All posts tagged Circumstance

What, happened.

Published February 16, 2018 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I have been working on my second novel for slightly less time than the first one. (In case you missed itCircumstance)

The characters have been in my head for almost a decade, and for a while I toyed with calling it “What. Happened.” Then I realized that selling, publicizing,etc would soon look like an Abbot and Costello routine, and that I should probably figure something else out. (That something out is “Intentionally Left Blank”.Coming eventually.)

The title stuck with me because after some huge disaster everyone is always running around like a blind dog in a meat locker asking, “What happened?” The answer is usually easy. What is what happened. This means events have defied all description and there is no way a logical mind can put it together. (Even someone who his mostly non-logic has a hard time tossing the pieces in place. )

This week is weird for me (weirder than usual)  A year ago Monday, the world lost the bright light that was Fayth Norman. She was my student and she was killed in a murder suicide by her grandmother. So, yeah, that has me a bit down.

I also decided to try Whole30  for the first chunk of Lent, so I went ahead and started on Sunday, even though Lent didn’t start until yesterday.  Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, and this year, Ash Wednesday was February 14,

Now Valentine’s Day is my favorite holiday. True Red is my favorite color, and I am drawn to the heart shape-It’s the true symbol of eternity because Love is the only thing that is Always.  Well this year, my sweetheart is in Myrtle Beach, doing the pirate thing and while I know that I will be with him in a month, I can’t help but remember that it will be a few months before I see him again, and the who knows?  Grim indeed.

February 14 is also the anniversary of my grandfather’s death. Angelo Gonzalez was a true saint on this earth and his death marks the 15 year long decline in my brother’s health. That is a story for another time. (Suffice it to say that I am fully prepared to have to leap out of my classroom to help the Mom handle something. )

For several days I have been poised to spring back into writing something because I certainly do have something to say. I am working on an official, well researched diatribe on the disaster that is Logan Paul and  the trail of ignorance he leaves in his wake. I also have plenty to say about the day to day madness that is my work life (I love it and there are many, many stories that will make you guffaw with laughter and a few that will make you tear up a bit.) I also have an entire bucket of anger to aim at the current administration and their inability to protect the poor and feed the hungry . (Seriously, boxes of canned goods instead of food stamps? Are you seriously saying that the poor don’t deserve fresh produce and fresh dairy? Are you trying to create a new Mongol Horde?, you know those guys who were starving, had no hope and nothing left to lose so they invaded and pillaged and basically destroyed their current civilization? )

And then there is the recent school shooting.

As a teacher, this kind of thing is particularly chilling.  My students generally only talk about Takis, the lunch menu, and Logan Paul, but today they all had something to say about the school shooting. They are scared. So am I. Because I know exactly how I would react if a shooter were to barge into my classroom.

I would keep them safe  at any cost.

Because we have lost to much.

That’s What Happened. S

Finally! Circumstance is here!

Published April 10, 2017 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

After many, many moons the novel (well Novella) is here . Circumstance the novel! is now available on Amazon. If you have Kindle select you can read it free of charge.

This has been a long journey.  It began with a small notebook and large salad at Fuzzy’s. As I ate my salad I observed a couple who was clearly at having an awkward second date or possibly morning after the first date experience.

The girl kept leaving to go to the restroom. She was either in the yakking stage of a hangover or trying to call someone to rescue her. I kept watching them and a story about how she was leaving because she had an eating disorder and the guy didn’t want to break up with her because she was emotionally fragile, but he was kind of seeing someone on the side, spun out.

The side girl, who he thought was a random rocker chick from the club next door, was actually a homeless runaway. The homeless runaway turned into a character, Vanessa Riley.

The story then became hers. She had the life of an entitled teenager from a wealthy family in Baltimore. She was in love with her best friend’s brother, Charlie.  This from this came the story of Charlie’s whole family. Eventually the story turned into a crime novel, with Vanessa’s murder making her the last victim of a serial killer.

After many, many drafts with many tangential side stories, including Vanessa’s mother drowning her sorrows in too many martinis and falling into the welcoming arms of Charlie’s 19 year old best friend, it became clear to me that the real story was between Charlie and the killer, Robert Stephen Nichols.

Nichols has his own series of tangents and back stories.   He was a pure sociopath who freely admitted his guilt when the game was clearly finished.

The novella has been finished and edited for quite some time; I was just waiting to hear the results of a writing contest before I published.

Please check it out and if you love it, review it. In fact if you loathe it, review it!

I said W.I.P. (Wip it good!)

Published June 22, 2015 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I have a grand opportunity in September. I get to participate in one of Stage West’s Storyteller series. Stage West is a local theatre that  is recognized world wide for its programming and performances. I am to read one of my own creations. I have no idea what I’m going to do. It is my understanding that each storyteller will have about 30 mintues and that any topic is fair game.   I am thinking about reading the first chapter of Circumstance, which I swear is almost ready, except Charlotte Bronte keeps telling me I need to rework the first few pages.  I know that most people expect a little wackiness from me (I have no idea why.), so I am considering a follow up piece to “Watch My head” entitled, “I watched my head, or I had a stroke, not a lobotomy”   Which brings me to WIP. WIP Stands for Work In Progress.  This may be the perfect forum in which to work out the final pieces of my theory, in a tongue in cheek way. I realize that not everyone will find the humor in my proving the case for own on death and afterlife, and may just get me committed. However, it is possible that everything will Poof out of existence as I go on to the next stage of either purgatory, paradise, perhaps places parsiminous. ( I love alliteration in the summer!) In a world where E.L. James contiues to milk money out of a numb public of lazy readers by churning out yet another book in this ouevre of fan faction masquerading as new literature by releasing Grey. (For some reason, V.C. Andrews’ treatment of the Dollanganger family doesnt’ bother me so much. Althought I am VERY bothered by the fact that Petals on the Wind and Flowers in The Attic both have AR tests that students can take for points. And I do realize I used three dairy realated allusions in row.  I miss Blue Bell.) Anyway, yesterday, my family and I all went to see Jurassic World.

I am not a huge fan of Michael Crichton. (To be honest, his treatment of logic in his book “Sphere” literally made me hopping mad. Seriously, if you are creating your own reality, you should at least be consistent within that realty.This may be a clue for furture reference.)  But, my dad really wanted to see this as did my mother and it was Father’s Day and since my family rarely agrees on anything, it seemed like a good idea not to trot out my grievances with Mike.  I did have foreknowledge of the assumptions one would have to make prior to seeing the movie, so that was very helpful.

I enjoyed the movie  for the things it was. It was large and colorful and definitely nothing you could do on stage and on a small scale.   I thought it was very Greek in terms of entertainment. There was Hubris and Tragic Heroism all over the place. It did get a little Schmaltzy, so I guess you could say it covered the spectrum of theartre history.

But there was a moment of revelation for me. As you may recall, I had the fun and delightful expereince of a lockdown with a room full of adolescents who could not grasp the concept of danger.   In the movie (and I’m certain this isn’t a spoiler alert) there were several instances of characters who were quite casual literally in the face of scaly, drooly danger.

I think it is indicative of the state of our society as a whole.  For some reason,extreme peril doesn’t seem to compute. Or process. I know that I have the ability to distance myself from the realities of danger, but that’s because stupid crap happens to me all the time; I’m used to it.  I think in a world where combat and general violence is all too commonplace we are losing are ability to freak out.

Maybe that’s why we are so willing to five E. L. James a career.

And we’re back.

Who knows where they come from? Sometimes they just appear.

Published July 22, 2014 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I am often asked (ok, not often, I’m acting as if I have an actual writing career and there are throngs of people clamoring to hear/read my every word. I have to pretend from time to time so I don’t, you know, go crazy and take off on a self-narrated crime spree. Hmm, I wonder if referring to myself in the third person during said crime spree would be a good foundation for an insanity defense. Hmm, it probably would if I just didn’t rant about it in a a blog that will be on the interwebs.) where I get my ideas for characters.

It depends on the character.  The focal character in Circumstance ( I know, I know, it was supposed to be out by now, refer to any of the previous entries if you need to know how my life got so nuts.) came from a conversation I made up while watching a couple on a lunch date. The girl stumbled slightly and her date looked concerned, so I made up this whole story about how she had an eating disorder and he’s worried about her health. He is so concerned that he doesn’t tell her about the interesting girl he met the night before. The girl he met is the character Vanessa Riley. Once she was in place, the rest of the story kind of came together. The other characters in that story are amalgams of people I knew in Farmington, NM and  from people I knew when I was younger.

The Miller siblings have each had three different characters based on them and their relationship.  The work in progress has a character based on Actor Boy. That character’s siblings did actually just poof into being, but once the main character is in place the rest of it just sort of happens.

There is a person from my past who is part of every character I create. I don’t know why that is. It’s unintentional. The first complete work I wrote after my head blew up, a one-act play called Another Blind Man at the Gate, has several moments that are largely inspired by that relationship.

I am finishing up a novella under my pseudonym (I know, I know, it’s not any more or less finished than circumstance, but I need to get it published under the fake ID before the next step in my career slips out from under me.) The characters in that one started out in one direction, but somehow came around in a completely different way. I know that is the hallmark of good character; they have a life changing experience and they are the better for it.  The character who started out as an antagonist  has somehow turned out to mean something completely different to the heroine.

I’m not entirely sure how that happened. I do know where that character came from. It came from one person and wrapped up as another.

Meanwhile there is a whole cast of characters hanging out in my brain tapping their feet at me with varying degrees of patience while I finish all of this up.

Maybe THAT’s what I should say after the crime spree.