A writers work is never done

I have started on a new project in hopes of capturing a new audience. People between say, 10 to 17 years old. I know it is a stretch for a man my age trying to write for youngsters like them, but I have been a storyteller all my life and have had more than a little success making up yarns for kids.
When my friend Richard Reilly would invite me up to his home in the western part of the state, I would tell spooky stories to his kids in the evening. These were 10 through 15 year old's, and to keep them attentive for an hour or more listening to me contrive stories was no mean feat. If they wanted to, they could watch cable TV or play video games. I told my tales in a style reminiscent of old time radio programs like "Lights Out," or "Inner Sanctum" that had engrossed me when I was growing up. I hope this latest endeavor that uses my grand kids as models works the same way.
While writing this one which has a working title of " the Berger Kids Meet Spiny Funkle," I am still promoting my novel "Double Trouble on Corned Beef Row." I have entered Amazon.com's Breakout Novel contest, and set up a second book signing at "Greetings and Readings," a top flight local bookstore. The last one was a roaring success, and they are happy to have me back again. Additionally, I am coaching another old man (like me) who aspires to being an author and passing on some of my experiences. I tried to make clear that promoting one's work is by far the hardest thing for a self published author to do. This blog is proof of the pudding.

Golden Years? Who the HELL dreamed that up?

I talk to my sister, Donna, on the phone every Tuesday. Most of our conversations are about how we are both coping on a day-t0-day basis. I have to admit her life is more interesting than mine. She has three sons, two of them are close to her, all three have kids of various ages. The oldest has three: two are married, the third is going to community college. The middle son has two, a son who is married with one child, and a daughter in high school. The youngest is married with three kids: all under six years old. It is usually these latter grandchildren who dominate the conversation. I have one unmarried daughter who has no interest in children or old people. That includes me. I can understand why she has such an aversion to the elderly. She was dragged along on visits to a series of nursing homes where her grandmother (her mother's mother) was housed after she fell and broke her hip. This woman was never going to win Grandmother of the Year. She was the most demanding and selfish woman I ever met. To make matters worse, she didn't talk, she screeched! Her voice grated on you like fingernails on a chalkboard. She did nothing to rehabilitate after her accident but complain about everything. She had complained about everything all of her life. It was a constant gripe session. No wonder the girl hated being around her. I did, too, but had to bite my tongue for my wife's sake. Now, I, too, am old. At 71, with not much to talk about except my writing, my shop projects (which do not interest my daughter), and my aches and pains, there is little to engender a desire to be around me. And besides, she live 40 miles from me. My golden years are severely tarnished. I have a mind full of marvelous things to do, but a body than won't let me do them. I had to give up my motorcycle, one of my greatest joys about a year ago, and I miss it. When I lost it, I not only lost a means of transportation, I lost the freedom and exhilaration that came with riding it. There is no other way to put it: getting old sucks. If I could catch the person who came up with the notion of Golden Years, I would rip out their tongue and beat them over the head with it.

Things that get you down

I have decided I am not going to watch the TV news anymore. It is too depressing. They only put on the bad stuff: tornadoes, hurricanes, tsunamis, earthquakes, fires, floods, etc.. They never put on anything uplifting. Where I live, one channel has a newscast that runs for three hours every evening. I only watch until the weather forecast comes on because every half hour they begin again with their sensational story that everyone is talking about at the moment and re-hash it in the next segment. It is all downers. They rarely, if ever, put on the story about the local kid who struggled to get the time to study because he had to help support his family yet made it into college on an academic scholarship, or the EMT or fireman who was awarded a promotion for exceptional service. Nor do they tell of the cop who got a gang to turn to basketball or baseball instead of drugs and juvenile delinquency. People need to hear these kinds of stories, too! They need to tell us of the lady who volunteered after her job to teach children to read, and about the teacher who has inspired thirty former students to pursue careers in engineering instead of dropping out, and how they honored him with a scholarship in his honor. When they start broadcasting more of this kind of news, they will get me back.

Starting over

Here I am at the beginning of another writing project. As if the creation of my first book wasn't enough grief, I am now trying to produce one using my wife's grandkids as models. Fortunately, they are good models. Each of them has an interesting personality and traits that translate well into a story. They are of the correct age for a novel about youngsters and old enough to be able to do some interesting things as a group. Like some of the stories that have gone before such as the Hardy Boys or the Nancy Drew mysteries, their characters give a good mix that enables the plot to have multiple twists and turns. I describe one as brave, another as musically talented, the third as artistic, and one as athletic. Together, they have the makings of a team that has just the right mix of talents and skills to do the things outlined in the plot. I am not letting them know that they are being incorporated into the story until I had finished it. I want them to see themselves the way I see them. I hope that this has the desired effect. I love all of them, and I love the two new ones who are too young to be incorporated as they are only two and newborn. Maybe, if I live long enough, I'll write about them, too. Thanks to the experience gained with writing Double Trouble on Corned Beef Row, this one should be easier.

Barely Old Enough To Remember

I remember the day Pearl Harbor was bombed. I was only three at the time, but I still remember my mother kept saying, "O my God!" over and over, the look on her face, and asking her "Mommy, what's wrong?" She said, "The Japs just bombed Pearl Harbor." I didn't know what a Jap was or where Pearl Harbor was or why it made my mother so upset, but I learned as I grew older and saw the newsreels in the Linwood Theater across from where we lived on Hudson Street, and saw the war movies that came out showing our troops fighting. And mostly I remember because my Daddy had to go away and get wounded on Iwo Jima. Yes, sadly, I remember. I remember the blackouts, the rationing, Grandmom Schunck saving our cooking grease in a can so it could go into the war effort to be used as a lubricant. I remember the war bond drives, savings stamps, recruiting posters, "Loose lips sink ships" and a lot of other things I would rather not. My sister, Donna, was only six weeks old when it happened, and everyone was already torn up because Grandpop Schunck was in bed paralyzed with a stroke and would die shortly thereafter. Yes, I remember. It was a terrible time, and we have lived with the aftermath all of our lives. It was not until the war was over that the truth about the atrocities committed by the Axis Powers came to full light. The concentration camps, the gassing ovens, the death marches, the true evil and brutality that took place finally showed how much inhumanity could be committed in the name of nationalism. None of us should ever forget or let it happen again.

The Saga Continues

Good things come to those who work hard to get them. For months now, I have been blowing my own horn to get publicity for my book, "Double Trouble on Corned Beef Row", and attract national attention. I still haven't had complete success, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The Baltimore Jewish Times is doing another piece about the book. I don't know what form it is going to take, but if it is in the form of a review, I will be able to post it on Amazon.com's and Barnes and Noble's web sites. The person who was coming out to take my picture didn't know. It is, also, possible that the review will be reprinted in other versions of the Jewish Times in other cities. That would be a coup. The second good thing is that I am going to do a book signing at Greetings and Readings in Hunt Valley, Maryland on December 12 which will give me the chance to sell off a good batch before the Holidays end. Hopefully, this added attention will give me the boost I need to get into the next recognition level. I hope, I hope, I hope!

I can't believe it is over

At long last the big book signing event is over, and I could not be more pleased. It was really neat to have Attman's Delicatessen make up a special sandwich that emulated the one in my book, Double Trouble on Corned Beef Row. Attman's is the oldest surviving remnant of that area of Baltimore's Lombard Street Jewish enclave. Marc Attman, the third generation owner, graciously allowed me to put his store's facade on the coverof the book, then promoted the book with the signing. There was an amazing amount of support by the whole Attman family, many of whom showed up for the event. Elaine Gershberg, who coordinated the affair, is sweet little pixie who apparently can work miracles. She kept everything on track and kept me advised about all of the details. A reporter for the Baltimore Examiner,Tamar Fleishman did a story on the sandwich and the book that appeared the following day.
I had some surprise visitors show who bolstered my state of euphoria. Two of my cousins, Frank and Skip Stovel and their wives, whom I had not seen in nearly two years, and long time friends JoAnn and Wayne Geisbert and their son showed up unexpectedly,as did JoAnn's brother, George Swope. To say that the evening was a success is to understate it. It was one of the events I will never forget. As always, my Darling Judy and our beloved Paul backed me up in every aspect of the evening. Altogether, it was a resounding success, and now everything is anti-climax. Oh, well! On to the next triumph, I hope!