Transition to Phase II

Transition to Phase II

***VISIT MY STORE THANKS*** Getting out of bed was difficult this morning. There was a car chase of some kind involving lots of police officers in squad cars early this morning that woke me up around 4:45 am. Then I didn’t want to get up. Bed is simply too warm and cozy. Since my reading at Gatsby Books in Long Beach earlier this month, I feel like I entered some sort of transitional phase. The day after the reading was the beginning of the end of Phase 1 of my journey. I didn’t realize that Phase 1 had ended until just recently. My mood is different. Maybe it’s California, I told myself. Maybe I need a break, I wondered… and so on… I didn’t realize there was going to be different phases to this journey when I started, but obviously, there has to be different phases, different stages of action, reminiscing, peace of mind, et cetera. What was Phase 1? Going West for a book reading?? I guess. Getting out of Austin and going somewhere else?? I had a goal and a destination. Now what? What am I doing now? I don’t know. All I know is that I want to write and publish at least one new book in 2016. Anyway, I’ll figure it out. Everything is different, at least in the way that I perceive the world around me. I need to find a place to settle for a few months so that I can get to work on my next book, so that I can get into some sort of routine for a while–turns out I...
Welcome to my monthly newsletter: EXPANDED BLOG version

Welcome to my monthly newsletter: EXPANDED BLOG version

On the road since October 15th 2015, heading West… I ain’t the first to make the trip, and I’m certainly not the last, however I’m the only one at the helm of The Rollin’ Chateau. PLEASE CHECK OUT MY NEW WEB-STORE THANK YOU!!   I have driven close to 4000 miles so far. Woot! I have met lots of wonderful people, met up with some old friends, some family, and spent lots of time by myself reflecting on my life, my journey, and my goals. I write about all of it here on my blog. On my latest entry, I talk about several of the bookstores I’ve visited, review two books, and riff on a poem by Robert Bly; the entry before that, I talk briefly about how Henry Miller has touched my life… I try to publish a new entry every four to five days. My role at this point in time is to travel around North America, write down my thoughts, review books, and meet folks… and share all of it with you. That’s my job. Y’all keep telling me how y’all are loving my adventure… thank you! Please tell me more, tell me about it, leave comments, write me an email, tell your friends. My job is to entertain you through my words. So help me help you. What do you want to read about? The trick, of course, is how do I get paid for this job without begging? I certainly won’t turn down your gifts and donations–there has been quite a few so far, great big thanks to all of you–I wouldn’t have made...
Bookstores and Book reviews

Bookstores and Book reviews

I love bookstores. I love books. I brought with me quite a few books to keep me occupied, and yet I can’t help myself. I stop at every single bookstore I see on the way. And I buy more books. Why? Because one never possesses enough books. I’ve also been filling my Kindle with books. One of these days I will be able to read and comment on every single one of them. Hopefully. Starrlight Books in Flagstaff is a second hand shop. It is cramped, small, and I could hardly fit in the some of the store’s sections. I love that, by the way. The Public Library in Yarnell, AZ, I already talked about in a previous entry. Lovey little place. That’s where I picked up my copy of The Associate. I stopped at Peregrine Book Company downtown Prescott. They sell new books. I bought a copy of The Country of Marriage by Wendell Berry there. I haven’t written my review of that little beauty of a book just yet. So many things to do! So many things to say! It’s hard to fuck up a bookstore, and so far they’ve all been great. The only people who seem to be able to fuck up a bookstore are Hastings and BNB. But let’s not go there. Monterey so far has two amazing second hand shops, and I need to leave this place before I run out of money. BookBuyers on Lighthouse where I found Because It Is by Kenneth Patchen, and a collection of short stories by Robert Sheckley called Shards of Space. Sheckley is one of my...
One with the Universe

One with the Universe

“It is my belief that the immature artist seldom thrives in idyllic surroundings. What he seems to need, though I am the last to advocate it, is more first-hand experience of life—more bitter experience, in other words. In short, more struggle, more privation, more anguish, more disillusionment. These goads or stimulants he may not always hope to find in Big Sur. Here, unless he is on his guard, unless he is ready to wrestle with phantoms as well as bitter realities, he is apt to go to sleep mentally and spiritually. If an art colony is established here it will go the way of all the others. Artists never thrive in colonies. Ants do. What the budding artist needs is the privilege of wrestling with his problems in solitude—and now and then a piece of red meat.” Henry Miller from Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch. It’s been years since I’ve read Henry Miller. When I was a young man in my late teens, I read Tropic of Cancer which was a good enough shock, and then I read his trilogy, The Rosy Crucifixion which basically turned my life and my world around. I didn’t know you could do that with language. That you could be allowed to do that with language, more like it… and not get hanged by the tongue and castrated by the good citizens’ brigade. I never got a degree—one of the few things I regret—I quit my school career two weeks before the semester was over—I kind of wish somebody would have given me a good kick in the ass back then...
3000 miles on the road mark!

3000 miles on the road mark!

Southern California is cold! I bought some thermal “arctic tolerant” wool socks yesterday after both my feet just about froze off and ran back to Central Texas on their own. That would have left me in one hell of a bind. This morning, I am eternally grateful for wool and all the sheep on this little blue planet that revolves around a tiny little yellow star keeping us all nice and toasty… most of the time. What’s up with this High Desert thing anyway? I’d like a Low Desert, please, with plenty of water, preferably an ocean, a couple of swimming pools, and a Piña colada. Thank you. Driving up and down and around the mountain leaving Prescott, AZ the other day–after an amazing Thanksgiving with some great folks–I was driving my little happy jalopy at a banging 45 miles an hour once I reached some flat road–the curvy stuff I take at a slow easy 20 miles an hour–I noticed on the side of the road, a small wooden sign advertising a book sale, painted in big fat white letters on red. I didn’t react right away. I’m a bit slow. Eventually my mind and my eyes clicked. I slowed down, did a u-wee, backtracked, did another u-wee, and parked right along the side of the road, hiding the sign from all other drivers. Sorry, I didn’t notice till afterward. The Yarmell Public Library has a little bookstore behind the library. I followed the signs. The door was unlocked. I walked into a tiny little room stacked with a bunch of books, a few DVDs and plenty of...