Back in January, I mentioned that I was working on something called “Beer Taste (on a Champagne Budget)”—and even included what I thought was its opening chapter. Since then a lot of other writing got in the way (including many of these Substack postings), but I finally finished it.
It turned out to be a longish story, rather than a book. But, by combining it with another longish story—and a few short ones—it became yet another slim volume in my collection of self-published books:
There’s quite a stack of these little black books now. I don’t know—maybe twelve? They just keep popping up, like mushrooms after a rainy October night.
In Walden. Thoreau boasted that he possessed a library of some nine hundred books, then qualified the remark by adding, “…seven hundred of which are my own.” His earlier book had sold so poorly that he had to buy back all of the unsold copies from the publisher.
With modern print-on-demand, I’m spared the cruel mockery of accusatory piles of unsold books. That’s a good thing—between books I’ve written, edited, and illustrated, not to mention encyclopedias and other people’s books to which I contributed—there are enough of my own books to fill an entire shelf.
I’ve lost count of how many. When I was a freelance illustrator, I did another forty-odd books—textbooks for elementary grades all the way to college. I don’t have any of those books (whew!). As I said, I’ve lost count—but the total might be as much as a hundred.
Egad!
When I was young (a long long time ago), I dreamed of assembling a largish library. The idea, I suppose, was that I’d always have something to read in my old age. Well, I’m finally old, and I do have a pretty substantial library. But, when I set out to acquire all those books, I never imagined that so many of them would be my own.
Nor did I realize, that in the process of writing a book a writer has to read his/her own book hundreds of times. It doesn’t leave much time for reading all the books that other people have written. I have managed to find a way to make time for that reading—mostly by eschewing anything resembling an actual life.
I’m pleased to say that my youthful aspiration was a self-fulfilling prophecy. My dotage is very much what I hoped it would be.
—
The excerpt, below, is just the opening portion of one of the shorter stories in the new book.
Sabbatical
George, sitting at a table in the garden, marking up a small stack of xeroxed pages, sees his wife coming through the kitchen door.
“What are you up to out here, by yourself?” she asks.
“Just reviewing a colleague’s paper on the Indo-European roots of Balkan languages.”
“Any good?”
“A lot of old news, I’m afraid... but, as he doesn’t have tenure, he’s required to publish such drivel. If I can, I’ll try to steer him away from the most egregious redundancies.”
“You’re a good friend to the intellectually needy.”
“Precisely the sort of professors that tenure was never intended to preserve.”
They both laugh.
“You know, Martha, the semester is almost over and I’m up for another sabbatical...” He leaves his sentence unfinished, creating an air of mystery that successfully captures Martha’s attention.
“Do you have something special planned, or are you just going to vegetate in the garden for a semester?”
“Actually, I was thinking we could retake our honeymoon cruise... and even have the captain officiate as we renew our vows.”
“What a sweet idea!” she replies. She does not speak what is on her mind, “...even if you have broken those vows with two generations of conspicuously consensual co-eds.”
Paid subscribers to these substack pages get access to complete editions of two of my novellas. Noirvella is a modern story of revenge, told in the style of film noir. Unbelievable is a kind of rom-com that forms around a pompous guy who is conceited, misinformed, and undeservedly successful. Both books are sold by Amazon, but paid subscribers get them for free!
Also, substack pages (older than eight months) automatically slip behind a paywall—so only paid subscribers can read them. If you’re interested in reading any of them, you can subscribe, or wait until they are re-released in book form (something I’m in the process of considering).
Meanwhile, it is easy to become a paying subscriber (just like supporting your favorite NPR station). It’s entirely optional, and—even if you choose not to do so—you’ll still get my regular substack posts—and I’ll still be happy to have you as a reader.