The Passenger

I seem to be everywhere but here, My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog, these days. As my partners in writing crime, Linda aka @modmomelleroy and Jen aka @jenkehl grow our music site I’m pleasantly surprised by where that’s going. Eight days ago, I saw Lisa Marie Presley (@lisapresley )in concert at one of my favorite venues, Eddie’s Attic ( @eddiesatic ) in Decatur, Georgia. The review I wrote for ROTR on Friday was picked up by Lisa Marie’s personal website yesterday . It has over 1,000 likes on her Book o Face page .

My other internet writing criminal syndicate, Linda again, , of course, and Natalie aka @singingfool1224 , is preparing for the launch of Lefty Pop, a politics and pop culture website in early January. For now, you can follow us on The Twitter @lefty_pop or follow us on the Book with all of the Faces . We are hoping to be Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity’s worst nightmares.

My friend Kath aka @katstheory has a music site of her own she writes for. They asked me to review one of the best John Lennon books I’ve read, Lennon: The Man The Myth The Music by NPR music critic Tim Riley. It’s 661 pages I read a couple of years ago so if you need a synopsis and a reason to check out a cool site called Earth Hertz aka @earthhertz check out my review there, posted today .

We’ll get back to more regularly scheduled programming this week, with new story episodes of Silas and Olive, on the run in Florida in 1989 through prompts for Trifecta Writing aka @trifectawriting, Velvet Verbosity aka @velvetverbosity and 100 word song. If you would like to pick the song for this week, leave your request in the comments or tweet me – @lanceburson.

If you felt like a passenger on a weird ride with this mostly self-serving “hey look at me” post, then so did I. Remember Dr. Seuss’ last book, “Oh The Places You’ll Go!”. Well please click on the links provided, “Will you succeed? Yes, you will indeed. (98¾% guaranteed.)”

Also, look below, and go buy some books for Christmas, please.

I Don't Like Mondays Blog Hop

Here’s Iggy Pop.

Are you looking for something interesting and music driven to read? I have two for you. My books, The Ballad of Helene Troy, an underdog story about a female musician in New York City, and Soul To Body, about an ex-1990s guitar player trying to raise his teenage daughter after the death of his wife, her mother, are available, digitally, on for your kindles, and in paperback from


100 Word Song – Same Old Lang Syne

Happy 2013 everyone.  Lance has asked me to guest post for 100 word song tonight and Leeroy graciously agreed.  He’s working really hard to get Helene ready for publishing this month, so I am excited to help out.  I chose this song for a few reasons. 
1) I thought it was appropriate for new years.
2) It fit with the poem I had already written out in my head.
AS Lance would say, here’s my 100. Have a great week!
Deep, honest blue eyes
that could hold my attention for hours.
Strong, firm hands
whose caress left a permanent impression on my body.
A voice
that filled my heart with sheer excitement.
The effect you had on my overall being
sent me to places that I never wanted to leave.
When I lost you, I lost my soul.
A mutual decision to end our connection
has me second guessing my every choice.
Although, moving on has given me love and healing,
I will never again experience the aphrodisiac that you stir up inside of me.
Your memories will always remain.
My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog

The song is Same old lang syne by Dan Fogelberg:

You have one week from NOW to write 100 words inspired by this song. Use the Mr. Linky and tweet/facebook your links.

Hustle and Cuss

Last time with Millicent and Pauley:

Before you read this one, go read this other one:

Boredom came easy to Millicent. An only child born to aloof, unhappy parents, she spent a lot of time alone with her imagination. Floating around the room humming a pop song she heard an hour earlier, she was sure the young woman in the bathroom would accept her imposing charm. She plotted the groggy killer’s makeover while breaking down the IV stand that nursed the patient back to health from cyanide poisoning

“Pauley, you need some foundation on that washed out face, a sleek hairstyle and accessories.”

Millicent opened her Prada handbag, removed her compact and smiled at the two silver bracelets she’d worn the night before.

“There are matching earrings somewhere in here, too. Damn it, I know I wouldn’t separate a jewelry set.”

Pauley’s cell phone jumped on the night stand. Millicent rolled her eyes and picked it up. She took in a slow, measured breath then calculated her exhale. Adopting a pageant contestant-like smile for the caller, Pauley’s boss, and her debtor, Butch; she went back to work.

“Hello, Butch. Everything is copasetic. Your Pauley is on her feet, taking much needed fashion advice, and ready to use that damn gun she loves.”

A small wave of nausea rolled through Millicent’s stomach. Having to associate with Butch and Pauley was unacceptable to her. The Stingley family was an upper class brood of intelligent, sophisticated scientists. Her father’s weak constitution had incurred gambling losses and Millicent was called to cover them. Butch seemed pleased.

“I knew you’d get Pauley through this mess. You two getting along is aces. Listen Millie, I’m on my way to the hotel. Stay put and work your glam girl magic. It’ll come in handy for what I’ve got next.”

Millicent cringed at the nickname but found the small silver hoops next to her emergency cyanide pill case. She walked over to the bathroom and heard Pauley knocking about.

“Butch, you said my family’s business would be complete after I got your little pit bull back in the pen chasing her ball. I have a conference tomorrow with a British pharmaceutical firm.”

Millicent walked back to the nightstand to pick up Pauley’s weapon. She contemplated opening the clip but figured if Butch wanted her for something she’d be safe from Pauley’s trigger finger. She knocked on the bathroom door and heard Pauley grumble something snarky. Butch continued.

“Millie, I need ya. Plus, Artie’s not answering my calls.”

Artie was her father, Arthur Stingley. After his second divorce and the loss of his government contracting job, he’d become erratic and unreliable. Millicent knew he’d come around and be the man she’d looked up to all her life.

“Arthur is probably in his lab in Atlanta, Butch. When he gets focused on a project he’s so tunnel-visioned. So, is this next thing in New York? I don’t have to use a gun, do I?”

Millicent knocked on the door again and raised her voice to ask Pauley if she needed help. Butch mumbled some instructions.

“Nah, Millie, that’s what my Pauley’s for. I need your poison pills, again. Let me talk to my girl and I’ll get you some details soon.”

She sniffed and mouthed “damn it” to show her disdain for the repeated nickname and more association with Butch and Pauley. For now, the earrings, bracelets, and someone to play dress up with would have to sustain her.

*****blogger’s note****

This is a killer collaboration between my serial killer Millicent and my friend Tara aka @Tara_R on the twitter’s hit woman, Pauley. again, read Tara’s great installment first

Today’s song is something I heard earlier in the day and it just flowed with the story and the two killer ladies. Here’s The Dead Weather’s Hustle and Cuss.

The Robot Doctrine

You will find nothing literate not literary in today’s post. Apparently the zombie apocalyspe has gripped my blogger friends. There was a new Walking Dead episode last night and I’m assuming my buddies are gathering their guns and bottled water because I’m guest posting in three places today.

Head over to You’ll find the first 700 words of my widowed husband and teenage daughter story. I’m yet to settle on a title, but by the end of the week, I will, and I’ll add a header page to this blog so you all can keep up with it easier. Please go see Cam’s site and comment. It makes her happy and drink less.

Stephanie or whatever she’s calling herself these days asked me weeks ago to write something. I kind of sort of forgot about the date until she reminded me. I blogged about, well, why I blog. It’s slightly more interesting than that and there’s a Johnny Marr and the Healers song, The Last Ride, which will entertain you if the writing does not. Go see The Drama Mama

Jenna over at asked me to write about what was going on in my head at the moment. Apparently she likes horror stories, too. It will run some time this week, but check her out anyway and she’ll tell you when to literally watch out for my piece.

There’s a new sports column going up at with my name attached at 1pm eastern today. It’s about baseball returning. There’s enough snark to go with baseball in that one.

Happy Presidents Day. I think technically we celebrate George Washington and Abraham Lincoln’s birthdays today. They’re such glory hogs. My favorite underrated President was James Monroe. The dude had his own doctrine and it’s lasted 187 years. I wish I had my own doctrine. How about this, “I will write whenever and where you want me too, because I’m part robot and I don’t sleep”.

Today’s song is from The Presidents of the United States of America. Play it loud, and veto something. All Hail The Grunge Rock.