This is 60

A milestone birthday, plus my weekly shareables: A script doctor's new life, a bunch of new music, and a cash-eating dog

Photo by Nikola Tasic on Unsplash

A couple of quick DOGLAND notes to start us off:

—In case you’re keeping track, the publication date has been pushed back one week … it’s now April 23. That gave us all a little more time to go through the production process. I just got back the typeset pages for another round of editing, and the book looks so beautiful that I got choked up a little. I can’t wait for y’all to see it.

—DOGLAND is starting to show up on a few “books to look for in 2024” lists, like this one from Daily Kos. If you see any others, email me or just drop them in the comments so I know what’s out there.

—Fair warning: I’ll be pushing preorders pretty hard on here from now until pub day. Many thanks to those of you who have already preordered, through Park Road Books or other booksellers. I know the sales pitches might get tedious for some of you. But new subscribers are signing up for the Writing Shed every day, and for them, all this will be new. My most devoted readers are here on this newsletter and I’m so grateful for your support.

Also, as I’ve said a few times before, preorders are crucial for things like book tours and bestseller lists. People often ask me about coming to their town on tour … we haven’t set any of that up yet, but I can tell you one good way to make it happen: Get a bunch of people in your town to preorder the book! I would love to come see you.

OK, sales pitch over for today. There’s lots more to talk about. Starting with a birthday.

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When I was in my 20s and knew everything, I once wrote a newspaper column where I outlined the age ranges for humans. Zero to 30 was young, I said; 30 to 60 was middle-aged; 60 to 90 was old.

Shockingly, many readers disagreed. Most of them were 32-year-olds who were outraged at being called middle-aged. But the one I remember best was a 60ish colleague who wandered over to my desk and reamed me out about it. Sixty is not old, she said, fire in her eyes.

Well, now I’m here. I turned 60 on Thursday. And I feel old and young at the same time.

When I get up in the morning, my back hurts and I have to pee and my hair looks like a nest of foxes slept in it. My beard is far more gray than black. A couple months ago I gave in and bought one of those pill boxes marked with the days of the week so I could keep my medicine straight. In some stores they give me the senior discount without asking.

But most of the time, inside my head, I feel like a kid. I still get that teenage tingle when my wife walks into the room. I delight all over again in hearing a great new song. When I write something new and put it out into the world, I’m as nervous as a first date. When I get together with old friends, the years just fall away.

When I was 50, I wrote that guys like me—meaning, fat guys—don’t make it to 60. I’m still a fat guy. I’ve still got a long way to go to be anything else. But I do also have to acknowledge that in many ways I feel healthier, better, younger than I was 10 years ago. My knees might disagree but my heart will back me up on this.

Still, 60 is clearly closer to the end than the beginning. I used to think of life as a golf course … when I was 50, I knew I was on the back nine somewhere. Now it feels more like a football game—I’ve taken a bunch of hits, and I can’t see the clock from where I am, but I know it’s running.

But I might still have the wrong metaphor. My friend Wayne called yesterday to sing me “Happy Birthday” over the phone. This was not necessary, especially if you have heard Wayne sing. Wayne is 75, still working part-time, volunteering every weekend to deliver food and clothes and medicine to homeless people in his city. He said he thinks of his life as a baseball game. He figures he’s in the eighth inning. When he gets to 80, that might be the top of the ninth.

“After that,” he said, “I’m just hoping for free baseball.”

That is the singular beauty of baseball, and of life. No clock. Every game has an end, but there’s no way to know exactly when it will be. There is always the chance for extra innings. And if that’s the case, maybe 60 is not, let’s say optimistically, two-thirds of the way to the end. Maybe it’s just the middle. Maybe there’s way more time than it seems.

In the meantime, I am going to try to apply the lessons I learned playing baseball as a kid. If something hurts, rub some dirt on it. Just stay in the game. Keep playing, as long as there’s light.

10 things I wanted to share this week:

1. My guest on this week’s episode of SOUTHBOUND was Rebecca Renner, author of GATOR COUNTRY—a wild true story about a Florida wildlife agent who went undercover to bust alligator poachers. I learned so much from Rebecca and her book, not just about poaching, but about the unique beauty of the Florida swamps.

2. Lauren Corriher at Axios Charlotte was kind enough to include me in her roundup of Charlotte authors talking about what makes this city a good place to write for a living.

3. Patrick Radden Keefe has a delightful story in the New Yorker on Scott Frank, who made millions as a Hollywood script doctor but is now working on his own projects. He lands in my personal Hall of Fame just for this closing scene from OUT OF SIGHT:
   

4. RIP Cale Yarborough, who kicked off NASCAR’s golden era by brawling with two Allison brothers after a last-lap wreck at the 1979 Daytona 500. A storm had snowed in the East Coast that weekend, which brought a lot more viewers to the race—and the brawl hooked some of them for good. (Motorsport.com)

5. DOG NEWS: From now until DOGLAND comes out, I’m devoting this slot to dog stories. This week: You think your dog is a chaos agent? Meet Cecil, who ate $4,000 in cash. (Washington Post)

6. Our latest British crime drama is MIDSOMER MURDERS, the venerable series that has run for more than 20 seasons. The early ones feel a little dated to us so we’ve moved ahead in the timeline a bit, which is rare for us; we tend to be completists with this sort of thing.

7. I am fully immersed in Hanif Abdurraqib’s list of his favorite 108 albums of 2023. I’m always looking for sherpas to guide me toward great new music and I’m going to be dipping into this list for months. (Medium)

8. Here’s a track I found thanks to Hanif’s list—”Yosemite,” a beautiful duet between Molly Tuttle and Dave Matthews.
   

   
   9. Another musical discovery over the holidays: the California Honeydrops, a retro-soul band from Oakland. “When It Was Wrong” is such a perfect pastiche of Carolina beach music that I can close my eyes and see couples doing the shag.
   

   10. One more track: I don’t know how I listened to so much Americana over the past few years and whiffed on the Turnpike Troubadours. I had never heard this song until I saw John Moreland cover it on Instagram, and wow is it beautiful.
   
   

   Have a great week, everybody.