Tom Swift Writer’s Notebook

As I pulled into the post office annex I noticed something I normally wouldn’t: a guy whacking weeds.
Usually, when I’m in the car I flip on the mind’s auto responder. The garbage truck. The jogger. The billboard. I pass them without much thought on the way to the gym, the library, the post office. But [...]

A Borders in St. Louis exploded and the debris landed in one of the area’s many glorified garage sales. I was tipped off over the weekend but when I stopped by on Monday afternoon I was still astonished: several large shelves of books — including current bestsellers, classics, and big-name author backlist — at 80 [...]

Bookish notes from a couple of days in New Orleans …

We were in town for all of an hour when we crossed paths with the release of Jackie Collins’ latest bundle of paper gold. In fact, the Savage Beast crashed the party. I would say more but I’m afraid that would leave too much of [...]

I’ve mentioned before that if you’re into religious worship the temporary hometown has you covered. That is, of course, as long as you’re a God fearin’ Christian. Many of the countless houses of devotion are striking because of their arena-like size. Others I take note of for their ability to save me even as I [...]

There are a few things I learned right-quick in the South. Most likely the driver one car ahead aims to use a turn signal only when Johnny Law is near. I know to flip on the radio only if I’m in the mood for a song last popular in 1982. Or white-man rage about Hollywood [...]

I come from a place known for its oversized shopping mall. I am in a place with a church large enough to house an amusement park.
We drove by God’s mansion the other day on our way to an area high school to walk our ferocious canine (if there are parks in these parts folks keep [...]

As you have already noticed, I take advantage of the fact that the Deep South is fodder for ridicule. Of course, that’s an easy dig — like picking on functional adults who spend time reading about Paris Hilton. So I feel the need to mention good things about Dixie (if and when I sees ‘em).
The [...]

There are many signs that life is different here than in the home state. My favorite so far is, literally, a sign I saw posted on the side of the highway: two gold teeth for $100.
Let me know if you need a pair.

After a dozen-minute drive I unload the car and read the sign that greets science-believing heathens like me at this 50,000-population-city’s “recycling center.” Bin No. 2, apparently, is for all forms of paper. Only the bins themselves are not numbered. The one that contains paper has signs all over it saying “newspapers only,” in [...]

For reasons I won’t bore you with, I am temporarily away from the homestead. I’m in the Deep South, a landscape dominated by churches as large shopping malls and (coincidentally?) every fast-food chain you can think of and at least a few you cannot. The redeeming value of this temporary fix is that in the [...]