Review...And Every Man Has to Die..

Title: And Every Man Has to Die
Author: Frank Zafiro
Publisher: Gray Dog Press, 2011
ISBN: 978-1-936178-41-4
‘The Russians are making a play to control organized crime here in River City.’ With one line, author Frank Zafiro sets the stage for a bloody war on the streets of his fictional town in Washington. Ex-cop, four time published, Zafiro knows crime and depicts it in real cop fashion. And Every Man Has to Die is Zafiro’s best work to date. His writing is as meticulous as his villain Valeriy who will burn down a house and the woman and child inside to get across the point he expects totally loyalty from his foot soldiers. On the good side of the law, Officer B.J. Carson, is a rookie who isn’t quite prepared for crime warfare. She’s still enamored by her uniform and other co-workers dressed in blue who make good bedfellows. Katie MacLeod, seasoned and somewhat jaded, has been placed on restricted duty after a losing a battle with a fleeing bad guy. So the police force in River City, a combination of characters who have been brought to life in the past with Zafiro’s rapid fire writing style, must put the pieces of the puzzle together before the Russians take over. They discover second in command, vicious Valeriy is trying to outsmart his boss, Sergey. He has pitted Blacks and Asians against each other so he can come out on top of the heap and hopefully Sergey will get caught in the cross fire. Why should a Russian trust a Russian seems to be the underlying theme for these types of thugs.
Zafiro doesn’t paint a glamorous picture of the River City force, either. Their drug of choice is legal. Beer and booze takes you straight to a hotel or bedroom. There seems to be no white knights in Zafiro’s stories. Real people, with real problems. If I were to pick at problems in his story, it would be in his mix of characters. Chisholm, Sully, MacLeod, Tower. There’s no one major hero in this book, no one soul to carry you through the angst as you turn each page. But then Zafiro is a cop, he knows it takes more than one person to solve a crime. In that, he’s done a good job. By 2204 hour in the plot line, the pace can’t get any better. If you remember the chase scene in the French Connection, by far the best of Hollywood, Zafiro has surpassed it. This book should put Frank Zafiro on the fast track.

Another day...another dollar

I'm slowly recovering from being 'stranded' in London. I had to change my passwords in several email accounts and sent out dozens of notes to encourage others to do the same. I've learned a few things since the scam notice went out to send funds for my rescue. First, people are unpredictable. Friends who I hadn't heard from in a long time, decided they should at least contact me but made it clear money wasn't on the way. A long lost brother who blacklisted me from his communication network inquired as to my exact location but didn't offer to 'help'. Hmmm...wonder about his ulterior motive... And then a few people in my 'groups' network offered to help anyway they could. Love their blind faith. Most of those glad-to-helpers were from the writing community. Money is scarce for those struggling to sell their first book. Ahh..but I know they are more savvy and knew the 'send funds' message was a scam. So they were playing it safe. I couldn't help but love each and every message...even the ones indicating they didn't mind if I were 'stranded' for a long time. (Just a couple.) It made my day even more interesting. A German friend figured out the phone number didn't jive...not a London exchange...smart lady. Another friend called the scammer and asked the names of my dogs to verfiy my needs. Smart like a fox. Another friend said she knew it was a scam because I knew she never had extra money. The second lesson out of this is that one should never discount what a near or far friend might or might not do for you. Third lesson is don't trust the internet. At least be diligent about saving info, deleting email addresses that are no longer pertinent to your business or friend list. Fourth is, there's only a few people in the world you can truly trust. Whether its for rescue or not. One gal who always totes the message that you do anything/everything for a friend, didn't bother to comment. The ones who are trustworthy, would come to your rescue, might surprise you...the ones who don't might surprise you. There are no certainities in life. Best to play it safe and rely on your own wit whether it be with friends, family or aquaintances. Cheers, Wil

Stranded....

Yesterday an email note went out to all my contacts which stated I was stranded in London and needed funds to get home. Fat Chance! I always have a back up plan no matter what I do. Almost always...that is...I'm human, too. I received numerous phone calls and email notes about my name and email address being used to solicit money for a foreign bank account. Dear friends that I have said no way...'Wil you've got to get yourself out of this mess'. So I invited them all to spend a couple of their hard earned bucks and come to London and party with me! They could at least buy the ole wretch a cup of tea or a healthy pint in a pub. Although I prefer wine I could settle for a lesser drink. Still no offers. And that's the way it goes with smart friends. A scam is a scam no matter how needy one sounds. It reminds me of the scads of people who are now protesting about bargaining rights, free pensions and benefits. Wanting more for less. Some people believe taxpayers should foot the bill for them to retire without one penny of their own saved for later years. And they want taxpayers to pay for their health care benefits here and now. Of course, some service is really needed from goverment workers. The service from those who protect us. I'd be willing as a taxpayer to give all fire and law enforcement workers full benefits for life at the taxpayers expense...they put their lives on the line. But the rest of us...well, life is a crap shoot and you make a choice about where and what kind of work you want to do. If you're lucky, the work you do is something you love and pays you well. The free market pays for your knowledge, skills, dedication and success. Anything less and you're not worthy of the income. And that leads me/us to writing...while it is a struggle for most of us to earn enough money to buy a luxury townhome in Manhatten, we don't whine, complain and say 'you owe me more'. We plug away with passion like our foot is on the gas pedal. The Great American Novel is just a page away. The lesson here is: Don't scam yourself, dear writers in cyberland. Don't expect someone will come and rescue you if you are stranded on that lone page...where that paragraph won't move forward. Reach deep, laugh at the fact that your muse sometimes asks for a little breathing room, let it reflect on the pay dirt ahead. Let it invest in itself--when it speaks again, you'll move on to the next chapter. I'm sure the scammer that had me stranded in London decided to move on when no one came to my rescue. I hope those striking Democrats in Wisconsin will regain their senses and get back to work and I'm more hopeful that fellow workers, writers, bakers, nurses, school teachers, too---no matter what their chosen profession, vocation will embrace the fact you have to give your all when you do what you do or you're not worth a dime. It's up to you to invest in your future.
Now on to the next chapter...happy writing!

Busy Month

Pick a subject that hit national news this month and your blood might boil. Especially if you are a passionate writer and/or have a desire to make sense of this crazy world. I'll start out light to keep my blood pressure near normal. Did you see the new designs that took over the runways a couple of weeks ago? I'm sure everyone, everyone would say they were colorful. But what female with two breasts, natural hips and the urge to sit on a toilet would add these costumes to their closet? Hems trailing six feet behind, patterns so wild you should worry if you're near open land. Who holds your skirt tail if you have to sit on the pot? Eagles and impalas across your breasts or over your arms? You'll get shot during hunting season. Please, leave the owls and foxes where they belong. Cut our dresses at the knees, please. Girls want to look like girls...even if your 40, 50...you get my drift? Leave the stupid designs on the boards and get back to real clothes. Sexy, smart, flattering.
Protests? God bless those with a cause. But get real, why should taxpayers go broke paying for someone else's health care and retirement benefits? I'm all for giving early retirement and special privileges to high risk profession...god, I love those cops and firefighters with nerves of steel and backs to match. Give them more than those mindless basketball players who too often carry a gun and shot themselves in the foot. Give every soldier free health care for life and a college education. But if you choose another profession...teacher or desk clerk for a public organization, you should plan for your retirement just like everyone in the private sector. Save your money, pay yourself first. It is not my job to pay you to sit on your duff when you turn 55.
Freedom...those in the middle east are working on it. Why we continue to extract oil from dictators is beyond reason. Wonder what would have happened if the citizens had 2nd ammendment rights years ago? For all those bleeding hearts who say we should be a little more like Europe...take a good look at what is going on in Europe's backyard. Protect what we have at home, give up our dependency on foreign oil and drill at home. I'm not giving up my car to ride on a camel. Drill, baby, drill.
Charlie Sheen...did I read they are cancelling his show? Great...another looser out of the face of US kids. Yeah!
Now if all this doesn't get a writer riled...summer is coming. If there's a hurricane (god forbid), who will we blame it on?
Cheers, Wil

Hearts

We sit and write. Compelled or obsessed? USA Today reviewed Joyce Carol Oates this week. I'd say she is an obsessive writer. The two page article featured her recent memoir, the death of her husband, her many life accomplishments. Interesting--she writes constantly. So much so her scribbles are archived. They're taken out in carloads from her Princeton office. What I found even more interesting is the fact she runs two miles each day. And she's in her 70's! Gotta give the ole gal credit for doing something most of us refuse to do. She's also very thin...running, genetics or the fact she writes so much and doesn't take time to eat? This blog is food for thought because in another USA Today report, the news on heart disease and women wasn't good. Heart disease is woman's number one killer but more of us shake with fear over breast cancer. Neither should be ignored. Can writers curb their fears with the Oates' plan...run two miles? The challenge is for writers to get off their arses, eat less and concentrate on how to best keep their hearts flowing. If nothing else, why not do it for love. Oates lost her husband of 48 years...her writing didn't slow down nor did her heart. She remarried within 13 months and published her memoirs...not bad for a 70 something gal who is obsessed with writing.

Safe Haven

Warm weather, the sun in your face...makes you think all is well with the world. After reading Nicholas Sparks book "Safe Haven" you might wonder, though, who is really safe. Someone who is supposed to be a great protector might turn out to be a hideous offender. Safe Haven is certainly a good read...what I call a beach read. It's set in the sunny south, Southport in the Carolinas. It is not for the weak at heart, though. It isn't a fun day at the beach. Abuse, neglect, arson, attempted murder. Perhaps this is Sparks most revealing book...a muse that is dark, frightening with an unforgiveable mean streak. The author, Sparks, stole our hearts with The Notebook, then came along a string of other contemporary love successes. The titles I forget (Sorry, Nicholas). Most were charming, enduring--all great beach reads. I particularly liked the settings for his stories because I'm an East Coast beach fan. If you've walked along the shore of Carolina Beach in September, the soft sand between your toes, the warm, warm surf splashing at your knees, the sun in your face, you'll feel like you've found your own Safe Haven. Something about the currents on a beach, the melody, the action...never quiet but always singing to your heart in one form or another. You don't know the words to the ocean's song, but you can't help but hum as you stroll along. Safe until the storm blows in...and that's what Nicholas Sparks' Safe Haven does to you. The pace, tension increases and strikes like a voilent storm. And after the storm.....back to the beach....Wil

Point of view....

Sometimes it takes a frosty morning to get a point of view to change. I was prepared for a sunny, warm day but a storm blew in and I took cover. Long jeans, jacket, that is: no beach walk. From this desk it's not a bad way to spend the day. I delved into my latest work...a story about a fragile woman who thought she had her act together until she ventured to Paris. Near the end of a grand week, she and her friend are kidnapped. Rogues want to bring a large American company to their knees by demanding a huge ransom for these two unsuspecting victims. The story actually is about her recovery...and that's where point of view becomes important. Do I move in a world where my eyes, heart, thoughts are focused on the here and now? I do. I react to a change in climate, the news of the day, a delay in traffic, an email rejection with frustration but no real personal stake on the line. I'm sheltered, secure, well-fed, determined and driven...my point of view. But what about my characters...those who explore, live in a different world? How do I move from my within to their place where their eyes, heart, thoughts need to come alive on a page for others to see, feel and respond to? Its more than saying 'she said'. I realize I must take my heart to another level and I must dig deep into the psyche of my character to understand why she suffers. I have to change my point of view---not sheltered, secure, well-fed, etc. She's a sick women living in a web of fear. If I can't make myself shake with this fear, my reader won't either. And so I work today on my point of view. It's a chilly day, with frost on the window. I take off my jacket, my warm jeans and return to Carolyn who is shivering on a cement floor and I write again. She said, "I close my eyes, my mind and you are gone. There is nothing more you can take from me."