Bulb

Today it is my pleasure to welcome author Bradley Wind and his speculative fiction novel Bulb.

Author’s description of the book:

If light records everything we do, can even shadows hide our secrets?

 

Imagine your entire life is available for review.

 

Imagine each day any event can be watched over and over again – your birth, your first kiss, your recent shower, that private itch – all replayable from any angle. Now imagine these can be viewed by anyone at any time.

 

Is a world where there is far less ego, little crime, and even the smallest moments are recorded and available publicly through the ‘Grand Archive’ a Utopia or a Dystopia? Traumatized by memories he does not want to recall, artist Ben Tinthawin is recruited by the enigmatic, Grand Archive creator Dr. Mamon, who seeks help for his nextgen designs to enhance the world. Ben stumbles across a secret revealing the doctor’s true scheme in all its surreal splendor and questions whether the doctor really is the benevolent soul he claims to be. As the paths of a broken man and a brilliant revolutionary cross, the world shifts and cracks start to appear. Even our most fundamental codes can be encrypted – or corrupted. If the wrong information is discovered, more than Ben’s life will be in danger of total shut down.

 

Prepare yourself for full exposure.

My Review:

In Bulb, Bradley Wind has created an unusual and thought-provoking look into the future. It poses plenty of relevant questions about today and about the choices we’re making.

What I liked best:

1. This is a genuine attempt to describe the future, not a story set in our own world with more rocket ships and robots in the background. The author makes the valid point that if you asked a human from ten thousand years ago to describe the year 2020 they wouldn’t have enough information to even imagine our society. Bradley Wind has tried to make this leap into an unimaginable future, and he has succeeded in creating a disturbing and unexpected world that seems normal and even inevitable to those living in it.

2. His writing packs a punch.

3. This could have been a one-good-idea book. The concept of the archives is so different, and so chilling, that it would carry a fine story. However, Wind is just getting started when he lays out the concept of everyone being able to view everything everyone else has ever done.

What I liked least:

1. The pacing is erratic. I do think the way the book is written has an overall artistic effect, but one has to get through it to appreciate the artistry, and this is not an easy book to finish.

2. Item three above is somewhat of a two-edged sword. This story throws so many radical ideas at the reader that overload is likely. Yes, you can have too much dessert, and too many things to think about in too short a time. I’d recommend reading this novel over a period of several days, if not more.

3. This last part is subjective and I always wonder whether personal preferences should be included. Yet, no matter how well done something is or isn’t, we all have own tastes and they effect our reading experience. So, I’ll be blunt. I didn’t enjoy reading this book.

I’m easily bothered by blood and gore, disturbing rape scenes, disgusting behavior, detailed descriptions of bodily functions, deformities, mutilations and you get the idea. I’m not a good date at a zombie movie and I don’t watch horror flicks. But … Bradley Wind can’t seem to stay off of these topics. His descriptions of the lives of two saints (people who voluntarily stay in a coma to keep the system running) were so over the top they nearly stopped me from finishing the story.

It’s important to note that I’ve read other novels I didn’t enjoy, and yet which I’m glad I read. (Did anyone actually enjoy reading 1984?) The truth is, we don’t only read for fun. We read to understand new points of view. We read to have our imaginations expanded and our empathy increased. We read to think more and to feel more and to grow.

So, I recommend this book to (1) people who enjoy dark and disturbing speculative fiction, and (2) to those willing to read such in order to be exposed to ideas they’re unlikely to encounter anywhere else. Trust me, this book is full of them.

About the Author:

Bradley Wind was born and raised in Pennsylvania. He is a prolific visual artist whose work has exhibited in the 20th-century wing of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

He worked as a toy designer for K’nex Industries, a manager of IT for Pearl S. Buck International and is currently a director of IT for a child-focused non-profit. He raises chickens and two lovely girls with his wife in Chester County, Pennsylvania.

BULB is his latest novel.

Find him on his website, on Facebook, Instagram, BookBub, Goodreads, or on Twitter. 

Buy Bulb on Amazon.

Yes, there is a giveaway.

Bradley Wind will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

Enter here to win.

This post is part of a tour sponsored by Goddess Fish. Check out all the other tour stops.

 

Introvert? Empath? Good Literary Citizen? (3 of 3)

Because I’m an introvert who sucks at social obligations (see the two posts mentioned below) I’m looking into ways I, too, can be a good literary citizen. I’ve identified three problems, three solutions and three dangerous traps I have to avoid.

This is about the third of these three.

A Problem:

Like most (maybe all?) people driven to write novels, I grew up reading dozens of novels a year for fun. College classes slowed me down a little, but not much. Likewise, marriage, children and a full-time job only put a dent in my addiction of choice.

It took writing books myself to bring my favorite pass time to a complete halt. And I’m still sad about it. Turns out I can do almost anything and read all I want, except write.

I’ve already written about how I use (and enjoy) flash fiction to stay current in my genre. And I’ve written about how I follow a limited number of blogs and online groups, trying to be supportive of them while refraining from comments.  I make an effort to stay away from others all together.

Today, I’m considering the rare times I do read a novel these days, and why.

A Solution:

Most of my reading today is done for blog tours, providing reviews for others like me, trying to gain attention for their self-published or small indie press published works. I’m sympathetic to their aims and I try to be positive in my reviews, while still being honest. Often the books aren’t chosen because I’d choose them off a shelf, but rather because they are available for review.

I’ve discovered there are genres I need to avoid.  I already knew I lacked the gene to appreciate true horror novels, or anything grisly or gross. Now I know not to sign up for anything with the word romance in the description. (I’ve nothing against romance in real life, I just prefer my plots to be less predictable.) Recently I’ve learned to be careful choosing YA novels too. I’ve enjoyed some, but they need to be pretty special before I get emotionally involved in teenage troubles.

“Then what do you read?” you may ask. Good question, as I’ve just eliminated a lot of  what’s written. I do like crime novels, science fictions, and most fantasy. (It can get too dark and grim for me out on the edges.) If I stick to this, I find I generally enjoy any reasonably well-constructed story and can say something good about it. That’s nice for me. It means I got to read a book. And it’s nice for the author. They got one more positive review.

The Problem with the Solution:

To be honest, reading to write reviews doesn’t feed my addition. It doesn’t fill some longing deep in my brain. Why?

I read these book the way I used to read assignments in school. I skim and I skip and I barely touch down, just enough to render a fair review, the way I used to do when I had to produce an adequate paper.  Yes, I often enjoy the story, but not the same way I enjoy a leisurely immersion in another world.

And, the truth is, these are often authors still early in their own learning curves. Even though they’ve accomplished the remarkable feat of producing a full-length, coherent novel, they often have habits I want to avoid, not emulate.

To write better, I decided I needed to read better as well.

Recently I’ve started allowing myself to take short vacations from writing, to read a carefully selected novel. I’m turning to award winners, to those books highly recommend by friends and to stories whose descriptions call to me for one reason or another.

I have two rules as I read these books. Well, actually three. The first is to take my time and enjoy the book. The second is to keep my eye out for ways I can grow as a writer. (No, the two tasks don’t seem to be mutually exclusive.) The third is to write a review of these books as well. Even acclaimed authors can use a little a more praise.

Next up for me? Recursion by Blake Crouch and The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix Harrow.

I know I’m not the greatest literary citizen with these few techniques, and I never will be, but I am managing to produce my own fiction while no longer groaning every time someone mentions being “a good literary citizen.” I’m willing to call it achieving a balance.

 

The Tears We Never Cried

Today it is my pleasure to welcome author Ryshia Kennie and her novel The Tears We Never Cried.

Author’s description of the book:

A mother’s tragic diagnosis.
A daughter’s life on hold.
An ending and a new beginning …

Cassandra McDowall’s mother has been forgetful for a while, but she never anticipated rapid-onset Alzheimer’s to come out of nowhere and shake their world to its very core.

As Cassie puts her already-lackluster life on hold, her mom’s indomitable will and spirit of adventure prove to be a handful.

And as her mother fades, the two embark on one last adventure—a journey that reveals secrets on the brink of being lost, the joy of foreign sunsets, and love where she hadn’t thought it possible.

About the Author:

The winner of  her city’s writing award, Ryshia Kennie’s novels have taken her characters from the depression era prairies in her first book “From the Dust” to a across the globe and back again. There’s never a lack of places to set a story as the too long prairie winters occasionally find her with travel journal in hand seeking adventure on foreign shores.  While facing off a Monitor Lizard before breakfast or running through the Kasbah chased by an enraged Water Carrier aren’t normal travel experiences and might never find a place in one of her stories, they do make great travel stories.  When not collecting odd memories from around the world, she’s writing mainly romantic suspense and women’s fiction.

Find Ryshia at her website, or on Facebook, on Instagram, or on Twitter.

Purchase her book on Amazon at The Tears We Never Cried

Yes there is a giveaway.

Ryshia Kennie will award a randomly drawn winner a $15 Amazon or Barnes & Noble gift certificate.

Enter here to win

My favorite excerpt:

“The car is stolen!”

Mother’s voice sliced through the swirls of sleep.

I leapt out of bed, glanced at the clock and tripped over the unfamiliar flannel sheet. On the wall was a poster of a rock band I’d loved at fifteen. I was back in the room of my childhood.

I’d brought Mother home to live with me for that first night after the Christmas card debacle. One night was about all either of us could tolerate. My apartment was too small. It had taken me only a few days to get my stuff together, notify my landlord and move in with Mother.

“Hang on, Mom.” I fought to catch my breath as I reached for my housecoat.

“Cassie!” Her voice cracked across the layer of frost that collected on the window frame overnight and slammed through the partially open window. I have a penchant for fresh air. Sleeping with a window open even in the midst of winter is normal for me, and made it easy to hear Mother’s shriek outside as it erupted a second time loud enough to roust the neighbors. Her screech had me excited but not panicked. Not until my conscious and my unconscious married those two thoughts together—outside and Mother.

This post is part of a tour sponsored by Goddess Fish.

Check out all the other tour stops. If you drop by each of these and comment, you will greatly increase your chances of winning.

A Personal Note from Me:

I signed up for this tour because I grew up in household affected by Alzheimer’s disease in one of my grandparents. I remember how the pain is most difficult for the one or two people who are closest to the person.

This is a blog about being able to see the future. I think if my own mother could have seen a decade ahead, after the disease had long since taken my grandfather and her life had moved on, it would have helped her. But, of course, we can’t see ahead.

I now have the hindsight of decades, and much more medical knowledge, but I always applaud a book that attempts to handle this difficult topic with sensitivity and understanding.

 

The Jack Steel Series

Today it my pleasure to welcome author Geoffrey Saign and his books Steel Force and Steel Assassin.

Author’s description of the books:

Serve justice. Discover a secret. Find his daughter. Repay betrayal.
Jack Steel trains for the impossible, and it looks like it found him.

On a black op to neutralize terrorists, elite specialist Steel puts honor and integrity ahead of orders when he spares a monk. He just never expected his decision to put crosshairs on his back.

Hunted by a twisted killer, a vengeful billionaire, and the highest levels of government, Steel races to discover who’s behind a conspiracy that will decide the fate of two countries—and why one monk is the key to it all.

Aching from a missing daughter, Steel finds it easy to fall for Christie, a beautiful counter-terrorism analyst who offers to help. But he isn’t sure he can trust anyone.

To have a chance at love and a new life, and to serve justice, Steel just needs to stay one step ahead of a bullet…

*****

 

Revenge. Love. Family.
To protect their families, Jack Steel and Christie Thorton must become assassins.

Deadly Blackhood Ops specialist Jack Steel has moved on from his bloody past, but his past won’t let him go. He has it all; his partner Christie, his daughter Rachel, a protection agency he’s proud of, and his head on straight.

But it’s all torn apart when a madman blackmails him and Christy. Their skills are pushed to the limit as they are forced to become assassins to save those they love. The Mexican cartel, terrorists, and people from Steel’s past force them into a non-stop fight that they can’t walk away from.

To protect his country, and everyone important to him, Steel will be forced to trust the very people he swore to kill.

And he might have to walk away from those he loves…

About the Author:

Award-winning author Geoffrey Saign has spent many years studying kung fu and sailed all over the South Pacific and Caribbean. He uses that experience and sense of adventure to write the Jack Steel and Alex Sight thriller action series.

Geoff loves to sail big boats, hike, and cook—and he infuses all his writing with his passion for nature. As a swimmer he considers himself fortunate to live in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, Minnesota. See what he’s up to online.
Website: http://geoffreysaign.net
Twitter: https://twitter.com/geoffreysaign
FB: https://www.facebook.com/JackSteelBooks
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/755980.Geoffrey_Saign

Sign up for the newsletter to receive a free copy of STEEL TRUST: https://geoffreysaign.net/newsletter-free-steel-trust

Amazon STEEL FORCE Buy Link. On sale during the week of the tour for $0.99

Amazon STEEL ASSASSIN Buy Link.  On sale during the week of the tour for $2.99

My Favorite Excerpt (from Book 2: Steel Assassin)

Steel heard the ooh ooh ooh cry of a Mexican spotted owl. It began softly and escalated rapidly to a louder pitch. Wishing he could just stand still and enjoy it, he kept moving. He had a deep, abiding love for nature—which always grounded him.

As he made his way south, he also wished he had taken a firmer stand with Christie and refused her help. It probably wouldn’t have mattered. She would have come anyway. But the fact that she was in a dangerous Op, with little field experience, gave his steps more urgency.

A deeper fear lurked beneath that idea. When the Colombian had threatened to send Christie’s photo to the cartel, he had intuited that it wasn’t just a threat, but a plan. The Colombian would have to die before that happened.

The trees formed dark shadows under the moon. He ran from trunk to trunk until he was far enough south that he could approach the side of the house directly from the east.

Decades of exploring caves had made moving in darkness second nature to him.

As he got closer, the house lights guided him in. He stopped fifty feet out behind a tree. No one was visible in the windows. It triggered an alarm in his head to be more cautious.

Yes there is a giveaway:
Geoffrey Saign will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

Enter here to win

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Check out all the other tour stops. If you drop by each of these and comment, you will greatly increase your chances of winning.

 

 

 

Free through Monday!

Storms are in the air. Flickers of Fortune always makes me think of lightning.

The nice people at Amazon let me give away copies of my book once every 90 days, so what better time than now to offer it for FREE .

My hope of course, is that you will download the book, and then read the book. In fact, my hope is you will like the book so much that you actually go ahead and buy one of the other books in the collection. Hallelujah!

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.  For now, just DOWNLOAD THE BOOK.  Let’s see what happens after that. 🙂

(Flickers of Fortune is available for free from Nov. 7 through Nov. 11 2019.)

Computers are taking over your 401K. Should you care?

One of the challenges in writing Flickers of Fortune was to convince my readers that investing in the stock market could be dangerous, exciting and sexy. My thesis, if you will, was that much of the machinations behind the worlds wealth goes on behind the curtain of the world’s largest casino — known as the various stock exchanges. And if you don’t think handling money, lots and lots of money, is dangerous, exciting and sexy — well you’re probably not paying much attention to why things go the way they do.

The dangerous part comes from all the ways this can go wrong. I mean, we are talking about a lot of the world’s wealth being schlepped around in ways most of us don’t understand, creating results that sometimes don’t make sense even when we do know what is happening.

So …  I was fascinated to read this blurb about an article that recently appeared in the magazine The Economist.

This week our cover looks at how machines are taking control of financial markets—not just the humdrum buying and selling of securities, but also the commanding heights of monitoring the economy and allocating capital. Funds run by computers that follow rules set by humans account for 35% of America’s stock market, 60% of institutional equity assets and 60% of trading activity. New artificial-intelligence programs are also writing their own investing rules, in ways their human masters only partly understand.Industries from pizza-delivery to Hollywood are being changed by technology, but finance is unique because it can exert voting power over firms, redistribute wealth and cause mayhem in the economy.

The blue bold lettering is mine.

Interesting, huh? Maybe even a little exciting in a weird this-car-could-really-crash kind of way?

I’ve Seen the Future, and It’s 8 Time Zones Away

Imagine what a US city would be like if it had been built from the ground up after 1960, and had an unprecedented amount of wealth poured into its creation?

World class public transportation, all fully automated? Wide, well designed streets? Sparkling tall buildings?

You’re describing Dubai, and Abu Dhabi as well. These two cities were small towns seventy years ago, before the money from huge oil supplies and the proliferation of air conditioning turned them from desert outback into what is arguably the most modern metropolises  on earth.

Today, there is a mall with a ski slope. It’s kept at 32°F even when it reaches 120° outside.

Both towns have a sense of opulence about them, emphasized by the curved ornateness that defines Arabic style. The sheik of each emirate has his amazing palaces, and beautiful mosques add to a westerners sense that they have somehow entered a futuristic version of the Emerald City.

If there is poverty, it’s kept well hidden. In fact, streets are remarkably clean and even the cars sparkle.  We learn that there are severe fines for littering, and even fines for not washing ones car after a warning ticket has been issued.

There are no beggars, and no homeless people to be seen. The reasons for this are complex. The most significant is that the sheiks of the UAE have done an admirable job of sharing their wealth with their own people. Most low-paid jobs are held by foreigners, frankly, and these people are highly regulated. Furthermore, the religion and culture encourage family and community assistance well beyond what is typical in the US.

There is also a certain pride that is shared, at the least, by those who come in contact with foreign tourists. “Look what we’ve done. Look what we’ve made.”

You can tell they are keeping themselves from asking “Do you have anything this beautiful back home?” They are pretty sure we don’t.

One of the landmarks that intrigued me most was a giant picture frame. We were told people could climb to the top, like the arch in St. Louis. Here, it was built to separate the much smaller town of old Dubai from the gleaming modern city. We could peer through the frame into the past, while those in the old town could look through the frame into the future.

Given the resources that have been put into these two cities, it is a gleaming future indeed.

 

 

 

 

 

A New Irish Experience

This  time in Dublin much was different. I’d already visited Ireland three times for fun and once for business between 2002 and 2011, so I was surprised.

In 2004 we met a family on the west side of Ireland who were raising their children to speak only Irish. The desire to regain Irish roots resonated with us, but the approach seemed a bit extreme. Speaking English is an asset, whether one likes it or not, and all bilingual children have a brain-wiring advantage that can’t be duplicated later. Yet, to each their own.

In 2019, that desire to reclaim linguistic roots has taken hold in Dublin, but in a gentler way. Signs are in Irish first, and announcements in public places are made in both languages. I find this new pride to be wonderful, and I am happy a few words stuck with me.

Dublin itself has also undergone quite a transformation, or at least the downtown area has. There is a beautiful convention center along the River Liffey, now, and new construction is everywhere in the area. I’m sure it is a mixed blessing to the residents, like all such things are, but I hope all this new growth will bring Dublin more than it takes from it.

The bus system seems vastly improved, with easy to find and use express buses running to and from the airport and a handy tram running along the river. An affordable and well publicized LEAP card made it easy to buy all the transportation I needed for a week for 40 Euros.

The Irish may have been making gin for a long while, but the push to sell it to visitors was new to me. I found myself passing on the ever popular Guinness several times in order to enjoy the new flavor I fell for — rhubarb gin. Paired with a pink pepper tonic and served with a slice of grapefruit, it was  an amazing drink.

Other things were very much as I remembered them, thankfully. The fish and chips remained wonderful and the Guinness was every bit as easy to find as it has always been. Plenty of Irish still seem to like to talk about politics, and they have a fine way of not holding ones opinions against them. It makes our hostile environment here in USA seem all the more childish.

The World Science Fiction Convention I was attending found many ways to feature Irish myths, including this eerie and beautiful representation of a legendary monster from the River Liffey. And the bridge linking my lodging to the convention center used Ireland’s ancient symbol of the harp in an exquisite way to form a thoroughly modern path across a river.

It was a wonderful week in Dublin, and I was happy to see a country I’ve enjoyed so much so many times doing so well.

(Read more about my Worldcon 2019 adventures in Dublin at And the winner, she is …., at  An Irish Worldcon: I’m here! , at Fast Forward into the Past and at Feeling at home.)

Rich and Gone

Today it is my pleasure to welcome author W. F. Ranew and his novel Rich and Gone.

Author’s description of the book:

PI Red Farlow is on the hunt to find $300 million a Florida insurance executive has bilked out of family and friends.

Woody Cunningham stashed the money in safe havens around the world before disappearing. Has he been done in by one of his enemies? Or did he skip town with his girlfriend to live off the ill-gotten wealth? If that’s the case, where is he?

Farlow must quickly learn how and why people hide their money in offshore accounts if he’s to find out what happened to Cunningham.

When a tough guy from Farlow’s past resurfaces, wanting to settle an old score, Farlow discovers he also has links to the missing man. Clues lead him across Georgia and Florida, and Europe, to find the answers.

Is Woody Cunningham dead, or just rich and gone?

Excerpt:

We straddled barbed wire in a low-slung section of the fence and tramped toward the cabin pitched above the languid, black-water river, stained dark by tannins of vegetation. Along its banks, the sugar loaf knees of cypress trees rose up out of the water. An idyllic spot, if you loved pines, mossy oaks, solitude, and an occasional water moccasin basking on a stump. Lord, it was quiet out here. A quiet broken only by the gently moving stream, birds chirping, and fish jumping. In the distance, a mourning dove sang its song of lamentation.

The dark brown chink-log cabin looked rustic enough. Upon closer inspection, modern accouterments stood out. A roof-mounted satellite dish turned up to the southwestern sky, and a surveillance camera pointed in our direction. A deck had been added at some point and wrapped around the original structure. One section, with a hot tub, hammock, and rocking chairs, extended over the riverbank.

Cunningham owned an expensive collection of shotguns for his frequent hunting trips on the property. Had he kept them in this house? Probably not. He was an insurance executive after all.

My Review:

Rich and Gone starts off with a great title and it goes to on tell an interesting and complex who-dun-it story spiced with lots of genuine southern flavor and the occasional bit of big money intrigue.

Things I especially liked:

  1. All the financial sleuthing, and the impressive research behind it.
  2. An older protagonist who trusts his hunches, is tech savvy, and who is finally having a love affair with the woman he’s yearned for, for forty years.
  3. Great descriptions of Florida and Georgia, and even better descriptions of the food and drink of the south

Things I struggled with:

  1. Too much background information about minor characters, especially those introduced late in the story
  2. A graphic sex scene between two minor characters and a graphic murder showing the homophobia involved — both scenes seemed out of place and gratuitous, as they were unnecessary to plot or character development
  3. Several cases of the protagonist figuring something out, or his future self chiming in about finding useful information, and then not telling the reader what the tidbit is

Even though the story didn’t quite fire on all cylinders for me, it’s a well-crafted crime novel with plenty of complexity and surprises. I’d recommend it to anyone who enjoys this genre.

About the Author:

W.F. Ranew is the author of Rich and Gone, a Red Farlow mystery set for publication May 29, 2019, by Tirgearr Publishing. He a former newspaper reporter, editor, and communication executive. He started his journalism career covering sports, police, and city council meetings at his hometown newspaper, The Quitman Free Press. He also worked as a reporter and editor for The Augusta Chronicle, The Florida Times-Union, and The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, where he was a news editor.

Ranew has written two previous novels: Schoolhouse Man and Candyman’s Sorrow. He lives in Atlanta and St. Simons Island, Ga.

Find W. F. Ranew at the following places: His website. The Tirgearr book page. His Tirgearr author page. His Goodreads page. His Blog. On Facebook. Also find him on Twitter at @wfranew

W. F. Ranew is giving away a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Nobel Gift card!

Enter here to win.

This post is part of a tour sponsored by Goddess Fish. Check out all the other tour stops and find many more ways to enter and to win!

If you are interested in a review from me:

This is a blog devoted to thinking about the future. I review books and movies related to this theme or to those that otherwise have a strong tie to subjects touched upon in Flickers of Fortune, such as mysteries or thrillers related to finance.

I do read the entire book and I write real reviews. I cross post my reviews on Amazon, Good Reads and Library Thing, and will post elsewhere upon request. If you would like to be considered for a review please comment here or contact me at Ariel (dot) Zeitman (at) gmail (dot) com.

It Don’t Come Easy

I’ve been thinking about Ringo Starr a lot, mostly because someone just told me he was turning 91, Really? That seemed so hard to believe. With good reason. It isn’t true. He’s turning 79 on Sunday.. Yes, that is still old but ….. it isn’t 91.

A second source confirmed for me it had to be true because Ringo was about ten years older than the other Beatles. Also not true.  Paul McCartney just turned 77. And while we’re at it, over the next week Christine McVie of Fleetwood Mac turns 76 and Patrick Stewart (my favorite Star Trek Captain of all time) will turn 79. There is a lot of talent in that late 70’s group …. but that isn’t my point

I’m more interested in why Ringo got dissed so easily. Is it because he’s always been that Beatle. The one we all though was lucky to be there. Could have been any drummer, right? Maybe. I’ll bet it’s not that simple.

Because I’m not a huge Beatles fan, I don’t have strong feeling on the subject. Ringo only wrote one song I like, but I do like it a lot. Lately I’ve been struggling with some things of my own. Publishing my sixth book next week and getting push back that it’s not that good. A couple of bad reviews of my other books. No, not just bad, snotty. I don’t mind a bad review.  I do mind a snotty one.

I’ve been asking why in the world I’m bothering to put my writing and myself out there so people can shoot me down and make me feel like shit. Am I masochistic? No. Desperate for attention. I don’t think so. Bored. No, I’ve plenty else to do.

The only answer I can come up with is I believe in my writing and in myself. I wonder if Ringo believed in himself through all the snide jokes about how he didn’t matter. I’m just curious.

Today, Ringo does appears to be a healthy and happy 78 year old. Money isn’t everything, but according to Wealthy Gorilla  his net worth  as of 2019 is $350 million dollars.  I think that can buy a lot of solace for people thinking he’s turning 91.

Anyway, enjoy my favorite Ringo song.  I’m singing it in my head a lot these days.