A hole in the space-time continuum. (Notes by M.C. O'Connor.)
24 March 2007
Enough lit crit. Time for some old-fashioned American hucksterism. M.C. has his own stuff to show off and brag about. (Soon I will have a website, and you, Gentle Reader, will go there and get it.) Today I am bragging about my Summer of 2006 Project, which was a travel memoir of my Summer of 2005 Scotland Odyssey. If you are catching on to the Summer Theme here, you will understand the hopeless mental rut of the professional schoolteacher. School year = brain and soul sucked out by carnivorous youth. Summer = joy, bliss, and self-indulgence. Repeat. Retire after multiple repetitions. Sorry, back to shameless self-promotion. My creative efforts resulted in a chapbook, 8 1/2 by 5 1/2 inches, 4o pages with map and photos. I have a lovely little program called "ClickBook" (vers. 9) from Blue Squirrel that lets you format word processor documents in a variety of print-ready layouts. After some hilarious errors, I managed a tidy booklet of about 9000 words. I called it Whisky Tales. If you send me money, I will mail you a copy. WT is the gripping tale of a lad and his lass searching for the perfect spirit. Over hill and dale, moor and mountain we journeyed, drinking nearly unpronouncable drams which we pronounced eminently quaffable. I think it is one hell of a read and can't believe the Scotch Malt Whisky Association hasn't seen fit to make me their Grand American Poo-bah because of it. Alas, there is no justice in this world.