The Stories of Scott D. Southard

March 20, 2014

Radio Radio: Surviving My Local Radio Scene
A few months ago the CD player in my car stopped working. I put a disc in, it shoots it back out.

Yes? No! Yes? No! Yes? No!

It is like arguing with a two-year old and losing each and every freaking time.

Now, I’m not a car dude. I’m one of those kind of people that don’t see a vehicle as some kind of a mark of success, it is a tool, and, if given the option, I would drive a car until the last wheel fell off. Honestly, I just don’t care. I think the only time I have ever drooled over an automobile was when I saw an ad for the new Honda Odyssey. Not because it looked smart. No, I liked it because it came with a vacuum cleaner. With two little kids that sounded awesome! Goodbye to all those fruit snacks! I could vacuum anytime I wanted!

Every day I need to drive my son to his school, which is about a 25-minute drive. And while I would love to just listen to NPR the entire way there and back, I can’t. My six-year old hears everything and there is a lot on that I just don’t want to explain to him. For example, yesterday while getting out of the car he said, “Boy, there are a lot of wars going on, isn’t there?”

Ah… yeah… there certainly are… damn…

So, for those moments when NPR goes a little “bleak,” I’ve begun exploring the dial, switching to the local music stations. What I’ve discovered though is something akin to a time capsule.

Yes, these stations are glimpses of some other time, but where exactly those other times took place, I can’t say. (more…)
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March 13, 2014

Sunlight Breaking: A Writing Update
One of the things I have learned about myself over the last few months is that I am emotionally affected by the weather. We have been dealing with record colds here (and a snowfall that never seems to end) and it had completely warped me of any creative energy I had.

I got up feeling already tired, a little depressed, and the idea of doing anything creative always felt like a struggle.

The funny thing is, since I lived in Los Angeles for four years, you would imagine that those years would have been the best time of my life. Yeah, looking back it was a fine (and it was nice being warm everyday), but I don’t think I did anything more spectacularly then. I was writing more, sure, but I was also in a the MPW program at the University of Southern California. I had to write more!

Whatever the case, we had actual sunlight a few days ago. Wonders upon wonders! I took walks outside, breathed friendly fresh air; suddenly life seemed worth writing about again.

Okay, it’s not like I was completely stagnant during the time of the icy blahs. I was still doing my two or so blogposts a week, promoting my novels; heck, I even got a book deal for my latest novel (I’ll do a catch up below). I guess I just wasn’t feeling it… which mean I wasn’t feeling me, which looks really weird now that I wrote that.

Let’s move on. (more…)
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March 3, 2014

Learning to Share Disneyland
So last night I had a dream where I met Paul McCartney at Disneyland.

I was standing in line at the Peter Pan ride with my family, and he was standing behind me with his family and some big bodyguards. I, of course, realized at once who this was, and when a pause happened in his conversation, I politely excused myself and said thanks. Thanks for everything since his music means so much to me.

Paul was very gracious in return and we lightly talked. He asked about me and I told him about my writing and how I listen to his music a lot when I create and how it is a soundtrack around our house. He seemed to really appreciate that, especially the idea of his music inspiring other artists. I even asked him if the rumor that The Beatles were approached to be in The Jungle Book was true (I don’t remember his reply, but in many ways that is only an urban legend at this point).

It was in this moment of the dream that my wife tapped me on the shoulder and asked who I was speaking to. I turned her around, and casually introduced her to Sir Paul.

…And then my wife fainted in a very dramatic fashion.

She even made a “whoosh!” noise as she collapsed, sounding almost like air escaping a tea kettle.

Now, my wife is not the kind of person to faint for any reason (I would faint before she would faint), and it was that realization that woke me up. So I didn’t get to talk to Sir Paul anymore, or even get on the ride.

All that standing in line for nothing. (more…)
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February 24, 2014

Non-Ghost Believer
Some people don’t believe, others do, I’m somewhere in the middle but leaning heavily much more to the “no” side. Not a full-time denier but someone who believes he has reality on his side. And I can roll my eyes and yawn with the best of them.

Yes, I may watch the occasional special on a cable channel (I’m not recording them on my DVR or anything), but I would probably turn the channel after getting the gist of the ghost.

“Beheaded… yada yada… tragic lover. Got it. What else is on?”

Consider: If there were ghosts, the south would be filled to the brim with the ghosts of slaves; Germany would be unlivable because of the ghosts from the Holocaust; and every battle field (from Gettysburg to Iwo Jima) would need barriers to keep us living people out. And it would completely change the funeral home business.

I live in a house where someone died. They died in the same room I sleep in each night! Who knows, I might even sleep on the very spot that he took his fated last breath. Yet… I got nothing.

So why is it I can still be scared or hypnotized by the idea of a ghost? Heck, when I saw Paranormal Activity I was up for days, every bump was enough to wake me up fully.

“This is ridiculous, Scott,” I mumbled to myself again and again. “This is absolutely ridiculous. There is no such thing as ghosts. No such thing… What was that noise?!” (more…)
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February 10, 2014

Where My Head Is At
Randomness from the last few days…

Do both Paul and Ringo dye their hair? They are both in their 70s so the answer is probably yes. My wife also believes Ringo dyes his beard. How does one do that?

Because of the Disney film Tarzan, my kids like to run around in their underwear. I’m still working on my counter-argument to this practice because it is kind of hilarious.

I’ve locked down the Table of Contents for my new nonfiction book Me Stuff. Started with two hundred posts (I’ve done over 520 on this site total), then cut it down to 70. Now I’m ending at 30 or so.

I think Georgia font is pretty friendly. I want a friendly font for Me Stuff, one that says, “Sit down, I have a story to tell.” (more…)
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January 29, 2014

The Happy Bliss of Dentistry
I have always had a thing about dentists.

It’s not a fear, more like a slight terror fueled by judgment and pain. Let me break that down a little more.

Cavities hurt and I dislike pain so I naturally associate the pain with the person who works in the mouth. I know it is like blaming the mechanic for my car breaking down, but I do it.

The judgment? Well, sometimes I feel like dentists harshly evaluate me and how I am overseeing the management of my own mouth. Has anyone else noticed this? When they are telling you what you are doing right and what you are doing wrong, doesn’t a part of you feel like you are being lectured? Now, I can’t point to a specific moment when a finger was wagged in my direction or eyes were rolled, but I sense it. I know it is there. The hidden eye roll is always there.

Because of all of this, I had been very relaxed on my visits over much of my adult life. And sadly, over the last five years this has come back to bite me in the ass… or mouth… or something. I’m just trying to say I hate my teeth right now and there is biting and occasional pain involved with it. The biting, I mean. Argh! (more…)
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January 15, 2014

“To write or not to write.” Part two of my interview with Nancy Christie
Part two of my interview with blogger and author Nancy Christie is up on her site! (You can read part one here.) Check it out via this link!

In this segment of the interview, I dive more into my life as a writer and a reader. For example in this question I am asked which three authors I would like to have a “one-on-one” with.

The idea of meeting a hero has always been terrifying for me. For example, one of the authors I would put on the list would have been Kurt Vonnegut. But I had his home phone number for years on my desk! I am not kidding, for years. It was given to me by a friend. I just never had the courage to call him and now it is, of course, too late.

I think someone needs to sit down with William Shakespeare and get the truth on the authorship question. That interview has to happen just so we can get the discussion behind us, good or bad.

Growing up, I exchanged a few letters with Ray Bradbury. I would have loved to have spoken to him in person. He was very kind to me then.

You can read the rest of the interview here. Thank you Nancy for this chance to speak to your readers!

My latest novel, A Jane Austen Daydream, can be purchased in print ($13.46) or as an eBook for the outrageously low price of $3.99 for Kindle. You can find it on Amazon here (http://amzn.com/B00CH3HQUU).
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December 18, 2013

Losing the Grinch: When I Became a Who
I have a personal Grinch. I have never met him, but I know he is out there; and he knows I’m out there as well. We are connected, we share a history. And it is not a history I would have chosen for myself… obviously.

No one wants to be a Who

When my son (my first born) was only a month old, we stayed at my parents’ house for Christmas Eve. On Christmas Day we raced home, looking forward to sharing our first Christmas as parents of a perfect and beautiful baby.

I first realized that something was wrong when I pulled into the driveway. Something was off. The air around me was different. A sickening feeling suddenly tightened my stomach. Once I was out of the car, I quickly surmised the awful truth of the situation. I told my wife to stay in the car with the baby and the dog.

I asked her to call 9-1-1.

Our house was broken into on Christmas Eve and our first Christmas as parents was forever ruined. (more…)
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November 30, 2013

Why The Littlest Angel is the worst holiday story… ever
When The Littlest Angel by Charles Tazewell was published in 1946 it was a holiday phenomenon. This “classic” story has since been published numerous times (with many different illustrated versions); made into movies (cartoon, musical, and live action); and in the list of best-selling children stories of all time (!) it comes up in the top 20.

Heck, even holiday crooner Bing Crosby sang a song based on the plot of it!

I remember the first time I heard this story. It was at catechism. and the teacher read it to us as if she was bestowing a great holiday gift on us children. I can still see her smile. While the other kids casually sat near me with crossed legs, I remember really being bothered by the story. I couldn’t put my finger on it then, but that reaction to the tale has never gone away for me. And that day, I raised my hand for I had some questions.

My hand is still up in the air.

The fact is, after thinking about it far too much, and being haunted by it like Marley’s ghost each year, I can’t escape my problems with this narrative. I have come to the opinion that this Christmas traditional yarn is… just awful. Horrendous. Possibly the worst holiday story. Oh, God, it is just bad.

Okay, it takes a lot for a story to be a worst holiday yarn than the appalling song “The Christmas Shoes” (which for those lucky not to know is the materialistic and disturbing ditty about an ignorant child who leaves his dying mother’s bedside to go shopping, assuming that the shoes he puts on her feet will go with her soul to heaven and there impress Jesus), but The Littlest Angel does it. It does it ten times over.

Grab a cup of hot chocolate and a Christmas cookie, snuggle in by the fireplace, and let me tell you why… (more…)
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November 18, 2013

Twitter-Free: My 24 Hours Without Twitter
I have over 30,000 Twitter followers. When I began this post I had tweeted exactly 10,400 times. No more, no less. Tweet #10,401 will be the first notice that I have written this post.

I am an author on Twitter and, honestly, I don’t think Twitter has led to many book sales really from the traffic. It does generate blog views, but never more than a third of what I get on a daily basis. The rest comes from subscribers and those who just seem to check me out from time to time. So what is this hold Twitter has on me that I keep returning and why do so many follow me?

For me, personally, Twitter is an ego trip. I admit that. Beyond the amount of followers, I get a huge kick out of sharing, retweets, and likes around my articles and books. And I especially love it when someone writes to me about my books usually to say they are reading one of them or enjoy it.

The fact is though I can’t imagine having a real friendship or relationship over Twitter. There almost needs to be a new word for the relationships built on this social network; somewhere below “acquaintance” but above “name recognition.” Yeah, it’s not like Facebook where a majority of my “friends” I have actually spoken to at one point. This is more like epic literary crowdsurfing for a writer. Like I am thrown to the sea of Twitter, riding my book like a boat. And there are thousands and thousands of other writers and readers like me on the rough sea in similar boats… and now and then we will see a Fail Whale. Making us at that moment the internet equivalent of Ahab.

Well, not this day. For on this day, for the first time in two years, I have decided to take a break and document my withdraw… (more…)
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