Work in Progress

This novel is a gothic horror about the ongoing struggle and paradox between goodness and evil. Three worlds: mortal, vampire and demon are laced together in an intricate weave that will end in a battle between the demons and the vampires who refuse to be controlled by them.

Three hundred and fifty years had passed since the birth of the reigning vampire leader. All knew it was time for his successor. However, meddling with destiny forced the hand of Fate. The tables were turned and three births took place at the appointed time.

Many years would pass before the surprising truth would be revealed. In those years:

The three mortals survived their own tragedies.

The demon king and queen plotted their course to conquer or destroy the vampires.

The vampire leader, trapped in his own darkness, watched for signs to guide him.

Current Word count is 61,125.

This visual alignment doesn't happen often. It made me giggle.

The Road to a New Me.

I have struggled with weight loss for most of my life. Part of the reason is impatience. I tried to find the quick fix to my problem only to give up, regain what I’ve lost plus some. The other reason is that I never really felt fat. Maybe there are people out there that can relate to that. I would imagine this psychosis is similar to an anorexic not seeing them-selves as thin. The only time I realized that my size was an issue was when I shopped for clothes (that is before all the plus size shops opened). Perhaps I would not have reached this point if finding clothes that fit wasn't so simple. But I digress.  

I even bought into the ridiculous mindset that this is what my body wanted and all I needed was to accept my body for what it was. I think it’s called “positive body image.” I’m not saying it’s wrong. I am just suspecting my brain did not process that to my benefit. I lived that way for 15 years, just eating to my heart’s content without monitoring or listening to my body. After all that is how my body was preconditioned to be and my weight was stable, more or less. 

Like everything else, abuses will catch up to you. Lately I’ve been asking myself the how’s and why’s to my condition? Honestly I don’t know. I will gander a guess that somewhere along the line the pleasure response I got from eating filled a void or was a response to a trigger. Or maybe it was just the thrill of eating. I’m starting to pay more attention to the why’s since I already know the how. Also, I will not argue that there definitely are different body types and metabolisms. But none of these are excuses for living a lifestyle that threatens one’s health and happiness. I am on the road to discovery now. There is no one perfect diet and no magic pill. I need to find what works for me.

So, how did I finally wake up? It started with a trip to the doctor’s office a little over two and a half years ago and discovering I had slightly elevated blood pressure. Until then, it was always perfect. I also discovered I was 25 pounds over my “normal established” weight. I quickly realized the reasons; getting laid off and quitting smoking. The “amount” of weight gain came as a shock as my clothing size did not significantly change (that is a whole other level of annoyance with clothing manufactures). Due to limited finances I didn’t shop much but when I did I still fit into the same size. However, I didn’t fit into what was already in my closet. I needed to get that weight off quickly, first with Weight Watchers, then the Atkins program. Atkins seemed to work better and when a new job opportunity came I fit into my pre-layoff professional work clothes.

But, I still wasn’t there yet. I had not changed enough. I was still looking for that magic fat burning pill, or diet plan that would shed the pounds without effort. Atkins had stalled and I started falling into old eating patterns which meant “it is what it is.” On a positive note I did make other changes. I took care of other medical issues that needed to be addressed. I got complete check-ups both physical and dental. Basically, I took a stand. I was responsible for myself. And just as unemployment insurance was running out I found work. It was stressful but I embraced the corporate culture and within a year I felt pretty comfortable with the job and my co-workers. I was becoming my old positive self again.  

The second year passed quickly. Thankfully no more weight gain and I continued to put myself first. Then something incredible happened. My subconscious wanted a slimmer me. It told me so in a dream, a lovely dream where I was admiring a svelte me in the mirror. Now I don’t mean model slim. That would be unrealistic. Trust me, I looked good. I had never had such a dream before and I couldn’t forget it either. Still, at that time it was not enough to change me. But, I did start to take vitamins and make better food choices and considered a second shot at Weight Watchers or Nutrisystem.

  

Then came another layoff in March of this year. It was totally unexpected and I am still reeling from it. The thought of having to go through the trials of finding work again after only two years of steady employment was devastating. And within a couple of months that emotional downswing showed up on the scale. But, this time I vowed not to fall victim to my own neglect and depression. I talked to myself. I reminded myself of all the positive steps I’ve made to improve my health and I shouldn’t let this set back undo the course I set for myself. I lost those five pounds in a week, not by starving but by listening to my body. This was something new for me.  It was not a diet. Those never worked for me long term. What does work is breaking bad habits. I stopped smoking and that took several attempts. If I could reprogram myself into a non-smoker then I can reprogram my eating behavior. Worst case scenario my weight won’t go through the roof again.  

Guess I’m on the right track because last night I had the second “slim me” dream. Glorious! But there was something different. Though I looked stunning in a canary yellow gown I was pointing out my physical shortcomings that could not be corrected simply by losing weight (we all have something). This voice spoke and said “No one can see those. They only bother you.” Well, if that isn’t a smack in the head I don’t know what is.

Like I said earlier, my brain is programmed to overeat. With that said I have taken the first step and admitted that I have a problem and set myself on a road to discovery: 

• I am overweight because I overeat.
• I am learning to recognize my food triggers.
• I am learning to feel satisfied and not stuffed.
• I am learning that meals are to energize me, not weigh me down.
• I am determined, no matter how long it takes, to make the dream a reality.

In closing I will add that I say a prayer with each meal:

Lord, thank you for the meal I am about to receive. May this meal satisfy without gluttony. 

May the food nourish my body and soul. Allow me to eat without guilt knowing the choices I made compliment your perfect design. And, I pray I chew well and don’t choke. Amen.             

A short review of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

If you read this book in high school and hated it, I suggest you re-read it.  I was captivated by the struggle of both the monster and his creator.  Were the prose dated?  Of course. As readers and lovers of the journey the written word leads us on, we must embrace the masters of the past to recognize the genius of the present. The rhythm will become familiar as you open your mind to the a simpler time before iPads and the internet. Don't worry.  These things will still be here when you put the book down.  You may even enjoy stepping back in time for a bit.  I certainly did.

The Holiday Party (A work of fiction loosely based on actual events)

Another sleepless night. Samantha tossed and turned trying to fight the day’s events that replayed in her head. Counting sheep, such a waste of time. What did her manager mean when he said at the end of the workday, "You are a difficult employee to manage." The comment struck a sensitive nerve leaving her crushed and depressed. Her only response was, "You couldn't wait to tell me that until after the Holiday Party? Thanks a lot."  Of course, that's what he was like. Thoughtless.

Stress me out some more why don’t you? She thought as she shifted in bed for the twentieth time. Bad enough annual reviews were soon. Usually the meeting with the boss was casual. Now Samantha had to have a strategic defense ready. And of course there was the Firm’s Holiday Dinner Party, an annual event that was more an obligation than anything else. Sleep, finally. Thank you Lord for Amaretto.

The office was decorated with holiday trim. Everyone seemed to twinkle in an effort to not be outdone by garland and lights. Some wore sequence, others spiced up simple black with cubic zirconia gems that dangled from necks and earlobes. Although her Holiday spirit was dimmed, Samantha put on a smile dressed in a new shade of lip gloss, Holiday Berry, which matched her new cocktail dress.   

The hours leading up to the Dinner Party, were uncomfortable to say the least. She was never very good at hiding her emotions, especially from Mary. Although Samantha did not vent this incident, (why drag others down) she could hear Mary’s voice. Look where it's coming from. After all this time you should know how Russell is.   

This was an all time low. Samantha thought, How can I get out of this? Say I’m sick and just go home? That however, would only add to the drama. People talk in this small office. Before you know it everyone will be whispering around the water cooler. Samantha thought it over and decided to suck it up and just keep her distance, that’s all.

Quarter to three, time to go. The office emptied like a well rehearsed show. Chatter, laughter and the clicking of heals echoed in the atrium as they headed towards the main entrance. Freshly applied perfume wafted in the air. The boss always picked a five star establishment for the party and everyone tried their best to embrace the upper-crust attitude. She watched as her co-workers piled into their cars; start your engines. The roar of motors started in unison and the caravan began. Samantha giggled. All that was needed was a hearse and headlights.

Samantha lit a cigarette. It would be a while before she could smoke again. She drew heavily on the smelly addiction making sure the wind carried the offending smoke in the opposite direction. Her co-workers had an opinion about everything and the evils of smoking was top on the list. Her conscious whispered, life would be so much easier without this ball and chain. She tried to quit many times. Yet, there was nothing on Earth that calmed her nerves like a smoke. Samantha took her last drag and hunted for the Purel and mints in her bag. It was time to go.

Samantha was the last to join the group that had gathered in the large bar area. Everyone already had flutes of sparking champagne in hand in preparation for the toast. Yes, this was a party group. Without missing a beat the waitress handed Samantha hers. The boss’ eyes glanced her way. Yup, we’re all here. He began a slightly different yet familiar speech. Glasses clinked and camera’s flashed to capture the moment as Holiday music played softly. The party officially started. An array of appetizers, mini pigs in a blanket, chicken on a stick, shrimp, to name a few, were carried on pretty trays by white gloved servers who could easily weave in and out of our little group. Yes, it was planned perfectly as always, right down to tipping the valets and the coat checker.   

More drinks, more laughter, more pictures. Things were going well. Samantha was melting into the Holiday spirit. She even joined in the traditional singing of Christmas carols. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir they were not, even with printed lyrics in hand. It was sweet. She even smiled brightly in pictures with Russell. But, there was no way she would sit next to him at dinner. She wasn’t that tolerant.

Again, white gloved waiters made their stops around the elegant table, answering questions about the meal choices and taking orders. The exotic menu listed entrées that excited everyone. It was Samantha’s turn, “I’ll have the prime rib, thank you.”  It was a safe bet. Russell sat diagonally across from Samantha. He and Mary were chatting away as was everyone else. It was the usual cacophony of voices until dinners were served. It was only for a brief silence as first few bites prompted discussions and taste swapping of meal choices.The rack of lamb won out.    

The night was coming to a close. Desserts, to accompany your choice of coffee, espresso, cappuccino, or tea, were just as exotic. Who had room? Apparently, everyone. The array was magnificent. It wasn’t the first time this group rolled out of their seats. It was a repeat performance for most. This was Samantha’s third tour. Question was, who would start the ball rolling? Tom, of course. He was the only other smoker in the office. He must be dying for a butt as much as Samantha was. Like on cue, the group started to rise and say their good nights. After all, tomorrow is business as usual.

And that is was. Of course the morning brought about some carryover talk of the party. By 10 am each employee was busy with their work only taking small breaks to e-mail pictures of the previous night’s festivities. Samantha of course had her work scheduled and files were sorted in order of importance. Her calendar had phone appointments scheduled as well. She was still a bit flustered by the accusations Russell had made. There was nothing she could think of that would have prompted him to reprimand her.

Samantha gathered her composure. She hated confrontations. In her mind this matter had to be resolved. She crossed the hall to Russell’s office, entered and closed the door. “I need to speak to you about the other day. What did you mean when you said I’m a difficult employee to manage?”

Russell paused a moment as if to search for words. “What I meant was that you seem to have everything under control. And because of that I don’t know exactly my function as your manager.” Samantha took a breath trying to understand his problem.

He continued. “With the other staff members I would assign every task. I knew exactly what everyone was doing. You on the other hand take the initiative and I don’t know what you’re working on until I ask.”

This explanation struck Samantha rather funny. She suppressed the urge to laugh. “I see. Well, when I was hired it was understood that I filled a senior position even though the title doesn’t represent it. That’s how it was explained to me. I’ve always managed myself in previous jobs. That’s how I work. I didn’t know you had a problem with that.”

“It’s not that I have any problems with your work. Russell explained. It’s just that if the boss should ask about the work flow I don’t want to be caught off guard.” 

“Okay, I got it. I’ll make an effort to give you a status report. Samantha said. I really wish you would have explained your problem.”

“Well, now we understand each other. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No problem, Russell. Well, back to work.”  

Crushing the Addiction

It really isn't hard to write. I'm not talking about an epic novel or screenplay. Those are hard. But something that's on your mind for the moment shouldn't be so difficult especially if you have a computer with a word program or Facebook notes :) So today I want to write about addiction. Thankfully, for me it's only Candy Crush. But still, I have found that this popular pass time has consumed me more than any other silly app out there.  I've tried a few but CC is a tough nut to crack.  I bet it will be tougher than quitting smoking.

Yes, I have an addictive nature. But I also know that once I overcome said addiction, I'm done.  No going back. The gratification I got from smoking was really a chemical substitute for something deeper. It was a cheap, not really, substitute for emotional control. I smoked when I was frustrated believing that it calmed my nerves. I smoked to be social and back in the day to be cool. It became a time keeper in my career, like a reward that I accomplished a task and now it was time for a smoke break with my buddies. Yes, it is a chemical addiction that is hard to break. But, the emotional bond is even harder to let go of. I can attest to this because I finally kicked the habit for good when I was laid off in 2010. The social aspect of smoking was gone.

Now, I see all those anti-smoking commercials and they scare the crap out of me. I ask can I still succumb to those diseases? Can I still lose fingers and toes or be tethered to an oxygen machine when I'm older? God, I pray not, from my heart to his ears...let's play Candy Crush.  See what I mean? It's just like smoking. The satisfaction of moving on to the next level is almost cathartic.  "I did it, ha stupid game. That all ya got?" Well, I just completed episode 20. I didn't even realize the levels were called episodes until I decided not to play anymore and, more importantly, to put my commitment in writing. Yup, this is a contract with myself to put my time to better use. And if you still believe that Candy Crush (or any of the other games out there) is harmless you can check this out.

  

I found that site to be very informative not only because it was written by a fellow sufferer with symptoms that I can identify with but for the tone and insights he offers.    

Wish me luck as I walk this road and add Candy Crush to my list of conquests. It won’t be easy. Candy Crush is at your fingertips anytime anywhere as compared to jumping in the car to pick up a pack of smokes (or candy).       

Beyond Dad’s Broken English

Once I thought Dad’s values were not practical in my America.  Now, years later on what would have been his 80^th birthday I write this to honor his memory and his broken Italian/American voice that still rings clear in my ears.

        

“You shou’da been a boy, JoJo.”  That meant he recognized strength in me. 

“Learn music.  We make wedding band.”  It never happened.  But for a while we shared a dream and passion.    

I hated school and quit at age sixteen.  “You work in the store now.”  I got something money couldn’t buy; motivation.  I got my GED, enrolled in college and in time graduated.      

On my fairytale day, just before we walked down the isle, he said, “You can still change your mind.”  He hid his fears well. 

Years later, he knew he could lean on me as we walked with dignity and unspoken hope to the chemotherapy ward.