Life at its current place leaves little time for blogging. Still I feel remiss when I neglect the task. These last months have been a whirlwind what with still juggling doing speech language therapy and running ALVA Press, Inc. The only thing that has saved me is the dedication of my staff and those writers ALVA serves.

Kristen Henderson's Drum Machine in soft cover should go to press next week. Carl Waldman's Streetscape, a mystery, may go to eBooking almost as soon. Lorna Tychostup's book of poetry, Tales from the Revolution, is to follow soon. In the development stage, I count two other novels actively being prepared for publication with ALVA. Each of the five in its own right wonderful.

But the big news is that Henderson's Drum Machine took a Gold Medal in Poetry in the eLit internationally representative awards run by Jenkins. Very exciting! We are all very proud of her!

And then there is the rest of my life. And the economy: Each morning I wake to an ever increasing awareness of its disparities. To salve my worry over it I tinker with the notion of another bumper sticker for my car: "Down with weapons, up with jobs."

Then I thought of this one: "Wake up both the 1% and the 99%: Require the income of every board member and employee in a company to be papered on the wall of the company's vestibule for all to read." Too long. Maybe just "Post the Incomes."Or how's this? "Ask Obama to Offer a Second WPA Executive Order." Well, maybe just: "Love Obama's WPA 2012" - - just to make it happen.

Oh, well. Just dreaming. Mustn't weaken.

I think today since I doubt I will find one that reads the way I want it to:"Ask Obama to Offer a Second WPA Executive Order," I guess I try for the minimal: "Raise the Minimum Wage."

Roberta in Po-Town,

Where do the month's fly? ALVA Press, Inc., is gradually takes over my life. It consumes my weekends, my evenings, my holidays. President's week I must have put in eighty hours. Have I lost it completely? I think not. Only beginning to understand the wonderful but somewhat brutal world of publishing.Witness the knock-down drag-out debate about Amazon.com freebies and willingness to undersell anyone, even at a loss to the company as meantime it buys up all the best selling authors.

Meantime, authors feel caught the frey. But better some stars than no stars we figure. No we will not all make it as writers--try though as we may. However, oddly on first take, Amazon.com has come round--thanks to a major confrontation with the industry. Yes, back a bit Steve Jobs, in his imitatable way, came up with the answer. Yes, Amazon would go with the agency model in which the publisher sets the price and Amazon.com gets the traditional 30%, and agrees to no longer undersell the publisher. Whew! Well, whew for the minute at least.

What then is Amazon.com's next logical move? You guessed it. It goes into the publishing bursiness. Witness now the list of free books it offers--because it can--as it launches out on a new path to gobble up smaller publishing companies through its tactic of feeding the hungry masses free eBook after free eBook and by so doing it would seem, probably immediately--although probably not eventually--diminishing the demand for eBooks at reasonable prices--except at Amazon.com. 

What then can be my small contribution on behalf of writers? Truly only miniscule: other than for review and author interview and book advertising purposes, I do not solicit free eBooks. Nonetheless, as I launch the eBooks of other writers the question of to free-eBook-it or not remains.

So by the first week of March ALVA Press will make available its  first eBook written by someone other than myself. It is Kristen Henderson's marvelous book of passionate lyric poetry, Drum Machine. Tell me, should ALVA or should ALVA not distribute Drum Machine as an eBook free?

BTW: If you have not noticed, there is a small comment button below your link and any views on how I might handle the tricky to-free-eBook-or-not question would be most appreciated!

 As to my personal life, given the press of time spent on the company I find that more and more it revolves primarily around my son, his family, and those who share an interest in what I am doing and how I am progressing. 

But spring is coming and it is my plan to make a run to Saturday's opening at the Cherry Branch Gallery in Cherry Valley, NY; to participate in the Hudson Valley Sciontist's May 27 gathering at the Vassar College Alumni House for lunch and some delightful discussion with other lovers of Sherlock Holmes and words and literature in general; and to, hopefully, make a run north to Port Henry, NY, to visit with some very missed friends. And, to my delight, there are of course: my niece's sixteenth birthday bash; my grandson's participation in the New York State Music Festival, and the engagement shower for my nephew's bride-to-be. 

And this while all around and within our lives we celebrate the passing of a winter that for us here in the Hudson Valley has been kind and offers promise of a gentle fading into the warmer weather.

Roberta in Po-Town, Feelin' light

The New Year 2012 wandered in last night welcomed by a sense of renewed hope. The weather has been incredibly pleasant for the turn of the year. Business and the economy seem better while news of new climatic and seismic disasters has been minimal. Should we go on tiptoe? I think not. Best we move while the moving is good and take advantage of the time and energy we have to renew friendships, mend walls, and generally make the most of it without going over board.

Wednesday we celebrated my cousin Betty Hampel's 84th birthday. In the past two year she's published two books: Mirror Image and Gumshoe. (What had happened was that when I published Jolt: a rural noir, Betty remembered she had five unpublished novels stuck somewhere in the closet, so she pulled out those two and tells me she has a third due out soon. Can't beat that!)

And then today we celebrated my paternal aunt, Marie Sicolo's, 88th! A good time was had by all.

What a wonderful feeling it must be to have gathered around you not only your three daughters and son and their various spouses, but also their children, and their children's children--Marie's great grandchildren! Happy Birthday Marie! And Happy New Year also to you.

I feel a bit remiss to have neglected this blog recently, however I have been blogging. If you are on my or the Alva Press Mailing list, you should be getting updates as to where you can read me in any particular week as I alternate my efforts among this one and the ones to be found on Alva Press, Inc., robertamroyonnuclearsurvival, and Mutterings of Alva the Indie at robertamroy.wordpress.com.

Yes, I do not forget you. It's just that I am something of a peripetic when it comes to writing to you. So do check out the links to all my blogs by going to en.gravatar.com/robertamroy and tag along with me wherever I go. I just ove your company.

Roberta in Po-Town, Wishing you a happy New Year 2012 filled with health, hope, and happiness!

This is not the first time I take issue with the Urban Dictionary. Also it's not the first time I find it has usurped, gutted, chewed up, and spat out a perfectly clear and workable term good for all ages and turned it into a booby trap for anyone such as myself, too busy to worry much about staying hep. (Checked hep in the UD and here in the East it still means stylish or cool. Whew!)

Turkeyed out, however, has been less lucky than hep. So let me explain to my readers who: 1. Never heard the expression. 2. Never had an American Thanksgiving turkey dinner. 3. Immediately apply the Urban Dictionary definition to turkeyed out--and to which the implication has been added that anyone who is turkeyed out is also a bit crazy and at any moment likely to do something grumpy or wild. Not so in my book. Not if one goes to the meaning of turkeyed out we knew as we grew up and as we still use it within the family.

Nope, turkeyed out meant that at Thursday's Thanksgiving dinner one had eaten turkey from a plate filled with anything from potatoes to stuffing to turnips to whatever suited your preference, smothered in turkey gravy. 

Thanksgiving evening, Dad would again dance out the turkey rack and there would be the turkey sandwiches. These could be hot with turkey gravy poured over them or cold with turkey, stuffing, and cold turkey gravy or cranberry sauce in them.

Friday lunch would slip by with hardly a ripple as everyone would still be filled from the previous day and Dad's fresh morning muffins. Maybe a piece of left over pumpkin or apple pie would do. And coffee. But by dinner hour everyone was starving so again, out came the turkey and assorted left overs.

Each family had their own way of reheating things. Some steamed them. Some baked them. In my family, my father would drag out two big frying pans. In one pan he would arrange one food so as to cradle another. That pan he'd fill with left-over mashed potatoes beside left over turnips and carrots  beside left-over sweet potatoes beside left-over potatoes. The second he would line with slices of the turkey pan-stuffing to be warmed in a shallow bed of water until it was all steamed and hot. The left over turkey by then was off the bone and sliced and he warmed that in the remaining turkey gravy. Then would be the traditional debate as to which was tastier--the left overs or the original meal. Most preferred the leftovers but regardless of our preference on that issue, we would cleaned up just about everything in sight.

Well, not quite everything.

After dinner, my dad would take the turkey rack, throw it in a large pot of water, and boil it until the meat fell off the bones, after which he would scoop out the rack and turkey meat, carefully remove any bones he found there, cut the turkey into small pieces, re-enter it in the broth, and once more bring it to a boil. Then he would add onions, carrot wheels, celery cuts, and rice or noodles. Et voila! The largest, most delicious pot of turkey soup to be found anywhere. In sum--Saturday's lunch.

Ah, but I forgot to tell you. It seems there had been a bit of sliced turkey he had not served. Not to worry. All my dad did was to prepare some cream sauce with a few pimentos that had been cut into small pieces for color and throw them into the sauce with the turkey cuts. This then took care of Saturday dinner. . . which could be done in two ways. The first was to toast some bread and pour the creamed turkey and pimentos over it. The second was pour the same mixture over baking powder biscuits.

As for Sunday, it was up for grabs. Either we were on our own, could rustle up salads, or help ourselves to a large bowl of turkey soup to be eaten with bread and butter that, being at home, we could just dunk into the broth in order to achieve the most luscious and delicious bite of broth-laden bread and butter one could imagine.

Later, when we lay back on the couch, sated and unable to move due to the amount of turkey and turkey products we had consumed over the previous four days, no one jumped nor acted crazy or grumped about anything. We couldn't. Indeed, we were turkeyed out.

Roberta in Po-Town, Gobble-gobble

P. S. Sometimes I think the Urban Dictionary is all just a bunch of gobble-gook.

My middle grandson is a beautiful boy. He's almost eleven, has yet to learn to talk, takes only sparing interest in socializing, and needs one hundred per cent attention of his caregiver if he is to sit at a table, eat and drink in a balanced way, and utilize his just emerging communication skills. So the way the family has worked it out is that he and his mom and his other grandmother and grandfather first share an early Thanksgiving dinner with him around midday to which he goes with his mom.

Later he and his mom and his maternal grandparents will join us for a second Thanksgiving dinner which his dad and I with the support of my two other grandsons will have prepared for the family.  At that dinner, my most special grandson will sit for a little while and with one hundred per cent attention for him at that time not possible, he will eat a bit and return to his favorite activity--wandering, With his portable CD player in hand and watching a favorite movie or show for the hundredth time, healthy and happy, and just occasionally, only mildly interested in socializing with the rest of us, he will wander the house to periodically come briefly into the room to look around for a few seconds before returning to his wandering movie-viewing.

I guess all family's have someone with special needs. We have my middle grandson.

The second dinner we prepare in stages. Last night it was hors d'oeurves, stuffing, and vegetable-preparation time. My son and seven-year-old and eleven-year-old grandsons and I did that. It took us four hours to: cut the and cook the turnips and carrots; prepare the creamed spinach with hard-boiled eggs; peel and cut the potatoes; mix the cream cheese and olives and cut and stuff the celery; and cook the sausage and crush the walnuts to prepare the stuffing for finishing today. My son did the stuffing, handled the turnip cutting, and ran general interference in the search for the proper pan or bowl. My oldest grandson stood shoulder-to-shoulder with me cutting and doing stove-top boiling of turnips and carrots and mixing the cream sauce. My youngest grandson peeled the potatoes and his middle finger lightly once. All-in-all it was a wonderful time, the results of which will make us all proud come five o'clock.

As for today, we bake the stuffing, pies, and turkey, make the gravy, boil the potatoes, and sit to eat at five o'clock.

My daughter-in-law is does what I call the decor: Last night she put up the Christmas tree. It took her four hours, but you should see it. It's a real balsam with perfect shape, hundreds of tiny white lights, and a long history of special decorations. Today it will add just the perfect touch. And whew, it's done!

Today my daughter-in-law will do the table settings. I always look forward to them. Each year they become if anything, just more beautiful. Ropes of gold leaves, a bowl of sparkling flowers--one never knows--but we all look forward to them.

Well, I have to go now. I usually help with the timing for cooking, you know--what goes on when--what comes out or off when. However each year I have less to do as my grandsons grow and the team becomes more experienced and communication requires less an less lengthy explanation. That said, Thanksgiving remains my favorite holiday.

Wishing you  a Happy Thanksgiving filled with good food and happy comaradie! 

Roberta in Po-Town, Cookin'

Sometimes I hurry to blog a bit of news or a fresh insight on an aspect of life. Other times such as now, I blog to blog. It's a bit like fishing. My thoughts float around over an apparently placid surface of life. I cast my line outward and wait for something to grab me.

It doesn't worry me that I haven't a clue as to where the line will lead me. I simply cast and wait. Let's see. The season? After all it is Thanksgiving week. Or how about work? Seems a bit of a downer just before a holiday. Or maybe politics? I can always kick up something there. Oh. I think I got one! Outliers! I love'em.

To tell you the truth, while some might judge me to be an outlier, I hardly touch to skirt of either being or becoming one. Michaelangelo and Steve Jobs were outliers. And Emily Dickenson. And Lucretia Mott. And maybe those who participate in the Occupy Movement. 

Why? Well, Steve Jobs was extreme in that he changed all our lives. Recall the days before the desktop with graphic interface and mouse? Can you imagine life without a mobile phone? Or the iPod? Or iTunes? Or even the iPad? Perhaps you are one who has never known life without these things--things we now almost take for granted. Well, we can thank Steve Jobs for all of them. Difficult to believe. But, yup. That's an outlier for you.

Then there is Emily. Sat around in that big old house associating only with a very small circle of friends and family and writing those itty-bitty crooked poems that resonated in so many hearts we still read her and wonder what makes her work so great--until we try to produce something in her style, and, well, it just ain't so easy.

And that's part of what makes Emily the outlier that she is and what makes her special. But then even if you don't like her work, you have to admire her fortitude and ability to hang in there as a small but irrepressible voice of a woman--when women were only just learning to read and write, so to speak, and male literature dominated the day.

Or Lucretia Mott: Quaker, Abolitionist, Feminist--in a time when being any one of the three might have made one an outlier But there she was, sitting in a Quaker school in upstate New York in good ole' Po-Town and advocating for the rights of slaves and women all in one breath--just another outlier.

Gotta' appreciate the steel Mott must have needed to stand up to the world and speak out when so few were. Yup. Makes me feel grateful just to know she was there to cut the path--and, as it was, just down the road a bit at Oakwood School in Poughkeepsie.

And now we have the Occupiers--outliers. Outliers all. But are they really? Or are they central to our culture? Maybe even more so than you or I? Maybe like Jobs and Dickenson and Mott with the difference between us and them mainly in just two areas: insight and leadership. 

Consider this. Leonardo DaVinci invented some flying machines--well, he drew some plans for some which, when one thinks about what constitutes a patent, is essentially inventing. He just never quite got around to building them. I suppose DaVinci was an outlier of sorts, even with flying machines, but not the kind of actualizer-outlier I'm thinking about when it came to them.

Now Jobs could have done the same as DaVinci with his notion of the desktop. And the mouse. Or, like DaVinci, he could have drawn the plans for an iPod and a mobile phone and made clay models of them and let it go at that. And then just maybe someone might have come along in the same way as did the French when they invaded Italy in 1498. You see, DaVinci had built a clay model of the 24 foot horse which when they invaded, the French destroyed; this then left Il Cavallo to not be cast before some 500 years passed and an art afficiado and outlier named Charlie Den started a dream fund that eventually enlisted the Tallix Art Foundry in Beacon, New York, to cast the horse--at a cost of $6.5 million--all in private donations--to be sent in 1999 as a gift to Milan, Italy, where it still stands. Except if Jobs had done that, we can't be sure anyone else in our lifetimes would have quite been up to the tasks he took on and we could all still be typing letters and using snailmail for our prime method of overland written communication.

The term outlier, is a funny term. You can use it as a perjorative or as a simple descriptor. For me, I like it as a descriptor. I not only find the term interesting, I also have a penchant for the outliers who change the world for the better. And as it turns out, I'm even happy to learn of those with little success who at least do more than talk to themselves in closets and who maybe knock at least a few particles this way or that for the better. At least they have dared to come out to talk to the world--even at the risk of ridicule and derision--as do the Occupiers.

Now if I were looking for some funny people, I wouldn't lift the flaps of the tents of those who participate in the Occupy Movement. Nope. I'd march myself right on down to D.C. and stop in and visit all those Representatives and Senators in Congress wallowing in a kind of ridiculous collusion with the rich whom to begin with the wimps are all just second-guessing as being among the most miserly people in the world and on whose behalf that same wimpy group in Congress would willingly starve 46.2 million people in the nation--Wikipedia statistic for number in the USA below poverty line in 2010--before they'd cut the military or raise the taxes on the top 1%--the same 1% who among them hold a third of the wealth in the country and probably, as such, wouldn't feel it at all if their taxes were increased even to levels levied in the 1970's--before the Bush-Reagan rich-mix tax cut flurry. 

As for me, I'm standing with the Outliers--Jobs, Dickenson, Mott, Charlie Den, and the Occupiers. Their hearts are in the right place and each has demonstrated the importance of creative, responsive, and caring leadership.

As for us? Where are we? Perhaps we feel too uninformed to make a statement? Or maybe we should wait for someone to pick up the pieces and build a better mousetrap when we're dead? Or are we talking to our neighbors? Writing to our Congressmen?

And me--I'm already thinking of 2012 and the fact that its an election year. And I've registered to vote. You, too?

Roberta in Po-Town, Wishing us a sanerThanksgiving 2012

With Hurricane Irene and Snow Leaf II behind us, it has become a truly wonderful fall--bright, clear, and relatively colorful. Love the weather! (No to mention the fact that my responsibilities as an SLP promise to be more readily achievable than they have been since starting a new caseload in September.)

Politically, it's an interesting time. Politics rather than disasters and war have become the topic of the day: the IMF, Greek elections, the economy in Italy, how Pakistan should best respond to the American draw down in Afghanistan.

Also local politics are interesting. Our city has changed hats as the Council went overwhelmingly Democratic. At the county level, however, there was a change in County Executive but no change in party. We went with the more experienced Republican on the ballot.

Meantime the Republican candidates for president are bent on knocking President Obama in his strong suit, foreign policy. That's probably because they really lack the answers to what currently is the larger question--the economy.

Well, you know where my vote is going come next November.

As for Alva Press, Inc., I am seeking a way to dedicate more time to developing it--not easy when one must work for a living. It sure would help if I were to find a really good PR person to help me out five hours a week--at top dollar, that is all I can afford. 

Big hurray! Kristen Henderson likes Alva Press's contract. Next week we'll meet over dinner in Roessleville to review and sign our agreement so Alva can publish her book of glorious poetry come the new year.

Roessleville is about half way to Cherry Valley where Henderson runs the Cherry Branch Gallery from Poughkeepsie, NY, where I live.

My take on Kristen's book, Drum Machine, is that it will take many awards! Already the poet, musician, and published author, Carl Waldman, www.goodreads.com/author/show/106099.Carl_Waldman, has written an insightful and enthusiastic introduction to it. Thank you, Carl!

As for my writing, I've decided to set aside Too Close for a while and try something lighter, a historical novel which I will call Two. Two is the story of a feminist activist in the 1970's as she advocates for the rights of women and minorities and struggles to balance her relationships with her daughter and husband with the demands of her need for a full time activist commitment outside the home. Based freely on some of my own experiences in The Movement--which at that time we called The Feminist Movement but which now is referred to as The Second Wave--it flows from my pen much more easily and, for that reason, is more fun to write. Just now, however, I had to put down the pen to research actual dates and events in that decade and its antecedents from the '60's, about which I am less informed.

BTW. Could I ask you a favor? If you get chance, do check in on GoodReads.com. It's a really nice free informational source on books to read and readers' opinions of them. And while you are there, do add another five-star critique or comment about my award winning novel, Jolt: a rural noir. 

Sales of Jolt: a rural noir, now available from http://alvapressinc.com in eBook as well as traditional form since I lost my PR person are lagging. But as word of mouth is a great healer and Alva Press needs a little boost that you could give it, I'm optimistic that this will not last long.

Yes, nothing beats the personal recommendation of someone you care about and respect.

I wrote Jolt: a rural noir because I care about you. Please care about me. Do sign onto GoodReads.com at www.goodreads.com/book/show/9076551-jolt and give Jolt a five-star plug. It sure would help!

Also, if you have not ordered your Trade paperback, hard cover, or eBook copy of Jolt: a rural noir, you can do it now. Just click the link for Alva Press, Inc. above.

Roberta in Po-Town, On waking

I'll be brief. It's time for bed. Still, there is time enough to say hello. No, I have not slipped from this mortal coil. I am alive and well. And publishing!

July slipped into August and now August into September and only now I raise my head to view the world again. The effort has been relentless and either I am on a steep learning curve or have become a slow learner. When not at Astor doing therapy or participating in brief visits with my son, grandsons, and sisters, I have been involved in publishing for Alva. Since June Alva has leapt forward: a small copying arm of the company has been initiated. The website has been totally redesigned--twice--once by a professional service and once by a digital designer with whom I have contracted.

Hurricane Irene, downgraded to a Tropical Storm has been through. The Alva  main computer has crashed--and been resurrected. We have learned to publish eBooks in ePub and Mobi formats so they can be used on almost all eReaders including Nook and Kindle. I have learned to accept and email large files and to transfer files to Nook and Kindle. Alva has completed her first major PR campaign with letters and follow-up emails to a couple of thousand contacts across the North American continent. WKNY in Kingston, New York, had me over for an interview on 'The Morning Show' with Warren Lawrence. It was fun. Warren asked good questions and invited me back to talk about Yell'n'Tell when it is released. That's the book I wrote for children in the primary grades. It's the story of a child who is secretly bullied by a friend and what he does about it.

And now as the Tenth Anniversary of 9/11 approaches, Alva hopes that people will take note Jolt: a rural noir, written to commemorate the impact of 9/11 and all we have learned about effective community response since then. Meantime, as the clock ticks toward midnight, I'd better close.

Tomorrow is another day.

Roberta in Po-Town, Takin' a breather 

Do I shoot myself in the foot when I write on three time dated blogs? Because I blog here and on alvapressinc.com as well as alvapressinc.com/robertamroyonnuclearsurvival, when readers note the dates on any given blog, am I perceived as a less than dedicated writer? Does my involvement in more than one blog suggest that I am fickle? -- Decisive, yes. Fickle, no. Just more interested in communicating seriously on three strands in my life. But definitely dedicated.

And will it further complicate the picture when my author publisher's blog moves to Alva's new site, ealvaink.com from which Alva's eBooks will be distributed?

Well, whatever the reader's take--I rarely hear from more than one or two of the hundreds--it ain't a gonna' change--except of course if there is some kind of an unanticipated outcry in response to this post.

So why do I list rhetorical questions, knowing that they remain for the most part for me to answer? Well, it seems I write not only to clarify my thinking but to help you the reader understand the rationale behind my blogging style and any apparent lack of commitment I make to a given blog.

Thie triforcated approach is comfortable for me and its appropriateness supported by visitor stats and the limited direct reader responses to date. As such, I believe the reader who prefers following this blog is more likely to feel a kinship with me the person as I know some are relatives. And some are old friends. For instance, it was because of the complaint of a lifelong friend about my use of colors in the earlier version of this blog that I changed them to these current, sharper-contrast hues. 

My friend's complaint was that her husband could not read the writing with the former palette as he is somewhat color blind. I changed them to these and they worked for him, which, BTW, I like better anyway. So thank you dear friend in CA! 

And I suppose not everyone wants to follow the throes of a publisher author and her company Alva Press or its developing subsidiary eAlvaInk. Just as I would guess that half the world is genuinely less than interested in discussing survival--particularly the nuclear kind. Yet hundreds are and as it turns out, while publishing draws a steady readership, nuclear survival draws significantly more. Which reminds me: I need to spread the word about eAlvaInk's soon to be released eBook form of Jolt: a rural noir on the http://alvapressinc.com/robertamroyonnuclearsurvival website/blog!

So there you have it: If you are interested in reading new blogposts from me on a weekly basis, you will need to follow the three:

http://alvapressinc.com -Author Publisher Blog
http://alvapressinc.com/robertamroy - Personal/Political Blog
http://alvapressinc.com/robertamroyonnuclearsurvival - Nuclear/General Health and Survival Blog

Or perhaps you are happy to just check in once a month on one of the above blogs you find of interest. Whatever suits your fancy, just remember you are always welcome.

Also, would you e so kind as to click the comment button and say hello or comment once in a while? On the survival blog can sign the guestbook found on the extreme upper right of the page. For the other sites, the comment button is below each related blog entry. 

As the comment buttons are easy to miss, please look for it. And do drop me a line sometimes. It would be so nice to get to know you better!

Roberta in Po-Town, Happy to chat

The first time someone called me an 'author', I did a double take. Then with blogging and the Alva site expansion, the appellation 'author publisher' at first sat a little oddly. Now with eAlvaInk, the singular reference 'publisher' makes me feel like a little girl wearing her mom's high heels. Very sexy. Very exciting. And very complex.

I like building a company. Especially my own dear Alva Press, Inc. or 'Alva' as I fondly refer to it.

Recently the cadre of cohorts dedicated to Alva's growth through eAlvaInk has mushroomed with the addition of a designer, a public relations person, and some support staff to help with mailings and paperwork. And this weekend I roped my son, Stef, into it being in charge of electronic purchasing and associated scanning, copying, and printing. He's really good with all things electronic as well as things like cover design.

These changes follow close on the heels of Alva acquiring a business phone/fax with a super easy to remember number: (845) 454-5200.

Who knows where it will end?

And what's next?

Well, in the short term, Alva will publish Jolt: a rural noir as an eBook through eAlvaInk to be distributed through Alva's website. Also Alva will contract with outlets like Barnes and Noble, Amazon.com, and Apple for uploading through Nook, Kindle, and eReader. Naturally Alva will also use the largest eBook aggregator of them all to get Jolt: a rural noir out to the reading public: Smashwords.

Following that, the game plan is for Alva to also ePublish Roy's children's book, Yell'n'Tell. And, although it is not possible on all tablets and readers, of particular interest to Roy is the potential for its distribution through Kindle as an audiobook.

And while all this is happening, Alva actively solicits books by other writers interested in eBooking through eAlvaInk.

Is it any wonder it is a month since I blogged here?

Nonetheless, I have added an excerpt from Lily White Lies by Kathy Reinhard to the Alva PressVisiting Writers page. And the invitation to other writers to submit excerpts from published works and a brief bio for inclusion there, too, stands. (Guidelines are 150 word excerpt, 25 word bio with link.)

And I do try to keep up with Alva's Author Publisher blog.

So do come over to http://alvapressinc.com as Alva would love you to just read and browse there.

You know how Alva is--just loves to entertain.

Roberta in Po-Town, at eAlvaInk

Oddly and unexpectedly I found the ninety minute filmed tour of the quarter of a mile of pristine Chauvet Cave in southern France, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, particularly moving. What struck me was how the speaker, speleologist Jean-Marie Chauvet, was able to discuss the art and the life behind the art and very skillfully to tie it to the situation in the world today, where evolution continues to move life in paths not always most promising.

Among the ups and downs of life, Chauvet noted that while humans in the Paleolithic period painted and played small flutes, there is no evidence that the Cro Magnons who inhabited the earth for a time concurrently, did either. But of greatest interest to me was his speculations as to the thinking of the people who visited this cave some 32,000 years ago. Given that the venus figure found there morphed from human lower body to animal head and that an apparent alter with the skull of an animal place careful facing out upon it he was able to infer several likelihoods.

Chauvet’s inferences included what he referred to as the concepts of  permeability and permanence. By permeability I understood him to mean that the cave people viewed life as a continuum without clear demarcations among the concepts of man, animal, and nature. That said, it suggested a sense of early spirituality wherein it was natural to build an alter, albeit adorned by the skull of an animal, and thereafter to light small deferences of incense about it. This had been suggested by the evidence of small sites about the alter that appeared to be where incense might have been burned.

But the idea of permanence seemed to me, a speech language pathologist, of even greater significance as in human development it is a later developing concept. Once one has the concept of permanence one is able to speak of now, then, and the future. One can experience more sense of responsibility for things now, a sense of regret for things past, and, perhaps most importantly, a sense of tomorrow.

Further, it is because of our sense of permanence that we can learn from our mistakes, enjoy today, and plan for tomorrow. In a sense our own personal ability to evolve into wiser, more responsible, and better informed persons would not occur with our strong sense of permanence. As such we can imagine the cave dwellers of 32,000 years ago picking up a charred stick to draw on the cave wall what he or she saw that morning in order to help the group to plan for the afternoon’s hunt or the cave’s defense.

Cave of Forgotten Dreams ended however on a rather wrenching note. Twenty miles from its site is situated the largest nuclear power plant in France. Its warmed waters leach from and back into the river on which banks it sits. Not far from the plant, an enormous greenhouse sits, warmed and irrigated by the steam from the nuclear power plant. Into this environment alligators have been introduced and thrive there. Large and fertile they reproduce with ease, their offspring totally white mutants, just one more step in the evolutionary chain, this time however possibly prompted by not only the warmed atmosphere of the nuclear power plants steam, but also by its radioactive elements.

Roberta in Po-Town, Words Fail Me

Cheating today. Decided to embed a letter to the editor I wrote this morning regarding the budgetary discussions in Washington in a blog I posted on http://alvapressinc.com/robertamroyonnuclearsurvival that I am now posting here with the introductory suggestion that if you decide to read to the end you will then have a notion as to how I am able to compartmentalize and layer my life as expressed through my blogs, this one being generally the most personal one. And here is what I wrote:

I'm aware that my intent with this blog has been to primarily to raise our understanding and awareness of nuclear and other issues related to survival and, at the bottom line, healthy living. However, as the feminist Kate Millet suggested with her book Sexual Politics, just breathing can be political and the issues under discussion in Washingon are too important to pass up without considering how the Federal Government spends our tax dollars.

My original plan for this blog was to discuss safety standards at nuclear reactors and our need to move more toward increased reliance on clean energy except I found that in good conscience, I couldn't do that without also discussing the current tax picture. Also, had the discussions in Washington had less of an Alice-in-Wonderland quality to them with some of the Congressional freshman seemingly going around repeatedly yelling, "Off with their heads," I might have done so. But such is not the case. And so below I include the content of a Letter to the Editor I wrote this morning expressing some of my own personal views on where the money should and shouldn't go. 
 

As the Federal Government wrangles with the budget, let’s tell our representatives: we’re tired of having more than half our tax dollars go to the military; we do support Medicaid and Medicare; and we do like the little guy.

Let’s say, “Cut back our military involvements arms build up, the cost of which –missile by missile – drains our coffers and drags us into deeper debt. And bring our troops home!”

And yes, we do want to decrease time spent on Medicaid-Medicare documentation and to redirect those savings into recipient care, thereby significantly reduce the Medicaid-Medicare cost per enrollee. And yes, do raise the taxes on the rich—that top ten per cent of the nation that owns ninety per cent of the wealth whose taxes over the past fifty years have instead been regularly lowered.  And yes, we do want unions to have the right to negotiate terms and conditions including hours, responsibilities, salary and benefits.

While extreme distracters to the right consistently move the discussion away from the real issues—health and safety, family stability, the right to work, clean environment—we need to speak out clearly through their noise: No new nuclear plants. Give us CLEAN ENERGY: water, wind, geothermal! Give little guys a voice—especially as in states where there are unions, while workers may be happier, salaries tend to be lower—so unions are not all about money.  And for goodness sake, bring our military home!

Roberta in Po-Town, Doin' the Right Thing

I picked up the March 11, 2011 edition of Time for Kids. Its cover read, “10 Most Important Women of the Century.” Which century, I wondered? March 2010-2011? 2011-2012? Opening it I found it to be the former. Nice I thought.

I began to read:  Jane Addams (1860-1935) pioneer in social work; Marie Curie (1867-1934) Polish-born scientist  and recipient of the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1903 and in Chemistry in 1911 paving the way for the treatment of cancer with radiation and women in science; Rachel Carson (1907-1964) author of Silent Spring about the danger of pollution and chemical pesticides which kicked off the environmentalist movement;  Mother Theresa (1910-1997) winner of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979 for her charity work in India with the poor and sick; Rosa Parks (1913-2005) civil rights advocate who demonstrated the power of peaceful protest; Margaret Thatcher (1925-present) Britain’s first female Prime Minister; Sandra Day O’Connor (1930-present) state senator and first woman on the U. S. Supreme Court; Angela Merkel ; (1954-present) physicist/German Chancellor/Statesperson;  Oprah Winfrey (1954-present), born poor became entertainment star, author, business woman and philanthropist. Hmm.

And then I read the headline for the spread, “Women’s History Month Special Issue: POWERFUL WOMEN,” and it did not sit well. Why POWERFUL?  And why POWERFUL in upper case letters? Like someone was yelling? And I wondered how other women felt about it? And men? But I posted it on the wall in the hall of the school anyway.

Still my reaction to the phrase would not dissipate. So I tried it to see how it would feel if I wrote POWERFUL MEN.  Hmm. Never saw that before. Wonder why? Then I got it. It’s the redundancy.  How’s that? Well having grown up in an era when women in academia were rarely mentioned in books and most of the writers we read were male, there was no need to drive home the point that men had POWER. We lived it. Breathed it. In those days the concept of the glass ceiling for women had not even become a twinkle in a anyone’s eye.

Next I went through how I use the word power. Powerful punch.  The United States is a world power. Germany is a world power. Explosive power. Nuclear power. Powerful muscles. Power to move an object. Power to lift something. Hmm. None of these really seem to apply to women. In fact the only power that came to mind in reference to women was something to the effect of, “Whew! That was some powerful perfume!” Translation: “Thank goodness that awful smell is gone!”

And then I got it. It has to do with framing. It’s a concept I just learned recently. Like the difference between calling a kid who took a cookie a thief and calling your broker a thief.  Or the difference between saying, “She is very sweet,” and “He is very sweet.”  And just to make my point, I am going to take the paragraph that lists the women named and include only the attributes listed after which the choice is to include all the things listed as among things powerful and in so doing re-do the definition of POWERFUL or find another word or groups of words that are a better fit. So here goes:

“Pioneer in social work; scientist  and recipient of the Nobel Prize in Physics and in Chemistry  paving the way for the treatment of cancer with radiation and women in science;  author of Silent Spring about the danger of pollution and chemical pesticides which kicked off the environmentalist movement;  winner of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979 for charity work in India with the poor and sick; civil rights advocate who demonstrated the power of peaceful protest; first female Prime Minister; state senator and first woman on the U. S. Supreme Court;  physicist/German Chancellor/Statesperson;  born poor became entertainment star, author, business woman and philanthropist.”  So let’s see. Five of the women have references to pioneer-kicked off-first female-paved the way-first female.  Two were scientists. Five were involved in social causes and philanthropy. Three became elected officials. One became a U. S. Supreme Court judge.

So my vote is for the notion that the article might have been better named “Influential Women.” I say this because I believe that although I would love it if it were to happen, it will be quite a while before the average person is about to understand that powerful has a meaning associated with being either the first female, a Nobel Prize winter, a scientist or anyone in America involved in environmentalist, social, and civil rights issues. 

Roberta in Po-Town, Nuff’ said