Hello faithful readers and welcome back.
The e-book version of A Life Worth Living will be released via Smashwords and will be available at the end of August on Apple, Sony, Nook, Amazon, Diesel and more.
Previews of the book are available now prior to the release of the complete book.
I invite you to pour a warm beverage, get comfortable, and join me as we follow the life of Dave and Debbie, a hard working couple trying to provide a good life for their two children, Aidan and Summer. Somewhere along the way Dave and Debbie have drifted apart. Blame it on the late hours at the office. Blame it on the way that they have settled into their relationship and along the way settled for the way things are. Blame it on whatever you like but in the end they are drifting apart and are things are beginning to fray at the edges of their middle class life.
Their relationship was built on faith, trust, and love. It will all be tested along the way as they work to make theirs a Life Worth Living.
Please post a comment and let me know what your thoughts are.
All the best,
TL Scott
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Fiction Writing: Who are you writing for?
Hello again faithful readers. Things are busy now that the days are longer. I always find it harder to find the time to do everything I want to do this time of year. Well that is because I want to do to much. Even with this I have to remind myself to focus and keep things in balance. Life is a series of trade-offs. So with that said I will trade-off a few minutes of my time basking in the sun to sit down and talk with you. You see, I am trying to balance things? After this I will go back to basking in the summer sun.
Alright, so you have the idea for a story knocking around inside your head. It is taking shape and you are ready to start writing. For each of us that process is different. Some may outline until the whole story is plotted out. Others may brainstorm and jot down thoughts on sticky notes till their creative space looks like someone from 3m re-decorated your space. Still others will simply step off the ledge and leap "write" in.
I wholeheartedly encourage to follow this process all the way through to the end. I am a firm believer that during this essential creative phase you should not be distracted by, well, anything if it can be helped.
After this initial phase has been completed I have found that setting the story aside for a while is a good thing to do. Let it ferment for a little bit. That is if the story will let you. I have found that some stories tend to go at their own pace. Some are a sprint while others are a more leisurely stroll.
When you pick up the creative thread again read through it with an eye to your audience. Whoever you have determined your primary target audience to be, that is who you should focus on. You should focus on them almost as much as you should focus on your characters. After all this is a conversation between your characters and your target audience. They are the ones that will be reading it. You are a storyteller. Weave your tail with all of the eloquence you are gifted with. Tell your story to those that are interested in pulling up a rock and taking a seat around the campfire to listen to you weave your tale.
Keep in mind that your audience will be a select few. While many of us like to read different genres there are many that focus only on their favorite. Whether you tell romance, science fiction, or horror tales, tell them well and remember who your are telling your stories to.
Always keep in mind that it is your responsibility to your readers to tell them the best possible story you can. Do not release your story until it is told. Write it, refine it, edit it, re-write it, re-refine it, then edit it again.
Thank you for joining me once again.
I look forward to talking with you again soon.
All the best,
T. L. Scott
Alright, so you have the idea for a story knocking around inside your head. It is taking shape and you are ready to start writing. For each of us that process is different. Some may outline until the whole story is plotted out. Others may brainstorm and jot down thoughts on sticky notes till their creative space looks like someone from 3m re-decorated your space. Still others will simply step off the ledge and leap "write" in.
I wholeheartedly encourage to follow this process all the way through to the end. I am a firm believer that during this essential creative phase you should not be distracted by, well, anything if it can be helped.
After this initial phase has been completed I have found that setting the story aside for a while is a good thing to do. Let it ferment for a little bit. That is if the story will let you. I have found that some stories tend to go at their own pace. Some are a sprint while others are a more leisurely stroll.
When you pick up the creative thread again read through it with an eye to your audience. Whoever you have determined your primary target audience to be, that is who you should focus on. You should focus on them almost as much as you should focus on your characters. After all this is a conversation between your characters and your target audience. They are the ones that will be reading it. You are a storyteller. Weave your tail with all of the eloquence you are gifted with. Tell your story to those that are interested in pulling up a rock and taking a seat around the campfire to listen to you weave your tale.
Keep in mind that your audience will be a select few. While many of us like to read different genres there are many that focus only on their favorite. Whether you tell romance, science fiction, or horror tales, tell them well and remember who your are telling your stories to.
Always keep in mind that it is your responsibility to your readers to tell them the best possible story you can. Do not release your story until it is told. Write it, refine it, edit it, re-write it, re-refine it, then edit it again.
Thank you for joining me once again.
I look forward to talking with you again soon.
All the best,
T. L. Scott
Friday, June 28, 2013
Are you a fiction writer?
Are you a fiction writer? Well, if you have ever put ink to paper in the form of a made up story then the answer is yes, you are a fiction writer.
Okay, now that we have gotten that out of the way and established that pretty much anyone still reading this is a writer of fiction let's delve into which type of fiction writer you are. Trust me there is a reason for this.
I have talked with friends and family about whether writing is a hobby. Some have even called it a past-time. I have talked with fellow writers that say it is more of an addiction. These are important definitions. The funny thing is that people define them differently.
Here are my thoughts on them.
If you have written some and are happy with what you have done then you probably do not fit into any of these categories. You may be an author though if you completed the story. Congratulations!!
If you occasionally sit down to put thoughts to paper, even if it is virtual paper, then you probably are safe to call it a hobby.
If you are passionate about the craft and you put aside time to delve into it then I would safely say that you have writing as a past-time.
Now for the other category. You may fit in here if you have the story running through you all through your day and you cannot wait until you can sit down to put your thoughts down and see where the story continues to take you. You fit into this story if no matter how hard you try to put the story to the side it refuses to let you go. You are definitely addicted to writing when you feel lost when you are not writing. There are positive things that can flow from this type of addiction but be warned, like other addictions there are functional members and those that cease to be functional. Remember that to be able to continue pursuing your writing you have to attend to the other areas of your life as well. Showering is still a good thing to do!
Seriously, the better health you are in the better your stories will be. The better the rest of your life is the more you will be able to focus on your craft. Granted there are great stories that come from pain and suffering in the real world. More often than not these tragedies overwhelm us and we can only write about them after time goes by and we have a bit more perspective.
That is my main reason for writing this. Remember to keep things in perspective. No matter what your level of passion is for writing keep it in perspective with the other parts of your life.
I wish you all the very best to live the best life you can.
All the best,
T. L. Scott
Okay, now that we have gotten that out of the way and established that pretty much anyone still reading this is a writer of fiction let's delve into which type of fiction writer you are. Trust me there is a reason for this.
I have talked with friends and family about whether writing is a hobby. Some have even called it a past-time. I have talked with fellow writers that say it is more of an addiction. These are important definitions. The funny thing is that people define them differently.
Here are my thoughts on them.
If you have written some and are happy with what you have done then you probably do not fit into any of these categories. You may be an author though if you completed the story. Congratulations!!
If you occasionally sit down to put thoughts to paper, even if it is virtual paper, then you probably are safe to call it a hobby.
If you are passionate about the craft and you put aside time to delve into it then I would safely say that you have writing as a past-time.
Now for the other category. You may fit in here if you have the story running through you all through your day and you cannot wait until you can sit down to put your thoughts down and see where the story continues to take you. You fit into this story if no matter how hard you try to put the story to the side it refuses to let you go. You are definitely addicted to writing when you feel lost when you are not writing. There are positive things that can flow from this type of addiction but be warned, like other addictions there are functional members and those that cease to be functional. Remember that to be able to continue pursuing your writing you have to attend to the other areas of your life as well. Showering is still a good thing to do!
Seriously, the better health you are in the better your stories will be. The better the rest of your life is the more you will be able to focus on your craft. Granted there are great stories that come from pain and suffering in the real world. More often than not these tragedies overwhelm us and we can only write about them after time goes by and we have a bit more perspective.
That is my main reason for writing this. Remember to keep things in perspective. No matter what your level of passion is for writing keep it in perspective with the other parts of your life.
I wish you all the very best to live the best life you can.
All the best,
T. L. Scott
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Visit me on Facebook too
Faithful reader I want to also invite you all to my facebook page. Please feel free to provide your feedback there as well.
https://www.facebook.com/pages/T-L-Scott/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/T-L-Scott/
News on the release of A Life Worth Living
Hello again, I am happy to report that I have some very good news for you. I have been talking at length with the publisher and I am happy to report that A Life Worth Living is this close to being released. I should be able to report the exact details of where and when it will be available. I can tell you that it will be available on Amazon. We are working out the details for other formats as well. As soon as the details are finalized I will let you all know.
In the mean time I thought I would pose a question to you. Which format do you prefer to read? Are you a traditionalist who prefers a physical book in your hand or do you favor the convenience of having your book available to you in an e-book format? Or maybe you like audio books best.
Okay let me know what you think and why you prefer it that way.
I have let you have a preview of the book. Please provide me with your feedback on what you think so far. I would also like to hear back from you after you have read the book in its' entirety. Let's stay in touch faithful reader.
All the best,
T L Scott
In the mean time I thought I would pose a question to you. Which format do you prefer to read? Are you a traditionalist who prefers a physical book in your hand or do you favor the convenience of having your book available to you in an e-book format? Or maybe you like audio books best.
Okay let me know what you think and why you prefer it that way.
I have let you have a preview of the book. Please provide me with your feedback on what you think so far. I would also like to hear back from you after you have read the book in its' entirety. Let's stay in touch faithful reader.
All the best,
T L Scott
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Book Review
Hello faithful readers and those of you that are new to this blog. I have great news on the publication of A Life Worth Living. As I said in a previous post the cover art is done and Ken Shelton proved once again why he is one of the best.
I spoke with Mrs. Jones last night of Horton Jones Publishing and she confirmed that the publication is on track. The book is being fine tuned (type set, alignment, format) for all the small details. Best of all is that it is on track for release this summer. That's right, you could be lying by the pool or lounging on the beach lost in a copy of A Life Worth Living this summer.
I have posted some excerpts from the book here for your enjoyment.
Here is the offer: Mrs. Jones has agreed to print some reviews of this material in the book. Here is your chance to let your opinion be heard. As if that was not enough I will give away a signed copy of the book to one of the people that submit their review. All you need to do is simply post your comment to this blog or send it to me at tlscott.official@googlemail.com
If you want to simply use the email account to comment on the blog that is also welcome.
I spoke with Mrs. Jones last night of Horton Jones Publishing and she confirmed that the publication is on track. The book is being fine tuned (type set, alignment, format) for all the small details. Best of all is that it is on track for release this summer. That's right, you could be lying by the pool or lounging on the beach lost in a copy of A Life Worth Living this summer.
I have posted some excerpts from the book here for your enjoyment.
Here is the offer: Mrs. Jones has agreed to print some reviews of this material in the book. Here is your chance to let your opinion be heard. As if that was not enough I will give away a signed copy of the book to one of the people that submit their review. All you need to do is simply post your comment to this blog or send it to me at tlscott.official@googlemail.com
If you want to simply use the email account to comment on the blog that is also welcome.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
A Life Worth Living Chapter 2
Hello and welcome back. I have good news on the progress of A Life Worth Living. The cover is in the final design phase. The artist Ken Shelton has come up with a great design that I am sure you will all like.
I should be able to announce the date that the book will be available in the next few weeks.
Until then here is the second chapter of A Life Worth Living. Please leave your comments. I really appreciate feedback from faithful readers. I even like it from unfaithful ones.
I hope you enjoy.
Following is an excerpt of copyrighted material. Do not reproduce or use without permission from
T L Scott and Horton Jones Publishing.
Chapter 2: A Forty Percent Chance of Rain
Showered and shaved I went into the kitchen and put the coffee on to brew.
I really loved our kitchen. It felt comfortable like a kitchen should. The sink had a window over it that let us look out on our back yard. You could see the big Maple tree off to the left and the Blue Spruce to the right. Lining the back of the yard the Dwarf Alberta Spruces provided a soft back drop to the green of the lawn. The flagstone path that led to the gazebo broke the line of the lawn into two zones. We used the left side with the Gazebo for gathering and entertaining while the right side was for looking at. It was the pristine area that we did not want disturbed. It was our little sanctuary. In the middle Debbie had made a rock garden with a Koi pond with a fountain that brought the water up to have it cascade down into the pond. I never tired of the view.
In the center of the kitchen was the cooking island. It had a range top that had three large, three medium, and three small burners. Underneath were two ovens. I suggested the ovens to Debbie and she immediately agreed with me. We had both been frustrated with preparing meals that required oven temperatures that were different. It led to us always needing to decide to either reduce the heat on one thing and put them together or to compromise in some other way. With two ovens there would be no need for compromise. The pie could cook while the turkey was finishing for example. On the side of the island there was a microwave. In the front and on the other side was storage for the pots and pans that were not hanging from the rack over the island. There were four drawers which held the cooking utensils and other things needed for cooking. Our cooking island was a culinary oasis where we did not need to go anywhere else to get what we needed. On the side of the kitchen opposite the door was our breakfast nook. The double sided refrigerator took up the other wall. Next to the refrigerator there was a pass through window. The door into the dining room was a sliding door that recessed into the wall. It didn’t take up any extra room and when cooking things like fish or frying meat it kept the smell in the kitchen and not throughout the house. It was a very comfortable room.
The kitchen and the yard were good examples of the life Debbie and I had made together. We did not agree on everything. In fact most things required discussion for us to come to an agreement. In the end though what we came up with was better than what we had imagined in the beginning. The house was comfortable. Our relationship was comfortable.
I got the box of cereal and the milk for my breakfast of champions. Hey! I know I’m not getting any younger and I’m trying to focus on eating right. I know I should be exercising more but again there just never seems to be the time to do it. Between sitting behind my desk in the office and the wheel of my car I know I’m not getting enough physical exercise and my waist is definitely showing it lately. I didn’t need to buy larger pants yet but my belt told the truth of the matter.
I could tell that Debbie realized it as well because she was preparing me more vegetables and less meat for my meals. Well, at least she hadn’t gone over the edge and served me Tofu! Not that there was anything wrong with tofu or the people that like it. In fact we had tried it and decided that it was not a taste we liked.
Alright tomorrow I would get up a half hour earlier and go for an easy jog. Just to get started again. Nothing too extreme to begin with I reasoned. Tomorrow I will get back into it I resolved.
I topped off my traveling mug with some liquid alertness and locked the door behind me. Off for yet another exciting day in the world of corporate accounting! Yes I know the joke isn’t a good one but it still never failed to bring a smile to my lips. Most people looked at the field of accounting with as much enthusiasm as a trip to the dentist. I still find it to be a very interesting job and at times even exciting. For example the work I am doing now, going back and analyzing the transactions in Bob’s department, was interesting because it provided a sense of mystery. I was like a detective trying to figure out how to solve the case. OK, that was being a bit dramatic, but it was fun figuring out what really happened. Occasionally it even led to criminal charges, when people thought they could get away with fraud or embezzlement. More often than not though, these people did not get reported to the police. They were punished by a fate that was likely as painful. They were fired and “somehow” the word spread around the major players what had happened so their professional lives died a quick and very painful death.
God I hoped Bob was not that stupid!
I told myself for the thousandth time that it was not my problem. I was not the one that decided to step across the line. I was one of the good guys. It was because of me and my department that the company was able to stop the hemorrhage these thieves caused in the financial flow which was the company’s life blood.
Wow, I just realized that I had already become convinced that Bob was guilty. I hadn’t realized that I had found the damning evidence yet but I guess I had. Now all I needed to do was to pull it all together and present my findings. The day just got a bit brighter for me. Bob’s future, on the other hand, had just taken a steep curve in the road. Of course he didn’t know it yet.
Traffic was beginning to pick up on the commute to the office. I looked around at the stoplights and saw the same bored faces I had seen before.
When you take the same way to and from work each day you tend to meet the same people doing the same routine as you. An easy nod of the head in acknowledgement to the people who were as much a slave to the grind as I was on this day before a long weekend.
Judging from the looks on their faces they needed the rest as much as I did.
Yup, just another boring routine commute. Right Mr. Bald man in the blue Accord?
I am sure you feel the same way blond lady in the Toyota Camry with the five hundred yard stare. Are you going over the things you need to get done today? Maybe the dinner you are going to make for your family when you get home, he mused. Maybe you are planning a date with an exciting lover. Or, more than likely, you are simply thinking about yet another long day ahead of you with too much to do and not enough time to get it done.
That was a thought I had grown all too accustomed to. It seemed to have become my life story. Too much to do and not enough time to get it all done. Maybe they would put it on my tombstone after I was gone.
“Dave was a good man.
He worked really hard.
There was always too much to do and not enough time to get it all done.”
The light changed to green and I moved along with my fellow commuters into another day in the world of business.
Pulling into the parking lot I noticed that there were very few cars at this early hour. I pulled into my reserved spot and retrieved my faithful traveling companion from the passenger seat.
For quite a few years now my satchel has been my only company on the daily trek to, and from, the office. I looked upon it fondly as I remembered how it had come to be mine.
Debbie and I had taken a vacation to celebrate my promotion to Assistant Department Head. Not only did the promotion mean a substantial jump in pay but also a chance to make some real changes happen.
We decided to go to Greece for a ten day getaway. The island of Crete was a perfect place for us. We both loved the ocean and the coast provided some great spots for both scuba and snorkeling. Whenever we needed a rest from that the beaches were some of the best we had ever been to. At night the quaint town by day turned into a bustling hub of activity. The nightlife was really alive. Strolling along the port area the flow of people was surprising. Restaurants lined the harbor. The waiters stood in front of their restaurant and called out their specials. They were remarkable to watch. They would fluently shift from one language to the other depending on where they thought the tourist was from. I heard one go from Spanish to Italian to English before he settled into German all within the time it took us to pass the forty foot space in front of the tables he was trying to fill. From the look of things he was doing a very good job because there were only two tables we saw which were vacant. We made one loop of the waterfront and settled on his restaurant. Surprisingly he acted as if he remembered us. I was sure that it was a good sales tactic he used instead of a remarkable memory. Then again he had flipped through four languages without missing a beat. Maybe he was that good. The food was very good and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The flow of the tourists was interesting to watch and we felt very relaxed.
When we made it back to our room we were both feeling a bit amorous. I don’t know if it was because of the Sambuca, the ouzo, or the fact we were on vacation. Maybe it was a combination of all of it. In the end I didn’t care because we made love to the rhythm of the sea. We could hear the sound of the tide crashing against the rocks less than one hundred feet from our window. Once our passion was sated we drifted off to sleep, listening to the surf, holding each other close.
One evening, we decided to be a bit adventurous and asked our hotel manager George for a suggestion on where to go. He recommended a new disco that had opened up recently and everyone said was a lot of fun. We told the cab driver the address for the disco and set off on our adventure. We were beginning to get a bit nervous. The taxi had been driving for at least twenty minutes since we left town.
Were we being taken for a ride?
I did not mean in a good way either.
I had heard stories of people being taken out into the country and then charged high rates just to take them back home.
My fears proved to be unfounded as we approached a building that had cars lining both sides of the street as we approached it. There was definitely something going on ahead of us.
I tipped the taxi driver and asked him if he would come back to get us in three hours. He happily agreed.
The entrance to the disco was beautiful. There were small palm trees lining the sidewalk with lights illuminating them. The entrance itself had the velvet rope and standard guards at the entrance. Without a line it made me wonder if this place was a good idea or not. The guards did not give us any problems as we strolled right past them. We either did not look like trouble makers or they were there to handle the line if a crowd was to form.
Once we were inside I had a better understanding of what was going on.
The entrance was done up to look like it was carved out of a cave. The lighting was dim and the sound of falling water could be clearly heard.
We walked past a large rock that had water falling around it in the center of the entrance way. The walkway was about thirty feet wide. Just past the big rock we were cast in a black light. We both looked at each other and mugged big corny bright white smiles.
The disco itself was set up in one main room and nine theme rooms off of it. There were three levels circling the main room which was easily the size of two football fields. Circling the room were the walkways that threaded their way up and around the main room. The other themes were techno, retro, and other themes I did not immediately recognize. The only constant was that they were loud and busy. Inside the main room laser lights were shooting through the air. We could feel the bass beat of euro pop as it pulsed its’ rhythm through our body. The crowd was not thick but, then again, it was still early. It was only eleven and we had come to learn that things did not really get going until at least midnight.
We bought ourselves some drinks and set off to explore the place. To say it was big was saying nothing. We went into a few of the rooms and danced. The house room was fun. Everyone was jumping up and down. We found that we did not need to know how to dance to blend in here. All we had to do was jump up and down and waive our arms in the air. That was fun for a little while but we decided to move on. The next room was a surprise, Country music with a techno edge. There were groups that were doing a passable two step. It was fun but we had enough and moved on to the next room. This was a retro room. We found music from the 60’s and 70’s but with a twist. The beats were euro pop and some of the people were dressed up like they were from the 60’s with longer skirts and the guys were wearing suits and ties. Others were dressed like flower children with peace signs and flowers in their hair.
We took a break from our explorations and rested on a couch that was off to the side and away from the pulsing music and crowds of dancers. The lighting was soft and gave us a feeling of isolation.
Before long we were lost in each other. Once our eyes adjusted to the dark we found that we were not alone. Other couples were making use of the secluded area. There were sounds coming from the back that told us that at least one couple was making a lot of use of the couch they had. We broke from our kissing when we realized that something had changed.
The dull roar of the crowd was different.
We stood up and walked over to the wooden rail to see what was going on.
Looking down on the crowd below us we were surprised to find that they were looking up at us! No, not at us. They were looking at something above us. We followed their gaze to see that the massive ceiling was separating. It was retracting in upon itself to reveal a sky filled with stars. This alone made the trip out here worthwhile. Then the laser light show began. The lights pulsed to the beat of songs we didn’t recognize but loved anyway.
We made our way down to the main floor and joined the dancers. We were soon moving along with the other dancers to the throbbing pulse of the music.
Debbie called my attention to two men that had appeared on each side of the main floor. They were holding a large tube and the crowd raised their hands in the air and started yelling and jumping with even more energy.
We didn’t know what to expect but we were caught up in the moment. We followed along with the crowd and soon were covered in foam.
The music was pulsing and the crowd was feeding off of each other’s energy. I don’t know how long we were out on the floor. The songs blended together with only differences in the beat. There was fast and then there was faster.
Eventually we both decided we had had enough. We walked outside to see if by any chance our taxi driver had returned for us. We were in no hurry and enjoyed walking back out arm in arm. We figured if he wasn’t there then the club could always call a taxi for us. We were pleasantly surprised to find out that our taxi was waiting for us.
Our drivers name was George. What a coincidence. He told us that he had just dropped off another couple at the club and luckily was able to pick us up. I think that was very likely, but I also think that he would have come back for us anyway. It was a Thursday night and I didn’t think business was brisk enough for him to turn away business.
George asked us if we had a good time which we both agreed that we had.
We asked if he knew of any good places to shop. He gave us directions to a good area saying that while they had the typical things tourists were looking for they also had some interesting local wares as well. We thanked him for taking care of us and wished him and his wife and eight children well. George then revealed that one of his many talents was prophecy as he told us that he knew we were going to stay married forever by the way that we were together. He insisted he was an expert in these matters due to the longevity of his marriage and his extensive experience watching people as they climbed in and out of his cab. Well, so far George the wise, had proven to be correct. We decided to take his advice and see what we could find for our souvenirs.
The next morning we left the hotel early after having eaten a light breakfast of croissants, yogurt, and drinking a passable coffee while listening to the sound of the sea breaking on the rocks of the coast on the southern side of the island.
We spent the morning strolling down quaint alleyways looking at the wares offered leisurely browsing among the typical tourist items. The hand crafted chess sets on display were truly a work of art. They were crafted from crystal, obsidian, or jade and in so many different forms that it was simply amazing.
I still have the set we bought in our living room. Unfortunately, no one takes the time to play it much. Debbie picked up a few pieces of porcelain with historic Greek themes hand painted on them.
We bought the pre-requisite amount of post cards and simply enjoyed spending time together in such an exotic location. The sounds of the merchants haggling with the customers (or among each other) mixed with the smells of the meat shops that were along every street we came upon created a sense of adventure. There was also the feeling that you get when you are in a place that has been around for a very long time. People had been doing the same thing as us for thousands of years in this same place. Eventually our meandering path brought us to a leather shop that had belts and wallets on display outside of the store. The smell of leather permeated the air. It was obvious that the quality of the merchandise was very good and when Debbie came up to me with a gleam in her eye and the satchel in her hand, she said that it was just the thing I needed to look the part of an executive. I faked a crestfallen look as I said that I thought I already looked the part. She gave me a big kiss which sealed the deal. Now here I was, years later, with the satchel in hand and remembering the touch of her lips as if it were only moments ago. Yes the good times were what it was all about!
I reminded myself to stay focused on getting the audit done and wrap things up so I could get home and help Debbie pack for the trip. The birds were starting to sing their early morning songs as I crossed the parking lot and pushed open the side door to the building.
I saw that Bill had the shift at the security control station. We exchanged pleasantries as we had done for the past eleven years. His family was growing yet again. This would make the 6th child when his wife delivered what he happily reported would be another strong son around the 20th of April. Well that was still a month away and the addition to the house was on schedule for being done just in time. That, Bill reported, was the reason he was here at this God forsaken hour. He needed the overtime to pay for it. In addition to working extra time he was also doing most of the work himself to save money. Fortunately Bill knew what he was doing. He had been a Seabee in the Navy for eight years before getting out and trying to start his own company. Bill had been a great Seabee. He knew construction. Unfortunately for him, and his family, his timing was bad and his business skills were worse. The company folded after only two years. Bill was a hard worker and his resume’ showed as much.
Fortunately he was able to get a job as a security guard as a temporary way to pay the bills and support his wife and three children. Well that was eleven years ago and he was now the senior guard at the company and was in charge of a staff of thirty-two people. Bill was good people and I enjoyed talking with him. Unfortunately, today there is a lot to get done so I had to cut it short.
The morning went by without a hitch until 10:15 when Becky informed him of an emergency meeting of all department heads. Dave was fuming inside. “Crap that is just what I do not need! Well there is nothing I can do about it.” I wrapped up the audit and sent out a couple of short important emails on what needed to be done. I planned for the meeting taking an hour. I knew Ken liked to get right to the point and not waste anyone’s time in needless meetings. As I entered the conference room I saw that they were setting up the telephone with the speaker. It was not uncommon to link with remote sites so they could listen in on the meetings. I soon found out that unfortunately it was not Ken that was running this show. I learned that this was to be a meeting with Mr. Sullivan from the head office via conference call. Needless to say he was not happy and in the end I had more work to do than what I had before the meeting.
On the way back to my office I remembered the promise I made to Debbie and thought about how I could delegate out some of this added workload without overburdening my staff.
Once in my office, I quickly went over the main projects we had going on and saw that some of the people looked to have space to handle a few extra tasks. I called a meeting for one o’clock and set to work on how to divvy out the load.
Before I knew it the day had somehow flew by and it was now almost four o’clock. I went around to my people and made sure they were ahead of things before letting them go on the long weekend. By the time that was done it was already after five and I still had a few more items to complete on the audit.
The next time I glanced at the clock it was already going on seven o’clock. OK not as early as I wanted to leave but not as late as my worst case scenario had been either. I saved the whole audit report to back up and printed out the finished copy and put it in the satchel.
I locked up the office and then the department door and took the elevator down to the lobby. Lisa had the security desk and I wished her a good night on the way out. About half way to the car it started to rain. I managed to get in without getting too wet. This was getting out of hand. I didn’t like the way that I was breathing so hard after such a short and easy jog to the car. I promised myself to start working out again. I was not getting any younger and the signs were becoming obvious and a spare tire and breathing hard with only a light jog were only part of it. I was in my 40’s now and not my 20’s and needed to take better care of myself for the kid’s sake. Wake up early tomorrow and go for an easy short run I said to myself. With that resolution made I pulled out of the parking lot and merged into the flow of traffic for the drive home. As usual my brain shifted to auto pilot and I started going over the work I needed to do in my head. Just another typical night.
About a mile into the drive home it really started to pour. I slowed down because I couldn’t see out of the windshield more than fifty feet. I could clearly see the tail lights of the car in front of me but everything else was hidden behind a veil of falling water. It was coming down so hard I could actually see the raindrops splash up off of the hood of the car. It would have been a surreal scene if not for the need to drive through this downpour. It was making a continual drumming sound on the car that drowned out the news on the radio saying that there was a forty percent chance of rain. Well, I guess you guys got it forty percent right this time.
Dan Strump was becoming more and more frustrated. He knew he should not have gotten off of the interstate. How many times had his wife chided him for taking what he thought to be a short cut only to have it add extra time onto their trips? True he had to get off to find a gas station but as he was looking at the map it looked like it would save him a good forty five minutes if he took this road. Of course this blasted rain did not help matters at all. At this rate he was going to lose time for sure. He was looking for the names of streets to get his bearings and did not see the stop light. To his credit the city had not changed the bulb and it was kind of dim. Add to that the diminished visibility due to the deluge coming from the sky and it was a disaster in the making.
I could barely make out the light changing from red to green. I let off of the brake and started to ease forward. I was just about to enter the intersection of Jasper and 9th Avenue when right in front of me a car slammed into the Ford I was following. I didn’t even think about it I just slammed on the brakes and threw the car in park. The next thing I knew I was running to the two wrecked vehicles. The car that had struck the one I was following was in pretty good shape as it was an older Cadillac and had fared much better than the Ford. The Ford had been hit in the passenger side pretty hard.
The Cadillac man was out of his car and looked to be pretty shell shocked. No one had come out of the Ford yet. I checked the man out quickly. He was walking ok if a bit stiff. No apparent bleeding or disorientation and aside from mild shock there were no apparent injuries.
I turned my attention to the other vehicle. I could not see much on the damaged passenger side as the steam from the damaged radiator of the Cadillac lodged in the door panel blocked my view.
I ran around to the driver’s side of the Ford and saw long blond hair lying on the steering wheel. Only then did I realize that the car horn was blaring away. I opened the car door and reached in and felt for a pulse on what turned out to be a woman’s throat. It was strong and steady. I looked over her to the passenger of the car and saw that her passenger had not fared very well. There was a lot of blood on the dashboard in front of him and what appeared to be a deep gash on his forehead. I could see blood coming out of his ear which I knew could be a bad sign. It could indicate bleeding from the brain. That was when out of the corner of my eye I saw the baby in the car-seat in the back. Aside from being scared, she did not look to have any injuries. Her pink coat and hair had pieces of glass on them but I did not see any blood. Just then, the woman woke up and in a groggy voice said “what happened”? I turned my head to tell her that everything was going to be Ok. Before I could get it out she screamed: “MY BABY”!! She spun around to look into the back seat. She must not have focused on the passenger seat because the next thing she said was “Thank God you are ok Michel. It’s going to be ok baby. Mommy is going to make it all ok my big girl.” Then she must have thought about her husband because she asked, “Jerry, are you ok? Jerry? Oh God Jerry???” That last came out as little more than a whisper.
“Everything’s going to be ok.” I told her the first thing I wanted to focus on was getting her and the baby out of the car and a safe distance away. I couldn’t do much for Jerry until then. He was blocked in and I could not get to him until the woman and the baby were safe.
I was able to get her and baby Michel to the side of the road where some other people began to help out. Luckily there was a bus stop on the corner which provided a little shelter from the rain. Someone had thoughtfully put a blanket around the woman and baby to help them keep warm.
As I came around the side of the damaged vehicles the driver of the other car was still standing there saying over and over again that he did not see the traffic light at all. He did not know there was a light there at all. He was in shock all right but not in immediate danger. I don’t think he realized that he was drenched and standing in the middle of the road with cars driving past him.
It is kind of funny how when there is an accident some people will stop to help and others will just keep on driving by. “No sir not my problem” they probably say to themselves as they go on about their business. Dave would never know for sure what those people thought. He was in the first group. He always had to stop and help. Debbie couldn’t figure it out and it was beyond Dave to explain. It was something that just was. At first he tried to attribute it to his training in the Navy but they both knew it went beyond that. Sure, the training prepared him on what to do but the need to help was there before he joined the Navy. It simply was a part of who he was.
I ran back around to the open door of the Ford and climbed inside to check on Jerry. I felt a weak pulse and could see that he was breathing on his own. Right then I heard the welcome sound of approaching sirens. I don’t know how much time had passed but I knew that every moment counted for this man. He had a bad laceration on his forehead and his nose looked to be broken. He might have had a punctured lung as well because I could see pink frothy bubbles coming from his nose. Then again, he did have a broken nose. I felt that there was a good likelihood of internal injuries because of the way the car had been hit so I did not try to move him out of the car. Instead I sat there with him until the police arrived on the scene followed by two ambulances.
Everything after that became a blur. By the time I was done making my statements it was well past eleven. I arrived home to a dark house emotionally and physically exhausted as I stumbled up the stairs thankful for the way the carpet kept my shuffling gait quiet. I went right into the master bathroom, undressed, and showered as quietly as I could. I did not want to wake up Debbie or the kids. Not only because they needed their sleep but also because I didn’t want to talk about what had happened. I was too tired to go over it again.
I took a quick shower with the water pressure low so it wouldn’t make a lot of noise. I couldn’t help thinking that if I had left the office just five seconds earlier it may have been my car that was hit. It could have been me. Instead of being in the shower I might have been lying on a gurney in the emergency room, or worse.
I lay down in my own bed and as tired as I was I could not fall asleep. I kept thinking about what had happened and how easily things could have been different. The driver of the car that ran the light was from out of town and did not know the area. In the driving rain he said he didn’t see that there was a light at the intersection and swore he was doing less than the speed limit of thirty five.
That all may very well have been true but, in the end, it did not matter to Jerry and his wife. The late model Cadillac hit their car with enough force to forever change their lives.
All through the night I kept seeing her blond hair as it fell around the steering wheel. At one point I woke up in a cold sweat with a scream lodged in my throat. I saw the blond hair around the steering wheel again, but as her head turned towards me, it was Debbie’s face I saw. I must have gotten some sleep after that but did not feel rested when the alarm sounded at 7:30.
Debbie, as usual, had been her efficient self and had the van packed and ready to go. Breakfast was served promptly at seven-forty-five and the kids and I were seated around the table talking about what we were going to do over the weekend. They were both very excited to go see their grandparents.
I had told Debbie what had happened the night before as we both went through our morning rituals. She was surprised and concerned. She asked why I hadn’t called her to let her know what had happened. To tell the truth, I hadn’t thought about it. I had only thought about what needed to be done right then. Get it done so I could go home.
Debbie told me that she had finally given up waiting for me at ten and went to bed. She said that she had heard me come in and take a shower. She apologized for not giving me the benefit of the doubt but come on now it was not the first time I had been late. She just assumed that I was working late yet again. Same old song and dance.
Right before locking the front door Debbie called her Dad to tell him we were leaving and would see them in about four hours.
I should be able to announce the date that the book will be available in the next few weeks.
Until then here is the second chapter of A Life Worth Living. Please leave your comments. I really appreciate feedback from faithful readers. I even like it from unfaithful ones.
I hope you enjoy.
Following is an excerpt of copyrighted material. Do not reproduce or use without permission from
T L Scott and Horton Jones Publishing.
Chapter 2: A Forty Percent Chance of Rain
Showered and shaved I went into the kitchen and put the coffee on to brew.
I really loved our kitchen. It felt comfortable like a kitchen should. The sink had a window over it that let us look out on our back yard. You could see the big Maple tree off to the left and the Blue Spruce to the right. Lining the back of the yard the Dwarf Alberta Spruces provided a soft back drop to the green of the lawn. The flagstone path that led to the gazebo broke the line of the lawn into two zones. We used the left side with the Gazebo for gathering and entertaining while the right side was for looking at. It was the pristine area that we did not want disturbed. It was our little sanctuary. In the middle Debbie had made a rock garden with a Koi pond with a fountain that brought the water up to have it cascade down into the pond. I never tired of the view.
In the center of the kitchen was the cooking island. It had a range top that had three large, three medium, and three small burners. Underneath were two ovens. I suggested the ovens to Debbie and she immediately agreed with me. We had both been frustrated with preparing meals that required oven temperatures that were different. It led to us always needing to decide to either reduce the heat on one thing and put them together or to compromise in some other way. With two ovens there would be no need for compromise. The pie could cook while the turkey was finishing for example. On the side of the island there was a microwave. In the front and on the other side was storage for the pots and pans that were not hanging from the rack over the island. There were four drawers which held the cooking utensils and other things needed for cooking. Our cooking island was a culinary oasis where we did not need to go anywhere else to get what we needed. On the side of the kitchen opposite the door was our breakfast nook. The double sided refrigerator took up the other wall. Next to the refrigerator there was a pass through window. The door into the dining room was a sliding door that recessed into the wall. It didn’t take up any extra room and when cooking things like fish or frying meat it kept the smell in the kitchen and not throughout the house. It was a very comfortable room.
The kitchen and the yard were good examples of the life Debbie and I had made together. We did not agree on everything. In fact most things required discussion for us to come to an agreement. In the end though what we came up with was better than what we had imagined in the beginning. The house was comfortable. Our relationship was comfortable.
I got the box of cereal and the milk for my breakfast of champions. Hey! I know I’m not getting any younger and I’m trying to focus on eating right. I know I should be exercising more but again there just never seems to be the time to do it. Between sitting behind my desk in the office and the wheel of my car I know I’m not getting enough physical exercise and my waist is definitely showing it lately. I didn’t need to buy larger pants yet but my belt told the truth of the matter.
I could tell that Debbie realized it as well because she was preparing me more vegetables and less meat for my meals. Well, at least she hadn’t gone over the edge and served me Tofu! Not that there was anything wrong with tofu or the people that like it. In fact we had tried it and decided that it was not a taste we liked.
Alright tomorrow I would get up a half hour earlier and go for an easy jog. Just to get started again. Nothing too extreme to begin with I reasoned. Tomorrow I will get back into it I resolved.
I topped off my traveling mug with some liquid alertness and locked the door behind me. Off for yet another exciting day in the world of corporate accounting! Yes I know the joke isn’t a good one but it still never failed to bring a smile to my lips. Most people looked at the field of accounting with as much enthusiasm as a trip to the dentist. I still find it to be a very interesting job and at times even exciting. For example the work I am doing now, going back and analyzing the transactions in Bob’s department, was interesting because it provided a sense of mystery. I was like a detective trying to figure out how to solve the case. OK, that was being a bit dramatic, but it was fun figuring out what really happened. Occasionally it even led to criminal charges, when people thought they could get away with fraud or embezzlement. More often than not though, these people did not get reported to the police. They were punished by a fate that was likely as painful. They were fired and “somehow” the word spread around the major players what had happened so their professional lives died a quick and very painful death.
God I hoped Bob was not that stupid!
I told myself for the thousandth time that it was not my problem. I was not the one that decided to step across the line. I was one of the good guys. It was because of me and my department that the company was able to stop the hemorrhage these thieves caused in the financial flow which was the company’s life blood.
Wow, I just realized that I had already become convinced that Bob was guilty. I hadn’t realized that I had found the damning evidence yet but I guess I had. Now all I needed to do was to pull it all together and present my findings. The day just got a bit brighter for me. Bob’s future, on the other hand, had just taken a steep curve in the road. Of course he didn’t know it yet.
Traffic was beginning to pick up on the commute to the office. I looked around at the stoplights and saw the same bored faces I had seen before.
When you take the same way to and from work each day you tend to meet the same people doing the same routine as you. An easy nod of the head in acknowledgement to the people who were as much a slave to the grind as I was on this day before a long weekend.
Judging from the looks on their faces they needed the rest as much as I did.
Yup, just another boring routine commute. Right Mr. Bald man in the blue Accord?
I am sure you feel the same way blond lady in the Toyota Camry with the five hundred yard stare. Are you going over the things you need to get done today? Maybe the dinner you are going to make for your family when you get home, he mused. Maybe you are planning a date with an exciting lover. Or, more than likely, you are simply thinking about yet another long day ahead of you with too much to do and not enough time to get it done.
That was a thought I had grown all too accustomed to. It seemed to have become my life story. Too much to do and not enough time to get it all done. Maybe they would put it on my tombstone after I was gone.
“Dave was a good man.
He worked really hard.
There was always too much to do and not enough time to get it all done.”
The light changed to green and I moved along with my fellow commuters into another day in the world of business.
Pulling into the parking lot I noticed that there were very few cars at this early hour. I pulled into my reserved spot and retrieved my faithful traveling companion from the passenger seat.
For quite a few years now my satchel has been my only company on the daily trek to, and from, the office. I looked upon it fondly as I remembered how it had come to be mine.
Debbie and I had taken a vacation to celebrate my promotion to Assistant Department Head. Not only did the promotion mean a substantial jump in pay but also a chance to make some real changes happen.
We decided to go to Greece for a ten day getaway. The island of Crete was a perfect place for us. We both loved the ocean and the coast provided some great spots for both scuba and snorkeling. Whenever we needed a rest from that the beaches were some of the best we had ever been to. At night the quaint town by day turned into a bustling hub of activity. The nightlife was really alive. Strolling along the port area the flow of people was surprising. Restaurants lined the harbor. The waiters stood in front of their restaurant and called out their specials. They were remarkable to watch. They would fluently shift from one language to the other depending on where they thought the tourist was from. I heard one go from Spanish to Italian to English before he settled into German all within the time it took us to pass the forty foot space in front of the tables he was trying to fill. From the look of things he was doing a very good job because there were only two tables we saw which were vacant. We made one loop of the waterfront and settled on his restaurant. Surprisingly he acted as if he remembered us. I was sure that it was a good sales tactic he used instead of a remarkable memory. Then again he had flipped through four languages without missing a beat. Maybe he was that good. The food was very good and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The flow of the tourists was interesting to watch and we felt very relaxed.
When we made it back to our room we were both feeling a bit amorous. I don’t know if it was because of the Sambuca, the ouzo, or the fact we were on vacation. Maybe it was a combination of all of it. In the end I didn’t care because we made love to the rhythm of the sea. We could hear the sound of the tide crashing against the rocks less than one hundred feet from our window. Once our passion was sated we drifted off to sleep, listening to the surf, holding each other close.
One evening, we decided to be a bit adventurous and asked our hotel manager George for a suggestion on where to go. He recommended a new disco that had opened up recently and everyone said was a lot of fun. We told the cab driver the address for the disco and set off on our adventure. We were beginning to get a bit nervous. The taxi had been driving for at least twenty minutes since we left town.
Were we being taken for a ride?
I did not mean in a good way either.
I had heard stories of people being taken out into the country and then charged high rates just to take them back home.
My fears proved to be unfounded as we approached a building that had cars lining both sides of the street as we approached it. There was definitely something going on ahead of us.
I tipped the taxi driver and asked him if he would come back to get us in three hours. He happily agreed.
The entrance to the disco was beautiful. There were small palm trees lining the sidewalk with lights illuminating them. The entrance itself had the velvet rope and standard guards at the entrance. Without a line it made me wonder if this place was a good idea or not. The guards did not give us any problems as we strolled right past them. We either did not look like trouble makers or they were there to handle the line if a crowd was to form.
Once we were inside I had a better understanding of what was going on.
The entrance was done up to look like it was carved out of a cave. The lighting was dim and the sound of falling water could be clearly heard.
We walked past a large rock that had water falling around it in the center of the entrance way. The walkway was about thirty feet wide. Just past the big rock we were cast in a black light. We both looked at each other and mugged big corny bright white smiles.
The disco itself was set up in one main room and nine theme rooms off of it. There were three levels circling the main room which was easily the size of two football fields. Circling the room were the walkways that threaded their way up and around the main room. The other themes were techno, retro, and other themes I did not immediately recognize. The only constant was that they were loud and busy. Inside the main room laser lights were shooting through the air. We could feel the bass beat of euro pop as it pulsed its’ rhythm through our body. The crowd was not thick but, then again, it was still early. It was only eleven and we had come to learn that things did not really get going until at least midnight.
We bought ourselves some drinks and set off to explore the place. To say it was big was saying nothing. We went into a few of the rooms and danced. The house room was fun. Everyone was jumping up and down. We found that we did not need to know how to dance to blend in here. All we had to do was jump up and down and waive our arms in the air. That was fun for a little while but we decided to move on. The next room was a surprise, Country music with a techno edge. There were groups that were doing a passable two step. It was fun but we had enough and moved on to the next room. This was a retro room. We found music from the 60’s and 70’s but with a twist. The beats were euro pop and some of the people were dressed up like they were from the 60’s with longer skirts and the guys were wearing suits and ties. Others were dressed like flower children with peace signs and flowers in their hair.
We took a break from our explorations and rested on a couch that was off to the side and away from the pulsing music and crowds of dancers. The lighting was soft and gave us a feeling of isolation.
Before long we were lost in each other. Once our eyes adjusted to the dark we found that we were not alone. Other couples were making use of the secluded area. There were sounds coming from the back that told us that at least one couple was making a lot of use of the couch they had. We broke from our kissing when we realized that something had changed.
The dull roar of the crowd was different.
We stood up and walked over to the wooden rail to see what was going on.
Looking down on the crowd below us we were surprised to find that they were looking up at us! No, not at us. They were looking at something above us. We followed their gaze to see that the massive ceiling was separating. It was retracting in upon itself to reveal a sky filled with stars. This alone made the trip out here worthwhile. Then the laser light show began. The lights pulsed to the beat of songs we didn’t recognize but loved anyway.
We made our way down to the main floor and joined the dancers. We were soon moving along with the other dancers to the throbbing pulse of the music.
Debbie called my attention to two men that had appeared on each side of the main floor. They were holding a large tube and the crowd raised their hands in the air and started yelling and jumping with even more energy.
We didn’t know what to expect but we were caught up in the moment. We followed along with the crowd and soon were covered in foam.
The music was pulsing and the crowd was feeding off of each other’s energy. I don’t know how long we were out on the floor. The songs blended together with only differences in the beat. There was fast and then there was faster.
Eventually we both decided we had had enough. We walked outside to see if by any chance our taxi driver had returned for us. We were in no hurry and enjoyed walking back out arm in arm. We figured if he wasn’t there then the club could always call a taxi for us. We were pleasantly surprised to find out that our taxi was waiting for us.
Our drivers name was George. What a coincidence. He told us that he had just dropped off another couple at the club and luckily was able to pick us up. I think that was very likely, but I also think that he would have come back for us anyway. It was a Thursday night and I didn’t think business was brisk enough for him to turn away business.
George asked us if we had a good time which we both agreed that we had.
We asked if he knew of any good places to shop. He gave us directions to a good area saying that while they had the typical things tourists were looking for they also had some interesting local wares as well. We thanked him for taking care of us and wished him and his wife and eight children well. George then revealed that one of his many talents was prophecy as he told us that he knew we were going to stay married forever by the way that we were together. He insisted he was an expert in these matters due to the longevity of his marriage and his extensive experience watching people as they climbed in and out of his cab. Well, so far George the wise, had proven to be correct. We decided to take his advice and see what we could find for our souvenirs.
The next morning we left the hotel early after having eaten a light breakfast of croissants, yogurt, and drinking a passable coffee while listening to the sound of the sea breaking on the rocks of the coast on the southern side of the island.
We spent the morning strolling down quaint alleyways looking at the wares offered leisurely browsing among the typical tourist items. The hand crafted chess sets on display were truly a work of art. They were crafted from crystal, obsidian, or jade and in so many different forms that it was simply amazing.
I still have the set we bought in our living room. Unfortunately, no one takes the time to play it much. Debbie picked up a few pieces of porcelain with historic Greek themes hand painted on them.
We bought the pre-requisite amount of post cards and simply enjoyed spending time together in such an exotic location. The sounds of the merchants haggling with the customers (or among each other) mixed with the smells of the meat shops that were along every street we came upon created a sense of adventure. There was also the feeling that you get when you are in a place that has been around for a very long time. People had been doing the same thing as us for thousands of years in this same place. Eventually our meandering path brought us to a leather shop that had belts and wallets on display outside of the store. The smell of leather permeated the air. It was obvious that the quality of the merchandise was very good and when Debbie came up to me with a gleam in her eye and the satchel in her hand, she said that it was just the thing I needed to look the part of an executive. I faked a crestfallen look as I said that I thought I already looked the part. She gave me a big kiss which sealed the deal. Now here I was, years later, with the satchel in hand and remembering the touch of her lips as if it were only moments ago. Yes the good times were what it was all about!
I reminded myself to stay focused on getting the audit done and wrap things up so I could get home and help Debbie pack for the trip. The birds were starting to sing their early morning songs as I crossed the parking lot and pushed open the side door to the building.
I saw that Bill had the shift at the security control station. We exchanged pleasantries as we had done for the past eleven years. His family was growing yet again. This would make the 6th child when his wife delivered what he happily reported would be another strong son around the 20th of April. Well that was still a month away and the addition to the house was on schedule for being done just in time. That, Bill reported, was the reason he was here at this God forsaken hour. He needed the overtime to pay for it. In addition to working extra time he was also doing most of the work himself to save money. Fortunately Bill knew what he was doing. He had been a Seabee in the Navy for eight years before getting out and trying to start his own company. Bill had been a great Seabee. He knew construction. Unfortunately for him, and his family, his timing was bad and his business skills were worse. The company folded after only two years. Bill was a hard worker and his resume’ showed as much.
Fortunately he was able to get a job as a security guard as a temporary way to pay the bills and support his wife and three children. Well that was eleven years ago and he was now the senior guard at the company and was in charge of a staff of thirty-two people. Bill was good people and I enjoyed talking with him. Unfortunately, today there is a lot to get done so I had to cut it short.
The morning went by without a hitch until 10:15 when Becky informed him of an emergency meeting of all department heads. Dave was fuming inside. “Crap that is just what I do not need! Well there is nothing I can do about it.” I wrapped up the audit and sent out a couple of short important emails on what needed to be done. I planned for the meeting taking an hour. I knew Ken liked to get right to the point and not waste anyone’s time in needless meetings. As I entered the conference room I saw that they were setting up the telephone with the speaker. It was not uncommon to link with remote sites so they could listen in on the meetings. I soon found out that unfortunately it was not Ken that was running this show. I learned that this was to be a meeting with Mr. Sullivan from the head office via conference call. Needless to say he was not happy and in the end I had more work to do than what I had before the meeting.
On the way back to my office I remembered the promise I made to Debbie and thought about how I could delegate out some of this added workload without overburdening my staff.
Once in my office, I quickly went over the main projects we had going on and saw that some of the people looked to have space to handle a few extra tasks. I called a meeting for one o’clock and set to work on how to divvy out the load.
Before I knew it the day had somehow flew by and it was now almost four o’clock. I went around to my people and made sure they were ahead of things before letting them go on the long weekend. By the time that was done it was already after five and I still had a few more items to complete on the audit.
The next time I glanced at the clock it was already going on seven o’clock. OK not as early as I wanted to leave but not as late as my worst case scenario had been either. I saved the whole audit report to back up and printed out the finished copy and put it in the satchel.
I locked up the office and then the department door and took the elevator down to the lobby. Lisa had the security desk and I wished her a good night on the way out. About half way to the car it started to rain. I managed to get in without getting too wet. This was getting out of hand. I didn’t like the way that I was breathing so hard after such a short and easy jog to the car. I promised myself to start working out again. I was not getting any younger and the signs were becoming obvious and a spare tire and breathing hard with only a light jog were only part of it. I was in my 40’s now and not my 20’s and needed to take better care of myself for the kid’s sake. Wake up early tomorrow and go for an easy short run I said to myself. With that resolution made I pulled out of the parking lot and merged into the flow of traffic for the drive home. As usual my brain shifted to auto pilot and I started going over the work I needed to do in my head. Just another typical night.
About a mile into the drive home it really started to pour. I slowed down because I couldn’t see out of the windshield more than fifty feet. I could clearly see the tail lights of the car in front of me but everything else was hidden behind a veil of falling water. It was coming down so hard I could actually see the raindrops splash up off of the hood of the car. It would have been a surreal scene if not for the need to drive through this downpour. It was making a continual drumming sound on the car that drowned out the news on the radio saying that there was a forty percent chance of rain. Well, I guess you guys got it forty percent right this time.
Dan Strump was becoming more and more frustrated. He knew he should not have gotten off of the interstate. How many times had his wife chided him for taking what he thought to be a short cut only to have it add extra time onto their trips? True he had to get off to find a gas station but as he was looking at the map it looked like it would save him a good forty five minutes if he took this road. Of course this blasted rain did not help matters at all. At this rate he was going to lose time for sure. He was looking for the names of streets to get his bearings and did not see the stop light. To his credit the city had not changed the bulb and it was kind of dim. Add to that the diminished visibility due to the deluge coming from the sky and it was a disaster in the making.
I could barely make out the light changing from red to green. I let off of the brake and started to ease forward. I was just about to enter the intersection of Jasper and 9th Avenue when right in front of me a car slammed into the Ford I was following. I didn’t even think about it I just slammed on the brakes and threw the car in park. The next thing I knew I was running to the two wrecked vehicles. The car that had struck the one I was following was in pretty good shape as it was an older Cadillac and had fared much better than the Ford. The Ford had been hit in the passenger side pretty hard.
The Cadillac man was out of his car and looked to be pretty shell shocked. No one had come out of the Ford yet. I checked the man out quickly. He was walking ok if a bit stiff. No apparent bleeding or disorientation and aside from mild shock there were no apparent injuries.
I turned my attention to the other vehicle. I could not see much on the damaged passenger side as the steam from the damaged radiator of the Cadillac lodged in the door panel blocked my view.
I ran around to the driver’s side of the Ford and saw long blond hair lying on the steering wheel. Only then did I realize that the car horn was blaring away. I opened the car door and reached in and felt for a pulse on what turned out to be a woman’s throat. It was strong and steady. I looked over her to the passenger of the car and saw that her passenger had not fared very well. There was a lot of blood on the dashboard in front of him and what appeared to be a deep gash on his forehead. I could see blood coming out of his ear which I knew could be a bad sign. It could indicate bleeding from the brain. That was when out of the corner of my eye I saw the baby in the car-seat in the back. Aside from being scared, she did not look to have any injuries. Her pink coat and hair had pieces of glass on them but I did not see any blood. Just then, the woman woke up and in a groggy voice said “what happened”? I turned my head to tell her that everything was going to be Ok. Before I could get it out she screamed: “MY BABY”!! She spun around to look into the back seat. She must not have focused on the passenger seat because the next thing she said was “Thank God you are ok Michel. It’s going to be ok baby. Mommy is going to make it all ok my big girl.” Then she must have thought about her husband because she asked, “Jerry, are you ok? Jerry? Oh God Jerry???” That last came out as little more than a whisper.
“Everything’s going to be ok.” I told her the first thing I wanted to focus on was getting her and the baby out of the car and a safe distance away. I couldn’t do much for Jerry until then. He was blocked in and I could not get to him until the woman and the baby were safe.
I was able to get her and baby Michel to the side of the road where some other people began to help out. Luckily there was a bus stop on the corner which provided a little shelter from the rain. Someone had thoughtfully put a blanket around the woman and baby to help them keep warm.
As I came around the side of the damaged vehicles the driver of the other car was still standing there saying over and over again that he did not see the traffic light at all. He did not know there was a light there at all. He was in shock all right but not in immediate danger. I don’t think he realized that he was drenched and standing in the middle of the road with cars driving past him.
It is kind of funny how when there is an accident some people will stop to help and others will just keep on driving by. “No sir not my problem” they probably say to themselves as they go on about their business. Dave would never know for sure what those people thought. He was in the first group. He always had to stop and help. Debbie couldn’t figure it out and it was beyond Dave to explain. It was something that just was. At first he tried to attribute it to his training in the Navy but they both knew it went beyond that. Sure, the training prepared him on what to do but the need to help was there before he joined the Navy. It simply was a part of who he was.
I ran back around to the open door of the Ford and climbed inside to check on Jerry. I felt a weak pulse and could see that he was breathing on his own. Right then I heard the welcome sound of approaching sirens. I don’t know how much time had passed but I knew that every moment counted for this man. He had a bad laceration on his forehead and his nose looked to be broken. He might have had a punctured lung as well because I could see pink frothy bubbles coming from his nose. Then again, he did have a broken nose. I felt that there was a good likelihood of internal injuries because of the way the car had been hit so I did not try to move him out of the car. Instead I sat there with him until the police arrived on the scene followed by two ambulances.
Everything after that became a blur. By the time I was done making my statements it was well past eleven. I arrived home to a dark house emotionally and physically exhausted as I stumbled up the stairs thankful for the way the carpet kept my shuffling gait quiet. I went right into the master bathroom, undressed, and showered as quietly as I could. I did not want to wake up Debbie or the kids. Not only because they needed their sleep but also because I didn’t want to talk about what had happened. I was too tired to go over it again.
I took a quick shower with the water pressure low so it wouldn’t make a lot of noise. I couldn’t help thinking that if I had left the office just five seconds earlier it may have been my car that was hit. It could have been me. Instead of being in the shower I might have been lying on a gurney in the emergency room, or worse.
I lay down in my own bed and as tired as I was I could not fall asleep. I kept thinking about what had happened and how easily things could have been different. The driver of the car that ran the light was from out of town and did not know the area. In the driving rain he said he didn’t see that there was a light at the intersection and swore he was doing less than the speed limit of thirty five.
That all may very well have been true but, in the end, it did not matter to Jerry and his wife. The late model Cadillac hit their car with enough force to forever change their lives.
All through the night I kept seeing her blond hair as it fell around the steering wheel. At one point I woke up in a cold sweat with a scream lodged in my throat. I saw the blond hair around the steering wheel again, but as her head turned towards me, it was Debbie’s face I saw. I must have gotten some sleep after that but did not feel rested when the alarm sounded at 7:30.
Debbie, as usual, had been her efficient self and had the van packed and ready to go. Breakfast was served promptly at seven-forty-five and the kids and I were seated around the table talking about what we were going to do over the weekend. They were both very excited to go see their grandparents.
I had told Debbie what had happened the night before as we both went through our morning rituals. She was surprised and concerned. She asked why I hadn’t called her to let her know what had happened. To tell the truth, I hadn’t thought about it. I had only thought about what needed to be done right then. Get it done so I could go home.
Debbie told me that she had finally given up waiting for me at ten and went to bed. She said that she had heard me come in and take a shower. She apologized for not giving me the benefit of the doubt but come on now it was not the first time I had been late. She just assumed that I was working late yet again. Same old song and dance.
Right before locking the front door Debbie called her Dad to tell him we were leaving and would see them in about four hours.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Inspiration has struck! Now what?
There are times when an idea is so overpowering that it takes on a life of its' own. It simply will not allow you to put it to the side and take time from it. All those pesky things like family and that 9-5 job are such annoying distractions. This type of story telling is like a sprint.
There are other times that an idea takes a more meandering path. It can strike and light up your life for a minute, a day, or even a whole week and then it kind of fades away. It is as if the passion has ebbed away.
I have also had ideas that I keep bumping into. I had put them to the side and moved on to other interesting tid-bits to only have them show up again.
What is the point? Well it is about developing the idea or concept to the proper point. What is the proper point? Well that is what makes this craft interesting, challenging, and exciting.
I have heard it said that you cannot go back and write in the same way as when you put aside the idea, draft, manuscript etc. Well that might be a good thing. Some of those concepts needed a fresh angle, a more developed perspective. Maybe it was not the story that needed time to develop. Maybe it was the writer that needed to grow into it?
My point is that as a writer it is our job to write. To do that we need to work on developing the idea until it becomes the story it was meant to be. You need to dedicate the time to doing just that. Time to develop not only the idea but the story. While doing so you are also developing as a writer.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please feel free to leave your comments. If there is another topic you would like to discuss let me know.
I wish you all the very best and happy story telling.
T L Scott
There are times when an idea is so overpowering that it takes on a life of its' own. It simply will not allow you to put it to the side and take time from it. All those pesky things like family and that 9-5 job are such annoying distractions. This type of story telling is like a sprint.
There are other times that an idea takes a more meandering path. It can strike and light up your life for a minute, a day, or even a whole week and then it kind of fades away. It is as if the passion has ebbed away.
I have also had ideas that I keep bumping into. I had put them to the side and moved on to other interesting tid-bits to only have them show up again.
What is the point? Well it is about developing the idea or concept to the proper point. What is the proper point? Well that is what makes this craft interesting, challenging, and exciting.
I have heard it said that you cannot go back and write in the same way as when you put aside the idea, draft, manuscript etc. Well that might be a good thing. Some of those concepts needed a fresh angle, a more developed perspective. Maybe it was not the story that needed time to develop. Maybe it was the writer that needed to grow into it?
My point is that as a writer it is our job to write. To do that we need to work on developing the idea until it becomes the story it was meant to be. You need to dedicate the time to doing just that. Time to develop not only the idea but the story. While doing so you are also developing as a writer.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please feel free to leave your comments. If there is another topic you would like to discuss let me know.
I wish you all the very best and happy story telling.
T L Scott
Sunday, May 19, 2013
How to find time to write in a chaotic world
How to find the time to write in a chaotic world.
As I am writing this my children are playing. They are not the quiet sort. They are very energetic and really get into whatever adventure they are undertaking. My wife is chatting away on the telephone with a friend. When this is done we will be going out for the day to attend to family business.
I say all of this because most of you are like me. We do not live in a vacuum. We have lives that need to be tended to. We have families that demand and deserve our attention. Most of us have full time jobs as well. I am including you home makers as well. You may not punch a time clock but you have a salaried position that is very demanding. Keeping up the everyday business of running a home is work!
So now that we have established that we are busy and pulled in many different directions, when do we find the time to follow our passion of writing.
We make the time. That may sound cliche' but it is the only way. I have talked with other writers who carry around their idea book. It is a small notebook that they keep in their purse or pocket. When inspiration strikes them they take out their idea book and jot down the inspiration. I have one friend that uses breakfast and lunch to work on his story lines. He puts his notebook next to his bowl of cereal or his lunch tray and works on his story.
I have found success using both of these strategies. I have also learned through trial and error that my best time to write is in the morning. If I wake up and power up my trusty laptop before anything else I am able to get in some really productive storytelling. I also try to write before going to sleep. This may only be for 15 minutes or so, sometimes for hours on end, but I find that whatever idea I am working on it is usually richer after letting it simmer overnight. On the nights that creativity is flowing I have found myself surprised to see that it is 3 am and time has literally slipped away. I admit that I really love the feeling when that happens. The next day at work I am paying the price though. Unfortunately I am not one of the people that work very well on only 4 hours of sleep a night. I like my sleep. I like a good 8 to 10 hours of sleep. Unfortunately I also like to write and my busy day takes up most of my time so sleep is sacrificed on the mantle of creativity.
So in summary capture inspiration when it hits by jotting down your ideas and ways to develop them, take advantage of situations like breakfast and lunch when you can write while you are doing something else, and make time to immerse yourself in your story. For me the best time is in the morning but find out what works for you.
The biggest advice I can pass along is to keep at it. There will be a million and one things that get in the way. Things that demand your attention will always be around. Focus and find the time to follow your passion of writing and you will be a writer, and writers write!
All the best,
TL Scott
As I am writing this my children are playing. They are not the quiet sort. They are very energetic and really get into whatever adventure they are undertaking. My wife is chatting away on the telephone with a friend. When this is done we will be going out for the day to attend to family business.
I say all of this because most of you are like me. We do not live in a vacuum. We have lives that need to be tended to. We have families that demand and deserve our attention. Most of us have full time jobs as well. I am including you home makers as well. You may not punch a time clock but you have a salaried position that is very demanding. Keeping up the everyday business of running a home is work!
So now that we have established that we are busy and pulled in many different directions, when do we find the time to follow our passion of writing.
We make the time. That may sound cliche' but it is the only way. I have talked with other writers who carry around their idea book. It is a small notebook that they keep in their purse or pocket. When inspiration strikes them they take out their idea book and jot down the inspiration. I have one friend that uses breakfast and lunch to work on his story lines. He puts his notebook next to his bowl of cereal or his lunch tray and works on his story.
I have found success using both of these strategies. I have also learned through trial and error that my best time to write is in the morning. If I wake up and power up my trusty laptop before anything else I am able to get in some really productive storytelling. I also try to write before going to sleep. This may only be for 15 minutes or so, sometimes for hours on end, but I find that whatever idea I am working on it is usually richer after letting it simmer overnight. On the nights that creativity is flowing I have found myself surprised to see that it is 3 am and time has literally slipped away. I admit that I really love the feeling when that happens. The next day at work I am paying the price though. Unfortunately I am not one of the people that work very well on only 4 hours of sleep a night. I like my sleep. I like a good 8 to 10 hours of sleep. Unfortunately I also like to write and my busy day takes up most of my time so sleep is sacrificed on the mantle of creativity.
So in summary capture inspiration when it hits by jotting down your ideas and ways to develop them, take advantage of situations like breakfast and lunch when you can write while you are doing something else, and make time to immerse yourself in your story. For me the best time is in the morning but find out what works for you.
The biggest advice I can pass along is to keep at it. There will be a million and one things that get in the way. Things that demand your attention will always be around. Focus and find the time to follow your passion of writing and you will be a writer, and writers write!
All the best,
TL Scott
Thursday, May 9, 2013
First of all thank you for taking the time to read this.
Ok what do you do when the dreaded writers block gets ahold of you?
Well before we go there let's pause for a moment to talk about what writers block is. I know that the answer to that is as varied as the people reading these words. With that said I will share my thoughts on this topic and encourage you to do the same.
I have found that writers block for me has come in various stages and for different reasons. More often than not it is because something is not working in the story. That has been for different reasons at different times. It has taken a hold of me because a scene in the story just did not "work". I knew that it did not work but I was trying to force it into the story anyway. It was an interesting angle but it simply did not fit. I knew it did not fit and I could not get past it. I therefore became a blocked writer.
Another time was when I found myself staring at a blank page for the start of the third chapter. The harder I tried I could not get started. The more I looked at that blank page the more frustrated I became.
I can almost hear the sympathetic groaning coming from you.
Well I did manage to get past the blockage without throwing my trusted laptop out of the window.
In the first case I wrote a quick summary of the situation that did not fit. I then wrote down a summary of the story before and after that situation. Once I had that I took a step back and looked for flaws. Why was it not working? The answer became blatantly clear that I was trying to put it into the wrong part of the story. The character was too developed in the scene compared to the story around it. Of course I could have used a technique to make it work with a dream or flash-forward or something else but that was the problem. It was too obvious that it did not flow well. By putting it into the story later on it not only fit into the story but added a depth to the story that was missing.
I used a similar technique in the second instance as well. I distilled the story and then looked at the major progression points for the story. I then broke down the major points of the characters and their interactions. Once I had that backbone for the story I was able to work through it and with continued refinement I was able to massage it into a very interesting story. "Fault Line" will be my next release. More on that in future posts.
In summary I want to say that writers block can strike anyone for any number of reasons. My recommendation is to take a step back and break down the story and then plot out the connection points of the story. Once you have that basic format I have found that I am able to build on it until somehow the story is told.
Please share you thoughts.
All the best,
T L Scott
Ok what do you do when the dreaded writers block gets ahold of you?
Well before we go there let's pause for a moment to talk about what writers block is. I know that the answer to that is as varied as the people reading these words. With that said I will share my thoughts on this topic and encourage you to do the same.
I have found that writers block for me has come in various stages and for different reasons. More often than not it is because something is not working in the story. That has been for different reasons at different times. It has taken a hold of me because a scene in the story just did not "work". I knew that it did not work but I was trying to force it into the story anyway. It was an interesting angle but it simply did not fit. I knew it did not fit and I could not get past it. I therefore became a blocked writer.
Another time was when I found myself staring at a blank page for the start of the third chapter. The harder I tried I could not get started. The more I looked at that blank page the more frustrated I became.
I can almost hear the sympathetic groaning coming from you.
Well I did manage to get past the blockage without throwing my trusted laptop out of the window.
In the first case I wrote a quick summary of the situation that did not fit. I then wrote down a summary of the story before and after that situation. Once I had that I took a step back and looked for flaws. Why was it not working? The answer became blatantly clear that I was trying to put it into the wrong part of the story. The character was too developed in the scene compared to the story around it. Of course I could have used a technique to make it work with a dream or flash-forward or something else but that was the problem. It was too obvious that it did not flow well. By putting it into the story later on it not only fit into the story but added a depth to the story that was missing.
I used a similar technique in the second instance as well. I distilled the story and then looked at the major progression points for the story. I then broke down the major points of the characters and their interactions. Once I had that backbone for the story I was able to work through it and with continued refinement I was able to massage it into a very interesting story. "Fault Line" will be my next release. More on that in future posts.
In summary I want to say that writers block can strike anyone for any number of reasons. My recommendation is to take a step back and break down the story and then plot out the connection points of the story. Once you have that basic format I have found that I am able to build on it until somehow the story is told.
Please share you thoughts.
All the best,
T L Scott
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Hello faithful readers,
As I promised here is the first chapter in the forthcoming novel A Life Worth Living. I would appreciate your feedback.
As I promised here is the first chapter in the forthcoming novel A Life Worth Living. I would appreciate your feedback.
Chapter
1: Burning the Candle
Three days earlier and 143 miles
south west. . .
One hundred seventy six thousand twenty four,
thirty eight thousand nine hundred and sixty, two hundred thirty four thousand
one hundred and six . . .RING, nine hundred seventy three thousand RING RING. . . Oh hell!
“Becky, can you get that?”
RING. . . A quick glance at the clock confirms what he
already knows. Becky, his secretary, has
already left for the night, and he is yet again working way too late.
It’s probably Debbie on the
phone to tell him to come home for a cold dinner.
Knowing that his line of thought is
broken he picks up the phone.
“Thompson here.” He says.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” His wife immediately asks.
They are both all too familiar with this
routine. It’s not that Dave wants to be
away from his family so much. It’s that
his job is not an easy one and to do it well he has to work hard at it. That usually means not only late nights but
also some weekends as well. He likes to
provide nice things for his family and it takes money to give it to them. There is nothing wrong with that, right? Unfortunately though, it usually means him
sacrificing his time with them for time staring at rows upon rows of
numbers. This is just another night
among many, working late yet again. OK,
there is something wrong with that.
There is just not enough time in the day to do all that needs to be
done!
“Don’t tell me,” she said sarcastically. “You lost track of time again right? You didn’t realize that it’s already past
eight? Sometimes Dave I feel like you
prefer spending your time with Becky instead of me! You know what?” she asks as I hear her taking a calming
breath. “I don’t even care
anymore!” The edge in her voice is
growing sharper as her voice gets louder.
“That’s not what’s important here.
What is important is that Aidan scored the only goal of the game and not
only were you not there to see him do it, yet again, you were not even home for
dinner so he could share it with you then!”
she told him.
“Do you want to know what he
said about that Dave? He said I should
go easy on you because you were working hard for all of us! Do you get that Dave? He was defending you not being there for
him.” Debbie had dropped her voice and
was speaking slowly, enunciating each word.
Dave knew from long experience that she did it to ensure that there was
no mistaking what she was saying. She
only did it when she really meant what she was saying and more often than not it was when she was
really upset about something, like now, for example.
“Dave, we have a great son
and you do not spend nearly enough time with him and you know it!” she fumed.
The sad thing is that
everything she is telling me is the truth.
I know it and so does she. I want
to be with him more because not only do I know how great he is, but also because
I know he deserves better. I just wish I
could get it all done and have the time to spend with him and with Summer, our
daughter, who is equally as neglected by me, and just as deserving of my
time. She is also pretty awesome in her
own right.
This is a problem that has
continually gotten worse throughout our eighteen years of marriage. While I was in the Navy I was gone more than
either of us wanted. We decided to get out of the Navy and put the
GI Bill to good use. I went back to
school and finished up my degree. Debbie
was great about supporting me. She had
already completed her degree and was a Registered Nurse.
Even though she was working long hours
she still made time to take care of the bulk of the chores around the house and
to mentor me on some of the subjects I was struggling with, especially
math. In fact, if it wasn’t for her
clarification of key points I know that I could not have gotten through it with
the grades I did. I knew that I owed her
and I would always try to pay her vigilance back.
After I graduated I didn’t
simply fall into the job of my dreams.
The market was not a very friendly one and I had to settle for an entry
level position earning much less than what I had anticipated. Fortunately we were not saddled with debt so
it was manageable.
It turned out better than I had
originally thought. The lessons I
learned in the Navy served me well in the accounting world as well. Attention to detail and a good work ethic
made me a good sailor and a good accountant.
I was focused on the job and the company. I attributed my eventual success to that
strong work ethic. I rose up through the
ranks of the company rather quickly and now find myself in charge of the
regional accounting department.
I love the job, and for the most part,
genuinely like the people with I work with.
I do not like getting calls in the middle of the night reminding me that
I also have a family that needs me and my time as well.
Don’t misunderstand me. I want to be with them. It’s just that I would rather be at home making
my wife and children happy instead of being reminded, yet again, that I had let
them down, all the while knowing I have this audit to complete before the end
of the month. There has got to be a way
for me to get out from under this heavy load!
All of this is flashing
through my mind as my lovely wife reminds me of my shortcomings as a father and
a husband.
I admit, I am only partially
paying attention at this point but, in my defense, I have heard this all
before, several times in fact. Well,
that is until she catches me off guard: “You do remember that we’re going to my
parents this weekend right?”
Long drawn out pause on my
end leads her to explode. “I knew
it!” She blew up! “I always have to remind you about what is
going on in this family. I don’t care
what is going on in the office! We are
leaving bright and early Friday morning as you promised!” Now she is yelling. “Dave, the kids are
looking forward to it and so am I. Plus,
you need the rest. You’ve been working
too hard and could use the break. Aren’t you looking forward to some fishing
and spending time with Dad?”
She’s right again on all
points. I was looking forward to it, but
like most things, it had snuck up on me.
I now realized that I had to get this audit done by the time I left the
office tomorrow due to the long weekend for George Washington’s birthday. Oh well, I would have to come in early
tomorrow and then stay a little after work to wrap it up. As long as there weren’t any other unexpected
problems it should all work out.
“OK honey, thank you for
bringing me back to earth. I’m leaving
right now. Is there anything you need me
to pick up on the way home?” I asked her
as my eyes focused on the picture on the corner of my desk. It had been taken how long ago? Was it possible that three years had already
gone by? Aidan and Summer were on each
side of Debbie and they were all making funny faces. The picture had been taken on the dock behind
her parent’s vacation house on the lake.
That had been a great vacation.
That was the reason it was on the desk.
No matter how bad the day was it always brought a smile to his
face. It did so this time as well.
“No,” Debbie replied “just
come home Dave.”
The resignation in her voice hurt me deep
inside. After all this time I still
loved her with all my heart.
“I’ll see you in a few
minutes.” I tell her as I start to hang
up the phone.
“Dave?”
“Yes dear?”
“Don’t open the file
again. Just get up and come home.” she said.
“I promise. I love you,”
I tell her. The pause that
followed made me very uncomfortable.
“Me too.” She finally said without a lot of conviction.
“I’ll see you in a little
while,” I said in closing.
Debbie said “See you soon.”
I looked over the
spreadsheet that had held my undivided attention for the better part of the
last twelve hours and wondered, yet again, where things had gone so wrong. The economy could not account for the
negative yield by itself. What was behind
the dip? I hoped the trend I felt that
I was onto was not true. Something did
not add up and when that had happened in the past it was because someone had
tried to cover something up. I really
hoped that was not the case here.
Bob had been with the
company for as long as I had. I knew his
family.
I hoped there were other reasons for
the disparities I was seeing. Oh well,
that was a knot to keep worrying at tomorrow.
I closed the file and put it
into the filing cabinet and locked it for the night.
Fortunately, at this hour, traffic was
light and I made it home in twenty minutes.
As I pulled up to our comfortable house
in our comfortable neighborhood and pressed the button on the garage door
opener for our two car garage, I couldn’t help but feel some pride in what I
had achieved.
To say I came from meager
beginnings was saying a lot. I had lived
on my own since I was fifteen. I worked
two jobs at a time and also did odd jobs just to make ends meet. I was able to put myself through high school
but knew going to college was out of my reach.
My grades were not up to scholarship level and to be honest that was
because I did not put as much effort into studying as I could have. But, then again, I was working a lot, and there
simply was no time to spare.
One day a friend of mine
told me that he had decided to join the Navy.
I had never thought much past high school but immediately felt that this
was worth looking into further. I saw
the Navy as a way to get me out of that small town in the Mid-West. I had no idea where I wanted to go but I felt
that my future was somewhere out there, yet unknown but I could feel it calling
to me strongly.
Now here I stand, a grown
man with a wife, two kids, and a mortgage.
I said to myself, “You’ve
done alright kid”.
Walking into the house I
could hear the sound of the TV coming from the family room and a low bass beat
coming from one of the bedrooms upstairs.
That would be Summer listening to her current favorite group up in her
bedroom. I knew it was not Aidan because
he preferred to listen to his music on his headphones.
I hung my coat up in the
closet in the foyer and set my satchel down in its usual spot. I took off my shoes and put on my
slippers. Debbie insisted on not wearing
outside shoes in the house. Over the
years it had become a part of the normal routine for all of us. Routines can be rewarding she would remind
me. In this case I had to agree with
her. The carpet sure did wear better
since she insisted on the new rule. New
rule huh? That was over fifteen years
ago now. Aidan was just starting to
crawl and she was concerned about keeping the floor as clean as possible. The rule had stuck and now it was just
another part of our daily life.
I went into the family room
and kissed Debbie on the back of the neck.
At thirty nine she was still the most beautiful woman I knew. I often wondered what she ever saw in me. Not that I ask that question out loud or too
often less she start to wonder the same thing.
Although lately I fear she has been asking herself that very
question.
It’s not that she’s doing
anything really differently. There just
seems to be a kind of coolness settling in between us. Where before there was a
burning desire between us, now there was a softly glowing ember. That would be normal and even welcome except
that we were not reaching for each other anymore. The little things are what make a marriage
strong. Little things like a touch while
passing, reaching across the table over breakfast while making a point, the
simple desire to touch each other, to be in touch with each other. That desire seems to have gone into a
hiatus. I still hold out the hope that
it is only a temporary one.
The mostly empty bottle of
Moscato on the table and the nearly empty glass in her beautiful hand tell me
that she is really upset.
As I sit down on our brown
leather couch, that in my opinion cost way too much and in her opinion is very
stylish, although, I must admit, it still is very comfortable even after ten
years so I guess it was a good investment.
I look at her and say “I’m sorry”.
She knows me too well. Raising an eyebrow she asks, “What is it that
you are sorry about?”
I decide to plunge right in
and get to the truth at the very heart of the matter, at least in my
opinion. “I am sorry that I’m not here
more for you or for the kids.”
Debbie looks me right in the
eye and surprises me by saying: “Forget about me Dave! The kids are getting older fast and you are
missing out on things. These are things
that you cannot get back! As much as
they say they understand, it still hurts them when they can’t share these
things with their Dad. Listen, I know
that you didn’t have a Dad that you could lean on but these kids do! It’s just that you are so busy at work that
you are not there for them. Don’t get me
wrong, you are providing for them very well financially and materially. That’s great!
But they need more from you. They
need you!! Ok, don’t forget about me
because I need you too! I know we have
talked about this a lot but damn it you need to do something about working all
of this extra time! Nobody else does it. Why do you need to?”
Well . . .? ? Why do I need to? I have good people that know what they are
doing that work for me. Why am I the one
that always stays late and comes in early?
Ok, part of it, to be honest, is because it is what I have always done. It’s a habit I have fallen into. But the question is: Do I NEED to do it? I need to really look at this from a
different perspective.
Once the audit is done and I am ready
for the meeting and things settle down again.
No, No, NO! That’s just a stalling tactic.
I need to take the time to assess my
job, not only what I am officially assigned to do in my position but also all
of the little things that I take care of as well.
Maybe I should delegate some
of it. Am I keeping things too close to
the chest and possibly stifling the progression of those under me? Or should I hire someone new to take on the
extra work that has crept on me and maybe others in the department as
well. Definitely this is something I
need to look into seriously.
With that settled, at least
in my mind, I told Debbie that I would seriously look at it. I could tell by the surprised and somewhat
dubious look on her face that she was hopeful yet cautious.
I couldn’t blame her. I had
made promises like this before only to have the same old pattern re-emerge in
short order.
I didn’t like seeing the
look of doubt cloud her beautiful face and I promised her in my heart that I
would follow through this time. For some
reason I felt that this time it was more important than ever before.
With that settled, at least
for now, we settled into a comfortable night together. Well, somewhat together. I ate the leftovers which she had
thoughtfully left in the oven to keep warm while Summer continued to enjoy
whatever new music group she was into and Aidan likely was either reading or
studying in their respective rooms.
Debbie took up her place on
the couch again with her stockinged feet tucked under her still attractive
posterior. I loved the way she curled up
like a cat. She had no idea how
attractive she was just sitting there like that. Lately it seemed that it was the only time
that she looked like she was relaxed.
She really looked like the girl that I fell in love with back in school.
All in all, it was a comfortable
evening.
I tried to deny the
differences that had crept into our relationship. It used to be that she would cuddle up to me
and enjoy watching whatever was on the television. Lately however we had fallen into a more
distant relationship, not cold exactly but not close either.
This was something that I was growing
more and more uncomfortable with. The
sad thing was that I knew I was at fault.
She had made strides to keep our relationship interesting. We still enjoyed our date night, even if it
had gone from once a week to once a month or so. We were both busy! Even so, I felt us drifting apart and vowed
to do something about it this time.
As we settled into bed I had
hopes of us coming closer together. I
was surprised at how much I craved her touch right then. I knew it was not to be as she quickly
reached up and turned off her light then turned her back to me. I contented myself with reading up on the
Wall Street Journal. Not exactly dull
but not the scintillating night I had fantasized about while sitting on the
couch.
Sleep came slowly and not
exactly restful. I kept going over
whether I had created my own monster.
Did I really need to work so much?
Could I be more efficient and thus spend more time with the family that
I loved with all my heart? I chased
these thoughts throughout the night without any clear resolution, until I
looked at the digital readout that was mocking my tired eyes at 5:15. I resolved to get a head-start on the day.
Planting my feet on the wood
floor never failed to make me smile.
When we were deciding on how to design the house I left most of the
decisions up to Debbie. Officially we
agreed that since she was going to be home more than me due to her taking care
of the kids, then she should have more of an input on the house. Unofficially, and more honestly, it was due
to her being much better at designing a good home than I was.
One thing that I would not
budge over though was having a real wood floor in the dining room and the
master bedroom. She argued with me about
putting her feet on a cold floor in the morning. We solved this with a simple yet creative
solution. She picked out a rug. In truth, she did not fight me very much over
it.
I really enjoyed feeling
something real that was mine. On top of
that, the temperature difference helped to wake me up.
I walked into the bathroom
to go through my morning routine.
Push-ups, brush teeth, push-ups, shave, push-ups, get on scale. How could I have gained two pounds since
yesterday? I tried to tell myself that
it was muscle weight.
Self answered:
Bullshit! Self called it like it was.
There was no way that starting back to
doing push-ups yesterday and this morning produced two pounds of muscle. Now, the piece of chocolate cake after lunch
that was a possibility.
Stepping into the shower I turned on
the water. Debbie always turned the
water on first to let it warm up. I
liked to feel the cold water first. It
felt refreshing and really woke me up. I
still took “Navy” showers. It was a
habit that had been ingrained into me.
Plus I still thought that it made a lot of sense. Get wet then turn off the water to soap up
then turn it back on to rinse off. Some
habits never wear off I guess. Plus there was only so much fresh water. Why waste it?
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