Daniel Coyle and Jim Muir

When I ordered Coyle’s The Talent Code from Amazon, I also ordered his only novel Waking Samuel. I don’t read much fiction, but as soon as I finished The Talent Code, I read this mystery, which read easily and held my interest. I also ordered Coyle’s first book which came out in 1995--Hardball: A Season in the Projects.

Since it is out of print, I ordered from one of Amazon’s second-hand book sellers. It was slow coming and arrived yesterday, and I must confess that is why I did not blog last night. I was always interested in Cabrini-Green before it was razed, and I knew I would like this nonfiction account of some volunteers who started a Little League program there. I didn’t get a chance to finish it today, but I am eager to learn the outcome of characters that Coyle has already fastened in my heart.

Tonight I went to our first 2010 Southern Illinois Writers Guild meeting. I was planning on going, but only learned yesterday that we would have Jim Muir as our speaker. I knew then that program would be good, and it was.

Jim’s columns used to appear twice weekly in The Southern Illinoisan, and I was always eager to read them. They were courageously controversial and full of passion and emotion. The Southern lost a valuable resource when it messed up and lost Jim. However, our region benefited because Jim soon started a new magazine Southern Illinois Sports Connection. Later he bought Marion Living, and now co-founded Saluki Illustrated, which appeals to Southern Illinois University Carbondale sports fans everywhere. His active mind is already considering other possible publications. This are distributed free at multiple spots around the region. You can also subscribe to Saluki Illustrated at www.salukiillustrated.com.

Jim’s life story is fascinating. Five days after his 18th birthday, he went down into one of the local coal mines and there he worked underground for 20 years. When he read the sign on the bulletin board that the mine would be closing in 60 days, he had three small children and had to scramble to find employment. He started college at Rend Lake and worked at three part-time jobs to survive.

He saw a notice that the college paper wanted writers, and for some reason he did not seem to understand, he applied with the sponsor who asked him if he had done any writing. He admitted he hadn’t but would like to try and would quit if he couldn’t do the assigned stories. That college writing was all the formal training he ever received. Although he finished his associate degree there, he never had time for any writing classes.

The college sponsor told him one day that the Benton Evening News needed a writer and suggested he try for it. Jim laughed that he was already working there as the night janitor—one of his part-time jobs. He made $7.50 an hour and was thrilled with the $75 he received each week for five nights’ labor. When he added writer to his janitorial duties, the editor posted his assignments on the cleaning closet door. For two years everyone joked that was Jim’s office. He went on up the ranks at the Benton paper becoming an editor and then onto The Southern for several years. He is also a long-time radio announcer. He produces and hosts “Talking Sports” on Saturday morning and “Sound Off” on Wednesday—both two-hour shows on Station WQRL in Benton. He does play-by-play for the Benton Rangers basketball, football and baseball.

Even though Jim exudes energy as well as friendliness, one wonders how he does it all. I suspect the secret is he has found a career and business that he obviously loves and is having a good time. He preaches that it is never too late for a writer. He was 38 when he started college and writing for the first time in his life. He was 53 when he started his first magazine, and he admitted he knew nothing about magazines. His presentation was an inspirational way for our guild to start a new year.

Going Foreward in a New Year

If you read my last blog, you may have guessed why I haven’t blogged on time. Yes, before we woke up on Tuesday, Gerald and I had caught the family flu. He dressed, however, although he reduced his level of activity. In fact, at the end of Tuesday, he said he had managed to do the most important two things he meant to do that day. He told me what they were, but I can’t remember since I heard them through the fog of spending the day sleeping in bed. I assumed food was no more appealing to him than me, but knew he could open a can of soup if his extra activity had created an appetite. Yet that evening when he carried down a small bowl of cream of chicken soup to the family room where I was semi-passed out in his recliner, I welcomed it and felt a little energy returning with the warmth of the broth. Enough energy I could get myself ready for bed and another ten hours of sleep.

On Wednesday although I was still less than energetic, I finally got around to finishing the holiday de-decorating that I had started on Monday. I had meant to phone a friend on Tuesday and see if we could meet for lunch before I shopped for groceries at the monthly senior citizens day. Of course, I hadn’t. With the prediction of wind and three to five inches of snow Wednesday night, I decided we really needed to stock some groceries since I had not shopped since before the holiday crowd had joined us. And we were almost out of gas. I decided to write some thank you notes and wait until late in the afternoon hoping my energy level would be up to grocery shopping.

Gerald must have sensed I was not looking forward to that trip to town, and he suggested he take me. He said if I’d make him a list, he would get a cart and help locate some of the needed items. With snow predictions, the parking lot and the store were filled to overflowing, and maneuvering the aisles was a challenge. Being a duel shopping team was a first for us, and the next day he was proudly telling his brother Garry the difference between cut green beans and sliced or French style beans. It just so happened when Gerald called him that Garry was in his local grocery with a list from Ginger’s aide and was trying to decide the difference.

After he put all the food stuff in the trunk, Gerald filled up gas tank where that lot too was crowded. He pulled into a slot that I’d have never dared try, and I stayed resting and warm. He carried in most of the groceries that night while I put out a bite for us to eat after I made sure freezer and fridge foods were put away. After supper I started unsacking and storing a few other staples. Today I have finally gotten most of those groceries put away.

I had received in Wednesday’s afternoon mail Daniel Coyle’s The Talent Code. I’d ordered it immediately after Gerry told us about it at the supper table on Saturday night. Although multiple sclerosis is only a footnote mention on a couple of pages and the book is about hotspots of talent (soccer, singing, softball) and what made those spots happen, any book that is about building myelin was a must-read for me. Despite still dragging a bit from the flu and being tired from the monthly grocery binge shopping, I started reading The Talent Code instead of blogging. I forced myself to go to bed much too long after midnight but was too mentally stimulated by the book to sleep.

Both of us checked outside when we got up during the night and saw the prediction of swirling wind-blown snow had come true. Gerald slept late for him, and we woke up together with the ground outside our windows covered with angelic beauty. As he does each morning, Gerald walked down our lane to get the paper. I put away a few more groceries while the coffee was making. After we breakfasted together over the paper, I went right back to Coyle’s absorbing book. Stopping for lunch preparation and that light meal, I kept reading until I finished at 3:00 that afternoon. Then I got out of my pajamas and dressed for the day.

Today I’ve been busy finishing reading a short manuscript that a sweet neighbor asked me to write a foreward to. I have never written a foreward to a book. I picked up five books lying around to get an idea of what a foreward is all about. None had a foreward. This writer is someone special that I watched grow up and who courted his girl (also someone special to us) while they fished at our pond. We watched them and their three daughters through the years, and we like it that some of them have also fished with boyfriends at our present lake. His brief life story to be published by a local publisher brought back so many memories. I decided to just do it my way and hope it works well for the book. The foreward is in a folder ready to hand to him despite the week’s sick days. So now I am blogging two days later than usual. And I am feeling good.