During my years in prison, I became fully convinced that large numbers of men were not capable of playing nice. This belief has been further galvanized since, as testosterone and greed continue to light the world on fire. I’ve said before that my father was like Trump without the money and that I voted for my mom. Yes, she had her problems, but she was totally without malice and she never burned down the house. My cynical view is that the clowns who are now in charge of the circus are okay with passing on a toxic blistered world for their grandchildren to inherit as long as they remain large and in charge.
When I went to college in 2002 as a 42 year old ex-con fresh out of prison, I wrote an impassioned paper making my case for why Hillary, the educated Lawyer, United States Senator, mother and author of a Universal Health Care plan (ultimately shot down by those in the pocket of the pharmaceutical and H.M.O. lobby) should be the first woman President, and Bill the first First Man. But it wasn’t about jokes, it was about changing the political landscape, because, look who we had then and look who we’ve got now.
In Washington State most voters don’t seem to be afraid of women in positions of power, as evident by former Governors Dixie Lee Ray and Christine Gregoire and our two long serving United States Senators, Patty Murray and Maria Cantwell. As far as I know, the men still have their penises.
The Idea of a tidal wave of women in power consumes me and is the theme of my current book project, which is 3 years in the making and close to being a finished manuscript. I stumbled into the blogosphere to share my thoughts with anyone willing to take the time to listen. Here is the one page snapshot that I pitched to a handful of literary agents at the 2017 San Francisco Writer’s Conference:
“Remember when women ruled and men were just happy to help? Me neither. It’s a Mans World, Let’s Fuck It Up is a 70,000 word, crime comedy that follows a handful of relentless women as they bring the local Good-Ole-Boys network to its knees.
Ample finds her calling as master cultivator and den mother to the Transition Scouts of America. Grandpa Dag offers nuggets of wisdom from the confines of his prison cell and the great beyond, while her father Ned is caught in a destructive race to the bottom.
Will the Scouts’ product be good enough to displace Uncle Dub and claim the chronic turf? Will Ned survive his self-loathing, grow up and finally stand on his own? Will Ample be able to keep all these plates spinning after learning her family’s dirty secret?”
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