Wodehouse Quotes

1. I was feeling like a badly wrapped brown-paper parcel.
2. She was rather like one of those innocent-tasting American drinks which creep imperceptibly into your system so that, before you know what you're doing, you're starting out to reform the world by force if necessary and pausing on your way to tell the large man in the corner that, if he looks at you like that, you will knock his head off.
3. I was so darned sorry for poor old Corky that I hadn't the heart to touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself.
4. She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing arm-chairs tight about the hips that season.
5. Lady Malvern tried to freeze him with a look, but you can't do that sort of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof.
6. [Regarding to Jeeves objecting to his moustache.] It seemed to me that it was getting a bit too thick if he was going to edit my face as well as my costume.
7. I’m not much of a ladies’ man, but on this particular morning it seemed to me that what I really wanted was some charming girl to buzz up and ask me to save her from assassins or something.
8. He lugged them out of the drawer as if he were a vegetarian fishing a caterpillar out of the salad.
9. . . . he always looked like something that had been dug up by the roots.
10. Something bumped into the Wooster waistcoat just around the third button, and I collapsed on to the settee and rather lost interest in things for the moment.
11. I knew that young Bingo, when in form, could fall in love with practically anything of the other sex; but this time I couldn’t see any excuse for him at all.
12. On the occasions when Aunt is calling to Aunt like mastodons bellowing across primeval swamps . . .
13. I was feeling more or less like something the Pure Food Committee had rejected.
14. It was my Uncle George who discovered that alcohol was a food well in advance of modern medical thought.
15. He got after me with a hunting crop just at the moment when I was beginning to realize that what I wanted most on earth was solitude and repose, and chased me more than a mile across difficult country.
16. It was one of those still evenings you get in the summer, when you can hear a snail clear its throat a mile away.
17. He came in looking as if nothing had happened or was ever going to happen.
18. “But lots of folks have asked me who my tailor is.” “Doubtless to avoid him, sir.”
19. I have never been in the West Indies but I am in the position to state that in certain of the fundamentals of life they are streets ahead of our European civilization. The man behind the counter, as kindly a bloke as I ever wish to meet, seemed to guess our requirements the moment we hove in view. Scarcely had our elbows touched the wood before he was leaping to and fro, bringing down a new bottle with each leap. A planter, apparently, does not consider he has had a drink unless it contains at least seven ingredients, and I’m not saying, mind you, that he isn’t right. The man behind the bar told us the things were called Green Swizzles, and, if I ever marry and have a son, Green Swizzle Wooster is the name that will go down on the register, in memory of the day his father’s life was saved at Wembley.
20. “We must think, sir.” “You think. I haven’t the machinery.”
21. It is a nasty thing to see this bald and bushy bloke advancing on you when you haven’t prepared the strategic railroads in your rear.
22. “I fear,” Jeeves sighed, “that when it comes to a matter of cooks, ladies have but a rudimentary sense of morality.”
23. “I had no idea young girls were such demons.” “More deadly than the male, sir.”
24. For when it is a question of a pal being in the soup, we Woosters no longer think of self; that poor old Bingo was knee-deep in the bisque was made plain by his mere appearance – which was that of a cat which has just bee struck by a half-brick and is expecting another shortly.
25. “Unless right-thinking people take strong steps through the proper channels, my name will be mud.”
26. The going was sticky and took about eight and elevenpence off the value of my Sure-Grip tennis shoes in the first two yards.
27. There was a hissing noise like a tyre bursting in a nest of cobras.
28. The Right Hon. was a tubby little chap who looked as if he had been poured into his clothes and had forgotten to say ‘When!’
29. I didn’t like his collar, and Jeeves would have had a thing or two to say about the sit of his trousers; but nevertheless, he was authoritative.
30. He withdrew, leaving a gap in the atmosphere about ten feet by six.
31. Now, setting a booby-trap for a respectable citizen like a head master (even of an inferior school to your own) is not a matter to be approached lightly and without careful preparation. I don’t suppose I’ve ever selected a lunch with more thought than I did that day. And after a nicely-balanced meal, preceded by a couple of dry Martinis, washed down with a half a bot. of nice light, dry champagne, and followed by a spot of brandy, I could have set a booby-trap for a bishop.
32. . . . a laugh like waves breaking on a stern and rock-bound coast.
33. . . . rather like when you take one of those express elevators in New York at the top of the building and discover, on reaching the twenty-seventh floor, that you have carelessly left all your insides up on the thirty-second, and it’s too late now to stop and fetch them back.
34. In one second, without any previous training or upbringing, he had become the wettest man in Worcestershire.
35. The brow was furrowed, the eye lacked that hearty sparkle, and the general bearing and demeanour were those of a body discovered after being several days in the water.
36. One of the first lessons life teaches us is that on these occasions of back-chat between the delicately-nurtured a man should retire into the offing, curl up in a ball, and imitate the prudent tactics of the opossum, which, when danger is in the air, pretends to be dead, frequently going to the length of hanging out crepe and instructing its friends to stand round and say what a pity it all is.
37. I sauntered along the passage, whistling carelessly, and there on the mat was Aunt Agatha. Herself. Not a picture.
38. “Remember what the poet Shakespeare said, Jeeves.” “What was that, sir?” “’Exit hurriedly, pursued by bear.’ You’ll find it in one of his plays. I remember drawing a picture of it on the side of the page, when I was at school.”
39. He was so crusted with alluvial deposits that one realized how little a mere bath would ever be able to effect. To fit him to take his place once more in polite society, he would certainly have to be sent to the cleaner’s. Indeed, it was a moot point whether it wouldn’t be simpler just to throw him away.
40. My Aunt Agatha, the one who chews broken bottles and kills rats with her teeth . . .
41. “I follow you, yes,” I said, a little dubiously. “What you have in mind is something on the lines of Mary’s lamb. I don’t know if you happen to know the poem – I used to recite it as a child – but, broadly, the nub was that Mary had a little lamb with fleece as white as snow, and everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go. You want me to model my technique on that of Mary’s lamb?”
42. I was thinking that if God wasn’t in His heaven and all right with the world, these conditions prevailed as near as made no matter.
43. I’ve often wondered about that scarlet woman. Was she scarlet all over, or was it just her that her face was red?
44. Considerations like these prevent one feasting the eye on Tudor architecture with genuine enjoyment and take from fifty to sixty percent off the entertainment value of spreading lawns and gay flower-beds.
45. Many a fellow who looks like the dominant male and has himself photographed smoking a pipe curls up like carbon paper when confronted with one of these relatives.

Want to get published?

Occasionally someone will ask me about how to get published. Here's what I say.

First off, I recommend self publishing. Here are a few good articles about why.

• Hugh Howey: Self-publishing is the future — and great for writers
• Hugh Howey calls for author earnings revolution

And here’s a recent report analyzing the Amazon revenue for various publishing approaches.

If you decide to self-publish, everything you need to know to get started is in this book.

• Self-Publishing Attack! The 5 Absolutely Unbreakable Laws for Creating Steady Income Publishing Your Own Books

If you decide to go traditional, there are hundreds of books and articles on the subject. Here’s a good one.

• Start Here: How to Get Your Book Published

My path to getting traditionally published won’t help, because an editor called me when I wasn’t trying to get published.

As far as developing content going forward, find a compatible critique group. If you're in the Austin, TX area, this is a good one that meets on second and fourth Sundays from 1:30 to 3:30. We always welcome new members.

• Novel In Progress

Subtext

There's been some discussion of subtext among my fellow writers. I'm speaking in terms of the second definition from Collins English Dictionary.

subtext, n
1. an underlying theme in a piece of writing
2. a message which is not stated directly but can be inferred

I ran across an excellent example while watching Inspector Morse. Here's the setup:

Mary married Trevor, the oldest son in a wealthy, traditional family. Mary has been having an affair with her husband's younger brother, Steven. A few days after Trevor's murder, Betty, her sister-in-law, shows up at Mary’s house. Mary answers the door. They are both the outsiders in the family.

Betty: I thought about phoning but then I thought, well, that was the easy way, so . . . here I am.
Mary: Do you want to come in?
Betty: How are you bearing up?
Mary: Alright. Don’t think it’s sunk in, yet.
Betty: Family rallying around?
Mary: Yes, everyone’s been very kind.
Betty: Good. If Stephen and I can do anything to help, then you will let us know, won’t you?
Mary: Thanks. You’re very kind.
Betty: We wouldn't want you to be alone, unless of course you prefer it. One of us could stay with you if you like.
Mary: No. No, that won’t be necessary.
Betty: You sure you don’t want me to send Steven round. I mean he could sleep on the sofa or something. Just until you've over the worst of it.
Mary: I wouldn't dream of imposing on him. He’s got enough on his plate as it is.
Betty: He wouldn't mind. He can sleep anywhere. It makes no difference to him. Shall I lend him to you for a while?
Mary: Dangerous. I might want to keep him.
Betty: I don’t think so. He is very unreliable, you know. A lot of unexplained absences.

The solution is left as an exercise to the reader.

Dear Mr. Whittington

Dear Mr. Whittington,

I have been reading your book Welcome to Fred aloud to my children at night. Sometimes, I take it in the truck with us to read aloud as my husband drives us around town. (Sometimes we drive around to get the baby to sleep, other times to soothe the grown ups.) Most of the time, I sit in the hallway between the children's bedrooms and read to them as they settle in for sleep.

I chose your book because my oldest son has just turned 14 and I thought he would appreciate the point of view afforded by someone around his age and stage in life. The younger two are not far behind in age and they all loved The Wonder Years. I figured this would be a light-hearted way to introduce a variety of subjects that they might have on their mind but not know how to bring up. Also, I am a preacher's kid myself and I thought it might be nice to help them understand what is wrong with their momma. :)

I just wanted you to know that there has been a lot of laughter and good conversation. The-10 year-old has taken to saying "Bingo was his name-o!" as if it was his very own idea.

And I wanted to thank you for last night.

You see, three days ago we buried a friend of ours. He was killed suddenly in an accident at work. (Electrician) His name was Donald and he was a very good guy. He could always be spotted around the ball field with a great big smile. He was a friend to my kids but also to everyone he met. He always had a cooler full of Gatorade or ice water to give out to the kids who were running around the park all hot and thirsty. And a pocket full of bubble gum too. He was only 42. He left behind a teenage son, friend and teammate to my 14 year old.

It has been a sad week at our house.

Last night we landed in Chapter 15 where "Old MacDONALD" was in a tragic accident, and the town of Fred buried two people whose time was up too soon, and Sonia's feelings mirrored many of the same ones we've been taking turns with around here this week.

I wanted to tell you about how the kids were drawing out as much from the chapter as they could to relate to their own pain. How they moved from lying in prone and supine positions to perched on the edges of their beds Indian style, leaning toward the hall to hear better, asking me to read a part again, looking for more connections than existed. ("Mom, what was the day of the week Mr. Donald died again?")

I will admit, I had to stop and compose myself a few times in order to keep reading without a trace of tears in my voice. And then, from his fictional pulpit, Pastor Cloud spoke real words of comfort and understanding to a couple of real-life kids in their bed. Like in The NeverEnding Story where the ChildLike Empress begins to speak to Bastian.

Anyway, thanks for the timely words.
~jc

The Postcards from Fred playlist

All of the Fred books are full of references to music. For your dining and dancing pleasure, take a stroll past the Postcards from Fred playlist, a YouTube playlist of all the songs mentioned in the upcoming novel, Postcards from Fred.

Keep in mind that not all the songs are mentioned in the book in a favorable light. I tried to place the more annoying songs at the end of the list, but YMMV.

Cover for Postcards from Fred

In case you haven't heard, there's a new Fred book on the way, and once again Amanda has created a great cover. Here's the final cover for Postcards from Fred, coming out in October. Click to see it full size.

Here's the book description:

Ever wonder what would Jesus do? On a date?

It’s been a bad weekend. Mark Cloud’s dreams of romantic bliss have been cruelly obliterated, and his friendship with the local moonshiner has drawn unwelcome attention from the local Pharisee, Deacon Fry.

Then two girls enter his life: one a lovely and sold-out-for-Jesus preacher’s kid who just might be The One for him, the other a prodigal wild-child who just might give Deacon Fry the ammunition he needs to rid himself of this troublesome pastor and his vexing family.

Mark’s romantic aspirations and his vow to fly under the church-politics radar crash into his vow to live his life asking the seductive but inconvenient question: What Would Jesus Do? His response will determine not only his dating life but possibly the future of his father’s career.

Sign up for the newsletter to get notified when it's available, and also to get sneak peeks and freebies. The next issue goes out next week with freebies for the insiders.

The Great Gig in the Sky

This is what happens when you're trying to sneak up on a writing session. You know it's going to take a deep dive, a full plunge into the zone, and even though it's the thing you really want to do, you're dreading the energy it will take to get there. So you futz around reading your RSS feeds and such.

"The Great Gig in the Sky" is one of my favorite tunes, one of the few that can bring tears to my eyes. Because I'm not much of a fan-geek, I never knew the background of the tune. Turns out the vocal melody was completely improvised by Clare Torry, a singer they hired to come in and sing something over the track they had recorded. I had always assumed that the basic melody had been written, not made up on the spot while recording.

As a teen I was blown away by Dark Side of the Moon as an album, and "The Great Gig in the Sky" was the crown jewel for me. I played it for my Mom and she said, "How can you listen to all that screaming? That's not music." [Ed 10/7/2013: This just in from Mom. Her opinion remains unchanged 40 years later.]

You should listen to these with a good speaker system or headphones. Laptop or smartphone speakers just aren't going to do the trick.

The studio version from Dark Side of the Moon.




The making of. Warning: The audio on this is twice as loud as all the others, so you might want to turn in down.




An interview with Clare Torry about the experience of recording it.




Here's a killer live version with three vocalists, none of which are Clare Torry.

I Dream Weird Stuff

I dreamed this new business model Thursday night. It combines pizza and home mortgages.

Let’s say you like two kinds of pizza, say pepperoni and hamburger, and you’re eating with a friend of similar tastes. Then you get pizza from my business, Shake and Twist Pizza. The slices come in rectangles just the right size to fit in the palm of your hand. You palm a slice of pepperoni, crust side to the skin. Your friend palms a slice of hamburger. And you shake hands. Now the slices are like a sandwich between your hands. You both slide your hand down to grab your end of the pizzas and twist, pulling away your half. That’s Shake and Twist pizza.

But that’s not the best part. At Shake and Twist Pizza, we will give you a micro home equity loan to pay for your pizza. Every time you order a pizza, we just add the cost of the order to the principal of your loan. Painless and tasty, too!

Yes, I dreamed that whole thing Thursday night. You want in?

Writer Critique Groups

I had three traditionally-published novels released before I ever attended a writer's critique group. It's not easy to find a critique group that knows what it's talking about and fits your personality. Fortunately, Austin is a writer's town, so it's a little easier to find a decent group than in other towns where I've lived.

If you're in the Austin area and looking for a critique group, you should check these out.

If you're looking for a good screenwriting group, Austin Writer's Workshop is one of the best. Currently meeting Monday nights at Opal Devine's at Penn Field. I attended this group for four years before I abandoned screenplays to return to novels.

I can't imagine a better novel critique group than Novel in Progress, which meets the 2nd and 4th Sunday from 1:30-3:30 at the Austin Recreation Center near 15th and Lamar. Facebook. Website.

I'll be submitting my current work in progress, a return to the Fred stories, in the coming weeks.

Writing on the Air and Endless Vacation

On Wednesday I'll be on Writing on the Air on KOOP radio at 6 pm CDT with Jeremy Grigg talking about Endless Vacation and future projects. You can listen online or on the radio at 91.7 FM.

I discovered just how long I've been working on and talking about Endless Vacation when I went back to the Writing on the Air archives looking for my previous appearances and discovered I've talked about this story with these guys since 2009. Here's a list of the other times I've been on if you'd like to give them a listen.

Dec 9, 2009: Endless Vacation and Escape from Fred (This one has some bumper music by Daniel including a rare live track from Jan 1, 2000.)

Jul 28, 2010: Endless Vacation and Muffin Man

Feb 6, 2012: Muffin Man and What Would Jesus Drink?

Rock on and check it out.