OUTRAGE

When was that Selma Alabama memorial march thing?  Some day last week?  How fucking adorably ironic.  Martin Luther King is spinning in his grave.

I am through. I will never ever again proselytize about accepting people for their own self worth or recognize effort and ability without prejudice or distinction. This is the straw that broke my less than perfect back.


- BizPac Review http://ow.ly/K4prT




Hey.  Guess what?  If you didn't notice yet, I have no struggle at all having conversations with people who don't "look like me".   Doesn't that sound more like this prick has a personal problem instead of a RACIAL problem?  But then, there is that BLAME thing going on.

 This is the high school my daughter and I graduated from. When I was there, there was one black student. Her name was Faith Julian. She was Dr. Percy Julian's (google) daughter. They burned a cross on his lawn when he moved into Oak Park, Illinois. That town contains a larger concentration of sanctimonious dickheads than any  other city in the world. My dad was a cop there. I moved back when I got married. The mayor was corrupt. He was paying his extramarital sweetie over a million dollars a year as a computer consultant. I am getting ahead of myself.

Faith Julian was a sweet, friendly, unpretentious girl despite being ungodly wealthy. She would walk into one of the school's enormous, thronged girl's bathrooms and a hush would fall. I was a senior when she started there.  She was a year or two behind. As far as I recall I am the only person who ever spoke to her in a social situation at that time. But everyone knew it would be me. I would talk to anyone.

When I went to St. Mel's grammar school, there was one black girl. Her name was Hazel. Her parents were rich. We could tell by her coat. It was an Irish neighborhood where most of our coats had too short sleeves and were threadbare hand-me-downs.  Hers was tan with a brown velvet collar and a fucking matching hat.

We walked into Madigan's department store and my two and a half year old brother saw his first black person. I will never forget the look on his face. My mom had to explain his reaction to me.

I would  love to tell you the story about why all the parks in my subdivision  have been remodeled in the last ten years and there is no longer a basketball hoop to be found. (I now live way North of Oak Park. When I moved out fifteen years ago, my real estate taxes were over $8,000 for a forty two foot lot.)

On the stairwell at my high school there was a huge picture of some guy named McDaniel who founded the school. I said he was my great grandpa. Maybe he was. I hope that picture was taken down before thugs covered it with obscene graffiti.

Oh.  Here is another ironic aside.  In Baton Rouge, Louisiana, there is an old plantation that is kept as a historical site for tourists and stuff. It is called The McDaniel Plantation.

In college, I went to visit my then boyfriend in Spring Hill, Alabama.  The Airport was weathered in so we had to take a bus from New Orleans to Mobile.  I saw a drinking fountain that had a sign Colored Only.  Not a photo.  Not a reproduction.  A flaking, old, white enamel sign above a drinking fountain.

Why does not someone talk to this current school principal, who is principal for the same stupid reason Barack Obama is president, and mention casually, with maybe a sixteen pound sledge hammer, that he is promoting and fueling racial divisiveness?  Why are we so FUCKING scared to speak up? Why do we give stupid assholes like Al Sharpton air time and print inches?

I am through with tolerance. I sneer at it. It is all about me now. Me and MY affinity group.

Son of a BITCH. This is SOOO fucking outrageous. I cannot believe it happened. I cannot believe it was allowed. If I was a 99 pound sophomore and he barred me from MY auditorium in MY school, I would have kicked the mother fucker in the balls. Or do "they" not have any?

Unfollow me. I don't fucking care.

Actually, I only EVER pretended to care.


Photo attribution:   Idon'tgiveaflyingfuck.org.

REUNION

I am posting this gem just so I can tag it.

Ephemera

Actually, my blog is basically always ephemera if you go for the strict definition.

Anyone using the word ephemera in their blog for the next week will be subjected to my derision.

I told someone I would post this chapter for their consideration but it was some time ago, so it is probably useless at this time.  Feel free to skip it since you are already in the counter*.  It is the first chapter of Lawman, and I had to check if Select allowed it and they do.  Frankly, I like the last chapter better.  And I am tired of people saying my characters are promiscuous when they sleep with maybe two or three different people in their fictional life frames. And always for the best  and most non-casual reasons.

LAWMAN

by Virginia Llorca

Kindle Press Edition

9/1/2011

Chapter One

“Called on the carpet.  Monday morning.  Ruin the whole week for me why don’cha?  Probably getting the axe.  Hope it’s budget and I didn’t goof up.  Stop, Lily.  No point in wild conjecture.  Not wild.  Gotta be the axe.”  She tried to talk herself out of the worst case scenarios as she walked toward the States Attorney’s  office.

“Shoulda found my own job.  Stop it, Lily.  Not the end of the world.  You already survived that.  Chin up.  Paste on the smile.   Hi, Kelly!”  as she walked in.

“Hey, Lily!  How are ya doing?”

“Do I look as scared as I feel?”

“Wait til you see the crowd waiting on you!  Seriously, don’t worry.  It’s all good, hon.”

“Just have to tough my way through it.”

“And we all know that’s your strong point.  You’ll be fine, hon.   Lily’s here, sir,” she said to the intercom.

Lily had never seen so many people in Don’s office.  “Fire code violation,” she thought.  “Terminate me, I’ll retaliate!”. . .trying to buoy herself up.

“Lily, darlin’!  You brighten my day!”

“Whoa,” she thought, “aren’t we cooling the family stuff at work anymore?”

“Let me introduce you around, darling.  Lily, this is Max Davidson.  Midwest Regional Director for the FBI.  Mr. Davidson, Mrs. Scofeldt.”

“How do you do, Mr. Davidson.  I’m honored to meet you.”    (“Crap.  What did I do?  Regional Director?  Crap. . .”)  Two more FBI associates.  Someone from the governor’s office, the mayor’s office, and two ADA’s she already knew.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what this is all about, darling.”

(“Please stop calling me darling in front of the brass, Don!” she was screaming in her brain.)

“I can only imagine I’m being terminated.  And I’m hoping it’s budget related and not because of some horrible error I am blissfully unaware of.  But all the brass. . .   I mean. . . . Well. . . ”

“No, honey.  We have no intention of terminating your service.  We’re very pleased with your performance.  Especially liaising this difficult case.  Actually, Celeste was saying the boys are both going to be full day at school now, and we were thinking of asking you if you could come in the other two days.  Of course, we’ll still make sure you get home in time for the bus.”

“Oh, that would be so great, Don, er. . .  I mean, Mr. Solomon.  I was gonna ask about it.  Yeah.  Thanks.   I would like that.”

“Ahem. . .” coughed Mr. Davidson.

“Yes.  We’re getting sidetracked.   Down to the business at hand, Lily.  I’m afraid the subject we have to discuss may strike you as a bit more awkward  than being terminated.  You know how difficult it is to keep our personal lives out of the office, especially in this town.  And you know how serious this case is.  We just need to establish a few facts because we’re planning to hand down the indictment Wednesday a.m.”

“Yes, sir.  And I’m really glad we’ve finally reached that point.”

“We all are.  It’s been difficult.  Hon, there has been a kind of persistent undercurrent of gossip lately, and normally, giving it credence would only exacerbate the issues. But because of what’s at stake. . .” he paused to let Mr. Davidson jump in. 

“This is of a personal nature, and you are, of course, free to choose not to answer. We have to tell you though, that choice may affect our decisions.  We feel we must ask you at this time, Mrs. Scofeldt, if you did have or if you are having a personal relationship with Special Agent Raia.”

Lily was rocked back on her heels, but, of course, only figuratively, although it was apparent to everyone that she began to blush furiously and took a slightly deeper breath than usual.  Being taken completely unaware, and naturally tending toward being a bit outspoken, she blurted, unthinking, “Not yet!”  The sound of several chuckles being muffled was all that was heard for a few seconds too long.  “I mean, it seems. . .  I mean, I’ve heard. . .  I take this job very seriously, and I’m sure Special Agent Raia does also.  And, well, no.  I mean, I’ve never even had a personal conversation with him.  Well, wait, once he called me into his office for a conversation about an error, but I understand those instances have to be documented.”

The director spoke up to Don, chuckling, “That would be the now famous ‘tiny, arrogant, expletive deleted, small-town prom queen with attitude’ document?”

“I do believe that is the incident she is referring to,” Don laughed.   “And I believe since he insisted that be in her file, we will have to give her an opportunity to respond.”

“Perhaps in writing would be the best venue, although, if she insists, we could have a hearing,” the Director went on, with more than a hint of unprofessional sarcasm in his voice.

“I am confident enough in my standing on the issues he brought up that I don’t think it’s necessary for me to respond in any way.  And, since this isn’t vaudeville, I think we can stop the ‘schtick’ at my expense for now.”  Lily’s self assuredness quickly overcame the feeling that all this brass might be a little intimidating.

“Sorry, ADA Scofeldt,” said the Director, with an actual humble note in his tone.  “Sometimes we can act a little unprofessionally as we wind down these difficult cases. We’re probably all just a little too comfortable with one another after so long.”

“Okay, hon.  We can see clearly where you stand on this matter,” said Don.  “And we do seriously appreciate your candor.  We’ve already interviewed SA Raia, and we’re satisfied that we can go ahead with our plans.  SA Raia’s plans. . .  Well, probably not appropriate to comment on that in this venue.”  He rose from his desk and stood at Lily’s side as she shook everyone’s hand and walked to the door.  He put his arm around her shoulder so all would see she had his complete support, and he walked her past reception into the hall.  He figured they already knew he was her godfather and uncle, anyway.  And didn’t really care what they thought at this stage of his life. “Baby.  I’m so sorry to have put you through this, but you handled it beautifully.”

“Foot in mouth.”

“Nothing they weren’t already too aware of, babe.  And, honey, I don’t want to scare you, but this Tim, this Agent Raia?   I sat in on the interview, and he’s as straight arrow as they come. But we had to ask him some very direct questions, and Lily, as far as you are concerned, this is a bull in a pen, pawing at the ground.”

“Don.  Yikes.  I mean, Celeste already gave me the big sister talk and I can’t help but be aware of the tension in the room when he’s around.  But, yikes.  I mean.  I’m not disinterested, but you’re scaring me a little.”

“You’re ready for a little fun, babe.  Ben’s been gone two years now.  You know you’re ready to move on.  Just don’t make any hasty decisions.  Gotta get back.  Love you, darlin’.  You’ll be fine.”  And he didn’t care who saw him give her that affectionate smooch.  There were certain advantages in being the big gun in a small town.

***

“Well, the guy is a fox,” she was thinking.  "Tim?"  All she had ever heard was SA Raia.  “Timmy?  Cute.  Well, I’d give him a second glance for sure.  Guess I already have.  But, heck,  his job is over in this town on Wednesday.  And that starts my two weeks off.  Bobby starting first grade.  Really a way bigger deal than Agent Raia’s potential.  But, yeow.  Everyone can feel what’s going on when he’s in the same room I am.  Might be fun.  Well, we’ll see.  The ball is in his court.  Anyway, who knows where he even lives.  I’m not even gonna ask Celeste.  Any information goes out as quick as it comes in with her.  Last thing he needs to hear is me making inquiries.”

***

But Celeste was calling before Lily even got half way home.  “I heard you were interrogated by the big brass.”

“Not exactly interrogated, Celeste.  Everything is cool.”

“No.  It’s not cool, babe.  This is anything but cool.  How many months did you work together?  Four?  Five?  That’s a lot of foreplay.”

“Don’t be gross, Cece.”

“The weird thing is he’s actually asked a couple of people if you’ve said anything about him.  I don’t know if that’s adolescent or stalkerish.  Kinda creepy.”

“The last thing I read off this vibe is creepy.”

“What’s the first?”

“C’mon, Cece.  Give me a break here.  I’m practically a novice at this.”

“And he’s been divorced eight years!  Fireworks, Lily!  Even the Director made a remark about it.  Something about fireproof sheets when the two of you get together.  And he talks to Raia all the time.  Wow, love to be the fly on that wall.”

“That would border on sexual harassment if I heard it, I think.”

“Well, it would have to be Agent Raia to bring charges and who knows who started that conversation.  I just get the trickle down from Don. You know guys are utterly gross about that stuff.  But Don did emphasize the fact that the word was when you get together, not if. ”

 “Like I’m not going to have anything to say about it?  Too bad they don’t have something a little more professional to discuss. Anyway he’ll probably be on a plane Wednesday night.”

“No, baby.  Lots of people are laying money on this one.”

“Nice.  Small town mentality.  Nothing else to talk about.”

“You’re our star, honey.  You’re everyone’s darling.   But I kind of get the feeling your goose is cooked.”

“Speaking of cooking, gotta fix dinner, sweetie.  Let it rest.  Love you.”

***

The indictment went down without a hitch on Wednesday.  Senior Special Agent Raia and the Director, along with State’s Attorney Solomon, handled the press conference.  Lily was so far down on the totem pole she didn’t even have to hang around for that.  Of course her absence was noted.  “I wanted to give a special thank you to our newest ADA, Lily Scofeldt for the great job she did for us, but apparently she has already left.”

Someone spoke out, “We’re sure you’re going to be able to deliver that thank you personally, Tim.”

“I hope the mikes are off.  You guys really need to get a life.”

“Right now it’s your life we’re talking about, Raia.  And Lily’s. Don’t forget this entire town thinks she’s under its protection,” said Don, trying to sound a bit protective and fatherly, despite the huge smile on his face.

And Lily was driving home thinking Agent Raia might have at least made an effort to say good bye to her after all the hype.  But mostly she was thinking about Friday being the first day of school for Bobby.  Only a half day, but so exciting for him to go on the big kid’s bus.  Still, she admitted she felt a little let down.  And it turned out the whole weekend seemed kind of long.  Maybe being away from work for two whole weeks with the kids gone all day wasn’t such a good idea.  And weather unseasonably warm for this late in the summer was promised. Of course there were plenty of projects around the house that needed attention, especially the yard which was showing signs of neglect and needed an end of summer clean up.

~~~~~~~~~~~

End of chapter one.

*Speaking of counters--my blog site shows counters with three differing opinions.  They must be opinions since they so widely vary.  Well, maybe not widely.  It just goes to show me I shouldn't be concerned with them, right?

33 ways to stay creative

Good nudges:

(From Stumble Upon)

33 Ways to Stay Creative

Except. what if you aren't so creative in the first place?

Stealing

There was another big plagiarism brouhaha recently but it was all blog wise, so maybe some of you, the uninitiated, missed out on it. It was very blatant and the person tried to apologize in a bunch of euphemistic terms in such a way that she was not accepting blame.  Finally, weeks later I think it was, she threw in the towel and said, "Yeah.  I'm a thief."

I went through this when one of my grandaughters was in high school and she had to do a biographical poster for math class.  You didn't ask me, but it seems obvious we are in trouble here from the get go.  What kid that  can read doesn't do cut and paste for this type of project?  Well the teacher's biggest complaint was she did not source one of the photos which was scanned from a book.  I went to every body that had anything to do with it with the most amazing letter that I came across recently and still wonder at.  Its verbosity, its cunning use of language, its explicitness.  It left no room for argument, and it made such a huge impression on me that I never bothered to find out if he decided to cut Cas a little slack on the grade.  Similar incident when Fran was in high school, but different.  She got twenty percent for the research, twenty percent for the outline, twenty percent for the index cards, twenty percent for the rough draft and twenty percent for the final doc.  (Is that 100 yet?)  So she never handed in the final doc so the teacher gave her a zero.  It was agreed that the system of grading was indeed flawed but it was also agreed that Fran did indeed earn eighty percent of the grade.  That one I know was changed.  Didn't matter in the long run as is true of most of the causes around which I choose to rally.  She got a scholarship to Loyola based on her GED scores.

Anyway. . .

The thing is, and this is at least the third time this has happened,  I drop the husk on the floor when I leave which is all that is left of the seed of the idea that blossomed into some marvelous piece of editorial genius, and someone finds it and runs with it.  Only they don't even run in the right direction.  It isn't just stealing, well, let's be kind and let them call it inspiration, it is rubbing my nose in it.  Cuz I can say it better and it was my seed so get the hell off the farm. It's like that meme on Pinterest where they show you how to make the inside out cupcakes and then you post your photo of the outcome which is a hilarious mess and the caption reads, "Nailed it."  I swear, if I had any way of knowing if that person derived any satisfaction from finishing their pointless paragraphs, I would be even more pissed off.  Every time I see a movie or read a book and say, "Oh, I used that in my book"(months before) I want to weep except I am so far past being emotionally involved in this little hobby/career foible I call my writing.  And there is a screen play and some dick actress doing a shitty job of saying what my Jenny said or my Deanie said.  And they are sitting in the basement counting their nickles.  Oh irony of ironies.  

Well, I guess it is time for me to fall back on "I had my day in the sun" and just remove myself from the issues.  But no.  I am too nosy, too curious, too conceited to let it drop.  I shall drag it kicking and screaming with me to the grave.  Except, I forgot, I'm not going to do the grave thing.

More Art That I Am Getting Weird For

I had the biggest sales day ever.  I have NO idea how to keep the momentum going.  I thought it odd, that after giving away over 8,000 for free, people came in and paid money for it the next day.  But it is all good.  And a few cross sales which is how the Select thing is supposed to work in theory.  I have to get busy.  Too much going on. This all makes me very nervous.

Today

Isn't this nice?  Too bad it only lasts a few days.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005H3EW3Q

Bird cages

I really just wanted to see how this looked on my site.  Pretty nice, I'll say.

Sorry about the border drift. For the sake of art. It will correct next blog which may be any minute now.

Another Fabulous Freebie

I cannot say enough good things about Smashwords.  My book, THE MAZE,  is already in the Premium catalog.  The cover wouldn't take and I didn't like it anyway, so I did one in Powerpoint in about ten minutes and, though it is not my favorite, it is in keeping with several of the book's themes and doesn't look bad.  I wanted that little red head on there from the get go, but couldn't get her to fit.  She is a joyous me, someone I don't see too often.

A person was sorry they couldn't download cuz they had a Nook.  Anymore was in Select and will be for a few more weeks, so that is Amazon exclusive, a mixed bag, but  it will go on Smashwords too pretty soon.

Smashwords puts you in the Apple, Nook, Kobo, and all other devices format so you can even download to some off brand e reader you bought on vacation in Thailand.  I have always had my best sales from Barnes and Noble, so I hope this works out.  Hundreds have already been downloaded for free, and this book, which I love so much, I am doing the sequel, is in the cellar at Amazon.  So I hope y'all enjoy it.

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/158247

THE MAZE

The Maze will be free the rest of May on Smashwords.  They are pouting about a few things, so it's not in premium, but you can use most readers.  I'll have to find the link tomorrow, I am so tired,but since you are champing at the bit, do a name search.  It walks a narrow line. It is the least read so far, but that is inexplicable since it's so much fun. 

I Call Bull Shit

Making over a turn of phrase that, when analysed, is in fact  contradiction at best and a mixed metaphor at the least and saying it is such good poetic language.  Fuck that.  I may write like a third grader, but I am not pretentious about it at all.  And a couple of grown ups have said I don't write like a third grader.  I think this bull shit phrase turning is not the same as telling a story.  And that is what I do.  I tell stories about people.  Things happen, but I don't tell stories about things that happen.  I tell stories about the people the things happen to.  Because that is the way life  struck me.  I am a person that things happened to,and they keep on happening. Like rain from hell.   And that is what I am made of, the way I handled the things that happened and what those things did to me.  The person. If you never before in your life saw me, and you struck up a conversation with me, you would take me at face value.  You wouldn't know how I retaliate, how I hurt, how I inflict pain, how I have handled pain.  So if I told you the things that happened to me, you would have to relate that to the person you are talking to.  And I would have to tell you a story. And  I would fucking weep.

Mixed feelings

This is the plan. I am going to rotate the four books through Select and rewrite each one, heavily editing the sex out of the first, at several people's suggestions, and doing new covers at least for the third. I feel like I am done being a writer. I wanted to do the four and they are done. And they pretty much are tanking. I average a sale a day. I realize that is sixty times better than no sales for months at a time, but the word of mouth thing is not working for me. I blame my personality and lifestyle for that.

But I'd like to say a few things about the "business" end of this business. I get lots of email and even phone calls that they want to tell me about this publishing deal and that. Okay. Leave me alone. I'm published. Unless you have some promo ideas, I have nothing to say to you and I don't want to listen to you. Word of mouth is the ONLY thing missing from my equation and you cannot sell me a program for that. Don't ask me to send you copies of my work. It is all out there in many different forms or places. If you can't do anything else, you can name search for me. As far as I know there is one other Virginia Llorca and she is a 23 year old girl in North Carolina.

Thanks to everyone who read my stories and double triple thanks to those who said nice things about them, and think about the Karma, especially you family members who pretend it doesn't exist or it's a whim. Read any Lora Leigh and then get back to me about MY work.

The only thing that is bothering me now is that I am toying with ideas. It is just because I am bored and am so very unused to dealing with a sense of relief. I'm trying to talk myself out of it.

Today's CTA: Do you get angry with yourself when you break promises to yourself or do you just shake it off? What do you learn from the experience? Share.