I Think I'm Growing Up

I grew up in Detroit, my diet of music a combination of hip hop and R&B. The rise and fall of Tupac and Biggie was the era of music I belonged to.  While the two rappers were great story tellers of their time, like most rappers tend to do, some of their songs took on a negative slant concerning women. Tupac was good at that: uplifting women with one song and degrading us with another. I'd hear the misogynistic lyrics and just give it a pass, using the excuse that I'm not one of the hoochie mamas they're talking about in the songs. I'd focus more on the beat and the music, as opposed to what was being said. For years I listened to rap music, without really listening, until recently. When you know better you do better I guess.

This new rap music doesn't hold the same sway for me. Whether it was that way all along and I just ignored it, I don't know, but some of the new stuff is atrocious. The other night I heard a song with some troll who probably looks like something found on the bottom of my shoe calling a woman ugly. Or the song where a rapper boasts about some woman who doesn't like women "but a stack will make her kiss her". Even Usher went that route with a song about some weak minded woman in the club seeking another woman so the three of them can have 'fun'.  Most of what I hear from rappers is how they plan to use and abuse women for their enjoyment. They think that having money and fame gives them the right to treat women like objects to be discarded the next morning. Even Blurred Lines sounded a bit on the rapey side.

Maybe it's because I know and work with women who are fools for men and get heartbroken and played all the time, but the music isn't working for me. For the past few years, my taste in music has been evolving. If it sounds good, I'm there. Occasionally I've even strayed to the country channel. I absolutely love Billy Currington by the way.  I may not give up rap entirely, I'm not perfect and there are some good artists out there, but I'm more picky about what I actually take in.

Superheroes Aren't Just for Geeks

Last weekend, I went to the theater to see Thor. I grew up with my father reading his Silver Surfer and Spiderman comics, which got me somewhat interested in the genre. Its been decades since I've picked up a comic, probably around the last time I picked up a She-ra doll, but I'm very familiar with the characters. I may not read the comics anymore, but I like to watch them on the big screen.

It being the first week of release of this particular movie, I decided to get my seat early. Sitting there I had a ringside seat as the other film goers found their seat. I was quite surprised to find that probably half or over half of the patrons were women. True, some of them may have randomly picked Thor, but for the most part I think Chris Hemsworth and Idris Elba were the big draw. That would explain the gratuitous shirtless scene in the movie with Thor. That scene definitely wasn't for the fan boys, it was a shout out for the ladies.

Going back over the super hero movies that have been released recently, the common factor is that most of them are attractive men. You've got Chris Evans, Hugh Jackman, and Henry Cavill as leading men. All of them good looking actors playing superheroes, all of them with a female fan base.

I for one have watched just about anything Chris Evans was in, years before he ever played Captain America. I happen to think he's good eye candy. Anyone remember Cellular?

And the buzz with the Man of Steel from the ladies over the summer wasn't about the action scenes, but how well Mr. Cavill looked in that Superman suit. I for one enjoyed the shirtless scenes with the manly facial scruff. ; )

My own mother practically swoons every time The Dark Knight Rises is on TV and she hears Bane's distinctive voice. She was so crushed when I told her he wouldn't be in the next Batman reboot.

The trend even spreads outside of the superhero movie genre. I wasn't interested in The Fast and the Furious until they announced that The Rock would be appearing in Fast Five. As long as he's in the franchise I'll park my butt in the seat for every installment. Though Fast Six should be called The Fast and the Furious: Sexy, Sweaty Bald Men in Tank Tops.

I'm glad to see that film makers are paying attention to what women want when it comes to movies. We don't all want the same predictable rom-com's and period pieces. Sometimes we just want mindless action and a good looking man saving the day. And speaking of the Rock, he was also the only reason I went to see that awful GI Joe sequel and if he's in the next one they can go ahead and take my money right now.

Susan Tepes-Ghost Therapist

Susan Tepes arrived home after a long day of shooting her reality show ‘The Ghost Therapist’.  She hated the name, but for the money they were paying her she could have cared less what they called it.  Flicking on the lights to her spacious L.A. apartment, she realized she was not alone. From the corner of the room a vase flew past her, aimed at her head. It ricocheted off the wall behind her. After having just about all her dishes and vases broken by angry spirits, she only used plastic ones  “Missed me!” She yelled.

A large roar filled the empty space and her body was slammed into the living room wall. His body pinned her with his icy breath chilling her neck sending shivers down her spine. Sometimes being a contact psychic was a harrowing. She could touch the spirits and they could touch her, a fact that many deceased male predators relished and sought out those like her for that reason. The chose not to show himself to her, but she could feel his hands sliding down her body and his engorged ethereal member press into her hips.

“Not today” She said out loud. His growling rang in her ears as he punched her in the stomach.  “Stop it!” She commanded as he knocked to her knees. Reaching blindly at the space in front of her she felt his energy and pulled. A thud reverberated throughout her apartment. “Show yourself now!”

“You don’t tell me what to do! I tell you!” His voice distorted with each word.

Placing her hands on her temples she pushed back on his energy force causing shock waves to reveal his teenaged form to her. He was barely sixteen from the looks of him. “You’re just a kid!” 

“I’m man enough!” He roared back. “Just ask my many girlfriends.” 

Susan walked to her kitchen grabbing a stick of sage from the counter. “You mean the women you raped?”

“They asked for it.”

She continued her questioning, lighting the sage. “How did you die?”

Still leering at her he lifted off the ground and flew forward stopping in mid air as the smoke from the sage hit his ghostly form. “What the fuck is that?” 

She smiled, continuing to wave the smoke in circles around him. “Sage. It will make you tell me the truth and keep you from harming me.”

“Bitch!” He barked.

She ignored the insult. “Tell me your name.”

“Joseph.”

“Joseph what?”

“Joseph Kirby.” He spat on her.

“That’s gross!” She said wiped the ectoplasm off her face with a towel. She shoved his form over to a chair at her dining table.

“Ghosts don’t need to sit stupid.”

“That’s true but I do. I see you acknowledge you’re a ghost so we are halfway there.”

“Halfway to what?”

“Moving you on Joseph. So first things first, tell me how you died.” She said placing herself across from him at the table.

He materialized fully in front of her. “I shot myself, you wanna see?” He turned and parted his hair to show her the massive exit wound in the back of his head where his skull should have been, bloody brain matter hung out of the hole. “I stuck the pistol right in my mouth and pulled. My brains splattered everywhere, I can imagine my bitch mother having to pick pieces of my skull and brain out of the rug.” He laughed with an evil twinkle in his ghostly eye.

“Hmm. That’s a pretty violent ending, Suicide actually tells me you must have felt guilt over what you’ve done.” She commented.”That will work in your favor.”

His angry stare failed to move her. He waved his hand, slamming her cabinet doors in a telekinetic fit. “Why aren’t you scared?”

“Don’t make me relight this sage.” She said. “Don’t you think I’ve seen this for years? You’re not the first one to come to me. Ask yourself Joseph, why were you drawn to me?”

“I…I don’t know I just found myself here.” His eyes downcast he stopped the door slamming.

“You found yourself here because today is November 1^st,  The Day of the Dead and even though you can’t see them, there are five others in this apartment waiting patiently for me to attend to them.”

“There are?” He looked around not seeing any other specters. “You’re lying I don’t see anyone else.”

“You don’t because of your guilt and how you died. Joseph, the loneliness that you feel is part of your punishment to get you to repent. You have to accept your guilt, show remorse and move on.”

“Move on to hell you mean? No!”

Susan removed herself from the table walking towards her bedroom with Joseph following close behind.

“Yeah this is more like it! Time to get busy.” He tried to grab her but felt a shock that sent pain through his energy making him kneel to the floor.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you the sage acts as positive energy to your negative energy, it also puts a shield around me. You can’t touch me till it wears off and by then you’ll be long gone.” She smiled and grabbed a large antique book from her nightstand.

“It’s a little late to save me.” He said meekly.

“It’s not for you it’s for your victims. I have to forgive you in their stead then you can move on to the next plane. Joseph don’t you wonder why you didn’t immediately go to hell? Why you are still here?” She returned to the kitchen table opening the large book.

“I guess I didn’t think about it.” He peered over her shoulder. “I thought this was a bible?” 

“It’s a different type of book that’s been in my family for centuries. I have our family bible too don’t worry. ”

“What language is that?”

Susan swatted him away. “Romanian, now sit down.”

He did as he was told. She ran her fingers down the old text page after page until she found the words she was looking for. Reading aloud she recited the foreign words, once she finished they sat in silence for a second.

“What did you say?” He asked.

Susan sighed taking on a pensive look. “I asked the elders to search your victim’s heart to see if they are open to forgiving you.”

“Well? What happens now?”

“We wait, if the answer is yes then you are forgiven, in the meantime I want to read to you from the book of Matthew  passage 6: 14-15 and 1 John 1:9,  the last one I’ll read is Acts 3:19 about repenting which even though your actions say different I can tell you want to. Open your heart to it Joseph and accept the words.”

As she read the passages his ethereal form started to disappear. “What’s happening to me?” His frightened face started to fade.

“It’s okay Joseph, just accept the embrace.”

“Am I going to hell?” He asked in a child like voice.

Smiling sweetly she answered. “No, you’re going to the next plane where you have to finish the lessons you needed to learn here before you cut your life short and accept what you have done. It’s a good place don’t worry, once you finish your lessons you’ll move on to what we call heaven and be ready to accept God’s love and forgiveness.”

“I’m scared.” He whispered as his form was now almost a wisp of smoke.

“I know Joseph, Look in front of you do you see a man?”

“Yes.”

“He is an elder and will lead you on your path, trust him he is there to assist you till your ready for heaven. Goodbye Joseph.”

“Thank you.” She faintly heard from afar.

Loud banging rattled her doors jolting her from her chair.

“I know you’re in there you hippie freak, open up!”

Rolling her eyes Susan adjusted her tie dyed bohemian skirt and for fun wrapped a matching scarf around her head in a turban. “Yes Mr. Armstrong” She addressed her heavyset, balding neighbor. “Come for a reading? Let me get my crystal ball.”

“Listen I don’t care if you are the Ghost Doctor….”

“Ghost Therapist.” She corrected.

“I don’t care if you’re the fucking ghost proctologist! I’m warning you for the last time to stop burning that damned weed, it’s stinking up the building!” He yelled, veins road mapping on his forehead.

Susan looked beyond him and nodded. “Your grandmother wants me to tell you to lay off the potato chips and soda. You’re heading for a heart attack.”

He huffed as he walked away. “Tell the old bat to mind her own fucking business.”

Susan rolled her eyes at him and shut her door. Turning to the ethereal crowd in her living room she sighed. “Next.”

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Starting From Scratch

For nearly a year and a half we have been living in the skin of our characters, Danielle Labouleaux and Aiden Stone, stars of The Body Hunters series. We know these characters and their supporting cast so well, we know how they would react in certain situations and can even complete their sentences. Right now the third book in the series is with our editor Reggie and we're in the midst of writing the fourth book. After we release the fourth book, tentatively titled The Lazarus Effect, we're taking a break from Danny and Aiden and starting another series. That's where the problem lies.

One thing we've taken note of from our readers is that even though they love the mystery and paranormal aspects of our series, they love the drama between our characters even more. Therefore, we decided to delve into something that was strictly drama in a real world setting. We can promise that there will be plenty of twists and character conflict. The dilemma lies in creating characters who are not just Xerox copies of the cast from our first series. We're not going to cut any corners and we're not taking the easy way out.

Our new protagonist is a biracial young woman and that's where her similarity to Danny Labouleaux ends. We're purposely making her an edgier character who would do things to accomplish her goals that Danny would shudder to even consider. It takes a little work to take your brain out of one character and transplant it into another, especially when you've been in their mindset for so long. We've had a long time to develop Danny and figure out what makes her tick, now it's time to devote that same love and attention to another protagonist. While Danny and company feel like home, these new characters and scenarios have us in uncharted territory where we are free to start over from scratch.  It may be a daunting task, but it helps us grow as writers.

Now we're not leaving The Body Hunters permanently, there's still a lot more stories to tell, as well as a prequel, and the movie script that's currently in the works. One day I'd love to see Danny and Aiden on the big screen. We're just taking a little time outside our comfort zone to develop something else and challenge ourselves. If it's not a challenge is it even worth doing?

Leave Me Out of That Drama!

"Yeah, I don't know why she stopped talking to me all of a sudden. Now every time I walk past she rolls her eyes and turns her back."
"Oh, I don't know anything about that. She didn't say anything to me."

I nod my head understandingly, lying through my teeth the entire time. You see I know exactly why Ms. G has a beef with Ms. V, but I'm not opening my big mouth.

I learned early on in my career to stay out of drama. My very first job was a store where 98% of the employees were women. I don't know what it is about women, but if you get too many in the same place at the same time there's bound to be some issues. Somebody doesn't like somebody else and this woman is talking behind the back of this woman. It doesn't make sense because you can get two guys who have a knock out, drag out, punching match and by the end of the night they're having beers and watching the football game. What is it about women that we can't get along?

There's a feud going on with the women in my department. You see, last week, Ms. G overheard Ms. J talking about her with Ms. K. Feeling outraged, Ms. G told off Ms. J, who proceeded to call Ms. K on her off day and tell her what happened. Now both Ms. K and Ms. J are totally ignoring Ms. G who could care less. Now Ms. G went to our supervisor with an account that Ms. V was supposed to be working on, but she messed it up. Now our supervisor has warned Ms. V that Ms. G is sharpening her axe behind her back.

I don't know if everybody is PMS-ing at the same time or what. All I know is that we had a weekly lottery pool going then all of a sudden I get a text from Ms. G that she wasn't participating anymore. I asked some stupid questions about what was going on and found myself in the center of a possible cat fight.

Now I'm in the awkward position of being approached by the women who are feuding who want to rest their troubles on my shoulders. I'm the type to get along with everybody, so I'm still talking and interacting with these women, despite the visible friction. I make a point of not saying anything negative about the other parties involved, instead I offer neutral words of support, mindful of not committing to any side in this arms race. Like my mother says; A dog that brings a bone will carry a bone. In other words if they bring you info on someone, they'll take what you say to the other party. I don't want anyone saying that I said anything about any body so I took myself out of the equation.

As women, we have a lot of issues to deal with, which makes it even sadder that we can't stick together. Hopefully the cooler fall temperatures will chill the tempers in my department and things will go back to normal. Whatever these women decide to do about their situation, I know one thing is true; I'm staying my behind out of all that drama.

Extremes of Fitting In

This week on The Talk, co-host Julia Chen confessed that she gave in to pressure from her boss and a potential agent to have surgery that would make her eyes less Chinese and more Caucasian. They felt that the eyes she was born with were not expressive enough for an anchor's position. The plastic surgery seemed to work for her because she excelled in her career and her co-hosts applauded her for doing the right thing. So when is it okay to change who you are to please other people?

If my boss tells me I look too black, my nose is too big, or my hair is too nappy to make it in the workplace, where do I draw the line? Do I succumb to racist peer pressure for the sake of a job? We're talking more than not dressing business professional, we're talking about the features a person was born with. My dad's eyes, my mom's smile, the light spots on my legs I got from my grandmother, the moles that were passed down from my maternal great grandmother's native American side, all these things make me who I am. It makes me unique. Is changing my outside appearance even worth it.

What about kids who are bullied? I've seen stories where parents who have a kid who's being teased takes their child for cosmetic surgery to correct the 'problem'. What lesson is that teaching? Yes, they're right, there is something wrong with you, let's fix it. What does that do to a person's self esteem? Why not give kids the ammunition to get past bullying?

Is it okay now to let other people's opinions affect what we see when we look in the mirror? Do I really want to disfigure myself because my looks offend some jerk who really needs a trip to Human Resources? What about the thirteen year old girl who gets a boob job so the kids can stop teasing her about her flat chest?

Is a job or fitting in even worth that much trouble? If I have to make all these changes to fit in, maybe it's not a place where I really want to be.

Life is tough, we all know that. There will be bumps, bruises, and roadblocks along the way.  How nice is it to face all those challenges and still be intact when we reach the finish line?  True, Ms. Chen got her dream job, but is the victory still sweet when she looks into the mirror and sees a totally different person staring back at her? How does it feel to reach your goal, knowing you took the easy route?

Are Manners and Chivalry Dead?

When I was coming up, my mother instilled in me and my siblings, proper etiquette and manners. Please, Thank You, No Thank You, Excuse Me, Pardon Me and all those other niceties are ingrained in my brain. There are some subjects that shouldn't be talked about in public. I'm by no means bragging but i also have the good manners not to belch, foul language isn't in my vocabulary (even though the characters I write use expletives at times), clean up after myself, and over talk another person. If you see someone carrying something, man, woman, whatever, hold the door open for them. Taking the lessons she taught me, sometimes I'm aghast when I run into people who don't follow the same code of respecting and being courteous to others.

This blog came about because I was at the movies earlier today to see The Butler with my mother and sisters. The lights are dim and the theater is playing commercials until the trailers start. Mom is in the aisle seat and I'm about six seats from her with my sisters in between. A woman comes up the stairs carrying popcorn, nachos, and a large drink and trips up the stairs. She falls and drops her food and drink. Are you okays are going all around and a guy comes down from above us and helps her. The bystanders recommend she replace her food, which she does. The man who I assumed was also a bystander is really her 'man' if that's what you want to call him, takes the drink and heads back to his seat. STOP the record.

Okay, it's bad enough that this poor woman was carrying all this stuff by herself, while the man who's probably snoring in her face every night is sitting on his butt, waiting on her to bring it. But the lady fell, probably hurt her knee and is embarassed and this Neanderthal sends her to get more food while he's relaxing in his reclining stadium style chair. Okay, he may not be the most chivalrous guy, I'll give him that. Go ahead and take chivalry out of the equation. Common decency would be for him to say: Hey honey, have a seat don't worry about it. I'll go replace the food. Needless to say, I was hoping she would take that as a lesson, get in her car and leave his trifling behind at the movies snackless. Unfortunately she did come back with new snacks. All I have to say is God bless her. Hopefully she wakes up one day.

That incident got me thinking about the lack of manners I see in people today, from the young to the old. I've been in stores sometimes and have some old lady just breeze right by me without so much as a pardon me. Or last week at the office I swipe my badge and open the door for some guy to basically try to bum rush me to get through. Hello! I opened the door for me, not you! There's the girl at the office who drinks pop all day and proceeds to belch out loud when the need arises. Okay enough of that! How about my coworker who sits at my desk when I'm off and leaves questionable hair on my desk and coffee rings? Nasty. Or I'm taking my break and overhear an overly loud cell phone conversation involving a boyfriend visiting a strip club, punching his girlfriend in the eye and her shooting him in the chest. Okay TMI. I do not need to know this.

Having grown up with my mother's lessons and going out seeing all this around me causes something of a sensory overload. Bad manners and poor etiquette are everywhere, making me grateful that I do know better. It doesn't matter if etiquette and manners are a thing of the past in today's world, I'm still going to hold myself at a high standard. Maybe me holding the door open for an old lady or saying thank you when the waitress brings my dinner will pass on the lesson.