Daily Archives: July 15, 2010

Randy Ford Author- A PRINCE Fourth Novel 11th Installment

      Her mother was a small woman with plump lips.   Shelly’s own eyes drooped.   Her skin had brown blotches on it.   What happened to her?   She could see that she was shriveling up to almost nothing.

       “Do you have any idea why my mama never liked you?”   Shelly asked, glaring at Charlie who sat at the table.

      “Why bring that up?” Charlie asked.

      Her mother rarely tolerated nonsense and considered her daughter’s infatuation with Charlie ridiculous.   They belonged to a country club; yet Shelly’s mother hated golf, had no use for tennis, never played squash or swam.    She rarely exercised.    Yet she wouldn’t talk to people who didn’t belong to the country club.   ”Never forget who you are.   Hold onto that.”   As a girl Shelly had that drummed into her head.   She hated it.

      Courage.

      “Enough crying,” Shelly said to herself.   “You better sit down with Charlie and give him a chance.   He prefers men, homeless men.   I pity a man who’s staked his whole life on the draw of a card.   Not to mention that he’s throwing our money away.   Maybe I should remind him that this is a community property state. That means that I should have some say.   His heart’s in the right place, and he’s far from stupid.   He’s willing to help anyone; as everyone knows he’s always doing something for the homeless.   It’s crime to despise him.   We can’t have children.   Maybe having children would’ve made a difference.”

      “Shelly, you’re always crying,” Charlie said.

      “We’ve never even had a decent fight.   To see us sit in silence is a pitiful sight.   As if to complete the picture, whenever we stopped you’d get out and I’d just sit there like a sphinx.”

      “I find you sexy.”

      “Sexy?   Thanks.   God knows I want to be sexy.   To say I’m sexy is a compliment.   I’m glad I haven’t frightened you off.   I like to wear neat cotton dresses.   Do you find them sexy?   And when I’m overcome with confusion, is that sexy?   How about the blotches on my face?   Or when I’m pouting?   When I’m scared?   Ashamed?   I’m glad you find me sexy.”

    “I like the way you wiggle when you walk.”

      “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

      “My feelings?   My feelings weren’t hurt.”

      “Why wouldn’t you get out of the car?”

     It seemed as if she had never loved him.

      Courage.

      On the day Charlie first came to her home Shelly and her mother had a big argument.   It seemed their argument influenced Shelly.   Well, perhaps. Precisely….

      “I was trying to avoid a headache.”   She laughed and continued talking.   ”You know Mama has forgiven you by degrees.   ‘He isn’t all that bad,’ she said.   ‘But if only he’d get a haircut.’   ‘Mama!’”   Laughing, she continued, “Do you remember coming to dinner and how nervous you were about meeting my parents?”

      “I vaguely remember that and that you were in pigtails.”

      “You were very polite.”

      “Rudeness fit me better.”

      “Why you were the perfect gentleman.   They didn’t expect it.”

     “You bring this up all the time, as if you wanted something different.”

      “I hate you,” observed Shelly, as she placed the peanut butter back in the fridge.   “Are we missing something?”

      “No, not that I know of.”

      Courage.

      “Our genes are good.   Of course they are.”

      “That’s nonsense, mama.”

      Yes, and without saying anything Shelly’s mother acted superior.

      Courage.

      The whole family received Charlie in a brightly lit dinning room, but Shelly’s mother found no confront in what she saw (seeing her daughter hold hands with a long-haired hippie disturbed her the most), and she smiled until it drove her husband batty.   What was hidden in that tortured soul?   God only knew because she always smiled around Charlie.

      Their house offered a perfect view of the lake and because of trees offered privacy.   The magnificent house couldn’t be seen from the boulevard.   Over the years the house didn’t changed, only the foliage around it grew thicker.   Her father’s business kept them supplied with new cars.

      Was Shelly desperate?

      “Do you think she was?” her mother asked.

      Courage.

      “Honey, tell me again where you were born and where you grew up.”   Shelly’s demand startled Charlie.   To learn that she then shared some of her mother’s feelings about him would’ve startled him more.   “There has to be something about you that I don’t know.”

     While eating Charlie began telling her things about himself that she obviously knew.   They compared facts about each other.

      “Remember our house?” she asked.   The house with the curved drive.

     “No.”

      “My mother’s hot chocolate?   Mother’s sewing?   Bridge night?   Piano and songs?   Twin painted pictures of ships…never finished any of them.   A television-dominated room.   No conversation, only the television.   A large two-story lakefront home, in the wintertime, by the fire, watching television.   Playing cards, or playing the piano, or singing.   Couldn’t stand it.”

      “You know that it impressed me: the crystal chandelier and all. “

       “You didn’t talk much.”

      “Anyhow I was impressed,” replied Charlie.   “But that was a long time ago.”

      “And I’m Methuselah’s wife.”

      “Traveling across the country, passing through Cleveland, dirty and hungry, almost anything would’ve looked good.   A series of breakdowns…painful separations… itchy feet…jumped in my Volkswagen bus and lost myself in my driving…you know the story.”

      “Three or four nights in a row spent trying to stay warm in a goose down sleeping bag that had lost its loft.”

      “Looking for warmth and went into a Laundromat to find it.   Unbearable loneliness, bewilderment and uncomfortable.   I would’ve talked to anyone. Cleveland seemed the same as a foreign country to me.   Then I saw you.   I mean I didn’t really see you.”

      “We didn’t meet in a Laundromat.”

      “I’ve a fondness for Laundromats.   People talk more freely there.

      “And I smelled you coming,” declared Shelly.   The two began to laugh. Charlie laughed the loudest.

      “My folks and I always fought.   They were stupid, stingy, and miserable.”

      “Why o’ why have I always believed that crap?” laughed Charlie.   “Still I prefer Laundromats, the smell of Cheer.”

      “And are you useful, Charlie?   Are you worth the trouble?” quizzed Shelly.   They both laughed again.

      “Loneliness revisited again,” he exclaimed.

       And he went on laughing.

      “But I seized a good thing,” said Shelly with renewed vigor.   ”I seized it and squeezed it.   And squeezed it.   That’s how I’ve survived.   Sometimes, Charlie, you frighten me.   Thank you, Charlie. Laundromats, that’s where your heart was.”

     “It was a passion.”

     Shelley then said, “George saw my sadness.”

     Courage.

      “Travel always depressed me.”

      “You didn’t know how to hold a conversation,” said Shelly.   “Why don’t we travel anymore?”

      “You know the reasons.”

      “I thought I knew how to stay true to myself.   Live in a special place with a special man.   Opportunity.   A long, long ways out there, barely visible, there was a buoy to hang onto.   And all around me a sense of nothing, a void, emptiness, stillness.   You were my lifeboat.   I couldn’t imagine a land without grass.”

      “I couldn’t either,” said Charlie.

      Randy Ford

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Curt Stubbs Poet- THOUGHTS ABOUT TREES AND WATER

      THOUGHTS ABOUT TREES AND WATER

      I live in the desert. 

      Large trees that loom

      over the road, hiding

      the sky and casting

      elongated shadows

      across the ground

      make me paranold. 

      I never know what or who’s

      going to jump out

     of the darkness to atack me. 

      Give me good old Palo Verde,

      Mesquite and palm trees. 

      There is something to be said

      for open greenery. 

      I live in the desert.

      Rivers with water

      running in them are a nice idea,

      but I don’t think it will ever catch on. 

      Everyone knows water

      belongs in swimming pools. 

      Curt Stubbs 

      3880 N. Park  Apt. A

      Tucson, Az 85719

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Arizona Book Publishing Association- Summer Field Trip Explore the Library Market

       July 29: ABPA: Join us for our summer Field Trip and jump into the library
market

      This month take a field trip to Burton Barr Central Library in downtown
Phoenix where you’ll travel back to the time of Shakespeare on a private
tour of the Rare Book Room, and you will¬-in the present day¬-find out how
publishers and authors should approach libraries to sell their books.

How to Market to Libraries
    Kathleen Sullivan, Manager for Collection Development, will explain how
libraries purchase materials and how you, as the author or publisher, can
maximize your chances of being placed in a library’s collection.   The Burton
Barr Central Library encompasses 280,000 square feet on five levels and
holds 705,700 items in its collection.

Time Travel at the Library
    Discover rare illuminated manuscripts, see the second folio of
Shakespeare, and glimpse cuneiform tablets from Mesopotamia that are 4,000
years old on a special tour of the Rare Book Room.   Gladys Mahoney, librarian
for the Rare Book Room, will lead the private tour.

    Kathleen Sullivan has worked in public libraries for 40 years.   Her
primary responsibility has been as a collection management specialist.
Currently, she is the Collection Development Coordinator for the Phoenix
Public Library where she oversees the expenditure of a $5 million budget.
She is passionate about all aspects of her job and is particularly
interested in how customers use the collection.

    A 4th generation Arizonan and native of Phoenix, Rare Book librarian,
Gladys Mahoney spent her youth in West Africa and Italy and graduated from
University of California at Los Angeles and the University of Southern
California.   For the past 19 years, she has worked with the rare book and
book art collections, facilitated a printing group with the 19th-century
Washington Press in the room, and had the privilege of introducing the
public to the treasures in this room.

Meeting Format
    We’ll meet at Zoës Kitchen for lunch first, then go to the library for
our Rare Book Room tour and to hear inside information from Kathleen.

Start at: Zoës Kitchen, 521 W. McDowell Rd., Phoenix, AZ 85003; Burton Barr
Central Library, 1221 N Central Ave., Phoenix, AZ 85004

Directions: from Zoës Kitchen travel east on McDowell Rd. Cross Central
Ave., then turn south (right) on First Street. Drive one block south.   At
Willetta, you will see the driveway into the library parking lot.   Note: When
you leave Zoës Kitchen, do not turn south onto Central as you cannot turn
into the library from the southbound lane on Central.

Program (includes lunch) 11:30 a.m.–2:00 p.m.
Early Registration (by July 23): $25 members $35 non-members
Late and at the door: $35 member $45 non-members
Advance payment is required for registration; no refunds after July 23,
2010.

Register now!
http://azbookpub.com/abpa-education/july-29/

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University of Arizona Poetry Center- NEW BOOKS BY LOCAL AUTHORS

      A glimpse into process, inspiration
    It’s no secret that Tucson is chock-full of talented writers.   We’ve asked a few of these writers with recently published works to share a little about their process and inspiration. Read the words of Stephanie Balzer, Arianne Zwartjes, and Jefferson Carter, and then stop into the Poetry Center to read the books themselves.

Read the books or for more inforation go to:  poetnews@email.arizona.edu

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