Courderoys, Printers, Hungover Snails and THE EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON

Did I mention I wrote a book?

I just recieved the mock-up of the first 15 pages from the printer. It looks fantastic.  We're now awaiting the mock-up of the complete text. I guess you could say my printer has gone from moving at the pace of a hungover snail to moving along at the pace of a hungover snail that's had a glass of Alka Seltzer.

Did I mention that I am a high school teacher?

Today some wisenhiemer kid told me he liked my courderoys. They were making a zipping noise as I was running to the library.

I stopped and waved my finger at the modern day juvenile delinquent and cautioned,"Listen here, bub, I realize that was a sarcastic remark. I know you were making fun of me."

To which he replied, "Did you just call me bub?"

"Hah!" I snapped back, my finger waving back and forth like some kind of out of control windshield wiper. "You're doing it again. You're making fun of me. You're being sarcastic again."

The kid was left speechless. On the other hand, he may have been a little freaked out.

Satisfied, I made my way to the library and went about the business of teaching. The point is the day is coming when I won't be able tell that they're making fun of me.And  I'm afraid that day is right around the corner. I'm not getting any younger, man. I'm telling you I can't see myself still teaching ten years from now.

This is why I'm asking you to read The Eight Fingered Criminal's Son. In case you haven't heard, the e-book is available at http://www.amazon.com/The-Eight-Fingered-Criminals-Son-ebook/dp/B005NWH8L4 for  a measly 5 bucks. And the print version will be available as soon as the hungover snail of a printing company prints the thing.

RICK MORANIS AND THE EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON

We have hired Create Space to print The Eight-Fingered Criminal's Son. Create Space is in possession of the text and they are rocketing along at the speed of a hungover snail to facilitate the release of the physical, non e-book version.


In the mean time, I set up a Twitter account in order to promote the book. I haven't exactly figured out how to use Twitter, but I do have 15 followers. Interestingly enough, and I am not kidding, I'm pretty sure Rick Moranis is one of my 15 followers. If Rick Moranis is following me, I'm thinking I just might have myself a fist full of marketing dynamite. If I can get Rick "Ghostbusters" Moranis to read The Eight-Fingered Criminal's Son and he likes the book, good golly Miss Molly, this thing is on. I could sell, I don't know, 130 - maybe 140 books.

You can follow my rather confused Twitter campaign that seems to include Rick "Honey I Shrunk the Kids" Moranis by clicking  https://twitter.com/#!/GriggitSnyder

If you know someone who recieved a new Kindle for Christmas, please tell them about The Eight-Fingered Criminal's Son. The book can be downloaded for a measly 5 bucks by clicking on http://www.amazon.com/The-Eight-Fingered-Criminals-Son-ebook/dp/B005NWH8L4

The Eight-Fingered Criminal's Son - Clif the Lawyer and Various Other Book Mojo Makers

About a year ago, I met for breakfast with my old amigo Clifton Batchelor, also known as Clif the Lawyer. I call him Clif the Lawyer because he's a dentist. Actually, he's not a dentist; he's a lawyer, but it would be so much more ironic if I called him Clif the Lawyer while he was actually a dentist. The point is it was Clif the Lawyer who convinced me to team up whim him to compile and publish a collection of my stories. Clif spent countless hours working with me, editing, revising, researching publishing options, formatting text, and working on the cover design. If not for Clif, The Eight-Fingered Criminal's Son would not exist. I want to take the opportunity to publicly thank Clifton Batchelor.

While I'm at it, I'd like to thank my old pal Robert Sanchez for personally financing the bound version. When the book was released on Amazon, my daughter Lindsey Hernandez and my sister's childhood friend Mandy Treckman Martes took it upon themselves to spread the word and between the two of them, they were probably responsible for 50 e-book sales. Pete Ledesma, co owner of The Book Frog, has offered to carry the book. And Brett White, owner of Chandler Auto and Tire, has also agreed to carry the book. How cool is that, selling a book at a garage. Bryan Frank, John Marciolonis and Tony Frink were kind enough to help out with the editing.  Finally, John Baker is plugging the book on Cougar Town, the Hawthorne High School Website http://cougartown.com/feedback.html.

Countless old friends and family members have supported this venture. I realize that 126 e-book sales is a far cry from the Times Best Seller List, but it's a nice start. And it's pretty cool to have the support and encouragement from so many people. It feels a little bit serendipitous. Wait, I'm not the kind of guy who uses words like serendipitous. I'm the kind of guy who says something like it feels like there's some serious good mojo connected to The Eight-Fingered Criminal's Son and I'm feeling like a pretty lucky schlep.

Awe heck, I forgot to thank Brady "Cat" White, Dickey "Tom Jones" Imburgia, Ian "Moon Doggie" Welch, Joel and Amy Fricke, Jayden White, and Wayne "Geege' Mossbarger for the 3 whacked out promotional videos.

The Latest scoop on THE EIGHT FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON and THE MIAMI HEAT

Here's a shot, taken in 1985, of yours tryly with the eight-fingered criminal himself, William "Cash" Snyder.
Over 100 e-books have been downloaded from Amazon.com. My goal was 100 so I'm calling this book making venture a success.

The cover design is finished and the text has been formatted for the printer. I've been told the print version will be ready to rock in 2 to 3 months.

For starters, the print version will be available on Amazon.com, The Book Frog in L.A., and Chandler Auto and Tire Repair. Selling the book at an auto and tire repair shop is supposed to be funny.

Thank you to all who have downloaded the e-book and I'll keep you posted on the release date for the dead tree version.

You can download the e-book for a measly 5 bucks by clicking on the link below.
http://www.amazon.com/The-Eight-Fingered-Criminals-Son-ebook/dp/B005NWH8L4
Happy New Year
And the Miami Heat have absolutely nothing to do with The Eight-Fingered Criminal's Son.

THE ROUNDERS - Bill and Wayne's Excellent Adventures in the World of Film

Wayne Mosbarger, the Mr. Miyagi of quirky cool old movies, recently turned me on to The Rounders, a 1965 comedy western staring Henry Fonda and Glenn Ford. Fonda and Ford cut it up with bigger than life character actors Denver Pile, Chill Wills and Edgar Buchanan. They honestly don't make actors like these guys any more. Set against the gorgeous backdrop 1960s Sedona, Arizona, the film follows the escapades of a couple of middle-aged, hard luck cowboys.

The quirky coolest aspect of this old western is Henry Fonda's love interest is played by the old gal who portrayed “The Penguin” in The Blues Brothers. And here's where it get's even quirky cooler in a Kevin Bacon kinda way: I was an extra in The Blues Brothers.

Bottom line, The Rounders with Hank Fonda and Bill Holden gets a thumbs up.
 

                               Hank Fonda cuts the rug with "The Penguin."

Merry Christmas Eve!

As Adam said to his better half, it's Christmas, Eve!

Sorry, I honestly can't help myself. I've always been a sucker for bad Christmas puns.

THE EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON - The First Royalty Check

The e-book verison of The Eight-Fingered Criminal's Son is  moving quite nicely on Amazon.com. The first Royalty check arrived in the mail recently. I suppose this is a milestone of sorts. Thanks to all who purchased the e-book. The bound version is in the works. One thing of learned about this book business is making an e-book is a lot easier and a lot faster than making a physical book.

Did you hear about the depressed elf?
He had low elf esteem.

Merry Christmas

The-Eight Fingered Criminal's Son - The Cover Design

The long and painful search for a good graphic designer is finallyover. Here is the first cover cover proof.  We're still tweaking the design and playing with the colors. It's been a long process, but I'd rather have this project done right than done fast. God willin'and the creek don't rise, the cover design will be finished  and we'll give the printer the go ahead this week.

John Wayne's Ghost - A Yuletide Story

John Wayne’s Ghost
Wiliam Z. Snyder
© 2008 William Snyder


1.
It was late. Another perfect Christmas was in the books. Family and friends had been by for tamales and eggnog. That’s right - I said it; tamales and eggnog. Something wrong with tamales and eggnog? There had been plenty of Christmas music; the entire family had watched Jingle All the Way straight through, twice in a row. The wife and kids were upstairs fast asleep with visions of Schwarzenegger slugging it out with the dopey mailman dancing in their heads. I was trying to hash out my time travel story. This could be construed as something of a coincidence – working on a time travel story; you’ll make the connection soon enough. I’ve never been a late night writer, but the words just weren’t coming. I needed a change-up. The story was all in a mess; too many characters, each with an individual plot line. And I’d been told that too many of these people sounded like the same character. I was working downstairs at the old oak lawyer’s desk by the window, going at it John Steinbeck style, with twenty freshly sharpened number two pencils and a yellow legal pad. Although I’d been sitting at the desk since midnight, the first pencil was still sharp enough to draw blood.

The Christmas tree was beautiful. Heck, the Christmas tree had always been beautiful. That Christmas tree would always be beautiful. Our family Christmas tree was a place where the past and present came together, a place where new ornaments shared branch space with ornaments that were a hundred years old back when I was a starry-eyed boy. The oldest were pretty ragged. They were white bearded Santa Clauses with their eyes painted crossed, and their noses broken off. One of their hands had fallen off and all of their red suits had faded to pink seventy-five years ago. Poor little bastards. There were the wooden reindeers and wise men my aunt Lois had painted in the late 1960s when my uncle was in Vietnam. And there was the little fuzzy bear in a crocheted Christmas box my mother had crafted during her last Christmas season. Just above the bear was the handmade Grinch ornament my daughter, Sophia, had brought home from school this year. Yeah, I couldn’t help doing a little time traveling when I looked at that handsome Christmas tree.

But there was the business of the book. I had put the book aside nine months ago, after a friend read the first hundred and twenty pages and proceeded to absolutely rip it to shreds. This was new genre for me and it was the first time I tried writing in third-person. The scathing review truly took the wind from my sails. Somehow, somewhere along the line, I got into my head that I wanted to be a serious writer. And I’d been chasing the dream for five years. The agents and publishers had rejected my novel and short stories hundreds of times, but it was tough to hear it from my closest writing ally. Recently, I had decided I would finish the book, good or bad, come hell or high water. I didn’t believe in that writer's block business. It was like shooting slumps in my old basketball days. There was only one way out of a shooting slump and that was to shoot my way out. Likewise, I would have to write my way out of this writing slump. Writing was easier than basketball; I couldn’t go back and fix my missed shots, but I could always go back and clean up bad writing.

Determined to make something happen, I pushed the pencil to the paper. As Murphy’s Law would have it, headlights filled the front window. The shadow of a big man slowly, unsteadily emerged from a limousine. The chauffer climbed out and began gesticulating. The big guy waved him off and headed up the brick walkway to my front door. He walked a little like John Wayne. Maybe he was drunk. Standing, I moved toward the porch. Who was this guy? He wrapped quietly on the front door.

“Who is it?” I asked quietly, not wanting to wake Gail and the kids.

“It’s Duke Wayne. Open up, will ya?”

Looking through the peep hole, this character did look like John Wayne. And he was big, John Wayne big. He was dressed in slacks dress shoes, a polo shirt and a grey tweed coat.

“C’mon friend, I need a drink.”


You can read the rest of the story in my next book.

In the meantime, I suggest you read "The Spirit Guide Bar," available at this link:

The Spirit Guide Bar

A Christmas Comic, News on THE-EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON, and a Christmas Joke

It's that time of year again. I posted this comic last year, but what the heck, maybe it will be funny this time around.

Did I mention that I wrote a  book called The Eight-Fingered Criminal's Son? You can download the e-book by clicking on this link: http://www.amazon.com/The-Eight-Fingered-Criminals-Son-ebook/dp/B005NWH8L4
I should have some news on the print version soon.

A Christmas joke: Did you hear that Scrooge's team won the football game? Yeah, the Ghost of Chritmas passed.

THE BOOK FROG - Support Your Local Indy Book Store

There's a new indy book store in the metropolitan Los Angeles area. It's called THE BOOK FROG. Former corporate book store characters Pete Ledesma and Rebecca Glenn are the proprietors.

While Pete Ledesma and I attended Hawthorne High School, we didn't run in the same circles. I did know of Pete Ledesma. Everybody knew of Pete Ledesma. If my memory serves me correctly, Pete Ledesma was known across the South Bay area for his bleacher jumping. Dozens of students gathered after school to watch young Pete leap from top row of the football bleachers, land gracefully 25 feet below, perform a kung-fu style roll, spring to his feet and perform a showman's bow. Pretty cool. Yeah, everybody knew who Pete Ledesma was. He was also a dead on Elvis impersonator. Pete performed paid gigs as a high school kid.


The last time I saw Pete, it was 1980. We teamed up as actors, playing a couple of bumbling detectives, in a student film called Coffee, Tea or Murder at Loyola Marymount University. I bailed on the project to take a job in soup factory.


Pete's also written a yet to be published book called Norman's Conquest. Apparently, a few copies have leaked out because a came across an extremely positive on-line review.


Word on the street is Pete and Becky's independent book store is off to a great start. Opening an independent business in the midst of the current economic turmoil is takes guts. But we're talking about a bleacher jumper here. Pete and Becky leapt from the top of the bleachers and executed their kung-fu style roll. Well done, Pete and Becky. It's time to take your showmen's bow.


Address 550 Deep Valley Dr #273, Rolling Hills Estates, CA 90274
Phone 310-265-BOOK (2665)
Website  http://thebookfrog.com/
Hours Mon - Thu: 10:00 am - 8:00 pm
Fri - Sat: 10:00 am - 9:00 pm
Sun: 11:00 am - 6:00 pm

11/22/1963

As I mentioned in my last posting, my earliest memories involve the JFK assassination. Over the years, I've been compelled to read several books on the topic. The truth has, in my estimation, been quite successfully hidden from the American people. I am relatively sure that the Warren Commission, led by Gerald Ford, was a sham. And I'm quite confident that Lee Harvey Oswald did not "act alone."

According to the Warren Commission, Oswald was a run of the mill American boy, nothing unusual about him. He served as an enlisted man in the Marine Corps before deciding to defect to the Soviet Union. Somewhere along the line, he had learned to speak fluent Russian. After a couple of years he decided to come back to the United States. Mind you, this story takes place in the middle of the Cold War. Oswald, or someone who looked a heckuva a lot like Oswald, was observed hanging out at the Soviet embassy in Mexico. It seems he became involved in Free Cuba Movement in the months before the assassination.

Although it's been said that Oswald failed a nitrate test, indicating that he didn't fire a rifle on the day of the assassination, I'm guessing he was one of two assassins. Some theories point to actor Woody Harrelson's father as the second gunman. Weird, I know. He was arrested that afternoon, held for a short time and released. Apparently, Mr. Harrelson had done time for shooting a political figure of some kind or another. Oswald was captured in a movie theater. He killed a police officer in the process. At the police station, Oswald said, "I'm just a patsy." The next day, Oswald was surrounded by police officers in the police department parking garage when Jack Ruby, a gangster from Chicago, shot and killed him.

Who was behind the assassination? Lyndon Johnson, no fan of the Kennedy clan himself, indicated the truth would have caused World War III. The CIA had attempted to assassinate Castro numerous times. Oswald's little vacation in the USSR makes the Soviets a primary suspect. Perhaps the Cubans were involved as well.

The list of suspects with motives is pretty extensive. Jack Ruby, the man who silenced Oswald before he had the chance to tell the truth, got started in the gangster business running numbers in Chicago for none other than Al Capone. JFK's old man Joe Kennedy got filthy, stinking rich as a criminal, working along side the likes of Capone, selling illegal alcohol during prohibition. After the Mafia worked hard to help JFK become president, Attorney General Bobby Kennedy exposed and prosecuted Mafia chieftains like Santos Traficante. Gee, wonder why the mafia would be upset with the Kennedys?

The CIA, the FBI, the oil industry, the military industrial complex had no love for the Kennedy's and have been tied to various conspiracy theories. Did I mention George Bush Sr. was the director of the CIA in 1963?

Lone Gunman? Not buying it...

Lee Harvey Oswald - An Exerpt From THE EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON

An exerpt from The Eight Fingered Criminal's Son
“LeAe Harvey Oswald (1963)"
by William Snyder
© 2006 William Snyder


It was 1963 and I was in a Sears’ department store elevator with my grandmother. The doors slid silently open. An enormous black woman filled the doorway. Her face was soaked with tears. “They killed Kennedy!” I looked up to my grandmother and she was crying too. Scanning the towering occupants of the elevator, I could see that they were all weeping and things seemed out of control. Although I hadn’t the slightest understanding of what was happening, I was scared to death.

My memory jump cuts to the dinner table at my grandparents’ home. We were having Jell-O. Tiny chunks of pears, peaches and bananas bounced around inside the cubes. My grandfather, who had been eating in silence, suddenly slammed his great lumberman’s fist on the table, “Goddamit! I knew they’d never let a Catholic run this country!” My Jell-O reverberated wildly in the glass bowl. On the wall behind my grandfather hung a picture of JFK and another of the blonde, blue-eyed surfer version of Jesus Christ.


My memory jump cuts again. Sitting with my my legs crossed, Indian style on the giant oval rug in front of my grandparents’ black and white television set, I watch a scene that I have already carefully observed at least a dozen times. Lee Harvey Oswald’s hands are cuffed as he rounds the corner in the underground parking structure. Dwarfed by giant gray men in cowboy hats, he wears a five o’clock shadow and looks like one if the guys who work on their cars behind my apartment building. I hate him because he is the man who killed the Catholic president. A man appears from nowhere, his broad back to the camera. I know that his name is Jack Ruby. He bum-rushes Oswald as the towering cowboy policemen stand by - useless. There is the muffled sound of gunshots. Oswald’s face looks almost funny. His eyes are shut and he looks as though he is trying very hard to whistle.

This incredibly chaotic, enigmatic scene is cemented into the foundations of the husband, father, and teacher I have since become.

SUBLIME!

Don't know that I've ever experienced anything like the Veterans Day basketball game played on the flight deck of the aircraft carrier Carl Vinson. Enjoying the  grace and style of the greatest sport on the planet set against the vast Pacific Ocean sky was nothing short of sublime...

By the way, you can download THE EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON for a measly 5 bucks  by clicking on the link below.
http://www.amazon.com/The-Eight-Fingered-Criminals-Son-ebook/dp/B005NWH8L4

Smaller Bookstores a "Perfectly Viable" Business Model

Smaller Bookstores a "Perfectly Viable" Business Model