Archive for the ‘Non-Fiction’ Category

The Different Kinds of Editing

Posted: February 4, 2015 in Non-Fiction

The Different Kinds of Editing.

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ConcertFriday, January 23, 2014 my wife and I drove to the Capitol Theater in Clearwater, Florida. We were about to experience one of my favorite bards. A folksinger that defined an era just like his father before him. We stopped for dinner at O’Keeffe’s Tavern and ate as healthy as one could in public house. The aliments of age perched on both of our shoulders waiting with the patient of buzzards. Once fed, it was back in the car for a 10 minute drive to the theater.

Remember, when you were younger and went to a concert. You’d walk two miles or more, possibly park somewhere illegally, before you’d pay a lot or valet to park your ride. Yea, not when you are about to breach sixty years of young. Now I am one of those guys that does just that, pay the fee and walk right in—no mess, no fuss; except your pocket is twenty bucks lighter. But hey, you’re at the front door!

The venue was spectacular and cozy and the show was sold out. Like who wouldn’t have wanted a ticket to “Alice’s Restaurant 50th Anniversary Tour” starring one of the greatest folksingers of the ’60’s—Arlo Gutherie. That’s 1960’s not 1860’s for all you young ‘uns. This music man played at Woodstock and embodied the restlessness of the anti-establishment movement. He grew up in a music household with a famous father, Woody, who was a poet, a writer, an author and musician. Arlo followed in his father’s footsteps and his most famous song, Alice’s Restaurant,” which is really not about the restaurant but about the draft, defined all of us that grew up in that decade.

We took our seats and waited for the show to begin. The stage was lit with blue light and an emcee came out and gave a brief commercial on the up coming events.

Dude, let’s get on with the show.

Once he left the stage, I took a picture of it and posted it to Facebook. My nephew immediately respond and said, ”There sure is a lot of white hair in the audience.”

He was a very observant individual.

The lights dimmed and it was showtime. Suddenly, we were watching a claymation movie of Arlo Gutherie’s, “I Don’t Want a Pickle, I just Want to Ride My Motorcycle.” Then the band came out on stage and picked up the refrain as the animation ended. The show only got better.

We not only got to hear those songs that ran us backwards to our time of invincibility, we also got to learn a little about Arlo. He was married for forty three years but his wife had passed on. He wrote a children’s book about Al the Goose. It’s not politically correct but it is funny–in a dark way.

Me and my Goose


Me and my pal


We had some very good times


Me and my goose his name was Al


And he cost only a dime

Over meadows we’d stray

Playing all day


I missed him at night until dawn

Then one day I found he wasn’t around


I wondered where Al could have gone

I looked everywhere he just wasn’t there


Where could a goose be all day


I miss my pal

I miss my Al

It’s sad that things turned out this way

Then mom brought him
I remember her grin


Stuffed with his feet pointed straight

I’ll never forget the night that we ate

Al off of the old yellow plate

Songwriters
 ARLO GUTHRIE
Published by
 Lyrics © THE BICYCLE MUSIC COMPANY

If you want to check out the book here’s the link—http://www.amazon.com/Me-My-Goose-Arlo-Guthrie/dp/0991537068

We heard many of his old songs, they were the ones he remembered (he’s almost 70), then “Alice’s Restaurant” which ended with a standing ovation. The show was over and the last song sung, he said good night and walked off stage. We all waited for the encore, you know it’s going happen, and it did.

He walks back on stage and as he was tuning his guitar, a guy steps up to the stage with an album and says,”Arlo, can I get you to sign this?”

He looks at the guy for a minute and says, “No.”

Everyone laughed but the guy was persistent and had to be seated by security.

Then Arlo sang a song. The words were written by Woody and he had put music to them. He had us all join in and it was absolutely a kumbaya moment.

I’ve seen a few musical talents from my youth: Edgar Winter, Leo Kottke, and David Brine. They were all fantastic. This was different. This one made me think about the time I signed up for the draft, Living on air and not much else, and how, at that time, everything was far out man. We were all on the cusp of loosing our innocence but it was still down the road—just a little ways. We didn’t want to eat a pickle, we only wanted to ride our motorcikle.

Just a Note of Thanks

Posted: January 19, 2015 in Non-Fiction
Tags: , , , ,

Hi! First, thank you for visiting my WordPress page. Most of the posts are mine and once in while, if I feel compelled, I post a link to something I found interesting.

The purpose of this post is to inform you, the reader, that these stories are in the “raw” and for the most part not ready for publication as they need additional editing. I believe they are entertaining and if your interest or imagination has been captured then, they have succeeded in their task.

I am currently working on a paranormal murder mystery. Some might say it is more fantasy, but it does have ghosts, witches, and brings the world of Fae into play. The working title is “Bob.”

Like many who write today, I have a full time job and along with my family, includes pets (vicious wiener schnitzels and a cat named DaVinci), I have to find time to write. “Bob” is taking up all my found writing time. He is a relentless character and seems to be very needy. But, if I was a passive- aggressive medium-clairvoyaint, five foot four inches short, and one hundred and eighty five pounds with just enough separation between my head and my shoulders to claim I have a neck, then maybe I too would be a bit needy.

If you like any of my stores please check “like” or if you want to leave constructive criticism please do so. Self-editing is a difficult thing to do and even established and famous authors use an editor. Alas, I am neither at this moment and rely on friends, family, and the Clearwater Writers Group to give it a once (or several times) over.

So carry on to the good stuff and please leave a mark letting me know what you enjoyed or what you didn’t. Oh, and if you like flash fiction “The Final Flush” is one of my favorite stories. That’s DaVinci in the picture!

Regards,

RR Lippincott

Excellent article!

Carly Watters, Literary Agent Blog

bwbooks2Goodreads: everyone’s favourite social book tracking site. What more can you want as an author than to be where the bibliophiles are?

There are many ways to use Goodreads, but from the perspective of an author trying to get the word out you’re in a great place to find your market.

HOW TO USE GOODREADS FOR BOOK PROMOTION:

1. Giveaways

Goodreads giveaways are a great way to get early reviews of your book. This sets the tone early. Word of mouth can spread quickly. Organize this with your marketing department and make sure galleys are allotted to this.

2. Paid Advertising

Many writers struggle with the idea of using their own money to promote their book. This is a great way to choose and pay for a package to do your own marketing with your publisher’s assistance supplying graphic designed images–or if you are self-published, on your own.

3. Blog Cross Promotion

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On being a thing

Posted: June 9, 2014 in Non-Fiction

 

The small mindness of troglodites and their “might is right” mindset, gives purchase to the concept of selective breeding. Hate should never be transmuted into physical action. It shows just how primitive we are; though we espouse, as a species, to be advanced and enlightented.

Sarah Kendzior

I do not write personal essays. This is the first, and likely the last, you will see.

I write articles that have resonated with millions of people, often in an emotional way. But I never write about myself or my personal life. I have multiple platforms and if I wanted to, I could. I choose not to – in part because I think focusing on myself distracts from the social and political problems I depict, but also because I value my privacy.

I am like this in “real life” too. I have been described as aloof, but I try to be generous and kind. I take care of my family and my community. I don’t care about fame, which is much more of a curse than a gift. I reject most media interviews. My priorities are my loved ones and my work. Yesterday I was reading Charlotte’s Web to my…

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I love cycling! I like to do all kinds of rides from 10 mile around the neighborhood rides to a week-long 300-400 mile cycle tour.

So what’s this have to do with coffee you ask yourself?

It’s where the story begins on a week-long bicycle ride called GOBA; GOBA stands for The Great Ohio Bicycle Adventure.

Rick!” mh

Yes.”

What does this have to do with coffee?”

Give me a chance, I am getting there.”

Well hurry up, your losing me. I want to know about the coffee!”’

“Ok! Constant Readers – geez!”

The adventure, about coffee, begins on a GOBA trip out of the City of Delaware, Ohio. My buddy Ken organized a private sag (he rented a U-Haul for our group). GOBA is an acronym for the Great Ohio Bicycle Adventure a six day cycling trip with 3,000 of your closest friends.

It was a bright June day, Sunday ( Father’s Day), and GOBA was in Delaware. The smell of summer was like a perfume that followed you where ever you went. I arrived, registered, and soon found the U-Haul Truck that would carry my gear and that of the other 20 participants who decided to go with our tight-knit cycling group. Steve, his nickname is Shogun, was busy helping Ken load the gear in the truck. Steve is an older tough red-neck, blue-collar kind of guy, that can out ride some of the young guns. Ken’s nick name is Putittakeit; I know weird but then so is Ken, his bike has Indian feathers on it, enough said?

Coffee Rick, Get to the damn coffee!”sb

I am, don’t you want to know my nickname?”

No!”

“Alright then on with the tale!”

One of the guys that signed up to go along with our group was Jay. Jay was obnoxious, loud, and an advocate for the repeal of gluttony as one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Simply, I never really cared for Jay. Jay had that swagger and attitude that translated as; I know everything about anything and only my opinion counts so don’t bother me with your drivel. I hate that kind of guy!

Please Rick, the coffee, you prooomisssed!”

Be quite, others are reading! Do you want some cheese to go with that whine?”

When Jay dropped off his gear to be loaded on the truck, he rummaged through one of his bags and pulled out a package of Starbucks Coffee. Steve was setting up the placement of our food stuffs when Jay threw the package at Steve.

Shogun, catch!”

Steve snatched the package out of the air with his large rough paw. There was a sound like hard snow being crunched under heavy boots but with a crisp finish.

What’s this?”

Starbucks Coffee man, the best coffee ever produced by anyone! We are going to have Starbucks every morning and you can all thank me.”

Steve didn’t say a word. He took the package and put it in the food box along with the other items that had been donated and deemed to be a necessity on this week long adventure. Why rough it right?

So for the next six mornings Steve was the first guy up and would always start breakfast. He had brought along his camp stove, which was a bit temperamental, and wouldn’t let anyone else work it. I didn’t mind, by the time I was up Starbucks coffee and breakfast were ready. That tasty roasted flavor biting your tongue was wonderful. Jay, he really liked Starbucks and would pour a cup, taste it, then proselytize.

Mmmm, this is great coffee! Starbucks is so much better when you camp. That package of Special Dark Roast from the Wilds of Tanzania was ten bucks. It’s worth it and I am glad I could treat you all to it!”

The following Saturday we finish our 300 plus mile loop and rode back in to the City of Delaware. I find our U-Haul truck and began helping Putittakeit (Ken) unload some of the general items. Shogun comes around the corner of the truck and we all stand there talking about the ride and our different adventures. Shogun looks up the road and I could read disgust in his eyes.

Damn!”

What’s the matter Shogun,” I said.

Here comes Jay!”

Sure enough Jay rides up on his recumbent; it’s a bicycle that you sit in rather than on, smiling like he owns the world.

Wow, that was a great ride and that Starbucks Coffee was the best. Shogun was there any left? I want to take the rest home it was expensive.”

Shogun reached into the food box that was sitting on the floor of that worked-out U-Haul and pulled out the unopened bag of Starbucks and threw it at Jay. That toss was like a Catfish Hunter fast ball in the bottom of the ninth inning. The bag hit Jay in the hands then dropped to the ground after bouncing off his overly large belly.

Shogun, this bag is unopened!”

That’s right.”

So what were we drinking all week?”

Shogun’ s steely stare quieted Jay and after a pause he said, “Maxwell House!”

Putittakeit started with one of his belly laughs and I laughed so hard I was crying. Jay was embarrassed and dumb-founded (first time ever).

Personally, that scene provided the best story of the trip and it was, wait for it, good to the last drop!