Charlie Faust and his mostly true life

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Loonies in the Dugout is my novel about Charlie Faust, a man who believed he could pitch the New York Giants to a pennant in 1911. The problem was he was not a baseball player, let alone a pitcher, yet he did end up pitching with the Giants during the season. The story is baseball fiction, a coming-of-age novel centering on Chet Koski, a fictional pitcher with the Giants, as well as a satire on celebrity and fame. Here is an excerpt from the novel. It is an e-book available on Amazon.

“My name is Charles Victor Faust, Mr. McGraw, and I am here because a fortune teller in Wichita, Kansas, a woman of uncommon insight into a mans destiny and whose integrity and honesty is beyond approach told me I was going to be a pitching star and help the New York Giants win the National League pennant. She was right sure about it. She was positive as the sun is hot. So better sign me up and give me a uniform for I am ready today if you need me.”

Faust, who must have been 6’ 3” or so, was squinting down at McGraw with a goofy looking, harmless smile which showed a gap between a couple of teeth and McGraw, who stood all of 5’7”, was looking up at Faust, but not with a smile. McGraw’s nickname should have been “Laughing Johnny.” The Devil was in his eyes.

There was stillness, a disarming quiet during the pause while they eyed each other that drowned out all noise.

In his high pitched, sharp and piercing Irish voice, McGraw asked “What do you mean she was beyond approach? Do you mean beyond reproach?”

“Huh.” The loon looked befuddled.

“You did approach her didn’t you?”

“I did not touch her at all. I was a perfect gentleman.”

“I am sure you were. Do you mean to say she was an honest woman?”

“Absolutely she was.”

“How much did she charge you for this great insight into your future?”

“Mr. McGraw, no price is too high when your future is laid open to you and you can follow your destiny.”

“Give me the ball and your glove Koski,” barked McGraw. He gave Faust my glove, handed him the ball and told him to go the pitching box and get ready to throw. Muggsy went behind home plate and took the catchers glove from our star catcher, Chief Meyers, squatted down, and yelled out to Faust to throw a hard one.

So Mr. Charles Victory Faust, a man of about thirty or thirty-three by my estimate, dressed in his scruffy dark suit and still wearing his derby, stood in the pitchers box and leaned back with his right foot on the rubber, the right knee bent at an angle, his left leg straight, and his arms tight across his chest. Bringing both arms up over his head, his right arm went into a whirlwind motion, going round and round, his left arm pointing straight up to the heavens. His right arm continued whirling and whirling, faster and faster, then he finally brings both arms together while still over his head, leaned forward and with great thoughtfulness stepped stiffly forward with his left foot-I tell you the look on his face reminded me of a hunting dog who just got the scent-and threw the ball straight overhand. Weirdest motion I ever did see.

The ball took as long to get to McGraw as the train does from New York to St. Louis. It bounced in front of the plate, about a foot or so to the left, skipping by McGraw.

“Again!” yelled Muggsy. Meyers picked up the ball which had rolled slowly towards the stands and threw it to Faust. Amazingly, to everyone I am sure, Charley caught the ball.

Well, Charley goes into his loon whirlwind motion and once again let’s loose a pitch so slow you could count the stitches on the ball. He must have thrown about a dozen pitches and to his credit, some of the throws were actually getting close to the plate.

McGraw stood up and yelled at Charley to grab a bat as he wanted so see how he hit. As Faust loped towards home plate, McGraw went to the pitching rubber and called over Laughing Larry, Buck Herzog, our third baseman, Art Fletcher, our short stop, and Fred Merkle our first baseman. I had a feeling something was afoot.

McGraw asked if Charley was ready. He was standing to the right of home plate, the bat on his shoulder. He announced he was ready for action. So McGraw laid one in belt high and down the middle of the plate; a pitch any professional hitter, who standing in the box, would have swatted to the far reaches of the outfield. Charley swung at the ball, his body all twisted like a rung out mop. But he hit the damn ball. It did not reach the outfield though, as the bat just caught a slight piece of the ball and it bounced a couple of times towards McGraw who came in to pick it up.

The bugs-that was what we call baseball enthusiasts who come to the games- always showed up early, sometimes as much as two, three hours, and now they were getting into the fun, yelling for the loon to run and run he did. McGraw waited for Charley to get close to first, then threw the ball past Merkle, who chased it down as Charley slid awkwardly into first, if slide is the correct word. Everybody was yelling for him to run to second, so he got up and started to run. Merkle threw to Doyle who was perched on second. As the disheveled loon came towards the bag, Laughing Larry yelled, “Slide! Slide! Slide!” And Charley did. Well as any loon could slide. He lumbered in and sort of fell sideways rolling over and over, his head tucked into his chest, as he crossed the bag. The ball sailed past Doyle, who yelled, “Run! Run!”

Charley got up and headed towards third as Fletcher got the ball and threw to Herzog. Charley went into his rolling slide, nearly knocking over Buck, who missed the ball. After getting up Charley ran with a loping gait towards the plate, yelling “Yippity, yippity, yip, yap… yuppity, yuppity, yippity” and this time did not roll into home plate, but dove feet first as Meyers jumped out of the way. Charley bounced once, then skidded more than slid, ending up in a sitting position, his legs pinned underneath him like a pretzel. He was short of home plate by three feet.

The bugs were whooping and hollering. When Charley got up, his Sunday suit was not fit for service. The trousers had large holes in both knees, there was a big split through the crotch and his jacket was torn at the seams below both armpits. Merkle brought Charley’s derby, which had flown off in his attempted slide at first. Somehow there was a big dent in the top of the derby which gave Merkle a great laugh.

McGraw and the boys had their fun, the bugs were entertained, and Charley was still smiling.

The Week That Wasn’t and What To Do

Posted on by under creative writing, dailies, humor, inspiration, Uncategorized, writers

This happened a few weeks ago.

First, the Arizona Coyotes invited me and a friend to a game. I love free tickets, so my friend and I planned to fly to Phoenix the day of the game. But the day before the flight  my friend had a kidney stone problem, I could not find anyone at last minute, so I contacted Coyotes and told them I was unable to attend. Rats! And they beat Calgary 2-0. Rats!

Then my new printer was not communicating with my computer. They stubbornly ignored each other like a married couple after an argument. Both sulking, neither giving in, a standoff with no resolution for days. Finally they made up and began working together.

The next day I came home from a meeting to road construction outside my house. They had been working on upgrading the sewer system, an improvement designed to prevent the old system from flushing unwanted waste out into the street. As if there is wanted waste. One man asked if I had a land line. I answered no, but my computer works off that line. Oops. They had knocked down the line.

They called someone who came within an hour to fix it and left. Later I discovered there was no connection. Huh? The next day I told the foreman my problem and he said he knew a guy who would get here and fix it. So I waited. And waited. The entire day I was a prisoner waiting for the pardon to free me. The guy never showed. I never saw the foreman again. The next day I called the company who provides my service. They would send someone, but he could not get there until after four. I had seven more hours to wait. The man showed and after examining everything he said the guy from yesterday hooked up the line wrong.

Two days wasted waiting for my phone line hookup. I thought I would go crazy. I was like a drug addict waiting for a fix. I need to get on the Internet. I have to do this,  I have to do that, and more again. Who emailed me? What spam did I get? Was my identity stolen in my absence? Is the digital world still there?

So what does one do when an entire week goes haywire. Well one thing is to throw objects to express your angry. But nothing breakable, or items which would break something else. I recommend rolled up socks. Or take a full box of toothpicks and throw them at a wall. It should be a wall in the kitchen because they can be swept up easily, unlike a carpeted room. Trust me.

Or you can just laugh at the insanity around you, that you are really not in control, that there are forces sometimes working against you. Ha Ha.

But you can’t laugh until the week has subsided, the unnamed forces withdrawn, a retreat to regroup for another attack some other week. It has now been four or five weeks. I am not laughing.

Today I tried to log in to WordPress to create this post. The login ignored me. I could not login. Finally I turned off my computer for a few minutes, restarted, and spoiler alert-it is working. Must have been a reconnaissance probe testing for a weakness in my defense. I won today, maybe this will be a good week.

I hope your week was a good one.

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BACK FROM THE DEAD

Posted on by under authors, dailies, e-books, fiction, inspiration, Uncategorized, writing

I am not dead, not anymore anyway. My previous blog was October 18th. Around that time I had a medical issue that put me down for over a month. It affected my brain and my legs. Recovery was slow and in truth, still am recovering, but have progressed well thanks to meds, exercise, and diet.

Though I took time off from blogging I used the time to finish my latest e-book for Amazon, though I have yet to push the publish button. Will do so soon.

When your body betrays you many things start weighing on your mind. Like making out a will in which you are making uncomfortable decisions. I want to take everything with me; I still have a ton of unread books and cool collectibles. Why do I have to designate who gets what? Without a radio, TV, or Internet how do I keep abreast of baseball and hockey? Making out a will is like giving up, not only your stuff, but signing away your life. It’s an admission you can’t live forever.

Then other things creep into your mind to weigh in on, like checking on burial vs. cremation by talking with mortuaries and cemeteries. Like how soon will the end come and if it doesn’t come, can I get my money back. Dying is expensive. Maybe I should go into the mountains, lie down, and wait for bears or cougars so I can provide a meal for creatures of the woods and be recycled into nature.

I can joke about it now, but that first month was filled with depression. I hated my body and its betrayal. I only went to the doctors office and the grocery store. I saw no friends. Only took phone calls and communicated by email and texts.

Today I check the obituaries in the newspaper to see if I have passed on yet. For all I know, I could be a ghost. It doesn’t hurt to check the paper to double check.

Besides finishing my book, I started to research my next project. It will require a lot more research. But I have finished the first chapter. So feel good about that.

We all know the end will come, our life will end. But when young we ignore it and rightly so. In order to function, in order to truly live we must believe we are immortal. Death is for others, not me. If we didn’t believe that we’d go nuts.

I’m older now, there are more years behind me than ahead of me. But I still think I will continue to live even with my recent issues. It keeps me going. reader

Research Suggestion For Writers To Better Their Story

Posted on by under books, creative writing, dailies, fiction, Uncategorized, writers

Research is an important tool for writers. Whether you are writing a western or a police procedural story, for example, you want details to be accurate. But there is another type of research that is just as important.

You want your characters to be real, ones readers can identify with. They have a type of personality, they have motivations,  they have strengths and insecurities. So in creating a character there is also research involved. Let me give an example.

I am writing a murder mystery. The victim is a young woman. We know nothing about her. She is fished out of a canal on the first page. During the course of the novel we learn about her and not just facts, more about who she is behind the facts.

I need to research the type of woman I want her to be. So I look at a book entitled Women Who Run With the Wolves.  The book contains myths and stories of the wild woman archetype. I focus on four chapters. One contains mythical stories about women as naïve prey. Another chapter is Hunting: When the Heart is a Lonely Hunter. The point is to learn about the mythical and psychological aspects of who this woman is, to give flesh and blood to her.

I am also reading Love and Limerence which is providing some great insight into men and women, about what love is and what it might not be.

I am also checking through Games People Play by Dr. Eric Byrne, about the psychological games we play-and there are many. This will help when her friends talk about her, telling specific stories indicating something of her character, her nature.

There are many books to chose from, not just books like The Meaning of Persons or Please Understand Me, but books on mythology from countries around the world.

The more research you do about the psychology of people, of archetypes, of mythology, the more you see who your character is going to become. The character will be real, will be someone readers can understand. All because of research.

Of course, since my story takes place in 1928, I need to research fashion, automobiles, all the little details, something of the times, making sure nobody watch’s TV or uses a cellphone. Writers always take the time to get those things correct, but we should never take for granted the characters to be created. Not how to create them.

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What You Can Learn From a Confused Lion

Posted on by under dailies, inspiration, Uncategorized, writing

In a recent Clint Hurdle blog James Clear told the story about Clyde Beatty, famous lion tamer. He was the first to use a chair and whip to go into a cage with a lion. I had assumed all my life the chair was for protection. It wasn’t. Beaty knew the Lion, seeing the chair with 4 legs in his face, would be confused as he could not decide which leg to attack, so the lion was essentially paralyzed by indecision.

I think we all are faced with so many choices at times that we can’t figure out how to proceed.

In 1999 I bought my first computer. I knew nothing about them, but I wanted one. So I decided to buy one and figure out through trial and error how to use it. The computer was a Gateway, a popular company at the time. I followed the instructions and assembled it which was a miracle in itself as I have trouble understanding instructions. Fortunately the instructions had pretty pictures that showed what to do.

It came time to push start, so I pushed it. I was unaware that their computer, when it came on, would have a series of loud musical notes. It caught me by surprise and I nearly fell backwards off my chair. But I was online and part of the new world.

The point is to make a decision, then figure things out.

Take writing for example. Nobody really knows how to begin because too many people say do this, not that. Too many conflicting opinions. I recall reading books and articles when I first said ‘I want to write’. In the end I decided to trust my instincts. Just start a story. I can change things later, I can edit, I can add scenes, I can take out passages. I just had to ignore the legs of the chair with so many opinions on how to write and just attack on my own.

Trying to learn is good, nothing wrong about that, but in the end, at some point, you take the plunge and go for it. Whatever you decide you will learn more by trial and error because you must get into whatever you choose and learn for yourself.

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Need Your Help and Opinion

Posted on by under authors, dailies, fiction, Uncategorized

The image below is a possible cover for my new e-book to be published on Amazon. Original title was Head on a Grave, thus the cemetery setting. It is a murder mystery set in 1928 with more than one murder. I would like to know your thoughts about the cover. Because of the brightness, is it wrong for a mystery? Or should there be something more sinister? I like the idea of the not so perfect lettering, but that is only one opinion. So if you like it or not I would appreciate your thoughts. Thanks.

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One Simple Lesson For A Happy Life

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In Travels with Epicurus, subtitled A Journey to a Greek Island in Search of a Fulfilled Life, the following story was told by the author Daniel Klein, who learned it had been told by Aegean islanders for a long time.

A prosperous Greek American was visiting one of the Aegean islands one day when “he comes upon an old Greek man sitting on a rock, sipping a glass of ouzo, and lazily staring at the sun setting into the seas. The American notices there are olive trees growing on the hills behind the old Greek, but that they are untended, with olives just dropping here and there onto the ground. He asks who the trees belong to.

“They’re mine,” the Greek replies.

“Don’t you gather the olives?” the American asks.

“I just pick one when I want one,” the old man says.

“But don’t you realize that if you pruned the trees and picked the olives at their peak, you could sell them? In America everybody is crazy about virgin olive oil, and they pay a damned good price for it.”

“What would I do with the money?” the old Greek asks.

“Why, you could build yourself a big house and hire servants to do everything for you.”

“And then what would I do?

“You could do anything you want.”

“You mean, like sit outside and sip ouzo at sunset?”

The above story is not unlike the old adage about stopping to smell the roses. If you are young, ambitious, want the big house and servants you are unlikely to take the advice. It is only the elders among us, who realize that sitting on the beach at sunset, drinking wine, watching the sun set, that truly appreciate what life offers. Simple pleasures are the great rewards, bringing peace and serenity. Stay calm, enjoy.

Skol!

 

 

Cortes, Burning Ships, Excuses, Writing goals

Posted on by under authors, dailies, inspiration, Uncategorized

In Roger Van Oech’s book A Whack on the side of the Head, a book on how to be creative that is still going strong since it was published in 1983, he writes something I did not know about the Spanish explorer Hernan Cortes that is, shall we say disarming.

When Cortes landed his ships at Veracruz he burned all his ships. He did this to eliminate one option, leaving his men with only two. You either fight, he told them, or you die. Going home was no longer an option.

Van Oech writes “Sometimes it takes more creativity to get rid of the excuses we put in the way than it does to come up with the idea in the first place.”

I must admit I am guilty of using excuses to get in the way of writing and my excuses are very creative, along the lines of the kid who told his teacher, “The dog ate my homework.”

Cortes took away an excuse about whether to fight or not. His men really had no choice. I suppose I could burn my house down and write at the library with my laptop, but that option would not solve the problem as I would still find more excuses, then have to burn down the library.

The thing of it is, we procrastinators, we excuse makers, know we are avoiding what we should be doing. We are not fooling ourselves.

Van Oech asks the question of what three factors will make it difficult for you to reach your objective? How can you get rid of excuses?

Getting rid of excuses requires self discipline. Take Map Quest or any other app that gives your destination with directions. You follow them-and if they are correct, not always the case-you arrive at your destination. In the process of reaching your destination you took each turn along the path.

Perhaps each writer, or anyone with a goal, should create a type of map with a starting point, an end destination, then fill in the steps to take in order to reach the goal. And if, like the occasional misinformation on the directional map, you run into a burning ship, you adjust and continue your journey; you either fight the fight or your goals die.

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How Writing Nothing Is Good For Writers

Posted on by under authors, dailies, Uncategorized, writers

An intelligent man, or perhaps it was a woman, once said, “Do nothing and nothing will happen.” That makes sense. If you’re hungry and do nothing, you won’t eat. You have  to do something, like fix your meal, or at least, grab a bag of chips. If you want to write a story, you must sit down and write. . .

But that does not always work. I believe it was Winnie-the-Pooh who said “Don’t underestimate the value of doing nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.”

And there is truth in what Winnie said and it has to do with your brain. The best creative ideas come about when your brain is idle, uncluttered with random thoughts, white noise, distractive thoughts; anything that gets in your way. Sometimes writers overthink, try to hard and your mind is stuck in muck. You must listen to “things you can’t hear.”

But how?

Case in point from personal experience. I had trouble coming up with an acceptable ending to my e-mystery Loonies in Hollywood. The story is based on the actual murder of silent film director William Desmond Taylor in 1922. The case remains unsolved. I selected one of the many suspects (I read four non-fiction books on the murder, each had a different killer), but could not figure out how to place the person at the crime scene because another person was standing outside the bungalow and there was a witness who saw someone walk away from the residence. It was going to be tricky. I thought and thought. Then thought some more. I gave up. Then a week or two later after ‘doing nothing’ I woke up one morning and the ending emerged in its entirety without any pop-up blocker to stop it. It was so simple. Why did I not see it before?

So I know from experience that by doing nothing, something will happen. That by not thinking of a solution your brain works behind the scenes, just like some things your computer does for you.

Don’t force your brain to a solution by overloading it, trust in nothing and it will work out the solution for you. It requires patience and a leap of faith but it works. Think about it. When was Winnie-the-Pooh ever wrong.

Never!

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Bookman’s Promise, Lichtenberg, and Me

Posted on by under authors, books, dailies, Uncategorized, writers

I am only 74 pages into The Bookman’s Promise by John Dunning, the third book of five in the Cliff Janeway novels and I already know I will buy the other four. The reason is simple. The writing.

In the story Janeway is talking about Richard Burton, the explorer, not the actor. He mentions that after his death, Burton’s wife “torched. . .forty years of unpublished manuscripts, journals, and notes. . .to purify his image.” She did not want anything to taint his image with the Church, though it was a bit late. But that is another story.

Then Janeway says “This is why I am not religious. If and when we do learn the true secret of the universe, some kind of religion will be there to hide it. To cover it up. To persecute and shred, to burn and destroy. They stay in business by keeping us in the Dark Ages. Darkness is what they sell.”

This is strong writing. Comparing what Burton’s wife did to her husband’s unpublished works (bad girl) to a conspiratorial view of religious purpose, and making it short, concise and clear. There need be no elaboration.

This is the joy for me of reading. Not just the craft of writing done well, but learning about Burton, whose published  books, now rare, factor into the story as part of the plot. One should not assume you learn nothing in reading fiction.

Later, Janeway, an ex-cop, now rare bookseller is talking how the computer leveled the playing field in rare book seling. It tells people what books are selling for around the world, but not “how to identify a true first edition of One Hundred Years of Solitude.”

Then Janeway quotes Lichtenberg, German physicist, who said, “A book is a mirror. If an ass peers into it, you can’t expect an apostle to look out.”  A computer, like the mirror, can only do so much. A computer can’t make us experts in rare books, and if both book and mirror are reflective, neither will make us more than we are.

Lichtenberg was also a satirist who said, “I thank the Lord a thousand times for having made me become an atheist.” He gave credit where credit was due.

So this was my joy of reading the first 74 pages of Dunning’s book this Sunday afternoon that I wanted to share. Now back to reading.

life is like a book