Trisha Sugarek's Blog, page 105

Read my novel....FREE..."Women Outside the Walls" (part 90)

From the author:  'We are coming to the end of the story of these three brave women.  My characters became so real to me...maybe because they are real!  Fictionalized and dramatized, yes,  but these are true stories of what 'women outside the walls' are willing to endure to support their men and keep their families together.

Epilogue

Alma

In the main bar area Alma took her long time customer by the hand and walked him through the tables to one of the  VIP rooms in the back.  My last half-shift and my last customer. She sighed.  An easy one; all Jake will want is  a private dance and some conversation.  And he tips me like money is water.  She looked over her shoulder,

squeezed his hand and flashed him her mega-watt smile.

“Come with Alma, baby.  I got a new dance especially for you.”

Jake followed her with a stupid puppy smile on his ugly face.  He’s far from pretty, Alma reflected, but he‘s

polite and courteous to all the girls and the money is good…very good.  There were three VIP rooms with

lights above the doors.  Two rooms were occupied but Alma saw, by the green glowing above, that one of them was free.

She opened the door and lead Jake in.

“Ya want me to dance first, Jake or shall we talk?”

“Ah, hell Alma I had a bitch of a day and I’m tired. Let’s just have us a drink and a chat.”

“If that’s what will make you happy, honey, that’s what we’ll do.”  She said as she sauntered over to the mini-bar.

Without having to ask, she poured Jake his whiskey and water, two cubes. She poured herself a coke with a

lime that all her clients believed was a rum and coke. The customers were uncomfortable if the girls didn’t drink with them.

Jake eased into one of the deep plush chairs and sighed with relief.  He toed his loafers off and leaned back.

Alma walked back with the two glasses and set them on a side table.  She posed in front of Jake and waited.

“God, you are so beautiful, Alma.  I so look forward to seeing you and talking.”

Alma started to sit on his lap which is where she usually perched while they chatted.

“Take a load off, honey.  Sit here next to me.”  Jake patted the twin chair next to his.

“Wow.” Alma said.  “You must be tired.”

“I’m exhausted.  The corporate guys were in town last night so we were out very late.  I’m too old to be

getting’ in at half past three in the morning. Then today was filled with meeting after meeting.”

“I’m sorry, baby.  You want a massage?”

“Oh God, that would be great.” Jake sighed.

Alma got up and walked behind Jake’s chair. She gently began massaging his temples and hair line.

“Ah…” Jake sighed.  “That feels like heaven. I almost didn’t come tonight ‘cause I’ve got this bitch of a

headache and now….your fingers are chasin’ it away.”

“I’m glad, hon.”

They were quiet for several minutes. Alma slowly rubbed his temples and then began massaging his scalp.

I love this guy, she thought to herself.  This is all he ever wants and someone to talk to.  Never pressures

me for anything more.”

“Jake, honey, I got some news.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“This is my last night.”

Jake’s eyes flew open.  “What? What’d ya mean?”

“I gave Pete my notice.”

“Are ya moving away again?”

“No. Remember I told ya a few months back that I was going to school part time?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I got my license for interior design.”

“Wow, doll, you surprise me.”

As they talked Alma continued massaging Jake’s shoulders and neck.

“And I been savin’ money ‘till I get a client or two.  I got a small job already so I let Pete know this is my last night.”

“Alma, that’s terrific.  What’s the small job?”

“I’m going to stage two model homes for this contractor I know.  He just finished building two subdivisions

out north of town and he wants me to do the models.”

“Good for you, baby. What’s ‘staging’ mean exactly?” Jake asked.

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The final segment will appear Wednesday. Hope you'll return to find out what happens  to Alma and  Chelsea. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Start your month off right!! DON'T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with other best-selling AUTHORS!      A NEW SERIES, "The Writer's Corner"

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers' special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create!

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Read Read my novel....FREE..."Women Outside the Walls" (part 89)

        (continued)    Not being able to resist Stella’s seriousness, both Hattie and Kitty burst out laughing.

“Go on, chil’, Miss Kitty and me, we gots to discuss the finances of this fine house.  Go find your sister.

Lunch be ready in about an hour.”

“Okay, Mommy.” Stella turned to Kitty. “See ya later alligator.”

“After while, crocodile,” Kitty laughingly answered.

Stella ran from the room while Kitty continued to chuckle and Hattie stood shaking her head.

“Miss Kitty, if it’s convenient, I got the ledger here for the house expenses for ya’ll to look over,” Hattie told Kitty.

Kitty held out her hand for the book and Hattie pulled up a chair near her. Kitty opened the ledger and

studied it for a few minutes.

“My word, Hattie, these numbers can’t be right,” Kitty exclaimed.

Hattie leaned over and scowled at the page. “Whas’ wrong, where is my mistake? I went over the

arith-a-ma-tic three times, Miss Kitty.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean your math was wrong, Hattie.  The thing is I am quite surprised at the money you have

saved this quarter.  Can this be correct?”

Shyly and with great pride, Hattie said, ”Yes’m, we had us a good quarter.”

“You know you can save a lotta money goin’ to the Farmers’ market on Saturdays. And I buy in quantity

at the price club. It all adds up, Miss Kitty.”

“Well, you’re the first house manager and cook that I’ve ever had that tried to save me money,”

Kitty beamed at Hattie.  “I am so lucky to have you and the children here.  Edward will be home soon and I can’t

wait for him to meet the kids.”

“You still thinkin’ that Mr. Lancaster gonna be alright with us bein’ here?”

“No question in my mind.  Now, Hattie, there is something else I think you should know.”

“Whas’ that, Miss Kitty?”

“The newspaper had an article about Charles Baldwin and Joe, this morning.”

“Lord-a-mercy, what them vultures got to say now?” Hattie sighed.

“All the appeals and requests for leniency have been exhausted. Baldwin’s execution is scheduled for next week.”

“I feel sorry for Miss Alma and her chil’, Miss Kitty.  I truly do.”

“This is difficult for me to ask but I wasn’t certain if you knew your rights as the victim’s wife.  You have the right

to be there.”

“Wha’cha mean?  Be where?” Hattie asked.

“You are allowed to witness the execution.”

Hattie looked shocked.  “God in heaven!  There been enough grief around that white boy without there

bein’ an audience in his final moments.  I never heard’a such a thing!”

“I wanted to let you know that I would go with you if you wanted to be there.”

“I appreciate that Miss Kitty, but no. We moved on, that’s what Joey would’a wanted.”

“Well, then we won’t speak of it again.” Kitty paused. “Hattie, are you happy here?”

“Oh, Miss Kitty, we so happy living here with you.”  Hattie’s eyes sparkled with tears.

“When my Joe passed I was scare’t how my chil’un was goin’ to be taken care of.  And the house you gave us is

so cozy and safe and close to my kitchen.  Lordy, those projects we done lived in got to be downright dangerous.

I miss my Joe and my heart is in pieces, but yes Ma’am I am very happy here. I can’ thank ya’ll enough for all ya done.”

Kitty rose and crossed to Hattie.  She knelt down and took her rough, callused hands in hers.

“Hattie, you and the children will always have a home here. And I’m the one who’s grateful.

Your husband, ‘your Joe’, saved my life and probably the lives of others on that terrible day.  As I explained

to you before, you could live here for free. The house I gave you belongs to you.  You don’t need to work for me.”

“Oh, no, Ma’am, I needs to work.  I needs to be needed.  And carin’ for this beautiful ol’ house ain’t no work, a’tall.

I love takin’ care of it and you.”

******

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The next segment will appear Monday. Hope you'll return to find out what happens  to Alma.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Start your month off right!! DON'T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with other best-selling AUTHORS!      A NEW SERIES, "The Writer's Corner"

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers' special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To receive my posts sign up for my   Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". You need to confirm in an email from 'Writer at Play' . Thanks!

Anyone ever Heard of Robert Service?

                 Another 'word master' that I am very fond of is Robert Service.  You might ask, 'Wasn't he the guy that wrote some poem we heard in high school about 'The Shooting of Dan McGrew?'  Oh, grasshopper, that's just the tip of his brilliant iceberg.

Here's a tidbit to refresh your memory of those days long past (for some of us)

    'A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;

The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;

Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew, And watching his luck was his light-o’-love, the lady that’s known as Lou.

When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,

 There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.

He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse,

Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house. There was none could place the stranger’s face, though we search ourselves for a clue; But we drank his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew.’......

(The Best of Robert Service**Dodd, Mead & Co. Publishers)

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Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know you don't ever read poetry but if you have a spark of 'the Wild' in you, (and I know that you do) read this! You will not be sorry.  It is food for the wildness in your soul. 

'Were you ever out in the Great Alone, when the moon was awful clear’.... ..And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could hear; With only the howl of a timber wolf, and you camped there in the cold, A half-dead thing in the stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold; While high overhead, green, yellow, and red, the North Lights swept in bars?- Then you’ve a hunch what the music meant...hunger and night and the stars.

‘Can you remember your huskies all going, barking with joy and their brushes in air; ‘You in your parka, glad-eyed and glowing, Monarch, your subjects the wolf and the bear. Monarch, your kingdom unravished and gleaming; Mountains your throne, and a river your car; Crash of a bull moose to rouse you from dreaming; Forest your couch, and your candle a star. You who this faint day the High North is luring unto her vastness, taintlessly sweet; You who are steel-braced, straight-lipped, enduring, Dreadless in danger and dire in defeat; Honor the High North ever and ever, Whether she crown you, or whether she slay; Suffer her fury, cherish and love her-- He who would rule he must learn to obey.’     (Robert Service)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In my short play, "The Bard of the Yukon"  I have attempted to introduce Robert Service to young people.  A play perfect for middle-school and high-school class rooms it is set in the bedroom of three teenage sisters as one prepares to run away to Alaska and follow in Robert Service's footsteps.   I'll leave you with this:

THE CALL OF THE WILD (excerpt)  by Robert Service

'Have you broken trail on snowshoes?  Mushed your huskies up the river, Dared the unknown, led the way, and clutched the prize? Have you marked the map's void spaces, mingled with the mongrel races, Felt the savage strength of brute in every thew? And though grim as hell the worst is, can you round it off with curses? Then hearken to the Wild—it's wanting you.                                                                     

Have you suffered, starved and triumphed, groveled down, yet grasped at glory, Grown bigger in the bigness of the whole? "Done things" just for the doing, letting babblers tell the story, Seeing through the nice veneer the naked soul? Have you seen God in His splendors, heard the text that nature renders? The simple things, the true things, the silent men who do things— Then listen to the Wild—it's calling you.'

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Service was born, raised and educated on Scotland.  At age 21, dreaming about a cowboy life, Service left Scotland and moved to Canada traveling by rail from Montreal to British Columbia.  He lived in Victoria, BC, and spent his first few years traveling up and down the west coast.  He was a banker by trade and  went to work in Victoria and later (around 1904) was stationed in White Horse, Yukon.[image error]

Service understood the difficulties of living in the north and he very much appreciated the beauty of the land.  Soon Robert Service was writing poetry about the north and sent a package of his poems to a publisher.   One of the poems Service included was to become one of his most famous, The Cremation of Sam McGee.   His book of poetry was enormously successful and he became wealthy almost overnight.   He kept his bank job and a year later was transferred to Dawson City making the trip by dog sleigh.  (photo of him outside his cabin in White Horse.)

During World War I, Robert Service was a war correspondent for the Toronto Star.  In 1913, Service arrived in Paris, where he would live for the next 15 years. He settled in the Latin Quarter, posing as a painter.  He continued to write poetry and novels and amassed wealth.  He often pretended to be poor. Robert Service was considered the most read poet of the 20th century.

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Start your month off right!! DON'T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with other best-selling AUTHORS!      A NEW SERIES, "The Writer's Corner"

I have had a wonderful response from other authors and will feature an interview once a month . I have invited such luminaries as: Ann Purser, Susan Elia MacNeal, Maya Angelou, Mark Childress, Rhys Bowen, Dean Koontz, Sheryl Woods, Jo-Ann Mapson, Jeffrey Deaver, Elizabeth Gilbert, Amber Winckler, Robert McCammon, Sue Grafton, Walter Mosley, Nora Roberts, and many others.

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers' special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create!  Mark Childress is our April author.  Robert McCammon is scheduled for May. Caroline Leavitt is June's author.  July features Rhys Bowen.  Sue Grafton is August's author and September will feature Tasha Alexander.

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To receive my posts sign up for my   Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". You need to confirm in an email from 'Writer at Play' . Thanks!

Read my novel....FREE..."Women Outside the Walls" (part 88)

Epilogue

Hattie and Kitty

            Kitty was sitting in a winged back chair with a cup of Earl Grey in her hand and the morning edition of the

Chicago Tribune in her lap.  The morning room was one of Kitty’s favorites in the whole house.  Pale green silk

wallpaper covered three walls, with cream colored wainscoting.  The furnishings were upholstered in a pale green

palm frond design with various shades of the green on the walls.  One whole wall was glass with French doors

that led out on a large, well tended flower garden. The window treatments were a soft gold and cream stripe and

held back by cords with heavy gold tassels.  The deep Persian carpet was gold and green.

“Auntie Kit!” The door from the foyer burst open and Stella ran across the room and threw herself into Kitty’s lap,

causing Kitty to juggle the cup of liquid. Newspaper pages flew everywhere.

“My stars, child, let me set this down before you cause me to scald both of us,” she laughed as she placed the

teacup and saucer on the side table.  Stella looked up into Kitty’s face, her eyes bright with excitement.

“Guess what? Bet you can’t guess where I’m goin’!”

Kitty hugged her close and then gave her an expression of intense concentration.

“Let’s see…the moon?”

Stella giggled, “No.”

“No? All right. China? I’ve always wanted to see China.”

“Uh-uh.”Stella giggled more.

“A dude ranch?”

Stella burst into bright laughter.  “No, I don’t even know what a ‘dude ranch’ is.”

“All right, then I give up.” Kitty teased.

“The Zoo!” Stella crowed. “Mommy says tomorrow is her day off and her and me are going; just the two of us.

She said it’s a ‘mommy-daughter date’.”

“’She and I’ ”. Kitty automatically corrected Stella.

“Yes‘m. ‘She and I’ are having a mommy-daughter date.”

“That’s wonderful, Stella.  I believe I read in the paper that there’s a new baby giraffe.”

“Really? Do you think that they’ll let me pet it?”

“Well, about that I’m not certain, but you surely will be able to see it.”

From out in the hallway, Hattie’s voice could be heard calling.  “Stella!  Where’d that chil’ get off to now.”

“We’re in here, Hattie,” Kitty called.

Hattie walked into the room with a scowl on her face.  “Stella-girl, wha’d I be tellin’ ya about botherin’

Miss Kitty all the time?”

Stella jumped out of Kitty’s lap and stood with head hung low.

“I’m sorry, Miss Kitty, but she drawn to you like a little ol’ bee to honey.”

Kitty laughed and pulling Stella in close, kissed her cheek.

“And I adore this little ol’ bee, don’t I Stella.”

“What does ‘adore’ mean, Auntie Kit?” Stella asked.

“Scoops of hugs and kisses with lots of love on top!” exclaimed Kitty.

Stella looked up at her mother with her big, solemn brown eyes and said, “Yep, Mommy, we adore each other.”

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Hope you'll return to find out what happens  to Alma, Hattie, and Kitty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Start your month off right!! DON'T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with other best-selling AUTHORS!      A NEW SERIES, "The Writer's Corner"

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers' special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To receive my posts sign up for my   Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". You need to confirm in an email from 'Writer at Play' . Thanks!

Review~~ Mom & Me & Mom by Maya Angelou

           Review: (Rating 4 out of 5 quills) 

[image error]                    Maya Angelou has always been a favorite of mine; if I can't surround myself with brilliant people in person, I surround myself with their words.  Here is a woman who was bounced around as a kid but landed firmly!, on her feet.  Life gave her wisdom and she grabbed onto it.

Two days before her eighty-fifth birthday, her new book "Mom & Me & Mom" was released. How appropriate for Dr. Angelou to reach back and talk about the woman who gave her birth, then abandoned and disappointed her....and in the end the love between a mother and daughter triumphed.

Simply and beautifully told, it reads like the oral family histories that I have so often mentioned in my blog.  The stories that our [image error]grandparents and parents tell us, as children, and are never written down.  Stories often lost forever with the death of the older generations.  The story of Vivian and Maya is recorded now and will never be lost in our intensely technological world.

This is the story of a vibrant young woman (Vivian) unprepared for motherhood.  Instead of coping she handed her two small children to her mother and never looked back.  So many children, black and white, were "farmed out" back in the day.  Before I was born, my mother (so like Vivian) indentured my brother and sister to strangers.  At least little Maya and her brother were sent to a loving grandmother.  But the feeling of abandonment and  unworthiness is the same and sometimes the emotional scars  last a lifetime.

'Maya  Angelou's mother, Vivian Baxter, an indomitable spirit whose petite size belied her larger-than-life presence—a presence absent during much of Angelou’s early life. When her marriage began to crumble, Vivian famously sent three-year-old Maya and her older brother away from their California home to live with their grandmother in Stamps, Arkansas. The subsequent feelings of abandonment stayed with Angelou for years, but their reunion, a decade later, began a story that has never before been told.'  (inside flap)

I recommend this book for its simple honesty.

                                         (Review requested by G. Roig, Publicist, Random House)

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Start your month off right!! DON'T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with other best-selling AUTHORS!      A NEW SERIES, "The Writer's Corner"

I have had a wonderful response from other authors and will feature an interview once a month . I have invited such luminaries as: Ann Purser, Susan Elia MacNeal,  Mark Childress, Rhys Bowen, Dean Koontz, Sheryl Woods, Jo-Ann Mapson, Jeffrey Deaver, Elizabeth Gilbert, Amber Winckler, Robert McCammon, Sue Grafton, Walter Mosley, Nora Roberts, and many others.

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers' special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create!  Mark Childress is our April author.  Robert McCammon is scheduled for May. Caroline Leavitt is June's author.  July features Rhys Bowen.  Sue Grafton is August's author and September will feature Tasha Alexander.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To receive my posts sign up for my   Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". You need to confirm in an email from 'Writer at Play' . Thanks!

Read my novel....FREE..."Women Outside the Walls" (part 87)

           (continued)      The witnesses were escorted into the viewing room. The room was divided

by a seven foot wall separating the victim and perpetrator’s families. Each room held three rows

of metal folding chairs.  Three walls were concrete cinder block.  The fourth wall had two large

glass windows and on the other side a closed curtain blocked their view.  The turnout was small.

The victim’s side was eerily empty and silent. Alma was dimly aware that one of the observers

in her room was Sandra Gerrard.

What the hell was she doin’ here? Alma wondered.  Oh, well, guess it don’t matter who’s here.

Not to me anyway, just as long as Charlie knows I’m here. Sighing, Alma sat in the first row, in the center

where Charlie could easily see her.  She wore a black coat and jeans.  Her hair was tucked up under a baseball cap.

She had on dark glasses.   Slowly the curtains started to draw back.  On the other side of the glass was a

gurney holding Charlie, his body strapped down to the bed.  Behind the head rest was a control panel with tubes

and lights.  All the lights were red.   A chaplain stood at Charlie’s side.  An orderly stood at the control panel

behind Charlie’s head.  The warden stood at Charlie’s feet.

“Mr. Baldwin, do you have any last words?” the warden asked as he pulled a microphone down from the ceiling.

“Yeah, I do.”

As Charlie spoke he turned his head to the glass window and found his wife. Alma took off her baseball cap

and shook out her fiery-red hair.  She removed the dark glasses.

“Alma, when you tell my daughter about this tell her that I loved her more than life. Tell her that I’m sorry.”

Charlie casually looked to see who else was in the room with his wife. When he saw Sandy Gerrard sitting there,

several seats away from Alma, his eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Hey Gerrard!  Did ya bring the pizza and beer?”

Sandy gave him a small, sickly smile.

“No hard feelings, Gerrard.”  Sandy stared at him through the window. Charlie grinned at her one last time.

“Oh… and Sandy?   I don’t care what the hell you think, Shane was just wounded,” he said with a laugh.

Charlie’s eyes found Alma again, “I love you, Lady Bug. Always have, always will. Only you.”

He looked at the warden. “Let’s get this show on the road, Warden. Time’s awastin’.”

“Do you wish to pray, Mr. Baldwin?” the chaplain asked.

Charlie laughed. “Not much use for prayers where I’m goin’, preacher.”

Charlie turned back to the window. Alma leaned forward and with her eyes, she silently commanded

Charlie to stay locked on her face.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the lights change from red to gold.

She saw the first tube fill and then the gold light went to green.  She mouthed the words to Charlie,

“I love you more than anything in this world.  I always have.”

As the green light on the panel glowed Charlie smiled in response to her words.  His eyes flickered,

closed briefly then snapped open again.  The boldness was still there but now there was a glimmer of panic.

He stared intently into Alma’s eyes one last time.  “Alma, I love you.”

Alma inhaled on a sob.  She smiled and nodded to Charlie. His eyes flickered again and closed forever.

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The next segment will appear Wednesday. Hope you'll return to find out what happens  to Alma now that Charlie is gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Start your month off right!! DON'T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with other best-selling AUTHORS!      A NEW SERIES, "The Writer's Corner"

I have had a wonderful response from other authors and plan on featuring an interview once a month . I have invited such luminaries as: Ann Purser, Susan Elia MacNeal, Mark Childress, Rhys Bowen, Dean Koontz, Sheryl Woods, Jo-Ann Mapson, Jeffrey Deaver, Elizabeth Gilbert, Amber Winckler, Robert McCammon, Walter Mosley, Nora Roberts, and many others.

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers' special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To receive my posts sign up for my   Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". You need to confirm in an email from 'Writer at Play' . Thanks!

Don't miss a Review of Maya Angelou's newest book

[image error]Random House's publicist invited me to review  Maya Angelou's newest book,  "Mom & Me & Mom" a candid [image error]look at her sometimes on, sometimes off, relationship with her mother, Vivian.

I myself am working on my new novel, "Wild Violets" and am currently writing the part where my mother dropped off my sister and brother to strangers to work on a farm.  (true story)  I could really relate to the confusion and heartbreak that Maya and her brother suffered when sent away by their mother.

It constantly amazes me at how truly resilient and brave children can be.

Don't miss this Tuesday's REVIEW,  April 9th!

 

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Start your month off right!! DON'T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with other best-selling AUTHORS! at The Writer's Corner"

I have had a wonderful response from other authors and will feature an interview once a month . I have invited such luminaries as: Ann Purser, Susan Elia MacNeal, Maya Angelou, Mark Childress, Rhys Bowen, Dean Koontz, Sheryl Woods, Jo-Ann Mapson, Jeffrey Deaver, Elizabeth Gilbert, Amber Winckler, Robert McCammon, Sue Grafton, Walter Mosley, Nora Roberts, and many others.

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers' special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create!  Mark Childress is our April author.  Robert McCammon is scheduled for May. Caroline Leavitt is June's author.  July features Rhys Bowen.  Sue Grafton is August's author and September will feature Tasha Alexander.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To receive my posts sign up for my   Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". You need to confirm in an email from 'Writer at Play' . Thanks!

Read my novel....FREE..."Women Outside the Walls" (part 86)

Chapter 35

Alma

Charlie walked, unaided, between the six burly guards.  He was followed by the warden and the

prison chaplain.  ‘Dead Man Walking’ Charlie grinned to himself. Never thought that would

apply to me. What a great flick with that sexy redhead all stripped down plain to look like a nun.

A waste of a beautiful woman that’s what that was. It sure ain’t an oldie but I liked it anyway.

Here’s my chance to see how close to real life the movie was. Me and Sean Penn,

checkin’ out like real men.

Charlie chuckled out loud. The guards glanced down at Charlie and then back at the warden.

Shrugging his shoulders, the warden indicated that they should keep walking.  Let them wonder what’s so funny,

Charlie thought. Never let them see you sweat, that’s my motto. They probably

think I’m crazy laughing as I go to my own execution. Dumb shits. Let them wonder.

They came to a door at the end of the hall. Beyond it was what the inmates called the ‘death room’.

One of the guards opened it for Charlie and all eight of the men escorted him into the notorious room.

Charlie was surprised at how small it was. A square box twelve by twelve feet with a low ceiling and a permanent

metal bed affixed to the floor in the center. The bed, adorned in clean white sheets filled the room.

One of the guards led Charlie to the side of the bed and he sat on the edge of the bed. As the guards took charge,

there was little conversation as each man knew his job. This was the last stop in the justice system’s express lane to hell.

Charlie’s body was secured with thick leather straps; one around his chest, midsection, groin, thighs and calves.

The men then strapped his arms onto boards jutting out at a 45 degree angle from the bed.  While they methodically

worked Charlie closed his eyes and took his thoughts back to the movie.  Yeah, the movie was right on the mark.

Wonder how they found out all this stuff?  Probably brought in some expert consultant like a warden moonlightin’ for Hollywood. At the end of the movie you really liked Penn even though he was a very bad ass. A whiff of alcohol

made Charlie’s eyes fly open. An orderly was leaning over his right arm and swabbed it with antiseptic.

“Gotta stick you, Baldwin, find a vein. Both arms. You understand?”

“It’s thoughtful of you to swab my arm first to prevent infection.”  Charlie laughed.

The warden stood to one side at the foot of the bed. Charlie could see two identical windows sealed off by curtains.

Is Alma sitting there now? He wondered. Will I see her when they pull those curtains back?  God!

I hope so…I can get through this if I can just see her face.

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The next segment will appear Monday. Hope you'll return to find out what happens next to the women outside the walls.

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Start your month off right!! DON'T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with other best-selling AUTHORS!      A NEW SERIES, "The Writer's Corner"

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers' special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create!

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To receive my posts sign up for my   Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". You need to confirm in an email from 'Writer at Play' . Thanks!

Inspire Me Today....and every day!

Inspire Me Today. com has invited me to be a contributing writer on their site.  Promoting success, empowerment, and inspiration.  Recently I wrote about doubting ourselves.  Here's what some other people you might have heard of had to say about that.

 

J. Michael Straczynski

“When in ‘doubt’, blow something up.”

(When in doubt do something nice for yourself.  Sit in the park and watch the world.  Make a list of ten things you like about yourself.)

 

F.Scott Fitzgerald

“All good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath.”

(Life in general is swimming along, holding your breath and trying to do the best you can.)

E.M. Forster

“How do I know what I think until I see what I say?”

(So often words pop out of our mouths before we’ve thought it through.)

 

Tapani Bagge

“Everything that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.  And later on you can use it in some story.” 

(Amen, amen to that!  and you’d be surprised just how strong and resilient you really are!)

Maya Angelou  

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“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

(There is no greater agony than bearing A DREAM inside you and not fulfilling it.)

To read more, join us at InspireMeToday.com

http://www.inspiremetoday.com/blog/2013/04/do-you-doubt-yourself/ 

The Writer's Corner.. an Interview with Mark Childress (part 2)

Part II ....Mark Childress

Q. Do you ‘get lost’ in your writing and for how long?

A. All the time, when it’s going well. I actually get kind of impatient with the demands of real life when the imagined life really gets up and cranking.

Q. When did you begin to write seriously?

A. In high school, after I won an “honorable mention” in a short story contest and Miss Eudora Welty herself put the plaque in my hand.

Q. How long after that were you published?

A. I was published as a journalist starting just two years later but it was nine years before I got my first novel published.

Q. and the all important: What does the process of going from "no book" to "finished book" look like?

A. Assuming you have found an agent who has found an interested publisher, most of the process is directed by the writer. Despite what people think, publishers don’t generally force novelists to stick to strict deadlines or to stop editing the book before they’re finished. They want you to write the best book you can. First you write the book. Then you rewrite it a few times or a few dozen times for yourself.

Then a few more times for the editor. Then another time for the copy desk. After that, it is waiting, longing, hoping, and having Oprah dreams. Then publication happens and is both much better and much worse than you ever expected. Then you face the blank page and start the next one. Rewriting is the core of what writers do – so if you can’t stand rewriting and being edited, choose another profession.[image error]

Q. Where/when do you first discover your characters ?

A. It is different for each book. Sometimes it is an idea, or a place, sometimes it is a character. It’s important to keep listening for that little bell when it rings.

Q. What inspired your story/stories ?

A. Life, pain, a happy childhood that was also miserable. A weird family. Being from Alabama.

Q. Have you? Or do you want to write in another genre`?

A. The one problem my agent has always had is that I like to write a completely different novel each time. I don’t stick to one theme or one type of book. I love writers like Graham Greene who can do a little bit of everything, and I’ve always wanted to be like that.

Q. Please feel free to share more with us.

A.   "I love my readers. They have made it possible for me to have the life I dreamed of back when I started out. If you are one of them – my thanks."

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Start your month off right!! DON'T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with other best-selling AUTHORS!      A NEW SERIES, "The Writer's Corner"

I have had a wonderful response from other authors and plan on featuring an interview once a month . I have invited such luminaries as: Ann Purser, Susan Elia MacNeal, Mark Childress, Rhys Bowen, Dean Koontz, Sheryl Woods, Jo-Ann Mapson, Jeffrey Deaver, Elizabeth Gilbert, Amber Winckler, Robert McCammon, Sue Grafton,Walter Mosley, Nora Roberts, and many others.

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers' special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create!    Robert McCammon is scheduled for May. Caroline Leavitt is June's author.  July features Rhys Bowen.

Sue Grafton is August's author and September will feature Tasha Alexander.

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To receive my posts sign up for my   Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". You need to confirm in an email from 'Writer at Play' . Thanks!