[stylist] stylist Digest, Vol 81, Issue 23
Bridgit Pollpeter
bpollpeter at hotmail.com
Sun Jan 16 04:18:03 UTC 2011
Chris,
Good opening. Good sensory detail and great description of the
unlady-like squatting.
Maybe just show Mike doing things without attributing the how or why.
"With a well practice ear, he found it without difficulty." Perhaps
just have him simply reach for the glass especially since this is such a
mundane action.
"Ain't no cure for the summertime blues," he sang the line, and
thankfully, didn't continue. Ray Charles, he isn't.
The Ray Charles reference is a bit cheesey since Mike is blind. Also,
again, maybe give more active description. "Ain't no cure for the
summertime blues," he sang off-key. Something like that.
Good realistic dialogue that also characterizes. "He took a long pull
off his beer. 'Aw. Like mother's milk.'" I like this, although, after
"Aw" I think you can use a comma or dash instead of a period.
When she turns on the faucet, it seems a bit out of place. I know they
have been fixing the faucet, but it feels dropped into the text and not
organic in its placement.
"His face reddened and he stopped talking. After another sip of beer, he
said, 'Well, I pissed off a lot of people in the internet writer's group
I belong to by posting an anti-tea party satire.'"
Ha-ha-ha! I like your style Kuell!
I like how you compare life to a soap opera. Bit of a cliché, but it
works especially for the character.
"He felt for the top of the hamburger bun and splashed a glob left of
center." Good specific action that doesn't overstate the blind issue.
"He finished his burger and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
'Another beer, Mike?'" I think the dialogue needs to be separated from
the action since the speaker is not the one the action is attributed to.
I like the humor in this piece. You address a lot of issues without
directly stating them--really good job with this.
Good characterization except I think we need more from the narrator.
Very smooth! *smirk*
Bridgit
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of stylist-request at nfbnet.org
Sent: Saturday, January 15, 2011 12:00 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: stylist Digest, Vol 81, Issue 23
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"Re: Contents of stylist digest..."
Today's Topics:
1. Re: Writing process (Judith Bron)
2. The tragic shooting of Gabrielle Giffords (Bridgit Pollpeter)
3. Political pieces and the list (Robert Leslie Newman)
4. fiction (Chris Kuell)
5. Re: fiction (Donna Hill)
6. Re: fiction (Judith Bron)
7. Re: fiction (The Crowd)
8. Re: fiction (Anita Adkins)
9. Re: Political pieces and the list (LoriStay at aol.com)
10. Re: fiction (LoriStay at aol.com)
11. FYI received the stylist today (cheryl echevarria)
12. Re: fiction (LoriStay at aol.com)
13. Re: fiction (James H. "Jim" Canaday M.A. N6YR)
14. Re: stylist Digest, Vol 81, Issue 21 (Kerry Thompson)
15. Fwd: Re: fiction (James H. "Jim" Canaday M.A. N6YR)
16. Parental thoughts and subject line Re: stylist Digest, Vol
81, Issue 21 (Brad Dunse)
17. Re: OT: Pennsylvania Jaws users sought for blog accessibility
study, compensation given (Donna Hill)
18. Re: FYI received the stylist today (Robert Leslie Newman)
19. Re: FYI received the stylist today (cheryl echevarria)
20. Re: FYI received the stylist today (Robert Leslie Newman)
21. Re: fiction (Robert Leslie Newman)
22. Re: fiction (Justin H. Williams)
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Message: 1
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 13:32:04 -0500
From: Judith Bron <jbron at optonline.net>
To: Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] Writing process
Message-ID: <AA5B49499C03407CA8C164D336EF22F2 at dell5150>
Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed; charset=iso-8859-1;
reply-type=response
I think this thread verifies the phrase, "Different strokes for
different
folks." Every writer has to find the zone where they're most
comfortable
writing. Judith
----- Original Message -----
From: "The Crowd" <the_crowd at cox.net>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 12:23 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] Writing process
>I write like mad the first draft then go back and re-write.
>
> One of my favorite writers, Clive Barker, writes many of his first
> drafts
> in pencil. He is an incredable writer.
>
> That would be like writing your first draft with a slate. lol
>
> Shutters.
>
> Atty
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
> stylist mailing list
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> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
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ne.net
>
------------------------------
Message: 2
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 12:37:48 -0600
From: Bridgit Pollpeter <bpollpeter at hotmail.com>
To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: [stylist] The tragic shooting of Gabrielle Giffords
Message-ID: <BLU0-SMTP1648D3258F6C69842F0B008C4F30 at phx.gbl>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII"
We may not be a political list, but as writers, we will focus on issues
such as politics. It is important to know where others go when reading
a piece especially if agenda driven. We do not need to begin a debate
on politics, but as a writer, we want to know how readers respond. A
part of constructive criticism is learning where your audience stands on
the issues you approach.
Judith's piece was passionate and full of her opinion which, as a
writer, she has every right to express. As I, and many others, noted,
as a persuasive piece, this is a bit strong. A good persuasive argument
would not directly attack or point fingers. I think it is important to
understand this because it allows us as the writers to judge where our
writing needs to go.
Bridgit
------------------------------
Message: 3
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 13:55:02 -0600
From: "Robert Leslie Newman" <newmanrl at cox.net>
To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: [stylist] Political pieces and the list
Message-ID: <018e01cbb424$ee757ad0$cb607070$@cox.net>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Judith AtAll
I am sure we have more than one or two here on this list who can get
into writing a piece that has political under-pinning's or over-tones or
whatever and they too can be assured that members of this list will step
up and give a read and advice on the technical aspects. Granted, there
does need to be some sensitivity in the topic, the presentation and also
in our "helping" of the author. I feel you all have done a good job in
staying within the technical realm. (As the NFB Webmaster once said of
us, we do a good job of working together, doing our own self-policing"
and we make the list work for us.)
Thank you all
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Bridgit Pollpeter
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 12:38 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] The tragic shooting of Gabrielle Giffords
We may not be a political list, but as writers, we will focus on issues
such as politics. It is important to know where others go when reading
a piece especially if agenda driven. We do not need to begin a debate
on politics, but as a writer, we want to know how readers respond. A
part of constructive criticism is learning where your audience stands on
the issues you approach.
Judith's piece was passionate and full of her opinion which, as a
writer, she has every right to express. As I, and many others, noted,
as a persuasive piece, this is a bit strong. A good persuasive argument
would not directly attack or point fingers. I think it is important to
understand this because it allows us as the writers to judge where our
writing needs to go.
Bridgit
_______________________________________________
Writers Division web site:
http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
<http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
stylist mailing list
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http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
stylist:
http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/newmanrl%40cox.
net
------------------------------
Message: 4
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 15:01:33 -0500
From: "Chris Kuell" <ckuell at comcast.net>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: [stylist] fiction
Message-ID: <CE855551342141C6A8D61E62495A88C6 at ChrisPC>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
1,425 Words
Just Call Me Al
By Chris Kuell
The jingle of the bell at the door caught me off guard. I was squatting
in a very un-lady-like position, tightening a nut on the new faucet in
the double sink. Twenty past eleven was early, even for the biker crowd.
I heard the tap, tap, tap of a cane and stood up to see Mike Edison, a
blind frequenter of my bar, The Chicken Bone Cafe. He made his way to
the corner stool, collapsed his cane and tucked it under his leg.
"Hey, Mike. Haven't seen you much this winter. What've you been up to?"
"Oh, you know, the usual," he said. "Training for the Olympics-I'm pole
vaulting next summer. I'm also taking a welding and a photography class
at the Voc."
"Smart-ass," I said, and poured him a pint.
"Actually, I've been making pretty good progress on my novel. I'm on
Chapter 17, a little over 200 pages."
"Hey, that's great," I said. "Congratulations." I placed the beer on a
coaster in front of him. With a well practiced ear, he found it without
difficulty.
"So, why're you in here before eleven-thirty, instead of being home,
writing a steamy sex scene in your book?"
"Ain't no cure for the summertime blues." He sang the line, and
thankfully, didn't continue. Ray Charles, he isn't.
I clicked on the TV in the corner of the bar. "You and the wife arguing
again?" Mike lived down the street, so he came here sometimes to cool
down and gain perspective when things weren't so glorious on the home
front.
"Naw, that's not it," he said. He took a long pull off his beer. "Ahh.
Like mother's milk."
I've heard this expression from him a hundred times, and it's pretty
well worn out.
"No, me and the old lady are okay." Mike took another drink, and then
looked me right in the chest. Now, I know he can't see, and he doesn't
know that is where his gaze is focused. But at times, I have to wonder.
"You ever notice how I have a knack for pissing people off?"
"That's not true, Mike," I said. "You seem to get along with everybody.
Especially the ladies you buy drinks for."
I turned on the faucet and checked for leaks, but everything was dry.
Rosie Riveter comes through again.
"There was that one night, though, when I thought I was going to have to
take the bat to you and Steve. You had too much to drink and were quite
vocal in your opinion about Bush stealing the election."
"I wasn't drunk," he broke in. "I was bullshit. I mean, the whole 2000
election debacle was unconstitutional. But, I'm unpatriotic if I don't
just bend over and take it."
His face reddened and he stopped talking. After another sip of beer, he
said, "Well, I pissed off a lot of people in the internet writer's group
I belong to by posting an anti-tea party satire."
"What didn't they like?"
He drained his beer and I poured him another. Nobody else had come in
yet, so I didn't mind talking.
"My commentary was mildly acidic, although, you would have fainted if
you saw my first draft. This was the toned down version. I thought it
was entertaining, thought it would make people laugh. And maybe, just
maybe, make people think seriously about our country, and what is best
for all Americans. Both today, and ten, twenty years from now."
"Doesn't sound bad to me." I warmed up the small grill where I made
burgers and sandwiches for the lunch crowd.
"I didn't think it was. After I posted it, I thought of a dozen other
points I should have included. You can guess how it went. The choir
cheered, the republicans in the group think I'm a knee-jerk liberal, and
a handful think I hate Jesus."
"Do you?" I asked. Bartenders and shrinks are masters of carrying on
conversations with very few words. It's a real talent.
"No, of course not. I love Jesus." He took a draw off his beer. "I also
love Buddha, and Moses, and that Hindu God with all the arms, and Mother
earth. I'm still on the fence about Mohammed and Joseph Smith, though."
He leaned his head to one side, listening to the weather forecast on the
television before continuing. "In fact, I probably love Jesus best of
all. I just don't believe in heaven, in the way most people do, so I
don't think you have to be a Christian to get there." He absent-mindedly
swirled the beer in his glass. "I think there are many religions on this
planet to serve the people of the various cultures. To help them get
through this soap-opera we call life."
"I try never to discuss politics or religion with people unless I know
exactly where they stand," I said. "It's just asking for trouble. You
want a burger?"
"Sure," he said. "You're right, I know. I've stirred up trouble a dozen
times before on internet groups, I just can't seem to help it.
Manipulation by fear and intolerance infuriates me." He sipped and
scratched the nubs of beard on his face." They spew out lies and
hypocrisy, and America eats it like Lassie on a T-bone."
"Un-hunh," I said, flipping the sizzling burger.
"I just want to shake them; tell them to wake up. But, then I realize
I'm no better than the nut-jobs on the far-right of the political
spectrum."
Mike sat in silence for a minute. Then he said, "You know what I was
thinking about this morning when I was eating my Raisin Bran?"
"What?"
"I remind my self of Al Sharpton, which is not a compliment." He shook
his head and rubbed one finger along the edge of his glass. "Now, I'm no
fan of Mr. Sharpton. He is a bigoted idiot who takes up causes primarily
to get his face on TV. But, even though nobody of power takes him
seriously, they have to listen, to appease him somehow, because he does
have followers. In his loudmouthed, opportunistic, wacko kind of way, he
brings attention to African-American issues - and people notice. He
makes them think."
The door jingled again with the arrival of fresh patrons. I set the
burger down in front of Mike.
"Ketchup at ten o'clock," I said, putting down a bottle.
"Ketchup, Reagan's favorite vegetable," he said. He felt for the top of
the hamburger bun and splashed a glob left of center.
"It makes everybody's buns taste better."
I laughed. "Do you ever stop thinking about sex, Mike?"
"Sure. I only think about sex forty-five out of every sixty seconds.
Gotta leave some time for politics, religion, and general day-dreaming."
"Personally," I said, pouring a beer for a customer with a beard like a
lumberjack, "I think you should carve out more time for your book, and
spend less time gabbing with your friends on e-mail. Biggest time waster
ever invented."
"Again, you're right," he said. A small blotch of ketchup was on his lip
and I wished he would get it.
"But, writing is a lonely business. I don't go to an office where I can
interact with other people around the coffee machine. I mostly get to
hear people's opinions in essays and writing prompts. It's fascinating
to see the different directions people go with a similar starting
point."
He finished his burger and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
"Another beer, Mike?"
"No," he said, reaching in his pocket and handing me a twenty, folded
into a triangle. "You've convinced me. I'm going back to my novel, where
I can at least pretend everything is okay."
"After you finish, you can have a book signing here," I said.
"That ought to bring in two or three new customers."
I handed him his change. He said, "Keep the ones and just give me the
five."
"Mike, that's about forty-percent tip," I said.
"Support your local bartender," he announced to the two other patrons,
and then got up to leave.
I held the door and he pinched my ass as he walked by. I gave him a
quick jab to the shoulder but he shrugged it off and laughed.
Two college-aged girls watched Mike tap his way down the street. They
came into the bar, holding hands and bubbling with the excitement of new
love.
"Hey, was that Mike Edison, the blind writer?" one of the girls asked.
"I heard he lived around here."
"Yeah," I said. "But, he thinks he's Al Sharpton."
------------------------------
Message: 5
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 15:37:01 -0500
From: Donna Hill <penatwork at epix.net>
To: Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Message-ID: <4D30B3ED.10008 at epix.net>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1; format=flowed
Chris,
A very intriguing piece and timely. I like the complications in Mike's
character which you have built into this by having him express his
opinions, which aren't entirely predictable. I thought it was funny that
he puts his Ketchup left of center. It's refreshing that you are also
unafraid to show him as an imperfect blind person -- having the Ketchup
on his lip and the sighted bar tender wishing he'd do something about
it.
One typo ...
Block quote
"I wasn't drunk," he broke in. "I was bullshit. I mean, the whole 2000
election debacle was unconstitutional. ..."
Block quote end
I think you mean "It was bullshit" not "I."
Donna
Read Donna's articles on
Suite 101:
www.suite101.com/profile.cfm/donna_hill
Ezine Articles:
http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=D._W._Hill
American Chronicle:
www.americanchronicle.com/authors/view/3885
Connect with Donna on
Twitter:
www.twitter.com/dewhill
LinkedIn:
www.linkedin.com/in/dwh99
FaceBook:
www.facebook.com/donna.w.hill.
Hear clips from "The Last Straw" at:
cdbaby.com/cd/donnahill
Apple I-Tunes
phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?playListId=25924437
4
Check out the "Sound in Sight" CD project
Donna is Head of Media Relations for the nonprofit
Performing Arts Division of the National Federation of the Blind:
www.padnfb.org
On 1/14/2011 3:01 PM, Chris Kuell wrote:
>
> 1,425 Words
>
>
>
> Just Call Me Al
>
>
>
>
>
> By Chris Kuell
>
>
>
> The jingle of the bell at the door caught me off guard. I was
> squatting in a very un-lady-like position, tightening a nut on the new
> faucet in the double sink. Twenty past eleven was early, even for the
> biker crowd. I heard the tap, tap, tap of a cane and stood up to see
> Mike Edison, a blind frequenter of my bar, The Chicken Bone Cafe. He
> made his way to the corner stool, collapsed his cane and tucked it
> under his leg.
>
>
>
> "Hey, Mike. Haven't seen you much this winter. What've you been up
> to?"
>
>
>
> "Oh, you know, the usual," he said. "Training for the Olympics-I'm
> pole vaulting next summer. I'm also taking a welding and a photography
> class at the Voc."
>
>
>
> "Smart-ass," I said, and poured him a pint.
>
>
>
> "Actually, I've been making pretty good progress on my novel. I'm on
> Chapter 17, a little over 200 pages."
>
>
>
> "Hey, that's great," I said. "Congratulations." I placed the beer on a
> coaster in front of him. With a well practiced ear, he found it
> without difficulty.
>
>
>
> "So, why're you in here before eleven-thirty, instead of being home,
> writing a steamy sex scene in your book?"
>
>
>
> "Ain't no cure for the summertime blues." He sang the line, and
> thankfully, didn't continue. Ray Charles, he isn't.
>
>
>
> I clicked on the TV in the corner of the bar. "You and the wife
> arguing again?" Mike lived down the street, so he came here sometimes
> to cool down and gain perspective when things weren't so glorious on
> the home front.
>
>
>
> "Naw, that's not it," he said. He took a long pull off his beer. "Ahh.
> Like mother's milk."
>
>
>
> I've heard this expression from him a hundred times, and it's pretty
> well worn out.
>
>
>
> "No, me and the old lady are okay." Mike took another drink, and then
> looked me right in the chest. Now, I know he can't see, and he doesn't
> know that is where his gaze is focused. But at times, I have to
> wonder.
>
>
>
> "You ever notice how I have a knack for pissing people off?"
>
>
>
> "That's not true, Mike," I said. "You seem to get along with
> everybody. Especially the ladies you buy drinks for."
>
>
>
> I turned on the faucet and checked for leaks, but everything was dry.
> Rosie Riveter comes through again.
>
> "There was that one night, though, when I thought I was going to have
> to take the bat to you and Steve. You had too much to drink and were
> quite vocal in your opinion about Bush stealing the election."
>
>
>
> "I wasn't drunk," he broke in. "I was bullshit. I mean, the whole 2000
> election debacle was unconstitutional. But, I'm unpatriotic if I don't
> just bend over and take it."
>
>
>
> His face reddened and he stopped talking. After another sip of beer,
> he said, "Well, I pissed off a lot of people in the internet writer's
> group I belong to by posting an anti-tea party satire."
>
>
>
> "What didn't they like?"
>
>
>
> He drained his beer and I poured him another. Nobody else had come in
> yet, so I didn't mind talking.
>
>
>
> "My commentary was mildly acidic, although, you would have fainted if
> you saw my first draft. This was the toned down version. I thought it
> was entertaining, thought it would make people laugh. And maybe, just
> maybe, make people think seriously about our country, and what is best
> for all Americans. Both today, and ten, twenty years from now."
>
>
>
> "Doesn't sound bad to me." I warmed up the small grill where I made
> burgers and sandwiches for the lunch crowd.
>
>
>
> "I didn't think it was. After I posted it, I thought of a dozen other
> points I should have included. You can guess how it went. The choir
> cheered, the republicans in the group think I'm a knee-jerk liberal,
> and a handful think I hate Jesus."
>
>
>
> "Do you?" I asked. Bartenders and shrinks are masters of carrying on
> conversations with very few words. It's a real talent.
>
>
>
> "No, of course not. I love Jesus." He took a draw off his beer. "I
> also love Buddha, and Moses, and that Hindu God with all the arms, and
> Mother earth. I'm still on the fence about Mohammed and Joseph Smith,
> though." He leaned his head to one side, listening to the weather
> forecast on the television before continuing. "In fact, I probably
> love Jesus best of all. I just don't believe in heaven, in the way
> most people do, so I don't think you have to be a Christian to get
> there." He absent-mindedly swirled the beer in his glass. "I think
> there are many religions on this planet to serve the people of the
> various cultures. To help them get through this soap-opera we call
> life."
>
> "I try never to discuss politics or religion with people unless I
> know exactly where they stand," I said. "It's just asking for trouble.
> You want a burger?"
>
>
>
> "Sure," he said. "You're right, I know. I've stirred up trouble a
> dozen times before on internet groups, I just can't seem to help it.
> Manipulation by fear and intolerance infuriates me." He sipped and
> scratched the nubs of beard on his face." They spew out lies and
> hypocrisy, and America eats it like Lassie on a T-bone."
>
>
>
> "Un-hunh," I said, flipping the sizzling burger.
>
>
>
> "I just want to shake them; tell them to wake up. But, then I realize
> I'm no better than the nut-jobs on the far-right of the political
> spectrum."
>
>
>
> Mike sat in silence for a minute. Then he said, "You know what I was
> thinking about this morning when I was eating my Raisin Bran?"
>
>
>
> "What?"
>
>
>
> "I remind my self of Al Sharpton, which is not a compliment." He shook
> his head and rubbed one finger along the edge of his glass. "Now, I'm
> no fan of Mr. Sharpton. He is a bigoted idiot who takes up causes
> primarily to get his face on TV. But, even though nobody of power
> takes him seriously, they have to listen, to appease him somehow,
> because he does have followers. In his loudmouthed, opportunistic,
> wacko kind of way, he brings attention to African-American issues -
> and people notice. He makes them think."
>
>
>
> The door jingled again with the arrival of fresh patrons. I set the
> burger down in front of Mike.
>
> "Ketchup at ten o'clock," I said, putting down a bottle.
>
>
>
> "Ketchup, Reagan's favorite vegetable," he said. He felt for the top
> of the hamburger bun and splashed a glob left of center.
>
> "It makes everybody's buns taste better."
>
>
>
> I laughed. "Do you ever stop thinking about sex, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "Sure. I only think about sex forty-five out of every sixty seconds.
> Gotta leave some time for politics, religion, and general
> day-dreaming."
>
>
>
> "Personally," I said, pouring a beer for a customer with a beard like
> a lumberjack, "I think you should carve out more time for your book,
> and spend less time gabbing with your friends on e-mail. Biggest time
> waster ever invented."
>
>
>
> "Again, you're right," he said. A small blotch of ketchup was on his
> lip and I wished he would get it.
>
> "But, writing is a lonely business. I don't go to an office where I
> can interact with other people around the coffee machine. I mostly get
> to hear people's opinions in essays and writing prompts. It's
> fascinating to see the different directions people go with a similar
> starting point."
>
>
>
> He finished his burger and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
> "Another beer, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "No," he said, reaching in his pocket and handing me a twenty, folded
> into a triangle. "You've convinced me. I'm going back to my novel,
> where I can at least pretend everything is okay."
>
>
>
> "After you finish, you can have a book signing here," I said.
>
>
>
> "That ought to bring in two or three new customers."
>
>
>
> I handed him his change. He said, "Keep the ones and just give me the
> five."
>
>
>
> "Mike, that's about forty-percent tip," I said.
>
>
>
> "Support your local bartender," he announced to the two other patrons,
> and then got up to leave.
>
>
>
> I held the door and he pinched my ass as he walked by. I gave him a
> quick jab to the shoulder but he shrugged it off and laughed.
>
>
>
> Two college-aged girls watched Mike tap his way down the street. They
> came into the bar, holding hands and bubbling with the excitement of
> new love.
>
>
>
> "Hey, was that Mike Edison, the blind writer?" one of the girls asked.
> "I heard he lived around here."
>
>
>
> "Yeah," I said. "But, he thinks he's Al Sharpton."
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site:
> http://www.nfb-writers-division.org<http://www.nfb-writers-division.or
> g/>
>
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> stylist:
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/penatwork%40e
> pix.net
>
>
>
>
> E-mail message checked by Spyware Doctor (7.0.0.514)
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>
>
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------------------------------
Message: 6
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 15:46:47 -0500
From: Judith Bron <jbron at optonline.net>
To: Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Message-ID: <FEDA02E5F96B44F7B7ACF51AE20B2E3B at dell5150>
Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed; charset=iso-8859-1;
reply-type=original
That's one heck of a mea colpa, Chris. I just wanted to add to
yesterday's
heat did you know what Obama said about the new governor of Florida
before
he was elected? He said that he's a millionaire and a bunch of other
things
I don't remember. His upshot was he should be shot. So my dear liberal
friends, let's not run off at the mouth, or keyboard, about all those
conservatives who draw pictures over the heads of Democrats. Have a
great
Saturday everyone, Judith
----- Original Message -----
From: "Chris Kuell" <ckuell at comcast.net>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 3:01 PM
Subject: [stylist] fiction
>
> 1,425 Words
>
>
>
> Just Call Me Al
>
>
>
>
>
> By Chris Kuell
>
>
>
> The jingle of the bell at the door caught me off guard. I was
> squatting in
> a very un-lady-like position, tightening a nut on the new faucet in
the
> double sink. Twenty past eleven was early, even for the biker crowd. I
> heard the tap, tap, tap of a cane and stood up to see Mike Edison, a
blind
> frequenter of my bar, The Chicken Bone Cafe. He made his way to the
corner
> stool, collapsed his cane and tucked it under his leg.
>
>
>
> "Hey, Mike. Haven't seen you much this winter. What've you been up
> to?"
>
>
>
> "Oh, you know, the usual," he said. "Training for the Olympics-I'm
> pole
> vaulting next summer. I'm also taking a welding and a photography
class at
> the Voc."
>
>
>
> "Smart-ass," I said, and poured him a pint.
>
>
>
> "Actually, I've been making pretty good progress on my novel. I'm on
> Chapter 17, a little over 200 pages."
>
>
>
> "Hey, that's great," I said. "Congratulations." I placed the beer on a
> coaster in front of him. With a well practiced ear, he found it
without
> difficulty.
>
>
>
> "So, why're you in here before eleven-thirty, instead of being home,
> writing a steamy sex scene in your book?"
>
>
>
> "Ain't no cure for the summertime blues." He sang the line, and
> thankfully, didn't continue. Ray Charles, he isn't.
>
>
>
> I clicked on the TV in the corner of the bar. "You and the wife
> arguing
> again?" Mike lived down the street, so he came here sometimes to cool
down
> and gain perspective when things weren't so glorious on the home
front.
>
>
>
> "Naw, that's not it," he said. He took a long pull off his beer. "Ahh.
> Like mother's milk."
>
>
>
> I've heard this expression from him a hundred times, and it's pretty
> well
> worn out.
>
>
>
> "No, me and the old lady are okay." Mike took another drink, and then
> looked me right in the chest. Now, I know he can't see, and he doesn't
> know that is where his gaze is focused. But at times, I have to
wonder.
>
>
>
> "You ever notice how I have a knack for pissing people off?"
>
>
>
> "That's not true, Mike," I said. "You seem to get along with
> everybody.
> Especially the ladies you buy drinks for."
>
>
>
> I turned on the faucet and checked for leaks, but everything was dry.
> Rosie Riveter comes through again.
>
> "There was that one night, though, when I thought I was going to have
> to
> take the bat to you and Steve. You had too much to drink and were
quite
> vocal in your opinion about Bush stealing the election."
>
>
>
> "I wasn't drunk," he broke in. "I was bullshit. I mean, the whole 2000
> election debacle was unconstitutional. But, I'm unpatriotic if I don't
> just bend over and take it."
>
>
>
> His face reddened and he stopped talking. After another sip of beer,
> he
> said, "Well, I pissed off a lot of people in the internet writer's
group I
> belong to by posting an anti-tea party satire."
>
>
>
> "What didn't they like?"
>
>
>
> He drained his beer and I poured him another. Nobody else had come in
> yet,
> so I didn't mind talking.
>
>
>
> "My commentary was mildly acidic, although, you would have fainted if
> you
> saw my first draft. This was the toned down version. I thought it was
> entertaining, thought it would make people laugh. And maybe, just
maybe,
> make people think seriously about our country, and what is best for
all
> Americans. Both today, and ten, twenty years from now."
>
>
>
> "Doesn't sound bad to me." I warmed up the small grill where I made
> burgers and sandwiches for the lunch crowd.
>
>
>
> "I didn't think it was. After I posted it, I thought of a dozen other
> points I should have included. You can guess how it went. The choir
> cheered, the republicans in the group think I'm a knee-jerk liberal,
and a
> handful think I hate Jesus."
>
>
>
> "Do you?" I asked. Bartenders and shrinks are masters of carrying on
> conversations with very few words. It's a real talent.
>
>
>
> "No, of course not. I love Jesus." He took a draw off his beer. "I
> also
> love Buddha, and Moses, and that Hindu God with all the arms, and
Mother
> earth. I'm still on the fence about Mohammed and Joseph Smith,
though." He
> leaned his head to one side, listening to the weather forecast on the
> television before continuing. "In fact, I probably love Jesus best of
all.
> I just don't believe in heaven, in the way most people do, so I don't
> think you have to be a Christian to get there." He absent-mindedly
swirled
> the beer in his glass. "I think there are many religions on this
planet to
> serve the people of the various cultures. To help them get through
this
> soap-opera we call life."
>
> "I try never to discuss politics or religion with people unless I know
> exactly where they stand," I said. "It's just asking for trouble. You
want
> a burger?"
>
>
>
> "Sure," he said. "You're right, I know. I've stirred up trouble a
> dozen
> times before on internet groups, I just can't seem to help it.
> Manipulation by fear and intolerance infuriates me." He sipped and
> scratched the nubs of beard on his face." They spew out lies and
> hypocrisy, and America eats it like Lassie on a T-bone."
>
>
>
> "Un-hunh," I said, flipping the sizzling burger.
>
>
>
> "I just want to shake them; tell them to wake up. But, then I realize
> I'm
> no better than the nut-jobs on the far-right of the political
spectrum."
>
>
>
> Mike sat in silence for a minute. Then he said, "You know what I was
> thinking about this morning when I was eating my Raisin Bran?"
>
>
>
> "What?"
>
>
>
> "I remind my self of Al Sharpton, which is not a compliment." He shook
> his
> head and rubbed one finger along the edge of his glass. "Now, I'm no
fan
> of Mr. Sharpton. He is a bigoted idiot who takes up causes primarily
to
> get his face on TV. But, even though nobody of power takes him
seriously,
> they have to listen, to appease him somehow, because he does have
> followers. In his loudmouthed, opportunistic, wacko kind of way, he
brings
> attention to African-American issues - and people notice. He makes
them
> think."
>
>
>
> The door jingled again with the arrival of fresh patrons. I set the
> burger
> down in front of Mike.
>
> "Ketchup at ten o'clock," I said, putting down a bottle.
>
>
>
> "Ketchup, Reagan's favorite vegetable," he said. He felt for the top
> of
> the hamburger bun and splashed a glob left of center.
>
> "It makes everybody's buns taste better."
>
>
>
> I laughed. "Do you ever stop thinking about sex, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "Sure. I only think about sex forty-five out of every sixty seconds.
> Gotta
> leave some time for politics, religion, and general day-dreaming."
>
>
>
> "Personally," I said, pouring a beer for a customer with a beard like
> a
> lumberjack, "I think you should carve out more time for your book, and
> spend less time gabbing with your friends on e-mail. Biggest time
waster
> ever invented."
>
>
>
> "Again, you're right," he said. A small blotch of ketchup was on his
> lip
> and I wished he would get it.
>
> "But, writing is a lonely business. I don't go to an office where I
> can
> interact with other people around the coffee machine. I mostly get to
hear
> people's opinions in essays and writing prompts. It's fascinating to
see
> the different directions people go with a similar starting point."
>
>
>
> He finished his burger and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
> "Another beer, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "No," he said, reaching in his pocket and handing me a twenty, folded
> into
> a triangle. "You've convinced me. I'm going back to my novel, where I
can
> at least pretend everything is okay."
>
>
>
> "After you finish, you can have a book signing here," I said.
>
>
>
> "That ought to bring in two or three new customers."
>
>
>
> I handed him his change. He said, "Keep the ones and just give me the
> five."
>
>
>
> "Mike, that's about forty-percent tip," I said.
>
>
>
> "Support your local bartender," he announced to the two other patrons,
> and
> then got up to leave.
>
>
>
> I held the door and he pinched my ass as he walked by. I gave him a
> quick
> jab to the shoulder but he shrugged it off and laughed.
>
>
>
> Two college-aged girls watched Mike tap his way down the street. They
> came
> into the bar, holding hands and bubbling with the excitement of new
love.
>
>
>
> "Hey, was that Mike Edison, the blind writer?" one of the girls asked.
> "I
> heard he lived around here."
>
>
>
> "Yeah," I said. "But, he thinks he's Al Sharpton."
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> stylist:
>
http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/jbron%40optonli
ne.net
>
------------------------------
Message: 7
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 15:27:35 -0600
From: "The Crowd" <the_crowd at cox.net>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Message-ID: <0B3E579CB036489EB30824E7DABECEA7 at JazminRainPC>
Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed; charset="iso-8859-1";
reply-type=original
I loved this piece. It made me laugh out-loud.
Thanks for sharing Chris,
Atty
------------------------------
Message: 8
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 17:17:11 -0500
From: "Anita Adkins" <aadkins7 at verizon.net>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Message-ID: <85827C3AB7CA4C07A809ACBA957A1E1B at AnitaAdkinsPC>
Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed; charset=iso-8859-1;
reply-type=original
Hi,Loved it. Great use of
speech and action and great handling of props. You had me there, and so
setting was good too. Anita
----- Original Message -----
From: "Chris Kuell" <ckuell at comcast.net>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 3:01 PM
Subject: [stylist] fiction
>
> 1,425 Words
>
>
>
> Just Call Me Al
>
>
>
>
>
> By Chris Kuell
>
>
>
> The jingle of the bell at the door caught me off guard. I was
> squatting in
> a very un-lady-like position, tightening a nut on the new faucet in
the
> double sink. Twenty past eleven was early, even for the biker crowd. I
> heard the tap, tap, tap of a cane and stood up to see Mike Edison, a
blind
> frequenter of my bar, The Chicken Bone Cafe. He made his way to the
corner
> stool, collapsed his cane and tucked it under his leg.
>
>
>
> "Hey, Mike. Haven't seen you much this winter. What've you been up
> to?"
>
>
>
> "Oh, you know, the usual," he said. "Training for the Olympics-I'm
> pole
> vaulting next summer. I'm also taking a welding and a photography
class at
> the Voc."
>
>
>
> "Smart-ass," I said, and poured him a pint.
>
>
>
> "Actually, I've been making pretty good progress on my novel. I'm on
> Chapter 17, a little over 200 pages."
>
>
>
> "Hey, that's great," I said. "Congratulations." I placed the beer on a
> coaster in front of him. With a well practiced ear, he found it
without
> difficulty.
>
>
>
> "So, why're you in here before eleven-thirty, instead of being home,
> writing a steamy sex scene in your book?"
>
>
>
> "Ain't no cure for the summertime blues." He sang the line, and
> thankfully, didn't continue. Ray Charles, he isn't.
>
>
>
> I clicked on the TV in the corner of the bar. "You and the wife
> arguing
> again?" Mike lived down the street, so he came here sometimes to cool
down
> and gain perspective when things weren't so glorious on the home
front.
>
>
>
> "Naw, that's not it," he said. He took a long pull off his beer. "Ahh.
> Like mother's milk."
>
>
>
> I've heard this expression from him a hundred times, and it's pretty
> well
> worn out.
>
>
>
> "No, me and the old lady are okay." Mike took another drink, and then
> looked me right in the chest. Now, I know he can't see, and he doesn't
> know that is where his gaze is focused. But at times, I have to
wonder.
>
>
>
> "You ever notice how I have a knack for pissing people off?"
>
>
>
> "That's not true, Mike," I said. "You seem to get along with
> everybody.
> Especially the ladies you buy drinks for."
>
>
>
> I turned on the faucet and checked for leaks, but everything was dry.
> Rosie Riveter comes through again.
>
> "There was that one night, though, when I thought I was going to have
> to
> take the bat to you and Steve. You had too much to drink and were
quite
> vocal in your opinion about Bush stealing the election."
>
>
>
> "I wasn't drunk," he broke in. "I was bullshit. I mean, the whole 2000
> election debacle was unconstitutional. But, I'm unpatriotic if I don't
> just bend over and take it."
>
>
>
> His face reddened and he stopped talking. After another sip of beer,
> he
> said, "Well, I pissed off a lot of people in the internet writer's
group I
> belong to by posting an anti-tea party satire."
>
>
>
> "What didn't they like?"
>
>
>
> He drained his beer and I poured him another. Nobody else had come in
> yet,
> so I didn't mind talking.
>
>
>
> "My commentary was mildly acidic, although, you would have fainted if
> you
> saw my first draft. This was the toned down version. I thought it was
> entertaining, thought it would make people laugh. And maybe, just
maybe,
> make people think seriously about our country, and what is best for
all
> Americans. Both today, and ten, twenty years from now."
>
>
>
> "Doesn't sound bad to me." I warmed up the small grill where I made
> burgers and sandwiches for the lunch crowd.
>
>
>
> "I didn't think it was. After I posted it, I thought of a dozen other
> points I should have included. You can guess how it went. The choir
> cheered, the republicans in the group think I'm a knee-jerk liberal,
and a
> handful think I hate Jesus."
>
>
>
> "Do you?" I asked. Bartenders and shrinks are masters of carrying on
> conversations with very few words. It's a real talent.
>
>
>
> "No, of course not. I love Jesus." He took a draw off his beer. "I
> also
> love Buddha, and Moses, and that Hindu God with all the arms, and
Mother
> earth. I'm still on the fence about Mohammed and Joseph Smith,
though." He
> leaned his head to one side, listening to the weather forecast on the
> television before continuing. "In fact, I probably love Jesus best of
all.
> I just don't believe in heaven, in the way most people do, so I don't
> think you have to be a Christian to get there." He absent-mindedly
swirled
> the beer in his glass. "I think there are many religions on this
planet to
> serve the people of the various cultures. To help them get through
this
> soap-opera we call life."
>
> "I try never to discuss politics or religion with people unless I know
> exactly where they stand," I said. "It's just asking for trouble. You
want
> a burger?"
>
>
>
> "Sure," he said. "You're right, I know. I've stirred up trouble a
> dozen
> times before on internet groups, I just can't seem to help it.
> Manipulation by fear and intolerance infuriates me." He sipped and
> scratched the nubs of beard on his face." They spew out lies and
> hypocrisy, and America eats it like Lassie on a T-bone."
>
>
>
> "Un-hunh," I said, flipping the sizzling burger.
>
>
>
> "I just want to shake them; tell them to wake up. But, then I realize
> I'm
> no better than the nut-jobs on the far-right of the political
spectrum."
>
>
>
> Mike sat in silence for a minute. Then he said, "You know what I was
> thinking about this morning when I was eating my Raisin Bran?"
>
>
>
> "What?"
>
>
>
> "I remind my self of Al Sharpton, which is not a compliment." He shook
> his
> head and rubbed one finger along the edge of his glass. "Now, I'm no
fan
> of Mr. Sharpton. He is a bigoted idiot who takes up causes primarily
to
> get his face on TV. But, even though nobody of power takes him
seriously,
> they have to listen, to appease him somehow, because he does have
> followers. In his loudmouthed, opportunistic, wacko kind of way, he
brings
> attention to African-American issues - and people notice. He makes
them
> think."
>
>
>
> The door jingled again with the arrival of fresh patrons. I set the
> burger
> down in front of Mike.
>
> "Ketchup at ten o'clock," I said, putting down a bottle.
>
>
>
> "Ketchup, Reagan's favorite vegetable," he said. He felt for the top
> of
> the hamburger bun and splashed a glob left of center.
>
> "It makes everybody's buns taste better."
>
>
>
> I laughed. "Do you ever stop thinking about sex, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "Sure. I only think about sex forty-five out of every sixty seconds.
> Gotta
> leave some time for politics, religion, and general day-dreaming."
>
>
>
> "Personally," I said, pouring a beer for a customer with a beard like
> a
> lumberjack, "I think you should carve out more time for your book, and
> spend less time gabbing with your friends on e-mail. Biggest time
waster
> ever invented."
>
>
>
> "Again, you're right," he said. A small blotch of ketchup was on his
> lip
> and I wished he would get it.
>
> "But, writing is a lonely business. I don't go to an office where I
> can
> interact with other people around the coffee machine. I mostly get to
hear
> people's opinions in essays and writing prompts. It's fascinating to
see
> the different directions people go with a similar starting point."
>
>
>
> He finished his burger and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
> "Another beer, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "No," he said, reaching in his pocket and handing me a twenty, folded
> into
> a triangle. "You've convinced me. I'm going back to my novel, where I
can
> at least pretend everything is okay."
>
>
>
> "After you finish, you can have a book signing here," I said.
>
>
>
> "That ought to bring in two or three new customers."
>
>
>
> I handed him his change. He said, "Keep the ones and just give me the
> five."
>
>
>
> "Mike, that's about forty-percent tip," I said.
>
>
>
> "Support your local bartender," he announced to the two other patrons,
> and
> then got up to leave.
>
>
>
> I held the door and he pinched my ass as he walked by. I gave him a
> quick
> jab to the shoulder but he shrugged it off and laughed.
>
>
>
> Two college-aged girls watched Mike tap his way down the street. They
> came
> into the bar, holding hands and bubbling with the excitement of new
love.
>
>
>
> "Hey, was that Mike Edison, the blind writer?" one of the girls asked.
> "I
> heard he lived around here."
>
>
>
> "Yeah," I said. "But, he thinks he's Al Sharpton."
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> stylist:
>
http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/aadkins7%40veri
zon.net
>
------------------------------
Message: 9
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 17:23:33 EST
From: LoriStay at aol.com
To: newmanrl at cox.net, stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: Re: [stylist] Political pieces and the list
Message-ID: <25d16.69c76e85.3a6226e5 at aol.com>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII"
It would seem to me this is a writers' list, in which we deal with the
problems of writing. Yes, there were some technical problems in
Judith's piece
which have been addressed, and that is fine. However, the fact that
the
subject was political does somewhat violate the limits of this list.
I realize you may not all agree with me. However, I am hoping that we
can
come to a compromise; Let's keep politics off limits for now. If a
piece is political when it is presented, please note at the beginning
that the
content is political, but the piece is presented for grammatical,
structural and punctuational feedback rather than political agreement or
disagreement.
Thanks.
Lori
------------------------------
Message: 10
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 17:30:58 EST
From: LoriStay at aol.com
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Message-ID: <263d8.426fbe49.3a6228a2 at aol.com>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="ISO-8859-1"
This is the sort of thing I don't want to see here.
Lori
In a message dated 1/14/11 3:47:24 PM, jbron at optonline.net writes:
> That's one heck of a mea colpa, Chris.? I just wanted to add to
> yesterday's
> heat did you know what Obama said about the new governor of Florida
before
> he was elected?? He said that he's a millionaire and a bunch of other
> things
> I don't remember.? His upshot was he should be shot.? So my dear
liberal
> friends, let's not run off at the mouth, or keyboard, about all those
> conservatives who draw pictures over the heads of Democrats.? Have a
great
> Saturday everyone, Judith
>
>
------------------------------
Message: 11
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 17:31:33 -0500
From: "cheryl echevarria" <cherylandmaxx at hotmail.com>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: [stylist] FYI received the stylist today
Message-ID: <BLU162-ds10D4D168FA522EDE268D0DA1F30 at phx.gbl>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
Who ever is mailing them out you must be careful, the envelope was never
sealed the strip was never taken off the flap of the envelope to seal
it, and thank god it was still in there.
The biggest compliment you can pay me is to recommend my services!
Cheryl Echevarria
http://www.Echevarriatravel.com<http://www.echevarriatravel.com/>
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om>
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ribe at yahoogroups.com>
----- Original Message -----
From: LoriStay at aol.com<mailto:LoriStay at aol.com>
To: newmanrl at cox.net<mailto:newmanrl at cox.net> ;
stylist at nfbnet.org<mailto:stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 5:23 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] Political pieces and the list
It would seem to me this is a writers' list, in which we deal with the
problems of writing. Yes, there were some technical problems in
Judith's piece
which have been addressed, and that is fine. However, the fact that
the
subject was political does somewhat violate the limits of this list.
I realize you may not all agree with me. However, I am hoping that
we can
come to a compromise; Let's keep politics off limits for now. If
a
piece is political when it is presented, please note at the beginning
that the
content is political, but the piece is presented for grammatical,
structural and punctuational feedback rather than political agreement
or
disagreement.
Thanks.
Lori
_______________________________________________
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------------------------------
Message: 12
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 17:32:05 EST
From: LoriStay at aol.com
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Message-ID: <264c3.37974b23.3a6228e5 at aol.com>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="ISO-8859-1"
Chris: This made me laugh. Thanks!
Lori
In a message dated 1/14/11 3:04:04 PM, ckuell at comcast.net writes:
> ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
> ? ?
> ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 1,425 Words
>
>
>
> Just Call Me Al
>
>
>
>
>
> By Chris Kuell
>
>
>
> The jingle of the bell at the door caught me off guard. I was
> squatting in
> a very un-lady-like position, tightening a nut on the new faucet in
the
> double sink. Twenty past eleven was early, even for the biker crowd. I
heard
> the tap, tap, tap of a cane and stood up to see Mike Edison, a blind
> frequenter of my bar, The Chicken Bone Cafe. He made his way to the
corner stool,
> collapsed his cane and tucked it under his leg.
>
>
>
> "Hey, Mike. Haven't seen you much this winter. What've you been up
> to?"
>
>
>
> "Oh, you know, the usual," he said. "Training for the Olympics-I'm
> pole
> vaulting next summer. I'm also taking a welding and a photography
class at
> the Voc."
>
>
>
> "Smart-ass," I said, and poured him a pint.
>
>
>
> "Actually, I've been making pretty good progress on my novel. I'm on
> Chapter 17, a little over 200 pages."
>
>
>
> "Hey, that's great," I said. "Congratulations." I placed the beer on a
> coaster in front of him. With a well practiced ear, he found it
without
> difficulty.
>
>
>
> "So, why're you in here before eleven-thirty, instead of being home,
> writing a steamy sex scene in your book?"
>
>
>
> "Ain't no cure for the summertime blues." He sang the line, and
> thankfully, didn't continue. Ray Charles, he isn't.
>
>
>
> I clicked on the TV in the corner of the bar. "You and the wife
> arguing
> again?" Mike lived down the street, so he came here sometimes to cool
down
> and gain perspective when things weren't so glorious on the home
front.
>
>
>
> "Naw, that's not it," he said. He took a long pull off his beer. "Ahh.
> Like mother's milk."
>
>
>
> I've heard this expression from him a hundred times, and it's pretty
> well
> worn out.
>
>
>
> "No, me and the old lady are okay." Mike took another drink, and then
> looked me right in the chest. Now, I know he can't see, and he doesn't
know
> that is where his gaze is focused. But at times, I have to wonder.
>
>
>
> "You ever notice how I have a knack for pissing people off?"
>
>
>
> "That's not true, Mike," I said. "You seem to get along with
> everybody.
> Especially the ladies you buy drinks for."
>
>
>
> I turned on the faucet and checked for leaks, but everything was dry.
> Rosie Riveter comes through again.
>
> "There was that one night, though, when I thought I was going to have
> to
> take the bat to you and Steve. You had too much to drink and were
quite
> vocal in your opinion about Bush stealing the election."
>
>
>
> "I wasn't drunk," he broke in. "I was bullshit. I mean, the whole 2000
> election debacle was unconstitutional. But, I'm unpatriotic if I don't
just
> bend over and take it."
>
>
>
> His face reddened and he stopped talking. After another sip of beer,
> he
> said, "Well, I pissed off a lot of people in the internet writer's
group I
> belong to by posting an anti-tea party satire."
>
>
>
> "What didn't they like?"
>
>
>
> He drained his beer and I poured him another. Nobody else had come in
> yet,
> so I didn't mind talking.
>
>
>
> "My commentary was mildly acidic, although, you would have fainted if
> you s aw my first draft. This was the toned down version. I thought it
> was entertaining, thought it would make people laugh. And maybe, just
> maybe, make people think seriously about our country, and what is best
> for all Americans. Both today, and ten, twenty years from now."
>
>
>
> "Doesn't sound bad to me." I warmed up the small grill where I made
> burgers and sandwiches for the lunch crowd.
>
>
>
> "I didn't think it was. After I posted it, I thought of a dozen other
> points I should have included. You can guess how it went. The choir
cheered,
> the republicans in the group think I'm a knee-jerk liberal, and a
handful
> think I hate Jesus."
>
>
>
> "Do you?" I asked. Bartenders and shrinks are masters of carrying on
> conversations with very few words. It's a real talent.
>
>
>
> "No, of course not. I love Jesus." He took a draw off his beer. "I
> also
> love Buddha, and Moses, and that Hindu God with all the arms, and
Mother
> earth. I'm still on the fence about Mohammed and Joseph Smith,
though." He
> leaned his head to one side, listening to the weather forecast on the
> television before continuing. "In fact, I probably love Jesus best of
all. I just
> don't believe in heaven, in the way most people do, so I don't think
you have
> to be a Christian to get there." He absent-mindedly swirled the beer
in
> his glass. "I think there are many religions on this planet to serve
the
> people of the various cultures. To help them get through this
soap-opera we
> call life."
>
> "I try never to discuss politics or religion with people unless I know
> exactly where they stand," I said. "It's just asking for trouble. You
want a
> burger?"
>
>
>
> "Sure," he said. "You're right, I know. I've stirred up trouble a
> dozen
> times before on internet groups, I just can't seem to help it.
Manipulation
> by fear and intolerance infuriates me." He sipped and scratched the
nubs of
> beard on his face." They spew out lies and hypocrisy, and America eats
it
> like Lassie on a T-bone."?
>
>
>
> "Un-hunh," I said, flipping the sizzling burger.
>
>
>
> "I just want to shake them; tell them to wake up. But, then I realize
> I'm
> no better than the nut-jobs on the far-right of the political
spectrum."
>
>
>
> Mike sat in silence for a minute. Then he said, "You know what I was
> thinking about this morning when I was eating my Raisin Bran?"
>
>
>
> "What?"
>
>
>
> "I remind my self of Al Sharpton, which is not a compliment." He shook
> his
> head and rubbed one finger along the edge of his glass. "Now, I'm no
fan
> of Mr. Sharpton. He is a bigoted idiot who takes up causes primarily
to get
> his face on TV. But, even though nobody of power takes him seriously,
they
> have to listen, to appease him somehow, because he does have
followers. In
> his loudmouthed, opportunistic, wacko kind of way, he brings attention
to
> African-American issues - and people notice. He makes them think."
>
>
>
> The door jingled again with the arrival of fresh patrons. I set the
> burger
> down in front of Mike.
>
> "Ketchup at ten o'clock," I said, putting down a bottle.
>
>
>
> "Ketchup, Reagan's favorite vegetable," he said.? He felt for the top
> of
> the hamburger bun and splashed a glob left of center.
>
> "It makes everybody's buns taste better."
>
>
>
> I laughed. "Do you ever stop thinking about sex, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "Sure. I only think about sex forty-five out of every sixty seconds.
> Gotta
> leave some time for politics, religion, and general day-dreaming."
>
>
>
> "Personally," I said, pouring a beer for a customer with a beard like
> a
> lumberjack, "I think you should carve out more time for your book, and
spend
> less time gabbing with your friends on e-mail. Biggest time waster
ever
> invented."
>
>
>
> "Again, you're right," he said. A small blotch of ketchup was on his
> lip
> and I wished he would get it.
>
> "But, writing is a lonely business. I don't go to an office where I
> can
> interact with other people around the coffee machine. I mostly get to
hear
> people's opinions in essays and writing prompts. It's fascinating to
see the
> different directions people go with a similar starting point."
>
>
>
> He finished his burger and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
> "Another beer, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "No," he said, reaching in his pocket and handing me a twenty, folded
> into
> a triangle. "You've convinced me. I'm going back to my novel, where I
can
> at least pretend everything is okay."
>
>
>
> "After you finish, you can have a book signing here," I said.
>
>
>
> "That ought to bring in two or three new customers."
>
>
>
> I handed him his change. He said, "Keep the ones and just give me the
> five."
>
>
>
> "Mike, that's about forty-percent tip," I said.
>
>
>
> "Support your local bartender," he announced to the two other patrons,
> and
> then got up to leave.
>
>
>
> I held the door and he pinched my ass as he walked by. I gave him a
> quick
> jab to the shoulder but he shrugged it off and laughed.
>
>
>
> Two college-aged girls watched Mike tap his way down the street. They
> came
> into the bar, holding hands and bubbling with the excitement of new
love.
>
>
>
> "Hey, was that Mike Edison, the blind writer?" one of the girls asked.
> "I
> heard he lived around here."
>
>
>
> "Yeah," I said. "But, he thinks he's Al Sharpton."
>
> ??
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> stylist:
>
http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/loristay%40aol.
com
>
>
>
------------------------------
Message: 13
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 17:38:50 -0600
From: "James H. \"Jim\" Canaday M.A. N6YR" <n6yr at sunflower.com>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Message-ID: <201101142338.p0ENcq8S013920 at smtp.sunflower.com>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed
Chris,
this is good and it flows really well.
I saw that typo Donna mentioned, too.
I think you have a misuse of words, instead of debacle I think you
meant defense of democracy [evil grin].
now, one thing I wanted a little more of in the story was descriptions:
so what does the barmaid look like? for that matter, does mike look
long and lean, a wolf, or is he built like a tank?
smell like what in the bar/shop?
good job Mike.
jc
At 02:01 PM 1/14/2011, you wrote:
>
>1,425 Words
>
>
>
> Just Call Me Al
>
>
>
>
>
>By Chris Kuell
>
>
>
>The jingle of the bell at the door caught me off guard. I was
>squatting in a very un-lady-like position, tightening a nut on the
>new faucet in the double sink. Twenty past eleven was early, even
>for the biker crowd. I heard the tap, tap, tap of a cane and stood
>up to see Mike Edison, a blind frequenter of my bar, The Chicken
>Bone Cafe. He made his way to the corner stool, collapsed his cane
>and tucked it under his leg.
>
>
>
>"Hey, Mike. Haven't seen you much this winter. What've you been up to?"
>
>
>
>"Oh, you know, the usual," he said. "Training for the Olympics-I'm
>pole vaulting next summer. I'm also taking a welding and a
>photography class at the Voc."
>
>
>
>"Smart-ass," I said, and poured him a pint.
>
>
>
>"Actually, I've been making pretty good progress on my novel. I'm on
>Chapter 17, a little over 200 pages."
>
>
>
>"Hey, that's great," I said. "Congratulations." I placed the beer on
>a coaster in front of him. With a well practiced ear, he found it
>without difficulty.
>
>
>
>"So, why're you in here before eleven-thirty, instead of being home,
>writing a steamy sex scene in your book?"
>
>
>
>"Ain't no cure for the summertime blues." He sang the line, and
>thankfully, didn't continue. Ray Charles, he isn't.
>
>
>
>I clicked on the TV in the corner of the bar. "You and the wife
>arguing again?" Mike lived down the street, so he came here
>sometimes to cool down and gain perspective when things weren't so
>glorious on the home front.
>
>
>
>"Naw, that's not it," he said. He took a long pull off his beer.
>"Ahh. Like mother's milk."
>
>
>
>I've heard this expression from him a hundred times, and it's pretty
>well worn out.
>
>
>
>"No, me and the old lady are okay." Mike took another drink, and
>then looked me right in the chest. Now, I know he can't see, and he
>doesn't know that is where his gaze is focused. But at times, I have to
wonder.
>
>
>
>"You ever notice how I have a knack for pissing people off?"
>
>
>
>"That's not true, Mike," I said. "You seem to get along with
>everybody. Especially the ladies you buy drinks for."
>
>
>
>I turned on the faucet and checked for leaks, but everything was
>dry. Rosie Riveter comes through again.
>
>"There was that one night, though, when I thought I was going to
>have to take the bat to you and Steve. You had too much to drink and
>were quite vocal in your opinion about Bush stealing the election."
>
>
>
>"I wasn't drunk," he broke in. "I was bullshit. I mean, the whole
>2000 election debacle was unconstitutional. But, I'm unpatriotic if
>I don't just bend over and take it."
>
>
>
>His face reddened and he stopped talking. After another sip of beer,
>he said, "Well, I pissed off a lot of people in the internet
>writer's group I belong to by posting an anti-tea party satire."
>
>
>
>"What didn't they like?"
>
>
>
>He drained his beer and I poured him another. Nobody else had come
>in yet, so I didn't mind talking.
>
>
>
>"My commentary was mildly acidic, although, you would have fainted
>if you saw my first draft. This was the toned down version. I
>thought it was entertaining, thought it would make people laugh. And
>maybe, just maybe, make people think seriously about our country,
>and what is best for all Americans. Both today, and ten, twenty
>years from now."
>
>
>
>"Doesn't sound bad to me." I warmed up the small grill where I made
>burgers and sandwiches for the lunch crowd.
>
>
>
>"I didn't think it was. After I posted it, I thought of a dozen
>other points I should have included. You can guess how it went. The
>choir cheered, the republicans in the group think I'm a knee-jerk
>liberal, and a handful think I hate Jesus."
>
>
>
>"Do you?" I asked. Bartenders and shrinks are masters of carrying on
>conversations with very few words. It's a real talent.
>
>
>
>"No, of course not. I love Jesus." He took a draw off his beer. "I
>also love Buddha, and Moses, and that Hindu God with all the arms,
>and Mother earth. I'm still on the fence about Mohammed and Joseph
>Smith, though." He leaned his head to one side, listening to the
>weather forecast on the television before continuing. "In fact, I
>probably love Jesus best of all. I just don't believe in heaven, in
>the way most people do, so I don't think you have to be a Christian
>to get there." He absent-mindedly swirled the beer in his glass. "I
>think there are many religions on this planet to serve the people of
>the various cultures. To help them get through this soap-opera we call
life."
>
> "I try never to discuss politics or religion with people unless I
> know exactly where they stand," I said. "It's just asking for
> trouble. You want a burger?"
>
>
>
>"Sure," he said. "You're right, I know. I've stirred up trouble a
>dozen times before on internet groups, I just can't seem to help it.
>Manipulation by fear and intolerance infuriates me." He sipped and
>scratched the nubs of beard on his face." They spew out lies and
>hypocrisy, and America eats it like Lassie on a T-bone."
>
>
>
>"Un-hunh," I said, flipping the sizzling burger.
>
>
>
>"I just want to shake them; tell them to wake up. But, then I
>realize I'm no better than the nut-jobs on the far-right of the
>political spectrum."
>
>
>
>Mike sat in silence for a minute. Then he said, "You know what I was
>thinking about this morning when I was eating my Raisin Bran?"
>
>
>
>"What?"
>
>
>
>"I remind my self of Al Sharpton, which is not a compliment." He
>shook his head and rubbed one finger along the edge of his glass.
>"Now, I'm no fan of Mr. Sharpton. He is a bigoted idiot who takes up
>causes primarily to get his face on TV. But, even though nobody of
>power takes him seriously, they have to listen, to appease him
>somehow, because he does have followers. In his loudmouthed,
>opportunistic, wacko kind of way, he brings attention to
>African-American issues - and people notice. He makes them think."
>
>
>
>The door jingled again with the arrival of fresh patrons. I set the
>burger down in front of Mike.
>
>"Ketchup at ten o'clock," I said, putting down a bottle.
>
>
>
>"Ketchup, Reagan's favorite vegetable," he said. He felt for the
>top of the hamburger bun and splashed a glob left of center.
>
>"It makes everybody's buns taste better."
>
>
>
>I laughed. "Do you ever stop thinking about sex, Mike?"
>
>
>
>"Sure. I only think about sex forty-five out of every sixty seconds.
>Gotta leave some time for politics, religion, and general
day-dreaming."
>
>
>
>"Personally," I said, pouring a beer for a customer with a beard
>like a lumberjack, "I think you should carve out more time for your
>book, and spend less time gabbing with your friends on e-mail.
>Biggest time waster ever invented."
>
>
>
>"Again, you're right," he said. A small blotch of ketchup was on his
>lip and I wished he would get it.
>
>"But, writing is a lonely business. I don't go to an office where I
>can interact with other people around the coffee machine. I mostly
>get to hear people's opinions in essays and writing prompts. It's
>fascinating to see the different directions people go with a similar
>starting point."
>
>
>
>He finished his burger and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
>"Another beer, Mike?"
>
>
>
>"No," he said, reaching in his pocket and handing me a twenty,
>folded into a triangle. "You've convinced me. I'm going back to my
>novel, where I can at least pretend everything is okay."
>
>
>
>"After you finish, you can have a book signing here," I said.
>
>
>
>"That ought to bring in two or three new customers."
>
>
>
>I handed him his change. He said, "Keep the ones and just give me the
>five."
>
>
>
>"Mike, that's about forty-percent tip," I said.
>
>
>
>"Support your local bartender," he announced to the two other
>patrons, and then got up to leave.
>
>
>
>I held the door and he pinched my ass as he walked by. I gave him a
>quick jab to the shoulder but he shrugged it off and laughed.
>
>
>
>Two college-aged girls watched Mike tap his way down the street.
>They came into the bar, holding hands and bubbling with the
>excitement of new love.
>
>
>
>"Hey, was that Mike Edison, the blind writer?" one of the girls
>asked. "I heard he lived around here."
>
>
>
>"Yeah," I said. "But, he thinks he's Al Sharpton."
>
>
>_______________________________________________
>Writers Division web site:
>http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
><http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
>stylist mailing list
>stylist at nfbnet.org
>http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
>To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
>stylist:
>http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/n6yr%40sunflow
>er.com
------------------------------
Message: 14
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 18:39:03 -0500
From: Kerry Thompson <kethompson1964 at gmail.com>
To: Judith Bron <jbron at optonline.net>
Cc: cosmoscat at earthlink.net, Writer's Division Mailing List
<stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] stylist Digest, Vol 81, Issue 21
Message-ID: <4D30DE97.2060808 at gmail.com>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1; format=flowed
Judith, involvement is the key. It never ceases to astound me how many
parents aren't involved, don't know what's going on in their kids'
lives. Of course, as kids, that's what we want, our parents just to butt
out and leave us alone. But a good parent, or maybe I should say one
with good parenting skills, knows how to strike the balance. For
instance, I have twin cousins who are two years older than me. It wasn't
till they were seniors in high school that my aunt cottoned onto the
fact that they couldn't read. I mean, like, hello! My parents always
knew what we were doing in school, what our homework was, when big
projects needed to be in by, and they made sure we did it. They didn't
ride us, they weren't obnoxious about it, they just kept abreast of
things. And, Mum was always on top of our health, and whether we were
acting normally or seemed to be in some kind of trouble. Seems to me,
that's what being a parent is all about, the job description. But, so
many people seem to think that all they have to do is produce the kid,
and society, the schools, some vague somebody else has responsibility
from there on out. And it just doesn't work. Children need to be looked
after by some specific somebody, be that Mama and Daddy, Gramma, Mrs.
Macarthy across the hall, somebody they know will always be there
looking out for them.
Oh, I shouldn't even get started. Gotta go get supper anyway,
fortunately. Otherwise, I'd rant till the cows come home. *wry grin*
Kerry
On 1/13/2011 7:06 PM, Judith Bron wrote:
> Kerry, I agree with you. I don't remember when it happened, but at
> least in New York State the government opened the doors of the mental
> institutions and told the residents to go their own way. The reason
> given was that they couldn't continue to hold people against their
> will. I agree with part of that, but what if the person was too ill
> or unstable to be let back into society? Yes, we can't hold people
> against their will, but what if that tperson is a danger to him or
> herself and society in general? These are not easy questions to
> answer. I think that when college professors, teachers, parents and
> others involved with a youngster see that the person is a danger to
> himself and others, there must be a plan to institutionalize the
> person and get him or her the help needed to re-enter society. Thanks
> Kerry, Judith
> ----- Original Message ----- From: "Kerry Thompson"
> <kethompson1964 at gmail.com>
> To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> Sent: Thursday, January 13, 2011 6:10 PM
> Subject: Re: [stylist] stylist Digest, Vol 81, Issue 21
>
>
>> Judith, your piece is reasoned and calm.
>>
>> I am what might be described as a Left Wing Democrat. Yet, I agree
>> with you completely that the leap on the part of some to blame the
>> Tea Party in general and Sarah Palin's hatred-filled rhetoric in
>> particular for the act of a demonstrably disturbed young man was
>> premature at best. We don't know whether politics in the conventional
>> sense played a part here, and we may never know.
>>
>> As a fervent Lefty, I could wish that this terrible occurrence leads
>> to the tightening of gun laws. But, I think we can all agree in
>> hoping that at last, after Virginia Tec, after Columbine, after
>> seemingly countless instances over a good decade and a half of
>> children and young people with social problems and demonstrated
>> mental instability trying to solve their problems by mass murder, our
>> society will formulate a plan to identify, help and protect
>> youngsters with such problems. Doing so is not only the morally right
>> thing to do. As is becoming increasingly obvious, it is also a matter
>> of national security.
>>
>> Kerry
>> _______________________________________________
>> Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
>> <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>>
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>>
>>
>
>
>
------------------------------
Message: 15
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 17:40:59 -0600
From: "James H. \"Jim\" Canaday M.A. N6YR" <n6yr at sunflower.com>
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] Fwd: Re: fiction
Message-ID: <201101142341.p0ENf1F7014134 at smtp.sunflower.com>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed
just thought I'd add, mischeviously, the closing of my last e-mail
was done on purpose. lol
jc
>Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 17:38:50 -0600
>To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
>From: "James H. \"Jim\" Canaday M.A. N6YR" <n6yr at sunflower.com>
>Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
>
>Chris,
>this is good and it flows really well.
>
>I saw that typo Donna mentioned, too.
>
>I think you have a misuse of words, instead of debacle I think you
>meant defense of democracy [evil grin].
>
>now, one thing I wanted a little more of in the story was descriptions:
>so what does the barmaid look like? for that matter, does mike look
>long and lean, a wolf, or is he built like a tank?
>
>smell like what in the bar/shop?
>
>good job Mike.
>jc
>
>At 02:01 PM 1/14/2011, you wrote:
>>
>>1,425 Words
>>
>>
>>
>> Just Call Me Al
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>By Chris Kuell
>>
>>
>>
>>The jingle of the bell at the door caught me off guard. I was
>>squatting in a very un-lady-like position, tightening a nut on the
>>new faucet in the double sink. Twenty past eleven was early, even
>>for the biker crowd. I heard the tap, tap, tap of a cane and stood
>>up to see Mike Edison, a blind frequenter of my bar, The Chicken
>>Bone Cafe. He made his way to the corner stool, collapsed his cane
>>and tucked it under his leg.
>>
>>
>>
>>"Hey, Mike. Haven't seen you much this winter. What've you been up
>>to?"
>>
>>
>>
>>"Oh, you know, the usual," he said. "Training for the Olympics-I'm
>>pole vaulting next summer. I'm also taking a welding and a
>>photography class at the Voc."
>>
>>
>>
>>"Smart-ass," I said, and poured him a pint.
>>
>>
>>
>>"Actually, I've been making pretty good progress on my novel. I'm
>>on Chapter 17, a little over 200 pages."
>>
>>
>>
>>"Hey, that's great," I said. "Congratulations." I placed the beer
>>on a coaster in front of him. With a well practiced ear, he found
>>it without difficulty.
>>
>>
>>
>>"So, why're you in here before eleven-thirty, instead of being
>>home, writing a steamy sex scene in your book?"
>>
>>
>>
>>"Ain't no cure for the summertime blues." He sang the line, and
>>thankfully, didn't continue. Ray Charles, he isn't.
>>
>>
>>
>>I clicked on the TV in the corner of the bar. "You and the wife
>>arguing again?" Mike lived down the street, so he came here
>>sometimes to cool down and gain perspective when things weren't so
>>glorious on the home front.
>>
>>
>>
>>"Naw, that's not it," he said. He took a long pull off his beer.
>>"Ahh. Like mother's milk."
>>
>>
>>
>>I've heard this expression from him a hundred times, and it's
>>pretty well worn out.
>>
>>
>>
>>"No, me and the old lady are okay." Mike took another drink, and
>>then looked me right in the chest. Now, I know he can't see, and he
>>doesn't know that is where his gaze is focused. But at times, I have
to wonder.
>>
>>
>>
>>"You ever notice how I have a knack for pissing people off?"
>>
>>
>>
>>"That's not true, Mike," I said. "You seem to get along with
>>everybody. Especially the ladies you buy drinks for."
>>
>>
>>
>>I turned on the faucet and checked for leaks, but everything was
>>dry. Rosie Riveter comes through again.
>>
>>"There was that one night, though, when I thought I was going to
>>have to take the bat to you and Steve. You had too much to drink
>>and were quite vocal in your opinion about Bush stealing the
election."
>>
>>
>>
>>"I wasn't drunk," he broke in. "I was bullshit. I mean, the whole
>>2000 election debacle was unconstitutional. But, I'm unpatriotic if
>>I don't just bend over and take it."
>>
>>
>>
>>His face reddened and he stopped talking. After another sip of
>>beer, he said, "Well, I pissed off a lot of people in the internet
>>writer's group I belong to by posting an anti-tea party satire."
>>
>>
>>
>>"What didn't they like?"
>>
>>
>>
>>He drained his beer and I poured him another. Nobody else had come
>>in yet, so I didn't mind talking.
>>
>>
>>
>>"My commentary was mildly acidic, although, you would have fainted
>>if you saw my first draft. This was the toned down version. I
>>thought it was entertaining, thought it would make people laugh.
>>And maybe, just maybe, make people think seriously about our
>>country, and what is best for all Americans. Both today, and ten,
>>twenty years from now."
>>
>>
>>
>>"Doesn't sound bad to me." I warmed up the small grill where I made
>>burgers and sandwiches for the lunch crowd.
>>
>>
>>
>>"I didn't think it was. After I posted it, I thought of a dozen
>>other points I should have included. You can guess how it went. The
>>choir cheered, the republicans in the group think I'm a knee-jerk
>>liberal, and a handful think I hate Jesus."
>>
>>
>>
>>"Do you?" I asked. Bartenders and shrinks are masters of carrying
>>on conversations with very few words. It's a real talent.
>>
>>
>>
>>"No, of course not. I love Jesus." He took a draw off his beer. "I
>>also love Buddha, and Moses, and that Hindu God with all the arms,
>>and Mother earth. I'm still on the fence about Mohammed and Joseph
>>Smith, though." He leaned his head to one side, listening to the
>>weather forecast on the television before continuing. "In fact, I
>>probably love Jesus best of all. I just don't believe in heaven, in
>>the way most people do, so I don't think you have to be a Christian
>>to get there." He absent-mindedly swirled the beer in his glass. "I
>>think there are many religions on this planet to serve the people
>>of the various cultures. To help them get through this soap-opera
>>we call life."
>>
>> "I try never to discuss politics or religion with people unless I
>> know exactly where they stand," I said. "It's just asking for
>> trouble. You want a burger?"
>>
>>
>>
>>"Sure," he said. "You're right, I know. I've stirred up trouble a
>>dozen times before on internet groups, I just can't seem to help
>>it. Manipulation by fear and intolerance infuriates me." He sipped
>>and scratched the nubs of beard on his face." They spew out lies
>>and hypocrisy, and America eats it like Lassie on a T-bone."
>>
>>
>>
>>"Un-hunh," I said, flipping the sizzling burger.
>>
>>
>>
>>"I just want to shake them; tell them to wake up. But, then I
>>realize I'm no better than the nut-jobs on the far-right of the
>>political spectrum."
>>
>>
>>
>>Mike sat in silence for a minute. Then he said, "You know what I
>>was thinking about this morning when I was eating my Raisin Bran?"
>>
>>
>>
>>"What?"
>>
>>
>>
>>"I remind my self of Al Sharpton, which is not a compliment." He
>>shook his head and rubbed one finger along the edge of his glass.
>>"Now, I'm no fan of Mr. Sharpton. He is a bigoted idiot who takes
>>up causes primarily to get his face on TV. But, even though nobody
>>of power takes him seriously, they have to listen, to appease him
>>somehow, because he does have followers. In his loudmouthed,
>>opportunistic, wacko kind of way, he brings attention to
>>African-American issues - and people notice. He makes them think."
>>
>>
>>
>>The door jingled again with the arrival of fresh patrons. I set the
>>burger down in front of Mike.
>>
>>"Ketchup at ten o'clock," I said, putting down a bottle.
>>
>>
>>
>>"Ketchup, Reagan's favorite vegetable," he said. He felt for the
>>top of the hamburger bun and splashed a glob left of center.
>>
>>"It makes everybody's buns taste better."
>>
>>
>>
>>I laughed. "Do you ever stop thinking about sex, Mike?"
>>
>>
>>
>>"Sure. I only think about sex forty-five out of every sixty
>>seconds. Gotta leave some time for politics, religion, and general
>>day-dreaming."
>>
>>
>>
>>"Personally," I said, pouring a beer for a customer with a beard
>>like a lumberjack, "I think you should carve out more time for your
>>book, and spend less time gabbing with your friends on e-mail.
>>Biggest time waster ever invented."
>>
>>
>>
>>"Again, you're right," he said. A small blotch of ketchup was on
>>his lip and I wished he would get it.
>>
>>"But, writing is a lonely business. I don't go to an office where I
>>can interact with other people around the coffee machine. I mostly
>>get to hear people's opinions in essays and writing prompts. It's
>>fascinating to see the different directions people go with a
>>similar starting point."
>>
>>
>>
>>He finished his burger and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
>>"Another beer, Mike?"
>>
>>
>>
>>"No," he said, reaching in his pocket and handing me a twenty,
>>folded into a triangle. "You've convinced me. I'm going back to my
>>novel, where I can at least pretend everything is okay."
>>
>>
>>
>>"After you finish, you can have a book signing here," I said.
>>
>>
>>
>>"That ought to bring in two or three new customers."
>>
>>
>>
>>I handed him his change. He said, "Keep the ones and just give me the
>>five."
>>
>>
>>
>>"Mike, that's about forty-percent tip," I said.
>>
>>
>>
>>"Support your local bartender," he announced to the two other
>>patrons, and then got up to leave.
>>
>>
>>
>>I held the door and he pinched my ass as he walked by. I gave him a
>>quick jab to the shoulder but he shrugged it off and laughed.
>>
>>
>>
>>Two college-aged girls watched Mike tap his way down the street.
>>They came into the bar, holding hands and bubbling with the
>>excitement of new love.
>>
>>
>>
>>"Hey, was that Mike Edison, the blind writer?" one of the girls
>>asked. "I heard he lived around here."
>>
>>
>>
>>"Yeah," I said. "But, he thinks he's Al Sharpton."
>>
>>
>>_______________________________________________
>>Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
>><http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>>
>>stylist mailing list
>>stylist at nfbnet.org
>>http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
>>To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info
>>for stylist:
>>http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/n6yr%40sunflo
wer.com
------------------------------
Message: 16
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 19:37:58 -0600
From: Brad Dunse <lists at braddunsemusic.com>
To: cosmoscat at earthlink.net, Writer's Division Mailing List
<stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: [stylist] Parental thoughts and subject line Re: stylist
Digest, Vol 81, Issue 21
Message-ID: <129505548378983734 at t14.hostbaby.com>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed
Kerry,
I think you hit on the very topic that affects the fabric of
society, or should I say the sound of that fabric tearing via nightly
newscasts and headlines. Parents need to raise the kids and not let
it up to schools, after school events, or other influences.
Parenthood goes beyond treating the lady/gentleman right at the
candle lit dinner and sparkle in the eye. Responsibility starts with
preparation of mentality and intention long before the delivery room
and doesn't end until they are adults and even then guidance is good.
It is tough enough to keep kids on the straight and narrow with as
much immoral and undesirable influences on them, aside from letting
them to the wolves as latch key kids.
On a different note I wonder if it isn't too much to ask when
replying to change the subject line to the topic you're responding
to. The digest mode can carry many topics within so if that's doable
it'd be appreciated. Thanks.
Brad
------------------------------
Message: 17
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 20:55:37 -0500
From: Donna Hill <penatwork at epix.net>
To: Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] OT: Pennsylvania Jaws users sought for blog
accessibility study, compensation given
Message-ID: <4D30FE99.1010206 at epix.net>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1; format=flowed
Judith,
I know he did use some New Yorkers in previous studies. I'll mention it
to him.
Donna
Read Donna's articles on
Suite 101:
www.suite101.com/profile.cfm/donna_hill
Ezine Articles:
http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=D._W._Hill
American Chronicle:
www.americanchronicle.com/authors/view/3885
Connect with Donna on
Twitter:
www.twitter.com/dewhill
LinkedIn:
www.linkedin.com/in/dwh99
FaceBook:
www.facebook.com/donna.w.hill.
Hear clips from "The Last Straw" at:
cdbaby.com/cd/donnahill
Apple I-Tunes
phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?playListId=25924437
4
Check out the "Sound in Sight" CD project
Donna is Head of Media Relations for the nonprofit
Performing Arts Division of the National Federation of the Blind:
www.padnfb.org
On 1/14/2011 12:23 PM, Judith Bron wrote:
> This sounds terrific! Ask them if they want to start this in New
> York! Heaven knows we need it! Judith
> ----- Original Message ----- From: "Donna Hill" <penatwork at epix.net>
> To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>; "Performing Arts Division list"
> <perform-talk at nfbnet.org>
> Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 12:05 PM
> Subject: [stylist] OT: Pennsylvania Jaws users sought for blog
> accessibility study, compensation given
>
>
>> Hi Friends,
>> The following is from Dr. Brian Wentz, Keystone College. Donna
>> ***
>> My name is Dr. Brian Wentz, and I am an instructor of Information
>> Technology in the Division of Business, Management, and Technology at
>> Keystone College
>> in La Plume, PA. I and three of my Information Technology students
>> are conducting a research study with users who are blind to learn
>> more about the usability
>> of adding comments on web-based blog interfaces.
>>
>> With a better understanding of what specific problems are
>> experienced, the goal is to provide some concrete suggestions for
>> improving the user experience.
>> The hope is that the results of this study will have beneficial
>> effects to make blog posting more usable for blind users.
>>
>> Participants will be asked to answer questions for a pre-session
>> survey. Next they will conduct a number of tasks in certain blog
>> interfaces as described
>> by the researchers. These tasks will be completed on a pre-configured
>> netbook with the JAWS screen reader, an external keyboard, and
>> pre-configured blog
>> accounts. While performing these tasks, the researchers will write
>> down observational notes. Keystrokes on the computer will also be
>> recorded using keylogging
>> software. After attempting the tasks in the blog interfaces,
>> participants will be asked additional questions to summarize the
>> experience.
>>
>> The approximate time required to participate in this research is
>> 30-45 minutes, and we can travel to your home or workplace to conduct
>> the evaluation.
>> We will bring all necessary equipment, so you will not need to
>> provide anything.
>>
>> Participation in this study is voluntary, and you are at liberty to
>> withdraw your consent to the experiment and discontinue participation
>> at any time without
>> prejudice. Personal information or accounts will not be used at any
>> time.
>>
>> All information will remain strictly confidential, and once it is
>> anonymized the original information will be stored in a locked safe
>> in my office at Keystone
>> College. Only Brian Wentz will have access to this safe.
>> For your participation in this study, you will receive compensation
>> which will be payable after the evaluation session. To participate,
>> you must be 18
>> years or older, must have experience with the JAWS screen reader, and
>> have no residual vision and not be able to use screen magnification
>> software. We
>> expect to be in the Pittsburgh area March 14-16, in the Philadelphia
>> area, March 17-18, in the Harrisburg area March 21, and we have
>> flexible dates for
>> the Scranton area. If you are interested in participating, please
>> contact me at
>> brian.wentz at keystone.edu
>>
>>
>> Thank you,
>> Brian Wentz
>> 717-514-9891
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> --
>> Read Donna's articles on
>> Suite 101:
>> www.suite101.com/profile.cfm/donna_hill
>> Ezine Articles:
>> http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=D._W._Hill
>> American Chronicle:
>> www.americanchronicle.com/authors/view/3885
>>
>> Connect with Donna on
>> Twitter:
>> www.twitter.com/dewhill
>> LinkedIn:
>> www.linkedin.com/in/dwh99
>> FaceBook:
>> www.facebook.com/donna.w.hill.
>>
>> Hear clips from "The Last Straw" at:
>> cdbaby.com/cd/donnahill
>> Apple I-Tunes
>> phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?playListId=25924
>> 4374
>>
>>
>> Check out the "Sound in Sight" CD project
>> Donna is Head of Media Relations for the nonprofit Performing Arts
>> Division of the National Federation of the Blind: www.padnfb.org
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> E-mail message checked by Spyware Doctor (7.0.0.514) Database
>> version: 6.16700 http://www.pctools.com/en/spyware-doctor-antivirus/
>>
>> _______________________________________________
>> Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
>> <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>>
>> stylist mailing list
>> stylist at nfbnet.org
>> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
>> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
>> stylist:
>>
http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/jbron%40optonli
ne.net
>>
>>
>
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
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>
>
>
>
> E-mail message checked by Spyware Doctor (7.0.0.514)
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------------------------------
Message: 18
Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2011 21:14:08 -0600
From: "Robert Leslie Newman" <newmanrl at cox.net>
To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] FYI received the stylist today
Message-ID: <002c01cbb462$461d4870$d257d950$@cox.net>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
The use of "Free matter for the Blind," requires that the envelop not be
sealed. (I'll have us talk it over; I think you are saying that you have
received the mag with the flap sealed, right? Like, I don't know how
strict the post office really is on this; but the law is clear, they
need to have access to the contents, if they want to make sure that the
--- contents ---- are for the blind, large print in this case.)
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of cheryl echevarria
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 4:32 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: [stylist] FYI received the stylist today
Who ever is mailing them out you must be careful, the envelope was never
sealed the strip was never taken off the flap of the envelope to seal
it, and thank god it was still in there.
The biggest compliment you can pay me is to recommend my services!
Cheryl Echevarria
http://www.Echevarriatravel.com<http://www.echevarriatravel.com/>
1-866-580-5574
631-456-5394
Reservations at echevarriatravel.com<mailto:Reservations at echevarriatravel.c
om>
Affiliated as an Independent Contractor with Montrose Travel
CST-1018299-10 Affiliated as an Independent Contractor with Absolute
Cruise and Travel Inc.
join my yahoogroup
echevarriatravel-subscribe at yahoogroups.com<mailto:echevarriatravel-subsc
ribe
@yahoogroups.com>
----- Original Message -----
From: LoriStay at aol.com<mailto:LoriStay at aol.com>
To: newmanrl at cox.net<mailto:newmanrl at cox.net> ;
stylist at nfbnet.org<mailto:stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 5:23 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] Political pieces and the list
It would seem to me this is a writers' list, in which we deal with the
problems of writing. Yes, there were some technical problems in
Judith's
piece
which have been addressed, and that is fine. However, the fact that
the
subject was political does somewhat violate the limits of this list.
I realize you may not all agree with me. However, I am hoping that
we
can
come to a compromise; Let's keep politics off limits for now. If
a
piece is political when it is presented, please note at the beginning
that the
content is political, but the piece is presented for grammatical,
structural and punctuational feedback rather than political agreement
or
disagreement.
Thanks.
Lori
_______________________________________________
Writers Division web site:
http://www.nfb-writers-division.org<http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/
>
<http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/<http://www.nfb-writers-division.or
g/>>
stylist mailing list
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To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
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andm
axx%40hotmail.com> _______________________________________________
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------------------------------
Message: 19
Date: Sat, 15 Jan 2011 06:38:02 -0500
From: "cheryl echevarria" <cherylandmaxx at hotmail.com>
To: <newmanrl at cox.net>, "Writer's Division Mailing List"
<stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] FYI received the stylist today
Message-ID: <BLU162-ds8DC5E5E58789F5EB440C3A1F20 at phx.gbl>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
in the past people have used the clip envelopes, don't know what they
are called, this is clipped and stays closed but not sealed.
The biggest compliment you can pay me is to recommend my services!
Cheryl Echevarria
http://www.Echevarriatravel.com<http://www.echevarriatravel.com/>
1-866-580-5574
631-456-5394
Reservations at echevarriatravel.com<mailto:Reservations at echevarriatravel.c
om>
Affiliated as an Independent Contractor with Montrose Travel
CST-1018299-10 Affiliated as an Independent Contractor with Absolute
Cruise and Travel Inc.
join my yahoogroup
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----- Original Message -----
From: Robert Leslie Newman<mailto:newmanrl at cox.net>
To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'<mailto:stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 10:14 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] FYI received the stylist today
The use of "Free matter for the Blind," requires that the envelop not
be
sealed. (I'll have us talk it over; I think you are saying that you
have
received the mag with the flap sealed, right? Like, I don't know how
strict
the post office really is on this; but the law is clear, they need to
have
access to the contents, if they want to make sure that the ---
contents ----
are for the blind, large print in this case.)
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org<mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org>
[mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of cheryl echevarria
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 4:32 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: [stylist] FYI received the stylist today
Who ever is mailing them out you must be careful, the envelope was
never
sealed the strip was never taken off the flap of the envelope to seal
it,
and thank god it was still in there.
The biggest compliment you can pay me is to recommend my services!
Cheryl Echevarria
http://www.Echevarriatravel.com<http://www.echevarriatravel.com/<http://
www.echevarriatravel.com%3chttp//www.echevarriatravel.com/>>
1-866-580-5574
631-456-5394
Reservations at echevarriatravel.com<mailto:Reservations at echevarriatravel.c
om<mailto:Reservations at echevarriatravel.com%3Cmailto:Reservations at echeva
rriatravel.com>>
Affiliated as an Independent Contractor with Montrose Travel
CST-1018299-10
Affiliated as an Independent Contractor with Absolute Cruise and
Travel Inc.
join my yahoogroup
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----- Original Message -----
From:
LoriStay at aol.com<mailto:LoriStay at aol.com<mailto:LoriStay at aol.com%3Cmailt
o:LoriStay at aol.com>>
To:
newmanrl at cox.net<mailto:newmanrl at cox.net<mailto:newmanrl at cox.net%3Cmailt
o:newmanrl at cox.net>> ;
stylist at nfbnet.org<mailto:stylist at nfbnet.org<mailto:stylist at nfbnet.org%3
Cmailto:stylist at nfbnet.org>>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 5:23 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] Political pieces and the list
It would seem to me this is a writers' list, in which we deal with
the
problems of writing. Yes, there were some technical problems in
Judith's
piece
which have been addressed, and that is fine. However, the fact
that the
subject was political does somewhat violate the limits of this list.
I realize you may not all agree with me. However, I am hoping that
we
can
come to a compromise; Let's keep politics off limits for now.
If a
piece is political when it is presented, please note at the
beginning that
the
content is political, but the piece is presented for grammatical,
structural and punctuational feedback rather than political
agreement or
disagreement.
Thanks.
Lori
_______________________________________________
Writers Division web site:
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<http://www.nfb-writers-division.org%3chttp//www.nfb-writers-division.or
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------------------------------
Message: 20
Date: Sat, 15 Jan 2011 09:55:09 -0600
From: "Robert Leslie Newman" <newmanrl at cox.net>
To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] FYI received the stylist today
Message-ID: <000901cbb4cc$960773f0$c2165bd0$@cox.net>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Very good! (Kind of one of those "no-brainer" type of thing Not saying
that we who sent out the print copies are lacking in a brain or in brain
power; we will look into that type of envelope and --- do appreciate the
"heads-up.)
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of cheryl echevarria
Sent: Saturday, January 15, 2011 5:38 AM
To: newmanrl at cox.net; Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] FYI received the stylist today
in the past people have used the clip envelopes, don't know what they
are called, this is clipped and stays closed but not sealed.
The biggest compliment you can pay me is to recommend my services!
Cheryl Echevarria
http://www.Echevarriatravel.com<http://www.echevarriatravel.com/>
1-866-580-5574
631-456-5394
Reservations at echevarriatravel.com<mailto:Reservations at echevarriatravel.c
om>
Affiliated as an Independent Contractor with Montrose Travel
CST-1018299-10 Affiliated as an Independent Contractor with Absolute
Cruise and Travel Inc.
join my yahoogroup
echevarriatravel-subscribe at yahoogroups.com<mailto:echevarriatravel-subsc
ribe
@yahoogroups.com>
----- Original Message -----
From: Robert Leslie Newman<mailto:newmanrl at cox.net>
To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'<mailto:stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 10:14 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] FYI received the stylist today
The use of "Free matter for the Blind," requires that the envelop not
be
sealed. (I'll have us talk it over; I think you are saying that you
have
received the mag with the flap sealed, right? Like, I don't know how
strict
the post office really is on this; but the law is clear, they need to
have
access to the contents, if they want to make sure that the ---
contents
----
are for the blind, large print in this case.)
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org<mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org>
[mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of cheryl echevarria
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 4:32 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: [stylist] FYI received the stylist today
Who ever is mailing them out you must be careful, the envelope was
never
sealed the strip was never taken off the flap of the envelope to seal
it,
and thank god it was still in there.
The biggest compliment you can pay me is to recommend my services!
Cheryl Echevarria
http://www.Echevarriatravel.com<http://www.echevarriatravel.com/<http://
www.
echevarriatravel.com%3chttp//www.echevarriatravel.com/>>
1-866-580-5574
631-456-5394
Reservations at echevarriatravel.com<mailto:Reservations at echevarriatravel.c
om<m
ailto:Reservations at echevarriatravel.com%3Cmailto:Reservations at echevarria
trav
el.com>>
Affiliated as an Independent Contractor with Montrose Travel
CST-1018299-10
Affiliated as an Independent Contractor with Absolute Cruise and
Travel Inc.
join my yahoogroup
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----- Original Message -----
From:
LoriStay at aol.com<mailto:LoriStay at aol.com<mailto:LoriStay at aol.com%3Cmailt
o:Lo
riStay at aol.com>>
To:
newmanrl at cox.net<mailto:newmanrl at cox.net<mailto:newmanrl at cox.net%3Cmailt
o:ne
wmanrl at cox.net>> ;
stylist at nfbnet.org<mailto:stylist at nfbnet.org<mailto:stylist at nfbnet.org%3
Cmai
lto:stylist at nfbnet.org>>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 5:23 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] Political pieces and the list
It would seem to me this is a writers' list, in which we deal with
the
problems of writing. Yes, there were some technical problems in
Judith's
piece
which have been addressed, and that is fine. However, the fact
that
the
subject was political does somewhat violate the limits of this list.
I realize you may not all agree with me. However, I am hoping that
we
can
come to a compromise; Let's keep politics off limits for now.
If a
piece is political when it is presented, please note at the
beginning that
the
content is political, but the piece is presented for grammatical,
structural and punctuational feedback rather than political
agreement or
disagreement.
Thanks.
Lori
_______________________________________________
Writers Division web site:
http://www.nfb-writers-division.org<http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/
<htt
p://www.nfb-writers-division.org%3chttp//www.nfb-writers-division.org/>>
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------------------------------
Message: 21
Date: Sat, 15 Jan 2011 10:14:34 -0600
From: "Robert Leslie Newman" <newmanrl at cox.net>
To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Message-ID: <000f01cbb4cf$4c9e3de0$e5dab9a0$@cox.net>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
I too enjoyed the story. And as was suggested, a little bit more info at
a few key points would be nice- I really didn't know the first character
being presented was a woman until a ways in (you'd think the reference
to the squatting thing would have been the point that tripped my
thoughts to female, but I really thought it was a guy doing that
thinking, and sure maybe being a little sexist in his description.
(Those little add-in references of smell or sound that an author can
use, sure can add to the feel of a story.)
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Anita Adkins
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 4:17 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Hi,Loved it. Great use of
speech and action and great handling of props. You had me there, and so
setting was good too. Anita
----- Original Message -----
From: "Chris Kuell" <ckuell at comcast.net>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 3:01 PM
Subject: [stylist] fiction
>
> 1,425 Words
>
>
>
> Just Call Me Al
>
>
>
>
>
> By Chris Kuell
>
>
>
> The jingle of the bell at the door caught me off guard. I was
> squatting in a very un-lady-like position, tightening a nut on the new
> faucet in the double sink. Twenty past eleven was early, even for the
> biker crowd. I heard the tap, tap, tap of a cane and stood up to see
> Mike Edison, a blind frequenter of my bar, The Chicken Bone Cafe. He
> made his way to the corner stool, collapsed his cane and tucked it
under
his leg.
>
>
>
> "Hey, Mike. Haven't seen you much this winter. What've you been up
> to?"
>
>
>
> "Oh, you know, the usual," he said. "Training for the Olympics-I'm
> pole vaulting next summer. I'm also taking a welding and a photography
> class at the Voc."
>
>
>
> "Smart-ass," I said, and poured him a pint.
>
>
>
> "Actually, I've been making pretty good progress on my novel. I'm on
> Chapter 17, a little over 200 pages."
>
>
>
> "Hey, that's great," I said. "Congratulations." I placed the beer on a
> coaster in front of him. With a well practiced ear, he found it
> without difficulty.
>
>
>
> "So, why're you in here before eleven-thirty, instead of being home,
> writing a steamy sex scene in your book?"
>
>
>
> "Ain't no cure for the summertime blues." He sang the line, and
> thankfully, didn't continue. Ray Charles, he isn't.
>
>
>
> I clicked on the TV in the corner of the bar. "You and the wife
> arguing again?" Mike lived down the street, so he came here sometimes
> to cool down and gain perspective when things weren't so glorious on
the
home front.
>
>
>
> "Naw, that's not it," he said. He took a long pull off his beer. "Ahh.
> Like mother's milk."
>
>
>
> I've heard this expression from him a hundred times, and it's pretty
> well worn out.
>
>
>
> "No, me and the old lady are okay." Mike took another drink, and then
> looked me right in the chest. Now, I know he can't see, and he doesn't
> know that is where his gaze is focused. But at times, I have to
wonder.
>
>
>
> "You ever notice how I have a knack for pissing people off?"
>
>
>
> "That's not true, Mike," I said. "You seem to get along with
> everybody.
> Especially the ladies you buy drinks for."
>
>
>
> I turned on the faucet and checked for leaks, but everything was dry.
> Rosie Riveter comes through again.
>
> "There was that one night, though, when I thought I was going to have
> to take the bat to you and Steve. You had too much to drink and were
> quite vocal in your opinion about Bush stealing the election."
>
>
>
> "I wasn't drunk," he broke in. "I was bullshit. I mean, the whole 2000
> election debacle was unconstitutional. But, I'm unpatriotic if I don't
> just bend over and take it."
>
>
>
> His face reddened and he stopped talking. After another sip of beer,
> he said, "Well, I pissed off a lot of people in the internet writer's
> group I belong to by posting an anti-tea party satire."
>
>
>
> "What didn't they like?"
>
>
>
> He drained his beer and I poured him another. Nobody else had come in
> yet, so I didn't mind talking.
>
>
>
> "My commentary was mildly acidic, although, you would have fainted if
> you saw my first draft. This was the toned down version. I thought it
> was entertaining, thought it would make people laugh. And maybe, just
> maybe, make people think seriously about our country, and what is best
> for all Americans. Both today, and ten, twenty years from now."
>
>
>
> "Doesn't sound bad to me." I warmed up the small grill where I made
> burgers and sandwiches for the lunch crowd.
>
>
>
> "I didn't think it was. After I posted it, I thought of a dozen other
> points I should have included. You can guess how it went. The choir
> cheered, the republicans in the group think I'm a knee-jerk liberal,
> and a handful think I hate Jesus."
>
>
>
> "Do you?" I asked. Bartenders and shrinks are masters of carrying on
> conversations with very few words. It's a real talent.
>
>
>
> "No, of course not. I love Jesus." He took a draw off his beer. "I
> also love Buddha, and Moses, and that Hindu God with all the arms, and
> Mother earth. I'm still on the fence about Mohammed and Joseph Smith,
> though." He leaned his head to one side, listening to the weather
> forecast on the television before continuing. "In fact, I probably
love
Jesus best of all.
> I just don't believe in heaven, in the way most people do, so I don't
> think you have to be a Christian to get there." He absent-mindedly
> swirled the beer in his glass. "I think there are many religions on
> this planet to serve the people of the various cultures. To help them
> get through this soap-opera we call life."
>
> "I try never to discuss politics or religion with people unless I know
> exactly where they stand," I said. "It's just asking for trouble. You
> want a burger?"
>
>
>
> "Sure," he said. "You're right, I know. I've stirred up trouble a
> dozen times before on internet groups, I just can't seem to help it.
> Manipulation by fear and intolerance infuriates me." He sipped and
> scratched the nubs of beard on his face." They spew out lies and
> hypocrisy, and America eats it like Lassie on a T-bone."
>
>
>
> "Un-hunh," I said, flipping the sizzling burger.
>
>
>
> "I just want to shake them; tell them to wake up. But, then I realize
> I'm no better than the nut-jobs on the far-right of the political
spectrum."
>
>
>
> Mike sat in silence for a minute. Then he said, "You know what I was
> thinking about this morning when I was eating my Raisin Bran?"
>
>
>
> "What?"
>
>
>
> "I remind my self of Al Sharpton, which is not a compliment." He shook
> his head and rubbed one finger along the edge of his glass. "Now, I'm
> no fan of Mr. Sharpton. He is a bigoted idiot who takes up causes
> primarily to get his face on TV. But, even though nobody of power
> takes him seriously, they have to listen, to appease him somehow,
> because he does have followers. In his loudmouthed, opportunistic,
> wacko kind of way, he brings attention to African-American issues -
> and people notice. He makes them think."
>
>
>
> The door jingled again with the arrival of fresh patrons. I set the
> burger down in front of Mike.
>
> "Ketchup at ten o'clock," I said, putting down a bottle.
>
>
>
> "Ketchup, Reagan's favorite vegetable," he said. He felt for the top
> of the hamburger bun and splashed a glob left of center.
>
> "It makes everybody's buns taste better."
>
>
>
> I laughed. "Do you ever stop thinking about sex, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "Sure. I only think about sex forty-five out of every sixty seconds.
> Gotta leave some time for politics, religion, and general
day-dreaming."
>
>
>
> "Personally," I said, pouring a beer for a customer with a beard like
> a lumberjack, "I think you should carve out more time for your book,
> and spend less time gabbing with your friends on e-mail. Biggest time
> waster ever invented."
>
>
>
> "Again, you're right," he said. A small blotch of ketchup was on his
> lip and I wished he would get it.
>
> "But, writing is a lonely business. I don't go to an office where I
> can interact with other people around the coffee machine. I mostly get
> to hear people's opinions in essays and writing prompts. It's
> fascinating to see the different directions people go with a similar
starting point."
>
>
>
> He finished his burger and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
> "Another beer, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "No," he said, reaching in his pocket and handing me a twenty, folded
> into a triangle. "You've convinced me. I'm going back to my novel,
> where I can at least pretend everything is okay."
>
>
>
> "After you finish, you can have a book signing here," I said.
>
>
>
> "That ought to bring in two or three new customers."
>
>
>
> I handed him his change. He said, "Keep the ones and just give me the
> five."
>
>
>
> "Mike, that's about forty-percent tip," I said.
>
>
>
> "Support your local bartender," he announced to the two other patrons,
> and then got up to leave.
>
>
>
> I held the door and he pinched my ass as he walked by. I gave him a
> quick jab to the shoulder but he shrugged it off and laughed.
>
>
>
> Two college-aged girls watched Mike tap his way down the street. They
> came into the bar, holding hands and bubbling with the excitement of
new
love.
>
>
>
> "Hey, was that Mike Edison, the blind writer?" one of the girls asked.
> "I heard he lived around here."
>
>
>
> "Yeah," I said. "But, he thinks he's Al Sharpton."
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
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>
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------------------------------
Message: 22
Date: Sat, 15 Jan 2011 11:42:51 -0500
From: "Justin H. Williams" <justin.williams2 at gmail.com>
To: <newmanrl at cox.net>, "'Writer's Division Mailing List'"
<stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Message-ID: <4d31ce8c.aa05ec0a.0873.25a1 at mx.google.com>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Well down, and the unlady like comment aloud me to pick up on the fact
that the main bar tender was a femail. Well done; sort of like a long
joke because I like your ending.
Cheers.
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Robert Leslie Newman
Sent: Saturday, January 15, 2011 11:15 AM
To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
I too enjoyed the story. And as was suggested, a little bit more info at
a few key points would be nice- I really didn't know the first character
being presented was a woman until a ways in (you'd think the reference
to the squatting thing would have been the point that tripped my
thoughts to female, but I really thought it was a guy doing that
thinking, and sure maybe being a little sexist in his description.
(Those little add-in references of smell or sound that an author can
use, sure can add to the feel of a story.)
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Anita Adkins
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 4:17 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] fiction
Hi,Loved it. Great use of
speech and action and great handling of props. You had me there, and so
setting was good too. Anita
----- Original Message -----
From: "Chris Kuell" <ckuell at comcast.net>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2011 3:01 PM
Subject: [stylist] fiction
>
> 1,425 Words
>
>
>
> Just Call Me Al
>
>
>
>
>
> By Chris Kuell
>
>
>
> The jingle of the bell at the door caught me off guard. I was
> squatting in a very un-lady-like position, tightening a nut on the new
> faucet in the double sink. Twenty past eleven was early, even for the
> biker crowd. I heard the tap, tap, tap of a cane and stood up to see
> Mike Edison, a blind frequenter of my bar, The Chicken Bone Cafe. He
> made his way to the corner stool, collapsed his cane and tucked it
under
his leg.
>
>
>
> "Hey, Mike. Haven't seen you much this winter. What've you been up
> to?"
>
>
>
> "Oh, you know, the usual," he said. "Training for the Olympics-I'm
> pole vaulting next summer. I'm also taking a welding and a photography
> class at the Voc."
>
>
>
> "Smart-ass," I said, and poured him a pint.
>
>
>
> "Actually, I've been making pretty good progress on my novel. I'm on
> Chapter 17, a little over 200 pages."
>
>
>
> "Hey, that's great," I said. "Congratulations." I placed the beer on a
> coaster in front of him. With a well practiced ear, he found it
> without difficulty.
>
>
>
> "So, why're you in here before eleven-thirty, instead of being home,
> writing a steamy sex scene in your book?"
>
>
>
> "Ain't no cure for the summertime blues." He sang the line, and
> thankfully, didn't continue. Ray Charles, he isn't.
>
>
>
> I clicked on the TV in the corner of the bar. "You and the wife
> arguing again?" Mike lived down the street, so he came here sometimes
> to cool down and gain perspective when things weren't so glorious on
the
home front.
>
>
>
> "Naw, that's not it," he said. He took a long pull off his beer. "Ahh.
> Like mother's milk."
>
>
>
> I've heard this expression from him a hundred times, and it's pretty
> well worn out.
>
>
>
> "No, me and the old lady are okay." Mike took another drink, and then
> looked me right in the chest. Now, I know he can't see, and he doesn't
> know that is where his gaze is focused. But at times, I have to
wonder.
>
>
>
> "You ever notice how I have a knack for pissing people off?"
>
>
>
> "That's not true, Mike," I said. "You seem to get along with
> everybody.
> Especially the ladies you buy drinks for."
>
>
>
> I turned on the faucet and checked for leaks, but everything was dry.
> Rosie Riveter comes through again.
>
> "There was that one night, though, when I thought I was going to have
> to take the bat to you and Steve. You had too much to drink and were
> quite vocal in your opinion about Bush stealing the election."
>
>
>
> "I wasn't drunk," he broke in. "I was bullshit. I mean, the whole 2000
> election debacle was unconstitutional. But, I'm unpatriotic if I don't
> just bend over and take it."
>
>
>
> His face reddened and he stopped talking. After another sip of beer,
> he said, "Well, I pissed off a lot of people in the internet writer's
> group I belong to by posting an anti-tea party satire."
>
>
>
> "What didn't they like?"
>
>
>
> He drained his beer and I poured him another. Nobody else had come in
> yet, so I didn't mind talking.
>
>
>
> "My commentary was mildly acidic, although, you would have fainted if
> you saw my first draft. This was the toned down version. I thought it
> was entertaining, thought it would make people laugh. And maybe, just
> maybe, make people think seriously about our country, and what is best
> for all Americans. Both today, and ten, twenty years from now."
>
>
>
> "Doesn't sound bad to me." I warmed up the small grill where I made
> burgers and sandwiches for the lunch crowd.
>
>
>
> "I didn't think it was. After I posted it, I thought of a dozen other
> points I should have included. You can guess how it went. The choir
> cheered, the republicans in the group think I'm a knee-jerk liberal,
> and a handful think I hate Jesus."
>
>
>
> "Do you?" I asked. Bartenders and shrinks are masters of carrying on
> conversations with very few words. It's a real talent.
>
>
>
> "No, of course not. I love Jesus." He took a draw off his beer. "I
> also love Buddha, and Moses, and that Hindu God with all the arms, and
> Mother earth. I'm still on the fence about Mohammed and Joseph Smith,
> though." He leaned his head to one side, listening to the weather
> forecast on the television before continuing. "In fact, I probably
love
Jesus best of all.
> I just don't believe in heaven, in the way most people do, so I don't
> think you have to be a Christian to get there." He absent-mindedly
> swirled the beer in his glass. "I think there are many religions on
> this planet to serve the people of the various cultures. To help them
> get through this soap-opera we call life."
>
> "I try never to discuss politics or religion with people unless I know
> exactly where they stand," I said. "It's just asking for trouble. You
> want a burger?"
>
>
>
> "Sure," he said. "You're right, I know. I've stirred up trouble a
> dozen times before on internet groups, I just can't seem to help it.
> Manipulation by fear and intolerance infuriates me." He sipped and
> scratched the nubs of beard on his face." They spew out lies and
> hypocrisy, and America eats it like Lassie on a T-bone."
>
>
>
> "Un-hunh," I said, flipping the sizzling burger.
>
>
>
> "I just want to shake them; tell them to wake up. But, then I realize
> I'm no better than the nut-jobs on the far-right of the political
spectrum."
>
>
>
> Mike sat in silence for a minute. Then he said, "You know what I was
> thinking about this morning when I was eating my Raisin Bran?"
>
>
>
> "What?"
>
>
>
> "I remind my self of Al Sharpton, which is not a compliment." He shook
> his head and rubbed one finger along the edge of his glass. "Now, I'm
> no fan of Mr. Sharpton. He is a bigoted idiot who takes up causes
> primarily to get his face on TV. But, even though nobody of power
> takes him seriously, they have to listen, to appease him somehow,
> because he does have followers. In his loudmouthed, opportunistic,
> wacko kind of way, he brings attention to African-American issues -
> and people notice. He makes them think."
>
>
>
> The door jingled again with the arrival of fresh patrons. I set the
> burger down in front of Mike.
>
> "Ketchup at ten o'clock," I said, putting down a bottle.
>
>
>
> "Ketchup, Reagan's favorite vegetable," he said. He felt for the top
> of the hamburger bun and splashed a glob left of center.
>
> "It makes everybody's buns taste better."
>
>
>
> I laughed. "Do you ever stop thinking about sex, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "Sure. I only think about sex forty-five out of every sixty seconds.
> Gotta leave some time for politics, religion, and general
day-dreaming."
>
>
>
> "Personally," I said, pouring a beer for a customer with a beard like
> a lumberjack, "I think you should carve out more time for your book,
> and spend less time gabbing with your friends on e-mail. Biggest time
> waster ever invented."
>
>
>
> "Again, you're right," he said. A small blotch of ketchup was on his
> lip and I wished he would get it.
>
> "But, writing is a lonely business. I don't go to an office where I
> can interact with other people around the coffee machine. I mostly get
> to hear people's opinions in essays and writing prompts. It's
> fascinating to see the different directions people go with a similar
starting point."
>
>
>
> He finished his burger and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
> "Another beer, Mike?"
>
>
>
> "No," he said, reaching in his pocket and handing me a twenty, folded
> into a triangle. "You've convinced me. I'm going back to my novel,
> where I can at least pretend everything is okay."
>
>
>
> "After you finish, you can have a book signing here," I said.
>
>
>
> "That ought to bring in two or three new customers."
>
>
>
> I handed him his change. He said, "Keep the ones and just give me the
> five."
>
>
>
> "Mike, that's about forty-percent tip," I said.
>
>
>
> "Support your local bartender," he announced to the two other patrons,
> and then got up to leave.
>
>
>
> I held the door and he pinched my ass as he walked by. I gave him a
> quick jab to the shoulder but he shrugged it off and laughed.
>
>
>
> Two college-aged girls watched Mike tap his way down the street. They
> came into the bar, holding hands and bubbling with the excitement of
new
love.
>
>
>
> "Hey, was that Mike Edison, the blind writer?" one of the girls asked.
> "I heard he lived around here."
>
>
>
> "Yeah," I said. "But, he thinks he's Al Sharpton."
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site: http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
> <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> stylist:
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/aadkins7%40ve
> rizon.net
>
_______________________________________________
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http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
<http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
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------------------------------
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