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Olympus, Indiana is the fourth book by Erma Bombeck Award-winning humorist Mike Ball.
After losing virtually all their Powers and dozing off for 1,700 years, the Greek Gods wake up in a small middle- American town. They find themselves the owner-operators of the Delphi, a musty old hotel with a locally popular bar and a (go figure) Greek Restaurant. As they struggle to regain control of the universe – or at least the lunch crowd – they can’t help re-kindling some ancient feuds.
Mike Ball takes us on a hilarious trip to a place called Olympus, Indiana, where we discover a whole new side to the dieties of antiquity, meet some new immortal beings, and learn the ultimate power of bubbles and sidewalk chalk.
Here is a sample chapter of the new book – Order yours now.
Morning in the Delphi
Zeus sat on a stool at the bar in the Delphi, leaning on one elbow. A large ceiling fan turned slowly above his head, barely moving the molasses-thick July air. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows across the room behind him, throwing the hard shadows of the empty tables onto the ancient hardwood floor. At that moment the only occupants of the bar were Zeus and a fair-sized cockroach.
Zeus rubbed the stubble of salt-and-pepper beard on his chin and watched the cockroach scamper past his coffee mug, across the top of the bar, and behind the sugar bowl. If I can just concentrate hard enough… A wave of the hand, and Blammo! Smoking cockroach-sized pile of ashes.
Zeus was not a young man, but he didn’t really look like a guy who had been around for more than seven thousand years. He was tall, and a little bit broader across the shoulders than the shots of grey in his hair and the crinkles around the eyes might suggest. He was, however, beginning to develop a very un-Godlike paunch.
I started writing this on Mother’s Day, a holiday dedicated to all the moms in the world. The way it works is that our moms give birth to us, then they do a twenty-year stretch of washing our laundry, saving us from malnutrition, and keeping us from killing or being killed by our siblings.
In return for all that, we set aside one day a year to give them a pancake breakfast, a basket of flowers, and a cheesy card. The amazing thing is, they seem to like it.
So when my son gave us a Mother’s Day FaceTime call, the apparent purpose of which was to let our granddaughter, fresh from her bath, flash Nana and Papa a full holiday moon, it was all a normal part of the plan. Then I got to thinking about how all the grandmothers of the the world fit into the lives of kids. Continue reading
I spoke at a Writers Conference in Westland, Michigan today. We had a room full of nice people who were sick of having friends and money, so they decided that they wanted to become writers.
Thanks for having me there, Andy!