Here it is nearly the end of the year 2004. And the start of a new one. Or so we think. Let's change all that. I say the NEW YEAR starts on April 1st, All Fool's Day. If you're with me, good -- if not, okay. April 1 will be the year of the rose. And the color red. So EA expect a red rose on your natal day. LOL

Posted by Hello

Mole Asses
subtitle: (before she was the PM)
By
RD Larson

"Moleskin?" I arched my usually level brow at the security guard.

"Yes, Madam, PM said moleskin."

"Feathers would suit me better," I mumbled, straightening my dress.

"Ah, yes, lovey, you are a rare old bird," said my spouse from his comfy chair.

"Travers, tell the PM to stuff his Moleskin opinion into his yellow bill; he's the duck in the soup of this damn Hunter's Ball." I dearly wanted to say balls, but it had got me cocked-up before. I thought I just might resign before Boxing Day.


"
Posted by Hello

New Bumper Sticker Now Circulating:

"2008 - RUN HILLARY RUN"

Democrats put it on the rear bumper.

Republicans put it on the front bumper.



New Bumper Sticker Now Circulating:

"2008 - RUN HILLARY RUN"

Democrats put it on the rear bumper.

Republicans put it on the front bumper.




Posted by Hello

Merry and Happy also I'm feel fine. Well, okay better. A little down at being down, but hey, still cruising. A little political humor:

Posted by Hello

santa

Posted by Hello

So are you sitting at home tonight? Trying to figure out the holiday situation. Me too. I probaby believe in Santa or maybe the goodness of my fellow humans. Hmmm. Things we really GET AS GIFTS are health and family and friends and joy. Merry Christmas from me to you.

Mama Tried to Raise a Lady:
Submitted By Arts Editor Pamela Faye

"Pop said his list was longer than the Pope's dress."
From historic fiction the author RD Larson takes the reader to another time when country life meandered through the toils of old; forever lifting humor from the tireless tasks of the 20th century. In those days Mama Tried to Raise a Lady but "the Baby, Rose (RD)" loved to roll in the dust with the Labrador while she imitated his scratching at fleas.

This author RD Larson tells a humorous tale to enthrall the imagination of all with:

"I ran straight at old Billy and Pop grabbed the rope, bull-dogging the errant goat amid hoots of laughter from the guests."

"Mama Tried to Raise a Lady" will have anthology lovers seeking RD Larson"s book of short stories, only one of three by the Washington State author.

Beautiful Christmas to you, my friendly reader out there in private space. Fire red glows like excitement and party time and hearts. May you enjoy every minute of the season.

Posted by Hello

Yahoo Personals

Ever think about what Christmas is about? Selfless Unselfish behavior. Sharing. Committment. Responsibility. Laughter. Candles. Eating. Eating more. Sadness. gifts of self and soul.

http://www.bewrite.net/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=396&mode=&order=0&thold=0

Even if I don't know you I am sure you are sad this time of year. I know I am. It's hard with not a lot of time or money or interest. There's been so much said about gifts that it has lost its magic. People get stuff all year around. When I was a kid I got stuff at Christmas and before a new year of school started. Now everyone has IPODs and DVD players and never worry that their shoes are wearing out. I miss having a home with a Mom and a Dad and a Brother but that was then and this is now. Not happy about the coming surgery. Oh well. It's the wrong time for me to do this. Wonder if I can hold off til spring? I don't know what I want for my birthday??? nothing I guess. Happy that my stories are doing so well - Mama Tried to Raise a Lady is being reprinted again. So that's nice. Sad to hear my friend's husband died. Keep in touch. Did you know you could leave a comment beneath. This is a bit like talking to the Internet God. Somebody Somewhere.

Posted by Hello

Yahoo Personals

It's on the ceiling: it's on the floor
It's not living, not anymore, not anymore
My alien lover's come here from the stars.
Up dare, uthey don't drive no shitty cars.

It's on the ceiling: it's on the floor
It's not living, not any more, any more.
My alien lover's got a little green pickle,
He uses to make me go tickle, tickle.

It's in the hall, it's on the floor.
It won't let me out, out the door.
My foreign agent, my alien brother,
He's my only signifant other.

Yahoo Personals

Can't sleep. Ate cereal now eating ice cream. I had a book signing yesterday. Binge because I can't sleep. stoopid.

I'm left. where are you:
Posted by Hello

Stop in the name of common sense.

Posted by Hello

Then one night as I slept a sudden burst of clear white light woke me. I knew immediately that they had come for me. I wanted to hide, to run, to burrow into my quilt. It was hopeless. They knew everything. And they could do everything. I waited for them to open their tool chests and begin my operation. I would be one of them whether I wanted it or not. In absolute fear I gave myself into their manidibles. They gathered me up and began the transportation that meant the end of my life on earth.

Posted by Hello

Oh well, chat you via my blog soon.

Posted by Hello

Fall Mist -- am missing my place here and haven't left yet. Also just heard that Stefan Ash died n Malta October 4, 2004 and that makes me sad. I shall miss him. He was so vivid and erudite. At least we can remember his words.

Posted by Hello

Yahoo Personals

I'm kind of down today. Busy day and no time to write. Here's a thought or two though. Sometime when there's music or television on and on, I can't hear the secret words of my characters that crawl through my mind. The likes of Erle and Stumpy, Jumper, and even Marion are missing. So should I put together a book of Erle & Stumpy stories for the contest or not? What if they don't pay anything? I have so many bills. There's always the problem of what to do -- work for money -- work to share. Why don't the people who say they love me help me? Oh well, another day looms.

I'm finally a calender girl -- also read my stories. One is for kids - a Christmas story and another sad one about families. Two other stories also here.

Great day here. I'm the outdoors type. Weekend!!!!

Yahoo Personals

first calendar for me


Oh yeah and read my stories -- one is a kid's Christmas Story and one is about family. two others.

Forget the election. It's over. Go shopping. Go for a walk. read my book.

Posted by Hello

writer at large BLOG insystem
All of us mass debaters of the presidental race are sitting around and hoping for the best. Who knows what will happen next? Everything is so different and so threatening. Bin Laden said he would bankrupt us. (The US us) He is well on his way! Let's hope things get turned around -- in the direction that is helpful.

writer at large BLOG insystem
I actually got a threatening hate mail because of an article I wrote about why I'm voting for Kerry. I'm not mad; I think it childish and just funny. It's pretty crazy out there, people. I had thought we were civilized but now I'm not so sure. In any case, fewer people are civilized than ever before, I think.

Get out there and VOTE.

Posted by Hello

http://www.bewrite.net/free_fiction/romance/floras_shop.htm

Posted by Hello

Mt St Helen's an angry repressed youngster steaming. Pretty huh? It has glaciers and now snow.

Posted by Hello

dog and beach. peace. Good. Just Good Life.

Posted by Hello

Mt. St. Helen's rumbles.

Posted by Hello

New contributor RD Larson has a new secretary for old contributor Cleveland W. Gibson. Bethany comes to the author?s eerie eyrie atop windswept New Duryea, which is haunted by The Whimsy , part 1.


Posted by Hello

Erle's Common Law Wife
Bitter

She wants to leave,
He begs her to stay; He says he's sorry.
She knows he lies.
He weeps and groans; His face is red.

She longs for peace,
He agrees to try; He says he's wrong.
She wishes she were dead.
He pleads with child-like eyes.

She knows the walk.
She's walked before; she wants to quit.
She knows she's stupid.
Her heart is broken and diseased.

He can make her give.
He always could; He knows her guilt.
He knows her sin.
He knows she loves him in his sin.

It won't end until one dies.
He could free her; She could run.
She's his fool, He knows her, too.
He knows she hates the sin but loves the sinner.
© 2003 byRD Larson

Posted by Hello

Yahoo Personals

The Sky, The Earth

By
RD Larson

Terror from terrorists, a ball of fire bursts out,
Dying, falling souls pitch into the Hereafter,
Helpless, others watch, fit with numb and dazed
Shrouds of sorrow,

The crushing burning death from above kills.
When one of us, of ours, dies by vent of hate,
All of us seem to die ln a concert of emotions,
A symphony of pain.

Yet still, as the stars on a night sky,
Fly over a field of blood and purity,
Stripes of glory, stars of hope,
And human hearts prevail,

Yahoo Personals

WRITER at large BLOG insystem
So now I'm fine. almost. enuff said. It's such wonderful weather that I am giddy by it. Still trying to finish Incident Interview for the Carve contest. And another contest. I'm me and I approved this massage. LOL.

Yahoo Personals

Could it be that the blind have seen? Could it be that the deaf have heard? Bush was easily as hot-headed as Howard Dean last night. No wonder he's trigger happy.

And Kerry? What is wrong with saying "Yes, I voted for the war when I thought all the facts were true, that Saddam Hussein had WMD's? Also check the record -- I wanted Hans Blix to finish the job."

Can't anyone remember how disgusted Blix was with the US? In Europe we're called IMPERIALISTS -- and I'm sure that really we don't want to add Irag as a new state or do we? Don't we have enough trouble with illegal aliens? Ye gods! People get a grip.

Bush is so petulant; so whiny and so poorly informed, with such self-righteousness. Bush is so full of himself and his opinions.

wind from debates 

Hello 

CHENEY AND EDWARDS
pretty good show, eh? Edwards did well. Cheney did well. Cheney repeated himself but then he has to help his leader. Edwards did the same. Not only did they not answer questions directly they also broke the rules. Grudging respect from each to other. I think we should have made them stand up and ask each other direct questions and then answer American History questions until one of them lost. Following that, each should don a Speedo and make a fifty yard dash to an olypic-sized pool filled with hanging chads and flip-flops.

If you have NOT registered to vote DO IT NOW because I don't want to hear you complaining when who or what is running the country. It's your responsibility. Not just older people and busy people. All citizens should vote. Never mind if it gets you on Kobe's jury. Or gives your name out to charities. So WHAT? At least we have a choice.

http://home.earthlink.net/~scific/StoryLRD2.htm

Two high school girls disagree about the celebration of Halloween. When one of them dupes the other into going to an old lady's house, unexpected hilarity and fear combine to make a story that you will ...remember!

Books A Million

Halloween story up now! I'll put the link in later. There is another one too -- both are PG 13. But scary-your-pants-off. so go to my website!www.RDLarson.com

My dog was hurt today. He fell off the daybed. He's pretty sore. Vet gave him Cortesone. But he feels so miserable like dogs do. I hope he's better soon. I gave him ice cream. He looks so sad and doesn't know why it hurts.

Wrapped
by
RD Larson
Night dreams bent on a post,
scattered thoughts on a line;
feathered fears caught on a wing,
gathered,spending in the daylight hours.

Alien dash Go have some fun. Happy Tooze Day 2 U.

I got lost today. And a nice person came by and brought me to my house. That was nice. I didn't think I was lost. I thought I was waiting for a ride that didn't come. I don't like this feeling. I will be glad to drive again. I didn't get too upset. I mean what can you do? Did you see Stephen King on the today show? He's brave, you know, to write all that scary stuff. I wrote a Halloween story tonight. Keep tuned -- I will finish SUDDEN DEATH in a day or two. Promise. I am now crossing my heart.

one of my very favorite editors, Tanya Vece, brilliant and current, is at the Emmys tonight. From her I've gotten so much and because of Cleveland Gibson, I've got my work offered to her. I'll wave at her tonight if I see her. The Horse Chronicles has my story, Cleanup Jobs. and a story with ME in it by Cleveland Gibson called Little Dong
Enjoy.

writer at large BLOG Tired of sitting around on my rearend. Been walking some and a bit of other stuff, like cutting spent flower heads. Had a visitor today. A fan, I guess. I really do not know him; just came by. He asked me what exactly what my surgery WAS and I was so surprised that I mumbled it out. I think sometimes I am too private to be a writer. But hell here I am blogging. This is an older person and I was respectful but also kind of taken back at learning yet again how close strangers feel to me when they've read my work. I gave him one of my books after autographing it. I'm putting my Erle & Stumpy stories into an anthology. I do believe that writers and readers are two parts of a single team and that the TEAM is the work, whether it is story, novel, essay or article. New story up on my website, Marriage Insurance.

Next installment of Sudden Death, as I promised; I worked ON THAT STORY until 2:30am last night.

Meet Singles

Poll;What do you think of ebook installments sent to your phones or other handheld devices? Would you subscribe?

SUDDEN DEATH (to read from the beginnig you'll have to go back to previous posts.

Part 6

“Hey, you scum, you damn near got my baby killed,” Heap grabbed Chance by the sides of his leather jacket and shook him viciously. The younger, thinner man didn’t have the weight that Heap had. Chance tried to pull away. Heap lost his balance and they both slammed into the ground.

“Hot Damn, I love this. Just like the Wresting shows, “said Marion, grunting as he pulled Chance off of Heap.” You all ought to sign up for a tag-team show.”

“Shut the hell up, you don’t know what I’ve . . . “mumbled Heap as he stood up. “I’m going in to check on Zoë. Don’t stick around here, dumb ass. He poked Chance with his fat index finger.” He didn’t even glance at Marion as he went on up to the hospital.

“You’re on his list,” Marion asked Chance as they walked toward his car. “What’s up with that?”

Chance stopped. He looked at Marion. His blue eyes were red-rimmed and brimming with tears.

“So -- well, hell’s bells, tell me,” Marion could see now that there was a history here that he hadn’t known about when he took the case.

To be continued

The Sky, The Earth

by
RD Larson

Terror from terrorists, a ball of fire bursts out,
Dying, falling souls pitch into the Hereafter,
Helpless, others watch, fit with numb and dazed
Shrouds of sorrow,

The crushing burning death from above kills.
When one of us, of ours, dies by vent of hate,
All of us seem to die ln a concert of emotions,
A symphony of pain.

Yet still, as the stars on a night sky,
Fly over a field of blood and purity,
Stripes of glory, stars of hope,
And human hearts prevail,

just found out I'll have to take it easy a bit longer. I am very annoyed. I feel better though. Not much into writing. Here's a little something:






The Bread of Life

by

RD Larson



I follow her. I am talking; she doesn't listen.
She tells me she is busy; I tell her I have been hurt.
She looks,
But I can see in her eyes, that
Such little blood is unimportant,
I do know that.
I ask her if I can help; she shakes her head.
"No, Baby, it is better if I do this myself."
I sit in a chair, turning face cards down;
she is absent, if
Present.
I watch her from beneath my eyelashes;
she is more
Beautiful
Than any movie star because she is so alive.
Turning here, bending and stretching, she is
Graceful and quick,
Not a wasted movement.
I watch her began to knead the bread.
It speaks of creation to me.
I am in awe as the dough becomes smoother,
firmer.
And, somehow, softer.
I turn over a Jack of Hearts
As he walks through the door.
He is taller than I; older and
More loved in everyway.
No wonder. He is perfection,
Born of her dream and in her image.
I watch in absolute silence
As, bread forgotten, she gathers him
Into her mother-warmth.
The bread loses its shape;
It falls over on its own self.
I see it is hardly bread-to-be
Now, that Mother has her son.
The Jack of Hearts has a drop
Of my blood curling on it.
I shrink into my inner soul;
The terror always there,
Remains forever.

Sharing the Selfish Self
By
RD Larson
People read for different reasons than they did in past years. They would sit around in the evening and read. Or they’d read before bed, not watching the last late night gasp of world news. Or they’d read during lazy Sunday afternoons. They read because it was the MOST entertaining thing to do. Today’s readers now go to the gym, rent DVDs or go online. More work and more fun makes readers feel pressed for time. Yet writers and readers are here together. Still.
Writers today write for different reasons also. It’s less of “I’m written a great story” but more like “I write because I want you to know these people and what they feel” You can‘t do it in a movie or a play. It‘s too personal. It‘s between the writer and the reader when a reader picks up and buys a book from a novelist It‘s a contract hat exists between the two of them, just them, not the other 5000 readers that may have already read it.
As the population enlarges and people are more assaulted by the instant and often demeaning venue of “a picture is worth a thousand words” of advertising and quick fulfillment the reader will want more intimacy with his entertainment. The pleasure of reading will rise again as an expression of thought and companionship. In no other media there are not such a team, a one on one pair, as the reader and the writer. Even with the popularity of Book Clubs and reading groups, it still comes down to the magic that the writer creates for the reader. And the single reader accepts. With a melding of minds and the essence of private communication without the commercials and without the projection from many minds into the reader/viewer, the true self can emerge and contribute to the story in its own unique way.
Sometimes we writers talk about craft and development. But there’s so much more. And our beloved readers know about it. They know there are secret conjuring and undisclosed potions that feed our imagination; readers know the tangles that assault our minds when our characters come alive on the page for first the writer and then the reader. How many times have you read words that said exactly how you felt? Or how you would have faced the situation? Who knows what a person will do when that enigmatic time of choice arrives? That moment that the writer speaks and the reader hears is the unexplained, the mysterious core of our contract.
What am I working on? That is a question that other writers ask and it is the same question that readers ask. It’s a fair question. The reader wants to know if I can do that magic again, make a character real, trust the reader with my life. For writing is my life. What ever Work in Progress is current, that is my life, my reason and my unreason, my cultural translation of my time in life in this time of the ages. It is an admission of the way people are so vulnerable to life. My job is to translate that to understanding to the reader. The readers job is to see with his own vision my story, my sharing of my vulnerable, and, yes, open and selfish self.
What else is left but our care for one another? A writer and a reader care about each other when they share the selfish words of the page. Then it’s no longer selfish, it’s sharing.

zippy dressed up as Marion Riles 

Zippy as Marion Riles

I'm feeling kind of down about another surgery and possible third within a few months. Oh well, no use feeling balky about it. What has to be done is just the facts. I promise I'll get the rest of Sudden Death up before Monday.

Sudden Death
by
RD Larson

Part 4


“Do you know these guys?” Marion waited for Chance to respond. The guy was obviously SO in love with this girl. He looked to be about 25 and had a under-the rock-look. “Hey, Shit-head, answer me. I asked you if you knew the guys?”

Sometimes a little prod with the old foot gives a person the will to talk. So I kicked him a bit. He looked up, temper making his face flush.

“No but I saw them around,” Chance told me, still kneeling with Zoë on his lap. “They came into the shop last week.”

“And what shop would that be?” Marion was getting cranky since he could hear the sirens and wanted to talk to Heap before he heard it on the radio. “Quick, Chance.”

“Harley’s Hogs, at the corner of Milltown and Verna out in the south part of downtown. I work there sometimes.” Finally, the boyfriend had caught on to the fact that Marion eould and could kick his butt all over the place.

“You go to the hospital with her. Stay there. I’ll be around. You leave, you won’t like me so much any more,” Marion said bending over and looking at Chance. When Chance gave a slight nod Chance, he bolted to his car.

As he passed the ambulance he gritted his teeth and grabbed his phone. Dialing with his thumb he got 45th Street station.

“Let me talk to Heap, okay? Right now.”

Sudden Death

A Marion Riles Soft-boiled Detective Story

by

RD Larson
(there's more Marion Riles Stories at www.BeWrite.net under my name)
Part 3

Marion ran toward the covered sports car and pulled back the other side. The side on the street was pock-marked with blasts and as they pulled the canvas back , Marion could see Zoë slumped between the steering wheel and the door. A rivulet of blood trailed down her face.

Chance wrench the door of Jaguar XKE open. Zoë fell into his arms and he gently laid her on the damp pavement.

"This is my fault -- oh, honey, be alright, please Zoë, please," crooned Chance as I dialed 911.

I could see that it wasn' life threatening but never-the-less she needed medical attention. I went over to them.

"Hey, Chance, I'm Marion Riles, friend of Zoë's dad; he's worried about her hanging with you. I'd say about NOW he's got good reason. "

He turned his face toward Marion. Chance actually looked like a fresh-faced kid in hot water. Marion felt sorry for the dumb ass kid. He quickly snatched the Walther P-38 out of his clench hand.


to be continued: (you must realyze that this is a story in construction)

Email this page to a friend

Individual Gold
As if from beyond, is heard a voice,
Calling,
Faint, yet clear, one can hear,
The stream of future thoughts
Not yet born nor yet formed,
For each success, and each gain,
By its nature must preclude,
A struggle,
from choice to finish,
Of a mindful grasp of its valued result.
A search for fulfillment,
Is but true
Exploration of the ages,
For every conquest,
The valiant seek,
Not others to set the goal,
But the conqueror,
His inner clock and self alone
Can know the battles
Won
And feel the peace of work well-done.


© 1998 RD Larson

Salute to Athens and our teams!

Short short Marion Riles Soft-Boiled Detective Story

Sudden Death
by
RD Larson

Part 2

The spatter of shot pinged against the building and sidewalk. The pavement looked like black hail. The dull thud against the canvas car cover made an underbeat. With the sound and the shadows around the ghostly covered car the street seem dreamlike. As Marion watched Chance suddenly stood up with heavy Walther P-38 in his hand. Marion recognized it because it was just like his own.

A shot rang out, hitting one of the intruders in the leg. He was felled like a tree, groaning and crying on the ground. Shot spun out around both men as Chance continued to fire. The unhurt man fired again, closer to the car. Chance blazed away at him, the bullets hitting him the chest.

Marion realized the guy had on body armor and wouldn’t go down. Numb, Marion watch the man grab his wounded partner by the arm and drag him to the van. Chance quit firing and watched in silence as the men struggled into their Honda.

As they drove away, Chance began to rip the cover off the car in a frantic hurry.

To be continued:

Short short Marion Riles Soft-Boiled Detective Story

Sudden Death

When his old friend called him and asked him to check on his daughter’s new boyfriend, Marion at first refused. He didn’t like to stir around in family potties.

“Come on, Zoë is a kid. she just turned eighteen two weeks ago. And she thinks she’s grown-up, and I‘m scared,” said Heap Matthews. “She wants to be free of her mother. And me too. Damn it to hell.”

Marion had a hard time picturing the kid he’d known for ten years being an adult. It seriously hurt his “feel-young” attitude. Against his better judgment Marion told Heap he’d take a look at the guy.

Writing the name and address down, Marion scowled. Chance Beebe. He’d heard that name somewhere, but how and in what context? Heap had said he’d run a check on the boyfriend down at the station but it had come back clean. Still, he’d had a feeling about this Chance dating his sweet young daughter. But now Marion couldn’t place the name but he knew it.

After a bologna and sour Kraut sandwich, he jumped in the old blue Ford. He could feel that a bubble from the kraut sitting just over his gut. He ate some breath mints and six Tums; then he started up and drove over to the neighborhood where Chance Beebe was supposed to be living with his sister.

Lights were just coming on in the kitchens on the block when Marion nosed the Ford to the curb. It was a big, dilapidated house that had been converted to a four-plex. Some kind of sports car under a cover sat in front. Around the bottom of the car ran a steel wire with a padlock so big that Marion could almost read the numbers from his car.

He got out and went over to it. As he bent down to peek under the canvas skirt the frigging alarm went off. He ran like hell to a dark brushy tree across the street. As he turned to watch, a sinewy young guy came out, all muscled up with his hair buzzed off. He was wearing shades and didn’t take them off as he slowly walked around the car. Marion could almost feel his eyes darting around, trying to spot him.

Damn glad he was wearing dark clothes, Marion hunched down by the bush. Uh-oh, the kraut bubble was about to escape. Gritting his teeth, Marion held firm until the other man went back inside. Good thing, too, else he’d be up for murdering him with poisonous gas.

A screech of tires from the corner caught his attention. He stared as a Honda Acura spun around the corner. The darkened windows hid the occupants. Chance Beebe ran behind his car. Marion felt rather than saw the headlights sweep over him. He knew Chance had seen him and maybe so had the driver of the Honda. He crouched lower as the car jerked to a stop.

Two men jumped out of the back. Marion saw they carried sawed-off shotguns.

To Be continued:

I'm home; didn't have to stay in the hospital. Feeling pretty good after a very long day. A friend wrote that my head was full of computer ink, and I just loved hearing that. I'm sure I will be back my high speed in a day or so. Thank you EACH for your kind and good thoughts. It matters to me.

For those of you who love Erle and Stumpy stories, in only 402 words:

http://www.bewrite.net/free_fiction/flash_fiction/500_words_6.htm#PeakHigh

Night dreams bent on a post,
scattered thoughts on a line;
feathered fears caught on a wing,
gathered,
spending in the daylight hours.

Hi!:D

I heard from cardiology this AM. Leaky right valve and increase in right side of heart. It's not a problem yet, but my doctor will follow up on it. Green light for surgery on Friday.

Now the good news. At www.BeWrite.net, my story is up at first place



If you haven't read this funny, cross-species romance yet, give it a go.

Thanks. RD

pre-op stuff today. Echogram and EKG. Chat with doctors. Long day though.

In honor of the Olympics!

Individual Gold

By

RD Larson

As if from beyond, is heard a voice,
Calling,
Faint, yet clear, one can hear,
The stream of future thoughts
Not yet born nor yet formed,
For each success, and each gain,
By its nature must preclude,
A struggle,
from choice to finish,
Of a mindful grasp of its valued result.

A search for fulfillment,
Is but true
Exploration of the ages,
For every conquest,
The valiant seek,
Not others to set the goal,
But the conqueror,
His inner clock and self alone
Can know the battles
Won
And feel the peace of work well-done.


for Steven
1998
By
RD Larson



and





No redemption
By
RD Larson

He knows his fractured death,
Lies so very near indeed.
He keens to carry on, blinded
By the shadow of his bleed.
Glitter hangs in shreds
Once he stood, man-seed,
Now he crumples, falls
Curled now in fetal need
That falls to fatal curl.

Can't seem to write today. On Sunday, sweet Sunday, with nothing to do. It's been so nice that I'm just languid, thinking I should be drinking a cool drink instead "getting bizzee" Like Sci-Fi???? -- try this --

http://home.earthlink.net/~mimibelle/StoryLRD1.htm

Instinctive Fear By RD Larson

Medic stuff over 4 NOW. Still feel hostile, though. Cranked over Bush & Kerry! Want to know why B wears military-looking duds. LQQKing forward to debates. I am so loving this summer. green and gold. Nice big check yesterday. It's wonderful to get paid for my words. It makes me humble. And makes up for the hours of rewrite. Working on the new Erle & Stumpy story -- Erle opens a diner with a black Navy (is that confusing? colorwise?) cook named... ta -- DA-- what else? COOKIE! I know you're waiting for a new story but it comes when it comes. Hope you're enjoying the one at www.footstepstooxford.com. Read the editor's bio. It's great. My town is so small that the meter reader does double duty as the bomb-sniffng dog. (my joke of the day) Tuesday, July 27, 2004 Story up at http://footstepstooxford.com/ bottom right Sunday, July 25, 2004 Mirror Pie by RD Larson I stumble, the mirror falls, shattered. I pick it up, a broken pie in slices now. My image fractured, my faith and inward self. This glittering vision is it real or is it fool's gold? A slice of self is all I see, A slice of self is all I show. Other slices of the mirror pie are secrets never shared. Ala mode. And not. Saturday, July 24, 2004 I'm so opinionated that I can't make up my mind. But then sometimes I do. I like Bush's dog. I love my dog. I don't think Bush's got the overview. But then how can Kerry since he's not privy to all (ALL) the secrets of the Power Train. Also how come Condi isn't in CHARGE of all INTELLIGENCE?  I somehow thought that was her job. She ought to get with Jack Bauer in the next 24 and see what he knows. Ever see Three Days of the Condor?  me, too. When that old movie was made there was intelligence "gathering" -- so what happened. Hot as fried snot here today. For me anyway.  Just read http://coolshots.blogspot.com/2004/07/am-in-am_23.html of beFrank. Cool site and well done. www.RDLarson.com Friday, July 23, 2004 eye guess!  Thursday, July 22, 2004 Well, I didn't submit Sea Phantom but I did submit "K9 Delivery" more suited to general audiences. Hot today.  Wonder about the 9-11 commission?  Me too. Haven't heard any more about the food for oil scandal either. Bush has such a smirk. Cheney's so big business. Edwards is so slick. Kerry is so chameleon. What a decision.  Good for Puff Daddy though! Get out the vote. Sign up and do your job and I will too. But if you don't I won't either. So there. :P   Wednesday, July 21, 2004 I'm thinking I'll submit the story called for lack of better title, Phantom of the Sea, to the local fair. I don't know. I'm so shy. Bad form for a writer. As writers we have to promote our books all the time. I like the way the story reads -- the revenge and finality of it. Still recovering from invasive procedure but then knowledge is power. Too tired to write much today. I've been unable to sit still for long. It was suggested I wear a sign saying, TYPE A ON BOARD.   Friday, July 16, 2004 My little black dog tried to fight with a pit bull tonight. Lucky him -- the dog couldn't get out of the big red truck. www.BeWrite.net   Romance?  A little humor?  Going to the beach? Go to the site above. My story, Flora is number #2. Copy it and paste it in a new document.  Print it out or suck it in to you Palm or keep it on your PC desk top.  Don't like Romance or Cats?  Send it to someone you know does. What you can do for me, if you read it and like it, please go back to the site and say something NICE about it Wednesday, July 14, 2004 I've got a short up at www.Usless_Knowledge .com -- musings of a dead sort. Monday, July 12, 2004 long day, long event. no problem. C, thanks for the poem. Sunday, July 11, 2004 Writers2 here's a good story with a kicker for an ending. Geoff is so good to read. Me? Just going to hang by a hangnail for the time being. Ye gods, but it's a bit grim so far. The smallest of arrows falls the biggest of men. (and wor-mans, too!) ---->----->-® Friday, July 9, 2004 Sunny here today. Having oysters. That's white right? But no salsa on them. I bought some green sauce. Green like my eyes. Tomorrow night it's clear liquids and I don't think that means gin and tonic. Oh am I ever bummed out! Bummed get it? (y) isLAND SUNSET  Wednesday, July 7, 2004 I've been working on my website. I've got a story of mine up there. A great story about the Prince of Foxes by Will Gray and a sci-fi by Geoff Nelder. Go thru the pages. see what you like. you could even find a picture of a NEAR MISS. With me it's always a NEAR MISS! Monday, July 5, 2004 I hope you writers out there didn't blow off your fingers playing with fireworks. The world needs writers to show the secret truths of life. Sunday, July 4, 2004 Big time happy fourth to you one and all, American or not. Let's hope that next year this sad Country is truly happy. Without a war and without Bush. Thank you servicemen and women for being and doing. Thank you founding fathers (and mothers) for this great country. Don't drive drunk and don't play with guns. Or run with scissors either. Monday, June 28, 2004 I have a new story up at www.BeWrite.net. Flora's House of Decor. Publisher writes glowing remarks. Also have a story in the top ten. I hope you enjoy them. Monday, February 9, 2004 Walking carefully on the pea gravel, Najean walked to the bar door and pulled open the dusty screen door into the dim darkness. The windows were grimed over, but light came from a neon Stroh's sign and the light behind the bar itself. As Najean walked across the floor her shoes made a little slapping sound as the heels hit her flesh heels. She slid one butt cheek up on the red plastic stool and dropped her keys on the dark wood bar. Tune in for more about Najean's life and the Gumtree Bar & Grill. It was hot, real hot. Najean pulled into the gravelled parking lot. Turning off the car she sighed and lifted her hair off of her neck. The dust in the parking lot added yet another layer to the fading blue paint of the ten-year old toyota. Najean opened the door and slid out, her cotten dress clinging to her back and rear. Sunday, February 8, 2004 oh on second thought -- don't bother -- you wouldn't want to read anything that is so simple and so good. Who gives a toot about Jackson's malfunction? People watch sex in the city and friends and ed -- they're all sleeping with each other? duh? Some far right brained broad in Tushietown is up in arms. Bet her BF thinks she a twit. New story up at www.BeWrite.net. Day Old Newspaper. oh read it -- you know you want to............... Sunday, January 25, 2004 Sunday, sweet Sunday with nothing to do. Fat chance. Gung Ho Fat Choy -- Year of the Monkey. I will finish Call Girl Calling today. It's funny. I will work on "Falling." "Yes", she said, "people do tell me I'm driven to write. It's a curse, perhaps an addiction. I'm somewhat obsessive anyway." The interview's eyes glazed over. He'd heard it all before. The writer threw her red fuzzy hat in his face. "I know you would rather hear about the Vesuvian Alien muse that water tortures me and the bull that paws and snort in anticipation of a charche. Really, I'm trying to simplify my answers so that you're not confused." too early for lucidity Saturday, January 24, 2004 hey I'm getting famous -- in the local newspaper and also up for a national reward -- the EPPIc award in March in Oklahoma City. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom) Blog Archive ►  2007 (4) ►  January (4) ►  2006 (56) ►  November (3) ►  October (9) ►  September (3) ►  August (8) ►  July (4) ►  June (5) ►  May (6) ►  April (4) ►  March (5) ►  February (3) ►  January (6) ►  2005 (159) ►  December (3) ►  November (11) ►  October (14) ►  September (12) ►  August (17) ►  July (17) ►  June (7) ►  May (11) ►  April (8) ►  March (24) ►  February (17) ►  January (18) ▼  2004 (91) ▼  December (13) Here it is nearly the end of the year 2004. And th... Mole Asses subtitle: (before she was the PM) By RD... New Bumper Sticker Now Circulating:"2008 - RUN HIL... Merry and Happy also I'm feel fine. Well, okay be... santaPosted by Hello So are you sitting at home tonight? Trying to figu... Beautiful Christmas to you, my friendly reader out... Yahoo Personals Ever think about what Christmas i... Even if I don't know you I am sure you are sad thi... Yahoo Personals It's on the ceiling: it's on the ... Yahoo PersonalsCan't sleep. Ate cereal now eating ... I'm left. where are you:Posted by Hello Stop in the name of common sense.Posted by Hello ►  November (8) Then one night as I slept a sudden burst of clear ... Oh well, chat you via my blog soon. Posted by Hello Fall Mist -- am missing my place here and haven't ... Yahoo Personals I'm kind of down today. Busy day a... I'm finally a calender girl -- also read my stori... Yahoo Personals first calendar for me Oh yeah a... Forget the election. It's over. Go shopping. Go fo... writer at large BLOG insystem All of us mass debat... ►  October (18) writer at large BLOG insystem I actually got a thr... Get out there and VOTE. Posted by Hello http://www.bewrite.net/free_fiction/romance/floras... Mt St Helen's an angry repressed youngster steamin... dog and beach. peace. Good. Just Good Life.Posted ... Mt. St. Helen's rumbles. Posted by Hello New contributor RD Larson has a new secretary for ... Erle's Common Law WifeBitterShe wants to leave,He ... Yahoo Personals The Sky, The Earth By RD Larso... Yahoo Personals WRITER at large BLOG insystem S... Yahoo Personals Could it be that the blind have s... Bush is so petulant; so whiny and so poorly inform... wind from debates  Hello  CHENEY AND EDWARDS pretty good show, eh? Edwards ... If you have NOT registered to vote DO IT NOW becau... http://home.earthlink.net/~scific/StoryLRD2.htm T... Books A Million Halloween story up now! I'll put... ►  September (14) My dog was hurt today. He fell off the daybed. He'... Wrapped by RD Larson Night dreams bent on a post, ... Alien dash Go have some fun. Happy Tooze Day 2 U. I got lost today. And a nice person came by and br... one of my very favorite editors, Tanya Vece, bril... writer at large BLOG Tired of sitting around on my... Next installment of Sudden Death, as I promised; I... The Sky, The Earth by RD Larson Terror from terr... just found out I'll have to take it easy a bit lo... Sharing the Selfish Self By RD Larson People read ... zippy dressed up as Marion Riles  Zippy as Marion Riles <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> I'm feeli... I'm not so good but am home and feeling better eve... ►  August (14) Part 5 “Hey, is that you, Maryanne?” Heap always ... Like sci-fi? You'll love Cleve Gibson from the UK ... <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <!-- End... <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <!-- End... Sudden Death A Marion Riles Soft-boiled Detectiv... Email this page to a friend <!-- End Bravenet.... Salute to Athens and our teams! <!-- End Bravenet... <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <!-- End... <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <!-- End... <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <!-- End... <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <!-- End... <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <!-- End... <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <!-- End... Can't seem to write today. On Sunday, sweet Sunday... ►  July (17) <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <!-- End... <!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --> <!-- End... Mirror Pie by RD Larson I stumble, the mi... I'm so opinionated that I can't make up my mind. B... eye guess!  Well, I didn't submit Sea Phantom but I did submit... I'm thinking I'll submit the story called for lack... My little black dog tried to fight with a pit bull... www.BeWrite.net   Romance?  A little humor?  Goi... I've got a short up at www.Usless_Knowledge .com -... long day, long event. no problem. C, thanks for th... Writers2 here's a good story with a kicker for an... Sunny here today. Having oysters. That's white rig... isLAND SUNSET  I've been working on my website. I've got a story ... I hope you writers out there didn't blow off your ... Big time happy fourth to you one and all, American... ►  June (1) I have a new story up at www.BeWrite.net. Flora's... ►  February (4) Walking carefully on the pea gravel, Najean walked... It was hot, real hot. Najean pulled into the grave... oh on second thought -- don't bother -- you wouldn... Who gives a toot about Jackson's malfunction? Peo... ►  January (2) Sunday, sweet Sunday with nothing to do. Fat chan... hey I'm getting famous -- in the local newspaper ... ►  2003 (23) ►  December (1) ►  November (5) ►  October (2) ►  August (11) ►  June (1) ►  May (3) ►  2001 (2) ►  January (2) ►  2000 (5) ►  November (2) ►  October (3) Links My WEB PAGE Mama Tried to Raise a Lady FOOTSTEPStoOXFORD Bewildering Stories Useless Knowledge About Me View my complete profile   beach Summer Sunset