Monday, May 30, 2016
Memorial Lesson Learned
Whatever you do this Memorial day, don't wish an old veteran Happy Memorial Day. The response you get from these men of service is, "So you wish I had died." I think it has to do a bit with survivors guilt. Its funny how people take things now, ay? Its became a tradition to wish someone a Happy Memorials Day and you assume they'll be ready with a cheery reply. Anyway this Memorial Day we set up a tent in our front yard, cleaned out the barn-It looks smashing by the way( I am using Canadian terminology:)-and listened to fireworks the night before. I was wedged between Ess and Abe on the rocky tarp of the tent bottom. It was super uncomfortable, and Karol kept barking at the fireworks. It was an awful first night and I certainly didn't act very christian. Ah well. Try better next time. Ia m so happy there is a Tomorrow, for without a Tomorrow we would be 'guilted' out of our minds. Happy Memorial Day! Take a moment to honor our fallen soldiers who fought for US. 🇺🇸
Friday, May 20, 2016
Sneak Peek at the Mark of the Mafia!
Once upon a time a little girl blew her nose. She was kneeling on the sidewalk with a stub of chalk in her fat hand. It was drizzling on the Italian street. Cornelia Devoy had just finished chalking a circus tent on the sidewalk and it was slowly washing up. The colors ran together and the dancing bear was a black smudge on the red ball.
Cornelia was a homely ten years with short black hair and a flat nose. She had a small scar on her left cheek from a pencil. The only thing that had to be looked at twice in her face were her dark eyes which glinted fire. She lived off the pier in a dirty houseboat which belonged to her obese godfather Uncle Ronald, a flabby relative with fishy blue eyes and beefy cheeks which bulged like a pufferfish(Pardon the awful pun!). He spent his days sitting outside the boat and spitting in the water. How he lived was mostly pillaging the back street dumpsters, particularly behind the bakery where there would be half consumed doughnuts and croissants, and perhaps a slab of cornbread. Cornelia was mute from birth and Uncle Ronald was socially deficient. They got on well.
Cornelia undid her satchel and drew out huge binoculars. She saw a man not fifty yards away draw a black lump from his pocket and transfer it up his coat sleeve. Cornelia put the binoculars in her satchel and followed close behind. Slipping her satchel over her shoulder, she drew out a camera and snapped a photo of the man before he disappeared round the corner. I got it, thought Cornelia smugly. Cornelia unclipped a barrette from her hair and twiddled it in the lock of an office. She locked the door again and scuttled down the acrid hallway. A curling poster of Kiki & Smith Dwarf Show was stapled to the wall. Cornelia rapped on the door. She was by far the shortest spy of the Mafia Resistance. A wiry man with sunglasses and red tendrils wrenched the door open and started. Cornelia crossed her arms. “Sorry, I’m still not to used to the insane idea...the P32 folder of Case 64.” Cornelia handed him the camera film and flipped open the manila folder. it was full of lists and articles. Cornelia looked up. Barney leaned forward and tapped the film on the worn desk. Cornelia nodded, drew out a notebook and began to scribble rapidly.
This is my newest book and it will be coming out Fall 2016. To receive an emailed excerpt please email me at amgdauvin@gmail.com. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it!
(This is a picture I drew of a vivid dream I had. It is called, The Birds Reward. I used charcoal and a rubber eraser. It sort of fits in somewhere)
Cornelia was a homely ten years with short black hair and a flat nose. She had a small scar on her left cheek from a pencil. The only thing that had to be looked at twice in her face were her dark eyes which glinted fire. She lived off the pier in a dirty houseboat which belonged to her obese godfather Uncle Ronald, a flabby relative with fishy blue eyes and beefy cheeks which bulged like a pufferfish(Pardon the awful pun!). He spent his days sitting outside the boat and spitting in the water. How he lived was mostly pillaging the back street dumpsters, particularly behind the bakery where there would be half consumed doughnuts and croissants, and perhaps a slab of cornbread. Cornelia was mute from birth and Uncle Ronald was socially deficient. They got on well.
Cornelia undid her satchel and drew out huge binoculars. She saw a man not fifty yards away draw a black lump from his pocket and transfer it up his coat sleeve. Cornelia put the binoculars in her satchel and followed close behind. Slipping her satchel over her shoulder, she drew out a camera and snapped a photo of the man before he disappeared round the corner. I got it, thought Cornelia smugly. Cornelia unclipped a barrette from her hair and twiddled it in the lock of an office. She locked the door again and scuttled down the acrid hallway. A curling poster of Kiki & Smith Dwarf Show was stapled to the wall. Cornelia rapped on the door. She was by far the shortest spy of the Mafia Resistance. A wiry man with sunglasses and red tendrils wrenched the door open and started. Cornelia crossed her arms. “Sorry, I’m still not to used to the insane idea...the P32 folder of Case 64.” Cornelia handed him the camera film and flipped open the manila folder. it was full of lists and articles. Cornelia looked up. Barney leaned forward and tapped the film on the worn desk. Cornelia nodded, drew out a notebook and began to scribble rapidly.
This is my newest book and it will be coming out Fall 2016. To receive an emailed excerpt please email me at amgdauvin@gmail.com. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it!
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