Recently, I took my 12-years-old Honda Accord to the dealer to have a dead headlight and a failed brake light replaced. The technician said it would take about an hour, so I just turned over the key, and retired to the customer waiting area, which had comfy sofas and chairs and a big screen TV. I took with me some writing materials because I wanted to work on a few details for my fourth Thomas O'Shea novel, Of Mists and Murders, details I hadn't ironed out yet, in my iron head.
An older woman soon joined me, asked if I would care if she turned on the TV. I was fine with that. The lady, who looked like an octogenarian Hobbit, settled into a sofa and began watching "The People's Court," a show I had never seen before. It was distracting, but I worked hard to ignore the peculiar people on the tube. What was even more distracting was that the local advertisers for the show looked like twenty-something blondes with Barbie figures enhanced by implants. And they were advertising for personal injury local lawyers. Every single ad had the same kind of woman, whose feet never get wet in the shower, promoting one lawyer or another who really, truly, cared about me.
The aging Hobbit had zoned out, staring at the screen, mouth slightly open, nearly catatonic, taking it all in. I fought off my tendency to be judgemental, ignoring the court cases, sneaking a peak at the commercials. If I ever need a personal injury lawyer....
GOOD NEWS ALERT! I now have my very own website! From now on, you can catch my blogs and lots of other information about my work, and me a little, at www.johncarenenwrites.com.
For that, I am entirely grateful to my Book Concierge, Rowe Carenen, and David Garrison, genius website guru. Come see!
