Alan Rickman….A Eulogy

Alan.1PE2YI was devastated to read of Alan Rickman‘s passing. In my opinion he was an actor up there with Lawrence Olivier, Anthony Hopkins, and Dustin Hoffman.  Coming from blue-collar, humble beginnings this actor was classically trained and attended the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London.  He went on to hone his craft to new heights through his 45 years on stage and in film. I used to joke that “I would watch Alan Rickman eat corn flakes.”  Surprisingly, (or maybe not) the obituaries do not mention his more subtle roles. Alan.Sense.37C7K Sense and Sensibility, and Snow Cakes, for example.  Two films not to be missed if you are a true Rickman fan.

I wept knowing that the world will never witness his talent and subtlety; his ‘less is more’, his understated brilliance ever again. His seductively brandy-smooth voice is stilled.Alan.4

loss  ©   Haiku by Trisha Sugarek

he trod the boards, sure
light illuminates his steps
he’s gone now… is he?

 

Alan.4M3

For more details here is the NY Times article: http://www.nytimes.com/2016/01/15/obituaries/alan-rickman-dies-at-69.html?partner=rss&emc=rss&_r=0

‘What desperately sad news about Alan Rickman. A man of such talent, wicked charm & stunning screen & stage presence. He’ll be sorely missed.’  Stephen Fry

A Dog’s Life…..(short story)

Rocky, Fiona, Gus (left to right)
Rocky, Fiona, Gus (left to right)

How did God know that we would need a companion who would unfailingly soften the hard edges of life that is a human’s path? Unlike any other animal, or for that matter, person, a dog just knows…and comforts its humans when sad, in poor health or just needing a good laugh.  We talk about their devotion and unconditional love because that’s what we experience when we have a dog as a friend.  We reach out and there’s always a silky head to stroke.  We come home and they act like we’ve been gone for years.  In the lonely night they snuggle against us because that’s what we need in the dark hours.

Rocky…..A golden retriever picked up wandering the mean streets of Aransas Pass, Texas. Estimated age, 18 months…a pup really.  A rescue volunteer group called me to see if I could adopt him.  Of course I could; at the time I had 5 acres, stock fenced.  He was a hellion with little manners but house broken and so willing to please me.
At the time, my property had a barn and out under a shade tree, an oval shaped, tin, watering trough about 3 feet deep.  One of Rocky’s favorite pass times was to crawl over the lip of the trough Continue reading “A Dog’s Life…..(short story)”

Pop Culture Expressions

2A.girl.write..mouse_1I was rattling on, to my 82 year old brother, about ‘cc’ing’ my email to a team of people.  I stopped…realizing that he had no idea what I was talking about. And then he confirmed by asking, “you mean your private email went to other people? That’s not good.” 

It got me to thinking about our urban dictionary and how we use ‘pop’ phrases. I’m no ‘spring chicken’ (a different decade) but I can’t help using today’s vernacular. So with a giggle and an abiding love of words, I thought I’d write a post about it.

CC:  ‘I cc’d it to the team.‘  cc:  at the bottom of a paper letter or memo meant that the people listed got a copy of the message.  Today if I ‘cc’ Joe Smith, it would really mean I made a copy of Joe.

I’m Going to Starbucks:  Everyone on the planet knows this phrase means you’re going for a coffee.  Continue reading “Pop Culture Expressions”

That Magical Space Where You Write…

writers, fiction, create, authors, children's books, art, painting
this author’s studio

I think one of your tools, as a writer, should be a special work space.  Do you have an extra room? Even, if its all you have, a large closet will serve.  Somewhere you can call you own, a space that will, I promise you, become a creative oasis. Where no one enters except  by invitation.

And it can change from day to day. I have interviewed many authors and they write on the beach, a coffee shop, on the train, in a lonely cabin in the mountains.

An author's work space... the train
An author’s work space… the train

I’ve always had the luxury of a spare bedroom to call my studio.  On my walls I am surrounded by my own water color work, framed letters from my publisher, photos of theatre productions. In one corner is my desk and a comfortable chair.  My desktop computer has the place of honor as I do all my writing there.  I simply can’t write long hand as I cannot write fast enough when the spirit is on me!  I type seventy five words a minute and sometimes that’s too slow.  Continue reading “That Magical Space Where You Write…”

Interview | Chuck Dixon, Legendary Comic Book Writer

TS:  What Julia Childs was to cuisine, what Stirling Moss was to racing, what John Glenn was to space, ChuckDixon.new.photo Chuck Dixon is to the comic book and animated TV world. Chuck Dixon is a veteran comic book writer with thousands of titles to his name including a record run on Batman at DC. Much to his fans’ delight Chuck has recently moved into the genre of true crime fiction. I’ll be honest with my readers, I hadn’t read a comic book since Archie and Veronica. While doing my research for this interview, wherever I went in the comic book world, to this day, the aficionados told me I was in the presence of royalty. Today we’re going to read about Chuck’s writing process, where he finds the characters for his stories and what led him to murder mysteries.

Q. Where do you write? Do you have a special room, shed, barn, special space for your writing? (please provide a photo/s of your shed, room, closet, barn….) Or tell us about your ‘dream’ work space.

CD. I work in what is described by realtors as a “home office.” It’s basically a cubby hole filled with books and toys. It’s where I work since moving to Florida. My dream work space was the office I had up north; a big addition to the house with built in bookshelves and lots of room for artwork on the walls.

Q. Do you have any special rituals when you sit down to write? (a neat work space, sharpened #2 pencils, legal pad, cup of tea, glass of brandy, favorite pajamas, etc.)

CD Does checking emails count? A neat work space is NOT a priority. All I require is enough desk space for my keyboard. A mug of mate or tea is nice.

Q. Could you tell us something about yourself that we might not already know?

CD. When I was a kid I found the metal-munching mice in the Bullwinkle cartoons frightening. For some reason the idea of a huge robotic mouse climbing to the top of the house to eat our TV antenna unsettled me.
Q. You are such an icon in the comic book and animated TV world. What inspired you to switch from that genre to writing fiction?

CD. I simply got tired of waiting for someone else to give me permission to write. The possibilities offered by digital publishing are endless. Why go through the painful, tedious, and often fruitless, process of pitches and development when I can simply go from idea to finished product on my own? I turned to prose because of the massive production expenses involved with doing comics. My only investment is my time. And, truth to tell, there are a lot more people who read prose than read comics. I’m reaching readers now that I never could have reached writing comic books.

Stay tuned!  Part two and three are scheduled for Sept 28th and Oct.3
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DON’T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS featuring INTERVIEWS with  best-selling AUTHORS!      Grant Blackwood (Tom Clancy) in Sept. and Julia London in October and Matt Jorgenson later this winter. Coming in December!  My review of a new release by Dean Koontz, 
Ashley Bell.

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Nostalgia…and Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski, drunk, reprobate, genius
‘Hank’ with his beloved Remington typewriter

It’s a well known fact that I have an on-going love affair with Charles Bukowski, poet, drunk, homeless bum, reprobate, genius.  We haven’t been back to visit with him lately and it’s way past time.  If you search my posts you can enjoy my other thoughts about his writings and poetry.  My favorite is an interview I conducted with him…posthumously.  Yes, nineteen years after his death.  If that seems crazy to you…then let me be insane.  But, read it before you judge.

 

magic machine ©  by Charles Bukowski

I liked the old records that
scratched
as the needle slid across
grooves well
worn
you heard the voice
coming through
the speaker Continue reading “Nostalgia…and Charles Bukowski”

Nostalgia…through the wringer

Laundry (Small) Wash day  I just put a load of laundry in to my 21st century machine that wants to know my every wish for the perfect wash.  What temperature do I want? hot? cold? energy saver? Or perhaps cool?  One rinse or two? How long do I want to wash my semi-dirty clothes?  Do I want to wash them gently or harshly?

As I loaded my machine, one sweater would not sink into the energy-saving, cool, one rinse, water and for a second I looked around my (oh so very pleasant), laundry room for my ‘stick’.  Do you remember the stick your mother used to push down the clothes into the wringer washing machine?  Made of wood and  squeaky clean the stick was used only for that purpose;  pushing down clothes into the water and Tide detergent. I think ours was the old handle from a toilet plunger.  And, in the case of my mother, hell would rain down if you borrowed that stick for any other purpose. Continue reading “Nostalgia…through the wringer”

Letter Writing……..a Look Back! Nostalgia

the art of penmanship  When was the last time YOU received a letter, hand written, from a friend or family member?  I bet it’s been years!!
I used to have a friend (passed away at 82) who did write me in long hand.  My brother sends me a typed letter that he copies, but it is really being sent to his grand-daughter’s ex-husband in prison!  I don’t count that.  In fact I’ve asked him not to send it to me, but he forgets by the time he has written the next one!  lol

Penmanship used to be graded in school.  Wow!  I am really dating myself, aren’t I?  I still take pride in my long hand but it’s tough to slow down long enough to write!

Continue reading “Letter Writing……..a Look Back! Nostalgia”

More Nostalgia…..the Roaring Twenties

I was sorting through my library of over 500 books and came across, of all things, my ‘baby book’.  Inside I found more photos of my mother, Violet, (Wild Violets, a novel) during her flapper days in San Francisco.  Most exciting was to find this newspaper clipping featuring her on the team of a semi-pro, female basketballthe roaring twenties team.  Sadly, I did not find the article. She saved enough of her earnings with the winning team to buy a bar and grill on Fulton Street in SF.

Geisha girl costume during Violet's roaring twenties yearsThis photo is from a costume party she held at her bar.

 

 

 

And this in her camping/hunting garb. No surprise, it resembles what the heroines of the day in Hollywood wore.th114DCWAM

Violet at a hunting cabin  Here she is sitting on the porch of the cabin.  She used to laugh and quip: ‘I had to sit all prim and proper because the zipper in my pants Violet at the hunt cabin circa: 1920'shad broken’.  Check out her boots.

Last but not least, here is a studio photo of Violet (on the right) with her sister, Gladys. She was a stunner and never wanted for men…always buzzing around and not always a good thing.Wild Violets, a novel
If you want to read more please check out my novel based on her life as a flapper during the hot jazz, cold gin, dance all night road houses, speakeasy days in San Francisco.  Available in e-books and audio.

 

Wild Violets, a novelSynopsis:

After documenting my mother’s colorful childhood in the primordial forests of Washington State, I wrote a story of Violet as a grown woman with children of her own. She has left her small home town in the Pacific Northwest to pursue a successful basketball career and with her earnings, she buys a bar and grill. She is a ‘flapper’ in every sense of the word; working all day and playing all night. While her teenage daughter raises her seven year old son, Violet is out on the town with her latest man de’jour. Dressed in her signature red dress, she is the toast of the town and owner of a speakeasy where she hosts the cream of San Francisco’s society, city politicians, bishops, and Hollywood celebrities.

But there is an underbelly of corruption, grifters, the mob, excess, and neglect in Violet’s life. Her two children are an afterthought and she chooses her men over their well being time and time again. Their childhood needs are always trumped by her self-indulgent desires. The two children are possessions that she can put down or pick up again on a whim, showing them off to her current beau or friends and then forgotten. And when they get in her way, she gets rid of them.
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Celebrate Black History Month with Billie Holiday!!

Billie Holiday, black history month, African-American, people of colorPlaywright, author, Trisha Sugarek celebrated Black History Month with a musical, staged reading of her one woman show, “Scent of Magnolia”, A Tribute to the Life and Music of Billie Holiday.  Playing to a sold out house, the reading featured Krystle Pitts (as jazz singer, Billie Holiday) and Ben Rafuse (as Billie’s ‘piano man) on keyboard’. ‘God Bless the Child’ video from the show, click here:  https://www.facebook.com/writeratplay

black history month, billie Holiday, people of color,
Ben Rafuse, Billie’s ‘piano man’

Synopsis:
“Scent of Magnolia” tells the story of a young woman who rose above poverty, rape, bigotry, prostitution and imprisonment to become one of the most memorable and celebrated artists of the twentieth century. This one woman show portrays the life of a black jazz singer in America during the 30’s. The script does not dwell on the sensationalism of her addiction to alcohol and drugs but chooses, rather, to celebrate the whole woman and her music.

Billie Holiday, stage plays, scripts, monologues, jazz singer, segregrationBillie tells us not only her story, but the nation’s story. She interjects her tale with her most famous music as well as some of her more obscure songs. In her own words, she talks about her struggle to succeed in spite of the segregation of that time and the difficulties she experienced singing with the great bands, most of which were white men. Without self pity , she talks about the daily slings and arrows that are a part of bigotry. Billie takes complete responsibility for her life, her choices, and her actions. Her triumph was her music and her songs that will live on forever.

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