When I was in ninth grade, a new kid moved into my neighborhood — we’ll call him “Joe” — and I was hopeful that we’d be friends. There weren’t any boys my age in the neighborhood; just two girls, and I was terrified of girls.
Joe, being the new kid, was willing to try to be my friend. We tried playing tennis, but he didn’t like it. I had a skateboard, but he didn’t. I had memorized all of the dialogue from Hogan’s Heroes and watched back to back episodes, every night, running lines with the show, but he didn’t. (I’m not surprised by the last one, because my family hated me speaking all the lines during the show.)
I know what you’re thinking: why didn’t I try to do something Joe liked to do? Well, he liked to smoke and steal beer. I didn’t.
Common Ground
I was an active collector of beer cans at the time. You’d think that I could make use of Joe’s empties, but there are only so many Pabst Blue Ribbon cans you can add to your collection.
I was a fanatical collector of baseball cards, as well, doing it the old fashioned way: scrounging change and buying the packs of cards, then chewing the crappy gum while I checked for doubles. Joe made a real effort to help me with my collection, and showed up at my side door with a stack of packs of baseball cards.
“Where’d you get these?” I asked.
“Stole them from Lawsons.” He shoved them into my hands and took off running.
When he did it again the next day, I told him I couldn’t take them, and he had to stop. It’s not like I was a saint in all this, but my mother saw me with the cards the day before and grilled me. If I brought more loot into the house, it’d be my ass.
The Sound of Music
A few days later, Joe showed up at my side door again, this time holding an electric guitar. “Check it out,” he said.
It was a solid body with dual pickup. I didn’t know much of anything about electric guitars, but I’d seen it hanging on the wall of the music store on the corner, and was pretty sure it cost over two hundred dollars.
“I just stole it,” Joe said. “Can I hide it here?”
“No,” I said. “No you can’t.”
Joe was agitated and out of breath. He’d sprinted from the store to my house. “I can’t take it home,” he said. “My dad will find it and kill me. Can I hide it in your backyard?”
“No. My dad will find it and kill me.”
He pleaded, called me an asshole, and ran off through the backyard, no doubt avoiding the streets.
The Cooling Off Period
At some point, I said something about Joe being an asshole, and it got back to him, and then it was downright awkward between us.
This all happened in September, during the first month of school, when the weather in northern Ohio is pleasant, and there’s still plenty of sunshine in the evening. But I stayed inside, not taking any chances on bumping into Joe around the street. At school, we ignored each other.
The Point of This Story
Joe and I didn’t hit it off despite the similar age, school, and proximity of our homes.
I find that happens with books and TV shows, as well: you see something you think you should like, but pretty soon realize it’s not what you thought it’d be.
I’m pretty quick to give up on books. That may sound harsh coming from a writer, but I encourage all of you to spend your time reading books you think you can love. At the very least, don’t spend time with books that will try to use you as a fence for stolen property.
There are a lot of books in the world. I’m sure you can find some you love. Give more than one a try. One of the most important things that helps someone choose a book is a review.
If you happen to have read the novelette, Welcome to Willieville, you can leave a review wherever fine books are sold (and it’d help me a lot!).
Meanwhile, at My Writing Desk…
I’ve been revising the novel I completed last year, and also writing a new one. They’re both suspenseful crime stories in business settings. But really, the stories are just about people like you and me, trying to get by in a world that seems indifferent to their suffering… Sigh.
Upcoming Books and Stuff
If you prefer audiobooks, I’ve gotten my production of Welcome to Willieville approved, and it will soon be in audiobook stores all over the place. Producing the audio book was a whole new set of problems to figure out, and I’m really hopeful that I can do it again (if I can figure out the problem of dogs barking in the background).
Maybe You’d Like
It has a few five-star reviews. Here’s one that is short and sweet:
Loved this book from the start to the end, I couldn’t put it down. Highly recommend if you enjoy psychological thrillers
Give it a look. Maybe you two will get along grand.
Next Picayune
Thanks for reading the Mickey Picayune. I’ll likely continue this story about “Joe” next time, because thinking about how we met reminded me of how we parted.
All the best,
–mickey
P.S. If you know someone who might enjoy my writing style and taste in stories, please send them this Mickey Picayune, and have them sign up at https://sendfox.com/mickey