[cb_profit_poster FlagFootball]Clinton, S.C., Friday, August 23, 2013, 10:08 a.m.
Sorry I missed everyone yesterday out there in Internet Land. It’s the modern equivalent of Radio Land, or TV Land, as in, “Hey, all you folks in Internet Land! How you been gettin’ along?” Oh, wait … since it’s the Internet, maybe it’s, “YOLO. So, like, Ima try to write err day. LOL. Nowumsayin?”
Normally I keep up a little better, but I spent most of the day and half the night in Greenville, where, in hindsight, I could have taken my laptop, and then I could’ve blogged from Barnes & Noble, as God intended.
Instead, all I had was my trusty iPhone, and it’s just too nettlesome to write a blog and post it from an itsy, bitsy technological wonder.
So, as I prepare for a night of local music (Jamlisco, at El Jalisco Mexican Restaurant, 1002 South Broad Street, Clinton, S.C, if Siri is keeping a scorecard on your belt) and a weekend of watching NASCAR on TV, here’s what went down in Greenville on Thursday.
I met with my valued book concierge, Rowe Copeland, in the Starbucks at Barnes & Noble. We talked about the next novel (The Intangibles) and the one (Crazy by Natural Causes) after that. We talked about writing, editing and publicizing. We do that every month. I drink coffee. She drinks tea.
This is the time where fiction overlaps. I’m trying to finish off the first draft of Crazy by Natural Causes – I’ve written two chapters this week, and there are 34 of them now – while, at the same time, starting the final push toward The Intangibles’ publication. This involves getting other writers to read it and offer what are called “blurbs” for the news releases and/or back cover. Soon shall arrive the pressurized, last-chance editing.
But enough of this mundane book stuff that is undoubtedly more compelling to me than to you.
Then I dropped by a locally owned bookstore, Fiction Addiction, to buy a book I’ve been wanting to read and to say hello the way we authors are prone to do when we have a book coming out soon. The book I bought is actually non-fiction, so it remains to be seen whether I develop a non-fiction addiction from Fiction Addiction.
Since I had some time to kill, I went to see a movie. Most of the times I see a movie in a theater, it’s animated and my grand-nephew (who is, of course, positively grand) is along. Usually, when I see another kind of movie, it’s just like Thursday and I wind up going not to the movie I really want to see but to the movie that’s about to start. This time it was “Paranoia,” with Liam Hemsworth, Gary Oldman, Amber Heard and Harrison Ford. Hemsworth was the bright, idealistic young technology geek who works for one bad guy (Oldman) and is sent to steal from the other (Ford), falls in love with the beautiful girl who can’t stand him at first other than she sleeps with him, and at the end, the bad guys, both billionaires, go to jail, which is realistic because that happens all the time in real life. Sorry. Spoiler alert. If you see the movie, I can’t imagine you not being able to see it coming.
Worth seeing, but nothing memorable.
It was hot when I arrived at the cineplex, so I left the windows in my car cracked about a half-inch. It apparently rained exceedingly hard while I was inside. I’m glad my books were in a plastic bag.
Next I drove out to Furman University to watch the Paladins practice football for about an hour. The stadium has been renovated. It’s lovely. Not only did I graduate from Furman, but several members of the current coaching staff are old friends. In an upset, while I was watching, Joe Davidson walked up. I’ve seen Joe once in the past 30 years. That was when Furman played at Pitt in 2004 (and lost in overtime). He lives in Pittsburgh but comes down to Greenville on business four or five times a year, he said.
What a surprise. That, and, of course, Small World. Those phrases are repeated in many languages when coincidences occur.
After practice, Joe and I chatted with Bruce Fowler, the head coach, assistants Tim Sorrells, his son Jordan (who was a second-generation Furman QB) and Jimmy Kiser, Paladin Club director Ken Pettus and Sports Information Director Hunter Reid.
I said “hey” to several others.
Then it was off to Fluor Field to watch the Greenville Drive lose to the Rome Braves with Steve Grant, Cathy Breazeale and Bill Butler. Steve, AKA “Pa,” and Bill, AKA “Butts,” played baseball at Furman, and we, uh, barely watched the game from a suite overlooking the right-field line. We bumped into Ron Smith, Furman’s baseball coach, on the way out, and continued our reminiscing at the Liberty Ale House behind Fluor Field’s Fenwayesque left-field wall.
I had a beer that tasted like it had an orange peel in it. Orange peels actually taste great after a while.
I got home at about midnight, which is to say, David Letterman Top 10 Time.
I skipped a blogging day for the first time in more than a month. I’ll double up soon.
This blog is so much about me, and probably of limited interest to you, that it might even be more interesting to give my advertisers some business. Just a thought.