Sherrie Henry's Blog, page 2
July 31, 2015
How Hard It Is To Ask For Help
Some of you may know about Maggie, my big, lovable, American Mutt. She's been with me since 2005, when I lost my first lovable American Mutt, Tramp. He'd been with me for 15.5 years, living a good full life to 17. I remember bringing Tramp home; he was still a pup, 18 months old, and he hid underneath the kitchen table for hours. But he's a story for another day.
My sisters paid the fee for me to rescue Maggie. She was my Christmas present in 2005, just a week or so after losing Tramp. I say I rescued Maggie, but she rescued me. And she chose me - I sat down in the midst of all the dogs at the rescue farm and she came over, rested her body against my leg and put her head on my thigh. If that's not her choosing me, I don't know what is.
Her temperament was the best for apartment-dwelling life. She never barked, was 100% house-broken - to the extent that when I got caught being away for almost 20 hours one day, she never peed or pooped in the house. She definitely took one long wiz when I got home and thankfully, that was the only instance where she was left alone for so long.
She's my sweetie. She's a quiet, gentle, seemingly old soul. And now, at the age of 12, she's sick and I don't have the money to help her.
I've had friends who've spent thousands on their pets before, in the vain attempt to keep them alive, if just for a little bit longer. A lot of my friends don't have close family, so their pets are their family. It's hard for a lot of people to understand that - they have a spouse or children to come home to. Think about it - you don't have a significant other to come home to, the house is always quiet and you're alone. With a pet, you're never alone and they do become family. They are the ones who comfort you when you're sad, they are always there for you. That's been my Maggie. I've never had a husband or boyfriend to come home to, but I've had Tramp, then Maggie (and of course, my newest edition, Rocky). You have no idea how wonderful it is to come home to wagging tails and sloppy kisses, especially after a horrible day.
Maggie & Rocky, Christmas 2013
Maggie needs surgery and follow-up care. She has a 70% chance of recovery and excellent quality of life. The vet said with treatment she could live out her life with no problems, pain-free, possibly living another 4-5 years. That's a good long life for a dog. And those are really good odds in my opinion. It's worth the $5,000, if I can find the money.
I've always had trouble asking for money, even to people who actually owe me money. And I know my news feed on Facebook is overflowing with worthy causes that need help that I, myself, have become almost emotionless to the onslaught. But I can't lose my Maggie. I just can't. She doesn't even act sick; she's playing, eating, drinking, going for her walks, just like normal. And I want to keep her that way. She deserves it. She relies on me to keep her healthy and safe and that's what I'm determined to do.
I have a little of my own money, but no where enough to even get the surgery. The vet doesn't want to wait too long; two weeks tops. Thus I'm asking, asking as hard as I can, asking while I have tears running down my face at the thought of losing her ... I'm asking for your help. I need $2,000 right away for the surgery, then another $3,000 for follow-up care that would start about two weeks after surgery. But that kind of money ... it might as well be a million dollars because I don't think I have any assets that are even close to that.
So I'm actually begging. Don't let me lose my Maggie. I have over 4,000 Facebook friends - I know that doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot; most are author acquaintances and friends of friends that I've never even interacted with. But if only a quarter of those friends could give $5 each, I'd meet my goal with no problem.
I've given to others before, some friends, some total strangers. I believe in Karma; I've given needed goods and money to so many over the years and have truly expected nothing in return. And this isn't for me; this is for Maggie. She had a horrible puppyhood; she was abused, to the point she doesn't bark and hides from just about everyone. I need to make her better. I need to get her healthy and cancer-free again and I need to do it fast, before it spreads. She has that 70% chance if I do it soon. Seventy percent!
Please, she's a worthy cause. I swear she is. I've set up a GoFundMe account, the link is below. I'll keep everyone updated on her progress and get some more pictures up of her. I can't wait much longer than mid-August to schedule her surgery, so please, if you can, I'd appreciate whatever you can give. Every dollar helps. Thank you from the bottom of my heart and back.
http://www.gofundme.com/2a6x68tdk
My sisters paid the fee for me to rescue Maggie. She was my Christmas present in 2005, just a week or so after losing Tramp. I say I rescued Maggie, but she rescued me. And she chose me - I sat down in the midst of all the dogs at the rescue farm and she came over, rested her body against my leg and put her head on my thigh. If that's not her choosing me, I don't know what is.
Her temperament was the best for apartment-dwelling life. She never barked, was 100% house-broken - to the extent that when I got caught being away for almost 20 hours one day, she never peed or pooped in the house. She definitely took one long wiz when I got home and thankfully, that was the only instance where she was left alone for so long.
She's my sweetie. She's a quiet, gentle, seemingly old soul. And now, at the age of 12, she's sick and I don't have the money to help her.
I've had friends who've spent thousands on their pets before, in the vain attempt to keep them alive, if just for a little bit longer. A lot of my friends don't have close family, so their pets are their family. It's hard for a lot of people to understand that - they have a spouse or children to come home to. Think about it - you don't have a significant other to come home to, the house is always quiet and you're alone. With a pet, you're never alone and they do become family. They are the ones who comfort you when you're sad, they are always there for you. That's been my Maggie. I've never had a husband or boyfriend to come home to, but I've had Tramp, then Maggie (and of course, my newest edition, Rocky). You have no idea how wonderful it is to come home to wagging tails and sloppy kisses, especially after a horrible day.
Maggie & Rocky, Christmas 2013Maggie needs surgery and follow-up care. She has a 70% chance of recovery and excellent quality of life. The vet said with treatment she could live out her life with no problems, pain-free, possibly living another 4-5 years. That's a good long life for a dog. And those are really good odds in my opinion. It's worth the $5,000, if I can find the money.
I've always had trouble asking for money, even to people who actually owe me money. And I know my news feed on Facebook is overflowing with worthy causes that need help that I, myself, have become almost emotionless to the onslaught. But I can't lose my Maggie. I just can't. She doesn't even act sick; she's playing, eating, drinking, going for her walks, just like normal. And I want to keep her that way. She deserves it. She relies on me to keep her healthy and safe and that's what I'm determined to do.
I have a little of my own money, but no where enough to even get the surgery. The vet doesn't want to wait too long; two weeks tops. Thus I'm asking, asking as hard as I can, asking while I have tears running down my face at the thought of losing her ... I'm asking for your help. I need $2,000 right away for the surgery, then another $3,000 for follow-up care that would start about two weeks after surgery. But that kind of money ... it might as well be a million dollars because I don't think I have any assets that are even close to that.
So I'm actually begging. Don't let me lose my Maggie. I have over 4,000 Facebook friends - I know that doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot; most are author acquaintances and friends of friends that I've never even interacted with. But if only a quarter of those friends could give $5 each, I'd meet my goal with no problem.
I've given to others before, some friends, some total strangers. I believe in Karma; I've given needed goods and money to so many over the years and have truly expected nothing in return. And this isn't for me; this is for Maggie. She had a horrible puppyhood; she was abused, to the point she doesn't bark and hides from just about everyone. I need to make her better. I need to get her healthy and cancer-free again and I need to do it fast, before it spreads. She has that 70% chance if I do it soon. Seventy percent!
Please, she's a worthy cause. I swear she is. I've set up a GoFundMe account, the link is below. I'll keep everyone updated on her progress and get some more pictures up of her. I can't wait much longer than mid-August to schedule her surgery, so please, if you can, I'd appreciate whatever you can give. Every dollar helps. Thank you from the bottom of my heart and back.
http://www.gofundme.com/2a6x68tdk
July 16, 2015
July 2015 Book of the Month
July 2015 Book of the Month
Sorry for the lateness, but this month's title was worth the wait! Review from my Goodreads account.
First, I'd give this a 4.5 out of 5 stars if I could. The main difference between the 4 and 5 stars is basically the minor typos, grammar, capitalization and puncuation problems I spotted. I have to admit, I'm an anal reviewer when it comes to problems such as these (having an English Lit background). But these in no way deterred from the story; they were extremely minor. The only thing that really drew me out of the story was the author's use of parentheses to clarify something. I have never seen this used before and wonder if that is a cultural thing (Ms. Rae is from New Zealand). For me, it tossed me right out of the flow of the writing. UPDATE: Author has corrected a majority of these errors.
Ms. Rae's sentence structure needs a bit of improvement to help the flow as well. It's not wrong, just in my opinion she needs to utilize more compound and complex sentences. There were quite a few 'choppy' simple sentences (basic subject/predicate sentences) that would have been improved with the use of connecting prepositions or the use of adverbs.
As for the plot, I was hooked almost immediately. I'll admit I was a little frustrated at the bits and pieces she gave out about this world, but realized I was following the footsteps of the main character, Jodie. She's only given glimpses of the world of shifters when she falls for mysterious Danny.
The reveals are slow, but not painfully so. It's a book of discovery, of love and passion, of change. Of overcoming obstacles and following one's heart. The characters are well-thought out, each one with their different quirks and personalities that really shine when given their specific scenes. Not everything is revealed in this book, however. I know the author is working on the second book as she did leave this one in a cliffhanger.
All-in-all I want the second book now! It's going to be a long wait for the next one. UPDATE: Book 2 "The Fury" and Book 3 "The Butcher" have been released. The series name is "Therian Secrets."
Sorry for the lateness, but this month's title was worth the wait! Review from my Goodreads account.
First, I'd give this a 4.5 out of 5 stars if I could. The main difference between the 4 and 5 stars is basically the minor typos, grammar, capitalization and puncuation problems I spotted. I have to admit, I'm an anal reviewer when it comes to problems such as these (having an English Lit background). But these in no way deterred from the story; they were extremely minor. The only thing that really drew me out of the story was the author's use of parentheses to clarify something. I have never seen this used before and wonder if that is a cultural thing (Ms. Rae is from New Zealand). For me, it tossed me right out of the flow of the writing. UPDATE: Author has corrected a majority of these errors.
Ms. Rae's sentence structure needs a bit of improvement to help the flow as well. It's not wrong, just in my opinion she needs to utilize more compound and complex sentences. There were quite a few 'choppy' simple sentences (basic subject/predicate sentences) that would have been improved with the use of connecting prepositions or the use of adverbs.
As for the plot, I was hooked almost immediately. I'll admit I was a little frustrated at the bits and pieces she gave out about this world, but realized I was following the footsteps of the main character, Jodie. She's only given glimpses of the world of shifters when she falls for mysterious Danny.
The reveals are slow, but not painfully so. It's a book of discovery, of love and passion, of change. Of overcoming obstacles and following one's heart. The characters are well-thought out, each one with their different quirks and personalities that really shine when given their specific scenes. Not everything is revealed in this book, however. I know the author is working on the second book as she did leave this one in a cliffhanger.
All-in-all I want the second book now! It's going to be a long wait for the next one. UPDATE: Book 2 "The Fury" and Book 3 "The Butcher" have been released. The series name is "Therian Secrets."
June 7, 2015
Book Promo: Indigent (Charity Book 1)
Title:IndigentISBN:ISBN (13) 978-1512317404Genre: Fiction – LGBT AnthologyAudience: Young Adult and Teen (age group 16+)Edition: Quality Paperback, Pages – 464, $5.99 Ebook, $3.99Authors: Frederick Eugene Feeley Jr, Mari Evans, Leona Windwalker, Shaye Evans, M. LeAnne PhoenixPublisher: CoolDudes Publishing (PTY) LTDPublication Date: 15 June, 2015Distributor: Online distribution. Createspace. Amazon. Gumroad.Marketing: Multilayered online campaign, including giveaways (Epub, Mobi and Kindle) and advertising. Social media campaign including Facebook and Twitter, Google+ and Pinterest. ARC distribution.
Book Description (Blurb) Five authors have joined together to produce stories evoking both loss and hope. Reaching deep within their fiery imaginations, these stories take flight and showcase dreams for a better today and future for LGBT everywhere. Embodying a diverse set of talents and stories, this volume sets out to grab the hearts of those who read the m/m genre and to offer hope to LGBT across the globe.Frederick Eugene Feeley Jr’s “Indigent”, after which the anthology takes it’s name, brings the reader to witness an apocalyptic war between the good and evil that rages in one man’s mind. Soon he will know that his problems are insignificant compared to those of others.Mari Evan’s “Stumbling into Forever”, involves a handsome young vampire who will learn that just a sip of blood is the difference between love and freezing to death.Leona Windwalker’s “If Only the World”, takes rejection to another level. A heartbreaking story that is turned on it’s head by the kindness of strangers.Shaye Evans’ “Rescued”, is a contemporary social statement about the aftermath of a young man’s life after his drink has been spiked at a bar.M. LeAnne Phoenix’s “Higher Love”, takes us on an almost spiritual journey through the minds of two people who have never met, but have spoken on a telepathic level. When they do come together, that bond is already cemented but there is a price to pay.
Author Information Frederick Eugene Feeley JrF.E. Feeley Jr was born and raisedin Detroit, Michigan and lived there for twenty years before joining the military. He is a veteran of the US Armed Services; having done a tour in support of Operation Iraq Freedom in 2002-2003, he turned college student,pursuing a degree in political science. He now lives in Southeast Texas where he is married to the love of his life, John, and where they raise their 1½-year-old German shepherd, Kaiser. As a young man, readingtook center stage in his life, especially those novelsabout ghosts, witches, goblins, and all the other things that went bump in thenight. His favoriteauthors include such writersas Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Anne Rice, whosework allowed him to travel to far off placesand meet fascinating and scary characters. As a gay man, he wishes to be able to write good fictional literature for those who love the genre and to writecharacters that readers can relate to. All in all, he is a cigarette smokin’, whiskey drinkin’, rock and roll lovin’, tattoo wearin’ dreamer of a man with a wonderful partner who puts up with his crap and lets him write his stories.
Mari EvansMari is a wife and the proud mother of a very active daughter, twodogs and two cats. She’s a very social kind of girl, who loves to talk. It’s both her best and worst quality.From the moment she could read, she devoured books. Anythinggoes, as long as it has a happy ending.There were always stories swirlingaround in her head and as a child she liked to lay in bed and let the characters have their story and happy ending. It wasn’t until 2013 that she actually tried to put one of the whole stories down and submit it to a publisher. To her own surprise and excitementit was accepted. This gave her the drive to keep going.The decision to write m/m was made when a friend told a story about a young gay man that struck a chord, even as her husband had already encouraged her to try it earlier.Now she found her passion,having already found the love in her family and friends, her life is completely chaotic, crazy but wonderful.
Shaye Evans Shaye is a proud Australian and best selling author of the M/M Romance genre.At age nineteen,Shaye found her love in the m/m genre when she read herfirst M/M and was instantly hooked, but it took her an entire year to begin writing her own. She has had five of nine short stories accepted to be published in 2014 alone. Somethingshe is very proud to admit—and who wouldn’t beWhen not writingor plotting her next piece, Shaye keeps busy by either reading one of over four-hundredbooks in her collection, designingher next book cover, or shopping. She one day dreams of being a paramedic and her books making it to the movies!
Leona Windwalker Leona is a long time staunch supporter of human rights and environmental causes. Her favorite genre is m/m fiction and she particularly enjoys the sci fi, fantasyand action suspensesub-genres, especially if they have a nice seasoningof romance. She has far too many books on her Kindle, has overloaded her phone with even more, and when not reading,writing, being driven to distraction by her children,or being overlordedby her three cats, spends time trying to locate the portal that the sock monster uses to stealsocks from her dryer.
M. LeAnne Phoenix Born and raised in Fort Worth, Texas in the mid-1970's, Ms. Phoenix was young and wild (and even free!) during the crazy wondrous decade known as the1980's and the even crazier but now grungy decade of the 1990's. Musicis second only to the muses that live and breathe to fill her mind with beautiful men, and music always helpsthem to tell their stories. She is never withouther iPod or her computerno matter whereshe goes, although, she does like to hike andtake pictures of the sky and the moon, and even the occasional shot of the sun through the branches ofa tree.An avid cat lover, Ms. Phoenix has been owned by many throughout her life, though her current owner is one Lily-Rose, who really would like for her to step away from the keyboardand pay her some attention! After all, hasn't she earned it?
Editor BiographiesLouis J Harris Louis lives in Germiston, South Africa. He has published three novels, “Stars Fall”, “Revival”, and “Swimmer”, his short stories have appeared across the globe. He is the owner of CoolDudes Publishing and has been an affiliate member of the South African Professional Editors Group.
Kimi D Saunders (Leona Windwalker)Leona is a long time staunch supporter of human rights and environmental causes. Her favorite genre is m/m fiction and she particularly enjoys the sci fi, fantasyand action suspensesub-genres, especially if they have a nice seasoningof romance. She has far too many books on her Kindle, has overloaded her phone with even more, and when not reading,writing, being driven to distraction by her children,or being overlordedby her three cats, spends time trying to locate the portal that the sock monster uses to stealsocks from her dryer.
Links Louis J Harris louisjharris@cooldudespublishing.com
Kimi D Saunders (Writes as Leona Windwalker)https://twitter.com/ShroudedDancerhttps://www.facebook.com/pages/Leona-Windwalker/890405037684824?fref=ts
Frederick Eugene Feeley Jrwww.authorfefeeleyjr.wordpress.com
Mari Evanshttps://www.facebook.com/pages/Mari-Evans/1412324675676352
Shaye Evanshttps://www.facebook.com/ShayeLEvans?...
M. LeAnne Phoenixmleannephoenix.com FB: mleannephoenixTwitter: @MLPhoenix
CoolDudes Publishing https://www.facebook.com/pages/CoolDudes-Publishing/1524105151191706 https://twitter.com/search?q=cooldudes%20publishing&src=typd Twitter: (@lgbtpublisher) https://www.pinterest.com/cdgaypub/ https://plus.google.com/u/0/108242351...
EventsTo schedule author readings, signings, or other author events (virtual or live), please contact Louis J Harris at CoolDudes Publishing via email louisjharris@cooldudespublishing.com or by calling +27 83 784 9658
June 1, 2015
June 2015 Book of the Month: And the Band Played On
Book of the Month
Starting June 2015, I'm going to list one book that either had a great impact on me, or I just thoroughly enjoyed.
This month's book, And the Band Played On by Randy Shilts was the first book that took me out of my safe, self-involved, the government is my friend, zone. Each chapter I grew more and more angry and more and more sad as countless lives were ruined due to fear, bigotry and downright hate. It was this book that made me realize that love is love, in all its forms and shouldn't be confiled by what may or may not dangle between the legs. Read this during my college years and knew then I could never trust the government to look out for the well-being of people ... that is, unless you were male, straight, white, and rich. They just didn't care about HIV/AIDS until it effected one of their own, and even then, research and money moved at a snail's pace. And it wasn't just the government; scientists themselves bickered and bitched their way through the virus-hunting process, where, even to this day, French and US scientists cannot come to an agreement about who discovered what and when.
If you've seen the movie, it covers a lot of the book, but you don't get the whole story, and how can you in a two and half hour movie when compared to a 656-page novel. If it's been a while, I suggest reading the book again.
Starting June 2015, I'm going to list one book that either had a great impact on me, or I just thoroughly enjoyed.
This month's book, And the Band Played On by Randy Shilts was the first book that took me out of my safe, self-involved, the government is my friend, zone. Each chapter I grew more and more angry and more and more sad as countless lives were ruined due to fear, bigotry and downright hate. It was this book that made me realize that love is love, in all its forms and shouldn't be confiled by what may or may not dangle between the legs. Read this during my college years and knew then I could never trust the government to look out for the well-being of people ... that is, unless you were male, straight, white, and rich. They just didn't care about HIV/AIDS until it effected one of their own, and even then, research and money moved at a snail's pace. And it wasn't just the government; scientists themselves bickered and bitched their way through the virus-hunting process, where, even to this day, French and US scientists cannot come to an agreement about who discovered what and when.
If you've seen the movie, it covers a lot of the book, but you don't get the whole story, and how can you in a two and half hour movie when compared to a 656-page novel. If it's been a while, I suggest reading the book again.
April 6, 2015
Same-Sex Marriage & Wedding Cakes
Same-Sex Marriage & Wedding CakesIt's really very simple ...
(I must disclose I'm not a Constitutional scholar nor a lawyer, and this is all gleaned from my own research.)
"The Colorado Civil Rights Division has ruled that a baker who refused to make cakes with anti-gay messages did not discriminate." - Yahoo News, 4/6/15
Some people may be shaking their heads on this. How could one baker be guilty of discrimination for refusing to bake a cake for a gay wedding, but this one isn't for not putting an anti-gay message on a cake? It's really pretty simple, when you look at it. There are many differences in these cases.
Let's start with what a protected class is (discrimination can only occur to a protected class). Being gay is a protected class (in quite a few states, including Colorado). Being black is a protected class. Bring a woman is a protected class. Being an anti-gay bigot is not. Thus, no discrimination.
Okay, you don't like that simple reasoning. Try this:
There is a commerce clause in the Constitution. It states, in laymen's terms, that when a business opens to the public, they must serve the public. In the case with the baker refusing to provide a wedding cake, the baker refused to serve the public.
There is an implied contract between a customer and a business once the business has opened and the customer walks through the door. This implied contract means that whatever products or services the business provides, they must provide it to the customer.
(For the rest of this blog, I need to define who the parties are; Azucar Bakery is the one who refused to put an anti-gay message on a cake shaped like a bible; Masterpiece Cakeshop is the bakery that refused to make a cake for a gay wedding.)
Masterpiece is in the business of baking cakes, including wedding cakes. Once a customer (regardless of sex, race, religion, orientation, etc.) walks in the door, Masterpiece must provide that cake. They don't have to write anything on it (see next paragraph) but if they are in the business of providing wedding cakes, they have to provide the service. The only way they can get around it is if they form a co-op or private club where only members can take advantage of Masterpiece's products.
Private members clubs have a right to deny service. They are not serving the public, they are serving their members. (Which is why we still have men-only clubs and white-only clubs - it's true, we do. They are privately-owned and the members have to pay a usually hefty fee to join.)
Azucar is in the business of baking cakes, including bible cakes. But in this instance, she offered to bake the cake, but refused to put the hateful words on it. She is in the business of baking cakes, even bible cakes, but not the business of writing hateful messages on cakes. She did not refuse the product to the customer, thus she fulfilled her duty for being open to the public.
In Azucar's case, think of it this way; you go to a printer to have him/her print off your manuscript on how to be the biggest bigot, Neo-Nazi KKK hater in the world. The printer would print it out, thus providing the service, that is his/her duty for being open to the public. But if you ask the printer to WRITE the manuscript (or even tweak it), they can refuse. That's not their business.
But what about religious freedom you ask? Being a business open to the public trumps religious freedom. Try this on for size:
A Muslim opens a grocery story. A Hasidic Jew comes in, wanting a soda. The Muslim CANNOT force the Jew out onto the street, he has to sell him the soda. The grocery store is open to the public. Religion has to take a back seat.
And it works for everyone. A black person owns the bakery; a KKK member comes in and wants a donut. The KKK member is all tatted up with the most vile depictions of lynchings and name calling of black people. The owner still has to serve the KKK member. (Why a KKK member would go into a black-owned business, I'll never know, but I guess it could happen.)
I hope I've opened your eyes to the issues here. To look at these cases any other way opens up a whole can of worms and will lead to a very slippery slope indeed.
(I must disclose I'm not a Constitutional scholar nor a lawyer, and this is all gleaned from my own research.)
"The Colorado Civil Rights Division has ruled that a baker who refused to make cakes with anti-gay messages did not discriminate." - Yahoo News, 4/6/15
Some people may be shaking their heads on this. How could one baker be guilty of discrimination for refusing to bake a cake for a gay wedding, but this one isn't for not putting an anti-gay message on a cake? It's really pretty simple, when you look at it. There are many differences in these cases.
Let's start with what a protected class is (discrimination can only occur to a protected class). Being gay is a protected class (in quite a few states, including Colorado). Being black is a protected class. Bring a woman is a protected class. Being an anti-gay bigot is not. Thus, no discrimination.
Okay, you don't like that simple reasoning. Try this:
There is a commerce clause in the Constitution. It states, in laymen's terms, that when a business opens to the public, they must serve the public. In the case with the baker refusing to provide a wedding cake, the baker refused to serve the public.
There is an implied contract between a customer and a business once the business has opened and the customer walks through the door. This implied contract means that whatever products or services the business provides, they must provide it to the customer.
(For the rest of this blog, I need to define who the parties are; Azucar Bakery is the one who refused to put an anti-gay message on a cake shaped like a bible; Masterpiece Cakeshop is the bakery that refused to make a cake for a gay wedding.)
Masterpiece is in the business of baking cakes, including wedding cakes. Once a customer (regardless of sex, race, religion, orientation, etc.) walks in the door, Masterpiece must provide that cake. They don't have to write anything on it (see next paragraph) but if they are in the business of providing wedding cakes, they have to provide the service. The only way they can get around it is if they form a co-op or private club where only members can take advantage of Masterpiece's products.
Private members clubs have a right to deny service. They are not serving the public, they are serving their members. (Which is why we still have men-only clubs and white-only clubs - it's true, we do. They are privately-owned and the members have to pay a usually hefty fee to join.)
Azucar is in the business of baking cakes, including bible cakes. But in this instance, she offered to bake the cake, but refused to put the hateful words on it. She is in the business of baking cakes, even bible cakes, but not the business of writing hateful messages on cakes. She did not refuse the product to the customer, thus she fulfilled her duty for being open to the public.
In Azucar's case, think of it this way; you go to a printer to have him/her print off your manuscript on how to be the biggest bigot, Neo-Nazi KKK hater in the world. The printer would print it out, thus providing the service, that is his/her duty for being open to the public. But if you ask the printer to WRITE the manuscript (or even tweak it), they can refuse. That's not their business.
But what about religious freedom you ask? Being a business open to the public trumps religious freedom. Try this on for size:
A Muslim opens a grocery story. A Hasidic Jew comes in, wanting a soda. The Muslim CANNOT force the Jew out onto the street, he has to sell him the soda. The grocery store is open to the public. Religion has to take a back seat.
And it works for everyone. A black person owns the bakery; a KKK member comes in and wants a donut. The KKK member is all tatted up with the most vile depictions of lynchings and name calling of black people. The owner still has to serve the KKK member. (Why a KKK member would go into a black-owned business, I'll never know, but I guess it could happen.)
I hope I've opened your eyes to the issues here. To look at these cases any other way opens up a whole can of worms and will lead to a very slippery slope indeed.
March 19, 2015
Guest author - Anna Butler
First, I wish to apologize to Ms. Butler; this was supposed to go up on March 16th, but due to a personal crisis, I am just now getting it up. I do apologize to her for the delay.
Explain that to me again, would you?
Neither of my two new releases, The Gilded Scarab and Gyrfalcon, are set in our contemporary world. Scarab is an alternate, steampunk London of 1900, and I’m not entirely convinced Gyrfalcon is even in this galaxy.
Certainly a long, long way across it, anyway.In some ways, that offers tremendous scope for building my own worlds and since that’s something I just love doing, I was, as you can imagine, stoked about the opportunities.
The hard bit came with explaining those worlds to the reader without going into acres and acres of exposition. That can be so jarring, it isn’t true. The first time I read David Weber’s Honor Harrington books, I was happily gobbling up the action as our heroine had her spaceship chasing after the baddies at light speed—at which point her ship slammed its nose into about six pages of Weber telling us how faster-than-light travel was done in the Harrington Universe. Aaand back to the chase again… To say that it shot his pacing to hell and back is an understatement.
In The Gilded Scarab, I have a first person narrator. I found that made the explaining of a steampunk world, ruled by a system of powerful Houses in an oligarchy where influence is everything, actually very much easier than I had anticipated. The hero tells us: in his experiences, his reactions to them, in dialogue with the other characters, in acidic little asides as he’s recounting his adventures. Using Rafe as narrator allows the world picture to grow slowly, with no huge sections of exposition, and the reader gets everything in Rafe’s own, sardonic ‘voice’. It works for me—and I hope for the reader, too.
Gyrfalcon, though, was harder. While Rafe’s story was helped by being in a place recognisably London, only skewed a molecule or two to the left, Gyrfalcon is set somewhere way across the galaxy. There was much more to try and convey: that this is a colony of Earth in the far, far future, that Earth itself is dead and gone, that this colony is at war—and losing. And again, trying to do this without going for the Weber effect of a wall of technobabble. Where to drop the explanations in, and how?
Here’s some of the things I learned:(i) Use it sparingly. Only tell what the reader really, really must know. James Scott Bell says use three lines in the first ten pages, and no more than three paragraphs in the next ten. Sound advice, if hard to follow.(ii) Can you convey it in dialogue? Real dialogue, not the sort of thing that has a wife saying to her husband, “Betty, our adopted daughter, is…”. That might have the merit of establishing with the reader that this couple has an adopted daughter called Betty, but really, shouldn’t the husband know that already? And that bit of dialogue, by the way, is from an Agatha Christie novel.(iii) The same principles apply to books in a series. Keep the recapping to the same level in subsequent books, and use the same techniques. Very helpful for me, since Gyrfalcon is the first of six books.
I don’t think I got it perfectly right, but I hope what is there doesn’t throw itself up like a wall in front of my hero while he’s chasing after Maess drones!
What’s your take, reader or writer, on how worlds should be explained? I’d love to hear your views.
The Gilded Scarab
BLURB
When Captain Rafe Lancaster is invalided out of the Britannic Imperium’s Aero Corps after crashing his aerofighter during the Second Boer War, his eyesight is damaged permanently, and his career as a fighter pilot is over. Returning to Londinium in late November 1899, he’s lost the skies he loved, has no place in a society ruled by an elite oligarchy of powerful Houses, and is hard up, homeless, and in desperate need of a new direction in life.
Everything changes when he buys a coffeehouse near the Britannic Imperium Museum in Bloomsbury, the haunt of Aegyptologists. For the first time in years, Rafe is free to be himself. In a city powered by luminiferous aether and phlogiston, and where powerful men use House assassins to target their rivals, Rafe must navigate dangerous politics, deal with a jealous and possessive ex-lover, learn to make the best coffee in Londinium, and fend off murder and kidnap attempts before he can find happiness with the man he loves.
(Cover by Reese Dante)
EXCERPT
Whenever someone asks how my life came to take such a sharp and unexpected turn—and they do ask, because people are insatiably nosy—they get my most charming smile. I know it’s charming because I practice it every morning in my shaving mirror. It’s devastating.
It’s even better without the shaving soap.
The short answer is “I crashed one of the old Queen’s aerofighters into the African veldt, fighting the Boers.”
The timing is the most important thing. Wait a heartbeat, savor a mouthful of the best coffee in Londinium while they absorb that, and as their mouths open to ask more questions, drop in the next line.
“At Koffiefontein.”
I put a little gap between the syllables so they can’t miss it. Koffie—pause—fontein.
Some of them laugh. The clever ones, the ones who see the delicious irony when they think about how my life changed. How I changed. Not all of them do. Most people are… how shall I put this? Not the brightest lucifer in the box. It takes them a few minutes to understand before they snigger and nudge their companion with a “Koffie! Like coffee, see. One of them Boer places, likely. Coffee fountain or some such. That’s rich!”
No. Definitely not the brightest.
I saw the irony at once, though. Given my life since then, it had to be some sort of divine joke, a little prod to the ribs from the Almighty. “Wake up, Rafe Lancaster, and pay attention! Change is coming.”
It was a sign, of sorts. The first step into a new life when the old one was taken from me, sending me in the right direction—the crash at Koffiefontein, selling my mother’s jewels, reopening relations with my House, and yes, even the scarab. All of those things came into play.
Mostly it was luck. The famous Lancaster luck. They should name things after it. Ships, or aerofighters.
Or perhaps a racehorse.
WHERE TO BUY THE GILDED SCARAB
Dreamspinner as an ebook and in paperback.
From an Amazon near you (Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk links for starters)
All Romance as an ebook
Gyrfalcon
BLURB
Earth’s last known colony, Albion, is fighting an alien enemy. In the first of the Taking Shield series, Shield Captain Bennet is dropped behind the lines to steal priceless intelligence. A dangerous job, and Bennet doesn’t need the distractions of changing relationships with his long-term partner, Joss, or with his father—or with Flynn, the new lover who will turn his world upside-down. He expects to risk his life. He expects the data will alter the course of the war. What he doesn’t expect is that it will change his life or that Flynn will be impossible to forget.
EXCERPT
A shadow fell over the page. Someone was standing in front of his table. He shot a fast look up through his lashes, and returned his gaze to the book. Thought so.
Bennet turned the page. “Good evening, Lieutenant.”
“You don’t often see one of those outside a museum,” Flynn said. “Most people use datapads.”
Bennet smiled. “Me too, usually, but this was a present.”
Flynn mimed interest and Bennet obligingly turned the book so that he could see the spine. Flynn made an exaggerated wince. “A bit of light reading, I see. A History of the Theban Peoples, Volume sixty-three.” He looked blank. “How many are there?”
“Volumes? Eighty seven.”
“And you have them all?”
Bennet nodded. “A graduation present from my parents.”
His mother’s idea, probably, since he and his father still hadn’t been on good terms. There were too many sharp words between them about Bennet’s selfishness and perversion. To Caeden the books symbolised what he considered to be Bennet’s fall from grace, every selfish choice Bennet had made from refusing to go to the Military Academy when he left school, to falling under Joss’s spell at the Thebaid.
Caeden hadn’t come to his graduation from the Thebaid. On a mission, Meriel had said, but Bennet hadn’t been fooled for a minute. He reckoned that his mother had forged his father’s signature on the card that came with the books. She’d definitely made up the bit about ‘all our love’.
“That’s not how it’s supposed to go,” Flynn said. “They’re supposed to buy you a fast red sports car. If I were you, I’d complain and make them do the right thing.”
Bennet laughed. Joss had looked like a cat with its head in a cream jug when they’d come out of the Thebaid together, the day of his graduation, and there it was, parked directly at the foot of the wide, sweeping stairs at the main door: the shiniest, reddest, fastest sports car that Bennet could ever have dreamed of. He still had it. “I got the car from someone else.”
“Red and fast?”
“Very red and very fast. Are you joining me, Flynn?”
“I came over to invite you to join us.” Flynn nodded at a table where a number of officers were sitting. “Thing is, this morning was a bit basic. We didn’t buy your artless performance, by the way.”
Bennet nodded, fighting to keep his mouth from curving up. “You think I was up to something?”
“Of course you were. I’m just wondering what you were looking for.”
“And if I got what I wanted?” Bennet issued a fair and friendly warning. “I should tell you, Flynn, that I don’t drink very much and I’m trained not to say a lot even when I do.”
“I don’t know whether to be more appalled at your lack of trust in your fellow man or at how transparent I am.” Flynn grinned at him and it was remarkably attractive, slightly lopsided, and only the sheer good humour kept it this side of insolent. “I’ll be good.”
That grin decided it. Flynn was altogether too pretty as it was and that grin should have carried a health and safety warning. Bennet closed the book and stood up, picking up his beer. “Sure you will. Which one of them have you set up to be bad?”
WHERE TO BUY
Gyrfalcon is available as an ebook at Wilde City Press (a print version will follow soon) and from an Amazon near you (Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk links for starters)
GIVEAWAYComment here and get an entry in a rafflecopter to win an Amazon gift card (drawn when the blog tour is over at the end of March).
Please click here for Rafflecopter Giveaway
In addition, one commentator chosen at complete close-eyes-stick-a-pin-in-it random will get their choice of a little pack of Gilded Scarab or Gyrfalcon loot and a free copy of FlashWired (a gay mainstream sci-fi novella).
ABOUT ANNAAnna Butler was a communications specialist for many years, working in UK government departments on everything from marketing employment schemes to running an internal TV service. She now spends her time indulging her love of old-school science fiction. She lives in the ethnic and cultural melting pot of East London with her husband and the Deputy Editor, aka Molly the cockapoo.
Find Anna: Website and BlogFacebookThe Butler’s Pantry (Facebook Group)PinterestTwitter
Explain that to me again, would you?
Neither of my two new releases, The Gilded Scarab and Gyrfalcon, are set in our contemporary world. Scarab is an alternate, steampunk London of 1900, and I’m not entirely convinced Gyrfalcon is even in this galaxy.
Certainly a long, long way across it, anyway.In some ways, that offers tremendous scope for building my own worlds and since that’s something I just love doing, I was, as you can imagine, stoked about the opportunities.
The hard bit came with explaining those worlds to the reader without going into acres and acres of exposition. That can be so jarring, it isn’t true. The first time I read David Weber’s Honor Harrington books, I was happily gobbling up the action as our heroine had her spaceship chasing after the baddies at light speed—at which point her ship slammed its nose into about six pages of Weber telling us how faster-than-light travel was done in the Harrington Universe. Aaand back to the chase again… To say that it shot his pacing to hell and back is an understatement.
In The Gilded Scarab, I have a first person narrator. I found that made the explaining of a steampunk world, ruled by a system of powerful Houses in an oligarchy where influence is everything, actually very much easier than I had anticipated. The hero tells us: in his experiences, his reactions to them, in dialogue with the other characters, in acidic little asides as he’s recounting his adventures. Using Rafe as narrator allows the world picture to grow slowly, with no huge sections of exposition, and the reader gets everything in Rafe’s own, sardonic ‘voice’. It works for me—and I hope for the reader, too.
Gyrfalcon, though, was harder. While Rafe’s story was helped by being in a place recognisably London, only skewed a molecule or two to the left, Gyrfalcon is set somewhere way across the galaxy. There was much more to try and convey: that this is a colony of Earth in the far, far future, that Earth itself is dead and gone, that this colony is at war—and losing. And again, trying to do this without going for the Weber effect of a wall of technobabble. Where to drop the explanations in, and how?
Here’s some of the things I learned:(i) Use it sparingly. Only tell what the reader really, really must know. James Scott Bell says use three lines in the first ten pages, and no more than three paragraphs in the next ten. Sound advice, if hard to follow.(ii) Can you convey it in dialogue? Real dialogue, not the sort of thing that has a wife saying to her husband, “Betty, our adopted daughter, is…”. That might have the merit of establishing with the reader that this couple has an adopted daughter called Betty, but really, shouldn’t the husband know that already? And that bit of dialogue, by the way, is from an Agatha Christie novel.(iii) The same principles apply to books in a series. Keep the recapping to the same level in subsequent books, and use the same techniques. Very helpful for me, since Gyrfalcon is the first of six books.
I don’t think I got it perfectly right, but I hope what is there doesn’t throw itself up like a wall in front of my hero while he’s chasing after Maess drones!
What’s your take, reader or writer, on how worlds should be explained? I’d love to hear your views.
The Gilded Scarab
BLURB
When Captain Rafe Lancaster is invalided out of the Britannic Imperium’s Aero Corps after crashing his aerofighter during the Second Boer War, his eyesight is damaged permanently, and his career as a fighter pilot is over. Returning to Londinium in late November 1899, he’s lost the skies he loved, has no place in a society ruled by an elite oligarchy of powerful Houses, and is hard up, homeless, and in desperate need of a new direction in life.
Everything changes when he buys a coffeehouse near the Britannic Imperium Museum in Bloomsbury, the haunt of Aegyptologists. For the first time in years, Rafe is free to be himself. In a city powered by luminiferous aether and phlogiston, and where powerful men use House assassins to target their rivals, Rafe must navigate dangerous politics, deal with a jealous and possessive ex-lover, learn to make the best coffee in Londinium, and fend off murder and kidnap attempts before he can find happiness with the man he loves.
(Cover by Reese Dante)
EXCERPT
Whenever someone asks how my life came to take such a sharp and unexpected turn—and they do ask, because people are insatiably nosy—they get my most charming smile. I know it’s charming because I practice it every morning in my shaving mirror. It’s devastating.
It’s even better without the shaving soap.
The short answer is “I crashed one of the old Queen’s aerofighters into the African veldt, fighting the Boers.”
The timing is the most important thing. Wait a heartbeat, savor a mouthful of the best coffee in Londinium while they absorb that, and as their mouths open to ask more questions, drop in the next line.
“At Koffiefontein.”
I put a little gap between the syllables so they can’t miss it. Koffie—pause—fontein.
Some of them laugh. The clever ones, the ones who see the delicious irony when they think about how my life changed. How I changed. Not all of them do. Most people are… how shall I put this? Not the brightest lucifer in the box. It takes them a few minutes to understand before they snigger and nudge their companion with a “Koffie! Like coffee, see. One of them Boer places, likely. Coffee fountain or some such. That’s rich!”
No. Definitely not the brightest.
I saw the irony at once, though. Given my life since then, it had to be some sort of divine joke, a little prod to the ribs from the Almighty. “Wake up, Rafe Lancaster, and pay attention! Change is coming.”
It was a sign, of sorts. The first step into a new life when the old one was taken from me, sending me in the right direction—the crash at Koffiefontein, selling my mother’s jewels, reopening relations with my House, and yes, even the scarab. All of those things came into play.
Mostly it was luck. The famous Lancaster luck. They should name things after it. Ships, or aerofighters.
Or perhaps a racehorse.
WHERE TO BUY THE GILDED SCARAB
Dreamspinner as an ebook and in paperback.
From an Amazon near you (Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk links for starters)
All Romance as an ebook
Gyrfalcon
BLURB
Earth’s last known colony, Albion, is fighting an alien enemy. In the first of the Taking Shield series, Shield Captain Bennet is dropped behind the lines to steal priceless intelligence. A dangerous job, and Bennet doesn’t need the distractions of changing relationships with his long-term partner, Joss, or with his father—or with Flynn, the new lover who will turn his world upside-down. He expects to risk his life. He expects the data will alter the course of the war. What he doesn’t expect is that it will change his life or that Flynn will be impossible to forget.
EXCERPT
A shadow fell over the page. Someone was standing in front of his table. He shot a fast look up through his lashes, and returned his gaze to the book. Thought so.
Bennet turned the page. “Good evening, Lieutenant.”
“You don’t often see one of those outside a museum,” Flynn said. “Most people use datapads.”
Bennet smiled. “Me too, usually, but this was a present.”
Flynn mimed interest and Bennet obligingly turned the book so that he could see the spine. Flynn made an exaggerated wince. “A bit of light reading, I see. A History of the Theban Peoples, Volume sixty-three.” He looked blank. “How many are there?”
“Volumes? Eighty seven.”
“And you have them all?”
Bennet nodded. “A graduation present from my parents.”
His mother’s idea, probably, since he and his father still hadn’t been on good terms. There were too many sharp words between them about Bennet’s selfishness and perversion. To Caeden the books symbolised what he considered to be Bennet’s fall from grace, every selfish choice Bennet had made from refusing to go to the Military Academy when he left school, to falling under Joss’s spell at the Thebaid.
Caeden hadn’t come to his graduation from the Thebaid. On a mission, Meriel had said, but Bennet hadn’t been fooled for a minute. He reckoned that his mother had forged his father’s signature on the card that came with the books. She’d definitely made up the bit about ‘all our love’.
“That’s not how it’s supposed to go,” Flynn said. “They’re supposed to buy you a fast red sports car. If I were you, I’d complain and make them do the right thing.”
Bennet laughed. Joss had looked like a cat with its head in a cream jug when they’d come out of the Thebaid together, the day of his graduation, and there it was, parked directly at the foot of the wide, sweeping stairs at the main door: the shiniest, reddest, fastest sports car that Bennet could ever have dreamed of. He still had it. “I got the car from someone else.”
“Red and fast?”
“Very red and very fast. Are you joining me, Flynn?”
“I came over to invite you to join us.” Flynn nodded at a table where a number of officers were sitting. “Thing is, this morning was a bit basic. We didn’t buy your artless performance, by the way.”
Bennet nodded, fighting to keep his mouth from curving up. “You think I was up to something?”
“Of course you were. I’m just wondering what you were looking for.”
“And if I got what I wanted?” Bennet issued a fair and friendly warning. “I should tell you, Flynn, that I don’t drink very much and I’m trained not to say a lot even when I do.”
“I don’t know whether to be more appalled at your lack of trust in your fellow man or at how transparent I am.” Flynn grinned at him and it was remarkably attractive, slightly lopsided, and only the sheer good humour kept it this side of insolent. “I’ll be good.”
That grin decided it. Flynn was altogether too pretty as it was and that grin should have carried a health and safety warning. Bennet closed the book and stood up, picking up his beer. “Sure you will. Which one of them have you set up to be bad?”
WHERE TO BUY
Gyrfalcon is available as an ebook at Wilde City Press (a print version will follow soon) and from an Amazon near you (Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk links for starters)
GIVEAWAYComment here and get an entry in a rafflecopter to win an Amazon gift card (drawn when the blog tour is over at the end of March).
Please click here for Rafflecopter Giveaway
In addition, one commentator chosen at complete close-eyes-stick-a-pin-in-it random will get their choice of a little pack of Gilded Scarab or Gyrfalcon loot and a free copy of FlashWired (a gay mainstream sci-fi novella).
ABOUT ANNAAnna Butler was a communications specialist for many years, working in UK government departments on everything from marketing employment schemes to running an internal TV service. She now spends her time indulging her love of old-school science fiction. She lives in the ethnic and cultural melting pot of East London with her husband and the Deputy Editor, aka Molly the cockapoo.
Find Anna: Website and BlogFacebookThe Butler’s Pantry (Facebook Group)PinterestTwitter
February 13, 2015
It's Valentine's Day
Overheard an acquaintance lamenting Valentine's Day. No, she's not single, no her SO hadn't forgotten ... she was complaining that her SO hadn't gotten her roses and had 'only' planned a dinner and movie out and had 'only' gotten her a 'trinket' of a necklace. (He gave it to her early so she could wear it on their dinner.)
I wanted to throttle her.
No, not because I've never received stuff like that, not because I'm single and jealous. No, I'm mad because she doesn't appreciate what she has. That she doesn't appreciate what her SO went out of his way to do for her on his limited budget (they both are in college). That trinket of a necklace cost at least $100. Dinner and movie (with alcohol, I'm assuming), another $100. So he's spending $200 and she doesn't appreciate it?
You know something bitch? I would TREASURE a hand-made card and an evening watching a DVD at home with someone. It's the memory you make that counts. It's not the things you collect that's going to matter in your old age. It's the memories that will be priceless. On your deathbed, will you be clutching that necklace or the hand of your loved one? I certainly hope it's the latter.
I HATE that holidays (even made-up ones like Valentine's Day) have become so commercialized that women (and some men) EXPECT something grand and romantic. You know what you'll probably remember better? The single rose he gives you just because it's Monday or that silly seashell bracelet he got at the airport on one of his business trips just because he missed you. Or that Sunday he brought you breakfast in bed, or that Wednesday he offered to cook from his limited cooking skills because you had a bad day.
You'll remember the time he held your hand when you were sick; you'll remember the time you laughed so hard when he tried to surprise you by starting some laundry and a red sock turned his boxers pink.
In 30 years, will you remember what you ate and what movie you watched on Valentine's Day 2015? Unless you're a good journal keeper, probably not. Eh, you might remember the necklace if it doesn't get lost in ensuing moves or the during the mis-mash of life that will happen over the decades. But I doubt it.
So, for those of you with SOs out there, if they bring you flowers, of course, be gracious, be excited, be romantic, but don't be disappointed if the flowers, or chocolate, or teddy bears bearing jewelry don't appear. Enjoy that your SO is alive and well, that he/she is there with you, today, Valentine's Day 2015. Create memories that you can relive and enjoy. Don't concentrate on the 'things' in life. They won't matter at the end.
There is nothing more in the world that I want than to create a memory with someone. To go out and play in the snow with someone, to eat leftovers and watch a DVD, to laugh and enjoy the evening with someone. I don't NEED things - I NEED memories.
But, for those that still want flowers, here is the most expensive Valentine's Day bouquet from Teleflora:
$410 WITHOUT the delivery charge. Don't say I never gave you anything.
I wanted to throttle her.
No, not because I've never received stuff like that, not because I'm single and jealous. No, I'm mad because she doesn't appreciate what she has. That she doesn't appreciate what her SO went out of his way to do for her on his limited budget (they both are in college). That trinket of a necklace cost at least $100. Dinner and movie (with alcohol, I'm assuming), another $100. So he's spending $200 and she doesn't appreciate it?
You know something bitch? I would TREASURE a hand-made card and an evening watching a DVD at home with someone. It's the memory you make that counts. It's not the things you collect that's going to matter in your old age. It's the memories that will be priceless. On your deathbed, will you be clutching that necklace or the hand of your loved one? I certainly hope it's the latter.
I HATE that holidays (even made-up ones like Valentine's Day) have become so commercialized that women (and some men) EXPECT something grand and romantic. You know what you'll probably remember better? The single rose he gives you just because it's Monday or that silly seashell bracelet he got at the airport on one of his business trips just because he missed you. Or that Sunday he brought you breakfast in bed, or that Wednesday he offered to cook from his limited cooking skills because you had a bad day.
You'll remember the time he held your hand when you were sick; you'll remember the time you laughed so hard when he tried to surprise you by starting some laundry and a red sock turned his boxers pink.
In 30 years, will you remember what you ate and what movie you watched on Valentine's Day 2015? Unless you're a good journal keeper, probably not. Eh, you might remember the necklace if it doesn't get lost in ensuing moves or the during the mis-mash of life that will happen over the decades. But I doubt it.
So, for those of you with SOs out there, if they bring you flowers, of course, be gracious, be excited, be romantic, but don't be disappointed if the flowers, or chocolate, or teddy bears bearing jewelry don't appear. Enjoy that your SO is alive and well, that he/she is there with you, today, Valentine's Day 2015. Create memories that you can relive and enjoy. Don't concentrate on the 'things' in life. They won't matter at the end.
There is nothing more in the world that I want than to create a memory with someone. To go out and play in the snow with someone, to eat leftovers and watch a DVD, to laugh and enjoy the evening with someone. I don't NEED things - I NEED memories.
But, for those that still want flowers, here is the most expensive Valentine's Day bouquet from Teleflora:
$410 WITHOUT the delivery charge. Don't say I never gave you anything.
December 21, 2014
Happy Winter Solstice and Some Random Thoughs ...
Happy Winter Solstice!
May you be surrounded by loved ones on this longest night of the year.
Now, for some random thoughts:
Just saw the third Hobbit movie (3? Why? It's a 247-page novel!) at the theatre. I didn't see the first two in the theatre, but wanted to hang with friends, so I went. It wasn't worth it to see it in 3-D in my opinion, but with my weird eyesight, 3-D always isn't worth it.
So, it was fun and I did tear up at the end. My fave dwarf (Kili) dies, but he dies in the book, so wasn't truly surprised. Wish though he could have at least had a kiss with Tauriel.
Now my question is, with hobbits wanting to eat six to seven times a day, is this the reason Bilbo was gone for two and a half years? They had to stop every two hours to eat? (I'm joking, but it does beg the question - is the group that awesome of hunters and gatherers that they survived such trials and tribulations for two and a half years? Perhaps yes for hunting, but you gotta stave off scurvy and the like, right?)
But for a serious question - will Peter Jackson go back to the original three movies and replace Ian Holms with Martin Freeman in the 'Bilbo steals the ring' flashback? I hope he doesn't go all George Lucas on us.
And while we're on Middle Earth - am I the only one who wishes Jackson could get the rights to 'The Silmarillion'? I would love to see the elves again.
Tangent ...
Was watching 'Weird Science' last night. If we could time travel, I'd go back to let RDJ (well, at the time, he was just RD) that he'd be a serious actor AND get to play Iron Man. See if that blows his mind. (BTW - you could definitely see the beginning of the drug use in this film.)
And on that note ...
Do you think some serious actors wished their earliest works would just disappear? You know they do.
Last random thought for the day ...
I want a Rocket Raccoon plush toy for Christmas.
Well, I REALLY love a Dancing Baby Groot, but he's not out yet.
Until later.
May you be surrounded by loved ones on this longest night of the year.
Now, for some random thoughts:
Just saw the third Hobbit movie (3? Why? It's a 247-page novel!) at the theatre. I didn't see the first two in the theatre, but wanted to hang with friends, so I went. It wasn't worth it to see it in 3-D in my opinion, but with my weird eyesight, 3-D always isn't worth it.
So, it was fun and I did tear up at the end. My fave dwarf (Kili) dies, but he dies in the book, so wasn't truly surprised. Wish though he could have at least had a kiss with Tauriel.
Now my question is, with hobbits wanting to eat six to seven times a day, is this the reason Bilbo was gone for two and a half years? They had to stop every two hours to eat? (I'm joking, but it does beg the question - is the group that awesome of hunters and gatherers that they survived such trials and tribulations for two and a half years? Perhaps yes for hunting, but you gotta stave off scurvy and the like, right?)
But for a serious question - will Peter Jackson go back to the original three movies and replace Ian Holms with Martin Freeman in the 'Bilbo steals the ring' flashback? I hope he doesn't go all George Lucas on us.
And while we're on Middle Earth - am I the only one who wishes Jackson could get the rights to 'The Silmarillion'? I would love to see the elves again.
Tangent ...
Was watching 'Weird Science' last night. If we could time travel, I'd go back to let RDJ (well, at the time, he was just RD) that he'd be a serious actor AND get to play Iron Man. See if that blows his mind. (BTW - you could definitely see the beginning of the drug use in this film.)
And on that note ...
Do you think some serious actors wished their earliest works would just disappear? You know they do.
Last random thought for the day ...
I want a Rocket Raccoon plush toy for Christmas.
Well, I REALLY love a Dancing Baby Groot, but he's not out yet.
Until later.
November 27, 2014
Guest Author - Layla M. Weir
Hi Sherrie! Thanks so much for having me! I'm blog touring for my new novel Held For Ransom, set during Christmastime in a small town in Illinois.
Today I am also having a release party on Dreamspinner Press's blog (http://dreamspinnerpress.com/blog/), so please come by and check that out too if you get a chance!
For those of us in the U.S., today is the point when the ramp-up to Christmas begins in earnest -- Thanksgiving is over, Black Friday is here, and most of us are looking forward to the holiday season with some combination of delight and dread. I admit that for me, despite being your basic secular humanist atheist and therefore not involved in the religious aspects of the holiday, the delight tends to overwhelm the dread. Okay, yeah, there are always those terribly awkward family members to shop for, and the usual handful of family Christmases we don't like to talk about when things went dreadfully wrong. But for the most part, the Christmas season is one of my favorite times of year. I still have a childish delight in the brightly colored lights, the festive store displays, the Christmas music on the radio and the special holiday episodes of all my favorite TV shows. (Okay, maybe I could do without the same Macy's ad on TV every other commercial break ...)
It's not that I don't understand why some people hate the holiday season and brace themselves for it with despair. It's over-commercialized, the stores bring out the decorations in freakin' August(or at least it seems that way), and the obligation of having to shop for every relative under the sun strips out a lot of the fun of gift-giving ... and I feel for the plight of the non-celebrants at this time of year, who must be trapped in what seems like an inescapable, never-ending holly-filled purgatory.
But, yeah, I'm going to be that person who trots out all my holiday icons and wanders down the craft aisles at Michael's to smell the fake cinnamon potpourri. I know the holiday isn't perfect, but I find myself wallowing even in its less perfect aspects. Yeah, I like the stupid mall Santas and the dopy fake wreaths on the downtown lampposts, and even if I flip the radio channel at the first strains of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer", it's also with a certain wry indulgence (in addition to the cursing).
And so, in some ways, this is what Held For Ransom is all about, I guess. It's my personal paean to the Christmas holiday season -- the good, the bad, and the dreadfully awkward.
Here's an excerpt in which DJ Lanning, one half of the novel's main pairing, contemplates his own Christmas-related problems.
Excerpt:
Typically, three days before the annual Christmas carnival, the ball field would be echoing with the ring of hammers and the cheerful cries of volunteers as they put up the booths. This year no one had given any thought about the carnival—least of all DJ Lanning, until he started getting panicked calls from his mother’s friends a week prior. For the past twenty years, his mother had been organizing the whole thing by herself, and no one knew how anything was done. Vivian Lanning had obtained the necessary permits, called all the vendors, put together the fundraisers, and bought exactly enough of everything from bratwurst to balloons.
Now with his father on a ’round-the-world, post-midlife crisis, and his sister in Chicago, he was the only member of the Lanning family readily available—and therefore, the one who would save them all.
I can’t even save myself; how can I save the whole town?
He rose stiffly, brushed bits of dead grass off his coat, and picked up the manila envelope full of flyers. One of them was clipped to the outside. DJ had hacked them together the night before in Microsoft Word and printed them out on the black-and-white laser printer at home. He should probably call Inga back and let her know that he’d already media blitzed every lamppost in the whole two-block downtown, but he couldn’t deal with her agitated energy on top of his gloomy mood. She probably wanted to ask him some question he didn’t know the answer to—where Vivian’s records were for the fundraising bake sales, who to call at the Tri-City Gazette about running an ad, where the plans for putting together the dismantled booths had gotten off to.
How his mother had managed to keep this bunch organized was beyond him. Vivian had never seemed like a together kind of person. She was, in fact, the classic absentminded professor, with her flyaway hair and her habit of forgetting everything from her reading glasses to the water boiling away on the stove. Her desk, at home and at her office on campus, had been a disastrous drift of papers. DJ was still finding Post-it notes stuck on random surfaces—his mother’s desperate attempt at stemming her life’s slide into entropy—which he didn’t have the heart to remove. She’d always been on the phone to someone, usually while doing a dozen other things badly.
And yet somehow she’d made her mad juggling act work. She’d kept all the balls in the air—wife, mother, English professor, member of every committee in Heatherfield County—and only dropped a few. Even during the past year, when she was weak and frail from cancer, she still ran the carnival committee and made it a success.
But that was half the problem this year. In the last months of her life, his mother had been dropping more balls than she kept up. Drugs, pain, and a never-ending regimen of chemotherapy and doctor’s visits made her forgetful. At times during the lead-up to Christmas last year, she’d been sleeping sixteen hours a day. No one could have managed everything she tried to do. If she’d handed it off to someone when there was still time to explain how everything was done—
But she couldn’t do that without admitting she was in the final months of her life. And Vivian hadn’t been able to. Neither could her husband and children, and neither could her friends, who included nearly everyone in Osmar. So we all went on pretending Mom was going to get better, and then she crashed. And now she’s gone, and we’re all left picking up the pieces.
DJ taped a flyer to the light pole before the river bridge, just below the Christmas wreath that the town council had hung, and then crossed to the middle of the bridge. From there he had a panoramic view of the town—what there was of it.Held For Ransom
by Layla M. Wier
Genre: M/M Contemporary RomancePublisher: Dreamspinner Press
Length: Novel/200 pages
Release Date: Nov. 14, 2014
Blurb:
Two weeks before Christmas, the small town of Osmar is gearing up for its annual winter carnival, but the death of the event’s long-time organizer might mean the end of the festivities. Everyone is turning to her son DJ to save the carnival, but DJ can barely save himself. He's spinning his wheels in Osmar—working part time at the gas station, living in his parents' house, and trying to figure out what to do with his life. DJ is caught in a large, loving web of well-meaning family and friends, but they can't fix his life for him. Into this mess comes Ransom, a handsome mystery man on a motorcycle. Ransom is traveling around the country, making up for his past sins by doing “good deeds.” He and DJ have a one-night stand that neither can forget, but that's just the start, because Ransom has a plan to save the carnival, and DJ has a plan to save Ransom… and possibly himself.
Buy Links:
Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5679
About Layla:
Layla M. Wier is a writer and artist who grew up in rural Alaska and now lives on the highway north of Fairbanks, where winters dip to 50 below zero and summers yield 24 hours of daylight. She and her husband, between the two of them, possess a useful array of survival skills for the zombie apocalypse, including gardening, blacksmithing, collecting wild plant foods, and spinning wool into yarn (which led to her first Dreamspinner Press novella, "Homespun"). When not writing, she likes reading, hiking, and spending way too much time on the Internet.
Where to find Layla:
Blog: http://laylawier.wordpress.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Layla_in_Alaska
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laylamwier
Tumblr: http://laylainalaska.tumblr.com
Stops on the Held for Ransom blog tour (Nov. 12-Dec. 1)
Wednesday, Nov. 12: Anne Barwell - http://annebarwell.wordpress.com/
Friday, Nov. 14: RELEASE DAY! Charley Descoteaux - http://cdescoteauxwrites.com/blog/
Monday, Nov. 17: Shae Connor - http://shaeconnorwrites.com/
... and ...
**ALL-DAY RELEASE PARTY** on Facebook and Wordpress
http://laylawier.wordpress.com - https://www.facebook.com/laylamwier
Wednesday, Nov. 19: Grace Duncan - http://www.grace-duncan.com
Friday, Nov. 21: Jana DeNardo - http://jana-denardo.livejournal.com
Monday, Nov. 24: Anna Butler - http://annabutlerfiction.com/blog/
Wednesday, Nov. 26: Aidee Ladnier - http://www.aideeladnier.com/
Friday, Nov. 28: Sherrie Henry - http://sherriehenry.blogspot.com/
Monday, Dec. 1: Because Two Men Are Better Than One - http://becausetwomenarebetterthanone.com/
November 23, 2014
Don't Give In! Resist the Urge!
Originally published on my Facebook profile:
Please, please don't go shopping on Thanksgiving. If we stopped going out to shop, the stores wouldn't be open and the employees can be at home with their familes (or at least enjoying a day off). We need to wean ourselves from our addiction to cheap Chinese goods and the notion that if we don't get it RIGHT AWAY, we won't get a good deal. Patience is your friend. You can find excellent deals closer to Christmas; sometimes even better than the ones you find on Thanksgiving/Black Friday.
And remember, the retailers are putting out ads for TVs and electronics as SUPER DUPER LOW PRICES, but please, they have MAYBE 10 in stock. But of course, you can get this comparable TV at a discount too (never, ever close to the 'discount' advertized for those 10 TVs that were taken in the first minute). DON'T FALL FOR IT! STAY HOME, PIG OUT, WATCH TV, NAP ON THE COUCH.
After some huge losses some friends of mine have suffered the past few weeks, I wanted to remind people of something:
Thanksgiving is a time to be with family. It's a time to pig out, watch football (or whatever is your traditional movie) and be together, even if all you do is watch the damn DVD.
Think about this: none of us knows how long we have on this earth. This may and probably will be the last Thanksgiving for some of us or will be the last Thanksgiving for a loved one. Do you really want your last Thanksgiving to be at the mall? Do you really want the last memory of your loved one, that you only see once, maybe twice a year, to be of them waving at the door as you back the car out of the driveway and head out to shop?
How about the employee at the store? What if they have loved ones at home that they know they won't see again after this day? Maybe they know this is their last Thanksgiving due to illness and yet, to keep that precious health insurance, they are forced to work rather than be at home with family one ... last ... time. (Let that sink in - some illnesses don't present themselves to the outward appearance. That sales clerk at the checkout stand may only have a few weeks to live and yet here you are, shopping, telling Corporate America they'd better have stores open or else.)
Are you really that selfish, greedy, apathetic? If you are, I feel very sorry for you.
I heard that Maine has blue laws that forbid stores from being open on certain holidays, Thanksgiving included. I wish the remaining 49 would do that. This is one blue law I could get behind. NO ONE should have to sacrifice time with family because they need a job.
If you still feel the need to go shopping on Thanksgiving, do me a favor and unfriend me. I don't want you around and I really don't want to know you.
Please, please don't go shopping on Thanksgiving. If we stopped going out to shop, the stores wouldn't be open and the employees can be at home with their familes (or at least enjoying a day off). We need to wean ourselves from our addiction to cheap Chinese goods and the notion that if we don't get it RIGHT AWAY, we won't get a good deal. Patience is your friend. You can find excellent deals closer to Christmas; sometimes even better than the ones you find on Thanksgiving/Black Friday.
And remember, the retailers are putting out ads for TVs and electronics as SUPER DUPER LOW PRICES, but please, they have MAYBE 10 in stock. But of course, you can get this comparable TV at a discount too (never, ever close to the 'discount' advertized for those 10 TVs that were taken in the first minute). DON'T FALL FOR IT! STAY HOME, PIG OUT, WATCH TV, NAP ON THE COUCH.
After some huge losses some friends of mine have suffered the past few weeks, I wanted to remind people of something:
Thanksgiving is a time to be with family. It's a time to pig out, watch football (or whatever is your traditional movie) and be together, even if all you do is watch the damn DVD.
Think about this: none of us knows how long we have on this earth. This may and probably will be the last Thanksgiving for some of us or will be the last Thanksgiving for a loved one. Do you really want your last Thanksgiving to be at the mall? Do you really want the last memory of your loved one, that you only see once, maybe twice a year, to be of them waving at the door as you back the car out of the driveway and head out to shop?
How about the employee at the store? What if they have loved ones at home that they know they won't see again after this day? Maybe they know this is their last Thanksgiving due to illness and yet, to keep that precious health insurance, they are forced to work rather than be at home with family one ... last ... time. (Let that sink in - some illnesses don't present themselves to the outward appearance. That sales clerk at the checkout stand may only have a few weeks to live and yet here you are, shopping, telling Corporate America they'd better have stores open or else.)
Are you really that selfish, greedy, apathetic? If you are, I feel very sorry for you.
I heard that Maine has blue laws that forbid stores from being open on certain holidays, Thanksgiving included. I wish the remaining 49 would do that. This is one blue law I could get behind. NO ONE should have to sacrifice time with family because they need a job.
If you still feel the need to go shopping on Thanksgiving, do me a favor and unfriend me. I don't want you around and I really don't want to know you.
