WHAT'S UP WEDNESDAY'S

Hello Readers.

In an effort to add a little something different to the usual Vision & Verse fare, I'm going to introduce "What's Up Wednesdays"..  On designated Wednesdays each month you'll find a number of random posts dealing with a variety of art related subjects...things from gallery exhibits, design & architecture, quotes, sayings, art news & art trivia...just a hodge-podge of fun stuff that I hope you all will enjoy.  So watch for upcoming announcements for "What's Up Wednesdays".

And please, keep your comments coming, we greatly appreciate them and want to know what you think of what we do here.

Peace,
Parker Kagan-Kaufman

Waiting for Richard

Excerpt from Waiting for Richard:

Down at the police station, Skye settled in with books of mug shots, looking for the man from the parking garage, the short, scruffy, longish-haired, messy, blonde guy with the large nose and the bad complexion.  She looked at page after page, book after book of mug shots.

“No, not in here.”

“Would you like to talk with the precinct artist?” asked Detective Samson.

“No, not really.  I’m all criminaled out right now.  I’d like to go home and call Rita’s brother and then go get her things together to take back to the hospital.  We have each other’s spare key.”

“Okay.  Maybe later.  Officer Metz will take you home.”

“Thank you.” 

Later Skye drove passed Rita’s house, first just to look around.  Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, the second time she pulled in and parked in the driveway.  She went into Rita’s bedroom and gathered her robe and slippers, and a few nightgowns hanging in the closet.  Then she made her way to the chest freezer in the basement.  The plastic cream puff container was right there on the top.  Skye took the container and put it in the plastic bag she brought down with her, and went back upstairs.  Using Rita’s address book by the phone, she called her brother Ron.  No answer.  She hung up on the answer phone message.  It’s very impolite to tell someone his sister’s in the hospital with a gunshot wound to the head and in a coma by leaving a message.  This kind of thing needs to be done correctly, slowly, with compassion and a little finesse.  First, there’s the ‘hi, how are you’ part.  Then, the ‘Ron, I need to tell you something’ part, followed by the ‘Rita and I went out to dinner last night and she thought she was being followed’ part.  And finally, there’s the ‘Rita’s in the hospital, someone shot her, how fast can you get here’ part.  One just couldn’t leave all that in a message.  Skye sighed and called Ron back.

“Ron, this is Skye McKenna, Rita’s friend from work, remember me?  Um, Ron, we need to talk.  It’s about Rita and it’s really important.  Can you call me back on my cell phone 263-7544-1066?  Thank you, Ron.  Talk to you soon.”

She gathered Rita’s things and the plastic bag with the cream puffs together and went home.  She folded Rita’s things neatly and put them in a tote bag.  Then she sat down at the kitchen table and opened the cream puff container, about a dozen small cream puffs and an envelope inside.  Skye pulled the letter out of the envelope and smoothed it out.

‘Dear Rita,

Her cell phone rang.  Might be Ron.  She jammed the letter in her pocket and answered the phone.

“Hello”

“Skye! Good morning!  How are you today?”  It was Randy Ribretti, her old boss from the insurance agency.  “I have a question.”

“Good morning, Randy.  What’s up?”

“Skye, Rita didn’t come in to work today and there’s no answer when I call her house.  I’m swamped here.  Can you come in and help me out?  I know you’re retired and are happily writing children’s books now, but I really need you.  How soon can you get here?”

“Randy, Rita’s in the hospital.  She’s been shot.”

“What!  Oh, no!  What happened?”

“We don’t know.  I tried to reach her brother Ron to tell him, but he’s not home.  Randy, I can’t help you today.  I’m on my way to the hospital to see Rita.  But I’ll come in tomorrow and help you out.  Now I have to go.”

“Of course, Skye, of course.  What can I do to help?”

“Don’t know yet.  But I’ll talk to you tomorrow.  Bye, Randy.”

“Thank you, Skye.  Goodbye.”

Now, back to the letter.

‘Dear Rita,

       Hide this key.’


She shook the envelope and out fell an odd-shaped silver-tone key, unlabeled.

‘I borrowed some money from work to go gambling.  I planned to replace it the next morning, just like I always do.  Except, this time, I lost.  And I lost big. 

So I took a quick side job as a courier, easy money for some shady deliveries.  I saw a chance to payback the Weller Corporation and not get fired and arrested.  So I did.  But now I’m in a mess.  And I‘m pretty sure I’m being watched.  Keep this safe.  It’s my only way out.

Ron’

Out of what?  Well, Rita said she thought her kid brother was in trouble.  She wasn’t kidding.  And what would this key unlock?  Ron gave no clues.  Just hide this key.  Skye went to her jewelry box and retrieved a long chain.  She threaded the key on the chain and fastened it around her neck and hid the chain under her blouse. 

“It’s very safe in there,” she said.  “Nobody’s been fondling these breasts for a very long time.”  She popped a cream puff in her mouth, put three in a small plastic bag to bring to Rita, returning the rest to the freezer.  She picked up today’s newspaper, gathered her things, and went to the hospital.  Skye got to the hospital and went in to see Rita.  She was lying there, looking pale and lifeless.

“Rita?  Hey, Ri, it’s me.  I did as you asked about the cream puffs.  I brought you a few.  I’m sitting them right here so when you open your eyes again, you’ll see them and know that I heard you and took care of the matter.  I have a call in to Ron, but as yet he hasn’t called me back.  I don’t want you to worry.  I’m sure your kid brother is okay.  All I want you to do is concentrate on getting better, okay?  And don’t worry about getting behind at work.  I’m going in for you tomorrow morning and I’ll handle everything.  I talked to Randy, so he knows.  He’s concerned and supportive, as always.  You know Randy, a hell of a great guy for an insurance salesman.

Now, I brought today’s newspaper and I’m going to read to you.  I’m going to read to you until I get hoarse or you get so damn sick of hearing my voice that you come out of that coma and yell  ‘Shut the hell up!' Okay? Okay.”  She began reading the paper.

Waiting for Richard  by Carol Ann Kauffman is available on Amazon.com in kindle format.

LORD OF BLAKELEY

LORD OF BLAKELEY

Time After Time

Carol Ann Kauffman, Author

Parker Kaufman, Cover Artist

Synopsis:

LORD OF BLAKELEY is the story of Andrew, a simple farm boy who rises to be the most powerful man on the planet.  He marries a lovely princess, incurring the wrath of a jealous, devious man. 

It is the story of Princess Aleese, who is expected to marry the son of her guardian, but instead sets out to find the man of her dreams, this soulmate, this one true love of yours, and ends up in farm country.

It is the story of a sister and brother whose home world was embroiled in a catastrophic civil war, and were sent away for their own safety and protection.

It’s the story of time travel and mobile transport devices.  It’s about the legal system in Chicago, rock planets, and blue magic.

It is, in typical Time After Time fashion, the story of love.

Excerpt:

Chapter One  

Stolen in the Night

Location:  Blakeley Province, Planet of Nord, Year 2075

“I’m going in to get her,” he said calmly and quietly.

    “No, Lord Andrew, it’s too dangerous.  They’ll kill you, and not right away.  If that bastard Samuel Bishop and his men find you before you find her and get back here, you know what they will do to you.  You need to re-think this course of action.  At least let’s wait until morning.  Then Carmine will take a team and go in and get her.  You need to stay here.  We need you.  You shouldn’t go.  And you definitely shouldn’t go alone,” Jared warned.

“No.  I’m going in after her.  Now.  Her safety always comes first with me, you know that.  I’ll be able to find her, Jared. I know I will.  And rescuing MY woman is MY job.  Unlock the transport dock and have a security team stand ready.  What were the last signals?”

“Three in, four out.”

“Damn it!” he said holding his head.  “How did they manage to get in here with the aperture closed?   And nobody saw or heard anything?”

“Well, Ruth said Lady Aleese was called out to help a baby burning up with fever.  You were asleep.  She didn’t want to wake you.”  He shook his head in dismay.  Yes, Aleese would go running out to help.  And no, she wouldn’t want to wake him.

“Once this link is opened, who knows what evil may come rushing through that eye.  Security team in place, now.  I’ll be leaving as soon as possible.”

Jared left to ready the transport dock and alert a security team.  He was pushing buttons and flipping switches.

“Carmine, we need a security team to the transport room right now.  He’s going in after her.  I couldn’t talk him out of it.”

“We’re on our way, Jared.  We knew he’d go.”

Within minutes, Andrew, Lord of Blakely strode calmly and confidently into the transport room, followed by a security team taking aim at the aperture.  Andrew stood inside the transport dock.

“I’ll be back within the hour with Aleese.  Stun anyone or anything else comes through this aperture, full stun, and lock them up until I return.  I will deal with them personally.  Tell no one I have gone,” said Andrew.

“Weapons on maximum stun,” Carmine ordered his team.

“I understand,” said Jared.  “When the Lord of Blakeley goes tearing off alone in the middle of the night on a doomed, dangerous, foolhardy mission to rescue his Lady who has been stolen in the night, it promotes fear and panic among their loyal subjects who love both dearly.  This is a sad day for Blakeley, Lord Andrew.  We could lose the both of you tonight.”

“Enough.  Bishop is an animal.  She’s terrified of him.  I have to go right now.”

“It’s a trap.  You know it’s a trap.  Bishop is using her as bait.  They came sneaking in here and stole her away in the middle of the night just to piss you off!”

“Oh!  It worked.  And I’m going in.  But it’s not me he wants, Jared.  He wants her.  And now… he’s got her.  But not for long.”

“Okay,” sighed Jared. “Good luck.  Be careful.  Go get her and bring her home.  Godspeed.”

“Thank you.  Open.”

                               Hold on, My Sweet Aleese.  I’m coming to get you. 

Jared opened the aperture and Andrew ran into it.  The very next moment a shadowy form shrouded in a grey monk’s robe came rushing out.

“Fire!” ordered Carmine.  All weapons fired at the shadowy figure as it fell silently to the ground, gyrating from the multitude of stungun blasts.

“Oh, damn it!  It’s Lady Aleese.  Jared, can you call him back?”

To Those Who Plow - Thank You!

Dear Gentle Readers,

    Please be nice to the man in the big truck plowing the snow off the roads. In the winter his pager goes off at two or three in the morning, waking up his whole family. He has not been home with his family on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day in years. He hasn't 't had Thanksgiving Dinner with his loved ones, either, although we do save him leftovers. He is out making the roadways safe for you. I know this because because my husband did this job for many years before retiring.  So don't cuss the plow driver or give him finger salutes because he 's in your way or slowing you down.  He is there for your safety.

Thank you,

Carol

Interview with Author Nat Russo

Nat Russo

Pflugerville, Texas (suburb of Austin)

Good morning, Nat.  Welcome to Vision and Verse, the Place for Art and Authors.  What have you written?

I’ve written a yet unpublished fantasy, titled “Necromancer Awakening”. I’m currently writing several synopses for it and will begin querying agents and publishers in January of 2014.

What is your favorite genre to write?

Fantasy is my primary genre, though I’d feel comfortable in any type of speculative fiction. I find the power of speculative fiction lies in its ability to let the writer point a finger at certain elements in society without the reader necessarily realizing it.

Favorite food.

I grew up in a large Italian family, so pretty much anything Italian.

Tea or coffee?

One cup of coffee every morning. No more than that, though. I do drink tea when I’m not feeling well, however.

Pizza or ice cream?

Pizza. It’s all about the carbs for me!

Where would you like to visit?

One city I’d love to see is Moscow. I’ve always been fascinated by it. That’s probably because I grew up during the height of the Cold War.

Favorite musical artist.  Do you listen to music when you write?  What?

This is a tough one, because I love all music. However, if I had to pick one band/artist, I would choose Genesis. Their lead singer was Phil Collins, and he would be my second choice. Their music is unlike most rock bands (they are technically “progressive rock”) in that it is carefully orchestrated. It’s as close to classical music as rock can get, in my opinion.

I don’t listen to music as I type, because I’ve found it disturbs my focus. I do, however, listen to music when I’m imagining scenes (in the planning phase) and trying to get a feel for the overall emotion.

What I listen to depends on which emotion I’m trying to channel. I’ve found that Heavy Metal allows me to channel anger, and it helps me envision fight scenes very well. Progressive Rock is a cornucopia of emotion, so it’s a great all-purpose music for me while planning.

What makes you laugh?

You can never go wrong with a good pun! Oh, and my beagle. He tells great jokes.

How old were you when you started writing?

The first story I wrote was in high school, and it was an absolutely horrible bank heist story. I was fifteen years old at the time. It was “edgy” because it had cuss words in it. That was almost thirty years ago.

Describe your perfect evening.

Romance, romance, romance! Wine, fireplace, soft music, the woman I love, and more wine. The rest I’ll leave to your imagination.

Where do you get your inspiration?

Inspiration is an interesting thing. It’s rare that I have some epiphany in which the universe plants a story in my lap. What I’ve found is that I usually have seemingly unrelated threads of thought going on for years at a time. Then, something happens and they all converge. That’s how “Necromancer Awakening” happened, and it’s how some other untitled projects I’m working on happened as well.

What do you do when you get a writer's block?

Writer’s block is usually a symptom of spending too much time with a particular project, for me. It happens to me every six months or so, then I step away for a couple weeks. When I come back, I’m fresh and ready to go for another six months.

Sometimes it’s less drastic than that, however. Sometimes you get stuck on a specific scene or situation. When this happens to me, I fall back on the “try/fail” cycle and create more trouble for my characters. If I’ve done my job of making my characters living, breathing people, then they’ll always react.

Who is your favorite author?

If I was pressed to choose only one, I would choose Raymond E. Feist. He was responsible for turning me into a reader when I was 12 years old, and he’s a large part of why I’m a writer as an adult. I’ve been fortunate enough to forge an electronic friendship with him over the last 20 years, and he never hesitates to answer my questions.

Other contemporary writers I absolutely love: Terry Goodkind, Tom Clancy, Brandon Sanderson, J.K. Rowling, Ernest Cline, Frederick Pohl.

Best book you ever read.

The last one.

Ok, I feel like that was punting (though there’s some truth to it). Some will laugh, but I’d have to place Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone toward the top of the list. It was pure story on every page.

Who is the one person who has influenced your personal life the most and why?

When I was growing up, my best friend’s father, Bruce, became my martial arts instructor (Tang Soo Do). More than that, he became a second father to me. When I was going through the worst time of my life as a teenager, pulling away from the world as a result of a horrible car accident that I caused, he wouldn’t give up. He pulled me out of the shell I was crawling into and helped me step back out into the world.

If you could sit down and have a conversation with ONE person, living or dead, real or fictional, who would it be and why?

As strange as this sounds, I would love to have a bona fide conversation with one of my main characters, Mujahid Mukhtaar, an amazingly powerful necromancer…and all-around good guy. He’d be a good friend to have.

What advice would you give someone who aspired to be a writer?

Writing is a craft. Like any craft under the sun, you can practice it, and you can get better at it. When you first start down the road, your writing is going to be horrible. Don’t let this discourage you! We were all there, right where you are, writing crappy prose and worse stories! But what separates a successful writer from an unsuccessful writer is the successful writer never quit. And while I’m on the subject of success, you need to define success for yourself. Never let another person define it for you.

Do you have any links for us?

Here are my social media links:

Home Page and Blog: http://www.nat-russo.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/NatRussoAuthor

Twitter: @NatRusso (http://www.twitter.com/NatRusso)

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/NatRussoAuthor/