Slightly Off the Mark

Hoosier Hysterical's 10th Anniversary, Complete With Reviews!

May 1st was the 10th anniversary of the publication of Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving at All. So the theme of this blog is: no, not that, it's "reviews".

Authors often beg, and sometimes pay for, reviews of their books. (Note: I do NOT pay for reviews.) They're critically important for our success, both because they pump up our algorithms in various book seller and social media sites, and because they put the eyes of readers on your writing. Not literally. Ew.

Your review doesn't have to be as detailed as this one: A simple "I like this book", or even throwing some stars at it, helps greatly. Still, I really like this review, because, well, the reviewer thinks I'm funny. I've always said, if you can't be rich or have superpowers, be funny. Okay, I said it once.

In addition to the review, the Whatzup regional magazine also printed a 2016 article about the book's release, which you can find here:

https://whatzup.com/featured-writer-mark-r-hunter-the-writing-fireman/

Just in time for Indiana’s bicentennial comes a new history book, that compiles everything notable about our fair state through the ages into one tidy volume. Yes, it’s a book about Indiana history, but it is worth reading anyway, not just because you really should know something about the state in which you live (and in which you were probably born and raised, too) but because it’s written by Noble County native Mark R. Hunter, and he’s a pretty funny guy.

His take on Indiana history is thorough but irreverent, and even if you have to cast a skeptical eye on some of his historical claims (I honestly don’t think the prehistoric mounds in central Indiana were actually ancient outhouses), you’ll probably learn some new true facts about your state by the time you’ve finished the book.

In Hoosier Hysterical, Hunter begins almost at the very beginning of Indiana history. He doesn’t start with the Hoosier state congealing out of a mass of molten goo as the Earth’s crust solidified, but he picks up the story just a little later, when the first humans wandered into the land we know so well.

“Some of them made their way to Central America, discovered chocolate, and lived in paradise,” he writes. “Others took a wrong turn while circling Indianapolis, and boy, is that easy to do. They settled in the Midwest, imported corn from the much happier natives of Central America, and the rest is history.”

That history is the story that Hunter tells, from the settling of the eventual state by those early natives, to the later infiltration of the land by Europeans, to the centuries that the Indiana territory spent as a wilderness battleground where those Europeans fought off the natives and each other, established forts and settlements, and generally made a mess of things.

Hunter’s journey through Indiana’s history is long and detailed, but it sticks closely to the highlights you’d find in a drier, not so fun history book in school. You’ll find out about William Henry Harrison and Tecumseh and Anthony Wayne and Tippecanoe, and all those other famous names that you’ve heard about at one time or another, but can’t quite remember what it was that you were supposed to remember about them.

The book’s heavy on what happened before the state was a state, and what happened during the first hundred years that it was a state. The second hundred years, not so much. Hunter augments the history, though, with trivia—which is very closely related to history when you think about it. He gives us explanations of Indiana’s symbols (did you know Indiana has an official state rock?) and he crafts loving, if silly stories about all those Indiana things we’ve come to love by living here all our lives. He even tackles the greatest of all Hoosier mysteries, the origin of the word “Hoosier.” Of course, he doesn’t provide a convincing theory of the word’s origination (no one ever has or ever will) but at least he has fun trying.

There are also many chapters about things that make Indiana special: the Indianapolis 500, the many famous people who were born here, the movies and TV shows that were either set or filmed in Indiana, the state’s many parks and natural attractions and many other tidbits and minutiae. Did you know that the famous Coca-Cola bottle design was created in Terre Haute? Neither did I, but now we both do. These are the kinds of things that make it possible to live with even a tiny bit of pride in a state that rarely makes it to the top of the lists of really important things.

We native Hoosiers have spent our lives in a state of constant self-deprecation. We’ve had to, having been born in a state that most other Americans wouldn’t be able to find on a map.

We’ve learned how to gently mock the state of our birth while maintaining a quiet affection for a place that is actually pretty nice if you really pay attention to it. That’s a balance that Hunter holds quite well throughout Hoosier Hysterical, and the book is one more Hoosier product that we can be proud of.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re sure to find some places to review our books here, or at least buy them:

· Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

· Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

· Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

· Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

· Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

· Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

· Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

· Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

· Substack: https://substack.com/@markrhunter

· Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

· Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

Remember: Every time an author gets a review, their heart grows three sizes. More, if it’s a five star.

Roadwork? It Must be Spring in Indiana

With spring comes--that's right--road work! Since I walked right by it on my way to work, I naturally took a few pictures.

This is State Road 9, called Orange Street as it passes through Albion. Being an INDOT project, the official detour is over state and US highways, making it dozens of miles out of the way. This is why I predict lots of lost/idiot drivers on Albion streets over the next couple of months. It should be pointed out that lost drivers are not always idiots and vice versa, although plenty of intelligent people have been known to get behind the wheel and do stupid things.

They're grinding down the entire road, taking it right down to the bricks that were once the surface and, from what I've heard, removing the bricks. I have a brick from when they removed them from the Noble County Courthouse square several years ago--they're heavy and well made, as you might imagine.

Of course, I could just show you the bricks.

There are warning signs in the next friggin' state alerting drivers that the roads will be closed, but some moron will still drive around everything and try to go through. To make matters worse, we had high winds today that blew over some of the barricades--although this one's still effective in blocking people from coming out of the alley.

As I was walking past it a dust devil rose up from the gravel parking lot and hit me so hard, I thought I saw Munchkins for a second. I had to spit out some dirt and irrigate my eyes, but otherwise no harm done.

This is the first of what appears to be a three part job--and one part of that runs in front of my house. Since they've closed the road entirely, my question is: How do we get to and from home? Specifically Emily, who has to either drive or camp out at the state park for the rest of spring; as seen by the pictures, I can walk (or stay home on the laptop). The driveway I share with a neighbor is a vacated alley, and there's no back entrance. It's the street, or do some Top Gear type four-wheeling down the hill into another neighbor's yard.