Yearly Archives: 2012

Company policy

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Ed ran his hand across a day’s stubble. “What’s Frank Dewitt’s name doing on this list?”

“He’s a fat cat dinosaur,” replied Jeff, the young executive on the other side of the desk. “And that’s the first place we trim.”

“If I listed the things that have kept this company afloat for the last twenty years, every page would start with ‘Frank’.”

“Edward,” said Jeff, “Are you arguing with me?”

Ed moved his hand from his stubble to the back of his neck. “I think you forget my position is being eliminated.”

“What’s your point?” Jeff leaned across towards his employee.… Read the rest

Conference Etiquette

Posted on by February 25, 2020

The woman with the severe skirt settles down across the aisle from me. “I’ve won twenty short story awards.” Her voice is a melody of Southern culture, the “I” and “r’s” softened just enough to reveal her region, but the grammar word perfect. She smiles at me.

“Hi, I’m Jessie.”  I exaggerate my long Midwestern “I” and type into the computer straddling my lap..

“Oh. I’m Camille. You said you are… Jerry?” She squints at my name badge, which has been flipped around backwards since I got on the conference center elevator and bent over to tie some kid’s shoe.

“Lisa actually.… Read the rest

Conferences

Posted on by February 25, 2020

I just came back from a writer’s conference. So if I’m a regular visitor to your blog and you’ve missed me this weekend, it’s because I’ve been in Nashville. If you ever get the chance to go to Killer Nashville, it’s worth every penny. I met with editors, agents, fellow writers, law enforcement officials, and mystery fans. Peter Straub was just one of  three guest speakers. The cost is reasonable, and it’s a midsized conference, so you will NOT get lost in the crowd.

That said, I’m exhausted, and not just physically. I just tried to sleep for an hour and got out of bed to type, because all of the voices and emotions of the weekend are roiling over me.… Read the rest

Rip Tide

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Quinn Burgess dove down and opened his eyes behind his mask. The pretty little fish all darted away, and he swam after them until he had to surface for air. He kicked down to stand up, but his feet didn’t reach the bottom. “Swam out too far there!” he said to no one. He turned to orient himself to the shore and jerked his head in surprise when he saw how far away it had gotten. He started swimming in, scooping his hands in a strong breast stroke.

The swimming felt hard, much harder than it had felt just a few minutes ago chasing the fish.… Read the rest

Sunset on the Beach

Posted on by February 25, 2020

“Here comes the cow,” muttered Lee.

“What?” Jay moved his feet around in the sand. They were wading in thigh-high water  on a sandbar a good distance from shore. The setting sun reflected orange, promising a vivid sunset.

“She’s been watching us since we got out here.” Lee tugged on Jay’s arm.

“Let her look.”  Jay nudged a sandy lump, but it was too curved, and he sent his toes exploring in another direction.

“I just want to enjoy this vacation.” Lee pulled harder. “I’m really not in the mood for a confrontation.”

“So ease up. Enjoy the vacation.” Jay removed Lee’s hand from his arm and instead intertwined their fingers.… Read the rest

1812 festival overture

Posted on by February 25, 2020

It starts in low with the strings, sorrowful and full of remembrance. Let us not forget those dead who went before, those who fell, those who stood until they could not stand, those who never let fail. Here is their pavane. Hope and trepidation hold hands and carry out their somber bodies.
Listen to the clarinet standing alone. Listen to the battle story. The nervous thrumming strings are the racing hearts of memory. Now the brass! The first clashes build to tempestuous thunder and then collapse. But the winds rally! The theme! It is time for the theme! But as strongly as it begins, it fades away, and the orchestra waits, poised.… Read the rest

Auditions

Posted on by February 25, 2020

“She’s got potential.” Mary Dailey’s pen hovered over a score sheet. She was thinking of herself more than the young flautist who had just left the room. She remembered being fifteen with coltish nerves.

“You’ve said that about every one of them.” Her colleague and fellow judge Janet Green tapped a pencil on the table, and the third judge, Mitch Engel shook his head.

The auditions proceeded, and Mary’s nerves clamped around her wrist so she could barely fill out the forms.  Janet said, “It’s your first year. It gets better after  you’ve done it awhile.” Still, when it was over, Janet, and Mitch made most of the selections with minimal input from Mary.… Read the rest

Sam Part IV

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Before you begin,  here’s the Sam series, in order, with an important note about ballet in there:

Sam Part I,

Sam Part II,

Beauty and the Beast

Sam Part III

Sam Part IV (this one)

Fix You

 

So, the last time we saw Sam, he had just jumped out of my car, and the family was headed for Wit’s End Lane really fast. As an emergency measure, the psychiatrist prescribed a mood stabilizer, Risperdal, and we hoped for the best.

The results were sudden and stunning.

For the first time in a year, we saw our son. The funny little guy under all that anger, the creative thinker hidden under all the frustration.… Read the rest

Giselle

Posted on by February 25, 2020

The ballet down here really tries to use kids in its productions. It actively seeks ways to incorporate young people into its works. This summer, Caroline got to be in the cast of Giselle. There is a summer program for older kids (older than Caroline) and at the end of their run, they put on a show. But the ballet draws from its younger set, and Caroline was chosen to participate. She has been in the Nutcracker. She knows how to handle herself onstage, and she has an idea of what’s expected of her during ballet.

She came home from the dress rehearsal wailing, “I can’t be in the show if I don’t have eyeliner.”… Read the rest

Sunday Sins: Anna Karenina

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Sundays have been far too pious in this town of late. That means, yes ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for another edition of SUNDAY SIN. And what better book to save from itself than that bursting-with-lust tome Anna Karenina. None, methinks. With sexuality, women’s roles, and repression lying in the heart of this novel, its characters simply beg for some sexual healing from Eden Fantasys. Oh yes. This is sponsored content. But I think you know my integrity (which is utterly different from ‘purity’) is sound.

First, a brief plot rundown omitting many salient points for those of you who can’t handle Tolstoy.… Read the rest