Finding my Inner Badass

The last couple of days, I've needed to tap into some anger.

I needed prison songs. I needed "Dude on the verge of exploding" stuff. When that happens, my three buds (Bruce, Kris and Johnny) won't do. When things need to be really bad (in a good way), I need Hag.

Why?

I may have mentioned (a few dozen times) that a good chunk of my new novel takes place in a prison. My protag is an inmate. So who better to get me in an inmate's mindset than a former inmate?

Now playing on iTunes: Hag: The Best of Merle Haggard. I'm wallowing in my redneck upbringing. When I grew up, redneck was a term of affection (and it still is among my friends from Cooperstown, one of whom lives on a self-created street called Redneck Drive--he's one of the guys doing VenisonFest with Ed Novak and me).

So Hag's rocking his way through his greatest hits (is there a better country song than "I Think I'll Just Stay Here and Drink"?), because I need to climb down and grab the third rail. Seems both my agents love what they've seen of my new novel. Among other things, they want me to keep my protagonist exactly the way he is. Which is pretty much what the Great and Gifted Jamie Ford opined the other day.

So I've dialed up Merle on the old laptop. He's magic, as always.

Bottom line, I need to step up my pace. That starts now. Hag helped.

We will, of course, still be celebrating next week's National Holiday. In fact, stop in on Saturday, when Bruce turns 57. I have a very special guest appearing here for one post only. If you're a fellow evangelical Bruce fan, you'll want to come by for the virtual house party. I can guarantee that when the countdown officially begins this Sunday, there'll be nothing but the Boss anywhere near the stereo.

Anybody have any requests? How about Favorite Bruce Moments?

If you're following the links on the right-hand side, the fabulous Jim Atwell has gotten three columns (count 'em, one, two, three) out of a bunch of lost cows.

Not funny, you say? Click on over to the Cooperstown Crier website. I dare you not to laugh.

On other matters, the first cold of the fall has arrived. I mean the kind of cold that follows "common," not the kind that precedes "weather." Care to guess who was lucky enough to benefit from Mother Nature's (or some snotty kid's) largesse?

Yeah. The guy who needs to step up the pace is sidelined by a cold. But I've purchased NyQuil, which means I'm about to have:

1. A great night's sleep
2. Crazy dreams
3. Need for an alarm clock
4. A wake-up call
5. Somebody haul my ass off the mattress.

The Saint and Oldest Son leave for school at 6:40 a.m. Middle Child is strong, but not strong enough to separate his old man from a NyQuil slumber. Daughter will be tuned in to Hi-Five if she's awake, so Middle Child will have to go it alone, or hope The Saint stays around an extra five minutes. One thing's for sure: The morning commute will be even more of an adventure than usual.

I wish you crazy dreams as well.

Adam