I once drove to Columbus, Ohio to catch Tom Waits for the Glitter and Doom tour. After the show, both alone and with a very long drive ahead of me, I thought I would meander around the back and join the small crowd gathered near the tour bus. Several times, a security person let us know that Tom’s bus had already gone, and there was no need to hang around. Still, in no hurry, I chose to hang around anyway. There were maybe a handful of fans, a diverse group, probably about 20. Again, we heard the story of the bus being gone. All of a sudden, we caught a glimpse of none other than Steve Buscemi exiting the bus with his wife. No kidding! Steve Buscemi!! It was hard to tell because he was quite dapper in real life. Being one of those overenthusiastic Jim Jarmusch, John Lurie-type deep fans, this was really cool to see. Waits’ son emerged with a soccer ball and started to kick it around. “He’s gone, y’all,” said the security guard. “So he left his son here?” Haha. Finally, a small, seemingly dusty man covered from head to toe in denim exited the bus. He looked way up to my 6’3″ self. I got a little hug and handshake and a “how ya doing” in that scratchy, jazz-beat sorta way. On the way home, I got turned around toward Lodi, which was about 2 hours out of my way. I didn’t care. I had that Lodi song from CCR stuck in my head for weeks.
What a shelf!
City Lights
So, yesterday, I did something that I would consider real fun. I wrapped up two copies of my book and sent them off to City Lights Bookstore. I don’t know if I will ever have an opportunity to visit the store, and I have no idea where these books will end up. I do know that, at the end of the day, my books will have traveled there, if only to have sat inside those walls for a minute or maybe a day, or maybe more. Perhaps they will end up in good hands. Perhaps they will end up where they need to be. If you are in San Francisco, a couple of copies of ‘These Americans’ will be floating around. Magic.
These Americans: Short Stories
These Americans: Short Stories is a compilation of stories that take place in the same vein as the Title Book, These Americans. Not only will it reveal storylines from familiar characters and places but it will also introduce new characters that might exist within our These Americans setting. We’ll be compiling stories until we feel we have enough to assemble and release a paperback.
What Non-Binary Means to a Middle-age Transgressive He/Him
Non-binary is a cold and scientific term, a suiting term for they/them who are clearly not human. Un-American is another good term for they/them. God forbid the freedom from need to reign champion of black/white. The freedom from having to explain it. The freedom to express oneself, however and whenever, and without boundaries. The freedom from defending oneself and defining oneself against the banging, bashing, bullying, and warped up anxiety caused not only by their, his, or her peers, but by himself, herself, or themself. Freedom. Good, ol’ un-American, freedom. Imagine not cheating oneself of any opportunity presented. Play with the fucking Barbies, play with the fucking GI Joes. Who fucking cares. You, the punk rock generation, the mods and goths and brooding fucking disco dancers. You unique fuckers should get it. You probably spent most of your youth defending it, albeit unknowingly. I hope you know this. You were defending it with that mohawk and that leather jacket and those tattoos and that nail polish. Same with you hippies and rebels without a cause. Same fucking thing. You were defending it with your long hair and sandals and peace and love mantras. Defending it with the motorcycle leathers and all those middle fingers and the “what are you rebelling against” and the “what do you got” bullshit. I was defending it with my emotions and my incredible desire to escape, unknowingly. I know this. Don’t even come at me with labels. We label everything, and I don’t fucking care. Imagine not cheating oneself out of any love. The he/her is, for some, the wall that creates the transgression. They scream from the he/her jail cell. You, he/her, you don’t have to be they/them. You are free to choose he/she, of course. For fucking America’s sake. Non-binary, a cold and scientific term. Perhaps a chemical reaction. Perhaps a chemical reaction in the heart and in the soul. If it were so, scientific. -Aaron Paul Schaut
An Unexpected Seasonal Shift
There was this one day in July when the season shifted for one day and revealed the suffering during that day that usually only reveals itself during the days or weeks or months following a normal and expected seasonal shift A person doesn’t need this shit in the middle of July.
A First Submission
Well, I’ve submitted my first short story for potential inclusion into this cool lit blog. Being my first legit submission, I am a little nervous. The plot here is pretty damn cool and was a good opportunity to step outside of my comfort zone. Whatever comes of it, I thought I should share the news here. As is my nature, I wrote the story quickly and without hesitation. When I felt it was done, it was done, and off she went. If the story doesn’t make it into their Special Presentation, I’ll post it here. It’s a fun little read regardless.
Author Shout-Out
If I haven’t yet, I’d like to shout-out to novelist, Manny Torres and his Dog Trilogy. Both the books and their author showed me that it is possible to write about the really, real. If you like great character development sugar-coated in violence, Manny’s your guy. Outcast Press is producing some really great reads that far exceed my ramblings. 😉
Book Slinging Day
Running around pitching my book to local book stores is a bit overwhelming. Huge shout out to Argos Book Shop for being the first to shelve These Americans! Shop local, support local! https://www.facebook.com/argosbookshop
Setting the Scene
When writing, I try to immerse myself into a town as much as possible, whether I’ve been there or not. I’ll drive around a town on Google Earth and watch news and videos from the area. I’ll even listen to the local radio stations over internet radio while writing the scenes. You can even get a lot of color from the ads that play on local radio or local newscasts. Usually, by the time I’m done writing scenes in that town or city, I genuinely feel like I’ve been there. I could probably walk around the area, know where to eat, what to do, and recognize a lot of the buildings and streets. It’s a trip, man. Fucking wild. *the image shown is a downtown shot from Denison, Texas which serves as Lily’s (These Americans) final stop before leaving the United States.