You’ll see some changes to this space as weeks progress. I learned from my BlogHer trip that I must more organized and focused in what posts here so you can know what to expect and grow along with the content. My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog will be a platform for my serialized fiction, subsequent published books, and other writing. This has always been a writing blog by a writer who likes to write.
Lefty Pop, aka http://www.leftypop.com or @lefty_pop or http://www.facebook.com/leftypop will be the destination for my opinions, politics, and pop culture material. My partner, Linda Roy aka @modmomelleroy of http://www.elleroywashere.com and I are planning some changes there that will feature more video and podcast blogging. We’re very excited about all of this.
I will write about music here, because a) that’s my gimmick b) you can’t stop me.
I’ve neglected my serialized short story, Light Of Day, about Silas and Olive, two 19-year-old lovers on the run in 1989 Florida. It’s coming to an end, sometime in the next two to three months. So, let’s get on with it. Here’s a new story episode, no prompts or tie ins, just a several hundreds words of the inevitable confrontation.
Last time: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2014/07/22/100-word-song-best-day-of-my-life/
There was a party of four riding in the Cutlass as Silas drove from The Jade strip club to Finn Brothers Garage. Zola and Olive shared the backseat as Olive changed clothes and chattered about her shift as a waitress among nude dancers and grabby men. Silas drove while a stark disquiet rode shotgun. As he pulled the car to a stop in an alley between the garage, Olive blurted.
“What the hell did you tell him, Zola? He hasn’t looked at me once since I got in the car.”
Silas parked, took the keys from the ignition, and tossed them over his right shoulder. Without turning around he delivered the plan.
“I’m going inside and getting the money. Zola, if they don’t have the two thousand you said they’d have, I’m taking whatever I can get. If something happens, let Olive drive, she knows how jacked up the brakes are on this car. If, I’m not out in five minutes, get the hell out of here.”
He walked past the passenger side window as Olive rolled it down and stuck her head out.
“Honey, I love you, forever, okay?”
The pacing of her words were typical Olive, Silas thought to himself. Quick, deliberate, and with emphasis on forever and okay. Everything he’s learned about her over the past few hours from Zola told him to not answer, keep walking, and perhaps, not come back. He gave in, one more time.
“I love you too, Liv. He felt tears well, so he squeezed his eyes shut and pivoted. By the time he got to the window, Olive was smiling. He leaned in and kissed her, tasting liquor, lipstick, and lies. He put his left hand in the waist of his blue jeans and adjusted the gun so he could draw if necessary.
He walked into the auto body shop, let the metal door slam shut, then looked over the empty bays as the echoes died down. Both Finn Brothers and their cousin, Kenny, stood thirty feet in front of him. None of them were holding money.
Here’s The Ocean Blue with their alternative 1989 hit, Between Something And Nothing.
I wrote two books. They got good reviews. The third one, a sequel to the first, Woman Of Troy, is on the way, very soon.
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 Amazon.com for your kindles, and in paperback from Lulu.com