On the Mountain with Mr. Bouton

It’s been awhile since I wrote about baseball, but recently I was in Seattle with my son Jude, went to a Mariners game, and scaled Hurricane Ridge, drawing some connections, inspiring  “On the Mountain with Mr. Bouton.”   The  folks at Baseball Bard were kind enough to run it at the link that follows.  Enjoy!  Doug.


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Posted in 2018, Baseball, love, observation, perspective, place, Poetry, time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Reading Moby Dick


Ah, the great white whale…finally slayed.

All my life I’ve been a wordsmith, writing songs, stories, poems, essays, teaching English Composition, and working as a grant writer. My B.A. was in English/Creative Writing; my M.Ed. in English/education.

But, I have a couple of confessions to make. First off, I don’t think words are end all be all. There is Music. Art. Silence. Touch. Deep expression that lies beyond words. Secondly, although I’m a fairly vociferous reader with an academic background that required the classics, until recently, Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, had escaped my grasp.  I was just like Captain Ahab.

It was Bob Dylan who nudged me along.   I was reading his Nobel Prize Lecture and he spoke with such passion about Moby Dick,  and its influence on his work, that I had to take up the task – all 614 pages.    Predictably, it is not an easy novel because you often have to sludge through pages and pages of detailed description and sometimes dense prose, to get to the good stuff.  And Melville works in many layers throughout.   But, as I drove on, the payback increased, reminding me of the intrinsic value of challenging yourself.  Art that forces you to stay with it, engage, and commit, gives you a greater reward in the long haul. It requires presence. Just like relationships. Or anything.

When  I finished, I felt a sense of accomplishment and sectionsResized_20180629_135925 of the book began to rise from my subconscious and resonate – repeatedly. Such as:

Give not thyself up, then, to fire, lest it invert thee, deaden thee; as for the time it did me. There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar….”

Yeah man. Or, simply the line Dylan called attention to: “It is not down in any map; true places never are.”  

I imagine this is a book I will go back to, returning to passages like these, digging deeper, gaining dividends over time, dependent on where I’m at in life at that moment.   I can feel it.  Harkening back to Bob, his best work (of which I have many favorites – say Desire or Highway 61 Revisited) means a completely different thing to me now than when I was a kid – both equally valid and strong.  These things stand outside of time.

So, thanks Bob for the tip, and thanks Mr. Melville for taking 18 months out of your life into writing one for the ages. Melville’s masterpiece was out of print when he died in 1891, but just like the depth of its content, it continues to take on new life. And when you pick it up and bend a sail, you will fill the broadside with new meaning.

Doug Hoekstra, 2018

Posted in 2018, Art, challenge, time, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Performance Art

Happy to debut a new short story, “Performance Art,” published this month at Trampset (“a literary journal for the tramps”).  Managed to work in Tony Hillerman, Modest Mouse, and Marlon Brando.  But, the idea was to write something in second-person, ala the brilliant Lorrie Moore.  My ex-students may remember that exercise….enjoy!


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The Unsung Five – Rolling Stones Haikus

The fine folks at Treehouse (re; the last post) asked me to put together something for the Five Things Feature.  So, here we have five haikus for the Unsung Rolling Stones – Brian Jones, Ian Stewart, Andrew Loog Oldham, Bill Wyman, Mick Taylor.  Inspired by a visit to Exhibitionism in Nashville, and delivered in verse.   Enjoy.

The Unsung 5: Rolling Stones Haiku

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Posted in 2018, Haiku, Music, Poetry, Uncategorized, Underdogs | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


For your pleasure, a new flash fiction of mine titled “Silently,” published at Treehouse (the home of “good, short writing”).   Thanks as always, for the read.   Best, Doug.

Brief Encounter: Silently



Posted in 2018, class, flash fiction, observation, silence, Uncategorized, zen | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Gumshoe Bumble

Happy to have a new flash fiction entitled “Gumshoe Bumble,” published up at 101 Stories, “a comprehensive ecosystem and community that can support writers, editors, and readers.”  Their words. My words are the following, this compressed noir update.


Posted in 2018, film noir, flash fiction, love, memory, microfiction, Nashville, Relationships, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Red-Tailed Hawk

Here is a new flash fiction, “Red-Tailed Hawk” for your enjoyment, up at the estimable Friday Flash Fiction


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