Subway Gods Can Lick My . . .

9:45 a.m. Board 4 Train at Borough Hall. Head toward Manhattan.
9:50 to 10:00. Subway sits, unmoving, due to “sick passenger” at Bowling Green.
10:00 to 10:15. Subway sits, unmoving, due to “smoke conditions” at Wall Street.
10:15. Subway turned back to Brooklyn
10:20. Arrive at Borough Hall via 4 Train.
10:25. Find R Train. Take R Train to Union Square. Transfer to 6.
11:10 a.m. Arrive at work.

Because of a fucking wire!!!!

Just Great: Kid Driving Subway Train

You know, I’ve seen NYC subway operators letting family members and kids into their compartments, but never thought much of it. Until this story came out in the Daily News.

A subway rider says he got the shock of his life when he peered into the cab and saw a kid behind the controls alongside the driver.

“I saw him driving. He couldn’t have been more than 8 or 9,” said Jules Cattie, 41. “That has to be the craziest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Cattie, a lawyer who lives on the East Side, said he spotted the child after he got into the front car of a Lexington Ave. express train Sunday.

“I was just in shock,” he said. “I thought, ‘This is really dangerous.’”

The Metropolitan Transportation Authority yesterday said it has launched “a vigorous and thorough investigation” into the charge.

It would be a blatant violation of work rules if the allegation were true.

A violation of the rules? You don’t says? Thank god there’s a rule for that.

The snitch–and I think we need more snitches in this city–took a photo as well.

Early Acclaim for the Novel: Part 2

When I received the mockup of the cover for The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival, there was a blurb on the back cover from a fellow by the name of James Villas, author of Dancing in the Lowcountry. Villas had this to say about the book:

“A frustrated priest who smokes, drinks, and curses like a sailor, a loveable centenarian matriarch whose appetite for Crown Royal is matched only by her busy-body compulsion to counsel on any and all matters, a feisty flock of Cajun gals and gents who know how to get any ball rolling–all are unforgettable characters on a mission that’s not so holy and that gives new meaning to the notion of Southern Gothic. Add a carnival, the aroma of gumbo and fried turkey, and a little Zydeco dancing, and it’s easy to see why Ken Wheaton has produced a highly original yarn that is hilarious, beguiling, and, at times, warmly moving.”

Sweet. Now maybe you’re asking yourself some questions: How does this blurb thing work? How do you find these people? Why these people? Do they actually read the book before hand?

Hey, Ken, When Can I Get Your Book?

The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival Cover

Not an hour goes by without some excited fan approaches me shyly and says, “Excuse me, Mr. Wheaton, but when can I buy this ‘First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival‘ novel I’m hearing so much about?”

And then I say, “Can’t you see I’m dining on fresh champagne and old snails with intellectuals almost as smart as I? Why must you interrupt me during my repast?”

Okay. That hardly ever happens. But, to answer your question. THE OFFICIAL RELEASE DATE FOR ‘THE FIRST ANNUAL GRAND PRAIRIE RABBIT FESTIVAL‘ IS DEC. 29.

BUT WAIT. THERE’S MORE!

This gets a little tricky. I’ve been told that books show up in stores and ship from Amazon a week or two BEFORE the official release date. Which means “The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival” could be in stores or in your house before Christmas. While I think it would make an excellent gift to put under the Christmas tree, the Hanukkah bush, the Festivus pole or what have you, I can’t guarantee 100% for sure that the book will be there. And the first rule of customer service (are you listening cellphone companies and airlines?) is: Don’t lie to the damn customer!

So there you have it. Dec. 29 is the official release date.

What can you do to help? Join the Facebook group and invite all your friends to join the Facebook group. Also, if you want to pre-order on Amazon, by all means, pre-order on Amazon. A sale, as they say, is a sale.

Best RickRoll Ever

I’m not impressed by much on the web. Okay, I’m impressed by entirely too much on the web. But this is pretty damn awesome. It’s not funny necessarily. But it’s definitely rad to the power of sick.

Early Acclaim for the Novel: Part 1

Blurbs! Who doesn’t love them? I love ‘em. I have four of them for the First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival. I will reveal them — one a week starting today. Three of the blurbs are from folks who’ve written books and who were kind enough to take some time out of writing more books to read mine and say a kind word or two about it.

But I think the best way to start this off is with a quote from Helen Stephenson Pursell, the real Queen of the real Fifth Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival (or, as it was called, Festival Du Lapin).

“Ken Wheaton’s fictitious story of a real small community in Grand Prairie, Louisiana, will keep you entertained and laughing out loud! Wheaton thoroughly describes the tradition and passion for the Cajun French way of life. Strap on your waders and get ready to trudge through some of the most colorful characters in the South.”
–Helen Pursell, Fifth Annual Festival Du Lapin Queen

How’s that for keeping it real?

Now, I can’t emphasize enough that The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival is a novel — one for which I did pretty much zero research. I made it all up. And Helen’s blurb isn’t a result of me interviewing folks. Nope. Her blurb came about the old-fashioned way: Facebook.

Helen graduated Opelousas Catholic two years after I did. She was in my brother’s class. I couldn’t tell you the last time we’d talked to each other. (It was probably high school.) But, as happens on Facebook, we became friends at some point. And, as luck would have it, she was paying attention when I posted the title of the novel on the site. Which prompted her to reply, and I’m paraphrasing, “Holy crap. I was the queen of that festival.”

Which is funny. And sort of typical of where we grew up. When I told the story to my editor and agent, they replied, and again I’m paraphrasing, “Holy crap. That’s funny. And it would be cool if we got her to blurb it.”

So, there you have it. That’s how one blurb was born.

We Like the Moon!

In honor of the 40th Anniversary of the Apollo Moon Landing, I present you with this:

Sustainability Is the New Fascist

Watching the news this morning, I heard some wank going on about his project and it sounded like this. “Blah blah blah sustainability blah blah blah urban blah blah blah sustainability blah blah blah buy this.”

The word sustainability, much like the word fascist, seems to have lost all meaning due to overuse by loads of people who, having never even known the original intent of the word, throw it around as a catchall. Perhaps not coincidentally, it seems that the people who ground fascist into a meaningless pulp are the exact same people who like to use sustainability.

As far as I can tell, these are the current definitions of both words.

Fascist: someone who disagrees with my historically ignorant and vaguely progressive world view.

Sustainability: a marketing term implying something environmental; used to sell pretty much anything to green-worshippers. Please view my sustainable water bottles, my sustainable shirts, my sustainable car tires, my sustainable dog-grooming kit, my sustainable art project. (See also: organic)

God, I feel like such a fascist for writing this.

A Cajun Calls Onstar

I only made it 45 seconds into this before I was laughing hysterically.

And Now the Back Cover

Another thing I love about the cover of The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival is the copy on the back. And not just because I didn’t have to write it (I can’t tell you how much I hate doing summaries of my own work, or marketing type things for my own work.) I think Kensington nailed it, offering something that might get someone to pick up the book and staying true to my–gag me–Vision. Here it is.

Welcome to Grand Prairie, Louisiana–land of confounding accents, hard-drinking senior citizens, and charming sinners–brought to hilarious life in a bracing, heartfelt debut novel simmering with Cajun spice …

Father Steve Sibille has come home to the bayou to take charge of St. Pete’s church. Among his challenges are teenybopper altar girls, insomnia-curing confessions, and alarmingly alluring congregant Vicky Carrier. Then there’s Miss Rita, an irrepressible centenarian with a taste for whiskey, cracklins, and sticking her nose in other people’s business.

When an outsider threatens to poach Father Steve’s flock, Miss Rita suggests he fight back by staging an event that will keep St. Pete’s parishioners loyal forever. As The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival draws near, help comes from the strangest places. And while the road to the festival may be paved with good intentions–not to mention bake sales, an elephant, and the most bizarre cook-out ever–where it will lead is anyone’s guess . . .

And there are real live quotes from real live people, too. But you’ll have to wait to see those.