Bacon, Beer, & Books

Moore Heartbreak

2013-05-21T08:13:00.000-05:00

As I write this, it is raining outside. Thundering and lightening too. The weatherman says we will have hail within the hour. And high winds.

We need the rain desperately, but I've having trouble mustering much enthusiasm for mother nature this morning. My heart goes out to the citizens of Oklahoma today. In all the areas that have been hit the last few days.

I have very close ties to the city of Moore, Oklahoma. I have always had family there. I have spent much time there and in neighboring Norman.

Most of my family has moved to the Dallas/Fort Worth area, but my deceased cousins wife and son still call Moore home. I have heard they are okay, but their house is not. A look at the tornadoes path tells me it tracked just a bit south of their house, and they had a basement but given the time I imagine he was in school and she at work.

He did not attend the elementary that was directly hit. I am thankful for that, but at the same time completely heartbroken for the families who did have kids in that school. Tragic. Devastating. Too close to home.

Moore has been hit hard many times. I live on the western fringe of what is called Tornado alley but my town is not much different than Moore. The same sort of working class people. The same set of ideals. So this rain outside that we so desperately have needed for months. It doesn't feel so much like a God send today but tears for friends, family and neighbors.

Stay strong Oklahoma.

Another Bend In The Road

2013-05-15T08:55:00.002-05:00

Here it is May 15th.

The day I told y'all the print edition of TWISTED ROADS would be released.

I lied.

Not intentionally of course but you and I both know what they say about good intentions. I wonder if that paved road to hell is straight and narrow or windy and twisted.

Anyway, my publisher believes the print will be ready by June 1st. I thank those of you awaiting the hard copy for your patience.

In good news I really love the look of the book. The back cover is nearly as cool as the front.

Also I have begin hearing back from readers who have finished reading the novel. I appreciate all of those who spend their money to buy my work and then their time reading it, but the folks who take extra time to drop me a note with their comments, or to leave a review somewhere ... those are the souls that feed a writer's soul. So if you are one of those people let me shout. YOU ARE AWESOME!

Here are some snippets from my two favorite reviews thus far ....

From Marcus ...

Twisted Roads accurately shows the cause and affect of the lies we tell and roads we take, and how easily our perception of reality/people/gossip can be the sole spark to the truth that results in a pile of burnt ashes.
This world can be an ugly place and most of the time it's because of the sins of its people. But somehow, no matter the lies and different roads, honest love seems to come out winning.

The problem with this book is I want more. The characters have stuck with my thoughts and won't leave me alone, even several days after finishing. I want to know more!

Bravely written, wonderfully told. Make sure you read 'Twisted Roads.'

And from HuddleKay ...

Twisted Roads shows a different side of Travis' writing. Where his blog posts, and even The Feedstore Chronicles give me the sense of oral tradition, Twisted Roads is more sophisticated, more grown up. More mature. More written.

I kick off a blog tour tomorrow and have several events planned for Amarillo, Colorado, and New Mexico but nothing is completely finalized yet. I'm also hoping to do some talks or Skype with Book Clubs as well as podcasts and things to coincide with the blog tour. So check back here, or on Facebook for more info.

Purple Panties and Cleavage

2013-05-03T09:29:00.001-05:00

I'm not a country club guy.

I have no problem admitting that.

A suit and tie? Not if I can help it. My idea of dressing up is a pair of starched jeans and a button up shirt. Which I can get away with for most functions here in Texas. Dress shoes. I'll stick to my favorite pair of double-stitched, Anderson Bean Boots thank you very much.

And golf? I have but frankly trying to whack that little white ball in a straight line just ticks me off. I'd rather smuggle in a fishing pole and cast for bass in the water hazards while my buddies debate distance and club selection. I will ride in your golf cart and drink your beer however.

Tennis? I'll leave that to Phats.

But tonight I will be at the Amarillo Country Club for a church event.

It's not my only visit to the place. I've been there before. In the very room I will be in tonight.

Only the last time I was there I was the keynote speaker for a luncheon. I stood there and told the Amarillo Rotary Club about my path to publication not long after THE FEEDSTORE CHRONICLES came out. I had a great time that day and met some very nice people. Yeah, I think I scared a few but when I read them a sample I stopped short of the bulldog masturbation scene.

Now tonight I will be back. Perhaps its an odd coincidence I once again have a new book out. Maybe that is the only time they will let a guy like me inside the gates.

I would be game, but I doubt the Arch Bishop wants me to read the opening of TWISTED ROADS. I got a feeling I'd be sent straight to confession when I went to describing purple panties and cleavage.

Oh well, there is always the rotary club.

I wanted to share the back cover blurb from Twisted Roads from you ... well it will be the back cover blurb when the print book is released in a few weeks. Until then you can pick the novel up on Kindle for 6.99 if you so desire.

A tarnished name and a bitter heart.

That's all Angela Ross took when she fled Texas fifteen years ago as a teenager. Now, she's back to take care of her grandmother’s estate. But in a town like Grand, where reputation means much more than the truth, some sins are never forgotten much less forgiven.

Shelly Sampson has worked hard to cultivate her image as reigning queen of Grand, but long kept secrets mean her crown is precarious at best. And nothing could knock her tiara off faster than a chill wind from the past ... Like the return of Angela Ross.

Left with nothing but an old house and painful memories, Angela soon takes a job at the local tavern owned by Lucas Cahill hoping to earn enough to leave this town behind for good. Lucas still holds the same flame for Shelly Sampson that he had in high school and though she welcomes his attention, he can’t understand why she won’t leave her rocky marriage behind to finally give them a chance at happiness.

Once Angela, Shelly’s old arch rival, enters the picture as Lucas’ new employee Shelly’s desperation to keep her life and secrets intact starts a chain reaction whose outcome no one in Grand could have ever predicted.

Fire up That Kindle

2013-05-01T22:37:00.000-05:00

The Kindle edition is out ...

Women's Fiction? Yes, Please.

2013-04-30T09:37:00.002-05:00

Let's talk Women's Fiction.

What is it?

The Romance Writers of America organization defines women's fiction as, "a commercial novel about a woman on the brink of life change and personal growth. Her journey details emotional reflection and action that transforms her and her relationships with others, and includes a hopeful/upbeat ending with regard to her romantic relationship."

Okay I can live with that definition.

So how exactly did I become a Women's Fiction author?

That's a little harder to pinpoint, but I can tell you it wasn't easy. I never opened my eyes one morning and said, "Hey I think I want to become the next Nicholas Sparks."

And no offense to Mr. Sparks but I don't want to be the next him. I want to be me. Sure I want to write books his audience wants to read, but I want to be me. I want somewhere someday there to be a literary agent or editor that tells an author, "You are the next Travis Erwin." Start growing your goateess now you would be male Women's Fiction writers."

I began writing seriously after taking a college class with Jodi Thomas. I'd always been a lifelong reader and thought I could write a compelling story but meeting her and talking to her I for the first time believe a country boy from Amarillo, Texas could make a go at being an author.

For those unfamiliar with her work, Jodi Thomas is a Hall of Fame member of the Romance Writers of America. She is the person that I can credit for launching my passion to be an author. Here is a picture of the two of us taken a few years back.

I learned a lot about the business and writing from Jodi. Including the fact I'm a Women's Fiction writer. She challenged us to write the first 50 pages of a novel in that class. I did. She read them, liked them and told me "I never guessed a big scrapping guy like you would write women's fiction."

Guess what Jodi. Neither did I. I simply began telling the story in my head. Funny thing is that story I began oh so long ago has a new title ... a shiny new cover ...and most importantly a release date. yes that book I began 13 long years ago has become TWISTED ROADS.

I doubt any one paragraph is the same. Heck some of the characters are not the same. The book that comes out oh so soon is far better than the stuff I handed Ms Thomas to read but the same emotions the same quest for personal growth and emotional reflection are there. They are there in nearly everything I write. Yes even the Feedstore Chronicles. The growth in that book was my own and I'm obviously not a woman so while that book was not women's fiction I am most proud of the reviews I recieved like this one ...

5.0 out of 5 stars Resilience and true Grit-a coming of age book deeper than the cover, November 10, 2011

J.Smith (Seattle, Washington) - See all my reviews

Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)

This review is from: The Feedstore Chronicles (Paperback)

This book is hilarious. It is also deeply moving, proving one can not judge by a comedic and clever cover. Erwin shows immense depth as a writer, and the story would be funny and worth reading even if he didn't manage to convey the true challenges of being raised by a single mother in a dusty Texas town without whining. Mr. Erwin writes a captivating story, and I was unexpectedly moved and inspired by the prose. A great read, and one I highly recommend.

That's who I want to be as a writer. I want to delve below the surface so while I might not have intentionally became a Women's Fiction writer I embrace the term. Am proud to wear the title. No I'm not the typical women's fiction author and that has made it tougher to get to this point. But I feel my work can stand on its own. So now that I'm actually going to have a novel out there in the genre I think the fact I'm a 6'5 nearly 300 hundred pound Texan with a twang in his voice and boots on his feet is a good thing. it gives me the ability to stand out in a crowded field of talented writers.

I am the same writer I have always been. I hope to make you laugh, cry, and cheer along with the characters. I hope to make you feel as if you learned something about not only my characters but humanity as a whole. About what makes all of us tick. About what it is like to fight and struggle and get back up again. To fall in love all over again.

That is why I write. That is why we live.

How I Write

2013-04-22T14:07:00.001-05:00

How do you write?

I get this question fairly often.

I'm always tempted to reply with crappy grammar and woeful comma use, but generally I resist.

I am at my best when I write the original draft longhand with pen in a notebook. Then I edit as I type sometimes later the same day and sometimes a week or so later. Sometimes I type beyond what I hand wrote and I keep going but in truth that blinking cursor always taunts me and seems to constrict free thought.

As far as how I build a story and characters I begin with a what if. Usually a what if for a single character. For TWISTED ROADS it was ... What if you realized you'd spent your whole life loving the wrong person?

I knew a guy that had done that very thing and frankly it destroyed him though I don't know that he sees it that way to this day. I wanted my character to find some redemption beyond his misguided love but of course it's never easy to admit you've spent a lifetime lying to yourself.

So I start with that what if, but to make a story and the character come alive I have to know all the characters inside and out. To do that I write back story for every character. One or two pages for minor characters. maybe as much as a dozen for point of view or major characters.

These are not complete stories but vignettes of emotionally charged events from their early childhood on up to when the story starts. Once I know how they will react to being mad, sad, happy, horny ... they are pretty easy to write in most situations.

Building secondary plots and having all them them relate in some small way is a challenge for me. I tend to be a character driven writer and my plots can get lost because of that. Editors often want me to be less subtle and more flamboyant and direct. I have to work to add the necessary layers and emphasis.

Sometimes they mean not how do I write, but how do I find the time to write with a family and job? I steal it here and ther and in bits. This adds to why I hand write. I can't always sneak off to the computer though I try to get some time in at the computer every night when the kids have gone to bed.

There it is. How I write.

Music as it Should Be

2013-04-21T12:26:00.001-05:00

I am a big supporter of live music from local bands to touring acts that stop in at small venues. I'm done with with huge arena shows and hundred dollar tickets for pyrotechnics and auto tune performances.

My favorite venue here in Amarillo is a place called The Golden Light Cantina.

The Cantina is to the right of the Cafe, which by the way is the longest continually open cafe along old Route 66. They make a might fine greasy cheeseburger and great fries. They also serve cold Shiner.

The Cantina has room for something in the neighborhood of a 100-120 people and just recently became smoke free.

Thursday night I had the pleasure of catching Hayes Carll perform. Hayes is one of my favorite songwriters. He has a wit and truism to his writing that speaks to me on several levels

Warren Hood and his band opened and backed up Hayes and their set was great in its own right. They have almost a cajun, bluegrass feel. Folky but contemporary. I didn't record this clip but found it on YouTube.

I picked up the bands new CD which isn't officially out and it's just as good as their show.

I knew Hayes Carll would be good. he was after all nominated as the 2011 Americana Music Artist fo the year. But frankly I didn't expect him to be as good as he was. good isn't the world. Hayes put on a damn fantastic show. Pardon the audio of my phone as I recorded these clips myself.

Visit Hayes Carll's Amazon store to pick up his music. Or visit his website.

Or catch him live and in person if you can.

04/21/13	Albuquerque, NM	The Dirty Bourbon	United States	Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 8:00pm. Admission: $17. Age restrictions: No Minors. Box office: 505-296-2726. Address: 9800 Montgomery Blvd. Venue phone: 505-296-2726.
04/24/13	Tucson, AZ	Hotel Congress	United States	Hayes and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 8:00pm. Age restrictions: All Ages. Address: 311 East Congress Street. Venue phone: 520-622-8848.
04/25/13	Phoenix, AZ	Musical Instrument Museum	United States	Hayes and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 7:00pm. Age restrictions: All Ages. Address: 4725 E. Mayo Boulevard. Venue phone: 480.478.6000.
04/26/13	Indio, CA	Stagecoach	United States	Hayes and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 5:00am. Admission: $239. Age restrictions: All Ages. Box office: (888) 512-SHOW. Address: Empire Polo Field. Venue phone: (888) 512-SHOW.
05/02/13	Alexandria, VA	Birchmere	United States	Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 7:30pm. Admission: $27.50. Age restrictions: All Ages. Address: 3701 Mt Vernon Ave. Venue phone: 703-549-7500.
05/04/13	Livingston, TN	Livingston Americana Festival	United States	Other artists TBA	Buy tickets
Time: 12:00pm. Admission: $25. Age restrictions: All Ages.
05/07/13	Sellersville, PA	Sellersville Theater	United States	Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 8:00pm. Admission: $21.50, $29.50. Age restrictions: All Ages. Box office: 215-257-5808. Address: 24 W Temple Ave. Venue phone: 215-257-5808.
05/08/13	York, PA	Strand -Capitol Performing Arts	United States	Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 9:00pm. Admission: $18. Age restrictions: All Ages. Box office: 717-846-1111. Address: 50 N George St. Venue phone: 717-846-1111.
05/09/13	Annapolis, MD	Rams Head On Stage	United States	Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 8:00pm. Admission: $22.50. Age restrictions: All Ages. Box office: 410-244-1131. Address: 33 West Street. Venue phone: 410-244-1131.
05/10/13	New York, NY	City Winery	United States	Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 8:00pm. Admission: $28/$25/$22/$20. Age restrictions: All Ages. Box office: (212) 608-0555. Address: 155 Varick ST. Venue phone: (212) 608-0555.
05/11/13	Somerville‎, MA	Johnny D’s	United States	Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods. SOLD OUT!	Buy tickets
Time: 7:00am. Age restrictions: All Ages/Licensed. Address: 17 Holland St. Venue phone: 617.628.1028.
05/11/13	Somerville‎, MA	Johnny D’s	United States	Second Show just added. Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 10:00pm. Admission: $17. Age restrictions: All Ages. Address: 17 Holland St. Venue phone: 617.628.1028.
05/14/13	Ashville, NC	The Grey Eagle	United States	Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods
Time: 9:00pm. Admission: $15. Age restrictions: All Ages. Box office: (828)232-5800. Address: 185 Clingman Avenue. Venue phone: (828)232-5800.
05/15/13	Atlanta, GA	Terminal West	United States	Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods	Buy tickets
Time: 9:00pm. Admission: $20 / $17. Box office: 404.876.5566. Address: 887 West Marietta St NW. Venue phone: 404.876.5566.
05/17/13	New Orleans, LA	One Eyed Jacks	United States	Hayes with Warren Hood and The Goods
Time: 10:00pm. Admission: $15. Box office: 504.569.8361. Address: 615 Toulouse St. Venue phone: 504.569.8361.
05/18/13	Houston, TX	San Houston Park	United States	Festival with Dwight Yoakam, Robert Earll Keen and more…	Buy tickets
Time: 10:00pm. Admission: $40/$25/$150. Address: 1100 Bagby St.
05/25/13	Helotes, TX	Floores Country Store	United States	with Turnpike Troubadours.
Time: 7:00pm. Admission: $20, $15. Box office: 210/695-8827. Address: 14492 Old Bandera Rd. Venue phone: 210/695-8827.
05/26/13	Kerrville, TX	Kerrville Folk Festival	United States	With Warren Hood and The Goods and Bruce Robison and Kelly Willis	Buy tickets
Time: 7:00pm. Admission: $25, $180. Age restrictions: All Ages. Box office: 830.257.3600. Address: 3876 Medina Hwy. Venue phone: 830.257.3600.
06/01/13	Dallas, TX	GEXA Energy Pavillion	United States	Also on the bill – The Avett Brothers, Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, Matt & Kim, Dawes, Milo Greene	Buy tickets
Time: 4:45pm. Admission: $55. Age restrictions: All Ages. Address: 1818 1st Ave.
07/19/13	Telluride, CO	Sheridan Opera House	United States	Lincoln Durham supports	Buy tickets
Time: 8:00pm. Admission: $135. Age restrictions: All Ages. Box office: (970)728-6363. Address: PO Box 2680. Venue phone: (970)728-6363.
08/02/13	Hailey, ID	Northern Rockies Music Festival	United States

That Certain Shine

2013-04-18T10:47:00.004-05:00

Hey, give me a Shiner!

In other parts of the world that statement could get you a jab in the eye.

Here in Texas, it will get you a beer.

And not just any beer, but in my well versed, or in this case well drank, opinion the best overall beer around.

But I've waxed poetically about my love of Shiner Bock before so let's move on to how a few Shiners on a fine Friday night led to the book cover of Twisted Roads.

After I handed in the manuscript for Twisted Roads to Dee over at TAG Publishing asked me if I had any cover ideas. I told them I did. You see a friend of mine that plays bass guitar had posted a picture of herself in red heels standing by her guitar. I liked the imagery put the guitar was wrong and she had on black pants and I thought a short skirt with bare legs would work better.

Dee liked the premise and said she'd check out some stock images. A week or so later she reported they were having trouble finding a good stock image, so I said, "Heck, I bet we could get the picture taken just as easy as we could buy a stock photo."

Dee seemed a bit hesitant but I really liked the concept so I assured her I could get the whole thing put together without blowing the budget.

But then a reality hit me. I wasn't exactly in the leg game anymore. I know lots of women but for the cover of a book not just any old legs would do. They would have to be long, and fit, and willing to pose.

I knew the right photographer. Brad McBride had made me look good with my headshot for the last book and if he could do that with a mug like mine I knew he could do amazing things with a nice set of legs. I knew I could acquire an acoustic guitar. So that left legs and a backdrop to find.

But try as I might I couldn't find the right legs.

Turns out, "Hey baby, I like those legs. Wanna pose for the cover of my next book?" isn't quite the pickup line you'd think. I'm kidding. It didn't really get to that point but close.

Then one Friday night I went along with my to a birthday dinner for one of her coworkers. I know most of her friends at work but still they are her friends more than mine so Is at at the end of the table and take great joy in the fact they had Shiner on draft. Shiner in big 32 ounce frozen mugs to be exact. Here was my view that night.

I was on my third maybe fourth frosty mug when in walked the legs. The legs I'd been searching for. I leaned over to my wife and whispered, "There are legs I need for the cover."

Now this girl or should I say young woman as she is in her early twenties was not a stranger. I'd met her before and she used to work as an aid at the school where my wife teaches. She was wearing heels but not red heels and not a skirt.

She initially sat at the far end of the table but wife waved her down to our end.

I explained the deal and she said she was game.

We hashed out a few details and the day of the shoot she showed up with several pairs of heels and those cool black hose you see in the cover shot.

Brad found this cool weathered fence which we used as a back drop. I think the cover in itself tells a story, or at the very least suggests one. Lloyd the design guru over at TAG did a great job with the script and arranging the title and my name.

Twisted Roads is a Women's Fiction novel set in the fictional town of Grand, Texas. The e-book is set for a May 1st release with the print edition coming out May 15th.

I will be giving 5 Kindle copies away on release day. To be eligible for one of those copies all you need to do is correctly guess the songwriter for any lyrics I have posted this month including those at the end of this post.

Lyric #10

I want to go home with the armadillo, country music from Amarillo and Abilene
The friendliest people and the prettiest women you've ever seen

Lyric #11 (just for Mark "Walkingman" Durfree

She's quite the mediator A smoother operator you will never see She'll see you later And no one dares disuade her openly
She knows music And no music till you see She's got the power

Lyric #12

I'll bring you precious contraband
And ancient tales from distant lands
Of conquerors and concubines and
Conjurers from darker times
Betrayal and conspiracy
Sacrilege and heresy

THE MEAT #1 ... Eh!

2013-04-14T17:46:00.000-05:00

Time to pay homage to the name change of this here blog.

Let's talk about meaty goodness, dark ales, and writers from north of the border.

It pains me a little to write this, but fact of the matter is, the satisfying piece of meat I've ever eaten was not cooked here in the great state of Texas. Or for that matter ingested within the borders of the Lone Star State.

Let me set the scene. We'd been walking for hours. now y'all know I'm a particular eater. Far from what you would call exotic. So as we trudged along World Showcase at Disney's Epcot in Florida I was in sort of a dilemma. I ate some meat nachos in Mexico but it was slim pickin's after that.

Norway, China, Germany, Italy.

I had a few beers to tide me over and when we hit the American showcase the Turkey legs didn't look bad but it had only been a few hours since those nachos and I had some good German beer sloshing around in my belly so we walked on.

Japan then Morocco.

We shopped around. Watched a few shows. Me and the genie from Aladdin compared goatees.

My wife bought some quiche at France. What the hell is quiche anyway? This shit was wicked green from I think spinach.

At the UK I had another beer and was in line for fish and chips when I heard people talkign about a steakhouse in Canada.

Steak!

Hell yeah!

That's what I'm talking about.
I couldn't get there fast enough but my wife wanted to look at a tea shop and other stuff in England so my gut growled on. it had been hours since those Mexican nachos and frankly they were not all that hot to begin with.

We finally get to said steak dubbed Le Cellier only to be told there was an hour wait. I didn't care. I was willign to camp out right there in canada and wait. hell by that point if they'd asked me to don a beaver pelt speedo and shout "I LOVE CANADIAN BACON!" I would have done it as long as there was a hunk of hot beef waiting for me afterward.

So we finally get in and seated and I look at the menu. Oh there is meat aplenty but every last bit says it has been marinated in some kind of maple concoction. I'm immediately thinking syrup and I'm tired, hungry and grouchy so it pisses me off. What the hell is wrong with these damn Canadian, I mean I could forgive them for being confused what bacon is because there idea of it is pretty damn good atop pizza but maple syrup has no place in a steakhouse. I was worried they didn't know the difference between a Waffle House and Sizzlin' Sirloin.

So I asked the waitress if I could have a steak any steak devoid of their maple marinade. She shook her ehad. We marinate everything the day before. We don't have steaks on hand that are not already. I don't know where the Disney people store there steaks. maybe they are all finely aged in Goofy's underwear. What I did know was that I was starving so I said fine bring me the bone-in 20oz ribeye, medium rare.

They served that sucker with a giant maple leaf right on top. yes that pissed me off all the more. I scraped off the offending vegetation and dipped one tine of a fork into the juice atop the steak.

I tasted it.

A hint of maple but not in anyway sweet or syrupy.

Huh.

I sliced a small piece. The beef melted in my mouth. That damn marinade was actually good. Subtle. Didn't overpower the beefy flavor but added to it. The steak was cooked to perfection and damned if it wasn't the most satisfying steak I've eaten even now. That was 1998.

I have been back to Le Cellier several times since but they changed their menu and the steaks are no longer marinaded int he same thing nor served with a maple leaf on top. They are still tasty but not as tasty. If any of my Canadian friend knows where I could acquire said marinade I'd be forever indebted.

Now to my favorite Canadian beer.

Trois Pistoles Dark Belgian Ale brewed by Unibroue of Quebec Canada. Here in my area it comes in both a four pack and 750 ML bottle. It pours dark (cola colored) and has a milk chocolate colored head. It has a malty sweetness with just a hint of spices not entirely different from a good spiced rum. A smooth beer for as dark as it is and it leaves a nice warm sensation in your chest as a good dark ale should.

There are many talented and famous Canadian writers. Yann Martel, Margaret Atwood, and Alice Munro.

There is my good friend Joanne Brothwell who write paranormal romance.

But my favorite Canadian author is Holly Kennedy because she writes books that make me say, "Dang, I wish I wrote that." Her novels The Tin Box, The Silver Compass, The Penny Tree all inspired me to keep writing Women's fiction. Check out both her and her work. You won't be sorry.

**************

Now to today's lyrics. Remember if you can identify even one set of these lyrics you have a chance to win a Kindle copy of TWISTED ROADS at release day. Sticking with the theme of this post think Canada.

               #7

Someday I'll get over you
I'll live to see it all through
But I'll always miss dreaming my dreams with you

    #8

I left her where I found her
And I walked off with a gun
I was half cocked and loaded
I went lookin for someone

   #9

We hit the road feelin’ cool as Crosby, Stills and Nash
Overflowin’ with the spirit and the bible on the dash

Name That Tune .. If you wanna win

2013-04-13T13:12:00.000-05:00

May Day! May Day! May Day!

No, there is no reason to panic.

I am shouting May Day! because that is the day the fine folks over at TAG Publishing plan to release the e-book of TWISTED ROADS. That's 18 short days away my friends.

They are planning to release the print version 2 weeks later on May 15th. they tell me the e-book wills ell for 6.99 and the print for 12.99.

As you know TWISTED ROADS is my first novel though not my first book published. But not just any novel, a Women's Fiction novel. My love for Women's Fiction has been the source for a lot of jokes, banter, and good-natured ribbing. I've always enjoyed the fact I'm not your typical Women's Fiction writer. But the fact I'm a 6 foot 5 nearly 300 pound bearded man with a decidedly Texas twang makes it all the more imperative the book be good, the emotions feel genuine, the female POV come across as true. I have faith in myself and this book. To me it is simply fiction from the heart and I still do not see why that msut be the domain of women alone.

Now to the contest. Between now and release day I'm going to post three separate snippets of song lyrics. TWISTED ROADS was inspired by many of my favorite songs and artists and one character is a Texas singer/songwriter so the music I love plays a vital role. All of these lyrics will be from my favorite genre of music. Texas/Alt/ Outlaw Country, Red Dirt, y'allternative. Pick your name. Every set of lyrics is in some way tied to the story or characters of TWISTED ROADS.

I will post the lyrics here and in Twitter. For every set you correctly guess the artist who wrote the lyrics you will get one entry. On release day I will draw FIVE names and give away Kindle copies to the book. You can email me your answers travis@traviserwin.com, tweet them to hastag #twistedroads, or leave them in the comments.

Yes, you can cheat using Google if you have to or by looking at the comments and twitter feed, but you know what they say cheaters never win. Whatever you do, please give these songs a listen. Lyrically they are among my favorites as I said all have a significance to this novel

The first three from yesterday

   #1

Sherry was a waitress at the only joint in town
She had a reputation as a girl who'd been around

   #2

My life is changing, God sometimes it goes so fast
All my old friends, seem more like ghosts from the past

                         #3

The dark don't lie
And dreams come true
Maybe just a few will see you through

And today's batch

                         #4

I never thought I'd make it 'till I had the guts to try
and I sat up in my tower while the whole world passed me by

                         #5

My boots are in the corner, covered in dust
My guitar is laid down, strings covered in dust

   #6

She holds him tight and kisses him so free
And you scream, lord that should be me

I Don't Know Why

2013-04-10T22:22:00.000-05:00

AJ Swope was a friend of mine.

We met via Twitter.

He was a local guy that somehow found me and my 140 character messages to the world.

AJ appreciated my sense of humor.

He openly admired my talents as a writer.

Funny thing is it took quite a few months before I discovered he had exquisite talents of his own.

AJ was also a writer. A songwriter and singer and musician.

He had many more talents than I'll ever have.

We soon embarked on a project.

He was writing songs based on some of my short stories.

I was writing stories based on some of his songs.

I was also working on TWISTED ROADS and struggling to amend a character that just didn't feel right.

AJ and I met several times over beers.

From the first second we set down it was as if I'd known him my entire life.

An instant friendship born of common respect and admiration for he others ability to turn a phrase.

AJ inspired me.

He inspired Lucas Cahill the male protagonist, the replacement for that other character that didn't feel right in Twisted Roads.

AJ answered ten thousand questions about writing music, playing guitar, being a performer.

I promised AJ a steak and all the Shiner he could drink and if he would swing by my house to answer a few more questions.

And help me put the final tweaks on some lyrics I was working on for the book.

He said he'd be glad to but he couldn't make it until Tuesday.

He said he'd also been working on a melody to go with them.

I was driving home from work on that Tuesday with my son when my phone rang.

I didn't believe it.

I couldn't believe it.

I shed some tears just the same.

It had to been someone else.

A different AJ Swope maybe.

It wasn't.

He was a local guy that somehow found me and my 140 character messages to the world.

We met via Twitter.

AJ Swope was a friend of mine

Andrew Jared "AJ" Swope

Posted: January 17, 2013 - 1:00am

Andrew Jared "AJ" Swope: 1985-2013

Andrew Jared “AJ” Swope, 27, of Amarillo died Tuesday, Jan. 15, 2013.
Memorial services will be at 4 p.m. Friday, Jan. 18, at First Presbyterian Church, with Dr. Murry Gossett and Dr. Roger Hubbard officiating, arrangements are by Schooler Funeral Home 4100 South Georgia St.
AJ was born January 29, 1985 in Amarillo, TX, to Rick and Leslie Swope of Pampa. He graduated from Pampa High School in 2003. AJ was a 2007 graduate of West Texas A&M University where he majored in Broadcast Journalism. While there, he was very active in the broadcast program. After graduation, he was employed by KVII-TV as an on-air reporter, anchor, and assignments editor. AJ then went on to become the Executive Director for Class 4 Winds. He was known for his intense love for his family and his passion for music and song writing. He showcased his musical talents throughout the panhandle with his band AJ Swope and The Last Train Home. AJ most cherished his wife, Wendi, his family and friends and his dog Simon the Dog.
AJ was the perfect husband and devoted son and brother. The love he had for his wife and family was indescribable. Regardless of what AJ did – whether work or play - he was passionate. He was also famous for his adventurous demeanor and his quick sense of humor. His love of life included learning how to surf, sail, snorkel and kayak. He loved the outdoors and spent hours biking in Palo Duro Canyon and riding around the neighborhood with Simon the Dog in a cart behind him. In his abbreviated 27 years, AJ affected the lives of so many through various speaking and musical events. Teaching himself to play the guitar, mandolin, harp and harmonica, AJ believed in chasing his dreams. He leaves a hole in the heart of all those who love and admire him.
He was preceded in death by a very special uncle, Dirk Wright.
Survivors include his beloved wife, Wendi of Amarillo; his proud parents Rick and Leslie Swope of Pampa; a brother, Dirk Swope, wife Valeria and niece, Peyton of Amarillo; Simon the Dog and Buster; Jud and Jan Finney of Amarillo; Renita and Mark Mitchell of Lubbock. Grandparents: Bob and Joyce Swope of Pampa; Carl and Linda Johnson of Pampa, Virginia Freeman of Lubbock, John and Jettie Spotts of New Caney, TX. Aunts & Uncles: David and Susan Boothe of Tuttle and cousins Mandie Boothe Ollinger and Emily Boothe; Kenneth and Jana Ford of Midland and cousins Mackenzie and Madison; Larry and Carol Johnson of Mena, AR; Ann and Guerry Wright of Follett, TX; Randy and LauraLee Swope of Whitewater, CO; Gale and Stacy Brewer of Amarillo; Cindy Barnard of Amarillo; Leroy and Patty Freeman of New Deal, TX and countless friends who loved him dearly.
In lieu of flowers, the family suggests donations be made to the AJ Swope Memorial Scholarship in care of the WTAMU Foundation-WTAMU, Box 60766, Canyon, TX 79016.
Please sign the online guestbook at www.schoolerfuneral.com.
Amarillo Globe-News, Jan. 17, 2013

A Toast

2013-04-09T16:17:00.000-05:00

You might have noticed I made a few changes to the blog. Yeah I know blogs are not as popular as they used to be but metaphorically speaking I am married to the venue. I believe through blogging I found my true writing voice as well as a large chunk of my reading audience. Abandoning it simply is not an option for me (I sort of tried the last year or so and it called to me like a siren in the night) and if I am not going to stop I might as well embrace it and try to build it stronger.

The old title reflected not only my goals but my original objective. To take y'all along on my journey toward publication. However I soon realized there were plenty of other bloggers far more qualified and more adept at educating and highlighting the path to publication. So I fell into storyteller mode and began sharing my experiences, opinions, and warped takes on life. I figured if I couldn't teach ya''' anything I could at least entertain you.

Yes, I have achieved my original publication goals of seeing my name on the spine of a novel. Technically speaking THE FEEDSTORE CHRONICLES was not a novel, but TWISTED ROADS is pure fiction so upon its release next month that last rung I originally transcribed is met.

No, My journey is not complete. I am still, and hopefully forever will be, growing as an author. I have not gotten that huge advance from a New York publisher, but times have changed and I perfectly happy with my smaller Indie publisher. Should a book take off I am poised to make more than I ever would with one of those New York houses and while it would be nice to have their clout , marketing, and prestige there is no guarantee they would put those things behind me or that they would lead to more book sales. I know people who got that contract and are no longer writing because they never sold. and I know people who self-published or landed an Indie deal like myself that are now on best seller lists the world over.

There is more than one way to climb a ladder.

Back to the new title. Yes only a few days ago I blogged about this whole bacon thing getting out of hand. Don't get me wrong I do enjoy a nice crispy slice of bacon, but it is not my favorite meat. Bacon is however the glory of the meat world and while I debated the name Beef, Beer, and Books simply did not have the same ring.

I also pondered Meat, Mead, and Manuscripts but not only did that sound rather medieval it was also technically off since mead is not really beer and manuscript really is not the correct term for any of the published books I read.

So here we are together at Bacon, Beer, & Books. To that end I am going to create a new blog series. Not to appear at any regular schedule but whenever the mood strikes me. I think I will simply title this series THE MEAT and in each post I will rave about a delectable cut of meat I've sampled (I will share recipes when possible), paired with a beer I've sampled recently (yes I am a beer snob) and a book worthy of recommendation.

There will still be the regular slate of absurd slice of life stories, of me poking fun of myself and those around me so I hope y'all will keep reading and keep giving shout outs on Twitter, Facebook and wherever people gather. Because while I know it is unlikely I'll ever get he amazing amount of hits I once did, it is nice when I know people are out there reading.

So I raise a beer in your honor ... Y'all make this an endeavor worth doing.

He Writes Books and Stuff

2013-04-08T12:26:00.000-05:00

Last month I blogged about my son getting to vote for the Bluebonnet award. If you missed that post the gist of it was I tried to coerce him into voting for THE Feedstore Chronicles. I of course was joking but he was serious when he replied, "No Dad, the award is for GOOD books."

No respect for Dad the author that day but this last week I was redeemed.

There we were riding in the car. The subject of Gold came up. As in digging for gold as a euphemism for nose picking. With 10 and 12 year old boys conversations with subjects like nose picking are sadly the norm.

Anyway my wife chimes in and says "You don't want people calling you a Miner 49er."

"A what?" my son asks.

She again says, "Miner 49er. That's what they called gold miners back in the day."

"Who called them that?" I asked no perplexed myself.

Jennifer shrugged. "That's just what they are called. That's why the football team is called 49ers."

I said, "They are called that because the California Gold Rush occurred in 1849, but I've never heard the term Miner 49er."

"Well I have my," wife said, "And I'm telling yout hat is what they were called."

I shook my head and said, "I think you dreamed that up."

It was a this point my son chimed in with, "YOU BETTER LISTEN TO DAD. HE WRITES BOOKS AND STUFF."

Now you better believe. I gave an AMEN! to that statement. And don't think I haven;t used it many times since. Every time my wife even give me a doubtful look I remind her, "Hey, I write books and stuff." I'm thinking about getting a batch of shirts made with the slogan.

By the way I googled Miner 49er and guess what, I did find a reference to the term. Miner Forty-Niner was a two bit villain in a Scooby Doo episode.

So my wife gleaned her info from the most time honored of History sources --Scooby Doo. And guess what? She would have gotten away with it, if it wasn't for those meddling kids.

I Might Never Eat a Baconator Again

2013-04-02T16:22:00.000-05:00

I am quite proud of my meat man status here in the web-o-sphere. Not a day goes by that I don't get a meat related picture, link, or product posted on my Facebook wall or Twitter stream. They never fail to make me smile and bear my carnivorous teeth.

I am every bit as devout in my Lettuce is the Devil dogma as I ever was.

So it might come as a shock when I say ... This whole bacon thing has done got out of hand.

Before I proceed I should point out if you have delicate sensibilities, are prudish, or embarrassed by sexual discussion now might be the time to click that X up in the right corner of your screen as this blog post is headed nowhere wholesome.

Of my regular meat contributors, the Jacksons, Steve and Elizabeth routinely send me the best jokes and most unique links. this morning was no different. (Don't worry Steve I won't question exactly how you discovered thee bad boys.)

Yes, those truly are bacon condoms. Bacon flavored, I read in the article though I do no see that description on the box and further investigation brought me to discover the inside packaging ...

and the actual product.

I have three words -- No! No! No!

Actually I have many more words. So many in fact, I don't really know where to start.

First he obvious pun, This gives a whole new meaning to porking.

Moving on.

Blowjobs are glorious things. I sang their praises in THE FEEDSTORE CHRONICLES for those who ahve read that little tome. But who the hell wants to get a blow job while wearing a condom, and furthermore who would want to suck on a chuck of latex? No doubt the Center for Disease Control recommends protection for oral sex, but let's face it, if you are ready to put another person's dick in your mouth you are probably a live for the moment, throw caution to the wind kinda of individual.

Now I get the bacon flavor is meant to cover up the latex taste so for the sake of arguing let's toss aside the blow job while wrapped up debate and move on to the next WTF moment.

Bacon is Delicious. It is hard (no pun intended) to resist. No, I am not saying these condoma are going to turn a straight man into a cocksucker. Or even a hungry woman into one. You either are or you aren't. Makes no matter to me and if you are thank you for making the world a better, happier place. What I am saying is it takes teeth to eat bacon. The last thing you want in that glorious tender moment of bliss is teeth crunching down.

"Oh shoot, honey. I forgot I was giving you a hummer. My mind went blank and I thought I was at Denny's having a Grand Slam."

"How many stitches you think that's going to take?"

Now let's forget all about blowjobs. (Y'all have no idea how hard it is for a man to type that sentence)

Let's say a fella is wearing one of those bacon flavored condoms, complete with bacon scented lube. Yep, it says that right there on the box. And let's say that fella is going to town like Peter Cottontail on crack. Friction comes into play and that lube gets warm. Like bacon grease in the frying pan.

Now the last thing you need is the distraction of a growling stomach just as you are hitting your stride.

And what happens when that delectable scent of hot bacon grease drifts out of the room. I happen to have to hungry growing boys. If that scent were to reach their bacon grubbing nostrils they would be bounding down the stairs shouting "BACON!" at the top of their lungs.

Try explaining that to the kiddos.

"Sorry son, but I don't have any bacon."
"I don't care what you smell."
"No, we didn't sneak off my McGriddles."
"That is the smell of me and your mom preventing more of you hungry little heathens."

And God forbid they find the discarded aftermath of your porky poke.

Therapy for sure.

And let's say you don't have kids. You are a fun loving single out our for the prowl. Why limit your quarry. What if that person you pick up is Muslim? Jewish?

No siree. I can't see one positive benefit.

If you want to wrap you wiener in bacon, might I suggest this ...

No Joke

2013-04-01T10:24:00.001-05:00

Happy April Fool's Day. Today marks this blog's ~~7th~~ 6th birthday. (Leave to a mathematician to correct me. Sir Stephen Parrish has pointed out I've only been blogging 6 years. Well it feels like 7 to me). ~~Seven~~ Six years. Given that internet time is much like dog years I think that makes this particular blog rather old. So much has happened these last seven years that in many ways it seems like a lifetime ago I started this journey.

Not as many people stop by as once did but I want think each of you who take time to read and comment whether it be every post for only occasionally.

This is going to be one of those rambling, a bit of everything posts that has no great them, message or even direction.

##################

So the other day our supervisors calls us into the break room and informs us that someone has apparently been masturbating in the bathroom stalls because the custodians have been complaining about suspicious stains on the walls.

No, I am not kidding.

All I got to say is somebody is WAY more excited about coming to work than I am.

#################

Now that I start typing I realize I might have a theme after all.

I've wnated to share this story despite the fact my son will be appalled if he finds out I did.

Zalen is 10 now. Here he is taking a flying leap into about a foot of water at Palo Duro Canyon.

His is my quiet, deep-thinking child. As well as a budding soccer star. He doesn't talk a lot but when he does you better watch out because you never know what is coming because just as in the picture he lets his true thoughts fly.

A kid in his class got stitches so on the way from school he begins grilling me about stitches. As with most conversations with 10 year old boys the chat took a bathroom humor direction when he said, "What if someone had to get stitches in their wiener?"

I said, "Most boys do get stitches in their wiener when they are circumcised."

We ride a few miles down the road in silence before he says, "Why do boys get circumcised?"

I explained that not all boys do but that it is a cultural thing done for both religious reasons as well as hygiene.

A few more miles of silence.

"Why don't they circumcise dogs."

I kind of chuckled and said there is no need. Dogs take care of their business and keep things cleaned themselves.

Again silence until Zalen states matter of fact, "Well, they should at least circumcise show dogs."

I'll never watch Westminster the same.

###################

Following those two stories is probably not the best introduction, but still I want to share the cover of my next book with y'all.

TWISTED ROADS will be released in May though my publisher still has not determined the exact date. I'm excited to share the story. Even more excited than I was THE FEEDSTORE CHRONICLES. I think because this story is pure fiction. A creation purely of my mind rather than a creative retelling of events. Long before I starting this blog I had the dream of seeing my name on the cover of a novel. This book fulfills that dream.

Satisfaction without staining the walls, or painful surgery.

Thank y'all for traveling the twisted road with me these past 7 6 years.

Live, From Texas ... It's Saturday Night!

2013-03-24T21:44:00.000-05:00

I love live music. Especially small venue live music.

I'm lucky in that the music I like best and the artists I most respect are not the huge arena and stadium types. I am a lyrics man first. Whether it be wit and cleverness or simply stunning wordsmith I greatly admire a musician than can turn a phrase, create a visual, or spin a good story in only a few minutes. there is no genre that does this better than Texas Country. Red Dirt. Y'allternative. I've heard all these terms used to describe the music I'm talking about.

Americana. Folk. Southern rock. And traditional country. These are the ingredients behind most Texas country. is ay most because really it can be anything that works. There is a freedom and rebellious nature behind this mostly independent and lesser known studio artists. They experiment. Create original sounds and songs. At times actively shun the mainstream. I like and respect that. I incorporated some of this attitude in my upcoming novel, TWISTED ROADS.

While rewriting the book and creating Lucas's character I listened to many such artists, but perhaps none as much as Mike McClure. The song, Haunt Me No More particularly spoke to me and my muse.

So when I heard Mike McClure was playing at a little dive bar down on Old Route 66 I had to go listen to him play. I enjoyed the show but wow was that the weirdest collection of people I've seen gathered in a while.

None more strange this this guy who decided to launch into a game of charades right int he middle of the concert.

Then there was the 70's throwback with his groovy wristband.

Now I like my beer as much as the next guy, and being a rather hairy fellow of substantial girth, I do my share of perspiring, but never have my paws gotten so wet, I couldn't hold onto me Shiner. Should that occur, perhaps I too will adopt the beer wrist band as a way to preserve every last drop of my beverage.

Then there was this guy. His peculiar actions made me video tape him as my immediate though was ... this is great blog fodder.

Concert charades? I'm sure you've all played. I sure hope that is his wife and I haven't unwittingly become a homeworker in the name of humor.

There was the girl with the odd spots on her exposed breasts. The gal with the super power wedgie from hell, a trio of robust women all wearing the same baby blue shirts, the tequila shooting gyrater with the lungs of an elephant, and a pair of I'm-Here-With-My-Sugar-Daddy-ers. I have pictures but in the name of good taste or at least better taste have opted not to post them. Take my word, there were some odd folks present that night.

And perhaps the weirdest of them all ...

Not sure what happened to this picture.It became fuzzy when I cropped my wife out. I didn't want to crop her out, but she said if I posted her image with all this craziness she would kill me. Given the fact she's downstairs right now watching Snapped, I'm not willing to risk it.

I will leave y'all with another of my favorite Mike McClure creations ... OUTLAWS PRAYER

The Next Big Thing (fingers crossed)

2013-03-19T15:50:00.001-05:00

The name of this blog stemmed from my pursuit for publication.Six years and somewhere int he neighborhood of 100 posts later I am proud to say I have achieved the goal of publication a good many times if you count short stories, non-fiction articles, and of course my memoir, THE FEEDSTORE CHRONICLES.

But the slippery ladder to success still has many rungs on it yet for me to climb. Today I am happy and to announce that come May I will lift my foot and inch ever so higher in my pursuit with the publication of my first novel.

These days I am much more active on both Twitter and Facebook than I am here on the blog but I still have a very fond spot in my heart for this blog and my many friends who I came to know via the blogosphere so I decided to announce the details of my novel here first. Several people have tagged me with the NEXT BIG THING meme over the past few months including Kevin Tipple, Peter Dudley, and Avery Debow. All three are talented writers so please go check them out.

As for the meme I sure its name is prophetic.

THE NEXT BIG THING

1: What is the working title of your book? TWISTED ROADS - Not a working title but the actual title as the novel is slated for a May release. No specific date yet, but I'll let y'all know as soon as I get word from my publisher.

2: Where did the idea come from for the book? Much like the characters in the book, this novel has traveled a Twisted Road to publication. I completed the original draft back in 2001. The idea for that version came to me back when I was a high school football referee. Most often I officiated games in tiny out of the way towns here in the Texas Panhandle and being a temporary outsider in such places gives you a unique glimpse at the dynamics of these towns. I began wondering what it would be like to move to such a place. Not by choice but by necessity. At first I wanted a total outsider as my central character, but eventually I decided they would have an easier time adapting as an unknown quantity than say someone who had fled as an exile. What if you had to move back to a close knit small town where few of anyone liked you? From there other character developed and changed over the years in various drafts. The story that will be published in May actually bears little resemblance to the original and now includes four POV characters. It is set in the fictional town of Grand, Texas

3: What genre does your book come under? Women's Fiction. I've yet to a write a single story that does not have at least a thread of a love story and TWISTED ROADS is no exception.

4: Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition? This is tough for me. Unlike many writers I do not picture actors or any other real life person when creating my characters. I have my own mental image and rarely do I think any particular actor is the perfect fit. Having said that, there is one character in this book, an old drunk named L.J. that serves a sort of Yoda wisdom guide role for several characters that I feel Kris Kristofferson would be a perfect for. And the novel has a musical element so that makes him an even better fit. Here are others, though I am not as enamored with those choices.

Angela Ross (the girl with the checkered past returns to Grand after running away 16 years ago) Actress Tricia Helfer

Lucas Cahill (Would be singer/songwriter who gave up not only a chance at a stardom but also his career as a lawyer to be near the woman he loves, but can't have in Grand, Texas)

I'm conflicted here because signer Dierks Bentley has the look I imagined for Lucas, but his Nashville sound contradicts with Lucas's brand of Texas music. And really he needs darker hair.

Shelly Sampson assumed her role Grand, Texas royalty back with her homecoming victory and in the sixteen years since she had fought desperately to remain atop the town's social ladder. But her looks are fading, her marriage is crumbling and she is hiding one hell of a secret.

Hilary Swank might work, but again she needs dark hair.

Jake Sampson a good ol' boy coasting along on the reputation he earned back in High School when he led the Grand Cougars to back-to-back state football titles. These days he can't even score with his own wife. But he would like another go at Angela now that she has returned.

This is another tough one for me. I can see Jake but I can't think of a real close match so I'll go with actor Ryan Hurst.

There are of course more characters but that covers the four point of view characters plus L.J. who I always thought of as Kris Kristofferson.

5: What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? Desperation brought her back, love convinced her to linger, but that was before she learned Grand, Texas is a small town, hiding big lies.

6: Is your book self-published, published by an independent publisher, or represented by an agency? TWISTED ROADS is being published by TAG Publishing LLC.

7: How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?Nine months for the first draft, but many drafts and years have slid by since then.

8: What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? Jennifer Crusie's Welcome to Temptation comes to mind first. And not really in the genre but there are elements of Larry McMurtry's The Last Picture Show as well.

9: Who or what inspired you to write this book? Not a who and the what was covered up above. But I will add my love of Texas music colored Lucas's character, who was not in the original draft. Once Lucas hit the scene the book took on more life.

10: What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? Life rarely travels the exact path we envision or want, but often the twists and turns along the way lead us to our best moments. The same can be said for this novels as well as the characters it contains. I came with a whisker, okay actually a marketing meeting of of placing this novel with a big New York House a decade ago. At the time I was bummed. Looking back I'm glad it didn't happen. The team at TAG saw potential in the book and urged me to improve upon it. TWISTED ROADS is a better book for it, and I am excited for y'all to read it. Had it been published 10 years ago as it was, I wouldn't be half as proud as I am now.

Bluebonnets in Blume

2013-03-04T16:32:00.002-06:00

The bluebonnet is the state flower of Texas.

Bluebonnet is also the name of a literary award sponsored by the Texas Library Association. Here is a blurb from their website.

Texas Bluebonnet Award

is a unique program that encourages
reading for pleasure and is aimed at
students in grades 3-6. Each year, 20
books are chosen as the “Texas
Bluebonnet Award Master List” by
the TBA selection committee.
If students read a minimum of five
books from the current master list
(or have the books read aloud to
them), they have the opportunity to
vote for their favorite title during the
month of January each year. The
author of the book receiving the most
votes statewide is declared the winner
of the Texas Bluebonnet Award.

I tell you this for two reason. one, I cut my reading teeth on Bluebonnet winners like Superfudge by Judy Blume and Ramona and Her Father by Beverly Cleary

As far as I know my school did not participate in the official voting, however my 10 yer old son's school does. And he took the task very serious this year reading a dozen of the nominated books. He was quite proud and excited he would get to vote. Well that and his school's librarian does an excellent job of promoting the reading and the participating in the award by hosting a party for the kids that are eligible to vote.

The morning of the big event he was downright giddy and I just could resit having some fun with him so I lowered my voice conspiratorial and whispered. "When it comes time to vote go ahead and right down my book, THE FEEDSTORE CHRONICLES."

The look of pure disgust that graced his face was priceless as he said, "No, Dad. The award is for good books."

Of course he hasn;t actualy read my book as he is not old enough to know THAT MUCH about his dear old dad, but he is quite disgusted by the image of that guy pinching that girls butt on the cover.

For the record, I am not sure what book he did vote for but I believe the winner will be announced in April.

This Bucking Sucks

2013-03-03T15:13:00.001-06:00

$1.26

One buck, one quarter, and one penny.

That will buy you about a 1/3 gallon of gas depending where you live. If your rides gets 30mpg that $1.26 will get you 10 miles.

Or you can purchase something in the neighborhood of 1/6 of a movie tickets which equals about 20 minutes of entertainment.

For three more pennies $1.29 you can get yourself a Whopper Jr. at BK, but unless you are 8 that is unlikely to full your gut.

However, you can buy the PRINT copy, an actual hold in your hands book, of my labor. Better than a year's worth of labor if you count rewrites.

That puts my per day profit at 0.0034520547945205 cents per copy sold. Or at least it would if Amazon and my publisher didn't take a cut. I'm not even going to do the math because a third of a cent is woeful enough.

Tell me again why I do this?

Oh yeah, Because I love it.

p.s. The Kindle version is even cheaper at $1.20

This Post Sucks ... (but it ain't the only thing)

2013-02-27T13:42:00.001-06:00

I was at a friend's house this weekend. A group of us were sitting around the fireplace on his back porch drinking and chatting about life in general. It was chilly, but the big blizzard was still 24 hours out and the the fire was blazing so all was good.

The writer in me studied the group. An eclectic group on many levels. Almost sitcom-esque in makeup. The cigar smoking former Chippendale waiter turned big shot executive. The hairy rum swilling writer of women's fiction. An Australian triathlete. And don't forget Aaron, modeling his Hungarian Elmer Fudd hat.

Our wives were inside stirring soup and plotting adventures.

As we waited on even more of our group to arrive Murph, the cigar smoking host looked at me and asked, "Did I show you my new toy."

Those of us already in attendance proceeded tot he garage where Murph unveiled a gleaming Harley. He fired that bad boy up and told me to hop on. I shook my head.

"Come on take it for a spin."
"Nope. Not me. I'm fat and hairy but that doesn't make me a biker."

***********

Speaking of Murph. Last week I went to a brand new doctor and much to my surprise the man talked exactly like my friend. So much so I couldn't help, but smile all the way through my physical. Now I'm sure my new doc thinks I'm some kind of weirdo and trust me the last thing you wanna do is grin like a damned fool when another man has you by the balls, but his inflection, tone and vocabulary were so eerily similar to my buddy I simply couldn't stop myself.

And that wasn't event he oddest thing about my visit.

I had to surrender some blood for a variety of test but I have notoriously bad veins. The roll, collapse and are deep and hard to find for even the most seasoned of nurses. The nurse tasked with extracting my blood was around my age maybe a few years younger and she tried hard but thirty minutes in she was getting pretty frustrated as her failed bid to become a vampire.

Finally she manged to get in a vein but my blood was tricking out one drip ... drop ... at ... a ... time. We would be there all ... day ... at ... that ... rate, so she reached for a syringe and said, "When I can't get what I want out of a man I usually suck it out."

I didn't want to snort but damn that was funny. Realizing her mistake she looked at me and said, "That sounded bad didn't it?"

I shrugged and said, "Well, I've had a lot more ominous threats presented to me."

Life Always Has Its Lumps

2013-02-22T12:31:00.000-06:00

Lots of things transpired during my 6 month blog hiatus. Turns out, life rolls on whether you blog about it or not. The high, lows and everything in between. Once upon a time I shared them all with y'all because that is how friends are. And frankly doing so helped hone my writing skills and turn me into a better writer.

Today I'd like to share some of my writing that also happens to tie into perhaps the most significant event that happened during my blogging hiatus.

I was raised by a single mother that had to work full-time to support me and my brother. I was lucky enough to have a great set of grandparents that also were heavily involved in my life. Many of y'all have read the memoir I wrote about my grandfather's passing in conjunction with the birth and subsequent heart surgery of my oldest son. Sadly back in December my grandmother joined my grandfather in the everafter.

My Granny Howery shaped who I am as she was second only to my mom in influence in my life. As many of you know I've been working on a comedic memoir/cookbook/manifesto title Lettuce Is The Devil. Until my grandmother's passing I'd never shared one scrap of that project, but Chapter 3 showcased much of how I felt and was influenced by my grandmother so I shared it on Facebook and today I want to share it with those of you who do not follow me there. Today I've added a few photos to enhance the story.

From Chapter 3 of Lettuce Is the Devil : The Culinary Dogma of a Devout Meat Man

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve proclaimed the words, “Lettuce is the Devil,” I’d have enough money to purchase a lush mountain valley, complete with a herd of well-marbled Bonsmara beef cattle and a gurgling stream, teaming with fat and hungry trout and meandering by a nice spacious log cabin, containing two huge copper beer vats -- full to the brim of dark malty ale. Yes, my friends I would be in Meat Man utopia.

But alas, spreading the gospel has not brought me that kind of fame or fortune to this point, which is why I thank you for purchasing this tomè and helping to remedy that gross injustice. Furthermore, now seems like a fine time for me to point out that this book would make a fine gift to all your friends, family and fellow countrymen, whether they happen to already be a righteous member of the meat loving brethren in need of fellowship, or a sinful, veggie-phyte in dire need of enlightenment.

Now let’s get back to my personal motto, “Lettuce is the Devil.” Upon utterance of these ever-so-truthful words I am met with a wide variety of responses.

A fellow Meat Man is likely to offer an immediate high-five, or perhaps a military salute, whereas a vegetarian is apt to give a nervous chuckle. Vegans often swoon and faint on the spot, but given their frail and anemic dispositions that is no rare occurrence.

The vast majority of omnivores respond with a question. “Okay, I’ll bite,” they say. “If lettuce is the devil, what is God?”

God.

The All-Mighty.

Lord Of All Creation.

No food can live up to such lofty titles, so it is at this point I have to explain that when I say … “Lettuce is the Devil,” I don’t mean in the physical, forked tail and gleaming red eyes kind of way, so much as I mean the ultimate evil -- the epitome of the joy-sapping darkness draining all happiness and color from this world.

Therefore, the Anti-Devil, the divine, the most heavenly edible on this earth is not to be thought of as creator or even as the All-Knowing deity that people the world over turn to in times of need. No, the culinary king of peace, the messiah of mealtime is more of a savory savior. A righteous symbol of all that is good and right in the universe. It makes the dinner place a better place to sit. It heals, soothes, nourishes, and brings hope to even the most horrendous of slop.

So what is this virtuous vittle?

Steak -- perhaps, a nicely marinated rib-eye, or maybe even a porterhouse?

Nope.

I concede steak is a worthy and wholesome meal, as well as a palate pleasing source of nutrition, but not even a perfectly cooked piece of beef can heal everything it touches. Steak does not make everything it comes in contact with taste better.

Bacon then you say? Surely it must the God of meats. After all, it makes everything it touches taste better. People even sprinkles bits of it on salad to improve the taste.

You are correct. Lettuce munchers do use bacon, and let me add what a terrible waste of pig flesh. Bacon, the candy of the meat world can and will help to cover the vile taste of the evil green one, but despite its tasty crunch and satisfying flavor, bacon is not The One, for it lacks the soothing tranquility necessary to bring about change. And the pure and holy food would never allow itself to be associated with bits of salad.

I hear the rumblings of the congregations, the impatience of the doubting Thomases. Not steak. Not Bacon.

They are the dynamic duo. The superheroes of the butcher shop. What meat could possibly be more righteous than either steak or bacon?

Hold onto your cleaver my friends, but the Yahweh of Yummy is not technically even a meat.

The Anti-Devil, The Supreme Culinary Comfort, the Dietary Deity is … Brown Gravy.

Do not be fooled its viscous nature, Brown Gravy's classification as food is steadfast and solid. Beverages are served in glasses, mugs, bottles, cans, and a variety of stemware. Dipping sauces come in dainty little bowls and ramekins. But like the very forefathers that forged this nation, Brown Gravy arrives in a boat.

Brown Gravy is forged from the juice of meat. Its base, the savory fluid, is the very essence of meat. But in a display of tolerance, love, and harmony Brown Gravy combines this delectable nectar with flour, the powdery essence of the wheat plant and transforms into the most holy of foods. Thick and meaty of flavor, and capable of supper time salvation, Brown Gravy can turn a plain ground beef patty into a hamburger steak. Let me say that again. Ground beef into a steak. Remind you of someone famous that once turned water into wine?

Let me hear an AMEN!

And along those same lines it is said Jesus fed the masses with but a few loaves and a couple of fish. My mother used to do the same thing, only on a smaller scale, by feeding her two hungry teenage boys with half a pound of round steak and a boatload of Brown Gravy. No one knows how to stretch the budget better than a single mom.

But Brown Gravy’s miraculous ability to save does not end there. Picture this … you have a grill full of burgers going when that hot neighbor next door decides to mow her lawn. In a string bikini. Distracted you fail to notice the flare-ups. In a matter of minutes your tasty burgers shrivel and die. You could feed the dry, hockey puck like patties to the dog, but the game is about to start so you don’t have to time to cook yourself more. What is a Meat Man to do? Easy, whip up a quick batch of brown gravy, pour the ambrosia over the burgers and all is well for everyone but Fido.

Or your time of crisis could come as a result of your wife’s hysterectomy, when taking pity on you, your mother-in-law brings over her “World Famous” meatloaf to help feed the family. Until that moment in time you never realized “World Famous” was a synonym for bland, tasteless, and dry, but as your starving kids gaze upon you with those sad, do-we-really-have-to-eat-this eyes you remember that packet of brown gravy just sitting up there in the cupboard waiting to embrace a bad meal and turn it into something good.

I’ll grant you that fresh, totally homemade Brown Gravy, the kind grandma used to make is the best, but part of the beauty of Brown Gravy is that even emergency rations, such as the powder-filled, ready-made packets, offer hope and peace in times of need.

Legend has it that as a small child I’d eat anything. Whirled peas, spinach, purred carrots. My family tells me this was the case until just after my fourth birthday when I got deathly sick, and ran a high temperature for days,. They say I laid there sweating and shivering in that hospital bed. They say I nearly died. They say, the day my fever broke was the last day I was willing to eat vegetables.

Now I suppose there are several ways to explain this change. Perhaps I saw a light and realized life is too damned short to spend eating crap that tastes like weeds and lawn clippings. Perhaps I figured out eating all that “nutritious” stuff damn near killed me. Perhaps a carnivorous angel watched over me and whispered meaty lullabies in my ear while my body fought to survive. Truthfully, I don’t really care what brought about the change, I’m just mighty glad the truth found me, and at such an early age that my body, mind, and taste buds were not tainted beyond repair.

Not that my family didn't try to perpetuate the damage. As the saying goes, misery loves company so my kinfolk, especially my mom, tried to turn me back to vegetables. For years, I battled my mom and others at mealtime.

You can’t go outside and play until you eat EVERYTHING on your plate.
How are you ever going to grow up big and tall if you don’t eat your veggies?
I don’t care if we have to sit here all night neither one of us is getting up from the table until you’ve eaten those three green beans.

Yep, we had some battles.

My mom won her share, but this book is evidence that in the end, she lost the war.

Lucky for me, I could count on one steady and constant ally. – my Grandmother, or Granny Howery as I called her.

Granny Howery not only told everyone else to leave me alone, but fearing my stubborn streak would lead to starvation, she went out of her way to make the few things I was willing to eat. Like Brown Gravy. And no one, made Brown Gravy like my Granny Howery.

It didn’t matter what else she cooked my grandmother ALWAYS made a batch of Brown Gravy, special for me. Many a time the family ate casserole, or goulash, or stew while I dipped fresh, hot buttery dinner rolls in Brown Gravy.

“Oh, leave him alone,” my grandmother would say to my mom, aunts, and uncles. “At least he’s eating something.”

Granny Howery steadfastly defended me to others, but in private she’d sometimes whisper, “You really should eat some vegetables. You don’t wanna get rickets.”

To this day I’m not sure what rickets actually is, but I do know I never got them, and at six-foot five, and nearly three-hundred pounds I’m kind of glad I didn’t eat all that stuff, for I do believe I’m as big and strong as anybody needs to be.

Not all Brown Gravy is as good or smooth as Granny Howery’s Brown Gravy, sometimes there are even a few lumps in it, but you know what? Life ain’t always fair, or easy. A Meat Man, however, knows how to deal with the trouble. A Meat Man embraces all situations. A Meat man follows Covenant #3 ...

DON’T LET THE LUMPS SLOW YOU DOWN

Like I said, me and my mom waged many a battle over my Meat Man or in those days, Meat Boy, diet. My dad was even worse, but given the fact he only showed up every six months or so those conflicts were sporadic at best.

By the time I was seven or eight my mom had begun to realize the cause was lost. She'd mostly given up the fight, except when others were around. I suppose she feared criticism of her parenting skills for allowing me to eat only meat and bread. Maybe she worried they would call CPS and turn her in for not providing proper nutrition. Heck, maybe they all whispered in her ear, “That boy is gonna get rickets if you don’t start making him eat his vegetables.” All I know is the last real skirmish of our war occurred at a family function up in Denver, Colorado. Had we been boxers, it would've been dubbed – The Mile High Melee.

I believe it was a funeral, but I suppose it could’ve been a wedding. Whatever the reason we'd made the six hour trek north and were staying with some cousins. There was lots of extended family around. So many that we kids were not allowed in the kitchen to make our own plates. Given that we were nearly four hundred miles from Granny Howery’s kitchen the chances were slim to none that Brown Gravy would be served, so I was already dreading the meal, even before my mom handed over my plate.

A slice of ham, a dinner roll, some kind of nasty pink marshmallowy casserole stuff, and three green beans. Staring down in horror, I didn’t realize those three green beans were about to be the stuff of legend. Sorry Jack, but no tale of beans, yes even those of Fee-Fi-Fo fame, has spawned as much grief for their owner as that trio of legumes did me.

I ate the ham.
I ate the biscuit.
I fed the pink marshmallow goo to my cousins' Afghan hound, but the big hairy bastard wouldn’t eat so much as one of the green beans.

Man’s best friend my ass. A few years later that same Afghan sunk its teeth into my hand and I have no doubt the bite was retaliation for my repeated attempts to poke those beans down its throat. Never before, or after, did the pooch show even the slightest sign of aggression.

After a while my mom wandered over to the kids table. “You’re not going to go play with the other kids until you eat those green beans.”

I stared at her.
She stared back.

“Hurry up, Travis,” said my cousin Keith. “So we can go outside and play hide and seek.”

I shot him a look.

“Fine, I’ll eat them for you,” he said.

“Oh no you won’t,” chimed in my mom from across the room. “Earlier she hadn’t been paying a damned bit of attention, but now she was in heat seeking missile mode. Maybe she’d seen the Afghan licking his pink lips and realized I’d do anything to avoid eating the undesirable elements on my plate.

I sat there.
I begged.
I pleaded.
I cried.
I pouted.
And eventually got my way --sort of.

I was forced to go to bed extra early, while my cousins ran and played. But, I didn’t eat those three green beans.

The funeral, wedding or whatever it was had been the day before so the next morning the family loaded up a Winnebago and headed into the snowy mountains. This was the late seventies, so the RV was one of those huge, tin-boxes on wheels. Our clan was headed up near Winter Park to go tubing. We kids sat in the back, staring out the Winnebago’s rear window while making rude gestures at the unlucky motorists behind us. All the way up the mountain pass, my cousins teased me about having to go to bed early ... all because I wouldn’t eat three stupid green beans.

Bean boy.
Sprout.
Jolly Green Crybaby.

I took the taunts of my older cousins with all the grace, dignity, and unassuming gusto as any eight-year-old boy would. By whining, crying and complaining to any adult that would listen. But I didn't find so much as a single sympathetic ear as they all too thought I should've eaten those three green beans. Granny Howery had stayed back in Denver with the other senior set.

Things settled down when we reached out destination and we’d been tubing the better part of the day when it happened.

For those who have never gone tubing let me explain this rather simple activity. You take a inflatable inner tube, flop yourself down on it and slide down the mountain.

The laidback tuber prefers the butt in the hole position, as if they were simply floating along a gentle river, whereas the more daring folk assumed a belly down deployment so as to hurdle down the mountainside head first. Either way, getting from point A, at the top of the hill, to point B, several hundred yards down the hill, was relatively easy. Gravity did all the work.

However, getting from point B, back to Point A, was not nearly as convenient. In those days the process involved laying supine on the tube and holding onto a handle which was attached to a cable which pulled you back up. Sounds rather innocent, but after a long day of fun my eight-year-old arms began to tire.

There I was, getting hauled back to the top for the umpteenth time when I simply gave out and let go.

Gravity took over.

I plunged downward.

Sliding feet-first, I went no more than seven or eight feet before I collided with my mom. In a domino case of cause and effect, my snow boots impacted the side of her head, bringing about the release of her tenuous grip. With two tubers hurling down it wasn't long until a slew of folks were gathered up in an avalanche of flesh and rubber heading the wrong direction. Most happened to be related to me, but there were a few unsuspecting and innocent strangers among the disgruntled and battered bodies at the bottom of the hill.

Some were groaning, a few were cussing and most were trying to assess their various bumps, scrapes and bruises when Keith piped up and said, “Dang, it Travis. You should’ve eaten those three green beans.”

Three decades have passed since then. One for each of those green beans and yet, to this day I am known as the-kid-who-wouldn’t-eat-his-veggies. The family still talks about their minor injuries that day as if they lost limbs and shed copious amounts of blood, but they have never found a empathetic listener in me. For I know, had they fed me Brown Gravy rather than a trio of legumes, they could have easily avoided their lumps.

The Right Balance to Write

2013-02-20T11:06:00.002-06:00

There are two realities every writer needs to know. So I read a tweet in my twitter stream the other day.

1) You will never make every reader happy.
2)You will never make yourself completely happy. (because the end product never quite lives up to the vision)

I agree on both accounts but the first reality never has plague me much. I can handle both criticism and a discerning viewpoint. My years as a high school football ref here in Texas were great for teaching me that skill. Matter of fact I wish people were more direct and blunt in their criticism for it is easier to see where they are coming from and sometimes even agree and fix the problem when it is clearly stated.

That second reality has plagued me the last few years. Back when I first started writing it was all enthusiasm and bluster. I wrote hoping but not truly expecting others would read my words. As I have found a measure of success over the years I now expect, though I am at times disappointed, that whatever I'm writing will see the light of day. With that expectation comes an innate pressure to make it absolutely perfect. To make the story and characters on paper every bit as alive and vibrant as the they are in the movie running through my brain.

And that my friends is an impossible task. As the author I will always know more about the story and its inhabitants than my readers. I understand this, but I struggle with the paradox. And this struggle has turned me into a very slow writer. Which is why there has been no follow up to THE FEEDSTORE CHRONICLES despite the fine folks over at TAG Publishing urging me on. It is why I migrated away from the blog. It is why I have a handful of projects in various stages of incompleteness.

But I'm not going to let this self imposed pressure define me or stop me from writing. I'm going to find a way to face the reality that no story I ever write will feel totally complete in my mind.

I know I am not alone. Many authors have battled such feelings. Perhaps that is why so many authors are known alcoholics.

Truman Capote once said, "I drink , because that's the only way I can stand it."

Edgar Allan Poe lived to see his 40th birthday but barely and while the exact cause of his death is unknown alcohol, drugs, rabies, suicide, tuberculosis, and other causes have been cited.

O Henry, the master of the twist died an alcoholic at 48.

The list goes on and on. Faulkner, Bukowski, Fitzgerald, Kerouac, and of course Hemingway.

I am not trying to compare myself to any of these writers as they certainly had way more pressure and expectations on their shoulders. I am saying I understand where their compulsion to drink just might have came from. Of course the world is stocked full of drunkards without a drop of literary ambition so perhaps I am reaching here.

I guess this post is as much for myself and my close writing friends as much as anything. May it serve as a reminder perfection is not why we began writing, but excitement. Enthusiasm for telling a good story And that should not change regardless if but a few, or many happen to read our creations.

Chef Boy-r-T

2013-02-18T22:16:00.000-06:00

How do you follow a post about bathroom fixtures? With one about food of course.

But rest assured I washed my hands thoroughly between the two.

My love of all things meaty is no secret. And I'll go ahead and say it, I know how to handle my meat. This carnivore can cook some animal flesh. Smoker, BBQ grill, crockpot. Regardless of the means, I can hold my own. And no, that is not a reference back to the urinal post.

And believe it or not. I'm not talking about tossing a hunk of beef on hot grates and calling it good. Though there are times when that is exactly what needs done. But I am capable of getting a touch fancier with my meals. But sometimes my boys are skeptical and do not want to try new things. So I reinvent them.

Case in point -- Pirate Chicken

Now this is one of my favorite summertime meals. In truth it is coconut lime chicken, but when I called it that my boys wouldn't eat it. The next time I served it up I called it pirate chicken and they tore into with happy little taste buds.

Here is how it's created ...

Take 6 to 8 boneless skinless chicken breasts put them in a glass baking dish.
Pour in coconut rum until there is a thin layer of liquid covering bottom of dish.
Cover the top of each breast with cream of coconut.

Bake in over at 325 degrees for around 30 minutes. (I can't tell you exactly because I like to sip the remainder of the run during this process and we all know how time flies when you're having rum.)

Heat up your grill.

Take breast out of oven and and place on hate grill. A few minutes on each side does it. While its cooking brush on a thin layer of cream of coconut and sprinkled shredded coconut on top.

Once the chicken is browned pull it off and squeeze fresh lime juice onto the breast pieces. Sprinkle sea salt and fresh ground black pepper to your taste.

I highly recommend you pair this with a Shiner Ruby Red.

Okay, I know it may have shocked you to realize 1)I don't always eat beef, 2) I actually recommend squeezing the juice of something green onto your food, and 3) I touted a beer brewed with grapefruit juice so let me get back to some good Texas beef with this next one.

My boys won't eat roast. Or so they think. They claim roast is bland and tasteless. So when I make it I spice it up and call it Mexican Brisket.

Pick a roast that will fit in your crockpot. (pot roast, rump roast whatever kind is fine by me. I like them all and go for whatever I can get the best price on.)

Get some Fiesta Brand (salt free) Fajita Seasoning. It looks like this. (most stores, at least around here carry it)

Rub the entire roast down with the seasoning. Just enough where it sticks to the meat and covers it like freckles on that red headed girl you knew back in grade school. Yes, that is a genuine cooking term. thanks for asking.

Next pour in Worcestershire Sauce into your crockpot until it thoroughly cover the bottom of the pot. Add in couple of tablespoons of liquid smoke . Place roast inside and pour a cup of salsa on top. I use Old Tascosa myself and consider it the best.

But it is made right here in Amarillo and not widely distributed outside the region so unless you go here to their store and order it, or live nearby you are going to have to substitute some other brand. Y'all know I don't eat vegetables in their natural form but in liquid form such as hot sauce, pizza sauce and ketchup they are not nearly as evil.

Back to the roast. Put the lid on and cook that sucker for 6, 7, even 8 hours on low. I usually start this on in the morning, go to work and come home ready to dig in. The meat usually shreds easy and is quite tasty inside a flour tortilla. My boys eat it and even have said, "This is so much tastier than roast."

There you go folks. two of my favorite recipes that go beyond a hunk of animal flesh over a fire. Try 'em out and let me know what you think.

Taking a Stand

2013-02-15T10:07:00.000-06:00

So there I was, standing, conducting my business when it struck me just how unoriginal and predictable we men are.

How else to you explain the word urinal.

Urinals are manly domain. I suppose a daring woman could perfect a leaning hover move and use one in certain circumstances but their back would get wet at the very least. Now we men are quite proud of our ability to stand and piss at the same time, but our multitasking ability seems to end there. Apparently, we are unable to use our brains as well. Perhaps we simply are incapable of thinking while holding our junk.

How else do you explain an asinine term like urinal. Sure it beats the urinator, but not by much.

The word urinal certainly does not compare with toilet, loo, bidet. And your regular unisex plumbing fixture carry a plethora of nicknames crapper, the head, porcelain throne, john, privy, the can and so forth. But if there are other terms for the urinal I'm unaware. (In recollection I did once hear a drunk man call one a piss trough but that was on relation tot he thing below and not what I'd call a true urinal)

I could diverge here and wax on poetically about the joys of gathering with a variety of drunken sports fans to piss together into a glorified bathtub, but I'm not. You men have already experienced this brand of camaraderie and you women will only shake your head. Come to think of it that is the final step in the prcess for men as well.

Moving on.

I am still baffled that we can have urinals like these ...

... and still not have a better word.

Sad thing even as a writer my imagination fails me at the moment.

Long Time Forgotten

2013-02-14T10:59:00.001-06:00

Once upon a time this blog was my oasis. It was where I came to vent, rant, commiserate, and meet up with my friends. Not sure how many friends I still have who subscribe or bother to check this blog but not that I FINALLY finished rewrites on what I hope is going to be my next book I felt compelled to revitalize this blog.

I'm not sure if I'm getting lazier or life truly is getting that much busier but wow do I miss the good old days when I wrote this blog on a daily basis, as well as 2K-5K words of fiction each and every day.
Since my last update I've turned 40 so perhaps I'm just getting lazy in my middle age.

I had hinted at a big announcement in the last few post I wrote. At the time it had seemed I was about to embark on a huge endeavor. Sadly, my faith in that endeavor ever happening is not what it once was. I can;t say much as I did sign a confidentiality clause but the "big announcement" had something to do with TV cameras and me living with a group of strangers in a competitive setting. I would use the word reality but at this point after many hops and much effort the reality is I'm not very confidant its all going to come together.

So moving on.

A plethora of my friends have published books as of late.I won't inundate you with long flowery praise for these folks but I guarantee you there is a book or three on this list for all tastes so if you are looking for a good read check out a few of these. Most are available as both e-books and print editions.

THE RAINBIRD WAR by ALEX KETO -- When Richard Goodwin returns to Kenya after 15 years, he’s shocked to see that the peaceful colony he left as a child is gripped by bloody rebellion: the vicious Mau Mau are murdering settlers, burning villages, and slaughtering livestock in their bid to take back the land. Swept into the ruthless fighting as the killings mount, Richard wonders if he has another enemy, too—an insider who somehow knows his unit's location and wants him dead. Is it someone among the decadent, drug-addled settler aristocracy, or one of the two women he’s in love with?

Amazon.com Widgets

FORSADA by PETER DUDLEY -- Lupay isn't afraid of fighting, but what can one girl do against an army?Thousands of Southshawans, whipped into a war frenzy by a fundamentalist demogague, are poised to sweep in and crush her home of Tawtrukk, and Lupay is powerless to stop it.

Or is she?

Driven into hiding and pursued even into the depths of the mountain, Lupay and her friens do their best to resist. But resistance won't withstand the onslaught forever, and ultimately Lupay must choose: flee into the radioactive barrens of the Desolation, or rise up and fight fire with fire, like the legendary Tawtrukk warrior queen, Forsada.

Forsada is the second book in the New Eden series, which begins with SEMPER. You can get SEMPER at Amazon here: bit.ly/semperbook

Amazon.com Widgets

FLICKER by MELANIE HOOYENGA -- Biz is a perfectly normal teenager except for one minor detail: she uses sunlight to jump back to yesterday. She takes advantage of flickering by retaking Trig tests, fixing fights with her boyfriend (or reliving the making up), and repeating pretty much anything that could be done better. Trouble is, flickering makes her head explode from the inside. Or feel like it anyway.

No one knows about her freakish ability and she’s content to keep it that way. Guys don't stick around because she refuses to let them in, but all that changes when Cameron, her best friend, starts looking oh-so-yummy. Suddenly she's noticing his biceps, his smile, and the cute way his eyes crinkle when he—gah! This is her friend!

But the butterflies come to a screeching halt when little girls start disappearing, then take a nosedive when the police link the kidnappings to Cameron's sister, who vanished years earlier. As the police grasp for clues, Biz photographs a strange man lurking in the shadows and realizes that her flickering can help more than just herself.

FOREST OF THE FORSAKEN by JOANNE BROTHWELL -- Forbidden love. Buried secrets. The ultimate betrayal.

Following her mother’s death to cancer, Meg’s world crashes in around her. Her father re-marries within weeks of their loss, her step-mother is cold and rejecting, and her new step-brother, Joey, has some rather unusual sexual preferences. Meg’s only hope is to move away and leave her father and the dark memories behind.

When her father forces her to attend his honeymoon with this new and unwanted blended family, Meg finds herself in the remote wilderness of the Rocky Mountains, miles from civilization. Meg begins to see things in the forbidding forest—strange, unexplainable things she believes are the result of compounding stress. But when her father and step-mother disappear, leaving Meg and Joey to fend for themselves, lost and without supplies, she realizes her terrifying visions are not merely her imagination after all.

Will Meg and Joey find their way back to civilization? Or will they submit to the darkness within the Forest of the Forsaken?

In this eerie, erotic adaptation of Hansel and Gretel, the fairy tale ending may be far from happy.

BUCK and TANGEE: THINGS THAT HAPPENED by JON ZECH -- I thought when I finished this book, I was through writing. My editor thought otherwise and said I had to write something for the back cover to sort of sum up what the book was about. I guess that makes sense, and I figured it would be easy. It wasn't. Every time I tried to chop a forty page section down to two or three sentenses, it sounded stupid. Look:
The first section is about how my brother, Roy, and I tried to start a men'sonly, beer allowed, version of one of those PlastiQueen kitchenware parties. It didn't go well. There. See? Does that sound like a story you'd want to read? Maybe.

And the second part, about how four buddies and I took a trip out to Vegas in a reconditioned, forty-year-old school bus. Lots of things happened, but I can't cut any of them down to just a few words. Okay, here's one: When we pulled in to our very first overnight campsite, we had no idea we'd wake up in the morning, axel deep in.... No. I'm just not going to spoil it.

Then in the third section, Tangee got a job and I wrote this book. There, right? Not fair. Look, buy this book and read it. Then email me and tell me how you would have squashed it all into two hundred and fifty words.

I'm going to call it good for today with these five but I will include others in upcoming posts.

Today's sample has some Historical Fiction, Young Adult, Erotica, and Comedy. Please check them out.