Categories
Writer's Notes

Thankful: LITTLE THINGS

cover for sadieBy Barbara Wallace

Raise your hand if you’re having a challenging year.

I don’t know about you, but it seems like everyone I know is having a rough 2018.  Job issues, health challenges, family problems. The other night a friend commented that we’ve seen each other almost as much as often wakes this year than at girl’s nights out.  Even if you aren’t having personal crises, there’s all the bad news going on in the world itself.  Seems like everyone is angry, bitter and yelling at one another.

As one of my friends said, it’s hard to stay positive.

And yet, despite the bad energy and personal crises, I find myself feeling incredibly thankful this November. For starters, I’m here to be thankful. I made it through eleven months of stress without needing a straitjacket. 

I have a roof over my head, a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee on my table and a husband who voluntarily folded the laundry yesterday.

But there’s more.  The sun rose. The changing foliage in my neighbor’s yard is a sight to behold. I have a pair of cats to snuggle while reading.

I watched my son marry the love of his life. I have a husband who puts up with writing deadlines and is strong enough to ask for help when he needs it. I have friends who listen to me when I whine about the stress in my life, and I was lucky enough to be holding my mother’s hand when she passed away.

There are so many little things in this world that we take for granted that, when added up, remind us that there are a lot of good things to appreciate in our lives. Even during the bad times.  For example, as tragic and stressful as it was to watch my mother die of dementia, I thankful I was able to be there for her.  Just as I’m also thankful for the friends and family who were there for me.

By now you’ve figured out, I’m one of those schmaltzy people who believes in looking on the bright side. For those of you who prefer bitterness, I’m sorry. For the rest of you, I hope you have many little things in your life for which you can be thankful and that 2019 brings many more.

PS: While I’m being thankful – thanks to Thonie for hosting me today and letting me be schmaltzy. 

 

Bio:

BWallaceBarbara Wallace is an award-winning romance author who has recently branched into cozy mysteries.  Her debut mystery, THE SUBURBS HAVE SECRETS, was published in 2017.  Look for the sequel BACKYARDS HAVE BODIES in early 2019. 

You can read more about Barbara at http://BarbaraWallace.com

 

 

cover for sadie

THE SUBURBS HAVE SECRETS

Blackmail and Murder and Lies – Oh My!

When Sadie McIntyre gives a drunken Marylou Paretsky a ride home on a rainy night, little does she realize it’s the last time anyone will see Marylou alive. The following morning, Marylou is found dead at the bottom of her staircase, the victim of foul play.

Who killed Marylou? Was it her philandering husband? His lover? Or one of the residents Marylou was blackmailing? In a town where everyone has a secret, the list of suspects is endless.

To make matters worse, Sadie is hiding her own secret. One that, if discovered, could shoot her to the top of the list!

Can Sadie find Marylou’s killer before her secret becomes public? Or will the killer find her first?

Where to buy The Suburbs Have Secrets: 

Amazon:   

 https://www.amazon.com/Suburbs-Secrets-Sadie-McIntyre-Mystery-ebook/dp/B075KNQ833

 Barnes & Noble:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-suburbs-have-secrets-barbara-wallace/1127626753?type=eBook

 iBooks:

https://itunes.apple.com/do/book/the-suburbs-have-secrets/id1324881854?l=en&mt=11

 

Categories
Writer's Notes

Guest Post: The Biggest Plus of Being a Mystery Writer

tangled web front cover jpegBy Marilyn Meredith

#1 is those I’ve met along the way. I’ve had some great conversations with some of the big names like David Morrell whom I had the privilege of introducing at a writing conference, Dennis and Gayle Lynds whom I met at a small writing conference years ago and ran into several times after that. Mary Higgins Clark whom I met at the same small writing conference the next year and again at an MWA Edgar cocktail party in New York. Ian Rankin who I sat with (along with his publisher and agent) at a Bouchercon luncheon, Nancy Pickard who I joined on a panel with one other person at a conference. Lee Child who I was with on a panel and had a great conversation later in an elevator, Jan Burke whom I’ve met several times and had a delightful conversation with her and her husband in an airport. And William Kent Krueger who I’ve met several times and count as a friend.

However, the friendships that I’ve made with fans and other mystery writers are at the very top of my list. One of these, of course, is my hostess today, Thonie Hevron. I met her and many others at the great Public Safety Writers Association Conference.

Among those is John Schembra whom I met long ago when PSWA was still the Police Writers Club and have had many discussions with him since then. Michelle Perin Callahan, who is now the president of PSWA, has been a friend since PSWA reorganized and had its first conference.

I can’t really name all the author friends that I have in PSWA because it would take up too many pages. Just know that I revere all these friendships.

And of course there are all those friends I’ve made through Sisters in Crime—especially the Central Coast bunch. I’ve known Sue McGinty the longest, but Barbara Hodges comes in close. She and I championed eBooks long before anyone believed they’d become a real item. Victoria Heckman and I braved being roommates in Alaska and have a deeper bond because of it. Madeline Gornell and I were also roommates at a conference and acted like teens at a slumber party.

Gloria Getman and I became friends when she attended a writing class I taught many years ago, and I still see her often at the Tulare Kings Writers group. Lorna Collins became a friend through Epicon and we’ve been close ever since. There are so many more who’ve enriched my life and I cherish.

However, I don’t want to forget the fans of my books who have been one of the main reasons I keep on writing. Top on the list is Sheri Smith who came to a winetasting and music event where I was selling my books. She’s even appeared in one of my books at her own request. Some of my fans prefer the Deputy Tempe Crabtree series, and others favor the Rocky Bluff series. When I still attended the big mystery cons I met some great readers who became my fans, and now they are friends on Facebook, along with some new fans I’ve picked up along the way. It’s so great when one of them asks me when the next book is coming out.

Marilyn, who writes the RBPD series as F. M. Meredith

Blurb: Too many people are telling lies: The husband of the murder victim and his secretary, the victim’s boss and co-workers in the day care center, her stalker, and Detective Milligan’s daughter.

Link: https://tinyurl.com/yabj9z9f

Marilyn in Vegas 1Bio: F. M. Meredith who is also known as Marilyn once lived in a beach town much like Rocky Bluff. She has many friends and relatives in law enforcement. She’s a member of MWA, 3 chapters of Sisters in Crime and serves on the PSWA Board.

Webpage: http://fictionforyou.com
Blog: https://marilynmeredith.blogspot.com
Facebook: Marilyn Meredith
Twitter: @marilynmeredith

Join me tomorrow at https://kefintipplescorner.blogspot.com/ where the topic is Preparation for What Should be Next.

Categories
Street Stories The Call Box

The Call Box: Partners

polic-call-box-pedestal-lapd-gamewell-DCAL2786_dt1By Ed Meckle, Retired LAPD

Ask most street cops what they consider the most valuable; the most important part of their professional life, if forced to; the last he/she would consider giving up.

I feel the answer would be their partner.

Partner defined: “One associated with another, especially in business or action.”

“Associate or colleague” OK so far.

“Either of two persons who dance together” (define dance)

“One of two or more persons who play together in a game against an opposing side” and “sharing risks and profits” Yes and yes

You should pick your partner with the same care as you pick your mate because you are going to be as close to and spend as much time with them as you do with the person you married. Choose wisely.

Start with the obvious—you need someone who you can get along with; who will be there when your life depends on it. Someone dependable, someone who will not lose it when the “fit hits the shan.” Trust me it will, and that’s a hell of a time to discover you picked wrong.

Choose someone with a mindset such as yours yet different enough so you complement each other. He/she sees what you might miss and vice-versa. Someone in whom you can see and appreciate the good qualities and ignore the unimportant bad ones; someone you feel comfortable and communicate easily with.

“On the right, by the alley.”

“Got it.”

Someone who knows what you are likely to do in a particular situation; who can understand and also convey a message with a shrug, nod, grimace or some other gesture you hadn’t even thought of.

Your Huntley to, his/her Brinkley (dating myself here); during a stop and on your feet taking and maintaining a good position. Moving sometimes as though choreographed. His/her Rogers to your Astaire (yet again).

And when it’s “come and get it time,” and the world is spinning out of control, his Butch to your Sundance.

As the saying goes, “someone who runs TOWARD the sound of gunfire.”

Consider the following:

You begin your tour by seating yourself side by side with your partner in a visibly marked vehicle. You are going to spend the next eight plus hours together directed by the radio to solve various problems.

When free from the radio you are on the “prowl” and “looking for trouble.” Let me repeat that: looking for trouble.

Does this sound like the sort of job description where you drive to the labor pool and pick someone from the crowd? I think not.

You hope to find out before it becomes critical that you have chosen to right person, since by then it will be too late.

They say you are lucky or rich if you have one truly good friend in your lifetime. I would think then that if the same could be said of partners. I am truly blessed.

Ward Fitzgerald and Hal Brasher, both WWII vets, taught me “the game.” Both were my kindly old “uncles.”

Frank Isbell and I were the “proverbial identical twins separated at birth,” who found each other, while Richard L. Sullivan “Sully” and I were truly soul mates.

I will lie for you, I will bleed for you, I will take a bullet for you and I will die for you.

Dedicated to PARTNERS everywhere.

Categories
Writer's Notes

Thankful: In So Many Ways

Thankful and dressageBy Thonie Hevron

This image doesn’t do justice to the volume of thankfulness I carry in my heart. Hubby and I found it at a local store and I “felt” it so deeply, we mounted it on the front of our house, next to the entry door.

I cannot lie: I’ve had some challenges this year. Last year ended with the mister feeling so poorly that he couldn’t do anything but sleep eighteen hours a day. At the Thanksgiving celebration, I saw the concern on everyone’s faces at the sad shape my once vigorous husband was in. By April of this year, he was in ICU. For thirteen days, my kids rallied around their dad—and me. My daughter, Melisa, said, “Dad’s in the best hands possible. We can’t help him, but we can help you.” It still makes me puddle up when I think of it. On his birthday, April 20th, the docs said he must go home. He wasn’t improving in the hospital and they could do no more for him. By then, the kids and I were collecting ideas for hubby’s funeral.

The mister came home, remained in bed for a week or so. Then, something happened. We choose to believe it was God’s intervention; you can believe it or not. His meds were the same, his diet was better than in the hospital, but he was still emaciated (he lost 30 lbs. in the first 2 weeks of his illness). It’s like a light switch was flipped. He began to improve. Slowly, slowly, all the miserable symptoms disappeared, weight re-gained. Finally, after four months, he was healthy enough to endure a surgery for tumors. The story improves—as does his health. He won’t be running any marathons soon (he never did before…) but he’s much better. In fact, the cardiac procedure he was scheduled for yesterday was canceled because the EKG showed no need for surgical intervention! A miracle.

We both feel like we’ve been given a chance to reclaim our lives. I didn’t know how my world could be rocked until I faced a future without my best friend. It’s been humbling and inspiring. I’ll go over my word allotment if I count all my blessings but I’m going to do a few:

  • Last month, I picked up my new story, Felon with a Firearm, and have been working on it. I’m about 2/3rds done with the first draft.
  • Hubby suggested a housekeeper twice a month to free me up for writing. That’s working nicely, I must say.
  • I have a new publisher (for whom I am thankful), Aakenbaaken & Kent (A & K), a small press out of Georgia. He’s contracted to re-publish all three of my titles as well as the new book. Look for this in 2019. Yay!
  • We have health insurance and have paid a pittance to what hubby’s medical bills were.
  • We have the best kids, and friends, sisters (and brother-in-law) ever for holding my hand in hospitals in four counties.
  • We live in a lovely home in the town we feel most connected with—love the weather, accessibility to so many travel amenities, medical, entertainment, proximity to friends and family.
  • In short, we have everything we need and much more. This is why I’m thankful.

 

November is always busy as I do craft fairs and book events. This November will not be any different, but I know Thanksgiving at my sister’s house will be a joyous occasion.

Enough about my thankfulness. Let’s hear from other authors about their thankfulness. Marilyn Meredith is featured twice this month, the 7th is related to her Tangled Webs book release —also from A & K. Marilyn’s Thankful theme on November 12th. Barbara Wallace will post on November 9th, Madeline McEwen on the 16th, Jackie Zortman (another A & K author) on November 23 and the last (but not least) installment on Thankfulness is Stephen Brayton on November 30th.

Don’t forget to look in on Sundays for Just the Facts, Ma’am, stories from the street. As an author, they will stimulate your imagination but give you the real feel for what police officers feel.

~~

Thonie’s November Appearances:

S Rafael Holiday-Craft-Fair.pngNovember 3rd, Saturday: See Thonie at the San Rafael Goldenaires Annual Holiday Craft Fair. Historical novelist Jeane Slone will also be there. The Fair features handcrafted items from over 60 vendors. Hours are 10 A.M. to 5 P.M. at 618 B Street, San Rafael.
~~

Fall Craft RP p1November 17th and 18th, 2018: Thonie will be at the 3rd Annual Fall Crafts and Vendors Fair at the DoubleTree Hotel, 1 DoubleTree Lane, Rohnert Park. The event is free and will be open from 10 A.M. until 4 P.M. both Saturday and Sunday. Books will be for sale.
~~

39th RP CraftFaireLogo.jpgThe Rohnert Park Holiday Faire at the Rohnert Park Community Center, 5401 Snyder Lane, has become an annual tradition for Thonie and historical fiction author Jeane Slone. This year’s event will be on November 23 and 24th (the weekend after Thanksgiving). Be sure to check out their book table and do your other holiday shopping, too! This event is free and starts at 10 A.M. until 4 P.M.

~~

Categories
Street Stories The Call Box

The Call Box: Mini-mini Adventures

polic-call-box-pedestal-lapd-gamewell-DCAL2786_dt1By Ed Meckle, Retired LAPD

I was a uniformed police officer assigned to night watch patrol with my regular partner Frank Isbell. It was barely dusk, and we just turned onto a quiet residential street when we hear a call, “Ambulance, injured child.”

The address was in the next block and was a child-care facility in one of the old homes in the area. We were close and decided to respond.

The turn-of-the-century house set back from the street had a fenced in front yard littered with toys, tricycles, and a play house. At the top of the front porch stairs stood a young woman holding what appeared to be an unconscious child, 3-4 years of age.

The woman has been crying and was on the edge of hysteria. Frank took the child while I calmed her down. The young boy has what appears to be an excessive amount of dried blood coming from both ears which has run down both side of his face before drying. She told me she found him “unconscious” on the floor of the closet with the “blood” and was unable to rouse him.

At this point Frank, who sometimes has a flair for the dramatic, states, “I have a diagnosis. It’s not blood. It’s chocolate.”

It seems our young friend found a stash of soft chocolate candy. So, hiding himself in the closet he stuffed as much as he could in his mouth. When he could hold no more, (boys being boys) he then stuffed both ears full of chocolate. Having overdosed, he fell asleep at which time chocolate did what chocolate does, it melted and ran down his face and when dry gave the appearance of dried blood.

The ambulance crew was able to wake him up, clean his ears and then treated the woman with smelling salts.

A few moments later while waiting at the stop sign we looked at each other and burst out laughing.

~~~
Another time, still working with Frank, it was late night and traffic was almost nonexistent. We were stopped waiting to turn onto a major street when a lone vehicle filled with screaming party-goers slowly passed in front of us knocking over traffic cones one after another. We were in a major construction area and there were cones everywhere to guide traffic through a maze of detours. We swung in behind him and with our lights off, follow him for a least a block or about 50-60 cones.

When I lit him up, he was so startled he did a 90 degrees right turn and hit the curb.
He was cold sober, embarrassed and apologetic. I assured him we knew that he meant no harm. As a matter of fact, I offered, “I am sure you were just about to park your car and pick up and replace all the cones. Correct? And we are going to stay here and help you by making sure the line is perfectly straight.”

He thanked us for not arresting him and sending him to prison. One of us just “may have” mentioned the newly invented, “TRAFFIC CONE HIGHWAY DISRUPTION ACT.”
Lesson learned.

They say baseball is a game of statistics or numbers. In a way, so is police work. How far did you drive, how many calls, tickets, stops, time consumed for each and on and on?
Known as recap, the ear candy and traffic cone incidents would not have credited us with any meaningful stats. So, even though not part of the numbers game we did what we were sent out there to do. Since most police activity is nonconfrontational we were protecting and serving.

They say character is what you do when no one is watching……..

Categories
Writer's Notes

Suspension of Disbelief: Niles Reddick

Reading the Coffee Grounds COVER“Writing about Difference”
by Niles Reddick

In a recent article on writing about the concept of difference for the anthology Southern Writers on Writing, I point out that of the hundreds, maybe thousands, of things all around us on a daily basis, it’s that which is uniquely different that registers on our radars the most, and that difference is what I tend to focus on when I am developing a character, describing a place, telling a story, or writing dialogue. It’s analogous to Coleridge’s fusion between the factual and the fantastic. The difference is the fantastic and the detail of the story is the factual.

One of the first stories I published was about one of my aunts who collected road kill and made art. It became crystal clear for me that I had a different sort of relative than most, an aunt who not only hacked off deer legs to use for legs of a table, but skinned dead rattlesnakes to make belts, used the snake bones to make jewelry, and removed a raccoon skin from a fresh kill along the interstate to make a toilet seat cover, just to name a few. One of her strange beliefs was about peroxide. The chemical make-up of peroxide has an extra atom of oxygen compared to the make-up of water, and she believed we needed the extra oxygen because of all the pollution in the world. So, my aunt put it in her tea, which caused it to fizz. At family reunions, all of the relatives who drank the tea were getting extra oxygen, except me. I feared for my life and felt guilty for not sharing my insider knowledge with them, though none of them ever got sick or died.
In the example of my aunt, it her difference in character and behavior, but with other stories, it’s the story itself. I recently wrote a small flash fiction piece titled “Wet Nurse” that was based on my paternal grandmother who I learned had been a wet nurse in a small rural community in the South. Cousins confirmed she had not only served as a wet nurse, she had also healed herself and others by using afterbirth. She had healed her own ulcerated leg by wrapping it in afterbirth when none of the prescribed pharmaceuticals worked. They said she kept afterbirth in a jar in the refrigerator right next to the jug of milk when she needed it for herself or anyone else.

A humorous account of my maternal grandmother was when she and her sister smoked marijuana for the first time in their mid-eighties while at the beach. They’d heard it would help their eyes and tried it. My grandmother said to her sister, “I don’t feel a thing.” She got up from her rocking chair on the porch of the beach house and fell flat on her face and began laughing. Then, her sister, said, “Honey, are you okay?” Then, she began laughing, too. I never asked where they bought marijuana and couldn’t believe they had drug connections.

My writing does not always reveal family anecdotes. I have adapted fictitious variations of historical stories that highlight difference. In my last novel Drifting Too Far from the Shore I used the ancient literary device known as nesting (story within story) to call attention to some rather brutal tragedies. In one, a lynch mob in Southern Georgia murdered Mary Turner, a pregnant African American female, and her unborn fetus in the beginning of the twentieth century. The lynch mob took her to a nearby river, where she was hung upside down in a tree. Her belly was split open and her living fetus dropped to the ground, where they stomped it, poured gas on it, and burned it. Mary Turner also had her clothes burned off while hanging in the tree and being riddled with bullets.

Another example from that novel was about Hispanic migrant workers who were murdered just a few years ago. Women were raped and men were beaten to death by drug-crazed thugs who knew that the migrant workers kept all their wages in cash and with them. The laws in place would not allow the migrant workers to have bank accounts.

I am appreciative to have my own misfit island of family, friends, and experiences that allow me the opportunity to capture the concept of difference in writing. Whether it’s my dad giving away used Pizza Hut pans as wedding gifts, the lady at the cleaners giving me someone else’s clothes and insisting they’re mine, or seeing someone read a book while driving eighty miles per hour in eight lanes of traffic in Atlanta, I will always capture that which is different in prose.

~~~

Niles Reddick head shot

About the Author

Niles Reddick’s collection Road Kill Art and Other Oddities was a finalist for an Eppie award; his novel Lead Me Home was a national finalist for a ForeWord Award and a finalist in the Georgia Author of the Year award in the fiction category; and his novel Drifting too far from the Shore was a nominee for a Pulitzer Prize and a Pen Faulkner award.

His work has appeared in several anthologies: Southern Voices in Every Direction (Iris Press), Unusual Circumstances (Pocol Press), Getting Old (KY Story Press), Happy Holidays (Kind of Hurricane Press), Dis-or-der (Red Dashboard), Flash! A Collection (The Fictional Café), and in Short Story America.

Author of over hundred and fifty short stories published in literary magazines and journals all over the world, Niles and his family make their home in Jackson, Tennessee, where he serves as the Vice Provost for the University of Memphis, Lambuth. His website is http://nilesreddick.com/

~~~

Early Praise for Reading the Coffee Grounds
“The forty five stories in this collection are set in the Southern U.S. The terrain they cover, however, is universal. Reddick, with an acute eye for detail, depicts childhood, adolescence, young adulthood, old age and death with compassion and wry humor. Family tensions at a grandmother’s funeral, a swimming pool closing rather than admitting non-whites, and the effect of a company merger on employees are just a few of the stories in this accomplished collection that will resonate long after reading them.”
-Sandra Arnold; Christchurch, New Zealand; author of A Distraction of Opposites, Tomorrow’s Empire, and Sing No Sad Songs.

“To read Niles Reddick’s work is to travel across literary lines. At times, we laugh; other times, we cry, smile, and bite our nails in anticipation. This is clearly the prose of a fearless master, and we should treasure such a voice.”
-Mathieu Cailler, Hollywood, CA; author of May I Have This Dance?, Loss Angeles, Clotheslines, and others. His website is: http://mathieucailler.com/

“In his collection Niles Reddicks’ brilliance involves unmasking the oddities of the every-day world with a caring eye for detail, and a truckload of love. These stories are funny, sad, and powerfully wise.”
-Meg Pokrass; London, United Kingdom; author of The Dog Looks Happy Upside Down, Cellulose Pajamas, My Very End of the Universe, and others. Her website is: http://megpokrass.com/

“Niles Reddick’s stories are grounded in empathy with everyday people trying to get on in life. There is poignancy here – and humour, a sense of the absurd, and some darkness. A thoroughly enjoyable and impressive collection.”
-Peter Blair and Ashley Chantler; Chester, England; Directors, International Flash Fiction Association: http://www.chester.ac.uk/flash.fiction
Forthcoming events: Niles Reddick will appear at the KGB Bar and Literary Club in New York City; Novel bookstore in Memphis TN; Parnassus Books in Nashville, TN; the Southern Festival of Books in Nashville, TN; Short Story America festival in Beaufort, SC; Pulpwood Queen’s book club in Nacogdoches, TX.

For booking information, contact The Robinson Agency at: 800-782-2995 or Contact@TheRobinsonAgency.com

 

Categories
Street Stories The Call Box

The Call Box: A Vast Wasteland

By Ed Meckle, Retired LAPDpolic-call-box-pedestal-lapd-gamewell-DCAL2786_dt1
Fifty-six years ago, Newton Minow, then chairman of the F.C.C. uttered the still quotable line describing TV as “a vast wasteland.”

As true now as then, most people gain their perspective of various occupations or professions from TV. Doctors, attorneys and yes, police officers.

TV helps people to understand us–what, with our wild car chases, daily gunfights, magic deductions, the treatment of victims and especially suspects, instant DNA and so on.
I have said it before and now again. Most of the job is non-confrontational and non-criminal. I understand that no one would watch a show of an officer giving directions, helping someone locked out of their house or car, looking for lost kids, etc.

The reality is a wild, crazy, funny wonderful ride with God knows what encountered along the way, from the mundane to “you ain’t gonna believe this.” Police work is the thrill of living by your wits and sometimes flying by the seat of your pants. Just the satisfaction you get from doing the job, especially when there is no one there to say, “Atta boy.”

Two examples:

Los_Angeles_Memorial_Coliseum_-_USC
Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum

I was a uniformed officer assigned to some event or another at the Memorial Coliseum, that monolithic home to the 1932 Olympics. I was walking a solo beat on one of the concourse levels, the wide cement “roads,” home to food stands, beer sales and massive restrooms that circle the inside of the venue.

I was approached by a man who reported. “There’s trouble in the men’s restroom.” He was gone before I could obtain any details.

Eight to ten feet inside the door, the problem was evident. A well dressed, middle-aged woman had inadvertently entered the men’s room. The urinals, probably twenty plus, are against the far wall. As she entered someone yelled, “Lady in the room,” at which time a good number of the men at the urinals turned as one to see what was happening.
The woman is now face to face, so to speak, with a situation she was unprepared for. She appeared frozen and unable to move. I stepped in front of her, close enough to block her view. Taking her by the shoulders, I attempted to turn and push her out the door.

She was rigid as a board and was not breathing.

Finally, I was able to break her free and start her moving while shaking her and telling her to breathe.

Once outside, she transitioned from not-breathing to hyperventilation. And she started to melt. Now, I was trying to hold her upright for a few seconds when she regained her composure. She straightened her clothing and without ever uttering a word or looking at me—was gone.

~~~
graphicstock-illustration-of-a-cartoon-angry-policeman-cop-_rFR6Esf2Kb_thumbYears earlier, I was working patrol. My partner Frank Isbell and I were in the station for some reason. As I passed the watch commanders office the sergeant called, “Meckle, see me.”
Yes, sergeant.
The following is the gist of that conversation:
Sergeant: Did you write a ticket to a [consulting note] Norman Williams earlier?
Me: Yes, Sergeant.
Sergeant: Did you have a problem with him?
Me: No, Sergeant.
Sergeant: He came in to complain that you called him a [consulting note again] “peragidave.”
Me: A what, Sergeant?
Sergeant: [consulting] A “peragidave or peragidive.”
Me: What’s a peragidive, Sergeant?
Sergeant: I was hoping you could tell me.
Me: Honest, Sergeant. I have no idea what he is talking about. My partner was there the whole time.
Frank has now entered the office and is standing just inside the door trying not to laugh out loud.
Sergeant: [to Frank] Well?
Frank: [shrugged] Nothing, Sarge. [smothering a laugh]
Sergeant: What?
Frank: Honest. Nothing, Sarge.
Sergeant: [to me] Did you say or do anything that would make him drive all this way to complain?
Me: All I did was write him a ticket. He wasn’t happy and said, ‘This is going to court.’ And I said, oh—
Sergeant: What, ‘oh’ what?
Me: I said, “That’s your prerogative.” Aw jeez.
Sergeant: I’m betting he didn’t understand what you said, kept repeating it to himself all the way here and it became peragidave. Do us both a favor. No more big words on the street.

Note: you can’t have laughs like that flipping burgers or bagging groceries, boys and girls.

Categories
Writer's Notes

Suspension of Disbelief: Rita Lakin

R LAKIN Book coverSuspension of Disbelief – an interview with author Rita Lakin

 

So, Rita, what drove you to write a totally unbelievable series?

Purely by accident. When I left “show biz”, I decided to finally write a novel after 25 years of churning out television scripts. I wanted to write about my mother and aunts and other relatives who retired to a condo in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. But as I started to write it, I knew it wouldn’t sell; not a novel about old people getting older. Definitely depressing. Because I was so ingrained with writing and selling “commercial,” ideas, I decided to turn them into elderly private eyes. And because my relatives were so unknowingly funny in real life, I knew it had to be a comedy. Ergo – a humorous crime series. And to my surprise, I found that I had written a parody of the PI genre.
Tell us about your characters and plots–in what ways are they unbelievable?
I realized that I didn’t have to make things up. Florida turned out to be rich in totally nonsensical craziness. For an example of the outrageous: my senior citizen characters go to the pool for their morning swim, only to find, after jumping in, a lost alligator terrifying them. True story.

Example – This made the news. A woman stopped a thief from robbing her by hitting him with her cane. Within a few weeks, “Cane Fu” shops blossomed, teaching seniors how to protect themselves with canes. True story.

So my plots were easily believingly unbelievable, and wonderfully funny. Like the case of an 86 year old woman who hires our girls to stalk her 89 year old husband to find out if he was cheating on her.

My elderly ladies on stakeout are hilarious. What with “ blankies” for comfort, cards, knitting, and enough snacks for a month. And when they need to go to the bathroom…
Picture a chase scene: the perp is driving 90 mph on the freeway; my elderly ladies are pursuing him at 35 mph on the city streets. They don’t go on the freeway. Not them. Especially at night.

The plots are funny, the characters are funny. And easy to come up with loveable “villains” like the 80 year old Grandpa bandit who robbed banks.

The alligator in the pool, Cane Fu, Grandpa bandit – All these stories were true, unbelievable as they might seem. A wealth of story material waiting to be harvested.

Your Getting Old is Murder series is still going strong. What’s up next for Gladdy and her girls?

Books eight and nine are soon to be available: GETTING OLD CAN HURT YOU and GETTING OLD WILL HAUNT YOU. In the first novel, an angry grandchild comes to wreak havoc on the condo and in the second, Gladdy and her girls deal with a most amazing client who demands they solve a murder. Funny stuff.
~~~

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAuthor Rita Lakin worked in Hollywood as a script writer and then a producer of her own shows. Some of the shows she worked on were: Peyton Place, Mod Squad and Dynasty. Lakin wrote her memoir of those years spent in that world: THE ONLY WOMAN IN THE ROOM – Episodes in My Life and Career as a Television Writer.
~~~

GETTING OLD CAN HURT YOU

Life in sunny Fort Lauderdale’s Lanai Gardens is turned upside-down when Ida’s long-lost granddaughter, Tori, gate-crashes the ladies’ deli lunch, demanding protection from men she insists are out to kill her. Determined to assist Ida and her granddaughter, Gladdy Gold’s Detective Agency is on the case.

R LAKIN Book coverBut the stubborn and secretive Tori is not easy to help, regularly sneaking off to the puzzlement of Gladdy and her girls. A series of family secrets leaves a grudge heavy in the air between Tori and Ida: will Gladdy’s gals be able to reunite the warring pair in time to figure out who the sinister men chasing Tori are?

(PUB DATE 10/1/18 SEVERN HOUSE)

GETTING OLD WILL HAUNT YOU

While the men of Lanai Gardens are off on safari, Evvie and Gladdy worry about their grumpy PI partners. The girls are bored. No cases in such a long time! So when a caller in Key West wants to hire the team to solve a murder, Gladdy says yes—maybe too quickly. The girls are thrilled. Key West: a great place to sight-see, too.

Sadly, on the day they leave, Ida is too ill to travel. Suddenly their annoying neighbor, Hy, has gone missing and Ida, feeling better, has to tackle this on her own.

Gladdy’s case is fraught with strange goings-on, a bizarre client and a murder that nobody believes happened. Meanwhile Ida has to deal with Hy’s awkward secret life. Will the girls, in each of their situations, muddle through their hilarious misadventures?

(PUB DATE 6/19 SEVERN HOUSE)

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ritalakin.com

 

 

 

 

 

Categories
Street Stories The Call Box

The Call Box: Roll Call Training

By Ed Meckle, Retired LAPD

roll call West Midlands Police
West Midlands Police, UK, briefing,

 

The LAPD has had a policy in place for eons which mandated a few minutes of daily patrol roll call to “training.” The department published material and sometimes a real effort was made to comply. Mostly however it was an afterthought.

I thought if ever given the chance, I would try something different, something interesting maybe even something useful.

Years later as a junior sergeant at 77th Street Division I had every title possible. Sort of the LAPD version of Ensign Pulver, I was not in charge of laundry and morale but I was “Roll Call Training Guy.”

None of the other sergeants, all old timers, were the least bit interested in the job. It was just as well—the lieutenant, nearing retirement, let it be known, (he did not speak to junior sergeants) that two times a week was more than enough for training, as it was all “stuff and nonsense” anyhow. Besides he never attended roll call which was handled by the senior sergeants, who could not have cared if I read the communist manifesto as long as they did not have to listen.

I said to myself, self: you think you are such a hotshot find something good.

I had a classmate, Bob Burke, working at the academy who loaned me a slide projector and dug up some really great FBI type slides. “Suspect with gun,” “suspect with gun and hostage,” “unarmed suspect,” “citizen with tool that looks like a gun,”—you get the idea. The photo lab was a gold mine for more slides, photos of weapons that didn’t look like weapons, slides of drugs, exotic burglar tools. And more.

police carNow old street cops (and the 77th was a choice assignment so it was loaded with old cops) were not too anxious to listen to some kid sergeant tell them about police work. They were polite but skeptical at first but nobody threw anything at me and after a short period they got into it. I made a game of the suspect with a gun slides.

The troops yelling, “shoot,” “don’t shoot,” took a lot of ribbing when they “shot” a civilian.
I had a friend working narcotics talk of “hype recognition,” an auto theft guy talked of VIN’s (vehicle identification numbers), etc. and the lieutenant never knew any of this.
Then the lieutenant retired, I transferred, and the program died.

Many years later the training fires still burned and as a uniformed lieutenant at Hollywood (PM)and Wilshire (days) my program came back to life. Now at Hollywood, all my sergeants were young, new and probationers, as was I. We had some brainstorming sessions and decided what we could do, what would work or not and what would be most useful. Topics demonstrated were such as: How to properly search a suspect, a room, and a car. When we pulled the rear seat on a black and white, it looked like a Columbian drug lord’s arsenal.

My all-time favorite though was as roll call ended, the troops were told to remain seated and look alive. At that moment an individual unknown to them entered the room and in a loud clear voice stated, “My name is–. I just killed–. The body is located at–.” Plus, another five items of information. He was in the room less than 20 seconds.

The troops would have one minute to answer a 10-question quiz. We added a twist by having the suspect use a color as his last name and that of the victim. He also gave the color of his vehicle. He was wearing a red and white striped shirt.

burglar-157142_960_720As he ran out he yelled, “My shirt is black.” Questions number 9 and 10 were physical description of suspect and clothing worn. Yep, some “saw” black.

As the patrol force got younger, I had probationers working with probationers. The term training officer had not yet come into existence. We tried to teach at roll call what they should have learned on the street.

See now: south/east/even/north/odd/west for addresses, palm print on the trunk, no-yes/no answers, was the 459 (burglary) amateur or pro? Bugs on rear plate, etc.

Over the years I grew weary of writing 15.7’s (memos) proposing a permanent 2-3-person cadre traveling roll call to roll call doing a much better job with scenarios than we did. It never happened and then I was gone.

Categories
Writer's Notes

Suspension of Disbelief: D.R. Ransdell

perf5.000x8.000.inddDanger and Melancholy in the Half-Fictional World

By D.R. Ransdell

I’ve always loved reading and writing fiction, never non-fiction. Why are so many of us drawn to the novel? I’m convinced it boils down to the willingness to suspend disbelief. For the sake of enjoyment, we’re willing to enter the world of the story and stay there for the duration.

Yet that unreal world must be believable. As a writer I play with the fact/fiction blur. I use people I know to create characters. Why not start from scratch? Somehow I assume that if I start with the real and add the unreal, the end result will be just right. Thus the protagonist that kicks off my murder mystery series in Mariachi Meddler is a composite of key mariachi players I’ve worked with. Andy Veracruz has their winning characteristics—and some of their worst habits. In his own way, he’s perfect!

When I started Island Casualty, though, I dug deeper into my past. Not only did I base a central character on a cherished former roommate, but I based the love interest on a guy I’d met briefly and imagined extensively. I called him Hari in the book, but I’d met the real-life version on my first trip to Greece during an all-night singalong from Brindisi to Athens. When Drossos and I found out that we shared a common language of Italian, we couldn’t stop talking. And thanks to his invitation to Kálymnos, we didn’t have to. For five of the most wonderful days ever, I was a guest on a Greek island.

When I needed a romantic Greek hero for my novel, I had one readymade. As I wrote, I was under a Hellenic spell of remembering lovely nights I’d spent listening to bouzouki bands or swimming in the moonlight. In chapter after chapter, I relived my magical vacation and fantasized about a man I would never see again. Who knows what became of him?

Last week I attended the Greek festival in Tucson, the musicians, flown in from L.A., played very well. The bouzouki player’s fingers flashed up and down the instrument while the keyboardist sang haunting lyrics to island rhythms. Yet the music made me depressingly nostalgic as I automatically thought about Drossos-turned-fictional-Hari. I’d been so effective in creating my own world out of the fabric of my life that—well, I overdid it. I made the fictional so present that I was practically in tears.

What’s the moral of the story? It’s great to suspend disbelief. And it’s probably a good writing technique to blend the fictional with the real. But writers ought to be careful not to take themselves or their characters too seriously. Otherwise they’ll be pining over the lost opportunities they never had in the first place! They’ll be lost in their own worlds to the point that they’ll ignore opportunities in the worlds they’re living in. Funny, huh?
But for the readers, the situation is win-win. All they have to do is suspend their disbelief a tiny bit, and they’ll get the full experience. They won’t even need to be melancholy. Opa!
D R RansdellAbout the Author:

D.R. Ransdell writes from Tucson, Arizona, where she enjoys good swimming weather most of the year. During the school season she teaches composition to international students at the University of Arizona. She also moonlights in a mariachi band, which gives her plenty of ideas for murder victims. When vacation starts, she hits the road, leaving behind several mischievous cats. One of her favorite travel destinations is Greece, where each island offers a new favorite beach and she can spend long nights listening to bouzouki music.
Buy links:

Amazon link: http://mybook.to/islandcasualty2
B & N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/island-casualty-d-r-ransdell/1120979158?ean=9781938436307
Blurb:

A lost engagement ring, whizzing bullets, and a midnight Vespa ride add up to a terrible vacation! When Andy Veracruz flies to Greece for a holiday, the California native expects to spend afternoons swimming and nights making love. But at an outdoor café, he meets a fellow traveler who accidentally leaves behind a package. Before Andy can return it, the man disappears. Andy tries to enjoy the rest of his vacation, but he realizes that he’s not safe anywhere on the island. While he’s around, his friends aren’t safe either! He vows not to take any more vacations, but how can he uncover the truth so that he can make his escape?