Michelle L. Levigne's Blog, page 176

Jane Bondservant #12

Rewind:
Right after O told me that Dr. Noway joined my church -- and after we waited for our phones to recuperate from the feedback from my primal scream therapy -- he gave me a few details of my assignment:
Befriend Dr. Noway. Watch his every move.
“O,” I exclaimed, with my voice still a little raspy from the scream, “how in the world do you expect me to befriend my archnemesis? That’s not a rhetorical question -- I don’t know the first thing to do. Throw me a bone, would you?”
“I’m glad you asked, 777,” O said after a moment. “If you took your assignment without any further protest, without asking for help, I might have suspected you of planning on fluffing it off, or waiting for the husband-hunting women in your church to drive him away. As a matter of fact, it’ll be part of your assignment to make sure that he doesn’t get frightened away before he can set down some roots.”
“Good luck. Stronger, smarter men have fled in terror, with their hair turning white and their nerves shot. Especially when the hopeful bride-to-be carries a briefcase full of wedding plans and a blank spot to insert the groom.”
“Remind me not to attend your church without taking precautions, 777,” O responds.
“What kind of precautions, sir?”
“Fiance repellent, for one thing.”
“Has S come up with some super-nifty techno-genius toy to do that?” Considering that I had been set up for a few blind dates in the last year, I spoke with a little more personal interest.
“Something as easy as a ring, 777. In my day, young women who wanted to avoid matchmaking called it ‘traveling salesman repellent.’ But back on the subject, 777. Befriend Dr. Noway.  A good start is to generate some honest sympathy for him. He isn’t truly evil, merely a misguided genius.”
I wasn’t too sure about that label for Dr. Noway. The few times I had encountered one of his plans or tactics or deviously brilliant gizmo, I was pretty sure he knew what he was doing, and doing it by choice. But I thought about it as I went back to work and retreated to the safety and solitude of my library. And thought about how Dr. Noway would soon regret joining our church if he joined the Singles group and became the target of husand-hungry women.
"Hey," I murmured, looking up from my cataloging work with minimal papercuts on my fingertips. "I kind of do feel sorry for the guy. I might just do this assignment right after all."
Just the image of Dr. Noway struggling to survive a Singles Group event at my church did the trick -- I felt sorry for him.
But not enough to drive away the oogy shivers at the thought of being nice to someone who still worked for B.L. Zebob Industries -- even if he did say he was trying to find another job.

Off the Bookshelf: HOW SWEET IT IS

Book exchanges are great. Besides creating room on your shelf for new treasures and new authors to discover, you get to share a book that you know you won't read again (not because you don't want to, but because there just isn't enough TIME to go back) with someone who might just fall in love and make it a keeper. Everybody has different tastes.

Thank goodness. That means out there are people who love my books, along with people who like them and others -- may they be few! -- who see my name on a book cover and say, "Meh!"

HOW SWEET IT IS, by Alice Wisler, came to me through a book exchange with my ACFW chapter a year or so ago. Maybe longer. Just shows how BIG my to-be-read pile/bookshelf is. Wish I had read this charming, first person POV journey of recovery from shattered dreams and love and a car wreck and its attendant scars just a little sooner.

Deena, our heroine, is a chef -- until the story starts, working at an upscale restaurant in Atlanta. Then a car wreck and discovering her fiance had someone else in his life and an inheritance from her grandfather send her to the mountains of North Carolina. Maybe she doesn't start out searching for change, but it finds her. She learns from some unique and charming characters along the way and learns something about herself while she struggles to teach cooking to emotionally wounded children and set up her cake business. I wish I had her remote cabin in the mountains... Read the book, and visit there for a while, too. You won't say, "Meh!" to this story. Delicious, soft, and sweet. Like the white velvet cake recipe included.

Jane Bondservant #11

If I were to give a title to this week’s episode/report, it would be:SEE JANE PANIC
Last time we met, dear reader, I was -- fortunately -- outdoors when my supervisor, O, made contact. My response to learning that my nemesis, Dr. Jose Noway, was my assignment, my “current situation,” was … shall we say … less than professional.
To quote:Yes, that was my scream that sent all the birds from their perches throughout the entire county, and stopped just short of setting off the fire alarm in the school.
Primal scream therapy is, after all, a great way to clear stress compounds from the bloodstream, increase the level of oxygen in the blood and brain, and clear the sinuses.
Cue the ominous music.Cue the narrator:What will Jane do?
How can she let Dr. Noway invade her church? 
Why did Dr. Noway join her church? What can his nefarious plot BE?
Will she have to pay to wash all those cars that were bombed by frightened birds?
I didn’t have time to consider those questions. At least, not right at that moment. I had to go back to work. Which, if you really think about it, was good timing. My scream of anguish and apprehension coincided with the class change bell for sixth period, which was loud enough for the gym classes out on the baseball diamond and soccer field to hear.
So no one really noticed the noise I made.
Right after lunch, my usual job was to go back to the school library to sort through the books that have been returned. When the fiction books were in alphabetical order by author, and the other books were in order by the Dewy Decimal System, then I would go through the computer catalog and mark all the books as returned. An easy job. Almost brainless. A comforting routine. As one of my good friends who edits and publishes electronic novels says, "Easy cheesy peasy."
That left my brain free -- fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your point of view -- to contemplate the horrific news that O gave me just a little while ago.
As if it weren’t bad enough that Dr. Noway would see me at work when he dropped off his nieces for school -- now I had the added risk of seeing him, and him seeing me on Sunday morning. What if he stopped in the fellowship hall to get coffee in between the service and Sunday school time? What if -- horrors! -- Dr. Noway decided to join the Singles group?
Funny -- not funny ha-ha, but funny weirdly sad -- for a moment there, I actually felt some sympathy for Dr. Noway. Like most churches across the country, the single women of my church outnumbered the single men ten to one. Except, of course, for the single men who migrated from one church to another, looking for a wife. Just like guys don't like girls who run around with a shopping list for the "perfect husband," girls don't like it when guys use a shopping list and measuring rod, and usually have their mother or interfering aunt following them around with a magnifying glass to focus on the girls.
Should I warn Dr. Noway? Or should I just sit back and wait for the first Sadie Hawkins event to drive him screaming into the night?

Off the Bookshelf: ORTHODOXY

Whew! It's done! I survived -- at least, I think so. The jury is still out on whether I strained more than the usual number of brain cells.

ORTHODOXY, by G.K. Chesterton -- he of Father Brown mystery stories fame -- was the subject of the spring book discussion group at my church. You want to talk about brain strain? Considering it took me since January to read 155 pages ... You have to go sloooooow with this book, and at the same time, I wonder if the slowness, just a couple pages every day, didn't contribute to the feeling that an awful lot was sliding past me.

This book is over 100 years old and is considered a classic in Christian writing. I don't know if it was the age, the fact the writer was British and there might be some language problems, or what, but I had a hard time absorbing what was being said, learning, and applying. Maybe the most frustrating part was that when I did get one of those instance of insight, of, "Oh, yeah, hey, that makes sense!" it just added to my certainty that I was missing out on a treasure.

Our teacher told us that Philip Yancey reads this book over and over again. Heck, if someone as intelligent and perceptive as Yancey rereads this book, maybe I'm not so bad off, not catching onto much of anything the first time through. I'll have to read it again. I know there's a lot to learn -- a lot of guidance in apologetics, in organizing my thinking, helping me figure out what I believe and why. Just wait until the bruises have faded, okay?

5-Star Review: DIVINE KNIGHT at Long and Short Reviews

Thanks, so much, to Orchid at Long and Short Reviews, for her 5-star review of DIVINE KNIGHT, the 3rd book in the Divine's Emporium/Neighborlee, Ohio series, published by Uncial Press.


"Angela’s world is shaken when two robbers bypass the magical safeguards of the Emporium, something that should not be able to happen. When she confronts them they throw her into a painting which is a doorway to an unfriendly world. Luckily she clings to the frame and Maurice returns home from his one day a year as a normal size in time to rescue her.
"This is another stupendous book about Neighborlee. Maurice is cheeky but learning to think of others, especially librarian Holly who he has fallen in love with. Angela tries to remember her past while struggling to defend Divine’s. Behind these two important characters are the magical beings of Neighborlee. Lanie, the paraplegic newspaper editor with telekinetic abilities; the children of the Hunt who in reality are adults from another world protected by the Hounds.
"A new character to the novels is Ethan, a private investigator who has been hired to find a missing girl. His search leads him to Neighborlee but he brings chaos and evil with him. He and Angela sense there is a link between them but until the threat to Divine’s Emporium is over, neither is willing to take a step into the past.
"I love these books. They always make me feel as if I’m sitting in front of a roaring fire with a mug of hot chocolate, relaxing as I read the book. Ms Levigne has a marvelous way of showing me the world she has created and making me believe all I read. Well written and wonderful. Great book."

Thanks, Orchid, and LASR.
Looking ahead:We'll be visiting Neighborlee once again, when GATHERING, the 5th and final book in the Hunt series is published by Writers Exchange. It's time for the Hunt to go home, and Neighborlee provides the ... "launching pad" for their effort.

Jane Bondservant #10

These are the continuing adventures of Bondservant. Jane Bondservant.
My mission? You know, honestly, I'm not sure half the time..........
I learned a long time ago, the key is to keep moving, keep going, keep trying, and that's why I make ... well, slightly better than minimum wage.

But the retirement plan is OUT OF THIS WORLD.
When I last reported on the "situation" with Dr. Noway, my supervisor, O, had just made contact.

Unfortunately, the headmaster came back into the office just about then, so O had to cut communication and wait until my lunch break before he could fill me in on the "situation" that had just come to his attention.
See Jane work.See Jane keep looking at the clock.Why does the clock move so very, very slowly, Jane?Jane does not hate her job.Jane loves her job -- most of the time. But today Jane has many other things on her mind. What horrific news will O give her, when they are able to talk again?And why, oh why, did Jane have to pack a bologna and mustard sandwich and a stale granola bar for her lunch? Combining those foods with O's news would be sure to give her indigestion!
While I waited for the minute hand to slowly, excruciatingly climb around the clock to 1:30 (Yeah, I had a late lunch hour, but I kind of liked it. Most of the time. Usually going to lunch late meant my afternoon was really short. Most of the time.), I thought about my recent encounter with Dr. Jose Noway.
He certainly seemed sincere, when he asked for help in finding a new job, so he could quit working for B.L. Zebob Industries. Then again, what if he just wanted access to the job search resources that PHCA provided for families of its students? What if he had decided to downsize his nefarious schemes, and instead of destroying major defensive installations and steal life-altering information ... he just wanted to bomb some Mom-and-Pop stores and small-town businesses? Not that Parma counted as small-town, but it was a starting place.
(Yeah, that sounded a little lame to me, too, as soon as I thought of it.)
Finally my lunch break arrived. I snatched up my squashed, many-times-used paper lunch bag outside to sit on the park bench in the sunshine in front of the school. Another benefit of a late lunch hour -- no fighting over the park bench on nice, sunshiny, warm days. My mama didn't raise no fool!
"Hello, Jane." O appeared on my phone's video screen as soon as I flipped it open to call him. How does he do that? How does he appear on my computer screen the moment I think of him -- or even before I think of him? I supposes that's why O is the boss -- he can do the almost-nearly-impossible.
"What's the situation, O? I don't feel good leaving town while Dr. Noway is lurking around. He's actually sending his nieces to my school! That can't be good."
"Dr. Noway IS your situation, Jane." O paused and looked at me until I felt kind of itchy and fidgety. Mostly because I know the camera isn't that good on my phone. It makes my skin look green.
"My situation?" I was very glad I hadn't eaten my sandwich yet. Maybe once this phone call was over, I should scrounge in the drawers in the office and see if I could find some crackers -- even stale ones -- to settle my stomach.
"Dr. Noway ... brace yourself, Agent 777 ... Dr. Noway has joined your church."
Yes, that was my scream that sent all the birds from their perches throughout the entire county, and stopped just short of setting off the fire alarm in the school.

Off the Bookshelf: The Mark of Athena

Third book in the Heroes of Olympus series by Rick Riordin.

The fun continues, only there's a deadline to meet -- literally. They have to rescue Hazel's brother, Nico, before he runs out of air and dies. Even being the son of Pluto/Hades won't protect him from death. Then there's the problem with a bunch of angry Roman demigods on their tails. Seems there was a problem when some malevolent spirits took over Leo just long enough for him to turn the weapons of the Argo II on the Roman camp. NOT a good way to make friends and influence enemies....

And of course the usual problems left sitting for centuries, that the Greco-Roman gods created and never fixed. It just doesn't pay to be a demigod, you know? Percy and his allies are left once again with cleaning up after their parents -- who are having some psychological breakdowns and are incommunicado or whatever their latest excuse is.

I love this series, even when I get sarcastic. Of course, part of my attitude could be that I have to wait until this FALL for the next installment. Not fun. Write faster, dear author?

Jane Bondservant #9

When we last met, I was ruminating over the odd situation that had just ended, where Dr. Noway had come into the little Christian school where I was assigned undercover, in the library and helping in the office. My supervisor, O, appeared on my computer screen as I talked aloud, trying to gain some mental equilibrium.
For some odd reason, O claimed that he was responding to my call.
Fine, I admit I was nonplussed over what had just happened, but I wasn't so loopy that I was making calls to the upper ranks of the agency without being conscious of it!
"But I didn't call you," I said. My inane response just proved how much Dr. Noway's totally uncharacteristic actions had knocked me off balance
"Yes, you did."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
"But -- "
"Yes, you did," O said gently, but starting to sound somewhat peeved. (For those of you with teeny vocabularies, that means HACKED OFF!) "You said, 'O, I'm so confused.' So you did call me, 777."
"Well, I guess so, but I didn't mean to call you. And I certainly didn't expect you to answer."
"Get used to it, 777. We have a situation."
"You're telling me."
What is the situation?
Come back next week, for more of the continuing adventures of Bondservant. Jane Bondservant.

Off the Bookshelf: SON OF NEPTUNE

I thoroughly enjoyed reading the Percy Jackson books. This new series, expanding the "universe" of the demi-gods of Camp Half-Blood just proves that Rick Riordan knows what he's doing.

I was ready to wait until this book came out in paper, but a few weeks ago Nook had some great ebook deals, so I stocked up. (Book 3 in the series, along with Book 2 and 3 of the Kane Family Chronicles) Despite the rule I gave myself that I had to clear off a bookshelf before I could buy new ones ... Well, it's not like I bought more books to put ON the shelf, right?

SON OF NEPTUNE, Book 2 in the Heroes of Olympus, features Percy. (Book 1 featured Jason Grace, the son of Jupiter) He is not a happy camper. Literally. It seems someone has wiped his memory, although he gets flashes of memory from time to time, enough to make him sure he is NOT where he belongs. He finds himself among Roman demi-gods, a very military version of Camp Half-Blood, and it seems like everyone is out to get him. There are new friends with dark pasts and untapped powers, nasty immortals and unclear prophecies getting in the way. You just know things are not right when the augury sacrifices teddy bears to see the future. Riordan writes a fast-paced, exciting book, with some moments of snickering and cultural asides. Such as Amazon being run by ... well ... Amazons!

I'm about 50 pages into the 3rd book, MARK OF ATHENA. Can't wait to see what happens next. And of course, that's next week's book report!

Jane Bondservant #8

Fortunately for me, no one came into the office for a good long while after Dr. Noway and his inexplicably adorable nieces left. I needed some time to get my mental and emotional balance. I mean, honestly, it violated all the laws of justice and cosmic balance for a man like Dr. Noway to have innocent, huggable little girls as relatives. Unless that was some attempt by the universe to achieve balance -- because what kind of horrific catastrophe would have put those sweet, well-behaved little girls into his care?
Unless he had killed their parents, to get his hands on them, in a long-term attempt to fool my associates and superiors into believing he truly was changing -- starting with leaving B.L. Zebob Industries?
But would the little girls (and the fact I couldn't even remember their names, after Dr. Noway introduced them to me, just proved how off-kilter I had been knocked by the whole exchange) be so comfortable with him, if he had killed their parents? They held his hand. They hid behind him, and stole little glances at me, and even tugged on his arms a few times to get him to bend down so they could whisper questions to him -- and he smiled when he bent down to speak with them.
I even think he was proposing they go out for ice cream, on the way home from trying to enroll them at my school. Now, just prove to me that taking little girls out for ice cream is part of a nefarious plot to overthrow the world? Especially when he's the one who will have to pay for dentist bills later, when they overdose on sugar!
"Oh, I am so confused," I moaned.
Being alone in the school office, as I mentioned before, made it easier to vent some of my turmoil without fear of having someone -- as in the aforementioned grumpy, chauvinistic, legalistic headmaster -- asking what was wrong.
"Yes, 777, I've noticed that about you," said a voice that came from my computer.
"Who's there?" I reached for my super-stunner, and realized yet again that it had been taken away from my standard-issue equipment package because supposedly -- someone was evidently wrong, here -- I would have no need for it, working at a small Christian school. Whoever decided what equipment we needed for assignments had obviously never worked in a school of any kind.
The problem, however, was that even if I had been issued my super-stunner, I wouldn't have brought it with me. The holster for didn't go with today's outfit. I really needed to get a new one, or find a weapon I could carry in my pocket without putting unsightly bulges in my clothes.
"It's O," said the voice coming from my computer.
I walked over to the computer, grateful yet again that I was alone, because I did NOT want to have to explain this, and there was the face of my supervisor. O.
(Even though O looks like Keenan Wynne, he isn't a nasty old curmudgeon trying to take over the world by cheating nice but slightly daffy people, like in the old-style Disney movies.)