It's about 10:30pm, and i just came home from the Florida Heritage Book Festival banquet, where not only did i get to rub shoulders with some outstanding authors, and Florida Secretary of State Kurt Browning, but got a free meal (like a $60 meal, woot!) AND a free book (Bob Newhart's memoir, double woot! As i LOVE me some Bob Newhart...)
Tomorrow, I'll be at Flagler College in St. Aug most of the day, my gig is from 2:30-3:30 (look, I'm somebody! And they listed me first because I'm so special, not because I'm alphabetical. Steve Berry had to suck up the humiliation at my last gig, too...) I'll be speaking about personalities. How to craft them. Or because I have so many. Or something like that.
Anyway, it's times like this i wish i could just write, and write, and write... I would love to get more traction on the Transitions project. But even if i didn't have that, i could do more editing on the second Saban book... or the series of young children's books i want to do... or that book of T-18 survivors, that i still think about...
But then there's the whole earning-a-living thing. Ah well.
As for tonight, i got to hear some ribald tales from Randy White (author of the 18 or so Doc Ford books) tell stories about him and Peter Matthiessen (who once turned in a 2000 page manuscript - and didn't get laughed at.) Actually, as a former sea captain, i would bet most of Randy White's tales are pretty risque. Some of them are probably even true.
It doesn't happen that much anymore, but tonight, i was really missing my dad. God, that man could tell some stories.
Some of them were even true, too.
Well, the apple never seems to fall far from the tree. Your dad was a great storyteller. And remember, just because they weren't always factual doesn't mean they weren't true in some way or another. I miss your dad too. Keep writing bro! Love ya!
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