Easter weekend sample

The Set Up

           This week, we return to my serial novel, The Presidents Club.  We join a scene from Chapter 18 back in the Louisville Tavern. The guys are discussing an absent member while Louie the bartender has just finished serving a new custome -- a stranger.

The Snippet

Tommy Pritchett was proud of his friend, Abe, “Where is he?”

Louie answered, “He called a couple of hours ago. He was going to stop by and pick up Ron after he got off work at the Holiday Inn. Ron needed a ride today.”

“Ron needs a ride every day,” muttered York.

Fishinghawk took up for Ron, “Sometimes he don’t -- sometimes he walks.”

“Ain’t he in his eighties?” asked the pastor.

“Where is he?” asked Dr. Ridge.

“Can’t you hear? They just said Abe’s bringing him,” York snapped.

“Of course, I can hear!” retorted Ridge. “I’m talking about the new guy, Gregg, or whatever he said his name is.”

They looked at the bar stool where Jerry Gregg had been -- and he was gone.

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Snippet Sunday - March 24

Like it or not, we're all in sales.

The Set Up:      

       Retail sales has paid the bills for me for almost forty years. During the mid-eighties, I got out of pharmacy and got into REAL sales. In fact, it was straight commission sales. 

       Ask those who know, and you'll find out that a job in straight commission sales can be the highest paid job available. It's also one of the highest turnover positions because it's practitioners cannot cut the mustard. 

       If people are writing books full time, well, they're in sales. Unless they can get into a situation where they get advances on their work, they're definitely in straight commission sales. 

       My snippet this week comes from a blog I wrote that appeared on my publisher's site, HERE. Maybe the excerpt below will inspire you to read the entire article.

This week's snippet:

Over the years I’ve heard many euphemisms for people in sales: account rep, consultant, advisor, broker, agent, customer service rep, and one of my favorites, vice president.

I’ve crossed trails with many people who haven’t done as well as they would like to have had in their chosen field, simply because they couldn’t sell themselves or their products: accountants, bankers, bookkeepers, ministers, photographers, artists, painters, editors, doctors, lawyers, chiropractors, pharmacists, teachers, nurses, coaches, retail store managers, and the list is endless.

In fact, everyone is in sales -- especially authors.

Everyone is selling something and it’s usually themselves or their skills or services.

Sometimes, we blame our low self-esteem on others: the used car salesman in a plaid sports coat, the door to door brush salesman in a polyester suit, the cosmetics sales lady in an old car.

Baloney.

Name a profession that hasn’t had it’s share of unprofessional perpetrators of perpetual sleaze.

Want to change the perception?  

Start with the person you see in the mirror.

What next?

        Sample the work of dozens of other great writers representing a cross section of genres HERE.  

        If you're an author languishing in anonymity, remember the old adages, "There's safety in numbers," and "Sales is a numbers game."

Get busy growing your network of contacts, both in real life and online. (How many connections do you have on FaceBook & Twitter?)

St. Patrick's Day at the Louisville Tavern

The Set Up

Meanwhile, back at the Louisville Tavern, one of the members of The Presidents Club, Woodrow Risk, is sharing a newspaper clipping with the group. We join the scene near it's conclusion...

The Snippet

Reverend Pritchett now offered up a summary of the situation, “So what we have here is a sign. Maybe not from God, but a sign to which we should give some credence. If this document survived the rigors of a tumultuous journey from someone’s front lawn, into their bathroom, then to the recycle bin, and almost into a bird cage, to now be spread out before us here, on the bar in the Louisville Tavern, it must warrant our serious attention and consideration.”

York chided the minister, “Are you trying to channel William Faulkner or Billy Graham?”

Louie, who had been serving a recent arrival at the far end of the bar rejoined the conversation and said, “I heard you mention Creedence. Are you talking about ‘Fortunate Son’?”

Gold said, “Abe’s friend must have been a fortunate son. It sounds like he must be rich. He sponsored that PBS show I saw and now he’s got his own ‘initiative’ and something called a ‘Government Literacy Project.’”

Fishinghawk had to join the discourse, “Well, I’m in favor of more literacy in government. Woody, did you read this thing before it got the bird shit on it?”

What next?

Interested? Sample the work of over four dozen other writers by visiting the home web site for Weekend Writing Warriors.

The following video is, of course, relevant to this post as well as my previous article on helicopters. Enjoy!

Sex Scene in Seven Sentences

News: 

        

My serial novel, The Presidents Club, a political thriller, is now available twice a week, on Sundays and Wednesdays on the publisher's website. My weekly blog on the same site is presented every Friday. 

The Set Up: 

        Rosemary Woods is executive secretary to billionaire investor, Julian Thibaut. Her unrequited crush on Thibaut's personal security chief, Gerald Pointe, has come to fruition the night before. They are finishing breakfast and we join the scene just after she asks him if he wants to see the morning paper.

The Sentences:

        “I guess not, neither of us are dressed to go get it,” and they laughed together. “What day is it anyway?” he asked.

“Saturday.” She smiled as she got up and walked towards the bedroom. As she walked, she untied the belt of her robe. Then she said over her shoulder, “You must have enjoyed last night if you can’t remember what day it is.” 

As she stepped out of view, the robe dropped to the floor.

...and now:

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Want to check out the work of over five dozen other great writers? Visit the home page of Weekend Writing Warriors.

Weekend Writing Warriors - March 3, 2013

News

        The Presidents Club will be presented twice a week starting this week. Wednesday, March 6 is the big day (Chapter Ten). From now on, readers will get one chapter on Sunday and an additional one on Wednesdays.  My weekly blog article on the same site will move to Fridays. Happy reading!

The Set Up

        The old men in the Louisville Tavern had sent their youngest member out into the dark to investigate the explosion that had left the bar in darkness. As we join the scene, Franklin York has just returned to the bar.

The Eight Sentences

            

York was rattled.

He had difficulty finding a bar stool.

The flashlight in his hands betrayed his claim, “I’m alright.” 

The beam was a desperate searchlight seeking a target in vain.

The men in the bar were rattled by York’s behavior.

They were all anxious to hear what York had to report about the explosion but didn’t press him.

The silence was unbearable and seconds seemed like hours.

York spoke to Louie in the dark, “Gimme a shot of Jack Daniels -- and another beer.”

And now...

        For samples of over five dozen other great writers, visit the web page for Weekend Writing Warriors.

Your Man in Service

Remember that box of photographs your parents had?
You know, the one on the top shelf in your father’s closet?
Or the one on top of the wardrobe in the hall.
Maybe in your house it was a cardboard box shoved under the bed.
In my house, it was a box that coat hangers had previously occupied. (My father and his brother owned a dry cleaning business.) Inside it was several shoe boxes.
More than half of the photos were black and white.
The ones in color were faded. Color film technology in the sixties wasn’t the best, but it was “Fox,” from San Antonio, TX.

I still remember the running Fox logo on the outside of the envelope in which the photos arrived from the drugstore -- Harper’s Pharmacy, Mangham, Louisiana.

If you’re a baby boomer, this memory probably hits close to home.
If your parents were boomers, most likely you remember stories about the “picture box.”

Wouldn’t it be cool if those photos could talk?

Somewhere in our box of photos we found several “V-mail” letters.  Remember those one page form letters that folded into an envelope?  

Wouldn’t it be cool if those letters could talk?

Art Hoffman and his wife, Martha, found a way to hear them.  

Really.

That's right -- actually talk.

The talking was coming from Martha’s father, who had passed in 2005. Art and Martha had to clean out a closet so that workers could update and paint the room. They found a box of old records. Not letters. Not vinyl. Older than that. These were records that would break if dropped. The fact that these discs had survived over fifty years of storage was significant enough for interest.

What Art and Martha found in the record box was stunning.

During World War II, the Pepsi Cola company sponsored a program with which service people could record a message on a 78 rpm record. Many of them did just that and sent them to loved ones.

Walter Eddy, her father, had availed himself of Pepsi’s “Your Man in Service” program and recorded a message to the woman whom he would later marry. We can all hear what he sounded like when he asked, “ How's everything at home? Write more often if you can,” thanks to Art’s video. Have you heard what your father sounded like when he was twenty-something?

Mr. Eddy survived a tour of duty in the South Pacific and lived until March 2005. Not only does he live in the memories of those who knew and loved him, we can all appreciate and learn from his thoughtfulness.

Check your closets, under the beds, and in the attic. If you have a relative who served in World War II, you may be able to hear them again. Don’t wait.  After all,  WWII vets are dying - 10,000 a day.

Voices forever lost to history.

Look for an envelope or record with the “Your Man in Service” label -- then listen closely.

You’ll hear real history.

================

Listen to the history Art and Martha heard in this video:

Our regular readers know how much we value comments.  However today, we request that in lieu of comments here, please offer your feedback to Art on YouTube. 

Februrary 24 - Weekend Writing Warriors

News:

        My first novel, The Tourist Killer won an award for "Best Cover Design-Suspense Novel" at Venture Galleries. 

            Kudos to: Claudia Barry for her water color painting

                          David Ammons for his original art work

                          Jeff Bennington for his cover design.

The Set Up

        My contribution for this week comes from Chapter Eight of The Presidents Club, my serial novel on VentureGalleries.com.

        This scene includes a reference to a significant event from my first novel, The Tourist Killer.

        We join a discussion between billionaire-activist Julian Thibaut and his chief of security, Gerald Pointe.

        Thibaut is speaking...

The Six Sentences

        "Jane has done an excellent job of keeping the attempt on my life out of the news. Just a few people at the meeting knew about it. They were focused on Farrell’s heart attack. He got all the attention.”

Pointe commented, “He was dead when he hit the floor. The media said it was a heart attack, but rumors persist that he was shot.”

Thibaut stood and with no emotion, commented, “I wouldn’t know anything about that. Let’s get the calendar set and coordinate the schedules.”

What now?

         Are you a writer/author?

         Want more exposure for your work?

          Interested in checking out samples of over five dozen other great writers?

Then just click HERE and visit the home site of Weekend Writing Warriors.