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Larry Brantley
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Chapter Thirty-Six. The End.
      “The opposite of the happy ending is not actually the sad ending--the sad ending  is  sometimes the happy ending. The opposite of the happy ending is actually the  unsatisfying  ending.”  ―  Orson Scott Card      I hope I'm leaving it the right way. I...

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Chapter Thirty-Five.
     So. This is the penultimate chapter of Making Sh*t Up: An Improvised Life. "Penultimate" is a very fancy word for "second-to-last," and I'm only using it here because I've never had cause to use that word in my entire life before today. And since it's ...

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Chapter Thirty-Four.
     So, I've decided to publish the last three chapters of the book before I officially turn 50. And since I officially turn 50 next Sunday, I should probably get after it. Chapter Thirty-Four Music and Mom   Eight years ago, at the age of forty, I picked ...

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Chapter Thirty-Three.
     So:      My girlfriend and I took our relationship to the next level. My favorite horse in all the world, whom I rode in nearly every Medieval Times show for a year, died suddenly, throwing me into a brief but intense period of depression. I have a tee...

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Chapter Thirty-Two.
     Yeah. I know. It's been over a month since you heard from me. I've been working on some shit. I'll show you in October.      I also thought long and hard about whether to publish this next chapter. I know it's going to hurt some feelings. Noses will be...

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Chapter Thirty-One.
     It's all fun and games to write about the world going to hell in a hand basket, and quite another thing when that shit actually starts to happen. The last two weeks have been nothing short of insane in my country, and a large part of that sad and tragi...

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Chapter Thirty.
Where were the women, Bill? Where were the goddam Winnebagos?      This week's chapter is a period of which I am proud and not proud. You'll understand in a minute. I have nothing genuinely negative to say about my brief time in the military, but you must u...

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Chapter Twenty-Nine.
That pretty much sums it up.      There's nothing quite so self-awareness raising as writing a memoir. Some people can't believe I actually post some of this shit about myself. Others simply don't believe it. They believe, as the name of the book suggests, ...

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Chapter Twenty-Eight.
     I've arrived at that age where I actually have to pay attention to aches and pains. In the first place, they don't go away after a couple of days, the way they did twenty or thirty years ago. In the second place, a sore neck used to mean that you'd ove...

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Chapter Twenty-Seven.
     Ever have one of those days /weeks /months when, literally, the first cogent thought that arises in your brain immediately upon waking up is... fuck ? I just wanted you to know how this was going to start. With that, right there.      Relax. I'm not ab...
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