Tag: Jock Stewart

Alligators, bullies and becoming a writer

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn writing6 Comments

My life began at a Gulf Oil Service Station at Immokalee, Florida, back in the days when the attendants came out with a whisk broom and swept the beach sand out of your car while they pumped your gas for you.

Papa at work
Word is, I was swept out of the back seat of our 1949 Nash even though I didn’t look like beach sand. Since authorities were certain that even though I was an ugly five-week-old baby, somebody would claim me sooner or later, they put me in the service station window with a sign that said IS THIS YOUR BABY?

An aging alligator couple took pity on me and raised me as one of their own. They taught me to swim and they taught me to lurk in the water with only my eyes showing so that I could grab hapless ducks in my teeth and bring them home for Duck a la Orange.

Mugsy Walters Requesting Lunch Money
When I got to high school, playground bullies made fun of my swamp dialect and taunted me with phrases like “see you later alligator” and “after while crocodile.” That’s what they said after they stole my lunch money.

Papa Gator said, “Son, you’re never going to bring home the bacon with your teeth like your brothers and sisters. You’re going to have to use your wits.” That advice has served me well.

I convinced the playground bullies of several truths: (1) When I grew up, I was going to be a famous writer and would put all of them in my books for better or worse, (2) Looking good in a novel was a good way to pick up chicks, something they needed to think about since their teeth weren’t large enough to grab anyone at the prom, (3) Papa Gator knew where they lived.

No doubt, truth number one (1) got their attention; that, along with my weekly column in the school newspaper called “Alligator Alley Gossip.” Everybody read it, but nobody wanted to be in it: Is that hickey on a certain red-haired girl’s neck a true love bite or did somebody forget their lunch again? Once again, a lover’s lane romeo with the initials W. S. forgot the distinction between “Jail Bait” and “Gator Bait.” Note to S. T.: old lady Anderson doesn’t keep the test answers in her drawers any more.


The world has moved on from the Immokalee I once knew. The Gulf Oil Station was torn down years ago. Seaboard closed down the rail line. Most of the gators, including many who still remember my name, have retreated deeper into the swamps. And now, the people coming to town aren’t there for the fishing, but for the Zig Zag Girlz Blackjack at the Seminole Casino.

The basic truth comes down to this. If you can’t earn a living with your teeth, you need to go out and find an occupation that fits your station in life, one that honors how you were brought up. Even those who don’t know my first adult meal was a pine warbler on toast or that I still make slaw with swamp cabbage, walk carefully around any writer who just might put them in his books.

Papa Gator would be proud.

Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of the comedy/thriller novel “Jock Stewart and the Missing Sea of Fire,” a novel where poor Jimmy Pew met up with Papa Gator and became a believer.

Pied Type Doesn’t Have a Flaky Crust

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn books

Job Case Photo by Heather on Flickr
The title of this post comes from my novel “Jock Stewart and the Missing Sea of Fire.” For better or worse, it’s a play on words. In this case, “pied” has nothing to do with the apple and cherry pies grandma used to make.

The term “pied type” refers to handset type that’s been dropped on the floor, scattering in a mess.

Handset type was stored by font in a California Job Case, a removable drawer in a cabinet. The letters were arranged in the case in order of their frequency of use. Printers created words, one letter at a time in a composing stick–a small hand-held tray which the typesetter viewed upside down. (The Linotype did this automatically, one line at a time–quite a time savings)

When the typesetter finished a column or part of a column, he tied the type tightly together with string and then transferred it to a form to be mounted on the press. If he dropped it, he said he had pied his type. “Pi” or “Pie” type refers to mixed up stuff whether it’s a dropped block of type or pieces of the wrong font mixed up in a job case.

Handset type was still prevalent enough in the late 1960s that my journalism course work included a printing class in which we were all trained to set type this way. Years later, I would still find some printers–especially those doing formal invitations on small platen presses–to be setting type in a stick and letting lose with a lot of profanity whenever the type got pied.

Malcolm

Transport Canada Bans People on Flights to U.S.

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Humor2 Comments

Ottawa, January 5, 2010–As a result of a terrorist incident on Northwest Flight 253 from Amsterdam to Detroit, Transport Canada has decided to ban persons, individuals, people, creatures and living things of all kinds to provide for the well-being of air travel and all of those enjoying air services thereof.

“The total lunacy of our approach will prove itself in the long term,” said Transport Minister Baird Johnson. “We began by banning books and other dangerous objects. That was a first step. Further testing has indicated–as an American might say–books don’t kill people, people kill people.”

According to informed sources, the inconvenience of the new regulations will be offset by the benefits. Experts say that once people are removed from the equation, air travel will become so safe that when a plane occasionally falls out of the sky, nobody will be there to hear it, rendering the moment soundless.

U.S. officials are considering shutting down the Transportation Security Administration, a cost savings that many believe will completely erase the national debt.

Security Tsar Jim Bob Smith noted, with a gleam in his one eye and a spring in his step, that “planes are now going to be flying on time, every time without the needless security delays we’ve tolerated for the past nine years.”

“Après la pluie le beau temps,” Johnson added, using an old proverb to succinctly say that knives will soon be banned from kitchens, fire from the hearths, and cars from the roads in an attempt to make life so safe, it will no longer be worth living.”

Air travelers who first heard of the new regulations approached security check points on both sides of the US/Canadian border with their mouths agape, whereupon they were taken away for their threatening show of teeth.

-30-

From the Morning Satirical News

The Thirteen Days of Christmas

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn writing2 Comments

On the first day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
A cartridge for my shot gun.

On the second day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the third day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the fourth day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Four calling cards,
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the fifth day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Five beholden kings,
Four calling cards,
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the sixth day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Six hounds a-baying,
Five beholden kings,
Four calling cards,
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Seven mugs a-brimming,
Six hounds a-baying,
Five beholden kings,
Four calling cards,
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the eighth day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Eight aides a-bilking,
Seven mugs a-brimming,
Six hounds a-baying,
Five beholden kings,
Four calling cards,
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the ninth day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Nine caddies prancing,
Eight aides a-bilking,
Seven mugs a-brimming,
Six hounds a-baying,
Five beholden kings,
Four calling cards,
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the tenth day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Ten hordes a-pillaging,
Nine caddies prancing,
Eight aides a-bilking
Seven mugs a-brimming
Six hounds a-baying,
Five beholden kings,
Four calling cards,
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Eleven gripers pissing,
Ten hordes a-pillaging,
Nine caddies prancing,
Eight aides a-bilking,
Seven mugs a-brimming
Six hounds a-baying,
Five beholden kings,
Four calling cards,
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
Twelve grenades with pins a-missing,
Eleven gripers pissing,
Ten hordes a-pillaging,
Nine caddies prancing,
Eight aides a-bilking,
Seven mugs a-brimming
Six hounds a-baying,
Five beholden kings,
Four calling cards,
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

On the thirteenth day of Christmas,
My true love sent me for fun
A baker’s dozen epiphanies,
Twelve grenades with pins a-missing,
Eleven gripers pissing,
Ten hordes a-pillaging,
Nine caddies prancing,
Eight aides a-bilking,
Seven mugs a-brimming,
Six hounds a-baying,
Five beholden kings,
Four calling cards,
Three French kisses,
Two Victoria’s secrets,
And a cartridge for my shot gun.

–Jock Stewart
–
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Hello North Georgia Readers

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn books

I’m happy to announce that “Jock Stewart and the Missing Sea of Fire” and “The Sun Singer” are both available at the Bookstand of Northeast Georgia in Commerce.

For those of you traveling through the area, that’s at exit 149 on I-85 about 60 miles north of Atlanta.

This bookstore is well organized with hundreds and hundreds of books grouped into easy-to-find categories. Great prices on used books! My books join some other cool books on the LOCAL AUTHORS shelf just a few feet past the register.

The store is on Pottery Factory Drive in Commerce Crossing shopping center, just across the parking lot from OUTBACK STEAK HOUSE.

Buy the book, then read it with a glass of Black Opal Cabernet while waiting for your dinner.

bookstand

When Did the Realization “I Am an Author” Hit?

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn books6 Comments

Author Pat Bertram (“More Deaths Than One” and “A Spark of Heavenly Fire”) wrote a post with this same title today. She’s been assisting her publisher, Second Wind, with projects while working on pre-publication publicity for “Daughter Am I” and on edits for “Light Bringer.” So today, the realization it: She feels like an author.

I left a comment on her post, saying that I felt more like a writer when I worked as a corporate communications director and a technical writer than I do now. Partly, that was because my work produced an income that made a difference to my family’s financial well being. Now, I can’t say that. On some days, I feel like writing is a very expensive hobby and I look at Pat Conroy who’s two years younger than I with another bestselling novel and I think, “there’s an author.” Most authors, though, remain obscure.

Many traditionally published books sell a thousand copies or less; most self-published books sell a hundred copies or less. The income produced is less than publicity costs. Hence, it becomes easy to say writing is a hobby–like having aquariums all over the house, a dozen stamp albums in the den, or a huge model train layout in the basement–because it uses up income while producing many interesting hours rather than paying the rent.

Yes, I am an author. Yes, I enjoy writing, planning novels, doing reviews, posting here on this web log, researching new project ideas, and keeping up with the profession. Yet, the reality of being an author is so much different than I expected when I looked ahead to my career when I was in high school. And, I think it’s probably a lot different than the public believes as well. For the public, if they’ve heard of you, you’re and author. If they haven’t, you’re not. The public is very blunt about whether one is or isn’t what he claims to be.

It comes down to self-satisfaction, then, being happy with what one is doing and feeling that the output, however obscure, is also what he is supposed to be doing. We all hope our books reach readers who will enjoy them and who might also derive value from them. But we’re seldom omniscient enough to know when and where that happens.

But we keep writing because–in our warped imagination–there’s no better way for us to spend our lives.

Malcolm

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A Good Day for a Smile

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn books2 Comments

Nora Roberts sells 21 books every minute. When you go to her website, you’ll find all of her titles are available in an Excel spreadsheet. 160 of her books have been New York Times bestsellers. After all these years and all these books, I wonder if she still feels a sense of excitement and adventure on the day each new novel is listed on Amazon. On each book’s official release date, does she sit back in an easy chair, smile and enjoy the experience?

SeaCoverMy second novel, Jock Stewart and the Missing Sea of Fire, was listed there yesterday. Exhausted from non-stop proofreading, I didn’t notice the listing until late in the evening and the book’s description hadn’t appeared yet. It’s there now and yes, it does make me smile–partly because it’s there, partly because my Jock Stewart character is so off the wall, I can’t help but be amused at the antics he gets away with while following truth, journalism and the evil-doers who stole the mayor’s racehorse and killed his publisher’s girl friend.

Writing is an adventure that unfolds in the quiet of an author’s den. My den’s a mess and I have no clue where anything is. I’m the hermit of a room lined with books, some by Ms. Roberts and dozens of other authors whose work has also contributed to my on-going education. It’s nice, though, to step outside the solitude once in a while and see what’s going on in the world past my horizon of books. Seeing one’s book listed on Amazon is a perfect excuse.

I have a smile on my face today. When you read the book, I hope you will, too.

Real journalists vs. great targets for satire

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn books2 Comments

I am often critical of journalists. That’s because my father was a journalist and journalism educator, and I heard a lot from him while I was growing up how real journalists ought to approach the skills and ethics of their profession

HowToReportSeveral years ago, I accepted a posthumously awarded press association award on behalf of my father, Laurence R. Campbell (1903-1987). Standing up there in front of a room full of veteran student publications advisers, a few of whom were once my father’s students, I wondered how a writer who didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps could possibly connect with the audience.

All I knew to say was: “I worked as a college journalism instructor and student publications adviser for three years. I have to tell you that I felt like I was on a runaway horse.”

They knew what I meant. My father spent his life training others to be real journalists. He wrote hundreds of trade publication articles, ran summer journalism institutes and authored or co-authored numerous textbooks. The advisers attending that Florida scholastic Press Association convention in Tampa knew these books better than I even though I was there when Dad wrote them. I think, though, that I connected with the luncheon audience that day because, while I was an outsider, I cared a great deal about the profession.

SeaOfFireCoverWith my novel Jock Stewart and the Missing Sea of Fire coming out this summer from Vanilla Heart Publishing, I’m still an outsider looking into a world my father knew so well. My novel is a thriller with a lot of satire and comedy in it. To some extent, I’m satirizing the journalism profession and to some extent, I’m satirizing some of the pretentious people who make the news.

If I didn’t care, I couldn’t write the satire. I’m not a real journalist, but I know what one looks like and how he or she ought to act. For me, it was a real hoot poking fun at those who don’t live up to my expectations. I think my father would understand.

Copyright (c) 2009 by Malcolm R. Campbell

Bookstore Owner Subdues Robber with Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn satire2 Comments

Junction City, May 29, 2009–When Moe Anderson walked into the Main Street Book Emporium at high noon yesterday with a SIG SAUER P238 pistol in his pocket and robbery in his heart, he expected to leave with all the money in the cash drawer.

Jim Exlibris, owner of Main Street Book Emporium, believes dead hearing-aid batteries and author Susanna Clarke saved him a lot of money.

“I was waiting on a customer at the main register during the lunch hour when a man came in shouting, ‘wash up, wash up,'” said Exlibris. “The guy pointed to a bulge in the front of his trousers and held up his hands, so I assumed he needed our restroom at the back of the store.”

According to Maud Lukins, who was purchasing a hard cover copy of of Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Starnge and Mr. Norrell for her grandson Arnie’s 15th birthday, the book store owner was obviously “deaf as a post” even though he was wearing two, $3,500 hearing aids from a name brand company.

“That rude, scrawny little guy who burst in and interrupted my purchase wasn’t happy to see me at all,” said Lukins. “He really did have a gun in his pocket and was saying ‘hands up.’ Even though I felt utterly discounted, I had the presence of mind to scream and that got Jim’s attention.”

Exlibris told police, who responded from the doughnut shop after the emergency was over, that Anderson became frustrated by the lack of personal attention and attempted to pull the gun out of his pocket, but it got stuck and went off.

“The thing made a horrible noise and I thought we were about to be dead,” said Lukins. “That’s when Jim picked up Arnie’s beautiful birthday book and threw it against Anderson’s head. Anderson was knocked out cold.”

Chief Kruller said Anderson didn’t hurt anyone because he was “shooting blanks.” Known to police across Texas as the bookstore bandit, Anderson’s “success” is purportedly based on intimidation rather than violence.

“If my hearing aid batteries had been working, I would have understood the guy, handed him a wad of money and then over charged old lady Lukins and the rest of my loyal customers to offset the negative cash flow,” Exlibris said. “Praise the Lord for Ms. Clarke’s 326,729 words and her 2.9-pound novel.”

Police ballistic experts claim that had Exlibris tried to subdue Anderson with a light-weight Silhouette romance, the bandit would still be at large.

from Morning Satirical News

–

Coming soon, from Vanilla Heart Publishing: “Jock Stewart and the Missing Sea of Fire,” a novel by Malcolm R. Campbell.

Another Novel Makes the Rounds

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn books, fiction2 Comments

I knew when I completed GARDEN OF HEAVEN in March, 2008, that a 240,000-word novel by a relative unknown would be a hard sell. Nonetheless, I will continue trying to sell it.

However, I’m turning my immediate attention on a 60,000-word novel called JOCK STEWART AND THE MISSING SEA OF FIRE that began making the rounds this week. Those of you who have chanced by my Morning Satirical News weblog have already met the main character: he bills himself as a hard-boiled reporter for the Junction City Star-Gazer of the kind seen in Hollywood’s noir movies of the 1940s and 1950s.

Whereas “Morning Satirical News” takes a gallows-humor look at real issues, the novel finds Jock–and some of the recurring fictional characters from the blog–trying to track down who stole the Mayor’s prized racehorse Sea of Fire and who killed the Star-Gazer publisher’s prized girl friend Bambi Hill.

I’m classifying the book as humor. Now, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that a prospective publisher also thinks it’s funny.