Little Ahmed The Stalking Horse

Posted on by

Let’s play a memory game. Do you remember (if you’re of a certain age) when wearing jeans to an office job was totally unacceptable? No jeans. Nada. Ah, good. You do remember. Then someone, probably the most beautiful woman in the office, or the hottest guy, wore a pair of designer jeans and while they got some dirty looks, nobody said a thing.

A month goes by, and then Joe (the beefy guy in the creative writing office) wore a pair of clean, brand new, spiffy jeans from the local Fleet Farm. And nobody said a word because others were wearing jeans and while Joe’s weren’t designer jeans, they were brand new. And nobody had said a word to the first person, or the second, or the most recent one to wear designer jeans. Besides, they thought in office unison, Joe’s too poor to afford the good stuff and he’s never had any fashion sense. Let it go.

Fast forward 20 years and look at that same office. Ewww. Gladys, who has spent a lot of time in drive-through-lanes, but never even been in a gym, much less done hot yoga, is wearing white yoga pants this morning. Again. Same pair, three days this week. Let’s just say that she is a messy eater and leaves stains. Not a pleasant sight. But she’s no worse than Emile who has pre-stressed jeans on that reveal a great deal about her interest in the band Phish and her eclectic tattoo art, a great deal of which is visible through the rips and tears – along with other things.

Please follow me on Twitter, and “Like” the Facebook author page. Don’t forget to subscribe (the box is on the right side of the page) to be eligible for free e-books and other benefits!

In an idyllically selected choice of words, does anyone remember who let the camel’s nose in under the tent? That, by the way, is an allusion to the proclivity of camels to look under the tent, and then uproot the whole thing when they force their way in to the tent. Nope, nobody remembers that it was Sue with the Marithe & Francois Girbaud jeans in 1992 who led the parade. They were so happy that she was wearing anything but the exploding Grunge look that they looked the other way.

Thus we have little Ahmed. Who built a clock and got arrested. Silly racist school officials and cops. Keeping the Muslim-American population down. He deserves to be invited to the White House. Scholarship to MIT? Nothing is too good for this nerdy wunderkind with his steely determination to do well in school. Or to cheat and put a commercially available piece of electronic gear from Radio Shack into another box and pass it off as his own work. In writing, we call that plagiarism. In the world of terrorism and identity politics, we call that a stalking horse. Watch the nice little video and see what I mean.

So Ahmed does his little dance with the fake science project. Who cares? Me. First of all, one look at the picture and I knew it was a scam. How? I’ve put together projects like that for a grade in college. I have that degree in computer science and all, but they wanted to make sure I could do basic electronics. I still have the volt-ohm meter and the soldering iron that I used to make sure the stuff worked.

The soldering was done by a machine. There was an alternating current transformer. No high school teacher would assign ac power to a project when you can use batteries. If they did, the superintendent would have them on the rug for liability issues. Nope, they’d use a battery powered method. Oh, and this little Ahmed was so smart that he included a battery backup just like you’d use in a commercial product so your stupid clock wakes you up in the morning if the power goes out for an hour at night while you’re sleeping. In the style of Foghorn Leghorn, “The boy’s a genius!”

Or, he’s just part of a plan, very long term, to make people uncomfortable questioning any kid from the religion of submission about their motives and methods when the thing looks like a bomb. No, the evil head of the caliphate isn’t bugging my house, nor is he in phone contact with this kid. But a culture, a movement, a plan can be there and we’d never know it if we aren’t aware of the potential. I’d have to wonder why a timing device like this was in a little case. I’d wonder what it was supposed to trigger. But I’m a bit paranoid.

Thank God our esteemed apologist in chief isn’t reluctant to invite little Ahmed to show his cool (plagiarized) clock to the adoring throngs at the White House. Regardless of what you think of Barrack Obama, wouldn’t you wonder just a bit about his lack of advisors that could point out this very basic set of technology issues? Trust me, if GWB had fallen for this bit of theater, they’d be on him like – well, that analogy is for another day.

The moral of the story is that every time one of these things happens, the weaker minds in our midst back further away from confronting threats. Ahmed’s clock represents a threat. One starter for a model rocket, some gunpowder from his cousin Hassan’s dad’s shotgun, and a six inch length of pipe turn this clock into a bomb. Don’t believe me? I’ll build you one in under three minutes if you bring me the ingredients and then you try to enter the local federal building with the package. I’ll even spot you the starter and the gunpowder not being there. Just run the wires into a length of pipe and see the reaction.

I may even come to your funeral. I’m always happy when the gene pool gets skimmed for debris.

********* ********** *********** ***********

I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Genesis Winner, 2015. Mystery/Suspense/Thriller for Assault on Saint Agnes.

Posted on by

This past week I was honored to win the Genesis Contest in the Mystery/Suspense/Thriller category for my novel, Assault on Saint Agnes. I was an overnight success after a mere 5 years of working on the book. Seriously, it has been a great experience and I am humbled to win the award.

Genesis trophy

Genesis trophy


Please follow me on Twitter, and “Like” the Facebook author page. Don’t forget to subscribe (the box is on the right side of the page) to be eligible for free e-books and other benefits!

Because these contests take a very long time to judge, and a lot of things can happen during them, I have been prohibited from talking about the book since I sent the entry in to the contest to avoid a judge linking my name to the book. They are judged anonymously. It killed me to keep my mouth shut. So, Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooopeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!111!!11!!1!111. Etc.

Christian fiction is a strange bird in some ways. We compete, but do it in a more-or-less healthy manner. I had the privilege to read both of my final round competitors’ novels before the contest. They were gracious enough to send me a copy of the manuscript, and I sent mine to them. With that in mind, I would like to thank both Janice Boekhoff and Don Brobst for sharing their works. Any one of the three books would have been a worthy winner with a good story to tell. I am very blessed, in that both are fine people as well. I have met them both, and Donald is actually a friend of mine. I wish them both great success in their future writing! I’ve linked their blogs above. Please visit their websites.

Did I mention that while I was writing this Donald announced he’s got a publisher for his book and it’s due out in 2016? Way to go, Dr. Brobst!

I gave a very nice speech at the banquet, and managed to thank a lot of people. But I saw the bouncers coming and had to skip a few that deserve my thanks.

Before I deliver those additional thanks, I have some very sage and completely free advice for the writers who attend any conference and are stunned by what they hear the experts say in class, are unpublished, unagented, fearful, and pitching to editors and agents in hopes that they get that first big break.

The advice comes in pieces. Here we go. (Warning notice: I’ve been told I’m a bit of a heretic so be forewarned that these are only my opinions and do not represent anyone else, any organization, or association in Christian writing other than the lunatic at the keyboard.)

Nobody knows everything. For every agent/publisher/teacher that tells you that your work/idea/concept/manuscript is a raging river of rancid rat renderings, there is likely another who secretly wishes someone would finally write a book about an alcoholic bartender from Atlanta who falls in love with a former stripper in Connecticut. The plot goes that the two of them fall in love at an AA meeting and find a life together because they have similar issues, and they are both Christians who let God guide their lives since they’ve been redeemed. Love blossoms, no explicit sexual content, and no bad language. The agent/publisher/teacher tells you that it will only work if you make the protagonists a chaste pair from Lancaster who just happen to both be named Yoder, and meet at a barn raising. They eat organic apple pie. And have funny neighbors and farm animals they talk to like the children they are planning on having once they are financially stable.

I’m willing to bet there are lots more bartenders and former strippers who have accepted Christ than you would imagine. Wouldn’t it be nice to write a book that comforts/entices/entertains those of us with pasts we’re not all that proud of? (I’ll get docked for that last grammatical item…) Is your story engaging and ultimately moral? Does it provide entertainment that shows we are all redeemed by the Blood of Jesus? Don’t let your story get ruined by keeping inside that box. Don’t let someone who doesn’t want you lessen your worth as an author.

Point of fact: if you’ve written anything longer than a paragraph that’s intended for others to enjoy at some point, you’re an author. You are not an aspiring author. You may be an unpublished author (me) or a bad author… well, no fingers pointed there, thankfully. But you are an author. That includes those of you who haven’t finished your manuscript. It includes the guy who just puts out a funny blog. I’m going to go out on a limb and include the people who write epic Facebook posts that get passed around over and over.

Don’t hide your light under a basket. I know one author who writes on the edge of the Christian market and took a huge blow from a “professional” when they presented the concept and work at the conference. This person was so flattened by the verdict rendered by someone they idolized that they rushed to their room, redid their proposal/one page and then hurried back for the next appointment. That appointment loved the original pitch material. Uh, really? Yes. I refer to the stripper and the bartender above. It’s all a matter of what you like.

I like smart-alec humor, Swedish novelists, violent action thrillers, and speculative works. I also like an awful lot of what is being published in the Christian market today. We have some excellent authors. Strangely, I seem to like the edgier ones better than the ones who play by all the rules. You see, I identify with people who struggle to make it through every day. I’m one of them.

Don’t be discouraged. Write some more. If you can’t get published, can’t get an agent, can’t get the dog to look at your face when you read this out-loud to her, you may need to work on basic skills. Write crisp sentences. Engage the reader. Jeff Gerke tells one and all: DON’T BE BORING! (He didn’t use caps, but his voice was really loud when he said this to us.) Don’t dump back story. As a matter of fact, read Jeff’s most recent book, upon which he based the class I took this weekend, The Irresistible Novel. I am planning on reading it, but I think Jeff gave the good stuff away at the conference so I have a day or two before I must come up with the money.

Last wisdom nugget/road apple for the day: Ask God. If you really don’t know where to go with your writing, ask Him. He knows the real rules, He knows our hearts, He knows what you’re supposed to be doing. I trust Him much more than someone I meet for three days at a conference. After all, don’t most of us talk to Him every day? Be of good cheer. Read those craft books everyone was talking about (My favorite is Writing The Breakout Novel by Donald Maass. You have to read the whole thing and then swallow your pride. But it’s a heck of a starting point.)

************** ****************** ********************

Now, we return to thanking people following the blog hosts little rant.

First: the judges. Wow. I cannot imagine reading all of those submissions, scoring them, including comments, and getting it done under the time restraints. The work was superb – and not because I won. I got very good feedback, great comments, and I would consider one of the judges for a paid gig editing my next book – incredibly insightful comments!

Second: my victims. I mean my legion of beta readers. I have inflicted some of the raw swill on these willing victims and they have been brave enough to give me honest answers. Great guidance. Powerful encouragement. Many of them were people I’ve never met outside of Facebook. This group also includes my long-suffering coworkers. I am bringing cookies in this week to apologize for bending your ears about people that don’t even exist outside of my slightly bent (maybe more) brain.

My wife. I mean, she puts up with me? Sainthood in a short instant.

To all those who have played a part in this victory: I thank you.

Now it’s up to some lucky publisher to contact me, hand over the cash, and publish this thing as quickly as possible.

Let’s just say that there’s been a knock at the door but we haven’t handed out any roses. Yeah, I hang out with romance writers too often.

Be encouraged, authors. You just have to work hard and take some kicks to the teeth to perfect that smile I’m wearing tonight.

********* ********** *********** ***********

I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

How Does Your Restaurant Get Reviewed On This Blog?

Posted on by

I’m often asked that question. I always respond – well, nobody has ever asked me that question. But if they did, I’d probably tell them all of the things below the next paragraph.

Please follow me on Twitter, and “Like” the Facebook author page. Don’t forget to subscribe (the box is on the right side of the page) to be eligible for free e-books and other benefits!

First, be open. I’ve gone places to do a review and they’re closed. Don’t you watch Gordon Ramsay, anything on CNBC, or one of dozens of shows that talk about restaurant business? You have to be open to have me come in and eat.

Now that the basic door deal is over, I have a simple guideline for doing any review on this blog: nothing less than 4 out of 5 stars. Books, music, movies, restaurants, or products I purchase. I never want some idiot quacking about how horrible my blog or books are (they are coming, I promise) when it’s a matter of taste. I don’t like certain things, and so unless it really strikes me as well done, I don’t go after it on the blog. That means I read, eat, visit, watch, buy a lot of things that never make it to this page, but are under consideration for some period. It’s simply a variation on the whole “if you can’t say something nice…” concept.

Have clean bathrooms with toilet lids that are permanently affixed. I check that stuff. Not in the ladies room – screaming bothers me. But if you have a dirty bathroom, or a broken john, it’s likely to be your death rattle. Same thing if I see staff coming out with dry hands and a dry sink. Yuck.

Pretend my business matters. I’m amazed at the number of servers and counter people who don’t seem to see my 350 pound bulk standing right there, or seated at a table. I, as a customer, should not have to wait while you finish your texting. I put the phone down when you come to my table, or apologize profusely for having to take a business call. I generally go outside if my phone rings, so it’s rare. Seems that’s not the case for servers.

Lights. There should be enough light to see the menu. Amazing when there isn’t.

Menus. Flyspecked is not a good motif. Clean them, replace them, update them.

“We’re out.” Unless it’s the special of the day, I never want to hear that phrase. Especially for something like rice in a Mexican restaurant.

When I ask how something is made, tell me the truth. “Yes, we bring it in from a bakery.” See, that wasn’t so hard. Lie to me and get caught, you’ll never see me again.

Use spices. Even in vanilla ice cream, there must be flavor. When you do the classic Minnesota “we dare not offend anyone with flavors” thing, I figure you don’t know how to cook. Invest in cooking with spices. Lars may not like it, but he’s not likely to be in your seafood restaurant anyway. The fish fry at the Lutheran church is more his speed.

Don’t let my soda/water run dry, double for coffee. If I’m thirsty, I’m suddenly looking for my check.

Don’t miss the opportunity to tell me about the special. Or your deserts. Or your favorite. Up-sell me. Make me aware of all the neat things you have on offer. If I have to ask, don’t look like I questioned your parental validity. You are being given a second chance. If you vanish for ten minutes to find out if they really do have caramelized persimmons, I will hand you the visa card when you get back. That’s a yes/no deal. Your only forgiveness for the delay will be the following phrase: “We were out, but Chef is making some just for you right now, and I’ve put on a fresh pot of coffee. I’m sorry for the delay.” You don’t have to comp me the desert, but explain the delay. When you wander back and say, “Nah. We’re out.” ten minutes later, you are indeed out.

Please, please don’t make me wait for my check. At least one pretty good review died on the host stand when my check took fifteen minutes during a very slow night at the venue.

Smile. I know that’s a lot some days. I’m not being sarcastic. Some days you just don’t feel it. But at least give me a hint of a smile when you greet me. I’m not looking for seduction, merely a facial expression other than the one seen in dialysis clinics.

There you go. Obviously the food has to be pretty good, but more than anything your major hurdles are listed above. Not that tough in my opinion, but I’m a bit of a loon.

More reviews coming soon. Today’s didn’t work out after a promising start. Like school, you might ace the midterm, but if you blow the homework and the final, you’re not getting an “A” from teacher.

********* ********** *********** ***********

I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

I May Have To Call In Sick Today: Longmire Returns

Posted on by

Before I do this thing, I have to chuckle for a moment. I post some controversial stuff from time to time on this blog. I’m not shy about offending people. I did, however, find it interesting that my Facebook followers dropped after I post a nice tribute to Martin Milner. Who, in the name of God, would be offended by that post? I’m guessing that today’s post will drive off their friends as well. So be it.

Please follow me on Twitter, and “Like” the Facebook author page. Don’t forget to subscribe (the box is on the right side of the page) to be eligible for free e-books and other benefits!

My boss may wonder why I’m calling in sick today after having an entire week off from work. Simple: Season four of Longmire is available on Netflix, and I plan to binge watch them. Yes, pretzels, chicken, soda, and ice cream are all laid in and ready to go. Here’s the trailer:

For those of you unfamiliar with the show, it’s some of the best writing on television. Craig Johnson is the author of the series of books that inspired the television show. A&E Network foolishly let it go a year ago for the best reason of all: it didn’t appeal to the target demographic.

For those outside the television world, that means that old farts like me watched the show instead of young farts who will buy stuff and keep on buying it for the rest of their lives. It is a proven concept in advertising that if you get them young enough you keep the for a lifetime. I know I regularly haul home huge quantities of Tang and Space Food Sticks. I also buy… well, fact of the matter is that the theory only applies to some people. I have changed my tastes quite a bit since I was in the prime 18-35 demographic.

I have more money now. I buy better stuff now. I subscribe to Netflix now. I guess that may result in some loss of revenue for the folks at A&E but they’ll no doubt soon roll out a very revealing show on Mexican wrestling groups in Nova Scotia. I understand it’s quite the reality series. No doubt much better than Longmire.

Sorry for the Rick Roll. I can’t help myself. You see, I have to get to bed so I can be ready for Longmire when it comes out at Midnight. I think that’s when… I’ll find out.

In the meantime, why don’t you saunter over to the Red Pony and have a beer. Tell Henry Standing Bear to put it on my tab.

Later.

********* ********** *********** ***********

I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Martin Milner R.I.P. You Changed My Life. One Adam-12, End Of Watch. Godspeed, Martin.

Posted on by

It’s not often that I have a moment like this. Tears in my eyes and a flood of memories about a fictional television character tearing at my insides. But today is a day for mourning and sadness. Martin Milner passed away this weekend.

Martin Milner a.k.a. Pete Malloy

Martin Milner a.k.a. Pete Malloy

Please follow me on Twitter, and “Like” the Facebook author page. Don’t forget to subscribe (the box is on the right side of the page) to be eligible for free e-books and other benefits!

As a little boy growing up in the sixties, I didn’t miss an episode of Adam-12 (WARNING: Auto-play sound). Not one. Every week it was part of my life. I loved the stories. I loved the action. I loved the characters. They were people I admired. I grew up in a neighborhood full of cops, and those guys on the television were my heroes and friends. I wanted to be like them one day. I got to live that dream.

The dream was better than reality, but Martin Milner (as Pete Malloy) was the role model for me. Handsome, fair, kind, … well, he had it all. I never lived up to the role model, but I think that each of us could do a little bit better in our lives if we emulated officer Pete Malloy.

Two years ago I went on a quest to watch every Adam-12 and Dragnet. Over the course of the months I discovered that my memories were spot-on about the comportment of these men in the series. I didn’t watch them because they were a part of forming me as a youth, but as a writer I suspected that the 30 minute frame would provide some insight to moving a story along.

I got more than I bargained for in both shows. But the take-away was similar, perhaps a bit stronger with Adam-12 as it played out on the streets versus in the detective squad room. Here’s what I learned:

For it’s time, Adam-12 was far more ethnically diverse than other shows on television. It also featured many characters with physical limitations and mental health problems. In every case the characters were dealt with with respect. Malloy (for Martin Milner will always be Malloy to me) went out of his way to teach the rookie that people were individuals and he refused to group them.

Policing was a servant task. More than once the role of the officers was not as enforcer of the law but doer of good deeds. In particular, making sure that their informants were keeping healthy and staying out of trouble. Going the extra couple of yards that might turn a life around. And providing gifts for little kids on Christmas.

Children were treasured. Malloy was a tender man without children of his own. But the hurt and anguish were palpable when a child was hurt. He was their guardian and he knew it.

Brotherhood. All of the officers were there for each other. Skin color, age, and gender were not factors. You were blue. It didn’t mean that they covered up for bad cops, or concealed their own mistakes. Part of it was taking your lumps so as not to tarnish the brotherhood.

God has a role. It is probably because of my faith, but God clearly had a role in the lives of the people in this series. Malloy never got on his knees and spun a rosary, but there was something there that told me he was a man of faith.

The right thing is the right thing, even when it costs extra. This is the hardest lesson from the series for the simple reason that it takes a chunk out of you when it happens. Cutting corners, cheating, lying, all of it is for naught. At the end of the day you have to live your life one way, and one way only. If not, you’re not in the next episode.

Loyalty. Not in the scripts, but in the casting. Jack Webb was loyal to his ensemble. A character was a witness this week, a criminal next week, and three months later a victim. He kept his friends and older actors/actresses working. Lots of roles in his shows for people who wouldn’t get the time of day in modern television. I admire that in Mr. Webb.

I’m sure that some will say that I live in a dream world still. Perhaps. But Mr. Milner shaped that world, and the man I became. I’m not Pete Malloy, but I would be proud to think that people see some of those traits in me. I can honestly say that his performance helped make me the man I am today.

Thank you, Martin Milner. You will be missed.

********* ********** *********** ***********

I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.