A.R. Kennedy's Blog, page 4

Because I know you’re wondering…

Last week I posted a blog asking what I should ask Mike Piazza when I met him at a CitiPass event. I didn’t really think I’d have any chance to talk to him. Boy, was I wrong! I spoke to him for about 5 minutes, with two other ladies. He commented how I have the same name as his wife (I did not say I knew this) and we both commiserated about having lived in Philadelphia. (Sadly, when he asked me where I lived in Philadelphia, I couldn’t remember any of them! Mike–if you’re reading this, I lived in Elkins Park, Sharon Hill, King of Prussia, Main Line, & in Philadelphia itself, by the airport).  Maybe it’s best I didn’t say all of them…I sound like a gypsy.

The event was Amazin’! I told him about the large painting of him that hangs in my home and he signed a photo of it that I brought with me.

What is more amazin’ is the photo of me and Mike!

Come on! That’s a great photo. It may be my favorite photo EVER. And it may be printed in poster size sometime soon.

The return of ‘Notes for my stand up routine’, formerly known as ‘Quotes of the Week’ returns next week. And I’ve got a few doozies! The Pope & sex toys will be mentioned. Don’t worry — it’s not in the same quote.

Happy Reading!

A R

What should I say when I meet Mike Piazza?

This isn’t a hypothetical question! On Thursday, I will be dining with Mike Piazza!

Fine…full disclosure…me and who knows how many other people, who doled out a reasonable sum, will be dining with Mike Piazza at the CitiPass event–ESPN’s Legend Series hosted by Michael Kay & Don LaGreca at the New York Athletic Club. In the event price, you get to have your picture taken with Mr. Piazza. I will have a moment to say something to my favorite Met.

There are so many things I could say to the HOF bound catcher.

Should I tell him a huge painting of him hangs in my home?  Probably not.

Should I tell him my dog’s initial reaction to this painting?  (She barked each time she saw it for several days. I explained to her that this is not an appropriate reaction to anything Piazza related.  He is to be greeted in a much nicer fashion should we ever meet him).  I think me telling him about my conversation with my dog would cause security to be called.

Should I joke about me and his wife having the same name?  Probably not.

Should I tell him I have a had a hotel reservation each year at Cooperstown, since his first year of eligibility for the Baseball Hall of Fame?  That’s probably a sore subject. I think I should avoid it altogether.

Should I just tell him I love him?  Again, I’m afraid that would cause security to be called and my prompt exit, before dinner.

But at least it would get me out of the dinner portion of the evening….

Those that know me know that going to this event is fraught with anxiety! One–I’ll meet my favorite Met.  Two-I’ll be forced to sit with strangers for dinner. Three-I’ll be forced to make small talk with strangers. Oh…the dreaded small talk.  My preferred activity at dinner would be to read a book. I’ve been told that reading a book would be considered rude.

So, I’m very serious when I ask, What should I say to Mike?

Beta Readers–Work or Fun?

I think I’ve always read the Acknowledgements section of an author’s book. Some are funny and some are bland but it reminds you how many people are involved in writing a book. There are the people specifically involved in the book’s publication–the editor, an agent (should you have one. I do not. If an agent is looking for a light hearted, comical mystery writer, contact me:), and a cover artist. Additional thanks is given to the people who helped you do the research– answering the medical questions, the legal questions, and the random questions–when was the last time you cried? what drink would you order at a bar if you couldn’t have alcohol (and still look manly)?

And then there are the BETA READERS, or first readers as some writers call them. They are the people who read the book, long before it’s published. I just finished a book by Paul Tremblay and in his Acknowledgements section, he quoted Louis Maistros: “Being asked to read another writer’s rough draft is the literary equivalent of being asked to help a friend move a couch to a new place.”

I disagree.  There is some pleasure in being the first to read a new book, the first to see what happens next. Now, it’s also a very scary proposition. I liken being a beta reader to watching your friend’s toddler. Because to many a writer, the draft they present to you is like a child to the writer. It’s an extension of themselves. They love it dearly. They want to be told its perfect and beautiful.

Now watching a toddler can be great fun but also quite exhausting. You might be pestered more than once by the parent to check how everything is going.  I think all my beta readers will agree with those three elements of the beta reading job.

The responsibility of the beta reader is to be honest. But must do so with great care.

At the end of the day, if the time babysitting was a complete disaster, you need to mention it right? I don’t recommend saying, “Your child is terrible,” but you probably need to say something. If the child was ill, you’d definitely mention it.  If you couldn’t understand a thing the child said, you’d mention it.

My words of wisdom to new beta readers are–Don’t tell me it sucks, that doesn’t help. You need to tell me, nicely, what doesn’t work, what you didn’t understand, what you’d change.

**Special note to my beta readers (who I assume all read my blog), please contact me if you want to be a beta reader for book 5!**

In other news, The Nathan Miccoli Mystery series is on sale this holiday weekend.  Tell your friends and get ready for book 5!

Enjoy,

A R

Notes for the stand up routine

Even though it’s a short work week for me, the quotes continue.  Over the past week or so, I’ve had a patient tell me they were falling in love with me, another ask me to move in, and another ask to come home with me.  All kidding…of course…I think…

Traveling also brings out the funny. While going through airport security, I was asked if I had a block of cheese in my purse.  As a frequent traveler, I’m used to the routine of airport security- removing the liquids, taking your shoes off, removing the change from your pockets, etc. But this was a new one.  I assured him I did not and then asked if this was a common occurrence to find blocks of cheese (or sausage, he also added) in ladies’ purses. It is.

As I waited to go through the scanner, another security man was very friendly and made small talk (or was he interviewing me to see if I was a threat? Not really sure). He asked where I was going and was surprised to learn I lived in New York.  Moments after this revelation, after the body scan, I underwent a pat down and had my hands swabbed for “things that shouldn’t be on a plane.”  I’m assuming explosives or drugs. I’m not saying the disclosure that I was a New Yorker prompted a more thorough search but…. Although, I’m sure he found the youngish petite blond woman, wearing a Harry Potter T-shirt, a little suspicious.

The best of the week is from Chris at Fox Valley Tech. I attended the Writers’ Police Academy in Appleton, Wisconsin. (The cheese question at the airport is making a little more sense now right?).  I usually don’t credit the person who says the wacky/bizarre/hilarious thing to me but Chris deserves special mention. He made me laugh so hard I cried.

Writers’ Police Academy instructors are all very nice. Some are ridiculously nice, like Chris, who said we can contact him with any questions in the future. This is a dangerous statement to make to a group of writers and I hope he doesn’t regret the decision.  I sent him two questions (which I will not reveal–SPOILERS!) and he promptly replied with a thorough response.  But he led with– For full disclosure – any items we talk about related to your request are done for educational purposes only – should the commission of a crime happen, I would fully cooperate with authorities in all phases – that said, —

Enjoy,

A R

My Gordon Fisherman Moment…

Years ago, my miniature schnauzer participated in a fashion show, at the nursing home I worked at. We were a hit! When she turned the corner, there was an audible gasp from the crowd because she was so adorable in her little yellow raincoat.  Sadly, we didn’t win. Or place. I was told by more than one person that H was “robbed”.  A friend who I worked with at the facility was not surprised.  She told me H didn’t win because “It’s a popularity contest.” Translation–It had nothing to do with H’s cuteness. The judges didn’t like me.  Thank you. That made me feel much better.

So, on to my “Gordon Fisherman moment”. I submitted a story in The Golden Donut story.  The story had to be exactly 200 words, inspired by a selected photo on the writerspoliceacademy.com website. (To see the photo, go to– http://www.writerspoliceacademy.com/short-story-contest/ )

I did not win. But here is my story.

 Case Closed 

“I know who killed Adwin!” she texted.

“Meet me here,” he responded, with his location.

She smiled.  It was where they had met.

At Adwin’s funeral.

Adwin’s ending was their beginning.

She walked through the garden to the clearing.  He stood waiting at the pair of gravestones.  He turned from Adwin’s grave, wiping a tear from his eye. His eager grin caused her to quicken her pace.  He walked to the matching gravestone and bent down to touch it.

Just two months ago, as they lowered Adwin’s body into the grave, she had wondered who was buried next to the middle aged bachelor.

Or maybe would be?

“Who is buried here?” she asked as he slid it open.

When fully opened, she peered in at the empty grave.

She felt his hand on her back.  In just weeks, she had grown accustomed to feeling that hand on her skin.

In the small of her back, his touch was gentle.

At first.

Then firmer.

She clutched at him to make him stop.

Now, she knew who would be buried next to Adwin.

She realized she was wrong.

About a lot of things.

Now, she knew who had killed Adwin.

Hope you enjoyed my short story.

Enjoy, 

A R 

Just so I don’t go all Kanye on this. Congratulation to the winner, Vinnie Hansen. vinniehansen.com

It’s that time of year again…

It’s that weekend again…when I have difficult choices to make…How does one choose between gunfighting or spending time in an ambulance? Or do I go to a crime lab? Or get fingerprinted?

It’s time for the 2015 Writers’ Police Academy. It’s my fourth year.  The three previous years the conference was held in Greensboro, NC. This year it’s in Appleton, Wisconsin.  ‘Where?’ you ask.  I really have no idea.

I’ve learned countless things at previous Writers’ Police Academies I never thought I’d use.  I know the proper technique for building searches, night patrol stops, and handcuffing a suspect.

Nathan’s undercover job was inspired by one of last years speakers.  I know more about serial killers, blood spatter, and guns than you’d expect thanks to the WPA.

Learn more at writerspoliceacademy.com.

The motto– Sweat now, so your manuscript won’t bleed red ink later.

Enjoy!

A R

Notes for the Stand-up Routine

So when each week starts, I think I won’t be able to do a blog.  But each week, I’m wrong.  People are always saying zany things. This week has been a little slow in that department.  Actually, people have been very kind this week. I had a former patient call me today to tell me how special I am and how much she misses me.  Another one told me today how lucky he is I’m his therapist. To be honest, It’s freaking me out. :) Am I dying or something?

Anyway, on to the laughs…

“You should get it. You like gizmos.” (The only Gizmo I remember ever liking is a gremlin…and he turned evil…on second thought maybe I shouldn’t like him.)

“Who could forget you?”

“Seriously, you did better than I expected. I thought I’d have to run beside you like you do for a child.” This is paraphrasing a quote by my friend Jodi, who I went bike riding with this weekend. I haven’t ridden a bike in over a decade and she was properly warned that I was nervous. We both survived without any falls! No bystanders were hurt either. :)

Have a great week!

A R

My notes for the stand-up routine

My witty (or as some would say, sassy) comments of the week–

“There’s no nice way to tell someone ‘Don’t touch me’, is there?” (I was told by two people there is not.)

“You’re talking to someone who was almost killed windsurfing. Jet skiing does not sound like it will end well. Of course you’re in the will so maybe it’ll end well for you.”

“I’m in too good of a mood. This will end badly.” (I was wrong! It ended very well!)

“I’m not paying $5 for profanity.”

“I know how to ride a bike. It’s the stopping I have a problem with.”

Enjoy

A R

Notes for my standup routine

“I love your eyes.”  (Yes, on the surface that doesn’t sound weird or funny but it was the ONLY thing this person said to me. It wasn’t said in a ‘Aren’t you pretty’ kind of way but in a ‘I want to take them’ kind of way.)

“That was a needlessly sassy remark.” (It wasn’t. It had just the right amount of sass.)

“You’re worth that kind of money.”

“This sassiness will be noted and made part of your permanent record.”

The pup, H, has a submission this week.  While in the elevator with two neighbors, the lady asked her name. When I told her, she replied “Heidi Ho. The name Heidi always makes me think of Joan Rivers.” She further explained that it was a bit Rivers did about a high school friend who was a slut.  The male neighbor, who is a big fan of my pup, said “Hey, she can’t defend herself.” and reached down to pet Heidi, promptly telling her she was a good girl.

What’s funnier? The fact that the male neighbor thought she was calling my dog a slut? Or the fact that he defended her?

Enjoy!

A R

P.S. – While my mother does not want to be found quoted in this blog, a friend does. He asked, after I laughed so hard I know my neighbors had to hear me, ‘Will it make your quote of the week list?’ Yes it did!

My best for the standup routine…

After a clamoring on Facebook, (Fine…one person commented she was surprised that the funny things I posted were not uttered by me), here’s a little of my funny…

My best joke of the month was wasted on one with no sense of humor. Such a pity.  Of course, a bystander did find it hilarious. A neighbor came by and told my mother and I that their daughter had a baby and the baby’s name.  He then left.  My father came out of the house and having just spoken to the neighbor’s wife on the phone told us the daughter had the baby. I stopped him there and shouted. “No, don’t say the name…” I closed my eyes, put my hand to my head, doing my best soothsayer rendition. “I can see the child’s name…I’m seeing a Christopher.”  Before I continued with the child’s middle name, I opened my eyes to see my father’s reaction. You’d expect a look of shock, of amazement, of something. Nope, he nodded “Yep, Christopher Leonard.” He continued, with other infant statistics, as if it wasn’t amazing I had just guessed the name of child of a woman I didn’t even know was pregnant.  He did notice my mother laughing so hard she couldn’t speak and finally asked, “What’s so funny?”

Have a great Friday!

A R