Showing posts sorted by date for query pARADISE, PART 2. Sort by relevance Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by date for query pARADISE, PART 2. Sort by relevance Show all posts

Sunday, December 13, 2009

LeGarde Newsletter - Winter, 2009




Hello, friends.

In our family, we’ve always managed to get through the traumas and tears by holding on to each other and praying. A lot. My own philosophy, as you’ve heard many times, is to “take pleasure in the little things,” and most of the time it works pretty well. Since I’ve been laid off, (and trying to stem the tide of worries about finding a job), I inhaled the fragrance of baby Isabella’s curly blond hair, took extra hugs from my grandsons Julian and Gordie, reveled in my gardens, fixed a ton of stuff around the house, and allowed myself the pure pleasure of writing like a madman for eight months. With two more books under my belt, I thought I'd managed to handle the stress fairly well. (hint: whenever you start to get too pleased with yourself, hold on. Life is about to change!)

And so my life took a plunge. Daughter Jenn arrived at our home last Saturday with a fever of 104, dizzy, and delirious. We put her to bed, gave her some Advil , and watched her. She’d had some vomiting and diarrhea in the morning. (I know, too much information, but it's important that you recognize the symptoms!) We got the fever down to 103.5, and put her to bed for a good night’s sleep. We all thought it was the flu, and that we’d have to ride it out.

The next morning, her fever was 105.3. Alarm bells triggered in my head – loudly. I got her to the ER at 9:30 that morning, much against her fervent desire to stay home in bed and nurse whatever it was in peace and quiet.

To make a long story short, Jenn had toxic shock syndrome (which men and menopausal women can get, too, by the way). Her BP was extremely low when we got to the ER (77 over 39) and we later found out she was septic, which means her blood was infected. This all happened in less than 24 hours. After a week of touch and go, they finally isolated the bacteria (Orsa) that invaded her body, and saved her. Additional symptoms were a bright red itchy rash on day 2, swollen fingers, toes, and face, disorientation, and severe head pain. I found out yesterday (when we brought her home), that if we’d arrived one HOUR later, she likely wouldn’t have made it.

My dear daughter came home today. She’s thin and pale and exhausted, but she’s alive.

So this holiday season I beg of you all – if you have any symptoms at all like those mentioned above, get to the ER immediately. If you’re wrong and it’s “just the flu,” so be it. But at least you’ll have a fighting chance.

Toxic shock syndrome is rare – most of the docs hadn’t seen it but once or twice in their lives. But it’s usually deadly, because people think it will run its course.

On the job front... ahem. Yes. The illusive job quest. While I searched all spring, summer, and fall for work in the engineering field, I found... nothing. 

The loss of self-image was salvaged only by my life as a writer, by my amazing readers and their loving comments, and by my family and friends. But the old ego did take a tremendous blow, particularly when months and months passed with no return calls for jobs I’d applied for and no prospects knocking on the proverbial door.

Writing provides a nice subsidy, but it isn’t enough to survive on – yet. Until then, I need a “day” job that will cushion us until LeGarde Mysteries (or one of its spinoffs!) hits the best seller list! So, I’ve taken life by its horns and will go back to earn a masters degree in either social work or mental health counseling. I know, this is a far cry from engineering, but helping people through therapy is something I’ve always been drawn to, and the idea of dealing with people all day instead of machines is intensely appealing. It will mean taking more than half of our life savings to accomplish, but it’s an investment in our future where nothing else appears to be on the horizon. Some day I hope to hang out a shingle for my private practice.

Have no fear, I will continue to write like the wind and provide you with many more years of entertainment, God willing. 

Book News:


Mazurka was officially released in Sept. 2009, and was just submitted by my publisher to the esteemed “Edgar Awards.” I’m thrilled that Lida Quillen believes in my work. Meanwhile, I’ve had scores of very generous and validating reviews, and am ever grateful for you, my readers, and your continued support.





Firesong: an unholy grave, was accepted for publication and is slated for late summer next year.




Healey’s Cave (formerly “The Green Marble”), will be released in late spring 2010, and will kick off the “Moore Mystery” series. Its two sequels, One Potato, Blue Potato, and For Keeps, will be offered one per year after that.

I have lots of books to go back to and refurbish before subbing to my publisher, including the follow-ons to Firesong – Virtuoso, Portamento, Counterpoint, Lady Blues, and Don’t Let the Wind Catch You. That work is more like drudgery, but I know it’s important to polish these manuscripts and get them in the queue.

I’ve just started submitting For the Birds, the standalone paranormal mystery set in the Adirondack Mountains, to big NYC agents. No bites yet, but one must be extremely patient and persevere in this soft publishing market. Wish me luck!

I know it’s a little late (the last two weeks have been hell), but if you’d like to order any of the four LeGarde Mysteries for Christmas, I’ll give you a break on the price and am offering free shipping. Double Forte’ and Upstaged trade paperbacks are twenty bucks each, and Tremolo and Mazurka are fifteen each. Just email me at aaron.lazar@yahoo.com with the book title(s), to whom you want them inscribed, and your address. Send a check made out to Aaron Lazar at 5647 Groveland Hill Road, Geneseo, NY 14454 for payment. I’ll ship them out immediately so you can have them for Christmas. ;o)


 
Here's another very classy Christmas idea. Give someone a set of Young Living Essential Oils for the holidays.

I’ve become besotted with therapeutic grade essential oils, so much so that I’ve signed up to become a distributor.These oils (light and not sticky) are produced from plants, trees, shrubs, etc. and are distilled in an ancient, time-honored process. They're grown organically on Dr. Gary Young's four farms in Ecuador, Provence, Utah, and Idaho under stringent quality control processes.

 

Basic oils such as peppermint, lemon, frankincense, lavender, eucalyptus, spruce, etc. etc have changed our lives. My family and friends are finding health and emotional benefits galore, and I’m so stuck on them that I can’t imagine life without my “oils.” Tons of hospitals now use them in conjunction with traditional meds to treat patients and to sanitize their facilities.




If you’d like to read about my “oil” stories (true testaments to the benefits I’ve seen in person), check out my “Esentially Yours” oil blog at : www.pureoils.blogspot.com. You can also read about and order the oils for Christmas at my official website: http://aaronlazar.younglivingworld.com. (If you sign up as a distributor, you can buy wholesale for 24% off.)

The bottom line is we’re finding relief for headaches, muscle aches, sore body parts, skin problems, cold sores, mood lifters, stress relief, and so much more, including bumping up our immunity to disease using pure and natural products the Lord put on this earth. I don’t want to spend too much time in this newsletter raving about them, but needless to say I also now have an “oils” newsletter which I’d love to send you if you’re interested. Just email me and I’ll add you to the list. ;o)

And yes, I'm planning a whole book revolving around essential oils - a sequel to For the Birds that will involve ancient Egyptian rites and biblical oils - it promises to be a blast.



Events

Dr. Ni Radio Show:Poetry, Prose and Everything Goes     December 14, 4PM EST 


Pioneer Librarian Annual Meeting, Canandaigua, NY
December 15, 10:30 AM


Kim Smith Radio Show    Introducing Writers
December 17th 8:30 PM EST



 
 
Thank you all for your support throughout the year. Here’s wishing you a happy and healthy holiday season!

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Sunday, September 6, 2009

Paradise, Part 3



As I’ve mentioned in the first two pieces on “Paradise,” my goal is to catalog the extraordinary experiences I’ve had since losing my job of twenty-eight years. Exploring that lustrous silver lining that comes with life traumas helps me stop feeling sorry for myself, so I’m doing my best to document things that never would have happened if I’d still been working at Kodak.

My engineering career was long and satisfying. Sadly, this week Kodak’s laying off another 20% of the few folks who are left in my old group. When my boss told me I was laid off last January, he said, “It’s the beginning of the end, Aaron.” I guess he was right. There are now less than 7,000 Kodak employees in Rochester, compared to the 60,000 that were there when I was hired in 1981. I’m struggling not to relive the unsettling feelings I experienced when it was my turn to be rejected. Er. I mean laid off. Of course, the actual term is “involuntary separation,” or “forced early retirement.” Except the powers to be messed with our retirement money when they sold us and bought us back from Heidelberg, so there’s no hope of actually retiring yet. God, I wish there were, with every fiber of my being. But such is life.

I hope to help my former colleagues as best I can in the weeks to come. Although I expected to have a great job by now, and to be able to bring in some of my former coworkers into the fold of a wonderful new company when they got the axe… Um… that hasn’t happened yet. But it will. So everyone tells me.

Frankly, I’m starting to wonder if anyone who’s 56 years old gets a good job. Sure doesn’t seem like it. And get this - I have more energy than both of my 24-year-old daughters put together, and dozens of productive years ahead of me. (Ahem. Any prospective employers listening?)

Okay, enough of this raving. The feelings are real, but it’s not very helpful to wallow.

If you remember, I introduced you to “Frank,” in Paradise Part 1, and “Bella” in Part 2. Today, in Part 3, I’m discussing a group of people who stole my heart. I plan to return to this magical place, frequently, when I retire for real.


(This photo was taken from an online collection. The expression on this man’s face is priceless!)

When I worked at Kodak I never had enough vacation. Much of it was spent taking family to doctors and trying to keep up with my gardens and chair caning business. Even five weeks a year didn’t cut it, so I never had time to take out to volunteer, though I’d always wanted to do it.

About a month ago my daughter invited me to volunteer at her summer job, a fine “day care” facility in Rochester, NY. I’m going to change the names of everyone – from the institution to the individuals – because I respect their privacy. I was honored to help out at this fine establishment that cares for and nurtures the artistic talents of disabled individuals.

Each year, this wonderful facility celebrates its clients by orchestrating a special “summer fest.” The theme this year was “Hollywood,” and each of the individuals was encouraged to dress up in costumes from Batman Costumes suits to Cinderella gowns. My job was to play “paparazzi” and take photos of them as they arrived via limo and walked down the red carpet we lovingly laid for them.

My heart leapt every time a new carload of people was delivered at the entrance. Whether they suffered from Down Syndrome, blindness, autism, muscular dystrophy, or a multitude of other conditions, they arrived dressed to the nines. Boas were flipped over saucy shoulders, bowties were straightened with pride, and hats were tilted in jaunty angles. The gals showed off prom gowns with sparkling tiaras, twirling around for the photos with such excitement that I couldn’t help cheer them on. The pride in their beautiful faces shone brighter than the sun that didn’t show up that morning.

Melanie introduced me to dozens of her “favorites,” and I fell for all of them. They displayed such innocence, pride, camaraderie, love of music/dance/art… they inspired the hell out of me and I honestly felt as if I’d made 50 new friends that day.

After a morning of helping out in the art, dance, and music rooms, we served lunch and helped carry trays for those who couldn’t manage. When everyone had feasted, we gathered for an assembly where awards were given out for most improved skills, and then various groups (blues band, musical theater, dance troupe, etc.) performed for their parents and the rest of us. Although I’ve witnessed many a performance in my day (thanks to Melanie’s love of theater and music), I must say I’ve never seen performers glow with such unparalleled pride.

I’ll tell you, after feeling a little sorry for myself because I haven’t found a job yet, the whole experience was humbling. Here were folks with what the rest of the world called “disabilities,” yet in their worlds, they hardly noticed. They had circles of friends, special sweethearts, and favorite teachers – just like in a “normal” school. And who the hell knows what normal is, anyway? Right?

I was privileged to meet Mona, a blind wheelchair-bound woman with speech difficulties. Yet this big hearted woman loves to sing, and asked Melanie every single day if she’d brought her guitar so they could go through their special playlist together. She held my hand when she sang her heart out, and her love of my dear daughter just about brought me to tears.

Then there was joyful Jordan, a young man crippled physically, but with a smile that warmed the room every time he entered, couldn’t wait to tell me how he played the drums. He was so proud of his skills that he practically burst.

Five or six teenaged girls with Down Syndrome all danced with their princess gowns, twirling around the dance hall with such abandon that I was reminded of prom night. There was no less joy, and certainly a lot less angst.

Tami wrote beautiful, sensitive poetry that broke my heart. We talked about writing, and I gave her some of my bookmarks. Thrilled to death, she asked about my books. I brought her a copy of one of my LeGarde Mysteries last week, and received one of the most enthusiastic hugs that I’ve had in a very long time.

Nahum wove lovely needlepoint on his quilting patches. I stared in amazement and complimented him on his skills. He received a special award for his hard work, and although he had to wheel up to the podium, he received thunderous applause from his peers.

Tony drew pictures so beautiful they sold for good money in local art venues. He loves to draw vertical strokes of mixed colors. I stood and stared at his work for a very long time. The subtle blends of hues were mesmerizing.

And Reggie, who never spoke before Melanie worked with him, insisted on saying “Hi,” and “Bye” when we left, tugging at her sleeve for attention. The enormity of the work she does with these people stunned and humbled me. Music therapy works, in ways I had never imagined.

This whole experience made me wish I could start all over, get a degree in therapy or social work, and devote my life to a cause much more meaningful than designing and testing high speed digital printers. If it weren’t for annoying things like paying for prescriptions and mortgages, I would do it in a heartbeat.

Maybe in my next life?

***


Preorder Aaron’s latest book, Mazurka, at Barnes and Noble for a significant discount!

Aaron Paul Lazar wasn’t always a mystery writer. It wasn’t until eight members of his family and friends died within five years that the urge to write became overwhelming. “When my father died, I lost it. I needed an outlet, and writing provided the kind of solace I couldn’t find elsewhere.”

Lazar created the Gus LeGarde mystery series, with the founding novel, DOUBLE FORTÉ (2004), a chilling winter mystery set in the Genesee Valley of upstate New York. Like Lazar’s father, protagonist Gus LeGarde is a classical music professor. Gus, a grandfather, gardener, chef, and nature lover, plays Chopin etudes to feed his soul and thinks of himself as a “Renaissance man caught in the 21st century.”

The creation of the series lent Lazar the comfort he sought, yet in the process, a new passion was unleashed. Obsessed with his parallel universe, he now lives, breathes, and dreams about his characters, and has written nine LeGarde mysteries in seven years. (UPSTAGED – 2005; TREMOLO:CRY OF THE LOON – 2007 Twilight Times Books; MAZURKA – 2009 Twilight Times Books, with more to come.)

One day while rototilling his gardens, Lazar unearthed a green cat’s eye marble, which prompted the new paranormal mystery series featuring Sam Moore, retired country doctor and zealous gardener. The green marble, a powerful talisman, connects all three of the books in the series, whisking Sam back in time to uncover his brother’s dreadful fate fifty years earlier. (HEALEY’S CAVE: A GREEN MARBLE MYSTERY, 2009; ONE POTATO, BLUE POTATO, 2010; FOR KEEPS, 2011) Lazar intends to continue both series.

Lazar’s books feature breathless chase scenes, nasty villains, and taut suspense, but are also intensely human stories, replete with kids, dogs, horses, food, romance, and humor. The author calls them, “country mysteries,” although reviewers have dubbed them “literary mysteries.”

“It seems as though every image ever impressed upon my brain finds its way into my work. Whether it’s the light dancing through stained-glass windows in a Parisian chapel, curly slate-green lichen covering a boulder at the edge of a pond in Maine, or hoarfrost dangling from a cherry tree branch in mid-winter, these images burrow into my memory cells. In time they bubble back, persistently itching, until they are poured out on the page.”

The author lives on a ridge overlooking the Genesee Valley in upstate New York with his wife, mother-in-law, and Cavipoo, Balto. Recent empty nesters, he and his wife are fixing up their 1811 antique home after twenty-five years of kid and puppy wear. He worked as an electrophotographic engineer at the Eastman Kodak Company, in Rochester, New York for 28 years, and plans to eventually retire to write full time.

Lazar maintains several websites and blogs, is the Gather Saturday Writing Essential host, writes his monthly “Seedlings” columns for the Voice in the Dark literary journal and the Future Mystery Anthology Magazine. He has been published in Absolute Write as well as The Great Mystery and Suspense Magazine. See excerpts and reviews here:

www.legardemysteries.com
Www.mooremysteries.com
www.murderby4.blogspot.com
www.aplazar.gather.com
www.aaronlazar.blogspot.com

Contact him at aaron.lazar@yahoo.com.
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Sunday, August 16, 2009

Paradise, Part 2


copyright Aaron Paul Lazar, 2009

Last week I told you that I was "born to be home, tending grandkids, working the land, cooking meals from the garden, and writing 'til my heart squeezes the last words onto the page." I said that this life without a day job is the dream-come-true, the life I've yearned for every single day for the past few decades. It's my heaven on earth, my own private nirvana, my paradise.

I also mentioned that I was starting to get nervous. After applying for 35 jobs, I've had one interview (just heard the job isn't mine) and one rejection (never got an interview). No calls, no emails. No nothing! If I'm not careful, I'll start to think I must've deluded Kodak for 27 years because they consistently gave me nice promotions and always said they loved my work. I have to stop myself mid-thought, because that's a shaky place to tread for the sometimes frail ego of a mid-fifties white male in a time of few jobs and gazillions of overqualified applicants.

So, in order to squelch the nerves that are trying to break through and mess up my happy place, I've decided to write about all the wonderful things that happened because Kodak got rid of me.

Last time we discussed my new friend, Frank. G. In Part 2, I'd like to share the joy of having more time to spend with my granddaughter, Isabella.

There she is. The little angel with the curl in the middle of her forehead. This thirteen-month-old-child is too good to be true. But maybe that's because she had such a tough entrance into the world, fraught with an emergency C section, almost not making it, and spending a week in the NICU. This baby sleeps 12-13 hours straight every night, takes a two hour morning nap and a two hour afternoon nap. She wakes with sweet smiles and a rosy blush on her peaches and cream skin. Okay, so maybe there's a stinky diaper thrown in there occasionally. But although my daughters ranged from what I thought were "easy" to "difficult" babies, I never knew what easy was. This child makes caring for her a breeze. Which is a good thing, since I often have her for days at a time and while I'm pretty damned energetic, I don't have the unlimited reserves I had in my twenties and thirties.

Bella is so easy to please! Bella loves cow or soy milk, and will happily drink water or juice. She eats all the garden produce I put in front of her with gusto: green beans, fresh tomatoes, watermelon, kale, beets, potatoes, blueberries...you name it, she'll eat them with unabashed enthusiasm. When she's done, she lifts her arms high above her head and somehow communicates that it's over. It's not a whine, or a screech. Just two syllable baby words that sound like "all done." She chatters like a magpie, in her own language, but on occasion we've been certain she said, "Trot, trot!" (a game we play bouncing her on knees), "dog," (we have two who love her and her mom has three), "Hi," and "Peekaboo." She hasn't said them a lot, but it was a treat to hear them for the first time and not have to get a call at work to tell me about it. Being there first hand certainly has its advantages.
Isabella started walking a few months ago, and now runs from person to person and place to place. And man, is she smart. I'm not just saying that because I'm her grandpa, but darn it, this girl is bright! We have a toy camera that makes clicking sounds like a real shutter. It lights up and says, "Smile!" But it takes a lot of pressure to push in the button, and her teensy little fingers aren't strong enough. She quickly learned to take MY hand, grab one of my fingers, and push my finger on the button whenever she wanted the toy to do its thing! Now she does this all the time, and even holds her own little wrist to help give herself strength on the tougher jobs. It cracks me up. But then again, I'm easily amused. She's got me enchanted. ;o)

Bella had her very own first "garden tour" with Papa a few weeks back. We sampled blueberries, red and black raspberries, gooseberries, jostaberries, and cherry tomatoes. She lowered her little mouth to my outstretched hand and ate berries off it as if she were a pony taking a sugar cube from my hand. And she carried a cucumber around with her for hour after that, gnawing on it. It probably felt good to her little gums where more teeth are pushing through.

We had our very first cooking session together, something her big brothers Julian and Gordie love to do. We picked lots of veggies, then she sat on my lap while I chopped and cooked. Of course I was super careful with the knife and put her in her high chair when I needed to get near the stove. She wasn't much interested in those things, anyway, since I kept her hands full of goodies. She loved the orange pepper, but her favorite was the cucumber. And believe it or not, this little girl loves eating fresh lemons! (just like me) There wasn't a grimace or a squinch of her eyes. She sucked those babies dry.

The most exciting discovery I've made about Bella is her passion for music, which thrills me, since my father was a music professor, my grandfather was a piano teacher, my daughter is a singer and music therapist, and my main character in the LeGarde Mysteries is a music professor as well.

As soon as she arrives for a visit, Bella runs for the piano, and starts pressing keys. Her great grandmother (my MIL) holds her on her lap and plays the Hungarian Rhapsody for her. I do the same, and Bella holds my two index fingers while we play chopsticks together. Okay, so I'm a little rusty on my Chopin waltzes... She has a peculiar way of asking for me to repeat the song, a sort of little jiggle and bounce with big eyes turned up at me. There's no doubt that it means, "Do it again!"

When daughter Melanie plays her guitar, Bella is fascinated. Unlike Bella's older brothers, who we helped raise, and who would have grabbed and broken the guitar strings in a boyish macho fit of excitement, she delicately strums the strings. It's similar to the way she gently taps the wind chimes on the porch and seems to delight in their sounds. When I used to lift Gordie up, he'd smash them with a fist and laugh at how they flip flopped all over. He didn't mean it to be an act of violence. He's just a boy. ;o

So, once again, thank you God (and Kodak) for freeing me up this summer. Thank you for the time I've had with my darling granddaughter, for the weeks of play and tenderness, for the first time I took her swimming in the pool and her little feet paddled so strong, for the strolls in the garden with Bella holding my finger toddling beside me, and for the time I've enjoyed when she got sleepy and lay her little head on my chest. I've grown so close to her, it hurts when she leaves.

***

So what's this got to do with writing?

Everything. It's life. And that's where stories come from. I'll end up using many of these observations as traits for Gus LeGarde's twin granddaughters (Celeste and Marion) and even for Sam Moore's grandson, Timmy. Almost every scene I've ever used with these children has been based on my real life: daughters, grandsons, and now Bella.

The next time you get stuck on a story, or feel that dreaded block coming on, just stop, get up, and live life for a while. Not only will you have participated in your own life (a very good thing!) but soon the words will pour out of you, I promise.


***


Watch for Part 3 in a few weeks. I'll be delivering my daughter back to grad school in Boston next week and visiting my family, so probably won't get to post next weekend. Have a wonderful few weeks!


***

Aaron Paul Lazar writes to soothe his soul. The author of LeGarde Mysteries and Moore Mysteries enjoys the Genesee Valley countryside in upstate New York, where his characters embrace life, play with their dogs and grandkids, grow sumptuous gardens, and chase bad guys. Visit his websites at www.legardemysteries.com and www.mooremysteries.com and watch for his upcoming release, MAZURKA, coming in 2009.







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