Write Now

I just nominated some of my favorite bloggers for Book Blogger Appreciation Week. There are lots of categories so check it out and nominate a few of your favorite bloggers if you get the chance.

Speaking of favorite bloggers, Janna and Natasha and Melanie all did this little writer questionnaire, so now I'm taking a turn.

A Writers Meme

What was the last thing you wrote?
A new scene for Plundered Booty involving a prostitute, a bunch of car salesmen, and a tarnished televangelist turned talk show host.

Was it any good?
I just hope it's funny.

Write poetry?
nope unless you count the goofy song lyrics I create and sing to torture my wife and kids.

Angsty poetry?
No I prefer to drown my sorrows and angst in rum

Favorite genre of writing?
To read or write? I'll say humor.

Most fun character you ever wrote?
Gotta be Junior Habershaw, the antagonist in Plundered Booty

Most annoying character you ever wrote?
Tristan, a wimpy environmentalist from Waiting On The River. I cut all but a mention him in the rewrites.

Best plot you ever wrote?
Waiting On The River. A romance novel involving a pro poker player whose wife dies in childbirth and Lindsay, a former long distance runner who has spent her life running from the abortion she had in high school.

Coolest plot twist you ever wrote?
The one I'm working on for Plundered Booty involving the earlier mentioned hooker and tainted televangelist with a TV show. I'd actually like to pitch the show idea. If only I knew how to go about that.

How often do you get writer’s block?
Life block is what gets me. I always have more to write than I have time to write.

How do you fix it?
Stay up late and get up early. Or sneak away at work while the boss isn't looking.

Write fan fiction?
No. I have my own characters to bring to life. That's is my favorite part of writing so no way am I going to build on already established characters.

Do you type or write by hand?
Both, but my best work comes when I do it by hand. Ooh. that just sounds wrong.

Do you save everything you write?
ALWAYS. Even if I cut it it goes into a scrap folder and I sometimes pull things out of there for later projects.

Do you ever go back to an idea long after you abandoned it?
Yep, I'm a clinger. Usually it's not the idea I tire of as much as it is the realization I'm not good enough to pull off the story. As I improve I like to go back and see if I can now get it to work.

What’s your favorite thing you have ever written?
As far as the published stuff, I'm going to say my short story, The Simplest of Sounds appeared in Underground Voices back in November of 07. The link is still active if you haven't read it.

What’s everyone else’s favorite thing you’ve written?
Most people seem to think PLundered Booty is my best but Waiting On The River has gotten the most attention from agents.

Do you show people your work?
My crit group along with a few beta readers.

Did you ever write a novel?
4 complete and four others in various stages of disrepair.

Have you ever written fantasy, sci-fi, or horror?
Nope, but if I go back and look at my early stuff it does scare me.

Ever written romance or teen angsty drama?
No teen drama, but I have written two romance novels and my head is full of ideas for many more.

How many writing projects are you working on right now?
Three. Querying for Waiting On The River. Rewriting Plundered Booty, and creating my Feedstore Chronicle Memoir.

Do you want to write for a living?
Damn right!

Have you ever won an award for writing?
Quite a few. Both for short stories and novel length, but I tend to think most contest victories are meaningless in the grand scheme of getting published.

Ever written something in script or play format?
Tried but failed.

What character you've written most resembles yourself?
The Feedstore Chronicles are about my life so me. Other than that maybe Dillon in UnLuckLess.

Where do you get the ideas for your characters?
From the same place I get my oxygen. The world around me.

Do you ever write based on dreams?
I guess so, because I've dreamed entire scenes. I nearly always dream of the characters I'm currently writing. Gets complicated when you have multiple projects going on.

Do you favor happy endings, sad endings or cliff hangers?
No cliffhangers. You have to resolve the story. It's okay to lay groundwork for a sequel but you can't leave a reader hanging. Happy or sad depends on the story and genre.

Have you ever written based on an artwork you’ve seen?
No, but I want to write a novel based on a song. Just not sure if that is legal or not. Anybody know?

Are you concerned with spelling and grammar as you write?
Come on, You've read this blog. It's pretty clear no is the answer. I write first second and third. and then edit.

Ever written anything entirely in chatspeak (How r u)?
I hate chatspeak and those stupid cheeseburger cats that use it as well.

Are people surprised and confused when they find out you write well?
Yeah. As one of my friends once said, "Hell by looking at you I'd never guess you could read, much less write."

Quote something you’ve written. The first thing to pop in your mind.

A bit of dialogue from Plundered Booty ...

"Think those are real?" Dave whispered.

"Who cares," Rex answered. "Half the lakes around here are man-made. That doesn't mean I don't wanna fish their waters. " His eyes remained glued on the swish of Eva's short skirt.

Man Detergent

"Smell my face."

That's an odd command anytime, but when it comes from an 8 year old boy there is extra cause for concern. I'd just picked up my boys from my mom's house when T the oldest made that very statement.

Needless to say I declined, but he insisted. "Come on Dad. Just smell my face."
"Why?" "Because Meme bought me some man detergent at Wal-Mart."
"Some what?"
"Man detergent," he said with a bit of extra bravado to his voice.
"What is man detergent?" I asked.

Now before I go on let me say that T has always been a bit girl crazy. He got in trouble numerous times in preschool for kissing one particular school. When I told him he couldn't kiss girls at school he said it was okay because she wanted him to. Then in Kindergarten he got in trouble again for kissing this time a first grader. Once again I lit into him about kissing girls particularly at school. His answer. We went out in the field so we weren't really at school. Over the years we have gotten his lips under control but he has proposed to three different girls all at least 8 years older than him.

Yes I fear what will happen once puberty really strikes, but back to my question of what man detergent is.

"You know Dad. Like perfume for boys. The stuff that smells good. Meme bought me some and it's going to drive the girls WILD. Now please smell my face."

I wish you could have heard the excitement in his voice when he uttered the word wild.

"It's called cologne not man detergent," I explained. "And you can't wear it to school when it starts."
"Why not?"

At this point he dug in a Wal-Mart bag and produced a bottle of Gillette After Shave Lotion for Sensitive Skin.


I hid my smile. Here T thought he had Love Potion #9, when in actually he had little more than liquid deodorant. But at 8 that was about all he needed so I said, "Okay let me smell."
He proudly jutted out his chin.

"Yep, I said. "That will drive them wild alright."

At this point my youngest, Z, who is 6 chimed in. "Let me smell."

Now Z would rather eat worm dirt than get caught so much as talking to a girl. He's also a world-class trash talker who spends a lot of free time attacking his older brother with both verbal and physical barbs.

Z took one whiff, leaned back and said, "Now your face smells like Dad's armpits."

Somehow, I kept from laughing out loud.

Blood Sucking Fat Guys in Corduroy

Can't believe I have posted since last Tuesday. The good news is I've been busy writing and querying. I've changed the name of my novel A River Without Water to Waiting On The River. I also revamped my query and have been sending it out while I revise Plundered Booty.

The two novels are vastly different, one is a romance and the other an absurd comedy but I enjoy writing different things. One of these days when I finally break in I'll concentrate on building my name in one genre and style but until then I'll keep writing and telling the stories that come to mind. Waiting on the River has gained some interest from several agents so I'm hoping it finds some legs.

It's been hotter than the thighs of a fat dude wearing corduroy here in the Texas Panhandle, so I've also been watching more TV than usual.

Any of you ever watch the HBO series True Blood?

My wife pointed out something as we watched the other night. Unlike Edward's ilk in Twilight, the vampire's of True Blood cannot be exposed to sunlight, yet Bill had a definite tan line around his bare butt. I hadn't noticed, but leave it to my wife to scrutinize Bill's buns with great intensity. Truth be told, I think she'd rather have a look at the fella that plays Edward. Of course Johnny Depp would be even better.

Speaking of vampires, do they all have weak necks? If not why does every actor that portrays one tuck his chin down close to his chest and stare at menacingly beneath furrowed brows. Come on vampire dudes, raise your chins and stare menacingly straight at someone.

For the record, I haven't read any of the Twilight or Sookie Stackhouse novels, but I have seen the movie and the series, and my money would be on Ol' Bill to whoop Edward in an all out UFC style vampire brawl. Sure Edward climbs a tree like a squirrel on crack, but Bill wields a mean bar tap.

And Bill has the better side of things when it comes to lovers. Give me Sookie's sugary sweet southern drawl over Bella's uber-anxious whining any day.

But Twilight wins in the dietary category. I'd rather drain the blood of a deer, than suck down the dregs of some synthetic concoction from a bottle.

And Edward has a much cooler car. Bill doesn't even seem to own one. He's always forced to drive that goofy little yellow contraption of Sookie's.

I give it to both for getting rid of the old standard Transylvania accent. After all, Sesame Street's Count is the only one who can really pull that dialect off.

All in all I prefer to the vamps of True Blood, but to my way of thinking the HBO series Rome was the cable network's best effort to date. Yes, even better than The Sopranos.

Differing opinions?

Nobody Listens To Me ... Until It's Too Late

Unless this is your first time to visit my blog, you already know I have a strong aversion to veggies. Particularly green ones. If I've said it once I've said it a million times, LETTUCE IS THE DEVIL.


Go ahead snicker, laugh, say Travis is a crazy carnivore. My wife has done that very thing for years. She never heeded my warnings and very recently she paid the price for underestimating the evilness that lurks at the farmer's market. Of course me being the good guy I am, I along with some good ol' animal fat, did come to her rescue.

Let me set the scene.

Our good friends, Charlie and Cecelia were hosting a poll party. A fundraiser on behalf of the Catholic school where both My wife Jennifer and Cecelia teach. I volunteered to cook the meat (both chicken and beef fajitas) which turned out pretty danged good if I do say so myself. But I told them y'all will have to do the peppers and onions as I do not associate with such riff-raff.

Somewhere along the way the gals decided to also cook jalapeno poppers. They assigned Charlie the task of grilling the little green monsters, but first they had to prep them.

To do so my wife began scraping out the demon seeds and the guts of the jalapenos while Cecilia stuffed the hollowed innards with cream cheese and wrapped the whole shooting match in bacon. I contend it should be a crime to waste good bacon that way.



So they get the poppers finished, Charlie begins grilling them, while I mind my own business and happily grill meat.

Then it began.

THE JALAPENO HAND!

My wife washes her hand for the umpteenth time but her skin will not stop burning. The poisonous oil from the jalapeno had infiltrated her cell tissue and according to her it felt as if someone were holding an open flame to her skin.

She soaked her hand in milk.

No help.

Lime juice.

No relief.

Rubbing alcohol.

Still they burned.

Feel free to hum Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire as you read this.

The hours ticked by. The party raged on. Many bottles of wine and much beer was swallowed and still my wife hurt. Tears filled her eyes. Unshed tears but tears nonetheless.

Evening gave way to night. More booze was downed. The party-goers began surfing down the slide and doing back flips from the rock fountain. Despite inebriated swimmers doing less than intelligent stunts, my wife remained the only casualty. She sat poolside with her hands submerged in ice water. The devil's candy continued to burn five ... six ... seven hours after she'd last touched a jalapeno.

A quick trip to Google suggested toothpaste so we bid the party farewell and headed to Walgreen's. The Colgate was barely paid for when she began slathering it on her hands. The flames of hope sparkled in her eyes, but it was extinguished when the fiery pain burned on. The pharmacist said only time and repeated washing would help but it could take up to 36 hours for the capsaicin oil go away.

My wife's spirits sank. She feared there would be no sleep for her that night. At home I got in the computer and quickly learned that capsaicin pill has it's own silver bullet and wooden dagger.

I read that the oil was not water soluble, therefore a mere washing did nothing. But capsaicin is soluble by alcohol and fat. So I got out the cooking oil, which had the highest fat content of any liquid in our kitchen and some Vodka. Why Vodka? Well I didn't want to waste any rum.

So I poured the two together in a pan, the vodka and cooking oil and it made a nice clear thick liquid. I had my wife stick her mitts in, and ...

The pain immediately started to go away. The liquid quickly turned battleship gray and a tentative smile lifted the corners of Jennifer's lips. She rubbed her hands together a few times and then we dumped that batch and made a second just to get rid of the devil's juice.

She soaked her hands for fifteen minutes in that second batch and that was the last of the pain.

So despite what all the doctors say about salad being better for you than hamburgers, I single-handily proved that a meat eating carnivore, a heavy dose of fat, and a bit of Russian booze can defeat the leafy green evils of this world.

Yeah,, I'm tooting my own horn, but maybe, just maybe my wife will be now be a believer.

No need to thank me, but think of me the next time you eat a juicy hunk of meat. And if you plan to supper with Satan and his salad, please, for your sake, keep a ready supply of vodka at hand.

Viva La Amigos!

It feels somewhat strange not to be worrying about a My Town Monday post this Sunday. In case you missed the news, I have handed over the reins to the My Town Monday wagon to the ever-so-talented Clair Dickson. Clair has already improved the weekly meme and made it better by creating a blog devoted solely to it, aptly named My Town Monday.

The site looks great, so be sure to add it to your Google Reader or become a follower so you can keep up with all the great posts.

Speaking of great blogs, my friend Jennifer Archer has started a new one along with a friend. It is quite hilarious and if you doubt that just get a load of the blog's url and title.

The url? MenopauseMusing.com

And the blog title? Writing Without Periods

To steal the catchphrase of my fellow Husker fan and Good Ol' Boy Larry the Cable Guy ... that's funny, I don't care who you are.

Speaking of funny here's a random thought that hit me this weekend. Maybe Melanie Avila can explain this one. Why is any time you visit Mexico people tell you, Don't drink the water? And sure enough most of us do not. Why take the risk?

Yet, these same people will pay premium import prices to consume Mexican beers like Corona
and Dos Equis?

Does Mexico import the water they use for these beers? Does the alcohol simply kill off the dysentery causing microbes? Or maybe it's the little slice of lime everyone crams into those beers? Either way I'm not a fan of either beer. Give a good dark Shiner over either one. If a beer needs fruit, green fruit at that, to be good than I want no part of it.

But I could use some Mexican water right now to get me back on track. You see, it took me 10 weeks to drop 24 pounds. In the 4 days since my weigh-in I've gained five of that back. Oh well, I have had a good bit of fun these past four days.

Nevertheless, I'm going to be a good boy for a bit and try to get back down, but I fear without the threat of Barry Manilow to motivate me, I am doomed.


And like I said, don't forget to check out the brand new My Town Monday website.

It's official. I win! Coyote Bluff for supper tonight. There is a giant bacon cheeseburger, basket of cheese fries, and bucket of Shiner Bock waiting on me.

The Sweet Taste of Victory

This just may be my all-time favorite failblog post.

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see more Fail Blog

And keeping with today's theme, here is a shot of the shirts worn by employees of Rudy's Bar-B-Q.


Rudy's is a Texas based chain and if you ever go to one, try the smoked turkey.

Tomorrow my weight loss bet ends. As of typing this I've lost 24 pounds since making the wager back on April 15th. I hope to lose one more before tomorrow's weigh-in and make it an even 25. I'd like to think I'll keep this weight off, but I've missed many of my old friends chocolate donuts, Dr. Pepper, Rum. Especially the rum.

I never made the ultimate sacrifice and turned my back on meat, but I did cut back on the taters. Before the bet I was getting up there close to the three hundred pound plateau which is bad enough but would be even worse if I wasn't stacking on a large frame. Being 6'5" does help spread out the mass a might.

I'm 98% certain I have my friend and competitor, Arlene beaten. Which means I will not be donning a pink Barry Fanilow shirt and taking her to see the nerve wracking entertainer when our group of friends head to Vegas in October. It will be Jennifer and I's 12th anniversary and I hated the thought of having to listen to Copacabana as part of our celebratory weekend.

Being the victor, means Arlene will be purchasing my ticket, as well as accompanying me to see this ...

And diet be danged. I will most likely be sipping some sort of rum concoction while reaping my reward. Truthfully Arlene never stood a chance. Her husband Rob was pulling for me to win and made sure she ate well. I think the reason why are rather obvious. Yeah, I'm kind of devious.

But here's to winning wagers, tasty food, and good-natured friends.