Thom Ring

The Next Generation Indie Book Awards have been announced for 2025, and Nathan's Journal
was chosen as the best of novel of the year among those under 70,000 words. This is considered
the largest and most prestigious international awards-program in existence for independent
authors and publishers. 
According to the book's review, "This novel is extremely well written, with compassion and
understanding for those with brain injuries and the life-altering transitions required."
Nathan's Journal also was chosen a finalist as a Young Adult novel.

Please ignore the post below. Teslas are not made solely with parts sourced in the U.S. I had read that somewhere, which these days means absolutely nothing.

Was looking at Matchbox cars and Hot Wheels cars at Family Dollar a few days ago. They had a number of tiny Teslas. I told the kid at the register they should be careful, as somebody might come in to blow them up. He looked at me like I had two heads, which is generally how young people look at me if I even say hi or interact with them in any way not digital.

But I did see a guy online bashing Matchbox Teslas with a sledgehammer. It looked like fun. 

Oh - and the Matchbox Chevy pickups I saw at Family Dollar had bigger cargo-beds than a Cyber Truck.

It's interesting that Teslas are the only cars available today with all American-sourced content.
    What's less interesting, I guess, is the fact that the reason American-built cars have parts
from other countries is more about the American manufacturers' hope for an export-market than
any import-market. You know, "world cars." Of course, right now the world is our enemy.
    And what about burning fossil fuels? That's now a point of pride for many, as they gas up
sun-blocking SUVs and giant light-duty pick-up trucks, about the only American vehicles
American companies offer these days. 
    So tariffs will raise the prices of small cars built anywhere as a greater percentage of their
sticker prices will be from tariffs as opposed to vehicles with more domestic content, like SUVs and
pick-ups.
    So, drill baby, drill. And burn, baby, burn.

I just got my first issue of Hemmings' Motor News. I'd been getting their Classic Car, glossy magazine that highlighted noteworthy classics in color and expansive words. I enjoyed and appreciated reading about how the cars were maintained, restored and driven as well as meeting their owners and sharing their enjoyment and appreciation.

    I guess the glossy mag wasn't doing well, so they rolled it into the Motor News, which essentially is a newsprint rag of tiny classified-ads for cars their well-off owners want to sell. But I'm not in the market for a classic car. I hardly can afford the magazines. So I don't need my nose rubbed in the ads for six-figure Sunbeam Tigers like the one I paid a grand for 50 years ago, or the  '62 Impala I paid $350 for that now commands a higher price than the new car I bought a decade ago.

    So I'm going to ask them to cancel and send me the refund they offered when they shut down the mag I actually chose to read. And when I win the lottery, I'll subscribe while looking for a new toy.

    Not that I play the lottery. 

I’ve bashed NASCAR enough, I figure. They must be doing something right. It is admittedly the most popular motorsport in America today.
    Still, in the midst of their effort to stay on the air while it rained on Daytona, postponing the 500 for hours, I was happy to watch supercross on NBC while Fox showed last year’s race.
    But I swear, every time I switched over to Fox to see if the rain had let up, it was another feature, another ad, another segment telling us all how great NASCAR is, how it’s one step below the church and how it’s as patriotic as the Lincoln Memorial.
    Enough. Frankly, this is the sort of stuff that gets beyond tiresome. And I would have been watching supercross even if it had been sunny and hot in central Florida.

My current project is a novel about a girl who gets to play goal against boys. I had to make sure that still was legal.
    And yes, legal. I can’t believe what “orders” are being passed in the name of freedom. 
    Yeah, freedom.
    And I’m okay. We didn’t rule that this particular delicate flower wouldn’t need to be protected from slapshots.

In the meantime, if you’d like to consider my take on another subject that’s made sports bigger than sports, consider my latest “growd-up” novel, Nathan’s Journal. In it, Nathan confronts the traumatic brain-injury he’s suffered playing high school football. Go to www.thomring.com to check it out. Order through the website for free shipping.

So I went to enter my latest novel, Nathan’s Journal, in the 2025 Next Generation Indie Book Awards competition – again, as I learned upon entering their website. 
    That would have been embarrassing, but I suppose “better twice than not at all.” 

I dunno, but it seems to me that heads of media companies shouldn’t be guests of politicians getting sworn in to the presidency. You know, objectivity and all that.
    But these folks do beg the question for me of how much money you need to have before you don’t have to sell out anymore. That an open question whether you believe the folks in question sold out with adopting DEI or with rejecting it now as evil.
    Oh, and I got a kick out of being lectured by Whats-His-Facebook about masculinity.

I like watching sports, to state the obvious. These days, though, I don’t really root for anyone. I just like watching sports.
    I’ve always enjoyed watching college football. I might not know any of the players, but that didn’t matter. In fact, I’d just as soon go watch a second-tier school (“Football-Championship” level) like Bryant near me in Rhode Island as I would a “Football-Bowls” level team on TV.
    Still, ‘tis the season. I was watching Washington State recently, and they mentioned how the quarterback for the Cougars had transferred – from Bryant. Seems every top college player has transferred, perhaps twice, from one college to another.  Reportedly bowl-level schools have been trolling for “Football-Championship” players, offering a venue where they can sell their “names, images and likenesses.”
    I wondered how they managed their courses of study. No I didn’t, but that led me to recall when the announcers would tell you what a player’s major was. Haven’t heard that in a while. Do these players even go to class? Do they live on campus? Or do they rent nice apartments with their “NIL” money.
    Frankly, I don’t see their connection to the logo on their helmets. To me, it’s just more professional football – but with the schools as the teams’ mascots.

When I wrote Nathan’s Journal, I wanted to get to know him and share his experience as a victim of traumatic-brain injury. My focus was on the TBI and Nathan’s story as he struggled to overcome the challenges of TBI.
    I chose football as the vehicle for the injury he suffers because I played football myself and  as an employment specialist worked with athletes facing the same challenges. 
    This football season, however, has made very real the likelihood of more young athletes facing the same fate. Recently a player in Massachusetts collapsed on the sidelines after a hard tackle and succumbed to the injury. And this hardly is the only story of a TBI-injury suffered playing football – in West Virginia ad Alabama, to name two.
I have two grandsons who are into sports. One plays hockey, the other wrestles. Either of them would make a good footballer.  I’m glad they don’t play football.