Yes, I would drive a hundred miles to talk about writing, reading, and books. Gladly. You had me at books. Earlier this week, I received an invitation to join Mya Clark at KAMR Local 4 in Amarillo for her podcast, Four More Pages, “a podcast about all things reading.” A chance to sit down with someone who wanted to talk about the very things I could happily discuss for hours? I was already packing. After fourteen years of working on Midnight Radio, getting to carry a finished copy into that conversation was something special.
Naturally, I had to check it out. Reading is one of my favorite things to do, second only to writing. Sleeping comes in somewhere behind those two. Between writing, standing beside fellow veterans, and supporting public libraries, I’m proud of what’s keeping me busy. It’s work I’m honored to have the chance to do.
I watched her episode about Conan the Barbarian author Robert E. Howard, featuring Jack Kessler, and was glued to the entire conversation. An intelligent discussion about books and writing, complete with pictures of the room where Howard wrote at his parents’ house? Yes, please.
I’m proud to count Howard among my fellow Texas authors. I was also saddened by the discussion of his death by suicide. It brought to mind John Kennedy Toole, who also died by suicide. My friend Linda Coffee recommended his A Confederacy of Dunces to me, and it became one of my all-time favorite books.
There’s something painful about finding so much life in someone’s writing and knowing the person behind it was struggling. We can’t know everything another person is carrying. But we can make time for one another. Reaching people who are hurting is part of why outreach matters so much to me.
One person can make a choice to go out into the world and strengthen others. Let someone know they aren’t alone. Help them find a way forward. Stand beside fellow veterans. Shine a light on the real heroes, including the people who support our children and help them grow.
People who choose to do good, then get up the next morning and do it again.
Serial do-gooders.
That’s a theme in Midnight Radio, too. This story has darkness, but it also has people who choose to stand beside someone else and face it together.
That’s why I’m excited about setting out on a Texas Panhandle tour. I want to stand beside fellow veterans, visit public libraries, and meet the people helping their communities grow. I want to hear their stories and learn about the work they’re doing.
Talking about my book comes second for me. Midnight Radio has given me a reason to walk through the door, but the people are why I want to stay and visit.
Naturally, I forgot to mention that to Mya. Give a writer a microphone, and he’ll remember what he wanted to say somewhere on the drive home.
So yes, I was very interested in having a conversation with Mya Clark.
There was just one small concern.
I’ve been speaking in front of people for most of my life. Teaching, broadcasting, sitting behind a microphone. Usually, I’m comfortable doing it. But the last time I met someone connected to this new chapter of my writing life, my nervous system apparently decided we were being chased by a bear.
I’m talking about meeting Sara Burton at the library.
That surprised me. Maybe I hadn’t slept enough. Maybe it was the gravity of meeting someone who works tirelessly to encourage children to read, including my own. Or maybe some part of me understood that my writing career was changing, and my life wasn’t going to be quite the same.
Whatever it was, it felt like an icy finger down my back.
Would that happen again when I met Mya?
Then I watched this Ernest Hemingway interview, and I felt considerably better.
This has nothing to do with liking or disliking Hemingway. But that interview was abysmal. The man had just won the 1954 Nobel Prize in Literature, and somehow watching him made my own upcoming interview seem much less intimidating.
Surely, no matter what came out of my mouth, I wasn’t going to be that bad.
Sorry, Ernest. You’ve helped another writer in a way you probably never intended.
The morning of the interview, I woke up and checked the weekly newspaper.
Oh, what’s this?
Uuggguuuaahh.
I’m on page 3A.
I looked down and thought, “Well, beam me up! You done messed up A-Aron!”
Elisabeth Tanner does good work, and I appreciate her contributions to The Intrepid, which I read regularly. Seeing my story in its pages was something special.
But wow. That forehead, man.
I love it.
Thank you, Daddy. Some families pass down watches. Ours apparently passes down enough forehead to receive satellite television.
On a sadder Star Trek note, I also want to acknowledge the passing of Sir Patrick Stewart. Thank you for giving us Captain Picard, and for all the intelligence, warmth, and dignity you brought to that chair. You’ll be missed.
With the newspaper adventure behind me, I packed a paperback of Midnight Radio for Mya, grabbed my trusty metallic red paint pen, and loaded Alpha into the child safety seat.
Safety first. He’s an older model.
Then I filled the tank, and we were off.
Since the Midnight Radio iHeart station closed down, I’ve had to get SiriusXM for my road music. I was rocking out to Lithium on the way to Amarillo.
Ahh, how I miss having a fantastic radio station.
I arrived thirty minutes before fifteen minutes before four.
Forty-five minutes early, for those of you who don’t calculate arrival times like a military operation.
With some time to spare, I called Linda. We talked, and she asked me a few practice interview questions so I could organize my thoughts.
Then fifteen minutes prior rolled around. Red pen in my pocket, paperback in one hand, Alpha in the other. Time to find the entrance.
See, I’m not from these parts. I live in a very small town, although I’ve lived all over. In my experience, when a building’s entrance is hard to find, somebody usually explains exactly where to go in an email.
I walked past a back door and saw a fellow wearing a KAMR logo on his shirt, cigarette in his mouth. He looked me dead in the eyes.
I looked back.
Now, I’ll admit my eyes may have looked a little wild. That’s what enthusiasm looks like when sleep has been outvoted. I knew I was delighted to be there. He had considerably less information to work with.
He looked down at Alpha.
He looked concerned.
Uh-oh.
He darted inside as I continued toward what I assumed would eventually become the front of the building. Along the way, I passed a lady carrying a cat carrier.
The cat had some things to say.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t find the front door, and my imagination had already begun writing the security encounter.
“No, his name is Alpha. He’s my writing companion. Look, he has his own badge on the back cover!”
“Ouch! Look, his badge is like yours!”
“No, I’m not insane. Just eccentric. If you hear the story, it all makes sense.”
“No, I can’t drop him. He’s my friend, and he would never forgive me.”
“Ouch! Stop hitting me! For real, man, how old are you? About my age?”
But none of that happened.
I still couldn’t find the front door.
Where did the cat lady go?
Come to think of it, she’d looked concerned when I passed her, too.
So had the cat.
I don’t understand it. What’s alarming about a grown six-foot-four man with wild eyes, a prominent forehead, and a dark vest wandering around carrying what looks like a child’s toy typewriter?
Eventually, I decided to use the same door I’d seen her go through.
And there it was. A reception desk.
“I’m here for a four o’clock interview with Mya Clark.”
“Okay. Please take a seat.”
There were nice leather loveseats in the waiting area. They looked comfortable, and I’m pleased to report that they were. I sat across from the lady and her cat, who was still lodging complaints about the indignity of the entire situation.
Alpha remained quiet as I set him on the coffee table.
“Hello. Your cat doesn’t seem to be having a good time. I brought my pet, too.”
I pointed to Alpha.
She explained that she was there to talk about the free microchipping month at Amarillo Animal Management and Welfare.
“I see. And she must be a cat who needs to be adopted?”
“Yes. Her name is Sparkle, and she just keeps complaining. What are you here for?”
“I’m Jerry Adams. I’m an author, and I wrote the book Midnight Radio.”
As we talked, I watched that initial look of apprehension melt away.
She asked why it had taken fourteen years to write a book and whether using old technology like Alpha had held me back.
Naturally, I defended his honor.
Alpha helps me write without distractions. He doesn’t offer me breaking news, social media, or fourteen things I should buy instead of finishing a chapter.
He has one job.
I’m the one who took fourteen years.
We had a very pleasant conversation, and I’m glad I met her. If you’d like to learn more about the animal welfare program we were discussing, here’s a segment about Chip-or-Treat and free October microchipping.
While we were talking, I explained why I wouldn’t be narrating the audiobook myself.
“My voice sounds like Garfield the Cat.”
Sparkle went silent.
Apparently, she’d been waiting for someone who spoke the language.
Then Mya came out, introduced herself, and walked me through the newsroom to the podcast studio.
We talked for about five minutes before the interview. Just enough time to get acquainted, settle in, and let the nerves disappear.
After all that anticipation, I was doing exactly what I’d driven a hundred miles to do: talking with someone who wanted to talk about books.
At the end of our conversation, Mya asked whether I would read a passage from the book.
“Yes, I would.”
I flipped through my copy and found the passage I’d chosen for the November 5 signing at Childress Public Library, where Alex Knight describes evil.
I read it.
For a moment afterward, the room was quiet.
“Wow. That gave me chills! Those few sentences describe what the book is all about. I don’t know why you say you don’t want to read the audiobook. I would listen to you read the whole thing.”
Mya Clark, following the reading
Well.
Garfield wasn’t prepared for that.
I’d driven to Amarillo hoping to have a good conversation about books. I came home with something encouraging to carry with me, too.
Thank you, Mya.
I’ll post a link here when the interview releases on Veterans Day, November 11. I’ll also have more speaking engagements related to Veterans Day to share, so keep checking the blog as this Midnight Radio journey continues.
Once I got home, I went back to work on the desktop Midnight Radio Studio broadcasting software. DJ Electra helped me test it for a few hours. We made several updates, have a few more to go, and the software is working well.
Apparently, a hundred-mile drive and a podcast interview count as the first half of a day now.
Alpha made it home safely, too.
No microchip required.
If you’d like a signed copy of Midnight Radio like the one I brought Mya, you can order yours here. I’ll sign it with the trusty red pen. Alpha supervises, but his handwriting is terrible.
And if you live in the Texas Panhandle and would like to give Sparkle a home, contact Amarillo Animal Management and Welfare and ask about her. You can also browse their adoptable animals and find a companion of your own. Sparkle has plenty to say. I suspect she’d make an excellent book critic.
Join us tonight, October 30, at 8 p.m. Central! I’ll be talking about my book, Midnight Radio, with my friend Electra on her YouTube channel. Watch the interview here →
