WEP - Changing Faces - What Now?

I wake up, look in the bathroom mirror, and a different face looks back at me.

Write, Edit, Publish at Denise Covey's site

Parts 1 and 2 are summarized, Part 3 is New


Take Me Away - Part 1, Beginnings

As I gaze at the Seine River from the Pont D'Iena, I don't regret what I have done. My past life is gone forever. My family, my work, all gone. I wish the river would take me away too, but I have a few things to do first.

In this, my new beginning, I burned the letters which would incriminate others. They were worth a fortune. But there is one more, an important one. The Paris letter is hidden in the lower levels of the Louvre, in one of the statues in Antiquity. 

I know which one. . .

(for full original post click on title)

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Part 2 - Louvre Antiquities Letter: The April Fool

I looked at the charcoal grey envelope in my hand held close, as if I might lose it. This was my freedom letter, my payoff. The last thread of my old life. . . before they kidnapped my sister. The envelope had been exactly where I was told to find it, in a cleverly concealed narrow crevice in the back of the Sekhmet statue. Perhaps the Egyptians had passed missives that way too.

As I sit waiting in the private train compartment at the Gare St. Lazare, my thoughts are interrupted by the rumble of the engines, the ringing of the bells and blowing of the whistles, interwoven with the slightly oily smell and the hissing of the air brakes. I  close my eyes to shut out the noise and drift into a short nap, finding myself back in that dimly lit hallway of an older apartment building. . .

. . .I'm walking down the corridor. . .I hear small noises like talking, I'm almost there, get ready, release the safety, secure grip, push door, throw in a smoke device. It lands between them on the bed. This man killed my sister. They turn as one, I aim and fire, intent only on accuracy. Snick! Smoke is filling the room. No witnesses. Aim. Snick! Keep moving fast. . .  Focus. Remove silencer, empty chambers, get out of the building. Into the car and on the road.

I live in Paris now, maybe a long time, maybe not. Yesterday, I went to the old cafe in the Marais. I sat at a different table the first time after the surgery and they treated me as if I were a new customer. On the second visit to the Cafe Louis Phillippe, I sat at my old table, but none of the waiters working now had been here five years ago.

(full original post click on title above)

Paris - Cafe Louis Phillippe, by DG Hudson

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Part 3 - Changing Faces: What Now?

I've been transformed, given a new lease on life, but the inside me is still the same. The voice is slightly smoky now, an effect achieved by fraying the vocal cords minutely. . .all part of the Changing Faces deluxe identity package.

Changing faces gives me freedom, protects my identity and may even give me cover. I've cut all the ties to my previous life, so I've closed any way of them tracing me. No forwarding addresses are sent out and I've moved a few times.

I can't communicate with anyone, relative or not. I need to blend into the centuries old buildings that survive in Paris. They said disappear. I plan to, including disappearing from them too. Never trust those who want you to disappear.

It will take a long time for the fear to recede. I will stare at those who look similar to the ones responsible. One day, I may get my revenge on all of them. Or not. I don't know how I'll feel about it once I feel settled.  But will I ever feel safe?

Paris - the Eiffel Tower, Seine River, Bridges and Lampposts by DG Hudson

My name is now Lise, although that isn't my birth name. I'm sitting at a table for two at the Resto Med, a cozy family owned café at 77 rue St Louis, Île Saint Louis, one of the islands in the Seine.

I saw an old and dear friend come in and my heart jumped, but he walked right past, even though he looked directly at me. He saw my face, and my eyes, which are colored by opaque contacts. There was no sign of recognition. He looked no different, just a slight graying at the temples, and now he wears a neatly trimmed mustache.  He was a lover at one time. After he was gone, my mood changed.  I was not 'me' anymore. That fact had just been slammed home.

In the mirror, I see a face with no flaws, a mannequin face. No one warned me about the psychological implications of morphing into a different shell. C'est la vie! It is done. I will try to wear this skin as if I was born with it. A sip of wine and a perfectly seasoned curried chicken on rice will help me to soothe my woes.

My new life begins today. From now on, I live for me.


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WEP

Would you like to challenge yourself? Try Write...Edit...Publish! aka WEP

Join us for a monthly signup and some very interesting reading. It's flexible. I joined the once-a-month bloghop since I wanted to write a few short stories or write in installments like the old-time serials. I've also met fellow writer-bloggers with the same penchant for responding to Denise's challenges. WEP can help you practice short writing and the prompts will invigorate your creative thinking.

Write…Edit…Publish! welcomes you to submit any of the following – flash fiction, poetry, non-fiction or playscripts to a word count of 1,000 words – artwork and photographs accompanied by your written inspiration in creating your work/s.

Next Challenge: October - Ghost Story
Denise Covey - WEP in detail, the signup and list of remaining prompts


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Would you like to get a new face? One that makes you look totally different, not just plumped and tightened? Mirrors don't lie, do they?

Please leave a comment to let me know you were here, and I'll respond. Thanks for dropping by and taking the time to read my entry.
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References:

http://www.yelp.com/biz/cafe-med-paris-2 Images on Yelp of the Resto Med. ( I didn't get a photo when we were there)

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A Stairway in Paris - Romance a la WEP

Anything can happen in Paris. Approach it with love, adapt to its rhythms. . .as Madeleine must do when she meets a man in an unlikely place in her new apartment building on the rue de Rivoli.





JUNE 24-26 WEP - Romance is the Challenge

A Stairway in Paris

As she pushed the eight foot doors inward in a building that would now be home, Madeleine saw the small lobby, one side faced with a huge mirror and the other painted in two neutral tones. Opening the door wider, she pulled in the two valises, pushed the door back into place and locked it. 

Before her she saw a circular stairway of low-rise stairs, but no elevator. There was nothing else to be done, but to pull them up by herself. My arms will be sore for a week, how could I not check that?

Her apartment, number 303, was leased for a year. That meant four floors up from ground level she had a small piece of Paris with wrought iron windows and a small kitchen. In some older buildings, a lobby like this one would have a small elevator which would hold two people or four suitcases, but not this one.

She started up the stairs before she heard someone coming down. She had one suitcase by the handle and the other she pulled behind. I can't stop now, I'll never make it if I do. She kept going. The footsteps came closer until a dark-haired young man came around the curve of a turn in the stairway. She glanced up surprised, hoping he would stand aside and let her pass.

"Excusez-moi . . ." he said, watching the petite young woman struggle with the two valises by herself.

"Pardon, excuse-moi, Monsieur, these cases are as heavy as they look, please let me pass."

Stunned for a moment, he let her go past before he found his voice.

"Oui, but may I assist with your valise?"

"Pardon-moi?"

He repeated in part English, part French and pointed to her suitcase.

"Oh. Oui, merci."

Gaston carried the heavier valise and followed behind. Madeleine's arms and shoulders were starting to feel the strain when she finally arrived on the third level. I should have brought the suitcases one at a time, but it's my art tools, my work.

"This valise is heavy, too heavy for a mademoiselle."

"Perhaps, but what else can a 'poor' mademoiselle do but try?"

"Ah, you put me in place? I didn't mean it that way."

She grinned and offered a handshake, stopping halfway. "Non, certainly not. I'm Madeleine Lafitte. I appreciate the wit and your help with these bags. It's art equipment."

Bistrot Marguerite Napkin, by DG Hudson

 

 

He took her offered hand in his, but only held it, he didn't kiss it. "I am Gaston Chambord, pleased to meet you. I study art too, when I'm not working at the Bistro Marguerite*. It's not far from here."

He let go of her hand reluctantly. "I live down at the far end, number 309. We're neighbors."

"I was lucky to meet you on the stairs, thank you again." She walked to the door to see him out.

"You are welcome, Madeleine. Next time, maybe we can have coffee and talk. Au revoir."

"Oui, that would be nice. Au revoir!" I wonder why he didn't kiss my hand? I thought that always happened. . .

After Gaston left, she unpacked her tea kettle and made hot tea. She would have to look for a café in a few hours. But she couldn't stop thinking about this man she had met on the stairway. He had helped save her from a dislocated shoulder. A bit of a hero. What was the name of the place where he said he worked?

Later, she found the Bistro Marguerite as she took a walk at dusk for that purpose. Near the Hotel de Ville, this café glowed warmly on the street corner near the Seine River. She didn't see Gaston among the staff at the front, so she sat in the outside area where you could look about the evening streets. As she sat wondering if she'd be able to decipher the menu, one of the other waiters came to her table.

Bistrot Marguerite, Paris, by DG Hudson

It was not Gaston, but another waiter who spoke English well enough to help with her order. He suggested either Cod cooked the French way or Grilled Salmon. She ordered grilled herbed salmon with slivered green beans and eyed the outside décor while she waited. Her attention wandered to the Seine and the streets beside the bistro. Several couples walked by, enjoying the night and being in Paris. They looked in to see what people were eating, she looked out to see if they were tourists or locals. As if she could tell.

She had a small book to read while she sipped her wine and water. As the waiter brought her order, she looked up and saw a friendly smile.

"Madeleine, you found the Bistro Marguerite! My friend asked me to attend the young mademoiselle's order, so I help him out of course and then I see it is you. The food here is tres bon."

"This smells wonderful. I hoped you were working so I could thank you again for helping me with my luggage."

"Luggage? Ah, the valise. No problem. Coffee? Maybe a dessert, au gratis?"

"Merci, with cream, please."

"I'm glad you came by. I'd like to walk back with you, but I'm still working."

"Are you finished soon?"

"Oui, in twenty minutes."

"I could wait, I might get lost."

"Exactly. I'll bring the dessert."

The lights dimmed behind them as they left the restaurant, hand in hand. Walking slowly and stopping to admire this or that, they took an hour to cover a ten minute walk.

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END of Part I, A Stairway in Paris.

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*Link to 'Paris Posts' tab, on Bistros and Sidewalk cafés, including 'Bistro Marguerite'.

NOTE: It's not a good idea to address a waiter in France as garçon. It's considered a rude or derogatory expression. Address the waiter as monsieur. 

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Do you take the stairs often? Have you ever had to lug your own heavy suitcases up the stairs? Are you a fan of the genre romantic story? How about a romantic tragedy?

Please leave a comment to let me know you were here, and thanks for dropping by! I'll respond. PS - Writing romance is a stretch for me, so feedback is welcome. This is a side story of a work-in-progress; there will be more in a future WEP.  

Update - correction June 30th, thanks to ABFTS.

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Would you like to challenge yourself? Try Write...Edit...Publish! aka WEP
Join us for a monthly signup and some very interesting reading. It's flexible. I joined the once-a-month bloghop since it meets my needs. I've also met fellow bloggers with the same penchant for responding to Denise's challenges. WEP can help you practice short writing. It's a good way to start story ideas.

Write…Edit…Publish! welcomes you to submit any of the following – flash fiction, poetry, non-fiction or playscripts to a word count of 1,000 words – artwork and photographs accompanied by your written inspiration in creating your work/s.

Next Challenge: July - A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
Owner/Originator: Denise Covey at her website.

For July - December 2014 Challenges:

July-December Challenges at Denise Covey's Site

Denise Covey WEP Site:
http://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.ca/

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'Parisians' by Graham Robb - A City and its People

Is a city shaped by its citizens or are the citizens shaped by their city? Imagine taking a time-machine trip into the past and dropping in on the jazz scene in 50s Paris or watching from a horse as Napoleon's vision of the city unfolds before you. Graham Robb takes us on a similar trip with his novel, Parisians.

Parisians by Graham Robb, pub. 2010

Parisians
An Adventure History of Paris

From Napoleon's first romantic liaison in the big city, to Marie Antoinette's wrong turn, from Madame Zola to the Day of the Fox, and back to the jazz scene of Miles Davis and Juliette Greco of St. Germaine-des-Pres. We learn about the men and women who lived in Paris and helped shape its future. From the unprincipled Vidocq, the notorious head of Paris Intelligence, we learn the basics of spying and questionable police methods.

In a photo of Marville, an area of Paris, we see Baudelaire's childhood home and decades later, Jack Kerouac spends time in a cafe there, circa 1950s. The building has only changed slightly, while man passed by. War and occupation were miserable times for the native Parisians, as we learn how it felt and what one did to cope. Stories of Notre Dame and its mysteries, Marcel Proust and the new Metro, the adventures of Mitterand, and the 'amazing courage' of Charles De Gaulle.

Parisians, published in 2010, contains twenty stories from Napoleon's time up to and including the building of the Peripherique, a perimeter road that encircles Old Paris. A New York Times Notable Book of the Year, Parisians also made Publishers Weekly Best Book of the Year, and Winner of the Royal Society of Literature Ondaatje Prize.

I recommend Parisians, if you like French history stirred with fiction. Two faves in this book: Lovers of St. Germain des Pres (about Miles Davis and Juliette Greco) and the Notre Dame Equation. The cover shown above is a print hardcopy.

Robb also wrote The Discovery of France, and biographies of Balzac,Victor Hugo and Rimbaud.

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Notre Dame, Paris, in 2010, by DG Hudson

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Do you like historical fiction? Interested in Paris' dark past? Do you know of Graham Robb, the author? (UK) Have you heard of the Inspector of questionable origins, Vidocq?
Please share in the comments and thanks for dropping by!

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References:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graham_Robb About the Author, Graham Robb

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eug%C3%A8ne_Fran%C3%A7ois_Vidocq Vidocq, first private detective

http://www.theguardian.com/music/2006/may/25/jazz Greco celebrates past affair with Miles Davis

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PARIS - The Cafe Pages

A peek into four different cafes and four different experiences.


La Pause Beaubourg
Streetside, under the striped awning

La Pause Beaubourg, Paris Cafe by DG Hudson


Leftovers of Love

At Le Pause Beaubourg, we witnessed the emotional aftermath of a romantic breakup when a guy in his twenties had a meltdown right in front of us, live and just across the aisle. He maintained a running one-sided conversation/rant with his sympathetic friend. He, the rejected victim of his love, was besotted with the unfairness in life. His own lack of restraint and the response from the staff at the restaurant rather surprised us. He waved his hands about, put his head in his hands, and he couldn't sit still. He cared little for the other diners. His heart was broken. Understandable.

In most circumstances, or in many cities, the poor lover would have been hustled out. But in this cafe, no one complained and no one was bothered. Instead, a few of the staff patted the 'poor guy' on the shoulders as they went about their work. Perhaps on another day, this 'poor romantic' worked in this cafe.

There must be a story in this scene, somewhere. And a villain. . .

Observation: Love conquers all, but it exacts its cost along the way.


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Cafe Louis Phillippe
by the Seine River

Cafe Louis Phillippe, Rainy Night Paris, by DG Hudson

Camaraderie

Facing the Ile Saint-Louis, le Cafe Louis-Phillippe sits in the same square as the Hotel de Ville, a space it has occupied since 1810. Like many others walking by the Seine River, we wanted French cafe cooking and shelter from the rain. The golden glow of this restaurant drew us in.

Paris rain found us sitting under a full-sided tent style tarp next to a group of mostly male office workers. 'Undercover' sidewalk eating makes sense in Paris and we stayed dry and cozy. Good service, good wine and helpful, friendly staff. Cafe Louis-Phillippe is situated in an area popular with urbanites as well as tourists. After dessert, the rain had stopped, leaving a smell of fresh streets and dampness.

Observation: The love of good food and good company is universal. Rain doesn't stop that.

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Cafe des Arts et Metiers
Latin Quarter

Cafe des Arts et Metiers, Latin Quarter by DG Hudson

What's going on?

In the Cafe des Arts et Metiers, one young waiter with a friendly attitude, kept spilling things on a young couple a few tables away from us. Their backpacks made them appear to be students. They seemed to be talking earnestly or arguing. . .was this sensitivity to a moment, or did the waiter not like what the young man was saying to the young girl? The spill seemed to be more on the guy's side of the table when it happened. . . Interesting to note that the waiter had impeccable touch when he waited our table, but I later saw him observing the couple at the table.

Observation: In Paris, never underestimate the value of having the waiter on 'your side'.

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Le Voltaire Restaurant

Le Voltaire Restaurant, Paris, by DG Hudson

Resistance is Futile

As we sat waiting, we watched Madame Hostess establish her claim on the cafe turf. She nodded to us and seated us in a table perfect for observation and facing the door. In came a young woman, likely a tourist by her abrupt insistence that she be served only wine, no food. The hostess or proprietor told her in no uncertain terms that this was a Restaurant! Restaurant! and not a place to just drink. She sent her away.

Then a woman-of-a-certain-age came in with her shopping bags, plopped them on a tabletop and sat down. Our efficient hostess watched, then approached, told her to remove her bags and wait to be seated. A bit of feminine huffiness ensued. After an apology by said customer, Madame Hostess let her stay.

Now, Madame came to our table to take our order. We ordered the German beer that she recommended, and a quiche. She liked our choices, even smiled at us, as we ordered in our basic French. Guess we passed muster. The 'old French bistro' style decor survives in this cafe and adds to its attraction.

Observation: In an area with high tourist traffic, there may be more sensitivity to tourists' behavior. Be aware.

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These 'Cafe Pages' are based on true events observed in Paris. Interesting people do catch my attention.

Are you an observer? Do you try to be aware of your surroundings? Sometimes these events or scenes unfold in front of us like a play. I'm referring to those incidents which are not life-threatening. Have you had a similar experience?

Please share in the comments. Thanks for stopping by! 

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References:

Check the Paris Posts tab at the top of the blog for more Paris photos and Paris - Bistros and Sidewalk Cafés of Interest for more information on the bistros.

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Update: Oct.2013

Rainforest Pickings #5 - Book Reviews

One of my vices - Real books

A writer needs to gather the tools of the trade.  Reference books are a good addition, and the two writing instruction books below are recommended.  The Paris Wife was a gift, and the old mystery story by Tony Hillerman was one that caught my eye at the local library. 

From the Rainforest Reading Room: 

Writing up a Storm

Released Spring 2011

By Celia Leaman, a Gulf Islands, BC writer, originally from the UK, but now settled in the Pacific Northwest.

Celia was an instructor at Writers Digest University, an online writing school in her recent past.  She's written a play, short stories, a novelette, and a historical novel (suspense/paranormal) placed in the UK .




Writing Instructions. Self-published May 2011.  Available in print or e-book format. http://www.devonshirebabe.com/index.htm


This is NOT a writer’s bootcamp, but a gentle journey leading the novice through the process of creating a novel. For the experienced writer, it offers a substantial number of links for further research and practice in honing the skills needed to produce quality work. The main theme is motivation.

Writing up a Storm offers information on self-publishing and highlights points to consider before you make your decision. Other publishing options are explained briefly, in overview. The content is easy to digest and honest in its perceptions of the publishing industry. For those seeking to enlarge their TBR (to-be-read) pile, a list of writing books by various authors is included at the end.

An excellent resource of writers’ sites, writing skills and encouragement. It’s part of my own reference library and an easy read.  Check it out at Celia's site, and have a look at the delightful short stories she writes about life in the Gulf Islands with the local eccentrics. 

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The Paris Wife - a Novel


Written by Paula McLain, published by Doubleday, a sub of Random House, Spring 2011 release. For all fans of the Hemingway legend.

In 1920’s Chicago, Toronto, and especially Paris, Hemingway’s first wife Hadley follows as he steamrolls ahead in his ambition to become a respected writer. From poignant sketches of the cafes and salons of Paris to the bullfights in Spain, we see what life as the wife of a struggling writer was like during the early 20th century, when the LOST GENERATION made its mark on literature and on Jazz Age Paris.

Everyone seemed to be coming to Paris, all the expatriates disillusioned by the effects of WWI, an event which turned their world upside-down. What is morality when one might die the next day? With companions like Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound and the Fitzgeralds, Hadley, Hemingway, and their circle perceived life through an alcoholic filter considered elegant and social at the time.

Then the bittersweet part comes into play. The female huntresses come for sport and for a prize, Hemingway the writer. Watching the growing popularity of her husband and his attraction to one female after another, Hadley is forced to make a painful decision. Hemingway stays true to his own principles, but the price he pays is a high one.

Paula McLain has written an empathetic story of love & loss which highlights the creative mind’s need for constant approval. It’s never enough.

If you like to read about Hemingway’s early life in Paris, this is required reading. I breezed through the book, revelling in McCain’s succinct assessments of the shallow society life that many of the Lost Generation writers led after their initial flush of success. Her portrait of Hadley helps the reader to see the marvellous woman behind the great writer. Highly recommended, in case you didn’t notice.

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Revision and Self-Editing


Techniques for transforming your first draft into a finished novel; by James Scott Bell, Writers Digest Books, F+W Publications 2008, (Write Great Fiction series) Writing Instruction.

The book is divided into two parts: Self-Editing and Revision. There are twelve chapters on self-editing, each identifying the various elements of a novel and what to look for when it’s time to revise. He includes examples and exercises for practice.

In the second section on revision, Bell includes a great tool: the Ultimate Revision Checklist. This alone would have made me a fan of Mr. Bell’s if the rest of the book hadn’t already done that. The checklist is a valuable resource and helps to break the revision process into manageable parts.

I read this every day at breakfast, marking lots of important points. I love books and generally don’t desecrate them, but (for me) instruction books are meant to be used, marked and corners folded for quick access. Don’t miss the introduction to the book, which compares learning golf to learning to write and revise a novel. I golf sometimes, and he’s right. Practice is the thing.

Once you’ve completed your first draft, I’d recommend getting a copy of this book. It’s in my writing reference library and used often.

*****

The Shape Shifter

Worth-a-second-look book by Tony Hillerman, ‘the master of Southwest Mystery fiction’ with a native twist. Mystery

This is an old series by a recognized writer of mysteries involving some of the Native Indians of the Southwest USA and since I’m researching the techniques of the mystery masters, I thought I’d check him out while at the local library. Our North American native tribes, US or Canadian, have always intrigued me, mainly due to my interest in their beliefs/spirituality and the mistreatment and injustices so many received.

In Shape Shifter, Navajo Tribal Police Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn, now retired, is confronted with news relating to a cold case from his younger years. Bored and intrigued, he can’t resist being drawn into the search for a Navajo rug rumoured to be bad luck for the owner. The rug, made to commemorate an important & painful event for the Navajos, comes to light via a magazine article on the homes of the wealthy. Thus, the chase begins. Digging out facts from this cold case, Leaphorn keeps calling old contacts while trying to dodge the person who is trying to eliminate any witnesses.  He didn't take too kindly to those who were inquiring about his ownership and acquisition of the well-known rug. Beneath all this, we have a chameleon perpetrator who keeps everyone guessing.

Hillerman weaves the native lore into his stories, while keeping us wondering at the capacity for duplicity in the criminal mind. His tolerant viewpoint comes through in his books. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed reading this book,since I hadn’t read Hillerman before. I would definitely read more in the series, in order to follow the Joe Leaphorn saga. Hillerman may no longer be with us, but his fiction and his characters live on.

Isn’t that what all writers want?

So much to read, so little time. Escape today.

*****
Comment received from C. Leaman, author of Writing up a Storm:

"I always enjoy reading others' book reviews as each reader takes something different away from every book. As a writer, I find it interesting because sometimes a reader will see something in my books I didn't even recognize was there. So constructive reviews can be very helpful to a writer. I shall have to check out Hillerman as I haven't read him yet.
Anne48"

NOTE from DG:
Posting comment above received via email.  Wordpress and Blogger seem to speak different languages, not recognizing IDs.
June 1/11


*****