I read the post to Studly last night, and he found it amusing, but inaccurate. The quote I’d attributed to his old friend, Alan (Allen?) had instead been spoken by one of his coaching mentors, Gabby Hays, who’d told him, “Boy, don’t ever get in too big a hurry to lose.”
I stand corrected. I still like the quote I misremember better.
Years ago, back when Studly Doright was a competitive racquetball player, his primary nemesis on the courts was a guy named Alan (maybe spelled Allen, I don’t recall). Alan was an experienced racquetball player, and the best in our mid-sized Texas town, long before Studly began playing the game, and for years beating Alan at racquetball was Studly’s primary goal.
Now, Studly has always been a competitive soul, and at one time he was quite the athlete. Before long he and Alan were frequently in contention for the city championship. I forget which man ended up with the most first place trophies, but I do believe it was the love of my life. That would be Studly, not Alan.
Alan was, and likely still is, a hoot. He could psyche Studly out before, during, and after a racquetball match, and that was no easy feat. Of course, Studly could give as good as he got. Even when they weren’t on the court, the two played constant mind games on each other.
One day about a week before the city championship, Alan showed up at our home unexpectedly. Studly answered the door invited Alan back to the den where I was sitting on the sofa folding laundry. I had on my workout clothes, no makeup, and my hair was still wet from the shower. Immediately upon seeing me sitting there, Alan exclaimed, “Leslie, until this moment I never realized what a beauty you are!”
This declaration was definitely aimed at unnerving Studly before the big tournament, but for just a second I blushed like a teenager. Alan went on to praise my burgeoning skills in the racquetball court before leaving me with a few words of advice: “Never be in too big a hurry to win or to lose.”
I recalled Alan’s saying today when I realized that I’d been in such a hurry to finish my novel that I’d written a bunch of crap in the last two thousand words or so. What to do? I’ll chunk those words into my “slush” file and try again. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to take that action, but hopefully the last time. For this novel, anyway.
Normally Scout can be found acting as Studly Doright’s home office co-worker, and I have to work alone. We’ve decided she’s the head of Human Resources here at Doright Manor, and considers Studly to be more of an HR problem than I am.
Today, though, she’s been supervising my work. I’m not sure if it’s because she knows I’m coming to the end of the novel I’m writing and is trying to encourage me, or if she’s making sure I don’t slack off. Either way, she’s been sitting and staring at me for a good fifteen minutes. It’s kind of freaking me out.
Several of my readers asked for a follow up post about yesterday’s book club meeting, and I’m happy to oblige. For those unfamiliar with yesterday’s post, here’s the link:
This was my first Zoom experience, and for the most part the technology worked well. A couple of those attending experienced technical difficulties, and I know that was frustrating for them.
I believe there were nine of us in the meeting, and it truly was an international experience with one attendee from England and another from France. The U.S. was represented by folks from Texas, New Mexico, Oregon, Idaho, and Florida. Due to the time differences, some folks were enjoying a glass of wine while we met, while others were still savoring their morning cups of coffee. Me, being in the middle joined the wine drinkers, of course.
Opinions on the book, Infield by Téa Obreht were mixed. The story tended to appeal most to those of us who’d grown up in the Southwest. The themes of thirst and need certainly resonated with me. It’s not light reading, by any means.
But—there are camels in Infield. And who doesn’t love camels? A very small portion of the book is set in Camp Verde, Texas. Several years ago Studly Doright and I were staying in Kerrville, Texas, with a group of our motorcycling friends. The men left early one morning to enjoy riding the sweeping curves of the Texas Hill Country at speeds that make me shudder, while three of us women set off on our own slower paced ride.
It was my day to lead, and I hate being the leader, but I took my turn without too much grumbling. We had no destination in mind that day, so I just headed south. We hadn’t gone more than about 19 miles when I thought I’d begun hallucinating, for in the near distance stood a camel calmly grazing. There was a sign posted that read “Camp Verde” and another for a general store, so I made an executive decision and turned left into the parking lot.
My friends and I spent the entire morning at the General Store, shopping, having lunch, and learning about the Camel Corps.
It seems I got sidetracked on my book club report, but I’d recommend this method of meeting if your group is jonesing to get together. I’m not very savvy when it comes to technology, but I was able to join the meeting with ease. I did keep forgetting to mute my mic when others were talking. Next time I’ll put a sticky note on my computer to remind me.
Studly Doright had an awful day yesterday (Friday). All day long he was on one conference call after another trying to make a bad situation better, soothing troubled waters, and solving problems. He’s good at all three. Finally toward the end of the day things calmed down and he could breathe easier.
We watched an episode of Ozark. Okay, we watched two episodes—the final episode of season two and the first of season three. The darned series is addictive.
On our way to bed last night Studly told me he’d take me out for dinner on Saturday. So now I’m wondering, will we eat at Kentucky Fried Chrysler 200 tonight or Pizza Hut Dodge Ram? Maybe we’ll go somewhere fancy, like Chez Lincoln Nautilus. Whichever he chooses, I cannot wait.
In the middle of the night I woke up and instantly began thinking about my novel. At 65,000 plus words, I can begin working out the specifics of reaching the finish line. But at 2 a.m. I panicked a bit. Maybe the whole thing was crap and I’d wasted hours of my time working on it.
Figuratively, at this point in the novel my characters were in calm waters—way too calm to keep a reader’s interest. I tossed and turned for an hour or so trying to figure out how to get their ships under sail again before I finally got out of bed to take a couple of Tylenol PM. Eventually I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until 7:30.
Studly Doright was already at work in his office across the hall from our bedroom when I stumbled into the kitchen to start a kettle boiling for my morning tea. My mind had already begun gnawing on the issue of the literary doldrums again, but still no resolution was forthcoming.
Then, as the kettle whistled, I recalled a recent conversation I’d had with my friend, Flo, who also writes but is way more observant than I am. I’d shared with her a problem I was having getting my characters to move. She told me to think about what happens in a soap opera when there’s a lull in the action: there’s a knock on the door or the phone rings or a letter arrives in the mail. Yes!
The phone is ringing. The characters are reacting. The sails are full, and I have a bridge to the end. Hallelujah! Can I get an amen?
Studly Doright never thinks to take “before” pictures of his projects, and if it weren’t for me, there’d seldom be “after” photos, and that’s a shame. He does good work.
Studly has a fondness for rebuilding bikes from his past, and here’s his latest finished product. Trust me when I say it was pretty ragged when he first brought it home.
I forgot to ask him what year model this is, and he’s out riding it now, but I believe it’s an ‘83 model, XS650 Heritage Special. He’s done a complete overhaul on the engine, and did all of the detail work himself with only a little help from me—occasionally I had to shine a light into a dark crevice or hand him a tool so he didn’t have to get up from his work bench.
It’s great that he’s finished, except that now he’ll be jonesing for a new project. Maybe he’ll let me take the “before” photos this time.
I took a day off from working on the novel; however, I did read an excerpt from it to Studly Doright to see if it affected him as it did me. I’m happy to say he cried. Yay! Mission accomplished.
Instead of writing anything at all today I took the lazy way out and shared something from several years ago, when I was happily planning a trip to Guatemala for my niece’s wedding. I hope you’ll click on the link. Thanks, and peace, people.
Praying for Eyebrowz 