Author: kenwheaton

After-Action Report: Louisiana Book Fest and ULL Reading

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After reading a post this morning by Darrelyn Saloom in which she revealed that she’d signed a book deal (CONGRATS!) — a result of time spent at the 2011 Louisiana Book Festival — it occurred to me I hadn’t written a follow-up post to my time down there trying to pimp out The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival (Yes! It’s still for sale!).

2011 Louisiana Book Festival, Baton Rouge

One reason I didn’t write — aside from laziness — is that I didn’t want to ruin the picture I know you all have of me jet-setting around the country, arriving in limousines and reading to packed rooms. C’mon. I know that’s how you picture these things. And the reality was, my reading/panel with Lou Dischler was attended by a total of maybe 10 people — four of which who were related to me, one of which was Lou’s mom, and another of which was my good friend Jason’s mom. Thank god for moms. At first I blamed this on the fact that we’d been scheduled at 3:30 and stuck out in the hinterlands of the Welcome Center when almost all of the foot traffic was in the State Capitol. But I’d gone to an earlier panel in the State Capitol featuring Roy Blunt and James Wilcox and there were perhaps 20 people in that room. And I’d heard that other readings in the Capitol building were as thin as ours.

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Adele’s “Restraining Order No. 9”

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I love me some Adele. Great voice, great songs. But can we talk about “Someone Like You,” or as I like to call it, “The Stalker Song.” It’s catchy, it’s haunting, it’s got the following lyrics:

“I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited
But I couldn’t stay away, I couldn’t fight it
I had hoped that you would see my face and that you’d be reminded
That for me, it isn’t over”

Now, even if I were single and this was simply an ex-girlfriend showing up on my doorstep, I’d be tempted to call the damn police. But in the context of the song, the dude is married. MARRIED.

Man or woman, imagine that you’re at home and your ex showed up at your door uninvited and said, “Hey, I just couldn’t help it. I had this really fucked up, crazy urge to show up and remind you that, in my mind, we’re still the perfect couple.” I bet you can imagine how your spouse would react — or how you would react if you were the spouse.

Blah, blah, blah. Love. Heart-ache. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I get it. Pain lingers. And, especially when you’re the one who’s been dumped and haven’t found your own someone yet, you can remember that last relationship all through a hazy nostalgia in which everything seemed perfect (though it wasn’t). And even years later, you can be struck by an uncontrollable urge to go seek this person out at home, in a bar, on Facebook and say something like, “I STILL LOVE YOU” or “WE WERE MEANT TO BE.”

But you know what? You are not five years old. You are a grown-ass person and you should be able to control your urges. Especially ones as stupid as these. If you can’t do it for your own dignity, do it for this person who you supposedly love and who, trust me, will not give you a second chance and does not need your crazy ass showing up on the doorstep uninvited.

(Last week, I drove over 1,000 miles while in Louisiana, most of it listening to pop radio, so I may have some more over-thinking on the six songs I heard over and over and over again.)

It Really Makes You Think …

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This morning, while in the shower washing my hair, I wondered to myself, “Why do we always wash our hair before dealing with the rest of our bodies? Who decided that? Was there a meeting?”

Then more questions: ‘HOW DO I KNOW EVERYONE ELSE WASHES THEIR HAIR BEFORE MOVING ON! WHAT IF I’M THE ONLY ONE? WHAT IF I’VE BEEN DOING IT WRONG THIS WHOLE TIME?”

It’s because of exactly this sort of thinking that I’m tempted to limit showers to once a month.

See Ken Read at The Louisiana Book Festival

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Do you live in or around Baton Rouge? Yes? What are you doing Saturday, Oct. 29? Not a damn thing, that’s what. Because LSU has a bye-week. So instead of sitting around the house fantasizing about strangling Nick Saban with your bare hands, head on out to the Louisiana Book Festival. I’ll be there! Talking (still) about The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival. (I swear to you there are others in the works.)

Specifically, I’ll be joining Lou Dischler, author of the really damn awesome My Only Sunshine, for the following discussion:

Mining Cajun Country for Comedy
2:45 PM – 3:30 PM
Capitol Welcome Center, Glass Room

This will be followed by a book signing from 3:45 to 4:30 p.m. at the Barnes & Noble tent.

Obviously, it’s not just us. My home-boy Luis Alberto Urrea will be there (sadly, reading at the same time as me). And a couple of my literary heroes as well, James Wilcox (for writing straight-up craziness set in Louisiana) and James Ed Bradley (for showing that an Opelousas boy can get books published).

Schedule and other information can be found here.

BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!!

What are you doing the following weekend? I’ll tell you what you’re doing. You’re going to be freaking out about the LSU-Alabama game, that’s what. But on the off chance you aren’t, there is a Mini Book Festival at ULL — or as it was called when I went there, USL.

There will be readings Friday and Saturday night at 7:30, as well as a panel on publishing on Saturday afternoon at 2 p.m.

Guess what’s got two thumbs and is reading on Saturday night! This guy.

Actual conversation:

Me: I’m reading on Saturday night.
Mom: What?
Me: Saturday.
Mom: What time?
Me: 7:30
Mom: Well I’m not going.
Me: Didn’t think so.

(Hey, lay off. The woman’s read the book 18 times, sat through two readings and is driving all the way to Baton Rouge for the Louisiana Book Festival. That’s plenty)

At any rate, all readings will be held in HL Griffin Hall, Room 315.

FRIDAY readers: Chantel Langlinais, Nate Pritts, Rhonda dean Robison, Wynn Yarbrough
SATURDAY panel on publishing: Nate Pritts, Ken Wheaton, Micah Ballard, Sunnylyn Thibodeaux
SATURDAY readers: Rob Carney, Ken Wheaton, April Fallon, Micah Ballard, Sunnylyn Thibodeaux

So come on out. It’ll be great to see you.

Also: Sorry if I’m not showing enough respect to the UL Ragin Cajun football schedule. Geaux Cajuns!

Dear 60 Minutes, Please Hire Me

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To Morley Safer and the Gang,
It’s come to my attention that national treasure Andy Rooney is retiring from your fine program. I understand that you’re all reeling from the shock and the pain, but I’d like to suggest a replacement — me — that could move right in to the slot with as little disruption as possible. After all, with a cast as old as yours sudden movements and drastic changes could lead to one or more of you going all Grandpa Simpson during a show and no one wants that.
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2:02:02

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This past Saturday I ran the Hamptons Half Marathon for the second year in a row with TNT. This year I raised more money, which was sweet. But this year I ran the damn thing 12 minutes slower than last year, which was not sweet.

Going into the weekend, the forecast according to Accuweather went like this: Shitty with an increasing chance of shitty at the start of race. It wasn’t just that it was going to rain, it was that it was going to be warm for a race — 70 degrees or so — and likely humid.

Well, we lucked out on the rain.
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Shrimp Po-Boy: You’re Doing It Wrong

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Three months in New York, and Cara’s been jonesing for a shrimp poboy. It’s not something I’ve ever attempted to make — not a big fan of frying in small New York apartments — and I warned her repeatedly that to seek out such a thing in New York will lead only to disappointment and anger, a frustration borne out of the human ability to get something so easy so wrong.

But a craving is a craving.
Continue reading “Shrimp Po-Boy: You’re Doing It Wrong” →