A little late to the Father's Day party

I got up this morning thinking I would do a Father's Day post, then decided I wouldn't, and now that it's almost over, decided I would.

My dad and mom were together the entire time I was growing up, which meant my dad was always living with us, but I can't say that I ever knew him. He worked several jobs and odd hours and was usually sleeping when I was at home. I tried to get to know him as an adult and found, to my disappointment, that he was a closet alcoholic.

Good thing I had my grandpa, Hansel Wetherholt. He was a stoic, stubborn, literal guy, but he was crazy about his grandkids. I feel like I was his favorite, but I'm thinking that all of the grandkids thought that. Here are a few of the things that made him so unique:

1. He was raised in a very rural area of southern Illinois in the 1920's, didn't wear shoes until he was six, started smoking cigarettes at eight, and had his tonsils removed without anesthesia. Yeah, he was a Kiddy BadAss.

2. His favorite way to spend a weekend afternoon was to sit at the patio table, smoking and listening to the Cubs games on his transistor radio. They pissed him off constantly, but he never abandoned them for the Cardinals, which is odd since he was raised closer to St. Louis than Chicago. (P.S. No one was a White Sox fan. Ever.)

3. He was super-proud of being an electrician at A.E. Staley Manufacturing and worked there for almost 50 years, but he took early retirement so he could travel with Grandma more, go fishing, and just chill.

4. When he was 63, he decided he wasn't going to smoke anymore, so after a 2-3 pack a day habit, he quit. Cold turkey. Like I said, badass.

5. When I was little, he used to take me for car rides and we always came back with a new pet. They never lasted long, because my mother (his daughter) didn't really want animals around so she'd find them a new home. Okay, I'm hoping they went to a new home. My favorite story of this is when he took me to get a kitten. Country-boy Hansel had never seen Siamese kittens before. They are skinny and look rather weak, as opposed to your average barn cat. So he bought me two, in case one died. Of course, they both thrived and swung from the curtains and drove my mom to madness.

6. When he was 65, his long history of eating high-fat foods and smoking caught up with him and he died of a heart attack. I had been to see him a couple of days previously and felt particularly good about some conversation we had shared. It was still incredibly hard.

His death changed me in a number of ways. Shortly after, I got a job offer to move from Illinois to California. I hated being in Illinois and wanted to move, but making my family sad was holding me back. It suddenly dawned on me that the natural order of life was that my parents and grandparents would die before I did - they were going to leave me stuck in this town. Unless I made the choice to get out.

Happy Father's Day, Grandpa, and thanks for everything.

Gayle's not here, Mrs. Torrance.

Gayle is back from Sacramento and will be giving a debrief sometime soon, but she is so tired, she can only refer to herself in the Third Person. To paraphrase Danny in The Shining (everyone hold up your index finger):



Here are some observations about the actual trip.

1. She should never take Red Vines on a 7-hour car ride. Even after she does not want another one, she must eat another one, and the last one tastes just like her salty tears because there are no more.

2. Singing along with Gladys (and Carole and Carly and well, you get the idea) at the top of her lungs is all well and good, but after such a long car ride and so much iPod music, her throat hurts.



3. When she is on the I-5, she can drive 75-80 miles an hour and run with the big dogs, but once she hits L.A. County, she is reduced to a whimpering pup as the Escalades and other large projectiles-on-wheels scream by her.

4. She passed a lot of Schneider National trucks on the way up and back, to the point that, as she followed the last one from the 210 to the 57, a story began forming in her head.

It involves a bad girl coming to a bad end, laying in the twisted wreckage, a vision of the Schneider National truck burning into her retina as Florence and the Machine pounds the Dog Days Are Over into the atmosphere, to join the coppery smell of blood turning sticky in the heat.

And with that, Gayle is going to turn on The Voice and turn off her brain.

The time has come...

The walrus said, to talk of many things. Of shoes and ships and ceiling wax, of - wait, no, that's not it.

The time has come to release Snoopy's memoir. You can get it on Amazon in Kindle, and in paperback on Createspace, Amazon, and (I hope within the week) Barnes & Noble or your favorite indy bookstore.

I am beyond excited about this book and I hope you try it out. I will be launching the book at the Lights, Camera, Action Horse Show in Burbank, California this weekend, and will post pictures of the event. Here's what all of the AQHA Trail Circuit Champions will win:

A signed copy of the book, some horse cookies, and a great tote from Professional's Choice. Cool, yes?

Next weekend I'll be at the Western States Horse Expo in Sacramento, where I hope to be meeting more friends and readers.

After that, there will be more games and giveaways, so stay tuned!

It's here but not here.

I've really got a gazillion things on the to-do list today, including riding, teaching, shopping, and writing, but I wanted to quickly let you know that Snoopy's book is officially launching this Thursday.

Here's a secret, though: unofficially, it's already available.

That's right. In order to ensure that people could get it on Thursday, I opened the distribution channels and downloaded the files. Barnes & Noble and Indiebound haven't put it up yet, but the Kindle and paperback versions are live on Amazon. Go ahead and get it early. I won't complain.

I'll also be running some contests soon for some cool prizes, so stay tuned.

ALSO ALSO ALSO:

Check out Michele Scott's new book, Silent Harmony. It's YA, it's about horses and a girl and paranormal and intrigue and I can't wait to read it. Get it here.

Sorry, gotta run now.

Branded.

I remember when the TV series Mork and Mindy aired in 1978. It was a sweet, gentle comedy about an egg-centric alien, played by Robin Williams, who comes to Earth.



I also remember when Robin Williams had his first large-venue comedy concert during the TV show's run.



If you weren't around, or conscious, during this period, let me give you a hint. Many, many people went to see Robin Williams expecting Mork from Ork. Many of those people brought their children.  All of those people were surprised... none of it happily.

This is what happens when you are not clear about your brand.

My buddy, Michele Scott knows her audience and has branded herself accordingly. Readers who like fun, romantic mysteries, or young adult stories, can read Michele Scott. (By the way, Silent Harmony is being released May 28. Get it!)

Readers who like dark thrillers, read A.K. Alexander.

All of her books have surprises in them, but none of them should be that a reader thought they were getting a light-hearted mystery and they got a psycho-sexual thriller instead.

This is what happens when you communicate your brand correctly.

I began life writing humor essays under my own name. Then I wrote a mystery and thought briefly about a pseudonym, but I was talked out of it. According to my publisher, if I published under another name, any payments would be made out to THAT name, which meant I'd have to jump through a bunch of legal hoops to create an alias.

My shin splints don't like it when I jump.

Now after eight years as a humor columnist, three mysteries and two books of my columns, I'm releasing something completely different with Snoopy's memoir. It has been hell trying to figure out the genre, but it's not mystery and it's not strictly humor.

Although it's "By Snoopy, as told to Gayle Carline," I did consider the pseudonym route again. (I have learned that the hoops I have to jump through are not as high as they used to be.)

I'm nervous about my brand. What if I'm diluting it?

After much thought, I made the decision to stick with who I am. Although the genres are different, I believe my style of writing - the easy, conversational, hopeful stories that come out on the page - remain the same no matter what name I assign to the cover.

Am I making the right choice? There's no way to go back and do it over to see if it works better if I call myself Abby Normal. All I can do is study my options, make my pro/con lists, and try to choose wisely.




Sorry, I just had to include this one.

How important is an author's brand to you?