 Welcome to Books, Books, Books, where we discuss reading, writing, and everything in between and beyond. I'm your host, David Dinner, coming to you from Kilauea on the island of Kauai, and on the Think Tech Live streaming network series, broadcasting from our downtown studio at Finance Factor Center at the core of downtown Honolulu. Joining me today is Wayne Moniz. Wayne needs no introduction to Maui audiences, but for those of us elsewhere, today we are having the privilege of meeting an author who is so varied in his approach and in a dizzying number of genres. He's written dramas, musicals, short stories, novels, memoirs, biography, and poetry, and I can tell you that's a lot. He was born and raised on Maui, received a BA in English and communications in 1968 from the University of Dayton, Ohio, and in 1980, he was awarded an MA in theater arts and film from UCLA. In 2005, he received the Cades Award for Literature, Hawaii's most prestigious writing prize for his body of work. His short story collection of Valley Isle Tales won him the Na Pala Pala Paokela, 2010 Reader's Choice Book of the Year. The audiobook of Under Maui Skies and Other Stories was nominated for a Grammy in 2012 in the spoken word category. Dubbed the Dean of Maui Playwrights by the Maui News, Wayne has written works that deal with people, events, and issues of Hawaii. Wayne, welcome. It's so good to have you here. And I'd like to talk about some of your work right off the bat. How about today, Under Maui Skies? Well, Under Maui Skies, everybody wants to write the great American novel and I was no exception to the rule. But my plot was I wanted to find out what genre I should write in. So I decided what I'll do is I'll write a number of short stories. And I did seven in one book of short stories. And I would find out which genre would be the best to explore in terms of the great American novel. So I, and all of these, of course, are centered on Maui for the first book. And the follow-up, I still centered on Maui, but it was also about the rest of the world, Maui in the world. So I wrote a Western adventure, a love story, a murder mystery, a war story, a sci-fi, and a ghost story. And it didn't solve the issue because I really loved all the genres and I loved writing all the short stories. And I also thought writing short stories, that would be quick to write. No, there was a lot of research and it took just as long as writing a full novel. So anyway, from that, I have chosen for today a reading from Under Maui Skies, which is the Western and it's also the title of the book. Now, in this story, what's happening is the sheriff comes to a cowboy at his campsite and tells him to watch a guy called Albert Devil to follow him because he's bringing opium from Kihei all the way up to Kula and he's going to sell it up there to this particular person. So that's basically the story and we see it from the viewpoint of the cowboy that's following the Albert Devil himself. Apoc had not been on Maui long, maybe two years. He didn't come with the cane people. Shortly after he arrived, he burned a couple of folks in Wailuku, the county seat and had to hightail it up to Kula to get away from irate clients. In Kula, Apoc bought and sold everything that could be bought and sold to cowboys and farmers including Albert's flower. Now, what Albert Devil does is he disguises the opium in flower bags to take it up on the side of mules forced up to Kula. Apoc bubbled with enthusiasm at the site of Albert Devil. Oh, so good to see you, Mr. Albert. I hope everything go well. What do you so damn cheery about, flirted Albert Devil? Well, so happy you have no problems. I ran into a Kuna on the trail but when I last saw him, he went to stop for a water break. That's his job, no problem. Good, you got the $5,000? Yeah, up in the ceiling, safe, but we have time. Why rush? Go Santos bar to celebrate as the Holy Man says, collaboration. Albert Devil growl back. What collaboration? I know exist. You never seen me before, got it? Yes, boss, Mr. Apoc tremble. And no call me boss. Yes, boss, I mean, Mr. Devil, we go to bar now. Here, I put the bags up in the ceiling for safekeeping. Apoc dragged a stool over to the opening of the ceiling. He pulled down the money from its rice bag in the attic. See, no need count. He showed him a handful of 20s. You jit me paque, you die. I'm taking my barato. Albert Devil snatched the rice bag with the 20s from Apoc's hand and stuffed the contents into an empty flower bag. He grabbed a coffee cup from the sink, scooped out two cupfuls of opium and put them into a second empty bag, popped out atop the money bag and fastened it. Here, put up there. I'll get it when we come back from Santos Bar. Ramon watched the twosome walk down the street to Santos Bar with the sacks. The vocara could see Mrs. Apoc washing down the front porch. After the men left, her cleaning frenzy moved into the kitchen. Lolo husband leave stool in the middle of, she climbed up at the trap door in the ceiling. It was a jar. Curious, she climbed up on the stool and groped about. She pulled down one of the bags of flour, stuck her finger in it and took a taste. Yuck, flour gone bad. Stupid husband, wrong place to store flour, too hot, too much humid. She pulled all the bags down. She thought of tossing them down the gulch, but her crafty thriftiness got the best of her. She'd walked down the roll and sell them to Lizzie Gomes, known for her pandus and malasadas. If Lizzie rejected the sour flour to make her sweet bread and sugar donuts, Mrs. Apoc was confident that she could at least wrangle $5 for those slightly used flour theft. Ramon watched confused as Mrs. Apoc struggled with the flour bags down to Lizzie's place. He could see them negotiating. Lizzie finally reluctantly pulled the $5 bill from her bosom. Mrs. Apoc, bill in hand, raised home beaming. Lizzie headed for the pig pens and emerged a short time later, locked the front door, jumped on the buckboard and headed to Makawao to make it in time for the social and the dance. The sun was setting as Ramon watched Mr. Apoc and Albert Devils swagger out of the tavern. As they approached, Apoc's troubled, the troubled twosome looked at each other in horror and raced toward the house. Then all hell broke loose. Exploters were hurled along with dishes and furniture. Mr. Apoc and Albert Devils almost tore the front door as they exploded out into the lawn. Like maniacs, they raced toward the Gomes place. Albert was in a fury as he dashed toward the locked front door. He raced around the back of the house where he spotted the bags draped over the pig pen fence. Then he went into shock. A trail of opium led away from the pens out to a grove of ohia trees, a tranquil setting for Lizzie's outhouse. Albert Devils opened the door and shut it just as fast from the stench that singed his nostrils. Mr. Apoc practically trying to separate the illegal powder from the barnyard dirt looked up. Albert Devils had murder in his eyes. Apoc knew he had to run and he did. With his work done and the money and drugs at the bottom of the Gomes' outhouse, Ramon galloped up the road. Dolores was home. The porch light lit to welcome him. Paors snorting drew Dolores and Sheriff Safry out to the porch. And so Ramon told the sheriff the whole story of Albert Devils as the moon peaked over Haleakala, the same moon that shines down on the just and unjust who live and die under Maui skies. That's great, Wayne. That is so funny. You know, I was especially taken with how you described to me earlier the research that you did for that book and how you found out from all the local old timers, what the stories were. I thought that was wonderful. And I listened to that book on Audible. So I really got the real reading of it. I thought it was great that way. Thank you. So let's move on to something else. And one of your special areas, in my opinion, is the account of the poetry that you write. And I'd love you to explain that to the viewers and maybe read one of yours, if you would. Yeah, I think it's the one sign of a very educated population or very intellectual one to write this kind of poetry. And sometimes we think of the early Hawaiians as not in that mode. But as we find out more and more, their mele, their songs, their poetry have to do a lot with things like kauna. Now kauna, according to Mary Pukui, is the means hidden meaning. Kauna means hidden meaning. But it's a metaphorical poem where we're describing a person but with something in nature. So for example, most women, I have written kaunas about flowers. So that would make a lot of sense. And maybe some of my relatives' males are fish, you know? So anyway, it represents something. And she says, Mary Pukui says the literal, it has a little translation that's like your body. And then the kauna is like your soul. It's the spirit that's behind the poem as well. So anyway, I think you wanna have me read a kauna maybe. Yes, and tell us something about the person that involves, because I know we talked about that. And that was really interesting. Yeah, well, in this case, the one I'll read is of my aunt, one of my closest aunts. So I've dedicated all these kaunas. I put them at the back of every book and they're dedicated to my friends, my relatives, et cetera. I tried to do all my maternal side and my paternal side and then also my friends. So, and you give this to them. A kauna is usually delivered orally to the person but in some cases, like somebody's funeral, obviously you're reading to the people that are related to the person that has passed away. So anyway, this one is called the Night Blooming Sirius. Most people have seen these growing all around the islands. They're not a typical flower of the island but they've been growing here for generations. So we've, it's become part of the landscape. The Night Blooming Sirius, ka-panini o ka-puna-ho. O special flower, your arrival foreshadowed by perfume, the summer night warm, the moon full, the splashes in the waterway, stilled. Everything sensitive to your bloom, rare magnificence, the glory of life, no matter how short, the matter how worthwhile. A double corona of yellow and white, transforming the rock wall, mottled by a million stars. And as the morning hong wan ji bells beat out slow, then fast, then faster, she starts to close, her sensual beauty gone, only memories now as we wait, wait to see her bloom again. That is a beautiful poem. I love the symbolism of that, Wayne. It's really nice. I'd love you to read a whole bunch of those but I think instead of that, we're gonna go on to the next genre. I mean, it is so clear that you enjoy writing. It's just a love of yours that's so rare in writers. I hear a lot of writers complain about their, the torture they go through to write something and there's such joy in your writing. I think it's so great. Yeah, the torture comes from getting all the measurements right when you do the covers and the theory of the book. The writing is... Trying to get it into paper, right? Trying to get it into paper. That's the hard part. I should have complained on Tech Hawaii here about that but anyway. They've heard it. Anyway, let's go to Pukoko and talk about that, how you got to write that book and something about it. I'd love to hear that. Yeah, again, back to the Great American Novel. I was finally ready to write the novel throwing aside the short stories. Arnie Kotler, who was the publisher on my first book, gave me a call and said, hey, Wayne, there's a ceremony taking place at Punchbowl for Hawaiians who fought in the American Civil War. And of course, I went, what a Hawaiian in the American Civil War? And most people have said that. So I felt that this was the perfect topic for a novel because it hadn't been explored yet or rarely and certainly not in novel form. So I did, most of the parts of it are based on actual things that happened. So it's just a matter of adding some fiction here and there to make it cohesive. So anyway, this Pukoko, Moikea Pukoko has a bad case of wonderlust. And he heads to San Francisco on a steamer and he wants to see the world and do things. And he finds out, and I found out that the Union Navy was training in San Francisco for the Civil War. And he joins up and he meets up with David Farragut down in New Orleans. He goes overland through Mexico to get to New Orleans and once he's in New Orleans then he's with the great battle of New Orleans. Anyway, he moves up river and he's shot and he falls into the river and all of this starts the great cross country adventure that he's on. Blood oozed from Moikea's arm and mixed with the river. He passed out. A stench woke him. He was being dragged and could only look back to where he had come from. He turned his head around as far as he could until pain shot through his arm and memory of its cause. He was looking at a mule's rear end upside down. Excuse me, Bessie went and farted. When she does it can raise the dead. The movement came to a stop. A black man got off the mule and walked around. A hound dog with a sad face stared at Moikea. I was fetching biscuit root and while asparagus grows thick here when I hear the gunfire. Come over and found you among the reeds pulled you out of the river. Where am I asked Moikea weekly? You's in Tensas Parish, Louisiana, just above St. Joseph. We off to Big Pond where I got me a shanty to take care of you a bit. You got a mean wound there. Was the white man taking you back to the plantation and you run? Which one you work on asked a black man? Oh shucks, too many questions for an injured man along the trail here. You just risk. Questions and answers will come in due time. Oh, by the way he had, here's my, here's Gabriel, my old hound dog. Moikea lays head back down on the Trevoy and fell asleep to the rhythmic clops of old Bessie and the painting of, and the panting of Gabriel as the journey to Big Pond continued. Time passed. We is here, Mr. Mr, by the way, what's your name? Moikea tried to shake his grogginess to answer the man's question. Moikea, how you finally answered? Looking up at a quaint shack. Sure is a funny name. Maybe your father's an Indian. Maybe your mama, she's a Negro lady. What plantation you come from? You run away like me? Oh, I'm not from any plantation. I'm a Hawaiian. Hawaiian? What's a Hawaiian? I'm from the sandwich aisles out in the Pacific Ocean. Well, I'll be. I never met me a Hawaiian before. You folks eat each other? Moikea laughed. Oh, no, no, no, we practice aloha. You know, love. My mammy tell me that all the time before she died. Son, it's all about love. Maybe she a Hawaiian. Here, let me help you inside. My shanty taint much. I found it when I run away from the massa. The black man propped Moikea up under his shoulder and lugged him in. He lit a lantern after he lay him down in his bed. I hope you don't mind if I wash you down, seeing you can't do it yourself. You muddier than a pig in a sty. The runaway slave started a small fire in the pot belly stove and soon the kettle of water was boiling. The man who pulled him from the river washed Moikea from head to foot. Moikea said, just like Jesus washed the feet of his disciples. Oh, he knows about Jesus way out there in the sandwich aisles. The missionaries brought the word. Although I still pray to the gods of my ancestors, it doesn't hurt to have all the gods praying for you. Now this part bound to hurt, I gotta clean this womb. This here's Willow Park base will heal you in no time. I promised the Lord no alcohol so I can't give you the poor the pain. So here. Moikea's eyes got heavy. Time passed quickly. He was awakened for the dinner call. Hate to wake you, Moike, but you need some fixings in your stomach. He handed him a worn plate and a mango fork and poured him coffee in a cup that has seen his days. What's this call? It's called Crappy. The white man called it Perch. You heard of it? We don't have too many fresh water lakes, but I heard about it at school. You gone to school and you a black man? I wish I'd have gone, but I worked picking cotton since I was 11. You are my gargant angel. You saved me from death and I'm most grateful. Can I call you the angel? I never considered myself an angel, but you can, that's why I give you my old hound dog named Gabriel. He's the runaway too, the chains that held him the deep scars in his neck. He just come up to the shanty out of nowhere one day and keep me upright during those first lonely nights. He, my angel. Moe Kea fell asleep too, dreaming of angels sitting on the giant basalt boulders of iao stream, their wings wifling in harmony to the soft series of splashes from miniature waterfalls in the riverbed. That is a beautiful wing. What a great story. That is a terrific book. And I would recommend to the listeners, to the viewers, I mean, to get that book. It's really good. But also what I wanna say is that you have a new book out. And I think a few words about that is in order. So tell us about it, please. Yeah, it's just an offshoot, David, of the Civil War story because the person that got me going into that direction about the story, she gave me her great-granduncle was from Hawaii and was in the American Civil War. So that was a great source to start. And then I picked up a couple of those other stories from Hawaiians that were in the Civil War. So before she passed away, Edna asked me, Edna Ellis asked me to write a biography. I had never written a biography before. And I might as well do this one too, see how this works. But anyway, it's a short biography of Edna's life. And I was happy to do it and for all her friends and family and the Elks Club in Honolulu. That's wonderful. That's wonderful. And it's called, say the name again. Kamakani Uhane, the spirit wind. Spirit wind. Yeah, that's what I wanted to get in there. So Wayne... And all these are on Amazon, by the way. I think we still have a few minutes and I'd love to listen to the way that you write and something about your writing process. I know you do a lot of research for your books and anything you wanna say about your process and how it might fit for other people. Yeah. Well, technically speaking, in the early days I would write like Woody Allen and a whole bunch of people write with the yellow tablets and write everything down. I still use the yellow tablets for research. So I jot down anything and everything. And I try to say this way, I take everything into consideration, then I kind of throw it out and whatever remains becomes part of the story or the novel, you know what I mean? I'm taking kind of too much information some days. Sure, sure. But I also make lists of... You wanted to talk a little about local color too. I know we talked about this before. And you could see in the story of Apoc, that and the sheriff and the deputy, that I use a lot of local color. It's not just another Western. In fact, it separates most Westerns from each other. You know, it's the local color that changes the Western. So a Hawaiian Western already sets it apart from all the rest of the Westerns, you know what I mean? Yeah. And then, anyway, that's part of the local color that I use there. Yeah, and I noticed in some of your, the one Western story that I read, it was very Western and it felt so authentic. It just brought back some of those days gone by that we don't see much anymore here. And it's really great. I thought that was wonderful. Sometimes a big little list of terminologies from that time period, from that place, and then insert it where it's applicable. It's a good technique. And I just think that's, it's really great to read the variety that you've written. So I also wanted to talk for a minute about your teaching experiences because you're so at ease. I can tell the way that you come across that you've had teaching experience. So tell us something about that. Would you, Wayne? Yeah. Well, I basically taught every level of education I started with doing preschool. And then, and I taught in the grade school, then I taught in the high school and I taught in the community college and I taught in the four year university at UCLA. So I've had a lots of experience with people at all kinds of levels and that certainly helps when you're teaching. That's one thing I did get a teacher of the year for Maui one year, but that was, that's a nice little tribute. But other than that, I've been a wonderful, I always loved my students, they were great. What was Maui like in your early years? You've been there a long time. And of course you've been back and forth to the mainland but you've spent a lot of time on Maui and seen some tremendous changes. I wonder what, if you could give us a taste of that. Well, that's kind of why I also started writing too because I felt that Maui was like all the other islands are going pretty fast. Yeah, the so-called progress of the islands and I could see it changing pretty fast. During the pandemic, it reminded me of the old days because I would drive along Kalmanui. I'd be the only car on there. And growing up in Maui in the 50s, that was pretty true. There was hardly any traffic and so- Well, I moved to Kauai in 2000, the year 2000. And I mean, you could drive down the main highway at nine o'clock at night and there would not be a soul on the road. And now every little town has a different night of the week where they're celebrating stuff with cars all over the place and you can't get through the traffic. And it's a different place, but still beautiful, and I love it. Yeah, true. So what are you reading nowadays? What am I reading? I'm reading books from two people that I actually know and one is called Black Inside, Virginia Kentara, who's one of my old drama students from way back when who wrote a wonderful book about her grandparents growing the Philippines during the Second World War with the invasion of the Japanese into the Philippines. And it's a hard novel. You can see Black Inside, she's black on the outside, but with the sorrow and the sadness, they can be black on the inside as well. And also Sandy Miranda's book is called Tuning In, and Sandy was a disc jockey in the Bay Area. Half of the book is, she was at the beginnings of Silicon Valley, worked for Apple and all those big companies when they first started. So we get the birth of Silicon Valley in the first half of the book. The second half is her calling, the vocation to be a great radio broadcaster and all the people that she met along the way, all the celebrities. That sounds like a great book. Well, I'm more mainstream right now. I'm listening to Ken Follett's book, The Evening and the Morning, and it's all medieval or early English Norman conflict. And it's a very long book. By the time I get to the end, I'm sure I will have completely forgotten the beginning. So, but that's the way it is. So we have just one minute left. And Wayne, I just wanna tell you what a pleasure it's been to talk to you. I got to know you a little bit before the show and you've just come across so well to me and I've learned a lot about your writing and your process and I so appreciate that. So thanks for coming on. And I'm just going to begin to close the show now I think and say that that's all the time we have today. And I wanna thank Wayne Moniz, sorry, for being my special guest, our broadcast engineer and our floor manager and Jay Fidel, our executive producer, a special mahala to our underwriters. And thank you for joining us. Books, books, books will be back in two weeks until then read, write and create your world. Thank you so much, Wayne. Sahuio. Sahuio. Thank you so much for watching Think Tech Hawaii. If you like what we do, please like us and click the subscribe button on YouTube and the follow button on Vimeo. You can also follow us on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and LinkedIn and donate to us at thinktechhawaii.com. Mahalo.