How Safe Are We?

I have concerned friends and family member who have concerns, fears, and outright paranoia about the vaccines available to us through the pharmaceutical companies that offer them. From personal experience, I have taken both shot of the Moderna vaccine and while had side affects akin to a mild flu bug I feel fine. But that doesn’t mean that there are people out there who for reasons not considered did suffer other more serious side affects related to anyone being vaccinated including allergies and histories of adverse reactions.

The CDC has guidelines on safety protocols that were used to ensure that the representative companies giving those shots adhered to the letter of the law when it came to being completely transparent and above board.

In a Journal of American Medical Association report (JAMA), the process by which the pharmaceutical companies fast-tracked the vaccines from research and development to us was as incredible as the development of the polio vaccine was in the early 1950s.

Conversely, another report from JAMA admits more studies need to be done to test the long-term effects this vaccine has on us. But it also admitted the protocols in placed to do the testing were above board and met the minimum requirements.

One thing that stood out here is the fact that we can not get corona virus from the shot itself because we are not getting the virus injected into our system. It is an RNA inhibitor instead.

This is where reality meets hope. While I am in favor of getting every American
vaccinated and hope that we reach herd immunity in this country so that we can get back to a

sense of normalcy, there are still those out there who want to make this into a political issue rather than a health and safety issue.

While President Biden may want 300,000,000 people vaccinated by July, it’s doubtful, given the environment we live in that that will happen. I’m guessing many more will not. As I was saying I had my two shots, my family members and close friends have not and from the conversations I’ve heard from them it is unlikely they will.

For Every Action

It’s all part of Newton’s three laws of motion. It’s the third law actually, and it’s something politicians seem to always forget.

The action by the Georgia State Legislator is a case in point. The governor, Brian Kemp signed the law apparently not realizing the consequences that it would have. The law, Georgia’s Election law is as much about restricting minority voting as anything we’ve seen since the bad old days of Jim Crow. Unfortunately, the US supreme court has given each state a long rope in defining what the 15th amendment actually guarantees when it comes to our right to vote. Each state therefore can enact statutes that seemingly protects its citizens from fraud and other criminal activities.

As a reaction to this action, Major League Baseball will not hold the All-Star game in Atlanta as promised, consequentially costing that city millions of dollars in potential economic relief. MLB blasted the action as voter suppression.

I had hoped that those days were behind us but apparently not. It is unconscionable that we still have these narrow-minded people representing it citizens. They fear voting for all because they fear losing their jobs and their positions of power and privilege.

One of many famous Twain quotes about the body politic is “To lodge all power in one party and keep it there is to insure bad government and the sure and gradual deterioration of the public morals.

  • Autobiographical dictation, 24 January 1906. Published in Autobiography of Mark
    Twain, Volume 1 (University of California Press, 2010)

That unfortunately is what has happened in Georgia. The Republican Party there, being the dominant party has ensured through this law the gradual deterioration of public morals.

I can only hope others will heed this as an immoral act and think twice about restricting the rights of minorities when it comes to going to the ballot box and voice their favorable or unfavorable opinion towards those wishing that precious vote.

Shot in the Dark

Two more mass shootings by two more individuals with demons in their heads and lots of guns ammo to show their message for all to see.

Once again we have the liberal left screaming for action, gun reform laws. Once again you have the NRA screaming that the democrats are hell bent to take away our guns and abolish the Second Amendment.

Once again I sit on the sidelines and wonder where is the compromise in this mess we’re in? Is there even a middle ground in this? I think there is but the extremists on both ends aren’t willing to listen because their agenda is right and there can be no compromise.

My thoughts have always been to enforce the existing gun laws already on the books, incarcerate those who commits these acts against our fellow citizens, which includes keeping guns and bullets out of their hands and put more money toward mental health awareness.

The second Amendment is only as good as the people allow it to be. So long as we have dysfunctional people out there, killing mass people for the pure pleasure of a sick thrill, and not do anything more than cry out for more gun control, then yes our amendment is in deep trouble. But that goes for all of our freedoms: speech, right to assemble, press and our privacy. Misuse or abuse any of those rights and we run the risk of losing them. Obviously, what occurred on January 6 is proof of what happens when a group of extremists abuse our rights.

As I Sit Here

As I sit here in front of this blank document slowly transforming into a story, a blog, a poem, a confession, I begin with a thought, an idea that might bare fruit or bear the weight of the world.

I sit here thinking of challenges, of character development, of themes that need explored and wonder how many others have been here before. Do they also hate the concept of a blank page staring back at them?

I sit here and contemplate plot, actions, hyperbole, and see what new philosophy might germinate from this narrative.

I’m a pantser who writes and writes until a story suddenly appears with a hero and a villain, along with their sidekicks and unknowing victims thrown into implausible situations they must try to get out of.

Eventually the story arcs into something more tangible and a reality sets in and the hero gets discouraged or defeated by the villain.

Finally the hero discovers an inner truth about himself, about life in general that was passed down to him from a wise man: his father or mother or her grandmother. The hero prevails and the villain is vanquished.

As I sit here, I am finished writing Barracuda: Final Chapter of Tequila Sunrise. I am satisfied for now. It is a bittersweet moment that I savor since now its in the hands of my editor and beta reader.

Writing For Fun

I’m editing the new book called Barracuda. It’s a sad and tragic tail that I will reveal to everyone once the editing is complete and my beta reader has had a chance to go over it more thoroughly. Suffice to say this project is more involved than my last efforts mostly because I am becoming more thoughtful and serious about my craft. I do intend that the rest of my works will go to my present publisher so I can get these titles in the marketplace.

Writing for fun is as I described in last week’s blog an effort in pure writing where I just write the story out regardless of errors or syntax mistakes. The real work is the part that tend to be not so fun because editing a story is an entirely different animal. In a sense, to use a metaphor, editing is like taming a wild beast.

Writing for the enjoyment of writing is creating that wild beast.

I’ve discovered through both the self-publishing and this process through an actual publisher that fine tuning into a piece that is as much a work of art than anything else, involves many sacrifices. There are darlings to kill off, whole pages that need revision, or outright deletion to make the story work. It is a process that many who write hate to go through because, well let’s face it, we hate admitting that we are wrong and think the story we wrote is infallible, when in fact, it’s far from it.

There are stories I’ve written that will not even make it to the publisher because they didn’t past muster with my beta reader or myself. Maybe after I’m dead and gone, someone will pick up that manuscript and do something with it. I the meantime, I will pursue my passion of writing for fun and later for money.

Writing From the Heart

My fellow readers I just finished watching a fascinating interview on “60 Minutes”
featuring writer, Colson Whitehead. It gave me an idea that I hope helps you understand my motivation for writing in general and developing the characters to my books I’ve published thus far and to continue down the road. So here it goes.

The main person on is the interviewer, John Dickerson, a white-haired reporter for CBS, Colson Whitehead, an African American writer, and his wife Julie Barer who sits next to Colson throughout the interview.

John Dickerson began by introducing Colson: The club of writers who have won the Pulitzer Prize twice for fiction is small. It contains just four members. The club of those awarded the prize for consecutive novels is even smaller. Colson Whitehead is its only member. He won last year for his novel, “The Nickel Boys,” about the Jim Crow south. In 2017, he won for “The Underground Railroad.” Through historical fiction, he has illuminated the past to tell us something about our present. But his work does not stay in one place. He has written about elevator inspectors, zombie hunters and the World Series of Poker. His next book is a heist novel. One of the other four members of the double-Pulitzer club, John Updike, said of Whitehead’s style: “His writing does what writing should do. It refreshes our sense of the world.”

I only wish that one day my book whatever it is is even considered as a Pulitzer nominee, but of that Dickerson continues by starting the interview with passages from his two books: “Can I ask you about your first lines? “Even in death the boys were in trouble.” “The first time Caesar approached Cora about running north, she said, ‘No.'” “It’s a new elevator, freshly pressed to the rails and it’s not built to fall this fast.” “I have a good poker face because I’m half dead inside.” Those first lines… they’re all crackling. Tell me about the process of the first line.”

Colson Whitehead: I’m very fond of them. And I think, you know, I’m doing the outline–

John Dickerson: For good reason.

Colson Whitehead: I’m doing the outline and– and lines are coming, and scenes are coming. And I think there’s a point where I do enough research, and I’m so excited to start writing because I’ve written this first sentence two months before, and I’m like, I gotta put this sentence in the file so I– I can start the book.”

Now I’m a certified pantser. I tend to avoid outlines and begin page one with what my main character tells me is in his or her heart.

I see where he’s coming from though. While I may not put out a formal outline per se, I do plot my stories in my head, which is quite advantageous in my day job as a janitor. My mind is constantly working and filling the void of tedious labor by enacting scenes, putting together plots and dialog that may or may not work out.

In my case and this is where I’m indebted to the Spokane Fiction Writers Club. The lines were never what created the book, but the action. In A Man’s Passion, what motivated me was a 60 Minutes segment featuring the Peace and Justice Museum in Montgomery Alabama back in 2016 when it opened. It started out as an idea of a young girl witnessing the lynching of an African American man. I wrote out the first draft and let my former editor read it aloud to the group’s meetup. She hadn’t read it before and didn’t know what she was getting into. Naturally, she hated the concept, the idea, and the premise, and promptly quit as my editor. It took five rewrites before I got it to a place I felt confident enough to submit it to Austin McCauley for their consideration.

Dickerson goes on a bit of a filler exercise by describing various aspects of Colson’s life, his library of fiction and non-fiction books and the process of his two books, then he asks: “Do you write for yourself or do you write for the audience?”

Colson Whitehead: “Really for me, which sounds very selfish. Should I have written a zombie novel? It made perfectly good sense for me. I grew up loving horror movies and then horror fiction. Is that something I should be doing as a literary writer? I don’t know. And there’s no handbook. You know? And it gives me great pleasure, if its exciting you know, our time on earth is pretty short. I should be doing what I—what I feel should be doing.”

We are both in complete agreement on this, as I believe 99 percent of all writers are. WE write for ourselves first. If for no other reason than the pure pleasure of seeing words materialize on a page from my own hand. In those first phases, it is a pure and selfish act of self-enjoyment. When the real work begins, deleting scenes that don’t fit, character development that needs refinement and overhauling an entire plot because it just doesn’t work out, is the frustrating part of writing that I believe is more geared toward the audience. Hattie, as well as Mark Marteau of my self published Four Seasons series, they are characters I developed around an idea that became the basis of a novella.

Finally, Dickerson asks: “There are a lot of aphorisms about writing, you know? “Write what you know. Write your heart.” Do you all agree on all of those aphorisms?

Colson Whitehead: We don’t talk about things on that kind of level.

Julie Barer: Yeah, I mean use one that Colson, says. “You can do anything if you’re– if you’re good enough.”

Colson Whitehead: You know the current debate’s over who can write about what, and writing across race and class and gender.  And it’s only when the – you know you screw it up that people get angry and I think rightfully so.

Julie Barer: But I hear people ask him sometimes at readings, you know, “Is it hard to write from the point of view of a woman?” And he’s like, “I’m a writer. That’s my job… is to write from…”

Colson Whitehead: Or “I’m a human being.”

Julie Barer: Right.

Colson Whitehead: You know.

John Dickerson: You’re saying, “I’m a human being, this is what I do as a human being.” But you’re also doing it as a writer, which has– it has this secondary benefit, which is that it works really well with your audiences.

Colson Whitehead: What was very heartening was the realization that if it’s true for me, it must be true for at least one other person. And so what I’m saying won’t come off as crazy. And if there’s one person, there’s a dozen. And then why not a thousand. And if I can find the right combination of words to express my inner truth, then other people can see it the same way. And so, I think we’re all in this together. And if– and if I can find the sentences and words arranged in the right way, where people can recognize that, then that’s, you know, I’ve done my job.

While it is true that one should write what they know; from the heart, it is also true to understand human nature enough to be able to write whatever they want from any point of view.

My characters are not me. I’m not a mixed raced woman, an elderly white woman and certainly not an FBI agent. They are though, characters in my two books.

While I don’t particularly know or understand the precise truth of man or woman I like to think that since I’m human and understand the frailties and vanities of the human soul I should be able to write from my heart what I know. Thus I feel I know my characters’ feelings and egos quite well.

I feel my writing style as well as those of most writers is based upon reaction more than action. My characters react to a given situation. That is the complexities of the human experience that lends itself credit for a realistic outcome.

And Another Thing

I’m reading the news, which of course many of my conservative friends call fake to inform me of the CPAC convention going on in Florida this weekend. Obviously, they are resurrecting Trumpism and bringing him off life support so he could help take back Congress in two years and of course win back the Presidency.

As I mentioned in last week’s blog, unless this Democratic Party does something drastically foolish, Mr. Trump doesn’t have a snow ball’s chance. Yet, here they are trying to push a radical left-wing agenda down most people’s throats. So, yes it’s very likely.

I finished my second rough draft of my final book of the Tequila Sunrise series. It’s called Barracuda, for the car Mark drove on his assignment as a bounty hunter in Mexico where I introduced Hector Gonzales into the equation. I hope I’m not giving too much away here, but the story line does go back to his bounty hunter days and a murder case he thought was solved but wasn’t.

I haven’t heard from Marketing at Austin McCauley last week to see how everything is going with A Man’s Passion. I have a Facebook page devoted to the project as well as what is available on my website. I know I need more, but advertising outside word of mouth can be costly.

Here is where I’m most upset with the Democrats. They want student loan forgiveness for up to $50,000. I have just finished paying off my student loan without forgiveness. As a matter of fact I went into forbearance and deferrals twice in the course of that history and paid out as much in interest as I did for the loan’s principle. If I could do it by making payments on piece of crap jobs that sometimes was barely above minimum wage, then doctors, lawyers and business executives making four or five times that should be able to pay off their loans too. Why punish us taxpayers for some people’s foolish spending habits and not be responsible for paying loans they went to college for?

I’m realizing my Democratic belief system has become more tarnished over the years but I still have no use for the pandering of the wealthy with ungodly tax cuts and destroying our environment with climate change deniers, second amendment extremists and polluters that seems what Republicans strived for every time I turn on the news.

There has to be a middle road somewhere.

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 …