ROUTE 66 AND THE EPIC GRAND CANYON ROAD TRIP OR HOW I CAME TO SPEND THE NIGHT AT THE SOUTH RIM WITH SAFEWAY GROCERY BAGS FOR LUGGAGE

Route 66
Lyrics by Bobby Troup

If you ever plan to motor west,
Travel my way, take the highway that is best.
Get your kicks on Route 66.

It winds from Chicago to LA,
More than two thousand miles all the way.
Get your kicks on Route 66.

Now you go through Saint Looey
Joplin, Missouri,
And Oklahoma City is mighty pretty.
You see Amarillo,
Gallup, New Mexico,
Flagstaff, Arizona.
Don't forget Winona,
Kingman, Barstow, San Bernandino.

Won't you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that California trip
Get your kicks on Route 66.

Won't you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that California trip
Get your kicks on Route 66.
Get your kicks on Route 66.
Get your kicks on Route 66.

Daddy always played and liked that song and I didn't get it. That's because when I was a kid and he was playing it, I didn't know about Route 66 - now I do. I not only know of its history because I read about it - now I know part of it first hand.

Somewhere today I saw someone mention driving a Mustang down the epic Route 66, and I thought "I've done that." Not the entirety of Route 66, but a portion of its heart. In fact, it was only a few years ago when I did that.

I began to think about that trip. It was a crazy, spur-of-the-moment, Maverick kinda thing I would do. :) I could blame my Texan-ness on those "Maverick" tendencies I have, but I come by them honestly from my Dad, Louie.

Either one of my two sisters would have been game for this hare-brained last-minute idea (as they share that "Louie" DNA), but, as it was, my sister Carol was the one who was with me.

We were in the middle of freaking nowhere for a good deal of the trip, and some would think two girls alone in the desert driving bat-out-of-Hell style from Vegas to the Grand Canyon is risky - a little too much "Thelma and Louise". Maybe it was, but I don't think so. We had a blast.

In this case, The Middle of Freaking Nowhere began in what is officially referred to as the "Mt. Wilson Wilderness Area". Aptly named, if you ask me. It's a "wilderness" alright.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though. This story actually begins with Las Vegas.

I had just sold my first book for publication and I had a little extra money - very little. :) Anyway, I was supposed to go to a writing conference in Vegas, and I was also going to have a meeting with my agent there. I asked my sister, Carol, to go with me because she had never been to Vegas.

So off we went via American Airlines to Las Vegas where we found ourselves driving up the strip in my rented red Mustang hard top. It had some forward motion to it - just a little bit. The sound of an engine like that makes my foot suddenly become heavier. :)

On Friday, things with the conference were not yet in full swing, so we had decided to take a little trip down to Hoover Dam just to see the historic monolith. Off we went. It was very interesting and imposing. Wow! If you ever get a chance, check it out.

During the tour, etc., I got a burr under my saddle (as we say in Texas) and started thinking how fun it would be to see the Grand Canyon. I had a map, and I was familiar enough with the territory to get there (so I thought). I had a rental car that moved and an itchy "trigger" foot. :) It seemed a shame not to exercise both.

It was 2:00 in the afternoon. I was thinking this trip was about 175 miles and with all the lead out of it, about 2-1/2 hours. We could watch the sunset over the Canyon, grab a bite to eat on the way back and be back in Vegas in the nighttime. So I thought.

Well friends, from Hoover Dam it is 241 miles to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, and no matter my speed, it's still about a 4 hour trip. This was October and I was driving against the setting sun. So, my calculations on distance and time were wrong and I had not taken into consideration the fact that I would be driving east.

Of course my sister totally agreed to the trip. We hopped in my rented car, crossed the Hoover Dam (very narrow two-lane road, usually loaded with tourist traffic and it takes a bit to get all the way across). Once across we were officially in Arizona. We plowed down US Highway 93. That bad boy opens up into the aforementioned Mt. Wilson Wilderness Area a/k/a "The Middle of Freaking Nowhere".

You see nothing for miles and miles, and when I say "nothing" I really mean NOTHING. There are no gas stations, no roadside stops, no other merging highways. You look to the right of the highway and there are miles of flat, brown, dusty landscape and a big row of mountains. You look to the left of the highway and there are miles of flat, brown, dusty landscape and a big row of mountains. You look straight ahead and there are miles of flat, brown, dusty landscape and an open road.

Maybe, if you're lucky, off to the side, you'll see some lone, random mobile home waaaayyyyyy in the distance at the end of a narrow, rutted, dirt road.

Maybe.

If you're lucky.

You lose cell service out there shortly after you leave the Hoover Dam area. You pick it up again about 30minutes later. How many miles were we without cell service? Well, I don't know. I only know the minutes, not the miles.

You see that whole "open road" thing makes my foot start feeling that extreme heaviness again, and then there's the Mustang hard top... let's just say this girl was pedal to the metal. Did I mention that the middle of nowhere also has nearly zero traffic and no cops?
                           
Juice under the hood. Gas in the tank. No traffic. No cops. Get it?

So 30 minutes were (cough) quite a few miles. I was putting a lot of asphalt under the wheels in short order. :)

Then we arrived in Kingman (check those song lyrics, folks). We continued along Interstate 40 for a while - that's one wide open divided highway. Then on down the way, about halfway to Williams, Arizona is where you can hop off onto The Legendary Highway, Route 66 and continue eastward until you get to Williams (Williams is where you change roads to get to the Grand Canyon).

I cruised down Route 66 in my rented Mustang thinking about the road's great history. I thought of Daddy. He would have loved it.

By the time we got to Williams we were running out of daylight in a big way. We were not going to be watching that autumn sunset from the South Rim. So, we pulled into a Safeway in Williams and got a few things we needed:  toothbrushes, tooth paste, deodorant, some soap - you get the picture. Everything we needed for the night was in our Safeway Plastic Grocery Bags. Uh-huh, our "luggage".

Remember our original plan was to see the sunset at the Grand Canyon and then drive back to Vegas. With no daylight we weren't going to see the Grand Canyon until morning, and we didn't drive all that way not to see it. So, we were staying the night somewhere until sunrise. We had no idea if we could even find a room when we got to our destination. We might have been sleeping in the car for all we knew.

Hopped back in the 'Stang and blasted up Highway 64 out of Williams headed for the South Rim and a little town called Tusayan, Arizona. It's nice. I recommend it.

Along the way you increase elevation and you travel through a very dense, piney forest - Kaibab National Forest, which blends seamlessly into Grand Canyon National Park. I did not know this until the next morning (when I could see it), but that forest extends all the way up to the South Rim of that yawning, mile-deep abyss. Meanwhile, it was already utter blackness and we couldn't see much of anything except what was in our headlights.

Arriving in Tusayan we drove up to the South Rim and checked on availability in the lodge there in the Grand Canyon park proper - none. We drove back into Tusayan on the road that went right past the South Rim lookout. We couldn't see a thing, but I swear I could feel the immensity of the gaping hole to our left as we drove by in the pitch darkness - eerie.

Back into Tusayan proper and we proceeded to try to find a room. First place we checked had none, zero, zippo. I was getting worried. There aren't a lot of options up there.

It may have been early October, but keep in mind we were dressed for Vegas and the Hoover Dam. Not cold there in October. South Rim of the Grand Canyon - COLD in early October. Sleeping in the car was looking far less attractive at this point.

The next place we tried was this quaint little lodge on the main street. It had one room left. We parked the Mustang and checked in, with our "luggage". We laughed about that "luggage" all evening. Hell, we still laugh about that.

We had dinner at a little diner and then back to our room. We slept and arose at 4:00 a.m. Checked out and drove on up to the lookout over the South Rim. We waited about an hour in the car, in the dark. The temp was right at freezing - not kidding. We were freezing our butts off with no coats. Then finally as the sun began to shed some of its light from the east, we got out and walked to the rim lookout. The below is only some of what we saw that very early morning.

 

 

Then it was back to reality. I had a 1:00 p.m. lunch meeting with my agent on the schedule. I was 5 hours from Vegas in the same clothes I wore the day before and I looked like crap. It was time to get high behind.

We were driving through the Kaibab forest at a pretty fair rate of speed when we spied a bull Elk on the side of the road - and he was facing the road, as if he was thinking about crossing it. This thing was immense! I had to take my foot off the gas, because if you hit one of those you're dead. He would walk away, but we and our car would be the road kill! That's an animal about 5 feet at the shoulder with a weight from 700-1,000 lbs! It's like running your car into a brick wall. So, light on the gas until we passed him. He looked at us like he was bored and then turned and walked back into the forest.

Magnificent beast.

Disaster averted. Back to pedal to the metal.

A brief stop for breakfast in Williams and then hell bent for leather back through Kingman, The MOFN Wilderness, over the Hoover Dam, and then blew through Boulder City, Henderson and Viva Las Vegas!!

I had slightly more than 1 hour to get ready for the meeting with my agent. Back to the hotel, speed shower/makeup/hair/nice clothes and Voila! There I was at a table in Olive at the Bellagio  having lunch with my agent, just as planned.

In the past 24 hours I had driven 536 miles, seen the Hoover Dam and the Mt. Wilson Wilderness Area, driven on the Legendary Highway/Route 66, seen the Kaibab National Forest (complete with intimidating bull Elk) and watched sunrise over the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Oh, and I had seen the Safeway in Williams, Arizona and invested in some of their "luggage". ;)

It's one of the best drives I've ever made in my life. :) Wooo-hooo!!

So, there you are - that's how I came to spend the night at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon with Safeway grocery bags for luggage. :)

Freaking Epic.

Polla filia,
J.F.

BIG WATER

I have been remiss on this blog these last few days. It's been busy. I had a lot of research to get done while I was here, and a lot to think about writer-wise.

So, first of all I've been all over town looking at this and that, taking photos and making notes. I got a lot accomplished, and I thoroughly broke in some new walking shoes (thank you, Nike)!

On Saturday, I went back out on a boat and took a little cruise to Angel Island. It was cold and crazy windy! Choppy waters and the boat was bouncing all over the place - I had a moment of almost panic. I don't know how, but somehow I pushed it down (methodical breathing helps). Finally we arrived in Ayala Cove on Angel Island, which is sheltered from much of said wind. We had a nice little tram tour of the island. It is really beautiful, and if you come to San Francisco I highly recommend you go to Angel Island with your family and a picnic basket. The kids can play and the spot is really beautiful. It is one huge California State Park, with picnic tables, trails, and a little café. It's nice.

Then we got back on the boat and made another trip to Alcatraz. I took a few more photos and then we headed back to San Francisco.

Now, here's the thing:  we were back out on that choppy water from Angel Island to Alcatraz and I shot some photos that it now scares me to look at. I was standing - STANDING, people - on the stern deck in that damn choppy water shooting the photos. Don't ask how I did that, but needless to say I have done well in telling my phobia where it can go!

The phobia is not gone, but I exerted a lot of energy last weekend in suppressing it. I'm proud of myself, but I am also tired and done with Big Water for quite a while now. Enough already.

Now, for some pics.

This is Ayala Cove on Angel Island. When the Spanish "discovered" San Francisco Bay (technically Native Americans discovered it, but the Spanish were the first outsiders to discover it), they made it through the strait (Golden Gate) and put down anchor in what is now Sausalito. The next morning they found the sheltered cove across the way and anchored there for over a month while they surveyed the entire bay. That cove is now called Ayala cove after the captain of the Spanish ship.

BTW, you can click on this photo and see all the photos bigger and clearer.

 

Next are some views from Angel Island, and this is not even the highest point on the island. You can imagine how spectacular the views from the top would be!

This is a view back toward the city, with Alcatraz in between.

 

The Golden Gate in fog.

The view of Sausalito.

This is Raccoon Strait between Angel Island and Belvedere/Tiburon.

These are called the Pride of Madeira and only bloom for a couple of weeks NOW, which means I would not have seen them otherwise. Really pretty!

The following is:  the view of San Fran from the Alcatraz dock, the view of the Golden Gate bridge from all that choppy water, and a photo I like to call "what in the hell was I thinking?" - because I have no idea how I stood on the stern deck and shot that bad boy. Clearly, I was so focused on the photography I forgot my senses. :) Seriously, I look at these photos of choppy water now, and I'm scared.

 

Well, here endeth the pictorial. Tomorrow I head back to Texas (thank you, God). It's always nice to get away, but going home is even nicer. ;)

Polla Filia,
J.F.

TRIUMPH, PEACE AND BEAUTY

Triumph

Last night I faced a long-time fear, and something amazing happened - something I still don't understand. I succeeded!

I went on the night tour to Alcatraz, which involved me being on a ferry going from San Francisco to Alcatraz Island. To-recap from my prior post - I'm terrified of deep water. Well, I became so absorbed in the onboard narration of the history of the island, etc., AND the views of the city as we left the pier and the views of Alcatraz as we got closer, and taking pictures of all those views - well, I forgot about listening to the iPod and singing and I almost forgot all my fear!

I had one moment as we made our way around a particular buoy where I got a bit nervous and felt a small wave of panic rising, but I put it down and got back to picture taking, and I made it just fine! Then on the way back at the end of evening, I met some nice people from Texas and we got to talking and I was so comfortable and happy to be talking to Texans that I had no fear at all on the way back. Yay!

Now, the man who has been helping me with this phobia of mine told me that the more you face it and succeed, the more you overcome it. So, chalk up last night as a rip-roaring success. Now, mind you this doesn't wipe out my fear, but I took a big, BIG chunk out of it! :)

Here are some photos from the trip:

 

 

Peace and Beauty

Then this morning I did a drive around the East Bay, across the San Rafael bridge (past San Quentin *shudder*) and on to Muir Beach, Sausalito and Tiburon. Beautiful, beautiful, BEAUTIFUL!! Especially Muir Beach.

The photos below are not going to do it justice. There was the sound of the waves coming in, which was such a soothing sound, and the birds, and then that low, mournful fog horn I could hear in the distance. It was a beautiful morning, in a beautiful spot on the planet, gazing out on the Pacific ocean, surrounded by an incredible landscape. I wish I could bottle it all up and send it to you. I did not want to leave - for real.  **sigh**

This is not like a tourist beach, or a tanning beach, or a party beach. This is so much better than any of that, it's in a league of its own. This was a place that whispers in your ear and compels you to stay just a while longer.

The beauty that is Muir Beach:

 

 

 

 

 

Tonight I'm off to enjoy some Greek food (Opa!), and tomorrow I have another "face my fear" trip - a ferry ride to Angel Island. Longer trip and I'm planning on succeeding again! Woo-hoo!

Polla Filia,
J.F.

BLOG REDUX - SAN FRANCISO MAGIC

T-minus 2 very, very short days to the San Francisco research trip. I have so much to do and...

I. Am. Freaking. Out!!! EEEEKKK!

**It's okay. I'm breathing now.**

Since I am busy doing 42 other things, I am putting up another Blog Redux for you. From 2009 (the last time I went to San Francisco), here are some thoughts on the shared experience.

Check back into the blog, because I will be sharing thoughts and photos from the glorious City By the Bay.

Enjoy, y'all!

MYTHS AND LONELINESS

“In utter loneliness a writer tries to explain the inexplicable.”

“We are lonesome animals. We spend all our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say — and to feel — ‘Yes, that's the way it is, or at least that's the way I feel it. You're not as alone as you thought.’”

-- John Steinbeck

It is now t-minus 15 days and counting until The Big San Francisco Vacation.

This vacation of mine, re-scheduled twice, then canceled, now finally back on again, has taken on a mythical nature in my mind - and yet, here I am 15 days out and so far it looks as if it will happen.

Good grief! What will I do when the plane lands at SFO, when I step out into that cool San Franciscan air and breathe it in, when I arrive at my hotel and discover “Yes, I do have a room? Will the moment come when I say “I am here”? I may have to pinch myself a time or two.

I think I’ll trot myself over to the Top of the Mark and get a good stiff beverage and watch the fog roll in “on little cat feet” (to borrow from Mr. Sandburg). It has been too many years since I have been in that fine establishment, listened to jazz, sipped a cocktail, and enjoyed the breathtaking view of that Great City.

Is it real? Will I get there this time?

*Myth.*

The “day job” is damn near killing me lately. I’m exhausted - long overdue for this break. Its tedium sucks the life out of my writing brain, and then when I have a weekend, and maybe throw in one measly extra day off, the writing brain springs back into action - slips back into its blissful groove. Then the writing dream comes back to real life. Lately those writing moments have been short-lived. In San Francisco I will have two whole weeks of them.

*Myth.*

I will be alone on this trip - for the sake of much-needed solitude and the re-acquisition of some peace (I hope) - but, mostly for the sake of the writing work I will do there.

I imagine now standing in Monterey, looking out to sea, feeling the ocean breeze. I imagine standing on the wharf in San Francisco, looking out at the bay. I imagine scanning that great skyline. I imagine Coit Tower, the Transamerica Tower, the Bay Bridge and that architectural wonder, the Golden Gate Bridge. I imagine walking through North Beach, visiting Enrico’s, listening to jazz, walking past Kerouac Alley, City Lights Bookstore, going into Vesuvio. I imagine great meals and fine wine. I imagine the sounds, the smells, the tastes, the experiences - with all their color and texture. I see myself writing notes and taking photos all along the way in an almost vain attempt to capture those places, my feelings - those moments - to capture them so that I might re-conjure them later for you - and for me.

Now they are only lonely thoughts.

*Myth.*

When I experience it, and then write it in this blog, and you read it, is it still a lonely thought? Or will you feel it with me then? Am I able to take my solitary work and turn it into something shared?

When I write it for you, will you say “Yes, that’s the way it is,” or “Yes, I feel it, too. I see how it is to be there. I enjoy the moment with you. You’re not as alone as you thought.”

*Myth.* Maybe not...

Polla Filia,
J.F.

BLOG REDUX: HANGING A WRITER'S TEN

Holy cow! I woke up this a.m. and realized that tomorrow morning is MAY! I leave for another trip (book research) to San Francisco next week. I still have so much to dooooooo.... EEEEK!

**Hyperventilating** **Breathing slowly again**

It is going to be GREAT, though. :)

Here's one out of the archives from my last trip to San Fran. This time I am working on what I call MS4. It is one of the three novels I referenced in the below.

So, from 2009 - here's a little San Fran prep. :)

RIDING THE DREAM WORLD WAVE

"There are some people who live in a dream world, and there are some who face reality. Then there are those who turn one into the other."

-- Douglas Everett

It is now t-minus 19 days and counting until The Big San Francisco Vacation.

Been in full writer mode lately. It’s hard to explain what that is and how that differs from my regular writer mode. Stories play in my head all the time; but, there is a level at which they begin to really take shape - where I’m on a roll - where I *crave* writing more than usual. It’s a writing euphoria. I like to hit the crest of that wave and ride it as far as it will take me. I’m hangin’ a writer’s ten.

My next book in the “Art of Crime” series is in my head for sure; but, I also have another series in my brain, and a standalone novel (or novella) that has nothing to do with my crime writing. So, I’m juggling three great story ideas, and they are all *active*!

I get caught up in my characters, and their stories. They live for real in my head. Later when I re-read my stuff, I’ll go “where did that come from?” I use my brain to hone all the writing and make it as good as I can, as readable, as interesting, without losing that magical part that just makes itself happen.

Hell, I’ve been makin’ stuff up since as early as I can remember - and writing it down into little stories when I was a kid. I used to lie out in the front yard in the early evening and scribble those little stories into a notebook. As it got dark, all I had was the light of the street lamp overhead. I had that euphoric feeling about writing even then.

I couldn’t stop then, and I still can’t. Someone asked me recently “What made you decide to start writing?” I thought, “Decide?!!” There was a decision in there somewhere? Hah! Like I had a choice - well, I had a choice, but not writing would not be a pretty choice for me.

I can feel something good coming in my writing world. Something is about to break open in my next story for the “Art of Crime” series - we’ll call it AOC Book 2. I think there will be a big “aha” writing moment for me on this San Francisco trip.

I chose San Francisco for my next vacation trip (in lieu of my beloved New York City), in part because I do love San Fran, but also I had this idea that would not let me go, and it was all set in San Francisco.

I call it a “vacation”, but to this writer there is No. Such. Thing. My writing brain is on and working damn near 24/7. There are nights when I have a hard time turning off the stuff so I can sleep! The only way in which this trip *is* a vacation, is that I’ll be away from my damn day job, so I can do what I *really* love for two whole, beautiful weeks. I can write whenever and wherever I want. Yeah!!

I’ll be prowling around San Francisco and thereabouts in daylight and dark. There will be some of the next AOC story in the North Beach area, and something I’ll be putting in there that’s set in Berkley/Oakland, and there might even be a little this and that from Monterey/Salinas and San Jose. I’m sure there will be parts of the place I haven’t even thought of yet that wind up in the story. That’s just the way the process goes for me - it’s part very strategic planning and hard work, and part unbelievable surprise.

The surprise - the discovery - the *adventure* - will be how that whole beautiful, mystical landscape of the San Francisco area will play out in AOC Book 2. That’s a big piece of the euphoria for me - the way the stuff I think up blends in with the stuff that just brings itself to me. It’s a fantastic journey between reality and the way reality influences the fiction in my head. When that dream world wave hits its crest, I hop on and see where it takes me.

There are 19 more days before I get to San Fran. I’ll ride this small wave until I get there, and then I’ll be paddling out again looking for a Big Dream Wave to bring me some *new* surprise!

Polla Filia,

J.F.

DREAMTIME

 "All your dreams can come true if you have the courage to pursue them." -- Walt Disney

"I dream. Sometimes I think that's the only right thing to do." -- Haruki Murakami

"Be relentless." -- Sean "Diddy" Combs

"Save some time to dream, 'cause your dream might save us all." -- John Mellencamp

Dreams require commitment, perseverance, imagination and lots of hard work. It's one thing to say you have a Dream. It's something else altogether to devote years of your life to that Dream, sacrificing lots of "free time" and "fun" in order to get to that Dream.

This is dreaming at a whole other level. For some people (like me) it is better than "free time" and "fun". It is Dreamtime and then it is euphoria. When it reaches that height, then you hook a ride on the "Dream World Wave"!

You have to work long and hard in Dreamtime before you get a ride on the Wave. It doesn't come often either. That's why you have to really *want* the Dream.

For many months now I have been working on my next book. I'm going to refer to this book as MS4 (MS for manuscript and 4 because it's the fourth one I've written).+

When you have a "day job" to pay the mortgage, etc., executing on your Dream becomes more than a little difficult. My schedule consists of the day job, eating, working out, sleeping, working on the book, and occasionally, I do a few things just to keep the household running - oh, and I feed the cat. He thinks that's pretty important.

That's it.

In spite of all that, writing time for me *is* Dreamtime. It is tiring and energizing, mind-numbing and mind-bending, a downer trip and a sometimes euphoric experience, a huge sacrifice and a wonderful investment - it is a roller coaster ride from hell to heaven.

First, I plan: a concept, then more particulars of the story, plot points, pacing and various other things that will make the story happen as it should.

There are times when my "work" consists of me sitting in a chair staring blankly off into "space", but this is work, and a very necessary part of the work.

Then there's research, which serves two main purposes in my mind: 1) it gives the book the "ring of truth" in certain areas; and 2) research provides me with inspiration I would not have if I had not explored some new bit of knowledge. Some research involves physically going somewhere - seeing a place, talking to people, etc. There is *nothing* that will inform a story and launch my imagination like physically being in a place and having all *five* of my senses engaged.

When it all comes together - the planning, staring into space, researching - when that happens, *then* I download it into the computer from my head and it becomes a manuscript. All of that constitutes Dreamtime.

Which leads me to MS4, and research I have to do to finish this thing.

MS4 is set in San Francisco for the most part. There are a couple of scenes in Austin and New York City, but the majority of it takes place in San Francisco.

I already made one trip to San Francisco which was the first bit of research I did for this book.

Now, the time has come for me to go back to San Francisco and do some additional research to finish this up.

I am organizing myself as to all the things I need to see and do while there, and some law enforcement folks with whom I need to visit. I will only have a week, and I am going to have to jam a lot of things into one very short week. I will rise and shine early and get going, go all day, and then crash in my hotel at the end.

This trip will not take place until May (for a variety of reasons, including time off from the day job and *money*).

I will be blogging from San Francisco during my trip, and I will be blogging as I lead up to this trip. I will be talking about writing, a little bit about myself, San Francisco, my plans for the trip - including restaurants (Mmmm, yum), and side trips I will make in the bay area. Occasionally, I'll blog about something random. I will also have the occasional blog redux from the archives. :)

So, buckle up. I'm going on a journey through the making of a story, the city in which that story takes place, and all the other "places" the journey decides to take me. It's Dreamtime, and I'm looking for some Waves!

Polla Filia,
J.F.

+ I have written and previously published a book under another name, and "No" I'm not going to tell you the name or the book - water under the bridge for my own reasons. I also had an "under the bed" book, which most authors have. This is the one you wrote first, it's crap and you would never try to publish it. If you're lucky you can "cannibalize" the good bits out of it and use it in another book - if you're lucky. Finally, I have a 3rd manuscript, which I'm certain will be published, but right now I'm finishing this one, because someone wants to see it.

HOMECOMING

I have been a long time away from this blog, and I have no real excuse except that it has been a long, hot summer, and I have been working on the next book. Now, to more important matters.

I am from Austin (born and bred), but I lived in Dallas for many years before moving back here to Central Texas (I live just outside of Austin now). Austin is not the same as it was in my youth, and that is a bad thing. I cannot bear what the interlopers have done to it. In their ignorance they irrevocably changed that which drew them here in the first place. Stupid. Consequently, I have taken to living in the hills outside the city, near Lake Travis.

Why I left Dallas and moved back to the CenTex is a story for another day - hell, that’s about three or four different blog posts.

Next week I am going to Dallas for five days. That may not sound to you as exciting as the trip I took to San Francisco last year, or the trips to New York City I dream about and pine for on this blog (ah, New York, how I miss you!). It may not seem exciting to you; but I am longing to see Dallas.

You see, Dallas is my second home. I wasn’t born there, and I didn’t grow up there by conventional definitions of “growing up” in a place; but it *is* my second home. It is changing and never changing. Dallas’s charm is defined by change. Whereas, Austin’s charm *was* defined by its unique and previously never-changing spirit. Gone are those days - and if you didn’t grow up in Austin like me, with a Dad who also grew up there, then you cannot debate this point with me. You simply don’t know enough to know what you’re talking about. Now, back to Dallas, because I have digressed into my “Austin Ain’t What It Used To Be” rant.

When I left my parent’s home, I moved to Big D to begin my “day career” (that is the thing I do while I work on the writing gig). It was in Dallas where I first began to seriously water the seeds of my writing dream. It was also there where I truly “grew up” (to the extent I can at all be considered to be grown up - although, I can fake it pretty well for short bursts).

Dallas is more home to me in many ways than any other place. Even after many years away, I still know it like the back of my hand; and I know its nature, its pulse, its hidden magic.

Dallas puts on a face like a sprawling, glittering metropolis; but it has heart - real heart. It is a heart it hides from the superficial traveler; but it will open itself to the dreamer who explores its depths, and who is open enough to understand its warmth.

I leave one week from today. I will relax and breathe in My Great City, My Home Town of Dreams. I will see old friends and very familiar places. I will look at that great dazzling skyline and remember exciting days as I began a new life there, and that excitement will bloom in me anew. I rejuvenate some of the best parts of myself in that place and take them away with me each time.

I will feel Dallas in my blood again in that way only I can know, but can’t describe. Whenever I go back, it claims me again. I feel as if the time that has passed from my last visit is no time at all. Dallas and I are old friends and too close to ever truly grow apart. The familiarity will wrap itself around me as soon as I look out that airplane window and see it sprawled across the north Texas plains.



When I leave it five days later, it will break my heart again, as it has every single time; but as always, I will promise to return. For I never say goodbye to Dallas. I only ever say “Until next time, my old, good friend.”



Polla Filia,
J.F.

BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING

Yeah, I know. I didn't do what I said I was. I didn't keep up with this. **sigh** All I can say is, life intervened. So, while I get myself collected again, so I can post something better, here is a Blog Redux. Enjoy!

Oh, and I am STILL missing that Big Apple. **sigh**

NEW YORK STATE OF MIND

I am missing New York City lately. I haven’t been to the Great City in a while. As soon as I am able I will arrange a trip there, but it may be a bit. Meanwhile, here are some photos I like.

I shot all of these on two separate trips - in fall one year and in early spring in another year. The last photo of the Flatiron building in snow is not mine. It’s an old photo shot in 1920, but I just love it, so it’s here, too.

Meanwhile, click on the link below and listen to the Piano Man himself sing the song while you enjoy the photos. :)

New York State of Mind-Billy Joel

Click on the photos for a bigger view.











Polla Filia,
J.F.

SAN FRANCISCO REDUX IN PICS

I am in the midst of many things today, so I'm posting some previously unpublished photos from my trip to San Francisco in August.

These are photos of Mr. Steinbeck's resting place in Salinas,California (the flowers in the bunch with the yellow ribbon around them are from me); the Pacific Ocean from Monterey, California; and the Great Mr. Steinbeck's camper truck, Rocinante (named after Don Quixote's horse), which made the trip around the United States with him. That trip was immortalized in his non-fiction work "Travels with Charley: In Search of America". This happens to be one of my all-time faves of his.

Check out the inside of the truck. I think it is so cool he slept there as he and his dog drove all around the entire Continental United States.

Enjoy!

Click on the photo for a larger view.








Polla Filia,
J.F.

NEW YORK STATE OF MIND

I am missing New York City lately. I haven’t been to the Great City in a while. As soon as I am able I will arrange a trip there, but it may be a bit. Meanwhile, here are some photos I like.

I shot all of these on two separate trips - in fall one year and in early spring in another year. The last photo of the Flatiron building in snow is not mine. It’s an old photo shot in 1920, but I just love it, so it’s here, too.

Meanwhile, click on the link below and listen to the Piano Man himself sing the song while you enjoy the photos. :)

New York State of Mind-Billy Joel

Click on the photos for a bigger view.











Polla Filia,
J.F.