An excerpt from The Alexanders - The First Decade

The Alexanders - The First Decade.

1911-1920

This is the working title of my work-in-progress (WIP) and I'm having such fun in writing this historical account of Dominic Alexander (Drake Alexander's grandfather) who immigrates to Canada in 1915 and establishes himself in Moncton.

One of my main character's is a young lady that come to work for him and as nature would have it, they fall in love. Her name is Maria Desjardin, from Notre Dame, New Brunswick.

Maria is normally an easy going lady but there's a feisty side to her.

In 1917, during the First World War, there is a shortage of men for many factories and workplaces. The cotton mill in Moncton hires many women. They don't make the same wages, for the same work, as men do.

Maria Desjardin doesn't stand for that.



An excerpt from The Alexanders. (Copyright is held by the author)

The tower of the cotton mill looms menacingly, like a fist, above the small crowd gathered in the shadows of the office door. The last Friday of September has not started off peacefully in the east end of Moncton. Odors from the workings of raw cotton float in the light autumn breeze. The sun barely crests the horizon yet a cluster of shouting woman and several men are waving and demanding that the owner, Baylor Crosswaithe, treat his female employs fairly. They make a glut along the driveway so no one can exit or enter without running over them. It came to light that female weavers are making three dollars an hour less than men doing the same work. Young children also labor at the mill for very low wages. The crowd is angry.

 

 

It is unlikely that Crosswaithe will show his face, mainly because he doesn’t care. He has stated publicly that the mill is his business and he will run it as he sees fit. If the workers don’t like their wages, they are free to look elsewhere. The truth of the matter is that the mill is in financial difficulty and Crosswaithe is scrambling to keep the business operating. There is an abundance of cotton mills throughout the country driving the prices down.

Maria Desjardin decides that enough is enough and against Dominic’s wishes that she not be involved she makes phone calls and organizes rallies. It has a mild adverse effect on the business and it is the first heated conversations they have in their relationship. He agrees with her but wants her out of sight. Today she is at the forefront of the protestors. She is also the loudest.

“It’s not fair that your ladies work so hard for wages that are unequal”

The other women, Emma included, along with twelve of their friends and acquaintances and a handful of husbands are making a racket and waving hand drawn placards, demanding equal rights. Denise wanted to be there but had to work at the store, especially since Maria organized the rally and she hasn’t told Dominic. The suffragette movement has been slow to reach Moncton, but these are the same ladies that are most vocal for equality. Other woman are afraid of their husbands, or their employers or their disagreeable families to be involved publicly, some write letters of protest, others say and do nothing.  The bunch gathered are just as verbal as their leader.

“Give woman the same money as the men!”

“Tell Crosswaithe that we demand an audience!”

“How can you sleep knowing women are treated so unfairly?”

“We want some answers!”

 

The commotion is being witnessed by people on the periphery, not involved but intrigued by the uncommon sight of woman creating such a disturbance. Most of the protestors are in everyday wear but one is with elegant jacket and skirts of the latest fashion, namely Mildred Van Geist.  Van Geist is not as boisterous but her presence lends gravity to the cause. Much to her husband’s chagrin, she too has an effect on his banking business.  Men in delivery carts, people walking to work or going to the hospital up the street, are watching. Not everyone is sympathetic, especially domineering males.

 At the opposite end of the building, so too is a loose group of workers staring, lingering at the worker’s entrance, fronted by three burly men glaring at the woman with hateful glazes who are shaking their fists at them and yelling abuse. Maria shakes her fist back at them, as do others. The men take offence and advance on the crowd but are only a few steps away when the shift whistle blares calling them to work. More fist waves and the workers disappear in the side entrance while those ending their workday hustle away from the crowd, knowing what’s going on and have been warned by their supervisors to give no heed to the disruptive behaviour out front, to ignore the ideas they are spreading. The women especially are reminded of how fortunate they are to have a job.  None hang around.

From the front doors comes a portly man, tie askew, trousers bagging at the knees. Angry eyes bulge from a hairless head except for a few wisps around small ears. The mouth is almost a snarl. Behind him is two ruffians that work in the warehouse. They’re known for their quick temper and heavy lifting has made them strong. The mill manager, Wade Flanagan, is a misogynist and finds aggressive females annoying, especially this troublesome Desjardin woman that has been disrupting their peace. Stepping closely to Maria he waves for attention. The crowd quiets except for their leader. Maria has arms akimbo, a folded umbrella hanging on one arm and an unhappy expression.

“Where’s Crosswaithe?” she demands.

Flanagan flips his hand as if the idea is absurd. His voice is raspy and pompous.

 

 

 

“Mr. Crosswaithe does not have time for you troublemakers. Nor do we. I’d advise you to leave the premises at once, you are on private property. We’ve called the police as well and they should be here soon, so it’s better you go peacefully.”

Pointing his finger at Maria, his voice lowers, more spiteful. She hears him quite clearly amidst the clamour of the crowd.

“I know who you are Miss Desjardin, I’d advise you to be more careful. One can only wonder what your fiancée must think. Perhaps he should remember who buy’s his jewellery and pays for his services, certainly not these peasants you care so much about. Mr. Crosswaithe is a very big part of the financial community her in Moncton and can be influential. Do you know that word, influential, as in advising his associates to buy elsewhere? Hmm?”

Maria is about to let loose with a barrage of unkind words when a deeper voice calls for calm.

“Quiet everyone, quiet. People stop your yelling. You two in the back, un-ball those fists. Stop waving that umbrella so threateningly young lady. Mr. Flanagan, perhaps you could step back a bit and tell me what’s going on here.”

The police officer is thick chested and tall, authority and a shiny badge makes people stop their fidgeting and they close in to hear what is being said. Officer Melanson steps between Maria and Flanagan who are staring darts at each other. Maria starts to complain when Melanson holds a hand out to wait her turn. Nodding at the manager, he prompts him once more.

“What’s all the fuss about her now, Flanagan?”

Chin in the air he points at Maria.

“She’s egging this bunch of rowdies on, Officer. It’s disrupting our business and they are on private property as well. We’d like them to disperse as soon as possible. They make such foolish demands, asking for Crosswaithe of all things, as if he has time to deal with these troublemakers. I’d like it if you and your fellow officer I see over there to get this crowd moving. In fact I demand it!”

Melanson doesn’t like the manager’s attitude and knows a few of the women here. He is also aware of the unfair labor practices in the factories but he must uphold the law. Turning to Maria, he tries a half smile begging her indulgence.

“So its troublemakers you are, ladies and gents? You know we can’t have that. You’ll need to go home now. You’re holding up traffic and there are delivery carts waiting to get in and you are on someone else’s property.”

The group lower their cards and their shoulders, some starting to move on wending through a crowd of gatherers, some of which are not friendly. Maria respects the law and doesn’t want any trouble, only to be listened to. She watches Flanagan beam a smug look at the thinning assembly and she sees all the rottenness in his manner.

“You’ll not get away with this much longer Mister. The indecent way you treat your women.”

Flanagan can see that the police are moving people away and feels he has won. Only she can hear him.

“It’s better than most deserve. Humph!”

Despising him so much, she doesn’t even think. Running forward with umbrella raised, she whacks him on the head. Before Officer Melanson can contain her she’s hit him several times. One of the blows from the long stem of her weapon hit him on the nose and made it bleed. Another to the side of the head makes it on the next day’s front page of the Transcript. The flash from the photographer’s camera apparatus catches another of Maria being escorted to the police car.

Flanagan rushes into the building with his blood stained handkerchief held tightly to his nose. The two bodyguards block the entrance. Putting Maria in the back seat, the other officer drives and Melanson sits beside her, his manner abrupt, asking her questions while taking notes. What’s her name? Where does she live? Etc. They take Maria home. Since Dominic has been back, she moved in with Emma where they were going to take her but she convinces Officer Melanson that she is needed at work and he will know where she is. She promises to go directly to her aunt’s place after work. Melanson can be a soft touch sometimes for a pretty girl. Trusting her to her word he does as she asks. When they arrive, before she is allowed out of the car, she is chastised severely by Melanson for her actions, it’s possible that Flanagan may lay charges against her for assault. There’s a tinge of sympathy in his voice when he reaches over to open the other car door so she can get out.

“You’ll not able to do any protesting if you’re sitting in jail. Stay off their property. Don’t go anywhere until we tell you to. You could still be in a lot of trouble. Otherwise the day is still long, I hope the rest is more peaceful Miss Desjardins.”

Maria knows enough to keep quiet, the realization of what she’s done sinks in. She begins to worry about Dominic’s reaction. She hopes he’s outback doing repairs. Lifting her skirts to slide out, she steps carefully onto the driveway, waving over her shoulder.

“Thank you Officer.”

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you faithful reader for joining us this week. I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. I would love to hear your comments.

The Body On The Undwerwater Road by Chuck Bowie

Chuck is Back!  The First & Fourth.

I expect you've heard of the Firth of Forth, an estuary (firth) of the River Forth in Scotland, well this is the First and the Fourth for the Scribbler and Chuck Bowie.

First time for the Scribbler and the Fourth visit from Chuck Bowie of Fredericton, New Brunswick.

And Donovan's Back Too!

Chuck's fourth novel, The Body on the Underwater Road, is ready to launch on July 27th at Westminster Books in Fredericton and as a special treat for all you faithful readers Chuck is back to tells us about writing this series.

I've got my copy and it's next on my list.

Make sure you follow the links below to catch up on Chuck's previous visits.

Take it away my friend,

The Perils of Coming Home

-       Chuck Bowie, July, 2018

-       Written for The South Branch Scribbler

 

Thomas Wolfe suggests you can never go home again. As I think of that phrase, I think about those who say a river constantly changes. So, if you stick a foot in, pull it out and place it in exactly the same spot, it will be a different experience, because that previous cubic foot of water has moved on, and the sand and pebbles beneath your foot have shifted. Try visiting your childhood home, and imagine it is exactly as it was when you were seven years old. Or ten. This will not work. You have moved on. A new owner—several new owners!—have changed the old homestead in so many little ways. That vibe of nostalgia or childhood simplicity is gone, together with the plaid sofa and giant flowered wallpaper.

I am in the middle (or maybe nearing the end, I’m not sure) of writing a suspense-thriller series. I’ve finished Book 4, actually: The Body on the Underwater Road. As I mentioned, it’s a thriller so it has murder, bad guys, action, shenanigans, quite serious stuff weaving a plot designed to keep you interested and entertained.

I’ve written three other thrillers as well. The first: Three Wrongs is of the classic variety, with a detailed back story to help you understand why my contract thief is so complex. The second novel: AMACAT is somewhat lighter in tone, but with similar ‘thriller’ elements. I digress to an extent with my third novel: Steal It All, in that it is formatted a bit like a police procedural, and I stray a bit from the ‘loner with his own moral code’ approach.

But Book 4 is different, in a couple of ways.

In The Body—may I call it The Body? (I suppose I could call it TBOTUR; I do like acronyms)—I have written the bulk of the novel with scenes of New Brunswick, my home province. The opportunity cost of such a decision is I fail in my attempt to incorporate four countries in the plot setting(s). This was a conscious decision, where I wished to return home, so to speak, and write a tale set in my backyard. I wanted to show off my home province to you, Gentle Reader, who may have never got here to visit. Shame on you! by the way, for not having made this attempt.

My protagonist, Donovan, is a contract thief who travels the world, separating owners from their material goods, and he does this for great profit. It’s Robin Hood, basically, minus the messy middle element of altruism and generous heart. So, he steals from the rich, and gives to the less rich: himself. But I digress. Anyway, our man Donovan visits a charming New Brunswick seaside town in an attempt to solve a crime and coincidentally cut down on the murdering of tourists.

In hindsight, I now see The Body differs in at least two ways from the other books in the same series. As I mentioned, we visit three locales, but only two countries. I hope my readers don’t feel ripped off; in fact, I’ve had one article written where the reviewer found this reduction in exotic travel to be a tad disappointing.

The other way, though, that Book 4 differs is with fewer narrative arcs to the plot. We find a primary plot, and a secondary plot. Simple. However, what I attempted to do in this case was to analyze an extended family dynamic. In doing so, I wanted to permit the reader to peek through the curtains into someone’s family (someone very rich, in this case) and visualize what home can mean to a fractured, dysfunctional family. My little irony is I do this in my back yard.

I believe I stayed true to my character’s development as a contract thief seeking redemption. And if you, Gentle Reader, read about the Parker clan and somehow think even more highly about your own eccentric brood, well, all the better!

And now back to Mr. Thomas Wolfe. Why can you never go home again? I do not actually believe this, at least, not literally. One can certainly come home, but one cannot expect it to be the same as before. So, I bring our protagonist Donovan to New Brunswick, but somehow, the novel, while still a thriller, is…different. I became interested in how people can change, and I didn’t focus as much on all-action-all-the-time writing. (There is action; I quite like the trouble I’ve placed my characters in, especially toward the end! But I hope you can ‘see’ the towns, the beaches, the estates, the vineyard…)

I tried to add depth to the characters and their families, make them more human, make them real. In doing so, I brought you to quiet, nothing-ever-happens New Brunswick. And I made stuff happen. I hope you like it.

I’m already thinking about Book 5, where I return to lots of action, very bad people, and who knows? Maybe a theft or two. Won’t you come along for the ride?


 

An Excerpt from The Body on the Underwater Road. (Copyright held by the author. Used with permission)

Montauk

An old Ford pickup rolled down a coastline country lane skirting the North Shore of Long Island Sound, a few miles from Port Jefferson. Moonlight glanced off the remaining piece of his rear-view mirror, but the faint glow on the gray primer coat turned the truck into a ghostly image of itself. The muffler, one of the few things that worked well, burbled low and smooth, attracting little attention. The lone occupant sat behind the wheel, radio off, his left elbow outside the opened window, catching a bit of the late-night breeze.

The trucked traveled well under the speed limit, further reducing its engine’s sound to a murmur. Harry Rafuse made an abrupt turn into an almost-hidden drive without slowing, slipped the truck into neutral and coasted the remaining fifty feet. The pine branches caressed the passenger side on the way by, making a swishing sound as the Ford came to a stop near a dark building. The engine ticked as it cooled, but other than that, few sounds broke the still night air. He opened the door. His key was ready as he slid from the truck seat and then took care to bring the door to, but not closing it so as to make the latch sound, and in a moment he was inside the small storage shed.

There were no windows and Harry had the lights on as soon as the door was completely shut. He stood at a slight bend since there was no space to stand properly, peering down the tiny path through the middle of the single room. For a building with such an impoverished exterior, its contents were startling in their grandeur. The rear quarter of the compact room was packed to the rafters with scores of paintings. Beside them rested a few European cabinets and hutches, moving van blankets separating the lowers from the uppers. As he moved to the back, he brushed against wooden crates containing art pieces, mementos, statuary, and vases. Hundreds of pieces of antique jewellery rested in glass cases on shelves above the crates. Beside him, individually boxed, were unique, one-off artefacts, most of which had proven provenances, causing their value to quadruple.

“What do you think, Harry? Have we hit the seven million mark yet?” He grinned in the dim light. It would have been so much easier to unload it all in the shops of Manhattan, or in the galleries in the outlying boroughs. But these pieces were known. Known to have been stolen, known to be the trigger that would set the police dogs on him. He shook his head. I’m not going to jail because of laziness. I’ll just have to ship them off a ways, set them loose in Canada, someplace I’m not known. That would certainly change my status. I don’t think the cousins would turn their noses up at me if I coasted into their snobby driveways in a Ferrari.

 

Harry thought of an incident the other day, when a plainclothes detective knocked on his door for a chat. Did he know about the MacQuart estate having been robbed in April? Did he have any information to share regarding a ruby-and-emerald bracelet, turn of the century, crafted in India? No? Was he sure? Of course I was sure. I was sure not going to chat with you about my business. Jerk.

But that was an anomaly, a crime of opportunism. More than half of the contents of this room came from a single source. An awful grin began to twist his face. I get the goods, and the insurance money changed hands. Sure, someone lost out, but isn’t that the cost of doing business? He laid a hand on the nearest crate, the one containing the MacQuart bracelet. It calmed him to be so close to such wealth, knowing it would soon be shoring up the cupboard-is-bare Rafuse bank account. He smiled.

Some collectors love this shit. Can’t get enough of it. All Harry saw was crap that needed to be converted into greenbacks. The cop, together with the news he received from his now-ex colleague Waugh reinforced his need to leave town. The sooner he split this burg and landed in St. Andrews, the better. And that French guy. He’s going to be just the ticket to unload a big chunk of this, once I move it into Canada. He seemed hungry for business. I’ll give him the business, all right.

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you Chuck for being our featured guest this week. 

 

 

 

 

For you readers that want to learn more about Chuck and his stories, please follow the links to his website and his previous visits.

 

www.chuckbowie.ca

August 2015

November 2015

August 2016

 

Writing doesn't have to be lonely!

 

Hello Everybody!

 

 

 

 

Today's post is a re-blog from an interview that one of my guests posted on her website. Janice Spina has been a guest twice on the Scribbler and invited me to be a guest on hers - www.jemsbooks.com I wanted to share it with you this week.

 

 

 

 

Writing, they say, can be a lonely hobby (career, job, what have you) and perhaps that's so when you sit down to write, make up stories, you're all alone listening to your imagination. But the writing world is not an isolated spot. There are so many helpful authors and writer's out there that reach out to help each other and it's a wonderful feeling. I like to think that the Scribbler is such a place - a hangout for artists, authors, photographer's and creative people. We only have each other when it comes to reaching a new audience and hopefully, hopefully, readers will discover your books and stories. There have been so many helpful people that have been kind to me featuring me on their blog or website, for which I am most thankful. A few of them you might want to visit.

 

Susan Toy - www.susantoy.com

 

Chris the Reading Ape - https://thestoryreadingapeblog.com

Tina Frisco - https://tinafrisco.com

Chuck Bowie - http://www.chuckbowie.ca/

 

 

 

Interview with Author Allan Hudson!

Posted on June 27, 2018 by jjspina

ALLAN HUDSON

Please welcome author Allan Hudson to Jemsbooks Blog Author Interview Segment.

 

Thank you, Allan, for coming today. I’ll turn over the reins to you now. I’m looking forward to learning more about you.

 

 

Thank you, Janice, for having me as a guest on your popular blog. It’s great to be here.

 

 

1. Please tell us something about yourself.

I live on the east coast of Canada, in the province of New Brunswick. I’m married to a terrific lady and her name is Gloria. I’m a father, step-father and a grampy and I don’t think I could be happier. I’ve had two careers in my lifetime being involved in the jewelry business for many years as a sales representative and I’m also a carpenter. At present I work at both. Self-employed, building and repairing things during the first days of the week and I work part-time at Peoples Jewelers. I’m getting close to retirement and am looking forward to having more time to write.

Jspina: You certainly are creative, Allan – working in jewelry and a carpenter! I’m impressed.

2. When did you know that you wanted to be an author?

I’ve always been an avid reader as I think all authors are. I can’t remember a specific time when I thought I might like to write my own stories until I saw an ad for a creative writing course. I attended this course and knew then that writing was something I wanted to do. However, I didn’t get started until I was 56. One of my favorite authors, Bryce Courtenay, started writing when he was in his fifties. I was inspired by his testimony that it was never too late. A prod from my wife one time when I was talking about writing got me started.  Can’t remember her exact words, but it was something along the line that I talked about it enough and I should just sit down and do it. I haven’t stopped since.

Jspina: It’s nice to have such a supportive spouse. 

3. What process do you need in order to write?

I prefer early mornings and no distractions. I have a spot in my garage set up with my laptop, coffee perc, scratch pad and notes where I get most of my writing done in the warmer weather. When the cold starts setting in, I work in my house where we have a work station for our computer.

Jspina: Whatever works for your muse – go with it.

4. How do you come up with ideas for your stories?

That’s always a tough question even though I have many things I’d like to write about. Looking back at what I’ve written, many ideas come from places and subjects I read about, either in other novels or magazines. For example, in my last novel, Wall of War, I read about the Incas and Peru and was captivated. I knew when I started that the story would have some of both. Sometimes the ideas come from my own surroundings, from people I know or observe, from my work.
(photo credit - Steve Halama - Unsplash)

Jspina: Sounds fascinating, Allan. 

5. What projects are you currently working on?

I’m three quarters of the way through my third novel which is different from the first two in that it is historical fiction, rather than an action/adventure novel. It begins in 1911 with the grandfather of my main character from the first two novels. I am trying a different format from the historical fiction novels I’ve read. The novel will cover one decade, 1911 – 1920 in the life of Dominic Alexander. Rather than chapters, the book will be divided in years and what the highlights of each year are. I’m thrilled how it’s taking shape. My hope is for a series of decades in each novel (long-term planning). I’ve also outlined the third Drake Alexander Adventure.

Jspina: It’s nice to mix things up a little.

6. What hobbies do you have when you are not writing?

Writing has become hobby number one. I’m a stained glass artisan and upon retirement, I hope to incorporate my love of woodworking and stained glass into projects when not writing. (photo credit - Stephanie Krist - Unsplash)

Jspina: Now, that is quite a talent to be able to do so many things.

7. What advice would you give prospective authors?

Looking back at when I started writing, I knew nothing of publishing and marketing. I was completely overwhelmed at what the Internet has to offer in the way of help, publishers, scams, advice, get rich schemes, etc. I would recommend being leery of many things a new writer will be exposed to and to befriend other authors and gain from their experience. I also suggest joining a writing association and/or a writer’s group.  These folks will offer wonderful help and all have been down the same road so they can answer many questions and help with your writing. Most of all, keep writing as often as you can.

Jspina: Yes, I agree, Allan. It can be daunting. But with all the wonderful fellow authors out there to lend a hand, we can succeed.

8. If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?

If I could, I would take three months and visit the places I’ve written about, Bangladesh, Peru, Scotland and Mongolia. I’ve always been intrigued by these destinations and would love to visit them. (photo credit - John Salzarulo - Unsplash)

Jspina: I hope you get the chance to see all these wonderful places one day.

9. If you could have one wish, what would it be?

I suppose I should wish for something unselfish, like world peace or a cure for cancer which would be the top of my list. But if I could have a personal wish, it would be a book contract. To write for a living would be my ultimate pleasure.

Jspina: Hear, Hear! I guess all authors want the same thing.

10.What would you do if you were not a writer?
Exactly what I’m doing. I enjoy building things. I love serving people with their jewelry decisions because it’s all about love.

Jspina: Keep doing all these things you love and be happy and content in your life, Allan.

11. Please share your books with us and a synopsis of each.

Dark Side of a Promise is the first Drake Alexander Adventure.

It’s been three years since Amber Payne died. The man responsible has not been held accountable. They know who he is but no one knows where he`s hiding. Law enforcement have been unsuccessful in their pursuit and have basically given up. Her brother, Williston Payne, turns to his best friend Drake Alexander, an ex-Canadian Commando, to find the man and bring him in…or kill him.
Both Alexander and Payne have the money, the time and the people. They only need his whereabouts. Payne digs deep and with his contacts, Bartolo Rizzato, the man they seek, has been seen in Bangladesh, the most unlikely of countries they anticipated he would surface from.
The men lead a group of staunch ex-soldiers, a lusty French expatriate and a stalwart Bengali cop through the streets and rivers of Dhaka in the chase of their quarry only to discover crimes more terrible in their objectives. The only link connecting the trail of victims is a disturbing mark left on the torsos, the same as found on Amber Payne.


Wall of War is the second Drake Alexander Adventure.

Deep in the wilderness of the Peruvian Andes lies a monument hidden for centuries. Who were the builders? Why was it abandoned? What secrets does it reveal?
In 1953, an amateur rock climber makes a startling discovery. Overwhelmed by the choices he must make, the mountaineer completes his ascent deciding he will document his findings and present them to his superiors as soon as possible. It will take another fifty years before anyone reads what he wrote.
In 2004 news of the strange revelation reaches Drake Alexander. He will become involved whether he likes it or not. People very dear to him are plunged into a nightmare of avarice, impairment and death. Using all his skills as an ex-soldier, with accomplices he can trust, can he save his tormented friends from the raiders that thirst for the secret that lies within the mountains?


Allan’s novels are available on Amazon as an e-book or hard copy.
Here are the links to Allan’s books and social media.

Wall of War  –   amazon.ca   https://tinyurl.com/y98lppwr

                          amazon.com  https://tinyurl.com/ya2mfw5t

 

 

Dark Side of a Promise – this book is not available at present – undergoing new cover - soon!

Blog – www.southbranchscribbler.com

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/southbranchscribbler/?ref=settings

Twitter –  https://twitter.com/hudson_allan

Google+ –  https://plus.google.com/u/0/+allanhudson1953

 

 

Thank you, Allan, for coming today. It was a pleasure to get to know you and your books better. I wish you all the best with all your future endeavors and travels.

Thank you, readers, for stopping by to read about another talented author. Please check out Allan Hudson’s books on above links and don’t forget to show an author some love by leaving a review.


REMEMBER: READING GIVES YOU WINGS TO FLY! SOAR WITH JEMSBOOKS.COM ALL YEAR THROUGH! HAPPY READING! READING IS GOOD FOR YOUR HEALTH!
Blessings & Hugs,
Janice

 

Jeff’s Musical Car with Jeff Boudreau.

Something Different this week!

 

I stumbled upon this interesting and original website recently while searching for music from local musician Josee Mills. Jeff  has a unique concept for introducing musical talent. Simply put, he drives them around in his vehicle, recording and taping them while they talk and play music.  He manages a YouTube channel which showcases his guests. He is kind enough to share some information in a 4Q Interview. Read on.

 

 

Click on the links between the questions and see for yourself!

 

 

 

 

4Q: Where did this ingenious idea come from Jeff?

 

JB: Working in television business for over 15 years, I have always been fascinated with video and TV production. When GoPro cameras first came out, I knew I wanted to have one. I mounted one in the front of my car one day to use it as a dashcam in hopes of capturing something spectacular on the road. One day, I was driving around with my son and he was singing along to a Ramones song I was listening to so I decided to turn my camera facing the car’s interior. Once I took a look at the footage, I decided to take it a step further and invited one of my long-time friends Crystal Kirk for what would become the first ever Jeff’s Musical Car video. The rest is history~

 

**Musician Josee Mills

https://youtu.be/PPqKcNaSjI0

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4Q: When did you start doing this and how often do you post to YouTube or your website?

 

JB: I just celebrated my 5 year anniversary in November of 2017. I have released over 300 videos as of today and I release a new episode every Sunday evening.

 

 

**Musician Sass Jordan

 

https://youtu.be/Ll2RXzNJFqw

 

 

 

 

 

4Q: Share a childhood memory or anecdote with us.

 

JB: Music has been a passion for me for as long as I can remember. I used to get a weekly allowance as a young teenager and as soon as I had money, I would head straight to the local record store in Bathurst to buy 2 CDs. I couldn’t get enough!

**Musician Natalie MacMaster

https://youtu.be/FwiPz0O3954

 

 

 

 

 

 

4Q: How do you line up your musicians with everyone’s different schedules and do you always take the same route?

 

JB: When I first started my series, I did all the bookings. Now that I’m gaining popularity thanks to social media video shares etc, I often have artists contacting me. As for the route, I usually take Main Street in Moncton because it’s slow moving and there aren’t a lot of potholes.

 

 

 

**Musician Jesse Cook

https://youtu.be/pW42bkDRDAg

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you Jeff for being our guest this week and  telling us about Jeff’s Musical Car.

 

 

  

For those of you that want to listen to some very good music in an original setting, or check out a band before you buy the music, then drop by at these links.

 

www.facebook.com/jeffsmusicalcar

 

 

This note is from Jeff's FaceBook page:

I'm closing in on half a million views between all of my videos! It's been a while since I said hello and thanks but I really do appreciate the support I get from everyone. Every video share, video like, Facebook page invite helps me tremendously. It's getting easier for me to spark up conversations with big label bands and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. I also hope this series continues to spark interest in supporting your local music scenes and introducing you to new music. Thanks!

@jeffsmusicalcar (twitter and Instagram)