Author’s News (Archived)
(10-28-07) Live in Bloomington-Normal? Read “Follow Me”
You can find my latest short story, entitled “Follow Me,” in the Bloomington-Normal publication 60 Plus News and Views. It is about a little boy whose big brother wakes him up in the middle of the night wielding a rifle. As you can imagine, nothing good can happen next.
60 Plus News and Views is a free publication and can be found at the following Bloomington-Normal locations (as well as 235 others):
Suds Subaru on the corner of Fort Jesse and Towanda
Busey Bank on Fort Jesse
Kroger on the corner of Landmark and Visa
Commerce Bank on the corner of Towanda and College
Tuffy Muffler on Vernon
Kmart behind Kep’s restaurant on 1AA Drive
Eastland Mall at the main door between JC Penny and Macy’s
Kroger on Oakland Avenue
Schnucks
Jewell-Osco on Veterans Parkway
Borders bookstore
Kroger on Main Street
Bloomington Public Library on Olive Street
Drop Off Laundry on Main Street, across from Kroger
If you read it, feel free to get in touch and tell me what you think!
(10-8-07) Read “Into the Pit” At Town & City Magazine!Town & City Magazine, the premier guide to entertainment and social life in Bloomington-Normal, has published my horror story entitled “Into the Pit” at their website. If you’d like to give it a read, simply visit http://www.townandcitymag.com/departments/lit.html.
And don’t forget, if you like that short story, there’s plenty more! I have two short story collections available at most online retailers, but you can get a personalized copy of each here at my website, www.swilliamfoley.com!
Thanks for your interest!
(9-25-07) The First Of Two Big AnnouncementsIt’s finally time to reveal one of two big announcements concerning my writing.
I am now the monthly short story writer for a local publication called 60 Plus News & Views! It is a free periodical (yes, they pay me for my stories) that can be found in most grocery stores, coffeehouses, medical facilities, and general public gathering points. There is a Bloomington, IL, edition as well as a Peoria, IL, edition, and my stories should be featured in both. You can look forward to my original, new stories every month in 60 Plus News & Views! Go grab your copy and let me know what you think!
In the next few weeks, I hope to share my second big announcement!
(9-12-07) Join Me At the Allin Township LibraryI would be honored if you joined me at the Allin Township Library this Saturday, the 15th, in Stanford, Illinois. I will give a brief talk on the writing process and discuss various methods of getting published. The event begins at 2:00 p.m., followed by a book signing and light refreshments. My two short story collections and novel will be available for purchase.
Stanford, Illinois is about twenty minutes west of Bloomington. The Allin Township Library’s address is:
116 West Main Street
Stanford, IL 61774
The event will end at 4:00 p.m. Hope to see you there!
(9-6-07) So I Started This Group …I started a forum over at MySpace in order to better interact with my readers. It’s a place where they ask me questions about my writing, have conversations with me and each other, and generally socialize. If you’re a MySpace member, feel free to join. If you’re not, you can still check out what’s being written, you just can’t participate. If you want to participate, simply open a MySpace account by visiting www.myspace.com. It’s free and pretty simple to navigate.
To check out the forum entitled “Official Group For Readers Of Scott William Foley,” simply click on this address: http://groups.myspace.com/readersofscottwilliamfoley.
Hope to see you there!
(9-4-07) I’m On Facebook Hey Friends,
In an effort to search out new readers and hopefully make some great friends in the process, I’ve opened a Facebook account. It’s a mess right now as I figure it out, and it’s the same content as here, but feel free to “friend” me over there if you’re so inclined.
I’ll stick around MySpace, but there’s too much networking opportunity at Facebook to ignore. Writers must always work to find a larger audience, after all. That is, unless they’re satisfied lingering in obscurity.
You can visit me at Facebook here.
(8-5-07) Book Signing or Party? Felt Like Both! I just want to thank all the people who showed up at Henry’s Market in Beardstown yesterday for my book signing. It was an all-around fun event and I had a great time catching up with old friends and meeting new ones. It truly felt like a party!
I’d never been in Henry’s Market because it’s relatively new, and I have to say when I walked in I was really impressed. It had a wonderful ambiance and a wide selection of food and drinks. Definitely had a coffeehouse vibe going, which I loved. The wines for the wine tasting were pretty good as well, and Kristen and I made sure to buy a bottle of our favorite of the bunch. If you haven’t been, you definitely need to pop in and say hi to the Park family.
Cate Parish and the Beardstown Houston Memorial Library sponsored the event, and Cate took care of all the coordinating and helped with the publicity. I really appreciate her hard work and I hope she gets more people taking advantage of the library as a result of the book signing and wine tasting. You can visit Cate Parish and the Beardstown Houston Memorial Library by clicking here for their website, and here for their MySpace page.
We also had a really cool surprise when Pete Vredenburgh showed up with a band mate and they jammed a bit during the signing and tasting. Pete’s a super cool guy and if you ever need a band for the Central Illinois area (and possibly beyond), you can get in touch with him here.
Once again, thanks so much to everyone who showed up and spent their hard-earned money on my books. I had many captivating conversations and relished the experience to no end.
(8-2-07) VISIT ME AT HENRY’S MARKET SATURDAY, AUGUST 4th This Saturday, August 4th, I will be signing books at Henry’s Market in Beardstown, IL, from 3:00-5:00 pm. I would love it if you could drop by and say hello! I will have my three books available for purchase: Souls Triumphant: A Novel ($15.95); The Imagination’s Provocation: Volume I – A Short Story Collection ($12.95); The Imagination’s Provocation: Volume II – A Short Story Collection ($13.95).
Not only is it a book signing, but Henry’s Market will also be hosting a wine and cheese tasting. They will be the first to unveil California’s Black Oak Wines in Beardstown, and they will have two reds and two whites for you to sample, as well as many fine cheeses.
And, if you’re like me, you’ll stay for dinner when the event ends. They have steak, pork chops, rib eye, marinated chicken, many kinds of hot and cold sandwiches, a salad bar, and on Saturday they’ll also have in-house smoked baby back ribs. You can wash your meal down with soft drinks, bottled beers, wines, or their drinks on-tap—Guinness, Sam Adams, and Blue Moon.
The Beardstown Houston Memorial Library is sponsoring this event. Have you dropped by and checked out a book lately? It’s a wonderful facility and they would love to see you there.
Henry’s Market is located at 220 Washington Street in Beardstown, IL. If you’re old like me, you’ll remember it use to be True Value on the town square. Have some questions for the good people at Henry’s Market? Call them at (217) 323-9911.
This is an open-house event, so people are more than welcome to come and go as they please, and there is absolutely no obligation to buy anything. I hope you can swing by and say hi!
(7-13-07) A THANK YOU TO LINCOLN LAND’S LITERATURE 111 A few nights ago I had the pleasure of visiting Lincoln Land Community College’s Literature 111—The Novel. Mr. Randy Reichert teaches the course, and I was honored when he began teaching my novel, Souls Triumphant, last year. The students move from Mary Shelley, to F. Scott Fitzgerald, to William Faulkner, and then to Scott William Foley. You can imagine how cool that is for me.
We’d been trying to work out a class visit for some time, and this summer things thankfully finally worked out and I was able to make it.
Mr. Reichert called me a few days before I was to make my appearance, very excited, and told me that his students were dissecting my novel meticulously and seemingly greatly enjoying it. This, of course, got me even more excited to visit as well. More importantly, he told me he was reinforcing the need for them to look at my work critically and to ask me the hard questions if they so desired. He wanted them to get answers about Souls Triumphant, and the creation of it, straight from the horse’s mouth. This was more than fine with me.
When I arrived, the students could not have been more delightful. In fact, two of them, Kyle and Liz, helped me find my way to the classroom when it was pretty obvious I had no idea where I was going. As soon as I entered with them, Kim, a student who had already arrived, greeted me with a warm smile and hello. I took my seat, and as the rest of the students entered, such as Barb and Kokuvi, they too said hello and we initiated conversation. This set my mind at ease, because I could tell this was a group who had a lot of confidence and wasn’t afraid to talk.
Once class started, I have to tell you, I heard some certifiable moments of genius. Mr. Reichert’s class was making connections and drawing conclusions that even I had never thought of. To say they impressed me would be a massive understatement. We talked for just over two hours, and not once did I ever get the impression they were watching the clock or trying to speed the class up so they could maybe leave early. They were articulate, thoughtful, candid, objectively critical, polite, and—best of all—fun!
So, I’d like to thank Mr. Randy Reichert, and I’d like to thank the students of Literature 111—The Novel. As many of you know, I don’t make enough money to live off my writing, and sometimes I get discouraged and ask myself why I spend all this time on something that isn’t getting much recognition. Well, after meeting with Kyle, Liz, Kim, Barb, and Kokuvi, I remembered why. They absolutely reaffirmed all my beliefs in why I work so hard at what I do, and I will always be grateful to them for that.
(6-6-07) ARTICLE PUBLISHED IN HEALTHY CELLS OF BLOOMINGTON If you happen to find yourself in the Bloomington/Normal area of Illinois, be sure to pick up a copy of Healthy Cells of Bloomington. It’s a local magazine that specializes in promoting healthier living in Central Illinois. Anyway, I have a nonfiction article published in it called “Bringing You Home” With Heartland Home Medical Supply. The magazine is free and you can find it at most grocery stores, coffeehouses, and healthcare organizations in Bloomington/Normal.
(5-4-07) NICE REVIEW OF SOULS TRIUMPHANT At the risk of seeming egocentric, I’d love for you to check out a review of Souls Triumphant written by freelance reviewer RJ McGill. You can read it by clicking here!
(11-11-06) INVITATION ACCEPTED Well, friends, it had to happen. I finally realized my procrastination had to come to an end, and so thus I have started my latest novel.
This is honestly the first real writing I’ve done in months. From about July until now I’ve been editing, revising, submitting, and all manners of things that involved my writing, but I wasn’t really doing any new writing (discounting these little entries you so enjoy, of course).
Sure, I’ve got short stories out there waiting to be picked up (hopefully), and I have either a novella or a very long short story (I’m not sure which) being read over by my very busy in-house editor (Kristen), but those are things that have been on the burner for months (in some cases even years). (Wow, look at all the parentheses sprinkled about!)
Anyway, the idea for this novel started long ago when my wife’s Aunt Pam gave me an old, old, old Royal typewriter. You know, the kind that actually needs a ribbon and doesn’t plug in to anything? Well, that got me thinking. But that’s about all it did.
Then, on August 19th of this very year, I finally decided to plot out all the thoughts I’d been having about that typewriter and the story surrounding it. Right now I’ve got about 23 chapters’ worth of story. You all know, though, that those 23 could turn into 123 or 13. Stories take on a life of their own, and now that mine’s crowned, it’s in charge. I’m just going to help it work its way out.
So what am I looking at here? Is this thing going to take me a couple of months? Doubtful. When I wrote the first draft of my novel Souls Triumphant, I was a bachelor and living in a basement. I substitute taught during the day and wrote, wrote, wrote at night. Even with having virtually no responsibilities, that first draft still took me six months.
But, this isn’t about a finished product for me. This is all about opening my mind to the characters screaming to get out and making their acquaintance. This is all about accepting an invitation into their world.
I hope someday you’ll accept an invitation into that world as well.
(Oh, the working title? What else?—The Typewriter. Lame, I know. Something better will pop up later. After all, not many people know this, but Souls Triumphant originally had the title Second Chances. Of course, if you don’t like the title Souls Triumphant, that won’t impress you much . . . )
(9-17-06) THANKS FOR THE GREAT TURNOUT! Thanks so much to all the people that braved the rainy weather today and came out for the book signing! I appreciate your kindness and generosity and I truly hope you enjoy my books!
(9-14-06) VISIT SCOTT WILLIAM FOLEY THIS SUNDAY IN BEARDSTOWN, IL Please come visit me and other local authors at the Beardstown Houston Memorial Library this Sunday, September 17th, from 2:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. I’ll have my newest short story collection available as well as my other two books. Each author will briefly speak from 2:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m. and then we will sign books from 3:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m.
Light refreshments will be available and your appearance would be greatly appreciated!
Hope to see you this weekend!
Beardstown Houston Memorial Library
13 Boulevard Road
Beardstown, IL 62618-8105
217-323-4204
(8-17-06) BOOK COVER PREVIEW
Here’s an advance look at the cover of my latest short story collection, The Imagination’s Provocation: Volume II!
(8-10-06) “PUNCHER’S PARADISE” - A SAMPLE STORY FROM MY UPCOMING COLLECTION THE IMAGINATION’S PROVOCATION: VOLUME II
The following short story is from my soon-to-be released short story collection The Imagination’s Provocation: Volume II. I hope you enjoy the story and I hope you’ll check out the book upon its release. (I’ll post a notification when the book is out.)
PUNCHER’S PARADISE
by Scott William Foley
I’ve got a secret to tell.
I’ve got to tell someone, otherwise I’m going to go insane. You’re the only person I can tell. Because, sure, by the time this thing is over, you’re going to know me plenty well. But, I’m never going to know you. I’ll never have to look you in the eye. I’ll never hear your words of disgust when mentioning me or suffer your righteous glances. I don’t want to know you, but I do want you to know me.
I love my wife. I adore my kids. I play the dutiful husband and the responsible father. But, truth be told, if you want in on my little secret, I hate my life.
I hate it.
My typical day consists of waking up and getting ready too early for any sane man, putting the dog out, then feeding the dog. I don’t mind this so much as I consider him—I call him Ulti-Mutt—my only true friend. I then wake up our ten-year-old, Carole, and our six-year-old, William. I get them cleaned up while my wife, Faye, takes care of Charlotte, our one-year-old. I get breakfast for the older kids before putting them on the bus for school. I next say goodbye to Faye, Charlotte, and Ulti-Mutt and head for work. I put in a full day as a negotiator for a big power company that shall remain nameless, then I leave early to take Carole to ballet and William to soccer. After that I head back to work to finish out my day and try to get caught up, and then it’s back out to pick up Carole and William. I take them home, get them cleaned up, put out Ulti-Mutt, let him back in, and commence dealing with the unwavering chaos of children.
Faye gets home about forty-five minutes after I do, under normal circumstances. She’s a patent lawyer, and her hours are not as consistent as mine. She’s in charge of dropping off and picking up Charlotte from the day-care.
By the time Faye gets home, I’ve usually prepared dinner for everyone, including Ulti-Mutt.
After that, Faye cleans up and puts Charlotte down, and I make sure the kids have their homework taken care of as well as any chores that require my tending for the night. Most of these responsibilities center around the kids.
Basically repeat this process day in and day out, except add in recitals and games, along with going in to work on the weekends, and you’ve got my life.
I remember just eleven years ago I was married to an adventurous wife who hit the night scene with me on a regular basis. Clubs, plays, concerts, musicals, museums, weekend getaways, you name it. I never had as much fun in my life as I did in those two years of marriage. Then we had our kids, and all that changed.
Including my wife.
Now, she’s basically married to her work and a mother to her children. She nurtures either one or the other at all times.
Most of her co-workers thought she wouldn’t be able to balance her work with having children, and she became determined to prove them wrong after Carole was born. At first, I didn’t mind. With Faye always focused on either Carole or the work she obsessively brought home, it gave me some free time to catch up on hobbies of my own. I wanted to take up fly-fishing, but that put me away from the house too much, so I went back to my childhood pastime, model trains. Half our basement metamorphosed into one giant landscape with papier-mâché hills, valleys, and railroad tracks. The east side even had a little town I’d erected. For the first few years, it was fun. After we got Carole settled in for the evening, Faye would start working on her things, lasting far into the night, and so I’d head for the basement to do my thing.
After a while, however, I missed the companionship our marriage had once offered. We tried to sort it out; we began scheduling “date nights.” Long gone were the days of impulsive passion and lovemaking, now everything had to be penciled in. The result of this new practicum was William, my only boy. He was a welcomed addition to our family, but it certainly didn’t free up any time for Faye and me to be together. Now that we were both up to our eyeballs in work and children, I could no longer stay late at the office. I had to meet the needs of Carole while Faye dealt with William.
And, as though we hadn’t learned our lesson, those last thirty seconds of spare time were too much of a burden, and so we brought Charlotte into the world. We were actually relieved; it had reached the point where we were going to have to act as husband and wife again rather than as the mother and father of a newborn who required constant care and attention.
So, I am currently a full-time caregiver, and I happen to share a bed with my co-full-time caregiver.
I miss the old days.
And, again, while I love my wife and kids, I hate my life.
I know that sounds harsh, cold, and contradictory. Well, guess what? I’m that messed up. I’d be willing to bet hard cash I’m not the only one, either.
Can I tell my wife any of this? Are you kidding? She would immediately think I wanted a divorce and freak out. I learned long ago there are certain things I just can’t talk to her about unless I want to send her into a breakdown. Can I tell any of my friends? Well, I could tell my one friend, but I doubt he’d have much to say on the matter, seeing as how he still enjoys licking his own butt from time to time.
I guess that leaves you, doesn’t it?
I don’t know you. If I did, I might like you, I might not. But we’ll never know, will we? I just need to tell my story. One way or another, it’s coming out. If you don’t want to hear it, close the book. Nobody’s got a gun to your head, do they? If you want to find out just how messed up I really am, keep reading. Makes no difference to me.
Anyway, my name’s Cass Morgan. Cass is short for Cassius. My parents were really into Shakespeare. I don’t know why they chose that name. He wasn’t exactly an inspiring character, as I recall. Whatever. Faye and I were much kinder. Although people think we chose far too formal names for our children, there was a purpose behind it. Charlotte is my mother’s name, and Carole and William are Faye’s parents’ names.
I’m thirty-eight, Faye’s thirty-seven. We met in a political science class at Eastern Illinois University. I was nineteen at the time; she was eighteen. We got to know each other, started hanging out. We were just friends at first. It wasn’t unusual for us to hook up after partying. We never formally called each other boyfriend or girlfriend, but I would have gone along with such a thing in a heartbeat. She was one of the coolest girls I had ever known, brilliant in discussion and wild in the sack.
Unfortunately, Faye eventually met some guy her senior year who wound up going to the same law school she chose to attend. I heard less and less from her until we eventually broke off all contact.
Then one day, years later, when I was twenty-six and living in Chicago, I got a telephone call from her. She told me she had called my mom to get my number, that she’d been missing me. I was floored! Turned out she lived in Chicago also, so we made plans to meet for a drink after work one day.
We’ve been together ever since.
But, she’s not the same Faye anymore, and I’m not the same Cass. Now we’re a lawyer and a negotiator who happen to have three children to bring up. All aspects of our personal selves are gone.
Is this normal? Does this happen to everyone? I just don’t know. We long ago lost contact with our friends, most of whom remained childless. I don’t know what other parents go through. I’m selfish; I know I’m selfish. I want my old wife back, the one who’d stay out late at a jazz bar drinking martinis with me. I know I’m selfish, but aren’t we all?
I love my wife and kids.
I hate my life.
Every year, I have to go to a conference for my company. It happens to be Vegas this year. Last year it was New York City. The year before that, Tampa Bay. I love these excursions. It’s what keeps me going. I go with several of the other negotiators, whoever they happen to be that year. We all pretend we’re old friends, gambling and drinking together like a bunch of frat boys back in college.
This time three of them weren’t much more than frat boys in college, actually, and one of them was a man who had lost his wife to a rare heart disease years ago. Then there was me, the only dad in the crew, just trying to forget about the prison he called home.
The guys all call me “Puncher” because whenever anyone at work asks me how I’m doing, I always return with, “Punchin’ the time clock.” Truth is, I work on salary, I haven’t punched a time clock since I worked for recreation services back in college. They all think it has something to do with work and the stresses thereof. But, since I’m being so honest about everything with you, when I say that little phrase of mine, it’s a reference to how I always have to be somewhere, doing something, in regards to my home life. There’s always, and I mean always, something that needs to be done.
Dinners to cook, groceries to buy, clothes to wash, a lawn to care for, things to fix, errands to run, and on, and on, and on.
But, in Vegas, none of that existed.
We went to a few meetings, we hobnobbed with some VIPs, and then the rest of the day and night was ours.
Our first night there, Thursday, the guys and I decided to eat at the hotel restaurant and then hit the casinos. I’d love to give you a play by play of how the evening went, but I lost four hundred dollars, and that about sums it up.
I’d like to catch you up on what happened the second night.
The guys and I, and again, we’re not really friends so much as accomplices, raided the casino in the early evening. This time, I was up eight hundred dollars. Pretty hard to feel bad about that, huh? Best of all? I could keep playing if I wanted. No obligations, no schedules, no pick-ups or drop-offs to worry about.
It got to be about eight at night when I asked the guys if they wanted to go across the street with me and grab a drink. They’d all been having bad luck, so they instantly agreed. I’d had the bad luck yesterday. When I woke up this morning, though, I knew my luck would change.
Tonight was supposed to be my lucky night.
We headed across the street. It’d been about a year since I had a drink and I’d forgotten how much I occasionally enjoyed it. I started off with a Manhattan, then had a Cosmopolitan, and I was in the middle of a Whisky Sour when a strange woman approached me around nine o’clock.
She was tall, had long dark hair, wore black-rimmed glasses, and appeared a nice mix between quite pale and slightly tanned. I could only assume, judging by her clothes, she was a businesswoman of some sort, perhaps there for a conference as well. Although her skirt went almost down to her knees, it fit her leanness and made her all the more sensual.
“Hi,” she said.
I put down my Whiskey Sour and replied, “Hi.”
She started giggling before she flirted, “You come here often?”
“No, I’m here on business, in fact. You?”
“Same.” She paused to look me over from head to toe. She then grinned seductively, “Where you from?”
“Chicago,” I answered promptly. “How about you?”
There she paused for a moment, looking slightly caught off guard. It was as though she didn’t know how to answer. I saw her blue eyes dart back and forth, and then she replied, “Tampa Bay. You know, in Florida.”
“Right, I’ve been there on business.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it?”
She took a step and a half closer to me so I could practically feel the heat coming off her breasts. Her perfume was intoxicating. I could feel my head swoosh after the sweet scent of her body mixed with the drinks I’d had. It was euphoric.
“What’s your name?” she asked me, her face so close I could feel her breath against my chin.
“Cass.”
“That’s an interesting name.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m Faye.”
Imagine my surprise.
“You don’t say.”
“Buy me a drink?” she asked.
I glanced over at the guys standing several paces off from me. They’d seen me talking with a beautiful woman and had decided to give me some space. They knew I was married, but my actions didn’t seem to bother them whatsoever. I think I had friends at some point in my life who would have stopped me from doing something like that, but those days are long gone.
After all, these were just co-workers. They hadn’t met my wife, who also happened to be named Faye. They didn’t even know what she looked like. Of course, I keep a picture of her and the kids on my desk, but no one ever takes the time to look at things like that. That would require a degree of caring that doesn’t exist in the workplace any longer, if it ever has.
I love my wife. I love my kids. Of course I keep a picture of them on my desk. I hate my life.
I kept turning until I faced the bartender. He was a middle-aged guy with thinning hair and a potbelly. He looked like he’d been doing this for a long time, if the bags under his eyes were any indication. Of course, I have matching bags, so I don’t know why I’m picking on him. I also have a nice little belly of my own. Hey, at least I still had a full head of hair; that’s something, right?
I ordered her drink: “Dry martini.”
“My favorite,” Faye approved over the loud music, blowing her sumptuously warm breath into my ear. “How’d you know?”
“Gut instinct,” I returned, meeting her lustful gaze with my own.
She grinned even wider.
Hours passed, as did many drinks. My co-workers eventually headed back to the casino to lose what little money they had left, hoping to finally get lucky. Way I saw it, I was about to get lucky without taking any sort of chance at all.
I paid my tab to the bartender with Faye standing behind me, her hand riding up the inseam of my pants. Needless to say, I told him to keep the change.
In a slightly drunken stupor, we trotted across the busy street and into my hotel, which was right above the casino wherein my associates were losing a month’s salary.
I didn’t even bother to turn on the lights when we burst into the room and started peeling off clothing. I wasn’t surprised to find Faye wearing a rather provocative piece of lingerie beneath her business clothes. I had a distinct feeling she’d been planning on this little escapade.
We fell into the king bed, clutching each other in our arms, and I spent the rest of the night in paradise.
The next morning, I awoke to find my bed empty, save for the lingerie Faye had been wearing strewn about and a few dark hairs that had come loose upon the pillows in the night’s melee.
I got up to take a whiz and found a note on the bathroom counter. It said simply, “See you next year. Love, Faye.” She even went so far as to press her newly painted lips against it. I cleaned up and met the guys in the lobby. We had one more meeting to attend before we could head home.
“Hot little number last night, Cass,” one of them said to me.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I replied smugly.
“Score?” one of the younger guys asked outright.
“Yep,” I answered.
They all started giving me high fives and fist knocks, telling me my secret was safe with them. I told them I did this every year, no matter what city the annual conference happened to be in, and they could feel free to tell anyone they wanted.
I’d done nothing wrong.
I love my wife. I love my kids.
I hate my life.
That’s the only secret I have. That’s the only thing I feel ashamed of that I’m sharing with you. By all accounts, I’ve got everything a man could want. Great wife, awesome kids, a well-paying job, and the most loyal dog a man could ever dream of. But, it’s the constant and mundane madness of it all that drives me crazy.
What’s wrong with spicing things up every once in a while?
We finished our last, tedious meeting, then hopped a shuttle to the airport. Seeing as it was Saturday and I’d been away from my kids for a few days, I opted to avoid the pile of papers that never stopped multiplying at the office, and headed straight home.
I was excited to see Faye, after all.
When I walked through the door, I dropped my bags and looked for the kids to come running down the stairs or out of the TV room to greet me. The only one that bothered was Ulti-Mutt. He knew enough not to bark anymore; after Carole was born, he’d been scolded enough after waking her on several occasions to be properly conditioned against such outbursts. He did, however, wag his tail madly and suck in and blow out air to the point I thought he might hyperventilate.
I patted, rubbed, and petted him sufficiently as to appease my only pal and then went about the house searching for my family.
Complain as I do, I don’t really hate my life. That’s another secret for you. I told you I was messed up, didn’t I?
When I go on those little trips, I realize that the alternative of not having Faye, Carole, William, Charlotte, and Ulti-Mutt would prove unbearable. I hate the constant chaos of my life, but I love my wife and kids. I wouldn’t trade my life for anything, as much as I sometimes get annoyed with it.
After all, everything in this house is my paradise.
I’d be a fool to ever give it up.
I picked up my bags and headed up to the bedroom only to find my wife on our king, toiling, as usual, on some paperwork. As soon as I entered she set all of her work on the floor, then sat up on her knees.
“Hi, stranger.”
“Hi, baby.”
“Good trip in Vegas?” she asked.
“Very good,” I said with a smile.
“You didn’t screw any women out there, did you?”
“Just one,” I replied.
I removed her black-rimmed glasses so I could see those beautiful blue eyes of hers, then pulled her dark hair loose from its ponytail.
“Where are the kids?”
“Charlotte just went down for the night, and Carole and William are both at slumber parties.”
“You don’t say,” I mumbled as I pulled her shirt off.
“Hey,” she began, “you didn’t happen to grab my lingerie did you? I think I left them in the room.”
“Yeah, I got them,” I answered.
And then we revisited paradise once more.
Actually, twice more, and then we woke up Charlotte. This was shortly followed by a call from William, who’d gotten scared and wanted to come home.
The chaos resumed.
Paradise.
“Puncher’s Paradise” from The Imagination’s Provocation: Volume II Copyright © 2006 Scott William Foley. All rights reserved.
(7-29-06) BIG THANKS TO KRISTEN, CONNIE, AND PAM
I’m getting ready to return the final galley to my publisher for my latest work, the short story collection The Imagination’s Provocation: Volume II. I wanted to thank my wife, Kristen for patiently and lovingly reading draft after draft for what felt like, I’m sure, an eternity over the last year. I also wanted to thank my mother, Connie, who took time out of her busy schedule to read a draft as well. Finally, I’d like to thank our friend Pam, who offered a third pair of eyes in the final galley process to ensure quality control, and despite the fact I told her I would need it back within the week, she agreed!
I can’t thank these wonderful ladies enough and I’m very blessed to have such people in my life. Big thanks to Kristen, Connie, and Pam!
(7-20-06) THE GALLEYS ARE IN
I just got my galleys in today for my third book, the short story collection The Imagination’s Provocation: Volume II. I’ll begin the zillionth and final edit, send them back to the publisher, and if all goes well, it’ll be released by the top of next month!
(7-13-06) I FINALLY FOUND MYSPACE Hey everyone, it’s official, I am the last person to start up a MySpace account. Here’s my space at MySpace: www.myspace.com/scottwilliamfoley
(7-12-06) SUMMER PROJECTS This summer I’ve been working on several new short stories that I hope to have published through traditional means. I’ve also been spending a great deal of time revising a novella that I started last summer, and yes, its title is still top secret! Finally, my latest short story collection, The Imagination’s Provocation: Volume II, should be released by the end of the month.
(7-2-06) WEBSITE CHANGES You may have noticed some distinct changes with my website. We’ve converted the format of the site slightly so that it no longer has the blog properties the former site utilized. Please be patient as this site is updated with previous material. As always, thanks for stopping by!
