Today, I write a personal post called “Fukui and the Spotted Dick” on my author’s collective, Black Ink, White Paper.
Hope you enjoy,
eden
Monthly Archives: February 2012
Musical Mondays – Janis Ian (Part 2)
Welcome back to the second instalment with the incomparable Janis Ian. If you missed Part 1 which was posted last week, please read it here.
Janis’ humility is a quality I truly admire about her, especially given the incredible life she has led as a songwriter and musician who has performed all over the world from the time she was a teenager. She’s hung out in circles that included Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, and Joan Baez, just to name a few. She’s been nominated for numerous Grammys and won two of them, with her hits “Society’s Child” and “At Seventeen” inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. To say I’m in awe of her accomplishments would be an understatement.
That’s why it’s such an honor to have Janis’ support for Indies Unite for Joshua. She is donating three gift sets to include a combination of the following works.
Take a look at the wonderful variety of items for a donation of ONLY $50! I know Janis to be an incredibly gracious lady, and those who claim her prize will be extremely fortunate. Imagine having a legend like Janis Ian sending you a package in the mail!
For more details, click on each item:
Paperback copy of Society's Child—Janis' autobiography
A double CD set created to accompany Society's Child
Folk Is the New Black CD ~ Janis' latest studio CD
CD of Billie's Bones—featuring a duet with Dolly Parton
A book of poetry ~ Johnny Cash kept a copy of the original version in his home library!
A concert DVD at the Sheldon Concert Hall in St. Louis, one of the finest acoustic halls in the country.
Don’t forget to connect with Janis on her website for more of what she has to offer, including a concert tour in April. She is also recording the audio version of her autobiography Society’s Child, and continues the work for her charity, The Pearl Foundation.
You can also befriend Janis on Facebook and follow her on Twitter.
If you’d like to make a donation and claim Janis’ prize, please do it at Indies Unite for Joshua.
Finally, it wouldn’t be a true Musical Mondays post without some music, so here is Janis playing “At Seventeen” at a recent event. I absolutely love her words prior to the song—You will too.
On behalf of everyone who’s been supporting Indies Unite for Joshua, we can’t thank you enough, Janis, for your generous heart. ♥
eden
Filed under Indies Unite for Joshua, Musical Mondays
“Cancer – My Story”
You can also hear me read this story on:
Episode #23 of The Word Count podcast. The theme for this podcast is “Beating the Odds.”
This is a special Word Count Podcast dedicated to Joshua Moore, son of friend and author Maxwell Cynn. Joshua is currently fighting leukemia, and the community of authors, filmmakers, and artists have rallied to raise at least $10,000 to help the family with medical expenses. Numerous people are on board helping with the fundraiser by donating their books, services, and time.
This podcast is an example of R.B. Wood’s generosity in using his excellent show to promote the cause.
Please donate what you can at IndieGoGo: Indies Unite for Joshua, and help us spread the word.
Sincerest thanks,
eden
* * * *
Mine is but one of millions of stories about cancer. It is neither more nor less significant than any other story from a survivor or someone who’s been touched by the disease. I don’t usually share it publicly for a few reasons. Firstly, the word “survivor” carries an undertone of achievement. Metaphorically, it’s as if surviving cancer elevates one to a different status as a human being. I’m not comfortable with that, but it’s clearly my issue. I don’t downplay cancer as a formidable opponent, however, it was never an option for me not to survive. Secondly, cancer does not define me even though it was a large part of my life. Lastly, I am now cancer free and have been for almost twelve years. It’s in the past—and as with most things of my past, I’ve made my peace with it and moved on.
I share my story on a personal basis with those who are going through cancer treatment, and I do it because survivors shared their stories with me when I needed it most. I felt empowered by people who had endured so much—multiple surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation, and countless other treatments and then went on to live their lives fearlessly. For this reason, for Joshua and his family, and in support of R.B. Wood’s special Word Count Podcast, here’s my story.
* * * *
The specialist ignored my request to do a core biopsy. Instead, he did a fine needle aspiration to test for malignancy of the lump I’d found on my breast. It was a test I knew carried a high percentage of inaccuracy. I’d done my homework before I went to see him.
“Look,” he said, annoyed with my questioning him. “I can tell you right now you don’t have cancer. You have no family history of it, you’re Asian, and you’re too young.” His voice was authoritative and dismissive, implying he was doing me a favor by even performing any test. It was obvious to me that I was nothing more to him than a body part to examine. After all, he was the specialist with letters behind his name, and I was just a scared woman who knew my body. Though I considered him a heartless bastard whose practice had long outlasted his compassion, I was relieved when my test results came back showing I didn’t have cancer.
When my lump continued to grow over the next few weeks, I returned to my general practitioner and asked for a referral to a different specialist. I wanted a second opinion.
I got a young female doctor this time. She confirmed that fine needle biopsies carried a high degree of error and recommended I have surgery to remove the lump. Given its aggressive growth, she didn’t want to waste time doing additional tests. I walked out of her office slightly nervous, but relieved that I’d made the decision to have surgery. The thought of a scar didn’t appeal to me, but hell, having a third boob wasn’t going to be any more attractive.
* * * *
On the day of my surgery, my best friend, Mae, drove me to the hospital early in the morning. Everything went off as scheduled, and after the anesthesia wore off, I was moved to a private waiting room where my girlfriend was waiting. We laughed and chatted about where to go for lunch. I was starving!
The nurse who had prepped me for surgery came in with the doctor carrying some pamphlets—post-surgical care instructions, I thought, but no … they contained information about breast cancer—which I had.
The only thing I remembered hearing was the word “cancer,” and then my girlfriend’s quick intake of breath before she started crying.
It was surreal as I watched the doctor mouthing words “Cancer … metastasis … more surgery … oncology …” and other medical terms I’d never heard of at the time.
Finally, at the end of it, the nurse handed me the pamphlets and asked if I had any questions. Sure I did, I had plenty. But my friend was sobbing, and I couldn’t think straight. The questions would have to wait.
Don’t ever underestimate a hungry woman who’s just been told she has cancer, or her best friend who’s quite reserved until she gets behind the wheel. That day, we hit a hundred in a sixty-kilometer zone, barreling down one of the city’s main arteries in search of comfort food.
“I dare a cop to stop me,” Mae yelled at the top of her lungs. “I’m going to tell him you’ve just been diagnosed with cancer, and I don’t give a shit what he says!”
“No kidding,” I said, “as if he can possibly make my day any worse. I’ve got cancer for fuck’s sake!”
“Yeah, but if I get a ticket, you’re paying for it!” she screamed.
We laughed until we cried.
* * * *
From the day I was misdiagnosed until the end of my treatments, there were countless decisions to make. I can only compare it to climbing an old tree with numerous branches. Reaching the top meant I could grab my health back, but there were limitless, different ways to get there. At times, I was paralyzed for fear of making the wrong decision. In the end, I did what was right for me based on all the options I was aware of. As an active participant in my well being—knowledge gave me power.
My mother always said I hated to lose—she was right. There was no way I was losing my life to cancer.
* * * *
Some final words for Joshua
You may feel the weight of cancer on your shoulders right now, but you have hundreds of thousands, if not millions in your corner to help lighten the load.
Keep fighting, young man. I know you can do it. ♥
Related post: Cancer ~Fuck. The Hell. Off
Filed under Indies Unite for Joshua, Short Stories & Poetry
Pilate’s Key by J. Alexander Greenwood
J. Alexander Greenwood was originally interviewed for Inside the Author’s Mind last May. I read his book, Pilate’s Cross Dec. 2010 and have been bugging him for a follow-up ever since. It’s finally here – Wheee! I think Alex is an incredible writer and one of the nicest men you’d want to meet. I am always happy to give him space on my blog to promote his projects. Find out more about Pilate’s Key.
As a reminder: If you’re in the Kansas City area Feb. 23, be sure to attend a reception and presentation about Alex’s work hosted by the Kansas City Public Library! More details and RSVP link here.
* * * *
John Pilate Mystery fans, your wait is over!
The small but vocal cadre of fans asked for a follow-up to the acclaimed mystery thriller Pilate’s Cross, and author J. Alexander Greenwood delivers it with Pilate’s Key.
Since publishing the first book in 2009, Alex has enjoyed meeting with numerous Kansas City–area book clubs and had a book signing in Omaha in 2011.
“I really enjoyed hearing the likes–and dislikes–of my readers at book clubs as well as meeting new fans at the book signing at The Bookworm in Omaha,” he said. “The book clubs overwhelmingly asked me to hurry up on writing the sequel.”
The book’s popularity in Kansas City made it possible for him to be honored with a speaking engagement at the Kansas City Public Library as part of their author series.
“Anyone who knows about the incredible library system in Kansas City will recognize immediately what an honor this is for me and my books,” Alex said. “I keep pinching myself when I think about being invited!”
The Kansas City Public Library will host the author event at the Plaza Branch (4801 Main Street Kansas City, MO 64112) Feb. 23 at 6:30 p.m. The event will include a reception followed by a multimedia presentation by Alex about what inspired his novels and his life as a writer. A book signing session with Alex and award-winning book cover artist David A. Terrill is also scheduled. The Library encourages patrons RSVP for this event. Click here for the event RSVP link.
Pilate’s Key was published as an ebook in January 2012 and in paperback in February. It follows John Pilate to the sands of Key West, Florida.
Life’s A Beach for John Pilate…
On the mend from a near-death experience in the snowy Midwest, John Pilate is taking it easy on the sun-soaked beaches of Key West. Umbrella drink in hand, Pilate is writing a book and getting some much-needed therapy to deal with his imaginary friend Simon. He’s also pondering the future with his new love, Kate. Life is looking up for John Pilate…until he is drawn into a world of murder, pirates, conch fritters and smart aleck remarks from invisible men.
He has blood on his hands, a mysterious poker chip in his pocket, shadows over his shoulder and a sexy cop in his bed. John Pilate is in trouble again–and the only way out is to find the key…Pilate’s Key. (From the book jacket)
* * * *
“The word from readers is so encouraging…usually along the lines of ‘I liked the first book, but Pilate’s Key is even better.’ Better editing, snappier dialogue, the works–I take that as a high compliment,” Alex said.
Like the first book, Pilate’s Key is available on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, iBooks and wherever ebooks are sold. It’s also a print-on-demand paperback–available on Lulu now and soon from Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble and on order from your local bookstore.
Alex looks forward to future book club appearances–whether in person or via Skype.
“Technology has made it possible for me to appear at book clubs all over the world, and I’m certainly ready to do so.”
Alex won the 2011 Shelf Unbound Short Story competition for his popular story Obsidian (available on Amazon.com). Besides writing Book Three in the John Pilate series, Alex is working on a multimedia project with artist David Terrill. For more information and for book club discounts and appearances,
Connect with Alex
Email: author (at) pilatescross.com
Congratulations, Alex on your new book! Thrilled for you and can’t wait to read it, eden
Filed under Author Promotions
Musical Mondays – Janis Ian (Part 1)
On the heels of this year’s Grammys, I am SO thrilled to be featuring the multiple Grammy award-winning singer, songwriter, and author Janis Ian in the first of two posts about her. I don’t gush about many people, but as an audiophile and lover of lyrics, I am an ABSOLUTE fan! Her hit song, “At Seventeen” defined my years as a teenager—awkward, lonely, and introspective.
I’ve had the pleasure of corresponding with Janis over the past couple of weeks. She has graciously agreed to support Indies Unite for Joshua, the IndieGoGo campaign for author Maxwell Cynn’s son who is fighting leukemia. Janis’ philanthropy is well documented with her charity, The Pearl Foundation, named after her incredible mother. Given her iconic status, it is an unbelievable honor to have Janis lend her name to our fundraiser. I’d like to give a huge shout-out to poet and editor, R. Jeffreys for making the introduction.
Released in 1975, “At Seventeen” is a bittersweet commentary on teenage angst. I still have the 45 and know the lyrics by heart because I played the record over and over and actually wrote down all the words.
“At Seventeen” was nominated for five Grammys—the most any female artist had ever been nominated for at the time. It won the 1976 Grammy for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance, beating out Linda Ronstadt, Judy Collins, Olivia Newton-John and Helen Reddy. The song’s parent album, Between the Lines, also hit #1 and went platinum.
“At Seventeen” is a brilliantly composed song which is deeply personal, but the lyrics are as relevant today as they were when the song was first released. Have a listen …
Here is Janis performing “Society’s Child” when she was just sixteen years old on the Smothers Brothers Show.
“Society’s Child” rocked the nation at a time when the Supreme Court had yet to repeal the laws against interracial marriage, and when civil rights unrest was cresting. It was banned across the country by radio stations as “subversive”, a position that was later reversed when the brilliant composer and conductor Leonard Bernstein became Janis’ most vocal supporter. The song went to #1, and Janis was suddenly hanging out with Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, appearing on television shows, and getting hate mail. (Portions excerpted from Janis Ian’s website)
Both “At Seventeen” and “Society’s Child” were inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2002.
Learn More About Janis Ian
I’ll return with Janis next Monday to list the items she is generously donating for Indies Unite for Joshua. In the meantime, go to her website and see all the wonderful work she has done and continues to do—including a tour starting in April, recording an audio version of her autobiography Society’s Child, and her work for The Pearl Foundation.
You can also find Janis on Facebook and follow her on Twitter.
Thank you Janis for your amazing kindness and lending your support for Indies Unite for Joshua.
eden
Filed under Indies Unite for Joshua, Musical Mondays
100 Word Song ~ Hotel Illness
This is another entry for “100 Word Song” initiated by Lance of My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.
Rules: Write a 100-word story inspired by a song.
This week’s song is The Black Crowe’s “Hotel Illness”.
Follow Lance at @tlanceb on Twitter, and write your own story. It’s fun!
eden
* * * *
I stumbled out of the hut and on to the beach. The sun was setting, and it looked huge–bigger and more fiery than I’d ever seen it. I reached out to touch it and saw my hand push right through it. The orange and red morphed around my fingers and pulled me in. I grabbed it with my fist and ran toward it, holding it as it slowly sunk lower behind the horizon.
An incoming wave splashed my feet and up my ankles. I immediately stopped to watch the water recede. When I looked up, the giant orb had disappeared.
* * * *
Filed under Short Stories & Poetry, Writing Joint Ventures
“An Eternal Love”
Happy Valentine’s Day to all who celebrate love, and really … who doesn’t? Here’s my take on what eternal love might look like.
* * * *
The man across the table looked at me with skepticism in his eyes. I had repeated my story three times, but it was obvious he was looking for inconsistencies as he scribbled in his notepad.
“I know you think I’m crazy,” I said, “but I’ve known Emily since we were five, and there’s no other explanation for her disappearance other than what I’ve told you.”
“Miss Martin, what you’re saying is highly unusual, so we have to get the facts straight.”
I sighed—loudly. “I understand, but the story is not going to change no matter how many times I tell it. I’m tired, and I want to go home.”
He looked over at his partner who merely shrugged. I hated the whole “good cop, bad cop” routine they’d been playing for the past two hours. I was losing patience. Emily was my best friend, and I had no reason to lie about what I thought had happened to her, even if it was … highly unusual.
“Miss Martin, we all want to go home, but tell it to me once more. I promise you this will be the last time.”
* * * *
The cryptic note left for Emily’s mom read:
Dearest Mom,
Please don’t worry about me. I am well and happy and wish the same for you.
With all my love, always,
—Emily
Her mother was understandably distraught. She called me immediately after finding the note and said it was uncharacteristic of Emily to be so irresponsible, to vanish without saying a word. She would never leave like this …
Yes, but her mother didn’t know my friend the way I did. To her, Emily was the good girl who had done everything right from day one. As an only child, she had been an “A” student her entire academic life. She had always been there for her mom since her dad died when Emily was just an infant. The pressure to be the perfect daughter was not easy, and Emily had constantly wrestled with her mother’s inability to move on with her own life.
Emily was completing her master’s degree in metaphysics when she disappeared. As long as I had known her, she’d been interested in the idea of parallel universes. I had read some of her papers, and though they struck me as fascinating, my understanding of another dimension was rooted in science fiction, not science. Emily, on the other hand, believed there was something more and was determined to find it.
She hadn’t dated anyone in a long time, so I was naturally intrigued when she confided she had met someone. Over coffee one afternoon, Emily told me about the new man in her life. She described him as having hypnotic eyes, a deep voice, and charisma that had her dreaming about him almost nightly.
“I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark and mysterious about him,” she said.
Ever the cynic, I replied, “Oh, seriously, Em…”
“I know it sounds cliché, but it’s true. He’s not particularly handsome—not in the classical sense anyway, yet somehow I’m drawn to him.”
“And has he noticed you?”
“Not really, no more than any of the other students. His teaching style is not interactive. He stands behind the podium for the entire two-hour lecture, and he barely moves. He just tells us which chapters to read, and occasionally, he reads out the chapters verbatim.”
“He’s probably your type though—you like them a bit strange.”
“Ha! No, he’s not strange—he’s deadly seductive. His voice makes me think of dark chocolate—thick, delicious, and his lips, my god …”
“What does the rest of him look like?”
“… Plus he has this flawless complexion. With the auditorium lights reflecting off his skin, his face is radiant.” She took a gulp of coffee, lost in decadent thought. “Sorry, what was your question?”
I had never seen Emily so taken by a man before. “I asked what the rest of him looks like.”
“Gorgeous. He’s over six feet tall, appears in great shape, and has fierce, dark brown eyes with a hint of crimson.”
“Hmm…the way you describe him can only mean one thing.”
“What?”
“He’s a bloody vampire!”
We both doubled over laughing. It had always been a joke between us to unabashedly label men as fictional characters. Between us, we’d dated a werewolf— hairy dude with the bad teeth; a zombie—guy with the dead eyes who walked with a shuffle; and gladiator man—my last boyfriend who had the rugged looks of Russell Crowe and a temper to go with it.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Emily said. “How do you get vampire from what I’ve told you?”
“Come on, he’s hypnotizing, can stand for hours without moving, and has a flawless complexion. He must be a vampire!”
That was the last time I saw Emily. After that, we continued to exchange e-mails and phone calls, and she told me about her escalating crush on her professor. He’d invaded her thoughts so thoroughly that she awakened nightly with wet dreams, her body trembling and flushed. She even found evidence of small marks on her breasts and around her neck, which she referred to as love bites. Although this alarmed me, Emily just laughed it off, saying she couldn’t wait to go to bed every night.
I was envious hearing about the passion in her dreams! It was better than any sex I’d experienced in a long time with a real man.
We made tentative plans to get together for dinner. Emily promised she had some exciting news to share and even hinted she wanted me to meet her professor. I gathered their relationship had moved beyond her dreams. Thrilled and excited for her, I was looking forward to our dinner to find out more. When I called to confirm our date on the morning we were supposed to meet and couldn’t get a hold of her, I was concerned, but not all that worried. I sent a follow-up e-mail but received no response. It was only when Emily’s mother called a few days later that I first suspected something was wrong.
* * * *
Numb from exhaustion after the four-hour interrogation, I kicked off my shoes upon entering my apartment and threw my coat on a chair. The emotional turmoil of the past week had completely stressed me out. Emily’s mother had no idea her daughter had been seeing someone, and I was beginning to wonder about it myself. It wasn’t as if I had actually met the man. I didn’t even know his name and had nothing concrete to offer the police about him.
I brewed a cup of tea and prepared to watch the news before going to bed. I don’t recall when I fell asleep, but I awoke with a start to realize I was still on the couch with the television blaring, and my cup of tea knocked over on the coffee table.
“Shit,” I whispered, running to the kitchen to grab a dish towel.
As I pushed aside the pile of magazines to wipe the table dry, I saw an envelope peeking out beneath my latest issue of Vogue. I had not noticed it before and pulled it out. It was addressed to me in a handwriting I knew well. My heart raced as I opened it and read the note.
Dearest Amy,
You are the only person who’s ever understood my desire to know more than just what this life has to offer.
You were right about the professor. With him, I have found everlasting life … and love. Please understand I have chosen to be with him. He is the one.
Your friend forever, love,
—Emily
The bittersweet pang of loss swept over me. Emily was gone. She had found the portal to eternal love.
This story is included in a collection called HOT FLASH, now available
Filed under Short Stories & Poetry
Musical Mondays – Bonnie Raitt
I just bought tickets to see this lovely lady in concert in May. I’ve always loved her voice and her slide playing, and she’s one of the most gracious live musicians I’ve seen.
“I Will Not be Broken” summed up my past week, and it sets the tone for the coming weeks as well.
Enjoy,
eden
Filed under Musical Mondays
A GODSEND: A Love Story for Grownups
A GODSEND: A Love Story for Grownups was referred to me by friend and novelist, David Lender. I read about the authors of the book on their Amazon page and after watching their video, I knew I wanted to feature them.
Dalma Heyn and Richard Marek have written, edited, and published numerous books. This new venture is their first collaborative effort as writers. I’m sure you’ll enjoy getting to know them better.
Please give a warm welcome to Dalma Heyn and Richard Marek.
* * * *
Buy links: Amazon Barnes & Noble Apple iBookstore Kobo
In Dalma’s own words …
For years, I’ve written about women’s deepest feelings about love, sexuality, marriage, in my nonfiction books, beginning with The Erotic Silence of the American Wife, and moving on to Marriage Shock: The Transformation of Women into Wives, and then Drama Kings: The Men Who Drive Strong Women Crazy. And my husband, Richard Marek, had edited four books by James Baldwin, discovered Robert Ludlum, and published Thomas Harris, Peter Straub and Richard Condon, among many others. So when we wanted to collaborate on a love story, we had me, this woman’s advocate, filled with women’s stories in my head; and this pace master, a thriller expert….and we had to figure out how to make our skills work together, and well.
In A GODSEND: A Love Story for Grownups , we wondered: Can two busy, independent adults living on opposite coasts, both with plenty of emotional baggage; neither one using Facebook or Twitter; iPads, Match.com or even cell phones… and who have absolutely no desire for another relationship; fall in love?
And if they meet, how will they get together if, combined with their ambivalence, they don’t use social media or cellphones? This is the crucial question sticking in the quiver of The God of Love, whose career as a matchmaker is on the line unless he can prove he’s still relevant in this world of tweeters, texters and sexters who seem to do nicely without his services. His boss gives him one more chance to work his old magic and get a great love affair going…..or else he’s out of a job.
Enter Evan and Eve. Evan is an outdoorsman, car enthusiast and book anthologist who has given up on love; Eve is a former ballerina who now runs her own Vermont maple sugar farm. When an ice storm threatens to destroy Eve’s maple trees, and Evan’s ex-girlfriend, now ill, begs him to take her in, their love implodes. The God of Love is powerless to intercede. But the soul of a man and the heart of a woman are stronger even than the will of the Gods, the treachery of mortals, and the power of social media.
Richard and I had a great time collaborating, easier than we had thought—although it took us a long time to get the tone, voice and pace the way we both wanted it. I think the fact that we shared different thoughts about what make characters come alive, and how much time to spend on various parts of the novel, made our journey more fun than it would have been if we’d both come from the same literary place. We love the story, and hope readers will, too. And we welcome, most of all, readers’ thoughts and input.
Read two excerpts:
Yes, he thought, I’m ready for a woman like you, now. Everyone before Eve was a little girl; even his own sexual experience, in retrospect, felt partial; teenaged. This was a woman to contend with, a woman who needed a grown man.
He smiled down at her, and his eyes reassured her. “Let’s go,” he said.
“Let’s go,” she moaned. And together, they went.
Eve, rocked beyond joy, felt infused with an immense gratitude, a global sensation of thanks. The pleasures and successes to which she had given her life until now seemed to pale next to this feeling. She understood the price she’d paid for her art….why she’d for so long felt a nagging loss in her heart, in her bones, in her skin. It was not just a hunger for a certain kind of love; it was a need to feel part of the world, of the universe, even. It was a need for this.
* * * *
This was what she most feared in herself—in herself in relation to men, anyway; this reflexive impulse toward cookie-baking goodness, even here in her own home with a stranger. She’d boldly invited this man to visit her for the purpose of an affair, yet here she was nattering on self-consciously like a young girl being hustled off to a drive-in movie by a horny teenager. Could she not successfully play the role of the seductress without feeling as if she were about to be hurled under a train, or hurl herself under one, a la Anna Karenina?….God knows she wouldn’t call herself repressed. Yet some impulse left over from her girlhood had crept over her, something to do with proving to a man you’re virtuous. Something to do with earning love.
Congratulations, Dalma and Richard on your newest venture. May you have every success with your book!
Readers, please take this opportunity to connect with Dalma and Richard and ask them questions!
Image courtesy of Pam Barkentin Blackburn
Blog ~ Twitter ~ Amazon Author Central ~ Open Road Media
Dalma Heyn’s books, The Erotic Silence of the American Wife; Marriage Shock; and Drama Kings are published in 34 languages and have been bestsellers both here and abroad. Richard Marek spent 40 years in the publishing business, rising from a junior editor at Macmillan to President and Publisher of E.P. Dutton. During that time, he discovered Robert Ludlum, edited four books by James Baldwin, and published Thomas Harris, Peter Straub and Richard Condon, among many others. He is the author of a novel, Works of Genius.
Filed under Author Promotions
100 Word Song ~ Idioteque
This is my second time writing for “100 Word Song” initiated by Lance of My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.
Rules: Write a 100-word story inspired by a song.
This week’s song is Radiohead’s “Idioteque“.
Follow Lance at @tlanceb on Twitter, and write your own story. It’s fun!
eden
* * * *
I bang my head against the desk—twice—still numb. My lower lip curls under my front teeth, and I bite down hard and taste blood. At least one of my senses is intact.
Cramped legs, aching back, and blurred vision set in. The empty bottle of bourbon ferments inside me. I hear my name but ignore it. Instead, I paw the keyboard until my finger depresses the letter “z” and watch it fill up the screen for several lines.
“James,” she screams again. “Come to bed. You can finish your damn masterpiece tomorrow!”
I grunt and black out atop my keyboard.
* * * *
Filed under Short Stories & Poetry, Writing Joint Ventures
Musical Mondays – Robert Plant and Band of Joy
“Harm’s Swift Way” is one of the last songs written by American poet and songwriter, Townes Van Zandt before he died in 1997 at age 52.
This post is dedicated to my friend, Edda, who passed away October 30, 2011—missed, never forgotten.
” … Oh me, oh my
Who’s gonna count my time
Oh me, oh my
Who’s gonna count my time
Time will go, it never stops
Memory locked in her passing
Try, oh try to cling to her
Until she becomes everlasting …
Oh me, oh my
Who’s gonna mark my time
Oh me, oh my
Who’s gonna mark my time …”
eden
Filed under Musical Mondays
edenbaylee.wordpress.com 