Tag Archive for: Twisted

A Re-Awakening

by Marjorie Brody

The New Year arrived for me in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. A live band, champagne and chocolate covered strawberries accompanied a balloon drop at midnight. The cruise allowed me to escape telephone calls and the demands of emails, meetings, and deadlines. I took a speed boat ride

through the rain forest, climbed Mayan ruins, and swam in gorgeous blue, calm water. I relaxed and gained a fresh perspective on my goals for the coming year. As a guest on a cruise ship, I was treated like royalty.

The vacation reminded me of how fortunate I am—purely by accident of my birth—to belong to the privileged of this world. Even though I have at times experienced religious prejudice, my life is blessed. I live in a country where, even as a female, I can receive an education, earn a living, marry the person of my choice, and raise the number of children I choose. My cruise experience, and the countries I visited, reinforced my awareness of the difference between the haves and the have nots. Years ago I wrote a poem about the divide between the privileged and underprivileged classes in our country. I pulled it out to reread and I’m sharing it with you below.

The New Year and its tradition of making resolutions coincided for me on this cruise and I decided that this year, my commitment wouldn’t be to write more regularly or submit more often. My resolution wouldn’t be to lose weight or exercise three times a week. My resolution would push me to think outside of my own little world and do something to make the world a better place for those less fortunate than I.

May the New Year be good to you.

SIDE-BY-SIDE IN AMERICA: THE PLAYGROUND

Twisted gray weeds wrap around
rusted spikes
                                                      Manicured grass, plush, green
                                                      and well styled
where once the swings stood
                                                       under brilliant colored poles
Rats and roaches scuffle
among bottles, cans, and paper
finding their way to
                                                      Children laughing,
                                                      singing rhymes and shouting,
                                                      playing tag and statues
Termites on an endless feast
gorging themselves on
                                                      “See-saw Margery Daw”
Mosquitoes and flies hovering
around excrement and vomit
                                                      Uniformed nannies strolling flowered paths
                                                      pushing their carriages,
                                                      and gossiping sweetly
                                                      And the friendly policeman
                                                      tips his cap as they pass
a drunk beaten and robbed
lying under the bushes
blood inching down his mouth
and ear—his temple pulsing
                                                       the heavy thunder of roller skates
                                                       on cement
its redness turned brown by
an equal part dirt
                                                       “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
                                                       Humpty Dumpty had a great . . .”
“Help me,” faintly come
                                                        babies cooing as they have their
                                                        tummies satisfied with
                                                        bottles full of warm white
clouds turning black
as the chill of night sets in
                                                        And as the sun seeks the horizon
                                                        the nannies call the children
                                                        home
                                                        to an unappreciated dinner
                                                        and lush, warm beds
                                                        And the children laugh, and
                                                        run
                                                        “ . . . all the way, all the way home”
with the faint voice calling
                                                        “three, six, nine, I resign.”

Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short stories appear in literary magazines and the Short Stories by Texas Authors Anthology and four volumes of the Short Story America Anthology. Her debut psychological suspense novel, TWISTED, was awarded an Honorable Mention at the Great Midwest Book Festival and won the Texas Association of Authors Best Young Adult Fiction Book Award. TWISTED is available in digital and print at http://tinyurl.com/cv15why or http://tinyurl.com/bqcgywl. Marjorie invites you to visit her at www.marjoriespages.com. 

Ho, ho, ho. I’ve Stolen Your Identity

by Marjorie Brody

It can be a statement of admiration when someone emulates you. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so they say. It’s a very different situation when someone steals your identity, empties your bank account, maxes your credit cards, and pretends to be you while buying appliances at
various stores with your stolen checks.

It took me three years to resolve that chaos. One of the lingering problems is that our State refuses to issue a new driver’s license number even if someone steals–and continues to use–your old license.

I thought I had gotten over that theft. Thought I’d never have to go through something like that again. Then, last week, someone stole checks I sent in the mail to pay bills, altered them, and tried to cash them. Result? Once again, I had to change my banking account.

It’s taken me days and days of full-time work notifying direct depositors and direct payees of my new account number, making police reports, working with the fraud department of the bank to monitor activity on outstanding checks and checks that weren’t received by addressees. Paper work is piling up. My time is being gobbled away. It’s hard not to feel resentful.

But resentment gets me nowhere.

I take a break from my lengthy list of required calls and sit in the “blue room” in our home. Water flows down the rock fountain outside and splashes into our patio fish pond. The sound of cascading water seeps through the windows and soothes me. Guitars and books surround me. Across the room, I see a wooden wall plaque given to me by a colleague that says, “Your story matters.”

I think about the people who act without concern for the impact of their behavior on others, and wonder what their story is. Surely they have one. Every writer knows that even the villain sees him/herself as the hero of his/her own story. It’s not that I’m turning the other cheek—I will certainly press charges if the perpetrators are caught—but I refuse to let the perps steal who I am. They may steal my financial identity, make my fiscal life hell, but steal my heart and soul? No way!

So, whatever is going on for you this holiday season, I hope you’re holding on to who you are. Your story—and you as an individual—matters. I wish you the very best and I’ll speak with you next year.
Happy Holidays!

P.S. Crime Stoppers did catch that first thief—who looked nothing like me and even though I have “Check photo ID” written on my credit cards, store clerks never looked.

Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short stories appear in literary magazines and the Short Stories by Texas Authors Anthology and four volumes of the Short Story America Anthology. Her debut psychological suspense novel, TWISTED, was awarded an Honorable Mention at the Great Midwest Book Festival, won the Texas Association of Authors Best Young Adult Fiction Book Award and was selected for the Middlesex County College Library list of 2015 Best Reads. TWISTED is available at http://tinyurl.com/cv15why or http://tinyurl.com/bqcgywl. Marjorie invites you to visit her at: www.marjoriespages.com. 

Hiss. Hiss. Hiss!

by Marjorie Brody

It started about two weeks ago. A sound. At night, when the house was quiet. A hiss. Just a single hiss. Enough to make me look up from the book I was reading, yet not loud enough for me to be sure I even heard anything. But the next night, I heard it again.

The hiss was definitely not my imagination.

I got up from my chair and checked the area in the room where I’d heard the sound. I found . . . nothing.

The hiss repeated the next night, slightly louder.  Now I was thinking a wounded cat hovered on the other side of the wall. I looked out the window, but of course, the darkness of night prevented me from seeing more than my reflection.

I gathered my flashlight and crept out the door. The sweeping yellow beam highlighted my plants, the waterfall
and fish pond, the barbeque grill, and the lawn that desparately needed cutting. But no cat in distress.

The hissing went on for several nights. Each time louder and seemingly more angry. By the beginning of the week, the angry hissing occurred during daylight as well as nighttime, at unpredictable times, and was no longer a single hiss, but a pairing—as if two cats, with arched backs, hackles raised and teeth barred, were in a stare-down with each other.

I concluded there must be an animal in the wall, although I didn’t know how anything could live in such a narrow space. Our two Yorkiepoos and one Silkie Terrier were now cocking their heads and listening to the hisses. Other people in the house now heard the sounds—but we could never predict when they would occur.

Friends told me that possums made hissing sounds and so did raccoons. I feared a rabid animal would hurt our beloved puppies.

I called animal control. They said call an exterminator. I found one that would catch-and-release–if the animals were not rabid. The inspector went into our attic, found no animal droppings, but did see a worn area in the insulation near the soffits. He also reported animal tracks (“I’m no tracker. I couldn’t say what kind of animal.”) in the dried dirt around the back of the house. The offered solution: plug up all the unwanted entry points to the house. Anything larger than a quarter. Then set traps in the attic. With the animals unable to leave the house to get food, they’d get hungry and go for the bait. Cost: Originally quoted at $1200. But because we had so few spots to plug, the price was reduced to $979.12.

I hesitated. That was still a lot of money. I needed to sleep on the decision.

Hissing pierced the night, more frequently, more strong, and more angry than ever. What if the animal, or animals, ate the insides of the walls? Or chewed the electrical wires? (We had an escaped hamster do that once when the children were young.) What if the critters had babies in the attic or inside the walls?

The inspector returned the next day. The hissing, now gnarling–something obviously was not happy living here–sounded as he walked up to the front door, but as if knowing his purpose, remained silent while he was inside our home. I gave permission for his company to rid the house of our unhappy inhabitant.

No sooner had the inspector stepped off the porch, contract in hand, did the angry, hungry, pregnant opossum my writer’s mind envisioned make another clawing, fighting hiss. Only this time, our home health aide heard it and knew how to exorcise the hissing. Without setting a single catch-and-release trap.

I’m tempted to leave you with the question: How do you think the aide got rid of the critter and its hiss? Then I could wait until next month to give you the answer, and by then, maybe you’d have forgotten I brought up this whole topic.

But I won’t. I’ll expose my sense of feeling oh so stupid. I’ll reveal my total sense of humiliation.

The hissing came from an automatic room deodorizer. The lower the contents inside the decorative container, the louder and more often and more distorted the puff being pushed from the decanter became. I could even make the sound at will, once I knew I could override the automatic timer and press a manual button.

This tale has no moral. No lesson to learn. It may demonstrate how a writer’s mind playing the “what if” game in real life can lead to a story to share with friends and colleagues. Feel free to have a laugh at my expense. My family laughed for hours.

P.S. My novel TWISTED is a finalist for the Red City Review Book Awards. It’s the third honor for this psychological suspense. And, it’s on sale now on Kindle and the Nook for $1.99. http://tinyurl.com/o6smtws and http://tinyurl.com/p8f9uw2. If you haven’t read TWISTED,  please check it out.

Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short stories appear in literary magazines and the Short Stories by Texas Authors Anthology and four volumes of the Short Story America Anthology. Her debut psychological suspense novel, TWISTED, was awarded an Honorable Mention at the Great Midwest Book Festival and won the Texas Association of Authors Best Young Adult Fiction Book Award. TWISTED is available in digital and print at http://tinyurl.com/cv15why or http://tinyurl.com/bqcgywl. Marjorie invites you to visit her at: www.marjoriespages.com. 

Honing My Craft While Having One Hell of a Time

by Marjorie Brody


I don’t know about you, but I’m always on the alert for opportunities to sharpen my skills. I enjoy attending organized workshops and seminars, and although I share my new knowledge with colleagues when I return home,  it’s not the same as if we all attend a workshop together—which can be pricey when you consider transportation, hotels and meals, as well as workshop fees. So, this year I hosted three private workshops at my home. I arranged for well established authors and writing instructors to fly into town and do a two-and-a-half day seminar for twenty of my colleagues. We had a blast. We learned, ate, laughed, ate, worked hard, and ate. We talk about our learnings and remind each other to implement our new-found insights long after the seminar ends. We even created a spin-off from the seminar Eric M. Witchey conducted which allowed us to extend our workshop experience.

If you ever get a chance to attend a workshop with Eric, I encourage you to do so. Eric has sold well over 100 short stories, a slew of non-fiction articles, and four novels. He consults with authors often and is a popular workshop presenter at the Willamette Writers Conference, Wordcrafters Conference, and the Short Story America Festival and Conference. Eric has a unique way of understanding story development and boosting productivity. You might want to read his article in Writers Digest, July 2005 on EDACE.

After several days with Eric, a group of us decided we wanted to use his strategies for developing stories. So, we started a group called the Story Starters. We’d pick a genre, a writing technique (e.g., amplifying setting through pov, person vs environment, indirect dialogue) and two emotions from bowls containing dozens. Occasionally, we pick the name of an item from another bowl (e.g., a  crushed soda can, a smelly pillowcase, a squeezed lemon slice). Then in a twenty minute period, we’d write a story using Eric’s EDACE and all the elements we’ve randomly picked from the bowls. When the timer rings, we’d each read our story aloud. The only rule: It doesn’t matter if our work is less than stellar. We are practicing. Merely practicing—although what great practice it is. The more we utilize the process and implement our skills the more integrated they become.

The system the Story Starters use allows us to experiment with genres outside our comfort zones, move characters from one emotional state to another, and have one hell of a time. Amazing ourselves with our creativity—and our consumption of popcorn, sweets and coffee—we laugh and inspire and impact each other other with our stories. We’ve built a strong sense of collegiality and a built-in cheering section for our published endeavors. The Story Starters meet every other week and embark on this process twice in an evening.

At the rate of two story-starts (although many times we finish a completed story in 20 minutes), that’s 52 short story ideas a year. Some will be tossed away, some will be refined and submitted to journals, and others become the ideas for longer works.

We’re having an awesome time practicing our craft. 


What about you? What practice techniques do you use?

P.S. When I told Eric I was going to mention him in this blog, he offered to send my readers a longer .pdf version of his Writers Digest article on EDACE. (He’s written several articles for Writers Digest and The Writer magazines). He also said if you had a specific question about some aspect of your writing, he could send you an article that may be helpful. He’s willing to do this if you contact him before November 13 and mention the Stiletto Gang.  His email address is: eric@ericwitchey.com.



Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short stories appear in literary magazines and the Short Stories by Texas Authors Anthology and four volumes of the Short Story America Anthology. Her debut psychological suspense novel, TWISTED, was awarded an Honorable Mention at the Great Midwest Book Festival and won the Texas Association of Authors Best Young Adult Fiction Book Award. TWISTED is available in digital and print at http://tinyurl.com/cv15why or http://tinyurl.com/bqcgywl. Marjorie invites you to visit her at www.marjoriespages.com.
 

When Characters Withhold Information

by Marjorie Brody

I usually know my characters well before I begin to write. Certainly I know what they want, what they fear, what their major flaw is, and what changes they
will make in the life of the story, i.e., their character arc. But recently, I met a very stubborn protagonist. I should probably capitalize that word
Stubborn. I could probably capitalize every letter of that word. STUBBORN.

I’d been working with this character for some time now and yet, it seemed she was avoiding me. I knew the secret that kicked off her adventure and kept her
driven, but it seemed as if something was missing. That there was something deeper going on—the secret beneath the secret—and for the life of me, I
couldn’t figure it out. And I needed to figure it out in order to create the emotional impact I desired with the story.

I decided to interview her.

Interviewing characters is not an uncommon practice for authors. The author asks the character questions about his or her personality, and/or desires,
and/or anything story related—or not story related. The process allows the author’s subconscious to surface and reveal important information not previously
known. It’s not a technique I’ve had to use often, but I was tired of this particular character giving me the slip. She knew something I didn’t and, by
heaven, I was going to force it out of her. After all, didn’t I have a right to know her deepest, darkest, most self-protected secret if I was going to
write her story? Didn’t she owe me an explanation? I was her creator, for crying out loud.

So, I asked her what she really wanted, really, really wanted and pushed her to go beneath the surface. I confronted her about why she was not allowing me
to understand her at the level I needed in order to complete the story. What happened surprised me.

She accused me of probing where I had no business probing and challenged me with, “You ever think maybe I don’t want my story made public?” Which
naturally had me ask why she didn’t want people to know her story, what was she afraid of? To which she went on the attack stating she wanted to forget her
past and I had no right to force her to remember.

Standoff time.

I’d invested so much time on this character. How dare she. I mean, the story was powerful as it was, but I wanted to move it to another, more profound,
level. And this character was holding out on me, I just knew it.

I threatened to get a new protagonist if she didn’t cooperate.

She attacked my goal for writing this story. Then attacked my most vulnerable writing insecurity.

I accused her of being mean and hitting below the belt.

She accused me of not facing the fact that maybe she was mean. Deep-down. A lot meaner than I’d ever imagined. “You willing to write about me now?”

To prove her point, she tossed out a grenade that blew me off my feet: somebody else killed the antagonist.

For those of you who are writers, you understand the implication of this revelation. The protagonist, and only the protagonist, is allowed to defeat the
antagonist.

My character was forcing me to rewrite the entire story.

I told my character that I’d get back to her in the morning, but I let a week of passive-aggressive avoidance go by. I simmered with her revelation. And
then I understood. My character did give me what I asked of her. The secret under her secret was that she believed someone else killed the
protagonist. So whoa, baby. Do I have a surprise for her. Let her think what she wants. I’ll show her who’s the story master.

So, lessons learned. My characters can help me write their stories. And, I can be as STUBBORN as they.

What happens when characters hold out on you? In what ways do you allow your characters to tap into your subconscious?

Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short stories appear in literary magazines and the Short Story America Anthology, Vols. I, II and III. Her debut psychological suspense novel, TWISTED, was awarded an Honorable Mention at the 2013 Great Midwest Book Festival and won the Texas Association of Authors 2014 Best Young Adult Fiction Book Award. TWISTED is available in digital and print at http://tinyurl.com/cvl5why or http://tinyurl.com/bqcgywlMarjorie invites you to visit her at www.marjoriespages.com.

7 Things You May Not Know About My Writing

by Marjorie Brody

My dear friend and colleague, Kay Kendall, author of Desolation Row and Rainy Day Women, challenged me to post 7 things
people may not know about my writing. I accepted her challenge and told her I’d share my behind-the-writing information here and now.


1. My first novel (the one prior to TWISTED) was written from 10:30 PM to 2-4:00 AM. I was working full-time as a psychotherapist and often attended the San Antonio Spurs basketball games at night so couldn’t write until I got home.


2. I enjoy listening to music while I write. Soft jazz or Spanish ballads are my go-to music, quiet enough to keep in the background. Sometimes I don’t
even hear the music, but when I start a writing session, music keeps me focused.


3. When I don’t write for any period of time I get grumpy—okay, that’s more about me than my writing, but it’s the truth. I imagine it’s like a runner
who must run regularly. Writing is something I have to do for my mental health—and the mental health and happiness of my family and friends.

4. I tend to drink a lot of decaf coffee with hazelnut cream while I write. (In the Spurs mug my critique partner, Rita Derbas, gave me.)


5. My short story “In the Underside” (later produced as a play) was the only piece of writing that just flowed from my fingertips and came out in one
complete, finished, piece. I remember staying up the entire night writing that story, sometimes my eyes blurring with tears. I had two thoughts in mind
while I wrote “In the Underside”: the 28-year-old mother who died after drinking an abundance of water during a radio contest. Remember that situation?
She wanted to win a Wii for her three children. The second thought: there is a lot that goes on inside people that doctors—and mental health
specialists—can’t possibly know. I hadn’t intended “In the Underside”

to be written with limited sensory awareness, (the protagonist can only hear and smell) but I’m glad the story wrote itself that way. I learned a lot.


6. I struggle to write non-fiction. Blogs are difficult for me. I blame it on having to write a dissertation. That might not be the core the reason,
but I’m too busy to try to figure it out. I’ll just need to write through my discomfort.

7. I tend to write with a lot of dialogue. Sigrid Nunez, award-winning author and Literary Fellow to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences,

encouraged a group of us at the Vermont Studio Center “not to be afraid to use narrative” in our fiction. So I experimented with a short story, “It Was
Said,” written predominantly in narration. To my surprise, that story received a nomination for the Pushcart Prize. The positive reception to that
story doubly surprised me because I work hard to avoid “to be” verbs in my fiction. Yet here was a story where the passive voice almost becomes its own
character in the tale.

So there you have it, seven bits of information you may not have known about me and/or my writing. Thank you, Kay, for prompting me to share aspects of
my writing life. You know, perhaps another reason blogs are difficult for me (#6 above) is they go counter to my training against self-disclosure.
Whoops, didn’t I say I would stop trying to figure that out? I guess just because I’ve become a professional writer doesn’t mean I can stop being a
psychotherapist. But I must admit, it’s kind of nice to let others know a little more about me.

What 7 things would you include on your list?

Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short stories appear in literary magazines and the Short Story America AnthologyVols. I, II and III. Her debut psychological suspense novel, TWISTED, was awarded an Honorable Mention at the 2013 Great Midwest Book Festival and won the Texas Association of Authors 2014 Best Young Adult Fiction Book Award. TWISTED is available in digital and print at http://tinyurl.com/cvl5why or http://tinyurl.com/bqcgywl. Marjorie invites you to visit her at www.marjoriespages.com.

Fragile Art

by Marjorie Brody

Have you ever visited a Chihuly gallery? In addition to glass bowls, vases, and baskets, Dale Chihuly and his team of artisans create magnificent glass
sculptures, or as they say in the art world, glass installations. Each piece demands time and patience, creativity and skill. The pieces pick up light and
reflect color. They are dazzling and are unique and yet . . . And yet, created from blown glass, they will always remain fragile.

Can you imagine spending hour after hour, day after day, creating something that may easily be broken?

One part of me says, “What’s the sense of working that hard only to have someone carelessly—or even accidentally—shatter your masterpiece? All your effort,
all your investment, destroyed.”

The other part of me says, “Creating is its own reward. Celebrate the process, don’t just admire the end result.”

The glass blower and the author have striking similarities. Both blow life into their work to give it shape. Both rely on turning up the heat and pushing
their subjects to the breaking point. At their best, both create a sense of delight and wonder in others.

This week, as I move forward with my work in progress, I’ll remind myself to enjoy the process. I’ll remind myself that, like blowing glass, writing a
novel demands time and patience, creativity and skill. I’ll remind myself, with a huge sigh of relief, that a well-told story is sturdier than blown glass.


Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short stories appear in literary magazines and the Short Story America
Anthology, Vols. I, II and III. Her debut psychological suspense novel, TWISTED, was awarded an Honorable Mention at the 2013 Great Midwest Book
Festival and won the Texas Association of Authors 2014 Best Young Adult Fiction Book Award. TWISTED is available in digital and print at

http://tinyurl.com/cvl5why
or http://tinyurl.com/bqcgywl. Marjorie invites you to visit her at www.marjoriespages.com.

Behind the Stone Face

by Marjorie Brody






Dull brown rocks over dusty, dry sand. That’s what you see from the outside.





But if you take the time to get to know her, to see what she’s like on the inside, behind the rough, hard, monochromatic facade and really explore who she is, you’ll be able to see her beauty. 





Tsé bighánílíní, the Navajo name for this part of Antelope Canyon, Arizona, means “the place where water runs through rock”. 




It’s pure. Unadulterated. Unique. Breathtaking. A gift from Mother Nature to teach us about looking beneath the surface. 

How often do we make judgments about individuals based on exterior appearances—it’s just a rock, a hill of dirt? How often do we make judgments based on classifications and stereotypic labels–they’re a Muslim, a Jew, an African American, a democrat, an environmentalist, a homosexual. The list can go on . . . and on . . . and on. 

In fiction, authors may hide what’s beneath a character’s facade for a little while, but eventually, they will point their flashlight into the cracks between the boulders and direct readers toward concealed mysteries. We readers leap into that abyss eager to discover the subtle lights and darknesses of the character’s inner life. We value delving beneath surface actions. We yearn to uncover, to understand, the complex motivations that form the bedrock of the character’s personality. When we meet a persona on the page, a view of his or her external life, by itself, is not sufficient. We demand to experience, with all our well-tuned senses, the character’s heart and soul.

Why can’t we do the same when we meet someone off the page?

Let’s not miss the opportunity to look beneath the surface of our fellow human beings. Sure, we may not always like what we see, but often we’ll find something we can value and/or admire. And just perhaps, looking beneath the surface will enrich our own lives.


Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short stories appear in literary magazines and the Short Story America Anthology, Vols. I, II and III. Her debut psychological suspense novel, TWISTED, was awarded an Honorable Mention at the 2013 Great Midwest Book Festival and won the Texas Association of Authors 2014 Best Young Adult Fiction Book Award. TWISTED is available in digital and print at http://tinyurl.com/cvl5why or http://tinyurl.com/bqcgywlMarjorie invites you to visit her at www.marjoriespages.com. 

Stepping into the Big Leagues

by Marjorie Brody

When I imagined becoming an author, I visualized book signings, travel, interviews and photo shoots, writing on deadlines, searching for fresh ideas,
juggling personal and professional tasks, influencing book cover concepts and designing stickers for book plates, giving presentations, answering
readers’ emails, teaching craft and encouraging new writers, and even creating a new genre, but I don’t think I ever thought I’d be on a panel with
heavy hitters. Oh sure, I envisioned having friends who are best selling authors—and in fact, I do—but to be sitting next to a Hollywood screenwriter
and TV staff writer, attorneys with legal thriller series, and a host of a crime and science radio show, well, I guess my imagination didn’t stretch
that far.

In July, I’ll be on a panel at the International Thriller Writers conference. The topic is “Ego or Id, Unlock Your Character’s Psychology” and the
Panel Master will be Dennis Palumbo. On the panel will be D.P. Lyle, MD, Katia Lief, Laura Caldwell, Lynne Raimondo, and oh yes, a little known author
whose psychological suspense debuted last year, me.
So how will I not be in tongue-tied awe?

I could remind myself that all of these authors started with a single book. I could remember that they write
about what they know (forensics, or criminals and the legal system, or psychopathology and serial killers—well, they don’t need to know about that
personally, I assure you, although on second thought, maybe they do!), and I write about what I know (resilient yet flawed protagonists, and self-deluded, maladjusted antagonists). Or maybe I
could just see these panelist as colleagues who happen to share with me the same field in our second careers.

Or maybe I could remember why I was
asked to join this panel in the first place; someone thought I’d be a valuable addition to the group. So, I guess it’s time for me to knock the dirt
out of my cleats, pick up the bat, and step up to the plate. Who knows? I may just hit a home run. And even if I don’t, it’ll still be fun to play on the team.

Have suggestions for me based on your experience? I’d love to hear them.

Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short stories appear in

literary magazines and the Short Story America Anthology, Vols. I, II and III. Her debut psychological suspense novel, TWISTED, delves into the secrets
that emerge following a sexual assault at a high school dance and features a remarkable teen who risks everything to expose the truth. TWISTED was awarded
an Honorable Mention at the 2013 Great Midwest Book Festival and won the Texas Association of Authors 2014 Best Young Adult Fiction Book Award. TWISTED is
available in digital and print at

http://tinyurl.com/cvl5why or http://tinyurl.com/bqcgywl.
Marjorie invites you to visit her at
www.marjoriespages.com.

Face it. Burying our heads won’t help.


by Marjorie Brody




Every two minutes. 
That statistic boggles my mind. Every two minutes. Throw in two other statistics: 1 in 4 and 1 in 6 and I’m ready to join Mariska Hagitay, on Law and Order: SVU.
Do you recognize that data? 
Here it is: In these United States of America someone is sexually assaulted every two minutes. I know this may not be a comfortable topic to read about, but before you close this screen or move on to something less intense, let me soften your expectations. I’m not going to be melodramatic or maudlin about this topic. April just happens to be Sexual Assault Awareness and Prevention Month, and since the inciting incident in my psychological suspense involves a sexual assault—
“Whoa, just a minute, Brody.” A teenage boy from my novel throws back his shoulders and lifts his chin. As if that challenge intimidates me. “You weren’t even there. How do you know what really happened behind that gym? Don’t go putting what went on into your little statistics.”
“Little statistics?” I’m incensed. “What’s so little about the fact that at some point in their lifetime one in four females and one in six males will be the victim of rape or an attempted sexual assault?“
“Look. This wasn’t Steubenville. No one posted our actions on FaceBook, or Twittter.”
“You didn’t have the right to invade Sarah’s body without permission.”
The wily smile that purses his lips replaces my blood with ice water. “Permission is a matter of perspective,” he says. “If you read the articles put out by the students at Palo Alto High School in California, you’d know that girls dress slutty and drink too much and, well, expect guys to be guys.”
“Obviously you didn’t read all the articles. The students condemned that behavior.”
“Not everyone.”
I puff up with my own indignation. Damn. I hate that his statement is true. Not all young men are being taught to respect females, to accept ‘no’ as ‘no’, to realize that a minor or an inebriated female cannot legally give consent to have sex.  
“Hey look, everyone takes advantage. Don’t watch Downton Abbey?” He crosses his arms over his chest and I want to tear that smirk from his face—and I can’t believe he’s making  me so angry. 


I struggle not to get sucked into his evil thinking. No one has the right to sexually assault another. No one! I turn my back to him, remember I just wanted to make all of you aware that this month has a special purpose. He isn’t worth getting riled up about. 
“By the way,” he says, his voice now thick with seduction, “I heard TWISTED won the Texas Association of Authors 2014 Best Young Adult Book Award. How come you didn’t celebrate with me? A little thanks would go a long way, if you know what I mean. If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t even have a book. Think you might want to show me some appreciation. In fact, you ought to get down on your hands and knees and—” 
I utilize my power and squash what he says with one press of the delete key. 
Sarah, my protagonist pops up and says, “Remind them.”
I take a breath and refocus. April is Sexual Assault Awareness and Prevention Month. In his speech last year President Obama said, “. . . too many women, men, and children suffer alone or in silence, burdened by shame or unsure anyone will listen. This month, we recommit to changing that tragic reality by stopping sexual assault before it starts and ensuring victims get the support they need.”

It’s a start. 

Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short stories appear in literary magazines and the Short Story America Anthology, Vols. I, II and III. Her debut psychological suspense novel, TWISTED, delves into the secrets that emerge following a sexual assault at a high school dance and features a remarkable teen who risks everything to expose the truth. TWISTED is available in digital and print. Marjorie invites you to visit her at www.marjoriespages.com.