tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53469730250771336312012-09-04T22:27:31.154-04:00Welcome to LC Cooper's blogsiteHere, you will find a collection of my titles, posts, and (eventually) a focus on the evolution of publishing.LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-90994059345938063132012-09-03T22:47:00.000-04:002012-09-03T22:47:51.482-04:002012-09-03T22:47:51.482-04:00Man Cave, Chapter 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK79"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK80"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Man Cave</span></b></span></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;">- Chapter 2</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;">by</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;">LC Cooper</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;">Copyright LC Cooper, April 01, 2012</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;">Published by LC Cooper at Smashwords</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;">Smashwords Edition, License Notes</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;">This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;">This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK7"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK8"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK20"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK21"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;">* * * * *</span></span></span></a></div>
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK21;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Chapter 2<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">T</span></b>he roadside sign announced, </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Welcome to Manton</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">pop. 352 (and growing)</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Where men come to be men</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">On the corner opposite the sign was one of those old-time gas stations – the kind with the manual gas pumps and a couple of seated codgers playing chess inside the dusty service bay.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Hey, that's cool," I remarked, pointing and politely waving as a guy, who had an oil rag hanging out of a back pocket of his bib overalls, leaned against the front-door's frame while he read what looked like a magazine.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"That reminds me," said Eric as he tapped the clear plastic of the truck's fuel gauge, "don't let me forget to stop here for a fill-up when we leave next week. Did you notice that the next closest gas station was nearly fifty miles away?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Yeah, I saw it at the base of the mountain range. You can bet I'll be sure to remind you as we leave. I don't think it would be fair of me to steer while you push your empty truck those fifty miles." That response got me a playful slap on my arm. I was glad to see Eric being playful again.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">We drove another ten miles without seeing any signs of life. "Man, this place is in the sticks, isn't it?" I asked.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"I suppose. When I spoke with Sammy, the owner, he said he built the place to be remote and secluded."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"What else can you tell me?" I eagerly asked.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"As you read on the sign back there, this is a man's town. We won't really be camping as much as just hanging out with a bunch of guys, all doing guy things like fishing, watching sports, drinking, playing video games, and whatever else we want to do. It's like one gigantic man cave," Eric said, fondly patting his truck's dashboard. "Oh, crap," he shouted as he yanked the steering wheel hard left. "Nearly missed the turn," he muttered.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"I saw a busted-up sign just before the turn, but I thought it was junk."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Yeah, I saw it, too, but as shot-up as it was, I didn't pay it any attention." Eric had a puzzled look on his face.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"What's wrong?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Oh, nothing, I guess. Security must be pretty tight out here, which is a good thing."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Why do you say that?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Those spikes that shred tires, like the kind you see at the gates of car-rental agencies, are all along this road."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Manton's townsfolk must have had problems with locals stealing trucks and boats," I surmised.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Makes sense … oh, there it is!" Eric exclaimed.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">From a thickly-matted roadside cluster of trees, a well-manicured meadow emerged. Within its center sat a rustic cabin. The exterior was a combination of aged, gray timber and flat sandstones beneath a gabled roof. The broad wrap-around porch could easily accommodate dozens of guests for evening cookouts. When the weather turned ugly, I bet it was the place to be to hang out and b.s. about sports. Rocking chairs rested against the cabin's walls, inviting visitors to relax and enjoy the deck. A flagstone walkway connected the cabin to the crowded parking lot.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Eric pulled into one of the three remaining empty parking spots. "Hear that?" Eric exclaimed, "Nothing but the sounds of men being men."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Rolling our windows down, and with the wind blowing toward us, loud laughter and music greeted us. I felt exhilarated, and a grin spread across my face. This was the perfect escape.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"C'mon, grab your coat. We need to go get registered," Eric cheerily said as he rolled up his window, jumped out of the cab, and locked and closed his door. The breeze was chilled by the nearby lake, an effect that had Eric scrambling to get inside his Tartan wool jacket.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">I put mine on, too. We both grimaced and snorted at the same time as we recalled all the teasing we'd received over the years because we wore identical green Tartan jackets. I never cared; our coats symbolized our close friendship. Although comfortable around each other, I could tell by the expression on Eric's face that it probably wasn't the best idea to plow into a testosterone-laden weekend wearing matching ensembles. I shuddered, now wishing I brought my denim jacket instead.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Relieved to have made it to the front porch uncontested, as soon as we pushed open the creaky, solid oak door, we rushed inside the cabin and tore off our jackets, tucking them under our arms. I raised a judgmental eyebrow when Eric went one step further and turned his wool coat inside out.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">No one was in the lobby, though we heard male voices coming from other rooms in the building. Eric said he wasn't surprised as check-in wasn't until 3:00 p.m., and we were early. Ready to get the week of fun and relaxation started, we anxiously paced the room and frequently drummed our fingers on the massive countertop, which we assumed was the registration desk. Still, however, our signs of impatience remained unanswered. Bored after only a few minutes of this regimen, we forced ourselves to slow down and absorbed the cabin's ambiance – look at the pictures and wall hangings, stare out the windows, walk in and out the front door, rock in the chairs outside – whatever we could think of to kill more time before check-in. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">All out of fresh ideas, Eric rested his elbows on a windowsill and peered out the window in search of distractions. I plopped down into one of the two rocking chairs in the cabin and warmed my hands in front of the lobby's fireplace.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Come here," he excitedly said. "You should see how clear and blue the lake's water is! I bet you can see fish twenty feet down."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">With a huff, I pushed my road-weary body out of the comfortable chair and ambled to an adjacent window. I said, "It must be pretty cold out on the lake today. I only see one empty fishing boat out there."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Yeah," replied Eric, "but do you see all the guys fishing from the banks? It looks like the bank off to your left is pretty popular. Maybe we can hit it at dusk."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Sounds great. Gotta admit, though, I didn't pack for really cold weather. I don't want to get caught out next to the lake after dark. We'll freeze our nuts off."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Wait a minute – you still have yours? I thought you had to give yours up as part of the divorce settlement," Eric joked.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Nope," I deadpanned, "Beth removed them within days of our wedding. So, Natasha let you keep yours?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Naw, after losing my job, I only get to visit them on the weekend."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">We sounded like nervous and giddy frat pledges. It was sickening. Thankfully, the creaking front door distracted us from another round of lame insults.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Oh! Hello. Heh, I wasn't expecting new guests for at least another half hour." The man rushed over to where we stood and stuck out his hand. "I'm Sammy Faulkner, the owner and …" He stopped talking when he realized we were staring at his outstretched hand. It was soaked with a mixture of blood and a whitish chemical. Without realizing I had done so, I stuffed my hands into my jeans' front pockets. Eric stopped his approach and moved to stand slightly behind me.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Oops, sorry, boys. Just got in from dressing a deer. I thought I'd have time to get cleaned up before checking you two in. I guess we'll save the handshakes until I get this mess cleaned off me, eh?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">We both mumbled in agreement, barely concealing our disgust.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Don't let my current condition fool you boys. I run a top-notch operation. As you can hear, Manton is filled with nothing but guys having a great time. I'm certain you'll fit in perfectly and quickly. Why, I'm willing to bet that before the night is over, you won't even remember this awkward moment." Sammy flashed a good-old-boy smile, gave us a wink, and backed out the door. As he walked along the front porch, he peered into the window and politely hollered, "Hang tight, gents. After washing up, I'll be right back to check you in. Sorry for the weird introduction, but welcome to Manton – my own little man cave."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Eric and I exchanged startled glances, but then realized just about every guy on the planet was tossing around the "man cave" phrase. It was a bit chilling, though, going from Eric's slobby version to Sammy's lavish one.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">In response to Sammy's comment, Eric and I nodded and meekly waved our agreement. We weren't thrilled with standing around any longer in the empty lobby after spending nearly a day on the road, but we didn't have any real reason to gripe. We were jittery and excited to get on with our relaxing vacation in Manton.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">I strolled back to the window where Eric and I first watched the shore-side fishermen. The empty boat out beyond them on the lake sure did look inviting. "First thing in the morning, I want to get on that boat and get fishing," I giddily said.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"What?" Eric somewhat hollered, his voice slightly muffled. "I didn't hear you. What'd you say?" he asked as he backed out of a closet-sized room that was down a hallway. He had a strange, distant look on his face as he returned to the lobby.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Geez, Eric, I turn my back on you for an instant, and you wander off like some kid looking for trouble."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Sue me – I'm curious." He paused and flipped his hand over his shoulder, motioning toward the open doorway he just left. "You've gotta see what's in there. Creeped me out at first."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"What are you rambling about?" Curious to see anything that made Eric nervous, I was quick to breeze by him and through that doorway.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Crap!" I exclaimed. "Is this some kind of weird joke?" I bent down to get a better look while Eric flipped on the light switch behind me. "It's like they were the models for one of those …"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"… Dogs Playing Poker paintings," Eric wistfully added, also bending down to get a better look. "Wow, they're so lifelike."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Apprehensive, but stupidly curious, I tentatively reached out my hand, as if one of the dogs would come to life and snap at me.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Both of us nearly jumped out of our skins when a booming voice cackled, "Fooled you, did they?" Sammy, so it appeared, had snuck into the lobby via a back door. His actions and our reactions told me we weren't the first guests he'd startled with this setup.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Don't worry, boys, they won't bite," he chuckled while rummaging through a short stack of papers on his desk.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Eric was still entranced. Once he opened his mouth to speak, I understood why. "They're so real – so lifelike," he admiringly said. "Adam and I have several trophies in our homes, but I can't say I've ever seen taxidermy as lifelike as this."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Thanks, I suppose," Sammy replied with an impish grin, "but technically, it's not taxidermy. To be able to produce scenes like the dogs playing cards, a taxidermy license is the first of many, many required certifications and specialized … well, let's just call them skills." He studied our confused expressions before adding, "Mine is a process far better and longer-lasting than taxidermy." He paused for effect and drew in a deep breath. "It's called plastination."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Eric and I wrinkled our brows and glanced at each other. I saw in his face that he was beginning to question his decision to come here.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Sammy seemed to read Eric's expression as well because he loudly blurted, "Hey, what's say we get you boys checked in and on your way. No point in you wasting your week listening to me rattle on about my former career. If you want to know how I created that scene," he said, pointing down the hall in the direction of the dog display, "I'd be glad to talk with you about it over a couple of beers."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"I'll pass, but thanks. The dogs Creeped me out. Not sure I want to know the details," I grumbled, rubbing my still-queasy stomach. "You got any Pepto behind the counter?" I asked, hoping to change the subject away from his freaky dog scene.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Sammy reached under the countertop, rummaged around for a moment, then pulled out a small packet labeled <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">antacid</i>. "This should do the trick," Sammy said as he gently tossed the packet to land in front of me. He explained away his perfect strike with, "During the winters, when everything's frozen over, I have a lot of down time. As you can see, I spend a bunch of it flicking cards into a hat."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">It was obvious Eric was getting impatient because he interrupted by saying, "What do we need to do to check in? I saw that empty boat out on the lake, and I'd like to get fishing before dusk."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Sammy's reply of, "It's a new fishing boat – good choice. You know, now that you mention it, I bet you two will look great out there," was a bit unnerving, as was his thin-lipped grin.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Even though I elbowed Eric, he didn't catch any of Sammy's response because he was too busy completing the stack of papers Sammy handed him. I could tell Eric was still thinking about the dog display though. While he signed and initialed page after page, he said, "Sammy, I've got to hire you to build me something like that with my next deer. can you handle it?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">I startled when Sammy replied with, "Not a problem for me. I'm quite capable of making displays using … large figures." He and I exchanged a glance, from which I had an eerie thought. He smugly grinned when we again made eye contact.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Sammy noticed my nervousness and dismissed it with a whispered, "Gotcha!" and then he and Eric shared a laugh at my expense. "Don't worry, son," Sammy smirked, "you're too puny. I'd have to throw you back and wait until you got bigger." Again, Sammy and Eric chuckled, but I, by then, was fuming.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Eric patted me condescendingly on the shoulder and said, "Take it easy on the little guy, Sammy. Remember? I told you this trip is his fiftieth-birthday present, and that it's been a tough year for him."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Aw, I was just funnin' you there, Adam," Sammy said with a broad grin smeared across his face. He pulled two large metal boxes from beneath the counter and set them loudly atop the countertop. "Enough of this jawing." He rattled the two small metal cases while saying, "I know this is gonna sound strange, but You'll need to drop all your personal effects in here – wallet, car keys, and particularly any weapons."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Now it was Eric's turn to act nervous. "What's this all about?" He jammed his hands into his pants' front pockets, blocking their contents from escaping. He said, "I don't see any reason …"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Theft, Eric – I have to ask all of my guests to do this because we've been experiencing more than our fair share of break-ins lately. Seems some locals watch for when guests leave their cabins and then break in and ransack the place. The sheriff and I haven't caught anyone yet, but it's only a matter of time. As a precaution, then, I insist on gathering up all the personal stuff so you are guaranteed to get every bit of it back when you leave. Unhappy guests don't come back, and quite a bit of my business comes from repeat customers."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Sammy shifted his gut so it rested against the counter's edge. "See, it's like this - after you drop your stuff into these boxes, I store them in the walk-in safe behind me." He pointed to a large, dark cavern at the end of the hall behind where he stood. "Notice the heavy steel door? It's the same kind that banks have. I beefed up security, even adding security cameras here and there …"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Which also explains those strips of tire-shredding spikes we saw as we drove in," Eric interjected.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Unfortunately, yes. A few of the local thieves drive souped-up hotrods, which used to give them quite a head start. The tire spikes are my equalizer."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Has all this helped?" I asked, incredulous that such a remote retreat, filled with men and catering to men, would have any burglary issues. I thought any thief would be scared off by all the testosterone. It was my belief that criminals target the weak and unaware, and not a bunch of drunk guys itching for a fight.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"I know what you're thinking, Adam, so I'll put it like this," said Sammy, rubbing his beer gut as he gathered his thoughts. "You guys come here expecting a good time, so your guard is down, especially when we all get to drinking. So many customers' vehicles were getting stolen or their cabins were ransacked. I was losing both new and repeat business." He leaned in closer, as if to share a secret with us. We responded in kind. "Personally, I think the sheriff and his posse are even in on it, so I had to take matters into my own hands or risk losing my business."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"In that case," said Eric as he heaved his massive set of keys into an open bin, "let's get this party started!" The keys were followed by his hunting knife, wallet, and mobile phone.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Sammy closed the bin's lid and clamped it shut before padlocking it. He handed Eric the padlock's key, turned to me, and asked, "And you?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Reluctantly, I tossed my set of keys and wallet into the other bin.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Anything else?" he mumbled, peering over the counter at me. I shrugged and shook my head, "no," which prompted Sammy to say, "Suit yourself." He began to close the box's lid and then blurted out, "By the way, mobile phones, even satellite phones, won't work out here because Manton's electric generators are old and rickety. They create an insane amount of radio waves that distort and interrupt cell phones. If you have a contact list, apps, or anything else you care about on your phone, you may want to lock your phone up, too. You aren't gonna need it out here anyway."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">I meekly slid my hand into the container, dropping into it the mobile phone I palmed.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Good lad," Sammy smirked.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">I mumbled, "If this place is so great, why do I feel like a prisoner?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">I was embarrassed that Sammy heard me. He replied with, "Manton's security is really no different than what you'd find in any popular tourist-resort, son. Just as I do, they warn you to lock up your valuables. Why, did you know that on Hawaii, since it's an island, every criminal has a copy of a key for every rental car?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Oh, come on," I sneered, expecting to hear a tall tale.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"No, I'm serious. The bad guys realized long ago that there are only so many rental cars on the islands. They roam, looking for the cars that match their set of keys. Within seconds, they swipe everything out of the trunk, while you're inside, checking into your hotel. Neat, huh?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"This place has problems like that?" I asked. "How can you afford to stay in business with so much rampant crime?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Oh, there haven't been any break-ins here for a long, long time. In fact, I can't even remember when the last one occurred, but it's my job to ensure your safety and that you have a great stay. I want everyone to have such a good time that they never want to leave."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Okay," interrupted Eric, "let's stop the positioning and get on with the partying."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Sammy locked the box containing my things, dropped the key into my outstretched hand, turned around, and carried the two boxes into the darkened vault. Eric and I relaxed when we heard them slide into place. We watched as Sammy swung closed the massive bank-style steel door and spin its equally-massive lock's wheel. "There, all set."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Wow, that's an elaborate setup you've got there," Eric said with admiration. "Do you open and close it every time someone checks in?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Heck no," Sammy said with a slight laugh. "It's close to quitting time, and I'm not expecting any more new guests tonight, so securing the vault saves me a little effort later this evening as I lock up."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Weary of all this security babble, I asked, "What's next?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Sammy slid two clipboards onto the counter, right in front of us.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Glad you asked. This here's our standard registration paperwork. Please complete the first page, filling in your contact info, license-plate number, all the usual stuff, and then sign it at the bottom."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Didn't I already give you this info in the first set of papers you handed me?" Eric huffed.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"No, not really," Sammy replied. "Those were for the background check, mandatory fishing and boating licenses, and a certification that you're old enough to drink."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Eric and I exchanged grimaces, the kind borne from familiarity and frustration of having teenagers driving. Ignoring Eric's agitation, I followed up Sammy's comment with, "And the second page?" I asked, as I scribbled my details onto the form.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Sammy sighed and scrunched up his face, as if expecting another protest out of me. "Page two contains our disclaimer, along with a waiver that you must agree to and sign before you can stay even one night in Manton."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">Eric and I flipped to the page and scanned it for any oddities, which, of course, we found.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Good Lord …," I stammered as I read.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Look, fellas, this is a man's town. You get a bunch of guys together, throw in some booze and a big helping of masculine things to do, and, unfortunately, someone's bound to get hurt every once in a while. The disclaimer and waiver protect me and the others in Manton from getting sued if things get out of hand."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Yeah, that's pretty much what I'm reading here," I mumbled. I turned my head to look at Eric and sarcastically asked, "I didn't expect to vacation in the freakin' Roman coliseum, battling with a horde of gladiators."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Geez, Eric, how'd you two ever get to be friends?" Sammy snarled, looking to Eric for camaraderie.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Adam, stop challenging everything and trust me. Just sign the stupid form and relax, would you?" Eric angrily whispered. "We're gonna have a great time, as long as you stop whining."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">"Fine," I huffed, scribbling my signature, acknowledging that I release Sammy and Manton, Inc from any liability for harm, injury, or death, or any other loss that might occur during my stay.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;">* * * * *</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK42;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK41;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK17;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK26;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK27;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
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Chapter 3 will appear here tomorrow night. Thank you for reading this story. I would greatly appreciate your feedback!</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-9099405934593806313?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-85426296789668559772012-09-02T23:22:00.000-04:002012-09-02T23:22:18.151-04:002012-09-02T23:22:18.151-04:00Man Cave, Chapter 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK80"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK79"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Man Cave<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">-</span></b> Chapter 1</span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><o:p> </o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;">a novel by</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;">LC Cooper</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;">Copyright LC Cooper, April 01, 2012</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;">Published by LC Cooper at Smashwords</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;">Smashwords Edition, License Notes</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;">This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK79;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK80;">This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK21"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK20"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK8"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK7"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK21;">* * * * *</span></span></span></a></div>
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK21;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"></span><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.25in;">
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Chapter 1<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Eric</span></b> called, chattering excitedly about his pickup truck's transmission. Seems the mechanic finally found and fixed the leak. What great news, and it came at the perfect time, as Eric's and my annual trek into Yosemite was to begin the next morning.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">At 4:30 a.m., I, bleary-eyed but full of adrenaline and coffee, tossed my gear into Eric's truck-bed and hopped into the cab.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">Conversation beyond the customary "good morning" was limited to grunts, nods, and the usual guy chatter about the weather and camping conditions. After the banter died off, I rested my head against the side window and closed my eyes.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"Why are you so tired?" Eric asked.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"I stayed up too late watching military shows. Ugh, I'm paying for it now." I rubbed my eyes and began to sit upright, but the rhythm of the road was easing me again to the comfortable corner where window meets seatback.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">Eric wasn't about to let me sleep. "Anything cool?" He enjoyed the adrenaline rush of a good combat documentary or weapons show.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">My left eye popped open and I gave him the wrinkled-eyebrow grimace. "Really? Not obvious enough that I'm trying to sleep?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"Don't leave me hanging. You wouldn't have stayed up so late if you were watching reruns or something boring. Come on, spill it."</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">Man, he knew me well. I wasn't out to hide anything from him; I just wanted to sleep. I knew Eric well enough that he wouldn't let up, so I breathed in grumpily, and then sighed, "Over and over, I watched a segment on the most wicked shotgun I've ever seen." The memory instantly perked me up and I shot upright in my seat.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"You've seen many shotguns. What's so great about the one in the show?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"It was built only for the military – it's not the usual workup from a hunting gun." I shifted in my seat with excitement as I continued the story. "This monster, the AA-12, fires between 150 and 300 rounds per minute. It's a 12-gage, recoilless<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>automatic with a 20-shell drum magazine. The freaking thing can also launch grenade-like projectiles at almost the same rate."</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"Heh, could you see us hunting with a couple of those bad boys?" he chuckled.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"Yeah, but whatever we killed would be turned into unrecognizable mush. There wouldn't be anything left of the animal to eat, let alone mount on a wall." We both shook our heads and imagined how much fun we'd have shredding every banker, boss, car dealer, politician and anyone else who's screwed us over. I was fondly thinking about my ex-wife's divorce attorney when Eric distracted me from this most deliciously rewarding fantasy. </span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">He cut off our usual early-morning babble with, "I got a surprise for you … for your fiftieth birthday, that is."</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">Caught off-guard, I didn't have a sarcastic comeback. My ex-wife, kids, and friends all knew I was dreading turning fifty, and they had been teasing me all year. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that Eric was about to crack another oldster joke. I braced for the kick in the teeth.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">Instead, he tossed a folded newspaper into my lap and told me to read the circled advertisement. Still expecting a practical joke, I carefully lifted a distant corner of the paper, believing one of those cardboard-and-rubber-band phony snake gags would go off. I was determined not to react to whatever he had hidden within the newspaper.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"Go on, you old fart. It's not like I hid your AARP application in there. Quit stalling and read the ad. I got to know what you think before we get to the highway."</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"Why?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"Your choice determines whether we go on to Yosemite or …"</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">Realizing he wasn't kidding, I turned on the truck's interior light and brought the newspaper up close to my face, which is when Eric teased me about my poor eyesight being tied to my advanced age. I grumbled for him to shut up and drive while I searched for the tiny ad.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">Wedged beneath a large banner ad that screamed obscene colors and fonts and another for a tropical cruise was a two-line ad that read:</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tired of the same old thing? Ready for a vacation you'll never forget?<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Call Sammy at 555-767-1204 to book your break from reality.</i></span></span></div>
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"What's this, Eric?" I asked; curious and no longer suspicious.</div>
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"Your birthday present, my ancient friend," he chuckled while patting me on the shoulder. "I had planned to buy you a case of adult diapers, which I'm sure you'll soon need, but I decided to get you something that would remind you of your – our – younger days."</div>
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I shrugged off his diapers comment. "Okay, I appreciate that you might have actually put some thought into a gift, but what does this have to do with our camping trip to Yosemite? A moment ago, you said something about needing my decision before we hit the highway."</div>
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"Yeah, because I booked us a week at the resort in the ad you just read," Eric said, emphasizing his excitement by tapping his index finger on the ad. "I have to call this guy, Sammy, in the next few minutes if you'd rather go on to Yosemite. I'd need to cancel our reservation."</div>
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Impressed, I sat silent, which added to Eric's agitation. "Why so quiet, Adam? C'mon and make up your mind, would you? I only have a few minutes."</div>
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"What do you know about this place?" I tossed out.</div>
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"From what Sammy told me, he created a town for men who want to escape the pressures of home and work. The place is loaded with all kinds of things for guys to do. He said he's got several bars, game rooms, and that kind of stuff, as well as campgrounds, a stocked lake, hiking trails, and all kinds of motorbikes, ATVs, 4x4s, and anything else we'd need to go off-roading."</div>
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"Sounds pretty cool," I grumbled, "but I was looking forward to Yosemite."</div>
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"Yeah, me too, but we've explored most of it, and we were planning to set up camp at the exact same spot we have for the last five years. Don't you want to try something different – something new?" The sign pointing to highway 51 was illuminated by the headlights. "Well, do we head on to the same <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">old</i> thing?" he asked. I caught his emphasis of the word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">old</i>, realizing he was goading me into trying this new place.</div>
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Admittedly, I enjoyed the predictability of our Yosemite campsite. The last six years were a blur as all of Beth's and my kids graduated college, got jobs, and had kids. It had only been a little over a year since Beth divorced me. Losing her older sister to breast cancer really messed with her head. I tried to be there for her, but the more I tried, the harder she pushed me away. So, here I sat, in Eric's pickup truck, pondering the choice between the same old thing, with its memories and baggage, or chuck aside the past to embark on a new path.</div>
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I wasn't as sharp as Eric, so I was usually comfortable letting him make decisions for us. Given enough time to mull things over, however, I'd eventually make the same choice as Eric. I fondly thought of Yosemite, blinked, and then said, "Let's try the new place." I let out a sigh and slightly shook my head. It's not like I was letting go of Yosemite; after all, there would be other years ahead to go there, but I wasn't so sure that after trying something new, I'd ever want to go back.</div>
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A flurry of memories flooded my brain, which resulted in me slightly smiling. Eric asked why I had a stupid grin on my face. I replied with, "I'm good, Eric. Just thinking about a couple of our more harrowing trips to Yosemite. Hey, we've got nothing to lose, so let's try something new."</div>
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Eric wrenched the steering wheel, sending his truck skidding back onto Pendergast Road. I leaned forward and watched, through the side mirror, as highway 51 disappeared into the pre-dawn darkness.</div>
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"You're going to love this," Eric said, enthusiastically bouncing in his seat.</div>
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"Too much coffee? Gotta stop to pee?" I said, mocking his exuberance.</div>
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"Wow, not yet 50, and you've already got that grumpy-old-man thing down pat, don't you?"</div>
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"Anyone would be grouchy if they'd have put up with you as long as I have. You're nutty enough to drive anyone insane."</div>
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"Someone's got to keep you in check, old man – you know, to balance out all that vinegar you spew."</div>
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"Bite me."</div>
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"See what I mean?"</div>
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My moods were all over the place. Eric's taunting wasn't helping my uneasiness, either. I'm a planner. Our annual Yosemite trip was arranged months in advance. My gear was neat and orderly. I could wrap my arms around it and our trip. These were things I understood. The chaos of my kids growing up plus the divorce put me in a tailspin. I certainly did appreciate Eric's effort in arranging this new trip, but so much had happened in such a short amount of time, I had been looking forward to Yosemite as a friendly reprieve. Now, I wasn't going to enjoy that comfortable feeling. Instead of gliding into my 50s, Eric, just like everyone else in my life, was shoving me from 49 into 50, without stopping to let me take a breather.</div>
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"It's a full day's drive from here," Eric said, distracting me out of my panicky thoughts. "How about I drive for two hours, and then we'll stop for breakfast. Would you mind driving between breakfast and lunch, then I'll drive the rest of the way. Sound good?"</div>
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"I'm willing to drive half the time. Not really fair for you to be stuck with most of the driving."</div>
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"Consider this trip is Natasha's and my birthday gift to you. Relax for a bit. I'm fine being the chauffeur. If you could spell me for a few hours, I'd be able to rest long enough to get us to our destination."</div>
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"Fine with me," I sighed, relieved that Eric wasn't expecting me to drive the last leg into an unknown location. I tore up his truck once before, plowing into a snow bank on our way to a frozen lake to fish, so I've been reluctant to take the wheel. Eric had sighed, too. It was obvious from his expression that he was just as relieved that I didn't protest.</div>
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The resultant silence was awkward, and instead of cracking a couple of jokes to dispel it as I usually would do in this situation, I used the time to look around the truck's tired, old cab.</div>
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Eric and I cracked many a joke and a few running gags about his truck. Don't get me wrong, it was a fine vehicle that was always faithful. It saved our hides on more than one occasion. The humor was due to him calling the truck's cab his <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">man cave</i>.</div>
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That stupid term came about a few years ago, as it was trendy for an insecure and spoiled man-boy to block off a room in his house where he could store his crap – the stuff that no woman in the world would allow in the rest of the house. The usual arrangement included an oversized TV, beat-up and smelly furniture, some kind of game console or pinball machine, hunting and fishing trophies, and sports memorabilia.</div>
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Eric and I never knew anyone who could afford to have a separate room to themselves. Certainly, Eric and I couldn't. Heck, our homes were standard three-bedroom, two-bath boxes barely large enough for us, our wives, and a couple of kids each. The closest thing we had to man caves were our garages, and those were usually crammed full of bicycles, piles of laundry, dusty cardboard boxes, and lawn tools. Somewhere buried beneath a mound of my girls' performance dresses, batons, and other emasculating nonsense was my fold-up workbench. I never invited friends over to crank out weekend projects because it was just too humiliating to dig through all that girly stuff for my puny toolbox and workbench.</div>
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So, our sarcastic response to idiots who demanded a man cave in their houses was to name Eric's truck-cab <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Man Cave</i>. It wasn't much to look at, after all, his truck was over thirty years old and quite the beater, but it suited us nicely. It had tons of history and character in every square inch of it. What wasn't stained from soda and beer spills was coated in dried fish slime, concentrated deer urine, and sweat. It stunk, making it a place no woman cared to go; thus, it was the ideal man cave.</div>
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A deep, long gash creased the center of the sun-warped and dust-encrusted dashboard. I used to flick away chips of dried-out plastic from the decaying dash until Eric asked me to stop making his truck look ugly, as if it could <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">get</i> any uglier. Blobs of hardened epoxy kept the rear-view mirror in place. The thing rattled and rocked, but it generally stayed up. The faded strand of rosary beads swayed from the mirror, adding to its instability. The rosary, placed there years before by Eric's oldest and well-intentioned daughter, did so when their family attended church together for a whole month. The crucifix's fake rosewood finish was faded, and the underlying chips of pine were splintered and cracked. It really should have been chucked into the trashcan, but Eric refused, saying it was a memento from happier years.</div>
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Another holdover from long ago was the acrylic picture frame velcro'd to the front of the dash. Centered beneath the rocking rearview mirror and swaying rosary, the scratched and pitted frame <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>contained the two photos that meant everything to Eric. The photo within the left side was Eric and his wife, Natasha's, engagement photo, now nearly thirty years old. The other picture was of their three kids. It was taken two days before his eldest, Emily, announced, at the age of fourteen, that she was pregnant.</div>
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Since then, Emily went on to have four more kids over the next eight years, all with different men. His other two children, Hunter and Tonya, became bitter disappointments. Within days of Emily's pregnancy announcement and several days of ensuing arguments, a bag of marijuana fell out of Hunter's school backpack and landed at Eric's feet. Screaming and arguing became daily realities for Eric and his family.</div>
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Because of the instability at home, Tonya, who was Eric and Natasha's youngest, packed her belongings one afternoon and moved in with Natasha's mother – never to return. Attempts to reconcile the family succeeded in driving deeper wedges between Eric, Natasha, and their kids. Undercurrents, simmering slightly below the surface, boiled into a seething froth when the family attended counseling.</div>
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Eric's long absences from home were determined by the over-eager psychiatrist to be the most frequent reason blamed for the family's rupture. Defending his job became pointless. He became the favorite target of everyone's angst. I remember summer was approaching when Eric chose to give up on the counseling sessions. As he told me, the only one getting anything out of the sessions was the psychiatrist. Once devoid of their favorite target, Eric's wife and kids lost their blood lust, and one by one, stopped attending as well.</div>
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Eric told me it was nearly Thanksgiving before everyone recovered from the psychiatrist's programming and began learning to co-exist again, but the tenuous bond they had was crushed. They all kept their distance, having lost interest in being around each other. Eric stopped talking to me about his family troubles, and I thought it was something I said, concerned that I, too, had given up on him, but he said he just didn't want to dwell on it any longer.</div>
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Instead, Eric replaced reality by clinging to the memories of his wife and kids as they had been when the two photos were taken. Bitterness and remorse surfaced only when I questioned his not getting newer photos. I stopped teasing him after receiving the only black eye I've ever had. Apparently, I pushed too hard. I suggested that a set of new photos might help dispel his family's funk, but my well-intended recommendation enraged Eric. I didn't realize, back then, how scarred he was. After a couple weeks of keeping our distance, Eric and I met in the street outside our homes, shook hands, and apologized.</div>
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"That shiner's almost healed," was Eric's apology, mumbled while shifting his attention between his shuffling boots and his wife, Natasha's, glare.</div>
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"You got away with a lucky sucker punch. I never felt a thing," I grumbled; a reply that got me a jab in the ribs from my then-wife, Beth.</div>
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That's how Eric and I mended the only rift that ever came between us. Since then, though, I never say anything about the photos. One Christmas, I convinced Natasha that buying a new plastic picture frame to replace Eric's old and cracked one was a lousy idea. I imagined Eric's freak-out and the resulting round of counseling sessions. I convinced her there was no need to piss away any more money. Instead, I helped her buy a radio to replace the one that had been stolen out of Eric's truck.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't remember when the radio was stolen, but it had to be a few years past as Eric was using the cavity to store maps and other junk that couldn't be crammed into the over-stuffed glove compartment. The glove box was where the family heirlooms were kept. As Eric was fond of saying, doing so was safer than entrusting them to a greedy banker. The reason he squirreled the family's valuables there was that his son, Hunter, was caught pawning his mother's diamond earrings to buy drugs.</div>
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Right before Christmas, while Eric was away on a business trip, Natasha and I replaced the stolen radio with a really nice Blaupunkt. I yanked it out of a wrecked Porsche that we found in a junkyard. To convince the guy working the counter that the radio was worth very little, I had popped off the faceplate so the radio looked like a plain metal box. After all, without a faceplate, everyone knew a radio was useless. The guy thought he was pulling one over on me, but what he didn't know was that I had pocketed both the faceplate and the Porsche's owner's manual, which contained the radio's code. I smugly walked away with an $800 radio that I paid only $20 for. Ethics, shmehics, his loss was my gain. Eric's wife, Natasha, was so thrilled that she was nice to me for almost a week.</div>
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Well, the radio was easy to install and looked much better in Eric's man cave than did the stack of stained maps and burger wrappers. Unfortunately, the speakers were shot – all buzzy-sounding and distorted. When I returned to the junkyard in hopes of retrieving the Porsche's speakers, the sales guy demanded $1,000 for the speakers, to make up for the Blaupunkt that he claimed I pretty much stole from him. So, the speakers inside Eric's truck remained where they were, sounding ratty and shot. </div>
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The Blaupunkt radio became yet another strange addition to Eric's man cave. Every time we got in the truck, one of us inevitably grumbled about the amazing sound system that never produced a good sound. Replacing his lousy speakers became one of our many summer projects; however, as it is with so many well-intentioned projects, we got no further than ripping the door panel off the passenger's-side door, which explains the insane rattle. Gravity and a handful of paper clips keep the panel from popping out and falling to the ground. The screws and other supporting hardware disappeared in a boating accident on the lake.</div>
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The way it happened was one of the mysteries behind the aura of Eric's man cave. The speakers' screws and supports were accidentally tossed into Eric's fishing boat one day and forgotten. I saw the bag of parts fly over the front of the boat and sink the day Eric and I went fishing and he accidentally rammed his boat into a submerged boulder. The bag of hardware zoomed by me as it and I were hurtled into the chilly water. I never did tell Eric that I saw the missing parts. Not telling him was my way of paying him back for the accident that destroyed my best fishing pole.</div>
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Many folks, those who didn't know us well anyway, believed Eric and I didn't get along – maybe even hated each other. Sure, we had several heated and very public arguments, but what do you expect from two guys who grew up together like brothers? We remained loyal friends, no matter what, ever since my family moved into the neighborhood when I was five years old. Eric and I got along better than we did with our wives, which irritated the heck out of them.</div>
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Eric's wife, Natasha, most often went with the flow. When things were good between her and Eric and their kids, his and my friendship didn't make Natasha jealous. Unfortunately, when their family blew apart, Natasha no longer appeared to care about much. Prescription sedatives helped her make sense of the world. She no longer noticed Eric's and my frequent get-away trips.</div>
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My wife at the time, Beth, wasn't compassionate or induced into being supportive. She went so far, until she became bored, with flirting with Eric. She didn't do it as a result of any sexual attraction, for Eric was butt-ugly, out of shape, and, I believed, moody.</div>
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Beth, although attractive to me, was never one to turn heads. Many mistook her for a dowdy librarian instead of a brilliant biochemist. It was hard for me to believe folks couldn't tell the difference, but I certainly could. Eric also recognized the beauty within Beth and did flirt, but for some reason, his doing so didn't bother me. I suppose it was because I felt very comfortable in my relationships with both Beth and Eric.</div>
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Unlike Eric's desire for playful banter and her dry retorts, I was first attracted to Beth's beaming smile and piercing eyes. When she made eye contact with me, I'd feel nervous and weak. How I loved to hold her hand and listen to all the intelligence flowing out of her. After a few years of hearing the same old thing, however, I found myself tuning her out. She also noticed, and, as she and I began drifting apart, Eric and I grew closer. I needed <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">guy</i> conversations; those filled with bragging, humiliation, irony, and lunacy. Beth's need for a mute sounding board meant little to me.</div>
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Physically, after having kids, our love life plodded along the stereotypical path of little intimacy and the burden of forgotten tenderness and ways of sharing. It didn't help my attitude any that Beth was a taker and I was the giver – at least for the first dozen-or-so years. Eventually, her unwillingness to do even the slightest thing for me turned me off so much that hopelessness and feelings of rejection replaced romance and intimacy.</div>
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It was about this time when Eric and I began taking vacations separately from our wives – not all of them, only one or two a year. This proved too frequent for my selfish Beth. More often than not, the few days before one of Eric's and my getaways were spent fending off Beth's jealous rants.</div>
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Thankfully, Beth's and my kids were never dragged into our arguments as they were away at boarding school every Monday through Friday. As such, Beth and I always put on the happy faces when the kids came home for the weekends. This system worked well enough until Eric and I began taking these trips. The kids became aware Beth and I were having major problems when, in advance of a Tuesday departure, Beth and I fought through the entire weekend.</div>
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In hindsight, Beth and I were idiots for not being straightforward with our children. Sweeping our problems under the rug blindsided the kids, and their backlash reaction was directed right at me. After all, I was the one abandoning their poor old mother for a week – and naturally, Beth played it up. The last thing she wanted was for me to leave her with our three upset kids, having to explain the past few years without me around. Beth took the upper hand on this one. Whenever I was away, Beth used the opportunity to badmouth me. By the time I returned home, my kids always refused to talk with me, or they would damage or destroy some personal item of mine. It hurt the most when my uncle's Green Beret uniforms were removed from my closet, a fact that remained hidden from me until a few weeks before Eric's family detonated. I tried, but was unsuccessful, at convincing Beth and my kids to lighten up on me. Instead, they ganged up and turned it around on me, saying that if Eric had been around more often, his family would still be together. This was a scenario I couldn't argue against and one they used as their poster child for despising me.</div>
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What did all of this have to do with my prized fishing rod and my tumultuous friendship with Eric? Everything. For if it wasn't for my sneaking out of my house one Saturday morning with rod and reel in hand to go fishing with Eric, which, by the way, was at his insistence, I would still be married and I'd have my great-grandfather's hickory rod still mounted above the fireplace. To this day, I find it difficult not to blame Eric for ruining both.</div>
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How was I supposed to know that Beth had planned a last-ditch romantic getaway, which she scheduled for that very same weekend? We had stopped talking about romance and details, so I didn't pay any attention when Beth asked me to stick around for the weekend. I figured she had some irritating yard-maintenance project awaiting me, so I pretended not to hear her.</div>
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Saturday morning came, and I slipped out of bed at 3:00 a.m., and then snuck downstairs to the living room. I remember grinning as I reached for my great-grandfather's highly figured, chunky, and perfectly balanced fishing rod. It slid from its mount without making a sound. However, I thought Beth would be awakened to the sound of my heart pounding in my chest as I tiptoed through the kitchen and toward the garage. Relieved to hear her snoring, I pushed the creaky door to the garage open and slithered through the maze of crap until I came to the grotto where my manly stuff was allowed to exist. There, I grabbed my tackle box and bait, and then slipped out the garage's back door.</div>
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Oh, how vital and alive I felt as I crossed my yard and into Eric's. In hindsight, I wish I had turned around and looked up to see Beth watching me from our bedroom window. I wish her tears could have touched my cold heart. If I only knew then what I know now.</div>
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Instead of accepting Beth's proposal, I pushed past the thought of glancing back, and set my rod to rest against the tailgate of Eric's truck. I tossed the tackle box and bait container into the truck bed before hustling into Eric's garage. As expected, he was waiting for me with a thermos full of coffee. I went inside to grab the cooler of sandwiches, chips, and beer while he got the truck warmed up.</div>
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I heard the crunch of his tailgate closing, but didn't give it a thought because twigs always dropped from trees overhead, becoming dislodged only when the tailgate crushed them on its way up. Eric's reaction was the same as mine. He jumped behind the wheel, started the engine, and flashed the headlights twice to hurry me up. I didn't need his pushiness and prepared to tell him so after setting the cooler into the truck bed. Thoughts of sipping hot coffee and catching enormous fish replaced my irritation, and we backed out of the driveway to the sound of crackling and crunching.</div>
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I slowly closed and then opened my eyes as I realized the death rattle came from my cherished rod and reel being shattered beneath the truck's wheels. "You didn't happen to set my rod in with yours, did you?" I breathily asked.</div>
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"Um, nope, I thought you had already."</div>
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"And it didn't dawn on you to check why the tailgate made a loud snapping sound as you closed it?"</div>
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"You and I both know junk gets caught in the hinge all the time, especially during the fall. How was I to know your pole was back there?" he huffed after jamming the gear into park. "Everything wrong in your life is always someone else's fault, right?" he grunted as he shoved his door open, mumbled another angry barb, and bent down to take a look under the front of the truck.</div>
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He shook his head sadly and motioned for me to join him, which I chose not to do. Instead, I cracked open the door and told him I didn't want to see it and to scrape together what he could and toss it into the trash bin – which he did. I didn't have the heart or the guts to get out and say goodbye to my favorite toy.</div>
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Looking back on it, I wondered if my tears matched the flow of my wife's that early morning. Sad and frustrated, I almost called it quits. The allure of another beautiful weekend on a lake, however, sang like a siren to me.</div>
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Eric always had several fishing poles in the back of his truck, so the weekend wasn't a wash, but my heart wasn't in it. Stupidly and selfishly, instead of wishing I had decided to stay home with Beth, I lamented the loss of my fishing pole. I suppose if I understood Beth's priorities for me, I would have called it a day and trudged back to my house.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Unfortunately, my sorrow didn't quench Beth's rage after I returned home Sunday evening. My apologies fell on deaf ears, while mine burned and blistered from the sulphur spewed deep from within Beth's soul. I meekly recounted the story of my prized fishing pole's last moments, hoping that we could commiserate, but it sounded so trite coming out of my mouth that Beth cackled hysterically. She wasn't happy in a revengeful sort of way. No, she was incredulous that I made a pathetic comparison between our failed marriage to the loss of a fishing pole.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
I suppose complacency clouded my judgment. Because we didn't discuss much, I thought everything was fine – that Beth didn't really mind when I blew off her plans of romantic getaways and weekends of just the two of us hanging out together. It never sunk in that these events were her attempts to save our marriage. But, as she argued that fateful Sunday evening, why should she work to keep our marriage alive when I no longer acted interested in being a part of it?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
I don't think I'll ever understand how expectations for a weekend can become so distorted and twisted that the reality is perfectly awful by the end of it. Perhaps if I did, then I could explain my decision to spend my 50th birthday with Eric.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Actually, I hadn't planned on going with Eric on this year's trip. With Beth gone, I was desperate to regain some kind of relationship with my kids. It was only after several failed attempts to reunite with my kids did I finally give in and agree to take this trip. Sadly, instead of offering an alternative birthday event for my fiftieth, my kids chipped in to help Eric pay for this year's getaway. I read their gesture as a one of good riddance. They never returned my calls, only Eric's, which substantiated my belief.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
So, here I sat, sulking in Eric's cab, wondering why I was even alive. Eric was great at cheering me up, but this time my funk was too great for his b.s. to overcome. After a handful of failed attempts, Eric gave up on changing my mood. We were silent for the remainder of this leg of our journey.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
We were quiet, but not brain dead. I saw Eric glance and sometimes stare at the two photos affixed atop his dashboard. He softly sighed with each look. I knew those sighs were for what could, and should, have been. Not interested in getting a black eye on my fiftieth, I kept silent, studying all the history and character within this old truck. Eric's was a very comfortable man cave because it had balls - oddities that made his cab unique. Eric didn't believe in wasting time matching colors, which was probably a result of him being color-blind. Although his truck's exterior was painted baby blue, in its early days, the bright-white letters of the word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ford</i> were a terrific match, those letters had long ago faded and crumbled. Rust replaced all the lettering, along with most of the exposed metal. What remained of the exterior paint was scattered across the truck's body.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
The interior didn't fare much better. The original dashboard had cracked and crumbled apart. It's white plastic had received several coats of paint over the years, but nothing saved it from the heat of the scorching sun and insanely dry air. About four years ago, Eric replaced it, the dashboard, with one he yanked out of another in a junk yard. He didn't care that it was beige. To him, it was close enough. Besides, it was in good shape and was without cracks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
I helped Eric remove the crumbling dash and replace it. Once again, though, we didn't get around to completing the project. A couple of missing screws allowed two sections of the dash to rattle and shake. The noise never bothered us because we couldn't hear it above the rattle and grinding emanating from the failing transmission. Now that Eric had the tranny fixed, all the cab's rattles and creaks were getting on my nerves. I reached for the radio, hoping the scratchiness of its speakers would drown out the truck's death-rattles. No such luck – the speakers seemed to amplify the other noises instead of burying them within white noise.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
The disharmony within his truck's cab was grating and distracting, but it blended with the rest of the truck's oddness. Over the years, Eric sanded away layers of bad paint jobs, which exposed the metal, which explains all the rust and patches of baby-blue paint. Well-intentioned, Eric believed he'd get around to repainting his truck, but never seemed to have the time or the energy to finish it. The paint within the truck's cab was another story. Eric rationalized that since door-frame and interior metals were essentially hidden and out of sight most of the time, why bother to sand and repaint them? As such, Eric's truck's cab had a motley off-white dashboard, one section of black-painted window frame, another section of green, and others of brown, blue, and red.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Sometimes, I pitied Eric because his truck was a beater, a schizophrenic showcase of failed plans that seemed to reflect the pain of his personal life. Eric never cared, though, about his pickup's appearance or what the neighbors thought of it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
When his world was crashing down around him, Eric found comfort in his dilapidated pickup truck. Its strangeness, and not Eric, received<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the disparaging stares and snide comments, allowing him to retreat into the cab's insulating shell. I was surprised at how long it took me to realize the genius behind Eric's eccentricity. If it weren't for my failed marriage and related despondency, I'm not sure I'd ever have understood. The reality was that the condition of Eric's pickup was the only thing he said he felt able to control and find pride in. Every square inch of the truck existed as it was because that's how Eric wanted it to be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
His relationships with his wife and children may have been irreparably scarred, but he knew his self-designed pickup truck would never reject him. He could make it look dumb as crud, but it would always welcome and forgive him. Eric's truck truly was the perfect man cave.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
I wished I had a man cave, too, for it would have been a much more comfortable and dignified place to live. Armed with her most-grating lawyer, Beth took me to the cleaners when she left me. I lost the house and my truck. Nearly fifty, I had nothing to show, materially, for my life. Fifty, and I was living in my best friend's basement, bumming rides off him in his beat-up truck.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Divorce, at my age, was a humbling experience. All Beth and I had worked hard for over the decades became hers. I got stuck with the collection of lawyer fees and a judge's signature on a document that granted Beth full custody of our kids. My credit was useless as Beth burned through it. The coup de grace was when she used every last dime to pay off our house and her car.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it weren't for Eric's friendship and generosity, I'd be living in a cardboard box on the street. Thankfully, Eric never lorded my failed life over me. Maybe the main reason we stuck together for so long is that we both endured harsh realities that, by driving us away from others, these similar outcomes brought us closer even still.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
A "we're here" from Eric awakened me from my grogginess and depressing replay of everything miserable in my life. I flopped out of the truck, shoved my hands into my jeans pockets, and ambled toward the restaurant's door. Opening it, the odors of scorched coffee and thick frying grease wrestled their way into our brains. A mixed blessing, the choking stench of soggy cigarette smoke sealed my nostrils shut.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
I was surprised when Eric responded differently, as if this place was very familiar to him. He reacted to the wafting smells with a grin and a deep breath in. It was as if he were greeting an old friend. For a moment, I felt a twinge of jealousy, perhaps because I was unfamiliar with this facet of Eric's work life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
A disembodied voice happily and warmly greeted Eric, which made me feel further left out. Eric, true to his nature, looked out for me, though. I meekly smiled in the direction of the woman's voice when Eric yelled out that he was here with a friend.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
A burly, grumpy-looking man pushed up from his seat at the counter, squinted hard at Eric, and then rushed to where we stood, and then grabbed Eric, squeezing him with a playful bear hug. The man's toothless grin was genuine and broad. He patted Eric enthusiastically on the back, and then extended the same hand to shake mine. Eric introduced him as Tanner Ives, an old fishing buddy. Once again, jealous feelings seeped into my brain as I tried to rationalize why Eric didn't tell me about Tanner or their fishing trips.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Selfishly, I couldn't believe I wasn't the only person Eric hung out with. This was when it dawned on me that I should have made a better effort at listening to Eric's stories about his life on the road. I always thought he was making the stuff up, so I began tuning him out years ago. It did seem odd that with all the trips Eric and I shared since we were kids that Tanner and much of Eric's work life never came up in our conversations.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"I got tired of wasting my breath," Eric said in reply to the puzzled and hurt look on my face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
My formulating protest vanished when Tanner motioned for Eric and me to take the two empty seats next to him, which we did. I leaned forward and strained to hear their conversation, which was <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>garbled because of the raucous chatter and plate clattering that made up the restaurant's background noise.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Been a few months since we seen you, Eric. Where've you been?" asked Tanner.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"The utilities board had a few lines down this winter, but local talent got to them before I could," replied Eric with a shrug of his shoulders. "They pay me whether I'm sitting in an office or on the road. Sorry I missed hanging here with you and the others, Tanner, but not having to trudge through waist-deep snow to hang frozen-solid power lines was fine by me."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Tanner chuckled at this comment. It was easy to envision Eric kicked back in a desk chair, feet propped up on the desktop, and fast asleep.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"How can I get one of them cushy jobs? I thought no matter what, they'd have you driving all over the county, inspecting lines and what not."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"In the middle of winter? Not without getting hazardous-duty pay, my friend," Eric deadpanned, which caused Tanner to guffaw. A little late, I offered up a faint and half-hearted laugh to show I was one of the guys.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Hey, Andie …"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"It's <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Adam</i>, Tanner," I corrected.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Oh, sorry," Tanner replied with a smug grin. "Betcha didn't know either that your buddy, Eric, here is a mighty fine hovercraft pilot."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Huh?" I intelligently replied. Confused, I looked to Eric for clarification.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
He shyly nodded and smiled, adding, "Well, although it's true Tanner taught me how to fly a hovercraft, I'm still learning."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Haw," Tanner said with a chuckle, "you don't have no reason to be modest." Turning his attention back to me, Tanner said, "Our pal, Eric here, caught on quick. He's taken my hovercraft over both frozen and thawed lakes, the occasional road, and even atop a bit of whitewater."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Why-why didn't you tell me?" I stammered. "Piloting a hovercraft has got to be one of the coolest things in the world, and yet you never told me."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Eric shrugged his shoulders and quietly said, "I didn't think there was a reason to bring it up until there was a time we'd need to use one. I was going to tell you before our next ice-fishing trip."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Tanner added, "You oughta see how a hovercraft flies across a frozen lake. Gets you to your fishing spot while the other guys are footin' it or struggling on dinky snowmobiles."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Fidgeting from awkwardness, this was the first time I was ever with Eric and felt like an outsider. On the periphery of their conversation, I began second-guessing when and how I could have missed out on being included in this part of Eric's life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
After quickly running a few flashbacks through my head, I realized I was too wrapped up in my own problems to care about Eric. Watching Eric and Tanner's happy expressions confirmed that my suspicion wasn't far from the truth. Weighted down by all the crap I let get to me, I now believed I had alienated Eric. This realization could have depressed me further, but I was determined not to sit there and take lightly getting shoved aside. I was willing to fight for Eric's friendship.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Ever been here?" I nervously bellowed as I tossed the folded newspaper to land in front of Tanner.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
His smile turned into a puzzled look as he first studied me and then the circled advertisement. He rubbed the stubble and his saggy cheek, then said, "No, son, I don't suppose I ever heard of something like this." He may have been old and worn-looking from the burdens of his later years, but the guy's mind was sharper than I expected. Although Eric didn't catch on, Tanner read right through my attempt to redirect the conversation by saying, "I suppose one day, when Eric's back on the road and not snoozing in his office, we'll make a run out there." Obviously unwilling to stomach much more of me, Tanner stood and roughly patted Eric on the back. "Been good to see you again, Eric. Don't be a stranger." He looked at me and said, "Feel free to be a stranger, there, sport."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
I sighed and grimaced, watching as Tanner plodded toward the cash register. He dug his chained wallet out of his back pocket, handed the cashier some money, kissed her playfully on a blushing cheek, and then shoved through those milling around the restaurant's door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Way to go, Adam," Eric grumbled. "You just chased off the best fishing guide this side of the Rockies."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"I – I didn't mean to," I muttered. Lying, I added, "I got wrapped up in the excitement of our trip, I guess, and was showing off."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Bullcrap, Adam. You're so strung out and insecure, you couldn't let me have a moment with anyone but you." Turning to face me, he finished with, "I had planned for Tanner to join us on this trip …"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Without asking for my input? I was under the impression that we developed our camping plans together, you and me," I incredulously asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Since when? Think about it, aren't I the one who usually comes to you with the idea and location? Only then do you get into the details. Sure, this is my birthday present to you, Adam, but that doesn't mean we can't break the ice by including other guys I know."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Feeling like an idiot, I sheepishly apologized, but the damage was done. Eric held onto stuff a bit longer than to my liking, so I expected it'd take a few days before he'd lose his frosty edge toward me. The best I could offer was, "You want me to chase Tanner down and apologize? I'd be glad to invite him to tag along."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Eric snorted and grumbled, "In his company, you'd be the tag along. Don't bother trying to fix this one. Tanner's long gone, and I've lost the desire, once again, to share my work life with you."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Geez, Eric, you're a repairman for a utility company," I snidely retorted. "What's there to know?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"I can see why Beth got fed up and left your sorry butt. You're a real downer, aren't you?" He stopped mouthing off when my shoulders drooped and I began nervously shuffling in my seat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
As I usually did during his brief rants, I sat quietly and stared straight ahead. It was a bitter pill for me to swallow that Eric was not only my best friend, but my only friend. Although glad he brought me to a restaurant that he frequented, it was a shock to learn he had a life outside of the one we shared as next-door neighbors. Frankly, I was overwhelmed by the realization, which was further complicated by the new sights, and smells of this completely foreign and uncomfortable restaurant. I slowly turned my head to look at Eric's face. I wondered if I really knew the guy sitting next to me. Instead of ranting, his voice had dropped to a whisper; nonetheless, it was painfully clear his mutterings were directed at me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Man, this trip with Eric was already sucking," I thought as I washed down a biscuit with a shot of hot coffee. This is when I remembered the only other lousy trip we took together.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Six years ago, Eric and I wasted one of our vacations not speaking to each other. Neither of us recall why we were fighting, but we were. It got so stupidly out of control that we slept in separate tents and made our own fires.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
A few days lapsed after returning home; the distance cooled us off, and we shared a forgiving laugh and made up. Yet, here we were, on the verge of repeating the same outcome. Keeping track of all this emotional stuff was way too much for me to handle. This trip was already in a death spiral.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Time out!" I accidentally shouted as I rose slightly up and out of my seat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"What's wrong with you?" blurted Eric, startled by my out-of-the-blue remark.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
It was so loud, in fact, that the entire restaurant fell silent. Embarrassed yet again, I waved to everyone and said everything was okay. I then buried my red face within the collar of my jacket.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"That's one of the things I like about you, Adam. You never fail to amuse me, you twit."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"You sound just like Beth," I grumbled, and then added, "but she's still better looking than you."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Oh, don't try to joke your way out of this, Adam. Shooting off your mouth has become quite an annoying habit of yours. First, you piss off Tanner and me, and then you make a fool of yourself on my turf." He sighed, and then added, "I actually believed you'd behave …," he muttered as he sadly shook his head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Hey, lay off the insults, Eric. I get it now that you were trying to help me; you know, branch out a bit." I paused to formulate my next comment. "Okay, so I felt a little intimidated by your pal, Tanner. Given a few more minutes, I'm sure he and I could have become …"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Tanner doesn't open up to many folks, Adam," Eric sighed, dismissing my meager attempt to salvage my dignity. "It took years of swapping fishing stories before he'd let his guard down. He's really a gentle and very nice guy; and yet," he said with a frown, "the moment I introduce you to him, you manage to chase him away. I had hoped to convince Tanner to come along, since you and I aren't familiar with the area we're heading to. He's a natural woodsman, someone we could learn from."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"I blew it, huh …"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"You could say that."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Eric motioned to the waitress and ordered himself a plate of sausage gravy and biscuits and a glass of grapefruit juice. Not only did the combination sound odd to me, but I never knew Eric liked grapefruit juice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
He saw the scrunched-up look on my face and said, "This is the only place I've ever found that serves pink-grapefruit juice. The owner has a relative in Florida who ships him the fresh fruit each month."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
For all these years, I thought Eric was a meat-and-potatoes guy, like me; yet, here he sat, in a plaid hunting jacket, prattling on about his grapefruit connection.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Although talking to me, I knew Eric was still quite pissed because he usually would have ordered me the same food he got for himself. Not this time, though, so I frantically scanned the foreign menu for something with a familiar name. Unfortunately, this was one of those restaurants that gave their meals and platters<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>names like "Thunder Box Soufflé," "Timberline Stack," and "Mama's Buttery Hash." I wanted sausage and gravy, too, but having learned my lesson with Tanner, I wasn't about to interrupt Eric and the waitress' flirting. As she turned to grab the pot to refill Eric's coffee cup, I nervously blurted out that I wanted Traitor Eggs and Mexican Hash.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Turned out what I ordered was a soupy version of Eggs Benedict and a side of chorizo mixed with chunks of undercooked potatoes. That meal kept my guts churning for hours. It was a good thing to order, as the rumbling in my stomach kept me awake and clenched during my part of the drive. I had the section of road that went on for what seemed like days without a change in scenery or terrain. When my stomach wasn't talking to me, thirty-seven preachers were – thanks to the amazing capability of the Blaupunkt radio. Apparently, out in the middle of nowhere, radio-station owners believed I needed to find God. My bladder ached, and the Scientology-preacher's rendition of the floods leading to Noah's Ark was only making my situation worse. I tapped the radio off, at least relieved to no longer listen to the garbled message coming through the destroyed speakers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"I gotta stop and pee," I said through a yawn. I slowed the truck and lightly steered onto the shoulder.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
Eric pretended to be asleep, but I knew he was quiet only because he was still mad at me. It wasn't until Eric's next shift, during the last leg of our journey, that he decided to talk to me, but it wasn't fast in coming. We wasted over an hour staring out the windows at the amazing landscape of soaring mountain peaks balanced along the edges of undulating valleys. Whether we had wanted to talk or not during this passage, the scenery took our breath away – as did the rarified altitude.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"You know," he began, "there's a whole side of me you care very little about."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"I already said I'm sorry, Eric, for crowding your conversation with your buddy, Tanner." I grumbled, adding, "I thought you and I were the fishing buddies."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"What do you think I did in my off hours while I was on the road? You know I don't like bars and truckstops. I'd often call Tanner and we'd go fishing. It was no big deal. Heck, Adam, you never wanted to hang out with me on the road."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
I defensively sputtered, "I had a job of my own, Eric. It's not like I could drop what I'm doing to come along with you while you fix broken phone lines."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"So, you shouldn't be giving me crap because I have more than just you for a friend."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"I'm only irritated, I guess, because you never mentioned Tanner."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Sure I did – several times – but you were always lost in your own little world."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"That's not true!"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
"Whenever we'd go camping, you spend the entire trip whining and griping about your wife and kids."</div>
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"Well, you certainly won't hear anything about them this trip," I shot back.</div>
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"Yeah, Beth got tired of listening to all your whining, too. Heck, I believe the main reason she left you was because of that mealy mouth of yours."</div>
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"You're one to talk, there, my friend. At least my kids didn't get mired down in pregnancy, drugs, and apathy."</div>
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"Oh really? Tell me, Adam, how often do you and your kids talk? They moved out of town, instead of attending your college just to get away from you, I heard. Go on and tell me – how many times a month do you and your kids speak. Heck, do you realize that you never mention them by their names? You always refer to them only as your kids."</div>
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My hesitation spoke loudly. "Just as I thought," he smirked. "You're a fine one to point a finger at me, you friggin' hypocrite."</div>
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"That's a big word coming from a cable-repair guy," I smirked.</div>
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Eric lurched the truck to the right and jammed hard on the brakes, which slammed me into the door. "Get out!" he hissed through a snarled lip, staring straight ahead. "You have no right to bust my chops about my life when yours is such a mess. I've heard enough of your non-stop griping about how miserable you are, yet you've done nothing to improve yourself. By the way, how long are you planning on living in my basement, you mooch."</div>
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I was in shock. Either Eric had a thin veneer that finally cracked, or I finally upset him enough that he could take no more. This was a heavy realization for me. I didn't think I was that bad over the years, but apparently, I was wrong. Immediately, I felt sad, confused, and hurt.</div>
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Eric repeated, "Get out," but added, "or give me a reason to keep this trip and our friendship alive."</div>
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My mouth still hung open in shock. My brain scrambled for a shred of our friendship that I could offer Eric as proof that I cared about him and his family. I started off by mumbling, but stopped when I realized the words were trite – regurgitated whining about my life. Before saying another word, I clamped my mouth shut.</div>
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"Nothing to say, eh, Adam? You mean you can't find one good thing to say …"</div>
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"I saved your life, Eric," I mumbled. I saw the expression on his face soften as he, too, remembered.</div>
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"Oh yeah, that," he resignedly muttered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
During the period when he and Natasha were fighting and his kids were falling apart, Eric began drinking heavily. He showed up at work drunk once, and although it was the first time ever in his twenty-odd years as foreman at the steel-slitting plant, he was fired. Without a job and his pension, Eric's family continued to detonate as he spun out of control.</div>
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I was the one who found him in his truck two days after he roughed up Natasha. She called me the day after he disappeared. She wasn't frantic, and by the bruises she showed me, it certainly made sense, but she did care enough to worry when he went missing.</div>
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Yeah, I was the one who found Eric, but what I found was a mess. Eric didn't remember the accident that left him pinned inside Natasha's sedan, but I suspected, from the number of empty beer bottles covering the floorboard, that he had blacked out before he wrecked. He was lucky that I thought to search along a dirt road outside of one of our favorite local campsites.</div>
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The set of muddy tire tracks I followed soon disappeared into roadside brush. Crashing through it, I came upon what should have been Eric's coffin. The front of Natasha's car was crushed all the way up to the windshield, and Eric's lower half was mixed in with the car's debris. It took the paramedics nearly two hours to cut him out of the wreckage.</div>
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I was also the one who cared for Eric during the following six months of physical therapy and AA meetings. I was between jobs back then, so I had the time and certainly the eagerness to help my best friend.</div>
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Using my truck, I drove Eric to his job interviews. Since her old beater was totaled in the wreck, Natasha commandeered Eric's pickup, which, once again, left him dependent upon me. I didn't mind, although driving and waiting in parking lots was irritating and boring. So many places turned him down because of his DUI-conviction and for reporting to work drunk. Only the utility board offered him the lineman's job, and they did so only because they were desperate to get a bunch of repairs done after a tornado wiped out a quarter of their business in our county.</div>
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Eric snapped us back to the present and changed the subject with, "So, the way I see it, Adam, is that we're at a crossroads, you and me. Although best of friends, we trip over each other as much as we help each other. I mean, look what happened this morning at breakfast. Heck, there's a whole side of me that you know nothing about. It's like you helped me find the job, but then washed your hands of me."</div>
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"Bull. We were both caught up with our own families' dramas. I tend to believe your and my distancing was coincidental; our friendship took a backseat to the nonsense going on around us. That's the way I prefer to remember it, anyway."</div>
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Eric sat quietly, somewhat deflated, before saying, "Fine, I see your point. I was afraid we had drifted apart, to the point of no return. After breakfast, I was convinced of it."</div>
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"What I'm hearing is that you were expecting this trip to make or break our friendship. Is that right?"</div>
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"Yes, in a nutshell."</div>
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"What a lousy fiftieth it'd be if I lost my best friend doing what we love to do together." A sincere grin spread across my face. "If nothing else kept us going, camping was our outlet – a way to clear our heads and reconnect with what's important."</div>
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"Unfortunately, we didn't seem to think our families were high on our list of priorities." Frustrated, he let out a long, slow breath and shook his head. "Gotta admit, our trips have also been escapes …"</div>
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"… which caused deeper rifts within our families."</div>
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"Yeah …," sighed Eric as he glanced at the two photos of his wife and kids inside the frame velcro'd to the dash. His mood instantly turned around, however, when he announced, "Here we are, boss. I hope you're ready for a trip we'll never forget."</div>
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<br /></div>
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* * * * *</div>
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Tomorrow, look for the post for Chapter 2.</div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-8542629678966855977?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-26154754987004977322012-09-01T23:11:00.001-04:002012-09-01T23:11:46.445-04:002012-09-01T23:11:46.445-04:00Buying Up Slots One Through Seven<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK11"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK10"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK8"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK7"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK6"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK5"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK4"></a>
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK4"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK3"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK4;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Buying Up Slots One Through Seven</span></b></span></a><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">by<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">LC Cooper<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Copyright, LC Cooper, 2011-2012, all rights reserved<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">A raunchy, irreverent, and satirical poem about writers who "rent" the top slots at FanStory in hopes of getting tons of favorable reader reviews. This is set to the music of Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven," so it matches the song's lyrical structure.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">I'm a lady who's told that I spin and weave gold</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And I'm buying up slots one through seven.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">When I get there I'll know 'cause the reviews will all glow</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">With your words you will say what I paid for</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Oh phoo, need more pumps for slots higher than seven</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">The sign on the wall says it's all horse manure</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">'Cause you know some on this site have been scheming</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Though I wrote a good book, it's doomed if it sinks,</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">No one reviews it if lower than seven.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Ouch, here comes more thunder,</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">A vicious reply from "daddyhummer…"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">"LC, you're full of shit, don't be such a pest,"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And my spirit is crushed, am I leaving?</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">On these pages I've seen much smoke blown between knees</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">For titles that read like one's blogging.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Ooh, it makes me wonder,</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Why some people write such chunder?</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">In phony whispers they swoon when their tripe shoots the moon</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And Recognition goes beyond reason</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">For some it will dawn, most still crave slot one</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And I nearly piss myself from laughter</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Though I could hustle and write now, I dutifully review "Tabby's Fat Cow"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Featured List attracts ego queens</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Yes, more member-cent pumps I will buy, 'cause in the long run</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Recognition comes from owning slot one</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Lack of ethics makes me wonder.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Your work is promoted, but it won't go, lack of reviews say so,</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Buy more cent pumps to entice them,</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">To get Recognition, I know, writers I must blow.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">When they read this, no doubt they will break wind…</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And spew reviews crushing my mood</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Owning The List is our first goal</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">I'll be the lady you all know</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Who won't write praise for rhymes we all know</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Everything I pen will turn to gold</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">"Cause the way I play my cards</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Rank One will be mine at last.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">When I won – winning is all</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">To own the ranks, no longer toil.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">…'Cause I now own all slots one through seven.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Author's Note:</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">This playful romp targets no one in particular. I'm concerned about a playground for writers and readers that is heavily biased toward those who financially invest in the process, regardless of the quality of the writing and, equally, the reviews.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">I rant to challenge all writers to submit your best, and test readers to produce meaningful, helpful, and constructive criticism. Integrity is compromised when we focus on the golden ring instead of enjoying the ride that gets us there.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">The following lyrics are to Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven," from the album "Led Zeppelin IV." They are included for comparison, if you wish, but I want to acknowledge the masterful stylings of Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, and John Bonham in their copyrighted work.</span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And she's buying the stairway to heaven. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">With a word she can get what she came for. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Ooh, ooh, and she's buying the stairway to heaven. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">There's a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">In a tree by the brook, there's a songbird who sings, </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Ooh, it makes me wonder, </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Ooh, it makes me wonder. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">There's a feeling I get when I look to the west, </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And my spirit is crying for leaving. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees, </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And the voices of those who stand looking. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Ooh, it makes me wonder, </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Ooh, it really makes me wonder. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And it's whispered that soon if we all call the tune </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Then the piper will lead us to reason. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And a new day will dawn for those who stand long </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And the forests will echo with laughter. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now, </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">It's just a spring clean for the May queen. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">There's still time to change the road you're on. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And it makes me wonder. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Your head is humming and it won't go, in case you don't know, </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">The piper's calling you to join him, </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Your stairway lies on the whispering wind. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And as we wind on down the road </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Our shadows taller than our soul. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">There walks a lady we all know </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">Who shines white light and wants to show </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">How everything still turns to gold. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">And if you listen very hard </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">The tune will come to you at last. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">When all are one and one is all </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">To be a rock and not to roll. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">…And she's buying a stirway to Heaven.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;">"Stairway to Heaven," music and lyrics © Led Zeppelin</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-2615475498700497732?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-85869705847227366172012-09-01T22:52:00.000-04:002012-09-01T22:52:33.061-04:002012-09-01T22:52:33.061-04:00The End of An Eagle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK8"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK7"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">The End of an Eagle<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">- Acrostic haiku<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">by<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">LC Cooper<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;">Copyright LC Cooper, 2011 – 2012, all rights reserved</span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK2"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK1"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">twitchy, blighted crows</span></a></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">heckle from atop dung heaps</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">eyes damp from laughter</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">eager fluff kittens</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">neatly dice and chew their prey</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">dare not rock the boat</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">old, dusty buzzard</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">feigns concern, but craps on food</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">arrogance won't change</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">nervous cygnets land</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">expecting friends, making few</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">alight when hope dies</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">garish crows, cats, hawk</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">look the same when shot out the</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK1;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">This acrostic haiku was my entry for a FanStory poetry contest. It summarizes what I think of the review-writing scam at FanStory.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-8586970584722736617?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-481688683455944162012-08-21T15:34:00.001-04:002012-08-21T15:34:22.769-04:002012-08-21T15:34:22.769-04:00Douglas County Libraries Refers Patrons to Bilbary. What About Smashwords?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Douglas County Libraries' (DCL) director, Jamie LaRue, is referring DCL's patrons to Bilbary for ebooks that aren't available within the county's library system (see ""</span><a href="http://douglascountylibraries.org/bilbary"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Buying Ebooks from Bilbary – Douglas County Libraries</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">"). Mentioned is the fact that the Big 6 are still rather unwilling to sell to libraries, and those that do, still place insidious and insipid demands on libraries. To circumvent traditional-publishing's buffoonery, DCL makes available, via Bilbary, ebooks that are published by some of the Big 6; Random house was Bilbary's latest addition.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bilbary's roots run deep within the sanctuary of the Big 6. Although a fledgling commercial venture, Bilbary is built on the backbone of Ingram Content Group. It does not loan ebooks for free; however, when a DCL patron buys an ebook from Bilbary, DCL claims it will receive 50% of the proceeds, which will supposedly be reinvested into titles from publishers other than the Big 6.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Enter Smashwords: This week, Smashwords will deliver, via its new </span><a href="http://blog.smashwords.com/2012/08/new-smashwords-direct-enables-libraries.html"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Library Direct</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> platform, an initial order of ebooks to DCL. Oddly, DCL's site makes no mention of its new relationship with Smashwords, but instead, focuses on gaining <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">indirect</i> access to Big-6 ebooks. So, Smashwords delivers best-of-class functionality once again, but the effort is downplayed – knocked from the limelight by the allure of Big-6 titles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am ecstatic that many well-branded authors are coming to Smashwords. How long will it be until the roles are reversed and Smashwords takes its rightful place in the catbird seat?</span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-48168868345594416?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-43139636955029316142012-08-19T23:28:00.000-04:002012-08-19T23:28:35.968-04:002012-08-19T23:28:35.968-04:00Smashwords' Tasty Upper Crust?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Recently, Smashwords.com's founder, Mark Coker, wrote and posted two releases to the Smashwords blog that target the library-lending markets (see "</span><a href="http://blog.smashwords.com/2012/08/new-smashwords-direct-enables-libraries.html"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">New Library Direct Enables Libraries to Acquire Large Opening Collections of Smashwords Ebooks</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">" and "</span><a href="http://blog.smashwords.com/2012/08/smashwords-pricing-manager-tool-enables.html"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Smashwords Pricing Manager Tool Enables Custom Library Pricing</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">." Smashwords' Library Direct offering allows libraries and library organizations to purchase a large quantity of ebooks from Smashwords. The second innovation gives authors the ability to set pricing for libraries differently, if desired, than retail pricing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">These innovations expose a departure from Smashwords' precedent-setting platform. When Smashwords came online and alive in 2008, it provided a neutral, level playing field where indie authors and publishers could publish all types of ebooks. Authors, retailers, and readers could coexist within the Smashwords environment. The ingenuity of Smashwords' Meatgrinder and relationships with retail partners crushed the gate-keeping practices of traditional publishing within 2 years of Smashwords going online. In 4 years, Smashwords has become the dominating force in indie publishing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is a shift underfoot as Smashwords matures. Today, libraries, and the buying power of their organizations and aggregators have become the bedfellows in the quest for incremental revenue. Realizing the future potential from gaining access to libraries and their patrons, startups like Bilbary and Jellybooks aspire to capture market share, but Smashwords clearly demonstrates the strongest position in the marketplace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Within the gooey center of the Smashwords pie, 45,000 authors elbow and jostle each other as they vie for very few reader dollars. This heart of Smashwords has already become generic and rather plain-tasting as over 100,000 titles crowd the ebook shelves. The once-vital heart wallows between bland layers of muck and mediocre marketing. Instead of focusing on improving the quality of their ebooks, many authors practice screwing over each other by price slashing. Every once in a while, an author's bubble of creativity quietly rises to the top, raising the ire of the rest of the authors struggling within the tar pit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There is a crust forming atop Smashwords' pie. Tasty, light, and flaky, this addition sounds absolutely scrumptious, but is it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Those authors that bubble to the top are getting to participate in Smashwords' Library Direct program. My impression is that, although slow out the gate, Library Direct will entice libraries and library organizations to place large initial purchases, and do so by cherry-picking from among the most popular ebook titles and authors at Smashwords. Popularity is defined in terms of sales dollars, not reader-reviews and rankings. Although professional reviews may play a role, Mark Coker has remained quiet regarding how the selection criteria are defined.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Where Smashwords' design delivers all approved titles to retail partners, its new Library Direct model, which represents a departure from status-quo neutrality, segregates and rewards high-performing authors with access to library patrons. These additional exposures help these preferred authors build their platforms and increase income. The majority of Smashwords' 45,000 anemically-performing authors, of which I am one, are not, by design, invited to participate in Library Direct, and thus, are denied access to library patrons. Library Direct replicates the traditional library-supplier model that plagues authors today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I see it, a light and flaky upper crust is forming at Smashwords. To make the high-performers titles even tastier to libraries and library aggregators, Smashwords created a pricing tool that permits authors to price their ebook titles differently (probably lower) for libraries than what a retail customer will pay for an ebook. This offering benefits only the high-performing author. The strategy is that if a strong author wants to get her/his entire backlist of ebooks into libraries, then s/he should drop the price significantly for each title offered to libraries.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Since the vast majority of Smashwords' authors can't make it past the first hurdle of being a top performer, the library-pricing tool, then, becomes pointless. Having said this, its existence, however, allows promising authors the ability to change their library price on the fly so that libraries will snatch up their rising titles at bargain prices.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Back in March of this year, a blog post I wrote, entitled, "</span><a href="http://www.publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com/2012/03/legacy-publishers-poised-to-fight-back.html"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Legacy Publishers Poised to Fight Back: Do Silos Spell the End to Self-Publishing?</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">" generated a lively discussion about the past, present, and future of ebook publishing, including a couple of possible outcomes of Smashwords' success. Smashwords' Library Direct program and its library-pricing tool dovetail nicely with the shared thoughts about Smashwords' evolution.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Quite a few folks commented on the Smashwords' blog regarding Mark Coker's announcements about Library Direct and the library-pricing tool. What I wrote in today's post is my take-away from that thread (to which I posted two comments). Admittedly, I was frustrated that Mark Coker avoided answering my questions; specifically those where I requested information about the detailed criteria for inclusion in the Library Direct program, and the intent behind the design of the library-pricing tool.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What's on the horizon?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Smashwords is following the traditional business lifecycle. Beyond innovation and implementation, it's moving into the maturity phase, where decisions are made to differentiate its products and services from its competitors. My prediction is that Smashwords will soon offer better-than-normal royalty rates (and even possibly tiered rates based upon incremental volume sales) to celebrity and high-profile authors to jump ship from competitors and/or to retain profitable authors and publishers on the Smashwords platform.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I predict that within the next five years, one of the Big 6 or another type of competitor will buy out Mark Coker's controlling share of Smashwords. That's the retirement scenario. Another possibility is that as the ebook market matures, Smashwords will come to a point where it has to decide if it wants to remain the big fish in a diminishing pond, or grow larger to satisfy the needs of the new marketplace. Without deep pockets of its own, Smashwords' management team may decide to take Smashwords public to generate investment capital or to fend off a buy-out threat. All it takes, then, is for an investor to purchase a majority share of Smashwords' stock and the entire landscape changes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">All I know for today is that Smashwords is maturing. I believe that its Library Direct offering and the library-pricing tool represent Smashwords' next salvo in its efforts to establish itself as the new legacy publishing model. In ten-or-so years, who will be the young visionary who leads the revolution that knocks Smashwords from its conceivable gatekeeper and patriarchal roles? The business cycle dictates this will be the outcome.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Nervy times we live in, but I'm sure enjoying being in the thick of the publishing revolution!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Take care,</span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-4313963695502931614?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-21798750258053772912012-08-07T12:33:00.000-04:002012-08-07T12:38:27.639-04:002012-08-07T12:38:27.639-04:00Bilbary Updates: Author Contract and Random House Deal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Bilbary signed a deal with Random House. <span class="meta-author"><a href="http://goodereader.com/blog/author/michael-kozlowski/" rel="author" title="Posts by Michael Kozlowski">Michael Kozlowski</a> summarized the scope and outlook while adding some very interesting comments about Bilbary's position in the marketplace.</span><br />
<span class="meta-author"></span> <a href="http://goodereader.com/blog/e-book-news/bilbary-now-carrying-random-house-ebook-titles/">http://goodereader.com/blog/e-book-news/bilbary-now-carrying-random-house-ebook-titles/</a><br />
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Some of the issues I have with Bilbary's supplier (author) contract have been addressed within its July update to the contract. However, remaining to be resolved is a problem within section 5, specific to the "Taxes" section. Within it, Bilbary expressly states it owns all submitted titles.<br />
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I pursued the issue with Bilbary management and have been assured that senior management and lawyers will act to define more clearly this section so that copyright and content owners, publishers, and/or representative agents won't have to fight this one out with Bilbary in the courts or through arbitration. I was told that this "Taxes" section is governed by the contents of the entire contract, where ownership is clearly defined within a different section. However, it would be difficult for authors to defend their ownership rights when s/he signed a contract that states Bilbary owns all titles.<br />
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As such, I requested that Bilbary modify the "Taxes" section to state something like, "For tax-reporting purposes only, Bilbary is legally required to state that it owns the titles. Because the scope of this definition applies to tax-reporting only. It does not constitute a legally-binding transfer of content and copyright and/or other intellectual-property rights from content owners, their distributors and/or representation to Bilbary."<br />
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I'll share their reply as soon as I get one.<br />
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Take care,<br />
LC<br />
<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-2179875025805377291?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-19604827163055919882012-07-08T23:49:00.000-04:002012-07-10T22:34:04.189-04:002012-07-10T22:34:04.189-04:00There Was a Knock at the Door<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK9"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK8"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">There Was a Knock at the Door</span></b></span></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">by</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">LC Cooper</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">Copyright LC Cooper 2011</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">Published by LC Cooper at Smashwords</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Smashwords Edition, License Notes</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">This free ebook may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK3"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK7"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK56"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK57"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">Also by<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LC Cooper, published at Smashwords and other fine retailers: </span></span></span></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK31"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK30"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK31;"></span></a></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/124601"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK30;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK31;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Diary of a Reluctant Vampire</i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK30;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK31;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK30;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK31;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17743"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Legacy</i></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK6"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK5"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span></a></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/155836"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Man Cave</i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/101256"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Simmering Consequences</i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/28720"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Voices of Cellar's Bridge</i></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK10"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK4"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"</span></a></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/172055"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK4;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">Barefoot Homecoming</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK4;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK4;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK4;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/37861"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">Dan's Accidental Convertible</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/27799"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween's Perfect Storm</i></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/33221"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">Of Yellow Snow and Christmas Balls</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/39559"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">One Lousy Wish</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"></span><br />
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">* * * *</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"></span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">T</span></b>here was a knock at the door. Before she could yell out, I clamped my hand over my daughter's mouth. She struggled to get away, but the gravity of recent events overwhelmed her desire to call out a cheery, blissful greeting. I looked across the table at my wife. Quiet, fearful, and grief-stricken sobbing replaced her beaming smile.</div>
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Several more knocks followed. Each series was more forceful and agitated than the last. Two days had passed without incident. I thought we were in the free and clear. Prior to these last few moments, we shared not only dinner, but also a healing conversation. My wife believed, and I prayed, that our family would survive this nightmare. The fear of who was knocking reminded us, however, of the tenuous bond that held our family together. They were in control and we knew it. The knowledge that their power was unrestricted burned in my skull.</div>
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Still, no matter the terror, we refused to answer the door. More than nervous, the three of us were scared motionless. Silent glances at the front door replaced our desire to scream, "Leave us alone!" My grip on my wife and daughter's hands grew tighter.</div>
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Admittedly, it was difficult for me to hold my daughter's, but we were a family and I was determined to drive that point home. My heart was pounding and the adrenaline coursed through my body. Attempts to show stoic determination were undermined by my inability to control my trembling hands. With a caring squeeze, I let go of my wife and daughter's clinging grasps. I had to show my family that I could get myself together. It was important to recover what was left of my dignity.</div>
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Acting unfazed by the incessant knocking, I pretended to eat, but the spoon slid out of my shaking fingers and disappeared beneath the dark broth of the vegetable soup. My wife's forgiving and caring glance told me she understood. I was so glad to have her on my side.</div>
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They, again, pounded on the door, but refused to announce themselves or say anything to us. We knew it was them, and they knew we were inside. How could they not know? Prior to that first knock, we had been laughing and carrying on so loudly that our upstairs neighbor came down to ask us to be quiet. Playful, loud giddiness clearly announced our presence. We were alive and together, which was all that mattered. Even our daughter appeared relieved and sweet again.</div>
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That was before the knocking began. I carefully stroked her hair as she rested her forehead on the table. Her forearms covered her ears. My wife's shocked expression told me she was feeling the same unnerving sensation. She opened her mouth to scream, but stopped when I put my finger to her lips. Those sweet, soft lips should never have endured this torture.</div>
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Faith drained from my body as the knocks reverberated, unopposed, throughout our home. It felt as if the knocks were sentinels, sent ahead to locate our exact position. Once discovered, these invaders amassed in our dining room, hacking at the remnants of our already-strained bonds.</div>
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Expecting the front door's frame to shatter from the deafening blows, the last few knocks were surprisingly soft and oddly timid. Had these monsters grown tired of their game?</div>
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Emboldened, I rationalized the weakening knocks had to be because they didn't have a warrant. Without such a means of gaining entry into our home, they realized they were unsuccessful at wearing us down. I remembered my lawyer said that without a warrant, they were only allowed in if we opened the door to them. Expecting, though dreading the knocks, we finally understood that we had the upper hand by not answering the door. As small and insignificant that revelation was, it was still a victory for us. God knows we needed this win. After all, it had only been two days since I was arrested.</div>
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From jail, during a phone call with my attorney, she explained that because of the country's economic collapse and because this was an election year, every state and federal agency was fighting to survive.</div>
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In order to justify their existence, the director of Child Protective Services (CPS) invested a huge chunk of their budget on a gamble. They created a set of television ads aimed at generating fear and suspicion. The rationalization was that if CPS could get enough people to call in reports of child abuse, the startling increase in numbers would justify the need to retain CPS.</div>
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CPS' television ads featured a girl acting afraid of her parent. The girl shook and trembled as she cowered. She held her arms over her head to protect it from further trauma. My daughter saw this series of ads. My wife and I explained their intent, but, as it turned out, our daughter chose to hear a different message.</div>
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A week later, we (my daughter, wife, and I) went grocery shopping. My wife led the way. Our daughter begrudgingly pushed the cart while I brought up the rear. Our daughter was irritable and edgy that morning, having lost computer privileges for hitting the neighbor's dog with a stick.</div>
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Stuck behind my daughter and the cart, I watched in shock as my daughter rammed the shopping cart into my wife's legs. The attack was so violent and deliberate that it dropped my wife to the floor. Blood streaked out from where the cart hit a few inches above her ankles.</div>
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After caring for my wife and helping her to her feet, I turned to deal with our daughter. I grabbed her coat collar and bent down to lecture her. As if on cue, she threw her hands up over her face and shook them – all the while scanning the aisle for sympathetic onlookers.</div>
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A group of gathering women, who ran over to us when they heard my wife scream as she fell, whipped out their mobile phones. Some recorded me grabbing my daughter's coat collar as well as her staged reaction. Two called the police.</div>
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Armed with such incriminating evidence, I was handcuffed and brusquely shoved into the back of a police cruiser. I stared out the window at my daughter and yelled, "Why?" Her satisfied grin told me all I needed to know. In her own childish and selfish way, she was punishing me for taking away her computer privilege.</div>
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I watched out the cruiser's back window as my wife screamed and cried, begging the officers to release me. "It'll be up to a judge to decide, ma'am," was all the cops said. They hopped into their front seats and began to drive away. I, handcuffed, pressed my face against the side window when my wife pushed the palm of her hand against it. We were desperate to make a connection, no matter how feeble.</div>
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Later that afternoon, the cops completed their initial investigation and allowed our daughter to stay with my wife in our home as long as both of my in-laws were present. CPS agents, posing as caring social workers, violated our home twice to inspect and ensure their controls were strictly adhered to.</div>
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I was jailed overnight, booked on charges of child abuse. The jailer took my wallet and other personal effects and put them in a bag. I reluctantly slid the wedding ring off my finger and kissed it. I never saw it again. Once released and given back my things, I wasn't surprised when the jailer claimed I never put my wedding ring in the bag.</div>
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CPS didn't bother to interview me. They had all the evidence they felt they needed. Being an upper-middle-class family, our good name was smeared across the airwaves and newspapers as a result of CPS' bloodthirsty press release. Each story's tag line mentioned the need for more CPS staff to help assume some of the added burden from bloated caseloads. To make themselves look like heroes of the people, CPS' spokesperson blamed the terrible economy for frustrations that go too far. The bastards spun the situation to appear that America is one big family and that we all need to encourage helping each other by reporting possibly abusive situations.</div>
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After being released from jail, under the pretense of giving me a ride home, my lawyer briefed me<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>on what to expect from CPS and the court system. Nothing she said prepared me for what awaited me when I arrived home.</div>
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Minutes of shared silence passed as my wife and I sat pressed against each other on the study's sofa, our fingers woven tightly together. Sighing, she lifted her head, and then locked her sad, drenched eyes on mine. She whispered that my boss had called before lunch. My stomach tightened, and I grasped her hand even tighter, dreading the words I knew were coming.</div>
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I was fired from my career of twenty-seven years. In my line of work, an arrest meant instant job-termination. Justified or not, a criminal blemish was considered a high-risk security threat for my employer. I was their Vice President of Human Resources. I had fired a number of people over the years for smaller infractions than this. I knew forgiveness was not an option.</div>
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I broke down, sobbing, "How could our daughter do this to me … to us?"</div>
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Then, once I pulled myself together, I told her that after I walked out of the police station, I was accosted by two CPS thugs. Although they begrudgingly admitted that our daughter had come clean, since I had been reported to CPS, they had three days to complete and close their investigation. This meant we could expect frequent visits from other CPS "social workers," and we had to call in our every movement during this timeframe.</div>
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It's been almost a year since then, but we're ruined. Financially, we haven't been able to recover from CPS' raping. I was never able to get my record expunged because I was labeled as a potential threat to society. So, I follow behind a truck every Monday and Thursday, emptying trashcans into it. Other days, I'm a dishwasher at a couple of restaurants. My wife, who never had to work a day in her life, is a substitute teacher and gives piano lessons on the weekends.</div>
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Ashamed and overwhelmed, our daughter never tried that trick again, but the damage was done. All her pretty things were sold at auction, along with our foreclosed home and our dearest heirlooms. She also lost her friends as their parents wanted nothing to do with any of us. My wife and I refuse to let CPS violate us again, so we <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>live in our car, appreciating its flexibility, but acknowledging that the real reason is that we can't afford to rent a home. With time on my hands, I often sit on a dock, letting my feet dangle above the water, staring at my empty ring finger, and dreaming of what could have been.</div>
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Whenever we see a cop car, we melt into the scenery. Sure, we're paranoid. We've been violated by the Gestapo of the United States of America. Once the hunter, I can't help but feel we've become the hunted. </div>
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Nothing became of CPS' final report about my case. However, the press that CPS received as a result of my arrest was the crowning jewel in their presentation to Congress, which granted CPS a significantly larger budget. Their gamble paid off handsomely, but at what price to American families?</div>
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"When governments fear the people, there is liberty. When the people fear the government, there is tyranny."</div>
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-- Thomas Jefferson</div>
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Author's Note:</div>
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I wrote "There Was a Knock at the Door" in response to a challenge to write a short story that began with the line, "There was a knock at the door." This is not a personal story, but a work of fiction derived from a collection of news stories I saw on TV. The driving force was, of course, those vile ads created by CPS (and their ilk) which clogged the airwaves for a couple of years.</div>
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While writing this story, I imagined the shocked and panicked look on parents' faces as they watched those ads. I also imagined the faces of a number of children who eagerly jumped at the chance to apply the techniques and methods they learned from these same ads.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized that related headline-grabbing stories always positioned CPS as a hero, but time after time, I saw a devastated family reeling from a tragedy, only to be finished off by the callous hounds of CPS. The profile of my story's protagonist was based on a simultaneous pair of investigative stories. In one, a minority pre-teen was set ablaze when he got too close to his careless uncle's unattended backyard barbecue grill. The uncle had left to grab a beer. CPS' spokesperson said there wouldn't be an investigation. During the same newscast, however, a very well-known couple was arrested because their toddler was found dead, drowned in their community's pond. The interviewed CPS agent was nearly frothing at the mouth, wild-eyed and eager to put this feather in her cap. Then, along came a story of a different CPS agent found murdered – her death came at the hands of a family that she pushed over the brink. They were willing to go to jail in order to eliminate this woman's further poisoning.</div>
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Thank you for your interest and your time.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK20"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK15"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="work_these_into_story"></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"> Not meaning to come across as pretentious, but I truly hope you didn’t enjoy reading this story. Instead, I pray you take Thomas Jefferson's words to heart and pressure our state and federal governments to ban CPS/DCS/DHS' terrorist tactics. These departments are supposed to protect, not destroy, American families.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;">I would appreciate it if you would visit my </span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;">author's page</span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"> within Smashwords.com. There, you can learn more about me and discover my novels and short stories. There, you will find a romcom, some action/adventure stories, and a few comedies. </span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK16"></a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/" name="OLE_LINK19"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK16;"></span></a></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK19;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK16;">http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper</span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK19;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK16;"></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK16;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK19;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"></span><br />
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Also by<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LC Cooper, published at Smashwords and other fine retailers: </div>
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<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/123571"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Christmess</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/124601"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Diary of a Reluctant Vampire</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17743"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Legacy</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/155836"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Man Cave</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/101256"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Simmering Consequences</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/28720"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Voices of Cellar's Bridge</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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"<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/172055">Barefoot Homecoming</a>"</div>
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"<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/37861">Dan's Accidental Convertible</a>"</div>
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"<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/27799"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween's Perfect Storm</i></a>"</div>
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"<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/33221">Of Yellow Snow and Christmas Balls</a>"</div>
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"<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/39559">One Lousy Wish</a>"</div>
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<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-1960482716305591988?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-20569627433307849662012-07-06T23:15:00.000-04:002012-07-06T23:15:35.592-04:002012-07-06T23:15:35.592-04:00RAM Partners LLC: Bend Over and Take It?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">RAM Partners LLC bullied their way into my life two weeks ago, and I hope they are soon fired. From my experiences, I believe they are a poor excuse for a property-management company. Here are my specific complaints:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>Rude</u>: While the ink was still drying on their contract with our property's owners, RAM Partners LLC's staff should have gone out of their way to introduce themselves to all of us – their ultimate customers – after all, we, the tenants, pay their salaries. Instead, during the "transition to RAM Partners LLC," I was snubbed and eyed suspiciously whenever I approached the office staff. Not once did they lower themselves to be courteous or introduce themselves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>Eliminated Mosquito Spraying</u>: Immediately after grabbing power at our apartment complex, RAM Partners LLC stopped the weekly spraying of the property's grounds for mosquitoes, even though a number of local suburbs tested positive for West Nile virus, which is spread by mosquitoes. For two weeks, they didn't spray and didn't bother to tell us or ask our opinion, as we are those most affected and exposed – the tenants - customers. I only found out today when I called and asked. I got a sheepish, "oh, well!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>Reduced Customer Access</u>: A selling feature of this property is a small garden area that has been accessible 24/7. RAM Partners LLC locked all gate access to this garden area under the guise of controlling pool access. It is my belief that RAM Partners LLC is all about controlling and suppressing customers. In this case, the courtesy officer could certainly be called if the pool was being used after hours. Instead, RAM cut off access to the entire area. Now, anyone wanting to get to the workout room or business office between 10:00 p.m. and 8:00 a.m. must enter through an ugly side entrance and not via the now-locked and gated garden entrance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>Now Difficult to Pay Rent</u>: We can no longer pay rent using a credit/debit card in the office. We must either pay via check (who uses checks anymore?) or via RAM Partners LLC's idiotic website that doesn't even work!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>Charging Kids for Popsicles</u>: As summer approached, the previous managers provided free popsicles to resident children. For a measly $3.00, they gave 100 children a smile on a hot day. However, RAM Partners LLC stopped the practice for a week, and only reinstated it after announcing it was charging 25 cents for each popsicle taken. Since a popsicle only costs 3 cents each, then RAM Partners LLC ;ockets 22 cents in profit off of each smiling face. How's that for making an impression?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>Stopped the Pool Party</u>: Previous management scheduled a pool party that, once in power, RAM Partners LLC canceled. Rescheduled or canceled outright? Only RAM Partners LLC knows.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Many of us in this community chose this particular property for its amenities and friendliness of the staff, when it was under prior management. I am convinced RAM Partners LLC has brought nothing positive to the relationship between customer-tenants and the property owners. RAM Partners LLC's stance appears to be adversarial – like a wolf in sheep's clothing.</span></div>
Thank you for taking the time to read my experiences. Please share what you've had to put up with from RAM Partners LLC.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-2056962743330784966?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-7318572451127456302012-06-29T17:16:00.001-04:002012-06-29T17:16:04.086-04:002012-06-29T17:16:04.086-04:00JellyBooks - A New eBook PlatformIn prior posts, I described Bilbary's offering and potential pitfalls for authors. I just learned about Jellybooks - another new beta distribution/marketing model for ebooks. As of today, its publishing partners are:<br />
<li><a href="http://www.profilebooks.com/profile-books">Profile Books</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.profilebooks.com/the-economist-books">The Economist Books</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.serpentstail.com/">Serpent’s Tail</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.profilebooks.com/the-clerkenwell-press/">The Clerkenwell Press</a></li>
<br />
Overview:<br />
<span style="background-color: silver;">Jellybooks offers readers the ability to sample 10% of an ebook and then forward the sample to her/his friends via email, Twitter, and other networking services. Registration is not required, but is encouraged through discounts to purchase ebooks at third-party retailers (including Amazon KDP Shop and Apple Tunes store). Membership is free. Jellybooks claims it won't allow onsite advertising.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: silver;">Benefits to Registering (from Jellybooks' Help pages):</span><br />
<li>A personal cloud library called “My Books”</li>
<li>One-click (instead of two-click) download for samples</li>
<li>Cloud-based access to your personal samples from any device</li>
<li>Customized book recommendations</li>
<li>Sweet deals</li>
<br />
<span style="background-color: silver;">Jellybooks states it's only interested in publishing partners that list 50 or more titles (<a href="http://www.linkedin.com/company/jellybooks">http://www.linkedin.com/company/jellybooks</a>).</span><br />
<br />
Check out Don Bodie's overview of both Jellybooks and Bilbary:<br />
<a href="http://www.killerstartups.com/startup-spotlight/jellybooks-and-bilbary-startups-are-hot-off-the-press/">http://www.killerstartups.com/startup-spotlight/jellybooks-and-bilbary-startups-are-hot-off-the-press/</a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-731857245112745630?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-36112199804244243092012-06-24T20:01:00.000-04:002012-06-24T20:01:53.275-04:002012-06-24T20:01:53.275-04:00Nicolas Cage a Vampire? Check out Mara WilsonNot so long ago, Nicolas Cage playfully batted away rumors that he's a vampire. Although the likeness was remarkable, he claimed the photo, taken in the mid-1800s, couldn't have been him (Nicolas) because he shows up in film. Yeah, well, so did the soldier in that Civil-War-period photo. So much for your argument, Nicolas, or should I say, "Vlad."<br />
<br />
Further exploding the myth that vampires cannot appear in photos or film is the case of Mara Wilson. "What," you might ask, "the heck does Mara Wilson have to do with vampires?" <br />
<br />
Well, it was rumored that she turned down lead roles in "Twilight" and "Buffy ..." because they hit too close to home. Instead, she selected roles that were so smarmy that audiences would be fooled by her charm (a la "Miracle on 34th Street" and "Matilda"). Well, her's is a thin disguise, for Mara Wilson, it is rumored, might be no other than "Little Sure Shot" - the infamous Annie Oakley.<br />
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If this rumor is true, she's at least 152 years old (and, my oh my, she looks great for 152). Must be some amazing kinda age-defying lotion she's using ... or she's a vampire!<br />
<br />
Go ahead and see for yourself - the likeness is uncanny.<br />
Mara Wilson:<br />
<a href="http://press.comedycentral.co.uk/daily-fix/where-are-they-now/mara-wilson-from-miracle-on-34th-street">http://press.comedycentral.co.uk/daily-fix/where-are-they-now/mara-wilson-from-miracle-on-34th-street</a><br />
<br />
Annie Oakley:<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Annie_Oakley">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Annie_Oakley</a><br />
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I'm guessing Annie grew tired of the limelight and the same old thing, so she faked her death, took off for a few dozen years so folks would forget, and reinvented herself as Mara Wilson.<br />
<br />
No doubt Annie retained her cutie-pie image and knowledge of acting to springboard into modern film in the 1990s, at a time when music and film were sucking wind and in desperate need of a breath of fresh air. In struts li'l old Annie Oakley as Mara Wilson.<br />
<br />
While I was perusing the 'net today, I ran across a page of information about Mara Wilson. One might think it was innocent and coincidental, but tucked away in a corner of the page was an ad for a Nicolas Cage movie. See for yourself: <a href="http://articles.chicagotribune.com/keyword/mara-wilson/featured/4">http://articles.chicagotribune.com/keyword/mara-wilson/featured/4</a><br />
<br />
Since Mara and Nicolas are helping each other out with co-op advertising, I'm guessing their from the same vampire clan.<br />
<br />
Apparently, not only viruses can mutate, but so can vampires! They have evolved to be able to appear in film, and if you look at all the photos taken of Annie Oakley as far back as the late 1880s, vampires have been able to perform this feat for at least 150 years!<br />
<br />
I'm mulling over a theory that this invisible-in-film thing was fabricated by vampires in order to remain hidden within the public-at-large. I wonder what other supposed "facts" about vampires were myths created by vampires to protect themselves.<br />
<br />
Please don't take this seriously, folks. I'm just poking fun - twisting around the Nicolas Cage story to point out how similar Mara Wilson looks like Annie Oakley.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-3611219980424424309?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-22287043985418813942012-06-14T21:47:00.000-04:002012-06-14T21:47:21.919-04:002012-06-14T21:47:21.919-04:00Barefoot Homecoming<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<a href="" name="OLE_LINK9"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK8"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Barefoot Homecoming</span></b></span></a></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">by</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">LC Cooper</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">Copyright LC Cooper June 1, 2012</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">Published by LC Cooper at Smashwords</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Smashwords Edition, License Notes</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">This free ebook may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><a href="" name="OLE_LINK3"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK7"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK56"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK57"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">Also by<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LC Cooper, published at Smashwords and other fine retailers: </span></span></span></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/123571"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Christmess</i></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><a href="" name="OLE_LINK31"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK30"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK31;"></span></a></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/124601"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK30;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK31;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Diary of a Reluctant Vampire</i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK30;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK31;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK30;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK31;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17743"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Legacy</i></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><a href="" name="OLE_LINK6"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK5"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span></a></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/155836"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Man Cave</i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/101256"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Simmering Consequences</i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK6;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK5;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/28720"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Voices of Cellar's Bridge</i></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/37861"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">Dan's Accidental Convertible</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/27799"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween's Perfect Storm</i></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/33221"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">Of Yellow Snow and Christmas Balls</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/39559"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">One Lousy Wish</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK57;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK56;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK7;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK3;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK9;">* * * *</span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">T</span></b>he rarified stench, blistered with acid-drenched vapor, corkscrewed through my nostrils. Whatever air that remained fueled the inferno raking the insides of my gasping chest. Distracted by shock, my brain took the time to reason the source was burnt plastic and molten metals. A hellish burst of searing heat combined with a roiling fireball was consuming everything flammable. Hopeless wailings and primal screams, both similar in frustration and agony, were equally snuffed, and done so without regard for rank, stature, or pleas for mercy.</div>
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Scared and sad, I reached for, and thankfully found, my husband and children. Although crying and in pain, we were together, having beaten the odds that separated and consumed the others. My distraction became a smile, but only for a moment. My bittersweet euphoria was jarred by a thunderous crack and a blinding flash.</div>
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Happily, yet groggily, I shook off the lethargy that had kept me impaled on this nightmare's claw. Sweet jasmine threaded and weaved passages through the charred embers of the fading memory. I gasped and my chest heaved as my subconscious desperately purged all traces of the horror. I exhaled, gagging. Instinctively, I turned my head and retched, but nothing came up. The sensations, however severe, disappeared and I was again able to breathe normally.</div>
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Trembling from the aftermath and praying for reality, I crushed my eyelids closed as another round of blinding light flashed across my face. As I lie on my back, I flailed to the left and right of me in hopes of finding my husband in bed next to me. He wasn't there. Instead, a dark shadow moved across my clenched-tight eyelids. I feared the approach of another wave of terror.</div>
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"Time to get up, Sleepyhead," my husband quietly, but firmly, said as he reached down to take my hand into his.</div>
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Feeling the warmth of his touch brought a much-relieved smile to my face. I now didn't want to open my eyes as I was enjoying the astonishment and peaceful sensation of having survived such a terrifying ordeal. A glow began in my body and transferred to my husband's via our held hands.</div>
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"Why are you shivering?" he asked. "Everything's okay."</div>
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Panicked, I replied with, "Where are the girls? Is everyone here?" After asking, I immediately thought they should be at school, but remembered we were together for this move. "Are they here?" I meekly repeated.</div>
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"Look around you, Baby. we're all here and doing fine." He glanced up, still holding my hand, took a deep breath, gazed down into my eyes, and said, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tell you what, take a minute to gather your thoughts and then join us for the walk. They're waiting for us."</div>
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Again, I smiled. A walk with my family, on such a bright and peaceful day, seemed a perfect transition out of the funk of the fear, dread, and shock I had just endured. "Sounds great," I replied. "Give me a moment to get myself together."</div>
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My husband nodded, smiled, and moved out of view. He was within earshot, which helped keep my raw nerves calm. I focused my thoughts on the future and gladly let go of the cruelness and misery that brought us to this point.</div>
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The first thing I noticed as we walked was how spongy and comfortable the soil felt beneath my feet and between my toes. The sensation made me giggle. With each step, I felt a mixture of warm, dry peat and soothing, cool sand. Our procession stopped as I bent down slightly to stare at my toes as they wriggled in the satisfying concoction.</div>
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Just as I muttered, "this is amazing," a burst of clean spring air wafted past my face and swirled around us. The blend of cool, fresh winter and arid summer carried the strong perfume of gardenias and orange blossoms. Both heady and pungent, in this incarnation, their mix was complementary. The kids squealed with delight.</div>
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"I can't remember the last time I felt so alive, so relaxed," I reluctantly mumbled.</div>
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"We've been gone too long," my husband added. "In some ways, though, it seems like we never left."</div>
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"How so? It's been a pretty rough trip until now. I can't remember anything this comfortable since … well, since we were last here."</div>
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"All of this," he said with a sweep of his arm, "never left me. This place is exactly as I remember it."</div>
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"Wow, your memory is much better than mine," I enviously grumbled. "There I always stayed so distracted; I guess I forgot." I took a nostalgic pause to reflect on the echo of flavors, smells, and occasional image that had consumed so many years. I shook my head and wistfully<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>sighed, "I honestly don't recall much. Life's been such a blur until today."</div>
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"Our girls probably remember being here because they're so young. Their heads aren't dulled and full of cynical mush, negative energy, and anxieties. I'd be willing to bet they retained most details of our last visit better than we did." My husband grinned as he lightly squeezed my left hand and the right of our oldest daughter.</div>
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"I never imagined we'd have to give away everything to come back here," I said as a wave of melancholy punched me in the gut, desperate to cling to the past.</div>
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As the rising sun burned off the morning mist, we all gasped as comfortable familiarity surged into the present, blending with images ahead. The outlines of stone walls and iron gates were the first signs we were home.</div>
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Decorated with vines, but not burdened with overgrowth, the gleaming-white stucco-on-brick structures were pleasant and inviting. This entrance, a departure from most, was devoid of the blasé oppressive and twisted wrought-iron fencing and snarling crowning gargoyles. We were not to be scared off. I puffed out my chest with pride. We were invited.</div>
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"Is that Gabriella?" I gasped, incredulous that someone resembling my old best friend was coming into view. "It can't be, of course," I mumbled with astonishment. "She's been dead for at least a dozen years."</div>
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"I saw her, too," my husband whispered in agreement. "If it's not her, the resemblance is uncanny. Oh, look, honey, whoever it is must know us – she's smiling and waving."</div>
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I replied with a polite, but quick, wave. "I'd like to find her later to see how much she does look like Gabriella. Might be worth a photo or two." I instinctively reached for the camera that was always slung over my shoulder, but it was gone. Disappointed to have left it behind, I shrugged my shoulders and said, "There will be plenty of time to get acquainted and take pictures. We're home, after all. It's not like we'll be moving again anytime soon."</div>
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"Mom!" exclaimed our youngest, "Grandma's here! Grandma's here!" She tugged at my sleeve, awkwardly pulling me forward, and I reflexively yanked my husband's hand; an action that caused my husband to stumble as one would when tripping over a small stone. Recovering, he smirked and asked, "What's your hurry? Relax and take it all in. Grandma's been expecting us. Like old times, I'm certain she'll have cookies and hot cocoa ready for the two of you."</div>
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"I know! That's why I want you guys to hurry up!"</div>
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My husband and I exchanged awkward glances – the kind that confess a degree of nervousness and resigned reluctance. We smiled at each other and simultaneously breathed out - letting go.</div>
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I playfully chided our adolescent daughter. "Like Daddy said, let's enjoy our walk. We have plenty of time to get caught up with everyone." It felt like I was more concerned with convincing myself than tempering my child's exuberance.</div>
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"Take your time," our eldest softly echoed. Strangely, she kept looking back over her shoulder. I wondered was she afraid or was she longing for something.</div>
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My husband lightly tugged on her hand and said, "It's okay. We're together and everything's going to be fine. We're almost there. Please, let's enjoy the rest of the walk."</div>
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And so we did. As we strode through the open gateway, I playfully flicked at a scrap of cracked and peeling stucco, which fluttered to the ground. The exposed brown and red brick shined with the newness of having been awakened from a long, peaceful slumber. A gust carried away an adjacent and much larger stucco patch, and I felt guilty for it, as if my carelessness was responsible for the erosion of the beautiful garden wall. Was this a metaphor that my presence was similarly cancerous? Why did my unintended action result in the premature deterioration of something so majestic? I frowned – once again unsure I belonged.</div>
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My husband whispered, "You and the wall are okay. Come along, Angela." Remorseful and timid, I scurried to catch up.</div>
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It seemed odd that we passed through the open gate without yet encountering a soul. After shrugging our shoulders, we peered down each of the alleys, deciding to continue straight toward where we believed the town's center stood.</div>
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Stucco two-story homes lined the narrow, earthen-brick street. Gentle music fell from the open windows; flamingo and turquoise curtains swayed to the steady rhythms. Soothing aromas of simmering spiced beans and rice flowed out the doorways, past the heavy, dried pine doors, and into my nose, awakening my very hungry stomach. I was too excited and nervous to pay it any attention.</div>
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Our youngest stopped to stare at a petite waterfall, trickling from a wall and onto a lily-pad pond. The pool's crystal-lined bottom glistened as little fingers playfully disturbed the mid-morning sun's dance with the waterfall. Lit-up drops flew off our youngest's hands and shimmered as they created ripples on the clear surface.</div>
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"Strange," I began to think, but was interrupted by the playful banter of three kookaburras flittering overhead. "Ah, yes, that's better," I thought, grinning as I watched my favorite birds until they passed behind <a href="" name="OLE_LINK2"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK1"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK2;">a hacienda</span></a>'s bell tower. I frowned, unsure if I'd ever see them again.</div>
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My husband interrupted my daydream with, "Look, Sweetheart! Everyone we know is expected to be here. This is a good thing."</div>
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A glimmer of sadness crept across my shoulders. My head drooped and I watched my shuffling feet as I struggled with what might have been. Like our eldest, I looked behind me for an escape route – a way to bolt. The pang rushed off, as a piece of notebook paper would during a strong breeze. So, doubt tried a different tactic – would I be accepted? After all, I had been away for so long, and my few meager accomplishments weren't much to be proud of. Again, I sighed, letting go of the worry.</div>
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I regained my composure when familiar voices blended with the pulse of the town. The natural opus sounded better to me than a choir of flocking angels.</div>
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Driven by excitement and remembering better than we did, our children took the lead, pulling and tugging us through the gently winding avenue. We turned right at a corner where an ancient shade tree stood to offer respite from the mid-day sun. I could swear this silent sentinel bowed slightly as we passed beneath its protective limbs.</div>
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Cheery voices grew louder and stronger as we approached the town's square. They became more familiar the closer we got. One after another, I ticked names of long-forgotten family and friends. Gratefully, their faces did not portray grudges. They were genuinely happy to see us. Of course, as we absorbed the enormity of what all we had endured to get to this point, they moved in closer; pats on the back and sincere hugs knocked tears of joy from my eyes.</div>
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Then, the crowd parted, and there he stood, calmly smiling, a twinkle in his eyes, and arms open, awaiting his hug.</div>
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"Welcome home," said Jesus.</div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Author's Note:</i></div>
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I hope you enjoyed reading "Barefoot Homecoming." Thank you for your interest and your time.<a href="" name="OLE_LINK20"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK15"></a><a href="" name="work_these_into_story"></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"> Please visit my </span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;">author's page</span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"> within Smashwords.com. There, you can learn more about me and discover my novels and other stories as they are published: </span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"><a href="" name="OLE_LINK16"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK19"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK16;"></span></a></span></span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK19;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK16;">http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper</span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK19;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK16;"></span></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK16;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK19;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK15;"></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK20;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Also by<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LC Cooper, published at Smashwords and other fine retailers: </div>
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<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/123571"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Christmess</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/124601"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Diary of a Reluctant Vampire</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17743"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Legacy</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/155836"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Man Cave</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/101256"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Simmering Consequences</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/28720"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Voices of Cellar's Bridge</i></a><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></div>
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"<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/37861">Dan's Accidental Convertible</a>"</div>
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"<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/27799"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Halloween's Perfect Storm</i></a>"</div>
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"<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/33221">Of Yellow Snow and Christmas Balls</a>"</div>
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"<a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/39559">One Lousy Wish</a>"</div>
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<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-2228704398541881394?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-84378384516412231862012-06-07T22:31:00.000-04:002012-06-07T22:31:43.978-04:002012-06-07T22:31:43.978-04:00Hemmingway's 6-word story - Did I do it with 5?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hemmingway's well-known demonstration of short-sentence expertise resulted from a challenge to tell a complete story in only 6 words:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"For sale: baby shoes, never used."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Did I accomplish the same feat using only the following 5 words?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Sorry, I represent your wife."</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-8437838451641223186?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-69402204876500649732012-06-02T00:18:00.000-04:002012-06-02T00:18:53.753-04:002012-06-02T00:18:53.753-04:00Internet Psyche and eBook PricingWhen you consider the consumers' expectations built into the design of the internet, should authors expect anything other than downward pressure on our ebook prices?<br />
<br />
For example, my consumer-expectation as an author is that I will find free images to use on my covers. Is that a reasonable expectation? For me, the author, it is. I suspect that a photographer would hope to get paid for his/her image. Only recently, have I seen a coordinated effort on representative sites to force consumers to pay for pictures. These kind of sites are beginning to outnumber the free sites, it seems.<br />
<br />
I don't see this concerted effort, where a common understanding exists among the suppliers (authors) and enforced by representative silos. As such, I believe ebook prices will drop to "free," as this is the consumer's expectation for treasure-hunting on the internet.<br />
<br />
The internet is for bargain-hunters. I've never heard anyone say, "I think I'll go shop online today. I hope I can pay the full retail price, plus taxes, and shipping. And, I don't feel like searching the 'net for online discounts and coupons."<br />
<br />
Heck, we, consumers, pat ourselves on the back whenever we find a way to avoid paying taxes and shipping, or save some money with an online coupon. How clever and crafty we are!<br />
<br />
So, in closing, and building on my previous rants about the downward-spiral of book pricing, I say, "what do we, the authors, expect?" We used free tools, free publishing sites, and free images to peddle our wares, and then we whine when we can't get paid for capitalizing on the backbones of those before us.<br />
<br />
We're publishing within a medium that demands competitive and aggressive discounting. If our focus is to generate the maximum amount of income, then do we turn our attention back to the traditional agent model? Unfortunetly, many agents or publishers won't work with a writer who's self-published. Hmmm .... What will be the model that benefits the author - a series of sites like those that photographers are posting within? I don't think it's working for most of us in the two existing business models.<br />
<br />
Just a late night flip-flop. I'll go back to foaming at the mouth once again after I've warmed up with my morning coffee.<br />
<br />
Good night and take care.<br />
LC<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-6940220487650064973?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-29882591344881987842012-04-27T22:30:00.002-04:002012-04-27T22:30:29.567-04:002012-04-27T22:30:29.567-04:00Bilbary: What's in it for Authors, Publishers, and Agents?<br />
After reviewing its Terms of Service, Site Usage, and FAQs, I'm still in a fog regarding exactly what Bilbary.com provides authors, publishers, and agents. Cryptically, all I could do, as an author visiting this site, was send Bilbary's customer-service folks an email noting my interest in "becoming a Bilbary partner."<br />
<br />
As such, here's the email I wrote them. I'll post their response. Note that Bilbary required a brief overview of my writing background.<br />
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I wrote and self-published four novels (3 adventure, 1 romcom), which exist as ebooks on several platforms. I have many more titles in various stages of development.<br />
I am interested in offering ebook copies of my titles to subscribed readers on Bilbary.com.<br />
<br />
I read the site's terms of service and faqs, but found very little regarding rights retention and nothing about how Beilbary benefits authors/publishers.<br />
Please email me with specific details regarding Bilbary's program and offerings to self-published authors (including, but not limited to, royalties calculations & payment schedules, DRM options, content ownership, exit/termination schemes, et al.).<br />
<br />
Thanks and regards,<br />LC Cooper, author of:<br />Christmess (novel)<br />Legacy (novel)<br />Simmering Consequences (novel)<br />The Voices of Cellar's Bridge (novel)<br />"Halloween's Perfect Storm" (short)<br />"Of Yellow Snow And Christmas Balls" (short)<br />"Dan's Accidental Convertible" (short)<br />"One Lousy Wish" (short)<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-2988259134488198784?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-83240373441791744672012-03-29T10:32:00.000-04:002012-03-29T10:32:02.477-04:002012-03-29T10:32:02.477-04:00Legacy Publishers Poised to Fight Back: Do Silos Spell the End to Self-Publishing?<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Today, Smashwords' founder, Mark Coker, posted his defense of the Agency model. He provided an impressive body of statistical evidence that suggests the Agency-pricing-model is putting downward pressure on ebook pricing. Current reports suggest that ebooks are now priced, on average, around US$3.00 – down over a dollar from just a few years ago. This negative development shows no sign of stopping.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">The trend toward reducing book prices to US$.99 or "free" would have been unheard of two years ago. But then, two years before that, self-publishing was an experiment, dismissed as an anomaly. Vanity publishing was the only meaningful way an author could publish without the gatekeepers and hurdles of the traditional publishing landscape. Authors began searching for alternatives when it became obvious that vanity publishers offered eye candy, but their broken pricing, distribution, and delivery models echoed those that exist in the traditional publishing marketplace.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Fast-forward two years. Desperate for a meaningful alternative, self-publishers, and distributors such as Smashwords,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>quickly rose in popularity. They provided authors the ability to price and control their books' distribution and longevity. This meant the end for lofty pricing models controlled by the Big 6. Instead of remaining satisfied with meager royalties, and forced to turn brilliance into pablum, a significant number of authors abandoned the traditional publishing hamster wheel.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Now, we're hurling past the dreamy period when authors believed readers would pay US$2.99 for an ebook. Before this, pricing was artificially set by the Big 6. The transfer of power to authors and readers had a heady and profound effect. Wild and wide fluctuations existed, with the understanding that the reader would ultimately dictate the price s/he was willing to pay. The Agency model, courtesy of Apple, came around at the perfect time to offer a framework everyone could wrap their arms around.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Without the regulatory governance and stability the Big 6 brought to the table, authors began competing with each other to attract customers. Unfortunately, instead of beefing up our products to differentiate ourselves, we fell back on the short-term price-slashing tactic.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Additionally, thousands of unemployed professionals swelled the writing and publishing ranks as the global economy worsened, bringing along with them a lack of tolerance for slow and steady growth. These weekend warriors were looking to turn a fast buck while waiting to get hired on by their next employer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">The economic possibility exists that many of these unemployed folks, hoping to hit a homerun from writing one book - akin to hoping to win the lottery – are leaving scars that may never heal. Desperate to earn a buck, these part-time authors did exactly as they were taught in the business world: When competing for market share and sales volume, cut prices when you face stiff competition. This is usually the preferred short-term method instead of investing further to develop unique features to a product that is rapidly becoming a commodity.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Commodity sales are basically straightforward. If the buyer can't get the goods cheaply, s/he will shop around, completely indifferent to trappings. Genres of books are crammed full of "me too" ebooks, varying little from each other. As such, ebooks are becoming a commodity, and as such, readers are driving the prices ever faster toward "free" for everything from meager offerings to amazing works.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Frankly, there's just too much competition in today's landscape. The pricing and marketing problems we authors face will get worse before the pendulum swings back toward anything resembling a seller's market, if it ever will. As is the case with Wal-Mart, the expectation of always having the lowest price puts pressure on Wal-Mart's competitors to reduce their prices to remain in business. This slippery slope begins with the greed of one and then rapidly snowballs.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Out of this economic chaos rose an all-too-familiar business model. A fifteen-year-old internet tactic (one with timeless roots) has resurfaced. Known as portals, thousands of websites vainly attempted to retain customers by being all things to all people. Today, we are experiencing a seductively appealing transformation, a shift in packaging and distribution that cloaks a wolf in sheep's clothing.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Amazon's KDP Select took the next evolutionary step and, first out the gate, rushed to capitalize on the lousy economy. KDP Select tempts authors with the potential to get some money in exchange for exclusivity. Potential money sounds much better than no money, which is what most authors are earning these days. Unfortunately, KDP Select appears to be accelerating an author's ever-diminishing returns. You can read more about this situation within an earlier post of mine - "<a href="http://www.publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/amazons-kdp-is-driving-book-prices-down.html">Amazon's KDP Select is Driving Prices Down</a>." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">What's on the Horizon?</span><br />
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<u><span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Leviathans with an Insidious Purpose</span></u><br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">In the 1990s, silos such as America Online (AOL) provided customers with a protective and comfortable environment. Not satisfied, AOL's customers clamored for the ability to access the rest of the internet. Free-flowing portals, often created by indie internet-service providers (ISPs) appeared as a result. Silos gave way to portals, as silos aren't constructed to provide access to all types of information, products, and services. Instead, silos can control and restrict activity, suppress pricing trends, and confine distribution. AOL's myopic vision of the future was avoided by the internet-savvy for over a decade. AOL, as it's turning out, was right on track after all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">The world became a much smaller place because of the explosive integration of the internet into our lifestyles. Of late, many folks began dreaming of a quieter and less cluttered playground that supports the pragmatic allure of the cocooning trend. This cocooning phenomenon, where people insulate themselves by creating a narrow band of friends, family, and outside influencers, is a direct outcome of information and stimuli overload. The internet's silos recognize this and market themselves as safe havens and playgrounds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">"But, you ask, "what does all this have to do with ebook pricing?"</span><br />
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<u><span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Back to Scrambling for Crumbs</span></u><br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">The KDP Select silo offers a restrictive environment to authors in exchange for co-op money. Other silos are created around proprietary ereaders. Meanwhile, as all this activity supporting consumers' cocooning is going on, publishing's Big 6 were waking up to realize they were no longer the sole gatekeepers to the writing and reading experience.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Indie publishing's nemesis is scrambling to remain in control of the publishing industry. Leapfrogging KDP Select and going straight for the jugglar, the Big 6 have invested in a hybrid that will rise from the ashes of the legacy and self-publishing models to regain control over the distribution platform. This hybrid makes KDP Select's restrictive environment look like child's play.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Enter <a href="http://www.ingramcontent.com/newsroom_detail.aspx?id=352">Bilbary.com</a>, a silo espousing the reader experience, is built on the backbone and offerings of Ingram Content Group and investments from within the Big 6. </span>From Bilbary's current homepage, the company states its strategic and tactical objectives as:<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Content: We aim to offer all the ebooks in the world. In the next few months we will add 750,000 titles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Reader: We are developing a cloud reader so you can read your books online.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Apps: We are creating apps for your phones, tablets and computers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Rental: We are working with publishers on a system of ebook rental.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Languages: We intend to translate the site and include books in many languages.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Libraries: Bilbary is working with the public library system to see how we can increase the availability of ebooks to library patrons.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A year ago, Benedicte Page wrote an article entitled, "</span><a href="http://www.thebookseller.com/news/coates-launch-bilbary-e-book-site.html"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Coates to Launch Bilbary e-Book Site</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">," which provides a good summary of the company's vision. Then, I took a look at the </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?edit=ev&feature=menh&v=RvLGWsYCBl"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Bilbary demo on</span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> YouTube.</span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Concerns</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The role of the author appears purposely downplayed. Bilbary is touted as a reader's ultimate experience. Publishers, which I gathered from the reading will be the Big 6 and their affiliates, will receive their customary (legacy) 80% royalty, but nowhere was I able to find a reference to the indie author's cut.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Within the welcome email I received from Bilbary, it states, "If you are a publisher, we offer excellent terms and free access to data and analytics on your titles. You will be able to choose whether to sell books, rent, or both sell and rent." Does Bilbary accept authors as self-publishers?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the very next paragraph, the email appears to downplay the importance of the author in the publishing lifecycle, as there is no mention made of an author's rights to access data and reports about their titles: "If you are an author or an agent with the digital rights to your books we aim to host both new books and an extensive backlist." By its omission, this reads to me like the legacy publishers will be peddling and pushing their same rules and restrictions within the ebook marketplace. I see Bilbary as nothing more than window dressing. They create an interesting and fresh looking interface, but the machine operating behind the façade is the same old nonsense that indie publishing has strived to circumvent.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><u>What about the future of Indie Publishing</u>?<u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Can fledgling and growing e-distributors such as Smashwords resist the lure of selling their businesses to silos such as Amazon KDP and Bilbary? No doubt, with only 3 years under their belts, indie-book distributors are market leaders, but their grasp is tenuous. For example, might Mark Coker tire of running Smashwords and sell the company? Being a very rich retiree is an extremely attractive position to be in, especially when you consider the volatility of the global economy and the instability of the epub marketplace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well-intentioned and focused on growth, what if Smashwords were to go public? With its extensive lists of titles, readers and authors, Smashwords would be snapped up by the deep pockets of any of the Big 6 publishers, drained of its value, and then spun off or shut down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The lure of small money is stronger than that of no money. Will authors sell their souls in the hopes of receiving meager handouts offered by this latest incarnation of the legacy publishing model? Tragically, I believe this could be the outcome if traditional publishing succeeds in going toe-to-toe against indie distributors.</span></div>
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<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-8324037344179174467?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-73135020694665833122012-03-27T09:04:00.000-04:002012-03-27T09:04:01.367-04:002012-03-27T09:04:01.367-04:00Amazon's KDP is Driving Book Prices Down<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Have you read this yet, about KDP Select driving down book prices on Amazon? It's pretty startling and eye-opening stuff about KDP Select and price points - backing up, in many ways, the advice Ruth Ann Nordin and others espouse. BTW - in my small way, I'm kicking Amazon in the shins by not participating in KDP Select.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">This link takes you to the article "KDP Select’s Impact on Amazon.com’s Book Sales Price Point"<br /><a href="http://www.digitalbookworld.com/2012/kdp-select%E2%80%99s-impact-on-amazon-com%E2%80%99s-book-sales-price-point/">http://www.digitalbookworld.com/2012/kdp-select%E2%80%99s-impact-on-amazon-com%E2%80%99s-book-sales-price-point/</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Very timely, as I was struggling with the rationalization of bailing on the $2.99 pricing that I've maintained for 2 years. This article provided support for my decision to lower my prices to US$.99 and "free," as consumer demand for lower prices amid a glut of product are the natural economic forces driving prices toward "free."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Although fine in the short run, I can't make a living giving away my books. I see two outcomes from this: Just as the lousy economy drove housing prices downward amid a glut of available homes, discouraged career and part-time authors will leave the writing profession because they can't make a living by publishing free books, so demand for quality books from a shrinking available pool will eventually drive prices back up. This is a simple cyclical principle of economics.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">If this isn't the long-term result, however, then another publishing model must rise from the ashes of indie and legacy publishing (not likely Bilbary). What an exciting time it is to be an author, don't you think?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Good night from Australia.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">LC</span><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-7313502069466583312?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-2448565301650688352012-03-25T21:09:00.002-04:002012-03-25T21:09:30.966-04:002012-03-25T21:09:30.966-04:00The Case Against GoogleWow- a vibe kept me away from Google Plus, and it's a good thing I did, as should everyone. The linked article provides an exceptional overview and analysis of the problems plaguing personal-data ownership. This article will give me nightmares, in a Matrix-sort-of way. If Google is capable of doing this, then governmental "Big Brothers" are very, very real. Ever heard of DARPA?<br />
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Here's the Google story: The Case Against Google; <a href="http://gizmodo.com/5895010/the-case-against-google">http://gizmodo.com/5895010/the-case-against-google</a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-244856530165068835?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-45379167308956939642012-03-23T08:13:00.000-04:002012-03-23T08:13:24.245-04:002012-03-23T08:13:24.245-04:00The Next Self-Publishing Frontier: Author Barbara Freethy's Story<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Romance author Barbara Freethy shares her strategy for selling 1.6 million copies across her 18 titles. Translating her ebooks and backlist into other languages has gained her access to new markets and new groups of readers. Learn more >> </span><a href="http://paidcontent.org/article/419-the-next-self-publishing-frontier-foreign-language-editions/"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">http://paidcontent.org/article/419-the-next-self-publishing-frontier-foreign-language-editions/</span></a></div>
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<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-4537916730895693964?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-37623906818750051552012-03-18T02:10:00.000-04:002012-03-18T02:10:36.234-04:002012-03-18T02:10:36.234-04:00Evading Censorship: The Lifeblood of a Proxy-Service ProviderAn urban myth exists that only criminals use proxy services. Certainly, there is a criminal facet, but according to USA statutes and United Nations' declarations, we have the right to access media on our own terms.<br />
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This environment has fostered companies to offer services that allow end users to circumvent censorship controls. As I pointed out in my previous post, a significant number of countries forbid and restrict the rights of free speech and access to media.<br />
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Without proxy-service providers, access to information is tightly controlled by restrictive governments, organizations, and companies. Proxy sites grant their customers (end users) varying degrees of anonymity, depending on end-user needs and capabilities of a proxy-service provider. For example, within an autocratic regime, an end user would need total anonymity to avoid persecution. Similarly, those living in crime-ridden regions can protect their identities and account information via a proxy account. Then, even well-meaning governments put controls in place that restrict access to information. Proxies circumvent such controls.<br />
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Living in Australia, I miss my favorite TV shows and radio stations from the USA. Digital-rights management (DRM), the annoying recording-industry associations, and the US government do their best to restrict access to my favorites because I'm outside the USA's borders. If I had access to a proxy service, I could watch and listen to those favorites because the proxy site would protect my identity. They do this by hiding my IP address and related info and forwarding one of their own IP addresses (which, in this case, would be a US IP address; thus, it would appear I was in the USA).<br />
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Proxy.org ( <a href="https://proxy.org/">https://proxy.org/</a> ) presents a very good overview, along with details and recommendations, regarding proxy services. I highly recommend that you visit their site, particularly if you are enduring restrictions to free speach and access to media. You can find help via the information at this site.<br />
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Although recommended by Proxy.org, a service provider by the name of Proxify.com declined my request for an interview. Here are the interview questions, in the hopes that a proxy-service provider would like to step in and answer them. The answers could prove helpful to those in need or just interested about these purveyors of free speach and media access. <em>My thanks to David Weir as I folowed his interview-question format and flow.</em><br />
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<a href="" name="OLE_LINK11"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">This interview comes on the heels of PayPal’s recent attempt to suppress the distribution of certain types of erotica. I am asking for views on the attempts to restrict access to media and what impact it would have on those offering proxy services.</span></span></span></a><br />
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">When did you first come up with the idea of offering proxy services, what was your motivation, and what were the results?</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Can you quantify your current success for us? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><a href="" name="OLE_LINK3"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK4;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">How much feedback do you get from customers and what is your sense of who they are? </span></span></a></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Similarly, how much feedback do you get from your company's critics? What is your sense of who they are?<a href="" name="OLE_LINK8"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK7"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK8;"> </span></a></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">How is your company/organization protected from pressures brought on by governments? What measures and controls are in place to prevent such an entity from gaining access to your customer list and data?<a href="" name="OLE_LINK10"></a><a href="" name="OLE_LINK9"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK10;"> </span></a></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span></span></span></span><a href="http://en.rsf.org/"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Reporters without Borders</span></span></span></span><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"></span></span></span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"> compiles an annual index of countries and their positions and actions regarding free speech, access to media, and censorship controls. What are the opportunities your organization's services? What are the challenges and barriers to success? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">7.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">There are governments that will imprison and/or murder their citizens who attempt to circumvent government censorship controls. What tensions and motivators must exist for someone living in such a country to subscribe to your site? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">8.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Are there any differences in offerings and/or design that distinguish you from your competitors? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">9.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">What are the most common metrics among your customers and their circumstances? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">10.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">What advice do you have for those considering subscribing to a proxy service? With the ever-present fear of government intervention and retaliation, how do you get the word out about proxy services to those with restricted access to media? How successful have you been in reaching out to this market? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">11.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Can you walk us through the recent crackdown attempt on access to media by Pakistan's democratically-elected government? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">12.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">With the plethora of works protected by digital-rights management (DRM) and country- and regional-controls, why should proxy services be protected and allowed to thrive? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">13.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">What does research tell you about censorship trends? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">14.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Censorship is a "slippery slope." What are the ramifications for a government, institution, or company that endorses censorship and denies access to media? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">15.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Pakistan's government has advertised that it wants to implement a filtering and blocking platform that can restrict access to 50 million URLs at a time. What does this capability mean for the future of proxy-service providers? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">16.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">What are your company's greatest challenges and how do you plan to address them? </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK11;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK12;"><span style="mso-bookmark: OLE_LINK13;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Thank you for your time and for sharing your thoughts with my blog's readers.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">With kind regards,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">LC Cooper</span></div>
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<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-3762390681875005155?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-48742529895732273502012-03-17T03:44:00.000-04:002012-03-17T03:44:19.670-04:002012-03-17T03:44:19.670-04:00PayPal was a Battle - Here's the War<br />
The following article is both eye-opening and tragic. It's relevant because free-speach advocates won a moral and economic victory when PayPal agreed to narrow its definition of objectionable content. Unfortunately, the tentacles of censorship are firmly rooted in all but a few of the 179 countries listed in the following report. Even the United States and other "industrialized" nations are not above reproach. The USA's ranking, for example, dropped 27 places below the prior year's placement.<br />
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Free speach won the battle with PayPal, but the war against censorship is far from over. After reading the report's details, I hope you'll appreciate the freedoms we have, and in whatever way possible, keep up the pressure. We don't need to fall into a stupor and pat each other on the back. There's so much more work to be done. There are still so many people dying and rotting in prisons because they believe in free speech.<br />
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The following was copied in its entirety from the website of Reporters without Borders. Note that this report is split into regions of the world, and then by country.<br />
<a href="http://en.rsf.org/press-freedom-index-2011-2012,1043.html">http://en.rsf.org/press-freedom-index-2011-2012,1043.html</a><br />
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Press Freedom Index 2011-2012</h2>
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Gap widens between good and bad performers in Africa</div>
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<strong>Dramatic falls by countries that cracked down on mass unrest</strong><br />
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The 2011 Arab Spring did not spill over into sub-Saharan Africa to the point of bringing down any governments, but some regimes had to face forceful political and social demands, and journalists covering demonstrations were often the victims of indiscriminate police repression or were targeted by police who did not want them covering the crackdown.<br />
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This was the case in <strong>Angola</strong> (132nd), where many journalists were arrested during protests in September, and in <strong>Uganda</strong> (139th), which fell 43 places in the index after a year that will not be forgotten by its media. They were the targets of violence and surveillance during the presidential election in February and were targeted again during the brutal crackdown on the “Walk to Work” protests later in the year, when dozens of journalists were arrested.<br />
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It was even worse in <strong>Malawi</strong> (146th), which plunged 67 places in the index, the biggest fall of any country in the world. Malawi’s journalists were treated like demonstrators during the crackdown on protests in the summer. Many were arrested and mistreated, and equipment was broken. A student and blogger, Robert Chasowa, who was found dead in September, was almost certainly murdered. Media that wanted to investigate the case were threatened. Before all this, Malawi’s media legislation had been toughened so much at the start of the year that some European partners suspended part of their aid.<br />
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<strong>Closed and authoritarian countries near bottom of index</strong><br />
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Reporters Without Borders regards the situation in <strong>Rwanda</strong> (156th) and <strong>Equatorial Guinea</strong> (161st) as very grave because of the control that their governments exercise over the media and freedom of expression in general. They have been joined by <strong>Djibouti</strong> (159th), which fell 49 places. Its president, Ismael Omar Guelleh, was returned to office at the start of 2011 in an election that was decided in advance and gave the opposition no possibility of expressing itself in the media. There is no free press, six people who provide an exile radio station with information were jailed for four months, and social networks are closely monitored to ensure that there are no protests.<br />
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The presence of <strong>Côte d’Ivoire</strong> in this same group of countries (sharing 159th position with Djibouti) could be misleading. Côte d’Ivoire has real media, unlike Guelleh’s Djibouti or Teodoro Obiang Nguema’s Equatorial Guinea, and they say what they think, unlike the media in Paul Kagame’s Rwanda, which have little freedom of expression. Côte d’Ivoire’s poor ranking reflects the dramatic impact that the post-election crisis had on the media in the first half of 2011, including harassment of all kinds, acts of violence and the murders of a journalist and a media worker. During the battle of Abidjan at the start of April, it was impossible for a journalist venture out into the city.<br />
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<strong>Violence, censorship and prison give East Africa three worst rankings</strong><br />
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The three worst sub-Saharan rankings are all to be found in East Africa. Year after year, journalists continue to be exposed to the chaos and anarchy in <strong>Somalia</strong> (164th), a country embroiled in civil war and without a stable government since 1991. Four journalists were killed in Mogadishu in 2011. The bad ranking assigned to Omar al-Bashir’s <strong>Sudan</strong> (170th) was due to prior censorship, closures of newspapers, and arrests, prolonged detention and mistreatment of journalists.<br />
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Finally, <strong>Eritrea</strong> (179th) came last in the index for the fifth year running. Freedom of opinion, like all the other freedoms, does not exist under the totalitarian dictatorship that President Issaias Afeworki has imposed on this Horn of Africa country. At least 30 journalists are currently detained in appalling conditions. Some have been held for more than 10 years.<br />
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At the other end of the index, several African countries made significant progress or showed that respect for freedom of information has taken a firm hold in their societies.<br />
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<strong>Good countries group gets bigger</strong><br />
The number of African countries that are in the top 50 of the index has risen from seven last year to nine this year, while the number that are in top 100 has risen from 24 to 27. The highest non-European country in the index is an African one and in fact it is in the top 10. It is <strong>Cape Verde</strong> (9th), a healthy democracy and model of good governance, where governments can be changed through the ballot box, as last summer’s presidential election again showed. Journalists there are completely free and all the political parties have access to the state media. <strong>Namibia</strong> (20th) also has an excellent ranking, better than Japan or the United Kingdom, for example.<br />
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<strong>Botswana</strong> (42nd), which rose 20 places, and <strong>Comoros</strong> (45th), which rose 25 places, are now jostling <strong>Mali</strong> (25th) and <strong>Ghana</strong> (41st), Africa’s traditional leaders in respect for journalists.<br />
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<strong>A spectacular jump and other notable improvements</strong><br />
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<strong>Niger</strong> (29th) rose 75 places in the index, the biggest leap by any country in the world this year. The economic environment for Niger’s media is very precarious but they are free and benefit from favourable legislation. Media freedom violations have virtually disappeared. The improvement has been seen in both concrete and symbolic measures. At the end of 2011, Mahamadou Issoufou, who was elected president in the spring, became the first African head of state to sign the Declaration of Table Mountain, thereby undertaking to promote media freedom.<br />
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Other African leaders could follow suit, such as Mohamed Ould Abdel Aziz, the president of <strong>Mauritania</strong> (67th), which rose 28 places thanks to the adoption of a law on the electronic media, the opening up of the broadcasting sector, and other developments. Its progress needs to be confirmed.<br />
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<strong>Cameroon</strong> (97th) fell sharply in 2010 because of the journalist Bibi Ngota’s death in detention but recovered a respectable ranking in 2011 although light has yet to be shed on all aspects of his death and on the death in November of this year of Reporters Without Borders correspondent Jules Koum Koum, a journalist who wrote about corruption. Cameroon also badly needs to decriminalize media offences and modernize its communication law. <strong>Madagascar</strong> (84th) continued to improve for the second year running after plummeting in 2009 because of that year’s political crisis but, 2012, as an election year, will pose challenges.<br />
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<strong>Soft underbelly</strong><br />
The absence of major incidents involving the media allowed <strong>Senegal</strong> (75th) to rise 18 places but the situation is fragile one month ahead of a presidential election that is likely to be tense. Like their Cameroonian counterparts, the Senegalese authorities are still not ready to protect journalists from prison sentences by decriminalizing media offences. Aside from abusive lawsuits, <strong>Liberia</strong> (110th) usually allows its media a great deal of freedom but it fell 26 places this year because journalists were attacked and media were closed during the presidential election in October and November, when challenger Winston Tubman boycotted the run-off against the incumbent, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf.<br />
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<strong>South Sudan</strong> (111th), which became independent on 9 July, entered the index with a respectable ranking. The challenge for this country is to build a solid and viable state in a very unstable region while guaranteeing freedom of expression. It must make every effort to avoid sinking to the level of its neighbours.<br />
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AmericasUnited States and Chile affected by protests, Brazil crippled by insecurity</div>
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The worldwide wave of protests in 2011 also swept through the New World. It dragged the United States (47th) and Chile (80th) down the index, costing them 27 and 47 places respectively. The crackdown on protest movements and the accompanying excesses took their toll on journalists. In the space of two months in the United States, more than 25 were subjected to arrests and beatings at the hands of police who were quick to issue indictments for inappropriate behaviour, public nuisance or even lack of accreditation<br />
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In Chile, where student protesters questioned the over-concentration of media ownership, violence against journalists included beatings, cyber-attacks and attacks on editorial staffs. Many of these assaults, often accompanied by heavy-handed arrests and destruction of equipment, were carried out by abusive armed police who were rarely called to account.<br />
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Neighbouring Argentina (47th) barely moved in the index but two other southern countries registered a marked decline – Brazil (99th, down 41) and Paraguay (80th, down 26). Violence was the dominant factor in these changes. In Brazil’s north and north-east and in Paraguay’s border regions, local corruption, organized crime and environmental damage proved to be dangerous topics for journalists and bloggers alike to tackle. Three were killed in Brazil in 2011. Although the vast country showed it was making efforts to combat impunity, justice was applied unevenly across regions and states and was subjected to powerful political pressures.<br />
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This was also the case in Paraguay, where one journalist was killed. Paraguay’s media workers bemoaned the lack of a law giving access to public information like the one passed recently in Brazil.<br />
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The physical danger in Brazil was comparable to that in Peru (115th), where three journalists were also murdered. Peru, notorious for the frequency of attacks on the press, also stood out because of its large number of legal proceedings for defamation. The radio and television journalist Paul Garay Ramírez spent six months in prison, from April until October, for allegedly defaming a prosecutor.<br />
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In Ecuador (104th) and Bolivia (108th), whose positions changed little, the climate was still characterized by judicial harassment, issues of balance and pluralism, polarization and repeated attacks on the press. This was even more the case in Venezuela (117th), which nonetheless rose 16 places.<br />
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Colombia (143rd), where one journalist was killed as a direct result of his work, remained far down the list because journalists were repeatedly threatened, forced to stop working or forced to flee abroad (or to another region), particularly journalists operating in areas where there is fighting. Despite improvements in the judicial system, the country has not yet put its years of civil war behind it, nor the grim practices of the former DAS security service such as espionage, sabotage and smear campaigns. <strong></strong><br />
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Contrasting fortunes in Central America<br />
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Panama fell 32 places to 113th in the index because of a radio station owner’s murder and the expulsion of two Spanish journalists who supported indigenous groups resisting the mining industry’s attempts to take their land. A bad atmosphere, marked by smear campaigns against individual journalists, prevailed between the government of President Ricardo Martinelli and much of the media.<br />
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In Guatemala (97th, down 20 places), already ranked low because of violent crime, habitual self-censorship and a lack of pluralism, a journalist was detained without proof in 2011. In the Dominican Republic (95th), a journalist was murdered several weeks after spending six days in detention on a defamation charge . Frequent instances of police abuse were reported.<br />
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In neighbouring Haiti (52nd), on the slow road to recovery after the 2010 earthquake, rising political tension in the run-up to the swearing-in of President Michel Martelly on 14 May did not reach the point where it affected the safety of journalists.<br />
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Similarly in Nicaragua (72nd, up 11 places), the political polarization during the run-up to Daniel Ortega’s re-election as president in November turned out to have little effect on the work of journalists or their freedom of movement. Despite instances of serious threats, the country moved up several places, as did El Salvador (37th, up 14) thanks to a fall in the number of assaults.<br />
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Costa Rica (19th) topped the list of Latin American countries in 2011, a position for which it traditionally vies with Uruguay (32nd). Its ranking is in marked contrast to that of its Central American neighbour, Honduras (135th), which has languished at the bottom of the list since the coup in June 2009. The deaths of five journalists in 2011, two as a direct result of their work, as well as the regular persecution of opposition media and community radio stations, confirmed its notoriety as the hemisphere’s second most dangerous country for the press after Mexico (149th, down 13 places).<br />
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Mexico continued its decline against the grim backdrop of the federal government’s offensive against drug trafficking, which has cost 50,000 lives in five years. As well as journalists, five of whom were murdered in 2011, netizens who take a stand against the prevailing violence are now also becoming the targets for killings and reprisals.<br />
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Bringing up the rear in the hemisphere, Cuba (167th) released the last of its jailed dissident journalists on 8 March, the only one still held of those detained during the “Black Spring” of 2003. However, it did not fulfil the hopes this raised of an improvement in civil liberties and human rights. Crackdowns and short-term detentions continued to be a threat for journalists and bloggers outside state control.<br />
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As well as Canada (10th, up 11 places), which recovered the hemisphere’s top ranking, Jamaica (16th), Surinam (22nd, up 13) and the seven-member Organization of Eastern Caribbean States (25th, up 32) also improved their position in the index thanks to an almost total lack of acts of violence or serious breaches of freedom of information.<br />
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There was a surprise of a different kind in Trinidad and Tobago (50th, down 20 places) as a result of a scandal involving spying on journalists, as well as moves to boycott radio and television stations and procedural abuses.<br />
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Conditions in Guyana (58th), where radio broadcasting is still a state monopoly, were similar and its ranking was unchanged.<br />
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Asia<br />
Violence and censorship on the rise in Asia</div>
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<strong>Violence and impunity persist in Pakistan, Afghanistan and Philippines, more repression in Sri Lanka, Vietnam and China</strong><br />
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In Afghanistan (150th) and Pakistan (151st), violence remained the main concern for journalists, who were under constant threat from the Taliban, religious extremists, separatist movements and political groups. With 10 deaths in 2011, Pakistan was the world’s deadliest country for journalists for the second year in a row.<br />
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In the Philippines (140th), which rose again in the index after falling in 2010 as a result of the massacre of 32 journalists in Ampatuan in November 2009, paramilitary groups and private militias continued to attack media workers. The judicial investigation into the Ampatuan massacre made it clear that the response of the authorities was seriously inadequate.<br />
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Journalists continued to be exposed to violence in Bangladesh (129th) and Nepal (106th), although less than in the past. In Nepal, journalists were regularly subjected to threats from rival political groups and their supporters. In Bangladesh, opposition groups and the ruling Awami League took turns to attack and obstruct the press. Despite genuine media pluralism, the law allows the government to maintain excessive control over the media and the Internet.<br />
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In Nepal, a decline in attacks by Maoist groups in the south and greater efficiency on the part of the justice system account for the modest improvement in the country’s ranking. However, press freedom was marred by threats and attacks by politicians and armed groups throughout the year.<br />
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<strong>Authoritarianism and ambivalence at the bottom of the index</strong><br />
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Freedom of information worsened considerably in two Asian countries under authoritarian rule.<br />
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China, which has more journalists, bloggers and cyber-dissidents in prison than any other country, stepped up its censorship and propaganda in 2011 and tightened its control of the Internet, particularly the blogosphere. The first protest movements in Arab countries and the ensuing calls for democracy in China’s main cities set off a wave of arrests with no end yet in sight.<br />
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In the autonomous regions of Tibet, Inner Mongolia and Xinjiang, protests by minorities regularly gave rise to a harsh crackdown by the authorities. In Beijing and Shanghai, international correspondents were particular targets of the security forces and had to work under the continual threat of expulsion or having their visas withdrawn. Journalists were prevented from covering most of the events that threatened China’s stability or might have given it a negative image.<br />
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Vietnam (172nd) appeared to follow China’s repressive lead and fell seven places. Politically committed journalists and pro-democracy bloggers were harassed by the authorities while the courts continued to invoke state security to hand out prison sentences ranging from two to seven years. The blogger Pham Minh Hoang, for example, was sentenced to three years in prison and three years under house arrest on 10 August on a charge of trying to overthrow the government.<br />
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In Sri Lanka (163rd), the stranglehold of the Rajapakse clan forced the last few opposition journalists to flee the country. Any that stayed behind were regularly subjected to harassment and threats. Attacks were less common but impunity and official censorship of independent news sites put an end to pluralism and contributed more than ever to self-censorship by almost all media outlets.<br />
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Burma (169th) showed signs of beginning to carry out reforms including partial amnesties and a reduction in prior censorship, but it remained largely under the control of an authoritarian government run by former members of the military junta reinvented as civilian politicians. Less than 10 of its journalists remain in prison at the start of 2012.<br />
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In North Korea (178th), although news and information was able to move across its borders to a greater extent, no one knows whether this will continue under Kim Jong-un, the son and heir of Kim Jong-il. The dynastic succession, the dominance of the military machine and the government’s desire for power give no grounds for optimism.<br />
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<strong>At the top, the good boys turn bad</strong><br />
Those who are traditionally good performers did not shine in 2011. With New Zealand’s fall to 13th position, no country in the Asia-Pacific region figured among the top 10 in the index. Hong Kong (54th) saw a sharp deterioration in press freedom in 2011 and its ranking fell sharply. Arrests, assaults and harassment worsened working conditions for journalists to an extent not seen previously, a sign of a worrying change in government policy.<br />
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In Australia (30th), the media were subjected to investigations and criticism by the authorities, and were denied access to information, while in Japan (22nd) coverage of the tsunami and the Fukushima nuclear accident gave rise to excessive restrictions and exposed the limits of the pluralism of the country’s press.<br />
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<strong>Causes for concern</strong><br />
In India (131st), journalists were exposed to violence stemming from the persistent conflicts in the states of Chhattisgarh and Jammu and Kashmir. The threat from mafia groups operating in the main cities of the coutnry also contributed to self-censorship. However, the authorities were no better. In May, they unveiled the “Information Technology Rules 2011,” which have dangerous implications for online freedom of expression. Foreign reporters saw their visa requests turned down or were pressured to provide positive coverage.<br />
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In Indonesia, an army crackdown in West Papua province, where at least two journalists were killed, five kidnapped and 18 assaulted in 2011, was the main reason for the country’s fall to 146th position in the index. A corrupt judiciary that is too easily influenced by politicians and pressure groups and government attempts to control the media and Internet have prevented the development of a freer press.<br />
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Illegal detention and intimidation in Mongolia (100th) and the Maldives (73rd) showed up the weakness of press freedom there. A climate of religious intolerance prevailed in the Maldives, where media organizations were subjected to threats by the authorities and had to deal with an Islamic affairs ministry bent on imposing the Sharia to the detriment of free expression.<br />
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Europe<br />
Differences increase in Europe</div>
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<strong>European Union more heterogeneous, Balkans facing EU entry challenge</strong><br />
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While Finland and Norway again share first place, Bulgaria (80th) and Greece (70th) have kept their status as the European Union’s bad performers. Targeted attacks and death threats against journalists marked the past year in Bulgaria, where concerns about print media pluralism grew. In Greece, the economic crisis highlighted the fragility of its media while photographers and cameramen covering demonstrations were exposed to conditions resembling war zones. Hungary fell 17 rungs to 40th place after adopting a law giving the ruling party direct control over the media and amending its constitution in December. The precedent set by this legislation, adopted with little comment from other EU member states, has further dented the European model’s credibility.<br />
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France is still in a disappointing position (38th), as concern continues about protection of the confidentiality of sources and the ability of investigative journalists to cover influential figures close to the government. Italy (61st), which still has a dozen or so journalists under police protection, has turned the page on several years of conflict of interest with Silvio Berlusconi’s departure. But this year’s ranking still bears his mark, especially another attempt to introduce a gag law and an attempt to introduce Internet filtering without reference to the courts, both narrowly rejected.<br />
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Against the extraordinary backdrop of the News of the World affair, the United Kingdom (28th) caused concern with its approach to the protection of privacy and its response to the London riots. Despite universal condemnation, the UK also clings to a surreal law that allows the entire world to come and sue news media before its courts.<br />
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The contrast among the three Baltic countries sharpened. Estonia (3rd) stayed at the top of the index but Lithuania and Latvia fell to 30th and 50th respectively as a result of grotesque court rulings and increased interference by the security services. Relations between the government and media have improved somewhat in Slovakia (25th) since Robert Fico, who was heavy-handed in his methods and crude in his language with journalists, ceased to be prime minister.<br />
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The economic crisis accentuated the Balkan media’s problems – use of the media for private or criminal interests, unfair competition in very small markets, and self-censorship by a growing number of badly paid journalists. Judicial officials – many of them poorly trained, allied with the government and often corrupt – seem more interested in harassing the media than ending impunity for those who threaten or physically attack journalists. This was the case, for example in Bosnia-Herzegovina (58th), Montenegro (107th), Albania (96th) and Macedonia (94th), which lost 40 per cent of its media with the closure of Plus Produkcija, a company that owned three dailies and the leading privately-owned TV station.<br />
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<strong>Turkey back to old habits, Azerbaijan and Belarus locked into repression</strong><br />
Turkey continued its descent, this time falling 10 places to 148th. Despite the diversity and energy of its media, 2011 saw a dramatic escalation in the judicial harassment of journalists. Under the pretext of combating terrorism, dozens were jailed before being tried, above all in the investigations into the Ergenekon conspiracy and the KCK, an alleged political offshoot of the outlawed Kurdistan Workers Party. The unprecedented extension of the range of arrests, the massive phone taps and the contempt shown for the confidentiality of journalists’ sources have helped to reintroduce a climate of intimidation in the media.<br />
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In Russia (142nd), the media freedom panorama continues to be gloomy. The conviction of a couple for the double murder of Anastasia Baburova and Stanislav Markelov raised hopes but aspects of the case remained unclarified and impunity is still the rule for those who murder or attack journalists. Tougher sentences for such crimes and the decriminalization of media offences were both good news but the impact of these reforms remains to be determined, especially in the absence of an overhaul of anti-terrorist legislation. The unprecedented demonstrations in December 2011 augur a period of uncertainty – while some newsrooms seem to be becoming more outspoken, the state’s repressive apparatus has so far been able to cope with the unrest.<br />
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After cracking down violently on pro-democracy protests, both Belarus (168th) and Azerbaijan (162nd) have fallen sharply and are approaching the bottom of the index. Their leaders, Alexander Lukashenko and Ilham Aliyev, are both predators of press freedom and both made the media pay for the way their authority was challenged on the streets – in Belarus, more than 100 journalists and bloggers arrested (and around 30 of them given jail sentences), increased harassment of independent media and deportation of foreign journalists.<br />
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Not content with this indiscriminate repression, Belarus’ self-styled “Batka” (Father) went on to turn the media into the scapegoat for all of his country’s problems. Similar methods were used in Azerbaijan, where special emphasis was put on surveillance of social networks and where netizens were jailed just for issuing online calls for demonstrations. Violence is back in a big way there, with threats, beatings, and abduction of opposition journalists and, for the first time in five years, an Azerbaijani journalist murdered.<br />
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No longer the leader in the southern Caucasus, Georgia (104th) is paying the price for the violent dispersal of an opposition demonstration in May and the persistent harassment of journalists and bloggers suspected of sympathizing with Russia. Armenia’s 24-place rise in the index seems spectacular, but in fact it has just gone back to where it was three years ago, before the brutal crackdown after the disputed 2008 elections. The media are nonetheless subject to constant judicial harassment and the size of the damages demanded in lawsuits is intimidating. Self-regulation is a major challenge that still needs to be tackled.<br />
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In Central Asia, Kyrgyzstan turned the page on a 2010 marked by a cruel dictatorship’s violent death throes and inter-ethnic massacres in the south and achieved the region’s best ranking (108th). The media freedom situation nonetheless continues to be very fragile, with physical attacks on journalists and repressive initiatives by parliament. It was a bad year in neighbouring Tajikistan (122nd), where the authorities continue to brandish the spectre of civil war and radical Islamism to try to gag the independent media.<br />
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Kazakhstan’s ranking (154th) improved only because so many other countries plunged on the index this year. In reality, in a bid to maintain a facade of stability at all costs, the Kazakh authorities have stepped up their persecution of the few independent voices and are trying to gain control of the Internet. Online content also focused the attention of the dictatorships in Uzbekistan (157th) and Turkmenistan (177th), which made no progress. The Turkmen public have access only to a highly-censored national Intranet, but the war of information 2.0 has now begun with the few Turkmen online resources based abroad.<br />
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Ukraine (116th) rose a few rungs after its all-time low in 2010, marked by journalist Vasyl Klymentyev’s disappearance, but the negative’s tendencies seen since Viktor Yanukovych’s installation as president in February 2010 – return of censorship and many physical attacks on journalists that have gone unpunished – have continued.<br />
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Middle-East/North Africa<br />
Arab uprisings and their impact on the press freedom index</div>
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The Arab uprisings and the measures taken by governments to control news and information in response to the uprisings had a major impact on the ranking of countries in the Middle East and Northern Africa. From Morocco to Bahrain and Yemen, few countries were spared by this wave of pro-democracy uprisings, which prompted major crackdowns.<br />
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Some predators of press freedom fell from power, but others remain in place. The transitions that have begun are not necessarily leading towards more pluralism and most of the changes in the rankings have been downward ones. The freedoms that have been won are fragile and could easily be swept away.<br />
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<strong>Countries where revolts led to political change</strong><br />
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Tunisia rose in the index, from 164th to 134th, because of the end of the harassment of journalists by the Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali regime, the emergence of real pluralism of opinion in the print media and, albeit possibly only for the time being, the end of massive and systematic Internet filtering. The recent appointments of persons with links to the old regime to run the state-owned media underscored the danger of a return to the past.<br />
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Libya has also risen in the index, but to a lesser degree, going from 160th to 154th. After the Libyan uprising began in February, there was an explosion in the number of media, above all in the east of the country. The new pluralist enthusiasm spread to the west after the liberation of Tripoli at the end of August. Newspapers and radio and TV stations have sprouted like mushrooms. But Libya’s ranking reflects the many abuses against journalists during the civil war. If democratization continues and if media pluralism and independence take a lasting hold, Libya’s ranking will improve over the next few years.<br />
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<strong>Countries where repression continues and changes are just cosmetic</strong><br />
Most of the region’s countries have fallen in the index because of the measures taken in a bid to impose a news blackout on a crackdown. Egypt plummeted 39 places (from 127th last year to 166th this year) because of the attempts by Hosni Mubarak’s government and then the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces to rein in the revolution’s successive phases. The hounding of foreign journalists for three days at the start of February, the interrogations, arrests and convictions of journalists and bloggers by military courts, and the searches without warrants all contributed to Egypt’s dramatic fall in the index.<br />
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The Kingdom of Bahrain (173rd) plunged 29 places to become one of the world’s 10 most repressive countries. Bahraini and foreign journalists were systematically hounded from February onwards. An entire arsenal of measures were taken to prevent information circulating about the evolving situation in the country. At the same time, the authorities made extensive use of the media to put out pro-government propaganda. The creation of an independent commission of enquiry did not end the abuses against journalists. It just helped to ensure that, as a result of the undertakings given by the authorites, the rest of the world stopped talking about Bahrain.<br />
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Yemen fell just one place (from 170th to 171st) despite all the violence used by the security forces against demonstrators and journalists covering the demonstrations. But the media freedom situation was already very worrying and Yemen had already fallen 16 places since 2008, when a sharp deterioration began. A Gulf Cooperation Council plan under which President Ali Abdallah Saleh was supposed to stand down, which he signed on 23 November, did not change the internal situation, far from it.<br />
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Syria, which had already attained a very low ranking in recent years, fell a bit more, from 173rd to 176th place, on the brink of become one of the bottom three. The situation in Syria had an impact on neighbouring Lebanon, where the government provided the Syrian authorities with a degree of cooperation in their attempts to track down dissident Syrian journalists and bloggers who had fled to Lebanon.<br />
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Saudi Arabia fell only one place (from 157th to 158th) although the government organized a news blackout on the demonstrations and ensuing crackdown in the eastern regions with a Shiite majority. But Saudi Arabia had already been very low in the index because of the lack of pluralism and high level of self-censorship.<br />
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<strong>Countries that relapsed</strong><br />
After rising in the index for several years in a row, Iraq fell 22 places this year, from 130th to 152nd (almost to the position it held in 2008, when it was 158th). There were various reasons. The first was an increase in murders of journalists. Hadi Al-Mahdi’s murder on 8 September marked a clear turning point. Another reason was the fact that journalists are very often the target of violence by the security forces, whether at demonstrations in Tahrir Square in Baghdad, or in Iraqi Kurdistan, a region that had for many years offered a refuge for journalists.<br />
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As regards its internal situation, Israel fell six places (from 86th to 92nd) for two reasons. Firstly, Haaretz reporter Uri Blau is facing a possible seven-year jail sentence for possessing classified documents and his source, Anat Kam, was sentenced to three years in prison on 31 October. Secondly, on 21 November, parliament approved a media bill on first reading that would drastically increase the amount of damages that can be awarded in defamation cases. In general, although Israel enjoys real media pluralism, it is not in the top 50 countries in the Reporters Without Borders index because the media are subject to prior military censorship.<br />
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The Palestinian Territories fell three places because of attacks on journalists during demonstrations by Palestinians calling for an end to the war between Fatah and Hamas, and because of an illegal takeover by Hamas supporters of the journalists’ union in Gaza City.<br />
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<strong>Countries that fell again</strong><br />
The United Arab Emirates fell again, this time from 87th to 112th, above all because of its Internet filtering policy and the imprisonment of Ahmed Mansoor, a blogger who administers the online pro-democracy forum Al-Hewar (“The Dialogue”), from 8 April to 28 November along with four other activists, known collectively as “The UAE 5.” He was reportedly mistreated while detained and his family was repeatedly threatened.<br />
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The media freedom situation has not changed intrinsically in Jordan but police violence against journalists and repeated deliberate attacks on the Agence France-Presse bureau in Amman caused it to fall eight places in the index, from 120th to 128th.<br />
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Morocco fell again, this time from 135th to 138th, as a result of Al-Massae editor Rachid Nini’s imprisonment. He is still detained. Algeria, on the other hand, rose again, this time 11 places, from 133rd to 122nd, above all because of a fall in the number of trials of journalists.<br />
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<strong>Syria, Bahrain and Yemen get worst ever rankings</strong></div>
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“This year’s index sees many changes in the rankings, changes that reflect a year that was incredibly rich in developments, especially in the Arab world,” Reporters Without Borders said today as it released its 10th annual press freedom index. “Many media paid dearly for their coverage of democratic aspirations or opposition movements. Control of news and information continued to tempt governments and to be a question of survival for totalitarian and repressive regimes. The past year also highlighted the leading role played by netizens in producing and disseminating news.</div>
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“Crackdown was the word of the year in 2011. Never has freedom of information been so closely associated with democracy. Never have journalists, through their reporting, vexed the enemies of freedom so much. Never have acts of censorship and physical attacks on journalists seemed so numerous. The equation is simple: the absence or suppression of civil liberties leads necessarily to the suppression of media freedom. Dictatorships fear and ban information, especially when it may undermine them.</div>
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“It is no surprise that the same trio of countries, Eritrea, Turkmenistan and North Korea, absolute dictatorships that permit no civil liberties, again occupy the last three places in the index. This year, they are immediately preceded at the bottom by Syria, Iran and China, three countries that seem to have lost contact with reality as they have been sucked into an insane spiral of terror, and by Bahrain and Vietnam, quintessential oppressive regimes. Other countries such as Uganda and Belarus have also become much more repressive.</div>
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“This year’s index finds the same group of countries at its head, countries such as Finland, Norway and Netherlands that respect basic freedoms. This serves as a reminder that media independence can only be maintained in strong democracies and that democracy needs media freedom. It is worth noting the entry of Cape Verde and Namibia into the top twenty, two African countries where no attempts to obstruct the media were reported in 2011.”</div>
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<strong>Protest movements</strong></div>
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The Arab world was the motor of history in 2011 but the Arab uprisings have had contrasting political outcomes so far, with Tunisia and Bahrain at opposite ends of the scale. Tunisia (134th) rose 30 places in index and, with much suffering, gave birth to a democratic regime that has not yet fully accepted a free and independent press. Bahrain (173rd) fell 29 places because of its relentless crackdown on pro-democracy movements, its trials of human rights defenders and its suppression of all space for freedom.</div>
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While Libya (154th) turned the page on the Gaddafi era, Yemen succumbed to violence between President Ali Abdallah Saleh’s opponents and supporters and languished in 171st position. The future of both of these countries remains uncertain, and the place they will allow the media is undecided. The same goes for Egypt, which fell 39 places to 166th because the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, in power since February, dashed the hopes of democrats by continuing the Mubarak dictatorship’s practices. There were three periods of exceptional violence for journalists: in February, November and December.</div>
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Already poorly ranked in 2010, Syria fell further in the index, to 176th position, because total censorship, widespread surveillance, indiscriminate violence and government manipulation made it impossible for journalists to work.</div>
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Elsewhere in the world, pro-democracy movements that tried to follow the Arab example were ruthlessly suppressed. Many arrests were made in Vietnam (172nd). In China (174th), the government responded to regional and local protests and to public impatience with scandals and acts of injustice by feverishly reinforcing its system of controlling news and information, carrying out extrajudicial arrests and stepping up Internet censorship. There was a dramatic rise in the number of arrests in Azerbaijan (162nd), where Ilham Aliyev’s autocratic government did not hesitate to jail netizens, abduct opposition journalists and bar foreign reporters in order to impose a news blackout on the unrest.</div>
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Led by President Yoweri Museveni, Uganda (139th) launched an unprecedented crackdown on opposition movements and independent media after the elections in February. Similarly, Chile (80th) fell 47 places because of its many freedom of information violations, committed very often by the security forces during student protests. The United States (47th) also owed its fall of 27 places to the many arrests of journalist covering Occupy Wall Street protests.</div>
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<strong>Several European countries fall far behind rest of continent</strong></div>
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The index has highlighted the divergence of some European countries from the rest of the continent. The crackdown on protests after President Lukashenko’s reelection caused Belarus to fall 14 places to 168th. At a time when it is portraying itself as a regional model, Turkey (148th) took a big step backwards and lost 10 places. Far from carrying out promised reforms, the judicial system launched a wave of arrests of journalists that was without precedent since the military dictatorship.</div>
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Within the European Union, the index reflects a continuation of the very marked distinction between countries such as Finland and Netherlands that have always had a good evaluation and countries such as Bulgaria (80th), Greece (70th) and Italy (61st) that fail to address the issue of their media freedom violations, above all because of a lack of political will. There was little progress from France, which went from 44th to 38th, or from Spain (39th) and Romania (47th). Media freedom is a challenge that needs addressing more than ever in the Balkans, which want to join the European Union but are suffering the negative effects of the economic crisis.</div>
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<strong>Endemic violence</strong></div>
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Many countries are marked by a culture of violence towards the media that has taken a deep hold. It will be hard to reverse the trends in these countries without an effective fight against impunity. Mexico (149th) and Honduras (135th) are two cases in point. Pakistan (151st) was the world’s deadliest country for journalists for the second year running. Somalia (164th), which has been at war for 20 years, shows no sign of finding a way out of the chaos in which journalists are paying a heavy price.</div>
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In Iran (175th), hounding and humiliating journalists has been part of officialdom’s political culture for years. The regime feeds on persecution of the media. Iraq (152nd) fell back 22 places and is now worryingly approaching its 2008 position (158th).</div>
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<strong>Noteworthy changes</strong></div>
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South Sudan, a new nation facing many challenges, has entered the index in a respectable position (111th) for what is a breakaway from one of the worst ranked countries, Sudan (170th). Burma (169th) has a slightly better position than in previous years as a result of political changes in recent months that have raised hopes but need to be confirmed. Niger (29th) achieved the biggest rise in a single year, 75 places, thanks to a successful political transition.</div>
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It was Africa that also saw the biggest falls in the index. Djibouti, a discreet little dictatorship in the Horn of Africa, fell 49 places to 159th. Malawi (146th) fell 67 places because of the totalitarian tendencies of its president, Bingu Wa Mutharika. Uganda, mentioned above, fell 43 places to 139th. Finally, Côte d’Ivoire fell 41 places to 159th because the media were badly hit by the fighting between the supporters of rival presidents Laurent Gbagbo and Alassane Ouattara.</div>
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One of the biggest falls in Latin America was by Brazil, which plunged 41 places to 99th because the high level of violence resulted in the deaths of three journalists and bloggers.</div>
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The Reporters without Borders website is a comprehensive and informative library. There is more to read about this and past years' indices at:</div>
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<a href="http://en.rsf.org/press-freedom-index-2011-2012,1043.html">http://en.rsf.org/press-freedom-index-2011-2012,1043.html</a></div>
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</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-4874252989573227350?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-36625850923964045682012-03-16T23:47:00.000-04:002012-03-16T23:47:50.337-04:002012-03-16T23:47:50.337-04:00Beyond PayPal, Censorship's Ugly Saga ContinuesOver the last few weeks, the transaction process experienced intense scrutiny as a result of PayPal's misguided attempt to censor legal fiction. With the outcome favoring free speech and market economics, it's not a stretch to find other, and much greater, forces championing the implementation of stronger censorship controls. Sadly, US global market leaders are right in the thick of it.<br />
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The following post, from "Good Morning Silicon Valley," is reprinted in its entirety, with the exception of its closing statement about PayPal (which is reduntant at this point in time). The writer, <a href="http://blogs.siliconvalley.com/gmsv/author/lsumagaysay/" rel="author" title="Posts by Levi Sumagaysay">Levi Sumagaysay</a>, does a very good job of encapsulating the trending censorship problem.<br />
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<em>Off the censor ship? Vows about Pakistan by Cisco, McAfee; PayPal revises e-books policy</em></h2>
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<em>- Posted by </em><a href="http://blogs.siliconvalley.com/gmsv/author/lsumagaysay/" rel="author" title="Posts by Levi Sumagaysay"><em>Levi Sumagaysay</em></a><em> on March 16th, 2012 at 8:35 am</em></div>
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<em>"There are reports this week that a handful of tech companies, including </em><a href="http://www.siliconvalley.com/topics/?Cisco%20Systems,%20Inc." target="_blank"><em>Cisco</em></a><em> and McAfee, have vowed not to heed Pakistan’s call for technology to censor the Internet in that country.</em><br />
<em>Earlier this month, the </em><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/03/technology/pakistan-builds-web-wall-out-in-the-open.html" target="_blank"><em>New York Times</em></a><em> reported that Pakistan had solicited bids from tech companies for the “development, deployment and operation of a national-level URL filtering and blocking system.” The $10 million project seeks a system that would have the ability to block up to 50 million URLs. The deadline for the bids was Friday. Some have urged Pakistan to put its plans on hold, according to the </em><a href="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/world_now/2012/03/human-rights-activists-criticize-pakistani-move-toward-internet-censorship.html" target="_blank"><em>Los Angeles Times</em></a><em>.</em><br />
<em>The </em><a href="http://bits.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/03/15/companies-pledge-not-to-help-pakistan-filter-the-web" target="_blank"><em>New York Times</em></a><em> wrote Thursday that a group in Pakistan had urged several companies not to provide filtering technology to the government, and that some of them — Verizon and Websense, as well as the two Silicon Valley companies mentioned above — had agreed. Would-be activists take note: </em><br />
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<em>As the NYT says, we’re seeing the results of advocacy groups taking the offensive and identifying companies before they have a chance to make controversial deals. In this case, it would be bad PR for companies to be associated with such a high-profile censorship project.</em><br />
<em>Cisco’s vow is notable because it has been criticized about — and sued over — supplying technology to China, which censors the Internet. (See </em><a href="http://blogs.siliconvalley.com/gmsv/2011/09/09/quoted-cisco-in-china-knowledge-vs-intentions/" target="_blank"><em>Quoted: Cisco in China, knowledge vs. intentions</em></a><em> and </em><a href="http://blogs.siliconvalley.com/gmsv/2011/07/05/china-and-censorship-questions-for-cisco-microsoft-and-facebook/" target="_blank"><em>China and censorship questions for Cisco, Microsoft and Facebook</em></a><em>.) Likewise, </em><a href="http://www.siliconvalley.com/topics?Intel" target="_blank"><em>Intel</em></a><em>-owned McAfee was last year identified by the </em><a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704438104576219190417124226.html" target="_blank"><em>Wall Street Journal</em></a><em> as a company that provides filtering software to ISPs in countries in the Middle East that block certain websites.</em><br />
<br />
<em>Meanwhile, </em><a href="http://www.forbes.com/sites/andygreenberg/2012/03/15/blue-coat-netsweeper-chinese-firms-wont-deny-bidding-to-build-pakistans-great-firewall/" target="_blank"><em>Andy Greenberg of Forbes</em></a><em> reports that Sunnyvale-based Blue Coat Systems is among the companies that have “conspicuously declined to comment” about whether they are bidding for Pakistan’s business."</em><br />
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With governments driving censorship controls, how can free speech and market economics survive? Many use proxy services to circumvent such restrictions. One company that I've used while traveling abroad is Proxify.com. I don't endorse any particular company, but offer Proxify.com as an example only. This subscription-based service, through its processes and programming, protects the user's identity while allowing him/her access to otherwise restricted URLs and/or content. It's affordable and I've found it to be very reliable and effective. There are other proxy (and socks) services and although they offer similar functionality, not all protect a user's identity. So, buyer beware - do your homework and ensure the proxy service you select matches your needs. It only took me 15 minutes of Googling to narrow down my list to Proxify.com. <br />
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Although the horizon for those living in restrictive countries like the People's Republic of China, Iran, North Korea, and Pakistan is <span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">ominous, I encourage you to spread the word of proxy and socks services to anyone facing censorship. Word of mouth will protect free speach, as was proved in the landmark descision of PayPal to loosen its policy and definition regarding objectionable content.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> ###</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-3662585092396404568?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-64878657462214173232012-03-13T22:05:00.000-04:002012-03-13T22:05:23.461-04:002012-03-13T22:05:23.461-04:00PayPal Reverses Proposed Censorship, Changes PoliciesMark Coker, of Smashwords, released the following statement regarding PayPal reversing its position on censoring legal fiction. This is reprinted in its entirety.<br />
<br />Great news. Yesterday afternoon I met with PayPal at their office in San Jose, where they informed me of their decision to modify their policies to allow legal fiction.<br /><br />Effective last night, we rolled back the Smashwords Terms of Service to its pre-February 24 state.<br /><br />It's been a tumultuous, nerve-wracking few weeks as we worked to protect the right of writers to write and publish legal fiction. <br /><br />I would like to express my sincere thanks to Smashwords authors, publishers and customers. You stood up and made your voice known. Thank you to every Smashwords author and publisher who wrote me to express opinions, even if we disagreed, and even if you were angry with me. You inspired me to carry your cause forward. <br /><br />Smashwords authors, publishers and customers mobilized. You made telephone calls, wrote emails and letters, started and signed petitions, blogged, tweeted, Facebooked and drove the conversation. You made the difference. Without you, no one would have paid attention. I would also like to thank the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF), The American Booksellers Foundation for Free Expression (ABFFE) and the National Coalition Against Censorship (NCAC). These three advocacy groups were the first to stand up for our authors, publishers and customers. Their contribution cannot be overstated. We collaborated with them to build a coalition of like-minded organizations to support our mutual cause. Special kudos to Rainey Reitman of EFF for her energy, enthusiasm and leadership. <br /><br />I would also like to thank all the bloggers and journalists out there who helped carry our story forward by lending their platforms to get the story out. Special thanks to TechCrunch, Slashdot, TechDirt, The Independent (UK), Reuters, Publishers Weekly, Dow Jones, The Digital Reader, CNET, Forbes, GalleyCat & EbookNewser and dozens of others too numerous to mention. <br /><br />I would like to thank our friends at PayPal. They worked with us in good faith as they promised, engaged us in dialogue, made the effort to understand Smashwords and our mission, went to bat for our authors with the credit card companies and banks, and showed the courage to revise their policies. <br /><br />This is a big, bold move by PayPal. It represents a watershed decision that protects the rights of writers to write, publish and distribute legal fiction. It also protects the rights of readers to purchase and enjoy all fiction in the privacy of their own imagination. It clarifies and rationalizes the role of financial services providers and pulls them out of the business of censoring legal fiction. <br /><br />Following implementation of their new policies, PayPal will have the most liberal, pro-First-Amendment policies of the major payment processors. Will Google Checkout and Checkout by Amazon be next now that the credit card companies have clarified their positions, and have essentially given payment providers the permission to adopt more enlightened policies? Finally, thanks to Selena Kitt of Excessica and Remittance Girl for helping me to understand and respect all fiction more than I ever have before.<br /><br />This is a bright day for indie publishing. In the old world, traditional publishers were the arbiters of literary merit. Today, thanks to the rise of indie ebooks, the world is moving toward a broader, more inclusive definition of literary merit. Smashwords gives writers the power and freedom to publish. Merit is decided by your readers. Just as it should be.<br /><br /> ###<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-6487865746221417323?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-83838062787409307792012-03-13T04:20:00.000-04:002012-03-13T04:20:19.104-04:002012-03-13T04:20:19.104-04:00PayPal to Update its Terms of Use<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">I was excited to read, within Smashwords' site updates, that PayPal is backing down. It is a proud day for indies and the First Amendment. Hard for a 3rd-party transaction processor to remain transparent and neutral, as dictated by card-association policy and legal statutes, when it clouds economic facts with pedantic dogma.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">I posted to PayPal's blog the stats I uncovered within eBay, PayPal's parent. The situation is a bitter pill, but I commend PayPal's senior managers for stepping up and embracing change, albeit begrudgingly. I hope the B-school-grad new-hire within PayPal who raised the "objectionable" content issue has an up-to-date </span><span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: small;">résumé</span></span><span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">.<br /><br />Cheers,</span><br />
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<a href="" name="OLE_LINK2"></a><span style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">LC Cooper</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-8383806278740930779?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5346973025077133631.post-8445934841414632112012-03-10T08:28:00.000-05:002012-03-10T08:28:50.248-05:002012-03-10T08:28:50.248-05:00Is PayPal Willing to Take on Disney?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">First, a disclaimer: I present the following case to expose PayPal's censorship position for the insanity it is. As I've demonstrated within previous posts, I do not support PayPal's position, or any institution's, regarding censorship that attacks legally-protected fiction, as well as the right of individuals to make their own purchasing decisions.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What is PayPal's hidden agenda? Why take on 3 up-and-coming self-publishing sites? Why didn't PayPal target companies, like Amazon, Wal-Mart, Books-A-Million, and the Disney empire, which might generate a significant amount of press? "The Novel Network" is an affiliate of eBay (PayPal's parent). This may be collusion between eBay and PayPal (a merchant and a transaction processor) to snuff out direct competitors to "The Novel Network" and others within eBay's network.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I understand the logic behind content filters. Structurally, they are doomed to failure, especially when one considers the complexity of languages rich with synonyms, dialects, subtleties, and ever-evolving definitions and terminology. So, other than to cripple Smashwords, eXcessica, and BookStrand, what could be PayPal's real purpose?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I do believe PayPal's misguided efforts are based on antiquated policies dictated as a condition of membership in the card-association's networks. It is they, and their financial backers (including foreign governments), who ultimately own this attack on the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Disney, a U.S. icon, is a respected company that is adored by millions around the world. I am <u>not</u> making sensational claims against Disney, its affiliates, or its products. I value Disney's impact on pop culture and appreciate the creativity required to produce such masterful pieces as those I will mention below.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Admittedly, I'm taking PayPal's censorship issue waaay out there to prove a point, which is if Disneystores.com was subjected to the same degree of scrutiny, Disney would have to destroy all products, movies, rides, et all, and marketing collateral that may or may not directly or indirectly contain content that, in this case, PayPal and the card associations deem "objectionable."</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hence, the following satirical review is provided as comic relief to expose how absurd PayPal's position is. Again, this is <u>not</u> a criticism of Disney.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Beauty and the Beast</i>: Disneystores.com hosts 20 books listed with the word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">beast</i>, referring to this title. Content filters would absolutely catch this work, calling it bestiality. As an aside, I've run across a couple of titles, outside of Disney, that rewrite Beauty and the Beast as an erotic story. With the exception of direct sexual references, a content filter wouldn't be able to differentiate the Disney version from an erotic one.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Peter Pan </i>contains a love interest between Peter Pan (a human?) and Tinkerbelle (a fairy). Peter Pan and Wendy make eyes at each other. A content filter would call this a pedophilic and bestial work. It contains a subplot of a teenage-girl's desire for a man/boy/non-human who never wants to grow up.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs</i>: A young woman (young teen?) lives with 7 small and aged men (possibly gnomes). Is this a pedophilic and bestial story? What should a content filter look for?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pinocchio</i>: An old man carves a little-boy marionette, which comes to life and eventually lives to serve his master, Gipetto. Could a filter see this as a pedophilic or nemophilic (love of wood, is that illegal?) story? A content filter wouldn't know. Its programmers would have to make assumptions about context.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sleeping Beauty</i>: Is it necrophilia if a prince kisses a girl who is believed to be dead, or is this a case of Ecstasy being used to knock a woman unconscious so that a lusty man can awaken her loins with a kiss? How would a content filter know the difference?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Sword and the Stone</i>: If a young boy grabs a sword and yanks it, is this pedophilic writing? Content filters would have to be designed to catch metaphors.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Jungle Book </i>and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh</i>: In both stories, a boy hugs and dances with a bear, expressing his love for the animal – bestiality – easy prey for a content filter.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Little Mermaid</i>, along with its sequel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Atlantis</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mermaid </i>titles: A content filter would easily classify these as bestiality for a mermaid (a mythical creature) loves a human.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Aladdin</i>: Jafar's demands on Princess Jasmine might be considered BDSM by a content filter, as he's mentally cruel, threatening torture and death if she doesn't comply with his demand to be his wife.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Hunchback of Notre Dame</i>: Would a content filter be able to determine that the "hunchback" character is actually human, though hideously deformed? If not, a filter would consider this a story about bestiality.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tarzan</i>: a boy raised by a gorilla – this is fodder for a filter, as it would classify this story as bestiality.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lilo and Stitch</i>: Lilo loves her other-worldly Stitch, a non-human. Bestiality? Certainly, per a content filter. To what degree does Lilo love Stitch? … as a pet? … a pal? … a cohort? … a lover? Certainly, we can tell, but a content filter cannot.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Adventures of Tom Thumb and Thumbelina</i>: The likelihood that they are too tiny to be human, along with their desires, classify this title as bestiality, per a content filter.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Monsters, Inc.</i>: Because it contains a subplot about two non-humans of different species dating, a content filter would classify it as bestiality.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This analysis reads like Jerry Falwell attacking the Teletubbies, doesn't it? I wonder if PayPal will go the same way as the irreverent reverend.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In summary, any producer of non-human love stories or those of a caring nature involving minors, would come under a content-filter's scrutiny. The burden of proof would fall on the author and publisher. Disney, DreamWorks, and all the others don't experience content filtering although they historically create and promote products that would not stand up against the rigors of a content filter. However, such products are rapidly consumed by the public without concern or fear of repercussion for purchasing or viewing these products. Legal fiction is protected, no matter the industry. No institution, government, enterprise, or individual has the right to censor legal content. As I proved in this case, if granted the power, whether by law or attrition, the noose would quickly tighten to include works created by Disney's team.</span></div> ###<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for subscribing to LC Cooper's blog. Please visit my author's page at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LCCooper<img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5346973025077133631-844593484141463211?l=publishingfrontiers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>LC_Cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03068023786048731977noreply@blogger.com2