More to Jersey Wines Than You Think

New Jersey wines are the Rodney Dangerfield of oenology. They get no respect. Sometimes, that’s a deserved reputation, but there are surprises. Part of the reputation comes from a historical invisibility born out of post-Prohibition politics. For years, the state allowed only one wintery for each million residents. In 1981, the laws were relaxed as consumer palates became more sophisticated.

And, I didn’t know till I studied up, wine-making in New Jersey was begun at Renault Winery in 1864. Renault, in Egg Harbor/Galloway Twsp., is still going strong, winning many medals in the New Jersey State and the Finger Lakes International competitions.

This has all come together in an article I've written by the same title as this blog. It was just published by an area newspaper, The Association Reporter and will be coming out in another adult-community publication, River Pointe. Write me if you’re interested in seeing the entire story.

No kidding. Kevin Atticks, writing in The New York Times, stated, “If you go into a wine shop and blindly grab a California wine, your chances of getting something mildly unpleasant are greater than if you pick up a wine from New Jersey.”

There’s Hope for the Next Generation

Judging the 19 entries in the local Summer Writing Contest was not only entertaining but educational as five members of the writing group I moderate went through the entries.

A surprisingly high level of achievement appeared as we tried to measure each entry against four criteria:
• Characterization: Are the characters well-rounded, developed?
• Plotting: Did the author begin, develop and end the story capably?
• Concept: Are there new ideas, strong imagination, or high levels of insight?
• Writing Ability: Does author show a good command of language?

My matrix—judging each criterion from a “1” (needs work) to a “4” (excellent)—revealed remarkable ability. Not one entry scored lower than a 10. In fact, four entries scored 15s, and three scored 14s—testimony either to the scholastic abilities or personal interests in writing of these young people.

Writing is the art form that most precisely allows a person to express his or her feelings and response to the world. Secondly, people write in order to truly communicate, to reach out in the hopes that another person will say, “Yes! I understand completely what you’re trying to say or how you interpret the world.” To have 9- to 12-year old writing at this high caliber is a joyous experience.

Of course, there were entries that seemed to be right out of a comic book or video game. These are kids! But others believed in magic. One—our first place choice—showed expression and communication in an outstanding way. It was an epistolary piece telling his absentee father that the boy would be a success in spite of the missing dad.

I wish I could’ve written like that when I was in grade school. My hat’s off to these kids. I'm looking forward to meeting them at the ice-cream-and-awards program next week.

Playing Catch-up with a Published Piece

As Uncle Wiggily used to say, “Now, where were we, boys and girls.” Summer is moving too fast for me to keep up. Anyway, I was relieved when Over My Dead Body! Published “Chain of Events” at http://www.overmydeadbody.com/giersbch.htm.

My notes show that I queried the editor in early summer last year. She told me to shoot the story over to OMDB, which I did July 1, 2009. Then I waited. And waited. I queried the status, and she explained there’d been an illness, personal problems. Then, finally, an e-mail asking whether I’d received the contract and check.

“Nooo,” I replied. “Hmmm,” she said figuratively; there’d been problems with the mail. “Perhaps it’s your name,” I offered. “Homeland Security thinks you’re a terrorist organization.” “Would you mind if I mailed it from my home, with my personal address?” “Nooo,” I answered. And even before she got my mail and I cashed the check, the story was up.

Uncle Wiggly’s advice is to have patience, children. And if you don’t know who Howard Garis’s Uncle Wiggily is, go look him up. You’ll be tested on this.

Not All Lawyers Are Like This

New York is more than the colossus on the Hudson River. It occupies its own universe, overwhelmed by hubris and unimpressed by authority. Nowhere is it more evidenced than by lawyers. Well, if not in fact, then legend.

And I contributed to their legendary hubris by writing “Day of Moving Hell,” published July 19 by Every Day Fiction, http://www.everydayfiction.com/day-of-moving-hell-by-walt-giersbach/. It dissects the relationships that try one’s soul—even my own at times. Enjoy.

Oh, and regarding estoppels. Watch what you promise someone. I had this point of law checked by a practicing lawyer.

A Brit Fighting for Seccession?

My article on Henry Morton Stanley, "An Improbable 'Indiana Jones,' is now up at Military History Online (http://www.militaryhistoryonline.com/civilwar/articles/stanleyatshiloh.aspx). The Civil War is writ large in terms of battles, strategy and politics, but its human dimension often is made clear by the events of a single man like Stanley. This struck me most about Stanley (not his real name), not an American either, who went on to become one of the leading 19th century explorers. Aren't accidental heroes the stuff of drama in any age?

Summertine, and the Livin' Is Easy

I usually write, rewrite and polish a blog until it feels right, but now myPC has crashed with all my documents, memos, pix and notes. So, let's wing it on my netbook because the summer is rolling on.

News notes: Every Day Fiction will publish "The Day of Moving Hell" on July 19. This story (link to come) was generated by hearing about a legal "estoppel." A young lawyer friend hipped me to this take on verbal contracts and I applied it to an ambulance chaser who hates hippies and artists when one gets the better of him.

Bewildering Stories will publish "Angel in My Coffee Cup" on Aug. 2. This flash piece started eight or nine months ago as a prompt on Wordtrip's "Fast Fiction Friday" challenge. Normally, I'm skeptical of inspirational stories as being as charged with false emotion as nostalgia is. They're set to play on our hardwired emotions in the way that producers of Lassie movies jerked our strings to make us laugh and cry. But, I hope you enjoy "Angel" as much as I liked writing it. If you did, ask to read my serious, literary antecedent story about Gramps and the kid that I'm still shopping around to editors.

Kicking Out the Words

A good week and it’s not over yet. Bewildering Stories accepted “Angel in My Coffee Cup” after a rewrite—and I didn’t even follow my advice about narrative hooks. (Hamlet wasn’t talking about angels when he said, “There are more things on heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” The phrase kept going through my head as my granddaughter, Morgan, sat across from me at breakfast.) Maybe my magic realism got to their flash fiction editor.

I sent my “Henry Morton Stanley at Shiloh” article off to Military History Online, but no word back. Yeah, I guess I could polish it some more, but let’s see what happens.

The Asbury Park Press invites reader book reviews. Last Sunday, they picked up mine for Stieg Larsson’s The Girl Who Played with Fire. (“…Unmasks the sanctimonious Swedish society and the murderous tendencies buried in mystery. And what a superb heroine the tattooed, dyslexic hacker Lisabeth Sander is!”)

There’s still a wealth of material for my Holling Clancy Holling blog (at http://hollingcholling.blogspot.com/) and I finished off the Web site for our writing group at the Manchester public library (http://sites.google.com/site/manchesterwriters/home).

I think I could be at Antarctica or Armpit, Ohio. as long as the party continues in my head.