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Frenchman’s Creek and the All Blacks

Rugby world cup has come and gone. New Zealand reigns as world champs and France as a close second, Australia is third, and the Welsh are fourth. I watched the game at McCormicks standing at the bar. A friend of mine tried to meet me there but it was so crowded – we were literally wall to wall people with no personal space at all – that he stood a few feet from me and neither of us saw each other. The game started at 4am and I’d arrived to a packed house at 2:45am.

But I watched the game.

I knew early on that France would be a contender. As a friend said of France, they usually have one good game in them during world cup and the final was their good game. It was a nail-biter going down to the last second of the game, final 8-7 – a one point differential. New Zealand did not play their usual free flowing game of attack attack attack and scored their only try off their scrum – second rower who got his first rugby try in the world cup – maybe even ever. Second rows don’t see opportunities like that too often. But their defense was incredible. The French threw every attack they had at the all blacks and the all blacks resisted heroically.

The bar on 3rd avenue was packed with French fans singing the French national anthem and other songs I can’t even name. There were  a few of us NZ fans and mostly we just shouted back at them. I had a Guinness and it was grand. When I asked the bartender for coffee at half-time (about 5am EST) he just laughed at me. The place was filled with smoke – even though it’s illegal in NYC inside, anywhere. Even the bartender smoked.

I am passionate about rugby. It is one of the most beautiful, harsh, brutal, challenging sports of all time. It is war on the pitch. I played 16 years (check out my 10 Things (#5) page for my list of injuries) and enjoyed its many aspects as a player and now most definitely enjoy them as a spectator. In the final at least four players on each side had to leave with injuries ranging from blood time-outs (cuts across the face) to concussions, to what could have been a busted knee but is probably ligament damage. When the final whistle blew it was incredible to watch the all blacks celebrate their second world cup victory – only their second. This time they didn’t choke the way they have in past world cups. The number one ranked team in the world finally proved to the world that they truly were number one.

What does this have to do with writing?

Nothing and everything.

The first good novel I wrote (I wrote one before but that was definitely my practice novel just to show myself that I could do it) was called Local Anesthetic and had the game of rugby as a main character. I love that book. It got me my first agent but was never shopped around much (long story about a bad agent relationship) and never picked up by a publisher. I still look at it longingly some days and wonder…

 

Posted by  |  October 28, 2011 | Categories: Blog, Local Anesthetic, Rugby, Rugby World Cup | Leave a comment

Sweat and Tiffany’s – Goodbye Seattle

Okay. Okay. The downhill was worse than the uphill. The walk to Salle Auriol on Harrison was long with stretches of darkness, empty parking lots and offices. At one point I saw a guy on a bike going up a hill I was coming down. We were on a small level space between two monsters. He rested a few moments then put his bike into gear and started pedaling. I really felt for him and hoped he had at least 21 speeds to choose from.

I love fencing salles.

I really do.

The clashing of swords, the sounds of coaches speaking with heavy Polish, Russian, or Hungarian accents, and the energy of fencers competing and honing their craft. Sometimes there’s laughing and smiling, even though they’ve been stuck hard in the chest. Everybody learns from everybody. And as new meat, people swarm to fence against me because I bring new techniques to learn about and figure out how to defeat. It’s a great place.  Did I mention the smell of wet and dry sweat?

Salle Auriol is just such a wonderful place. The business manager,Catherine, met me and gave me a tour of the salle, hooked me up with the three épée fencers in that night, talked to me about my book (she’s a budding novelist herself) and recommended a good place to get food and drink. I fenced against three opponents (I’m probably getting their names wrong so I hope they forgive me) Carmella, Marla, and Greg. Carmella took me apart quickly in my first series of bouts, though I was glad to get a few runs of touches in to remind myself of the skill I can call upon with a little bit of focus. Basically Carmella was good and she gave me a lesson that I only had to pay for in sweat.

Greg was next and he’s only been fencing five months. I focused my work on point control, trying for stop thrusts and thrusts to his wrist. He’s a researcher, doing work on cancer and the immune system. He face lights up when he talks about his work and about this sport he’s found called fencing.

Marla works at Tiffany’s and loves it. She’s also a good épéeist. We were well matched and traded the first two bouts, both close. Her coach was watching from a seat at the end of the strip and gave advice like, “You have to get out of the way of his blade,” and “Don’t let him hit your wrist,” after I scored three touches in a row in just that spot. It made us both laugh. Nothing like a coach with a good sense of humor. Marla won the final bout 5-4 on a series of infighting attacks and ripostes that ended with her final downward thrust hitting me in the ankle. Touché, Marla, you earned it.

After a late dinner at Serious Pie (that’s it’s name, really) I walked another half hour to the light-rail station (flat with no hills) and just about midnight, walked back in the hotel front door.

I’m ready to be home. I know my wife is ready for me to be home. Too much traveling this week and too much double duty on her part keeping the family moving and attending to her consulting work. She’s definitely had the harder work of the two of us.

Oh yeah. And there’s the world cup of rugby final to see.

Posted by  |  October 27, 2011 | Categories: Blog, Fencing, Publicity & Marketing, Seattle, Travel | 2 Comments

Hill of Humongosity – Seattle Day 2

Usually a little walking does not daunt me. I walk at least an hour every day just to the subway and back and taking out the dogs. But the hill you climb from Pioneer Square to Capitol Hill and the Elliot Bay Bookstore is brutal. I got a ride downtown this time and skipped the light-rail then figured I’d just walk the thirty minutes to the bookstore.

How tough could it be? I walk fast. I figured I’d make it in 15 or 20 minutes max.

It was cool and misty but I was sweating heavily by the time I got to the top of Capital Hill and over onto 10th Avenue. Capital Hill shouldn’t be called a hill. The word just doesn’t suit it. Hill of death. Hill of humongosity. Ankle-break hill. Mountain called hill. Really.

Elliot Bay Bookstore is a big indi and I wanted to make an impression. I’m sure my disheveled look and the beads of perspiration rolling down my forehead did the trick. Bookseller Mathew was kind enough to take my book.

“Can I give you my pitch?” I asked.

“Not necessary,” he said.

He checked to make sure he could get it from Ingrams and to make sure it was not self-published (yes, these things do, in my experience over the last six months marketing my book, matter). Satisfied with both, he assured me he’d get it into the hands of their YA specialist. Then he kindly got me directions to the Club Auriol, Fencing Salle – just 30 minutes … down hill … north of where I started.

“Downhill?” I asked.

He nodded sagely.

“Well,” I said, “it’s better than up hill.” And off I went. Back to sweating.

I had planned to go to two fencing salles in two different parts of town but at 7:15pm I knew I would never make it to both. So I went for the closer of the two – Salle Auriol. And I figured I’d work the opposing muscles in my legs on the downward haul – always searching for balance.

Posted by  |  October 26, 2011 | Categories: Blog, Bookstores, Fencing, Publicity & Marketing, Seattle, Travel | 2 Comments

Oxygen Debt and Yoga Surplus

I love Seattle. It’s not New York, but I love it just the same.

I’ve been to Seattle three times now. The first time was after I finished the Peace Corps and I traveled up the west coast to Alaska then across the country to New York (a 6-month trip). I stayed in Seattle for 11 days, a few on Bainbridge Island at the home of a family friend, the rest at a Hostel.Elliot Bay Bookstore was in Pioneer Square – far from it’s present 10th avenue location. I travelled up to Juno by ferry from there and stayed north for a month afterwards. It was sunny six out of eleven days in Seattle, even though everyone swears to me it’s never sunny there.

The second time I was in Seattle it was for the National Association of Drug Court Professionals national conference and I stayed four days – mostly at the conference center but one afternoon we got a tour of some parks on the outskirts of the City by the sister of a colleague. It was sunny every day. A Seattle resident told me, “Yeah we love the summer but we all hate the winter. It rains every day and we don’t get much daylight as the days so much shorter up here. Everyone goes on antidepressants to get through to the spring.”

This third time in Seattle was for only three days, but I definitely made the most of them. I rained every day and I didn’t see the sun.

Four things I noticed this time about what I consider to be a unique and beautiful city include:

  1. This time I walked, bussed, and light-railed a good part of the city and it is oxygen-debt-in-the-thighs hilly. It is also hard to figure out the bus lines but the men in yellow make it all easier than it should be. “Just ask the men in yellow if you get lost,” the hotel manager told me. “They’ll help you find your way.”
  2. In the neighborhoods outside downtown there are a lot of runners – I mean a lot. They run alone, in pairs, and in packs. They run in the rain and mist.
  3. The city overall is pretty clean – now remember I’m from New York City which is not.
  4. There are a lot of yoga studios, massage and wellness centers. This could have been the neighborhood I was in but I don’t think so. This is a city relaxed with the concept of new age.
  5. Booksellers are friendly at the indies. This should go without saying but… it doesn’t. But I had three for three good experiences at indies and that was cool.

Posted by  |  October 25, 2011 | Categories: Blog, Bookstores, Seattle, Travel | 1 Comment

Orca Pass – Seattle, Day 1 of 3

The next four entries are from last week in Seattle.

Facilitation Skills training in Seattle, teaching court practitioners how to facilitate training sessions around an online curriculum.

One day of travel.

One day of work.

One day of travel home.

Mockingbird Books

Sue Nevins at Mockingbird Books

Sue Nevins at Mockingbird Books

I stayed at a hotel in the South Center, near the airport so I had to really work to get downtown. Shuttle to the airport. Light rail to the last stop. A bus and some walking took me to Mockingbird Books.

Sue Nevins was prepared for me, having looked up information about Open Wounds on my website. This has never happened before. I don’t have to pitch. She has questions already ready for me about where to place the book shelf-wise based on language and content. Sue is incredible.

The store is a beautiful bookstore thriving selling children’s books, with a small café and children’s play area. If we lived in Seattle we’d be hanging out at Mockingbird. And Sue knows her books. For almost half an hour she gave me a tour of books that my son might like. I left with four. He got Amulet: Stonekeeper Book 1 (a beautiful graphic novel of mystery, spookiness, and adventure), Sticky Burr: The Prickly Peril (graphic novel about burrs – work with me on this it’s very funny and cute and good for budding artists with graphic novel potential), Merlin (Merlin’s story at the age of 12) and Virus on Orbis One (science fiction to give my son something a little different for him to chew on).

I should do a better job of planning these things out. My publicist (JKS in the hands of Sami Lien who does all the finding of bookstores I should hit and contacts them to see if they’ll take a visit with a smile and calls the fencing salles too) draws a big net. I’m ambitious but come up against the constraints of time and transportation every trip.

Sue told me I should go to Third Place Books also because it was in walking distance – only about twenty minutes – and they had a good pub underneath them. I was thirsty and I needed to eat dinner. The three-hour time difference was knocking me out.

At Third Place I talked to the owner, Michael Ravena, and he seemed pleased both at Sue’s referral and to listen to me talk briefly about Open Wounds. He read a few pages of different parts of the book while I watched, and smiled at a description of Nicolai Varvarinski. “That’s great,” he said. With a handshake and a thank you, I asked for directions to the pub.

The beer (Seattle has a lot of home local brews) was good and the food was even better. The World Series was on the television – no world cup rugby but that can wait until early Sunday morning when France and New Zealand will remake the clash of the titans.

Posted by  |  October 24, 2011 | Categories: Blog, Bookstores, JKSCommunications, Publicity & Marketing, Travel | 4 Comments