Yeah.  Me too.

First off, I’m a sucker for kids selling Kool-Aid by the side of the road.  I don’t know what it is, maybe some deep-seated sympathy or just the effort it must take for these little guys n’ gals to put together an impromptu business with no real hope for making a quick buck.  When I see one and I’ve got cash on me, I stop.  That’s all there is to it.

Yesterday was almost the exception.

On my way to pick up Jake from the in-home daycare he frequents, I saw three little girls on a corner in the distance.  They were laying in their yard, roasting in the sun…waiting for someone, anyone to come by.

That’s the thing about the suburbs, man.  Cars aren’t streaming down the roads.  Business is never all that good in the hood.

Once they heard the roar of my engine, they scrambled up, grabbed their sign and ran toward the cooler sitting in the hot grass.

The sign said: LEMONADE & FRESH SUGAR COOKIES .25

Now, there are two things about this that won me over:

1. It’s a Kool Aid stand that didn’t buckle to inflation.  25 cents for some delicious Kool-Aid?  Yes ma’am.  That’s a bargain.

2. Cookies.  There are few cookies in this world that I’ll turn down.  Sugar cookies ARE NOT one of them.

I tried to think if there was cash in my wallet (which was out of reach) and I didn’t think there was.  With a heavy heart, I drove past.  As I did, I could see the girls (who were momentarily excited by the prospect of business) lower their signs and their spirits.  I watched this from the rear-view mirror as I pressed on the last block to pick up Bubba (Jake).  As I collected my smiling, blond-haired kid from his daycare, a scene played back in my head.  It was a vision of the night before when I went with a friend (Mr. H) to go see SCOTT PILGRIM VS. THE WORLD and how I pre-purchased both of our tickets online for cheap.  I then had a flash of the transaction that took place when I met said friend.  Six dollars went into my wallet.

I had cash, y’all.

As I loaded Jakers into the truck, I asked him a question I knew the answer to:

“Jake,” I said.  “Do you want to get a cookie?”

“Cooka?  (his word for cookie in case you hadn’t…never mind)

With more excitement than necessary, I jumped into the truck, fired it up and headed back to the Kool-Aid stand.  The girls were sitting around their cooler, likely ready to close up shop.  Having seen me drive by once, they seemed less-than-excited that the truck that dissed them before was coming back again.  I rolled up to the curb and dropped the window.

“How’s business?”  I asked.

“Good,” the oldest of the girls lied.

“Awesome,” I said, already reaching for the 5-spot in my wallet.  “Lemme get a couple cookies and some lemonade.”

“What flavor?”  The youngest, manning the cooler asked.

I almost said lemon-flavored but stayed my tongue.  What other flavors of lemonade besides pink were there?

She rattled off the different flavors (about 7) and I zeroed in on fruit punch.  I’m a sucker for some fruit punch Kool Aid, people.

So, I secured 3 cookies and a glass of some watered down FP for a cool 5 bucks.  No change required.  THAT”S how I roll.

I handed a cookie to Jake and his eyes lit up like he’d won the lottery.

“Cooka!”  We left and headed off to pick up Travis from school/summer program.  As I looked in the rear-view mirror, I saw the girls high-fiving each other.  Five dollars?  Well spent.

So, that, along with getting asked to write 3 more books, the new Eels album made half of my week rock pretty hard-core.

On the flip side?  This evening…

So, when I work-out at the health club, I take my kids to the Kid’s Club they have there.  It’s pretty sweet.  There’s all sorts of cool games, things to play on and even computers for them to mess around with.  Both Travis and Jake like going there…a lot.  It works out pretty slick.  I get to work myself into a smelly, sweaty mess and they get to tear it up with a bunch of other kids for a little while before we head home and eat and wind down.  The place is usually manned by a couple people watching over the little tykes.  In truth, I’ve never had any sort of problem with them.

The deal is, if Jake decides to off-shore a load into his diaper, someone from the Kid’s Club comes and lets me know.  No problem.  I hop off the machine I’m working out on, run in to change up his filthy drawers and go back to what I was doing.  No fuss, no muss.  Usually.

Today, while on the treadmill, the woman who runs the Kid’s Club came over to me.  Immediately, upon seeing her approach, I thought: Uh-oh.  We’ve got a code brown.

Not this time.

I took my headphones off and paused my movie (Spiderman 3) and saw she had a sheepish look on her face.

“Yeah,” she said.  “Jake jumped into the toilet.”

I’m pretty sure I blinked twice before saying what any father given such news would say.

“What?”

“Yep.  He’s soaking wet.  We took off his socks, but his pants are pretty soaked.”

I was beyond upset.  “Fantastic,” I muttered as she walked back to likely not watch another kid make an excursion into the porcelain pool.  I wrapped up my stuff, and hopped off just a little bit angry with the world right about then.

Now, I know it’s not easy to watch all of the kids all of the time, but Jake is a scant year and six months old.  He’s an explorer and he’s curious about everything.  To me, I thought about the horrific things that could’ve happened to him while they weren’t looking.  He could’ve been bobbing for outhouse apples, he could’ve pulled the heavy lid off of the tank and conked himself on the head.  He could’ve slipped and fell on the wet floor in the bathroom.  All because they couldn’t do something as simple as keep the bathroom door closed…or you know, watch him.

As I came into the Kid’s Club, the first thing Travis said was: “Dad?  Do we have to go?”  I could see Travis’ little friend there (the one that makes him paper airplanes) and I knew he was already feeling slighted.  I could also tell by the look on his face that I had A LOOK on my face, too.  Dad was not happy.

“Yeah,” I said loudly.  “Jake jumped in the crapper.  We gotta go home.”

Jake was all smiles when I came in.  Whenever he sees me coming, he laughs and runs as fast as his little legs will carry him.  Today, even soaked, was no exception.

The Kid’s Club lady came up and I said: “So, um.  How exactly did this happen?”

“Well,” she explained.  “Two little girls were using the bathroom and Jake followed them in.  The next thing I know, he’s jumping in the toilet.”

For added effect, she threw in: “Not sure if the water was clean or…”

I shook my head, ready to explode.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Yeah, I don’t know.”

No apology, nothing.  Just an oh well attitude about the whole thing.

“I’m a little upset by this,” I said.  “I’m wondering how something like this could happen.”

“Yeah,” she explained, pointing to the door.  “We have to make sure and keep that door closed.”

You think???

“I just can’t believe no one saw him go in there,” I said. I was this close to saying: What were you two pukes doing while you WEREN’T watching him?

“It’s not a good thing, that’s for sure,” she said and walked away.

Not a good thing. Boy, that’s rich.

I decided it was time to leave before I detonated.  I scooped up my (urine soaked? water soaked?) kid and headed out, ready to become a human wrecking ball and knock the Kid’s Club down to cinders.  I wrapped Jake in a towel so as not to transfer the maybe-urine onto the car seat and got in.  I think I shook my head and muttered ‘unbelievable’ about 9,002 times.  As a song we all liked came on, I turned the music up.  The chorus is simple:

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…

I heard little, sodden Jake in the back singing along with his older brother.  He was all smiles, Travis was happy and suddenly, just like that…I was too.

Welcome to my world.  Never a dull moment.

Still…I’m going to raise some Cain with that Kid’s Club.  Believe that.

I won’t bore you with how tasty my breakfast was, just know that it was pretty much delicious.  Even the sub-par orange juice they serve at Sonic couldn’t ruin it.  Yes, my friends, it seemed my Saturday was off to a rollicking start.  As we left the Sonic Drive Thru, we decided to stop at Target to kill some time.  Amazingly, both boys were down with that idea.

Side note: In all fairness, Jake’s favorite word these days is “Yeah.”

Me: Jake do you want to have some milk?

Jake: Yeah.

Me: Want a garbage sandwich for lunch with a side of rotten cheese?

Jake: Yeah.

You see what I mean.

Anyway, we’re rolling through Target and looking at the values displayed for the world to see.  I had to, on several occasions, tell Travis that “No, we don’t need to get a dinosaur that squirts water of out his eyes.  We HAVE dinosaurs at our house.”

“Not the eye-squirting kind,” he responded.

Well played, Son.

Jake was mostly well-behaved too, which I’m thankful for.  His only vices whilst at stores these days is grabbing stuff off of the shelves and trying to stand up in the cart.  No flimsy shopping cart seat belt can contain this kid.  If he wants to stand up…he stands up.

Anyway, we only had a few things we found that were worth getting and we made our way to the lines.  As we reach the front of the line, Travis announces:

“Dad, I have to go to the bathroom.”

There’s the moment of pause when I think: We could totally make it home.  We’re only like 10 minutes away.  If we hurry and I drive like I do the ambulance, we’re golden.  Besides…we’re at the FRONT of the line…

Then I remember that Travis is 5 1/2 years old and still hasn’t mastered the Iron Bladder skills of his father. (me)

I turn and realize I’m boxed in.  I nod to the lady standing behind me and beg her forgiveness.  I explain that we’re having a bathroom red alert.  She nods as if she knows what I’m talking about and backs her cart, laden with fairly priced merchandise,  to let us out.  After a quick word of thanks, we’re tearing down the main aisle.  For some reason, the Target that we were at decided it was wise to keep the restroom in the far corner of the store, tucked into a hidden little alcove near the condoms in the pharmacy.  You know, not in front of the store where the rest of the nation’s Targets do.

We’re burning a trail for the commode and Travis is marveling at how fast we’re going.  Earlier he’d asked me to push the cart faster and I told him we shouldn’t.  “People could get hurt,” I said.

My kid doesn’t miss a trick.

“Dad, how come you’re going fast now?”

“Because I don’t want you to soak your shorts, dude,” I reply.

“But what about if we hit someone?”

“Keep it down, son,” I said as we reached our turn.

As we rolled to the hidden toilet, I exhaled deeply.  There, parked in front of the “Family Restroom,” was an abandoned cart with some Mr. Clean products and a box of trash bags.  Of course, by FAMILY restroom, it means single unit.  I reached for the handle and, as expected, it was locked.  I grumbled a few choice words inside my head and sort of listened to see if there was truly someone in there or if this was some sort of cruel joke.  I heard nothing.

“Dad,” Travis groaned.  “I really have to go!”

“Go!” Jake shouted and pointed to the aisle.  He started to try climbing out.

That’s the thing with Jake:  He’ll be all set when he’s old enough to go on rides at an amusement park.  He knows not to try and get up until the cart has completely stopped moving in a forward motion.

I tucked Jake’s legs back in and tried to think of what to do.  If someone was in there (downloading software) for a long time, we were hosed.  I also know Travis’ tolerance for stinky bathrooms.  Many a time have we waited to use a bathroom and if the odor is not to his standards, he’ll hold it until three days from now.

“We just have to wait a minute, buddy,” I said, looking around at the store as if the floor would light up and lead us to a magical bathroom somewhere else within the bowels of Target.

“But I really have to…”

“I know,” I said.  “Just wait a second.”

Now, I don’t know if the poor soul inside the bathroom heard us, but we suddenly heard the toilet flush.  I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking: Good.  Let’s wrap it up in there, friend.  I’ve got a kid with a full tank.

I remembered then why Laura usually has Travis go to the bathroom before we leave and change Jakey’s diaper for good measure.

We expected the door to open at any second.  It didn’t.

“What are they doing in there?” Travis groaned.  From within the cart, he was doing the gotta-go-fidget.  I was thinking we were in trouble.  The flush may have been just a courtesy and whoever was in there was in it for the long haul.  In my head, I cursed the toilet gods and wished an eternity of clogs upon them.

After a millennium, the door opened.

An old woman, easily in her 80′s, came out all smiles.  She probably wasn’t expecting a welcoming committee, but she seemed genuinely happy to see us.  I imagine it was probably like hopping off an airplane and a group of people are waiting to see you on the tarmac with signs and a marching band.  But, you know…different.

She saw me pulling Jake out of his seat and Travis hopping up and down on one foot.  The old lady said hi to Jake and when my youngest reached down to grab a fistful of his older brother’s hair, she said:

“Oh no, cutie.  Don’t pull your brother’s hair.”

Travis stood at the closed bathroom door, as if waiting for me to give him the go ahead.

“Go ahead, Trav,” I said.  “Let’s get in there and go.”

Travis opened the door and before the woman could even put her shriveled hands on the handle of her cart, my oldest shouted:

“Oh, man.  It’s STINKS in here!”

With my back to the woman who was one moment elated and (I’m sure) the next mortified, I stepped in already laughing.

“Let’s go,” I said.  “C’mon.”

“I can’t, Dad.  It smells like poop in here!”

By then, I had the good sense to close the door.  I’m sure this woman caught an earful and could just as easily hear the rest of what we were saying, but by then I didn’t care.  I didn’t want my kid to moisten his shorts for no reason.  I locked the door and had some convincing to do while holding my thick n’ meaty 1 1/2 year old.

“Just go, Travis,” I said.  “They don’t have another bathroom at this Target.”

Travis hesitated.

“Can you plug my nose?”

I blinked.  I imagined a world where it was impossible to keep a steady stream with only one hand.  I wasn’t sure what Travis needed to do with his free hand and I didn’t think it smart to ask or argue.  It sounded like he’d use the rank (and he’s right…it did stink) bathroom under this one condition.  All I had to do is pinch the kid’s nose.

“Fine,” I said and with my one free hand, I pinched his nostril’s shut.

With his pants around his ankles (he still hasn’t mastered the art of just lowering the front down a bit) Travis let fly with the urine.  He talked while he did, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying.  Jake, seeing what I was doing, reached over and pinched my nose shut.

“Noe,” he said, his word for nose. “Noe, noe…”

So there we were: Boy’s Morning at Target, each plugging each other’s nose while doing what needed to be done.  I sort of took a step back from myself (which I do more and more often lately) and I just had to laugh.

If the old lady was still outside the door, weeping into her assorted basket of values, I’m sure she thought all three of us were nuts.

In a way, I guess we sort of are.

Mushrooms?  Sure.
Beets? Okay.
Fish/fish sticks? Why not?
Assorted creamy white sauces and such? Pile it on.

Somewhere in grade-school, I think my taste buds developed, or in my case, over-developed.  Suddenly, stuff that I used to chow down on became sheer culinary torture for me.  I remember on one instance having tuna salad put in front of me and was told I had to eat it.  I got a whiff of it and it was all over for tuna.  Never again.

Cut later to a dark kitchen hours later and there I was, still sitting at the table in front of the stinky mass of pasta and garbage.  I thought to my young self:

I can’t even pass this under my nose, let alone chew it.

I think my parents thought I’d give in and shovel it down, but I didn’t.  Eventually, it was bed time and off I went.  I was relieved and not even a little bit upset that I was going to bed without supper.

It’s safe to say that my over-active sense of smell has A LOT to do with my eating habits both then and now.  I also think having a choice (somewhere around 5th or 6th grade) had a big part in that, too.  I simply wouldn’t and couldn’t eat something that, in my mind, sucked.  I wish I could say that my mom and dad were right and that I’d try a lot of new things, but I just don’t.  Heck, they told me I’d develop a taste of coffee and I think that stuff (again) smells awful and the taste?  Good lord.  It’s hot bean juice, people!  Gross.

But, being wired this way isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  Twice in the last couple of weeks, we’ve had dinner with friends.  On one occasion, my friend’s wife was worried about bringing a dish over to our house in fear of me not eating it or whatever.  While the TKT of yesteryear would’ve said: “Good, keep that @#%^ at home, then!”  The grown up “mature” me felt pretty awful.

Seriously?  People are worried about what I will and won’t eat?

The same thing happened this past Friday, too.  Some friends had us over for dinner and the hosts were worried about what to make for us.

Man, I’m the worst.  And the horrible part?  It’s like my reputation as a picky eater has spread like some sort of zombie outbreak! (sorry, I had to)  It’s like EVERYONE knows about my pathetic eating habits.

If there’s a point to all of this (and I swear there is), there’s some karma involved.  My mom, at some point in the past (during one of my many dinner-time stand-offs) warned me: “Just wait until you have kids.”

At the time, I laughed.

Yeah, right.  I wouldn’t make my kid eat something as rancid as beets (floating in nasty mahogany-colored water!) or force them to eat something that smells as rotten and nose-puckering as tuna-fish.  And cottage cheese?  Aren’t there curdles in cottage cheese???

WHO CAN EAT THIS STUFF?

Also, mushrooms are neither plant nor animal and are grown (typically) in feces.  Bon appetit!

Karma strikes: Many, many years later…my son Travis is born.  When he’s a toddler, he eats almost everything we put in front of him.  Now, at the ripe age of 5.5, he’s got a menu of stuff he’ll eat about as long as his hair (which is short, BTW).  He doesn’t eat hamburgers (what???), he plugs his nose when we go to Arby’s (whoa!), and he thinks vegetables are his mortal enemy.  Not just some vegetables…nearly ALL of them.  Eating dinner at our house (and at the houses of guests) is what many would consider…a nightmare.  If something is cooked a little too much, it’s ‘burnt’.  If there’s a crust, he won’t eat it.  He gets mad when his food falls apart as he’s eating it.

Well played, Mom.  You were right.  This picky eater thing?  It stinks.

So, I find myself in the odd position of trying new things in front of Travis.

An example: I’ve never had strawberry shortcake.  Yes.  I know.  I’m a mutant.

But, I figured the time was now.  At a friend’s house for dinner, that was the dessert of choice.  Even though it has one of the things on it (white creamy) that is like garlic to a vampire, I dug in.  It was (seriously, friends) absolutely delicious.  I felt like a door somewhere in my childhood had opened.  I posted an update about it on my dumb Facebook wall.  I wanted to share my “new” discovery with the rest of the world.  I turned to Travis to see if he wanted to try a bite.  It had fruit.  It had cake.  It had whipped cream.

Can’t fail, right?

“No,” Travis said.

I looked at the kid and I realized what I had unleashed unto the world.  To quote the “Cats in the Cradle” song:

My boy was just like me.

So, long story short?  I’m trying.  I really am.  Sure, I may still order the EXACT same thing whenever I got to a specific restaurant and I may never put another mushroom in my mouth for as long as I live, but I’m going to sort of give it my best.  It’s weird to be standing on the other side of this many years (almost 38, confound it) and look back at a mini-me of sorts who is likely much, much pickier than I could ever have been and realize that my parents were almost like prophets of some sort way back when.

The funny thing?  Jake, at 1.5 year old, is a virtual garbage disposal.  It’ll be interesting to see how long THAT lasts.

I give it a couple years.

The wait is over, friends of fine literature.

Here, just below a few more lines of my babbling, is the best story I could come up with in 1984 for the book fair at my old Catholic school.  I was 12 years old and in the 6th grade.  I’d written other stories before (STICK MAN AND HIS FIRST VOYAGE INTO THE BLACK HOLE, RIDDLE OF THE SPHINX) but this was me unleashing everything I had.

Or did I?

I seem to remember writing this, on a homemade desk my dad built into my closet.  It was kind of cool.  It folded up and was secured to the wall by a chain.  When I was ready to write, I’d unhook it, a leg on a hinge would unfold and viola…instant writer’s desk.  But if memory serves, I sat down and cranked this out in a night or two.  I remember as I was writing it not knowing WHAT THE HECK would happen next.  I just knew the heroes would emerge victorious.  What happened in between would just ‘magically’ write itself, right?  Right?

You be the judge.

Here, in all of its uncorrected glory (I left all typos and such intact for history’s sake) is my Dungeons & Dragon- inspired masterpiece (ahem.):

Treasure of the Enchanted Forest

By Tom Troupe (age 12)

Long ago in medieval times in the village of Kirak a meeting was being held.  All of the villagers from the village attended.  The chief advisor, Brundon was speaking.

“You are all here for a reason,” he began.  “Our supplies are short, and the kingdom of Dimon demands that if we want any food or supplies, they must get money in return.  Since we barely have enough to support us for a week or two, we must find treasure or gold pieces in order to get supplies.  So we shall pick someone to go on this quest.”

Then he pulled out a stiff folded paper.  “The name is Logan!” he shouted.  “Logan, please come forward.”

Logan walked toward the chief advisor.

“Logan will you go to look for treasure for your village?”

“I accept this mission, and if it does not bother you, I would very much like to bring Landon the Elf from the kingdom of Nitopa.”

“Yes by all means you may.  But I warn you: stay away from the Enchanted Forest, for the evil wizard, Zindor, guards treasures of unspeakable value there.”

Soon Logan packed his gear: a two-handed sword, a crossbow with 50 arrows, a mace, chainmail armour, shield and his magic black cape.  He also took a large sack to carry treasure in.  He then mounted his black horse and headed for Nitopa.

Shortly after leaving Nitopa, Logan decided to go to the Enchanted Forest, even though they were forbidden not to go there.  Logan thought if there was treasure of unspeakable value, his village deserved it.

At about sunset they reached the forest.  “Logan,” said Landon.  “we should camp here for the night.  We could search for treasure the next day.”

They set camp and soon fell asleep in the furs Landon brought.  The oak tree they slept under towered above them.  But then they didn’t realize they were sleeping on a trap door.  Logan rolled over and hit a small root jutting up from the ground.

Suddenly the ground they were sleeping on collapsed under them.  Logan woke just before they started descending underground.  Logan reached up and pulled the large sack they put their weapons in.  Now they were falling down a large black pit.  Suddenly, they hit the bottom and both lost consciousness.

When they awoke they found themselves in a lighted hallway.  Logan got up and helped Landon to his feet.  They took their weapons and looked around.

Then Logan pointed to the ceiling.  “Look up at the ceiling.  We fell through the small hole way up there.”

Then Landon yelled, “Hurry!! This place is collapsing.”

They searched for a doorway but found nothing except an old chain with a skeleton hanging on it.  Rocks and spider webs fell from the ceiling.  They both dodged the rocks.  “We’ve got to get out of here,” shouted Logan.

Logan and Landon raced to the wall with the chain and skeleton on it.  Smoke filled the room and the two warriors began to choke.  They pulled on the chain helplessly.

Then the sound of scraping stone filled the collapsing room.  A small round doorway appeared behind the skeleton.  Landon followed Logan past the skeleton and through the door-way.  Just as they entered, the whole ceiling of the collapsing room came down.

They continued down the small corridor until they got to a room with a lava pool in it.  The pool was as wide as the room itself.  The only way out was a rope at the other side of the pool leading to a cave about a hundred feet up.

“How are we supposed to get to the cave, Logan?” Landon asked.

Logan pulled out his crossbow, put in an arrow and said, “Do you have any rope?”

Landon handed Logan his long rope.  And Logan tied the rope to the arrow.  He aimed the crossbow towards the top of the cave and shot.  The arrow whizzed over the pit and hit its’ mark.  Logan pulled to make sure it was safe.  Then he started to climb up the rope until he got to the cave enterance.  He climbed in and signaled down to Landon to climb up.  Landon began to climb but halfway up the rope he fell down towards the pit.  Logan saw his friend fall and took his magic cap and threw it down to him.  The cape sped by and wrapped around Landon’s neck.

Then Landon and the cape floated up towards the cave enterance.  Logan pulled Landon in the cave and then put black cape back on.  Logan climbed through the cave with Landon close behind.

While Logan was walking he hit his foot on a rock, and tripped.  He landed on a smooth surface and discovered he had landed on a slide.  He slid down the slide faster and faster; vines were rushing overhead.  Rocks came loose and slid ahead of Logan.  Logan listened to hear for the rocks to hit the bottom.  He strained and heard a loud sizzling noise.  Logan thought there must be an acid pit or something down there.  Logan reached up to grab a vine.  His hand clung to a vine and stopped sliding.

“Landon!” he called.  His voice echoed through the tunnel.

“Yes?”  Landon replied.  “Logan are you okay?”

“Just fine.  Can you get me outta here?”

Landon threw his rope down to Logan.  Then Logan began to climb up the rope.  Finally he gets to the top and they continued through the cave.  They reached an opening at the end of the cave.  Then they both stepped in looking for any traps.  Logan noticed a piece of torn paper on the ground.  Carefully he picked it up.  Then he read what was on it.  It said:

THESE FOUR DOORS LEAD TO TREASURES UNTOLD

CHOOSE THE RIGHT ONE TO FIND THE SECRETS TOLD

Logan looked toward the corners of the room.  Four doors where in each corner.  All the doors where normal except an old moldy one to the left corner.  Logan walked over to the door and opened it.  Landon followed Logan through the doorway.  Logan found a rolled up piece of paper.  It said:

NOW ENTER THE MAGICAL HALLWAY.

They looked down the hallway.  It looked normal to them.  Logan shrugged his shoulders and went down the hallway to a dead end.

Suddenly the floor slanted towards a hole in the wall the two warriors slid down into a hole.  The slid to the end of the hole and ended up in a room full of bones and rags.  Then the floor goes back to its original spot.  A doorway directly in front of them had an inscription of a diamond on it.  Just then a red monster with bloody fangs came out from under a pile of bones.

It came after Landon but Logan hit it with his sword.  The monster down dead.  Landon then yelled “There is a key on the monster’s belt.”

Logan reached down and took the key off the dead monsters belt.

Logan walked toward to locked door and thrust the key into the lock.  The sound of scraping stone filled the room.  The door slid open.

Logan and Landon went through the door just as it closed.

The room they were in was dark and the odor of rotting bones filled the room.  Landon found a piece of wood and lit a torch.  The room lit up and they saw an altar with a diamond in the middle of it.  Logan approached the diamond and picked up.

Under the diamond was a scroll.  Logan put the diamond in his sack and picked up the scroll.  He unrolled it and read the words out loud.

“THE ONE WHO TAKES THE DIAMOND OF THE BONE

WILL REALEASE THE MONSTER OF STONE.”

Just then the altar crumbled, reavealing a pit.  Out of the pit came a monster made of rocks.  Logan remembered that rock monsters cannot be destroyed.  He ran past the rock monster and jumped over the pit.  Landon did the same and headed towards Logan.

Logan reached a wall with old curtains and rugs on it.  Logan took out his sword and slashed the rugs and old curtains off the wall.  Behind the rugs was a skeleton.  The skeleton came alive and attacked Logan.  It’s sword hit Logan’s shoulder and caused it to bleed.  Landon took out his sword and hit the skeleton in the legs.  The skeleton then fell to pieces.

The rock monster realized that the two warriors were behind him, and attacked Landon and Logan.  Logan took his mace and swung it skillfully at the monster.  Then the monster paused and crumbled into a small pile of rocks.  Logan stared in amazement at the pile.  Then he said, “C’mon let’s get outta here!”

They searched the room and found a ring in the floor.  Landon pulled at the ring and a door appeared.  Logan went in first with Landon close behind.  They went down a shaft to a room full of gold and heaps of treasure.  At the far end of the room was a huge rock chair with a pile of rags on it.  On the ceiling of the room was a crack with sun shining through it.

Landon ran over to a gold heap of swords, chalices, and bars.  He picked up a chalice and put it in his sack.  Almost instantly the rags on the chair glowed and an old man with a look of evil appeared.

It was Zindor the evil wizard of the Enchanted Forest.

Zindor mumbled some words and ten fireballs flew through the air.  Logan called to Landon.  “Get over here, behind my shield.”  The wizard then launched seven lightning bolts.

Two of the lightning bolts hit Logan’s shield causing it to split in half.

“Run for cover,” shouted Logan.  Landon and Logan ran, dodging fire balls and lightning bolts, to a pile of treasure.  From here they could see an acid pit behind Zindor’s chiar.  Logan and Landon made a plan.  Then Logan shouted; “Okay, ready?  Go!”

Landon raced to Zindor and wrestled him.  The evil wizard mumbled some strange words and his gray scaggly fingernails became steel and sharp as a razor.  Zindor lunged and swiped Landon’s arm.  His arm welled with pain and started to bleed heavily.  Landon pushed him close to the acid pit but couldn’t push him over the pit.  Zindor swiped again and slashed Landon’s chest.  This time he only scratched it.  Logan saw Landon suffer from his wounds and yelled; “Landon move out of the way!”

Landon heard him and moved.  The wizard launched two fireballs at Logan.  They hit him and he started aflame.  Logan took his mace and swung it several times over his head.  Soon it was twirling faster and fast.  Logan let go of it and the mace flew through the air and towards the wizard.

The wizard stared helplessly as the chain of the mace wrapped itself around his neck.  The wizard, surprised, walked backwards and fell into the acid pit.  His scream filled the room but ceased after a loud sizzling noise.

Logan still aflame, fell to the ground.  Landon rushed over to Logan and smothered the flames with his cloak.  Logan got up and looked around.  Landon was drying the blood from his arm.

“Landon,  you okay?”  Logan asked.

“Sure.  I’ll be fine,” Landon replied.

“Let’s get out of here,” Logan said.

The two collected huge of treasure, then searched for a way out.  Logan pulled on a chain and a door appeared and opened, reaveling the outdoors and the Enchanted Forest.

Logan grabbed his sack of treasure and left with Landon.  Just after they stepped outside, the door slid shut.  They turned around in surprise.  Smoke came from the cracks of the door.  Then flames began to start the door on fire.  Then the whole area began to start aflame.  Logan shouted; “Landon head for the horses!  Hurry!”

Logan and Landon ran to find the horses.  Flames seemed to burn the trees to the side and front of them.  One tree fell, roaring with flames.  Landon’s and Logan’s path was blocked Landon yelled: “How are we going to get over this treet?”

Logan threw Landon over the tree.  Then Logan made a running jump and made it over the tree.  Just after Logan jumped the tree, the tree exploded.  The horses were in view now and they raced to them.  They reached the horses with flames right behind them.  They jumped on the horses and headed out of the forest.  Trees fell in front of the horses but the horses jumped over them.

Soon they were out of the forest and the whole forest exploded in flames.  The village of Kirak was in view now and the horses scrambled to the scent of home.  As the two warriors arrived in the village, the chief advisor, Brundon, came over to them.

“Did you find any treasure Logan?” asked Brundon.

Logan opened his sack and Landon opened his.  Treasure poured out of the sacks, and the village people came out to celebrate and thank the two warriors.

And all was well in Kirak.

T.T.

1984 / 1985

———————————————————–

Now, I’m not sure why I put both 1984 and 1985 on there.  I almost wonder if I wrote part of it on New Year’s Eve and finished it the next day.  Who knows?  I just remember thinking, at the end of it:

I made this.  This was an idea in my head and now, in my awesome handwriting, it has become something with pages, awesome cover art and staples in it.  I could put this on a scale and weigh it!

All these years later, it’s still a bit of a rush.

Oh, what pray-tell am I teasing?

THIS!

The Greatest Story a 12 Year Old TKT Could Ever Tell

Because of it’s unbridled awesomeness, I’m going to unleash this magical and action-packed tale to the world within the next week.  But for now, just salivate over the awesome cover-art and imagine a world of adventure and excitement.  Wait for it, fair readers.

Dreams can come true.

Kind of a random thought/topic: I’ve had some people ask me in the past how the heck I’m able to stay productive and get so much stuff done.  I’ve also had people make snide comments when I mentioned going to a concert or a movie (god forbid!) every once in a while, wondering how I’m able to do it with a couple kids, a wife, three jobs, etc…etc…

Caffeine, right?

No.  I don’t drink caffeine.  Haven’t had any for about 4-5 years.  I lost count, actually.  In a world where (a lot of) writers talk about how they GOTTA have their coffee and chocolate, I…um, sort of don’t.

But that’s not why we’re here today.  I want to talk about motivation and I guess my way of doing things.  (Feel free to watch FutureSand if this is boring to you!)

The big secret (and I wish it were really more exciting, but here it) is: Make the most of the time you have.

Contrary to popular belief, I don’t shut myself into my basement office (the Nerdery) and keep my family out and away from me.  I really and truly wait until the rest of the family is in bed and mostly asleep before I position butt into chair and tap my way into a literary nirvana.  It’s that easy.  I guess it does help that I try to stay awake until I can barely keep my eyes open, but that’s taken years of practice, friends.  I actually (waaaay back in the day) used to force myself to stay up until 2-3 am every night and get up at a reasonable hour.  It didn’t matter if I had to work the next day or not.  I conditioned myself a bit to subsist on very little sleep.  Of course, I was drinking gallons of Diet Coke back then, too.  So, you know…balance.

Do I get distracted?  Oh, gosh yes.  There are books and DVDs and video games just screaming for me to take them off the shelf and fritter away hours of my time.  Some days I give in and take a much-deserved break.  Other times, I say: Nope.  This book is due in a few days.  Powering up to win the game is just gonna have to wait.

It’s not easy, since I due have a bit of an addictive personality.  (Hello cookies!)

But, the way it works out, I carve out a pretty decent slice of time for myself each night.  From about 9pm – 12:30am/1am, I’m working on something.  It might be a chapter.  It might be a revision.  It might be an (ahem) blog entry.  I try and do as much as I can stand (without sacrificing quality) and then it’s off to read or shoot bad guys or watch a movie.

I think one of the biggest motivators I have (and it’s a bit morbid) is this: I know there are only so many days left in my (or anyone’s!) life.  I guess I feel like it’s not enough to just sit and simply come home, eat, watch tv, play with the kids and go to sleep.  I’m not knocking people who do this, because if that’s what makes ‘em happy then so be it.  I just get this weird, guilty feeling (excess former-Catholic guilt?) in my gut that I’m spinning my wheels creatively and I NEED to do something.

Maybe it’s a writer thing.  Maybe I’m nuts.  Yeah.  Probably nuts.

Want to hear something even kookier?  Sometimes it’s not enough to be working on books that I’ve been contracted to write.  Sometimes I get done working on those projects and I start tinkering with novels that I have NO IDEA if they’ll ever see an editor’s desk or a publishing house. I’ll set deadlines in my head and tell myself: YOU HAVE TO GET THIS DONE BY THE END OF THE MONTH.  Even if I don’t really have to.  I used to add even more motivators to it.

Would you believe I used to say to myself: You can’t shave until you finish editing your book.  I’m serious.  There was a period where I was totally bearded.  Just ask my wife, Laura.  When we started dating, my face was covered in beardy goodness.  And let me tell you, if hurt like a mother to shave that thing off…when I was done editing, of course.  Rules are rules.

I’ll even take it a step further:  I often will beat myself up for setting up “writing goals” (see previous post) and not meeting my own self-set deadlines.  I’ll be honest.  I’m STUNNED that July is over half-over.  I’m sick with the idea that I haven’t been sending out query letters like I should be.  I’ve had some friends tell me that I’m lucky to be able to come up with stuff and find the time to write and all that.  And yes, I do think I’m lucky…but (and I hate to sound Spider-Man-ish about this) it’s actually a curse and a gift.

I’ve been writing books or making little films of some sort since I’ve been in the 2nd grade.  I don’t think there’s ever been a point in my life where I’ve said: Eh…this writing thing’s not for me.

Considering I’ll be 38 in a few months…

(oh good lord…38?)

Ahem.  Anyway, what I guess I’m trying to say is…I’m in it for the long haul.  If my “other” work never gets published and I’m an old(er) crusty(er) guy still hacking away on a keyboard, at least I’ll feel like I went out swinging…you know? I’m not sure I’m cut out to do anything else.  Also: Pretty sure I don’t want to.

So…like the fabled Dragon Scroll in Kung Fu Panda: The secret is you.  There is no special ingredient for noodle soup.  It’s all you, baby.  Every keystroke, every page.  It ain’t gonna write itself and there aren’t little literary gnomes who are wringing their tiny hands, watching from the shadows, waiting for you to abandon your work so they can finish it for you.

But dang.  It’d be cool if there were.

Skadoosh.

Hey!  How’s it going?

I’ve been good, good.  Thanks for asking.

As you may have surmised, I’ve been busy as all get-out these days.  No sooner did I finish up some books for Stone Arch, than I ended up working on a couple titles for Picture Window Books and then 2 more for Stone Arch again.  It’s been crazy.  It’s gotten to the point where I’m having trouble finding time to work on some of my side projects.

Yeah.  Those elusive side projects.

Oh, and sending query letters out?  I haven’t done much of that lately, either.  But that’s going to change.

It sort of has to.  I mean, it’s a rare thing to have an agent actually reach out and find YOU…although, that did happen and ultimately it didn’t work out.  But I digress.

Also: I’m rambling.

So, here’s the deal and sort of my game plan for the summer/rest of the year…you know, if you’re interested.

1. FINISH THE NEW JAKE MADDOX BOOKS – Did I mention that I was asked to write a couple more a month or so back?  Yep.  I was given a  couple more MG sports books in their huge series.  This time around, I got to tackle BMX and SKATEBOARDING.  I’ve sent drafts to my editor and heard back on one.  Just a few tweaks and the BMX one is good to go.  Love, love, love working with the good peeps at Stone Arch.  Seriously.  I hope this relationship we’ve got keeps on keepin’ on.

2. WRITE THE NEW 4 BOOKS IN THE ‘LEGEND’ SERIES – Just last few weeks (or so) I was asked to write 4 more books in the series I’ve got going with Picture Windows.  Remember the VAMPIRE, WEREWOLF, BIGFOOT, BERMUDA TRIANGLE series?  Of course you don’t.  Those bad-boys don’t come out until August.  But, that’s only the half of it.  They asked me to continue on this X-File-esqe non-fiction series with 4 new titles.  Check it: LOCH NESS MONSTER, UFOs, ATLANTIS, and…(wait for it) ZOMBIES.  I’m stoked.  So far I’ve got the research outline for LOCH NESS done.  Hoping to carve out UFOs in the next week.  Holler.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention how wickedly awesome Picture Windows Books has been to me.  These guys have been fantastic to work with and have KEPT. ME. BUSY.  If allowed, I would write for them until I’m old old and crusty.  Or, you know…crustier.

3. GET BACK TO WORK ON ‘LITTLE BROKEN WINGS’ - I started strong with my MG book for boys that could and I think I’ll be able to finish it this summer.  My original plan was to fast-draft it over June, but these new books fell in my lap and…yeah.  Not going to happen this month.  Regardless, I still really like the concept and I think it’s going to turn out pretty dang slick.

4. QUERY IT UP – An eye-opening realization hit me today.  I queried GOODHALO in 2008!  Dang!  That seems like forever ago.  Now, I’ve got ANNA 2.0 ready for prime time and I’ve been sort of skittish about sending it to people.  One of the things that is sort of eating at me is that ANNA 2.0 is sort of IRON MAN MEETS VERONICA MARS.  Sort of.  I wonder if agents and such might think I cobbled this thing together in the wake of Iron Man’s popularity.  I didn’t.  Truth be told, I wrote the thing almost 3 years ago, the fall before the original movie came out.  Granted, the comic book has been around forever, but whatevs.  It’s not the same.  In my humble opinion, it stands on its own.  Anyway…I’m going to get ANNA out into the world and see what happens.  I’ve got plenty else to work on while waiting for responses, methinks.

5. SUPER SECRET PROJECT – It’s been rattling around in my head for some time, but I’m going to take a crack at a contemporary YA book geared for dudes.  It’ll likely be darker and a bit more edgy than anything else I’ve written.  The title I’ve got for it (as of now) is NOTHING MUCH.  I’m going to probably write it in 1st person, too.  My plan is to write it without over-thinking the bejesus out of it.  Sometimes, I find myself sort of filtering myself when writing, worried that I’m going to offend or turn off potential publishing pardners.

6. PITCH LIKE THE WIND – I discovered that I’m allowed (and encouraged!) to pitch potential series ideas to the editors I’m working with.  I’m going to take a crack at this by summer’s end.  I’ve got some ideas, y’all.  I’m finding the ideas come pretty fast n’ furious for me, but it’s the time to actually execute all of my plans that seems to be a rare commodity.

7. GOODHALO III – Even if the rest of the world isn’t ready for G3, I feel like I need to write it…and soon.  It’s going to be a monster, so my plan is to make this my winter project.  Hopefully, I’ll emerge from the cold n’ snow with a big fat book tying up all the loose ends from the first 2 books.  Oh…what?  You didn’t know I wrote a sequel to a book that hasn’t been picked up?  I did…and it’s a monster.  GOODHALO II is dark, action-packed and was a blast to write.  I haven’t looked at it in a little over a year, but I will.  I know the Zombie Renaissance (as I call it) is in full effect, but am I crazy in noticing that there really isn’t a solid zombie series out there for boys?  I can’t help but feel like I must be missing something.

So, I’ve got lots to do and while I’m not making any promises, I’m hoping to do more on this ol’ blog.  It’ll happen.  Have some faith in a fella.

Until next time, wipe your nose and run a brush over those choppers, would you?  It’s time you learned to take care of yourself.

Your lovin’,

TKT

I do it for you.  I do it ALL for you.

Here come the nuggets.

BIGGEST LOSER – WOODBURY FIREFIGHTER EDITION

It’s old news for most, but I want to make it official since Facebook sort of swallows posts and updates and who knows where those things go.  Ahem.

I won.  I set a goal to get myself at 185 pounds and I weighed in at 184.5 on the final weigh in.  Pretty sweet.  I keep thinking back to ol’ Jim’s face (he’s the guy that started all this nonsense) when I said I wanted to lose around 30 pounds or so.  He didn’t think it was possible and quite frankly, neither did I.  Anyway.  Yay me.  I’m not a big of a chunk as I used to be.  The best part?  I’m still working at it and maintaining my weight which they say is hard.  So far, I’ve got it down to a science.

A simple tip?  Don’t skimp on the exercise.  You can even eat a little more irresponsibly as long as you exercise.  For real.  As an experiment, I ate 6 cookies (big ones) in one day and ended the day with a nice 90 minute workout.  Ended up losing a pound for the day.  Boo ya.

BOOKS, Y’ALL

I’m currently working on 3 (three!) books.  Two of them are for my pals at Stone Arch for their Jake Maddox MG Sports Series.  They’re coming along pretty well, but in truth not as easily as the first two I wrote.  I tore through the first two titles (due in Spring of 2011) but for some reason, these ones are being a little harder to wrap my arms around.  Despite this, I’m about half-way done with the BMX book and I’ve got a pretty good game plan for the Skateboarding one.

Outside of that, I’m working on a MG book tentatively titled LITTLE BROKEN WINGS (the name grows on me more and more each day) that is sort of for me.  I don’t want to say too much, but it’s based on a period during the summer when my little brother and I were kids.  I sort of ‘pitched’ it to my awesome critique partner (Triple S) and she seemed to think it had a bit of merit.  Can’t tell you what a shot in the arm (and a kick in the pants) that was to hear.  A lot of times I think that I have good ideas, but maybe ruin them with the execution of those ideas.  Maybe other writers go through this, especially those trying to find someone on the ‘inside’ to believe in their work.  Anyway, I’m hoping I don’t ruin this story by writing it.  I’m about 3 chapters in and I’m liking it so far.  It’s kind of different than anything else I’ve written.

No.  There are no zombies or armor-clad gymnasts in this one.

BLOG

I’m thinking of shirking off the name of this blog (TAPPITY TAPPITY) like a wet pair of pants.  The name has bugged me for a long time, especially hearing the words come out of my mouth.  So…in the coming weeks, there is going to be a poll to see what you (all 5?  6? of you) think would be a good name for this threadbare blog.  I might even make it a contest…or something.  If you’ve got suggestions, fire a comment into the box and I’ll see what’s what.  I gotta couple o’ ideas, but nothing that I’m completely in love with.  I don’t know.  TAPPITY TAPPITY sounds sorta…(wait for it) CRAPPITY CRAPPITY

*rim shot*

SCHOOL VISIT

I get to do an author school visit tomorrow.  I’m going to read a couple o’ books to around 90 kindergartners.  I seriously CANNOT WAIT.  Those little people crack me up.  I especially love the Q&A portion of the program.  Little 5-6 year olds don’t care about being an author.  They just need to tell me stuff.  “Did you know my dad has a trophy?”  “My brother plays with Bakugan.”  “I saw a dog throw up on the street yesterday.”

Priceless.

DUMB IDEA

I got to thinking today, which can be dangerous.  I sort of think it would be cool to do a road trip out to Detroit and do a photo-journal kind of thing.  I mean, the city is practically empty and there’s talk that they’re going to start leveling some of the buildings and stuff.  Knowing I’m not alone in thinking how fascinating that would be, I think of how awesome the pictures might end up.  Plus, it’d be cool to capture the ruins of a once thriving (albeit dangerous) city.  I don’t know.  Am I crazy?  Might it be dangerous?  After all, Dr. Claw (from Kentucky Fried Movie) doled out Detroit as punishment.

And finally, I’ll leave you with a short iPhone video of my kids.  This was shot in the hotel we stayed at, moments before hitting THE WATERPARK OF AMERICA, one of Travis’ favorite places:

MY KIDS ROCK

Is it me, or does it look like Travis took an elbow in the chops  toward the middle, there?  Like a big brother, he took it like a champ.

Until next time, party people!

Some of you might remember a few months back when I said I thought Twitter was dumb.  I might have even said, “Twitter is for people with nothing of real value to say” or even “Get a blog if you want to tell us about your life.”  That kind of thing.  Of course, this is coming from the dude who had a pretty sweet website built for him, complete with blog and he, um…rarely blogs anymore.

Yeah.  Hi.  That’s me.  *raises hand*

Well, I’m here to recant my previous statement and tell you that, ahem…I think this Twitter thing is actually pretty dang sweet.  Yes, I will eat my words.  Won’t be the first time, and likely won’t be the last.

Why the change o’ heart?  Gosh, I’m glad you asked.

You see, about a year or so ago, I opened my Twitter account.  I saw that people were jumping on the bandwagon with both feet and mostly out of curiosity, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.  I learned how to follow people (mostly celebrities and such) and a couple of friends and I thought: Eh…it’s all right. Then I sort of noticed a trend.  People were posting like 800 “Tweets” in a row (looking at you, Roger Ebert!) and I sort of felt like: Really?  Aren’t you sort of defeating the 140 character limit?  Shouldn’t you get yourself a bloggy blog? (Turns out Ebert has a blog too.  Good on ya, Rog.)

Then I noticed that it was sort of becoming a place for people to put my FAVORITE (sarcasm) types of updates: I’m hungry.  I’m bored.  This song is my favorite…etc, etc… I was thinking to myself: This is the biggest colossal waste of space ever.  Twitter is dumb.  People who Tweet are dumb!  People who spend night after night on Twitter are well…dumb!

I noticed that my favorite band in the world was on Twitter and they also thought it was dumb.  They said, and I quote:

4/24/2009- NO TWITTER FOR EELS:
EELS have abandoned their Twitter account. “The only tweeting I wanna hear is in my backyard. This s— is not for us,” says EELS leader E.

I wanted to take a similar stand.  I decided to shut mine down and just be done with it.  As I was searching for the way to closer ‘er on down, I saw a Tweet from Mandy Hubbard, YA author and newly minted agent.  She said that Stone Arch Books was looking for authors to write ghostly, sports, or romance books.  All one had to do was Direct Message them and someone would be in touch.

My Twitter account dodged a bullet.  I Direct Messaged the Stone Arch peeps, and after some back and forth message (or is that Tweeting?) I sent some pages of my MG work to them.  Before long, I was asked to write 2 fiction books on sports.  Just like that.  To say I was thrilled would be an understatement.  Sure I’ve never been much of a sports guy, but I loved the challenge of writing outside of my comfort zone.  And hey, let’s face it.  I wrote a non-fiction book on ballerinas, for cryin’ out loud.  Sports?  I could do this.

Then, I discovered that lots and lots of publishers, authors (both published and hopeful) and agents were haunting the halls of Twitter.  I began following all sorts of these folks to see what they had to say.  I learned about #hashtags and how to follow topics that are helpful.  I followed and un-followed director Kevin Smith (too many Tweets Kev, sorry).

And most recently?  I’ve managed to meet a wise-beyond-her-years agent intern by the name of Cassandra Marshall, who has been a godsend for writers who have questions about query letters and agent stuff in general.  We sort of started talking about (of all things) Selena Gomez and her song “Naturally”.

Yeah…long story.

Eventually, we got around to talking about queries and how many query letters she gets about vampires, werewolves, etc.  I had to ask about zombies (of course!) and she said she’s seen piles of those, too.  So much for that.  But…in a super cool move, she offered to look at my query for GOODHALO.  I sent it and she asked to see the first 10 pages.  Anyway, I won’t bore you with the details, but thanks to the power of Twitter, I’m meeting folks and introducing them to my work in ways I never thought possible.

And to think there are agents out there who STILL (still!) insist on getting a query letter through the mail.  For shame, old-timers.  For shame.

So yes, Party People.  Twitter has won me over.  While I don’t have a TON of followers and less than 500 tweets under my belt, I’m hanging in there.

LESSON LEARNED: Twitter is a great networking tool.  Also: it has gotten me work and might just snag me an agent…somehow.

Oh…what’s that?  You’d like to follow me on Twitter?  Well, sure.  You can do that.  I’m at: http://twitter.com/tktroupe.  My mind-blowing updates also show up waaay at the bottom of my web pages, too.  If you’re reading this on www.thomaskingsleytroupe.com (which you should, it’s so pretty) you’ll see my um…Tweets in that black bar down there.

No, over to the right.  Yes.  Right there.  Good work, cap’n.

And for all of you writer-types out there, here are a couple must-follows:

colleenlindsay – Agent extraordinaire who also is the founder of:

#askagent – Which is a once monthly forum where folks can ask questions about agenty-stuff.  Just not query letters.  For that, go to:

#queries – This thread will get you an answer pretty dang quick.  You can also hear what other writer peeps are going through, query-wise.  Also, it’s a place where some of the agent interns comment on the stuff they’re seeing in the ‘slush pile.’  Folks like:

thatwemightfly – Which is the aforementioned Twitter pal o’ mine, Cassandra Marshall.  She’s gonna make a heckuva agent someday.  Believe that.  She’s one of, if not THE, founder of:

#askintern – Want to ask a question of someone who’s in the slush pile trenches?  Line yourself up with this hashtag and you’ll be all the wiser.

Of course, you should also follow:

hroot – Who is Holly Root, one of the nicest agents I’ve ever queried in my travels.
courtney_s – Who is Courtney Summers, easily one of the most talented YA authors out there.
mandyhubbard – Aforementioned YA author and agent du jour.
NathanBransford - All around good guy, agent and author.  Dude’s got lots o’ advice for new authors and writer wannabes.
stonearchbooks - A great publishing house to work with!

Anyway, follow some of these folks and you’ll easily find more and more peeps to follow and learn from.  I’m sure someone is going to feel slighted, but again…this is coming from the guy who was going to 86 his account about 6 months ago.

Cut a fella some slack.

Okay, so here’s the part where I come right out and say I’m not an expert on losing weight.  Results may vary.  Don’t try this at home.  Tip your wait staff.

Most of my friends and family know that I signed up for a weight loss contest at my fire department.  A fellow fire fighter (let’s call him Jim since that’s his name) kind of noticed that the folks at the mighty 2260 station in Woodbury, MN were getting a little soft.  We’d all just come out of the holiday season and he thought it might be interesting for us to all compete in a Firefighter Biggest Loser competition.  It wasn’t going to be anything nearly elaborate as the 2 hour (!) TV show, but we’d simply go for 13 weeks, weigh in during our weekly Tuesday night drill and see how we’d do.

I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t need to lose some weight.  I yo-yo like there’s no one’s business and folks…I was really starting to pudge out.

Jim announced that we were going to each throw in $20, and there would be a prize for 1st, 2nd and 3rd place.  He also said we’d start in two weeks.  All but 2 of us at the station signed up for this thing.  That’s like 18 dudes and one woman from the department.

You might not know this about me, but I can be a bit competitive.  The weird thing?  I’m selective about being competitive.  Beat me at tennis, no big deal.  Make me cry over a game of Scrabble, fine.  But something like this?

I told a couple of the other dudes: “These clowns have no idea who they’re up against.”

So, I began to plan.

It was the end of December when Jim announced this contest.  I had plans for those two weeks before we started.  One weekend (otherwise known as New Years Weekend) my brothers in law and I built the bookshelves in my office.  I decided then and there that I was going to eat like a complete slob.  As much as I wanted and as often as I wanted.  Weight-wise, I was somewhere around 205 pounds.  Almost every meal I ate had bacon in it.  I ate burgers, pizza, bagel sandwiches, burritos, you name it.  Still hungry?  I had a Baconator at Wendy’s and washed it down with a half-chocolate/half-vanilla Frosty.  I was on a mission.

You see, I wanted to get as fat as I possibly could before our big weigh-in, but I also had another plan.  I wanted to get all of this crap that I was so fond of eating out of my system.  I figured if I overloaded on this garbage, I wouldn’t want to eat it anymore.  Simple, right?

It sort of was, but I can’t say this is the best plan for everyone.  Some people might not be able to stop.  I knew I wanted to win this thing and I needed to start big and end small.

CUT TO: TWO WEEKS LATER

INT. – FIRE STATION – TUESDAY NIGHT

We’re all lined up in the officer’s office, waiting to get weighed.  I walk in and I’m already talking the talk.  I’ve got a 6 inch Subway sandwich in my hand, a bottle of water and apple slices for my dinner.  People are already talking smack, so I join in.

“What’s up, fatties?” I say.

People are getting their starting totals and I’m stunned by how much some of these dudes weigh.  I guess I thought I was easily one of the heaviest, but isn’t that always how it is?  When you’ve been a chunky person for a good part of your life, you just assume you’re the fatty.  At least I always did.

I hop on the scale, careful to take my shoes off, remove my fire pager, phone, keys, etc.  In my head I can hear a drum roll and I’m just glad we don’t have to take our shirts off.  No one wants to see this mess.

I look down at the number: 216

I managed to pack on 11 extra pounds for the occasion.  I’m almost stunned.  Jim, who is the ring-leader, asks what I hope to lose in the 13 weeks.  I tell him I’m bad at math (which I am) and that I want to weigh around 185.  He sort of blinks and shakes his head.

“You want to try and lose over 30 pounds?”

I nod.  I have no idea if I can do it, but damned if I’m not going to try.  I don’t even care about the money.  I just want to win and prove that I can do it.  I want to show myself (and I guess anyone else who cares) that losing weight or fighting any sort of addiction is really just mind over matter.  Of course, I can’t speak for people with raging drug addictions or anything, but I’d venture that a good dose of willpower would go a long way toward anything.

One thing my wife will say about me is that I am a bit determined.  Almost 5 years ago, I was HOOKED like nobody’s business on caffeine.  Seriously…and I’ve never had a cup of coffee in my life.  I drank Coke, and then later, Diet Coke like it was going out of style.  It got so bad that I’d get raging headaches if I didn’t have a DC by 11:00am every morning.  It was a wake-up call for me.  I realized this stupid ‘drug’ was my master and I was a slave to it.  I decided then and there that I was done with caffeine and I quit cold turkey.  Done.

And yes…the first week was absolute hell, but I firmly believe that you can get by without it.  Yes.  You can.

Anyway…another topic for another day.

Here was my plan for losing 30+ pounds in 13 weeks.  You might be disappointed by how simplistic it is.  Sorry about this:

1. Get Exercise
2. Eat Better
3. Don’t Eat As Much
4. Don’t Give Up

That’s really it.  OF course it’s easier said than done.  Here’s how I did it.

1. GET EXERCISE – You hear this a lot.  Commercials tell you to ‘groove’ your body for 30 minutes.  I’m sorry, but in my case, 30 minutes isn’t enough.  I need to beat the crap out of myself to lose weight and that’s just what I did and continue to do.  My problem in the past?  I don’t like the monotonous drone of cardio machines, or even being in one place for too long.  I get antsy and I lose focus if my mind starts to drift.  I’ve always been this way and in the past, this is EXACTLY why my workouts have faded or fizzled out and I go back to my old routines.

I’m here to tell you brothers and sisters…there is a solution.

Now, I know times are tough and ‘this economy’ is a real bear, but you’ll need to invest a little bit.  For me, I went out and bought a portable DVD player.  You need to get the one that can fold open and become completely flat.  I learned the hard way a few years back when I tried to balance my DVD player on a treadmill.  It slipped, landed on the track and fired behind me, smashing into three unrepairable pieces.  Get one that’s designed to hang on your backseat to entertain your kids.  All you do it set it on the ledge on (most) cardio machines (typically built for magazines or books) and you’re golden.  Of course, you’ll also need some headphones.

Right now, some of you are saying: But Thomas, why not just watch the TVs they have at the club?

Hey, if you’re cool with watching sub-par programming and commercials during your workout, go for it.  I can’t do it.  I see an ad for prescription medicine or a stupid Ford spot and my heart rate drops like a clumsy kid’s ice cream cone.  Nah.  I need to watch a commercial free show or movie, preferably something with action and guns in it to get my blood pumping.  Best DVD to watch (ever) whilst working out?  Run Lola Run.  Fan-tastic.

So, how long do I work out for?  Well, that’s simple.  For me, watching TV shows on DVD works best.  The lengths are predictable and you can set your workout accordingly.  A TV show that’s an hour televised is typically 42-45 minutes long on DVD.  A show that’s 30 minutes, is roughly 22 minutes 30 seconds.  I makes sense, right?  So, I tend to slap in a 45 minute show, get my machine going and let ‘er rip.

You might be wondering: How do I know my workout is…um, working?  This isn’t rocket scientry…  If you’re not sweating or breathing hard, you need to step it up.  Adjust the incline on the machine.  Walk (or run) faster.  Get your heart pumping and stay with it.  I’m not going to lie: THE FIRST WEEK SUCKS.  If you can’t keep up with the speed, move it down a little.  I SAID A LITTLE!  The last thing you want to do is rationalize a reason to quit or to turn in.  Your beefy body is going to try and talk you out of continuing.  Seriously.  It’ll say things like: Ah, that’s good enough.  20 minutes is better than what you were doing before. Don’t listen to it.  Ease up a little or slow it down a bit, but don’t quit.  If you punched 45 minutes into the machine, by jove, you need to finish what you started.

So, I decided to go nuts.  I decided that for the first two weeks, I was going to:

- Workout 5 times a week.
- Watch 2 (45 minute) shows per workout.
- Switch up my machines.

One thing that you might’ve heard from workout nuts is that changing your routine is important.  It TOTALLY is.  If you only like to use a treadmill, you’re only going to lose so much weigh.  Sorry, that’s just how it is.  For me, I would watch one show on a treadmill, then I’d hop off (packing up my DVD player) and move to another machine and set up showtime there.  Sure it sucked.  Sure I thought about going home, but I needed to remember the goal.  I was going to win this stupid Biggest Loser contest if it killed me.  (well, not really)

So, that’s what I did.  I have an unhealthy tendency to buy lots of DVDs and most of them remain unwatched.  With my new workout plan, that was a thing of the past.  I was ripping new DVDs open left and right.  I watched Battlestar Galactica Season 2.5, Rescue Me Season 5, Heroes Season 2, Dexter Season 3, East Bound and Down Season 1, Fringe Season 1, Battlestar Galactica Season 3, etc…  It got to the point where I was anxious to see the next episode, it would sort of drive me to go work out.

Someone is bound to ask this, so I’ll address it: What about your kids?

As it happens, the club I go to (Gold’s Gym Woodbury) has a cool Kid’s Club.  There are all sorts of really great things for kids to play with, so Travis (5) and sometimes Jake (1) will go with me.  They get to play with a bunch of other kids and I get to beat the snot out of myself.  Awesome.  Also, it gives my wife some peace and quiet time to herself before the Troupe boys are back for the night.  Everyone wins.

Anyway…after one week of doing 1.5 hours I lost 8.5 pounds.  Bam.  I got accused of cheating and putting weights in my pockets during the initial weigh-in.  But nope, that’s not how I roll.

Week 2?  I lost another 8 pounds.  Just like that I was already halfway to my goal.

Once Week 3 rolled around, I decided I needed to also incorporate strength training.  So, I would alternate.  One day I would do my 1.5 hours of cardio, the next I would do 6-7 weight-type machines and then hop on and do 60 minutes of cardio.  It seemed to work.  While I didn’t drop big numbers over the next weeks, it was a steady decline.

2. EAT BETTER – Anyone who knows me knows I’m a picky eater.  I won’t go into it here, but I could write a book about it.  Seriously, it’s bad.  Also, I’m lazy about cooking.  If it takes too long, I won’t make it.  If there are more than a few ingredients, I won’t do it.  I don’t eat to be all fancy.  I eat to survive.  Also, I’m all about convenience…just like 85% of America.  Why do you think Drive-Thrus are so dang appealing???

So, I started from scratch.  I know what I liked to eat.  Here’s what I pick from on a day to day basis, for each meal.

BREAKFAST: Weight Control Quaker Oatmeal, Plain Cheerios, Special K Fruit N’ Yogurt, Skim Milk, 100 Calories Thomas English Muffins, Health Nut Bread, Smart Balance butter spread, Egg Beaters – Egg Whites, orange juice.

LUNCH: Progresso Light Soup, Subway 6 inch club or turkey (no cheese, oil, or ugh…mayo), apple slices instead of chips, Arby’s Medium Roast Beef sandwich (but have ‘em put it on wheat bread instead of the bun).

DINNER: Chipotle Chicken Bowl (no cheese, sour cream, guac or too much rice), chicken and broccoli, boneless chicken breasts cooked with canola oil, broccoli, mother shells (shell pasta, tomato sauce), turkey hotdogs wrapped in a whole grain torilla.

SNACKS: 100 calorie packs of Doritos, Cheetos, cookies, etc, Granny Smith Apples, pineapple, bananas, small amounts of peanuts, Swiss Miss 100 calorie fudgsicles, etc…

Obviously, this isn’t a COMPLETE list of the foods I eat, but there’s a theme.  I don’t eat much cheese, I stay away from creamy crap.  I drink water and skim milk.  If I have to have a soft drink, I go for Caffeine Free Diet Coke.

I think I’m lucky in that I don’t get bored eating the same thing over and over.  I really don’t care if I have soup every day for lunch.  I’m actually growing quite attached to it…  Who would’ve thought?  You might also notice that I don’t list salad as one of my choices.  I’m not big on salad.  I think they taste all right, but it’s too much work to prepare.  When you’re busy working out, feeding kids, working full-time, and writing books, who’s got time to cut up a bunch of cucumbers?  ANSWER: Not me.

The big thing?  Eat in moderation.  Which brings us to our next topic:

3. DON’T EAT AS MUCH – I used to think I had to eat until I was stuffed.  So, I did.  Almost every stinking meal.  Afterwards, I’d be mad at myself and I’d feel all uncomfortable and well…fat.  Before I started this stupid contest, I did an online thing to figure out how many calories I needed in the day.  It was somewhere around 2,300, I think.  I began to look at labels on foods and figure out how much I wanted to eat.  To me, 2,300 seemed like a lot for one dude.  Then I looked at how many calories are in a double cheeseburger at Dairy Queen (delicious) and I almost had a heart attack.  It’s something like 900 calories.

I started to see the error of my old ways.

So, I started rationing out my meals.  A bowl of cereal and couple pieces of (healthier) toast for breakfast.  Done.  An apple for a snack.  Bowl of soup totaling 160 calories for lunch.  I wouldn’t allow myself to eat a whole sleeve of crackers with it.  Only 1/3.  You see?  It’s the little things you don’t think about that kick you in the groin.  Cream on coffee, the rolls that come with a meal, fries, etc…  The occasional cookie here and there.

The hugest help in all this?  My wife, Laura.  I told her from the onset that it will probably suck to be married to me through this.  I know how easy it was in the past (while she was pregnant) to eat more meals than I needed to and in excess.  She gets it and has been great through it all.  It’s sort of a la carte at our house, but it has to be for now.  I think once I get to a comfortable pace and weight, I’ll be in maintenance mode and it’ll level out.  At least, that’s my hope!

Good lord…this post is getting out of hand.  Okay, final stretch.

4. DON’T GIVE UP – I know I’ve sort of painted myself as being completely iron-willed and steadfast.  Truth is?  I’m really not.  I’m not starving myself and I’m not eating like a monk.  I grant myself a cheat meal every week.  A no-holds barred, eat-whatever-you-want meal.  Jucy Lucy’s from Matt’s, a meat-lovers pizza from Papa Murphy’s, a filthy, greasy burger from SmashBurger, etc.  I can’t help it.  I still love eating crap, but I’ve come to realize I don’t need to make EVERY meal a crap meal.  Here’s an eye-opener…when you make a cheat meal a special occasion?  It tastes THAT MUCH better.  For reals.

I’ve also slipped up, too.  After a night of tom-foolery and skull-duggery out with friends singing karaoke and what-not, I ended up going to White Castle at 2am.  That breaks a HUGE rule!  Don’t eat anything (much) after 6:3opm.  I woke up the next morning (not feeling good anyway) thinking I’d gained all my weight back.  The last thing you want to do is give up.  Seriously.  Think of all the work and time and energy you put into getting to that point.  To hang it up after a minor slip up is just crazy.  Dust yourself (and your gut) off and climb back onto the eliptical.  It’s not over until (some other) fat lady (or guy) sings.

Here’s a secret: I am a fiend for cookies.  I can even tell you where in the Twin Cities to get the absolute BEST Monster Cookie.  (Gingko’s Coffee Shop, Snelling Avenue)  It’s like Kryptonite to Superman.  I get weak.  I salivate.  I want to put many into my mouth.  And yes, I will occasionally go out of my way to get a delicious baked delight.  I’m not indestructible.  I have needs.  I need cookies.

But…even so, I try and show restraint.  I try and save that magical moment for CHEAT MEAL NIGHT.  I workout extra hard that night if I slip.  I eat less for other meals to make up for it.  Is this what an expert would do?  How the hell should I know?  I was just a fat guy trying to win a dumb contest.  I’m definitely not an expert.  I just know what’s working for me.

So…in a nutshell, this has been my plan and it’s been working for me.  I don’t FEEL like I’m on a diet or that I’m spending my life at the club.  I’m still a week away from finding out if I’ve won this thing.  I’m down around 30-something pounds, weighing in last at 185.4 (or something, depending on scale and amount of clothing).  I’ve taken the lead and haven’t given it up yet.  I think I’ve crushed a few spirits with the amount (and speed) of weight I’ve lost.  But…

People say they can see it in my face.
My clothes are more loose.
My wedding ring needs to be re-sized.
I don’t get back-aches nearly as often.
I’ve lost my mini man-boobs.
I definitely have more energy.
I don’t curse at seeing pictures of myself (as much).

Bottom line: You have to WANT TO lose the weight.  If you don’t think you can give up some of the things you’ve clung to or you don’t think you can get off your butt to go to the club (getting up is the hardest part), then you’re just not ready.  That’s cool.  I wasn’t ready until after I ate like a filthy slob and got it out of my system.  Just know that when the time is right and you’re tired of where you’re at, weight-wise, you can do it.  Seriously.  If I can do it, you can TOTALLY do this thing.

(Dang, I should be a motivational speaker)