So Much to Write About

I’m thinking and with my thoughts I ramble out on my keyboard any number of subjects I want to share with you my loyal readers. I’m nearly finished with the book I’ve been working on since December. It’s the last of the Tequila Sunrise series.

I could discuss with you the weather, especially down in Texas blamed, as per Governor Abbot on the Green New Deal, though it isn’t even a law passed by Congress yet.

I thought of my present book that is available, A Man’s Passion. Marketing is working feverishly on getting bookstores and others interested in signing on and selling this novella as well as me who have sent them various ideas that might bear fruit. I do wish selling books in this day and age was easier.

But, then again, selling books was never an easy endeavor. Stephen King was rejected over 30 times before someone took a chance on Carrie. Moby Dick never made it past dusty library shelves. It’s still an unpopular read because it is so boringly long, and why Melville worked in the US Patent office.

I could talk about the COVID pandemic and the fact I received my second dose today. No side effects yet, though I’m sure my arm will ache a bit tomorrow. The numbers are going down across the state and country it appears, though these variants that are coming out may become a new nightmare. We’ll see how that bears out in the months to come.

I won’t talk about Trump mostly because there’s really nothing to talk about. I knew the impeachment was a complete waste of taxpayer money. There’s a much more urgent crisis than that loser.

The progressive wing of the Democratic Party wants to pass stuff they know won’t fly in two years after the mid-term elections when they will lose both houses because no one want to spend billions on student debt relief and a 15 dollar per hour minimum wage. If you think prices for dining out, buying groceries and the like are too expensive now, just wait when that goes through.

Here’s an idea for those congressmen and women and senators out there, cut your own wages in half, eliminate Trumps tax cut, and decrease wasteful spending on pet projects. Then maybe Biden won’t be in such a hurry to pass something as ludicrous as a minimum wage increase or forgiving student loan debt. WE might then have something like a balanced budget or even a surplus to work with instead.

Home Coming

Eastern State Hospital in Medical Lake, Washington released my stepson from their care having determined he was no longer a threat to himself or others after his last psychotic episode back in September.

I saw him Tuesday when I got home from work. He looked more like a zombie than a normal person that I associated with my stepson. “I’m really sorry about all the things I’ve said to you,” he told me right off, which that in and of itself was significant. To know him is to know he never apologized for anything he said or done.

“It’s all good,” I told him. What else could I say to someone who appeared as a portion of his former self. I figured he was heavily medicated and those words that came out were not his but his mother’s or the doctors who treated him. He looked right through me, then he turned around and went back down stairs.

Later, after I showered and dressed in my casual wear of sweatpants and tee shirt I went down to my office to relax. He came in while I watched the local news. “I’m really sorry about the hurtful things I said to you over the phone.”

“It’s all good. I figured you didn’t mean half the stuff you told me.” I knew that was a lie. I knew he meant every word, but I didn’t want confrontation at a time like this when he appeared to sincerely want to mend bridges. As I’ve said in the past, I build bridges as a general rule, not tear them down, or build walls.

He was wearing a mask which I thought ironic because my wife made such an issue over the fact that the staff at Eastern had vaccinated him against corona virus. He offered his hand for me. I shook it with a firm grip. He equaled my pressure with his.

We had dinner and then I took him to the corner market for a can of Copenhagen chew. He got inside my Dodge Charger and again he told me, “I’m really sorry for anything I’ve said or done to you.”

It’s alright, it’s all water under the bridge,” I replied. I realized he was probably thinking he was being sincere, but at the same time, it’s the same song and dance he told us before and he seemed serious until he sank back into his old habits of abuse and dependency. If it’s a new him and he actually wants to change, then it will be a lot to get used to.

Book Preview

To my loyal readers, the following is a sample of my latest published book, A Man’s Passion. If you are interested, it’s available online at Barnes and Noble and on Amazon in print and E-book formats. Thank you all for your continued support.

“Granny Hattie, are you ready?”

Hattie Black’s back appeared stooped, the wrinkles om her pale, ivory face pronounced, and the liver spotted hands held her walker in front of her to help her maneuver about her room of the assisted living facility. It was warm and sunny that early October morning in Coral Gables, Florida.

Dorothy, though everyone in their family called her Dot, just turned twenty and was engaged to a college football athlete named Rex. Dot’s nose piercing gave away her generation, along with the tattoo of a unicorn prominently displayed on her upper back and shoulder, to the chagrin of her great grandmother. Her brown hair had a natural curl to it. Dot wore white shorts, white blouse and sandals, her Ray-Bans held up on her head.

Hattie Black used her walker to pull herself up from the twin sized hospital bed. Her Georgia accent ran from her mouth as smooth as molasses.

“Soon, child, soon,” she replied as she moved slowly in the direction of her front door. “Dot, where are we going again?” She handed Dot an oversized beaded handbag, which she placed firmly over her young shoulder.

“Montgomery, Alabama. Remember? You wanted to go to that lunching museum. And I told you I would drive you there,” Dot replied pulling her sunglasses over her brown eyes. She sounded stressed and frustrated by always reminding her great-grandmother of things she wanted to do but seemingly, increasingly, always forgetting.

“I read in the newspaper a police officer shot another black boy.”

“Yes, ma’am, but they prefer we call them African-American now.” Hattie smiled at her.

“Not so long ago, child, my pa used another word. He used it as regular as clockwork.” Dot frowned. “And he would have called you an Oriol.”

“Did he live to see what happened? You know with the civil rights movement and desegregation?”

“Oh yes, he did. I hoped he would have changed over time, but he didn’t. I sure do hope he’s resting comfortably in the oak casket of his.”

Are you gonna talk about all that happened about that time on the way to Montgomery?”

Hattie’s azure eyes looked deep into her great-granddaughter’s face before she replied, “In time, child, in time.”

Dot grabbed Hattie’s cane made of oak too and handed it to her. “You can leave that thing here.” She left the walker just inside the door and secured the door firmly. She held Hattie’s left hand, while Hattie’s right hand grasped the cane and began walking toward the main lobby in a slow and steady gait. The reception nurse, Miss Georgia sat and waved at them with her large, fat hands. Her cocoa colored …

A New Week

I missed that magazine; Newsweek back when it was a shiny magazine I could pull off any magazine rack at any grocery or book store. Now Newsweek as well as many of those bookstores are figments of our collective memories.

This morning I learned that Barnes & Noble are offering signed copies of certain books which got my interest piqued. I immediate wrote an email to marketing at my publisher to see how I could take advantage of that here. In this part of the country, bookstores are not opened for book signings, which is an integral part of selling you the author and the book itself. I’m hoping something positive comes from this because doing the limbo is not fun when I’m trying to launch a book I feel will be very successful once people know about it.

My last Zoom meeting with my Fiction Writers of Spokane was held Wednesday and it actually went off very well. For the most part, doing it in November and December, even pre-COVID-19, was bit of a challenge and this year wasn’t done at all because the organizer either forgot or figured the holidays would make it impossible to do a Zoom meeting.

As I was saying it went off better because, well it became much more spontaneous than structured around an organized agenda. I talked about my recently released A Man’s Passion.

Everyone else discussed marketing, the ways of writing a story which varies from plot driven or character driven, to voice and other variables that makes a story interesting. We even talked about the best method for writing, whether from a word processor, device, or a legal pad and pencil, scribbling everything out long hand. The latter being a slower method, but once in a while it provides the writer an opportunity to think how he or she wants to plot a story or develop a character. For a pantser like me, sometimes I too need to step back and jot out what I think is a better scene or plot twist or character idiosyncrasy.

We are all hopeful, as I’m certain you are that this Zoom business becomes an figment of our collective memories like shiny magazine covers and bookstores.

A Man’s Passion Release

It’s been two weeks since my book’s release and I hadn’t heard any great numbers coming across from my publisher yet. I sent Marketing an update on my end and I was expecting to hear positive feedback but got nothing really.

I’m banking on some reviews from you my loyal readers who have purchased A Man’s Passion. They promised they would include those reviews on the next printing, which I’m counting on sizable sales from.

Marketing also threw out feelers to bookstores and libraries in the area. They said they hadn’t heard back from them yet.

Of course, the problem, and it’s not just with me but everyone else who has released a book in the past year, it’s nearly impossible to get the marketing roller coaster rolling with this pandemic. I was hoping to do some kind of book signings but that isn’t even an option here.

So the best possible thing I can do is count on positive reviews to start flooding Amazon and Barnes & Noble to get a boost of support and sales. Right now marketing is at best iffy. I’m optimistic this book will take off because it is such an important story today.

History Repeating Itself

While I’m a firm believer in justice and allowing the culprit pay for his crime, I don’t believe we need to repeat history and convict Trump in the Senate for his obvious role of inciting the riots on the capitol last week.

He is a cancer to our country that needs to be removed and thrown away. Him leaving for Florida on his private plane just prior to the inauguration is proof he had no use for the trappings and traditions of the presidency or democracy for that matter. It’s my belief he won’t ever come back to Washington. He’ll have his flunky pilot do a fly over and flip off the newly sworn in President Biden along with the rest of the capital and more than likely the country.

It’s a safe bet he’ll not be seen nor heard from again. Why? Because he has dirty laundry he must deal with: Lawsuits, 400-million-dollar loans coming due and a whole host of possible criminal charges New York and federal prosecutors are waiting to levy against him, not to mention Putin and his outlaw gang of oligarchs who want what’s owed them.

He’s in deep doo-doo and his timing for this inciting a riot didn’t or couldn’t come at a better time. If he had done this two years ago rather than allegedly try and get the Ukrainian government to show illegal activities on behalf of the Bidens, then it would have been a slam- dunk. He would be in federal custody awaiting trial now as a result. He needs to leave the sooner the better.

So, I say let him flip off the capital and the rightfully elected leader of our country. Let him whine and carry on like a four-year-old, throw his temper-tantrum. He gets no sympathy from me or the other 80 million Americans who voted for Biden and against him, Donald J Trump.


I am still appalled by what occurred in our very capitol yesterday. I read the news feeds and saw the news on NBC. I just can’t believe that a sitting president would have this sickening love for power to stoke the fires of insurrection and encourage his fanatical followers to launch an attack against our very fundamental institution of democracy.

This morning after the Vice President formally certified the electoral college results, Trump finally promised a “peaceful transition of power.” It won’t bring back the life of that woman shot by a Capitol Police officer. It is too little too late. What little respect I held for this man; I have none now. His narcissism knows no bounds and his arrogance knows no humility. He has for all intents and purposes become this country’s worse president. The fact he couldn’t bring himself to concede to President elect Biden over two months ago only compounds this truth.

I’m sorry to those who believed in him and thought his presidency was so awesome and great. I’m sorry he fooled you. Five years ago my wife asked me why I didn’t like Trump and I told her because he’s a demagogue who would rather incite his will upon the people like her than offer actual solutions to the nation’s problems. After yesterday’s events, even she agrees.

It’s 6:45

It’s 6:45 on a Saturday evening a day after the new year 2021 has finally graced us with its presence.

Not much has changed except for the fact the weather is slightly warmer than normal today in Spokane. The snow we received on Wednesday, another record by the way, has begun melting. I believe it was nine inches that fell that day and night.

My inbox is cluttered with junk and more junk. The super conservative writer I follow only to use as laughing stock for my blogs, is still claiming China stole the election and no way did 80,000,000 people vote against his President Trump. “It must not stand,” he screams from his soap box. Like I said, I use him as fodder for when I want a good laugh.

The Corona virus is still alive and well while certain people who aren’t supposed to be vaccinated, are doing that very thing while the older people who do need it are standing in long lines for hours on end. It is, after all survival of the fittest. If you are too weak and infirmed to get vaccinated then obviously you must die so the healthier people get theirs.

I worked yesterday and so today I work harder to catch up for working at the job where I get paid. As a homeowner I work here for free. My macaw has begun eating my house which is the last thing I need prior to placing my house on the market.

I had a strange premonition back in elementary school. For whatever reason I picked 2020 as my death date. It almost happened but maybe it was meant for someone else. God knows too many people died that year. Let’s hope 2021 is much better.

A Christmas Wish

While Christmas isn’t my most favorite holiday, it’s definitely in the top three. I remember wanting stuff growing up. You know, those material things we want but somehow Mom and Dad couldn’t afford.

Later on in my life I was old enough and had money enough where I could buy what I wanted, and usually did, so material wants were placed on a back burner and I began to appreciate the other more esoteric dimensions of Christmas than wanting.

It is a lesson I try and place in the minds of my step grandchildren; life after all is more than giving or taking gifts. It’s after all, a relatively recent phenomena. The true meaning of Christmas, besides the birth of the Christ child, is measured in what we all wish for: family, togetherness, a safe and healthy life, and freedom from want.

So my family and friends who have supported me throughout the years, my wish for Christmas is happiness, success, and joy for everyone in the coming months and years to follow.

God bless everyone and Merry Christmas to all and a prosperous new year!

What’s in a Name?(Change)

Apparently a lot when it comes to how our nation has changed inn the past 100 years. The American Native Americans have fought for and received the name change for many sports franchises including the Washing NFL team, which hasn’t received a replacement yet and most recently the Cleveland Indians.

Related to this story is one that hits close to home. A street that bore the name of an infamous Indian fighter, was unanimously changed at a recent Spokane City Council meeting.

Colonel George Wright, like many Southern and Confederate heroes of the post Civil War movement that commemorated them, was a man who was no friend of the Native American tribes of the Spokane area in the late 1890s. His treatment of the indigenous tribes was comparable to what the Nazis did to the Jews in World War Two.

These changes are long overdue. What to rename a franchise’s name isn’t nearly as important as recognizing the wrongs of the past and correcting them in a timely manner.