E.A. Briginshaw's Blog, page 3
July 5, 2019
Choices - Chapter 5
I found myself back at the Calgary Stampede dancing with Maddie, just like we had that night.
“Are you having fun?” I whispered into her ear.
“Absolutely,” she whispered back. She nestled her head into my chest and I could swear my heart started to purr.
We continued to waltz when we saw a man dancing with a girl, obviously his daughter.
“Do you ever wish we’d had a third child?” I asked Maddie.
“Sometimes,” she said. “Sometimes I wish for a daughter, but then I think about how much work it would be. At my age, I’m not sure I could handle it anymore.”
I thought back to when Michael was three and Danny was less than a year old. Life was good – when they were healthy. But when they were sick, I swear I would have sold them to the gypsies for just one hour of uninterrupted sleep.
“If we could somehow guarantee that the next one would be a girl, I think I’d go for it,” Maddie said, “but I know life doesn’t offer any guarantees.”
She snuggled into my chest again and we continued to dance.
When the song ended, Maddie looked up at me. “I think someone is signaling that they want to dance with you.” She pointed to a young girl that was standing along the wall.
Suddenly I was transported back to a high school gymnasium. Maddie was no longer standing beside me, but standing beside the girl who wanted to dance with me. I held out my hand and the young girl smiled and started walking toward me.
The girl was my daughter, Sarah, and this was the dance that I’d had with her at her high school graduation.
Garth Brooks started into his song. He was no longer the baby-faced Garth that had been there at the start of the night, nor the silver-haired man he is today. He had dark hair and a dark mustache and goatee. The song was “The Dance”.
I remembered the night that Maddie and I had volunteered to be chaperones at our daughter’s high school prom. When Sarah was born and we’d discovered that she had Down’s Syndrome, we weren’t sure she’d ever get through public school, let alone high school.
She wanted to go to the dance, but no one had asked her, so Maddie and I decided to volunteer as chaperones and bring her along. Sarah had always been a warm, friendly person and we knew she had some good friends, but we had always been on alert to protect her from bullies and teasing.
Much to our surprise, she was popular. Several boys had already asked her to dance. Although she was designated as special needs, she also possessed special attributes. Everyone seemed to be drawn to her because of her warm heart and the ability to see the good side of everyone she met.
Maddie had told me later that Sarah had told her she wanted to save the first slow dance to be with me, her father. I felt honored.
Yes, I could have missed some of the pain of raising a special needs child. But I now realized, if I’d missed the pain, I’d also have to give up the dance, and that was something I could never do.
When the song ended and I opened my eyes, I realized I was now back in the Vegas nightclub. I was no longer dancing with my daughter, but with the cowgirl who had said they leave no man behind.
I felt a little embarrassed and wondered if I’d been squeezing her as tight as I had when I’d danced with my daughter.
I thanked her for the dance and quickly headed off toward the bathroom trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in my eyes.
“Are you having fun?” I whispered into her ear.
“Absolutely,” she whispered back. She nestled her head into my chest and I could swear my heart started to purr.
We continued to waltz when we saw a man dancing with a girl, obviously his daughter.
“Do you ever wish we’d had a third child?” I asked Maddie.
“Sometimes,” she said. “Sometimes I wish for a daughter, but then I think about how much work it would be. At my age, I’m not sure I could handle it anymore.”
I thought back to when Michael was three and Danny was less than a year old. Life was good – when they were healthy. But when they were sick, I swear I would have sold them to the gypsies for just one hour of uninterrupted sleep.
“If we could somehow guarantee that the next one would be a girl, I think I’d go for it,” Maddie said, “but I know life doesn’t offer any guarantees.”
She snuggled into my chest again and we continued to dance.
When the song ended, Maddie looked up at me. “I think someone is signaling that they want to dance with you.” She pointed to a young girl that was standing along the wall.
Suddenly I was transported back to a high school gymnasium. Maddie was no longer standing beside me, but standing beside the girl who wanted to dance with me. I held out my hand and the young girl smiled and started walking toward me.
The girl was my daughter, Sarah, and this was the dance that I’d had with her at her high school graduation.
Garth Brooks started into his song. He was no longer the baby-faced Garth that had been there at the start of the night, nor the silver-haired man he is today. He had dark hair and a dark mustache and goatee. The song was “The Dance”.
I remembered the night that Maddie and I had volunteered to be chaperones at our daughter’s high school prom. When Sarah was born and we’d discovered that she had Down’s Syndrome, we weren’t sure she’d ever get through public school, let alone high school.
She wanted to go to the dance, but no one had asked her, so Maddie and I decided to volunteer as chaperones and bring her along. Sarah had always been a warm, friendly person and we knew she had some good friends, but we had always been on alert to protect her from bullies and teasing.
Much to our surprise, she was popular. Several boys had already asked her to dance. Although she was designated as special needs, she also possessed special attributes. Everyone seemed to be drawn to her because of her warm heart and the ability to see the good side of everyone she met.
Maddie had told me later that Sarah had told her she wanted to save the first slow dance to be with me, her father. I felt honored.
Yes, I could have missed some of the pain of raising a special needs child. But I now realized, if I’d missed the pain, I’d also have to give up the dance, and that was something I could never do.
When the song ended and I opened my eyes, I realized I was now back in the Vegas nightclub. I was no longer dancing with my daughter, but with the cowgirl who had said they leave no man behind.
I felt a little embarrassed and wondered if I’d been squeezing her as tight as I had when I’d danced with my daughter.
I thanked her for the dance and quickly headed off toward the bathroom trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in my eyes.
June 18, 2019
Choices - Chapter 4
This is the fourth chapter of my new novella titled "Choices". The first three chapters are posted in previous posts on my blog.
As soon as I stepped through the door, I realized I was now in the Country & Western club. A tall buxom blonde wearing a cowboy hat and jeans that looked like they had been sprayed on smiled as she came toward me.
She placed a cowboy hat on my head and grabbed me by the hand. “Come on Grandpa, let’s see what you got.”
She pulled me out onto the huge dance floor which must have had over a hundred people on it, all doing some kind of a fancy-step line dance.
“I don’t know how to line dance,” I yelled.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Just watch my ass and do what I do.”
Watching her ass would not be a problem, because hers was damn near perfect. However, following her steps was another issue.
I looked left and right and saw several other people just as confused as I was. But as the band played some kind of “Achy Breaky Heart” tune, we all seemed to eventually get the hang of it.
The crowd was a mixture of men and women, young and old. There were about twenty of the cowgirl dance leaders scattered throughout the crowd, all dressed exactly the same as the girl who had pulled me out onto the dance floor. So, every time the dance steps caused you to spin and look in a different direction, there was another perfectly formed blonde wearing tight jeans to follow. It was like they had been cloned.
As I danced, I started to look more closely at some of the other people up dancing. I recognized Linda, one of my old university classmates, dancing two rows in front of me. She had aged well because she looked like she was in her mid-thirties.
When we did our next turn, I recognized Joel, another old classmate. He looked like he was about thirty-five years old as well.
I slid the sunglasses down on my nose and peered over the top. Suddenly, Joel’s dark brown beard looked thinner and greyer and he aged thirty years before my eyes. These were definitely not ordinary glasses.
One of the cowgirls caught my attention and gestured for me to push my glasses up to their normal position. She smiled when I followed her instructions.
We line-danced to a couple more tunes before the music changed to a slower ballad. The dance floor thinned out when the music changed and I took the opportunity to take a break as well. I could see Linda and Joel heading off the dance floor and headed in their direction. When they got to their seats, I could see they were sitting with Mariette, another classmate, and her husband, Ron. Mariette’s eyes lit up when she saw me.
“Jay, Jay, come join us,” she said.
Although Mariette and I hadn’t seen each other in years, we’d kept in touch through Christmas cards, emails and social media. She already knew that Maddie had passed away a few months earlier.
I slid my way into the booth alongside Mariette while Joel and Linda headed to the bar to get another round of drinks.
“I’m so glad you came,” Mariette said. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I wasn’t sure I’d be here either,” I said.
She reached out and touched my hand. “How are you doing?”
“Okay, I guess.” I looked her in the eye and I’m sure she could tell I was lying. “I’m having sort of a strange night,” I confessed.
She didn’t say anything, but just gave my hand a squeeze.
We watched the people on the dance floor for a few minutes.
“How are your boys doing?” I asked.
I was just making polite conversation as I already knew the answer. Her two sons were about the same age as mine and she had shared the highlights of their lives via Facebook updates and Christmas newsletters over the years. But I wanted to give her the opportunity to brag about them. What parent wouldn’t?
“How about yours?” she asked after she’d shared the latest stories about her sons.
Now it was my turn to brag. I could feel the smile return to my face as I told her about my sons’ latest achievements.
“How is Sarah doing?” she asked.
Our conversation was interrupted when Joel and Linda returned from the bar with several beers in their hands. They slid into the booth beside me.
Joel had just heard the last bit of our conversation. “Is Sarah your wife?” he asked as he took a swig of his beer.
I saw Linda send him a signal with her eyes that he should drop the subject, but he failed to pick up the cue.
“No, my wife passed away a few months ago,” I said. “Sarah is our daughter. Mariette and I were just sharing stories about our kids.”
“Cool,” Joel said. He took another swig of beer. “So what has Sarah been up to?”
“Not much,” I said. “She’s got Down’s Syndrome.”
Joel looked confused. “Aren’t you a little old to be having a kid with Down’s Syndrome?”
“She’s not a kid,” I explained. “Sarah just turned twenty-six. When she was younger, there were all kinds of programs available to help parents who had a child with Down’s Syndrome, but most of them ended when she turned eighteen. People seem to forget that special needs children grow up and their needs don’t suddenly stop when they become adults.”
“Doesn’t the government provide help?” Joel asked.
“Some, but not as much as they should,” I said. “It’s mostly up to the parents.”
Joel took another big swig of beer. “I’ve heard they can test for that now before the baby is born, but I guess that wasn’t available back in the day.”
Linda sent an apology to me with her eyes and then grabbed Joel’s hand. “Come on. How about more dancing and less talking.” She pulled him out onto the dance floor.
Joel was wrong. They had the test back then, but Maddie and I had made the choice not to have it. For one, the test itself increased the chance of having a miscarriage. But the bigger reason was that we didn’t think we could go through with aborting the pregnancy if the test came back positive. We decided we’d rather not know.
The leader of the band announced they were about to start a square dance. Most people headed out onto the dance floor, but I decided to sit this one out.
As I sat alone in the booth, I found myself thinking about whether we’d made the right choice. Would our lives have been easier if we’d not had Sarah? Maddie wouldn’t have had to worry about saving money to take care of Sarah after we’re gone and we would have been able to retire earlier and enjoy more of our golden years.
I felt even more guilt because I realized I’d probably pressured Maddie into not taking the test. Had it really been our decision or had it been my decision that Maddie had simply gone along with?
My thoughts were interrupted by one of the blonde cowgirls who was patrolling the club looking for strays like me. “Come on, Grandpa. Our philosophy is that we leave no man behind. Don’t forget your glasses.”
She reached out her hand and pulled me out onto the dance floor. Since I was a loner, she became my partner as we formed a new group of square-dancers.
The leader of the band looked a lot like Garth Brooks, not the current version of Garth with the greying hair and beard, but back when he had dark hair and baby-faced cheeks. He waved to his fiddle-player and we were off and running.
I’m not much of a square-dancer so I was just trying to do what everyone else was doing without making too many mistakes. When the caller said “Allemande-Left”, I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do, but I knew enough to at least turn to my left to start.
The caller was using this dance as a mixer, a good way to dance and meet people you’d never encountered before. After several “Ladies Chains” and “do-si-do’s”, I had lost track of my original cowgirl partner. My mind was spinning faster and faster with each new move.
When Garth called for another “Allemande-Left”, I suddenly found myself looking into the eyes of Maddie. She looked like she did when she was thirty-eight and we were suddenly transported back to the night we had danced at the Calgary Stampede.
That was a magical night. We’d danced the night away and had more than a few drinks. We were walking out of the grounds when Maddie suddenly stopped and pointed to one of the barns where they kept the horses.
“Have you ever done it in a barn?” she asked.
I looked all around to see if anyone was watching us. “You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?”
Her bedroom eyes gave me the answer.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the barn and then led the way up the ladder to the loft. That was a night I will never forget.
That was also the night that Sarah was conceived.
As soon as I stepped through the door, I realized I was now in the Country & Western club. A tall buxom blonde wearing a cowboy hat and jeans that looked like they had been sprayed on smiled as she came toward me.
She placed a cowboy hat on my head and grabbed me by the hand. “Come on Grandpa, let’s see what you got.”
She pulled me out onto the huge dance floor which must have had over a hundred people on it, all doing some kind of a fancy-step line dance.
“I don’t know how to line dance,” I yelled.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Just watch my ass and do what I do.”
Watching her ass would not be a problem, because hers was damn near perfect. However, following her steps was another issue.
I looked left and right and saw several other people just as confused as I was. But as the band played some kind of “Achy Breaky Heart” tune, we all seemed to eventually get the hang of it.
The crowd was a mixture of men and women, young and old. There were about twenty of the cowgirl dance leaders scattered throughout the crowd, all dressed exactly the same as the girl who had pulled me out onto the dance floor. So, every time the dance steps caused you to spin and look in a different direction, there was another perfectly formed blonde wearing tight jeans to follow. It was like they had been cloned.
As I danced, I started to look more closely at some of the other people up dancing. I recognized Linda, one of my old university classmates, dancing two rows in front of me. She had aged well because she looked like she was in her mid-thirties.
When we did our next turn, I recognized Joel, another old classmate. He looked like he was about thirty-five years old as well.
I slid the sunglasses down on my nose and peered over the top. Suddenly, Joel’s dark brown beard looked thinner and greyer and he aged thirty years before my eyes. These were definitely not ordinary glasses.
One of the cowgirls caught my attention and gestured for me to push my glasses up to their normal position. She smiled when I followed her instructions.
We line-danced to a couple more tunes before the music changed to a slower ballad. The dance floor thinned out when the music changed and I took the opportunity to take a break as well. I could see Linda and Joel heading off the dance floor and headed in their direction. When they got to their seats, I could see they were sitting with Mariette, another classmate, and her husband, Ron. Mariette’s eyes lit up when she saw me.
“Jay, Jay, come join us,” she said.
Although Mariette and I hadn’t seen each other in years, we’d kept in touch through Christmas cards, emails and social media. She already knew that Maddie had passed away a few months earlier.
I slid my way into the booth alongside Mariette while Joel and Linda headed to the bar to get another round of drinks.
“I’m so glad you came,” Mariette said. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I wasn’t sure I’d be here either,” I said.
She reached out and touched my hand. “How are you doing?”
“Okay, I guess.” I looked her in the eye and I’m sure she could tell I was lying. “I’m having sort of a strange night,” I confessed.
She didn’t say anything, but just gave my hand a squeeze.
We watched the people on the dance floor for a few minutes.
“How are your boys doing?” I asked.
I was just making polite conversation as I already knew the answer. Her two sons were about the same age as mine and she had shared the highlights of their lives via Facebook updates and Christmas newsletters over the years. But I wanted to give her the opportunity to brag about them. What parent wouldn’t?
“How about yours?” she asked after she’d shared the latest stories about her sons.
Now it was my turn to brag. I could feel the smile return to my face as I told her about my sons’ latest achievements.
“How is Sarah doing?” she asked.
Our conversation was interrupted when Joel and Linda returned from the bar with several beers in their hands. They slid into the booth beside me.
Joel had just heard the last bit of our conversation. “Is Sarah your wife?” he asked as he took a swig of his beer.
I saw Linda send him a signal with her eyes that he should drop the subject, but he failed to pick up the cue.
“No, my wife passed away a few months ago,” I said. “Sarah is our daughter. Mariette and I were just sharing stories about our kids.”
“Cool,” Joel said. He took another swig of beer. “So what has Sarah been up to?”
“Not much,” I said. “She’s got Down’s Syndrome.”
Joel looked confused. “Aren’t you a little old to be having a kid with Down’s Syndrome?”
“She’s not a kid,” I explained. “Sarah just turned twenty-six. When she was younger, there were all kinds of programs available to help parents who had a child with Down’s Syndrome, but most of them ended when she turned eighteen. People seem to forget that special needs children grow up and their needs don’t suddenly stop when they become adults.”
“Doesn’t the government provide help?” Joel asked.
“Some, but not as much as they should,” I said. “It’s mostly up to the parents.”
Joel took another big swig of beer. “I’ve heard they can test for that now before the baby is born, but I guess that wasn’t available back in the day.”
Linda sent an apology to me with her eyes and then grabbed Joel’s hand. “Come on. How about more dancing and less talking.” She pulled him out onto the dance floor.
Joel was wrong. They had the test back then, but Maddie and I had made the choice not to have it. For one, the test itself increased the chance of having a miscarriage. But the bigger reason was that we didn’t think we could go through with aborting the pregnancy if the test came back positive. We decided we’d rather not know.
The leader of the band announced they were about to start a square dance. Most people headed out onto the dance floor, but I decided to sit this one out.
As I sat alone in the booth, I found myself thinking about whether we’d made the right choice. Would our lives have been easier if we’d not had Sarah? Maddie wouldn’t have had to worry about saving money to take care of Sarah after we’re gone and we would have been able to retire earlier and enjoy more of our golden years.
I felt even more guilt because I realized I’d probably pressured Maddie into not taking the test. Had it really been our decision or had it been my decision that Maddie had simply gone along with?
My thoughts were interrupted by one of the blonde cowgirls who was patrolling the club looking for strays like me. “Come on, Grandpa. Our philosophy is that we leave no man behind. Don’t forget your glasses.”
She reached out her hand and pulled me out onto the dance floor. Since I was a loner, she became my partner as we formed a new group of square-dancers.
The leader of the band looked a lot like Garth Brooks, not the current version of Garth with the greying hair and beard, but back when he had dark hair and baby-faced cheeks. He waved to his fiddle-player and we were off and running.
I’m not much of a square-dancer so I was just trying to do what everyone else was doing without making too many mistakes. When the caller said “Allemande-Left”, I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do, but I knew enough to at least turn to my left to start.
The caller was using this dance as a mixer, a good way to dance and meet people you’d never encountered before. After several “Ladies Chains” and “do-si-do’s”, I had lost track of my original cowgirl partner. My mind was spinning faster and faster with each new move.
When Garth called for another “Allemande-Left”, I suddenly found myself looking into the eyes of Maddie. She looked like she did when she was thirty-eight and we were suddenly transported back to the night we had danced at the Calgary Stampede.
That was a magical night. We’d danced the night away and had more than a few drinks. We were walking out of the grounds when Maddie suddenly stopped and pointed to one of the barns where they kept the horses.
“Have you ever done it in a barn?” she asked.
I looked all around to see if anyone was watching us. “You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?”
Her bedroom eyes gave me the answer.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the barn and then led the way up the ladder to the loft. That was a night I will never forget.
That was also the night that Sarah was conceived.
June 16, 2019
Happy Father's Day - Competing Against the Old Man
Since it's Father's Day, I thought I'd share something I wrote a few years ago for the Golf Canada website.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GopJ6...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GopJ6...
June 4, 2019
Choices: Chapter 3
“That laser light show was amazing,” Neil said.
I found myself pulled back into reality at the Vegas nightclub. Had they seen what I’d seen? How long had I been off in my own little fantasy world?
I could feel my heart pounding and sweat was starting to accumulate on my forehead. I excused myself and headed off to the washroom to try to regain my composure.
When I got there, I took off the 3D glasses and splashed cold water on my face.
That was the weirdest experience I’d ever had in my whole life. Sure, I’d had strange visions and dreams before, but not while I was awake. I looked in the mirror and talked to myself trying to make sense of it all. Fortunately, there was no one else in the bathroom to witness my meltdown.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I scanned the room looking for the exit. There was no way I could head back to join Neil and Barb in my confused condition. Was I starting to go senile?
I headed toward the entrance but came to an abrupt halt when I saw Judy standing there. She was all dressed up and greeting people as they entered the club – her club. There was no way I could see her again in my current condition. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle it even if I was at my best.
I did a quick U-turn and headed toward the other side of the club. Surely, there was another way out of here. I saw a red light hanging over the top of a door at the back of the club and headed toward it. There was a huge man standing in front of it with his arms folded across his chest that seemed to accentuate the size of his biceps. He looked surprisingly similar to the bouncer that I’d encountered at the main entrance.
“Is this the exit?” I asked.
“Nope. This is the entrance to the next club, but once you leave here, you can’t come back.”
“I have no intention of coming back,” I said.
The man continued to block the doorway. “Where’s your glasses? I can’t let you past without your glasses.”
I could tell he was not a man you could negotiate with. I frantically searched my pockets. Then I remembered that I’d left them in the bathroom and raced back to get them. I was pleased to see they were still there sitting on the counter.
I put them on and looked at myself in the mirror. I suddenly looked ten years younger. I pulled the glasses down on my nose and peered over top of them. I looked like the wrinkly seventy-three year old man that I was. But when I slid the glasses back up and peered through them again, I looked like I did when I was sixty. These were no ordinary glasses.
I headed out of the bathroom and approached the bouncer again. He unfolded his arms and started to step aside, but then put his hand on my chest to stop me.
“Are you sure you’re up for this, old man?”
“Up for what?” I asked.
“Some people think they want to go down a different path, but then learn they should have stayed on the road they were on after all. You strike me as a guy who has some doubts about where he’s going.”
He was right. I was spinning and out of control.
“Why don’t you take a few minutes to think it through,” he said. He pointed to a bench a few feet away.
I sat down and tried to get my heart to stop racing. A group of women were standing in line outside of the ladies’ washroom. The line continued to grow until they were only a few feet from where I was sitting. They were all buzzing about the laser light show. Had they seen what I’d seen? Based on the snippets of their conversations that I could overhear, they were describing something completely different.
I sat back on the bench, took a few more deep breaths, and started to feel a little better. When I stood up, I looked back toward the entrance to see if Judy was still blocking my escape route. She was. And to make matters worse, she seemed to be looking in my direction. I couldn’t tell if she saw me or not, but she suddenly started walking toward me.
I turned in the other direction and headed back toward the bouncer. “I’m ready to move on to the next club,” I said.
He studied my face. “You sure?”
I glared at him. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we.”
I found myself pulled back into reality at the Vegas nightclub. Had they seen what I’d seen? How long had I been off in my own little fantasy world?
I could feel my heart pounding and sweat was starting to accumulate on my forehead. I excused myself and headed off to the washroom to try to regain my composure.
When I got there, I took off the 3D glasses and splashed cold water on my face.
That was the weirdest experience I’d ever had in my whole life. Sure, I’d had strange visions and dreams before, but not while I was awake. I looked in the mirror and talked to myself trying to make sense of it all. Fortunately, there was no one else in the bathroom to witness my meltdown.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I scanned the room looking for the exit. There was no way I could head back to join Neil and Barb in my confused condition. Was I starting to go senile?
I headed toward the entrance but came to an abrupt halt when I saw Judy standing there. She was all dressed up and greeting people as they entered the club – her club. There was no way I could see her again in my current condition. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle it even if I was at my best.
I did a quick U-turn and headed toward the other side of the club. Surely, there was another way out of here. I saw a red light hanging over the top of a door at the back of the club and headed toward it. There was a huge man standing in front of it with his arms folded across his chest that seemed to accentuate the size of his biceps. He looked surprisingly similar to the bouncer that I’d encountered at the main entrance.
“Is this the exit?” I asked.
“Nope. This is the entrance to the next club, but once you leave here, you can’t come back.”
“I have no intention of coming back,” I said.
The man continued to block the doorway. “Where’s your glasses? I can’t let you past without your glasses.”
I could tell he was not a man you could negotiate with. I frantically searched my pockets. Then I remembered that I’d left them in the bathroom and raced back to get them. I was pleased to see they were still there sitting on the counter.
I put them on and looked at myself in the mirror. I suddenly looked ten years younger. I pulled the glasses down on my nose and peered over top of them. I looked like the wrinkly seventy-three year old man that I was. But when I slid the glasses back up and peered through them again, I looked like I did when I was sixty. These were no ordinary glasses.
I headed out of the bathroom and approached the bouncer again. He unfolded his arms and started to step aside, but then put his hand on my chest to stop me.
“Are you sure you’re up for this, old man?”
“Up for what?” I asked.
“Some people think they want to go down a different path, but then learn they should have stayed on the road they were on after all. You strike me as a guy who has some doubts about where he’s going.”
He was right. I was spinning and out of control.
“Why don’t you take a few minutes to think it through,” he said. He pointed to a bench a few feet away.
I sat down and tried to get my heart to stop racing. A group of women were standing in line outside of the ladies’ washroom. The line continued to grow until they were only a few feet from where I was sitting. They were all buzzing about the laser light show. Had they seen what I’d seen? Based on the snippets of their conversations that I could overhear, they were describing something completely different.
I sat back on the bench, took a few more deep breaths, and started to feel a little better. When I stood up, I looked back toward the entrance to see if Judy was still blocking my escape route. She was. And to make matters worse, she seemed to be looking in my direction. I couldn’t tell if she saw me or not, but she suddenly started walking toward me.
I turned in the other direction and headed back toward the bouncer. “I’m ready to move on to the next club,” I said.
He studied my face. “You sure?”
I glared at him. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we.”
May 16, 2019
Choices: Chapter 2
I suddenly found myself up there dancing with my wife, but I was no longer in the nightclub; we seemed to be on some kind of a cruise ship.
“Thanks for talking me into taking early retirement,” she whispered in my ear. “I’m having such a good time.”
I was confused. The red sequined party dress was one she had purchased specifically for the cruise, but I knew she’d never actually worn it. We’d had to cancel the trip when she got sick.
Maddie could see the confusion on my face. I pretended I hadn’t heard her because of the loud music.
My head was spinning. Maddie looked younger and so much alive, not showing any of the effects of the chemotherapy treatments. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. I knew it wasn’t real, but I desperately wanted it to be real.
“I want to go exploring when we get into port in the morning,” Maddie said.
I nodded my agreement.
We spent the rest of the night dancing. Maddie loved to dance. It was something I’d wished we’d done more of.
Our ship docked in the morning and we spent the day touring Las Palmas, one of the Canary Islands. A few days later, we docked in Barcelona. Maddie had always wanted to visit Spain. We were doing the things she’d said she always wanted to do.
Later that night, she complained that she’d developed a chest cold, probably due to the sea air. I knew that wasn’t the cause, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her.
Over the next several months, we did a lot of travelling. I was rushing to fit all of her dream vacations into a six-month period. I knew we were running out of time and I wanted to give her everything she deserved.
“How are we going to pay for all of this?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about the money,” I said. “We can’t take it with us after we die.”
She gave me a puzzled look, but it quickly disappeared when we started planning our next adventure.
Our fantasy dream life continued for a few more months, until she found out the chest congestion she’d been experiencing wasn’t just from allergies or the sea air. My eyes betrayed me.
“You knew, didn’t you?” she said.
I knew the reality. I knew it didn’t matter. The doctors had told us so. In real life, we’d found the cancer early, but it hadn’t made any difference. Numerous rounds of radiation and chemotherapy couldn’t save her.
“That’s why we’ve been taking all of these vacations and spending all of this money, isn’t it?”
“The money doesn’t matter,” I explained.
“Of course it does! We have to make sure the kids are taken care of. That’s our job, our most important job, and now you’ve put that in jeopardy.”
I gave her a hug and I could feel her trembling. “The kids will be fine,” I whispered. “They can take care of themselves.”
She pushed me away. “The boys can, but what about Sarah? She’s going to need help and we won’t be around to help her.”
Tears filled her eyes and she raced off to her bedroom.
I just stood there, not knowing what to do. All I had wanted to do was have the last few months of her life filled with joy and happiness, but instead I’d made things worse. I now realized I’d made the wrong choice.
“Thanks for talking me into taking early retirement,” she whispered in my ear. “I’m having such a good time.”
I was confused. The red sequined party dress was one she had purchased specifically for the cruise, but I knew she’d never actually worn it. We’d had to cancel the trip when she got sick.
Maddie could see the confusion on my face. I pretended I hadn’t heard her because of the loud music.
My head was spinning. Maddie looked younger and so much alive, not showing any of the effects of the chemotherapy treatments. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. I knew it wasn’t real, but I desperately wanted it to be real.
“I want to go exploring when we get into port in the morning,” Maddie said.
I nodded my agreement.
We spent the rest of the night dancing. Maddie loved to dance. It was something I’d wished we’d done more of.
Our ship docked in the morning and we spent the day touring Las Palmas, one of the Canary Islands. A few days later, we docked in Barcelona. Maddie had always wanted to visit Spain. We were doing the things she’d said she always wanted to do.
Later that night, she complained that she’d developed a chest cold, probably due to the sea air. I knew that wasn’t the cause, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her.
Over the next several months, we did a lot of travelling. I was rushing to fit all of her dream vacations into a six-month period. I knew we were running out of time and I wanted to give her everything she deserved.
“How are we going to pay for all of this?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about the money,” I said. “We can’t take it with us after we die.”
She gave me a puzzled look, but it quickly disappeared when we started planning our next adventure.
Our fantasy dream life continued for a few more months, until she found out the chest congestion she’d been experiencing wasn’t just from allergies or the sea air. My eyes betrayed me.
“You knew, didn’t you?” she said.
I knew the reality. I knew it didn’t matter. The doctors had told us so. In real life, we’d found the cancer early, but it hadn’t made any difference. Numerous rounds of radiation and chemotherapy couldn’t save her.
“That’s why we’ve been taking all of these vacations and spending all of this money, isn’t it?”
“The money doesn’t matter,” I explained.
“Of course it does! We have to make sure the kids are taken care of. That’s our job, our most important job, and now you’ve put that in jeopardy.”
I gave her a hug and I could feel her trembling. “The kids will be fine,” I whispered. “They can take care of themselves.”
She pushed me away. “The boys can, but what about Sarah? She’s going to need help and we won’t be around to help her.”
Tears filled her eyes and she raced off to her bedroom.
I just stood there, not knowing what to do. All I had wanted to do was have the last few months of her life filled with joy and happiness, but instead I’d made things worse. I now realized I’d made the wrong choice.
May 4, 2019
Choices: Chapter 1
The following is chapter one of my new novella titled "Choices". It's the story of an older man who heads off to a Vegas nightclub called "Choices" to attend the 50th anniversary reunion of his university graduating class. He soon discovers that this is not a normal nightclub.
I'll post additional chapters over the coming weeks/months. I hope you enjoy it.
The nightclub was a place called “Choices”, a monstrous building with five separate entrances, each one catering to a particular type of music. I was standing outside of the entrance that featured “Pop”. I’m not really into that type of music, but it was the club that had the shortest lineup to get in.
I was getting too old to be doing this shit. Here I was, at seventy-three years of age, standing outside of a Vegas nightclub along with hundreds of other people waiting to get in.
Why, you may ask?
Good question. I was starting to second-guess why I was here myself. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately – second guessing everything. It had started when Maddie, my wife of almost fifty years, had passed away a few months ago. Seven months, three days and fourteen hours to be exact, but who’s counting.
Maddie had told me I should attend the 50th anniversary celebration of my university graduating class, but I hadn’t replied to the invitation. Yet, here I was, standing in line. Maybe I was hoping that it would make her proud of me.
That’s all I’d ever wanted – my whole life – for people to be proud of me. At first, it was my parents, then my various bosses over the years, and then, most importantly, Maddie. I wish I had done better.
“Jay, Jay Tremblay, is that you?” someone said as they came toward me.
No one had called me Jay in years. My real name is Jasper but everyone at university had called me Jay and I’d never bothered to correct them. Jay sounded cooler than Jasper, and back in those days, I desperately wanted to be cool.
“Hi Neil,” I said. I couldn’t recall his last name, but I remembered him from our Calculus study group. He was accompanied by a lady I sort of recognized, but I couldn’t remember her name at all.
“You remember Barb, don’t you?” Neil said.
“Sure I do,” I replied.
I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last time I lied about remembering someone tonight.
Neil got permission from the people behind me to butt in line. Since we were almost at the back of the line anyway, no one seemed to object.
Most of the people here knew nothing about our reunion; they had come because it was the grand opening of the club.
“I didn’t see your name on the Facebook page as one of the attendees,” Neil said.
“I only decided at the last minute to come,” I explained. “I wasn’t even sure I was in the right place.”
Barb pulled a small pamphlet from her purse and handed it to me. It had a brief description of each of the clubs within the whole complex. One club featured Pop music, the second featured Country & Western, another Folk Music, the fourth Rhythm & Blues, and the last club featured music from the Sixties.
“We were told we could enter through whichever club we liked,” Barb said, “but our whole graduating class is supposed to meet in the Sixties club at midnight. Judy has reserved a special section just for us. You remember Judy Prescott, right?”
“Of course I do,” I said.
This time, I wasn’t lying. Judy and I had dated while at university, but had gone our separate ways after graduation. We hadn’t spoken to each other since then. I felt the tension grow in my chest and I suddenly wondered if I was about to have my first heart attack.
“She’s one of the owners of the club,” Neil said. “That’s one of the reasons we’re having our reunion here.”
The line continued to shuffle forward until we found ourselves at the entrance.
“Fifty bucks,” the bouncer at the door said.
I glared at him. “Fifty bucks just to get in the door?”
“It’s opening night, old-man. You could have saved yourself twenty bucks if you’d purchased your ticket in advance.” He flashed a fake smile. “And there’s no senior’s discount.”
If I was twenty years younger, I would have kicked his ass for his attitude. Okay, maybe fifty years younger.
It was too late to turn back now. I pulled the money from my wallet and handed it to him. When I stepped through the door, a pretty girl handed me a pair of sunglasses.
“What are these for?” I asked.
“For the laser light show,” the girl said. “You have to wear them to get the full effect.”
I took the glasses and put them in the front vest pocket of my sports-jacket.
Neil, Barb and I made our way into the club. I let them take the lead as I had no idea where I was going.
The club was much larger than it appeared from the outside. There were numerous U-shaped booths that could accommodate about eight people each, all facing an enormous stage. Waitresses moved quickly from table to table serving drinks.
The floor of the club sloped gently from back to front so all of the guests, even those near the back, could easily see the performers. There was a huge dance floor just in front of the stage, although the people up there didn’t appear to be dancing, just jumping up and down to the music. I suddenly felt even older than I was.
As the music continued, we walked through the club looking for others from our class. We found a few familiar faces near the back and joined them in their booth. I waved a hello at them, but it was too loud to carry on a conversation with anyone other than Neil and Barb.
We shared stories about the ups and downs of our careers since we’d graduated. Neil and Barb had been retired for about twelve years now.
“How about you?” Neil asked.
“I didn’t retire until I was sixty-eight,” I said. “I owned a small legal software company and ended up selling it to a big U.S. firm. They kept me around for a few years after that on a consulting basis to help with the transition. It was good money and it helped us build up a bit more of a nest-egg.”
“We decided to retire early,” Barb said, “and spend more of our kids’ inheritance.” She gave a sly smile. “How about you? Are you married? Have kids?”
“My wife passed away a few months ago,” I mumbled.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Barb said.
“We had three kids together,” I continued. “Michael, our oldest, is over forty years old now and doing quite well. He works in the banking industry, like his mom used to. Danny is three years younger, and is quite the entrepreneur. He’s always starting up some new venture of one type or another. Sarah, our baby, is ten years younger than Danny. She was our surprise baby and she’s got some challenges ahead of her.”
I could see that Neil and Barb wondered what those challenges were, but I didn’t want to get into it. I was pleased when they didn’t pursue it and changed the subject.
“Neil and I have been doing a lot of travelling the last few years,” Barb said. “We’ve taken a few river cruises through Europe. We’re planning to do another one next year. How about you?”
“We were planning to do some travelling,” I said, “but Maddie got sick before we really got to.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Neil said.
The event seemed to be turning into a pity party, with me playing the lead. I felt like I was killing off every topic of conversation.
“There’s no reason to be sad,” I said. “Maddie told me that her life had turned out better than she could have ever imagined. She said she’d felt she’d been really lucky her whole life and accomplished all of the important things.”
I could see they wondered how someone whose life had been cut so short could consider herself lucky. I have to admit, I wondered myself. I felt like I’d let Maddie down by not giving her more.
Our conversation was interrupted by the emcee on the stage.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we now have a special feature for you! It’s time to put on the special glasses you were given when you entered the building tonight.”
I reached into my suit jacket to get my glasses. Barb reached into her huge purse and pulled out the glasses for herself and Neil.
The emcee continued to fire up the crowd. “I’d like to introduce a DJ we’ve brought in from Los Angeles for a unique performance. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you DJ Vision!”
The music changed to a loud heart-thumping bass and drum rhythm. All eyes turned to the center of the stage which slowly started rising, illuminating the performer. He had a large conglomeration of equipment surrounding him, consisting of turntables, synthesizers and computer screens. He was working feverishly to keep all of the high-tech equipment in synch.
Suddenly a series of laser lights in a rainbow of colors appeared in the center of the stage below the DJ. They seemed to be transforming or building something, almost like watching a 3D-printer build an object out of thin air.
It took the crowd a while to realize what was happening, but we all seemed to recognize the shape being built at the same time. It was a woman. First, there were just the feet, and then the legs, and they were dancing to the rhythm of the music. As the image grew, it showed the hips of the woman who was wearing a red sequined party dress. I was sure I had seen the dress before.
The image of the woman continued to grow onstage. Strangely, I found myself attracted to her, even though I knew it was just a 3D image.
When the lasers started to build her face, I felt a weird sensation overtake me. I knew this woman. When the lasers built her nose and her eyes, it removed all doubt. How could this be happening? My mouth hung open in amazement.
The woman dancing on stage was my wife, Maddie.
I'll post additional chapters over the coming weeks/months. I hope you enjoy it.
The nightclub was a place called “Choices”, a monstrous building with five separate entrances, each one catering to a particular type of music. I was standing outside of the entrance that featured “Pop”. I’m not really into that type of music, but it was the club that had the shortest lineup to get in.
I was getting too old to be doing this shit. Here I was, at seventy-three years of age, standing outside of a Vegas nightclub along with hundreds of other people waiting to get in.
Why, you may ask?
Good question. I was starting to second-guess why I was here myself. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately – second guessing everything. It had started when Maddie, my wife of almost fifty years, had passed away a few months ago. Seven months, three days and fourteen hours to be exact, but who’s counting.
Maddie had told me I should attend the 50th anniversary celebration of my university graduating class, but I hadn’t replied to the invitation. Yet, here I was, standing in line. Maybe I was hoping that it would make her proud of me.
That’s all I’d ever wanted – my whole life – for people to be proud of me. At first, it was my parents, then my various bosses over the years, and then, most importantly, Maddie. I wish I had done better.
“Jay, Jay Tremblay, is that you?” someone said as they came toward me.
No one had called me Jay in years. My real name is Jasper but everyone at university had called me Jay and I’d never bothered to correct them. Jay sounded cooler than Jasper, and back in those days, I desperately wanted to be cool.
“Hi Neil,” I said. I couldn’t recall his last name, but I remembered him from our Calculus study group. He was accompanied by a lady I sort of recognized, but I couldn’t remember her name at all.
“You remember Barb, don’t you?” Neil said.
“Sure I do,” I replied.
I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last time I lied about remembering someone tonight.
Neil got permission from the people behind me to butt in line. Since we were almost at the back of the line anyway, no one seemed to object.
Most of the people here knew nothing about our reunion; they had come because it was the grand opening of the club.
“I didn’t see your name on the Facebook page as one of the attendees,” Neil said.
“I only decided at the last minute to come,” I explained. “I wasn’t even sure I was in the right place.”
Barb pulled a small pamphlet from her purse and handed it to me. It had a brief description of each of the clubs within the whole complex. One club featured Pop music, the second featured Country & Western, another Folk Music, the fourth Rhythm & Blues, and the last club featured music from the Sixties.
“We were told we could enter through whichever club we liked,” Barb said, “but our whole graduating class is supposed to meet in the Sixties club at midnight. Judy has reserved a special section just for us. You remember Judy Prescott, right?”
“Of course I do,” I said.
This time, I wasn’t lying. Judy and I had dated while at university, but had gone our separate ways after graduation. We hadn’t spoken to each other since then. I felt the tension grow in my chest and I suddenly wondered if I was about to have my first heart attack.
“She’s one of the owners of the club,” Neil said. “That’s one of the reasons we’re having our reunion here.”
The line continued to shuffle forward until we found ourselves at the entrance.
“Fifty bucks,” the bouncer at the door said.
I glared at him. “Fifty bucks just to get in the door?”
“It’s opening night, old-man. You could have saved yourself twenty bucks if you’d purchased your ticket in advance.” He flashed a fake smile. “And there’s no senior’s discount.”
If I was twenty years younger, I would have kicked his ass for his attitude. Okay, maybe fifty years younger.
It was too late to turn back now. I pulled the money from my wallet and handed it to him. When I stepped through the door, a pretty girl handed me a pair of sunglasses.
“What are these for?” I asked.
“For the laser light show,” the girl said. “You have to wear them to get the full effect.”
I took the glasses and put them in the front vest pocket of my sports-jacket.
Neil, Barb and I made our way into the club. I let them take the lead as I had no idea where I was going.
The club was much larger than it appeared from the outside. There were numerous U-shaped booths that could accommodate about eight people each, all facing an enormous stage. Waitresses moved quickly from table to table serving drinks.
The floor of the club sloped gently from back to front so all of the guests, even those near the back, could easily see the performers. There was a huge dance floor just in front of the stage, although the people up there didn’t appear to be dancing, just jumping up and down to the music. I suddenly felt even older than I was.
As the music continued, we walked through the club looking for others from our class. We found a few familiar faces near the back and joined them in their booth. I waved a hello at them, but it was too loud to carry on a conversation with anyone other than Neil and Barb.
We shared stories about the ups and downs of our careers since we’d graduated. Neil and Barb had been retired for about twelve years now.
“How about you?” Neil asked.
“I didn’t retire until I was sixty-eight,” I said. “I owned a small legal software company and ended up selling it to a big U.S. firm. They kept me around for a few years after that on a consulting basis to help with the transition. It was good money and it helped us build up a bit more of a nest-egg.”
“We decided to retire early,” Barb said, “and spend more of our kids’ inheritance.” She gave a sly smile. “How about you? Are you married? Have kids?”
“My wife passed away a few months ago,” I mumbled.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Barb said.
“We had three kids together,” I continued. “Michael, our oldest, is over forty years old now and doing quite well. He works in the banking industry, like his mom used to. Danny is three years younger, and is quite the entrepreneur. He’s always starting up some new venture of one type or another. Sarah, our baby, is ten years younger than Danny. She was our surprise baby and she’s got some challenges ahead of her.”
I could see that Neil and Barb wondered what those challenges were, but I didn’t want to get into it. I was pleased when they didn’t pursue it and changed the subject.
“Neil and I have been doing a lot of travelling the last few years,” Barb said. “We’ve taken a few river cruises through Europe. We’re planning to do another one next year. How about you?”
“We were planning to do some travelling,” I said, “but Maddie got sick before we really got to.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Neil said.
The event seemed to be turning into a pity party, with me playing the lead. I felt like I was killing off every topic of conversation.
“There’s no reason to be sad,” I said. “Maddie told me that her life had turned out better than she could have ever imagined. She said she’d felt she’d been really lucky her whole life and accomplished all of the important things.”
I could see they wondered how someone whose life had been cut so short could consider herself lucky. I have to admit, I wondered myself. I felt like I’d let Maddie down by not giving her more.
Our conversation was interrupted by the emcee on the stage.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we now have a special feature for you! It’s time to put on the special glasses you were given when you entered the building tonight.”
I reached into my suit jacket to get my glasses. Barb reached into her huge purse and pulled out the glasses for herself and Neil.
The emcee continued to fire up the crowd. “I’d like to introduce a DJ we’ve brought in from Los Angeles for a unique performance. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you DJ Vision!”
The music changed to a loud heart-thumping bass and drum rhythm. All eyes turned to the center of the stage which slowly started rising, illuminating the performer. He had a large conglomeration of equipment surrounding him, consisting of turntables, synthesizers and computer screens. He was working feverishly to keep all of the high-tech equipment in synch.
Suddenly a series of laser lights in a rainbow of colors appeared in the center of the stage below the DJ. They seemed to be transforming or building something, almost like watching a 3D-printer build an object out of thin air.
It took the crowd a while to realize what was happening, but we all seemed to recognize the shape being built at the same time. It was a woman. First, there were just the feet, and then the legs, and they were dancing to the rhythm of the music. As the image grew, it showed the hips of the woman who was wearing a red sequined party dress. I was sure I had seen the dress before.
The image of the woman continued to grow onstage. Strangely, I found myself attracted to her, even though I knew it was just a 3D image.
When the lasers started to build her face, I felt a weird sensation overtake me. I knew this woman. When the lasers built her nose and her eyes, it removed all doubt. How could this be happening? My mouth hung open in amazement.
The woman dancing on stage was my wife, Maddie.
February 26, 2019
It's a Small World
Since I'm from Canada, I like to head south for a few weeks in the winter to get a break from the snow and cold. About ten days ago, I was golfing in southern California with three people I'd never met before. Golf is a great sport to get to know people and, as often happens, we talked about our careers and hobbies during the round.
One of the fellows in my group expressed interest in my books, so I gave him one of my business cards. When he got home later that day, he told his wife he had played golf with a writer and he showed her my business card. To his surprise, she said my name sounded familiar. She looked through the books on her shelf and discovered that she'd already read my book The Back Nine. Not only that, but she said she'd really enjoyed it and already shared it with several other ladies from her golf club.
I normally only sell a few hundred copies of each of my books so the odds of me meeting someone from another country who had already read one of my books seemed astronomically small.
Today, he invited me to play a round of golf at his home club in Murietta, California. After the round, he asked if I would mind signing his wife's copy of the book. I was thrilled.
It just proves how small the world actually is.
One of the fellows in my group expressed interest in my books, so I gave him one of my business cards. When he got home later that day, he told his wife he had played golf with a writer and he showed her my business card. To his surprise, she said my name sounded familiar. She looked through the books on her shelf and discovered that she'd already read my book The Back Nine. Not only that, but she said she'd really enjoyed it and already shared it with several other ladies from her golf club.
I normally only sell a few hundred copies of each of my books so the odds of me meeting someone from another country who had already read one of my books seemed astronomically small.
Today, he invited me to play a round of golf at his home club in Murietta, California. After the round, he asked if I would mind signing his wife's copy of the book. I was thrilled.
It just proves how small the world actually is.
January 2, 2019
2018: Year in Review
From an author's perspective, 2018 was another year of mixed results.
In April, I released "The Third Option", my 6th novel, and have been pleased with the feedback I've received on the book. However, sales were slow and I've only sold 44 copies to date.
Since this was the third and final book in The Goliath Trilogy, I decided (after asking for advice from other authors here on Goodreads) to create a new publication combining all three books. I was hoping to have both the Kindle and paperback versions available for Christmas but only managed to get the Kindle version ready in time. (The paperback proof copy decided to take a tour of several provinces thanks to the postal service even though it only had to come straight north from California to British Columbia.)
I ran a Boxing Week promotion for the Kindle version of the trilogy where it was priced at 99 cents (normally $6.95). I even ran a Facebook promotion where I specifically targeted Kindle users in the United States which resulted in zero sales. The only sales I made were in Canada and the U.K. which proves, once again, that I am terrible at marketing.
On the plus side, my 2016 novel "The Back Nine" continues to sell every month even though I rarely do any marketing for it.
During the year, I sold about $700 worth of books personally, got another $350 in royalties for sales made online, and ended up making a profit of about $450.
I recently read an article from the CBC which reported that the average Canadian writer makes $9,380 a year, down 27% from the results from three years ago and down a whopping 78% from the results in 1998. If you want get rich, don't become a writer.
I guess I shouldn't complain as I don't write full-time so anything in the black should be considered a good thing.
Although I rarely give away books for free, I've decided to stop the free promotions of the Kindle versions of my books entirely. When I released "The Third Option", it was suggested that I give away copies of the first two books in the series to stimulate sales of the third book. I ran a 5-day promotion doing just that, and even dropped the price of the third book to 99 cents. People snatched up copies of the free books and didn't buy any copies (not one) of the third book.
So what's planned for 2019? I expect to release the paperback version of The Goliath Trilogy in January.
I've also started a new book called "Choices". It's a story about a guy who goes to the 50th anniversary reunion of his university graduating class which takes place in a Las Vegas nightclub called "Choices". He discovers that this is not your typical nightclub as he gets to re-think some of the choices he's made over the last fifty years. What if life offered you a do-over? Would you take it?
I'm hoping to have the new book released by the end of 2019.
In April, I released "The Third Option", my 6th novel, and have been pleased with the feedback I've received on the book. However, sales were slow and I've only sold 44 copies to date.
Since this was the third and final book in The Goliath Trilogy, I decided (after asking for advice from other authors here on Goodreads) to create a new publication combining all three books. I was hoping to have both the Kindle and paperback versions available for Christmas but only managed to get the Kindle version ready in time. (The paperback proof copy decided to take a tour of several provinces thanks to the postal service even though it only had to come straight north from California to British Columbia.)
I ran a Boxing Week promotion for the Kindle version of the trilogy where it was priced at 99 cents (normally $6.95). I even ran a Facebook promotion where I specifically targeted Kindle users in the United States which resulted in zero sales. The only sales I made were in Canada and the U.K. which proves, once again, that I am terrible at marketing.
On the plus side, my 2016 novel "The Back Nine" continues to sell every month even though I rarely do any marketing for it.
During the year, I sold about $700 worth of books personally, got another $350 in royalties for sales made online, and ended up making a profit of about $450.
I recently read an article from the CBC which reported that the average Canadian writer makes $9,380 a year, down 27% from the results from three years ago and down a whopping 78% from the results in 1998. If you want get rich, don't become a writer.
I guess I shouldn't complain as I don't write full-time so anything in the black should be considered a good thing.
Although I rarely give away books for free, I've decided to stop the free promotions of the Kindle versions of my books entirely. When I released "The Third Option", it was suggested that I give away copies of the first two books in the series to stimulate sales of the third book. I ran a 5-day promotion doing just that, and even dropped the price of the third book to 99 cents. People snatched up copies of the free books and didn't buy any copies (not one) of the third book.
So what's planned for 2019? I expect to release the paperback version of The Goliath Trilogy in January.
I've also started a new book called "Choices". It's a story about a guy who goes to the 50th anniversary reunion of his university graduating class which takes place in a Las Vegas nightclub called "Choices". He discovers that this is not your typical nightclub as he gets to re-think some of the choices he's made over the last fifty years. What if life offered you a do-over? Would you take it?
I'm hoping to have the new book released by the end of 2019.
April 19, 2018
The Third Option - Part 6
This is part six of my new novel "The Third Option" which should be released in May.
David scanned the lobby looking for Bronx, but didn’t see her. He pulled out his cell phone to check the time and saw he was a few minutes early. He hadn’t received a text from her, so he decided to wait in one of the huge chairs in the lobby.
After about twenty minutes, he found himself feeling impatient and uncomfortable. Several of the staff had eyed him suspiciously as he sat holding his backpack. He did not fit the profile of their typical guest. He decided to head out the gold revolving doors to wait outside.
“No thanks”, David said to the bellboy who offered to get him a cab. “I’m just meeting someone here.”
David stood outside the glass doors, periodically glancing back inside to make sure Bronx hadn’t entered the hotel through another entrance.
His eyes lit up when he saw her about half a block away heading toward the hotel. Her blonde hair was a little longer than when he had last seen her, but it would still be considered short. He noticed she had a cute little bounce when she walked, seemingly trying not to step on the cracks in the sidewalk. When she looked up and saw him, her pace quickened.
“David, I’m so glad you came to visit,” she said as she threw her arms around him.
David was a little over six feet tall and Bronx was almost a foot shorter, but their bodies seemed to fit perfectly as they both held the embrace. David felt a little self-conscious when he noticed the bellboy watching them.
“So you’re going to show me Central Park?” David asked.
“New plan. That asshole president of ours is in town and we’re going over to join the protest.” Bronx grabbed his hand. “Come on. It’s only a five minute walk from here.”
The crowds grew as they got closer to where the president was staying. The police had blocked off the street in front of the building so the crowds were kept at a distance.
“What exactly are we protesting?” David asked.
“Everything.”
David looked at the numerous signs being held by the protestors. Bronx was right. People were protesting his plan to build a wall along the Mexican border, his immigration policies, his sexist views of women, his bashing of the press – even his denial of the global warming problem. The crowd started to chant as several police cars, a bunch of big black SUVs, and even more limousines pulled up in front of the building.
David was tall enough to see over most of the crowd, but Bronx wasn’t as fortunate.
“I can’t see – I can’t see,” she said. “Lift me up on your shoulders.”
David quickly dropped to one knee and Bronx climbed onto his shoulders. He stood up just as the limousines drove by in front of them.
David was a little shocked at the profanities shouted by the people in the crowd. Several held signs saying the president should resign or be impeached. A few even threatened his life.
A few seconds later, the president emerged from the limousine, gave a quick wave to the crowd, and headed into the towering building. He was completely surrounded by a team of secret service agents. There were several other limousines in front of the building as well, but no one emerged from them. David wondered who was inside.
The crowd started to disperse after the president had entered the building.
“Holy shit,” Bronx said. “Quick – get me down!”
David dropped to one knee and Bronx climbed off his shoulders.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“It’s my Dad. He’s one of the cops doing crowd control.” They continued to crouch behind the people in front of them. “My Dad told me to stay away from this area and I told him we wouldn’t be anywhere close – that we were going to Central Park. So, if he asks anything about it tonight, we were never here – got it?”
“Yeah, okay,” David said.
Bronx grabbed his hand and led him back through the crowd, continuing to crouch as they made their exit. Hopefully, no one saw them.
* * *
Inside one of the remaining limousines, FBI agent Charles Dent watched the NYPD move to break up the crowd.
“Show’s over – time to move along,” he heard one of the officers yell.
However, Dent stayed in the limo and scanned the crowd looking for any potential threats. Although the Secret Service was responsible for protecting the president and his immediate family, Dent was on special assignment by the FBI to provide protection for his extended family. Agent Dent had been on this assignment ever since the presidential campaign started and he had grown quite close to them. The family called him Charles and treated him like their favorite uncle. Charles had grown particularly fond of the president’s grandson and affectionately called him D3.
“Why does everyone hate Grandpa so much?” D3 asked.
“They don’t hate him – most people love him,” his mother answered. “There’s just a few people who don’t like what he’s trying to do.”
But the kid was not stupid. Although he was only ten years old, Charles knew D3 could read the signs and see the anger on the people’s faces. D3 looked at his mother who gave him a reassuring smile and then at Charles. Charles quickly looked away and continued his scan of the crowd.
“POTUS is secured,” Charles heard in his earpiece. “Proceed with securing the family.”
“Copy that,” Charles said into his microphone. “Preparing to move Everest and his family.”
The family had been around the Secret Service long enough to know that Everest was the codename for the president’s son. They all got ready to leave the limo.
“What’s my codename?” D3 asked Charles.
Charles knew the kid didn’t have one. They were only assigned to the president and his immediate family, plus some other key people in the government. The names weren’t assigned by the Secret Service; they were actually assigned by the White House Communications Agency.
“How about we call you D3,” Charles said with a smile. He didn’t reveal that some of the secret service agents referred to him as Pinocchio because of his habit of lying when he was in trouble, a trait he seemed to have picked up from his grandfather. Charles didn’t like that nickname because he liked the kid. D3 just panicked when he was caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, but he always came clean and told the truth in the end.
Charles exited the limo and stood in front of the door for a few seconds doing a final scan of the crowd. Finally, he gave the signal for Everest and his family to exit the limo and they escorted them into the building.
Everything was secure.
David scanned the lobby looking for Bronx, but didn’t see her. He pulled out his cell phone to check the time and saw he was a few minutes early. He hadn’t received a text from her, so he decided to wait in one of the huge chairs in the lobby.
After about twenty minutes, he found himself feeling impatient and uncomfortable. Several of the staff had eyed him suspiciously as he sat holding his backpack. He did not fit the profile of their typical guest. He decided to head out the gold revolving doors to wait outside.
“No thanks”, David said to the bellboy who offered to get him a cab. “I’m just meeting someone here.”
David stood outside the glass doors, periodically glancing back inside to make sure Bronx hadn’t entered the hotel through another entrance.
His eyes lit up when he saw her about half a block away heading toward the hotel. Her blonde hair was a little longer than when he had last seen her, but it would still be considered short. He noticed she had a cute little bounce when she walked, seemingly trying not to step on the cracks in the sidewalk. When she looked up and saw him, her pace quickened.
“David, I’m so glad you came to visit,” she said as she threw her arms around him.
David was a little over six feet tall and Bronx was almost a foot shorter, but their bodies seemed to fit perfectly as they both held the embrace. David felt a little self-conscious when he noticed the bellboy watching them.
“So you’re going to show me Central Park?” David asked.
“New plan. That asshole president of ours is in town and we’re going over to join the protest.” Bronx grabbed his hand. “Come on. It’s only a five minute walk from here.”
The crowds grew as they got closer to where the president was staying. The police had blocked off the street in front of the building so the crowds were kept at a distance.
“What exactly are we protesting?” David asked.
“Everything.”
David looked at the numerous signs being held by the protestors. Bronx was right. People were protesting his plan to build a wall along the Mexican border, his immigration policies, his sexist views of women, his bashing of the press – even his denial of the global warming problem. The crowd started to chant as several police cars, a bunch of big black SUVs, and even more limousines pulled up in front of the building.
David was tall enough to see over most of the crowd, but Bronx wasn’t as fortunate.
“I can’t see – I can’t see,” she said. “Lift me up on your shoulders.”
David quickly dropped to one knee and Bronx climbed onto his shoulders. He stood up just as the limousines drove by in front of them.
David was a little shocked at the profanities shouted by the people in the crowd. Several held signs saying the president should resign or be impeached. A few even threatened his life.
A few seconds later, the president emerged from the limousine, gave a quick wave to the crowd, and headed into the towering building. He was completely surrounded by a team of secret service agents. There were several other limousines in front of the building as well, but no one emerged from them. David wondered who was inside.
The crowd started to disperse after the president had entered the building.
“Holy shit,” Bronx said. “Quick – get me down!”
David dropped to one knee and Bronx climbed off his shoulders.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“It’s my Dad. He’s one of the cops doing crowd control.” They continued to crouch behind the people in front of them. “My Dad told me to stay away from this area and I told him we wouldn’t be anywhere close – that we were going to Central Park. So, if he asks anything about it tonight, we were never here – got it?”
“Yeah, okay,” David said.
Bronx grabbed his hand and led him back through the crowd, continuing to crouch as they made their exit. Hopefully, no one saw them.
* * *
Inside one of the remaining limousines, FBI agent Charles Dent watched the NYPD move to break up the crowd.
“Show’s over – time to move along,” he heard one of the officers yell.
However, Dent stayed in the limo and scanned the crowd looking for any potential threats. Although the Secret Service was responsible for protecting the president and his immediate family, Dent was on special assignment by the FBI to provide protection for his extended family. Agent Dent had been on this assignment ever since the presidential campaign started and he had grown quite close to them. The family called him Charles and treated him like their favorite uncle. Charles had grown particularly fond of the president’s grandson and affectionately called him D3.
“Why does everyone hate Grandpa so much?” D3 asked.
“They don’t hate him – most people love him,” his mother answered. “There’s just a few people who don’t like what he’s trying to do.”
But the kid was not stupid. Although he was only ten years old, Charles knew D3 could read the signs and see the anger on the people’s faces. D3 looked at his mother who gave him a reassuring smile and then at Charles. Charles quickly looked away and continued his scan of the crowd.
“POTUS is secured,” Charles heard in his earpiece. “Proceed with securing the family.”
“Copy that,” Charles said into his microphone. “Preparing to move Everest and his family.”
The family had been around the Secret Service long enough to know that Everest was the codename for the president’s son. They all got ready to leave the limo.
“What’s my codename?” D3 asked Charles.
Charles knew the kid didn’t have one. They were only assigned to the president and his immediate family, plus some other key people in the government. The names weren’t assigned by the Secret Service; they were actually assigned by the White House Communications Agency.
“How about we call you D3,” Charles said with a smile. He didn’t reveal that some of the secret service agents referred to him as Pinocchio because of his habit of lying when he was in trouble, a trait he seemed to have picked up from his grandfather. Charles didn’t like that nickname because he liked the kid. D3 just panicked when he was caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, but he always came clean and told the truth in the end.
Charles exited the limo and stood in front of the door for a few seconds doing a final scan of the crowd. Finally, he gave the signal for Everest and his family to exit the limo and they escorted them into the building.
Everything was secure.
April 12, 2018
The Third Option - Part 5
This is part five of my new novel "The Third Option" which is expected to be released in May.
The frequency of Henry Shaw’s trips to New York picked up after the new year. He shoved his briefcase under the seat in front of him as he and David prepared to land in New York. David gazed in amazement at the Manhattan skyline as their plane descended. Henry remembered being amazed the first time he had flown into New York, but the novelty had worn off with the number of trips he’d made over the last few months.
“How long do you think it will take us to get through Customs?” David asked his father.
“We cleared that back in Toronto.”
“Really? I thought the president said they were going to step up security at the borders. That was easier than I thought.”
“They didn’t let him do everything he said he would,” Henry said. “It turns out some of the things he wanted to do were illegal.”
Despite that, Henry knew that getting across the border was a hit and miss thing, somewhat dependent on the mood of the particular customs and security agent you encountered. Because he travelled so much, Henry had a Nexus card that helped reduce the wait times. But he thought having David accompany him on this trip would slow things down. He smiled as he recalled the interaction between David and the agent.
“What is the purpose of your visit to the United States?” the agent had asked.
“A girl,” David had said matter-of-factly. “I’m here to find out if I have any hope with her.”
The agent had tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh at the response. “Good luck with that,” he said as he waved them through.
They quickly made their way out of the airport as they both just had their carry-on luggage. David had everything he needed for their 3-day trip in his backpack.
“Thirteen-forty-five sixth avenue,” Henry said to the driver when they got into the taxi. “How’s traffic looking this morning?”
“Should be about forty minutes,” the driver said. “Maybe a bit longer. They’ve closed some roads cuz the president is in town.”
Henry knew the president liked to come back to New York whenever he could. However, the cost of securing the president and his family while in New York was growing in magnitude and the press had been hammering him on it.
“Are you sure you’ve got a place to stay?” Henry asked David as the taxi drove toward Manhattan.
“Yeah, Bronx said I could crash on her couch. She’s going to meet me at the Park Lane Hotel this morning, give me a quick tour of Central Park, and then we’ll take the subway out to her place.”
Henry tapped the partition between the front and back seats of the taxi. “We’ll be dropping my son off at the Park Lane Hotel on the way,” he said to the driver.
“No problem,” the driver said.
“She still lives with her father, doesn’t she?” Henry asked his son.
David nodded.
“So what does he think about you coming to visit?”
Henry could tell by the look on David’s face that he hadn’t factored her father into his plans.
“I think he’s cool with it,” David said.
“Well I’m staying at the Hyatt on 57th street if things don’t work out. I’ll be in meetings all day, but you can text me if you need anything.”
“I thought Laura was coming to New York,” David said.
“She’s not arriving until tomorrow. She’s coming in to do some research on a story about the president’s business dealings and then we’re going to see a play tomorrow night. She flies back to Chicago on Wednesday, around the same time we fly back to Toronto.”
David had gotten to know Laura fairly well and seemed to approve of his father’s relationship with her. But for some reason, Henry still felt nervous – or was it guilt – for having a relationship with someone other than his boys’ mother.
As they got closer to their destination, the traffic got heavier and heavier until it came to a complete stop. The police had blocked off the road as a group of protestors marched by. Many of the protestors were carrying signs with statements like “We don’t need a wall” and “Racism and Bigotry is not the answer”.
The taxi driver rolled down his window, waved to one of the taxis going the other way, and did a U-turn in behind him. “Just goin’ to screw a U-ball to get us out of this shit”, he said in explanation.
It worked. A few more quick turns and they found themselves in front of the Park Lane Hotel.
“This is my stop,” David said as he got out of the cab.
“Be careful,” Henry said, “and call or text me if you need anything.”
David smiled and gave a wave as he headed into the hotel.
The frequency of Henry Shaw’s trips to New York picked up after the new year. He shoved his briefcase under the seat in front of him as he and David prepared to land in New York. David gazed in amazement at the Manhattan skyline as their plane descended. Henry remembered being amazed the first time he had flown into New York, but the novelty had worn off with the number of trips he’d made over the last few months.
“How long do you think it will take us to get through Customs?” David asked his father.
“We cleared that back in Toronto.”
“Really? I thought the president said they were going to step up security at the borders. That was easier than I thought.”
“They didn’t let him do everything he said he would,” Henry said. “It turns out some of the things he wanted to do were illegal.”
Despite that, Henry knew that getting across the border was a hit and miss thing, somewhat dependent on the mood of the particular customs and security agent you encountered. Because he travelled so much, Henry had a Nexus card that helped reduce the wait times. But he thought having David accompany him on this trip would slow things down. He smiled as he recalled the interaction between David and the agent.
“What is the purpose of your visit to the United States?” the agent had asked.
“A girl,” David had said matter-of-factly. “I’m here to find out if I have any hope with her.”
The agent had tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh at the response. “Good luck with that,” he said as he waved them through.
They quickly made their way out of the airport as they both just had their carry-on luggage. David had everything he needed for their 3-day trip in his backpack.
“Thirteen-forty-five sixth avenue,” Henry said to the driver when they got into the taxi. “How’s traffic looking this morning?”
“Should be about forty minutes,” the driver said. “Maybe a bit longer. They’ve closed some roads cuz the president is in town.”
Henry knew the president liked to come back to New York whenever he could. However, the cost of securing the president and his family while in New York was growing in magnitude and the press had been hammering him on it.
“Are you sure you’ve got a place to stay?” Henry asked David as the taxi drove toward Manhattan.
“Yeah, Bronx said I could crash on her couch. She’s going to meet me at the Park Lane Hotel this morning, give me a quick tour of Central Park, and then we’ll take the subway out to her place.”
Henry tapped the partition between the front and back seats of the taxi. “We’ll be dropping my son off at the Park Lane Hotel on the way,” he said to the driver.
“No problem,” the driver said.
“She still lives with her father, doesn’t she?” Henry asked his son.
David nodded.
“So what does he think about you coming to visit?”
Henry could tell by the look on David’s face that he hadn’t factored her father into his plans.
“I think he’s cool with it,” David said.
“Well I’m staying at the Hyatt on 57th street if things don’t work out. I’ll be in meetings all day, but you can text me if you need anything.”
“I thought Laura was coming to New York,” David said.
“She’s not arriving until tomorrow. She’s coming in to do some research on a story about the president’s business dealings and then we’re going to see a play tomorrow night. She flies back to Chicago on Wednesday, around the same time we fly back to Toronto.”
David had gotten to know Laura fairly well and seemed to approve of his father’s relationship with her. But for some reason, Henry still felt nervous – or was it guilt – for having a relationship with someone other than his boys’ mother.
As they got closer to their destination, the traffic got heavier and heavier until it came to a complete stop. The police had blocked off the road as a group of protestors marched by. Many of the protestors were carrying signs with statements like “We don’t need a wall” and “Racism and Bigotry is not the answer”.
The taxi driver rolled down his window, waved to one of the taxis going the other way, and did a U-turn in behind him. “Just goin’ to screw a U-ball to get us out of this shit”, he said in explanation.
It worked. A few more quick turns and they found themselves in front of the Park Lane Hotel.
“This is my stop,” David said as he got out of the cab.
“Be careful,” Henry said, “and call or text me if you need anything.”
David smiled and gave a wave as he headed into the hotel.
