Thursday, December 20, 2012

Book Twelve from the Desk Drawer: Life of a Tennis Ball

The sky went from heavy massive black clouds, downpour and wind which made the front of my head throb so bad if I sat up, I'd throw up. This happens when the weather does abrupt change. The good news - I devised an entire picture book while lying there with the back of my hand on my face.
The Book:
The Life of a Tennis Ball!
Now that the headache has subsided, out to the drawing board! It makes me giggle.
Note: This blog is temporary out of order to add more photographs. But, I'm setting up some time in January to learn more about blogs from the Technician at the Linebaugh Public Library.
Also, We'll be adding a Friends of the Linebaugh Blog for the Linebaugh Public Library.

Friday, November 30, 2012

Book Eleven from my Desk Drawer: BugOff Kid!

It was my New Year's Resolution to blog one of my books a month. I'm trying to keep it, especially since it's near the end of the year. But, we have a glitch - the blog isn't allowing me to upload any more photographs, and photographs are what this blog is all about.
BugOff Kid!
is the third picture book in the Trilogy: DogGone Kid! and SCat Kid!
You can imagine what the poor fellow collects from the neighborhood in
BugOff Kid!
Also imagine, because you can't actually see it, that these drawings and photographs are
Indeed my Best Work Ever! 

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Book Ten From my Desk Drawer: Altered Angels

We all like Scrabble.
Except, when one of us takes over an hour to use a  trumped-up word like Quaz to get triple letter points scoring over 345 at midnight.
Cold days like these put me in my Studio (the messy garage with a bunch of cool stuff).

I found a Children's Book at a yard sale for a quarter.
It's in the shape of an Angel with wings. It spoke these words, 
"This looks just like your sisters and niece, why don't you decoupage their faces
and then paint the rest?"

Some faux feathers got attached to the wings.

Added some pictures that describes the person.
In this case, my Sister Joan likes tennis, Wizard of Oz, and scrapbooking her son and rellies.
She also dressed as Miss Liberty recently.

That Niece is all about Books, and an old picture of her dad was sitting there, so I added it.

Sister Ruth likes cooking, fashion and reading, a lot.
Her favorite book is The Great Gatsby, so the words come from F. Scott.

Sister Sue was the Best Teacher on the Earth,
likes to dance (she'll snap her fingers and start dancing ANYWHERE!),
and of course loves her daughter, books and Scrabble.
Then there's me - Love the kid, tennis, art and fun magazines and BOOKS.

There you have us.

Not perfect, quite crabby, especially if you put up some fake word. Or you add
Almond to Brothers thinking that's a nutty band.

Back in the day (DISCO), we were once Perry's Angels,
but that's another story. 

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Book Nine from my Desk Drawer: EMU MAN

This children's book, EMU MAN has never seen the light of publication, and that's because publishers have good taste.

If only I could be like those other mothers who can take their kids on a school field trip, have fun, and then go home and that's it. Instead, I conjure up back stories, paintings, a hundred photographs, and figure out how it can all be turned into a trilogy.
 Even though perhaps it shouldn't be done, it must be done. 
Boys love comic book heroes. They are so inviting because Comic Heroes  turn into something really Cool or Scary.

In real life, my son's best friend got bit by an Emu on the Fall Field Trip.
(and I accidentally got a photograph of it).

Hmmm, what would happen if you got bit by a Emu like Peter Parker got bit by a spider?
Ha, ha. An Emu!
Not too scary nor too cool.

This guy (photo from a ZooBooks Magazine), he looks pretty cool. Look at those red eyes.
However, our Hero Warren Washington, looks more like this.


So, the premise is that the two best friends go on a Fall field trip, and one gets bitten by an Emu and emerges into a part-time Emu and a part-time boy.


 Completely at random, I picked out a page for an excerpt. 
Chapter Nine
Secretary Jones is sitting at her desk. She has round glasses like Warren's, so maybe this is a sign that I should discuss my best friend's problem with her.
"Mrs. Jones," I clear my throat.
"Yes, Stewart," she says but doesn't look up, still typing away at the computer. I'm amazed at how fast she can type. Her fingers fly over that keyboard. Why can't we learn that in school? Maybe we will? Her desk is filled with hundreds of metal slots with piles of junk. I pull out one of the papers and it looks like a lunch schedule. Man, this is boring food. I resist the compulsion to write in something better. Is there no other food on the face of the earth besides burgers and pizza? What about Emu souffle. I snort, Gadz, I'm talking about my best friend here.
"You know, Mrs. Jones, some people may not want to eat greasy chicken. In fact, they may have a real aversion to any type of bird as food, entirely," I say.
She snatches the schedule from my hands and files it back in place.
"Couldn't they at least use real fruit in the cobbler?" I ask.
"Stewart, please, I have to finish this, is there something you want?"
Her face has a fluorescent glow bouncing back from the light of the screen. Her blond hair is tucked and twisted around the rims of her glasses. That doesn't look very good, but I guess she can't help it because she's old. She must have permanent dents in the sides of her head where her glasses have been shoved there for thirty years. This makes me curious, so I lean in and examine her ears and hair.
"Stewart . . . Mr. Deason has excused you, so please return to your class," she says.
"Mrs. Jones, I'm wondering if you know anything?"
She pulls her glasses to the tip of her nose.
"What I mean to say, do you know anything about that Emu?"
"Everyone is curious about that stray Emu. Even though it came on the bus with you students, we'll put it back on the farm," she says.
"But, what if you had a friend who could turn into an Emu and it's definitely getting out of control, and you really didn't know what to do about it? What would you do? Can you help me fix it? There I said it!"
"Stewart, you are a very funny boy, and I like you a lot, I really do, but you need to go back to Mrs. Sweeter's class before she starts to worry, and before I start to get a headache." She stands up grabs my elbow and escorts me to the door.
"But Mrs. Jones, I'm trying to tell you that my best friend Warren Washington is the one turning into that Emu and we need help. I thought you'd understand since you saw his talons coming from that window and you wear those glasses."
"Yes, yes, I'm sure that I wear glasses," she says, shoving me out the door.
 I stand beside that slammed door knowing that telling Secretary Jones did absolutely no good whatsoever. Maybe, I should confide in Mrs. Sweeter? I need to get to class, anyway, before both of us get in trouble. So, I head to homeroom. The entire class stares as I creak open the door. There is no Warren. They all are sweating a tough math problem.
"Is Mr. Washington coming soon?" Mrs. Sweeter asks.
    "Yeah, I guess so, but I've go no idea where that bird-brain has run off to," I grumble. She assumes he's in the Principal's office.
I sit in my chair and stare at the empty sit which once held Warren.
Joe didn't help. Mrs. Jones didn't help. Maybe Mrs. Washington might? She loves her son. Plus, she's probably noticed Warren acting strangely. She's probably the person who I should have told all along. You know, allalong should be one word. That looks absolutely fabulous together. I look around the class and they are biting their lips, pulling on their hair, glaring at their papers. Not one of them can figure out that math problem. What was she thinking when she put that on the board? Does Mrs. Sweeter think we go to college?
I write something reasonable on my paper - words that need to be turned into one.
1. Allalong - Allalong knowing right from the beginning that your best friend shouldn't transform into an Emu.
2. Alltogether - My best friend is alltogether stupid for not listening to me in the first place.
3. Anyway - One shouldn't have a best friend, anyway, because they don't listen.
Then, I see a shadow.
A big overlapping shadow of Mrs. Sweeter.
"Stewart, you've disrupted the lunchroom, and now you're sitting here doodling! Please do this problem," she snatches my paper, hands me a blank sheet, then takes my list and throws it in the trash. That isn't very nice and Mrs. Sweeter was the last nice one left, so I huff my unhappiness.
"Oh come now, don't stew over it. Just get the work done."
I put my hands into my face, "Not you too, Mrs. Sweeter, not you too!"
"Oh, I didn't mean . . . that is to say, no, I wasn't meaning that, Stewart."
The whole class is laughing at me, again.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

One-of-a-Kind Tardis Waiting for Another Time Lord Visit


The One-of-a-Kind Tardis

 The Tardis happened by accident as most great things do.
I bought this screen at a yard sale for three dollars, thinking it might be useful for either photos or my son's artwork. But, it was a hideous purplish color, and I hate purple.
Real Creative Geniuses sprawl on the couch and watch TV to relax the stimulus process, so while watching Doctor Who, it hit me like a Weeping Angel.
Ah, the screen must be Gorgeous Deep Blue!

 The Kid did the Masterful Appropriate Artwork.
It just so happens that the Time Lord has visited here in two different forms. The first time he Flumed in from Stonybrook, and a few years later regenerated, and came flying in on a Dragon.



It's much larger on the other side with a bunch of gizmos, gadgets and buttons to press.


But there is a viscous crack seeping onto the other side.

 Some panels are turned into chalkboards so any aliens can send their greetings.

Naieva doesn't do anything without adding Jerry Lewis. Plus, he probably is an alien.

So, where should we GO?
The Summit 1967?

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Book Eight from my Desk Drawer: Sherbo Will Manage the Murville Zoo

This one has some dust on it from the back of the drawer. Revisiting it, I see it's not a bad idea, so maybe I should stop being so lazy and finish it.
When my son was little, we meandered weekly around the Nashville Zoo. As small children do, we both examined everything from an ant to an anteater. We also faithfully watched the Kratt Brothers on PBS and reenacted them in the house and at the Discover Center. We even met the Kratts.  I bought my son every plastic zoo animal possible. He still has buckets of animals, and perhaps when he has an office, he'll display them. For a brief moment, I thought maybe he'd become a Zoologist, but Tennis is more in the picture today.
No matter what we did together, though, I couldn't stop my mind from conjuring up the other story.
the Murville Zoo
Sherbo Morris is a guy who doesn't fit in anywhere yet fits in everywhere. He's smart but really dumb. He means well, but his amazing ideas can't work in a real business environment, but luckily places of employment have a way of working situations out even with the poorest of management.

"Perhaps the best way to describe Sherbo Morris' mind is to imagine a giant chalkboard extending the blackness of night. Every person he meets writes on that board in specific columns, pointing arrows and crisscrossed ideas with just one minor fault - it erases."
"Like an overloaded circuit, my best friend will black-out in a middle of a conversation. He's still stands there, but his eyes tell you that he's receiving messages from Rectangle World and not hearing what you're saying about you Auntie Furgas' gall bladder operation and the fact that if she weren't so fat it would have gone better for her."
"Mr. Cosines isn't such a bad guy. He just couldn't tolerate an employee who didn't understand the significance of time. Sherbs told me that he couldn't wear a watch because it binds and irritates his wrists as if he'd once been a shackled slave in a former life."
"Just at that moment when the pinkest flamingos in the world appeared beside his grill, he'd been staring at his plastic flock and wished them real. When two actually moved toward his dinner, he thought this was now his turn, but when his wife and child saw the flamingos too, he sighed with relief that he wasn't going insane like his uncle Pat, sister Elisa and cousin Mark.
"Dr. Funke wrapped a pale pink bandage around poor Fred's leg, such a condition he'd never seen before and he is a man ready for retirement. Fred's over-squat body crumpling underneath that entire belly and those little legs quite unable to take the strain."
"A tear fell from the doc's eyes, but not because of the sadness of the bird's condition, which was truly pitiful, but from that stank rising from this slimy slogging shrimp-filled stream."
"Sherbs, look into my eyes, and hear me, chalk it in this time. It is not a good idea to let all the animals free even if they weren't born free."

"A gross grouper landfill is just not sanitary and one janitor cannot clean everything."
"Okay, here's what I'm thinking. Comedy routines are out of style. Well, just by coincidence, no one likes hyenas and black back jackals either."
"What's a black back jackal?"
"Exactly," Sherbo answered.

"See what you've done. The giraffes don't even want to come here anymore. They hate you!" the bully wailed, looking around for something to throw at the girl. The Magnolia flowers would have to do, but the flowers within reach didn't rip off so easy. The kid above him snickered either from the idea of pelting these girls with Magnolia blossoms or that the mean boy was unable to rip the flower out. In any case, that kid held tight to the highest branch, thankful because he would be alive a few seconds longer than anyone else."
"When one girl is threatened, we are all threatened!" the Director of GUFs (Girls United Forever) said holding up Sherbo's No Girls Allowed sign. An industrious sort edited it. In addition to adding the I, they blacked out the No and painted a pink and orange butterfly. President GUF positioned herself a few steps up the tree house so she could look down on her constituents.
WE WILL NOT BE BARRED!" she screamed.
"Something new scrolled into his mind as he rolled over in a ball like a binturong. The binturong did the same. He was searching for the answer of the age-old question, "Why is apple juice not called red juice when orange juice is called orange juice?"
"Sherbo Morris was able to get everyone, all of them, together, every kind of human and nonhuman, and they were smiling and not knocking over fences or trampling each other anymore. They stopped and enjoyed the beauty of the glistening rays of sun off this newly formed lake."
"That takes care of our flamingo problem," Forester said. I just nodded. Ignorance is bliss and whoever said that was a genius."
"Sir, I'm sorry, the zoo is closed. You'll have to come back another day," William said.
"Look Mister, do you know how hard it is to get a flamingo in a Corolla?"

"Good morning Spenser, are you fishing for the two dead people?"
"You see how a person can't get that question formed just right."
 "There's nothing lucky about hanging on to a dead grouper," Pete cuhd.