Sam Ingraffia Presents The Right Stiff: A Charlie McGinley Mystery - And...Say What?!

 “A writer must stare at a blank page until blood comes out of their forehead." --Ernest Hemingway

Also, A Dark, Comedic, New Mexico Whodunit (Humorous Amateur Sleuth Noir Crime Thrillers Book 1)

LOL

I have to say that this may be the longest subtitle of a book I've ever seen... I can't quite figure out whether the writer didn't know which to use, or, that, it was very important that the potential reader knew what they were getting into...

Ok Comedic and Humorous could mean the same thing...

Whodunit implies mystery, but this is a crime thriller also... multiple genre, right...

Most books don't declare the setting as Really Important... New Mexico must have different types of stories to tell???

Or does this all mean that the writer wants us to know in advance to beware of the story???

We'll See, I'm game, but are you?

And by the way, when I typed in the title, Google Search automatically changed stiff to stuff...

Kinda makes you wonder, doesn't it?

Is this book really worth all this trouble to get to start reading... This one wants to know, So I did start...

My first check is always on You Tube... You guessed it, all the videos came up about Good Stuff...

Doesn't anybody know that Stiff is another word for a dead person?

I did...but maybe I know "stuff" about "stiffs..."

I've read or watched stories enough about them so I'm good for just about any description to say that somebody is dead...

How they're dead is the key...

But I can also remember that Hammer--you know who he is, I hope--called bodies stiffs--I think!

Anyway, all this is to show writers that if you add all this stuff onto your subtitle, readers just may never be able to find you, especially on sites that require a full book title, including subtitle...

Believe me, I know... I could have just been linked to the book, bought it, and then when I wanted to find it again to review, I can't find it! Writers need to know about the full idiosyncrasies of selling books, in my opinion... LOL

Or, I am just silly this morning realizing that I may be the only person in the world that knows what a stiff is...

Writers Beware...

On with the story

But, let's get one thing straight...

Death is not a funny matter

Is Fiction Now Reality?

And can a whodunit ever be a comedy?

I think so, because these actions by authoritarian leaders are NOT LEGAL!

And do not reflect the will of All Peoples!

TJ Poortinga Presents Electric Orange - Wild Weird and Wonderful!

“Professor!” Kuiper exclaimed. “Is the rumor true? Did you tell the president to build a wall?” “Don’t Change Horses Midstream!” Verboom bayed, running circles around Kuiper and the guests. He yanked the lapels of his tweed jacket over his blond hair and looped the anchor’s desk like a headless horseman, shouting more historic slogans. “A Chicken In Every Pot! The Buck Stops Here! All The Way With LBJ!” He neighed like a feral stallion. “It’s The Economy, Stupid! Ross For Boss!” He stopped himself with invisible reins, lowered his jacket, glanced side to side, and asked Kuiper in a whisper: “Yes We Can?” “Can we, professor?” Kuiper demanded. “Can we get God out of government?” Now trotting in place, Verboom chanted boldly: “Yes We Can! Yes We Can!” “There’s no wall between church and state!” scoffed the theologian. “There’s a wall higher than any ladder!” the historian shot back. Verboom flung his arms wide and sang, “Ain’t no ladder high enough! Ain’t no pundit low enough! Ain’t no angle wide enough. To keep me here talkin’ with you.” Then he galloped off stage, tearing through the greenroom, racing down the hall, clattering down the emergency stairs, and bursting through the exit door onto the frigid streets of Capitol Hill.

“When negotiations hit a wall, the rep asked: ‘What’s it going to take to get you in this truck?’ The answer came naturally, ‘The Flying Dutchman on surround sound.’ So, the guy ran to a music shop and came back with a version on CD.” “Richard Wagner, huh?” I smirked. “Flight of the Valkyries would’ve better set the mood.” “Woulda, coulda, shoulda!” He threw up his bare arms, pretending to conduct an orchestra of what-ifs.

The car ahead of us on the freeway had a bumper sticker: HONK FOR FREEDOM. Verboom read it aloud, slowly, as if weighing each word. “Hands off the horn, Santo. No telling what kind of freedom they’re after.”

(NPR) “From Washington, the president refuses to comment on Final Freedom or distance himself from the E.C.S. fellow Dr. Pieter Cornelius Verboom. Our sources, speaking only on background, debate whether the nascent movement is a serious political force or a stunt for the attention-starved. Opinions are split—some see Dr. Verboom as the mastermind of a revolution, others as an accidental prophet whose message was taken...” “Backasswards,” Verboom said, reaching over to mute the radio. “Isn’t the phrase ass-backwards?” Without answering, he switched the audio to CD. The opening strains of The Flying Dutchman filled the truck, and he let it play through—twice—without another word about politics. As our chariot rolled into the high desert city of Flagstaff, Arizona, I asked Verboom how long he planned to stay. He laughed—sharp and unhinged, like a man in need of medication—then mumbled something about Jonah in the belly of a whale. “My father can name every kind of tree,” he said, gazing up at the mountain slopes. “Mainly ponderosa pine, some oak, a few juniper.” “Let’s not get into particulars until they’ve got my mind universalized.” At the clinic, he scrawled my name on the intake form, listing me as his emergency contact and labeling me student. Then he frowned and tore up the form. He asked for a replacement. The second time, he wrote son. I’d like to say the title meant nothing to me, but I can’t. My girlfriend believed I’d become so obsessed with Verboom that he was taking advantage of me. When I told her I was simply following my interests and had genuine respect for his research, she scoffed. She insisted I was shopping for a surrogate father—my mind colonized by his influence and the whole of Western Civilization. Then she twisted the knife, remarking on his overwhelming manliness. “He must have great physical prowess,” she marveled, “in addition to his blind obedience to capitalism.” To my knowledge, he had no commitment to a grand economic theory, but her point was clear: the fact that I so deeply admired a middle-aged Dutchman meant I had failed to see his true nature. As for my dedication to the man, my motives weren’t mixed but many—not a conflict of interests, but a confluence. He was someone I wanted to help, and he was my cover story to get out of town. My quarter-life crisis paired with his midlife crisis. 

For a few days on the open road, I could escape the heavy clouds of Lake Michigan and my heartache, narrowing my role to that of a getaway driver. To catch my breath and make sure Verboom settled in, I decided to stay at a hotel near the clinic. After three days, with my duty complete, I packed for home. Before bidding farewell to the professor, I received a text message. No greeting, no affection—just a blunt declaration: “We should see other people.” My heart pounded hard three times, heat rushing to my face. Embarrassed, I didn’t write back. I’d been saving for a ring, debating whether to surprise her with one or to let her choose. She chose: none of the above. On our first date, she told me I was too diplomatic—the only time she was polite about my politeness. A few months later, she met my mother, who, though frail beneath a wig, summoned the strength to give her approval with awkward gusto. And just like that, a year had passed. Now, I was six states away with my mentor—America’s most notorious social scientist. Not famous for his research, but for being the first man in history to have a nervous breakdown on live television with an encore on radio. Since my coursework was complete, I could write my dissertation anywhere. Why not stay in the high desert? Already sick with grief, and now unceremoniously dumped, going back to campus felt impossible. We knew all the same people. Instead of hiding in my apartment, I decided to stay in Arizona until Verboom checked out. Clearly in need of a long stay, we had his mail forwarded to the clinic. Verboom’s case manager suggested I screen my “father’s” mail for anything triggering, so I intercepted Ella’s letters and stashed them in a size-thirteen shoebox. Once the shoebox filled, I put her letters in a beat-up plastic milk crate I had found behind the clinic’s cafeteria. Some of the envelopes felt like they held Polaroids and pamphlets. I had the nerve to run my fingers over them but not to open them. In addition to Ella’s envelopes, I held back a slew of speaking invitations. On the heels of his radio finale, fringe groups and lone-wolf fanatics began to flood Verboom with speaking requests. The sarcastic screed born in madness was metastasizing, spreading like a chain letter for the terminally outraged. As a swelling congregation of zealots clamored for Verboom to lead them out of the wilderness and into the corridors of power, the media took more notice. The New York Times picked up the Final Freedom story, calling his immodest proposal “an ironic rant taken literally by literalists.” And a leading WNN pundit fumed, “Verboom crashed our last dance with democracy.” More troubling than Verboom’s unraveling was the country’s willingness to embrace a delirious dare. People on the Left understood the rant as irony—which it was. People on the Right took the rant as an invitation to man up. The provocation became a watershed moment, a defining plot point in the media’s election year melodrama. Verboom had baited the American fringe, and they had taken it as the Lord’s Supper. As the spotlight intensified, he sank deeper into denial, refusing any discussion of politics or the press. He began to see the clinic not as a place to heal, but to hide. And yet, even as he closed his eyes and shook his head, his thought experiment took on flesh—and dwelt among us. 

2 Behold! I send you out as sheep among wolves, therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves!” Verboom recited a verse from the Gospel of Matthew, lying in his bed at the clinic, staring at the ceiling... 

~~~

I have to admit a couple of things... I thought the Orange in the title was for one man we all know... I was wrong... Second, when I announced this book and said it was weird... I was right... Because it is so much more...

It is Wild, Weird and Wonderful!

There is so much in this complex book--important info that is helpful at this time of chaos... Most of all that it all started with a man who had a breakdown and threw out words that were picked up by the people who actually liked what he said... and it became a winning slogan...

First, the author started writing the book during the time period when Obama was running for office and then proceeds thereafter... Yet, it many ways, it is not a linear movement in toto. In fact the book runs much like is being used during these days of chaos... it is more by subject or topic... So there will be multiple time periods as we explore the topics presented. And don't expect the topics to be in the right time period... 

There are two main characters who run throughout the book. One of which as I read, I identified as our present president. He is a distinguished professor of psychology in the book, who has begun to have mental lapses... I can only assume that the actions of these two men are based upon similar mental disabilities which many will recognized from our present days of chaos... Only the character in the book has been actually diagnosed as having breakdowns as well as lapses into psychological trauma and flashbacks...

I held back a slew of speaking invitations. On the heels of his radio finale, fringe groups and lone-wolf fanatics began to flood Verboom with speaking requests. The sarcastic screed born in madness was metastasizing, spreading like a chain letter for the terminally outraged. As a swelling congregation of zealots clamored for Verboom to lead them out of the wilderness and into the corridors of power, the media took more notice. The New York Times picked up the Final Freedom story, calling his immodest proposal “an ironic rant taken literally by literalists.” And a leading WNN pundit fumed, “Verboom crashed our last dance with democracy.” More troubling than Verboom’s unraveling was the country’s willingness to embrace a delirious dare. People on the Left understood the rant as irony—which it was. People on the Right took the rant as an invitation to man up. The provocation became a watershed moment, a defining plot point in the media’s election year melodrama. Verboom had baited the American fringe, and they had taken it as the Lord’s Supper. As the spotlight intensified, he sank deeper into denial, refusing any discussion of politics or the press. He began to see the clinic not as a place to heal, but to hide. And yet, even as he closed his eyes and shook his head, his thought experiment took on flesh—and dwelt among us. 

It all began when Verboom was asked to participate in a televised panel discussion. Including Professor Verboom, Social Psychologist, are a theologian promoting Christian Nationalism, a historian tracing US secularism, and a political scientist exposing propaganda. The first issue was aimed at the Professor. “Professor Verboom, sources within the administration claim you told the president to ‘get God out of government,’” and "to build a wall of separation between church and state." His response took it even further. “If God is truly God, how could we get such a Being out of anything?” Then, "Let God" answer the question!"

He ran off the stage, only to have his agent stop him, unsuccessfully, it seemed, when he ran back on stage and shouted. "The Union Shall and Must be Preserved." He howled to the ceiling, darted to the camera and instead of answering the moderator who asked for verification of the first question, Verboom shouted, "Don't Change Horses Midstream..." and then started spouting all of the political slogans he could think off. That is, until he began to calm down but was still pressed as to whether a wall was needed.. to which he now replied “There’s no wall between church and state!” Which could have, of course, meant anything by that time since Verboom was clearly not capable of clearly explaining his position. But that didn't stop those listening deciding exactly what was meant... Because he had again ran out off the stage and this time out of the building...

Santo was Verboom's graduate student assistant and had become almost like a son... In fact, when he had agreed to drive Verboom to a clinic, he wrote on the entry form that the contact individual was Santo, his Son... Santa, for his own reasons, found that he didn't mind that title... But when Verboom began reviewing what had happened and the responses, he told Santo that he realized an ugly thought--he could bring the whole thing down... And heading for a clinic where he couldn't be disturbed was the best hiding place for him to be...

But you can only stay in a clinic as long as you remain visibly disturbed. And that was not true, all the time, for the Professor... Then later he stated, “A terrible notion, of course, an intrusive idea inspired by the myth of Samson pulling down the Philistine temple. The Bible is such a violent book.”

Thus begins a journey of two men--one a professor and his selected assistant... Now a professor without a career with a very intelligent caretaker... With some very interesting points of concern being spouted along the way. Fact: There are more guns than people in the U.S. We are making more guns than babies...

Fact: Americans make up 4% of the world’s population, but we own half of the entire global stock of civilian firearms! Can I get a U-S-A?” “Another fact: We own at three times the rate of Canadians. ‘O Canada! Our home and native land!’” 

“People wander the streets like they’re in another dimension. They don’t ask for money; they speak to the air. They look right through you, like you’re the air. Maybe I’m moving into the next dimension myself. Think I’ll fit in?” “Careful. Conservatives believe all behavior is a free and punishable moral choice, and Liberals think it’s rude to be fascinated by abnormalities—unless that abnormality is conservatism.”

Of course there has to be more to the book, right? Well, it surrounds the professor's agent and her obsession to be wherever the professor is... Yes, sex is involved, but is that all that is driving her to track the professor down no matter where he tries to hide--yes, he has actually asked Santo to keep her away from him... Santo knows why, the professor cannot say no when she comes to be with him... Why? Or is the more important question, why would a beautiful younger woman bother???

But the professor just can't stop talking--sound familiar? So going on the radio becomes the next big announcement! Stay tuned, you might even hear him. Well, no, because he goes by different names... LOL And talk included climate control, God, Jesus, men wearing clothes like Jesus--maybe klansmen... Yeah,,, and the Professor always wore the same outfit that appears on the book cover... Figure this one out! And have fun...

GABixlerReviews

Continued Success by Author Warren Adler Prompts Reading of The War of the Roses

'The War of the Roses' Continues Its Successful International Tour as Both a Stage Play and Musical Following its Flemish tour as a hit musical, the Italian rendition of 'The War of the Roses' as a stage play has opened to rave reviews in Milan's Teatro Manzoni... I'm happy to announce that 'The War of the Roses' stage play is thriving internationally - a deal to roll out the musical in 17 foreign language territories in Europe, Asia and South America was recently signed and while 'The War of the Roses' Italian stage play is currently running in Milan, it will also premiere in Rome. Here's what the Italian critics are saying so far... *translated from Italian Manzoni Theater, 'Roses War' with Ambra Angiolini and Matteo Cremon The Warren Adler novel of 1981, which became eight years later also a huge movie success, is also a starred comedy "...an extraordinary, refined and chaotic comedy at the same time, comical and cruel, ridiculous and crazy..." "Adler faces one of the most powerful and extraordinary human deflagrations: the separation of a man and a woman who shared a great love." "The real war, perhaps far more bloody, will take place within us, in perceiving victims and executioners within our unresolved half, brooding in the bowels of our consciences." "Adler helps us, with a smile, to face this war with courage and lightness." THE ROSES WAR IN MILAN On the stage of the Manzoni Theater is the famous Warren Adler comedy, which was a cinematic success of the late 80s. Protagonists of the show Ambra Angiolini and Matteo Cremon "From there is a crescendo of wickedness, anger, and mutual  frustration that lead to a self-destructive ending." "An apparent, idyllic calm that is uncommonly transformed, almost without any realization, into a storm. From paradise to hell." The Roses War. Manzoni Theater, November 9, 2017 "...Warren Adler naturally keeps the storyline and characters of the novel unaltered and creates, almost without wanting, a work perhaps more suited to a theatrical drama than a film, where drama and comedyare permeable at any time more than can be done in a remarkable film." "Lots of applause even on open stage, with numerous calls at the end, from a crowd enthusiastic in a theater out of stock in every rank of seats." "...the great chandelier, an important object of the whole affair, is rich and brilliant in showing a life that is only apparently apparent but also capable of causing death." The Manzoni Theater in Milan bursts The Roses War: the comedy that creates a great love "In this comedy we are confronted with pure emotions, human nature in all its cruelty, without veils and in the moment of greater weakness: the separation of a man and a woman who shared a great love." "The Roses War, the comedy written by Adler, manages to give us new readings of ourselves, perhaps with lightness and a slight smile on the lips, giving us the opportunity to bend to the other, to open ourselves to the next and to the outside world, where women and men will understand their limits, embrace them and choose to improve each day, for themselves and for each other." Read the Novel That Started It All... Buy Now ...and the Sequel... Buy Now Find your next book! Get exclusive ebook deals delivered straight to your inbox  Explore more at www.warrenadler.com Do you read book descriptions? After I had read a number of books by author, Warren Adler, and now on his newsletter list, I again learned about his popular book, which later became a movie, The War of the Roses. Not having ever been married, I had no real inclination to read about the divorce of a couple... I should have gone with my gut... As I consider celebrating Thanksgiving tomorrow, after finishing the book this morning, I find I do have something to be very thankful for--not ever having been married! When Adler's creative mind moves into "drive," he puts his all into the book he is writing. In this one, apparently, dark comedy. I have once again confirmed to myself that I have a warped sense of humor, also apparently, because I saw nothing funny about the story even while many others have praised it... Now here's the key, since I wasn't sure of the genre as I started to read it, I thought it was family drama and soon considered it horror. Readers, I did not like this book. As you consider whether to read it, realize that I am aware of my own prejudices and willingly share them when I come up with a book that I cannot personally recommend. For me, dark comedy is just making light of the real issues that affects some marriages and obviously lead to either enjoying the satire...or your own divorce...  Still, Adler's story is provocative, compelling, tense and intriguing... How far will this all go? You keep on reading thinking, wanting to intrude into the lives of the characters and...well, start slapping their faces, or heads, likes Gibbs does! I found I would be Ann, who seems to be the only sane one, and even she was obsessively interested in the husband... In fact, when trouble began between the spouses, she was quite willing to seduce and allow her dreams to expand into reality... But once she realizes what is really happening, she wants out... and tries to deal with it, given the position of governess she had held in the house... Adler presents a brilliant assessment of today's materialism, power, and position becoming more important, and/or corrupting what may occur in today's marital life. When possessions become more important than another individual's love and relationship, then, yes, a war may begin... I wonder, though, did Adler write it as a warning, even though the movie caricature apparently became more enjoyed than the book itself... Do check out other reviews...this may be just the book you'd like to read... GABixlerReviews