Old sneakers, a borrowed car and a fresh watermelon...

So I wake up early, plenty of time to get where I need to be this Saturday morning and things start to go bad. First, because I moved into a new home, I have no hot water and I have to "prepare" my bath--you know--like they did in the wild west? I let some cold water run, partially filling the tub and then dump buckets of hot water to balance the temperature. Then, like Billy the Kid in Young Guns I jump up realizing I can't remember where--or if--we unpacked the iron!!!

I have to be at my book signing in Hudson Oaks with my new friend, Randy Cook, owner of Lark Bookstore by 11:30AM. I towel dry, lay my clothes out and (as if realizing you walk into your appointment looking like you slept in your clothes isn't bad enough) I realized the ONLY shoes I have at the new home are my old sneakers. The same ones I coach baseball in...

I scramble to call my wife, who isn't easy to get in touch with this Saturday morning because we canceled her previous phone service just Friday night, opting to consolidate plans and save money. But that phone won't be here til Tuesday and I can't find her!!! I call my sister who happens to work with her and (guess what?) she isn't at work yet!!! She calls the office, tells someone to tell Michele to call me, all for an iron. How embarrassing right? Well, she calls and I find the iron and scramble to put my clothes in some sort of order. I put on some casual dress pants, a dress shirt (untucked) and yes, those dirty old sneakers. I'm just about ready to head out, I'm hungry but I don't want to eat before this engagement and I am on my fourth cup of coffee. So, in my "scrambling" to get ready I look like a crack-head trying to find keys to a car he doesn't own. Found the keys, grabbed my smokes, a lighter, some cash (coined currency by the way because should I sell some books, I want to offer correct change) and my copies of "Proud Souls."

So here I am coming out the house, a box of books in my hand, dress pants, sneakers and a pocket full of change. I can't help but laugh and remember Cosmo Kramer (Seinfeld) lugging pockets full of change to the local pizzeria to get some calzones for George Costanza. Anyhow, my other sister comes by to see how the kiddos are doing and I tell her they stayed with my cousin Johnny on account Michele and I both had somewhere to be this morning. She is just about to leave when I realize--MY TRUCK WON'T START! Of all the rotten days for my truck to quit working, it's this one! I flag her down (see the coins jingling in the pocket of my dress pants? Thank goodness I am wearing running shoes) and she comes to my rescue. It's 10:00AM and I need to be in Hudson Oaks by at least 11:00AM.

Okay, because of the move, I can't find my receipt book. So, its off to Dollar General which happens to be one block from my house. But, guess what? Yep, they don't carry receipt books, at least not at the Richland Hills location. My sister is filling up the car with gas next door, so (again with dress pants, pocket full of change and running shoes) I hurry next door to tell her I am losing my mind!!!

We stop by my old house, I run in, get my dress shoes and off we go to her home to drop her off so I can borrow the car. It's 10:30AM and I just know I'm going to blow it! I'm constantly checking my pockets because first of all, I hate things in my pockets and secondly, rattling of the change is making me nervous. I look in the backseat and there's a watermelon. My sister tells me she grew it in her garden, although it looks like a large squash with a crooked neck. She then said she only stopped by my house on the way to my mom and dad's house to deliver the watermelon. I tell her we can't do it now--we must press on! She is concerned...concerned that the watermelon will rot in the backseat. You know, with the heat and all? The only thing I can say is: They grow outside in the sun...it should be okay.

So, its 10:45AM and I wave good-bye to my sister, she wishes the watermelon well and with dress shoes now, a wrinkled shirt and pants and a pocket full of change, I am off to Hudson Oaks for my book signing. Oh wait! The receipt book!!!

I stop at the Wal-Mart right across the shopping center where the book signing will be. I run in (with dress shoes this time) and find the perfect one. I buy the receipt book and smoke one cigarette and chew about five pieces of gum to settle my nerves. My stomach is growling and I tell myself--three more hours and I can eat and it's all over with. I walk in the front door to the bookstore at exactly 11:20 AM.

***

Two hours later I was heading to Boo Ray's cajun cuisine with my very good friends David and Nancy Siron. They treated me to lunch because with the amount of money I made on a 60/40 split of ONE $18.00 dollar book (sold)...I would be better off eating the watermelon.

To the gentleman who bought Proud Souls...Had I known the day would have turned out like that, I would have given it to you. But thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for all your support. I truly hope you enjoy the story...


For all of you aspiring writers out there...it be's like that sometimes...

~Bobby Ozuna
"Drawing Stories...With Words"
www.BobbyOzunaOnline.com

"The Other Side of Glory"-- August 15th, 2008

A preliminary draft to the Dedication page for "The Other Side of Glory."

This story is dedicated to the men I served with in the US Marine Corps. Unless you knew me while I was serving abroad you may not understand the pains by which I came to write this story. I have struggled to bring it to life since the day my father and I drove away from Camp Lejeune, North Carolina in 1997. I began writing the novel in 2002 and after eighteen chapters and a very vague plot, character base and story-line I trashed it, like I do most my works and started over. The story suffered this fate again in early 2003 and by 2005 I had given up on it in lieu of writing the story of Justin Bower and Tessa Jameson—the story which became my debut novel—Proud Souls.

I must confess however this isn’t my story. Although I have been cited several times in saying all fiction stems from some form of truth within the author—my works are still not autobiographical. There is irony in that statement however and I must confess that I have prided myself in being a writer who will never tell the story of a road I have not traveled. I think some of our greatest novelists to this date have been those who were not afraid to forsake truth in lieu of discovering what lies just beyond the realm of right and proper. I do not brag when I say I have tasted the fruits of good and of evil. Looking back at my life many years later when I chose to ignore the inevitable question within my life: Why do I do the things I do when I know the outcome?, well, the best I can say today, either here on paper or at the bar with a cold beer is this: It is because of my experiences in this world—some good and some bad—that I am able to justify the realism within my characters. Yes, I can sit at my window and watch the world go by and with every ounce of my creativity, create a story that would seem very real. But to me, that would be cheating—unfair to you as the reader and to the characters that I bring to life on paper.

There are many people who waited patiently for me to write this story. They are my friends and each of them at separate times in my life and in their own private way, have begged me to write it. It isn’t their story either, anymore than it is mine; but each of them believes this story to be a part of their lives they wish to share and also put away as a private reminder of their former selves. I have been asked to be careful how I present the story and I have been asked to tell the truth, holding nothing back. I have been reminded of the pains that accompany home-sickness and the disappointment that accompanies coming up short on a dream. And I have been asked to forget those who tried to destroy me when I was younger. Some have said the things I shared in this fictional tale aren’t true at all and others laughed at my audacity.

I suppose the most important part of “The Other Side of Glory” I wish for my audience to take with them is to appreciate a good story. My hope is that people won’t look too deep into the whether or not I overextended my boundaries as a novelist but rather take the story for what it is: a fictional tale.

"Proud Souls" On Location Video Documentary, Part I

Here is the first of several documentary style videos I will be posting recapping my trip to Seymour, Texas on March 14th/15th 2008.


Seymour, Texas is the "setting" to my debut literary fiction novel: Proud Souls. I thought I would offer my fans an opportunity to get to know me better by listening as I share insightful (and unscripted) information regarding the creation of Proud Souls and also (later) get a chance to see the cabin as described in the opening chapters.



Bobby Ozuna Author of Proud Souls www.BobbyOzunaOnline.com