Take the "A" Train

Yesterday I took the A Train from the George Washington Bridge Bus Station (175th Street) to Columbus Circle (59th Street). I am an occasional rider on this route.

The direct shot from 125th Street to 59th is among the longest on the NY subway system. It, thereby, gives one time to reflect and observe.

I often reflect on Duke Ellington.

While being the author of the iconic jazz piece, the Duke also spent a lot of time in Harlem. He was, however, from Washington, DC. The school of the arts that bears his name is down the street from my former home. The District of Columbia is very proud of him.

Coincidentally, yesterday the US Mint released a DC state quarter stamped with his likeness. It is the first time that an African American has ever appeared on a US coin.

So much for the reflecting part. Now for my A Train observation.

When I was a kid growing up in Summit, NJ, our mothers bought us blue jeans that were way too long so that we would grow into them. Back then, it also took a year or so to get a pair of jeans faded and beat-up just the way you liked them.

To compensate for the added length, we would carefully roll up the leg bottoms. It became a "look." In the 50's, before bell bottoms, before stone washing, before Guess, EVERYBODY wore blue jeans with the bottoms rolled up, even James Dean.

I currently have several pairs of blue jeans that are too long. Perhaps I am now growing down instead of up. It never occurred to me that I might, 50 years later, again become a fashionista by rolling up the legs, but yesterday I saw the fashion future while riding the A Train and I am now sporting my new urban fashion statement.

A group of boisterous high school kids got on at the 165th Street Station (Washington Heights...home to my idol Manny Rameriz). They were mostly wearing black North Face jackets, sneakers, blue jeans, and Yankee caps with the store seal still on the brim.

One kid had the legs of his jeans rolled up. Poor guy, I thought, but it made me think fondly about my mother and times long gone by.

Then with my head bowed, lost in my iPod, I noticed that the kid next to him, and the kid next to him ALL had their pants rolled up...perfectly. So I figure I'm on to something.

I have since been keeping a close eye out. After my walk across the bridge this afternoon I ran into a pack of Ft. Lee HS kids. Most had on their North Face, sneakers, Yankee caps, and, yup, all donned carefully rolled-up jeans.

My stylish daughter Martha may tell me that this has been going on for years, but I don't think so.

New York is on the cusp of exporting this new urban look to America and the world.

By spring?

Rolled up blue jeans coast to coast!

You read it here first.

Thank you for visiting.

"Expecting to Fly"

Loon goes on sale May 19.

Three months from today! 

The paperback galley proofs are in.  But for the cover and soft binding, they are identical to the actual book.  I received my copy the other day and can't put it down. It is a paralyzingly powerful feeling to know that this story will be told.    

Random House has sent out the first batch of galleys to over 100 media outlets (NY Times, Publishers Weekly, NPR, and everyone else you can imagine.)  

The marketing and publicity campaign will be focused on both print and electronic media with a heavy web presence as well. There will not be a formal book tour, but I will appear for signings at a number of venues after May 19 including the Army-Navy Club in Washington, DC. Watch this space for more information.

Product Description

A lyrical memoir of a prep school boy who creates his own path to higher learning: enlisting in the U.S. Marine Corps, fighting in Vietnam, and then studying at Harvard

Reviews

"The battle at Loon erupts suddenly and sucks you in. Like Jack McLean, you ask: what am I doing here? The answer is: you joined the Marines and now it's time to fight for your life. A gripping story of violence and dedication to survival."
---- Bing West, author of The Strongest Tribe
"LOON is a saga of an infantry Marine - the decision to enlist, the intensity of the recruit, mortal combat, and finally transition back to civilian life. This beautifully written story is a must read for all combat warriors, their families, and those interested in the turbulent times surrounding the Vietnam War."
----Col H.C. "Barney" Barnum, USMC (Ret), Medal of Honor Recipient

“[This] unique tale . . . is skillfully written and will be among the classic books written about the Vietnam War.”
—Jan Scruggs, Esq., Founder and President, Vietnam Veterans Memorial

Pre-order today.

Thank you for visiting.

A View From the Bridge

The downstream view from my daily walk across the George Washington Bridge evokes the horrific memory of 9/11.

That memory is now balanced by the wondrous hope created by Captain Sully Sullenberger.

I was on the bridge as Flight 1549 glided 500 feet above me last month on its way to water landing. 

The engines had shut down.  

There was no noise whatsoever.

I neither heard nor saw a thing. 

Thank goodness.

Happy Birthday Martha

Welcome to the Big Three OH!

From Loon to "Loon" PART 5

This is the last in a five part series

When I returned home from Hong Kong, the contract was waiting. The details were numbingly legal, but the bas

I was only disappointed to hear that the publication date had been set for May 19, 2009 - well over a year away. RH sought to position Loon as a beach book, a summer read. They also wanted to be certain that it didn't get caught up in the media hysteria surrounding the Presidential election.

I was assigned an executive at Random House who was to shepherd Loon from manuscript to publication. The book now belonged to them, so the first time I had someone else on my team with a financial stake in the book's success. 

This was business. 

I understood business.

What were the next steps? 

• Final editing. There were several minor areas that RH felt could be developed - a paragraph here, a chapter ending there. These were only suggestions, but they were right on every point. The changes were made.
• Permissions. This required that I have written permission from anyone that I had quoted, cited, or mentioned in a potentially libelous way ("Would Sal Martucci, or his family see your humor in watching him get shot for venereal disease?") Several of these permissions required that I personally pay a royalty to the author (Lou Reed Music, for example.)
• Cover design. I had always seen Loon as a coming of age story with broad age and gender appeal. Then again, it is a war story. How do we walk the line to create the cover we want that will be appealing to the broad segment of the market. I found the result to be incredible!
• Copyediting. I had presented what I felt was a near perfect manuscript. What came back were pages of penciled scribble in a language akin to Navajo. The (suggested) corrections were editorial, grammatical, and contextual. Remember how in school you'd turn in a paper with perhaps a couple of soft points that you thought might skate by??!! Nothing missed the copyeditor.

Now, with three months to go before publication, I've been assigned a publicist who has a PhD in English and enough experience to position the book well in the media. At every turn, I have been amazed by professionalism of all with whom I have dealt. Now we again need your help.

We are beginning to plan a book tour, media events, and the like to assure a positive launch on May 19.

So many of you have been supportive of this effort. Thanks to your pre-order purchases, Loon is #219,116 on the Amazon best seller list (A Tale of Two Cities is 604,437). We’ve been as high as 89,000 and as low as over a million. (Editor's note - Loon has risen as high as 2,300 on Amazon and currently sits at 12,300.)

I am confident that Loon will be a #1 best seller. The grand young sons of Charlie Company have earned nothing less.

Please let me know of potential book signing venues (including your house,) media and literary that may be good targets for a favorable review.

Thank you for your support.

Thank you for visiting.

Semper Fidelis.

From Loon to "Loon" PART 4

This is the fourth in a five part series

With the Loon manuscript now in the capable hands of my agent in New York, there was little for me to do but wait. Although she felt that there could be 8 or 10 publishers with an interest, she was careful to keep my lofty expectations in check. It was now about cash, marketing, and brand creation. Was there an audience out there for a topic that had a well earned reputation as a marketing graveyard - Vietnam?

Early in February 2008, I received word that we had two declinations. Although the comments were encouraging, the decisions were not. At the end of the month, days before leaving on a three week trip to visit my daughter and her family in Hong Kong, I called to see if there was any news.

"Well, sort of. We got a nibble from Random House."

I'd been in sales long enough to know that all big catches begin with a nibble. Success comes from keeping a fish on the line and reeling it in.

"A nibble," I responded. "Nibbles are good. Yes? I mean, nibbles are better than no nibbles, right?" I needed some hope here, something positive to dream about on a sixteen hour airplane ride.

"Yes, Jack. Nibbles are better than no nibbles."

So off I went to Hong Kong filled with hope. I told friends and family that I'd had a nibble from Random House. The response was enthusiastic. I was ecstatic.

Random House!

I mean, literary insiders knew I had a great agent, but everybody in the world knew how great Random House was! Did I go through all of this just to get a nibble from Random House? No, but I had to admit that the feeling was incredible.

Three days into my trip, my cell phone rang. It was my agent informing me that Random House was going to make an offer for Loon.

From Loon to "Loon" PART 3

This is the third in a five part series

The long flight home from my daughter's wedding in Thailand had me warmly reflecting and eagerly anticipating all at once. It was a magnificent jumble of feelings. Hours after the plane landed, I placed the Loon manuscript in the mail to my new editor in Indiana and begin a vigil by the mail slot of my Georgetown home - so eager was I for any criticism that would make me a better writer and Loon a better book.

The first third of the manuscript returned a month later. It was peppered with pencil marks, littered with arrows going from here to there, and filled with editorial and grammatical commentary. It was like the return of a so-so term paper...on steroids. I soaked up every mark and executed her every suggestion. It was incredible. She was in my head as surely as if she were a protagonist in the filmBeing John Malkovich.

We plowed forward for months and months - all by mail. She'd have an idea - I'd think it was terrific. I'd come up with something and she'd know exactly where it belonged. It was just about the most fun I'd ever had. It was an extremely satisfying process.

Meanwhile, I had gotten another job and, although determined to make this one work, my heart and soul remained in Loon. Despite honest effort, I was again shown the door a year later.

That summer, as my second daughter was being married, my editor and I knew that we were close to a finished product. She would send new comments every couple of months for my review. I'd throw them in my car and head to the Outer Banks where a Vietnam buddy had given me the use of his beach house in which to write. Many stories emerged from this editing period that taught me much about myself both as a person and as a writer.

Midway through my tour in Vietnam, for example, I was given 5 days of R&R in Singapore. I wrote detailed pages about the days leading up to it and the first several hours. I then skipped ahead three days to write about a newspaper story I'd seen. I then skipped to the flight back to Vietnam. The comment that came back from Indiana about this chapter?

"Your public AND your editor want to know exactly what happened during those first three days!"

Ouch. Why go there? Doesn't the reader have an imagination?

But, as usual, she was right. I sat down and wrote about the first three days in detail and soon found myself laughing out loud at my memories. Her suggestion ignited some of my very best writing.

Among the casualties of the editing process were my letters home. On the first pass, some were removed and others severely edited. As time went on, however, most disappeared and were replaced by prose. Although the letters were excellent source documents, my editor was clear that the reader would want more of my current writing. The manuscript that began with over 100 letters, now had but four, with three written by others.

By the end of 2007, we agreed that the manuscript was ready again for my agent.  I took it to New York in January. The change from that which she had first seen exactly two years prior was palpable. She thought that there might now be a market, although Vietnam remained far off the national literary radar screen.

For the first time, Loon was out of my hands and into the marketplace. All involved agreed that it was a good story. All involved also agreed that it was very well written. It was now up to the market.

I had no job, was living full time above a friend's garage on the Outer Banks, but was at peace with both my accomplishment and my life.

From Loon to "Loon" PART 2

This is the second in a series of five blog reposts

By the summer of 2005, I had been writing what was to become Loon for nearly three years. It had been transformed from a compendium of 100 letters home into an almost-book with half as many letters and a correspondingly increasing amount of prose. I received positive feedback from friends, family, and even Washington DC military insiders. 

During that period, an incredible situation unfolded. Day by day, large thanks to the burgeoning internet, my former Vietnam buddies emerged from the woodwork. With them came floods of memories. We began to regularly get together, first in twos and threes then, over time, in greater numbers.

"Do you remember those three days in June 1968? Did that really happen?"

We listened to each other and cried, laughed, and argued.

"No, no, you shithead, that's not the way I remember it. Here's how it really happened..."

As each former comrade-in-arms emerged, the tears, the laughs, and the arguments continued anew. But over time the stories became clearer - even lucid. We gained access to unseen unit diaries, found actual rosters of the wounded, and poured over the names of the dead.

Oh, so many dead.

As I shared my letters with the new arrivals, I realized that I had created a record of our time in Vietnam. Few of the boys wrote letters home with content relevant to our actual activities. More often than not, this was intentional so as not to upset their families.

The letters found their way to the mother of one of our boys. She wrote to emotionally tell me that this was her first knowledge of the details of her son's life in Vietnam. That blew me away and reinforced my determination to keep writing, despite having neither a job nor a clue as to how such a book might become published.

I'd already been well introduced to one agent and, after a year of trying, struck out. I'd spent months working with a major military publisher and struck out again. But for the reinforcement of family, friends, and fellow Marines, I'm certain I could not have gone forward.

Seeing my discouragement during a down moment, a marine buddy laid it out.

"Listen to me Jack, this ain't just your story, this is our story. It belongs to all of Charlie Company and it must be told. You can write it. We can't. Get it? Now get off your ass and get this thing done."

I wonder if my writing career might have launched earlier had my mother ever given me such an admonition.

So, I kept writing and I kept networking. I wrote to publishers, agents, and authors. Most were around Washington where I was living at the time, but I also made several trips to New York. Soon I realized that it was important to have an agent and really important that she have a 212 area code.

My break came early in 2007.

Friends arranged a breakfast for me to meet a local newspaper reporter who was not only a former marine, but also the author of a well received book about the Vietnam era. I subsequently sent him excerpts of my writing which he then offered to share with his agent in New York.

Wow!

It still took nearly a year for me to wangle an appointment with the agent and even then she offered little encouragement. That being said, however, there I was on Bleaker Street in Greenwich Village talking with the head of one of New York's legendary literary agencies. We parted after 20 minutes. She asked that I send her the manuscript. She'd take a look when she had time.

No airplane was required for my return flight home to Washington.

Weeks passed. Months passed. No word.

My phone finally rang in early April. I was in Thailand attending my daughter's wedding.

"Jack? Have you considered retaining an editor? It may cost you."

An editor?

"Can you suggest someone?"

"Yes, I have someone in mind."

The editor suggested was a freelancer who had worked for Random House, had solid experience with war writing, was willing to take a look at the manuscript, and understood the big idea. Loon had evolved from a series of letters into a book about America in the mid 1960's. I was left to wonder how it was that my cell phone worked in Thailand.

And, the times were changing. As the population aged, there was increasing interest both the Vietnam War and America in the late 1960's. After five long years, it appeared that I might be in the right place at the right time.

The book needed help to get the interest of a major publisher. I was on the road.

It would take two more years to bring Loon to market, but in April 2007, I knew we had crossed the Rubicon.

From Loon to "Loon" PART 1

This is the first in a five part series

From earliest memory my mother said that I would write the Great American Novel - not should, not could, but would. I’d laugh.

She’d laugh.

Over time I noted that, beneath her smile, she was serious. Yet, no endeavor could have been nearer to my heart or further from my reality than that of being an author. Our lively back and forth on this subject continued until her death in March 1987.

Years later, I came upon a box of letters home that I’d written during my time in the United States Marine Corps from 1966 to 1968. My mother had saved them, but I’d never read even one.

Between jobs and looking for a distraction, I began to carefully transcribe the letters. Then I cried – for several days. So many of those boys with whom I served in Vietnam were still dead, still wounded, or lost off in the world. I continued to write. I was creating a gift for my daughters. I was putting our microcosm of history on paper.

There was some satisfaction when I finished the project a month later. Closure? I continued my job hunt and tried to get on with my life, but the letters gnawed at me. I’d succeeded in recreating 107 different photographs, in the form of individual letters, of my life over a two-year span. They needed an album to assure that someone other than I would know the full story.

I began to write again, this time telling stories. Who was this friend I mentioned several times, what was my family like, my upbringing. The letters had been honest, but were protective of my family. I had to be more direct about what had actually happened and my feelings at the time.

I finally got a job, but found that I was soon spending every free moment writing filler stories. My body was there, it was a good job, but my soul was in Vietnam. The job lasted a year after which I really began to write and realized for the first time that I might actually have a book on my hands. I was so wonderfully engaged. I’d write all day and into the night. I had a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle on my hands and I was putting it together piece by piece.

I looked for another job, but mostly wrote. I was introduced to a Pulitzer Prize winning writer who had just completed a book about the Vietnam War. He liked what he read and (long time passing with each excruciating step) referred me to his agent. He liked it (sort of.) Another year passed, the agent struck out in his attempts to find a publisher, as I did with my attempts.

No one wanted to read about Vietnam.

No one wanted to read military memoirs (particularly ones from Vietnam.)

Vietnam was dead, and the American public had elected with their wallets to keep it that way.

And what was my big idea, anyway?

But, the times were changing.

I knew I had a good book.

I knew it needed work.

I knew I needed help.

Jersey, Baby!

"The Boss" is highlighting the Super Bowl halftime show tonight! 

Most people know that Bruce Springsteen is from New Jersey, but few people know the Garden State.  

In honor of tonight's performance, I confess that not only am I a resident of New Jersey, but I also spent the first fifteen years of my life here. Despite its reputation outside of the state, it was actually a great place to grow up.

When my family moved away, the New Jersey part of my young life was purposefully buried for the next 45 years until I moved back and began discovering the wonderful (and not so wonderful) elements of our Garden State.

In honor of Bruce...

Here goes.  New Jersey...

Is a peninsula.

Has the highest elevation on the entire eastern seaboard, from Maine to Florida.

Is the only state with all counties classified as metropolitan areas.

Has more race horses than Kentucky.

Has more Cubans in Union City (1 sq mile) than Havana, Cuba.

Has the densest system of highways and railroads in the US.

Has the highest cost of living.

Has the highest cost of auto insurance.

Has the highest property taxes. 

Has the most diners in the world. 

Is home to the original Mystery Pork Parts Club (Taylor Ham or Pork Roll.)

Is home to the best Italian hot dogs and Italian sausage w/peppers and onions.

Has the most shopping malls in one area in the world. 

Is home to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.

Was home to the first submarine ride by inventor John  P. Holland on (beneath) the Passaic River.

Has 50+ resort cities & towns including some of the nation's most famous: Asbury Park, Wildwood, Atlantic City, Seaside Heights, Long Branch, and Cape May.

Has the most stringent coastline water quality testing in the country. 

Is a leading technology and industrial state and the largest chemical producer in the nation. 

Tomatoes are known the world over as being the best you can buy.

Is the world leader in blueberry and cranberry production. 

Was home to the nation's first brewery in Hoboken 1642.  

Is where Les Paul invented the first solid body electric guitar in Mahwah, in 1940.

Has the nation's largest seaport.  Nearly 80 percent of all US imports come through Elizabeth, my father's home town.

Is home to one of the nation's busiest airports, in Newark's Liberty International.

Was the site of several important Revolutionary War battles led by General George Washington (Trenton, Princeton, Morristown, and Monmouth.)

Is where the light bulb, phonograph, and motion picture projector were invented by Thomas Edison in his Menlo Park laboratory.

Boasts the first town ever to be lit by incandescent bulbs.

Is where the first seaplane was built in Keyport.

Delivered the first air mail from Keyport to Chicago. 

Is where the first phonograph records were made in Camden, NJ.

Is the longtime home to the Miss America Pageant in Atlantic City.

Is the centerpiece of the game Monopoly with all streets named for those in Atlantic City.

Has the world's longest boardwalk in Atlantic City. 

Has the largest petroleum containment area outside of the Middle East.

Was home to the first Indian reservation in the Watchung Mountains.

Has the tallest water-tower in the world in Union. 

Was home to the nation's first medical center in Jersey City.

Boasts the nation's first elevated highway, The Pulaski Skyway from Jersey City to Newark.

Built the Holland Tunnel tunnel, the first under a river.

Hosted the first baseball game in Hoboken - also the  birthplace of Frank Sinatra.

Was the site of the first intercollegiate football game in New Brunswick in 1889  between Rutgers and Princeton.

Was home to the first drive-in movie theater was in Camden.

Is home to both of  New York's pro football teams.

Was the site of the first radio station and broadcast in Paterson.

Was the site of the first FM radio broadcast from Alpine.

Built and tested the first successful radar system in Ft. Monmouth.

Is home to The Great Falls on the Passaic River in Paterson.  They are the 2nd highest  waterfalls on the East Coast.  Not coincidentally, Paterson was also the birthplace of the industrial revolution in the US.  

Personal fun facts:

My father and my sister Barby were born here as were most members of my Grandmother's family going back to the 1600's in Parsipany.

I learned to swim here.

My Grandmother is responsible for the state flag. 

I once tried to throw a lit cherry bomb  at Melinda Shartz's house from a car, but, forgot to roll window. 

Here are a few notable New Jersey natives: 

Jack Nicholson, Philip Roth, Bruce  Springsteen, Bon Jovi, Jason Alexander, Queen Latifah, Susan Sarandon, Connie Francis, Shaq,  Aaron Burr, Count Basie, Dionne Warwick, Sarah Vaughn, Budd Abbott, Lou Costello, Alan Ginsberg, Norman Mailer, Marilynn McCoo, Flip Wilson, Alexander Hamilton, Whitney Houston, Eddie Money, Grover Cleveland, Woodrow Wilson, Walt Whitman, Jerry Lewis, Tom Cruise, Joyce Kilmer, Bruce Willis, Caesar Romero, Lauryn Hill, Ice-T, Nathan Lane, John Forsythe, Sandra Dee, Danny DeVito, Joe Pesci, Joe Piscopo, Robert Blake, John Forsythe, Meryl Streep, Loretta Swit, Paul Simon, Gorden  McCrae, Kevin Spacey, John Travolta, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Eva Marie Saint, Elisabeth Shue, Zebulon Pike, James Fennimore Cooper,  Admiral Wm.Halsey,Jr, Dave Thomas (Wendy's), Ray Liotta, Paul Robeson, Ernie Kovacs,  Kelly Ripa, and, of course, Francis Albert Sinatra, Charlie Company Commander Bill Negron (Perth Amboy), and Random House author Jack McLean.

You know you're from Jersey when:

You don't think of fruit when people mention "The Oranges."

You know that it's called Great Adventure, not Six Flags.

A high nutrition quick breakfast is a hard roll with butter.

You've known the way to Seaside Heights since you were seven.

You've eaten at a diner at 3AM either stoned or drunk.

You know that the state isn't one big oil refinery.

At least three people in your family still love Bruce Springsteen, and  you know the town Jon Bon Jovi is from.

You know what a "jug handle" is.

You know that WaWa is a convenience store.

You know that the state isn't all farmland.

You know that there are no beaches.  There's the shore, and  you don't go "to the shore," you go "down the shore." And when you are there, you're not "at the shore" you are "down the shore."

You know that this is the only "New" state that doesn't require "New" to  identify it.  Try it out -  Mexico?  York? Hampshire? - No way.

You know that a " White Castle " is the name of BOTH a fast food chain AND a fast food sandwich.

You consider putting mayo on a corned beef sandwich a sacrilege.

You don't think "What exit?" is very funny.

You know that people from the 609 area code are a little different because, well, they are. 

You know that no respectable New Jerseyan goes to Princeton. It's reserved for out-of-staters.

The Jets-Giants game has started fights at your school or local bar.

You live within 20 minutes of at least three different malls.

You refer to all highways and interstates by their numbers.

Every year you have at least one kid in your class named Tony.

You know the location of every clip shown in the Sopranos opening credits.

You've gotten on the wrong highway trying to get out of the mall.

You know that people from North Jersey go to Seaside Heights.  People and from Central Jersey go to Belmar. People from South Jersey go to Wildwood.  It can be no other way.

You weren't raised in New Jersey.  You were raised in either North  Jersey, Central Jersey, or South Jersey.

You don't consider Newark or Camden to actually be part of the state.

You remember Korvette's, Two Guys, Rickel's, Channel, Bamberger's, Klein's  and Orbach's.

You also remember Palisades Amusement Park .

You've had a boardwalk cheese steak and vinegar fries.

You start planning for Memorial Day weekend in February.

And finally . . . 

You've never ever pumped your own gas.

Thank you for visiting.