No Blindfold

My novel, “PARACHUTES NOT INCLUDED,” examines the acceleration of the human condition that aging entails, and as if that weren’t stuffy enough, at 54, 800 words the story isn’t a reliable roach killer.* Three aging couples are depicted in PARACHUTES NOT INCLUDED.” Two of the couples are interracial and one couple is gay, for a total of six characters in one short novel. Each portrayal requires precision and depth, else the book will be superficial. Luckily—thumps chest and toots own horn—I’m a Kung Fu Writer,** and “PARACHUTES NOT INCLUDED” delivers a rompish*** ride.

(A URL to Amazon and buying:Parachutes Not Included is: www.Amazon.com. Then at the top of the page, in the Search Bar, type in “Parachutes Not Included.”. Supposedly, I’m a high IQ person. I say supposedly because an “easy” tutorial on creating a hyperlink is over my head. (A cut-and-paste job,,supposedly.) But I asked a tech person, a computer prof at a college, to supply my blog with a link and a two-step URL is what I got. (Sorry, kids). So maybe, just maybe, creating a hyperlink is not so “easy.” (A cut and paste job—-again, supposedly) Or is explaining the creation of a hyperlink too difficult for most of those, who already know how, to difficult to explain in simple terms. Maybe it’s l too easy if you know how. Whatever, because when i click the link icon what I get does not match the example. ( So., happy trails—-not.) BTW, I know how to highlight, cut, paste. So., happy trails—-not.) BTW, I know how to highlight, cut, paste, and perform other basic computer skills.

I realize that my previous, first paragraph, assertion (before my “hyperlink” commentary) comes off as grandiose, but before you conclude that I’m arrogant, delusional, or just a self-aggrandizing A-hole consider the double standard involved, how our culture requires that an artist strike an aw-shucks, hat-in-hand pose. Whether this display of modesty is genuine or fake, artists of every stripe are expected to blush and tap dance as fast as they figuratively can. They are to have no definitive opinion, as to the worth of their own labors. Yet any businessperson may pound the table, so to speak, with uninhibited gusto as to the alleged superiority of their product. This is viewed as normal behavior because we expect a businessperson to sell, sell, sell—however obnoxiously.

Not that I feel like pounding a table, or otherwise sticking a feather in my metaphorical cap. Like many people, I’d rather the world politely applauded my efforts, and leave me the hell alone. (It’s possible that I’m a modest person. It’s possible that the circumstances of my life have encouraged me to become quiet and unassuming. An introvert, but in my youth, I was sometimes a swaggering, hail-fellow-well-met kind of guy. I used to greet strangers with an openhearted friendliness. I even sang in public accompanied by my guitar.

In retrospect, I realize that my public serenades were foolish, my guitar playing amateurish, and my singing intolerable. And nowadays, I’m just another self-published novelist, an accomplishment that dubiously qualifies me as a writer and a businessperson. Like it or not, it’s now my job to sell the book I wrote. And while it’s bad form for a writer (even a would-be one) to talk positively about his or her book , it’s okay to solicit testimonials from strangers—-aka reviews. Here’s hoping they’re wonderful. But if they’re not, I’ll live. As they say.

The origins of “PARACHUTES NOT INCLUDED” can be traced back to several late-night drinking sessions with my grandfather. The man kept his past under his hat, but halfway down a fifth of scotch, his hair would catch fire, and he would talk of true love and heartbreak. Boy loses girl was his theme, and some themes are timeless.

In the creation of “PARACHUTES NOT INCLUDED,” I encountered welcome tangents, but the story-line stayed true to my grandfather’s memory. Also, I was influenced by a movie about a sex pioneer. The movie was called, “THE KINSEY REPORT.” The movie made me want to read the book responsible for its birth. And when I did, I learned that, as a person ages, it’s not that unusual for a male heterosexual to become a homosexual. Upheaval galore, I assume.  Accordingly, I created a male character for my story that explores the dramatic potential of an unexpected and fundamental change in his sexual orientation. Talk about confusing!

Extra-Terse Synopsis: ANGIE & GORDON have been married forever. Enter OSCAR, Angie’s true love from yesteryear. An ex-musician and lapsed Buddhist, Oscar is motivated by an unexpressed, but dire need for human connection. Time has wilted the rose in his teeth, and though his intentions are platonic, his timing is sexy, as Oscar picked a very vulnerable moment to reappear out of the uninvited blue, as Gordon, of late, has been secretly eyeing the guys, and Angie is feeling her years.    

FOOTNOTES:

(Roach killer*): Recently coined literary terminology, connoting a book, whose heft, when correctly applied, will crush a creepy-crawly’s carapace to reveal the fatal yellow custard. Thus, “WAR AND PEACE,” “WEBSTER’S NEW AND UNABRIDGED DICTIONARY,” “GONE WITH THE WIND,” and “CHUBBY’’S COOKBOOK,” and are state-of-the-art tools in the roach-control business.

(Kung Fu Writer**): Lately, in lieu of watching ice cubes melt, I’ve dialed up “MARCO POLO” on TV. Of special note, is the character of the blind monk, a martial arts expert, who informs Mr. Polo that the term, Kung Fu, may apply to any walk of life, because, “Kung Fu entails the hard work of endless repetition.” Hence, I am a Kung Fu Writer, as I have lost count of how many edits of “PARACHUTES NOT INCLUDED” that I have made.

(Rompish***): A shameless example of the ongoing morphology of the English language.