It’s been while since I posted anything here or over on The Wright Rants but there’s been a lot going on in our lives lately and, since much of what’s been going on has inspired me to be more creative, I thought I’d try to get back into using my online resources again.  So, with that in mind, here’s an update.

For me, the biggest and most exciting thing going on right now is Haint Blue, my play that’s being produced at the Chattanooga Theatre Centre.  Chances are, if you’re looking at this page, you’re probably a friend of mine and already know about the play but, in case you just surfed in here from another person’s MySpace page, here’s the low down:

Every two years, the Chattanooga Theatre Centre (a really great community theatre) has a festival of new plays and, this year, my play, Haint Blue was the grand prize winner.  That means it gets a full production as part of the CTC’s Circle Series.  It premiered on March 28^th and will close on Saturday, April 12^th after eight performances.  The cast and crew are beyond amazing and the performances have been a hundred times better than the way it played out in my head.   In addition to the indescribably thrill of seeing my first attempt at a play produced by great actors and a great director, there have been three other major benefits.

First, the whole process has been—and continues to be—a terrific learning experience.  Because I got to work with the actors and director and stage manager to refine and revise the play, it is now much, much stronger and, I hope, more riveting.

Second, I have met some really amazing and very interesting people who I hope will continue to be a part of our lives long after the play has closed.

The third benefit is that it has been that it has really motivated me to spend less time playing Age of Empires and Tiger Woods Golf and more time actually writing and working on other creative endeavors.  To that end, I am updating this page, my Rants page and my Café Press Store.

The Café Press Store is a new venture/adventure for me.  I just started it a few weeks ago and don’t really have much up there yet.  I’m planning on using it for a variety of things at first and, depending upon how well individual products sell (or don’t sell), I might expand it to individual stores for each group of products.  Right now, the site has some funky and corny cartoon art things as well as some of my photography.

The cartoon art is a way of trying to make some money off the doodles I do in meetings and just to kill time when I’m bored.  I’m definitely no artist but these are fun.  I call them Very Dark People and I hope to have many more up soon.

I also have a series of photos that I call While Thinking About You.  These are black and white photos with some little bits of really cheesy and/or sappy little bits of prose beneath them.  When I read this stuff, I still can’t believe I actually wrote it.  It doesn’t seem like something I would do but I guess, deep inside, I’m a big, romantic softie.

On the  Café Press Store you will also find a good bit of Haint Blue merchandise.  These were the pieces I created to test out the store and, since I’m not trying to make a profit off the play, all those items have not been marked up.  The cost you see on that page is simply the cost to produce the item with no profit for me.  So, if you want some Haint Blue gear, that’s the place to get it.

If you’re at all interested in my writing, Café Press is the place to pick up Very Dark Places, a self-published collection of my short stories.  There’s even a copy of Haint Blue on there (again at no mark-up) but it’s an early version and not the version that will be marketed after I finish all the revisions.

One other creative activity note.  I think I’m going to use  The Wright Rants to serialize my new novel 20 Days & 20 Nights.  I’m going to post the first chapter today and my plan is to try to add a new chapter (or at least a significant chunk of a chapter) every week or so.  Perhaps, if I write with a deadline in mind, I can actually finish the fucking thing.

I don’t really use my Facebook for much more than playing Scrabulous with Ben (and anyone else who wants to play) but Christie seems to like Facebook a lot so I might have to look into expanding that a bit.

Now... In personal news, things are going really well for us.  We just finished building a new screened patio out back (actually we had it built and didn’t do a bit of the work ourselves) so you have to come see us, hang out and have a few drinks.

I’m also getting really close to FINALLY finishing my goddamn BA after almost 20 years of trying.  For those of you who don’t know, I went to UTC full-time for two years right out of high school and was a horrible student.  I started working at WDEF TV the day after the last class of my sophomore year and learned more in my first two weeks there than I did in the whole first two years of college so I sort of lost interest in school and cut back to part time for the next couple of years.  I quit when I was at the junior level and have been messing around with a class or two here and there off and on for about two decades.  After a really frustrating (but fun) year of night classes at UTC (that was 2006-’07), I decided to go with an online degree and, after about a year, the end is in sight.  If everything goes well, I should have my Bachelor’s degree before Thanksgiving.  After that, I can move on to getting an MA from a school people have actually heard of.

Speaking of school, I really should be writing the final paper for the class I have now but that bores the crap out of me so I’m off to do more creative (and, hopefully, revenue enhancing) stuff but I promise to be more diligent about updating my online pages.

- Lee

Christie blogged.  It's true.  You can see it on her MySpace page.  She says she's done it on other sites but I've never actually read any of them so she could be lying.  Anyway, I haven't blogged since November so I thought it was about time.

I have a new post over on the Rants, my other, more introspective blogging site.  On this one, I'll probably just stick to simple updates and weird randomness.

I'm finally finished with UTC.  I finally gave up on the traditional degree program and decided to go for an all online degree through Ashford University.  None of the local schools offered classes that fit my schedule and, even if I could take everything I needed, it would have been years before I graduated.  So I'm still a student but not in the traditional sense.

So, anyway, when I'm not working too much, I now have a bit of free time for nonsense like MySpace.  Hey, look to the left.  I revised my profile section to include more book and movie stuff.  I think I'll try to keep that updated and expand it a bit.  I also added some new photos of me.  I need to create a site for some of my more artsy photos but I lost some of the final versions in my recent computer crash and they will have to be recreated from the original discs.

I'm also thinking about posting some random writing samples here.  I need to write more and I might post bits here just to get some feedback.

It's late and I'm old and tired.  I'm going to go kiss Christie and go to bed.  More soon.  I promise.

- Lee

So... Crap.  Fucking, fuck fuck, crap!

I went to the doctor last Thursday because I was having weird random pains in my side, just at the bottom of my ribs.  The doc says, "It seems that it's just a strained muscle but let's get a urine sample to see if there are any kidney problems."  I'm always ready to give a urine sample.  In fact, I was glad he asked.  So I did.

My sugar level was a little high.

He said, "Have you eaten recently?"

I said, "Yeah.  Less than two hours ago, I had a 12" Subway, fully loaded with a huge Coke and some chips."

He said, "That could account for it.  Let's take some blood, though."

I said, "Wha'choo talkin' 'bout, Willis?"  Really, I didn't say that but I HATE needles.

There's a reason they call it "taking" blood.  They have to take it because I'm not giving it up willingly.

So they poked me.

Doc called and left a message for me the next evening.  By the time I got it, it was too late to call him back.  I had to worry all weekend long that I had nanobots or something in my blood and was going to turn into some cyborg monster.  Actually, that would be pretty cool but I don't think Christie would care for it.

The doc and I played phone tag for a while on Monday but he finally got back to me.  He said my sugar level shouldn't have been above 200 but mine was 350.  He wanted to do more blood work but, this time, on an empty stomach.  Unfortunately, he meant that I was the one who should have the empty stomach.

More needles.  And I had a flu shot Monday morning, too.  I HATE needles!

But I went back and got the full blood workup, including something called an A1C which (somehow) measures the average level of blood sugar for the past three months.  It's supposed to be less than 6 but, he said, "If it's seven or so, we can work on getting it down with diet and exercise."

Diet and exercise?!  I'm willing to do anything to lose weight and get healthy except eating right and exercising.  Isn't there some Write Your Way to Good Health or Better Living Through Television and Alcohol Program?

He said, "Don't worry too much about it.  It shouldn't be that bad.  We might have to put you on some medicine for a while but you don't have too many symptoms so you should be fine."

The next day he called and I asked, "So how bad is it?"

He said, "It's a bit worse than I thought?"

My A1C number (which shouldn't have been above 6) was 10.5.

So what does that mean, exactly?  Well, as my boss put it when he heard: "WELCOME TO THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF TYPE 2 DIABETES!"

Yep.  That's right.  Though he says "it's probably been smoldering undetected for a year or so", I'm now an actual diabetic.  Not pre-diabetic.  Not in danger of becoming diabetic.  I'm a fucking diabetic.  Well, for now.  One of the possible side effects is impotence but, so far that hasn't affected me.

Of course, this isn't the end of the world.  With a better diet and some actual exercise, the diabetes can be mostly reversed but it's going to suck having to watch what I eat and actually sweat without getting anywhere or getting anything done.

The problem is, I tend to be a huge slacker and I have the willpower of a Gamorrean Guard.  And I hate vegetables almost as much as I hate needles.

I have to watch my carbs.  That means bread.  I love bread.  I live for bread.

Of course, as the Bible says, "Man cannot live by bread alone."  He needs burgers and hot dogs and steak and pork and other things to go between the big hunks of bread.  And he needs peanut butter and jelly too.  What good are those things without bread.

(Sigh)

I know I really need to change my lifestyle but I really think that this is going to be the hardest thing I've tried to do since I gave trying to use yoga techniques to pleasure myself.

Hey, did you know that you can actually update these MySpace pages and add new blogs?  I had heard that it could be done but didn't believe it.

I added a new (and very lame) post to The Wright Rants but I haven't done anything with the MySpace site in quite a while (other than posting one very old short story for Halloween).  I keep telling myself that, if I'm going to be writing something, I should be writing something creative and not wasting time writing about my boring life but I'm not really getting much creative writing done lately anyway.  I have two novels and a play that I'm working on but I just can't seem to find the time to get through to the end.

It seems that my friends all have major things going on in their lives now.  Ben & Wanda have the drama of their quest for a child.  Jenifer has lots of drama with her job and Keith's ex.  Susan has dating drama and great stories about falling down hills.  But there's just nothing interesting going on in our lives right now.

The drama of the remodel is over and now we're working and going to school and that's about it.  We're in love and things are quiet.  That's a good thing, I know.  It just makes for boring blogs.

So there's not much to say but at least I said something.  And I put up some pictures on this site. I'll try to post more often and maybe tell some stories.  Don't hold your breath, though.

"Something for the Old Man"

by C. L. Wright

 
No!  She can't be dead!  She can't be!

Oh, God!  Nothing's going right!

She's still smiling.  How can she still be smiling?  Maybe there's still time.  Maybe-

A bullet whispers past my ear and punches another hole in the already pulverized wall behind me.  Molding plaster dust drifts lazily onto her upturned angelic face like early snow.  She's suddenly cold but still beautiful. Even in death, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Someone outside opens up with an automatic.  Instinctively, I press my face into the putrid carpet and claw my way through the dusty debris toward the door.

I stop and look back.  I can't leave her here.  When they find her they will-   No!  No, I won't let that happen.  I can't let that happen.

I slither back toward her and clutch her jacket in an outstretched hand.  It's my old letterman jacket.  The one I gave her that first night in the swamp.  She was cold and I gave her my jacket.

The automatic sputters into silence but the others keep up their sporadic pot-shot barrage.

Gritting my teeth against the pain in my back and chest, I drag her toward me.  Her wake is warm ruby fading to maroon in the threadbare carpet.

She's beside me now.

I smell her hair...  Apple blossoms.

I smell her breath... Spring rain.

I smell her blood... Rusted copper.

I smell...  FIRE!

They're going to burn us!

Quickly, instinctively, I stand and sling her over my shoulder.  Something in my back pops.  A bullet grazes my leg and another tears away a large chunk of flesh on my right arm.  I lurch drunkenly forward, glancing over my shoulder.  I see broken windows and fading moonlight.  I see an RC Cola bottle filled with liquid gold under a flaming strip of cloth.  It makes a wobbly arc through the air, heading toward the center of the room.

I leap.  The door holds then splinters under our combined weight.  Glass shatters behind me.  There's a hurricane in my ears.  My face burns.  My throat burns.  My lungs burn.  I'm burning and falling.  The stairs are square fists beating me from all sides.  I hold her tight.  My ankle snaps.  My teeth shatter.  My head splits.  My skin burns.

Then, suddenly...  Unexpectedly...  Water!  The basement is flooded!  The water is shallow, but the fire is held at bay inches above us.  A kaleidoscope of orange and blue death spreading lazily across the greasy, turbulent surface, the fire waits restlessly.

Lungs burning, half crawling, half swimming, I find the cool, slimy rocks of a wall and a pocket of life.  Now gasping, acrid air sears my lungs.  Then I'm back under, away from the floating fire, away from the death.  And here is another door.  It opens reluctantly but I put our weight into it.  The water rushes forward sweeping us through the door and we are falling again, inward, downward.  Then there is darkness--sweet, sweet darkness.

I open my eyes to nothing, darkness no longer so sweet.

I hear sounds in the inky blackness.  Water flowing, dripping, flowing.  There's breathing--ragged, harsh, frightening.  It's only me.

I laugh and choke on the sounds I make.

Then...  A scratch!  A hiss!  A flash of orange light!  A shadow behind the match!

"At last," the shadow says.  "You're awake."

I try to move.  I try to get away.  I'm stopped by blinding pain.

"Easy, boy.  You've had a rough night."

The flame flickers.  The shadow drops the match.  With a hiss, it dies in the cold water.

"Where am I?"  My voice is thin, full of pain, full of fear, full of anger.

Soft chuckle in response.

Water flows, drips, flows all around.

I shiver.

"Where am I?"

"You're in my home, boy."  A dry laugh is implied in the ragged voice.

"Who are you?"

Another chuckle, almost a whisper.  "Don't you know?"

I know.  Oh, God help me, I know!

"You're the Old Man my Pa told me about, aren't you?"

Silent chuckle.  I can feel it.  I can feel the yellowed teeth barred in the impenetrable darkness.

"You're the Old Man," I'm whispering now.  "You're the Old Man in the stories."

He's moving.  I can hear it.  I can feel it.

"Why have you come to me?" he asks.

There's no reason to lie but I lie anyway.  "We're in trouble."

"You and the girl."

"Yeah."

"Trouble is a common thing in the swamp."

He sighs and the air stirs, a thing alive.

"You really fucked up good this time, boy."

"You sound like my Pa."

He sighs again, the sound of a snake dying.  I'm suddenly very cold.

"Did you come to ask for my help, boy?"  His voice is cold.  Colder than the black air I breathe.

"I wasn't even sure you'd be here."

He laughs, gravel and fire echoing in the living darkness.  "Boy..."  His voice is a desert wind.  "I... Am... Always... Here..."

Something, not him, moves in the darkness.

"Are you alone?" I ask him.

He sighs, ignores the question.  I don't even know why I asked.  I know the answer.  I've always known.  My Pa told me.  Everybody knows.    

Something brushes past my leg.  I gasp.  He laughs softly to himself.

"What did you bring me, boy?"

I hesitate.

"You gotta bring somethin' for the Old Man, boy."  I feel his frown in the darkness.  "Didn't your Pa tell you that?"

I lie again.  "I lost it.  I lost it running through the swamp."

"Liar!"  The walls shake.  In the darkness, things I'm glad I can't see scurry hastily from his voice.

"You know who I am!  So don't you ever even think about lying to me again, boy!"

The words echo into icy silence.  I hold my breath and bite my tongue.

"Now…  What… Did… You… Bring… Me?"  His voice slows, evaporates into a steaming hiss.

I inhale sharply, ignoring the pain.  I feel him move significantly nearer.

"You gotta bring somethin' for the Old Man… What did you bring me, boy?"

"I brought you the girl!  You know I brought her here for you!"  My whisper is like a scream in the darkness.  "But you can't have her, you evil old son-of-a-bitch!  You can't fucking have her!"

He laughs, obviously insulted yet genuinely entertained.  The laughter dies slowly.

He spits.  It's hot on my cheek but I don't move.

"Boy, I can have… Anything… Anything I want."

I hate him, now.  My voice is stronger.  "I love her!"

"Then why did you kill her, Boy?"

"I... I didn't.  It was Butch...  Butch, Remmy, Cracker and the others."

He moves closer to me.  I can feel it.

"Why did they kill her, boy?"

"They killed her because she was with me and I crossed them.  I took their money.  I took it to get us away."

I can feel his cold smile.  "Then you're the reason she's dead, boy."

"No.  No."

He sighs.  The air stirs, alive with fear.

"We just wanted to be together."  My voice is weak now.  Trembling.  "We couldn't be together if I hadn't...  If I hadn't done what I did."  I pause and take a deep breath before continuing.  "I never meant for this to happen."

He snorts.  I feel his dark scowl of contempt like an open sore.

"If you love her, why bring her here to me?"

I sigh.  Pain below my ribs.

"I'd heard the stories.  The stories about how you lost your daughter."

He sighs.  The sound of infinite sadness stirs the inky air.  For a moment, I almost pity him.

"I knew you must be lonely.  Down here all alone."

"Yessss."  The word is a hiss, the sound of beetles crawling on dead skin.

"My Pa had told me the story, must've been a hundred times, and when I saw her, I knew what I had to do."  I pause to gather my strength, my courage.  "She seemed the perfect one to take your daughter's place."

"So you took her away from those who kept her and you brought her here."

"I wanted to trade her for my freedom.  For a new life.  A life outside this damn swamp."

"Of course.  That's what they all want."

I feel his smile.  It is not comforting.

"But on the way here, we fell in love.  So I stole the money from the Guild and started to run."  My voice is quiet but firm.

His chuckle is soft, sad.  "Then you've brought me nothin'."

A reply sticks in my constricting throat.  In spite of the darkness, I nod.  I know he can feel it.  Maybe he can even see it.

"Everybody knows you got to bring somethin' for the Old Man."  His voice is cold.

Something--a hand!--touches my leg.

"They always fall in love with her," he says to himself.

I close my eyes tight though there is nothing to see.

"It's always the same," he continues.  "Eventually, she always lets some poor soul bring her back here."  He laughs and the living darkens writhes around us.  "And they always fall in love with her."

He sighs, the sound of life leaving a hanged man.

"Everybody knows," he says softly, "you got to bring somethin' for the Old Man."

I try to speak, recant, repent, but familiar lips smother the words.

I smell her hair...  Apple blossoms.

I smell her breath... Spring rain.

I smell her blood... Rusted copper.

"You shouldn't have come here empty handed, boy," he says.

I try to scream but her hands are tight on my throat.  Her tongue slips out of my mouth, onto my neck.  Her lips are soft and warm against my neck in the darkness.

"Everybody knows you got to bring somethin' for the Old Man," she says, "and, this time, I brought you."

Ive had this account for a month or so but, for some reason, I cant get seem to get motivated enough to do much with it.  Ive been posting some rants, observations and random personal stuff over on my other blog from time to time and Ive done a bit of work on ChristieAndLee.com but the MySpace account has been pretty much neglected.

Im not sure just how I want to use my MySpace space so I thought Id start with some random stuff like this:

MY (RELATIVELY) RECENT READING LIST*

*Excluding the Books that Sucked

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

Im only about halfway through this one but I can tell you that this is an amazing book.  Unless the ending totally blows, Ill be recommending this to all my friends.

A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore

Ive been into Christopher Moore since Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christs Childhood Pal and, so far, Ive read all but two of his books.  I think this is one of his best.  Its not wall-to-wall funny like Lamb but it has better character development and better plot twists.

The Colorado Kid by Stephen King

Christie got me this one for Christmas and I loved it.  Some people will hate the ending to this book but the ending wasnt the point of the story.  I know that sounds strange but, if you read it, you would understand.  Its more than just a great character study.  Its the kind of book that makes me want to write.

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

The full title of this book is Good Omens : The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch and the best way to describe it is to say that Terry Gilliam has been trying for years to make this into a movie and, at one time, Robin Williams and Johnny Depp were attached to play the leads.

Shes Come Undone by Wally Lamb

Im surprised that I read this book.  Im even more surprised that I actually liked it.  And Im astounded that I liked it well enough to recommend along with these other great books.

The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown

Dan Brown reminds me of Robert Ludlum in that his plots are complex and interesting and full of detail but the prose is stiff and wooden.  Haven't seen the film yet but I really liked the book.