SNYDERMANIA: 03/01/2013

Friday, March 8, 2013

"DAVE CRUZ" WITH KATHY OCH'S ENGLISH CLASS

I took the opportunity to snap the above photo after doing a reading of "Dave Cruz" for Kathy Och's English class this week in Chandler, Arizona. Good thing I'm calling myself a writer and not a photographer. Good looking group. Energetic too. Yeah, I really dig doing these readings for high school and college classes. The process never fails to teach me something about myself and my writing.
I'm feeling major appreciation mojo to Kathy Och for allowing me to spend the time with her students and Big Dave Cruz for providing the inspiration for this increasingly popular story...

Sunday, March 3, 2013

READING "DAVE CRUZ" FOR IAN JOHNSON'S ENGLISH CLASSES AT GATEWAY COLLEGE

Ian Johnson was kind enough to give me the opportunity to read "Dave CRUZ" for his English 101 classes at Gateway College in Phoenix. The Q and A sessions were enjoyable, providing me with a boatload of insight.
A few students asked about Createspace.
Here is the link.
https://www.createspace.com/

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NORTHERN EXPOSURE

Goethe's final words: "More light." Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry: "More light." Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier's field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.

FIELD OF DREAMS

Well, you know I... I never got to bat in the major leagues. I would have liked to have had that chance. Just once. To stare down a big league pitcher. To stare him down, and just as he goes into his windup, wink. Make him think you know something he doesn't. That's what I wish for. Chance to squint at a sky so blue that it hurts your eyes just to look at it. To feel the tingling in your arm as you connect with the ball. To run the bases - stretch a double into a triple, and flop face-first into third, wrap your arms around the bag. That's my wish, Ray Kinsella. That's my wish. And is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true?