GUEST POST: Author Victoria King-Voreadi

Today I am taking a little break away from those crazy bohemians to present an author that I think you might enjoy. After all, who can resist reading about someone brave enough to tango with the grim reaper? I am impressed with Victoria’s dedication and determination to make another person’s dream come true. Interrogation Tango sounds like a great story to get lost in.  I hope you read it and let me know how you liked it.

 

Without further ado please let me present Victoria King-Volreadi!

 

“The Grim Reaper and Me”

A fable for the young at heart…

It may seem a morbid title for a guest blog (my apologies Caddy) but there is a method to my madness.

I’ve reached that golden age where one’s mentors begin slipping away.   Suddenly you realize you are in the midst of a great void that somehow you are expected to fill!  No one tells you that is what you are supposed to do – you simply feel it, a deep rooted sense of duty to art and memory.

You immediately feel small and inadequate.  The task seems huge and daunting.  How can you possibly do justice to the work!?

When Jovi Starc sent me her manuscript… she was in perfect health.  She felt blocked because she was too close to her material and was looking for a fresh perspective.  She was a vivacious 58 year-old who didn’t smoke and didn’t drink.  She ate right and did an hour of Thai Chi each morning.  How could either of us possibly imagine that one year later to the day she would be gone?

Just like that, from one moment to the next.

When her mother entreated me to pursue the realization of her daughter’s creative works I was initially so intimidated.  I was also touched and honored.  I pondered the rough material my friend had left behind, her incisive yet tender observations.  In the end I acquiesced and am gradually trying to develop her projects because it is simply a shame for them not to be shared.

Donald was a different story: Bi-polar with chronic asthma.  We had been pen-pals and collaborators for quite some time, but patience was not among his virtues.  He was losing stamina and his long standing health issues were getting the better of him.  He had claimed to be “dying” ever since I had first met him, but he kept coming out of the corner with his gloves up so I never really imagined him as ill.

The first time I heard about Interrogation Tango it was an 80 page script called “Firewater”.  Don was incredibly frustrated because he could “see” it in his head, but was getting no interest from producers.  I suggested he develop it into a novel, a way to help others see his vision.  He complained but didn’t argue.  He had twelve pages that with a lot of prodding became 50.  That was when (unbeknownst to me) Don started submitting it to agents.

When Peter Riva at International Transactions called Don’s bluff, of course he couldn’t admit he only had 50 pages so he simply yanked all the tag lines and scene directions out of the screen play and tacked that mess onto the first 50.

Luckily Peter had enough imagination to sense the potential behind the chaos.  I knew how important it was to Don so I agreed to try and edit it into something that made sense.  Don wrote brilliant dialogue but it was all his voice, somehow I had to develop and differentiate the characters. 

It took a couple of weeks just to clean it up enough where it was possible to follow who was saying what.  The story had a lot of gaps, some immense.  Just to complicate things a bit more Don had no phone and his only net access was during New York Public Library business hours so there was a constant 24hour time delay in all our correspondence.

When Don insisted we resubmit the rough draft I knew it still needed serious work, and I told Peter that in a side e-mail.  His response was, “Solid start, you’ve still got my interest so get to work on the re-write.”  Donald was devastated.  That was June 2010.  What I didn’t know was that this time he really was dying.  He had been diagnosed with colon cancer but had refused surgery and been given 6-18 months to live. 

Don was 74, and tired, He wrote me, “Puss, you are going to have to take it from here.”  I tried to encourage him to work on something else while I developed the Elser story with Peter’s guidance.  He dredged up an ancient manuscript he had started when he was still in advertising and actually seemed to be enjoying the departure from his obsession.

Don managed to hang on 26 months.  The last e-mail I sent him in the wee hours of August 20^th 2012 read, “Baby this is it, I just returned the final check of the manuscript, and tomorrow we go to into production.  We did it!” but he never saw it.  Donald Schwarz passed away alone in his apartment on August 20^th 2012, just a few weeks before the book was released.

So, here I sit surrounded by the cultural legacy of two very unique individuals.  Their manuscripts rest patiently on my shelf while I try to muster the strength and the time to change my role of guardian for that of the midwife, to deliver what they set out to do but were interrupted by death.  I can’t help but wonder if I am up to the challenge, and worthy of the responsibility.

 

 

Interrogation Tango is an anti-detective story, based on real events and people, about an assassin who drove the Gestapo crazy because they could not explain him away. A non-descript clock maker named Georg Elser thought it would be a good idea to stop the onset of WWII. He thought he might be able to do that if he could kill Hitler and all of his entourage and, because he was sincerely looking for an opportunity, he found one. He placed a bomb in a beer hall where the Fuhrer was scheduled to give a speech. It was a good honest try and it went wrong only by minutes. Elser was caught by a series of accidents and, when his family was threatened, he immediately confessed. There was only one problem: his confession was unacceptable. The police had assassin profiles then as they do now and he fit none of them. In fact, it was obvious to the police that he was not a criminal. Besides which, politics demanded that the attempt could not be perpetrated by one of Hitler's faithful, adoring citizens; it had to be a British conspiracy. However, there was no conspiracy and the cops were afraid to invent one, since in the event that there was a real conspiracy, an invented one would look like a cover-up. Interrogation Tango is the policemen's story: the detectives Elser destroyed and the Gestapo men he drove crazy, followed by chaos and a body count. Buy links are below:

 

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Chapters/Indigo

Iguana Books

 

 

Author Bio:

 

 Victoria lives near the city of Heraklion on the island of Crete in Greece with her husband and her two beautiful daughters. A freelance writer and translator in Greece since 1992 she has received two screenwriting grants from the EEU Media Programme for both original and commissioned feature scripts and has worked on local and foreign film and documentary productions. Victoria met her co-author Donald E. Schwarz in 1994 while visiting New York and the two immediately struck up a creative partnership. Social media links for Victoria: :Twitter Facebook Linked In



 

 



Those Crazy Bohemians (Le Chat Noir)

It's been awhile, but I am back to my "Crazy Bohemians" theme. Although I love to blog, writing novels and painting take up most of my time. It's amazing how quickly time passes before I realize that I've let my blog go!

Here are a couple of questions for you: Do you know where stand-up comedy got its start? How about the very first flickering in the brain about making movies? No? Well, I can tell you where. So could any of those crazy bohemians of nineteenth century Paris!

The answer would be Le Chat Noir. What does a "black cat" have to do with comedy and movies? Nothing - and yet everything. You see, Le Chat Noir is French for The Black Cat. Le Chat Noir was a cabaret in Montmartre that fanned the flames of creativity that had been lit earlier, taking plays, music, painting, and acting to new heights that, until then, people hadn't even dreamt about.

Emile Goudeau, a journalist in Paris, had a group of writers and artists that met at his home on the Left Bank. They were called Les Hydropathes ("those who are afraid of water"). Young men, they did indeed prefer cheap wine and beer-in great quantities-to plain old H2O. They were, however, outgrowing Goudeau's home. Rodolphe Salis, an artist who came from money, had acquired a two room building which he had turned into a cabaret. He knew Goudeau and persuaded him to move Les Hydropathes to his cabaret in Montmartre. Salis himself had been entertaining artists in his home prior to opening the cabaret.

On November 18, 1881. a torch lit procession crossed the River Seine from the Left Bank and made it's way to Le Chat Noir. A man dressed in full Swiss Guard regalia headed up the parade, carrying a halberd (battle ax and pike). Behind him marched a large group of very drunk, very loud young men; carrying wine and singing. This signaled the grand opening of Le Chat Noir.

When patrons avoided the darker room in the back, Salis casually made sure he mentioned within earshot of several artists that the back room was reserved for the truly cutting edge creative types. All of a sudden he had no problem trying to get people to gather in there! Le Chat Noir was an open stage most nights. Musicians, singers, poets, and writers would just get on their feet and present their current work. They were never paid. They were, however, critiqued by their peers, always loudly and sometimes harshly. However, they were also encouraged and nurtured, with many becoming great talents. Artists also brought their paintings for critique. Loud arguments about painting often followed.

The place was decorated with a hodge-podge of things, mostly giving it a Louis XIII feel. Salis himself was gifted in promotion. He started a newspaper Le Chat Noir and sold advertising in it. Writers also wrote stories for it. Some were very avant garde.

 Le Chat Noir Journal

He did everything he could to publicize his cabaret. Many accused him of making money off the artists who only received wine and absinthe as payment. One time he met patrons at the door only to announce his death! He then led a funeral procession through the streets, ending up back at Le Chat Noir.

Salis hired Steinlen to design posters and a sign for the cabaret. Salis had seen a black alley cat hanging around during the renovation and felt the raggedy feline made a good symbol for the wild nightlife that would be found at the place. One of the resulting posters by Steinlen remains one of the most well know images to come out of that era in Paris (of which Montmartre was, and is, part of). Some even said that when the cat's tail was shown in an upright position  on the Journal or in ads it symbolized a male in the "aroused position".

Théophile Steinlen's 1896 advertisement for a tour to other cities ("coming soon") of the Le Chat Noir's troupe of cabaret entertainers

Because of the open stage, and the dialog between a performer and the audience, stand-up comedy was born. Much of the comedy, and almost all of the songs, was politically radical and/or raunchy. Everyone who was anyone in the arts community was seen at this lively cabaret.

Soon the bourgeoisie and many gentry started coming to Le Chat Noir on a lark. Salis and cabaret singer Aristide Bruand became known for being loudly rude to their upper-class guests, banishing them into a dark corner if they came late. If they left during a performance? They were called out and loudly insulted! The songs didn't change, and many found themselves the subject of amusement or derision. Still, they came - because Le Chat Noir was the place to be seen. Salis moved the cabaret twice more while it was operating, to accommodate the growing throngs.

Shadow plays were created by using zinc to cut out characters and then shining light on them to reflect shadows on a white screen.  These shadow plays were insanely popular with all classes and soon scripts were written and music accompanied the plays. This, then, was the rough beginning of cinema.

In 1897, shortly after Salis' death, Le Chat Noir closed. When Picasso and others looked for it when they arrived for the Exposition in 1900, they were greatly disappointed to find out that it had ceased to exist. They had missed out on perhaps the most popular artist's cabaret to ever exist.

Ad for Le Chat Noir

Thank you for joining me today to learn more about those crazy bohemains. I promise I'll be back with more soon!

Fourth Book in The Gastien Series and New Painting Photos

Happy 2013 to all of you! I hope this year brings you closer to realizing all of your hopes and dreams, with many coming true. I have been so busy that I forgot to announce the release on my fourth book in "The Gastien Series" here on my blog!

Also, a lot of people had been asking me when I was going to get some of my painting up on a website.  Well, I haven't designed a speicific website fo them, but I did add tabs to the top of this page where you can view some of my paintings.  Just click on the various "Makin' Love to the Color" tabs to see my work in various styles.  I hope you enjoy them.

And, now, introducing the newest book in "The Gastien Series" :

Europe is full of dark memories. Giselle's love is forbidden; her chance to be a mother destroyed. She flees to America where she becomes the haute couture fashion designer to the wealthy, high-society Grand Dames of New York. After all, she had been mentored in Paris by the legendary Charles Worth himself.

Giselle's past remains cloaked in shadows, increasing her allure. Her heart is engaged by a man who comes to her only in secrecy, drawing her back to her mysterious past.

When her brother dies and his wife abandons their child, she takes on the care of her infant nephew. Giselle decides she has to stop and take stock of her life. She has been given her one chance to be a mother, but the cost will be the end of the few moments she can still have with her one true love.

Yet love is not easily destroyed for those who are strong enough to survive its pain.

Sign up for New Release Email: http://eepurl.com/rfjaX

Buy links:

http://tinyurl.com/aq6nnlxFor Kindle readers

http://tinyurl.com/bbbud5sFor NOOK readers

http://tinyurl.com/a6r4eyfFor kobo readers

http://tinyurl.com/a55svxeTo order paperback

 

Thank you. Next blog we will be getting back to Those Crazy Bohemains...unless something else starts tapping at my brain!

A New SIte That Matches You Up WIth Books!

I am so excited about this new site. It is the coolest book site ever. Here's how it works:

You go to www.bookmatchers.com and fill out your preferences for genre, types of characters, subplots/genres, etc and they show you which books are your best fits. Then you get a sample and buy links where you can go and read reviews, a bigger sample and purchase.

So far, they have over 550 books and 23 genres.

Seriously, you can't lose. It is free to use and easy, too!

While you're at it, give their facebook page a "like" if you would: http://www.facebook.com/BookMatchers

Their grand opening is this weekend, so any social media you can use to spread the word would be appreciated by Steve, the owner of the site.

If you tweet it, please use the hashtag #bookmatchers at the end of your tweets.

I don't have ownership in the site, but I am very excited about it's possibilities for both authors and readers. Will you please join me in helping Bookmatchers.com go viral?

Thank you and Happy Holidays!

Growing Gideon (My Love Is Alive)

Today I am taking a break from my "Those Crazy Bohemian" series of blogs. Most of you know that we are grandparents by love to the child next door: Gideon. Most of you know that we are childless by choice and have never regretted it.  And, most of you were probably gobsmacked to find out that - not only are we crazy about the baby next door - I am babysitting weekday afternoons.  Yeah, I know. This crazy bohemian has gone mainstream...at least in this area.

I had babysat on Fridays last year, along with some evenings. This past September I started babysitting for them "full time". Since Gideon does not come over until 11:30, I can write in the mornings, and I also write while he naps in the afternoon.

There is something holy about babydom. Jen, Gideon's mother, calls him magical.  I have to agree. He has changed me (and I would also include Dave) in many ways; all for the good. I have loved deeply before in my life. But this? This love is so powerful, so mind blowing that my eyes fill with tears just watching him take his next breath. Everything he does is magic. Every breath he takes I thank God for. If something happened to him, I would never again be the same.  Not even close.

Since I had no younger brothers or sisters, I never got to watch a child develop on a day by day basis. This spring I pushed him in a stroller and watched as he saw flowers for the first time. Just imagine that. What does the mind think, that very first time our eyes see the intricate beauty of flowers? This fall he was no less impressed with the dried leaves, pods, and grasses.  He could touch them for who knows how long...I stopped and let him touch and wonder, but couldn't stay for as long as he could probably just process. All of a sudden I, too, could see the magic in a single blade of dried prairie grass.

He not only walks now, he runs.  And walks backward. And twirls. The past two weeks he has been walking on tip-toes, and quite proud of it, thank you very much. Every single day he learns something new, becomes a little more advanced. Yesterday he realized that the large Lego blocks didn't just fall apart, he could take them apart piece by piece after Gamma put them together. His brain knew that somehow they go back together. He pressed them together, wrong parts. Any day now it will click. The round part goes into the part where there is emptiness.

He talks, too. No sentences or phrases, but words. More words all of the time. At fourteen months, he is a virtual learning machine. He no longer wants to sit on the floor and play with toys where you press levers. Now it is all about action, about walking, running, being chased, hiding. Balls are a big hit. Of course, when not feeling well (new teeth, cold, etc) he will revert back to less ambitious playing, but that's okay.  It is nice to go back six months every once in awhile, although I would much rather he felt good.

I am so honored to have this brand new person to the planet in my life. It is a privilege to care for him, protect him, and teach him.  I make sure to treat him with not only love, but dignity and respect. His soul will thrive in his body only if those who care for hm do so to the best of their abilities.

Yes, my love is alive. I have known love in many forms. The love I have for my husband is so deep, so timeless that I thought nothing could match it. Believing we have been together several lifetimes, I know we are always together. But this? This love for a child is just as profound, just as deep.

In short, Jen's right: it is magical.

Those Crazy Bohemians (Party at Au Lapin Agile!)

One of the two most popular places for artists to hang out during the whole bohemian era was a notorious, raucous  cabaret named Au Lapin Agile. Au Lapin Agile was located close to Place de Tertre in Montmartre and had been in existence since around 1850. It had always been a place where people gathered for sing-alongs. Sounds innocent enough, right?

The Au Lapin Agile attracted all kinds, however. Wagoneers with their knives stuck in the table tops as they drank, local villagers, artists, writers, pimps, down and outers, and anarchists all gathered there.In fact, the original name was Cabaret Das Assassins because a band of assassins broke in and killed the owners son.The songs sang were often either political and inflammatory or sexual in nature.

In 1875 an artist named Andre Gill painted a sign that hung outside the building showing a rabbit in a chef hat jumping out of a saucepan; a tribute to one of the dishes served there. People soon started calling the place Le Lapin a Gill, which meant "Gill's Rabbit". It evolved into Cabaret Au Lapin Agile (The Nimble Rabbit Cabaret). Most simply called it Au Lapin Agile or Lapin Agile. Once the name changed it became even more popular with artists, still drawing the same questionable crowd in addition to well off bourgeois slumming it for an evening of ribald fun.

There is conflicting information on who owned this cabaret for a time. Some information shows that a woman owned it for awhile (in fact during the time the sign was painted). I can't recall her name, but I believe she was a singer in another venue for awhile. Other references indicate that the artist who painted the sign (Andre Gill) actually owned it for a time. Whoever owned it did little to discourage riffraff from frequenting the place, but they were also very kind to artists.

Paintings were sometimes accepted in exchange for a meal. There was also an unspoken rule that at the end of the night any artist who had no money to eat would be given soup. Artists also had total freedom to become as drunk as they wished, fight, and pass out in a chair at one of the tables. They were not to be disturbed when they did so. Police were not to be called, either. In the morning they would simply wake up and stumble away.

Toward the end of the nineteenth century it was constantly packed with painters, writers, comedians, sculptors, poets, musicians and singers who all thrived on the energy and sharing of ideas there. Also, ownership had changed and a man named Frédé ran it. He had owned a previous cabaret and also pushed a wagon of goods around town. Because of that he owned a donkey, who would often ramble around the various tables in front of the cabaret, along with a flea bitten dog. Many nights Frédé played his guitar or cello as patrons sang.

In the early 1900's Picasso made Au Lapin Agile a favorite haunt of his.  He did a painting titled Au Lapin Agile in which he was represented as a harlequin and Frédé is shown playing the guitar. It belonged to the cabaret and Frédé sold the painting in 1912 for $20! In 1989 it was auctioned for $40.7 MILLION dollars.

Just think about how many drinks and dinners that would have bought all of those crazy bohemians! (More to come later on this era of artists)