DVC and a bagel makes 3

I don't know about you, but I'm really getting tired of The Da Vinci Code, and all of the items spawned by the craze. Today I was standing in line at a grocery store, and there it was; on the cover of a magazine on the rack: Lose weight with the Da Vinci Code Diet. Discover the secret hidden in the pages of DVC for destroying fat.

For my next novel, I'm researching the dark side of paganism and dark Pagan Gods. If anyone out there has any good information on it, I'd like to hear from you. I might even put you in the novel, if the info is good enough. Contact me at bob@bobavey.com

A few times a day, while I’m at my day job, I walk the stairs for exercise. There are six flights with the last two, leading to the roof, existing for maintenance purposes. Not long ago I was involved in one of my little treks when I came upon a pair of shoes sticking out of the darkness of the final flight. The lights aren’t used there unless it’s maintenance time. And the shoes were not on the ground, as if someone was standing in them, but were upright as though the owner was lying down. As I drew closer, I saw that legs were indeed attached to the shoes. For a brief moment, I was panic stricken, wondering if I’d come upon a dead body. But it was just a person, a lady, sitting on the floor in the dark with her back against the cinder block wall. I didn’t ask. I just said, hello, and turned around and walked quickly away. I don’t know what she was wearing, but I’d bet it didn’t look very good after sitting on that dirty cement floor.

On the road... continued

This was around Christmas time. I'll get caught up one of these days.


With it being a new year, I thought I’d shake things up a bit and shift the emphasis from the perils of yours truly and meander across a few recent casual observations.

I’ve noticed a significant increase in the shiny-Christmas-deer-ornament population in the last few years. Not to be outdone, the subdivision where I live jumped on the bandwagon and acquired several of these artificial animals and placed them strategically near the entrances to the sub. I suspect the homeowners association acquired the lot at a bargain price, perhaps picking them up at a garage sale, for the little sparkling darlings looked a little off from the start – at least the ones stationed near the entrance that I use most often.

Not being merely statues, these blinking beauties laid claim to a rather awkward form of movement: the doe, being the hungrier of the two, would raise her head then lower it to the ground where she would munch a couple bites of grass before starting the process over again; the buck’s head rotated in constant vigil. These were no run of the mill plastic venison. As time passed, however, the pair’s motor skills began to deteriorate. By the time Christmas was near, it was almost painful to watch the poor deer in their gallant maintenance of their routine. The doe’s head, now stuck in the lowered position, could no longer reach a height of more than a couple inches, though she kept trying, which gave her the appearance of sadness, while the buck, having developed a rare neural disorder, twitched spastically. It wasn’t pretty.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, disaster struck. I believe it was the day after Christmas when I drove by to see the buck lying on his back, his four legs sticking in the air. But that wasn’t all. Perhaps someone could no longer take the ugly bump and grind of the mechanical pair and decided to take matters into their own hands. Not only was the buck on his back, but he’d also been decapitated, his twitching head writhing beside him. This alone would have been hard to take, but the sight of the buck’s heartbroken mate, weeping by his side, was just too much.

Read chapter one of Twisted Perception at http://www.bobavey.com

By the way, you have permission to reprint, or use the contents of this blog, or any part thereof. The only restriction is the inclusion of my name and website with the material. Thanks,

Bob Avey

Hello, everyone. If you would like to register for a free copy of Twisted Perception, please go to my website at http://www.bobavey.com.

That doesn’t sound so bad you say? Okay I’ll quickly throw in the good stuff. During the two-week period that acted as the end of July, the air conditioner in my house decided to quit working on the hottest day in Oklahoma history and all the people who attend to such matters were already doing so and couldn’t get to my house for two days. Don’t ask. My mother decided to pay us a visit, and while she was here the a/c did its disappearing act, we went outside to sit on the porch swing, and the darned contraption fell, giving me and mom quite a scare, not to mention spilling hot coffee on my mom. I had to run to the drug store and get some burn medication. To top all that off, my wife caught some sort of viral bronchial infection and gave it to me and my poor mom.

Did I mention things got better? Since then, I’ve had several wonderful radio interviews with hosts that actually read my book and loved it, and numerous successful book signings at bookstores around Broken Arrow and Tulsa. Okay I’ll mention a couple. If you are ever in Broken Arrow and want to peruse the shelves of a good bookstore, go to The Book Place at 101st and Elm. While in Tulsa, you will want to visit Steve’s Books and Magazines, an absolutely wonderful bookstore that’s been in operation since the 1950’s.

Coming up in the near future, I will be conducting a free on-line tele-seminar on September 28 at 7:00 PM Central Time. If you want to learn about writing mysteries, or know of someone who does, go to http://www.bookgrapevine.com. On the right side of the screen, there will be a link with my name on it. Click on this and register. You will get directions on what to do. Everything is free.

On September 30 through October 2, I’ll be at the Great Manhattan Mystery Conclave in Manhattan Kansas; October 11 at 1:00 PM I’ll be doing a radio interview with KTFK 1340 AM in Sand Springs, OK; October 13 from 1:00 to 3:00 PM, I’ll be giving a program and signing books at the Newcastle Library in Newcastle, OK; and October 28 through 30, I’ll be at the Cape Fear Crime Festival in Wilmington, North Carolina.

Until next time…

I don't know

Hello, everyone. I had another weird dream that I will share with you. I know, but it makes me feel better. I was walking across a large grassy area when my father, who passed away last year, came running up to me, holding his hand to his face. He told me he had a tooth ache, and asked me if I would mind taking him to the dentist. The fact that my dad had false teeth for the last few years of his life didn’t seem to enter into the equation. I then realized that I was also supposed to pick my mother up from work. (She hasn’t worked in years, and she and my father were divorced when I was young. I told my dad that there was a dentist just down the street – there were no streets when the dream started, I was in a grassy area, like a woods. – and that he could actually see it from here if he would turn around. He seemed happy with this and started toward the dentist. I then found my car and began the trip to pick up my mother, but I was worried that my dad would not find the dentist, and I felt guilty about leaving him. I woke up sweating.

The Coweta American, the closest local newspaper even ran an article advertising the event. Sounds great, right? It was, but… I had to acquire a shelter, one of those easy pop-up tent thing-a-ma-gigs that the box says one person can erect, but in reality takes 5 strong men and 14 boy scouts to manage. But it was fun. I sat there for 12 hours both days in temperatures that hovered around 125 degrees inside the protected area of the tent. To top that, I used one of those folding canvass chairs which left me about eye-level with the folding table I had for a desk. Have you ever tried to sell a book looking like a sweating pygmy with a bad attitude? Let me tell you, it isn’t easy. But, hey, I ended up selling 14 books and making a lot of new friends. Many of the other booth attendants stopped by and chatted with me, giving me tips on how not to set up one of those easy pop-up tent thing-a-ma-gigs, and maybe using a taller chair. It was like being a circus carnie for the day.

Please visit my website at http://www.bobavey.com
or email me at bob@bobavey.com.

Free Twists

I give away one free autographed copy of Twisted Perception, my mystery novel, each quarter. Be sure to go to my website at http://www.bobavey.com and sign up. I think I saw a meteorite last night. I was driving to the post office and through the windshield of my car I saw something, which to me appeared about the size of a basketball, falling from the sky. It was greenish in color and irregular in shape.

Hello everyone. Well some of the weird luck I was having spilled over into this quarter. But it soon got better… much better. Anyway, such zany goings on deserve to be shared. On July the 15 and 16, I was invited to participate, by way of manning a booth featuring me and my book, in the Porter Peach Festival. This all came about in a rather interesting manner. Kenny Elliot, the hero of Twisted Perception, grew up in Porter, and the two original murders in the book took place there. I wasn’t sure how the town of Porter was going to take this. I thought about using a fictional small town, but in the end opted for Porter due to its logistics to Tulsa, and its small-town Oklahoma charm, and I decided to use the real name for, well realism. Anyway, I knew sooner or later someone living in Porter was going to run across the book, so I decided not to leave it to chance and sent a copy of the novel to Porter’s City Hall, and another to the local Lions Club. That should do it. And it did. As it turned out, I got a call from Roy Essary, president of the Lions Club in Porter and a very nice gentleman. He informed me that my copies had circulated around the elite of Porter, that being the mayor, the chief of police, all their wives and several police officers, and that they all loved the book and wanted me to come down to the Peach Festival in July.

Twisted Dreams

My dreams are always a little unusual, but I had one last night that I just have to share. Perhaps someone reading this blog might know something about dreams and interpret it for me. It goes like this:

I’m on this train, or trolley thing and I’m sitting in an old leather seat looking out a large rectangular window. A lady is coming up the isle collecting the fare for the ride, and I begin to get nervous. I don’t have much money with me and I’m not sure I can cover the cost. On top of that, I have no idea how I got on the train, or where I’m going. When the lady gets to me, I as her how much and she says, “That’ll be ninety-three cents.”
I think that is a very cheap fare, and I just happen to have a pocket full of change. However, each time I pull out a handful the coins are bent. She explains to me that she cannot accept bent coins and walks on saying that she will be back. In the meantime, someone delivers a lunch to me, a lunch provided by the train. I begin eating but the lady comes back for the fare. I again reach into my pocket, but his time I pull out a handful of beans which I spread across the lunch tray that folds down from the seat in front of me. The lady smiles and says that will be just fine. She then slices the beans in half. The inside of the beans looks unusual and I ask her what it is. “It’s fish,” she replies. With that I get up and go to the restroom to wash my hands because they are now covered with potato salad from my lunch. As I wash my hands, the alarm goes off and I wake up.

Back to the story:

June 24th found me at Springfield Missouri where I attended another delightful conference known as The Poison Tea Party. Did I mention I was driving a rental car because someone had rear-ended my three-week old Neon? I loved the tea party. Sleuth’s Ink, a Springfield Missouri writers’ group, hosted the party, doing a great job. The food was good, and the fellowship endearing. The hotel left a little to be desired. It smelled like it had seen better days, though it appeared clean, and a hoard of little league baseball players complete with coaches and parents invaded my floor.
One more thing and I’ll end this torture. Have you ever been to a movie or some other place where quiet is desired only to have someone’s cell phone ring, or whatever it is they do, and disturb things? Well, now I know what it feels like to be that person. During the highlight of the conference, a program given by Doctor Paul Spense, the Greene County Medical Examiner, my wife calls me. I received a lot of dirty looks, and one attendee even shouted, “Oh, turn it off!”
I quickly left the room, listening to the voice of my wife as she told me I had forgotten my suitcase. It was still lying on the bed in Oklahoma. I had a great time.
I want to thank everyone for signing up for this newsletter. Twisted Perception will be officially released on August 1, 2005.

http://www.bobavey.com

bob@bobavey.com

I Guess So

I walked out of the building where I work today and saw something special: A man and a woman, both over weight and dressed as if they didn't have a lot of money. There's a diabetes clinic upstairs, and I assumed that is where they'd been. As they walked outside and into the parking lot their arms touched then their hands found each others and they walked away hand in hand.

Driving to work this morning, I saw a car, a faded red Chrysler and I noticed that one of the passengers, a boy about 10 years old, was figting something like a curtain hanging from the interior. I realized it was the headliner that had come partly undone. A bumper sticker on the car read: If you're not appalled, you havn't been paying attention. I was appalled, though not at what the sticker was meant to refer to; some political thing.

Back to my story:

On the way home, the nice lady and I were once again talking while she was driving. At one point, she looked in the rearview mirror and said, “oh my,” before pulling over to the side of the road to let the police car go by. It would have been good had he done this, but he didn’t. Instead he came to the window and asked to see the nice lady’s driver’s license, insurance, and registration papers. Luckily she produced the first two, but not the last. The van’s lack of a real license plate, with a paper one being taped to the back window, compounded the issue. I tried to explain that, in Oklahoma, it isn’t a requirement to carry registration papers, and that a paper tag is what happens when one buys a new car there. Then the officer asked who we were and what we were doing. He stated that he’d been following us for three miles, trying to get our attention. Apparently, engaged in our conversation, not only had we been exceeding the speed limit, we didn’t hear the siren and did not see the flashing lights of the police car on our tail.
The police officer talked on his radio for a moment then said, “I had several police cars ready to intercept you, had you not stopped when you did.”
They’d even placed nail strips on the road to stop us in case we busted through the roadblock. So for a few minutes, I was a wanted fugitive on the run from the law. Thankfully we were able to clear it all up, save for a speeding ticket.

Bob

http://www.bobavey.com

Interesting Stuff

Just to catch up:

Upon finding out that I’d written a novel, one of my friends in the office where I work my daytime job once commented, “I don’t know how you do it. I have trouble knowing what to write on birthday cards when they come around.”
I just sort of smiled and nodded. The truth is: I’ve always had the same problem. Without a plot, a character, and a setting, I’m lost.
For lack of a better idea, we’ll just launch into life on the road so far. With the book not being officially released until August, I’ve been hitting various writing conferences across the region, that being the Mid-West. The tour began April 29 in Oklahoma City with the Oklahoma Writers’ Federation Conference, more commonly known as OWFI around these parts. My wonderful wife, Kathi, joined me for that event, and we met up with some writer friends, Charles Sasser and his delightful son, Michael. Together we enjoyed good restaurants and lively conversation, as well as taking in the conference. Nothing crazy comes to mind, so I guess it was a good trip.
After that on May 26, came Mayhem in the Midlands, a well organized, beneficial, and entertaining conference sponsored by the Omaha Public Library Foundation. Held in downtown Omaha with plenty of interesting sites to see, the conference energized my spirits, and left with me with a feeling of having experienced something worthwhile. However, just prior to and just after this event is where all the fun began.

Now back to the story:

When I got to her house, my fellow writer showed me the minivan she’d just purchased for the trip, a good, though slightly used Ford. She had a lot of luggage, so we took the van and left my brand new Neon in her driveway. Since I was sworn to secrecy, I cannot divulge the name of my cohort, so we’ll call her, the nice lady. On the way up, we began to talk, and the nice lady told me something I feel compelled to share. It went like this: “My husband is in the last stages of Alzheimer’s.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, it’s sad. But you know sometimes he says to me, ‘Everything will be all right when my wife gets here.’” She paused then continued, “That would make most people sad, but not me because I know he’s remembering that skinny twenty-two year old he married, and not the old hag I see in the mirror each morning. And it’s kind of nice that he lives there in that special place we made together years ago.”That brought tears to my eyes. If you’re out there reading this, nice lady, I saw your grandson in that movie. He’s quite the cyclist.

Twisted Subjects

Hello, bloggers. Look, mom, I'm blogging.
Since I don't know what I'm doing, I'll just post some of my old newsletter content.

Several months ago, I was getting ready to go to a writers' conference when my life began to go haywire and it went something like this: My old stockade fence that I'd been patching up for two years decided it'd had enough and simply fell completely down, which, in retrospect was probably for the best (tell that to my pocket book) since some of the boards had already given up the ghost. In short the place was beginning to look like bad rental property in a good neighborhood. The guy the fence company sent out to estimate the damage had dollar signs in his eyes. I asked him where he got contact lenses like that, imprinted with such a monetary symbol, but he only laughed and scribbled harder on his note pad.

Not to be outdone, my old car, which held the record for high mileage, though I never bothered reporting it to the Guinness Book, invented a new, mechanically produced noise accompanied by a strange vibration which I'm sure would have induced weight loss, had I been able to endure it. It was time to buy a new one. Locating a salesman, who assured me I was getting the best deal turned out to be relatively easy, though, figuring I could get more for the old car by selling it myself, I refused the salesman's offer for a trade-in and parked the old buggy on the street. That turned out to be a mistake. The next day, while I was at work, someone smashed into the old relic, knocking off the side mirror and leaving a huge dent in the driver's side door. Whoever perpetuated the deed didn't stick around, a hit and run so to speak, and of course no one saw or heard anything.

I parked the now beat-beyond-recognition old Geo in the driveway and headed for Stillwater, OK, where I was to meet a fellow writer who would share the ride to Omaha.

More to come.

I'll be in the Azalea Festival Parade in Muskogee, Oklahom this weekend, April 8, and later I'll be signing books at the Arts and Crafts Show in the Muskogee Civic Center.

http://www.bobavey.com