I keep telling people that I’m writing a book. I’ve been telling them for more than 15 years actually, but recently, these claims have had a certain amount of truth attached to them. It turns out that what was holding me back was my inability to type, and, of course, the fact that I am a lazy, fat, procrastinating, gasbag. I always had the story in me, fermenting somewhere in the bowels of my brain, and in my own defense, I did manage to pass a couple of passages from it, which stained the pages of GOLF MAGAZINE in the form of the “Uncle Dickie” articles. But now, it’s time to announce that the entire book has been surgically removed from my system, and my body is once again working properly. It was a hard cover as well, so it really hurt.
The working title for this literary masterpiece is “Gussett of the Wood,” and some of you may remember, a long time ago I asked for your suggestions, all of which were considerably worse than “Gussett of the Wood.” So there you go. It will be available before Father’s Day this year, and several publishers are fighting for the right to charge way too much for it as I write, although I will say that I’m leaning toward Kinko’s, due to their aggressive recycling policy, and the softness and absorbency of the paper they use. I know where most of these tomes will end up, and nobody needs a paper cut down there, I can tell you from experience.
Yes, I read McCord’s last one, too. This book will be a different experience, though. If I had to describe it, and I don’t, but I’m going to, I’d say it was a story of love, honor, betrayal, lust, and incontinence, between a clan of Neanderthal Scottish cave-dwellers, a sex-crazed Jack Russell, a lubricated ferret, a Nazi policeman, a three-legged sheep, various crippled and insane ex-servicemen, a couple of gay caddies, the middle finger of the patron saint of Scotland, and an elderly super-hero. I have this nagging feeling that you might have read something like it before, but hey, sometimes you just have to take a chance.
It’s one of those books that you could read on a flight from Newark to La Guardia, and still have time to absorb most of USA Today. There will be pictures, a couple of wee maps, and a glossary of terms for those who don’t understand the way that the Scottish people talk, and believe me, these people make Colin Montgomerie sound like Dan Rather.
I know that this is a cheap, and transparent promo for the benefit of my own personal self, but I don’t care. Mike Purkey, the editor of my magazine column, showed me how to outline the story, and cut and paste, and attach, and all kinds of really cool things, and now, I am an actual writer! I might really suck, but I wrote a book, and a lot of you out there are going to read it, if I have to go down to Kinko’s, bind the damn things myself, and FedEx them to you.
That is all. I’m going back to writing in 1,500-word bursts of verbal flatulence again. Happy New Year, and by the way, does anyone know who won that match play tournament?