Twas the night before Christmas and all through the bus, the driver was nervous, making a fuss.
The book was now written, submitted and done, but what if none sold, not a single one?
The passengers were nestled, stuck to their leather seats, while tapping their toes to the radio beat.
When from the back of the bus arose such a clatter, I pulled the bus over to see what was the matter.
I pushed the “door” button and walked to the back, a stupid flat tire, this would get us off track.
The moon was huge, giant and bright and the tire was flat with no spare in sight.
When what to my crying eyes should appear, a shiny red tow truck and a guy with a beer.
On the hood of the truck was a big red bow and on the side it said, “Mistle-Tow.”
The little old driver was wasted and hairy, the tag on his shirt said that his name was Jerry.
More rapid than diarrhea his cures they came, he cussed like a sailor and lacked any shame.
He scratched and he burped and he even passed gas, he then spit tobacco in a McDonald’s collector glass.
He was covered in fur from the dog at his side and he patted the seat and offered a ride.
I politely declined, biting my lip, rubbing the pistol I had at my hip.
His eyes full of blood, red as a cherry, he said, “hello Darling, my name is Jerry.”
With his mouth full of drool and his white beard all dirty, I looked at my watch it was 11:30.
I asked him to help me, to please change my tire, I could see his shirt wet as he began to perspire.
He got out of the truck and agreed to assist, he worked very fast and nothing was missed.
I offered to pay him but he blew me off in a hurry, said, “Merry Christmas honey, there’s no need to worry.”
The Book-Writers-Express bus was ready to rock, than he reached into his pants and pulled out his clock. (I know what you were thinking- shame on you!)
“It’s time to move on my new writer friend, your book will do well you’ll see in the end.”
He gave me a Coor’s light and I opened it fast, I chugged it right down and spit on the grass.
He got into his truck and with a hand in the air; he swerved down the highway, avoiding a deer.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, “JERRY Christmas to all and to all a good WRITE!”
Sometimes when you are writing it’s difficult to give a good visual description of what you want your readers to be experiencing. You have a vision in your head and as a writer it’s challenging to put that vision in someone else’s head. It’s like when you are talking to someone and they have a different visual than what you do.
Here is the perfect example. I am a true bargain hunter and one day when I was shopping at a Good Will store with my son I stumbled upon the ultimate buy. A doll from the Toy Story movie, it was Woody complete with his hat and little bandana. My son was just as happy as I was. As I was leaving the store my husband called and the conversation went like this:
Me: (In an excited voice) oh, hi honey you are NEVER going to believe what happened today. We were just shopping at Good Will and your son got a Woody!
My Husband: (Silence)
Me: Aren’t you happy for him? Didn’t you hear what I said, he got a Woody!
My Husband: About what?
Me: What do you mean about what?! He got a Woody and he’s in the car playing with it right now, isn’t that
My Husband: Are you OK?
Me: Yeah, I’m OK why?
My Husband: (Agitated) so he’s sitting in the backseat right now playing with his Woody? Don’t you think he’s a little young for that?
Me: Well how old were you when you got your first Woody? Oh that’s right they didn’t have Woody’s back then did they?
My Husband: Smart ass!
Me: I don’t understand what your problem is, are you pissed because it’s a doll?
My Husband: (Relieved) it’s a doll?! I thought you were talking about something else.
WTF,OMG,LOL! We both died laughing when we finally got on the same page.
There you have it, a good conversation turned upside down just because I wasn’t descriptive enough. It’s also possible to get a visual in your head by just a sound you hear.
Another example happens at least once a month at my house. Mother nature will cast her dirty little spell on me and as I’m in the bathroom with the door locked, unwrapping a tampon, my son will appear out of nowhere (I swear he has radar), knocking on the door, “Mom, I know you are eating a snack in there, can I have one too?” He actually believes that I hide in the bathroom and eat snacks without him. “Mom I can HEAR the wrapper, I know you are eating candy in there. It’s not my Halloween candy is
it?” “No honey, I promise it’s not your Halloween candy.” “Will you just save me one bite Mom?” “I most certainly will not – go clean your room or
something!” I’m sure all the Kindergarten kids have conversations at school about the conspiracies going on at home with the mom’s hiding in the bathrooms and eating candy. I’m sure of it.
Well it’s time to get this bus moving. Jackie Ward is passing out some Ooey-Gooey-Breakfast-Rolls that she just baked and Mitch Alverez is begging me to make a stop in his home town of Bulverde, Texas. I think we just might do that Mitch, we could use a few cowboys and cowgirls on this bus.
I’ll never forget that Easter we spent with you in Texas, I was at the zoo on Easter and people were having picnics and hitting pinatas with sticks. You just don’t see shit like that in Iowa on Easter!
Have a Good Day!