Christine Nolfi's Blog, page 17
March 1, 2013
Doing Max Vinyl – On Sale!
If you follow @christinenolfi on Twitter, you’ve probably come across tweets about a book I simply adore: Frederick Brooke’s Doing Max Vinyl. I came across the novel before Fred and I became close friends; I couldn’t put it down. A mix of crime thriller, comedy and damn fine writing, Doing Max Vinyl will delight you, entertain you, and have you laughing out loud. Fred’s glorious debut is on sale this weekend–I urge you to visit Amazon immediately and download your copy.
An excerpt:
The barge was ninety-five feet long, longer than a city bus, and twenty-five feet wide. It had six cargo bays that went down four feet below the waterline. Along one side of the deck ran a track with a small crane attached. The crane made it possible to pick up something heavy, swing it around, and set it in any of the cargo bays. The standard load was an industrial-sized Dumpster, twenty feet long, eight feet wide and eight feet deep. The Dumpsters were loaded onto this barge under cover of the boathouse.
When Ike and Tranny arrived, the barge was fully loaded and low in the water, so you could just read the name painted in white cursive letters above the waterline: Lake Mule. The six Dumpsters were piled high with old or broken PC housings, monitors, printers and keyboards, old power cords, old plugs and switches of yesterday’s technology, disk drives for floppy disks or 3-1/2 inch disks never used anymore, half-gutted motherboards, stripped of any components that still worked or had value, with broken lead and solder lines, heaped upon broken keyboards, spent toner cartridges, scratched printer drums, shattered flatscreens.
This was the stuff that could not be resold on the website, not even marked down to ninety-nine cents. The clunky old monitors were the size of old TVs from the 1970s. They weighed thirty pounds. They sank like concrete. The Dumpsters were piled to overflowing after three days without a barge run.
Ike stood next to Tranny together in the little pilot house on the barge, waiting for the motor to warm up on choke. He opened a can of Milwaukee’s Best.
“Dumb question, but you got the GPS?”
“Check.”
“What that damn GPS ain’t been through,” Ike said. He eased in the choke, going slow so the engine wouldn’t die, ready to yank it out again. The engine coughed once but roared into life again. He put a hand on the gearshift. “And us, too, because of it.”
“Don’t start on that,” Tranny said. “You want I should untie?”
An hour later, having finished off a sixpack between them, they arrived at the GPS point. With the crane, the Dumpsters could be lifted out of the compartment and swiveled out over the water. Then, by means of a third chain attached to one end of the Dumpster and a winch on the crane, it could be tilted up slowly. When it reached a certain angle of incline, with a great deafening grinding and scraping that made your hair stand on end, the entire load slid out of the Dumpster and dropped into the coffee-colored water. Flatscreens, monitors, PCs, keyboards, printers and printer cables – they hardly made a splash. In twenty minutes all the computer trash had disappeared into the water, and the empty Dumpsters were back in their bays. The men turned the barge around and headed back in.
“We got about eighty feet of water under us,” Ike said after a while. “Just think how much water that is.”
“Helluva lot of water,” Tranny agreed. “Specially when you think it’s ten miles back to shore.”
“Boggles the mind.”
“You realize we ain’t never once seen a single other boat out here?”
“We never do,” Ike said.
“You know what I thought?” Tranny asked. “Now the fish can surf. Get it, surf? Because of all that internet gear we throwed ‘em.”
“So funny I forgot to laugh. More like the poor bastards are getting bonked on the head when it falls down through the water. Or else going radioactive because of the chemicals in the computers.”
“Chemicals?”
“Yeah, you know. All that mercury and shit in the screens.”
“Hey, man, what’s gotten into you?” Tranny squinted at him with those Vietnam eyes. “This lake is big enough for a few loads of clean old garbage. It’s not like we’re putting dirty diapers in the water.”
“Diapers is nothing,” Ike said. “Biodegradable paper and baby shit. Fish would gobble that sort of thing right up.”
“Don’t make me puke, man.”
“Seriously, Tranny, Max Vinyl is dumping shit that’s gonna poison this water for the next five hundred years.” Ike started another beer and was careful to put his last empty into a garbage bag they kept in the pilot cabin.
“Five hundred years, my ass,” Tranny said.
“Think about your children. Your children’s children. And that would only be the next sixty years.”
Tranny whistled and tossed his empty over the side. “Man, you better cut down on your drinking. You becoming what they call delusional. I ain’t even got any kids.”
Frederick Brooke
Born and raised in Chicago, I’ve lived in Illinois, Massachusetts, Montana, France, Germany, and for the last 20 years Switzerland. My mother enrolled me in a French class when I was four years old, and I’ve enjoyed learning languages ever since.
I taught English in a public high school in France, then for a year in a private language school in Germany, then for another in Zurich, Switzerland. I ran a small business in Switzerland for 18 years before returning to my original dream of writing fiction.
Although the United States and especially Chicago call to me, I usually visit only in my imagination. Both of my books Doing Max Vinyl and Zombie Candy are set in Chicago, although some of the action in my second book also takes place in Italy, where I’ve travelled frequently.
I speak French, German and Italian and in my spare time I’m studying Turkish. One of my stranger quirks is that I enjoy figuring out the finer points of grammar. Another is that I like immersing myself in a good story.
As an author, it’s heartening to know there’s always someone curling up in a chair with one of my stories. I love hearing from readers and always answer emails, though I might be nibbling on dark chocolate as I do it.
email: info@frederickleebrooke.com
February 24, 2013
Best-Selling Reads Grand Opening
Please visit bestsellingreads.com today.
February 22, 2013
The Happening
Got the call, I wish it never came; she said that you were gone. All the days of being in the sun, well I guess they’ve finally run. ~ Victims Of The Sky,
Fisher
(Water Album)
No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop the visits.
He’s no longer of this earth, but he comes to me in my dreams. He fills the empty space, if only for a fleeting blur of time.
An ex-lover killed himself one day in October 2009. A beautiful fall day about three years ago. Though no longer together for many years, he had connected with me three months prior on Facebook. We spoke online, via email, texts. No ‘in real life’ contact.
I’m married, happily. My guy had full knowledge of my discussions with ‘D,’ and is mature enough to know this reconnection had more to do with issue resolution than the start of anything. A closure, if you will.
More of an ending than I could have ever dreamed.
We spoke at lunch. By dinner, he had taken a gun to his heart.
But this essay isn’t really about me. It’s about being left behind. About the survivors who must deal with the fact that someone we love, or once loved with every ounce of our souls, takes his own life.
It’s about what happens next.
Death is part of life. We all know death will come, yet ignore it as much as possible. That is, until it picks us up and throws us about like human rag dolls in a tornado.
No death is easy. The atoms that occupied that person’s space vanish and we are left to deal with a hollow emptiness that pales as a replacement. This isn’t about how we die – we are all too well aware already.
But suicide is a different kind of death. It’s always shocking. Even if someone you know or love has tried before; the reality of the happening is well, unacceptable. Unbelievable. A sick, surreal twist of your gut that what happened could not have happened.
There are no words to explain that jolt when someone tells you the person you once gave your heart to is gone by their own hand. My initial reaction was: this is a sick joke. He was so strong. He would never do something like this. He has a small son! No. Not possible.
As a writer, I turned to words. I searched for answers in our conversations, our emails and texts about music and children, my old journals from our four years together. Ours was a messy, intense relationship, full of love, lust, and roiling emotions. His extreme jealousy and cheating are what ended us; he chose another green-eyed girl and that was it. I was done.
He was a good man. He went beyond for his friends, whom he knew most of his life. I never thought of him as bad, despite his flaws…despite my own pain. We all have them. The reality of his life was far different than he would have ever dreamed – this tough, scrappy kid who became a bull rider and then ultimately, a truck driver. Losing his job, his transportation, his marriage, and his son left a huge hole in his life that Facebook couldn’t fill.
It’s a known fact that men rarely ask for mental health help. He dealt with his depression by drinking. Alcoholics are more likely to commit suicide than non-alcoholics. He was also a risk-taker: bull riding, black diamond skiing, and sadly, alcohol. Risk-takers are typically, more often than not, those who choose this path.
I suppose he just reached a point where the burden – whether it was financial, emotional, imagined or real, became it.
The End.
And so we move on. After three years, I’m of the belief that he made the choice he felt best, yet his difficulties made him the victim. The only victims of suicide are the people themselves who leave us. We, the survivors, and here to forgive the unforgiven, to answer the unanswered, to close the impossibly gaping hole.
And we do. We fill it with life.
His visits fill me with longing that he still be here – there will always be a place for him in my heart. Or, as he told me during what would unknowingly become our last conversation, ‘Rach, you’ll always hold a piece of my heart in the palm of your hand.’
Maybe not in my hand, but certainly in my dreams.
–by Rachel Thompson
Find Rachel at:
Site: http://RachelintheOC.com
Twitter: @RachelintheOC
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelThomps...
Email: RachelintheOC@gmail.com
Her three books, A Walk In The Snark, Mancode: Exposed, andBroken Pieces, are all Amazon Kindle bestsellers. Broken Pieces is currently free! And has received over 45 five-star reviews in less than six weeks, and recently earned a five-star review from one of Amazon’s top reviewers.
She’s also the founder of BadRedheadMedia (her social media/author marketing consultancy), the #MondayBlogs blog meme on Twitter, writes a monthly column for the San Francisco Book Review (BadReadhead Says…), and geek articles for bitrebels.com. Rachel loves Nutella and misses sleep.
February 21, 2013
How to Nurture a Writer’s Soul
How do you nurture a writer’s soul? Allow her to spend time with like-minded women.
Last weekend I drove to Florida for a weekend of camaraderie at Bette Lee Crosby’s house. If you aren’t familiar with Bette’s work, she’s the award-winning author of beloved novels including Spare Change and Cracks in the Sidewalk. We’d met through Naomi Blackburn, the energetic moderator of the GoodReads group Sisterhood of the Traveling Book. Naomi also runs a fabulous series on author Terri G. Long’s website, The Author CEO.
But back to Bette. She’s a consummate and incredibly gracious host. Soon after our introduction in December, she extended an invitation to stay at her house when she hosted a luncheon for fellow authors Diane Capri, Karla Darcy, Leona DeRosa Bodie and Patricia Sands. This was a first: never before have I received an invitation for a weekend retreat after a few phone calls and numerous chats on FaceBook!
Needless to say, I spent the last day of my visit with five fabulous writers who are sweet, sassy, hilarious at turns and deeply dedicated to producing quality fiction for their readers. I urge you to head over to Barnes & Noble or Amazon immediately and check out their books.
GoodReads Pages:
Bette Lee Crosby: http://tinyurl.com/aq5hk2b
Diane Capri: http://tinyurl.com/9wj6zmh
Leona DeRosa Bodie: http://tinyurl.com/a4wmuxp
Patricia Sands: http://tinyurl.com/avqhvtb
Karla Darcy: http://tinyurl.com/awjbjvy
Photo, from left to right: Bette (and her Bichon, Sugar), me, Diane, Leona, Patricia and Karla
February 14, 2013
Read, Enjoy, On Sale
This weekend, download the eBook of The Tree of Everlasting Knowledge at Barnes & Noble or Amazon for 99 cents. Midwest Book Review says, “Poignant and powerful, The Tree of Everlasting Knowledge is unforgettable to the very end.” Enjoy!
February 5, 2013
Liebster Award for Blogging
Thriller writer Rachel Amphlett kindly nominated me for the Liebster Award. What is the Liebster? I must 1) tell you 11 random facts about myself;
2) answer 11 questions which Rachel sent; 3) nominate 11 authors; and
4) send them 11 completely new questions.
Got it? Let’s begin.
11 Random Facts
(1) I began reading at age two. This would seem impressive if you’ve never gleaned author biographies. Latching onto language early is common in our breed.
(2) I’m the third of six kids—the family eccentric. One of my sisters once said, “I’d love to live your life, but I wouldn’t have the courage.”
(3) I flunked French in 7th grade.
(4) I was voted “most creative” in high school, and took my junior and senior years simultaneously.
(5) In college I appeared on the front page of The Houston Post for a lark that erased all my debt. Several airlines ran a promotion in which they gave away $5 vouchers for future travel. The airlines forgot to print “non-transferable” on the coupons. We sold the vouchers to a Fortune 500 company, earning $25,000 for two day’s work.
(6) I believe in the power of good intention.
(7) Slasher movies freak me out. The world doesn’t need blood on the walls, thank you very much.
(8) Take away my gym pass and I’m miserable.
(9) I became a parent after missing a press release deadline for an Ohio company. My four children, now young adults, are a sibling group from the Philippines.
(10) Since publishing my debut in 2011, I’ve suffered Time Zone Confusion. This probably means I should stop interacting frequently on social media. A tall order for a naturally sociable woman.
(11) I love the Stone’s Gimme Shelter.
Questions from Rachel Amphlett
What’s your favorite album cover and why?
Elton John’s Tumbleweed Connection. It reminds me of high school, and the cool art teacher who played tunes while we dabbled in paint.
You’ve got the chance to travel back in time and be in your favorite movie. Which movie, and which character do you choose and why?
Peter Pan. And I get to play Peter Pan. Who wouldn’t want to fly, and cross swords with Captain Hook?
You’ve been offered the chance to interview a person of your choosing. Who would you choose—and what’s your opening question?
Microsoft Chairman and Gates Foundation President Bill Gates.
My question: “You’re doing a fine job eradicating disease and jump-starting cultural change on a global scale. Now, would you mind giving my ‘to do’ list a look-see?”
You’ve been asked to speak about writing in front of a class of 12-year olds. What advice aren’t you going to give them?
I would neglect to mention that most aspiring novelists don’t succeed and few fulfill the dream of earning a living from their words. Nor would I mention that mastery is achieved after ten thousand hours of hard work.
What’s the worst joke you’ve ever heard?
Knock, knock (add dumb copy here)
Relaxing holiday or action holiday? And where?
Relaxing spa vacation, totally. White sands, purple ocean. In Aruba. No. Wait. Hawaii. Both?
You’ve got a chance to go back to your schooldays. What would you do differently?
Absolutely nothing. I was a hellion in youth, a perfectly acceptable personality trait for a budding novelist.
Your house is burning down. You’ve got the family and pets out. The flames are making their way to your bookshelves…and you can only save one. Which book do you rescue, and why?
I hurry past the books and head straight to my file cabinet to retrieve all the documentation surrounding my children’s adoption. Living with much of one’s early childhood surrounded in mist is difficult at best. So I save what I can.
You can be a superhero for the day (or a villain). Who are you, and why? And, yes, you get to wear the costume with the cape too if that sort of thing floats your boat.
I’m the Dreams Come True witch, appearing beside those luckless souls who have given up hope. One swish of my wand, and dreams are given form and shape. I wear Glinda’s glittery gown from The Wizard of Oz. Come to think of it, I get to look like her too.
Tagged:
Frederick Brooke http://www.fredericklessbrooke.com
Martha Bourke http://www.marthabourke.com
Rachel Thompson http://www.rachelintheoc.com
Andy Holloman http://www.andyholloman.com
Helen Hanson http://www.helenhanson.com
Scott Bury http://www.scottwrittenwords.blogspot.com
Molly Greene http://www.molly-greene.com
Toby Neal http://www.tobyneal.net
Bette Lee Crosby http://www.betteleecrosby.com
Steena Holmes http://www.steenaholmes.com
Diane Capri http://www.dianecapri.com
11 Questions:
(1) Describe your life five years from now.
(2) What was your favorite toy during childhood?
(3) Most embarrassing moment during adolescence?
(4) What do you most enjoy about the writing process?
(5) You can spend the day with someone famous (living or dead). Who do you choose? Why? What do you talk about?
(6) How many unfinished manuscripts sit dusty and unloved in your office?
(7) Of which of your works are you most proud?
(8) Please share the most heartwarming or amusing comment you’re received from a reader.
(9) Do you eat your veggies?
(10) What was the catalyst that drove your to write your first book?
(11) Favorite vacation spot?
Special thanks to Rachel Amphlett http://www.rachelamphlett.com
@RachelAmphlett on Twitter
January 31, 2013
Digital Book Today Feature
The Tree of Everlasting Knowledge is a Weekly Great Read at Digital Book Today.
January 7, 2013
Southern Writers Magazine
Second Chance Grill is featured on page 29 of the January / February issue:
January 2, 2013
New Classic Reads – Join Us!
Please join us January 3 – 7 for the New Classic Reads blog hop on Terri Guiliano’s Long’s site at http://bit.ly/CR2013
December 30, 2012
Books as Good Medicine
Several days ago a reader posted a review on GoodReads, which said, in part:
“It had me laughing out loud one moment and wiping away tears the next, which is an effect that very few books have ever had on me. Second Chance Grill ended up being just what I needed at this time in my life: a reminder to slow down, ground my perspective a bit, and focus on the important things in life…family and friends…and being there for them no matter what.”
I’ve chatted with the woman in a book club forum and her life’s context is easy to picture: a thirty-something wife and mother snatching moments to read amidst the tinsel and wrapping paper strewn across the living room. Nearby, children scream in an amped up state of excitement for Santa’s arrival. Hubby dragging in from work, perhaps too exhausted to appreciate the holiday cheer she’d strived to create. And our faithful reader, nose stuck in the pages, submerged in an oasis of calm in an otherwise frenetic life.
We’ve all shared the experience of finding solace or excitement in the pages of a book. The experience proves a delight. Is it also, well, good for our health?
Turns out, it is. Cognition and neurobiology experts at Standford asked a group of literary PhD candidates to read a Jane Austen novel inside a functional magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) machine and found that reading provides a neurological workout. Blood flow increases dramatically in regions of the brain normally associated with paying close attention to a task.
Other studies have found daily reading reduces the risk of Alzheimer’s and helps to build new neural pathways as your brain processes the experience you read about.
Dive into the pages to ride the raging seas with an imaginary harpoon gripped in your fist, and your heartbeat accelerates. Conjure an image of a handsome stranger swirling you across a dance floor, and your heart shifts with longing. From your brain’s standpoint, an imagined event demands a cognitive workout as surely as a real event does.
Last summer, during a particularly hectic month, I popped open my iPad and read Frederick Brooke’s Doing Max Vinyl in several hours flat. I couldn’t stop reading because I couldn’t stop laughing. The scathingly fresh prose provided a much-needed respite. Later, in October, Jeffrey Blount’s Hating Heidi Foster sent my neurons spinning in another direction. The poignant depiction of a teenager grieving the loss of her father, and the heroic characterizations of the adults trying to help her, brought on tears and a deep satisfaction that stayed with me for days.
Good medicine? Yes.
Join us for a discussion of New Classic Reads
Join us on January 3 – 7, 2013 to share the books—old and new—on your Classic Reads List. We want to hear about your favorite stories, authors and books whether they’re old favorites, new fiction, controversial or simply heartwarming. What elements catapult a book from a good read to a must read for you?
Don’t miss this fabulous opportunity to share your favorite reads and learn about more.
Visit Terri Long’s website for the Classic Reads Blog Hop http://terriglong.com/blog/classic-re...
Follow #NewClassicReads on Twitter for updates, news and discussion.
