Before I get started I’ll say that I’ve been Having a real hard time these past weeks concentrating on my novels. A, because I’m going through personal issues that need to fade down a bit before I can devote myself and my mind to finishing up my books, and B, because I’m preparing to set off for another adventure. I pushed the date of departure back to the twenty-first of august, because I’m picking up a couple random jobs here and there, and I don’t plan on coming back to Michigan to ever live again, so I want to make sure that I have enough money to get an apartment for a couple of months somewhere and finish my novels and come up with the next plan in where my life is going, and nope, I really don’t have a clue.
Anyway, I said that I would share more adventures that I’ve had in american writing, so I’ll do that, and this post will be the first in a small series of separating the writer adventurer man, me, and the fictional character in my books who travels between space and time. Ha. So this is for fun, what really did go down. Let’s begin. …
(Everything I’ve done in my life has been for what I consider just part of the written research method)
Paradise
I went here last winter because it appears in the book, Visions of Michigan, so I had to see what the town is all about. Snow. Lots of snow. I always go to the U.P in the winter. It’s the only time people will let me borrow their car. — atParadise Inn.
Marquette Michigan
I slept in the parking lot for two nights here because I didn’t have anything to do. — at Walmart Marquette.
Atlanta
I’ve been to this terror more than a handful of times. If you want to get the true american experience, go here. You might wonder how any of THIS is even possible. — atGreyhound Station Atlanta, GA.
Saint Pete Florida
Someone told me that this was Jack Kerouac’s hangout (it never was). So I made it my spot when I go down to Saint Pete. It’s a good dive bar. Something crazy always happens to me, and one night I met this kid who was, as he told me of “Canadian Arab decent”, and I guess he flew down there to see the Tampa Bay Rays vs the Toronto Blue Jays play baseball. I didn’t care and he needed a smoke. Then he just said come on and he made me his wing-man. Whatever, I had three bucks to my name. He bought me tons of drinks and spent a shit ton of money, laughing that he “can’t do anything with it in Canada”, and yeah I agreed, because this all sounded good to me. We had a wild and just strange kinda night, and he ended up going to the strip club, and I declined, because at this point I somehow took over a VIP section of this odd dungeon themed bar. Everybody thought I was important, even the bouncers were asking me if I needed anything, ha, and I was giving away drinks and just laughing with all sorts of people, met some of the prettiest girls I’ve ever been invited to the bathroom with. It was strange. In the morning I woke up on the Saint Pete Pier, and get this, to a non-profit group setting up an Alzheimer awareness picnic, this was weirdly ironic I thought, and I remembered hearing dolphins and talking to some homeless man from Germany. Anyway, I was hung over and needed to go back to the pad, so then I stumbled back to the bus depot without money. Thankfully the bus driver said “what you got? I said “half a pack of smokes” he took my smokes, I took three, he looked at me like I was breaking the deal, I said “come on man”, “fine” he said “get on:” ha ha. that was a fun night. — at Mastrys.
Adventures In American Writing 