Tuesday, May 23, 2006 READING -- Am reading my friend Bill Gulick's autobiography, "Sixty-Four Years as a Writer." Fascinating book. It's very difficult for me to read, painfully slow, since I must use a halogen lamp, special tinted glasses and a magnifying glass while struggling to hold the book in my hands so that it's just a few inches from my face. But, I read a few pages a day. Bill has had an amazing career, starting from the pulps, working his way up to Liberty magazine, The Saturday Evening Post and other top-quality "slicks." There's so much to his life, I could devote several pages to his work, which includes theater, motion pictures, outdoor pageants and his beautiful book on the Snake River. All this with only one arm. The other fell prey to polio when he was young, but never stopped him from accomplishing his goals. CARRIER DOWN -- A few days ago I was watching the evening news when I saw a startling image of the U.S.S. Oriskany upending and sinking below the waves. My stomach turned hollow as I heard the announcer say that the ship had been blown up and sunk to form a reef. My last duty station when I was in the Navy was on the Oriskany. I felt a sense of terrible loss as I saw this valiant fighting ship die and sink to the bottom of the sea. My berth was five decks below the hanger deck, and my General Quarters station was Radio 9, the highest point on the ship's superstructure. So, when General Quarters sounded, I had to race up five decks to the hangar deck, then to the flight deck, then up into the superstructure to Radio 9. When I got there, I was exhausted and out of breath. Had these alarms been genuine and we had engaged in battle, I would have been a useless hulk. Seeing the Oriskany go down like that, I felt not only an incredible sense of loss, but a deep sadness that such a great ship, one that John McCain had served on as a pilot, would no longer sail the sea. I spent a lot of time on the flight deck, watching the jets take off and land. At night, these takeoffs were an eerie sight, as if I was part of some science-fiction movie. The heat from their engines wafted over me as I stood next to the superstructure and behind the screen that shunted the exhaust off the starboard deck. And, sometimes at night, when the planes were not flying, I'd stand on the fantail and watch the bubbling waters of our wake shining with a magical green phosphorescence, and look up to the stars, lost in that mysterious and magical moment when time seemed to stand still. At such times, I felt that the entire universe was all just one thing and I was a speck of a soul out there with the sea and the sky, caught up in the wonder of life itself. BRANSON -- We drove up to Branson for the OWL (Ozarks Writers League) meeting. We went a day early so that I could visit some bookstores. I was able to place THE SADNESS OF AUTUMN in the Ozarks Mountaineer Bookstore, now situated in Engler's Block on Country Music Boulevard, and was asked to do a book signing there. I said I could probably come up in August. An attractive young lady, Avis Seay, started off with an order of 12 copies. Charlote and I then went to T. Charleston and Sons, next to the Grand Palace Hotel, where I met the new owner, Liz Bilbo, and she took 6 books and asked if I would do a signing. When I said August, she agreed. So, we might do signings at both bookstores later this year. I told Liz that I had done many signings there since its opening. Those are two key bookstores in Branson. Both Liz and Avis had me sign all the copies we left there, so I'm hoping they'll sell out and reorder. WRITING -- On the way back to Branson from Springfield, we stopped off in Ozark to go through our storage facility there. It's loaded with tons of books and manuscripts, far too many to handle in a short time. I was looking for short stories that I could use in a collection of western stories I'm putting together. Didn't find any, but Charlotte found two heavy boxes of photographs, and I took a book on the American Desert and ran across TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA, by Richard Brautigan. He and I were friends in my San Francisco North Beach days, often walked the city together so that he could admire the Victorian houses. That book brought back a lot of memories. I remembered when Donald Allen, then an editor at Grove Press, came to San Francisco from New York and talked to a number of us poets. He signed up Richard. Richard gave me signed copies of his books of poetry, THE GALILEE HITCHHIKER and LAY THE MARBLE TEA, which were later stolen from me. Back home here in Texas, I remembered I had started writing a book about those heady days in North Beach and had an overwhelming urge to get back to it. So, I brought up the files on my computer and saw that I had outlined the entire book, written an introduction and a first chapter. I want to finish the book, bring back to life all those I knew back in the late 50s and early 60s. It's not an autobiography, but I'm using the real names of those I met and knew there when I was first publishing my poetry and doing readings at The Cellar, the Coffee Gallery, the Fox & The Hound and other places. Richard's book was dedicated to Ron Loewensohn and Jack Spicer, both of whom I also knew. Meanwhile, I'm writing the second novel in THE SAVAGE GUN series for Berkley, pecking away at my play, THE LAST GUNFIGHT, which needs major revisions, and putting together the research and storyline for a mystery series set in Branson. And, I finished a new short story last week, or the week before, and am well into another while trying to figure out how to steal time to write all these things. I have the feeling that I left some projects out of this account. My desk is stacked high with manila folders that I dare not examine for fear I'll neglect the writing of the book at hand and miss my deadline. AMAZON SHORTS -- Although I have 4 short stories currently on sale at amazon.com, I don't know how the downloads are going. But, I believe it's a good way to advertise those books of mine currently on sale at Amazon. I'm curious to find out if people are still reading short stories. I am. I love them, and I'm writing them once again. STORY A MONTH -- I now have 19 subscribers to my Story A Month feature on www.help4writers.com. That's a fair start. I asked Bruce Holland Rogers about how he got started with his short short subscriptions and he said they started slow. But, people began to buy gift subscriptions for friends and relatives so that he built up his list to a high number. He has raised his price for his short shorts, but mine are still $6.00 a year, and I send out a new, unpublished story each month. PUBLISHING -- The western publishing situation continues to worsen. Some publishers are slowing down even more, delaying the renewal of contracts for up to six months or more. This is no way to run a railroad. I finished all 3 books in the VIGILANTE series for Berkley and was hoping, after delivery and acceptance of Book 3, that Berkley would renew the contract for three more books. I had big plans for the Vigilante. But, no, they set off a decision for 6 months. That's too long to wait between books in a series. Interest is sure to die out in that time, and it would be difficult to recapture those faithful readers who went on to other reading matter, figuring the series had ended. So, I am not going to ride that horse much longer. I will complete my present contracts for western novels, then go on to other genres, including literary, mainstream and mysteries. So be it. Good fortune to you all. Keep writing, and keep reading. Jory Sherman