M. David Hornbuckle

Tag: writing

  • Blog Name Change Explained

    Last week, I decided to change the name of this blog from “There Will Be Blog” to “Zen, Mississippi” in anticipation of my forthcoming second book, which is now in production and due to be published later this year by my own imprint Tritone Media. I also incorporated my other blog, which was dedicated to promoting my first book, into this one. So now all your M. David Hornbuckle news can be found in one location.

    The new book, of course, will be titled Zen, Mississippi, and it’s a novel about a man on a spiritual quest, led on by three fantastical characters that he invented as a child and have recently come back to life for him. He isn’t sure what he is looking for at first, but he comes to understand that it is about realizing the ways in which is both similar to and different from his father, who abandoned him when he was ten.

    It’s a serious book, but also a humorous book. And I’ll be talking about it much more in the coming weeks. Stay tuned.

  • Road Trip Day 16

    I got to Gainesville, FL in the early afternoon. I lived here from 1994-2001, and I played in a few bands. By the time I left I was feeling a little like a rock star, or at least a big fish in a small pond. And I was thrilled and flattered to find that the town has not forgotten me. This was the first thing I saw when I started walking around.

    But more on the Common Grounds show later. First stop was my book signing at Goering’s Book Store.

    After the sort of disappointing experience in Dothan, I really didn’t know what to expect. But I was really pleased with the turnout, and the bookstore was happy with it as well. I reunited with several old friends and made a few new ones.

    That theme continued at Common Grounds. I was really just overwhelmed with the love. And I was so busy chatting with everybody, I forgot to take any pictures. I’m sure some will show up on Facebook soon enough.

    Frog started things off by showing some videos from his trip to New York a couple of months ago. And then the brilliant Tom Miller read some of his famous poems, including possibly the best poem ever written by anyone, “Flea in My Urethra.” This was followed by a rousing set of country dance tunes by Gainesville legend Rob McGregor (and friends). I was seriously honored to have all these talented folks perform at my party.

    Finally I took the stage, and things started off well enough until I started taking requests, and then I had trouble remembering some lyrics in a song or two and the chords in another song or two, but it was all in good fun. I’m still reeling a bit from it all.

  • Road Trip Days 8-10

    Oxford, MS is Mecca, as far as I’m concerned, and it’s been far too long since my last pilgrimage there. Naturally, my first stop was Square Books, where, I’m quite thrilled to announce, my book is now on the shelf. It was a shitty rainy day, though, so I hunkered down at High Point Coffee to take advantage of the wi-fi and get a little work done.

    Eventually, I satisfied my obligation to “the man” and spent the next 2.5 days hanging out and catching up with old friends Melanie Thomas Dobbs and Parrish Baker. On the second night, I played a couple of sets at Parrish’s bar, during which Parrish challenged me to play songs that he expected I hadn’t played since high school. Needless to say, perhaps, I met and exceeded this challenge.

    And of course, I paid my respects to Mr. Faulkner at Rowan Oak. Because if Oxford is my Mecca, Rowan Oak is my Ka’bah.

    To top it off, I had what I can only describe as a mighty fine plate of catfish, friend okra, and cheese grits at Ajax Diner.

    Next stop, Birmingham, AL where I’ll crash with my parents for a few days.

  • Roadtrip Days 5-6

    On the plane into Richmond, I sat next to a very nice lady who kindly chatted with me throughout the flight about the stories in the Reader’s Digest that she had with her and even quizzed me on the vocabulary in the “WordPower” section. She was a hoot, and she promised to pick up a copy of my book when she got to Charlottesville.

    After landing, it was back to the highways to see my old bandmate Angela DiPaolo in Wake Forest, NC. Another old music friend, Crystal Dawn, is also living there. The three of us joined up with Angela’s friend Will to play some music at Gigi’s House Bistro. We played for about three hours, all sitting in on each others’ sets, whether we knew the songs or not. It was really almost too much fun. I crashed at Angela’s. By the time I remembered to take my camera out, everyone was in pajamas and refused to have their picture taken. So here is a picture of Angela’s cat, Lyric.

    In the morning, Crystal (who also stayed over, as did her dog Lucy) made bacon, eggs, and biscuits. Then I shot some hoops with Angela’s three boys. Again, almost too much fun–especially since the goal was set low enough for me to dunk.

    Finally, I had to hit the road again. I had about a 7.5 hour drive to Murfreesboro, TN to visit college friends Holly and Brian. I passed this Adam&Eve outlet store along the way, and if you know what Adam&Eve sells, you know why I think this is hilarious. Yes, those are lingerie mannequins in the window.

    I got to Murfreesboro just in time for dinner. Brian made some really awesome Italian wedding soup and sweet tea (of course), which I consumed in copious amounts. Tomorrow is Memphis.

  • Roadtrip Days 2-4

    On Day 2, I headed off to Charlottesville to meet up with Mark Rock, aka Peter Markush. I stopped in the exurbs between Baltimore and DC for the first of what will probably be many Chick-fil-a sandwiches consumed on this trip. I also took the first picture with my new camera. As you can see, I was not able to refrain from consuming the sandwich before taking a picture of it.

    I found my way to Random Row Books, where I was set to perform with Mark Rock and a very good guitar/cello duo called Barling and Collins. It was cold and rainy out,  so the event was sparsely attended. Barling, Collins, and we all sat in with Mark Rock, and during my set, Mark Rock accompanied me on piano as I read “The Boy Who Cried Wolves” (which, incidentally, was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize).

    That afternoon, I got bad news about Poly, so I decided to drive to Richmond early in the morning and catch a flight back to NYC. By the evening of Day 3, however, we got good news from Poly’s biopsy. The tumor doesn’t appear to be malignant, so the immediate threat is not as serious as we feared. She will probably be okay.

    Day 4, I shared some bacon and eggs with Poly, did some dayjob work, ran some errands, and watched TV. That night I attended Jonathan Letham’s reading in at Book Court in Brooklyn. It was pretty good, but not as good as the Big Buford sandwich I had at Checkers on the way there. After the reading, I packed my things to prepare for an early flight back to Virginia to pick up where I left off.

  • Smell of Books

    Now there’s one less excuse for you to not buy my e-book.

    http://smellofbooks.com/

  • New Work: The Boy Who Cried Wolves

    The new issue of Fogged Clarity just came out, and it features a short story of mine called “The Boy Who Cried Wolves.”

    This issue also features an interview with author Benjamin Percy, fiction by Harvey Havel, and a bunch of other multimedia coolness. This is one of the nicest looking literary/arts magaizines on the web, IMO, so please check it out.

    Also, check out the highly pretentious “Statement of Intent” that I submitted to them along with the story (one of their requirements for submission).

    One of the things I’ve been interested in exploring with my fiction is the way that a new story can be affected by a an old one that is already deeply imbedded in our consciousness. In this case, only the title is a play on words from a traditional fable, and the rest of the idea flowed from the slight change in the wording. But because of that small wordplay, the reader’s experience is colored through the association with the traditional story even though the two actual stories are actually quite different.

  • I Am a Literary Upstart

    [repost from There Will Be Blog]

    As a semifinalist in the L Magazine’s “Literary Upstart” contest, I was asked to read last night at the Slipper Room. There was a sizeable and enthusiastic audience and three other semifinalists reading. At the end, the four of us were critiqued by a panel of judges, American Idol style, and one reader moved on to the finals. That one reader was not me.

    I wish I could tell you the names of the other readers or of the judges, but I don’t have that information easily accessible at the moment. Maybe I’ll update later to include that. In any case, the judges’ comments were mostly superficial, and they clearly had not understood one of the major points about my story–so I really couldn’t take the whole thing very seriously. So here for your enjoyment, is my performance from last night, which one of the judges said reminded him of a”city council meeting.”

  • I Am a Literary Upstart

    As a semifinalist in the L Magazine’s “Literary Upstart” contest, I was asked to read last night at the Slipper Room. There was a sizeable and enthusiastic audience and three other semifinalists reading. At the end, the four of us were critiqued by a panel of judges, American Idol style, and one reader moved on to the finals. That one reader was not me.

    I wish I could tell you the names of the other readers or of the judges, but I don’t have that information easily accessible at the moment. Maybe I’ll update later to include that. In any case, the judges’ comments were mostly superficial, and they clearly had not understood one of the major points about my story–so I really couldn’t take the whole thing very seriously.

    So here for your enjoyment, is my performance from last night, which one of the judges said reminded him of a “city council meeting.”

  • The Last Dead Man

    I was digging through some papers, looking for a particular piece of sheet music I thought I had. I couldn’t find it, but I found this poem that I wrote in 1994 after I saw a man get hit by a bus. The Latin quotation is from Ovid’s version of the Orpheus story, although I don’t know how I knew that in 1994. I wish I could find more of the poetry I wrote during that period, but I think this might be the only surviving relic, other than some things that eventually became song lyrics. I tended to not type them up or save them on my computer because I wasn’t submitting them anywhere, so they were just written by hand on loose leaf and then stuffed into random crevices and mostly lost.

    The Last Dead Man

    The last dead man I saw
    Sang the strangest dirge

    Between his moans:
    “Umbra subit terras.”

    No wind to fight the heat,
    I only wanted to know

    If he was alright.
    “Umbra subit terras.”

    It was in the paper the next week,
    And I could see it again:

    The wobbly, white bicycle
    On the wrong side of the road

    His wife left town afterward
    With her sixteen cats

    I grew interested in her
    Tarot cards and her poverty

    He’d had to make a phone call
    About a job and scraped up change

    He was eager
    He was afraid

    And when the sirens faded,
    I had to tell the police and lawyers

    What I had seen:
    “Umbra subit terras.”

    And the bus drove away
    With his blood on the fender

    And the concrete too recorded
    What I had seen

    In bland reflection, a moaned melody:
    I am suddenly an earthly ghost,

    Slightly interested,
    Slightly ashamed.

    —M. David Hornbuckle
    9/1/1994, revised 4/18/2008