I use Google Alerts to let me know any time something is posted on the internet with my name and/or the titles of my books. My present this morning was a review of Veil of Deception from You Gotta Read Reviews. Shira, the reviewer, gave our book a “You Gotta Read” rating – the highest possible. She says:

Veil of Deception made me feel as though I were a part of this close knit community. I was the neighbor that got to peek into the lives of my neighbors sight unseen. I got to call them a best friend, a sister, or a brother. I felt their joys, pain, and anguish. I wanted to meddle and give my opinion every once in a while. I loved Danielle. She was such a strong woman that lived with a secret that haunted her for ten years. I felt that Hawk needed to stand up to his sister in law and tell her what he honestly thought. I enjoyed this book because it flowed. Even though there were two authors, it was very seamless. I enjoyed being a resident of Spenser Lake even for a few hours.

For Big Mike and I, this review is confirmation that our long months of work on Veil of Deception paid off. Yes, it was difficult at time, and even frustrating, but the experiment was a success. I know one of Mike’s biggest fears is that the reader would be able to tell the difference between our two writing styles but this was unfounded.

Now if we can just get our current collaboration, Whispers of Innocence, finished we will both be happy! If anything, I think it will be even better than Veil of Deception but we’ll leave that up to the readers.

Little Candy

After three decades of marriage, I’ve concluded that men suffer from what I call “Moth to the flame” syndrome. Even though we’ve been burned by the fire, we always come back again What do I mean? I have been sent out on a hundred assignments by my boss, and every single time I screw up, but instead of just saying, “Oh, no, there’s no way you’re going to get me this time”, I do it over and over again. And it’s not only me. All my buds suffer from the same sad condition.

Case in point. My wife wanted a new floor mat for the front door and assigned me the job of running down to the store and getting it (the old one was too ugly and we had company coming in from out of town). Now, in my defense, I did ask, “What color?”, “Doesn’t matter,” What shape?”, “doesn’t matter”, “What size?” “Doesn’t matter.” Well you get the idea. The kicker is that I ran through the same series of probing questions every time before, but I still always got the wrong thing, and like a moth to the flame, I always raced back into the fire again and again.

As I pondered carefully at the store over a four-dollar purchase, a young man saw me struggling and came over to help the old man examining every single floor mat in the display over and over.

“Can I help you, Sir?”

“Afraid not, Son.”

“Well, I’d like to try.”

“All right. My wife sent me to the store to find…” I didn’t have to finish my thought. With a sad expression and an understanding tone, he slowly shook his head. “I hear you brother.”

“Then you know…”

“Yes, I know. No matter what you do, it will be wrong.”

We both synchronized with lamenting head nods while the young man shared his own experience.

“Two weeks ago, I asked my newlywed wife, ‘Babe, what’d say we drive up the Blue Ridge and afterward stop for lunch. This will be your day, what ever you want.’ You see, I thought I was doing a good thing. I even asked, ‘What time do you want to stop for lunch’ and she said, ‘Oh, I don’t care you decide’ So around 1100 we were passing peaks of otter (a local restaurant) and she mentioned, ‘Isn’t that a cute little place over there?’ I nodded in agreement and kept driving. After another fifteen minutes I noticed the car had become strangely quiet. She was no longer humming or chatting about this and that. All the morning cheer had been replaced by a frown. ‘What’s the matter, Babe?’ I asked. She looked out the window and announced, ‘You don’t really love me anymore, do you?’ Man, I swear, I almost ran off the road. ‘What? Well of course I love you. You mean everything to me.’ ,‘Then why didn’t you stop when I asked you to? I thought you said this trip was about me?’”

I could see moisture forming in the poor boy’s eyes. “I swear man. I never knew when she said that ‘cute little place’ she meant…”

I firmly patted his shoulder and suggested, “I know son. Don’t try to figure it out. Just accept the inevitable. You will always be wrong. As the years go by, you’ll grow to accept your destiny, grasshopper.”

We both shook hands and departed with a profound appreciation for a man’s suffering and willingness to continually return to the flame. Oh, and I did get the wrong floor mat, but you knew that was coming didn’t you?

Michael Davis (Davisstories.com)
Author of the year, 2008

Big Mike took exception to the guy’s comments because he didn’t think it was realistic. Now maybe it’s because Mike was raised as a Southern gentleman and I was raised around men in an auto parts store, but we had a slight difference of opinion. Big Mike contends that the hero would never have stood by while this dialogue was going on, even if the woman was a complete stranger. Alas, but not all men are as chivalrous.

I can think of several instances where I’ve encountered a real jackass. I’ve had an ex-boyfriend slash my tires and throw a knife into the headlights on my beloved Chevy Camaro Berlinetta while I watched. In a previous post, I related how a manager of mine in the auto parts store pounded his fist on the counter mere inches from my face. I’ve been the target of many a raised fist (that luckily never made contact due to the man’s better judgment kicking in at the last minute). I’ve head crude comments when I was walking down the street, such as “Hey honey! Looking good! Want to come for a ride with me?” I’ve seen rude hand gestures, heard smoochy noises, and been subjected to unwanted touching and groping.

In none of these cases did some knight in shining armor come to my rescue, even when there were other men around. Nope, I was on my own.

I have to think I’m not the only one. Ladies, tell me if you’ve encountered a similar circumstance in your life.

1.    A cute little think happened on my visit to my grand daughter (Emma) over xmas. Christmas day I told Emma, “Go pick out one of you new books you got from Santa and I’ll be in to read it as soon as I get a glass of tea”. So, I took only a few minutes, I swear, just two minutes, and she sticks her little head out of her room and yells, “Damn it, Pa Pa, come on!” We all looked at each other and within ten seconds, she yelled again, “And I do mean Damn it!”  You should have seen her stance: hands on hips, cocked head, swirls around and stomps away. Now remember, she’s only two Yeah, I recognize we have a firecracker in the making. But let’s face it. She’s just doing what comes natural, you know, being a bossy impatient female (g). She is the sparkle in my life. What a pickle.

2.    About eight years ago, before I retired, there where about six guys sitting around the cafeteria table at lunch discussing how bossy women could get.  Our bud, Pete walks in with a sad sack, over hears our discusses and adds, “I feel your pain, brothers. I never realized how messed up I was till I had daughters (poor Pete has five and a wife going through the change). They correct my choice of tie, the sox I wear, how I drive, what I eat. Man, I can’t do anything right.” As Pete hung his head, the rest of us looked at each other, got down on our knees and paid respect to the poor tortured soul.

Both these stories are true and are but a small sample of the hundreds of incidence where the genes of a tiny woman take over and they become the task master over us full grown men. What I can’t figure out is why we luv em so damn much (g).

Till next time.

Big Mike
Davisstories.com

For some reason, it seems us women out here in the West are a bit more self-sufficient, though. We live by the code “git ‘er done” and we’re not afraid to get our hands dirty.

I’ve got a couple examples to illustrate my point about generalizations.

For instance, when we were writing Veil of Deception, Big Mike came up with a scene whereby the hero would take the heroine fishing and used the premise that the heroine had no experience in the sport. Now Veil of Deception takes place in a fictional lake community in Virginia. The heroine had lived in this community for a decade longer than the hero and had a boat dock on her property. There was just no way I could write a scene where the heroine was ignorant of fishing. What was she doing living all these years on the lake with a boat dock if she didn’t know how, or didn’t like, to fish?

According to Big Mike, in the real lake community where he lives, there are no single women who fish. Having just spent the summer going out on the lake in a boat with some friends of mine, baiting my own hook with night crawlers I dug out of a container, and catching trout on every trip (my husband has no interest), this just didn’t make sense to me. However, Big Mike was just using his own experience in his own locale to draw a picture of the heroine as he saw her. In the end we compromised and I agreed that maybe the heroine just hadn’t been fishing for stripers before.

Another time, Big Mike and I were chatting with some of our fellow authors in a Yahoo group and he happened to post that there was at least one thing women needed a man for: to kill spiders. I wasn’t the only one who immediately responded by saying if I were afraid of spiders, I’d never get able to get out of bed in the morning! Although I keep a clean house, I’ve got more spiders living in my mountain home year round than I have pine trees in my yard. And honestly, my husband is way more afraid of them than I am. My philosophy is “live and let live”. As long as I don’t see a brown recluse or black widow, I let the critters cohabitate and catch all the other bugs.

But again, this was a gender generalization because Big Mike’s wife is afraid of spiders.

I could be wrong, but I don’t think females suffer from this affliction quite as much as males. After all, if a man cooks dinner and cleans the house and writes romantic love scenes, we tend to say “Ah! How sweet! What a great guy!”. However, if a woman works on her own vehicle, fishes and hunts, and uses power tools, too often she’s seen as less than feminine, and it’s a negative trait.

In fact, if you read the comment Big Mike made in response to a comment from Mindy and I about “The Rear View” he states that he thinks we’re both just tomboys and anomalies in the world of the female. Naw, Big Mike, it’s just that we’re western women and we know how to “git ‘er done”!

I think we’re starting to close the gap, ladies, but we’ve still got a long way to go.

Candace Morehouse
www.candacemorehouse.com

Now I could understand if it was a Ford F300 or Dodge Ram or a boat trailer was attached, but I’m talking compacts to medsize. Its so bad, that when my wife has her club meetings at our house (yeah, like today), I have to back up and park everyone’s vehicle. Had a few husbands get out their shotguns cause the ladies back up across their flower beds.

I’m not being a smart butt on this one, I just what to understand. There’s got to be a reason. Any inputs are appreciated.

Big Mike

Davisstories.com

Now you did it! Calling me mushy in front of all these people. Thank God my buds don’t read my posts. I’d lose all status as the alpha male.

Just kidding. Candi does bring up a good point. One of my future posts deals with the misunderstandings between men and women. It’s important to note that generalizations are just that, they do not represent the total distributions of a group. There are men that couldn’t care less about the internal voices women deal with, or the disparity and difficulty that our sizes create in the stuff women have to deal with. But most of the men I call “bud” do care. Why? It’s hard to truly adore a female as a man and not have a soft side to their confusing nature and vulnerability. Regardless whether it’s a wife, girlfriend, daughter or grand daughter; you can’t truly hold that woman in your heart and not feel soft things about her. Doesn’t mean women don’t confuse us, cause YOU do. But in a strange way, if you’re secure in your manhood, you just love em more for what they are.

Men, I mean those that care for the whole woman, do talk about relationships with their buds. Bet you didn’t know about that did ya. And it seems that the older you get, the more observant men become about the gender delta in terms of the demons that threaten women. Could be as you age you gain perspective, or maybe the overpowering shift in blood flow from your brain to a man’s central organ slows down and the animal side chills a bit. The difference is, we don’t talk about relationships in a chat group. It’s always been guy to guy style. And most men will never be conformable about exposing their soft side in an open forum. We have to maintain that macho image to keep from being razed constantly. Every heard a woman call another woman a wussy? I doubt it. But there is a “don’t lose face” nature between men to reduce the bully tendency of some males. For me, I don’t really care what others think. A little razing is natural and enjoyable, but if it goes too far, a cocked eyebrow from the big guy can nip it. I only care what those that love me think and they would never diss the big guy for exposing his under belly.

Ref the Veil of Deception novel, now come on Candi, you have to admit it. Dani is a much more alluring and lovable character for both male and female readers as a compassionate vulnerable person with conflicts and internal vulnerabilities. I actually fell in love with Danielle, and I think others will also.

As for aggressive women, most that exhibit such tendencies do so as a protective response to being burned or hurt somewhere alone life’s path. In my career I’ve worked with hundreds of females in a professional environment. Many felt the aggressive shield was necessary for defensive purposes, or maybe they read to many feminist articles. With very few exceptions, those that exhibited an aggressive nature were actually hiding their true feminine insides. You just had to get to know them, then the shield came down. Yeah, in the same way many men hide their soft side. There are anomalies of course (two female congresspersons come to mind) but in my view, most aggressive shields are for protection of the soft interior, even with Candi. Now you exposed me, so it’s only fair play, right? Yes, Candi does exhibit the shield, but I’ve peered through it, and there is a tender feminine woman in there, and I luv even feisty ouch of the CowGirl. Tell the truth, CG. Weren’t you moved by the pain and struggle that both the hero and heroine in VOD had to overcome. You bet you were. See, you’re not as “tough as nails” as you thought.

On, one more thing. I will admit to being a softy for loven, but make no mistake. Anyone ever harms someone I love, hell won’t come fast enough for them. I make no bones about it. May end up in the slammer, but no demons that hard my loved ones will be protected by our inept legal system. There is a dark side to the big guy, and I wouldn’t apologize or deny it.

Tell next time
Big Mike
Davisstories.com

I have never learned more about gender differences before embarking upon this adventure of writing a collaborative novel with Big Mike.

Probably the oddest thing I’ve noticed along the way is that he is way more mushy than I am. Yeah, he’s a big guy – and I can attest to this as I have met him in person. Totally analytical, or so one would think. Left brain, type A personality. Logical. Empirical. Scientific. Understands processes on a level way beyond my comprehension or way of thinking.

Yet, this big, analytical guy is a just a soft marshmallow inside.

There were many scenes in our book which we disagreed on. And the biggest factor involved? Big Mike wanted the heroine to show more emotion, to be more vulnerable, more needy. I, on the other hand, wanted her to be more aggressive. In my mind, Danielle has no need of a man. She is self-sufficient. Yet according to the other half of my writing team, she should be needy. This goes against everything I’ve ever thought I knew about the opposite sex. After all, don’t most men run when faced with a needy female?

In retrospect I believe that we, as authors, place many of our own personality traits on the characters we create. So, for the two of us, that means Big Mike is way more emotional than me and that I am way more aggressive than he is used to. It’s funny, but we appear to have challenged the ‘normal’ gender roles. The big guy is all soft inside and the little woman is tough as nails.

Who’da thunk it?

It’s worth exploring in more depth, and I will do so in future posts.