I’m taking a break from blogging for a bit. Here are the reasons.
I’m working on a fully online version of MTB1370, Medication Math for Health Care. I promised to have it ready for the January term, which is a challenging deadline.
Second, I want to get the first draft of my current novel complete. Rather than writing about writing, I need to be working on the project.
I’ll post to Twitter, Facebook, and send out emails when I resume the blog.
Gregg
By the end of the first chapter of The Other Side of Silence—maybe by the end of the first page—Pronzini traps the reader in a sympathetic bond with Rick Fallon, a corporate security officer with a desert full of personal baggage. Pronzini tells his story through the development of his characters, some of them predictable, like the thug Bobby J, most of them a surprise, like the twist at the end.
Fallon and his ex-wife disagree on the value of silence. He craves it. She prefers crowded rooms and bright lights. After the death of their son and the ensuing divorce, Fallon retreats to the Death Valley in search of inner peace, quiet, and purpose.
His discovery of the near-dead body of Casey Dunbar interrupts his solitary wanderings. She is without resources, has been used and abused, and has given up her search for her son, Kevin, a victim of parental kidnapping. A picture of Kevin, reminds him of his own lost little boy, and the image moves him to help reunite this mother and child. Against her will, he rescues her and injects himself into her problems.
The search isn’t as straightforward Fallon anticipates. Casey withholds key information, and her ex-husband has hidden himself and the boy well. Fallon blurs the edges of the law as he bullies information from reluctant sources, tangles with Bobby J, and follows the curving, rutted trail leading to the child.
Pronzini deftly describes the desert, bringing life and beauty to its shifting shadows and the sun-baked terrain. On the other side of the desert’s silence is Las Vegas. There he captures the less savory avenues, avoiding the bright lights of the Vegas Strip in favor of the darker side.
The Other Side of Silence is a satisfying and entertaining page-turner.
ISBN 13 978-0-8027-1713-0
Walker & Company
October 2008
I’m all wrapped up in the US Open Tennis Tournament. It serves as a reminder that no matter how good you are, someone better is waiting in the wings to take your place. None of us is indispensable, except maybe to our families—and sometimes I’m not so sure about that.
S&J
I remember the first time a student told me I was cute. She caught a glimpse of Steve and I walking across a shopping center parking lot hand-in-hand. That got me to wondering at what point in time we become cute again. I know that I refer to some senior citizens as cute, never thinking it might be less than a compliment—though I don’t share my thoughts with them.
S&J
Just this week another student informed me I’m perky. While it’s probably true, I told her that I was pathologically perky. Son, Benjamin, would agree. Something about getting up in the morning and spewing forth a stream of conversation, which may or may not include singing little ditties.
S&J
My friend Vicki Landis was featured in an art show yesterday at Artists’ Haven, which is located in Ft. Lauderdale on Oakland Park Blvd., east of Federal Highway. Check out her website at http://landisdesignresource.com/. Vicki is neither cute nor perky, but she is beautiful, charming, energetic, and supremely talented.
GEB
The end of August, and it’s 96 degrees outside. I’m counting the days to cooler weather. But it is hurricane season. Thankfully, there’s not a lot of action in the Atlantic. Today, the National Hurricane Center’s map shows only one unlikely area of concern. It’s on my mind. After Wilma, we replaced our missing front yard tree with a Bulnesia. Last week we had the roving-tree-trimmers hollow it out in an attempt to save it from harm, should there be a storm. It’s got flowers now—finally. I don’t want to find it sticking out of the neighbor’s roof.
S&J
Classes started last Monday at Broward College. My associate dean’s philosophy is to bring repeating students back into the program at the first opportunity after they’ve met the requirements. I don’t disagree. People put their lives on hold to attend nursing school. It’s better for them to attend and succeed or realize the program isn’t the best choice for them. I hate to see students waiting, treading water and drowning in uncertainty about their choices. I’m still a bit shocked at the size of my class. There are an excess of 150 students for the lecture portion. Thankfully, the clinical class is a more manageable 115. (Arggghh. I can’t quite believe I said that.)
S&J
My husband and I have watched much of the television coverage of Senator Kennedy’s memorial and funeral. Kennedy had the means to touch many lives and the ability to make a difference. I admit my first thought when I heard that he had died was of his past difficulties. Steve said, “He was a great man.” My response was that he was a great senator. After listening to many of the comments about Kennedy’s deeds, I’m forced to admit, I was harsh. His actions in their totality speak for themselves. If we as less public figures are allowed to live down our indiscretions or wrongful acts, perhaps we should extend the same privilege to his memory.
S&J
GEB
Yesterday Steve and I celebrated our 20th Wedding Anniversary by having an official date. It was actually my idea, but he went along with it in his usual good-natured way. We dressed up; he in a sport coat, me in one of my few dresses, and went to Runyon’s Restaurant of Coral Springs (http://www.runyonsofcoralsprings.com/ ). As it happens, they’re celebrating their 25th Anniversary, which caused some reflection on our parts about how long we’ve been here and how long Coral Springs has been a city of enough significance to support a fine restaurant. The dinner was delicious, topped off with a complimentary slice of to-die-for—or from—ice cream cake. The service was excellent. The entertainment was adequate. And the company superb.
S&J
Another term has ended at Broward College. Several senior students, in an effort to show recognition and appreciation, wrapped my Mini in cellophane. Seemed like an odd thing for them to do at the time, though I understand they originally planned the prank for April Fool’s Day. The attached sign was the kicker that made it all feel good. Oh, and they unwrapped it, as well.
S&J
I’ve signed up for Facebook again. Some months ago when I originally created an account, my son objected, saying there were some places he didn’t want his mother to be. Okay. I gave him that, and discontinued the account. I’m there again, at his invitation this time. “Mom, Facebook is mainstream now.” He’s my only current friend on the service. Won’t you sign up and join me? He’s also got me involved in playing the game FarmVille. I’m not sure what the point of the whole thing is, but I’m having some fun with it.
S&J
GEB
I got a new Dell! My son, Benjamin, wanted me to consider a MAC. I gave it some thought, but didn’t want to tackle the software issues—yeah I know there is Office for MAC.
My Dell is a Studio XPS 1640 with a 2.93 GHz processor. Going with Benjamin’s advice, I opted to put my money in the processor, and I’m happy with that decision. I’m not a gamer (remember old, white, fluffy), but I do like to multi-task at my laptop, open many windows, and do something else (anything else) while another program installs, loads, runs, or just sits there waiting for hell to freeze over. Given my new processor speed, hell needs to freeze over very fast to beat it.
An interesting sidebar is I went to Best Buy first and tracked down their fastest laptop, Windows variety. Talked to the salesperson—read that salesboy—and took in his learned advice. His best, fastest model was a 2.0 GHz! “Nothing faster,” he said. I spoke to Benjamin, left the store, and ordered online from Dell.
It’s exciting to get a new computer. Even if the buyer doesn’t opt for fancy, the new machine is invariably many steps up from the previous one. Then there is the reality of installing the software, finding out that some programs are outdated and won’t run on the new or updated operating system, and discovering that the just-install-and-convert simple upgrades don’t work so well. Then the pain of dealing with the technical support people with heavy accents and canned let-me-look-up-your-problem answers.
One such encounter, this one with Dell, required that I give them the service tag number from the bottom of the unit. I knew in advance that the number would be required. (Please remember the old, white, and fluffy part, now.) I turned over the laptop, found the little tag, and discovered I couldn’t read the tiny, lightly printed, numbers and letters. I finally discerned them with the aid of a flashlight and magnifying glass! Seems to be the number should be on the keyboard side, next to the Windows Vista logo, and in a font as legible as the Vista trademark.
By the way, the Dell tech was helpful and gave me accurate information, unlike the Quicken man that walked me through an elaborate series of steps. After I disconnected from my Chat with Quicken, the problem still existed and I had to figure out how to resolve it myself. A long, tedious process. But, it works.
GEB
I copied the following from Twitter. I’m mostly a lurker, seeing what my son and his techy friends chat about. It’s in a different language. “May turn benj.mn into an url shortener this weekend.” “When’s Tweetie going to integrate with Pikchur?” “Think i am done trying to do work-arounds for a mu wordpress setup on IIS. After vaca I will set up a *nix server and do it the real way.” “Been using the latest Chrome build for OS X… kinda rough around the edges but, it doesn’t beachball 50% of the time like Safari.” Go figure what they are talking about.
S&J
The people across the street have a new puppy. She’s a 16-week-old Cocker-Cavalier mix named Lucy. My plan is to invite her over to play the next time my grandpuppy girl, Roxy, visits. My almost-seven-year-old Cavalier, Rex, is more likely to offer to eat them than to play. Max, his litter mate, might cooperate for a minute, but no more than that. Middle-aged dogs or middle-aged men, they’re not much different in my opinion.
S&J
I’m reading my way through the J.D. Robb in Death series. J.D. Robb is a pen name used by Nora Roberts for her detective novels. The setting is NYC in the late 2050’s. The computers, cars, food, styles, weapons, and communication devices are futuristic. The crimes, mostly murder, are the same as depicted in present-day novels. As with many romance writers venturing into mystery, her point-of-view shifts, relationships, and sexual tension are all right out of the romance genre. Interesting reading, but I think you gotta be a girl to like it.
S&J
I’m chairing a couple of search committees for new faculty at BC. As a public institution, there is always concern about diversity among the candidates, among current employees, and on the search committee itself. I reviewed the committee membership list and suggested another name to my associate dean, receiving the diversity speech in response. I said that the person I suggested fit the category of old, white, and fluffy. The associate dean said that quota was already filled. By me! LOL.
S&J
GEB
One of my biggest reading delights is the Plum series written by Janet Evanovich. When it was recommended to me a few years back, I quickly got hooked and read the first nine books within as many days. Quick reads. Very funny.
The main character, Stephanie Plum, is a fugitive apprehension agent (aka bounty hunter) for her cousin Vinny’s bonding agency. While she is intuitive, sometimes clever, and often brave beyond reason, she puts herself in positions where unusual, strange, and sometimes dangerous things happen to her. Many of the circumstances are laughing-out-loud funny.
Evanovich started out as a romance writer. I’ve read some of her earlier books, too. With the romantic theme, there is always a good dose of humor. The Plum series is a cut above the straight romance novels, but there is romance as well, much of it as humorous as Plum’s bounty hunting expeditions.
The problem is Evanovich doesn’t publish new books as often as I would like. To that end, I’m rereading the series, entertaining myself once again with the early antics of Stephanie Plum and her friends, enemies, relatives, and lovers. The plots are not especially memorable. The humor is priceless.
GEB
I’ve decided that clipping coupons provides an education into our culture—as well as into the level of desperation of some companies. The buy two boxes of cereal get one free ones are a bit annoying. I have small kitchen with limited cabinet space.
I clip a few coupons, and even remember to use them on occasion. The quantity dependent ones usually stay in the flyer, even though they do play to my desire to get something FREE. Yeah, right!
S&J
I’ve also noted unusual pairings. For example, buy Iams Dog Food and get a roll of Bounty FREE. I could understand it better if the coupon was for Puppy Chow.
S&J
Then there is the usual assortment of feminine hygiene and cosmetic coupons, including ones for Monostat and similar products. One thing I like is the cosmetic coupons are good for several months, giving me a way to fill the slots in my coupon file until it’s time to throw them out.
S&J
The restaurant offerings are good sometimes. Several of the restaurants we frequent have a discount every now and then. I just need to remember to take the coupon and then to use it.
S&J
The Choose your Pleasure ad by durex® surprised me this morning. The purchaser can save $2.00 on any durex® item. Darn, I didn’t even know that there was such a thing as durex® condoms, which, by the way, are made of innovative materials . . . Coupons for condoms. I’m not shocked. I am not shocked. I am not shocked.
GEB
Review by Gregg E. Brickman
In Below Zero, C.J. Box tantalizes the reader with a chilling chase across Wyoming, providing glimpses of wildlife and a flavor of Western geography in the telling.
Game Warden Joe Pickett is working out his banishment to remote Baggs, Wyoming, The-Place-Where-Game-Wardens-Are-Sent-to-Die. After a dicey case, the governor stepped in and sent him to Baggs to keep him out of the public eye. Pickett doesn’t hold the assignment against the governor, though he is plotting his return to his family and civilization. And he’s keeping himself occupied trying to take the Mad Archer—who has been shooting arrows into helpless animals—out of circulation. Pickett doesn’t hesitate to head home when his wife calls saying their daughter received a text message from a girl the family believed dead.
The girl has the facts to convince the Pickett family she’s telling the truth, relating personal information that only she would know. Though cryptic telephone dialogue, it’s obvious she is in the company of killers and wants help, but Pickett lacks the resources to trace the cell phone the girl is using. He contacts a friend at the FBI. Soon the agent in charge, with whom Pickett shares long standing animosity, takes over the case. Concerned that the FBI won’t protect the girl again, Pickett pulls his friend, fugitive Nate Romanowski, into the fray and increases his odds of finding her.
Below Zero is the ninth novel in Box’s Joe Pickett series. Box weaves enough back story in to bring new Box readers up to date. Within pages, the reader can identify with the likable and human protagonist who rescues wounded animals, tracks down criminals, aggravates the FBI, and befriends the homeless and helpless.
Below Zero is an excellent read.
ISBN 978-0-399-15575-8
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