Showing posts with label los angeles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label los angeles. Show all posts

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Memories of Bakery Bleu

By Lisa Maliga, copyright 2015
Consolidating my archived emails, I came across some that were labeled Bakery Bleu. Ah yes, the first bakery I ever worked at, the one described in my novel, Notes from Nadir. The one where I met Gordon, the owner and baker. A quick Google search revealed that things had changed since that interview back on a beautiful warm and sunny April day. No longer was the bakery there—it had vanished. 
Here’s an excerpt from Chapter 19 ~ The Boss of Bakery Bleu
Upon entering the bakery, I noticed a bin of unwrapped baguettes on the counter. I saw a variety of rolls and sweet rolls on the shelves, and behind the man who stood at the counter, were rows of different kinds of breads.
I met Gordon, a tall auburn haired man bordering on pudginess. He wore a navy polo shirt with the golden-brown Bakery Bleu logo [a pair of crossed breadsticks] above one of his manboobs. He shook my hand and sat down across from me so he could see both me and all the baked goodies to the north.
“Do tell me about yourself,” he said in a hearty voice. His accent wasn’t local, that’s for sure. He sounded English. Of course, I didn’t think he wanted to know about my personal history but about how valuable I’d be as a minimum wage slave, I mean, employee. I smiled, and for once, I wasn’t unhappy about sitting across from the man even though he could only offer a part time job. I pulled out a pale blue resume and handed it to him. He nodded and looked at it. I knew he was probably surprised when he saw the word Dreamweaver on the bottom where I listed a few web related things.
“You had your own business,” he studied that piece of paper atop the black table. “You lived in Los Angeles…what’re you doing here?”
Much as I want to, I couldn’t avoid that question. The man was scrutinizing me now. I looked at his dark eyes, then down at the table. “Cheap rent. I live with my mom.”
He had a genuine, hearty laugh. It sounded so wonderful after not hearing much of it that year. And I laughed out loud myself. It was true, that cliché about laughter being healthy.
“I did too when I first moved here from London.”
“Not London, Kentucky?”
He smiled broadly and I was feeling more comfortable with this man I had just met. “England.” He replied, though I knew the answer and he knew I knew that he was from across the pond.
“The people are so boring here,” I said. Oops, not the kind of thing to say in a job interview, especially as I was applying for a job where I’d be waiting on those boring people. But this didn’t really feel like one. “I didn’t say that,” I said.
He leaned forward a bit, covered his ears and replied, “I didn’t hear that!”
God, we were like teenagers on a first date.
He began speaking of the duties. The first date was over; it was a real job interview. He went over them: waiting on customers, taking calls, helping out with orders, mopping up… “It’s not General Motors,” he said. “We’ve all got to pull together.”
Like team spirit? I thought, but left that unsaid.
He complained about how slow business was. And the customers’ taste in bread. “The baguettes are too hard!” he mocked, using a higher pitched voice. He shook his head and in his sexily deep voice said, “I lived in France for eight years. A baguette is CRISP. Here they think it’s burned. I offered to sell them dough if they want soft baguettes.”
I chuckled at that image.
“Look, I only have one important question for you…” he paused with the drama of a stage actor.
Hmm, this was getting interesting. 
To read more, click NOTES FROM NADIR.
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Friday, October 24, 2014

"Notes from Nadir" 4 Years Later

On October 21, 2010, the first eBook edition of Notes from Nadir was published on Kindle. Written as a series of blogs, Notes from Nadir made its online debut on March 3, 2010. My blog gradually began to attract readers. They seemed interested in reading the forthcoming novel that Notes from Nadir would later become.

Last year I published the second edition of “Notes” and even with a book tour, sales and reviews weren’t happening. The problem may be the title – nadir isn’t a common word. So, if you’re curious, and haven’t already gone to Dictionary.com to check it out, here’s the official description along with a hint about what Notes from Nadir is all about.

If noon is zenith then nadir is 6:30. And it was 6:29 and counting down. Way down. Merriam-Webster defines it as: "The lowest point." Nadir – it was the place where I was inevitably going. Lots of stuff got me headed in that downward direction. Decisions made too late. Unmade calls. Calls made that weren't answered. Missed connections. Being at the right place at the wrong time. Excuses. I was caught in the web of my own cause and effect and the resulting karma was ripening. Ripening of karma meant that payment was due pronto. And who paid for my own karma? Me. No checks accepted. No credit cards. And there sure as heck weren't any I.O.U's.

Only one place left to go. Back east. Back to a place I no longer called home. Back to a mom I hadn't lived with or seen in many years. She had a new house in a quiet semi-retirement community. She had a spare room. Two-car garage. Free internet. And a few conditions…

Chapter 5 – Arriving in Nadir

In the morning, I awoke before sunup, knowing that it was my last day on the road. I didn't want to hang around a motel room when I still had a few hundred miles to go. Soon I'd cross the Mississippi River and be in another state. I'd see things that hadn't been seen in years: Hardee's, Sunoco, Steak 'n Shake, and White Castle.
Driving into the rising sun. Crossing into a state that had a top speed of 65. I saw more snow. When I was partially through the state, I stopped and got gas. It was definitely colder and I stepped over some snow to get to the pump. Being almost "home" was starting to suck.
The end stretch of the 2,000-mile journey led through flatlands and farmlands with intermittent groves of trees to eradicate the geographical monotony. How dull and colorless compared to the dramatic scenery of Arizona and New Mexico. Those miles rolled by as I reluctantly headed east to a "home" I had never seen since Mom moved to her one-story dwelling eight years ago.
The miles vanished. My arrival was imminent. I glanced at traffic heading west and recalled how it was when I was driving in that direction—full of hope. Now, I was full of despair, full of failure. Each mile led me closer to the "cornfield with lights" as my father, who had escaped before me, referred to it.
I changed to a smaller two-lane road that would lead me to within a mile of Mom's new house. I had long ago memorized her address and she'd told me which streets to take and how easy it was to find. The new subdivision was called Hampton Lake and it was for older people. She'd sent me some pictures of her house and it was as generic as any modern one-story frame house with neutral colors and a few windows offset by some shrubbery and trees. Passed a place where I used to work and saw it had been replaced with a mart type store. Couldn't help noticing the traffic signals were the old fashioned kind that were strung on wires rather than posts that extended across the intersection like they did in L.A.
I took a wrong turn and had to go another mile in some suburban/country area before I found the right street. I drove slower than normal until I saw the large wooden Hampton Lake sign. Next to it was an American flag. As I drove to the end of the cul de sac I had reached the End Point of my journey.

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/35983

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Notes from Nadir ~ Manic Monday Excerpt

By Lisa Maliga
Copyright 2013



eBook cover
It’s 2009. Lisa Hansen is impacted by the great recession and can’t focus on her writing career. She has to make the tough decision to stay in Los Angeles or return to her former Midwestern home. Not having seen her mother in over a decade, she moves back in with her in a suburban semi-retirement community. Confronted with long forgotten memories, Lisa finds it difficult to adjust to life in Nadir. She works a couple of dead end jobs, and meets Gordon, a sexy British bakery owner. An opportunity to freelance for him and work as a writer/photographer at The Factory ensures a better income. But how long will she be confined in a lifestyle that she has long outgrown? “Notes from Nadir” is an alternatively poignant and amusing story of life’s unforeseen journeys, sorrows, and rewards.

Where is Nadir?
Merriam-Webster defines nadir as "the lowest point." And that is where Nadir is located. It’s not a place that is found on any map. No GPS will guide anyone there. Nadir is a state of mind.


Notes from Nadir is approx. 88,000 words/292 pages. The release date is Tuesday, November 5, 2013. Both eBook and paperback versions will be available on or around that date.

Chapter 47 ~ Manic Monday

[This is a brief excerpt from the chapter].

Right before lunch one of the Packers came over and announced: "Bakery donuts downstairs in the warehouse … main door!"
On a Monday? Rita smiled and turned to me, "That's great! They sometimes donate donuts from the bakery down the street. It's really a great place…" she got up and was heading for the stairs a lot faster than I'd seen her move since I began working there.
I followed her; I could walk faster than her as I didn't wear a size 18. I knew her size because she saw a pair of large black pants on my cart and said they'd fit her and placed a bid on them. She didn't win them as some other fatso from Nebraska did.
Near the main door I saw a big flimsy pink cardboard box on top of a dilapidated table. It was surrounded by red shirted employees.
Most of the warehouse employees didn't wear gloves. They spent the day handling pee-stained rugs and bedding, cast off toys and games, old electronics, mildewed books, filthy furniture with chewed up legs and torn upholstery; all manner of junk. And they were pawing through the donut selection. Not a napkin or paper towel in sight. But that didn't stop Rita or any of the other workers. A toothless worker wearing a faded, almost pink shirt decorated with holes, licked his fingers. Free food, free dessert, and free germs!
Paperback link




Saturday, March 13, 2010

DAY 1 - Feb. 2009 – L.A. to Prescott, Arizona [1]

[Part 1]


Leaving on the 10 eastbound. Beautiful SoCA weather,70s and sunny and even soaring up to the lower 80s in the valley. I take the usual 31-mile trip to West Covina, making a detour to fund my trip at an ATM. Afterwards; I drive to the dharma center, heading back west several blocks. I’d been going there ever since the summer of 1999. So many times I’d driven that familiar route in rain, good days, nights, even the earliest of mornings so that I could see my teacher or take a class from him. But on that summerlike February day I drove up to the quiet center on a weekday morning only to see it was unusually quiet. The students were at work. The teachers weren’t there, not even in the shrine room. I’d never been there alone before, with not even a student monk present. I’m surprised, and disappointed. 



Before leaving, I take a few pictures, those of the colorful flapping prayer flags flying in the soft breeze to the snow covered Mount Baldy looming in the distance. I shiver inwardly, thinking that the stuff on the mountain would be seen on the ground where I’m heading…



I’d never felt so reluctant to begin a journey. I just wanted to spend the next several hours hanging out in my favorite quiet place. My teacher was in India for the next few weeks, but even that didn’t matter. His vibes were there.

When I left, I drove slowly down the street and towards the freeway. Had to get gas. Could’ve stopped off anywhere down the 10 but I was hanging out in the San Gabriel Valley area. Just absorbing the sunshine and smog and SoCA a little longer.

I was leaving it all behind. Well, most of it in a multi-level storage facility near Hollywood. The rest was deposited on the sidewalk and part of the driveway for the general public to gather up. Large objects: table and chairs, bookcases, a stereo and black modular plywood cabinet from 1995 that took a week to assemble. Old music in cassette tape format. Lots of years in the same apartment and only empty rooms remained.

In my Mustang were the most precious remnants of my memories: books, writings, clothes and laptop. I’d even left my 2 beloved pairs of ice skates in the locker as I was so limited in square footage. ‘Stangs weren’t known as moving vans.

About 100 miles away from the City of Angels, on an uncrowded 10 freeway I saw my first sign of change. The speed limit sign had 2 new numbers: 70. I stomped my foot down harder on the accelerator, wondering when that happy change had transpired.

Driving southeast, in the desert and heading for more and more of it. Around me were palm trees sprouting from the dirt and always in the distance were the beckoning mountains.

This is an excerpt from the novel, NOTES FROM NADIR. Available at Amazon and other online bookstores..

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