I like that car commercial where the guy goes to his class reunion and sees his old girlfriend across the room. They smile at each other wistfully, and share a few flashbacks before moving on with their new loves and, presumably, new cars. I've gone to some of those reunions, only the old girlfriends weren't near as gorgeous as that young fella's in the commercial. I probably wasn't either; however, unlike that guy, I did shave and get a haircut before I went.
A first novel is a lot like a first love. Your relationship with it was pretty intense, infatuation blinded obvious flaws, you hated to let it go but eventually other things drew you away, and when you look at it years past it ain't near as perfect as you remembered it. Still…
My first novel and I are having a reunion of sorts. It has been re-released with a new cover, a new publisher. Thought I'd re-introduce it here; give a brief synopsis, a short excerpt.
My publisher considers the book an inspirational novel, anyway that's the imprint he put it in. I suppose that'll work. My inclination for its genre is late young adult with a crossover into adult fiction – meaning appealing to readers over 18, too; not…you know, "adult" fiction. It's kind of a guy novel, because it revolves around football, high school football in small town America and all the intensity that goes with that. Most of the characters are male. However, I've had quite a few women tell me they like the story, once they get around the football stuff. Oddly enough, some women even liked the football action. But it's not just about football.
The book is called GAME, an American novel. It's available for the Kindle, Nook, and all other e-book readers for just $2.99. Trade paperback is also available for considerably more money. I'll send you a signed copy, if you wish. Go to my website for details. So here's a short excerpt:
Setup: September, 1974. Every Saturday morning
during the football season many of the men in the small Oklahoma town of Tsalagee gather in the only eatery in town to discuss the previous night’s high school football game. This season, unlike most, the team is off to a
surprisingly good start. Friday night, their Redmen had beaten the bigger classed, but mal-coached, Wideford (pronounced “Widyfurd”) Buccaneers. The coming week
they’ll face the reigning 2A State Champion, and fearsome, Hert City Trojans.
The boys down at Arlene's Cafe–those farmers, merchants, tradesmen of the town–lightened up a little on their coaching suggestions and criticisms after the Wideford game. Guarded optimism even came from one booth that the Redmen could whip the coming Friday's opponent, the Hert City Trojans.
"You know," R. B. Dorn offered slowly as he lounged back in his booth and stared prophetically at a point on Arlene's ceiling, "Them boys …" He squinted into the mist of the future to double check what he was going to foretell. "Them boys just might could …" He paused again to draw in his listeners a little further, while he maneuvered his toothpick to remove a piece of Arlene's pie crust from between his left incisor and first molar.
"Them boys could what, Arbee?" Hayward Yost asked impatiently from his oversized perch on a counter stool.
"If that boy Tarlson," R. B. finally continued. "If that boy Tarlson kin bust through them Hert City boys like he did against Widyfurd, an' if that defensive line kin stop that colored tailback of Hert City's..." R. B. extended another exasperating pause. "...then I believe we could whup them boys."
That prediction brought a lot of chatter and several whistles from Arlene's patrons. Buck Buchanan spit some brown goo contemptuously into the Del Monte green beans can he carried with him for just such a need, and snorted derisively in R. B.'s direction. Arlene rolled her eyes and smiled conspiratorially at Hayward Yost as she topped off his coffee cup. Soc Ninekiller remained passive and said nothing.
My name is Phil Truman and I write novels.
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Legends of Tsalagee