Bill Talbot

This is a very old article. I included it because I mentioned it in my biography. You can find it at Talbot, B. (1990). Writing for Learning in School: Is It Possible? Language Arts, 67(1), 47–56. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41961700

In process - currently looking for a publisher

What can possibly go wrong next? Russell McPhail is having trouble adjusting in his first year in junior high school. In a desperate attempt to become more popular, Russell unleashes a series of disastrous events that get him in trouble with his mom, the school principal and the school bully. None of this is his fault of course. 

Chapter 3
Disaster at Nakiska
(excerpt)

The line for the chairlift was short and in no time, Sean and Russell were swept off their feet and settling back in the swaying chair. They rose higher, over the treetops, and soon Russell was looking down on what seemed to be the whole side of the mountain, with miniature skiers weaving their way down the different trails. It was so exhilarating that his spirits were immediately raised, and he even forgot any anxiety he'd initially had about how to get off the chair, until they were at the top. There was a brief moment of panic, but Sean grabbed his arm, pulled him forward and held him upright as they coasted over to the top of the run.

"Just remember to keep turning from side to side so that you don't get going too fast," Sean warned as he pushed off.

The hill looked awfully steep, but Russell forced himself to begin. The first few turns weren't too bad, but as he picked up speed the pressure against his toes became worse until it felt like his toenails were being pushed right back into his big toes. The pain was becoming unbearable and soon he couldn't force himself to turn if his life depended on it. Worse, he was still picking up speed. Soon he would be totally out of control.
Suddenly the hill took a sharp drop. This was it. He was going to die. By now he was going so fast that he could hear the wind whistling past his ears and he could feel his skis wobbling as he started to lose control. He crouched to keep his balance, but with horror, he realized that this was only making him go faster. He thought about just falling down, but it was way too late for that. It would be like jumping out of a speeding car.

Then he looked up. Directly ahead was a line of skiers waiting for the lift, and behind them loomed the rental shop. Russell just had time to let out a horrified scream. The line of skiers dissolved into a mass of jumbled arms, legs and skis as they dove to get out of the way. The only thing left in his way was the solid cement wall of the rental shop. Russell collapsed. As he hit the snow, his skis bounced crazily up and struck the shop while Russell disappeared out of sight between the support posts and under the shop.

There was a stunned silence for a moment then a melee, as anxious skiers, led by Sean raced toward the rental shop to pick up the pieces of Russell.

In process - currently recording an EP of 4 songs I have written 

When I found you
One of these mornings, lost inside myself
Thoughts are drifting, remembering how it fe…..lt
That moment's elation, the sweetness of your smile
Your eyes, your spark, your style,

And who'd have believed that it would last
Through all of these decades past
I'm so glad that I found y…ou
So glad that I found you
 
Anticipation, of seeing you again
Exultation, that you felt, the sa…me
Times together, filled up with such bliss
Your glance, your touch, your kiss

And who 'd have believed that it would last
Through all of these decades past
I'm so glad that I found y…ou
So glad that I found you

I Don't care about Mississippi
I don't care about Mississippi   
She's a verdant green, but tinged with black   
She'll be oh so easy to leave, and there ain't no goin' back 
Echoes of that tragic history, sinister shapes that hung, from trees   
So I don't care about Mississippi
No I don't care at all
 
I don't care about Mississippi
All that history so hard to bear
Those sins we got to wear
 
Gonna go up to the land of snow
Where sins are buried so no one knows
Gifts of smallpox blankets, children ripped from mother's arms,
Schools of guilt and shame, didn't mean them any harm
So I don't care about that history
No I don't care at all
    
I don't care about that history
Makes it easier to pretend
That we're not as bad as them
So, I don't care at all

Broken
Your future at the edge of nowhere       
You hold a dream that you can share
Nothing much, but trees and sand
Unyielding, but cleared by hand
Endless rocks and roots recede
You till the soil and plant the seed
Bro…o….ken
 
You tried to keep the upper hand
In your struggle not to quit the land
This battle leaves a broken man
Bro…o….ken
 
Your res-olution's oh so str-ong
But you can on-ly carry on so long
Years of toil, that sap the will
A promise that, goes unfulfilled
The endless chasm of despair
Becomes too much for one to bear
Bro…o….ken
 
You tried to keep the upper hand
In your struggle not to quit the land
This battle leaves a broken man
Bro…o….ken
 
Though tragedy defined you
So I only knew you from afar
It's just a barrier to be chipped away
To remember who you are
Bro…o….ken
Bro…o….ken

Sherry's Song
Once in a life it happens
A seed that's sown in Spring
Can give life its meaning
A promise only love can bring
 
When leaves have turned from green
To their vibrant gold and red
Their beauty only deepens
With more loveliness ahead
 
Don't mind getting old
When I have you to hold
No use clinging to the past
Cause good things always last
 
Two souls forever one
Two oaks with roots entwined
Two lives with one purpose
Grown together for all time
 
Don't mind getting old
When I have you to hold
No use clinging to the past
Cause good things always last
 
No use clinging to the past
Cause good things always last