Rochelle Campbell's Blog: The NoteBook Blogairy, page 5

Need a Nudge? Here’s a few.

You know when you’re sick of facing the same sh** each and every day?  Not speaking of people and situations, I’m speaking of your own internal (read: mental) garbage that traps inside of a limited (read: tunnel vision) view of the world and how it works?

But, wait — you may say.  How do you even realize that you’re sick and tired of being sick and tired?

Easy.  You have no energy.  You cannot settle on any one thing that you want to do.  You dream of doing things and then find EVERY single reason on the planet you cannot get it done now (or, ever).  A bleak outlook on life.

That’s how you know.

What am I leading up to?  Got no clue.  I just came back from vacation!

Vacation: Jamaica

 

My brain doesn’t want to write. Why? ‘Cause I’m on vacay!  So, here’s a short blog in pictures on this Writer Wednesday.

Buying sweetsop coming down off the ‘hill’ in Portmore.

 

Me at the top of the ‘hill’. Altitude? 1,000 feet about sea level. In Portmore Jamaica in St. Catherine.

 

Breakfast after the major accomplishment of climbing the hill! Ackee and saltfish with ground food and boiled green bananas.

 

We stayed at Callie’s Beach House in Port Henderson, right outside of Kingston. Hurricane Ivan came several years ago and this resort had to put up a bulkhead to protect their property from the encroaching Caribbean Sea.

 

The steep road heading down towards the sea in Portland Jamaica near Port Antonio.

Short Reads: Jack, Some Cows, a Giant and, Oh, yeah…a Beanstalk

Last week, Chuck Wendig (@ChuckWendig) posted a writing challenge where, if you so chose, you could randomly pick two sub-genres and write a story.  You should have seen these sub-genres!!!  Man…bodice-ripper, heist/caper, time travel, comic fantasy, fairy tale, etc.  You get the point right?  Not the easiest of topics to fit nicely into a story!  (If you want to see the post, here it is.)

Okay, sure.  I was supposed to post my story by NOON Fri, 8/12/16.  Clearly, I did not do that but I wanted to share my post with you guys anyway.  If you feel like it, leave me a comment below about what you think of it.

Thanks for running this challenge Chuck!

***

Jack, Some Cows, a Giant and, Oh yeah…a Beanstalk

By Rochelle Campbell

Jack and his mother lived on Mother Gaston Boulevard and Pitkin Avenue.  They had a blind cat named Milky-white and lived above a bakery.

One Wednesday after school, Jack was sitting at the kitchen table eating day-old donuts from the bakery below them.

“Man, Momma,” Jack said, between bites.  “We never catch a break!  We can’t even afford fresh donuts.”

Jack’s mother wrung her wrinkled hands and just looked at him.  She was older than most mothers as she had waited for better circumstances before conceiving a child.  When that didn’t happen, she and her husband adopted a teen-aged Jack.  Jack’s father didn’t like the instant family and left.

“Child, it will all get better soon,” his mother soothed.  She came to stand beside him.  She was barely four inches taller than Jack in his seated position.

“Momma, you say that every single time,” he shied away from her calloused hands as she reached for his woolly afro.  “Leave the ‘fro, Ma.  I just picked it out.”  He pulled out his cow dog whistle and flipped it around with one hand.

Stung, she drew her hand back quickly.  Her faded eyes had a light blue rim around the dark irises.  Her walnut colored face was compassionate but lined with age and hard labor.  “I was jus’ tryin’ ta help.  You playing with that damn whistle again.  Usually means you’re upset ‘bout something.”

Jack looked up at her eyes widened; he quickly put the whistle away.  “I know Momma.  I just get so frustrated, you know?  I want things to be better for us both but I’m afraid that – “

A loud noise drew their attention to the window.  Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her down to the floor.  Another loud CRACK filled the air.  They heard glass tinkle and fall to the floor.

They laid low for what seemed like ages when in reality it was only for seven minutes.  They heard the sirens of both the cops and an ambulance in the far distance racing towards them.  The closer the sirens came the better Jack felt.  The emergency vehicles stopped right below their third floor window.

Milky-white sauntered up to them and brushed his white and light grey head against their clenched fists.

“Not now, MW!  We’ll pet you later,” Jack shooed the cat away while helping his mother to her feet.

They tip-toed over to the living room window and peeked through the slit in the heavy maroon curtains both wondering what they would see.

Jack’s mouth dropped open as did her mother’s.  Down on the street below was full-sized pickup truck with a turned over trailer that had busted open.  On the street were four black and white cows lying motionless.  One cow had blood leaking from its head.  Another’s leg was at an unnatural angle to its body with a bloody snout.  The other two twitched and shivered near the mouth of the trailer with stakes of metal protruding from their flanks.

“Lord Sakes!  What in heaven’s name…”

The cops were across the street talking to a dazed looking man in denim overalls with a straw hat perched on his head.  The countrified dude was sitting on the curb staring at the cows with tears streaming down his face.  He was clearly ignoring the cop speaking to him.

“Momma…is you seeing this, too?”

“I see cows, Jack.  Dead cows.”

“They might not all be dead – yet.”

“Jack, didn’t I tell you never to lie?”

“Momma!”

“I’ve been on a farm a time or two, so’s I know what a dead cow looks like. Jus’ like these here.”

As she was speaking, an uncomfortable feeling began to permeate Jack’s awareness.  He felt as if the man in the overalls was looking up at him.   Jack turned from her and looked down.  The man, indeed, was looking up directly at him.

Jack’s heart slammed against his chest.  He knew he needed to be downstairs somewhere close to the farmer dude.  Why?  He couldn’t fathom a why.  He just knew he needed to leave their cramped one bedroom apartment.

“Momma, I’ll be right back.  I need to check something real quick.”

“Child – no!  You git back here,” she hissed after him.

But he was already out of their front door and heading downstairs holding his breath in the musty, pee-soaked dank stairwell.  He let the breath go as he opened the front door to the building right next to the bakery.

As soon as Jack opened the door, the denim-clad man raised his aquamarine eyes and met Jack’s dark stare.  Jack felt a zing of recognition but knew he had never met this man before.  The odd déjà vu continued as Jack’s feet took him inexorably closer and closer to the man and the cop.

The cop had turned around to see what had arrested the man’s attention.  Upon seeing the skinny tall Black kid in the ubiquitous uniform of jeans, T-shirt, fancy sneakers with a medium-sized uneven afro, the cop’s brow furrowed.  The cop turned back around, looked at the farmer’s pale sun-burned skin then back at the dark-skinned youth.  He took a step back as his head swiveled back and forth between the two.

Jack stopped five feet from the cop.  He didn’t look at the man in dark blue.  Jack only had eyes for the man he couldn’t help feeling he knew.

“S’up, man.  Sorry ‘bout your cows.  What you doing around here anyway?”

The man didn’t blink in surprise.  He didn’t move a muscle.  He answered simply, “I was coming to see you.”

“Excuse me, Sir.  Do you know this young man?” The cop asked, confusion coloring his tone and face.

“Indeed I do.  He’s Jack – Jack Mackenzie.  Isn’t that right, boy?”  The man’s eyes grew hard as flint and narrowed as he saw Jack’s reaction.

“Don’t call me that!  I don’t know you, Man!”

“So, how do I know you?  And your mother?  She’s still up there looking down at us.  Worrying about the cows.  You should tell her.  She’s wrong.  You’re right.  Only two are dead.  Bessie and LuLu.  They’re goners.  Lucy and Mavis are just stunned.  Good thing for you, too.”

Jack’s brow couldn’t get further into his hairline.  “What you talkin’ ‘bout?!  I ain’t never seen a cow in real life before let alone in the middle of the hood dead on the street!  You talking crazy talk, Mr. Knox!”

He stilled and so did the cop.

“Son, how did you know this man’s name?”

How had he known?

The older man got up and dusted off his bum.  “Officer, unless you need something else, I think I’m fine now.  If you and your fellow officers can help get the cows back in the truck…”

“But sir, your truck is still overturned.”

“Is it?”

They all turned around and the dusty beige truck was right side up and no longer dented.  The cows were still all lying in the street.

The cop’s eyes bulged and he passed a hand over his face.  He took out a white handkerchief from one of his many pockets, lifted his hat and mopped his bald head dried his forehead of the moisture he found there, as well.

“Mr. Knox, we’ll do our best to get the cows up on the flatbed but we may need to call the fire department and their lifting apparatus to help with that.  Those animals are massive.”

“You do whatever is necessary.  But, I think you, your fellow officers and the EMT gentlemen can get a few cows in the truck.  Don’t ya think?”

With a pointed stare, the cop turned on his heel and walked woodenly to his patrol car reached in for the radio and began speaking into it.  He made no moves towards the cows, nor did he turn back around and look at either Jack, or Knox.

Jack took this in without saying a word.  He looked around and noticed that there were very few people about.  In fact, he saw only two other people.  This surreal scene was not being witnessed!  Jack shook his head, rubbed his eyes and looked around again.  Even the two guys were no longer anywhere to be seen.  It was only him, Knox, the three cops and the two EMT guys.  He couldn’t stall anymore and he turned to the man he had been avoiding and the question he knew he needed to ask burned a hole in his mind.

“So what is this all about?  Who – no, what are you?”

“I’ve got a gift for you, Jack,” Knox began digging in his pockets.  “I’ve been looking for your kin for a long time.  Your folks had me promise to deliver this to you ages ago, but time slipped away from me and ‘fore you know it, it was 2016.  But, here I am anyway.  Better late than never right?”

Jack took a few steps back knowing he did not want whatever this man, who most likely was not mortal, had to give him.

“See, Jack.  You can backpedal all you want but I will make my delivery.  It’s what I came to do.”

Jack turned to run and the world slowed down and time slowed down like he was mired in molasses.

Knox reached out in extreme stop action-like motion and touched Jack’s shoulder lightly.

Jack opened his mouth wide to yell but only thick oval waves of molasses-thickened sound came out.  In a moment, the world sped up and did a dizzying 360 turn.  Jack came back to regular reality with a jerk and whirled around to face Knox.  In the process, Jack noted the trees, the wide open fields, the low wooden fence, dozens of cows – brown, white and black ones – milling about the fields.  Far in the distance on his left he noticed a red barn and a windmill spinning idly in the light spring zephyr.  The yellow sundried wild grasses swayed in the wind as Jack stumbled forward falling to his knees as his eyes widened and he took in the pastoral rural scene before him.  He finally looked directly at Knox and said in a strangely calm tone, “Who are you?”

Knox looked away from Jack, plucked a piece of the grass and stuck it in his mouth.  “Funny thing about time; it’s maddeningly fluid, isn’t it?  One minute, you’re stealing a goose, a golden harp and a bag of gold, then the next you’re in a Brooklyn neighborhood hundreds of years later wondering what the heck just happened,” he paused, looked back at Jack and shined a mirthless toothy grin at him.  “Or, maybe it was the other way around. Right, Jack?  ‘Member that beanstalk over yonder?” Knox used his head to point towards the north.

Jack turned slowly, forcing himself to take more complete breaths that would not leave him so light headed.  He blinked rapidly against the glare of the late afternoon sun.  That’s when he saw it.  It was dark green and thick.  Thicker than anything he had ever seen.  It was as thick as a one hundred year old tree trunk.  Dried brown vines seemed to embed themselves into the trunk of the beanstalk.  It was massive, beautiful and terrifying.  It was an impossibility that somehow was a reality.

Picture on Brittany Jones-Cooper’s website. Image from Yahoo Travel.

Jack couldn’t help himself.  His eyes rose and continued to rise until they saw the beanstalk disappear amongst the clouds high up in the sky.  A shiver ran down his spine.  Knowingness came unbidden.  He dropped his head and refused to look at the man behind him.

“That’s right, Jack.  You know who I am now, doncha?”

“How long have you been chasing me?”

“The real question was how did you manage to steal my cow dog whistle?  It was so well hidden; so small.  How did you know what it was?  What it could do?”

Jack gulped hard.  There was no way he was going to tell Knox the Giant the harp had told him.  He just blinked hard a few times and tried not to sweat in the high noon sun.

Knox stepped closer to him; grabbed him by the arms and shook until Jack’s mind felt like scrambled eggs.  He shoved him away hard.

Jack fell backward and landed flat on his bum.

Knox went through Jack’s pockets and plucked out the whistle.  “There she is.  My sweet ticket back to my old home; the one you tossed me out of when I followed you.  Not sure why you brought us here but, you can have at it.  I ain’t taking you back.  I’m curious.  How did you travel here without blowing the whistle?”

Knox backed five feet away, put the slim silver whistle to his mouth and blew.  The air turned wavy and thick like molasses once more.  In a few seconds, Knox was gone.

Jack sat up and looked around him and smiled.  The harp had also taught him how to transfer the time walking properties directly into his body.  The whistle probably had only two or three travel jaunts left in it.

He got up slowly and walked to the barn with a smile on his face.  He was looking forward to seeing Milky-white, his prize-winning cow.  After selling the original Milky-white to get the magic beans, Jack had always kept a cow that looked similar.  Having an MW in his life was his lucky charm, or so he believed.  Furrowing his brow, Jack wondered if he should go back and get his mother now, or wait until the sun went down.  It would be easier to explain when it all when she couldn’t see that their surroundings had completely changed.  He would have the whole night to try and make her understand who he was, and what he could do.

Jack pulled open the barn doors and paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimness.  With a broad smile, he stepped inside and shrieked.  Knox was sitting on a bale of hay but he had transformed into his original form.  The Giant raised a hand in greeting.

“I was thinking about how we got here and why you would bring us here,” the Giant rasped in his deep gravel-filled voice.  “Then, I realized this damn harp musta told you all of my secrets, including about the whistle.”  The Giant put a hand behind the bale of hay and pulled out the golden harp.

“Noo!  Save me, Jack!  Save me!!”

Jack took a step forward and stopped short when he saw what was in the Giant’s other hand.”

“That’s right.  Look into her eyes.”

Jack stared into the double black iris-less eyes of a sawed off shot gun.

“Hasta la vista, baby.”  And, Knox pulled the trigger.

# # #

Developing One’s Writing Voice

For the past few months, I’ve been speaking with writer friends, reading about how other’s find their writing voices, and have been ruminating on this topic in quiet moments.  With all of this, what have I come to?

Finding one’s writing voice is intensely personalized.  No one way works for each and every writer.  Each writer must find his, or her, own way over whatever time period that the process takes.

For me, the process involves finding my true self, the self buried under the foolishness and mundane layers of social propriety.  Yeah, the real me!  LOL. (Scary!)

What I’ve found is that I like to write different things at different times.  I would not self-identify as only a “horror” writer, or only a “SciFi” writer, or a “women’s fiction” writer.  I would say I am a writer moved to write about different life experiences.

I’m finding my voice by writing different things, by trying different genres and seeing how it feels as I complete these projects.  With some projects I love the way I feel as I am writing.  With other projects, I absolutely abhor what I write and the emotional pulses as I write repulse me.  These are all signs to me that I never really paid attention to before.  I just wrote.  Now, I am writing to find out what I really want and like to write.  This is probably something I should have figured out before but I was told we could write anything we want to write.  We’re writers, after all.  True.  But each of us has our own personal writing path/journey.  I guess I am clarifying what my path is right now.  It’s my time.

I like Voltaire’s quote.  It comforts me.  And, most importantly, I find it to be true.  My writing voice reflects where I am at that moment in time.

What has your journey been?  How have you found your writing voice?

Bleeding on the Page

It’s been a while since I’ve posted.  And, there’s a lot going on good stuff, mainly.  My day job’s been quite busy.  My children are growing up but still needing time and attention.  (Gee, imagine that.  They still need a mom…)  And, to boot, I added in some fun work in mid-April — curating the Horror Writers Association Twitter feed.  I am one of the contributors.

Did I mention that my New Year’s goal for 2016 was to write a new short story each month?  Oh, and then try to submit a story, or two, each month?  (Not necessarily the one just written.  I do have quite a few stories written from previous times that I NEVER did anything with; except write them.)

So, I’m in the middle of all of this.  Hubby just keeps watching me and asking if I’m alright.  As well he should!

Going along now for several months and my writing goal is going as planned.  But in April, I hit a snag.  Yes, that’s when I took on a bit of extra fun work and I had to get used to fitting in the work curating entailed.  That took a few weeks but then all of a sudden it was PitDark (May 12, 2016)!  I had only a few days to prepare.  It crept up on me.  And that’s when the big wham-o happened.

What the heck was I doing writing a graphic horror novel?!  (This thought comes fully two years after it’s written; 102K+ words.)  Shocker to my system, I tell ya.  You think you know yourself and then — oops, you don’t.

Somehow, this book poured out of me and characters were born (a few died, of course).  An awesome book cover is all in place and I’m feeling like a skittish bride — right before PitDark.  You could say it was classic cold feet as it was my first online pitchfest.  You could say it was fear of rejection.  You could say it was regret at not having written say, a romantic comedy.  You could.  What do I say?  I dunno.

I ignored the sensations, prepped my tweets in advance.  Had writer friends peek at them.  I revised them.  Took the day off so I could focus on the tweets and possibly revise my tweets as the day went on (as advised by many experienced pitchfest attendees/hosts).  I was as prepped as possible.  And what happened?  I received one ‘official’ like late in the day after having held my breath ALL day.  Imagine my exultation at knowing someone out there in publishing wanted to take a gander at my full MS!  Wahoo!  I happydanced until my heart felt it would burst (all of 30 seconds).  Then, I got to work submitting my book the proper way.  It took me a couple hours to get it all done.  Now, for the hard part — the waiting for a response.  I’m still waiting.  LOL.  That’s publishing folks.

During this time, I re-focused back on my short stories and wrote two new stories in May and increased my stories in submission by 3.  Total stories in submission right now is just under 10.

Even with all of this activity, there’s a thing still happening with me.  What’s that thing?  The question of what kind of writer am I.  I researched and talked to some writing friends and researched some more.  The most helpful article I found is this one by Holly Lisle:

Ten Steps to Finding Your Writing Voice

There are many pieces out there but this one resonated with me especially because it suggested I create lists — I love lists![image error] — More importantly, you’re supposed to play games with your lists.  How frickin’ cool is that?  (Yes, yes.  Nerdy writer.)

Feeling some kind of way about having hit this particular wall so many years into my writing career.  I definitely thought I had my ‘voice’ down pat.  It seems I didn’t, don’t.  This is the underlying discomfort I had surrounding the horror novel.

But, here’s the thing.  That novel?  It came so easily!  The voice, the characters, the plotting, the plot shifts — it all flowed so well.  Some of it scared me out of my wits.  It’s supposed to — it’s a horror novel.  But, I didn’t think about it, I just wrote.  I was also pregnant with my third child during the majority of the writing of that story.  Maybe that freed me up and allowed the story out.

Now, I am past postpartum emotions.  I’m back to ‘me’ again.  And, herein lies the problem.  I’m back to me.  The horror novel?  I did what Hemingway suggested.  I sat at my laptop and bled a little.  Maybe, more than a little.  While pregnant, it didn’t bother me.  Now, not pregnant.  It bothers me — a lot.

It seems I played it ‘safe’ with my stories and my readers.  Without getting pregnant again, how do I bleed onto the pages?  That’s the question.  Working through it.  Will let you know when I come out the other side…

 

 

1st Darker Literature PitchFest: #PitDark – Thurs, May 12

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I am supremely excited about #PitDark — the first ever Twitter pitch fest for dark literature (horror, psychological thrillers, mysteries with a dark edge, etc.).

When is it happening? Thursday, May 12, 2016 from 8:00 am to 8:00 pm EDT

Set your calendars!  Polish those full-length novel manuscripts (no, short stories)! And get those tweets ready!  Only 1 tweet per hour, please.

There’s a very exciting lineup of literary agents and book publishers that will virtually attend seeking new manuscripts.  Yours could be one of them!

For more information, check out Jason Huebinger’s page for all the deets (including the hashtags for you to use for your specific genre).

http://jasonhuebinger.com/pitdark/

 

G.J. Cox: The Alphas’ Bliss Giveaway + $15 GC!

Will Bliss accept her new mates before it’s too late?

=========================

Enter to win a $15 Gift Card or a Print Copy from G.J. Cox



The Alphas’ Bliss
by G.J. Cox
 
Tome Tender’s rating: 4.5 stars


Publication Date: February 28, 2016

Publisher: G.J. Cox

ISBN-13: 9781523815326

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Print Length: 294 pages

Available from | ARe | Smashwords | Createspace (print) | Amazon | Barnes & Noble

TOME TENDER’S
  
Micha, King of the Vampires and Devin, Leader of the Wolves, are two

alphas who must learn to share one mate. They will also need to work

together to convince said Mate to accept them both while trying to keep

her safe and alive from a pack of rogue wolves who are dead set on

capturing and killing her.



Bliss has lived most of her life thinking she was half human and

half vampire. She soon finds out that she’s also part wolf and the mate

of the Lead Alpha of the Wolves. News not so well received. While she’s

dealing with all these new changes in her life, a rogue pack of wolves

is also out to capture her and kill her for unknown reasons.



Will she accept her mates in time for them to help her through her

vampire/wolf transition? Will her mates be able to keep her safe from

the threat of the wolves?  

=========================
Tome Tender’s Review of… 
 The Alphas’ Bliss by G.J. Cox

Bliss was destined to be the King of the Vampire’s mate. As a half human/half vampire, she was trained to be his submissive, but is that what he really wanted? Micha was a reluctant mate, but duty and fate guided his path. How could he convince the shy and timid woman he was not the monster she had been told? Her vampire transition was coming and she would need him in more ways than she knew.

Then it happened, a night out, and a stranger came up to Bliss as if he owned her and he smelled good, too good. Devin was no ordinary man, he was the Alpha Leader of ALL wolves, every bit as powerful as Micha. Have the Fates been bored? Did they need to kick up a little supernatural excitement? Is it possible that this innocent woman could be the fated mate of both rulers of their kind? Bliss will need them both when her blood displays another anomaly, she also is part wolf and two transitions could kill her, unless another threat to her gets her first.



Two powerful forces, two strong rulers, are they a match for Bliss or will she bring them to their knees with her sensual desires? Hottest Love Triangle ever.

Well, G.J. Cox has certainly steamed up my glasses with her supernaturally charged erotic tale, The Alphas’ Bliss ! Ms. Cox combines the sweet and tenderness of caring, the vicious protective instincts of two alphas and one timid young woman who emerges from her shell like a dragonfly in flight. A quick read that entertains and engages its readers, with enough spice to bring dry ice to a boil.

Tome Tender received this copy from the author in exchange for an honest review.

=========================

=========================



Born and raised in the bayous of South Louisiana, I’ve always loved

reading and escaping to new and wonderful places, even if just in my

head. The first story I ever wrote, ‘Riches to Rags’ was in junior high

school for a literature class and from that moment on, I was a writer.

I’ve wrote many stories over the years but didn’t actually publish

anything until 2014.Now living in the Seattle, Wa. area, I’m married to an amazingly

supportive man, who doesn’t mind doing the dishes or laundry when I’m

hard at work on a new book. We have five furry rescues, three cats, two

dogs (Rotty/Mastiff mix and Albino Great Dane) that keep us busy with

their antics and wacky personalities.

When I’m not at the 9 to 5, you’ll find me either writing ( of course!)

reading, or out exploring with the furry kids and the honey.[image error]

Feel free to reach out to me at any of my sites. I love hearing from my readers!

Author Links
Website | Goodreads | Amazon | Blog | Smashwords | Twitter | Facebook 
 

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More from G.J. Cox




     

 For more information click on Book Covers
Please Note: THE UNEXPECTED SUBMISSIVE will be available soon!
A DANGEROUS LOVE IS AVAILABLE AT TOP RETAIL SITES

=========================

G.J. Cox is offering

One Print Copy of THE ALPHAS’ BLISS (US)

&

A Grand Prize of a $15 Amazon Gift Card (INTL)

 
Ends May 2, 2016 at 11:59PM
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Ben Burgess Jr.’s: Monster ~ eBook Giveaway Blitz + Review!

He wanted more from life – but he didn’t know how to get it

================================

Ben Burgess Jr. has FIVE eCopies & FIVE Print Copies up for grabs
================================

Monster
by Ben Burgess Jr.
 
Tome Tender Rating: 5 stars – Must Read
 
Publisher: Wasteland Press
Publication Date: December 16, 2013
ISBN-10: 0988374501
ISBN-13: 978-0988374508
Genre: Urban Fiction | Erotic
Paperback: 282 pages
Available from: Amazon |

Barnes & Noble



Tormented while growing

up for being dark-skinned, and the son of a womanizer who deserts his

family regularly, Ken Ferguson longed for that feeling of being loved.

Ken promised himself that he wouldn’t be a manipulating, deceitful man

like his father, but after being cheated on and dumped by the girl he

thought he would one day marry, he begins his transformation. Fueled by

anger, and tired of being the “nice guy”, Ken drowns himself in

one-night stands, threesomes, affairs with married women, and sleeping

with one conquest after another. He adopts the philosophy of having no

commitment and no attachments, but meets his match with Ashley, a girl

that makes him want to stop his promiscuous ways. But Ashley turns out

to do even more damage to his ego and his heart, wounding him deeply.

With his philosophy reinforced, Ken spirals out of control and becomes a

MONSTER. Sleeping with and mistreating random women he meets at bars

and clubs, Ken uses sex to forget about his insecurities, his anger, and

his sadness. Will Ken learn to let go of his heartbreaks, or will he be

consumed by them and continue to be a MONSTER?

================================

Tome Tender’s Review of…
 Monster by Ben Burgess Jr.

Can you name the types of people who are monsters in your mind? Some are born into conditions that breed anti-social behavior, some vow never to repeat the sins of their fathers, but heartbreak becomes their excuse to become a womanizing, sex-driven abuser of the worst kind. That is the kind of monster Ken has become as he spirals into the darkness of wanting more out of life and not knowing how to get it. Sure, he lives in a tough neighborhood where any softness makes one a target. He has his own group, complete with the false machismo young men strut in a world where how much sex you have is the mark of “being a man.” How far will Ken go in degrading himself and the women he uses? He has vowed to be the one to walk away from a one-night stand and never give his heart away, again. He has become the Master of his Universe, but little does he see his Universe is becoming smaller and smaller until he is the only one left within its borders. His minions and his stable of sex-partners have moved on, grown up and learned what the meaning of being a man is. Will it magnify his insecurities or open his eyes to the shame of weakness?

Ben Burgess Jr. has created a character that stumbles, falls and fails to get up, for fear of failure. It is easier for Ken to build himself into a legend in his own mind. Follow Ken through his lurid escapades, as Mr. Burgess draws a raw and stark portrait of using sex to soothe a damaged ego. The acts are graphic, they are clearly not made from love and it shows. No flowery descriptions to sigh with, each act shows how crass and hollow Ken has become and one cannot help but wish there was a way to reach this young man with so much potential.

Although written in an urban setting, focusing on a dark-skinned young man, this is more than a social statement of demographics, this is a look at the pain of a teen in crisis who finds no place to turn and attempts to create his own brand of cure. Will he discover he has more to give the world? He deserves better for himself, but first he needs to believe in himself and love, again.

Not for those who are squeamish about seeing the realities of others in stark relief, but if you are looking for a read that digs deep into the grit of life, Monster is both thought-provoking and heart-wrenching. Ben Burgess Jr. is a gifted author and he takes advantage of this with bold and confident strokes.
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I want to be more than an author. I want to help change the world for the better…





 I’m all for giving to charity and setting up community-based events to unite people of all races and genders. My philosophy is:

Ben Burgess Jr

is the author of the award-winning novels “Monster”, “Wounded”, the

poetry book “Times Have Changed and Life is Strange” and the new novel

“Love and Happiness” He is an active performer of spoken word poetry.

Ben Burgess Jr uses his love of writing to inspire and influence youth

to strive for what they believe in, and to never give up on their

dreams. His poetry book “Times Have Changed and Life is Strange” and his

novel “Monster” are currently used in schools on the lower east side of

Manhattan. Ben Burgess Jr. has a BA in Business Management and an MA

in Educational Leadership. He is the proud father of his

daughter Jaelynn and is active in trying to improve urban neighborhoods

and communities.

To learn more about Ben Burgess Jr.’s Community Events go to his website


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Gaining Gluten Free Baking Confidence

In the last several weeks, I’ve just bullied through my fear and baked muffins for breakfast.  Whether they were good (read: edible), or not, was irrelevant.

In my gluten-free journey, I have been too concerned about having the ‘perfect’ baked goods that exactly compare to gluten-based baked goods.  That is a complete fantasy of mine.  From what I’ve tasted, thus far, from GF bakeries and other home bakers of GF products, you can get close but the exact taste and texture of gluten-based baked goods is not something gluten free products can mimic perfectly.  So, I’ve stopped trying and am getting better results! (Weird, right?!)

Getting back to the matter at hand, I made GF muffins 4 days in a row using slightly different recipes each day adjusting to make it better and more palatable for the majority in my family.

The consensus on the best BASIC Gluten Free Muffins is this one:

Makes 12 muffins

1 3/4 cup Bob’s Red Mill 1-to-1 Baking Flour

1/4 cup Coconut Flour

1 tsp Xanthan Gum

2 tsp Baking Powder

1/2 tsp Baking Soda

1/2 tsp Salt

3/4 cup Vegetable Oil  OR 1/2 cup Earth Balance Margarine (softened)

1 1/4 cup granulated sugar

1 tsp almond extract

1 tsp vanilla extract

2 large eggs

1/2 cup Half-n-Half (or, your favorite milk alternative)

1 cup of your favorite seasonal fruit, berries, &/or nuts

Preheat oven 425 degrees.  Prepare muffin pan and line with cupcake liners.  Or, spray the muffin pans with gluten free cooking spray.  (Or, use a bit of Earth Balance on a paper towel to grease your muffin pans.)

Mix all of the dry ingredients together in a bowl and stir until well blended.

In the bowl of your mixer, add the margarine (or oil).  If using margarine, add sugar and mix until light and fluffy.  Then add, eggs one at a time.  After each egg, mix well until fully incorporated into the sugar margarine batter.

Add half the flour (dry ingredients) mixture to the mixing bowl.  Mix until just combined.  Add 1/2 the milk to the mixing bowl.  Mix until just combined.  Add the rest of the flour mixture.  Mix.  Then the rest of the milk.  Add the two extracts last mixing until just combined.

Now, add your favorite berries and/or fruit to the mixture. (I used blackberries and strawberries!)  If the fruit are large, cut into smaller pieces.  If you are adding nuts, add them now, as well.

Fill your prepared muffin cups to the top.  This mixture rises well.

You can sprinkle the top of your muffins with brown sugar, if you’d like.

Place muffin pans in the oven and reduce heat to 375 degrees.  Bake for 20 – 25 minutes (watch carefully!).  [Please note: Gluten Free baked products do not brown as well as gluten-based muffins.]

You can use a piece of gluten free uncooked spaghetti to check for doneness.  If the GF spaghetti comes out clean, the muffins are ready.

Let cool for 5 – 10 minutes then enjoy!

 

My Gluten-Free Journey: Finally an answer…

For those who have been following my journey navigating a gluten-free diet, I finally have an answer for you, and for me.  I do not have Celiac Disease, even though I have half of the Celiac gene (found out through a simple blood test).  What is my diagnosis?

Non-Celiac Gluten Sensitivity

What a mouthful.

I actually found out more about this condition from the Beyond Celiac website rather than the Celiac Disease Foundation website.

I will not bore you with all of the details but here is the crux of it.  Non-Celiac Gluten Sensitivity is an issue with digesting the carbohydrates (the sugars) that are found in certain foods.  And yep, you guessed it.  Some of these sugars are found in wheat, barley and rye — gluten containing foods.

When you have non-celiac gluten sensitivity, you are to look not at your intake of gluten — since that is not your real issue — you are to look at your intake of FODMAPs.  (Yeeaaah.)

What the heck is a FODMAP?  Fermentable Oligo-Di-Monosaccharides and Polyols

What that heck is that?!  I’ll make it easy on you, I’ll give you what the really smart people at Stanford Hospital and Clinics Digestive Health Center and Nutrition Services say they are:

“The FODMAPs in the diet are:

Fructose (fruits, honey, high fructose corn syrup (HFCS), etc.)
Lactose (dairy)
Fructans (wheat, garlic, onion, inulin, etc.)
Galactans (legumes such as beans, lentils, soybeans, etc.)
Polyols (sweeteners containing isomalt, mannitol, sorbitol, xylitol, stone fruits such as avocado, apricots, cherries, nectarines, peaches, plums, etc.)

FODMAPs are osmotic (means they pull water into the intestinal tract), may not be digested or absorbed well and could be fermented upon by bacteria in the intestinal tract when eaten in excess.

Symptoms of diarrhea, constipation, gas, bloating &/or cramping may occur in those who could be sensitive to the effects of FODMAPs.  A low FODMAP diet may help reduce symptoms, which will limit foods high in fructose, lactose, fructans, galactans, and polyols.”

(You can read the full report and see the chart of low and high FODMAP foods by clicking here.)

Technically, someone who has non-celiac gluten sensitivity can eat gluten as long as whatever else they eat with the gluten is a low FODMAP food — they should experience no symptoms.  However, as with everything, one must test oneself to see what your own personal food triggers are.

Some low FODMAP foods are:

Proteins: beef, chicken, deli slices, eggs, fish, lamb, pork, shellfish, turkey

Dairy: lactose free diary (any), low lactose dairy: cream cheese, half-and-half, hard cheeses (cheddar, colby, parmesan, swiss, etc.), soft cheeses (brie, feta, mozzarella, etc.), sherbet, yogurt (greek), whipped cream [Not in the can, or the tub! Whip it yourself from real whipping cream!]

Fruits and Vegetables: bananas, blueberries, carrots, kale, kiwi, honeydew, quinoa, pineapple, strawberries, tangerine, rhubarb, passionfruit, cabbage, spinach, turnips, pumpkin, parsnips, etc.

Some high FODMAP foods are:

high lactose dairy: buttermilk, chocolate, creamy/cheesy sauces, custard, ice cream, milk (cow’s, goat’s, sheep’s condensed, evaporated), soft cheeses (cottage, ricotta, etc.), sour cream

Fruits and Vegetables: apples, apricots, dried fruits, pears, plums, watermelon, papaya, canned fruit, artichokes, cauliflower, mushrooms, sugar snap peas, boysenberries, etc.

So, in a very real way, having non-celiac gluten sensitivity is worse than haing Celiac Disease because with CD all you have to do is stay away from gluten.  With Non-Celiac Gluten Sensitivity (NCGS), you have to stay away from a broad range of foods that are inherently all gluten free!!  (Arrgh.)

Lastly, how do you know if you have NCGS?  You HAVE to go through the process of being tested for Celiac Disease — DO NOT STOP EATING GLUTEN until you get tested!  Shall I repeat that? :-)

Removing gluten from your diet hampers a diagnosis because the doctors need to see what your gut (your intestines) look like while on major gluten — and not for a short period of time.  So, find yourself a good GI doctor and get tested before changing your diet around.

So, back to the beginning.  What are the symptoms of Celiac?  Check it out here.

To see all of my posts about my gluten-free journey, click here.

Have questions?  Wanna talk about it?  Post your comments, your journey, &/or your questions in the comment section below.