Musings Of A New Southern Man

I am in one of those necessary lulls in the development of a novel, that time when I give copies of my precious work to beta readers and wait for responses. My current major project is called The Old Man From Denmark , and I have eight friends reading the first draft. It is hard for those who have never ventured into preparing a work of literature to comprehend the value of these readers. I will try to put it into perspective. I chose these readers for their various strengths. One is an editor of extreme skill who can catch minuscule mistakes that most people would overlook. One is a younger person with a strong interest in literature, and his interests run toward works that are off the beaten path and are more popular for younger readers. Another has a great skill of seeing the larger picture of what I am trying to achieve, but has a good eye for details that don't quite fit or need refinement. Four of them are women with varying interests and levels of expertise. One is a membe

I don't like to be a public speaker, but my job this week was easy. I got to tell people who knew my father as a great guy stories about how great he was. I decided to tell about character traits that were obvious in Eldon Metteer's life, and where I believe he gained those attributes. I started in his birthplace, Antelope, Oregon. Yes, Antelope is as small as it sounds. Let your mind work as you hear these facts. Antelope is on the dry side of Oregon, but there is adequate grass for a few cattle ranches and many more sheep ranches. It is about ten miles from a wide spot in the road called Bakeoven, but you have to travel a long way to find another town of even moderate size. The town has dirt streets that become mud streets when it rains. There are only a few hundred people who live there. The commerce is done mainly by people who cater to the ranchers, or provide goods for those heading east to Oregon's gold country. It is the kind of place that has a kid named Cabbage

I caught my first glimpse of my old hometown of The Dalles, Oregon, while part of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony was on the radio. I just crested the hill on the road from Dufur, and there like a jumbled collection of building blocks was the town. That might seem to be an incongruous combination to some, but it makes sense to me. The Dalles and its environs, complete with combines going through wheat fields as I drove by, deserves a classical introduction. I believe Ludwig would understand. This was more than a visit for old times' sake. I was staying with old friend Steve Garrett and his wife. Steve and I go back to our youth baseball days. Steve was a pitcher and I was the catcher on the Commercial Babe Ruth team. Yes, a few years have gone by, but a friendship endures. It helps that both of us have literary aspirations. But my big hopes for the visit centered on my experiences at a local pizza parlor. I had a reading in a back room at Spooky's. It was lined up by a part

Hey, it was tough for me to leave Eugene. It has been my hometown for more years than any other place I've lived. There are great memories, both pleasant and bitter, from my time there. I was a college student there, living a student's life. I was a journalist for 16 years at the Register-Guard, and I worked my butt off to give readers a well-edited, timely edition when they picked up their newspapers in the morning. The digital push was just beginning, so my experience with that was zero. There were things that softened the blow. I made the drive up the McKenzie River, which is one of the gorgeous trips in America. I went over the pass by Hoodoo and dropped down into Sisters, which is a lovely Western-themed town. Well, it's lovely when the tourists aren't clogging the streets, which was the case as I passed through. I then showed up in Bend, which was my family's hometown from 1981-85. It was a jewel back then, and it has grown and become even more alluring. The

I needed a place to stay in Eugene, so I contacted my friend Brett Gilchrist, who leads University Fellowship Church in Eugene (the folks who meet in the South Eugene High gym). He put me in touch with a guy named Mitch, who has a house in Creswell. It is one of the best introductions to a truly fine man I've had in my life. Mitch spent 32 years in prison for armed robbery and a shootout with police. He grew up with an abusive environment, and he turned to people in his native Philadelphia to find mentors. Those mentors were criminals. He ended up in Nevada, got involved with robbing places in South Lake Tahoe, and ended up on the wrong side of bullets from police. He was convicted and started his incarceration. He tried for 25 years to be paroled. For 25 years, his requests were denied, so he stopped trying. There was something that had to change drastically for him to become a free man. I don't get into faith in God matters on this blog, but I have to with this story. Mit

I am staying in Creswell, which is a wide spot in the road between Eugene and Cottage Grove. It's the kind of place you would expect to find a cafe named Joe's Diner, which is exactly where I ate last night and this morning. It's a farm belt/timber town. People here for the most part work by the sweat  of their brow. None of this hoity-toity Eugene PC vibe for them. I saw a couple leaving the diner last night, and they are perfect examples of this place. They looked to be in the latter stage of middle age. They got into a truck that wasn't exactly fresh out of the showroom. The paint was faded, and there were dents here and there. Why didn't their vehicle look pristine? It didn't have to. This was a working family's truck, ready for duty on some farm or maybe on a logging road deep in the forest. Typical Creswell kind of place. I will be stopping in other towns somewhat like Creswell, places like Prineville and The Dalles. I expect to see a few trucks wi

I am sitting at Denver International and waiting for a flight to PDX. That is my launching point for the One Summer Season Tour 2016, an eight-day swing through Oregon to fire up readers about my ebook. It doesn't have quite the fanfare of J.K. Rowling's book release, but it's going to be a good time. The quick itinerary: PDX to Eugene, have an interview with Steve Mims of the Register-Guard, try to post fliers and leave PR cards at bookstores, the UO, etc. Trying to line up a radio interview on sports talk show. Go to Bend, have a reading in Prineville (The Hub bookstore) on Saturday and one in Bend (Dudley's Bookshop and Cafe) on Sunday. Off to The Dalles after that, and have a big get-together with friends/family/interested readers there. Each place has strong ties to One Summer Season. I am looking forward to the opportunities and the good times. Yes, I am fine with public speaking after doing some impromptu speeches in Denver. Until later.

The 

I took a long break in order to get certain parts of my writing life in order. This blog contains some of those changes. Here is a short synopsis of the alterations: 1. Background image: The old photo of a stack of books on my blog header has been replaced. My new background pays homage to two places that have played big parts in forming me and my way of doing things. The raindrops are for the Pacific Northwest, where I was born and lived for the majority of my life. The mountains are for Colorado, where I have resided since 2005. 2. Content: I still write posts occasionally, but I add video chats on a regular basis. I plan to make this video chat a Monday-Friday routine. Just give me my cup of coffee, Photo Booth on my laptop, and I am good to go. I start with what I call Act Outside the Box, a series of one-sided discussions about taking chances when writing. My talks are purely impromptu, so excuse some hesitations and occasional looks off into space as I try to find the right