Halloween is in two days, and frankly, I don’t care. Yes, that’s right. My heart isn’t in it this year. Anyone who knows me knows that for as long as I can remember, Halloween is my favorite holiday, or is that was? I don’t know myself. I suppose I will know years from now.
Let’s see. What’s changed. First, I now live in a fifty-five and up community. No one comes to the house for trick-or-treating. Only a few houses in my neighborhood decorate anything to do with the holiday. When they do, is a set of string lights and a pumpkin, which wasn’t carved into a jack-o’-lantern. How sad is that?
It’s true. I’ve been writing my ass off. But what does that mean? It means that I’ve been working on finishing Book 6 in the Consortium Series. I wrote at every opportunity and every weekend for two months. I got so into the story that I needed to find out how it ended. Therefore, writing my ass off to finish this book was very fulfilling.
Throughout this period, I kept thinking of you, my loyal readers. I wanted to update you on my progress. However, I got so involved with the story I figured you would forgive me.
But I know you want to see where this comment is leading. Yesterday, I finished the draft of the book, and now it is off to editing. Yeah!!!!
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about my recent experience with my advertisement for my Consortium series and suffering a Moderation by Amazon. With this article, I’d like to report on Moderation by Amazon, again; follow-up. ?♂️
Rinse and rewind
To those who might have missed my last post, I wrote about mother-effing Amazon moderating an advertisement I had run on their Kindle platform for years. And by moderation, they mean discontinuing distributing the advert. Suddenly, they discontinued running the ad, stating that it ‘does not comply with our current Creative Acceptance Policies.’
Their message went on to say,
‘Please ensure your ad does not contain erotica, pornography, or explicit sexual practices or preferences.’
Good morning readers and followers, I know you’re wondering what’s new in my writing. I can’t say I blame you. I’m always curious myself—odd when you think about it.
I reflected upon my progress in writing book six of the Consortium series with friends the other night. I won’t say much about the plot so far so as not to spoil the surprise when it gets published. But I mentioned that I’m about a third of the way done with writing it and said the following. “It’s funny. I still haven’t written a hot sex scene or any graphic violence yet.”
Sex and Violence
My friends were shocked. As in a chorus, they exclaimed. “What do you mean? Really? You haven’t?”
Up until that moment, I hadn’t thought it to be a problem. But then, based on their reaction, and they have all read my stories, I realized something. My readers and followers expect hot, graphic sex and violence.
Who am I to disappoint?
What did I do?
Well, I went back to the last chapter I had written and wrote a hot sex scene. That chapter was a perfect lead-in to such a scene, so I added it. It’s so long now that I may break it into two chapters during the editing phase. For now, it’s staying right where it is.
As for the graphic violence, don’t worry. That’s coming.
Writing is like sex. First, you do it for love, then you do it for your friends, and then you do it for money.
— Virginia Woolf, British Writer
Recently, I came across this quote beginning with “Writing is like sex.” Anyone who knows me knows I like sex. I also like to write. Two of my favorite activities all rolled up into one short sentence. So naturally, this quote caught my eye. Who am I to argue with Virginia Woolf?
But then I started thinking about the full context of the quote. I began breaking it down into three components.
Writing is like sex
Hmm, that’s an easy one. I already wrote about the combination above. Of course, there’s more to it.
For me, writing is like sex. When I am in the zone and know in my brain exactly what the scene I’m writing about is, I get that euphoric high that is akin to a good, satisfying orgasm. Most of you out there know what I mean by the high one gets from climaxing. Endorphins flood your bloodstream, and you feel as if you’re leaving your real-life behind. All you can sense is your partner and the euphoria they are giving you.
I have an additional incentive to continue writing. I am referring, of course, to my latest novel, Exposure. It’s doing well. In fact, some of you out there discovered its release and started reading it before I announced it. Across the board, my sales are up 37% since its release when comparing them to the average of the last quarter with January’s numbers.
So what is my incentive to write, you may ask? With success like that, how can I not write my stories? I’m encouraged and excited to add to my stories. That’s good news for you, my readers. Why, you may ask?
During Exposure’s writing and editing phase, I struggled with deciding to end Avril’s story in my latest book. I could have finished it. I had even mapped out a way to end it, leaving some unresolved questions and subplots.
At least one of my reviewers complained I hadn’t, vowing never to read my novels ever again. After discussing it with my editor and beta readers, I left it as is and move on to write the sixth book in the series. I might even write more. The Consortium Series is, after all, a serialized story.
Long story short, I’m excited to write more, especially now that I have an enticing incentive. I’ve already started working on it, writing copious notes and such.
And before I forget. Thank you to all my readers for making this a success story.
Good morning, my readers; I have good news on Exposure, the next book in the Consortium series.
That’s right. I have good news about Exposure, Consortium book 5. No doubt, there are lots of things in need of fixing, but I’m up for the challenge. No doubt, there are lots of things in need of fixing.
Why may you ask?
I don’t know what other writers, novelists, and authors do. For me, it’s more important to get the story written before diving into making everything grammatically correct, maintain continuity, and clean up unnecessary or superfluous writing.
That means, write…write…write.
As much as I enjoy the creative aspects of writing, it is strenuous. Not stressful, but demanding. If I write too fast, I might get lots of words down but is it a load of crap? Sometimes. If I take too long, spending a year or more on a book, I lose continuity and the flow of the action. Plus, you, my readers, are all over me begging me to finish it. It’s a delicate balance.
So, please forgive me. There’s one thing about me, if I start a project, I finish it. I’ve known people who decide to redecorate a room, strip the wallpaper, and touch up the holes and dings, and yet, never finish painting and putting everything back together. I’ve been to their houses, where the room remains unfinished for years. I’m not one of those. Make no bones about it. I finish what I start.
More Good News about Exposure
That said, I am proud to have finished the story, but it’s not done yet. By the time you read it, it will have gone through multiple people editing, questioning me about the story, rewriting several parts of the book. Then there’s the book cover design and production, formatting for ebook and paper, and a host of other details that I must do before it gets published. Finally, I have to adhere to the rules and procedures to get it published. I do a lot of this work, but not all. I depend upon editors, beta readers, and others to get it out.
Do you know what’s great? It is when I get that message from my distributor that it’s been accepted and is available for my readers to download and enjoy.
Soon, my friends and readers. Exposure is coming soon.
If you haven’t read the first four books, you can find them here..
Enjoy them and send me a note about what you think. I’m always interested in what my readers think of my stories.
It’s the 7th Inning Stretch, and I need it. What does that mean, you may ask? It’s a baseball term. It means to stop, rest and reset, and then finish the game. Fans and players take advantage of this tradition. It’s also a chance to hit the concession stands and buy a last round of beer and snacks—any way to make money. Yes, I’m being cynical, but that’s okay too. I’m allowed to have an opinion.
If you don’t follow baseball, that’s okay. I only follow it during the playoffs, although I’ll occasionally go to a game now and then. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve gone.
Why the 7th inning stretch?
Now, you may ask why I am bringing up this? It’s because I’ve been on a marathon of writing during my vacation. I had eight straight days to apply myself to book five of the Consortium Series. As I reported in my last post, I made excellent progress. I hoped to finish out the time with three more chapters. more “7th Inning Stretch”…
I was reviewing my headache log this morning. Yes, I maintain a headache log. Periodically, my doctors review it to help them decide on the next course of action. I can’t believe what the numbers show.
Back in February, my numbers were very manageable; ones and twos. Oh, and in case you don’t realize it, I’ve never seen a zero since suffering my concussion almost six years ago. Can you believe it?
Then, during the end of the first week of March, they started climbing. By the end of the second week, they climbed to really high numbers. I started seeing sevens and eights. They’ve been like that ever since. For seven weeks I suffered in ways that I am tired of, and I can’t stand it much. I get up in the morning doing the job that pays for my food and roof over my head, go home, and collapse on my sofa, overwhelmed by the conflict in my head. Sometimes, the levels dip into nine, just one point short of the worst ever. Occasionally, I’ve also felt nauseous with auras. Isn’t that a sign of a migraine?
Now, I know this sounds like I’m bitching. I know others have it worse off than I do. That doesn’t change the way I feel. I’m frustrated, tired, and angry. However, I will not get depressed over the situation. I won’t let that happen. I get up every day and face the world, determined that it will be a better day.
What’s worse, is that I can’t stimulate my creative juices to write. Sorry, folks, I have written little in the last couple of weeks. All I can do are the routine things at work and collapse when I get home. A few of my readers contacted me after my last blog entry, suggesting various things, including checking into out-of-town clinics specializing in my condition. I’ve looked into it. I’m intrigued.
To compensate for the battle going on in my head, I’ve done several things. One is I have a new neurologist. He’s on the younger side but supervised by an older neurologist I’ve been seeing for the last year for a second opinion. He’s got some new ideas and I’m on new medication.
But that’s not all. In my state, marijuana is only legal for medical purposes, although that is changing as I write this. Yes, I have my medical marijuana card prescribed by my doctor in case you wondered. I had a small supply left over from last year. It worked for a couple of months and then stopped being ineffective. I stopped using it.
One day, when I was really bad, I took it. Within hours, I felt a change. While it did not lower the value, I felt the marijuana encapsulated the pain behind an unbreakable shield. Think of a snow globe and the pain inside, moving about, trying to get out. Stuck behind a force field, I felt better, functioning at a level I hadn’t seen in a month.
Going back to the dispensary, I bought more. I can’t believe it, the weed is helping. I wish it would work more consistently, but alas, even my doctors tell me I am a special case. Fuck, don’t they realize patients hate to hear that? Still, I’m determined to fight, which brings me to the next thing I did.
I hate taking pills. They screw with the body’s chemistry, although I realize that in this case, it’s necessary. He also suggested a device that reminded me of something right out of Star Trek. If you’ve seen the movie Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Dr. McCoy uses a device on Chekov to repair a subdural hematoma. While I don’t have that condition, thank Gaia, I looked into it. After reviewing it with my Primary Care Physician (PCP), I tried it. It’s not covered by insurance, but at this stage, I don’t care. It’s got a sixty day unconditional return policy for full refund. What have I got to lose? I’m trying it.
It’s from a company called Cefaly and it is noninvasive and doesn’t screw with my body chemistry. It works a lot like a Tens Unit, it’s a self-contained unit without wires. You put a pad on your head and magnetically place the device on it. The sensations are exactly like a Tens Unit. Electrical impulses get injected into the flesh on my face and over the course of the treatment, move in easily recognizable patterns. Sometimes they go side to side, other times in circles, and, well, you get the idea. Treatments last between twenty to sixty minutes.
I’ve just started with it, and the results are mixed. They designed the Cefaly for migraines. My doctors tell me my headaches are not migraines, but my headache log of late tells a different story. What I can say is that it seems to help.
Progress Made, and still updating my headache log.
That’s where I stand right now. I’ve haven’t had the drive or energy to write, even with this blog. I hate resting for half of my waking day and then going to bed. All this sitting and lying down is driving me crazy and making my body ache. I force myself to do my best to take part in life, going to work, the grocery stores, and meeting friends. But there’s nothing creative going on. Until now.
For the past week, I’m at a three or four, which is manageable on the creative front. For one, I’m writing this blog entry. Wow, last weekend, writing one was the farthest from my mind. I am also trying to get back into Avril’s story and write more chapters. I know exactly what I want to do for the next few chapters. It’s getting my mind clear enough to write it down. I’m determined to live, laugh, fuck, smile, and be a part of the world around me.
I still need to get back to the ones and twos. I zero would be nice too! Knock on wood. I’m getting back to writing, adding another book to the Consortium Series.
This is Richard Verry recovering from a terrible month and a half, determined to find out what happens to Avril and her predicament. Talk to you soon. Have a great day and a better one tomorrow.
For the last three weeks, I’ve been writing up a storm. One thing you don’t know is that I am back from a vacation in the sun, mild warm temperatures, and dips in the pool. It sure is nice to get away from the brutal snow and frigid temperatures.
I wrote while enjoying the blue skies in my shorts and t-shirt. Writing up a storm, I got a lot done. I’m working in the third book in the Consortium Series. I only have a few more chapters to write to finish the draft. It’s time to build up to the exciting climax, and of course the hook to bring you back for the next installment.
I haven’t given book 3 a title yet, but it will come. Right now, I’m using the working title of ‘Consortia,’ but I very much doubt I will use that. Working diligently, writing up a storm, I hope to have it out by early summer.
Well, I had an unexpected day off from work due to weather, so I worked on my jigsaw puzzle.
The arctic vortex is sitting over much of the northern hemisphere dropped outdoor temperatures to well below 0 Fahrenheit (-20c) or worse with the wind chill twenty to -50-60f (-45c) in many areas, keeping me indoors today.
Over the holidays, my girlfriend/partner gave me a jigsaw puzzle as a gift. I don’t know whether to be ecstatic over the thoughtfulness of the gift or cringe by the vast time it’s taking to solve the jigsaw puzzle.
But first, let me backup.
Last fall, we went over to a friend’s house for dinner and conversation, catching up since we last saw each other. At that occasion, our friends had a jigsaw puzzle of their own they were working on. Interested, and with their permission, I found and placed a few pieces and thought nothing of it. more “Jigsaw Puzzle”…
Good day to you all, I’ve missed you. Writing during a holiday season is a challenge for sure. However, I can tell you that all of you, my readers, fans, friends and family alike, I think of you frequently day after day.
The ‘Perfect Prey’ first draft is done! Whoo Hoo! I’ve also completed reading it for continuity and fundamental grammar mistakes, etc. Now I’m on to preliminary editing before I turn it over to my editor for in-depth review and corrections.
It’s been a long and weary battle, trying to get this book from concept to reality. I released the first book in the series last summer. I hadn’t intended to write a sequel, but honestly, my readers overwhelmed me with the feedback I received from my readers and followers, asking for more.
Hello, my readers and fans of my books, I’m going to write about being a daydreamer night thinker. But first, I have to say this. I’ve been thinking about you a lot, knowing that I haven’t reached out to you lately. I’m sorry about that. I could tell you several reasons why but really, do you care? I doubt it. Besides still recovering from the holidays, dealing with my post-concussion syndrome (yes, it’s still an issue), and other things, I have been working hard on finishing up the sequel to ‘The Trafficking Consortium.’ I have maybe four or so chapters to write in the first draft.
Of course, you writers out there know that a book doesn’t stop there. The author must go through it many times cleaning up action sequences, dialog, inconsistencies, and basic grammar. Then, it’s off to an independent editor who will do it all again, shredding it and putting it back together. While that is going on, it’s getting your beta readers to read it and give you feedback. Once done, then it’s on to formatting the manuscript into something suitable for submission. It all takes time. Anyhoo, I’m working hard, and hopefully, I can finish the first draft this month. Knock on wood.
Daydreamer and a Night Thinker
My incredible girlfriend, patient as she is (not), supports my writing efforts and looks for ways to help me when she can. Over the years, she has heard the stories of how I wake up in the wee hours of the morning, dreaming up dialog and scenes to incorporate into my stories. She also is well aware of the imagery that flows through my head during the day, as I try them out on her or when they end up on my canvas or drawing pad.
She found and gifted me for Christmas a pillow that has the phrase, “I’m a daydreamer and a night thinker” on it. How appropriate.
This is precisely who I am. By day, I’m the mild manner daydreamer, dreaming up stories, scenarios, and images that I can incorporate into my writing and painting. At night, I’m a night thinker. In my half away, half-asleep state, I write dialog in my head, fitting it into the scenes I daydreamed about over the past.
The pillow sits on my bed after I make it in the morning, and when I am asleep, it sits next to me on the floor where I can see it when reflecting upon my storylines in the middle of the night.
Honey, I love the sentiment and the journey it took to come to me. Thank you.
While I’m in a thanking mood, thank you also to my beta readers, and my friends that encourage and otherwise support me.
Of course, while I was searching for an appropriate image, I discovered that this phrase is used quite commonly across the globe. Of course, in my little corner of the world, I had never come across it. Damn, now I have to be careful I don’t plagiarize someone. I hope I got it right. You’ll forgive me if didn’t. Right?
Of course, check out my companion site, maggicalexpressions.wordpress.com where I display my visual representations of my daydreaming night thinking turned into reality.
Recently, I saw the email signature of one of my co-workers that includes the following quote. She is a career librarian and knowing her; the quote suits her.
(Librarians) “are subversive. You think they’re just sitting there at the desk, all quiet and everything. They’re like plotting the revolution, man. I wouldn’t mess with them.” ~ Michael Moore, author/filmmaker.
When I first read the quote, all I could think of was rubbing my hands together in a nefarious way and grin an evil smile. However, the quote got me thinking. Perhaps, I should change my author signature. So, I went looking for one. I came up with several, but so far, the one I found that suits me, is:
“I don’t care if a reader hates one of my stories, just as long as they finish the book.”
That is exactly how I feel. I write my stories for fun. I don’t care if you love or hate them. I write for the joy of it, transferring images from my brain to the blank white screen of my writing program. If a reader doesn’t like the story, they are welcome to their viewpoint. I won’t deny them their right to their opinion.
At first, I deeply cared whenever I read a poor review of one of my books. All of them talked about the story itself, how it was not their cup of tea or some such thing. What they never wrote was that it was poorly written, filled with grammatical errors and the like.
I fretted over the reviews. That is until I realized that all of the reviewers read the entire book. They didn’t just abandon it halfway through. They chose to read it to the end. That tells me they liked the story enough to take it to its conclusion.
Over the past couple of years, I’ve taken a lot of grief about the subject matter of my stories. They are often gruesome and horrendous. I can’t tell you how many times people have asked me, “How do you think of the stuff you write about?” or “Is what you write about, something you did or wish you could do?”
How aberrant do you think I am? Okay, don’t answer that.
What is important is, these are just fictional stories. I get my inspiration from everyday life, and I let my imagination go wild. That’s exactly how my book ‘The Trafficking Consortium’ came to life. I sat in a doctor’s waiting room, watching people being checked in and asked myself “What would happen if that person behind the desk sent the patient’s file off to someone with no rights to have it?” Within minutes, the entire framework of the book appeared in my head. I spent the next six weeks writing the first draft. The rest is history.
Good afternoon all. It’s the Sunday before Labor Day here in the United States. For those who don’t know, Labor Day is a holiday celebrating the workers in America. It is always on the first Monday in September. It is also the unofficial end of the summer season.
Just yesterday, I noticed fall and Halloween decor in the stores. Damn, I commented to myself. My full-time job gives me little time to enjoy the summers. For the last month, I worked my ass off getting ready for next week. It’s not important as to why, but trust me, it was.
On July 31, I was sweating bullets thinking that I couldn’t get all my work done in time. I was distraught that there was just too much to do. Somehow, along with my co-workers, we pulled it off.
When my shift ended on Friday, I was content. What I needed to do had the big [ DONE ] stamp on it with big RED letters. Whew.
So, now, I’m enjoying the time off. I’ve slept in both days, and I plan on doing it again tomorrow. I met with friends on Friday night, had a couple of beers over good food and great conversation. Yesterday, I caught up at home, sweeping the floors, dusting, and well, all of that housekeeping that no one wants to do but we have to do anyway.
I also wrote a scene for my next book, and since I couldn’t stop there, and did some massive editing. By the end of the day, I had written and edited 6,800 words, in a scene that I absolutely love. Chatting about it with my girlfriend, she’s excited and can’t wait to read the final version of the book. I’m excited about this book, and I believe you will be too.
This morning, I wrote another 2,800 words in an initial draft of another scene. It’s unrefined and choppy, but it is just an initial draft. When incorporated into the book, I will flesh it out and use it to draw the reader into the character. Her name is Misty, and her life is about to take a sharp left turn. I’m smiling as I write this.
Later, I am meeting another pair of friends for dinner, which promises to be fun. Tomorrow, I plan on sleeping in again, shake off the hangover from tonight, and write some more. Then, there is my new website design. I like it, but I don’t like it enough. I’m debating about releasing it now and then updating it again, or work on the design more and release it later. I’m leaning towards the former, but we’ll see. My job and my writing are my focus at the moment.
I just asked my girlfriend what I should write about in this iteration of my blog. I hadn’t a clue. Why?
I’m spending the day in the warm sun, sitting on my porch, writing scenes and character bios for my next book. No, I’m not letting the cat out of the bag just yet. It’s too early in the process to tell you that. Who knows, it might never come to pass.
However, writing is what I’m doing, as well as catching up on email, social media, connecting with friends and, of course, day dreaming. I’m feeling better, and while my left over concussion headache is still with me, like a squatter who refuses eviction, I have my creative steam back. Ideas are appearing in my head, creating scene after scene that I want to capture, whether for this new book or another. It’s maddening sometimes, I can’t catch them any faster, so I lose them before I can write them down. Damn! I wish I could type at the speed of light.
Speaking of which my typing sucks at the moment. I think of a sentence I want to type, and after I type it, I find that several words are mistyped, often so badly that even the word processor doesn’t know what to do with them. Fsxk. See what I mean? Fuckk, oh fuck it already.
Here in the United States, we are having our unofficial last week of summer. For those that know our holidays, next week we celebrate the holiday known as labor day, a day set aside to honor the workers of the country. Workers who get things done, often at the behest of others. I count myself in their ranks, never reaching the heights of the one percenters.
Not that I care. For the most part, I liked my life, and I am enjoying my current life. The only way it could be better is that I get a movie deal from one of my books, and earn enough to buy that beach house, with an attached pool, and paint and write full-time, all while scanning the young bikini clad lovelies walking along the ocean and enjoying afternoon delights with my girlfriend before retiring to my hammock with a drink in my hand. Okay, that last sentence was wordy. Fuck it and go have another drink.
Yes, I missed writing to all of you over the weekend. However, while I apologize, I’m not sorry. I spent much of it writing, as in writing notes and dialogue for a new book.
The thing is, I now have three books in development, and I don’t know which one will make it to the publishers first. The first one is ‘Lucky Bitch,’ book 3 in the Mona Bendarova Adventures (MBA). Except for a couple of plot updates, and a definite timeline problem, I’ve almost finished rewriting the second draft of the book. The problem with this one is, I haven’t touched in a few months, as I wanted to finish up ‘The Trafficking Consortium’ (TC). That’s done now, and sales are exploding, so it’s time to move on.
The second book in development is a serial murder who-done-it mystery. I have written a rough outline, defined the characters, and written a few chapters. Well more like scenes and they are very rough. I had the idea during the final stages of TC, and I started writing notes for it over the past several months. I like the idea of completing the story, but I can’t do them all at once.
The third book is more of a jotting down notes, writing some scenes, and fleshing out the story line. I had not planned on writing this one, but my readers and followers are all asking for a follow-up to ‘The Trafficking Consortium.’ I did end the story with a bit of a hook in case I decided to write a sequel. I’ve got some ideas on how to take Avril’s story. Input from my fan base and readers of the story are welcome to throw me ideas. If you would like to contribute, send me your comments, and I’ll take them into account.
So, as it happened, for more than ten hours on Saturday, I wrote and wrote. Sunday I added a bit more, but nothing like Sat. My girlfriend wasn’t overly happy with spending the bulk of the day with my laptop in front of me. I did try though. I took the laptop with me to the porch, sitting alongside her while I wrote. She still complained to me later in the day and again on Sunday. What’s a guy gotta do? She wants me to write, get better at my craft, and earn what it will take to buy that house on the beach in the tropics. It’s a never-ending battle.
Maybe it’ll stop after I buy that beach house. I’m crossing my fingers.
I’ve been giving a lot of thought to writing and marketing my books. I’ll tell you; I much prefer writing over marketing. As an independent publisher, I have to split my valuable time between the two. It seems that at most times, the split is not even. Rather, the nod goes to marketing rather than writing.
Which is a curse in its own way. The best marketing tool is good inventory, though the definition of good, in this case, is broad. Spending much of my valuable time in marketing is, in some ways, an evil. A necessary evil, but an evil nonetheless.
For the average reader and customer of books, I know you don’t necessarily care about this topic, but believe me, it is the bane of most writers, even those that have made it in this competitive world. Regardless of how we market, we all do. Whether we do book signings at the behest of our publishers or spend a few minutes a day following up with our social media drills and the like, it takes time away from our real passions, writing the next great novel.
So, if there are any publishing house out there interested in exclusive rights, let’s talk. I’m open to ideas.
In the meantime, I’m going to drink another cup of coffee and muddle on. I have some ideas for my next novel. Have a great day and a better tomorrow.
Please accept my apologies for not writing for almost two weeks. These past days have been quite hectic as a result of my PCS (post concussion syndrome) and the release of my latest novel, ‘The Trafficking Consortium.’
Let me tell you; there is good news on both fronts.
First, let me tell you about my book. Avril’s story about being kidnapped and sold into the underworld of human trafficking is doing quite well. In the first two weeks, more readers than I can imagine are reading it, and I received my first review yesterday.
Five stars! Can you imagine? I am ecstatic. You can find the review on Amazon’s website. Click any of the book titles and it will bring you right to it.
The reader/reviewer, Bibs wrote:
Another Winner, Another Panty Melter
“You did it again Richard. I couldn’t put it down. A very fast paced read. If you have not read a book from this author, you’re missing out. Every book I read of Richard Verry’s has been excellent. Please pick one up today, and you will be hooked. Thank you, Richard!!”
Wow! What an endorsement.
Bibs has reviewed many of my books, but by far and large, I believe that this one is by far the best for my career as a writer. Personally, I agree with the reviewer, but then again, I’m biased. Thank you Bibs.
There is more good news regarding my PCS. Over the past two months, I’ve been miserable. I was suffering near unbearable pain, at times moaning and screaming in a poor effort to deal with my headaches. They reached new highs during that time, and if you have read my recent posts, you already know this. Last week, I hooked up with yet another new doctor, this time, a chiropractor. He did a full assessment on my issue, concentrating on my neck and skull. Using a CBCT (a type of 3D cat scanner), he found that my C1 and C4 vertebrae were out of position, and not just on one side but both. The doc reported that discovering both sides out of position is rare. My C1 (also called Axis) was both skewed and rotated out of whack, making the opening for my spinal column smaller, pinching nerves.
After getting my first adjustment to pop them back into the correct position, I felt better almost immediately. Within hours, my headache dropped to low levels. On my second adjustment appointment, he reported that both C1 and C4 were still in the correct position and no adjustment was necessary. I was both ecstatic and disappointed. The later because he denied me the opportunity to be adjusted again. How dumb is that? That’s what expectations can do. Yet, I was happy that his prior adjustment held. After all, the vertebrae had gotten used to being out of alignment and may very well want to get back to its old position. He tells me that this is very possible. On my third adjustment appointment, he needed to adjust me once more, which he took care immediately. The funny thing, over the past two days, I knew that I was out of adjustment, my headaches were growing worse and a bad fatigue had set in.
What really excites me is that someone finally found a physiological cause to my perpetual headaches. With the vertebrae out of alignment, they were pinching the nerves of the brainstem and spinal cord. The nerves have to transgress a very snug opening, so to have the vertebrae shrink their pathways even smaller, well, I could have been suffering from a host of issues. The brain, after all, controls the entire body.
I’m in good spirits and anxious to see whether this is the right treatment for me. If so, I can drop seeing the voluminous doctor and therapy appointments I attend each week. Better yet, I hope I can wean myself off the pills I’ve been taking to manage the pain. Wish me luck!
Well, that’s it for the time being. I look forward to today and tomorrow, getting back to writing and the like. Have fun.
That’s right, too much of a good thing is often too much.
If you love ice cream, eating a cone every so often is a savory treat that coats your tongue with exploding flavors as its cooling succulence slips down your throat. Even eating it once a day, in small portions, is manageable. Force fed it continuously, hour after hour, every day, well I know that I will soon hate the stuff.
That’s how I feel about some bloggers I follow. Many I eagerly look forward to, soaking in their insights on the world around them. I enjoy reading about their inner struggles and their ways in coping with life.
What I don’t like are posts done six to ten times a day, touting this or that, or promoting their wares. I want to support them. I really do. However, I am finding that I simply delete the unread post from my inbox. I am treating the posts as junk mail. Yes, I know it’s not fair. However, is it fair to be inundated with a dozen posts or more every day? Nope. Perhaps you feel the same way?
Just over a year ago, I was working with a publicist that wanted me to post something of 300 to 600 words at least daily, more if I could manage it. The idea was that the more I post, the more people would find me, and follow. At the time, I knew nothing. I trusted what I thought of as an expert. So, I tried. Six months later, we parted ways, but I still decided to follow the recommendations.
What did it get me? I started hating the idea of posting an article, especially daily articles. It took a lot of time away from my novels, stories, and painting. I also started to feel like it was too much ice cream.
Fortunately, I suffered a severe concussion last summer that I am still dealing with the aftereffects today. What it did for me in posting articles was first, a well-needed break. Then, I had a whole new topic to write about and share.
In the writings, I knew that I had to give you, my readers, something they wished to read. I did not want to fill them with fluff about marketing my books. I wanted to give you want you liked. I also had trouble with cognitive and creative thought, so I landed upon the idea of posting the ‘Word of the Day.’ Using M-W, I used them to add my personal two cents to their daily word.
Easy I thought. The trouble was, I was really getting into researching the word, finding images to support the word and then adding my two cents. Towards the end of last year, I was spending upwards of two hours a day, fascinated by the word, and digging deeper into it. As the holidays rolled around, I found that I was, once again, getting tired of the daily grind of blogging.
As you may have noticed, I have since cut down my posts to once or twice a week. I can manage that, I think. Since my cognitive and creative streams of thought are slowly returning, I am writing once again, focusing on the final tweaks to my new book, ‘The Trafficking Consortium.’ I’m even thinking about a sequel to the story, but that’s down the road.
Limiting my posts gives me the time to work on why you follow me. Many of you are looking forward to my next release, and have written me asking when, et.all. How cool is that? Anyway, with summer approaching, I must decide between blogging and writing. I think writing is going to win every time.
Just a quick note to everyone. Since my last post, I’ve been very busy, mostly with family and friends. However, I’m now back, at least in spirit. My body is straining to keep up with my desires. That is, writing and keeping up with my friends and followers, all the stuff that makes my life worthwhile.
That said, since my return to work yesterday, I am mentally drained. Yes, that’s right, I’ve been off since last Thursday afternoon. At my job, I am responsible for various applications that are widely used within my client base. After testing several weeks ago an upgrade to this platform, I figured updating it yesterday would be a no-brainer. Over and done with, easy. Right? How wrong I was.
Instead of taking a total of three hours to implement and then another three hours to test, two days later, I’m still working on it. I figure I will complete the project tomorrow but one thing I do know, I will be calling the vendor once again. Yep, before I left today, I discovered something wrong that needs to be fixed before I can put the ‘DONE’ stamp on the project.
Yes, I know you probably don’t care about my concerns at work. However, it is affecting my ability to write and chat with you, my followers. When I got home yesterday, I felt so drained that it took a couple of scotches, dinner, and time in the hot tub before I felt a bit more relaxed. Early to bed and I slept the entire night, right through to the morning alarm. Great, as normally I’m up once or twice a night, and not for a trip to the head.
So why did I feel unrested as I got ready for work? And now after my shift and I’m home, I feel almost as bad as yesterday. I am once again, mentally drained, which makes me feel physically wiped out. “Hey, where’s that glass of scotch?” Or should I open a bottle of wine? Either way, something smooth will soon be passing across my tongue to chill out.
What does this all mean to my writing? Well, as it so happens, I’ve done little, and I’m stressing over it. Yet, I’m so mentally drained, I can’t seem to pick up where I left off. Sorry, everyone. I’m working hard, and I appreciate your patience.
So, I’m off to find a bit of downtime. I appreciate all that every one of you has done for me. A new exciting book will soon be released, and I’ve got another nearly ready to turn over to the editors. With notes on several story lines in the works, I need to get going.
In my last article, I wrote about how I come up with my ideas for my books. I received several comments from people who read my books. I found them interesting.
The first comment comes from a reader who read my first book, ‘The Taste of Honey.’ At the time, this reader wrote me and, if I recall correctly, told me she had a hard time with the story. She considered herself to be a traditional, conservative person and didn’t read all that much. However, a friend turned her onto the book and while struggling with the storyline, discovered an underlying unexpected love story that she loved. It turned her around, and she eventually wrote a compelling five-star review.
The following is what I received in response to the article.
“I found it insightful as well as a confirmation of what I already felt in my heart was the way you find your inspirations. I’ve always believed you to be intelligent and extremely creative. It’s nice to see you finding the right outlet for that creativity (of which you do so well!).” jb
Apparently, she knows me well, and yes, I am acquainted with this person.
Another reader sent me this comment.
“It’s hard to understand how you can write that in such detail and emotion. And, not wonder about you. […] After reading your statements and seeing that your girlfriend felt the same way, I think I feel much better. Maybe, lol.” gd
I am only just becoming acquainted with this reader, having recently received several comments and messages regarding my ‘Her Client’ trilogy. After reading the first book, she contacted with a note indicating how much she liked it. After reading the second book, I received a second comment expressing the need “… to think about this one?” implying that the story might have been a bit over the top for her. [No surprise. This book is intentionally horrific and deals with the real monsters among us.] Her followup to this comment to this book inspired me to write my previous article. The last I heard, the reader was just starting the third book, ‘Her Essentia.’ I have little doubt that she will send me an additional note.
Interestingly enough, the ‘Her Client’ books are my best sellers. I never expected that to happen. As a result, those are the kinds of books I will continue to focus on as I write.
I received many comments on the article. I hope it helps you understand where I am coming from and where I am going. My stories don’t come from personal experiences. Rather, they come from observation and wondering, “what if …”.
That’s how my latest book, ‘The Trafficking Consortium’ came to life. I was at my doctor’s office and as I sat in the waiting room, wondered “what if someone behind the counter and sent the medical history of a patient to someone who had no right to the file?” From there, the pieces just fell into place, and Avril’s story came to life.
Then there’s ‘The Breakup’, a story about what a woman hopes will happen on a date of dinner and dancing. My ‘what if’ revolved around the word, dancing. “What was his definition of dancing?” Ginny is about to find out. The question is, will she be happy about it?
Overall, I don’t really know what to say. If you, my current and new followers, continue to read my books, what am I going to do but keep writing new ones that tickle your fancy and your emotions? I have notes on several ideas for future stories. Stay tuned.
Oh, and I almost forgot. I finally finished putting together my online art gallery. It’s called ‘maggicalExpressions.’ Links to it are on my book site.
Yes, that’s correct. I paint and draw when I need to disappear. Oh, yes, that’s what I do when I write. Well, it’s a different kind of medium, and I enjoy it. I hope you like them.
It’s a nice day today, blue sky, and lots of sun. I’m going to work on my book most of the day, and then I’m going to a party tonight. I can’t wait. It’s a themed party sponsored by a social club I belong to. It’s been way too long since I’ve attended one. I’m looking forward to it.
Yesterday, I received this intriguing comment from one of my readers. My life partner girlfriend also wants to know the answer to this question. She cringes at many of my stories. As many times as I try to satisfy her with a reply, sooner or later, she brings it up once again. I figure everyone of my readers is thinking the same thing. So I thought I would give it a stab and try to answer the question.
The reader asked the following question.
“Just finished the 2nd book. [‘Her Overseer,’ book 2 in the ‘Her Client’ trilogy] and I need time to think about this one? Guess my question is how do you think of these things in such detail? It was pretty gruesome. Are there things you write about that you’ve done or want to do? Just wondering.”
The book, ‘Her Overseer’ is gruesome. It is brutal and graphic. It is the second part of a three-part story within the ‘Her Client’ trilogy. There is a twist in book 3, ‘Her Essentia’ which I think readers will enjoy. My girlfriend cringed reading the first two books, but by hanging in there, she found redemption in the third book.
Frankly, I don’t know how I think up these scenes and describe them in such detail. They just appear in my head as I write them. To me, it is a natural progression of the story that seems obvious as I write.
I’ve been an avid reader all my life. From a young age, I’ve always been interested in mystery/suspense and true crime novels. Later I added science fiction to the list. The more fantastic the story, the more out there the characters behaved, the more I liked it. However, I’m not referring to fantasy stories such as depicted in today’s graphic novels and the like. I like realistic stories that are plausible and could happen in real life. Some of my favorite books from my early years included the true crimes of the FBI, which depicted the thoughts and reasonings of characters on both sides of the law.
My paintings and drawings reflect a naturalistic world. I love realism in my creative works. I don’t do abstract or fantastical creatures, such as depicted in much of today’s art. The one exception would be my love of mermaids.
But fantastic creatures that nature could not possibly develop on this planet through natural selection … no.
I also believe in monsters. Not the kind thought up by the creative minds of scary movie, no, I mean the human kind of monster. The kind that actually exists.
I write what I believe could naturally occur, here on earth, by humans. Nature is uncaring and brutal. Sharks and other predators don’t care about the feelings of their prey. They kill and eat what they want and move on. Orca whales have been observed playing with and tormenting their prey before killing them. From the lowliest of life on earth to the king of the jungle, this is how nature developed life on our planet.
All humans have this drive built into our DNA. Societal norms try to adjust us to not act upon our baser instincts but we all let it out, at some time or another. A husband beating his wife to belting a misbehaving child when a simple spank of the hand would do, are just two examples of human instincts struggling for release. I could list thousands of examples supporting my belief. Fortunately, most of us suppress this impulse as best as we can.
My stories delve into the realm of humans who drop their shields and let out their baser instincts. My monsters are real, and I have little doubt that the monsters depicted in the ‘Her Client’ trilogy, are real and they exist. They hide and stay out of the limelight, but they exist. In the real world, a rare few are discovered and make the news, but I believe that the known monsters are a small percentage of the total out there. No one can convince me otherwise. My scenes are gruesome and describe a realistic interpretation of the human monster hiding in all of us.
As to the reader’s follow-up question, no I don’t write about what I’ve done, nor what I want to do. Like 99.99999% of the population, I suppress my inner instincts in everyday life. However, I will grant you, that perhaps it is possible, that as I write, I allow a tiny fraction of my basic human suppressed instinct out, enabling me to write in such detail.
I’ve been told that writers write what they know. I don’t believe this. Look at Stephen King’s novels. Do you really think he did all that he wrote about? Do you think he thinks about really doing it? I doubt it. Do I wish I could actually do what I write about in my scenes? Definitely not. I’m a pacifist at heart. It’s all in my imagination, knowing full well that these monsters do exist.
On thing I discovered in my writing journey is that I like to write from the character’s point of view, rather than a third party, observers point of view. I like to write what the characters think and feel. At times I will bounce from the protagonist’s point of view to the antagonist’s point of view and back again. I find it interesting to reveal their thoughts and ideas. I like to expose their emotions of surprise, love, lust, anger, fear, rage, bloodthirst, relief and revenge as the scene develops.
In ‘The Taste of Honey,’ I wrote a scene where one of my main characters goes through an ordeal of her own choice. She is offered many opportunities to avoid the tribulation. Yet, she chose to go through the ordeal, knowing she would die in the end. All because she loves her family more than she loves herself.
I wrote the scene from her viewpoint. I tried to capture her every thought, fear, and desire she experiences. I tried to capture everything she endures, moment by moment, from her point of view. I attempted to convey all of her senses; taste, touch, sight, sound, and smell; as she lived and died throughout her ordeal. I believe I was successful and again, all from the characters point of view.
Just know that not all of my books are gruesome. My free short story, ‘A Mermaid’s Irresistible Curiosity’ is a love story with a twist. It’s not gruesome nor brutal. It’s a story about a misguided mermaid who lives a life of instant gratification who falls in love with a fisherman. You can find the short story on my website, RichardVerry.com. It free and you can download it and read it at any time.
I hope that this explains the question and alleviates any concerns about my writing. More importantly, I hope this explains things to the love of my life, my girlfriend, and committed partner in love and life.
Well, it looks like we’re having a breather from back-to-back storms. The sun is out. The sky is blue. Nice!
Which brings me to this question?
If you were affected by the storms this past week or just one of the storms, what did you do? Did you stay in, like I did? Were you considered essential and went to work? Even if you were not, did you go anyway? If you stayed home, what did you do? Did you read a good book, catch up on the laundry, or bake up a storm? Was it too cold to go out or were you eager to hit the slopes?
Really, I want to know. Please share with me. Send me a note, comment, or email. I’d love to read them and I promise to respond to as many as I can.
I will tell you, I was bored. I hate sitting around in front of a TV. Which is why, when I do, I tend to have a computer on my lap, or my smartphone in my hand. I was bored, no two ways about it.
So, I worked on small projects around the house that I’ve not been able to do since my concussion. Whoopee! It means, despite my constant headache, I’m functional to a degree. I have restrictions, to be sure, but I’m able to hang a picture on the wall, clean out the garage, or work on setting up my studio. Nice!
Now I’m ready to begin setting my studio in earnest. I have grand ideas on just how to do it, and when I’m done, it’ll be so cool. I can’t wait. I also worked hard on finishing up and making ready for publishing my new book, ‘The Trafficking Consortium.’ One day, I really need to stop trying to polish it. But every time I pick it up and review it, I tweak this line, this word, or this scene. I’ve got to stop. I promise. As soon as I finish this go around, I’m sending it off for publication.
So, in the meantime, I look forward to reading your replies, and commenting back when appropriate.
If you have been reading my last few articles, you know that a lot has happened in my town, county, and my state. Last week, we suffered a wind storm of sustained 80+ mph winds that lasted for hours. It started at around 2 pm and was still raging after I went to bed that night. It’s no surprise that I didn’t sleep that well that night. By the weekend, local law enforcement reported 6 people died as a result of the wind storm.
Now, just as we are recovering from that storm, yesterday, once again, two massive weather patterns decided that the north-eastern US was ready for another clash. Guess who is stuck in the middle? You got it, I am. That is my part of the state. While the northeaster ravaged the coastal states with blizzard and blizzard-like conditions, I don’t live in that area. I’m about 500 miles west of the coast, right where the northeaster storm decided to interact with the arctic storm coming down over Canada.
My local international airport closed, shutting down all flights into and out of my area. Officially, as of this moment, the airport has so far recorded 22.2 inches of snowfall, and it’s still coming down. Wind is a problem. The snow that is falling, is falling almost sideways. While there is a patch of ground next to my house where I can see the grass, in other area, the drifting snow is the real problem. Roads are still snow covered, despite the highway department doing an awesome job in plowing the highways. Even some of the large massive plows have slipped off the roadways and ended up overturned in ditches. It’s scary, and I’m staying put.
My girlfriend’s daughter is stuck in Hamburg Germany waiting for a break in the weather and return home. The news tells us that things should break around midnight, and by tomorrow, we should be able to get back to what constitutes normal for my region of the country. Yes, you get that right, it’s still snowing and they are estimating another foot of snow before it ends tonight. What progress made to keep the roads and driveways cleared last night must be repeated all over again.
The replacement hot tub cover that I bought after the windstorm now has more than three feet of snow on it. Thankfully, I was able to get a cover as I doubt the plywood and tarp I used temporarily would have survived the snow.
But you know what? I’m healthy. I’m strong. I’m warm and safe. There is a lot to be said for that. I know that there are thousands of homeless, hanging out in shelters and abandoned underground subway tunnels trying to keep warm in temperatures approaching 0 degrees F. I feel for them. There was a time, almost two decades ago, that I might have been one of them. Providence, luck and perseverance helped prevent that from happening, though I believe luck was the most significant portion of that. Thank you Lercher for being in the right place and the right time to pull my ass out of the fire.
In the meantime, I am working on cleaning up before publishing my latest book, ‘The Trafficking Consortium’ and getting back to writing anew. I’ve got my cup of hot coffee to warm me as I stare out the window, and see mostly white snow. Cheers.
Have a great day and a better tomorrow.
Oh, and have a cup of your favorite beverage on me.
Happiness, is it fleeting or can it be real and sustainable? Over the past week or so, I wrote a series of articles on happiness. When I started on the project, I wanted to refer to more generalities. Yet, as I started writing my first article I discovered that I could not write about happiness in general terms but as it referred to me. I didn’t know how else to say it.
Earlier in the week, someone wrote me, asking the question, “What is Love without Color?” Perhaps you received a similar question from this person. I answered back, “Color attracts but distorts, lack of color reveals one’s true self and is sustainable.” I could ask the same question regarding happiness.
“What is happiness without color?” What do you think?
Upon reflection, color, as it applies to love or happiness, could have many good answers. My answer was just one. I had given my answer much thought before I replied. Answers I could have sent were “Color reveals and attenuates love,” or “Color shouts love to the world to see and share.” Several other answers come to mind.
Substitute happiness for love, and I dare say, the answers remain the same or at least similar.
But my articles go deeper than that. I really believe in the difference between short-term and long-term happiness. I think that everyone needs and yearns for both. Single night encounters with someone that gets your rocks off is beautiful and delicious. However, it’s not the same as sharing years with someone who knows you inside and out and feeds your needs in bed and in everyday life.
A child is thrilled when he or she opens a present on his birthday or at a holiday. They squeal with joy in finding a treasure in the form of a doll or toy truck. It’s a short-term happiness for sure. Their real happiness, long and sustaining happiness comes from the love and care of their parents, mentor, caregiver or siblings. An adult does the same thing. Flipping a property for profit versus the years satisfying a desire or need to succeed in their chosen career as a building contractor are examples of short-term and long-term happiness.
“Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet.” Bob Marley
How astute is Bob’s quote. I think he captured some of what I feel in just nine words. To me, happiness come from enjoying life, participating in life, interacting with all life, and appreciating all life. If you haven’t guessed, when I use the word life, I refer not to just all people, but life in general. From the worm in the ground to the plants we walk on or appreciate from afar, to the pets and wildlife who enrich our lives, and to people around the world, who help us with our car registrations to the ones that we come home to, everyday. They all have something to enhance our individual lives. Acceptance is crucial or we can never be happy either in the short-term or the long-term.
Some people find happiness in loving others, caring for others, or abusing others. I don’t understand the last, but I accept that it is real. We all know that there are monsters out there. I even write about them in some of my novels. I just can’t relate to them.
I firmly believe in the concept of ‘doing whatever makes you happy.’ What I would like to wish for this world we live in is ‘Doing whatever makes you happy as long as it does not hurt or harm another.’
I dare say, there are some out there, perhaps even some who read this article, who won’t agree with my clarification.
So, I ask you. Do you feel the rain or do you just get wet? What do you think? Do you agree? Write me and let me know. I welcome your thoughts. In the meantime, I trust you’ll have a good day and a better tomorrow.
Last time I wrote about my short-term vs. long-term happiness. Another short-term happiness is coffee. I love coffee. Sixteen years ago when I rejoined the dating scene, I had my first cup of vanilla latte. While I liked coffee then, I fell in love with vanilla lattes. Today, exiting the dating scene with my long-term girlfriend, I drink several cups of coffee daily, laced with vanilla sugar-free creamer.
Which brings me to my second item in my long-term happiness list, alone time for painting, drawing, and writing. I drink coffee as I paint, draw, or write.
However, I am getting ahead of myself. Let’s back up, shall we?
As a child, I drew all sorts of spaceships and ground vehicles, making up stories as they developed. I also tended to write stories in my head that incorporated these doodles or were fresh and not related to them. I even wrote a couple down which were lost to the hands of time. As a young adult, I forgot about them and proceeded to be caught up in photography and girls. Girls turned out to be my main obsessive behaviors and I was awkward around them. It took a lot of trial and effort that lasted for decades, despite getting married and having a child in the meantime.
Sixteen years ago, I revisited my creative talents a couple of years after my marriage died and I lived alone. I loved it and I began drawing and painting in earnest. Living alone like that for all those years trained my adult mind to disappear into my creative world, feeling and living the lives of the characters I created. Later, branching out and revisiting my creative writing, I fell into the same pattern. In some ways, it was easier to disappear into my creative world as I could sit in a comfortable chair and write; all the while, my girlfriend watched her favorite shows on television.
I have to admit, I prefer my alone quiet time, apart from life and in my creative space (my office or my studio) in order to draw, write or paint. It’s important to me, no question about it, and being there makes me happy. I’m free to be myself, unbeholden to anyone or anything else. Feeling what my characters feel and experience, I can develop story lines that flow. I can feel the pain and joy, torment and pleasure that they feel. It hurts at times but I am able to leave a bit of me in my creations. As I have said before, my heart and soul is embedded in each work I create, be it visual or written. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
To be honest though, it is difficult at times to separate myself from the real world, where my girlfriend is such an important part, and spend time in my creative space where I immerse myself in my fictional realities. I can recall a numerous occasions when I had to stop and ask her to wait until I finished a particular section of the story. I didn’t want to lose track of the flow of the story, extricate myself from the pretend world in order so that I could interact with her on whatever she wanted to say. Sometimes she’d acquiesce and other times, she’d fume. I can’t say I blame her. I do the same to her.
Last November, consumed with writing my latest book, ‘The Trafficking Consortium’, she really became bothered at the time I spent writing the story and disappearing into this fictional world, even when I was sitting right next to her. I took every spare moment to write, moments that she had felt were hers. I agree. Most times they were but during November, nope. It was as if I had a barking dog scratching at the door to be let out and relieve itself. Just as you can’t tell a dog to wait, else it would piss on your carpet, I couldn’t tell the story to wait. Frankly, it hurt to keep it inside instead of being let out. So, every available moment was taken to write, and write, and write some more.
My girlfriend and I are still negotiating these rules of engagement, so that I can create undisturbed and uninterrupted with time I allocate to her. Since she is very important to me, I walk a delicate line between the two worlds. In the meantime, I keep at it. I thank the universe that lately, she is okay with me blocking out significant blocks of time to create. I wonder what she will think when she figures out that some of my best creative time is well after dark and can last into the wee hours of the morning. I don’t think it is a problem though as my body can’t take it anymore. For some reason, it insists upon a decent night’s sleep.
Thanks for reading. I hope you have a great day and a better tomorrow.
I don’t know about you, but I can tell you about me. First off, I group my happiness into two categories, short-term and long-term.
My latest bit of short-term happiness comes from my car. It is a 2017 Camaro 2LT/RS with a few other goodies to go with it. She wears a Hyper Blue Metallic dress over a hot leather interior. Yes, that’s her in the picture. Beautiful, isn’t she?
I named it Miss Molly after the song ‘Devil with a Blue Dress On’ covered by Mitch Ryder & the Detroit Wheels. With six on the floor and on-the-fly modifiable performance modes, she’s a dream to drive and lots of fun to ride.
BTW, I’ve named all my cars over the years with female names, the previous being ‘Alice,’ (nod to Elton John’s ‘All the Girls Love Alice’) a 2014 red Camaro built with similar accoutrements. Over the years, I have had or driven several Camaros and I first fell in love with the car when I bought my very first one. It was a 1974 antique white Camaro Type LT with all the trimmings, including a spoiler, and a dark saddle tan interior. I paid $5,204 for it brand new, right off the showroom floor. Too bad they still don’t go for that kind of money. Her name was Valerie and I’m not going to tell you why, though I bet you can guess why.
As for Miss Molly, I love sliding into her and giving her a ride.
However, I am most interested in writing about what makes me happy in the long-term. In no particular order, they are:
Alone time for painting, drawing, and writing.
Naked female bodies, or as I otherwise say, lover of the female form.
An extraordinary woman to share our combined interests.
Fortunately, I am at a stage in my life where I enjoy all three, which I suppose makes me elated and lucky. I feel that I am, but why do I always want more?
Let’s start with number two in the list. I first learned of my fascination with girls and their bodies back in seventh grade. That would make me about eleven at the time. It was completely unknown to me, but I now know that it was at this stage in my life where I started changing my attitudes towards girls. Of course, at that time, I didn’t understand it. A year later in eighth grade, our teacher arranged our classroom desks in a circle. A girl (Theresa), who sat across from me, would sit with her knees spread wide so that I could see right up under her dress and study the panties covering her privates. I was fascinated, yet young and very, very stupid. Thankfully, I never made a move back then. I think it was also the year that I discovered my father’s stash of nudie’s in the basement where my mother would never find them. From that moment on, I was hooked.
A year later, as a freshman in high-school, and still underage, I perused the magazine stands, trying to work up the courage to buy my first Playboy magazine. I stood there for over an hour before the proprietor of the place asked me “Well, are you going to buy something?” I chickened out and instead, bought my first book on how to sketch the human female body. This was just as good I thought and used it more to master the art of masturbation than to study and learn to draw them. Of course, by this time, I had been practicing masturbation for over two years, but now I had something in hand (forgive the pun) to refine the art. Even to this day, I frequently enjoy it. Perhaps that is why my urologist tells me that I have a perfect prostate. Does daily practice really make perfect in this case?
As the time inevitably drove on, I found myself hooked on studying a woman’s body. I amassed quite a collection of ‘girlie’ magazines, preferring the more tasteful ones over the increasing market of tasteless ones. With the advent of the internet and the freely accessible store of images, I eventually dropped all my subscriptions, which I presume many other men did as well, which in turn started the slide of the modern paper-based ‘girlie’ magazine.
My love of a woman’s body has never once wavered in the decades since. In fact, it’s only grown. No matter what the shape, style, or wrappings, I love them all. I have my favorites of course and I absolutely hate the basketballs that some women insert into their bodies. I like them real, natural, and responsive. I even started reading medical textbooks and other similar books meant to instruct rather than titillate. I learned a lot about the female body and how it works. Even to this day, I strive to learn more about them. I want to find out how they work, inside and out.
As a result, I discovered the mechanics involved with foreplay, the female orgasm, and the after care. Over the years, I practiced with various partners and when I wasn’t in a committed relationship, with several at a time. They taught and I learned. Each taught me more than any book learning could ever have, though I do feel that the books helped make for an easier experience in and out of bed.
Still, I find myself unsatiated. My fascination with a woman’s naked body grows exponentially. I want more and I want to continue studying and practicing the art. And, this is very important, I know with whom I want to share this fascination and experience the joys that come with exploring the human body.
That would be, of course, the love of my life, my girlfriend and life-partner. No, they’re not three different girls, they’re all the same girl, all wrapped up in one fabulous package. I don’t believe I can handle more than one at a time. Too exhausting as she would say. We’ve been together for thirteen years this coming May. I have learned a lot about how her mind and body works. Although … I know that I don’t know it all. I know I am missing much that I cannot learn by reading books, looking at porn, or studying medical manuals. I desire and intend to rectify that with lots of practice. Perhaps within the next thirteen years, I will become satisfied.
However, to tell you the truth, I hope I do not. I have always had an insatiable desire to learn and grow. I don’t know what I would do with myself if I lose that desire. I will always want to learn more about what makes her tick. It’s a real shame that I am growing older, and my body doesn’t work as it once did in my teens and early twenties. If only I knew then what I know now, how much more would I be able to learn? And oh, how I would practice. Afterall, doesn’t practice makes perfect?
Next time, I will expound upon my need for drawing, painting, and writing. Lastly, I will write about my need to share life and experiences with an extraordinary woman.
In the meantime, have a great day and a better tomorrow, perhaps in bed with your favorite partner(s).
I woke up to a lovely day today, a blue sky devoid of clouds. I haven’t seen a blue sky in weeks. However, it’s cold outside. A balmy 18F (-8C) with a strong, steady breeze encouraging me to stay inside, despite the fact that I had to go out to get the paper for my girlfriend. To bad it’s not delivered to my door but at the street. Oh well, stop bitching. Sitting in my office, staring out the windows as I write this, lifts my spirits and brightens my mood. I hope that the same goes for you.
There have been a lot of changes in my life since I last wrote to you. An extensive assessment of my post-concussion condition revealed that, except for a couple of areas, I am mostly better. I still have the headaches, delayed memory issues, and a couple of other things. The overall consensus is that I need to mix things up in my life. Get out, do things, and stop focusing on my headaches. Perhaps there is truth in that.
I’ve gone back to work. Whoo hoo! At least on a limited basis. Half-days, three times a week is a pretty good start getting my life back to normal. I started last Wednesday and finished the week up on Friday. Both days were significantly better than when I tried it last September. I’ve gone to the movies twice, gone out and met friends at restaurants and a bar & grill. Damn, I sure missed that last one. Hanging out, sharing food and beer with friends, acquaintances, and making new friends as people come by to see what the good cheer is all about.
From what I hear from those keeping the tally, sixty-three of us officially stopped by last night, and probably a few more as I saw people come in and not get acknowledged by the keeper of the clipboard. Due to the music, various monitors displaying various sports games from around the country, and the din of exuberant conversations, the place was loud. Thankfully, I came prepared with a pair of decent ear plugs.
All in all, it’s good to get out. My headaches stayed mostly in the 2-3 range the entire week, though right now, it’s a strong 4. I blame the gathering at the bar & grill for that though in all honesty, if this were a month ago, I believe I would have experienced a 6 or 7. That’s progress.
As I laid in bed just before I fell asleep last night, a potential scene for a novel popped into my head. Maybe, perhaps, it will make it to print in a future novel. I can only hope.
Lastly, as I mentioned last time, I was cleaning up my office in preparation to do some drawing. Well, that project is done, at least enough so that I can pull out my drawing tablets, pencils, gray eraser, and blending stubs and begin work. I’m going to take the weekend off from my office, right after I post this article, and start on Monday. Since my creative juices are at an all time low, I’ll start simply by using photographs as references. I do that from time to time though I often take it to a whole different direction than what I see in the photo.
The plan is, by drawing, that will open the creative stream in my head, and allow me to come up with a plot for a new book. Wish me luck.
Good Day Everyone. Looking at my site, I just realized that I haven’t posted in a week. I knew it had been a while, but I didn’t know that it was that long. Sorry about that.
To tell you the truth, I’ve been seeing a lot of doctors and going to Physical Therapy (PT) lately. I’m working on my post-concussion issues, and I have made some progress and learned a few things. The two biggest things that I learned are:
I’m still not ready to go back to work. (Shit!)
I’m dwelling too much on my headaches and other issues, and not enough on life.
Number 1 scared me until I learned about number 2. I must accept it and deal with it while living my life. I’m sure that my colleagues at work won’t be happy with number 1, but I’m not in control of that aspect of my life. ‘It is what it is.’ As I write this, David Bowie’s ‘Space Oddity’ is playing in the background and I just realized that I identify with many of the verses in the song.
To deal with number 2, I’ve been advised to change things up in my life. Change the venue so to speak. What does that mean? Well, for one thing, get out of the house more often. Now that the holidays are over, I can do that on my terms rather than on someone else’s terms.
My psychologist asked me an important question. “What are your go to items that make you happy?”
An easy answer for once, “Drawing and Painting, Writing, and Sharing intimate time with my girlfriend.” (I don’t necessarily mean sex, but that’s an important part.)
The problem is that all are suffering. I don’t yet have my painting studio setup which prevents me from putting paint to canvas. My injury stopped me from working on it for several months. I muddle through it at times, but I usually ran out of steam before getting far. I’m now motivated to get it done.
Then there is the writing. Without my creative stream running through my head, I am struggling to come up with a storyline. What I do know is that last October, I put pencil to paper and came up with several new compositions that I am very happy with. Drawing them put me in a headspace that made me happy and I forgot about my chronic headache. Checking my headache logs, I discovered that during those days and the following weeks, my headaches were relatively mild. And guess what? That’s when I had my inspiration for ‘The Trafficking Consortium.’ Writing it consumed me, and after looking at the logs, the headaches never surpassed a four on a scale of zero to ten. What do you know?
I can draw almost anywhere and yet; I prefer either my studio or my office. They represent my personal space and allow me to dive in without distractions. Until last night, my office was not configured to allow me to draw easily. It is now. 😉 Starting later today or tomorrow, I’ll finish a piece I started months ago and move on. Perhaps that will be the avenue to find inspiration for a new story. In fact, I’m betting on it.
That leaves the last of my goto’s, my girlfriend. Due to my injury and other issues, which I am not going to go into, our relationship has been strained. She is concerned about my condition and often frustrated that she can’t help. So, I was advised to change things up, do things differently and do it in new environments.
So, change the venue, right? Last night, the two of us went for a walk around my neighborhood. The first time since last fall. I usually do it alone. It was nice. Later today, we’re planning on doing a couple of errands together and then go to the movies. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a movie in a theater. I’m looking forward to it. We’ve also made plans to go out more, see friends in other venues, rather than have them come to our house. I’m also looking forward to playing cribbage or other games together which we’ve not done since last summer. Playing games at the table gets us away from the TV, and conversing in an intimate setting which is something I crave.
What does all this mean to you, my fans and followers of my blog and readers of my books? Despite what my marketer muse has told me, I’m going to stop forcing myself to write a daily blog. It is stressful to think of topics to write that you are interested in and it takes time away from life, my girlfriend, and my happy place. But don’t fret, I will write you at least weekly and maybe more as things settle down. Yes, it will be true that I will miss your interactions and responding to your comments. You can comment all you like. I will read, and I will write back.
In the meantime, just know that I love and appreciate all of you. Thank you for your support and reading my books. Be sure to look for my latest novel ‘The Trafficking Consortium,’ which I will be publishing on Amazon in early Feb.
I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the plot of my next novel. I find that once I am in the midst of the storyline, I feel fantastic. The writing is comfortable and natural. I can lose all track of time and my environment. Much to the despair of my loving girlfriend and partner, I’ve been known to ignore her while I am in the depths of typing out my latest scene. Sorry love.
I don’t know about you other writers out there, but when I am invested in a character, I tend to feel what they feel, be it pleasurable or not. I like it, and I get to imagine what it is like to experience their lives as they fulfill their destiny.
I need to revisit the realm of one of my characters. I have several great story lines I’d like to delve in one day. Just not today.
I don’t understand why not. I remember how excited I was when I wrote down those story outlines. In fact, I remember one day, writing down over a dozen plots that I could use in developing a new book. Yet, as I reviewed them over the past couple of weeks, none of them stood out and captured my interest. Of course, I wrote all of those notes pre-concussion.
My question to everyone out there, am I experiencing a writer’s block or did my brain injury affect me in ways that are changing me? I hadn’t thought so last month. I was in the depths of the glory of producing my last novel, ‘The Trafficking Consortium.’ My stream of creative thought, missing for many months after my brain injury, seemed to return with a big bang. Yet, today I wonder if it was just a fleeting spark. The stream, so much a part of my life, has regressed to a mere trickle, falling ever so slowly from a water faucet.
What do you think? Am I suffering a short-term writer’s block or am I suffering from the after effects of my brain injury? Can ‘Post-Concussion Syndrome’ be that devastating? Please leave me a reply by commenting in the field below. Unless otherwise requested, all replies will be publicly shared.
Thanks for reading this and sharing your thoughts. I do appreciate the valuable time you spend in my little corner of the world.
Until next time, this is Richard Verry, sitting at my desk, looking out the window at an unseasonably mild and overcast gray day, and anxious as to whether I will ever return to my normal self.
It’s Sunday morning, and for the first time in a very long time, I see blue sky above. They tell me that within the U.S.; my city has the second fewest blue skies throughout the year. Seattle being the first.
Speaking of Seattle, the Seahawks went down quickly to the Atlanta Falcons in the divisional round of the American Football playoffs yesterday. Damn, they were my girlfriends pick to appear in the Super Bowl. We also had hoped that the Houston Texans would topple the Patriots, but as expected, they didn’t. They did put up a great fight against the home team. I thought it was going to be a blow-out and it wasn’t, despite the final score. For once, though, officiating didn’t feel all that one-sided for a change. Others may have a different opinion, but that’s what I got out of the game.
I hate to say it, but I think that the teams that will play in the Super Bowl will be New England vs. Dallas. The two teams I hate the most. Hey, don’t kill me. That’s how I have always felt, and probably will for the rest of my life. And for you Boston fans, let me just say, I love your city, been there a few times. I just hate the team. Dallas, to me, the only good thing you got going are the cheerleaders. There, I said it. Just don’t shoot me. Green Bay Packers, can you do it today? Can you put down the Cowboys in this afternoon’s game? I’m rooting for you.
Of course, my home team hasn’t made the playoffs in seventeen years. What the f#$&? So, what does that tell you?
Enough about weather and sports. I’m sure that there are enough weather and sports outlets out there that can fill your hungry minds.
I’m pretty sure my book, ‘The Trafficking Consortium,’ is ready for publishing. I’m just waiting on a couple of responses from my beta readers who are reading an advance release copy (ARC) of the book. I’m excited and nervous to read their reviews. Damn, the wait is excruciating.
If you want your own ARC of ‘The Trafficking Consortium,’ click the free button where you can download it free. All I ask that you write a review and post it on my site. You can do that, right? Just click the envelope on my home page, RichardVerry.com. This is a limited time offer. The promotion will end once the book is published.
It does deal with a tough subject, although the story is not as horrific as the ‘Her Client’ trilogy. I wrote it intentionally that way. Sure, there’s sex and death in the book but so do most suspense dramas. It’s a first person view of someone caught up in the human trafficking trade and what happens throughout their captivity. While they hate their captivity, they grow as a person and start to see their life in a whole new way. Suitable for all readers 18+. I think you’ll like it.
Time to refill my coffee, so, thank you for reading this. Remember, if you want your free ARC copy of ‘The Trafficking Consortium,’ click the free button where you can download it free. All I ask that you write a review and post it on my site. This is a limited time offer. The promotion will end once the book is published. All I ask that you write a review and post it on my site. Just click the envelope on my home page, RichardVerry.com.
Hello everyone. I’m sitting at my desk, not knowing what to write about. Sure, there’s stuff bouncing around in my head right now, but is any of it worthy to tell you about? I doubt it. It’s 38 degrees (3C) and a bit breezy out there. Do you care? I doubt it. Even better since I don’t really care either.
I’m nearing the end of reading my new book The Trafficking Consortium as a simple reader. I had put it down for a couple of weeks and now I’m reading as a reader, not an author. Though it went through an editing process, I found a few minor edits I’d like to make. It’s a good thing I haven’t yet published it yet, though I have a couple of beta readers currently reading it for content and reviews. Yet, do you really care?
Even though it’s about noon right now, I am feeling fatigued. I had PT yesterday and next week will be a full week of doctors, therapists, and the like. I doubt I will get much writing done. Though I have a few story ideas I’m playing with, I haven’t gotten the vision of how the stories should play out, as I did with The Trafficking Consortium. How that story came to life is an interesting story in of itself. After months of missing my creative stream of thoughts running through my brain, that story just appeared one day in the front of my mind, demanding to be released. Three weeks later, the bulk of the story was done. I was consumed in writing it. I was consumed with finishing it. I spent hours each day, often at the expense of other needs and responsibilities. And I was loving it. I loved writing it and getting it out of my head. I was consumed and I allowed it, seeing how much I loved writing the story. What I need right now, is more of that. Perhaps my cognitive thinking assessment next week will help along those lines. All I know is that I need to write and with Avril’s story (the main character in The Trafficking Consortium) done, I am thrashing a bit. I’m not worried about losing my mojo. I know an idea will solidify enough to write a new story. I just want it now. Then again, do you care? Probably not but I would hope that you do.
I need to meet my muse and confident. She’s unavailable right now, having had to go out of town unexpectedly. Or, I just need to blank my mind and trust a good idea will appear. It should, it’s happened before.
I did have an interesting conversation with one of my twitter followers yesterday. It was enlightening. Plus, I had fun chatting with someone who opened the conversation with ‘keep up the good work.’ He wrote me to say that he enjoyed reading my stuff which is always good to hear and good for the ego. Maybe I’ll do more of that.
If you would like to follow my ramblings and such, my updates and my Word of the Day feature (something I would like to get back to soon), please subscribe to my blog by filling out the form below.
In the meantime, I hope you have a good day and a better tomorrow.
Good cold morning. When I woke up this morning, I discovered we had a light overnight snowfall, and it was a whopping 6 degrees F (-14C), Brrr…. Now, a couple of hours later it’s risen to 16F (-9C). No matter how you cut it, it is still cold.
After making a cup of coffee, I sat down at my desk to consider what I would do today. Struggle over Lucky Bitch or begin working on a new story. Of course, I could do a Word of the Day … Nah.
Since I still haven’t figured out whether to kill the Bloodline storyline or not, I guess that leaves me with a new story. Okay, day decided, what else is there to talk about? Well, there’s the Golden Globes from last night? Did your favorites win? Don’t ask me; I didn’t watch them, and I care little about them.
Oh, I am thinking about putting down the keyboard and picking up charcoal, pencil, and paper and do some sketching. I have some really good ideas on what to put to paper. I would like to finish setting up my studio, but I ran out of supplies to continue. I should go to the hardware store, but, baby, it’s cold outside. It’s supposed to warm up mid-week so that should be a good time.
It’s strange; I used to love winter. The cold and the snow. I’d be outside sledding, skating, and even doing a little skiing. I’ve camped on top of a mountain in a tent pitched right on the snow. It was a good time, but that night, I froze, despite a solar blanket, cold weather foam padding, a 20below sleeping bag, parka with hood, thermal gloves, and ski cap. I didn’t sleep much that night and seemed to need to pee every half-hour. When the next morning came around and I broke camp, I discovered that my body heat and transformed six inches of snow into ice. I was sleeping on a bed of ice! Damn. Come to think of it; I think that was my last time camping in winter and maybe the start of my disliking the cold. Of course, age may have something to do with it. Nonetheless, I got the garbage out to the curb this morning for my weekly pickup and shoveled the driveway.
Enough talk about the cold. I know others have it much worse than I do, so it’s stupid to talk about it. Man, I need to be in the tropics right now.
And with that, I’ll sign off, still undecided as to whether to write, draw, or for that matter, do nothing. Wouldn’t that be nice. Not in my nature but I can still fantasize. Oh, yeah! Lying on a black sand beach in Hawaii, with a drink in one hand and the love of my life at my side, holding my other hand. Heaven!
“All right. Lieutenant Howard, go see how the artillery wagons are managing, and on the way tell Major Mason that I need him again. Stay on the qui vive; you may find evidence of liquor.” — William T. Vollmann, The Dying Grass: A Novel of the Nez Perce War, 2015
“Pasadena Heritage staged its Colorado Street Bridge Party July 16, and Police Chief Phillip Sanchez was clearly on the qui vive at the entrance to the bridge.” — Patt Diroll, The Pasadena Star News, 24 July 2016
Did You Know?
When a sentinel guarding a French castle in days of yore cried, “Qui vive?,” your life depended upon your answer. The question the sentinel was asking was “Long live who?” The correct answer was usually something like “Long live the king!” Visitors not answering the question this way were regarded as suspect, and so to be “on the qui vive” meant to be on the alert or lookout, and qui vive came to mean “alert” or “lookout” soon afterward. Nowadays, the term is most often used in the phrase “on the qui vive,” meaning “on the lookout.”
Alright. Today’s word I want to say is stupid. It’s not, of course, but I’d like to think it. I know I will never use it. Yet, it does have a place in history. If I ever write a historical novel, then perhaps, I will use it.
From the examples, you will note contemporary uses of the word, and yet, I can’t seem to bring it about to use it. If I want to use a term to mean alert or lookout, I’ll use the words. Perhaps it is used in other parts of the world with more frequency. That’s okay too.
Thinking about the term, I came up with some scenarios that would be an appropriate usage of the term. For example, a city deploys additional security due to a terrorist alert, such as what recently occurred in Los Angeles California at the Universal Studios subway station. An event that is, unfortunately, all too common these days. I was also reminded of a woman on alert walking down a dark street or riding a crowded subway car. If the main character, Avril, in my new book were a bit more alert, perhaps she would have escaped her introduction to the despicable world of human trafficking. Be sure to look for this exciting new erotic thriller due out very soon.
In researching the word, I did find a field hockey club using the word as their team name. I also found a movie entitled ‘Qui Vive.’ I never heard of it of course, but what do I know. I found several pieces of artwork using the title, one of which I have included in this post as my twitter bonus picture. Finally, I did find a picture of a border collie. From its pose, it reminded me of my own collies our family bred growing up. When they alerted to something of interest, you knew the dog was on the qui vive.
Today’s bonus picture, available if you tweet from my page on Twitter is an image pertinent to the theme of the day. I hope you like it.
I love learning the different contexts of these words of the day. Do you? Please share your comments. I’m sure we would all like to read them.
Have a great day.
Brought to you by Merriam-Webster, Word of the Day.
I’ve sat here, at my desk, or messing around the house trying to decide on what to write today. It’s not the Word of the Day. I can do that. It’s the My Take section that takes so much time. And right now, time is a commodity that is very expensive.
So, I’m going to slow down on the Word of the Day for the rest of the holidays. I’ll publish them, but as time allows or an interesting word captures my interest.
Why am I in a quandary? I’m working hard to put to bed my latest novel ‘The Trafficking Consortium.’ Between getting ready for the holidays, which for me has already started, working with the editor to clean up my manuscript, cover design, website work, and all things related to indie publishing, it’s just a lot to deal with, and I hope you don’t mind the intermittent Words of the Day. It’s good to do, but the novel is so much more fun.
Till next time, this Richard Verry, getting back to work.
2 : to confuse, frustrate, or throw off thoroughly or completely
“Some consumers are so bamboozled by slick sales talk that they pay extra for amazingly bad deals. Just one example, a $49.99, four-year service plan on a DVD player that sells for $39.99.” — Mike McClintock, The Chicago Tribune, 13 Feb. 2009
“We agree with those who filed the suits challenging the wording of the ballot question. We believe it is deceitful—and deliberately so, designed to bamboozle voters into thinking they are voting on a minor issue that simply codifies existing law instead of adding five years to a judge’s term.” — The Philadelphia Daily News, 10 Oct. 2016
Did You Know?
In 1710, Irish author Jonathan Swift wrote an article on “the continual Corruption of our English Tongue” in which he complained of “the Choice of certain Words invented by some pretty Fellows.” Among the inventions Swift disliked were bamboozle, bubble(a dupe), put (a fool), and sham. (Perhaps he objected to the use of sham as a verb; he himself had used the adjective meaning “false” a couple of years previously.) What all these words appear to have in common is a connection to the underworld as jargon of criminals. Other than that, the origin of bamboozle remains a mystery, but the over-300-year-old word has clearly defied Swift’s assertion that “All new affected Modes of Speech . . . are the first perishing Parts in any Language.”
Well, there are no shortages of images to go with today’s word. So, I picked a few that I thought were appropriate and I hope you do too.
To me, though I don’t use the bamboozle too much, the meaning is obvious. Is it with you?
To deceive, dupe, hoodwink, confuse, frustrate or throw off completely. I probably could think of another pocketful of synonyms for the term, but I believe you get the message.
The image I found most enjoyable was the wall appliqué of a tree scene with dozens of birds sitting on the branches. Nice, but it was the dog staring at the wall, bamboozled by the birds beyond its reach. I can imagine how many hours the dog spent trying to catch one. I must be honest, when I first saw this image, I thought it was a cat, which works even better.
Another image I found most enjoyable was the cartoon of the honest government worker. In my opinion, it doesn’t matter what country you call home, the sentiment fits. Ain’t it a shame?
Today’s bonus picture, available if you tweet from my page on Twitter is an image pertinent to the theme of the day. I hope you like it.
I love learning the different contexts of these words of the day. Do you? Please share your comments. I’m sure we would all like to read them.
Have a great day.
Brought to you by Merriam-Webster, Word of the Day.
As the holidays fast approach, I find that it is becoming harder and harder to work with my editor and get my new book ready for publication. Demands upon our respective times are impacting on the ability to coordinate the effort. My editor suggests changes and while in most cases, I agree, getting them into the final draft does take time. I’m determined to ready it for publication by the end of the month, but I can’t say the same for those around me.
The good news is that I found the perfect cover photo for the book. I’ve learned a lot about cover design and formatting in this past year. With the tools and skills I have, I will be designing the book cover for this novel.
Now, all I have to do is format the final draft for publication, create the book cover itself, and publish it. Under normal circumstances, this should be easy for me.
What will I title the book? OMG, I need to settle on a title. Time to research again. After all, I want the book to show up on the first page of search engines. That’s harder than one might think. Wish me luck.
In the meantime, have a great day and a better tomorrow.
Happy Holidays everyone!
The speech was filled with so much twisted rhetoric that it was hard to identify any salient points.
“Among the projects: … an $18 million makeover of Freedom Hall, substantial new meeting and storage space, a new ballroom and a new $70 million exhibit hall…. Those were the salient recommendations of a new master plan for the Kentucky Exposition Center….” — Sheldon Shafer, The Courier-Journal (Louisville, KY), 28 Oct. 2016
Did You Know?
Salient first popped up in English in the 16th century as a term of heraldry meaning “rampant but leaning forward as if leaping.” By the mid-17th century, it had leaped into more general use in the senses of “moving by leaps or springs” or “spouting forth.” Those senses aren’t too much of a jump from the word’s parent, the Latin verb salire, which means “to leap.” Salire also occurs in the etymologies of some other English words, including somersault and sally, as well as Salientia, the name for an order of amphibians that includes frogs, toads, and other notable jumpers. Today, salient is usually used to describe things that are physically prominent (such as a salient nose) or that stand out figuratively (such as the salient features of a painting or the salient points in an argument).