Here's the gist of an article from Yahoo's Odd News that should interest writers particularly. It has been edited by yours truly: A federal appeals court is keeping a lawsuit alive in which dairy drivers are seeking more than $10 million in overtime pay. It concerns a Maine law that states overtime compensation doesn't apply to the "canning, processing, preserving, freezing, drying, marketing, storing, packing for shipment or distribution of" foods. The basis of the suit is the fact that there's no Oxford, or serial, comma after the word "shipping," which lawyers claim means "packing for distribution" and not simply general "distribution." The court sided with the drivers. I guess the spirit of the law doesn't matter in this case. I imagine that across the nation lawyers are combing legislation for such loopholes, and chances are they will be found.
The weather finally moderated, which led to a dilemma - did I dare move my car from its parking spot? Since my usual book nook, which gets about only two hours of sun per day, is iced over, I would have blocked pedestrian traffic if I'd set up shop there. It wasn't a difficult decision, especially since the forecast calls for a mix of rain and snow tomorrow. After three days on the shelf, I couldn't let such a beautiful day pass without selling books. Two-fifths of the space in front of the Chase bank at Bay Parkway & 84th was lost to a pile of snow. That left room for only three vehicles. Fortunately, a van pulled away from the lead spot within 15 minutes of my arrival. Although the alternate side regulation was suspended, meter rules applied. I used my NetSpend debit card, which now holds about a third of my income tax refund. I've used a lot of it at that device, which I don't trust enough to use a real credit or debit card. The thing doesn't even take quarters, which frustrates the hell out of people. Anyway, in my mind, I'm using free money. That spot is bathed by the sun practically the entire day. The frozen snow had softened considerably. I shoveled out a long swath for my display, and lanes on either side of it so no one would complain I was blocking the sidewalk. It was warm enough so that I didn't need my winter coat. A teenage girl immediately made the gamble worth it, selecting a large hardcover book on science. Then flame-haired Natasha came along and overpaid for two thrillers. That covered the pizza I planned to buy for supper. At my recommendation, Johnny bought The Five Fingers by Gayle Rivers and James Hudson, a Vietnam War saga I'd recently read. He'd just purchased a metal shovel. His car had been hemmed in by the work of the snowplows. As soon as he left, a huge SUV pulled up. As the young mom was pulling her toddler daughter from the back seat, she noticed the display. Ten minutes later she returned with her mom, speaking Spanish. She pointed out my picture on the back of A Hitch in Twilight. I doffed my glasses and said: "Aqui esta." She bought it. Then Bad News Billy showed and gave me a St. Patrick's Day gift. He's half Irish. My sincerest thanks to these kind folks. When I returned to E. 13th, there were no open spots, of course. I shoveled away the slush at the first stretch near the corner on the right hand side and backed my Hyundai into it. The passenger side wheels are about a foot higher than those of the driver side. My plastic shovel couldn't make a dent in that long block of ice. Still, it beat driving around like an idiot, hoping someone would pull out of a better option.
Vic's Sixth novel: http://tinyurl.com/zpuhucj
Vic's Short Works: http://tinyurl.com/jy55pzc
Vic's 5th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/okxkwh5
Vic's 4th novel: tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Short Story Collection:http:// tinyurl.com/lh2tepa
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Website: http://vicfortezzaauthor.my-free.website/
FB: https://www.facebook.com/Vic-Fortezza-Author-118397641564801/?fref=ts
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Friday, March 17, 2017
Thursday, March 16, 2017
The Writer's Life 3/16 - DMV Blues
I left the apartment at 10:25 AM on my way to the DMV in Coney Island, about a half-hour walk. I refused to leave the spot my Hyundai was in, as the piles of snow are making parking even more difficult than usual. My license needed renewal. I tried to anticipate any roadblocks the bureaucrats might throw my way, knowing Murphy's Law often applies, despite the improvements made in the process. I even brought proof my car had been inspected, although I was sure I was over-thinking. Things looked good for a while. I was in line for only a half-hour or so. I handed my papers to the slim, attractive woman at the counter, who looked them over, then walked to the desk of who I assumed was a supervisor. She returned and said she couldn't accept the proof of eye exam, as it lacked a stamp and the doctor's ID number. I sensed she thought I'd forged it, even the signature. She asked me to read the seventh line on a nearby eye chart. The first six were clear, the one in question a blur. She suggested I try it with my glasses. I explained that they were for reading, but gave it a shot, anyway. No dice. The woman apologized, and I said it wasn't her fault. I made the long walk to the doctor's office, another half-hour, certain I would find it closed. Fortunately, it wasn't. I explained the problem and the women at the desk accommodated me, apologizing. I resisted the urge to tear into them, reminding myself that it was a once-in-five years ordeal and that the weather and ice made the floating book shop impossible to operate, so there was really no time lost. A half-hour later I was back on line at the DMV. The woman who'd serviced me previously went on break just as I moved to number one. A beautiful woman to my far left called my attention. She may have been Latina. It was hard to tell. I found it difficult not to stare at her face. She barely scanned the paperwork. I was done in minutes, the cost just short of $125. I was starting to feel tired during the long trek back to Sheepshead Bay. I was sweating beneath the layers I'd donned and hoped I wouldn't catch cold, as the unfriendly wind that has been around, seemingly forever, continues to blow. I stopped at CVS, and who happened to be there but the Lady Eve, who had recommended the doctor to me. I told her I was in the early stages of glaucoma, and she asked if anyone in my family had had it. I didn't know. I explained there is a chance the problem may be completely reversed through the use of eye drops, which I will be using the rest of my life, and she was relieved to hear that. I was surprised the stuff cost only $45 for a three-month supply. I'd expected at least double that. So my monthly prescription bill is now up to about $25, which is nothing. And now only two chores remain, a trip to the dentist and the annual physical. It was just before two PM when I got home. I was bushed. I fell asleep while reading.
Vic's Sixth novel: http://tinyurl.com/zpuhucj
Vic's Sixth novel: http://tinyurl.com/zpuhucj
Vic's Short Works: http://tinyurl.com/jy55pzc
Vic's 5th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/okxkwh5Vic's 4th novel: tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Short Story Collection:http:// tinyurl.com/lh2tepa
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
The Writer's Life 3/15 - The Eyes Have It
How often have leftists said the rich don't pay taxes or don't pay a fair share? Yesterday President Trump released his 2005 return to head off negative publicity from an MSNBC report on two pages of it somehow acquired by a reporter. The documents show Trump earned $153 million and paid $36.5 million in income taxes, roughly a 25% rate, which is about two-percent below what someone in that bracket is charged. I assume deductions lowered it. Anyway, that's not the point. The fact that the government would take so much money from an individual shows who the real villains are. It is Un-American. (Adapted from a NY Post editorial)
I'm not qualified to state which is the best course on health care. From what I've read, the consensus seems to be that Obamacare has been a disaster for everyone but those receiving subsidies and those getting rich rich from it, and this before even more-costly measures have been applied. Democrats and much of the media are screaming about the Congressional Budget Office’s estimate that 24 million Americans will lose health insurance thanks to the GOP-proposed American Health Care Act. Keep in mind that this is the same CBO that said the Affordable Care Act would trim the deficit, which is still in the stratosphere. It also said 24 million people would be enrolled in the exchanges by now. It's actually eleven million. Would the GOP bill be a net positive? I have no idea. I'm skeptical about everything politicians hatch. If enacted, it may be a disaster that becomes another step toward a single-payer system controlled entirely by bureaucrats. Yes, such a system would be Un-American - not to mention mediocre - but America is changing. I hope I'm wrong, but I don't see any other solution. I would love to see free market principles applied and work magnificently for those able to pay for their own care, and government take care of the rest. Is that moral? Certainly not in the eyes of the left.
I had an eye exam today. I'm at risk for glaucoma, but it probably has been caught soon enough that the condition can be controlled, even improved. It involves pressure behind the eyes. 15-16 is considered normal. Mine is 25-26. The doctor prescribed eye drops I'm to take each night before bed. I observed as he looked over the results of the tests. "I bet the computer saves you a lot of work," I said, as he clicked and scanned. To my surprise, he hates it. He considers himself old school. He has to adhere to what Obamacare requires or pay a fine. That too sounds Un-American.
Although the accumulation was far less than forecast, the frigid temperatures have turned the snow to ice and dashed any hope of a quick melt. Anyone who parked on the right side of the street, where the plows push the snow, and who has not dug out his vehicle, is in for a lot of hard work. Plastic shovels won't cut it. I saw one guy pour a pail of hot water onto the mound blocking his rear tire. At least there was a little sun today, which should go a long way to making driving safer. I'm parked on the left side and don't plan to move my car until Saturday, unless the politicians decide to re-instate the alternate side parking regulation. That's unlikely, but one can never put anything past them.
I'm not qualified to state which is the best course on health care. From what I've read, the consensus seems to be that Obamacare has been a disaster for everyone but those receiving subsidies and those getting rich rich from it, and this before even more-costly measures have been applied. Democrats and much of the media are screaming about the Congressional Budget Office’s estimate that 24 million Americans will lose health insurance thanks to the GOP-proposed American Health Care Act. Keep in mind that this is the same CBO that said the Affordable Care Act would trim the deficit, which is still in the stratosphere. It also said 24 million people would be enrolled in the exchanges by now. It's actually eleven million. Would the GOP bill be a net positive? I have no idea. I'm skeptical about everything politicians hatch. If enacted, it may be a disaster that becomes another step toward a single-payer system controlled entirely by bureaucrats. Yes, such a system would be Un-American - not to mention mediocre - but America is changing. I hope I'm wrong, but I don't see any other solution. I would love to see free market principles applied and work magnificently for those able to pay for their own care, and government take care of the rest. Is that moral? Certainly not in the eyes of the left.
I had an eye exam today. I'm at risk for glaucoma, but it probably has been caught soon enough that the condition can be controlled, even improved. It involves pressure behind the eyes. 15-16 is considered normal. Mine is 25-26. The doctor prescribed eye drops I'm to take each night before bed. I observed as he looked over the results of the tests. "I bet the computer saves you a lot of work," I said, as he clicked and scanned. To my surprise, he hates it. He considers himself old school. He has to adhere to what Obamacare requires or pay a fine. That too sounds Un-American.
Although the accumulation was far less than forecast, the frigid temperatures have turned the snow to ice and dashed any hope of a quick melt. Anyone who parked on the right side of the street, where the plows push the snow, and who has not dug out his vehicle, is in for a lot of hard work. Plastic shovels won't cut it. I saw one guy pour a pail of hot water onto the mound blocking his rear tire. At least there was a little sun today, which should go a long way to making driving safer. I'm parked on the left side and don't plan to move my car until Saturday, unless the politicians decide to re-instate the alternate side parking regulation. That's unlikely, but one can never put anything past them.
Vic's Sixth novel: http://tinyurl.com/zpuhucj
Vic's Short Works: http://tinyurl.com/jy55pzc
Vic's 5th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/okxkwh5Vic's 4th novel: tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Short Story Collection:http:// tinyurl.com/lh2tepa
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
The Writer's Life 3/14 - Remembrance
Here are interesting stats I did not find surprising, as I've witnessed the fallout. From the NY Post, in my own words: Divorce among those 50 and older has risen 109% to ten for every 1000. In those over 65, it has tripled, six in 1000. I'd bet the two most likely factors are the stigma that has been removed from it, and longevity. People are living so long these days that it is not surprising some would opt to break from someone who has become irksome. With so many years left, why be miserable?
Since I've decided to not do a memoir, it has released many incidents from my personal life, which I'm now able to incorporate in novels. Here's an excerpt I added today to my next, Present and Past. The characters have begun the first leg of their cross-country auto trip:
“Oh, wake up,” said Tony.
Freddie shook his head, trying to clear it. “Sorry. I haven’t gotten much sleep the past few days.”
“Who’s Grace? You were mumblin’ the name.”
Freddie reflected a moment. “The only one I’ve ever known is Sister Grace Alfreda.”
“A nun? Get-at.”
“She was our seventh grade teacher, old school, hard of hearing.” He chuckled. “The first day of class she was showing us proper locker procedure. Bucky Bucalo…”
“Never heard of ‘im.”
“He wasn’t from the immediate neighborhood. Anyway, the poor bastard put something in the wrong spot – I don’t remember what – and she slapped him silly along the length of the lockers. You could hear a pin drop. I’m sure everybody was thinking ‘Uh-oh.’ I was.”
Tony smirked. “I’da punched ‘er in the face.”
“I wouldn’t’ve put it past you.” Freddie laughed and shook his head. “One time she isolated my desk, as if I wasn’t fit to be part of the class. It was horizontal, up against the wall, near the door. After we finished this test, I started giving Donna Geritano silly hound dog looks.”
“I don’t remember her.”
“Her family moved to Long Island after that school year. Anyway, Sister Grace might’ve been deaf, but she had an eagle eye. She was in the last seat in the last row. She spotted my act. I saw her spring up, make a beeline to the opposite corner and then right toward me. I knew what was coming. She took a hold of my hair, pulled my head back, and battered me.” He pantomimed the action.
“What’s so funny?”
“The insanity of it. Strange, but I respect and remember her more than any of my other teachers. Her methods were deplorable, but she was completely dedicated.”
“You shoulda slapped ‘er back.”
“Yeah, right. Not everybody’s like you.”
“Damn straight.”
“One time Johnny Califano was at the blackboard. He had to spell ‘equipment,’ which Brooklyn guys like us pronounced ‘aquipment.’ She yelled 'E! E! E!' and rammed his face into the slate. He was bleeding from the mouth.”
“Whatever happened to that nut?”
“Last time I saw him I was a sophomore in high school, sitting in the stands at Midwood Field with our J.V. team, watching our varsity get slaughtered. His older sister put him in a boarding school after their mom died. The father disappeared into the bottle a long time ago. He was on a class trip.”
“To a high school football game? That’s musta been the cheapest school goin.”
“Midwood was hot stuff back then, undefeated two years in a row. Brent Kaufman was a great running back, Larry Getto All-City quarterback. I wonder where they are now.”
“Probably cooped up in some office, kissin’ ass.”
“I remember Johnny exposing himself in class a couple of times.”
Both of them laughed.
“He had balls, not like you,” said Tony. “What’d the girls do?”
“I was too busy trying not to laugh out loud to notice. Check this out – in eighth grade one day they held us after school for ‘The Talk.’” Freddie described quotation marks with his fingers.
“Sex?”
Freddie nodded. “Johnny was in the first seat in the first row. Poor Father De Santis – when he said: ‘Rub your penis’ – Johnny slapped at his desk top, looked back at the rest of us and said: ‘Rub your penis!’ And we all lost it.”
“I love it! What’d the priest do?”
“He turned red with anger and, after a few more outbursts, told us to report to him the next day at the rectory. Sweet-natured soul that he was, he was over the embarrassment we caused him, and dismissed us immediately. He knew we were just goofy kids.”
“I don’t remember him. Then again, I stopped going to church right after Confirmation.”
Freddie glowed in the warmth of the remembrances. “God, I’ve been so lucky to’ve seen the things I have.”
Tony made a face. Freddie ignored the negativism.
The floating book shop was snowed-out today. I ventured forth twice. The wind was tough but the snowfall was a lot less than predicted, as the storm shifted ten miles west. I'm hoping my exam won't be canceled tomorrow. If the doctor's coming from Long Island, he shouldn't have a problem. If he's in Jersey, depending on which part, I doubt he'll make it.
Since I've decided to not do a memoir, it has released many incidents from my personal life, which I'm now able to incorporate in novels. Here's an excerpt I added today to my next, Present and Past. The characters have begun the first leg of their cross-country auto trip:
“Oh, wake up,” said Tony.
Freddie shook his head, trying to clear it. “Sorry. I haven’t gotten much sleep the past few days.”
“Who’s Grace? You were mumblin’ the name.”
Freddie reflected a moment. “The only one I’ve ever known is Sister Grace Alfreda.”
“A nun? Get-at.”
“She was our seventh grade teacher, old school, hard of hearing.” He chuckled. “The first day of class she was showing us proper locker procedure. Bucky Bucalo…”
“Never heard of ‘im.”
“He wasn’t from the immediate neighborhood. Anyway, the poor bastard put something in the wrong spot – I don’t remember what – and she slapped him silly along the length of the lockers. You could hear a pin drop. I’m sure everybody was thinking ‘Uh-oh.’ I was.”
Tony smirked. “I’da punched ‘er in the face.”
“I wouldn’t’ve put it past you.” Freddie laughed and shook his head. “One time she isolated my desk, as if I wasn’t fit to be part of the class. It was horizontal, up against the wall, near the door. After we finished this test, I started giving Donna Geritano silly hound dog looks.”
“I don’t remember her.”
“Her family moved to Long Island after that school year. Anyway, Sister Grace might’ve been deaf, but she had an eagle eye. She was in the last seat in the last row. She spotted my act. I saw her spring up, make a beeline to the opposite corner and then right toward me. I knew what was coming. She took a hold of my hair, pulled my head back, and battered me.” He pantomimed the action.
“What’s so funny?”
“The insanity of it. Strange, but I respect and remember her more than any of my other teachers. Her methods were deplorable, but she was completely dedicated.”
“You shoulda slapped ‘er back.”
“Yeah, right. Not everybody’s like you.”
“Damn straight.”
“One time Johnny Califano was at the blackboard. He had to spell ‘equipment,’ which Brooklyn guys like us pronounced ‘aquipment.’ She yelled 'E! E! E!' and rammed his face into the slate. He was bleeding from the mouth.”
“Whatever happened to that nut?”
“Last time I saw him I was a sophomore in high school, sitting in the stands at Midwood Field with our J.V. team, watching our varsity get slaughtered. His older sister put him in a boarding school after their mom died. The father disappeared into the bottle a long time ago. He was on a class trip.”
“To a high school football game? That’s musta been the cheapest school goin.”
“Midwood was hot stuff back then, undefeated two years in a row. Brent Kaufman was a great running back, Larry Getto All-City quarterback. I wonder where they are now.”
“Probably cooped up in some office, kissin’ ass.”
“I remember Johnny exposing himself in class a couple of times.”
Both of them laughed.
“He had balls, not like you,” said Tony. “What’d the girls do?”
“I was too busy trying not to laugh out loud to notice. Check this out – in eighth grade one day they held us after school for ‘The Talk.’” Freddie described quotation marks with his fingers.
“Sex?”
Freddie nodded. “Johnny was in the first seat in the first row. Poor Father De Santis – when he said: ‘Rub your penis’ – Johnny slapped at his desk top, looked back at the rest of us and said: ‘Rub your penis!’ And we all lost it.”
“I love it! What’d the priest do?”
“He turned red with anger and, after a few more outbursts, told us to report to him the next day at the rectory. Sweet-natured soul that he was, he was over the embarrassment we caused him, and dismissed us immediately. He knew we were just goofy kids.”
“I don’t remember him. Then again, I stopped going to church right after Confirmation.”
Freddie glowed in the warmth of the remembrances. “God, I’ve been so lucky to’ve seen the things I have.”
Tony made a face. Freddie ignored the negativism.
The floating book shop was snowed-out today. I ventured forth twice. The wind was tough but the snowfall was a lot less than predicted, as the storm shifted ten miles west. I'm hoping my exam won't be canceled tomorrow. If the doctor's coming from Long Island, he shouldn't have a problem. If he's in Jersey, depending on which part, I doubt he'll make it.
Vic's Sixth novel: http://tinyurl.com/zpuhucj
Vic's Short Works: http://tinyurl.com/jy55pzc
Vic's 5th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/okxkwh5Vic's 4th novel: tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Short Story Collection:http:// tinyurl.com/lh2tepa
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Monday, March 13, 2017
The Writer's Life 3/13 - Lost & Found
With the news seeming old hat today, I went list-trolling and found an interesting one at mentalfloss.com. It has been edited heavily by yours truly: Following the commercial failures of Moby Dick and Pierre; or, The Ambiguities, Herman Melville offered his next idea for a novel to Nathaniel Hawthorne, who turned it down. The Isle of the Cross came from a story Melville heard about the daughter of a lighthouse keeper who married a sailor only to be abandoned by him while she was pregnant—and have him return 17 years later. The work was rejected, though the reason remains unclear. Some have suggested the publisher wanted to avoid legal challenges from relatives of the woman. No copies of the manuscript exist... L. Frank Baum wasn't confined to the wonderful world of Oz. He wrote several books aimed at mature audiences. Four—Our Married Life, Johnson, The Mystery of Bonita, and Molly Oodle—were never published. His oldest son alleged in his memoir that his mother set the manuscripts on fire, though many suspect he lied about this to get back at her for bumping him from her will... Sylvia Plath committed suicide at 30, leaving behind only one novel, The Bell Jar. Ted Hughes, her husband, revealed in his memoir that she had been working on an autobiographical novel titled Double Exposure or Doubletake. Supposedly, the book dealt with the disintegration of Plath’s marriage to Hughes. He claims the manuscript “disappeared somewhere around 1970.” Whether or not it was completed is unknown. Given that it likely painted an unflattering picture of the adulterous Hughes, some suspect the “disappearance” wasn't a accidental... Thomas Hardy's first submission, The Poor Man and the Lady, was rejected, derided for being overly philosophical and satirical. Though he held on to the manuscript throughout his successful career, he destroyed it years before his death... A suitcase filled with early works by Ernest Hemingway was stolen from his wife’s seat on a train. Included was an in-progress World War I novel. Hemingway never attempted a rewrite... Before Hunter S. Thompson pioneered Gonzo journalism, he wrote a novel, Prince Jellyfish, an autobiographical tale that followed a boy from Louisville trying to make it in the big city. It was rejected. Thompson later described it as forgettable. His next novel, The Rum Diaries, a story inspired by his time as a journalist living in Puerto Rico, went unpublished until Johnny Depp discovered it at Thompson's home. The actor encouraged the author to get it into print... Unlike many works on this list, Margaret Atwood’s Scribbler Moon isn't lost. The story is safe inside a special room at the Deichmanske Public Library in Norway, but it won’t be read until 2114. The manuscript was the first entry into the Future Library. Conceived by Scottish artist Katie Paterson, the literary time capsule will gain one original piece from a prominent author every year for 100 years. As the century winds down, a forest of saplings planted outside Oslo in 2014 will flourish. When the contents of the library are ready to be seen, the trees will be chopped down and made into paper for the stories to be printed on. One can reserve - for grandchildren, I presume, - the entire collection for $1000.
Millions of manuscripts have been rejected. Then there are those works that are rejected by time, that become passe`. August Strindberg's Miss Julie is one. I'd never read anything by the "Father of modern Swedish literature," so I looked forward to it and was disappointed. Fortunately, the rigid class and gender lines, the strict sexual mores of 1888 no longer exist in the western world. Of course, division still remains, but it is mostly through income, and the folks at the bottom have a far greater chance of moving up than they did more than a century ago. In fact, it can't be said that wealth and class are not synonymous, as the media so often shows. If Miss Julie is remembered a hundred years hence, it will be as a part of an impressive body of work and because it was one of the first plays to introduce naturalistic dialogue to the world, and also one of the first driven by character rather than plot. Here's how the author's page at Wiki describes it: "... he used Charles Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest and dramatized a doomed sexual encounter that crosses the division of social classes. It is believed that this play was inspired by the marriage of Strindberg, the son of a servant, to an aristocratic woman." It spans only 35 pages. In the volume that came into my possession, there is an 11 page preface by the author that explains the work and how he thinks it should be staged. He was also a novelist, essayist, poet and painter, but is known almost exclusively for his plays outside his homeland.
It was the calm before the storm today. Although the sun is still shining at present, 4:51 PM, a massive Nor'easter is bearing down on the area. At least a foot of snow is expected, possibly two. Up until now winter has been benign. Mother Nature seems to want revenge... My thanks to Jack of Chase, who bought three paperback thrillers, to the young woman who bought an obscure novel, to the old timer who bought two books in Russian, to the middle aged woman who bought three, and to Bad News Billy, who bought the eight CD's I had on display, which he plans to distribute to old friends at his 49th high school football reunion. Thanks also to the angelic woman who has been so kind the past few years, who this time donated a bio of Pope Francis, a children's book, and a beautiful art pictorial. I hope the snow melts as fast as it usually does in March. I don't see the floating book shop returning to action to at least Saturday.
Millions of manuscripts have been rejected. Then there are those works that are rejected by time, that become passe`. August Strindberg's Miss Julie is one. I'd never read anything by the "Father of modern Swedish literature," so I looked forward to it and was disappointed. Fortunately, the rigid class and gender lines, the strict sexual mores of 1888 no longer exist in the western world. Of course, division still remains, but it is mostly through income, and the folks at the bottom have a far greater chance of moving up than they did more than a century ago. In fact, it can't be said that wealth and class are not synonymous, as the media so often shows. If Miss Julie is remembered a hundred years hence, it will be as a part of an impressive body of work and because it was one of the first plays to introduce naturalistic dialogue to the world, and also one of the first driven by character rather than plot. Here's how the author's page at Wiki describes it: "... he used Charles Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest and dramatized a doomed sexual encounter that crosses the division of social classes. It is believed that this play was inspired by the marriage of Strindberg, the son of a servant, to an aristocratic woman." It spans only 35 pages. In the volume that came into my possession, there is an 11 page preface by the author that explains the work and how he thinks it should be staged. He was also a novelist, essayist, poet and painter, but is known almost exclusively for his plays outside his homeland.
It was the calm before the storm today. Although the sun is still shining at present, 4:51 PM, a massive Nor'easter is bearing down on the area. At least a foot of snow is expected, possibly two. Up until now winter has been benign. Mother Nature seems to want revenge... My thanks to Jack of Chase, who bought three paperback thrillers, to the young woman who bought an obscure novel, to the old timer who bought two books in Russian, to the middle aged woman who bought three, and to Bad News Billy, who bought the eight CD's I had on display, which he plans to distribute to old friends at his 49th high school football reunion. Thanks also to the angelic woman who has been so kind the past few years, who this time donated a bio of Pope Francis, a children's book, and a beautiful art pictorial. I hope the snow melts as fast as it usually does in March. I don't see the floating book shop returning to action to at least Saturday.
Vic's Sixth novel: http://tinyurl.com/zpuhucj
Vic's Short Works: http://tinyurl.com/jy55pzc
Vic's 5th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/okxkwh5Vic's 4th novel: tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Short Story Collection:http:// tinyurl.com/lh2tepa
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Sunday, March 12, 2017
The Writer's Life 3/12 - Provocative or Bunk?
Bruce Cannon Gibney, 41, has written A Generation of Sociopaths: How the Baby Boomers Betrayed America. I hope the content is as gripping as the over-the-top title. A boomer myself, I'm often disappointed by the sense of entitlement and smugness of many of my generation, but it's never a good idea to paint everyone with a single brush-stroke. 19 readers at Amazon have rated the book, forging to a consensus of 3.5 out of five. 63% rate it five, 5% three, 11% two, and 21% one. One dissenter, a boomer, objects to the provocative term, instead dubbing many of his/our compatriots "self-absorbed and self-centered" but praising the work on "civil rights, women's rights and health, gay rights, environmental laws, water and air pollution, endangered species, empowering minorities ...and the list goes on and on." Reaction to the book is likely to reflect where one stands politically. Its sales rank at last check is #3515 overall. There are more than 13 million books listed at Jeff Bezos' monster website. A former lawyer, Gibney now lives in New York and San Francisco. He is a venture capitalist who has worked at a hedge fund and is now a partner at Silicon Valley’s Founders Fund. He is also the author of What Happened To The Future, an essay about the origins of America’s technological stagnation.
In her op-ed piece in today's NY Post, Peggy Noonan quotes Christopher Caldwell of firstthings.com: “The scale of the present wave of heroin and opioid abuse is unprecedented. Fifty-two thousand Americans died of overdoses in 2015 — about four times as many as died from gun homicides and half again as many as died in car accidents.” Salisbury, Mass., population 8,000, lost one resident in the Vietnam War. “It has lost fifteen to heroin in the last two years.” In four hours last summer 28 people in Huntington, W.Va., population 49,000, overdosed. The death toll “far eclipses” that of every previous drug crisis... Wow. Scary.
My thanks to the two kind ladies who bought books in Russian today.
In her op-ed piece in today's NY Post, Peggy Noonan quotes Christopher Caldwell of firstthings.com: “The scale of the present wave of heroin and opioid abuse is unprecedented. Fifty-two thousand Americans died of overdoses in 2015 — about four times as many as died from gun homicides and half again as many as died in car accidents.” Salisbury, Mass., population 8,000, lost one resident in the Vietnam War. “It has lost fifteen to heroin in the last two years.” In four hours last summer 28 people in Huntington, W.Va., population 49,000, overdosed. The death toll “far eclipses” that of every previous drug crisis... Wow. Scary.
My thanks to the two kind ladies who bought books in Russian today.
Vic's Sixth novel: http://tinyurl.com/zpuhucj
Vic's Short Works: http://tinyurl.com/jy55pzc
Vic's 5th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/okxkwh5Vic's 4th novel: tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Short Story Collection:http:// tinyurl.com/lh2tepa
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Saturday, March 11, 2017
The Writer's Life 3/11 - Staged
I've enjoyed the action-packed Bourne series, even The Bourne Legacy (2012), which starred Jeremy Renner and not Matt Damon, who appeared only in photographs in that installment. Last night I caught up to Jason Bourne (2016), courtesy of Netflix. It fills in a little bit more of the puzzle of the super-agent's past but never rises above a solid action flick. It begins with a hacking of the CIA, which is topical given the news of the past few days but, make no mistake about it, the story is all about thrills, not commentary on government. Fans of the genre will be satisfied with the two high-speed vehicle chases, the soaring body count, the fist fights and the exotic locales. It is a fast-moving two hours, but I doubt I'll remember much of it. There are so many movies like it. Tommy Lee Jones, looking very old, lends his usual expertise to the part of the rogue CIA leader out to eliminate Bourne. Frenchman Vincent Cassell is excellent as "The Asset," hot on the hero's trail. Julia Stiles plays the hacker who sets the plot in motion. I've always been impressed by her work. Unfortunately, she is hardly in anything that interests me. Sweden's Alicia Vikander, with whom I was unfamiliar, makes a good impression as an agent who comes to Bourne's aid. Matt Damon has the role of one-many-army down pat. This was Paul Greengrass' third collaboration with the star in the series. He co-wrote the screenplay with Christopher Rouse. Robert Ludlum created the character and delivered three best-sellers from 1980-'90. Eric VanLustbader has written nine more entries. Time will tell if Bourne endures as Sherlock Holmes and Dracula have. 141,000+ users at IMDb have rated Jason Bourne, forging to a consensus of 6.7 of ten. On a scale of five, I say three. I would be surprised if there isn't another film in the series. Made on a budget of $120 million, it earned $162 million in the USA alone. The soundtrack was done by Moby, whose music I've always found interesting in his TV appearances. I wish I'd paid closer attention to the score. It seems IMDb has discontinued the commentary section on films. I'm not surprised. Although I occasionally gleaned insights from it, it was usually dominated by negativism.
Some people have a twisted sense of humor. An Ohio couple staged a murder scene in a bathtub, using ketchup, and then sent pictures to friends and relatives, the male "confessing" to the foul deed. Officers arrived after getting calls from three people who were "hysterical." The couple, in their twenties, were arrested, charged with inducing panic. Both pleaded not guilty. Here's the pic they sent out to social media, courtesy of dailymail.com:
I didn't expect to be selling books on the street today, as the forecast predicted wind chill in the teens. As I walked to Burger King, it wasn't very windy. There was enough sunshine to take the bite out of the cold, so I thought I'd give it a shot for a couple of hours. I'm glad I did. My thanks to Mr. Conspiracy, aka Steve, who purchased the beautiful pictorial Encyclopedia of World History, to the young woman who bought two obscure novels, to the one who bought three Iris Johanssen thrillers in hardcover, to the elderly woman who bought two Danielle Steel romances in Russian, and to the young man who bought Emotional Intelligence: Why It Can Matter More Than IQ by Daniel Goleman. I felt like I got away with something.
Some people have a twisted sense of humor. An Ohio couple staged a murder scene in a bathtub, using ketchup, and then sent pictures to friends and relatives, the male "confessing" to the foul deed. Officers arrived after getting calls from three people who were "hysterical." The couple, in their twenties, were arrested, charged with inducing panic. Both pleaded not guilty. Here's the pic they sent out to social media, courtesy of dailymail.com:
I didn't expect to be selling books on the street today, as the forecast predicted wind chill in the teens. As I walked to Burger King, it wasn't very windy. There was enough sunshine to take the bite out of the cold, so I thought I'd give it a shot for a couple of hours. I'm glad I did. My thanks to Mr. Conspiracy, aka Steve, who purchased the beautiful pictorial Encyclopedia of World History, to the young woman who bought two obscure novels, to the one who bought three Iris Johanssen thrillers in hardcover, to the elderly woman who bought two Danielle Steel romances in Russian, and to the young man who bought Emotional Intelligence: Why It Can Matter More Than IQ by Daniel Goleman. I felt like I got away with something.
Vic's Sixth novel: http://tinyurl.com/zpuhucj
Vic's Short Works: http://tinyurl.com/jy55pzc
Vic's 5th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/okxkwh5Vic's 4th novel: tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Short Story Collection:http:// tinyurl.com/lh2tepa
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Vic's 2nd Novel Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kx3d3uf
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tinyurl.com/l84h63j
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
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