2009 Broaddus Family Christmas Party

With the second novel of my Knights of Breton Court series done (finished about 12 hours before this picture was taken) and the contents for the Dark Faith anthology set, the Broaddus family turns its attentions to entering the Christmas season with our tenth annual themed Christmas party. They started out as murder mystery dinners but quickly got too large. This year’s theme was “Musicals” though we were very generous about what was considered a musical. Any excuse to celebrate with our friends/family.

Your hosts

With lips (and yes, for those following along on my Twitter, I finally got the lips removed from my head)

Dueling Sweeney Todds

best male and best female costume winners

You can check out the full gallery on my facebook (or view even more shots at my wife’s facebook account). One more time though, our very strange family. We wouldn’t have them any other way:

Winners and Losers

I was trying to explain to my wife why I was sitting at my table with my ten sided dice that I wasn’t rolling imaginary D&D; characters (which REALLY would have been the sign of a problem), but rather I was randomly picking the winners for my book giveaway contest.
Without further ado, the winners are:


Because I am prone to making up rules as I go along, I decided on some second place packages:

-Meljprincess will be getting a copy of Heretic’s Daughter
-Gaby317 will be getting a copy of Boneman’s Daughter

Not that anyone asked, I randomly selected three people to receive copies of the latest anthology from Apex Publications, Harlan County Horrors, which features my story “Trouble Among the Yearlings”. And those lucky recipients are:

-Amanda Parrish

I will be dropping them an e-mail to collect their addresses and get them their books. Speaking of winners, here are my sons Reese and Malcolm in their Halloween costumes:

(with this comment from a friend: “If Reese couldn’t make it as a writer, he could have dressed as an editor.”)

As for the losers, those would include all of the folks who are still sending in stories for the Dark Faith anthology. I’m afraid those are being deleted unread. Also in the loser category, me for MY Halloween costume. I tweeted “In light of my novel, I’m dressing up for a super hero party as Kevin Matchstick (Mage). I’m betting only one other person will get it.”

See? I was on it! Unfortunately, it later led to this tweet: “”Maybe being a black guy w/ a baseball bat on the south side of Indy wasn’t my best call… officer.” #obscuresuperherocostumefail”

I should have gone more mainstream.

Life in the Broaddus Creative Mind

When I was in second grade, my teacher (Ms. Rainey) didn’t know what to do with me. I wasn’t exactly a bad or troublesome student, but I was the only black student in my class and obviously bored. Ms. Rainey had an overloaded class and had her hands full catching kids up to the current curriculum in class much less deal with students who were ahead of the curve. So she put me in a corner with a stack of paper and told me to just “create whatever appealed to” me. So I wrote, drew, created little books and just let my imagination and creativity run wild.

[As opposed to my brother, who was also bored, but his teacher—who shall remain nameless—had low to no expectations of blacks, males in particular, and all but said so. So through neglect, she stripped away any interest he had in school that he’s only regained as an adult.]

I was reminded about the state of my desk as I wandered into the room of my eldest son, Reese. He has his own desk in there, surrounded by books and stacks of paper. Within easy reach were trays of markers, pens, pencils, crayons, beads, and clips – things he’d need at fingertip access to in order to create at a moment’s notice. Everything was collected and separated by sandwich bags (which reminded me of the shelf of cereal boxes I used to use as my filing cabinets for all of my projects and “research” when I got home). All about were half-finished projects and preparation for new projects amidst the organized chaos that is a creative mind.

I had entered the forbidden zone since I had to clean it because when I’m in MY creative throes, I am compelled to clean and organize. No worries, I preserved the order and condensed it to his desk, getting rid of only the trash and toys and cups that tend to accumulate during … creative bursts.

Just something I wanted to note. On the flip side, we spent the evening trying to convince my youngest son that “Cock” was not the best way to shorten the name for his pet rock, “Cock-A-Doodle”. Of course, I suppose that I probably ought to be more disconcerted by him talking to and petting a rock …

Broaddus Family Tradition Continues

Summer 1978. Franklin, Indiana. My childhood friend, Richard Jordan, and I were the fastest kids among our friends. We had a long standing debate about who was the fastest between us. Watching this display of would be alpha male preening was my father. It was late in the afternoon, he stood on the porch in one of his “ready to go out” outfits, dressed to the nines, pimp shoes in full effect chuckling over us.

“I used to be pretty fast in my day,” he said.

“Yeah, right.” We didn’t mean to sound as dismissive as we were. Well, maybe we did. We were all of 7 and 8, masters of the playground. My dad was old. Big, as in 250+ pounds big. Taller than both me and Richard stacked atop each other. Smoking his cigarette, drinking his “warm up” drink. Obviously, there was only one way we could settle this.

“You want to race us?”

“I guess I could give it a shot.” My dad walked the length of the brick paved road (it was the last brick paved road in the city. To this day, there remains a small strip of the street that is brick-paved to remind everyone of how the street used to be). He set his drink and his cigarette at the finish line and walked back to us.

By now my brother and some of our friends gathered on our front porch to watch. Me and Richard grinned broadly at one another, all but high fiving ourselves in anticipation.

“Someone want to count it off?” my dad asked.

Our friend Missy shouted from the porch. “Ready, set, … go!”

Richard and I were fast. Richard and I both went on to have some pretty good track and field careers through junior and high school.

My dad, in his slick dress shoes, reached the finish line and had time to take a drag from his cigarette and a swig from his glass before we crossed the line. He didn’t say anything. Just walked back to the porch, our friends parting for him in awed silence, as he went back into the house. He never did mention that he still held all of the track and field (as well as many of the football and basketball) records in Franklin High School.

Summer 2009. Indianapolis, Indiana. My boys Reese and Malcolm were running in the gym in the Harrison Center during one of our First Friday tours. They asked me if I could race with them. So I set down my “warm up” drink (it was wine and champagne night along the First Fridays tour), and …

So we can add this to the list of Broaddus Family traditions (okay, I’ll admit, I was trying to grab my drink in mid-leap). What scares me is wondering if my dad wasn’t running at full tilt either.

Police – by Reese Broaddus

So my oldest son, Maurice Gerald Broaddus II (Reese), has decided to try his hand at writing a story (this AFTER my two boys getting me to write a story about them). Anyway, I warned him that if I put it on my blog, it would be considered published and he wouldn’t be able to sell first rights down the road. He told me he’d do a re-write and change the title, for now he just wants the exposure. Young writers.

Ah, good times … I remember my first story. Looking over Reese’s story, maybe we should back away from watching so many Law & Order reruns.

ReeseAbout the author:

At seven years old, Reese Broaddus is in second grade. He’s been declared the new master of suspense (I explained to him that many new writers like to make extravagant claims about themselves with no track record to back them up. His response: “what’s suspense?”). He once had a thing for Maurila, but now a young lady named Rachel is the love of his life (which I’m not allowed to write about in my blog). He lives at home with his parents and brother (I also explained that many authors tend to include their pets. He informed me that since we no longer have Midnight, his brother would have to do). He doesn’t eat paste (I wish that all the professional writers I knew could claim that).

Prison (A Work in Progress)

Chapter 1 – Jail

One day there was a crime at Main Street. Tim robbed the Bank. He took $21,680. Tim went to jail for Thirty weeks. Tim’s wife Broke up with him, Tim was not that mad. Tim was more mad at the Police.

Twenty weeks later Tim’s son turned two years old. Tim was so happy he yelled and was jumping up and down, his face turned red. Tim got in trouble for yelling.

Ten weeks later Tim went to court. Tim’s ex-wife was there. He was so scared because his mom was also there. Tim’s mom was not that happy with Tim.

Tim was found guilty at court. Tim had to stay in Jail one more week. Then his dad came to visit him. Tim got in trouble by his dad.

Chapter 2 – Money

One day it was Pay Day. Tim dropped his money, another man stole his wallet with all of Tim’s money.

Tim was so upset he threw a fit. Tim called 911 and said someone took his wallet. “Someone’s a thief and snatched my wallet and walked away,” Tim said angrily.

Chapter 3 – Not at Jail

Tim was at his own home again. He was glad because he was not at jail. He did not want to find a girlfriend, but one day Tim found a girlfriend her name was Abigail. They are getting married in 20 months. Tim is going to get a job. Tim wants to have six kids.