Spring Cleaning

From the Speakers: GONE by Jack Johnson
Just Read: THEODORE BOONE, KID LAWYER by John Grisham--A very fun read. At times it was a thinly disguised manual about how courts work (directed toward kids), but I didn't mind. I certainly learned a thing or two!
Reading Now: CITY OF BONES by Cassandra Clare

Spring is here--in NC it's like 80 degrees, sunny, and the air smells like a coming summer of fun and endless possibilities. Time to change up the music station on Pandora to something springy, check out a book I can read in the sun, and open the window and let the breeze blow in while I write. Who knows, maybe it'll carry a few ideas with it.

I played baseball all my life, every spring from ages 5 to 17. There's something about these evenings, this time of year--I don't know if it's the temperature, the pressure, the position of the stars in the sky--that makes me long for those days, being out on the field, smell of fresh cut grass hovering just above the ground, mixing with sweat and leather from your glove and dirt from the side of your leg where you slid into second.

I'm 22 now, and can no longer play baseball every spring, but there's nothing I love more than revisiting the field for a catch with old teammates, or taking some cuts and laughing whenever I swing and miss, or bragging when I send one into right-center. I miss those days.

It's the paramount nostalgic feeling, writing a story about baseball. The images come back so vividly and strongly that it almost hurts. I have 13 years' worth of characters on my teams to draw from, so any story is just barely fiction. But as much as it makes me long for those days, it's a pleasure every time I write a baseball story. I wouldn't be surprised if I write one every spring for the rest of my life.