THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT

During my childhood, I spent my summers in Ironton, Michigan, skipping rocks across the smooth surface of the lake, or watching the steady stream of boats passing through the channel day after day. The year I turned eleven, I met Craig, one of my best friends. He and I would always wander down to where the Ironton ferry was docked. A small flat bottom ferry guided by cables traversed the water between Ironton on the west shore and Peninsula Road on the east. It carried a maximum of four cars across the narrow gap in the lake which separated the south arm of Lake Charlevoix from the main body. A cramped cabin in the center of the flat deck provided shelter for the operator. The Spartan interior was heated by an oil fired stove that barely staved off the cold when it ran right. A stout column rose from the floor with a mere three gauges to monitor the engine. In front of that were two steel control levers, one for each propeller, connected directly to the shafts under the floor of the cabin. Besides a small metal stool and a cash box, this was the captain's headquarters. The antiquated, three cylinder diesel engines protruded through the floor and required constant tinkering to keep it running. Three pistons thumped loudly producing perfect smoke rings out the exhaust pipe that stuck out above the roof. Noisy, but efficient, the ferry plodded back and forth, day after day, nine months of the year. Befriending the different captains was a delicate process. Each of the three held very different beliefs of their position as captain. One was a grump who wanted to charge a fee for riding his precious ferry. The second would let my friend and I ride as much as we wanted. At times, he even let us into the tiny cabin to watch the intricate working of his inner kingdom. The the third was, by far, our favorite. Captain Jim would let us help out by operating the gates to let the cars on and off the deck. Eventually, this morphed into us actually operating all the controls and collecting the fees. Most often, it was during the late shift when Captain Jim would relinquish control. Craig and I would pride ourselves on making a perfect, bump free landing into the dock. On a beautiful, clear night as we chugged towards the dock on the final trip of the evening, Craig and I screwed up. We had been running the boat most of the night while Captain Jim collected the cash and chatted with his passengers. He had gone into the cabin and started counting the proceeds from his shift. This placed him at the control pedestal, so Craig and I assumed the Captain was going to dock the ferry. I lost track of Craig as I stood in the doorway of the cabin enjoying the summer breeze and the rhythm of the old engine. Glancing towards the dock, now only fifty feet away, I realized we were at full speed ahead. I shouted at Captain Jim...but it was too late.

FEELING VULNERABLE ANYONE?

The best part about being a writer is knowing that someone likes what you've written. But, there's a certain amount of vulnerability writers feel when we try to get feedback. And let me tell you, it's never easy. We could ask a friend or family member to read our work, but chances are, they'll just tell us what they think we want to hear, since they're so supportive and all. And, soliciting the advice of a complete stranger is certainly out of the question, or is it? It's not as hard as you might think if you just follow a few simple suggestions. The secret is to never give them the opportunity to say, "No." Just remember, you have to sneak up on them, like a mountain lion stalking it's prey. I find this works best when they have their heads down trying to concentrate on their work. Next, try to make it as uncomfortable for them as you can, "Um...I mean um...would you like to read my manuscript?" I promise you - they'll have a hard time saying, "No." 

GRUMPY'S PROFILE

The name Grumpy was an old CB handle I used back in the days before the invention of cell phones. Nowadays, us truckers use Blue tooth, because we can't afford the $10.000.00 fine if we're caught using our phones. By now, you've guessed my occupation as a truck driver...and wannabe writer. Hobbies, if I had time for them: fishing, golfing, driving my 1970 SX Cutlass (aka Gutless) and relaxing on the beach with family. Sounds like a dating site, doesn't it? Except that I'm happily married, with a herd of horses, a pack of dogs and two cats. What do I hope to accomplish with my writing? To tell stories that trigger emotion and leaves my readers wanting more. How's that working out so far? Talk about frustrated. I was getting a little peeved...but then...slowly, my persistence paid off. To the point where my readership doubled overnight. Literally, the number of visitors to my site went from 1 to 2 in one day. But, I hung in there and was rewarded when I wrote "The Stray Cat." Everyone loved it. Will I continue to write? Yes, as long as I have an audience, I plan on being here everyday when they show up.  



BROOK

                         FACEBOOK                                                

I was already working 60 hours a week and had my hands full with my Blog when my wife called me to ask me to stop by the library and fill out my profile on Facebook. Now, I am as compassionate as the next guy, but I told her, "I don't have time for that tonight." But, she insisted that I stop and look at the account since she had recently found a woman to help her set the account up... And, this woman had been gracious enough to be my first friend. (Everyone see where I'm going with this?) Eventually, I got the account opened, and was surprised to see all these faces (about 50 of them) wanting to be my friend.
All I had to do was mark a box that said, "Add a friend," which is what I did. I checked all 50 boxes in 5 mintutes flat. The next time Diana ran into the woman, she wasn't very happy, "Some of my friends have contacted me to complain that your husband is harassing them. I tried to tell them that he is new at this," she said, "that he doesn't know Facebook is just for family and friends, but now they don't want anything to do with me."  "Sorry." Diana told her, "But, half of the people replied back accepting his request." I tried to apologize, via e-mail, but Facebook blocked me. It seems one woman was so mad, she reported me to the Facebook police. Since that time, I'm back on good terms with Facebook and haven't added any new people to my account - unless I know them.                                     



KICKING BACK WITH FRIENDS ON BLOG AND FACEBOOK

THE STRAY CAT



CODY

                                                                        

GIVING IN TO TEMPTATION

I stared longingly at the succulent fruit cup, the only thing that remained in the lunch my wife had packed for me. Opening one of these plastic containers on a flat surface without sloshing the syrupy juices around could be a challenge. Imagine how difficult it would be to open one while driving a semi and hitting a rough patch in the road. Even with that struggle - I figured I'd give it a try. I held the cup in my driving hand, careful not to squeeze it too hard. But, because they put so much liquid in the container, I just know that, inevitably...most of it will end up in my lap. Slowly, I peel back the plastic cover without spilling a drop. It was that moment when I realized it was a fruit cup of Jello. 

PORN SITE?

Cody the Wild Stallion wasn't meant to sound like a porn site. Thinking back on it, though, I suppose it does. Cody refers to a stallion my wife brought home one day. He never wanted anything to do with me and I returned the favor. Turns out...he was quite a character, and became the leading story in my book. Some woman eventually bought Cody. She thought he was the finest horse she'd ever seen. Good luck with that.

SECRET SERVICE MEN PINCH PENNIES

I was watching the news last night, forget which network was on, but I swear I heard the anchorman say that a dispute broke out after several Secret Service Men refused to pay for the services of one prostitute. I remember thinking, "these poor men, they don't get paid enough if they have to pool their money together and share a lady for the evening."  

BETSY LERNER / VIVIAN SWIFT

I was in the library the other day researching how to write a query letter when I stumbled upon Vivian Swift's blog. Vivian suggested Betsy Lerner's book, "The Forest For the Trees" and mentioned how one could get it at their library. I checked with the librarian to see if she could order a copy for me. She punched the information into the computer, wrote down some numbers and handed me the slip of paper. "You have it here?" I said surprised. "Yes." was all she said and then sent me on my way. I searched and searched the book shelves, but couldn't find it. Concentrating on the task at hand, I didn't hear her when she walked up behind me, cat like, and scared the crap out of me, "Are you finding it okay?" She asked.  When my heart started beating again, I answered her, "No, I'm not."  "I was wondering what was taking you so long." She said with no humor. "Well, let's see," she said looking over her glasses, "808.2 should be right here next to 808.1."  "808.2." I said. "You wrote down 802.2." And then I enthusiastically offered the piece of paper she had given me as proof. I should have known better than to challenge her expertise - because I'm almost cetain that she was a teacher prior to becoming a librarian. She shot me a fierce look. Felt like I was headed straight for the principle's office. She turned and headed back to her desk. Meanwhile, my phone rang. Since the library has a no phone policy, I took the call in the back where no one could hear me. It was my wife, Diana, "Did you find anything on query letters?" She asked.  "Yes, I did. Besty Lerner has a book on the subject."  "Betsy Lerner!" my wife screamed so loud that all the patrons turned and looked in my direction. "Can you ask the library to order a copy?"  "I already asked about the book and was told that they already had it. It must be out because it wasn't on the shelf."  "Can you tell them to put it on hold for you?"  Bypassing the first librarian, I spoke with another librarian to see if someone had the book out. She deferred back to the first librarian. While I waited, I sat back down at my computer to check out Betsy's blog and discovered she had a posting about screaming. I also have a posting about screaming on my blog. Worried that she would think I swiped her work, I checked the date of my posting. Whew! My posting is April 2nd...hers is April 3rd. The first librarian retruned to tell me that the book was missing and that they had ordered a new copy. She then told me to check back in a couple of days. I could just imagine the look on my wife's face when I arrived home empty handed. Even more astonishing would be the look she gave me when I told her she'd be the one going back for the book.