In one of his books (LAKE WOBEGON DAYS, I think), Garrison Keillor writes about losing during a journey on a train the only existing manuscript of the greatest novel he ever wrote.
Stephen King, in the novel (and film version) of MISERY, has a protagonist whose peculiar idiosyncrasy is that he never makes a back up copy of a completed manuscript; and then, of course, he gets to watch, in misery, ahem, as the sadistic Annie Wilkes destroys that solitary copy of his greatest work before his very eyes.
Indeed, it was a common fear among writers of yore that one might lose the lone existing copy of one's magnum opus.
Ah, the tragedy.
Subsequently, one would sorely tax one's brain to produce a replacement version that would always feel inferior compared to the memory of the brilliantly penned and tragically lost epic. Even if the replacement work when published garnered bucket loads of acclaim and awards, one would always feel that it was not really nearly as good as the one that was lost.
But that was back in the day of pencil and pen and that marvel of technological antiquity, the typewriter. Writers today live in the modern age--the age of the computer with its revolutionary abilities to print flawless copy on a laser printer, send said copy to various remote regions for safekeeping via email, and create infinite back up duplicates of said copy on the computer's hard drive and whatever portable external devices one sees fit to fill with the precious and brilliant literary masterpiece.
That being said, this weekend past I nevertheless lost a precious bit of writing.
I had been laboring with this manuscript for nigh unto three years when finally last Sunday morning around 5:00 a.m. I awakened to find that I knew how to make the story work.
So I rose from my bed, opened the most recent draft of the story, and began to type. I typed until about five in the afternoon--12 solid hours of corrections, additions, cuts, and tweaks.
Just before I took a break, for about an hour I scrolled through the work, smiling as I appraised some of the changes I had made and the new passages I had written.
I saved the document. Then I took a ten minute break.
When I returned to the computer, I noticed immediately that there was no evidence of the manuscript on the desktop, where I had saved it. Not a problem.
I clicked on "recent documents" in the menu, and there was the file. Let's call it "Cop Novel" for sake of clarity.
When I clicked on "Cop Novel," a message came up that read "extension not found," or something like that.
I was confused. Where was this novel that I had worked on all morning? Where were all of the edits, corrections, cuts, and additions I had made?
The only thing that I could find was the old version of "Cop Novel" before my edits of the past half day.
I tried everything that I knew how to do to recover the document, but I produced no results save that annoying message. "Extension not found."
A week of futility followed.
I contacted a friend who always bails me out of computer trouble and he suggested I try the "System Restore" command.
That didn't work.
Another friend loaned me a copy of something called "Undelete-Plus."
That didn't work.
Everyone I contacted suggested something to try, but everything I tried failed.
Nothing worked.
Finally, I decided that my only way out of this is to open the old draft of the novel (before the edits), and wrack my brain to produce a replacement version that will no doubt feel inferior compared to that brilliantly penned and tragically unrecoverable epic I recall with such fondness and awe.
Thanks,
Preston
p.s.
In a way, this might be a good thing. I recall that when I was in college, one of my composition professors had us do an exercise that involved our writing a set of essays, reading them out loud, commenting on them, and then her collecting them and throwing them unceremoniously into the trash. "This weekend," she said, "I want you to write the essay again, but make it better than you did last time."
We groaned as we left the class, but the essays we turned in the next week were brilliant compared to the ones the professor had tossed in the trash. We know this because she hadn't actually discarded them, but had waited until we left the room before retrieving them.
Ultimately she gave back both papers so that we could see the difference between our weak (though beloved) discarded draft, and the much improved draft that we had crafted from memory.
I am heartened by the memory of this exercise.
February 5, 2010
January 29, 2010
My Supernatural Novel
I have four questions, actually.
Thanks,
H.W.
Q: I am writing a novel (of a supernatural nature), and I was wondering whether I should use a real place as the setting, or continue with the made-up realistic city that I have been using since the start of the book. I’ve read in various places that it’s best to use a real place, but should I really do that? I created the city in order to create a problem for my protagonist, who is supposed to be struggling a bit with racial issues in her community. She herself is of two ethnicities, Caucasian and Hispanic, and I thought it might be interesting to have her struggle with this fact in her high school and her community. I didn't want to set it in the past, and I didn't want it to be in the countryside or something. So, should I pull a J.K. Rowling, and use my imaginary place?
A: One of the great things about being a writer is that we get to make up worlds that do not but maybe should exist, and truth be told, whether we set our story in a made-up world or right down here on on our good old terra firma, we are creating a new world. At the beginning of my first novel, HOOCHIE MAMA, which is set in Opa-Locka, I posted the disclaimer that pretty much all writers post: "This is a work of fiction and it is set in the Opa-Locka of the writer's mind." You are an extremely creative and inventive person and I, personally, would love to see a book of yours set in a world you created. I think you would be good at it, and furthermore, you would be able to make controversial comments about this present world more honestly through the disguise of that artificial world. Sort of like Gulliver's Travels.
Q: Would it be a good idea to end the novel with a cliff hanger as Tolkien does in The Hobbit?
A: No. Not unless you have a real good reason to do so. People want to read a novel that is a complete work. A sequel is one thing, but to leave parts of it unwritten so that we are forced to buy a second book just to see how the first book ends is blatantly unfair. James Patterson did that in ROSES ARE RED and its follow up book VIOLETS ARE BLUE. I felt deceived as a reader. It felt like a sneaky way to get me to buy two short, incomplete novels, instead of one long complete novel. Furthermore, I don't understand your example. THE HOBBIT is a complete novel and has no cliff hanger at the end. Bilbo has his resolution. The book is done--fini-complete--but the LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RINGS is a new story about Bilbo's nephew Frodo and his friends.
Q: Is it okay to stray a bit from traditional lore about supernatural things like werewolves and vampires?
A: By all means, please do. When you use werewolves and vampires, feel free to reinvent the wheel. You don't have to play by rules made up by Anne Rice or Stephenie Meyer or, for that matter, Bram Stoker. I have read books and seen movies about vampires with guns, vampires who live next door, a vampire who is a mafia godfather (who bites all of his underbosses so that he can create an indestructible mafia family), and in a recent film a world run by vampires, in which the humans are the monsters (sort of).
Q: Because it is geared toward a tween/teenage audience, I would like to depict high school as it really is, bullies, taunting, the whole nine yards. Is that okay, or should I make it so that some do not have to relive the horrors of high school?
A: I think the bullying and the taunting will make it more interesting, especially since I get the sense that that is one of the issues you want to explore in the book. Why not make the high school experience as real as possible and then set down a vampire or werewolf or some other supernatural creation of yours in it. Go back and read Stephen King's CHRISTINE and note how real and painful that high school experience is. Then suddenly, a '57 Chevy comes to life.
Good hearing from you H.W., and keep on writing. You've got talent and I can't wait to see what you produce.
Thanks,
Preston
Thanks,
H.W.
Q: I am writing a novel (of a supernatural nature), and I was wondering whether I should use a real place as the setting, or continue with the made-up realistic city that I have been using since the start of the book. I’ve read in various places that it’s best to use a real place, but should I really do that? I created the city in order to create a problem for my protagonist, who is supposed to be struggling a bit with racial issues in her community. She herself is of two ethnicities, Caucasian and Hispanic, and I thought it might be interesting to have her struggle with this fact in her high school and her community. I didn't want to set it in the past, and I didn't want it to be in the countryside or something. So, should I pull a J.K. Rowling, and use my imaginary place?
A: One of the great things about being a writer is that we get to make up worlds that do not but maybe should exist, and truth be told, whether we set our story in a made-up world or right down here on on our good old terra firma, we are creating a new world. At the beginning of my first novel, HOOCHIE MAMA, which is set in Opa-Locka, I posted the disclaimer that pretty much all writers post: "This is a work of fiction and it is set in the Opa-Locka of the writer's mind." You are an extremely creative and inventive person and I, personally, would love to see a book of yours set in a world you created. I think you would be good at it, and furthermore, you would be able to make controversial comments about this present world more honestly through the disguise of that artificial world. Sort of like Gulliver's Travels.
Q: Would it be a good idea to end the novel with a cliff hanger as Tolkien does in The Hobbit?
A: No. Not unless you have a real good reason to do so. People want to read a novel that is a complete work. A sequel is one thing, but to leave parts of it unwritten so that we are forced to buy a second book just to see how the first book ends is blatantly unfair. James Patterson did that in ROSES ARE RED and its follow up book VIOLETS ARE BLUE. I felt deceived as a reader. It felt like a sneaky way to get me to buy two short, incomplete novels, instead of one long complete novel. Furthermore, I don't understand your example. THE HOBBIT is a complete novel and has no cliff hanger at the end. Bilbo has his resolution. The book is done--fini-complete--but the LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RINGS is a new story about Bilbo's nephew Frodo and his friends.
Q: Is it okay to stray a bit from traditional lore about supernatural things like werewolves and vampires?
A: By all means, please do. When you use werewolves and vampires, feel free to reinvent the wheel. You don't have to play by rules made up by Anne Rice or Stephenie Meyer or, for that matter, Bram Stoker. I have read books and seen movies about vampires with guns, vampires who live next door, a vampire who is a mafia godfather (who bites all of his underbosses so that he can create an indestructible mafia family), and in a recent film a world run by vampires, in which the humans are the monsters (sort of).
Q: Because it is geared toward a tween/teenage audience, I would like to depict high school as it really is, bullies, taunting, the whole nine yards. Is that okay, or should I make it so that some do not have to relive the horrors of high school?
A: I think the bullying and the taunting will make it more interesting, especially since I get the sense that that is one of the issues you want to explore in the book. Why not make the high school experience as real as possible and then set down a vampire or werewolf or some other supernatural creation of yours in it. Go back and read Stephen King's CHRISTINE and note how real and painful that high school experience is. Then suddenly, a '57 Chevy comes to life.
Good hearing from you H.W., and keep on writing. You've got talent and I can't wait to see what you produce.
Thanks,
Preston
January 7, 2010
Women in Their Winter Boots
What I like most about South Florida is the women in their winter boots.
When the temperature dips into the sixties--I swear, the sixties--out come the boots.
I am sure this does not happen anywhere else in the country. But down here once the mercury dips to sixty--watch out!
It's ridiculous. Half of them are wearing midriff revealing tops, short-shorts, and winter boots. It's a weird juxtaposition, let me tell you.
Someone should do a photo blog of South Florida women wearing their winter boots in sixty degree weather with the palm trees, the ocean, and Canadian tourists in swimsuits and bikinis in the background. The blog would be sort of like Irwin Shaw's "Girls in Their Summer Dresses," except it would be about boots.
But the boots are quite stylish.
The boots look good without snow.
Thanks,
Preston
When the temperature dips into the sixties--I swear, the sixties--out come the boots.
I am sure this does not happen anywhere else in the country. But down here once the mercury dips to sixty--watch out!
It's ridiculous. Half of them are wearing midriff revealing tops, short-shorts, and winter boots. It's a weird juxtaposition, let me tell you.
Someone should do a photo blog of South Florida women wearing their winter boots in sixty degree weather with the palm trees, the ocean, and Canadian tourists in swimsuits and bikinis in the background. The blog would be sort of like Irwin Shaw's "Girls in Their Summer Dresses," except it would be about boots.
But the boots are quite stylish.
The boots look good without snow.
Thanks,
Preston
I'm Cold
I got up Wednesday morning, and I was cold. Cold!
I have been wearing suits all week because they are the warmest garments I own. Sudden realization. I do not own any winter clothes.
Ponder this: go out and buy a good winter coat and hat for the one or two times in three years that you will wear them. No way, said I.
But the arctic blasts, as they call them, continued to blow and Wednesday morning, in my suit and hat, I was cold. Cold like a South Floridian in 30 degree weather.
Scroll back to Monday. I forgot my watch at home so I took a break from the office and went to the drugstore--hoping to find a cheap timepiece to get me through the day. "No luck," said the manager. "All of our watches were sold as stocking stuffers during Christmas. It's not an item we regularly carry. We might have some in the store again around Valentine's."
No luck with the watch. Not a problem.
And the store was full of scarves, gloves, portable heaters, and warm winter hats. How toasty. LOL.
Oh, I laughed. Yes, I did. Floridians just cannot take a little chill, tittered I. They're selling all of this stuff for 50 degree weather. Hahaha. LOL. Hahaha, laughed I. Oh and by the way, I don't even need a watch. I forgot that I can just use the clock on my iPhone. Hahaha. LOL. Hahaha, I laughed on. Merry, merry me, who flinches not in the chill of 50 degree weather. I laugh out loud at your 50 degrees. Bring it on!
Here it is Thursday morning. I am in the drugstore again. All of the warm clothes have been sold. They are completely out of warm winter caps. They are completely out of portable heaters.
Who's laughing now, funny man?
Not me. I'm freezing. Thirty degrees is too much even for me.
My prospects for survival are not good. They say the chill is going to last through the weekend and I am running out of suits. I think I'm going to head over to the Burlington Coat Factory and pray they've got something warm and toasty in my size.
Thanks,
Preston
I have been wearing suits all week because they are the warmest garments I own. Sudden realization. I do not own any winter clothes.
Ponder this: go out and buy a good winter coat and hat for the one or two times in three years that you will wear them. No way, said I.
But the arctic blasts, as they call them, continued to blow and Wednesday morning, in my suit and hat, I was cold. Cold like a South Floridian in 30 degree weather.
Scroll back to Monday. I forgot my watch at home so I took a break from the office and went to the drugstore--hoping to find a cheap timepiece to get me through the day. "No luck," said the manager. "All of our watches were sold as stocking stuffers during Christmas. It's not an item we regularly carry. We might have some in the store again around Valentine's."
No luck with the watch. Not a problem.
And the store was full of scarves, gloves, portable heaters, and warm winter hats. How toasty. LOL.
Oh, I laughed. Yes, I did. Floridians just cannot take a little chill, tittered I. They're selling all of this stuff for 50 degree weather. Hahaha. LOL. Hahaha, laughed I. Oh and by the way, I don't even need a watch. I forgot that I can just use the clock on my iPhone. Hahaha. LOL. Hahaha, I laughed on. Merry, merry me, who flinches not in the chill of 50 degree weather. I laugh out loud at your 50 degrees. Bring it on!
Here it is Thursday morning. I am in the drugstore again. All of the warm clothes have been sold. They are completely out of warm winter caps. They are completely out of portable heaters.
Who's laughing now, funny man?
Not me. I'm freezing. Thirty degrees is too much even for me.
My prospects for survival are not good. They say the chill is going to last through the weekend and I am running out of suits. I think I'm going to head over to the Burlington Coat Factory and pray they've got something warm and toasty in my size.
Thanks,
Preston
December 28, 2009
Memorable Moments in the Casino
Q: Wow! You really blasted that guy. But you speak truth. I found your novel to be realistic, well written, and touching, but the quality I like most about it is its humor. Besides the things you wrote about in the book, what are some of your most memorable moments from being a gambler in a casino? You are the real deal.
A: Thanks for the question, though I do not think I fully understand it. Are you asking what my most memorable moments were, like my most memorable, or biggest, wins, or are you asking about the most memorable things I've witnessed?
At any rate here goes.
I saw a crowd gathered around a car in the parking lot one night as I was leaving the casino. There was a guy sprawled out under the car--I think it was a truck or an SUV--I think maybe he was trying to get himself killed. Maybe he had lost too much money that night. Maybe he was just drunk. The police came and dragged him out and arrested him.
I saw a crowd gathered around a car in the parking lot one afternoon as I was leaving the casino. There was a three or four foot alligator under the car (this is Florida--the casino is sort of in a swamp). People were just kind of gathered around looking at the alligator. This incident is not related to the one above.
I saw an elderly couple (I think they were Canadian tourists) hit all four screens on MAX BET and they had no idea what they were doing. They played all four screens as "000000"--they could not figure how to get the machine off zero--they could not figure out how to lower the bet--and the dang thing hit! Totally unfair to the rest of us poor bastards.
I saw a guy begging money from friends to play the Super 7 machine--a game I do not play and do not really understand--and when he had gotten the money together he sat down and hit $124,000 on the first push.
I saw a guy have a heart attack at the poker table. When he came back to the casino like two months later, they gave him the $22.18 stack that he had left at the table.
I was at the table when a guy hit back to back royal flushes. Amazing! A-freaking-mazing! I don't think that has ever happened anywhere before on the planet earth! Amazing! The jackpots were worth like $20,000 combined. The winner tipped the dealer like ten dollars. Ten measly freaking dollars. You could see it on the dealer's face--disappointment. What can you do? Some players are cheap bastards.
An Asian guy we used to call "Bruce Lee" because he did really look like Bruce Lee was so broke from gambling and losing that he didn't even own a car and had to walk to the casino everyday to play poker with us. (I think I heard somewhere that because of his gambling, he had had his car reposessed.) Anyway, he got lucky one day and hit a Royal Flush with a big $30,000 jackpot. The first thing Bruce Lee did? He got up and went across the street to a buy-here-pay-here lot and paid $4000 cash for a little Hyundai. Then he came back to the table and played all night. Now he had a car. No more walking for Bruce Lee.
This guy we all knew came in and blew his mortgage. He was on his way to pay his mortgage, which was already like three months in arears, and he stopped into the casino and blew it. Now he's crying and moaning and begging us. Well, we're all gamblers. We know how it is. So we pitch together and the most we come up with is like a couple hundred dollars. He needs at least $1500 for his mortgage. It's not that we're cheap. He's begging from us at a bad time. We're all on like a bad streak. So the only thing he can do is take the couple hundred we gave him and try his luck in the machines again. So he plays the machines and he hits $1500 in a little jackpot. Thank God. Now he can pay his mortgage. While he's waiting to be cashed out. He puts twenty dollars in the machine right next to his and hits again. $500! While he's waiting to be cashed out of these first two lucky machines, he puts some money in the next machine in line and hits again! Like $500-600! Amazing. Three machines in a row! When they finally cashed him out, he was about to put some money in another machine, and we were all watching anxiously to see what was going to happen, some of us chanting, "Lucky money never loses. Lucky money never loses," and he stops. He paid us all back and left. He said, "I better go pay my mortgage while I can." We were all shocked. Shocked! We were all grumbling, "What an idiot! How can he leave when he's hot? What a freaking idiot!"
We're playing poker one day at the casino. The Hold'em bad beat jackpot is up to like $160,000--which means the bad beat loser gets $80,000, the bad beat winner gets half that at $40,000, not bad, and the other six players at the table split the final $40,000, which is close to like 7 grand each--not bad for just sitting at the table. We are playing at the table for like 12 hours straight, hoping for that bad beat to hit. Suddenly the pit boss announces "BAD BEAT!" Shouts of joy go up. We look around--our table didn't win, so we want to see which table in the casino, which lucky players, hit the bad beat. Would you believe it was freaking world famous linebacker from the freaking Miami Dolphins who won the bad beat? And the table was full of really big guys who looked like maybe his Dolphins teammates. Lucky bastards. A table full of professional football players. They're already rich and now they win the bad beat. A-freaking-mazing!
There's lots more, but I can't go on. That last one really got to me. I'm not saying Zack and the boys didn't deserve the money, but the rich just keep getting richer. The rest of us just donate.
Thanks,
Preston
A: Thanks for the question, though I do not think I fully understand it. Are you asking what my most memorable moments were, like my most memorable, or biggest, wins, or are you asking about the most memorable things I've witnessed?
At any rate here goes.
I saw a crowd gathered around a car in the parking lot one night as I was leaving the casino. There was a guy sprawled out under the car--I think it was a truck or an SUV--I think maybe he was trying to get himself killed. Maybe he had lost too much money that night. Maybe he was just drunk. The police came and dragged him out and arrested him.
I saw a crowd gathered around a car in the parking lot one afternoon as I was leaving the casino. There was a three or four foot alligator under the car (this is Florida--the casino is sort of in a swamp). People were just kind of gathered around looking at the alligator. This incident is not related to the one above.
I saw an elderly couple (I think they were Canadian tourists) hit all four screens on MAX BET and they had no idea what they were doing. They played all four screens as "000000"--they could not figure how to get the machine off zero--they could not figure out how to lower the bet--and the dang thing hit! Totally unfair to the rest of us poor bastards.
I saw a guy begging money from friends to play the Super 7 machine--a game I do not play and do not really understand--and when he had gotten the money together he sat down and hit $124,000 on the first push.
I saw a guy have a heart attack at the poker table. When he came back to the casino like two months later, they gave him the $22.18 stack that he had left at the table.
I was at the table when a guy hit back to back royal flushes. Amazing! A-freaking-mazing! I don't think that has ever happened anywhere before on the planet earth! Amazing! The jackpots were worth like $20,000 combined. The winner tipped the dealer like ten dollars. Ten measly freaking dollars. You could see it on the dealer's face--disappointment. What can you do? Some players are cheap bastards.
An Asian guy we used to call "Bruce Lee" because he did really look like Bruce Lee was so broke from gambling and losing that he didn't even own a car and had to walk to the casino everyday to play poker with us. (I think I heard somewhere that because of his gambling, he had had his car reposessed.) Anyway, he got lucky one day and hit a Royal Flush with a big $30,000 jackpot. The first thing Bruce Lee did? He got up and went across the street to a buy-here-pay-here lot and paid $4000 cash for a little Hyundai. Then he came back to the table and played all night. Now he had a car. No more walking for Bruce Lee.
This guy we all knew came in and blew his mortgage. He was on his way to pay his mortgage, which was already like three months in arears, and he stopped into the casino and blew it. Now he's crying and moaning and begging us. Well, we're all gamblers. We know how it is. So we pitch together and the most we come up with is like a couple hundred dollars. He needs at least $1500 for his mortgage. It's not that we're cheap. He's begging from us at a bad time. We're all on like a bad streak. So the only thing he can do is take the couple hundred we gave him and try his luck in the machines again. So he plays the machines and he hits $1500 in a little jackpot. Thank God. Now he can pay his mortgage. While he's waiting to be cashed out. He puts twenty dollars in the machine right next to his and hits again. $500! While he's waiting to be cashed out of these first two lucky machines, he puts some money in the next machine in line and hits again! Like $500-600! Amazing. Three machines in a row! When they finally cashed him out, he was about to put some money in another machine, and we were all watching anxiously to see what was going to happen, some of us chanting, "Lucky money never loses. Lucky money never loses," and he stops. He paid us all back and left. He said, "I better go pay my mortgage while I can." We were all shocked. Shocked! We were all grumbling, "What an idiot! How can he leave when he's hot? What a freaking idiot!"
We're playing poker one day at the casino. The Hold'em bad beat jackpot is up to like $160,000--which means the bad beat loser gets $80,000, the bad beat winner gets half that at $40,000, not bad, and the other six players at the table split the final $40,000, which is close to like 7 grand each--not bad for just sitting at the table. We are playing at the table for like 12 hours straight, hoping for that bad beat to hit. Suddenly the pit boss announces "BAD BEAT!" Shouts of joy go up. We look around--our table didn't win, so we want to see which table in the casino, which lucky players, hit the bad beat. Would you believe it was freaking world famous linebacker from the freaking Miami Dolphins who won the bad beat? And the table was full of really big guys who looked like maybe his Dolphins teammates. Lucky bastards. A table full of professional football players. They're already rich and now they win the bad beat. A-freaking-mazing!
There's lots more, but I can't go on. That last one really got to me. I'm not saying Zack and the boys didn't deserve the money, but the rich just keep getting richer. The rest of us just donate.
Thanks,
Preston
December 26, 2009
How Does One Stop Gambling?
Q: Loved your book. If there is one thing you know, Mr. Allen, it is the gambling world. Your book brought many smiles to my face and it also made me face a tragic reality. I am hooked and maybe there is no way out for me. This gambling thing is ruining my life. Believe it or not, I am the kind of guy you wrote about who will borrow money to gamble and leave his bills unpaid. I went for three weeks without gas to heat my home because I could not afford to pay the gas man. I froze my butt off! The funny thing is that minutes before I left the casino that last time, I had won enough money to pay the gas man to turn my gas back on AND TO BUY FOOD. Sadly, like most gamblers, I kept right on playing and soon had LOST IT ALL BACK. I drove back home to a freezing house. I froze for three weeks. I didn't even have enough money to buy one of those portable electric heaters. Every night as I lay bundled up in 300 blankets, I cursed myself for being so stupid. Why couldn't I just leave when I was winning? Why couldn't I just get up and leave? The funny thing, the sick thing, the really sick thing, is that during those three weeks of cold, I was twice able to borrow money from friends to turn back on the gas and what did I do with the money they loaned me? I went to the casino and lost it all. During those three weeks of cold I thought about a lot of things under those blankets. Like my life savings, which was all gone, like the love of my life, who had dumped me, and most of all how pathetic I was under all of those blankets thinking about how angry I was that I could not gamble. That's right. Despite all that I had lost, the main thing on my mind was to gamble some more. I had lost over a hundred thousand dollars in life savings. I had blown, as usual, that month's pay check (I get paid once a month). I was freezing my butt off in the richest country in the world. Enough was enough. Since that time I have been strong enough to fight it. In the last 30 days I have only visited the casino like twice and have had the strength to get up and leave with money in my pocket when I started losing. It is hard, but I am fighting it. I think I can beat this thing. Memories of the cold are hard to forget.
A: Thanks for the letter. Sorry that I had to edit it. I loved it, but there were a few granmmar issues and also I don't think it is wise to put your personal information out there like that.
I am glad that you are fighting it, and I wish you luck. But in the interest of the uninformed who are reading this post I have to be blunt with you:
You are full of crap and you will fail.
Your strength alone is not enough to stop you from gambling. Your strength? LOL. You are a punk. You blew a hundred grand after working for God knows how many years at a job you probably hate and just because you grew icicles on your nose, you think you are strong enough to beat gambling? Wake up, Frosty the Snowman! You are in denial, and denial is going to suck another hundred grand out of you if it doesn't kill you first. Are you a casual gambler? No. You are a GAMBLER in all CAPS. If you are a gambler, there is no in between. The casino is there to do one of two things: Take ALL of your money, or convince you to commit suicide.
You were not strong enough to stop when you were down ten grand. You were not strong enough to stop when you were down 50 grand. You were not strong enough to stop when you had blown 100 hundred grand (and probably blown through all of your credit cards) and were living paycheck to paycheck. Now you actually believe you are strong enough to stop after a few cold nights? Brother, the nights are always cold for a gambler.
If you want to show strength, pick up the phone and dial 1-888-ADMIT IT. Join GA now! These people can help you--if you are ready to be helped and not just talking crap, like I know that you are.
If you want to show strength go back to the casino and speak to the floor man or the pit boss. Tell them these words: I WANT YOU TO BAN ME FROM THIS CASINO FOR LIFE.
They will do it, and you will not be allowed to go back there.
You, my friend, have had a chilly winter, but you have not hit rock bottom yet. But you will one day soon, and it is going to make your chilly winter seem like a warm day at the beach.
Stop talking crap and get help. You cannot do it alone.
None of us can.
One does not stop gambling by going to the casino! Duh!
Great letter, though.
Thanks,
Preston
A: Thanks for the letter. Sorry that I had to edit it. I loved it, but there were a few granmmar issues and also I don't think it is wise to put your personal information out there like that.
I am glad that you are fighting it, and I wish you luck. But in the interest of the uninformed who are reading this post I have to be blunt with you:
You are full of crap and you will fail.
Your strength alone is not enough to stop you from gambling. Your strength? LOL. You are a punk. You blew a hundred grand after working for God knows how many years at a job you probably hate and just because you grew icicles on your nose, you think you are strong enough to beat gambling? Wake up, Frosty the Snowman! You are in denial, and denial is going to suck another hundred grand out of you if it doesn't kill you first. Are you a casual gambler? No. You are a GAMBLER in all CAPS. If you are a gambler, there is no in between. The casino is there to do one of two things: Take ALL of your money, or convince you to commit suicide.
You were not strong enough to stop when you were down ten grand. You were not strong enough to stop when you were down 50 grand. You were not strong enough to stop when you had blown 100 hundred grand (and probably blown through all of your credit cards) and were living paycheck to paycheck. Now you actually believe you are strong enough to stop after a few cold nights? Brother, the nights are always cold for a gambler.
If you want to show strength, pick up the phone and dial 1-888-ADMIT IT. Join GA now! These people can help you--if you are ready to be helped and not just talking crap, like I know that you are.
If you want to show strength go back to the casino and speak to the floor man or the pit boss. Tell them these words: I WANT YOU TO BAN ME FROM THIS CASINO FOR LIFE.
They will do it, and you will not be allowed to go back there.
You, my friend, have had a chilly winter, but you have not hit rock bottom yet. But you will one day soon, and it is going to make your chilly winter seem like a warm day at the beach.
Stop talking crap and get help. You cannot do it alone.
None of us can.
One does not stop gambling by going to the casino! Duh!
Great letter, though.
Thanks,
Preston
Where Do Gamblers Get Money to Gamble?
Q: I gave your book, ALL OR NOTHING, to my girlfriend who enjoyed it too but asked, "Where do gamblers get all of that money to spend gambling?"
A: LOL. Good question. The answer is that they beg, borrow, and steal. I have met gamblers who liquidate their life savings, life insurance, 401Ks, credit cards, college savings funds; I know gamblers who sell their own blood, their fancy cars, rent out rooms in their houses, take out second and third mortgages, blow their inheritances and much more than that. By the way, these are the non-criminal gamblers.
We have all heard stories about the embezzlers and prostitutes of the gambling world--at least the ones who get caught.
But think about a woman or man who remains with a wealthy partner, whom they hate, because he/she provides them with money to gamble. Think about people who stay at a job they hate because it provides them with money (or the flexibility of hours) to gamble.
I know of bus drivers (obviously) who gamble. I know of police officers who gamble. I know of physicians who gamble. And when I say "gamble," I mean that they are addicted gamblers I have met regularly in the casinos and in GA.
Where do they get the money to gamble? Lots of places, but mostly from other people. In fact, if gamblers weren't addicted to gambling, they would make great fundraisers.
I know of a gambler who was down 2k after a night at the machines. He had the usual complaints--he was not going to be able to pay his water bill, he was not going to be able to pay his electricity, he was not going to be able to buy groceries, and so on and so forth. So a few of us got together and helped him out a little bit, and then he contacted some other friends of his, and within a few hours he had collected more than the 2k he needed to pay all of his bills. The next night at the casino he blew another 2k or so and the whole process of begging started over again. The only thing he didn't pay was his bills. His electricity was cut off for like the millionth time and his water too, but he had borrowed 2k to gamble with.
Thanks,
Preston
A: LOL. Good question. The answer is that they beg, borrow, and steal. I have met gamblers who liquidate their life savings, life insurance, 401Ks, credit cards, college savings funds; I know gamblers who sell their own blood, their fancy cars, rent out rooms in their houses, take out second and third mortgages, blow their inheritances and much more than that. By the way, these are the non-criminal gamblers.
We have all heard stories about the embezzlers and prostitutes of the gambling world--at least the ones who get caught.
But think about a woman or man who remains with a wealthy partner, whom they hate, because he/she provides them with money to gamble. Think about people who stay at a job they hate because it provides them with money (or the flexibility of hours) to gamble.
I know of bus drivers (obviously) who gamble. I know of police officers who gamble. I know of physicians who gamble. And when I say "gamble," I mean that they are addicted gamblers I have met regularly in the casinos and in GA.
Where do they get the money to gamble? Lots of places, but mostly from other people. In fact, if gamblers weren't addicted to gambling, they would make great fundraisers.
I know of a gambler who was down 2k after a night at the machines. He had the usual complaints--he was not going to be able to pay his water bill, he was not going to be able to pay his electricity, he was not going to be able to buy groceries, and so on and so forth. So a few of us got together and helped him out a little bit, and then he contacted some other friends of his, and within a few hours he had collected more than the 2k he needed to pay all of his bills. The next night at the casino he blew another 2k or so and the whole process of begging started over again. The only thing he didn't pay was his bills. His electricity was cut off for like the millionth time and his water too, but he had borrowed 2k to gamble with.
Thanks,
Preston
December 23, 2009
Black History
Q: You are a pretty good writer. I enjoyed your novel ALL OR NOTHING. It is the best book I have ever read seriously without wanting to put it down. As an African American reader to an African American writer, I am wondering if you are ever going to write something that gives back to the community. Are you ever going to write a book about black history that can be used in schools?
A: Thanks for the kind words about my book.
Every writer has a genre that he/she writes in. At this moment I am not writing historical fiction. That is not my genre. However, I do address many cultural and social issues in my work, and race relations in America is one that shows up from time to time because of my own personal experience with it. Examples of it can be found even in my erotica (See "Southernmost Triangle" in WANDERLUST: EROTIC BLACK TRAVEL TALES edited by Carol Taylor).
Or are you asking whether or not I am going to write a biographical work on, say, Medgar Evers, Martin Luther King, Sojourner Truth? To answer that question let me say that at this time I am writing fiction exclusively--but I do have some projects in mind for the future.
Thanks,
Preston
A: Thanks for the kind words about my book.
Every writer has a genre that he/she writes in. At this moment I am not writing historical fiction. That is not my genre. However, I do address many cultural and social issues in my work, and race relations in America is one that shows up from time to time because of my own personal experience with it. Examples of it can be found even in my erotica (See "Southernmost Triangle" in WANDERLUST: EROTIC BLACK TRAVEL TALES edited by Carol Taylor).
Or are you asking whether or not I am going to write a biographical work on, say, Medgar Evers, Martin Luther King, Sojourner Truth? To answer that question let me say that at this time I am writing fiction exclusively--but I do have some projects in mind for the future.
Thanks,
Preston
Are You Gay?
Q: I am a woman who has read all of your novels and all of your erotica and most I think of your published short stories. Are you gay or bisexual? I'm not trying to offend you. I'm complimenting you I think. Some of the things you say and your attitude remind me of a gay friend I have and he is very humorous. If you do not publish this question or answer it on your blog I will understand.
A: I am not gay or bisexual.
In real life, no one ever asks me this question (because I am too macho!). But on the blog, I have been asked this question by readers at least 6 times. Maybe because gays and lesbians show up in my work with some frequency? Because I have many gay and bisexual friends? I do not know.
So there! I have answered the question. I am not gay. No, I am not hiding any sexual secrets. No, I am not repressing any hidden desires. I like women--a lot. Too much.
LOL. Thanks for asking.
Preston
A: I am not gay or bisexual.
In real life, no one ever asks me this question (because I am too macho!). But on the blog, I have been asked this question by readers at least 6 times. Maybe because gays and lesbians show up in my work with some frequency? Because I have many gay and bisexual friends? I do not know.
So there! I have answered the question. I am not gay. No, I am not hiding any sexual secrets. No, I am not repressing any hidden desires. I like women--a lot. Too much.
LOL. Thanks for asking.
Preston
December 22, 2009
Jesus Boy
Q: When is your next book due out and what are you working on after that?
A: The next book is called JESUS BOY and it is due out April 1, 2010. I am going to create a blogsite specifically for the book as soon as the cover and etc. are confirmed.
Well, as you know, there are a couple of books that I was born to write: A book about gambling, a book about church, a book about car salesmen, and a book about fathers. I took care of the gambling theme in ALL OR NOTHING. I did my church book in JESUS BOY. I have two more to go, car salesmen and fathers.
Two down.
Two to go.
In the meantime, I have completed a mystery/thriller about a female cop who is abducted by a serial rapist, a fantasy novel set in a world in which humans are pets, and two short story collections: one that pays homage to the work of Edgar Allan Poe, and another that pays homage to depression era gangsters John Dillinger, Pretty Boy Floyd, and Baby Face Nelson.
Thanks,
Preston
A: The next book is called JESUS BOY and it is due out April 1, 2010. I am going to create a blogsite specifically for the book as soon as the cover and etc. are confirmed.
Well, as you know, there are a couple of books that I was born to write: A book about gambling, a book about church, a book about car salesmen, and a book about fathers. I took care of the gambling theme in ALL OR NOTHING. I did my church book in JESUS BOY. I have two more to go, car salesmen and fathers.
Two down.
Two to go.
In the meantime, I have completed a mystery/thriller about a female cop who is abducted by a serial rapist, a fantasy novel set in a world in which humans are pets, and two short story collections: one that pays homage to the work of Edgar Allan Poe, and another that pays homage to depression era gangsters John Dillinger, Pretty Boy Floyd, and Baby Face Nelson.
Thanks,
Preston
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