November 19, 2008
Today was a busy day doing things in the community and the nice thing about that is that I get to visit with some really nice folks, but normally it takes away from my writing. Today, that didn't happen. I had all afternoon to myself and my writing. What could be better.
As to that rejection/acceptance I mentioned yesterday, still no word from the editor. Oh well, their loss if they truly did reject the piece, she said with false bravado. Sniff, sniff!
Worked on 'The Woman Between'. Poor Stephen just can't get any sympathy. I mean just because he wants to kill his brother is no reason for the family to go off on him. I'm giving him all the emotional baggage of a middle child and he is just now, at age 24, beginning to find his own self-value. Lord, it's fun making these characters dance to my drumbeat.
I found time to work with my FlashXer writer's group. Did about six critiques, then submitted a story that I had written awhile back and just updated it to fit today's prompt. It's an interesting story that I've never submitted anywhere, so I'm looking forward to the feedback. I've received one and she like it a lot.
I'm getting some feedback on my website and so far, it's all been positive. Oh, and Jim, a local author, answered my question of the month, so I have to come up with a new one. He mentioned 'Hop-Frog, a humorous Poe story that I hadn't heard of, so he gets a book. He already has an 'Oasis', so I'll get one of my 'Skive' anthologies. What fun!
Received an email from Denise who said she listened to the interview with Lady Rerun and was pleased with how it turned out. So was I. I hope Portia and I manage to stay in touch.
I received my weekly email copy of Virtual Tales Serial Scoop and there is an article about 'Hannah and it looks like this -
Pre-orders
Hannah — Sharon Poppen
HANNAH (Expected Release — Winter 2008/2009) Genre: Westerns Author: Sharon Poppen Rated: R
Hannah and Caleb are young newlyweds on the plains of Texas in the late nineteenth century. They’ve staked their claim and have built a new home and a new life as cattle ranchers. But a cloud of dust in the...
And, it has a picture of the book. Looks good and I hope it means the print release is coming soon. People are asking when they can buy it, so that's a good sign!
Tomorrow is our monthly writer's group meeting at Hastings Book & Music Store. We gather there in the evening and each writer is given five minutes to read an original piece of their writing. Always a good time and always some great stories, not to mention the great coffee from their coffee bar.
Finally, our local newspaper ran a half-page article on my friend Shirley Wolford who passed away on Nov. 9th. Lots of good info on her life and a really good picture of her. I'm really going to miss her.
Time to sign off for now. Keep on writing, but if you don't write, then read, read, read!
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About Me
Questions of the Week - WIN A $15 Amazon.Com Gift Certificate
In Sharon Poppen's latest release, Mama Played for the King, when Phillip is forced into the French orphanage system, he is farmed out to work in what industry?
- or -
In Poppen's best seller, Hannah, what is the name of the man Hannah spends her every waking moment trying to bring to justice.
The first correct answer to either question wins a $15 gift certificate at Amazon.com.' Send your answer as a comment to the most recent post for this blog.
Reader Lena Casper knew the name of Michael's home planet was Maurac in Poppen's novel, Regardless. Ms. Casper received a $15 Amazon gift certificate for posting that answer.
- or -
In Poppen's best seller, Hannah, what is the name of the man Hannah spends her every waking moment trying to bring to justice.
The first correct answer to either question wins a $15 gift certificate at Amazon.com.' Send your answer as a comment to the most recent post for this blog.
Reader Lena Casper knew the name of Michael's home planet was Maurac in Poppen's novel, Regardless. Ms. Casper received a $15 Amazon gift certificate for posting that answer.
Story of the Week
The Band
By Sharon Poppen
When Buddy rounded the corner, he saw two of his band members pacing and stamping their feet to stay warm.
“Hey,” he announced his arrival. “Sorry, I’m so late. My mom was baking cookies until after eleven.
Couldn’t sneak out until I was sure she was asleep.”
“Dang, we’re freezing. You know old Jack won’t let us in until we’re all here,” said Glen.
Buddy hurried past them and rapped loudly on the service entrance to their local high school building.
Almost immediately, Jack, the black janitor, opened the door and hurried the young white boys inside.
“You’re late,” he reprimanded.
“Sorry,” said Buddy as he followed Jack through the hall and down into the boiler room in the cellar.
Jack’s son, Dwayne, was already set up and tuning his
guitar. Greetings were exchanged as the boys got their instruments ready. Buddy sang lead and played lead guitar. Dwayne played rhythm, Glen played bass, Ronnie was their drummer and all three did back-up singing.
Buddy glanced at his watch.
“Shoot! It’s already past midnight.” He looked over at Jack. “We still have to be out of here by two?”
“Pa,” begged Dwayne, “another half hour. Please?”
“Two-thirty, then you boys gotta get outta here.”
The boys gave Jack a thumbs-up as he closed the door to the almost soundproof boiler room. Jack listened for a bit as the boys began playing their version of “That’s All Right, Mama.” He smiled. Big Boy Crudup would be proud, but Elvis had nothing to worry about. Still, the boys were in tune and their voices rang with enthusiasm.
Jack went about his janitorial duties. He needed this job desperately and despite all the preaching and marching by Dr. King, even a janitor’s job was hard to
come by for a black man in Georgia in the late fifties.
\His wife was against him allowing the boys these secret practices. She just knew they’d be found out and Jack would be fired.
But Jack saw the want in his boy’s eyes and unlike most of the town, he didn’t think the new rock and roll was Satan’s music. In fact, he liked the way
gospel, blues and country music were being inter-woven to create this new fad that all the kids
were excited about. So, he let the boys sneak in every Sunday night for a couple hours of jamming. And who knows, new singers were being discovered every day. Jack felt the boys deserved their chance.
At two-thirty, Jack ushered the boys out and told them to be careful going home. And so it went for
a couple of years.
When the boys graduated, they loaded up Buddy’s old station wagon, said good-bye to their disappointed folks who hadn’t given up hope that their boys would get serious and go on to college, and headed for
Philadelphia. It seemed all the ‘discoveries’ were being made there.
Jack hugged his son, then spoke to all four boys. “Just remember, I want you boys to follow your dreams, but make sure that while you’re chasing them down, you don’t lose the real you along the way. Every morning, look in the mirror and be proud of the face staring back at you. You hear me?”
“I hear ya, Pa. I’ll do like you said,” said Dwayne while the others nodded.
Jack wished them well and waved good-bye. For a few years, he listened to all the news about rock and roll on their small black and white TV in the parlor and on the big red plastic radio in the kitchen.
He listened, but his boy and his mates were never mentioned.
*******
Thirty years later, the boys, now men, gathered for a final ‘thank you’ session with Jack. Dwayne greeted them at the side door to Rayne’s Funeral Home. He ushered them into the visiting room containing his father’s coffin.
Each man paid private respects to Jack, then Dwayne directed them to the musical instruments he had set up next to the coffin.
“Thanks for coming,” said Dwayne. “Pa was always our best and biggest supporter. Somehow, I know he’ll hear our efforts to say good-bye with the music he, and only he, allowed us to play all those years
ago.”
Buddy, now Dr. Bud Phillips, spoke for the others. “It’s our honor to get together for this special gig. Jack believed in us from the beginning. Always said we’d all do well, only we thought he meant with the band. What he really saw in us was a determination that would serve us in any field we chose.”
And so it was that Jack’s memorial service was highlighted by a band consisting of a doctor on lead guitar, high school teachers on rhythm and bass and a U.S. army major on drums.
The End
By Sharon Poppen
When Buddy rounded the corner, he saw two of his band members pacing and stamping their feet to stay warm.
“Hey,” he announced his arrival. “Sorry, I’m so late. My mom was baking cookies until after eleven.
Couldn’t sneak out until I was sure she was asleep.”
“Dang, we’re freezing. You know old Jack won’t let us in until we’re all here,” said Glen.
Buddy hurried past them and rapped loudly on the service entrance to their local high school building.
Almost immediately, Jack, the black janitor, opened the door and hurried the young white boys inside.
“You’re late,” he reprimanded.
“Sorry,” said Buddy as he followed Jack through the hall and down into the boiler room in the cellar.
Jack’s son, Dwayne, was already set up and tuning his
guitar. Greetings were exchanged as the boys got their instruments ready. Buddy sang lead and played lead guitar. Dwayne played rhythm, Glen played bass, Ronnie was their drummer and all three did back-up singing.
Buddy glanced at his watch.
“Shoot! It’s already past midnight.” He looked over at Jack. “We still have to be out of here by two?”
“Pa,” begged Dwayne, “another half hour. Please?”
“Two-thirty, then you boys gotta get outta here.”
The boys gave Jack a thumbs-up as he closed the door to the almost soundproof boiler room. Jack listened for a bit as the boys began playing their version of “That’s All Right, Mama.” He smiled. Big Boy Crudup would be proud, but Elvis had nothing to worry about. Still, the boys were in tune and their voices rang with enthusiasm.
Jack went about his janitorial duties. He needed this job desperately and despite all the preaching and marching by Dr. King, even a janitor’s job was hard to
come by for a black man in Georgia in the late fifties.
\His wife was against him allowing the boys these secret practices. She just knew they’d be found out and Jack would be fired.
But Jack saw the want in his boy’s eyes and unlike most of the town, he didn’t think the new rock and roll was Satan’s music. In fact, he liked the way
gospel, blues and country music were being inter-woven to create this new fad that all the kids
were excited about. So, he let the boys sneak in every Sunday night for a couple hours of jamming. And who knows, new singers were being discovered every day. Jack felt the boys deserved their chance.
At two-thirty, Jack ushered the boys out and told them to be careful going home. And so it went for
a couple of years.
When the boys graduated, they loaded up Buddy’s old station wagon, said good-bye to their disappointed folks who hadn’t given up hope that their boys would get serious and go on to college, and headed for
Philadelphia. It seemed all the ‘discoveries’ were being made there.
Jack hugged his son, then spoke to all four boys. “Just remember, I want you boys to follow your dreams, but make sure that while you’re chasing them down, you don’t lose the real you along the way. Every morning, look in the mirror and be proud of the face staring back at you. You hear me?”
“I hear ya, Pa. I’ll do like you said,” said Dwayne while the others nodded.
Jack wished them well and waved good-bye. For a few years, he listened to all the news about rock and roll on their small black and white TV in the parlor and on the big red plastic radio in the kitchen.
He listened, but his boy and his mates were never mentioned.
*******
Thirty years later, the boys, now men, gathered for a final ‘thank you’ session with Jack. Dwayne greeted them at the side door to Rayne’s Funeral Home. He ushered them into the visiting room containing his father’s coffin.
Each man paid private respects to Jack, then Dwayne directed them to the musical instruments he had set up next to the coffin.
“Thanks for coming,” said Dwayne. “Pa was always our best and biggest supporter. Somehow, I know he’ll hear our efforts to say good-bye with the music he, and only he, allowed us to play all those years
ago.”
Buddy, now Dr. Bud Phillips, spoke for the others. “It’s our honor to get together for this special gig. Jack believed in us from the beginning. Always said we’d all do well, only we thought he meant with the band. What he really saw in us was a determination that would serve us in any field we chose.”
And so it was that Jack’s memorial service was highlighted by a band consisting of a doctor on lead guitar, high school teachers on rhythm and bass and a U.S. army major on drums.
The End
After the War, Before the Peace - Available Now!
Available at www.xlibris.com/afterthewarbeforethepeace and most on-line book sellers.
Follow four South Carolina men as they adjust to the new South after the Civil War avenging loss as they search for love.
Follow four South Carolina men as they adjust to the new South after the Civil War avenging loss as they search for love.
Hannah
Now available at http://www.virtualtales.com/ and most on-line book sellers.
Follow this young widow as she rides through Texas bringing desperados to justice.
Follow this young widow as she rides through Texas bringing desperados to justice.
Abby - Finding More Than Gold
Now available at http://www.awe-struck.net/ and most on-line book sellers.
Travel with this turn of the century Irish lass as she finds more than gold while traveling from Chicago to San Francisco and up into the Canadian Yukon.
Travel with this turn of the century Irish lass as she finds more than gold while traveling from Chicago to San Francisco and up into the Canadian Yukon.
2 comments:
Oh gosh, I don't know the answer. Wish I did!
I'd like to know more about you, so I tagged you. Suzanne Lieurance tagged me. I write fiction, short short stories, for now. Come visit.
www.peaceandlaughter.blogspot.com
Lisa H.
Sorry to hear about Shirley's passing, Sharon. I always enjoyed reading about your visits with her and her desire to keep writing even though she was blind. A couragous, determined lady.
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