardball

I haven’t posted my poems from Bardball in the past couple weeks, but for those who don’t feel like going over there, I thought I’d bring one over here.

Today’s was inspired by last week’s passing of manager Dick Williams, an old=school hardass who achieved some marvelous things with his players (and, though I couldn’t manage to work it into the poem, quit the Oakland A’s after two pennants and a World Series because he couldn’t stand working for owner Charlie Finley). RIP, Dick.

When Oakland’s Swingin’ A’s were swingin’,
A hard-playing, mustachioed team–
Williams quit after winning two titles.
The skipper never changed or mellowed
In Expos white or Padres yellow.
Old-school grit, speed and defense vital.
Angels in heaven might hear him scream,
“You with the harp! You call that singin’?”

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Workcamp in the D

This week Number One Son has been on a mission workcamp deal. Normally, these trips take high schoolers to run-down, desolate parts of the country, like Indian reservations and Appalachian villages. But this year, that desolate part of the country happens to be my hometown, Detroit. Motown. The Big D.

So this week, I’ve felt both pride and nostalgia for the place that formed me, a little guilt for having moved away so long ago, and despair that my kid and all the kids with him right now will never understand the treasures that that city held back in its day.

That last emotion may be common to all people as they get older. It’s not just some nostalgia for the way things were “back in my day”. It’s more an awareness that there’s a continuum of culture, that the way we live now has its roots in the choices that were made in the past. It’s also the awareness that civilization is fragile, accomplishments fade, and the American “Way of Life” can leave a lot of places and people on the scrap pile.


When I was born, Detroit was the 4th largest city in the nation, bigger than Los Angeles. The downtown Hudson’s Store was one of the biggest department stores in the country. The riverfront was full of factories (I remember a Uniroyal tire factory sitting odoriferously next to the bridge to Belle Isle). The Bob-Lo Boat took people downriver to Bob-Lo Island all spring and summer. We had Motown, the MC5, Alice Cooper, Parliament/Funkadelic. Overall, the place was ALIVE! Just like Bob Seger said, We were making Thunderbirds.

Now the place is a case study of “ruin porn.” To catalog all the problems and scandals of the past 20 years would send you into a fetal position, and for it to come from an exile like me would be completely inauthentic.

But I hope the kids on the workcamp can catch a glimpse of what the place had been, and what it could still be. People in Detroit are crazy and tenacious. They’ve had the rug pulled out from under them so many times that they might as well stay on the floor. But they don’t. It’s our largest industrial city in decline, which means there’s a certain critical mass there. Which means it might take longer to turn it around, but once it gets going, it will be hard to stop.

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“Honk Honk, My Darling”– New Podcast Chapter!

for the patient people out there who are following the podcast of “Honk Honk, My Darling”, I apologize that this episode took a while. While it was tough stripping in all the voices that I wasn’t satisfied with (particularly Bingo the clown), the biggest time suck was creating a sound pastiche for the big melee at the Banana Peel.

How does a brawl in a clown bar sound? Well, click on the player below and find out!

(BTW, you can find the other podcast chapters at the host site here: http://rexkoko.libsyn.com)