Jennifer Lawrence, Nude Photos, iClouds and Football

Unless you've been living under a rock the last 24 hours,  you've no doubt heard the news that several actresses have had photos of themselves in various states of undressed stolen through and iCloud leak or faked to be included in the popularity of those stolen images. The hacking of someone's account, simply because of their fame, is disgusting. It pains me personally, because as silly as it sounds, I feel a kinship to Jennifer Lawrence.

No, I don't know her personally, nor am I a stalker. I am a writer. My third book in my Walkers Ridge romance series is in progress and the heroine is Jessa Waters. In my mind, Jessa Waters is Jennifer Lawrence...or I should say Jennifer Lawrence is Jessa Waters. Having lived with Jessa Waters in my head for a long time, clamoring to have her story told, this feels very personal to me.

When I write, I often pick a person to picture in my mind when I write a specific person. The reason is simple. It helps me keep that character true to one personality. Jennifer Lawrence has a cadence to her voice that creates an image (for me) of the girl next door. A kind, compassionate person who I would be friends with and enjoy hanging around with. Since that's the type of personality I want Jessa Waters to have, it makes sense for me to keep Jennifer Lawrence in mind when I write Jessa Waters.

My heart goes out to all of the women who have had personal and private information stolen from their personal iCloud or faked through image manipulation and released to the public simply because of their careers. It's disgusting to recognize that we really haven't come all that far from the whole caveman dragging a woman around by her hair mentality. The blaming of the women for having images on their private devices has been a common response. I'm not going to address what someone else should or should not do. In my opinion, that's not my business. What I will address is this. Someone hacked into information that does not belong to them and released it publicly with the intent of gaining money and fame, and to shame and embarrass people they do not even know. Why, I wonder, is there no backlash against the one who committed the crime? Really, does the content of what was stolen matter? The theft itself isn't enough? Now we have to justify our own right to have what was stolen? When does the blaming the victims stop? Will it stop?

And speaking of dragging women around by their hair, what in God's name is up with football players and the NFL? Five days ago, Cleveland Brown's receiver Josh Gordon was suspended for a year for smoking marijuana while Baltimore Ravens running back Ray Rice was given a two game suspension and fined an additional game paycheck for beating his wife unconscious and dragging her out of an elevator by her hair. Am I the only person who's totally disgusted by this bizarre and unbalanced punishment of those who break various NFL rules? I mean, come on. A full year for getting high on a substance that's legal in many places and two games and a fine for something so incredibly violent? This seems to be the exact opposite of what it should be.
And while NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell now admits Ray's punishment is not severe enough, he will not increase the penalty, either. That makes it worse for me, somehow. That the man with the power to correct this situation publically acknowledges that he got all wrong but refuses to fix it, anyway. How is that okay and where is the outrage from players and fans? Because I'll tell you the truth, I don't se any outrage.

I had an entire series of books planned around football players but I've scrapped it. The idea is just so distasteful now, that I've scrapped a year's worth of research, notes, outlines, and plans. I'll start over and I'm happy to do so.

The takeaway here? If you smoke pot, you're out for a year but if you beat the crap out of a woman, you get a slap on the hand. Never mind that pot is legal in many states and beating another human being is illegal in all states. Never mind the video showing Rice pulling the unconscious victim out of the elevator by her hair. Never mind that even the
Commissioner himself admits this is wrong. Just ignore all of that. It's the Boys of Fall, after all. Tradition and money and bonfires and money and tailgating and money and booze and money and...you get the idea. If you don't think Ray Rice and the NFL aren't benefiting from all this publicity, I've got some ocean front property in Iowa for sale. We should talk.



 

This Montana Man hero, Jamie Overton is heating things up with Caroline!

Wednesdays With Walkers Ridge - Melissa Overton

Wednesdays With Walkers Ridge

Melissa Overton is the teen aged sister of Jamie, the sheriff in Walker’s Ridge. She is in high school and hoping to break out of her small town and go to college in the biggest city she can find. She works at a local shop after school and is very active on the ranch and with her friends. Watch as Melissa finds romance at school.

 

Melissa Overton

You won’t believe what happened to me at school today. I was getting my stuff out of my locker and Collin Randolph walked by and in a teasing kind of way, he closed my locker. I think my jaw hit the floor. He looked over his shoulder, grinning and he winked at me. He WINKED at me. ME! I think I about passed out.

Karlee Smith was with me and she did that low whistle thing that she does and said, “Collin Randolph noticed you.”

I was like, “I know, right?”

I totally tried to play it cool but I think I had this stupid grin on my face all day. We don’t share any classes so I didn’t see him the rest of the day. I kinda tried to watch for him in the halls but without making it obvious that I was watching for him, you know what I mean? But I didn’t see him.

Karlee kept asking me if I saw him and I think she was almost as disappointed as I was when I told her no after almost every class. Except trig, of course, because we’re in the same trig class so she knew he hadn’t talked to me.

I’m so going to spent two hours figuring out what to wear to school tomorrow. Today I wore skinny jeans tucked into my black boots and my black sweater…the one with the buttons on the sleeves…but I don’t want to wear black again tomorrow. I can wear skinny jeans and boots every day, but not sweaters and not black every day. B O R I N G.

Maybe I should go shopping for new clothes. And boots. Obviously boots. But maybe some cute tops that don’t smell like horses. Maybe I should get highlights. Or a trim. I’ll ask Harmony what she thinks when I go to work tomorrow. She has such good taste. She’s got great jewelry in the shop, too. I can look for some cute earrings. If I wear my hair right, the earrings will show. In that case, they need to be sparkly earrings. Sparkly is always good.  

Right now, I need to haul butt and get my chores done. A couple of the horses need exercised today and I have a ton of homework. I sure hope Karlee’s home tonight because I’m so gonna need help with my trig homework. 

Later Gator,
Melissa

Wednesdays With Walkers Ridge Elizabeth Overton

Wednesdays With Walkers Ridge

Miss Elizabeth is a strong woman. After the death of her husband Jim, she poured herself into the raising of Jamie and Melissa, running the ranch and her volunteer work at the church. Now Jamie is grown, the sheriff of Walkers Ridge and a family man. Melissa is 17 years old, doing well in school and looking forward to college in a big city. The ranch is a well-oiled machine that runs well under the supervision of Jamie and ranch manager, Juan Trujillo. What will Elizabeth do with herself as her role in life changes? Read her blog below to learn how she is handling this transition.

Elizabeth Overton

Well, it’s happening. Jamie moved into the farmhouse with Caroline and they’re raising JT. How on earth did I become a grandma? Jamie is moving forward with the adoption proceedings and they’re both loving having their baby boy home.

I’m trying to respect their privacy and not drop in every day to play with JT, but it’s difficult to resist. I’ll tell you a secret. Sometimes I don’t even make the attempt. Sometimes I just march right over and knock on the door.

Thankfully, Caroline has been nothing but loving and gracious. She’s worked miracles around here. She’s restored the farmhouse to the state it was in when my mother was alive, she’s showcased some of my mother’s prized quilts, she’s softened Jamie in a way I didn’t know what possible…the girl is a Godsend.

 Melissa is finishing her junior year of high school in a few months. We’re planning senior pictures, she’s hard at work with plans for her graduation party…I believe everyone in Walkers Ridge will be invited…and she’s mapping out an itinerary for college campus visits that will likely take months. There isn’t a single college campus on her list that isn’t listed in a major metropolis.

I tried to get her to at least visit some of the more local colleges but she wouldn’t have it. Montana State University has excellent research and science programs, including horticultural and biotechnology, which is where her strengths are. The University of Montana has terrific research facilities as well, and she could study environmental science and law or journalism. She swears she wants to live in the big city and get away from the ranch even if she does want to study agriculture, horticulture or the environmental sciences. I think I will ultimately lose this battle.

Regardless of where she decides to attend college, the fact is I’m turning into an empty-nester. I didn’t anticipate this part of life, at least not yet. A year ago, Jamie was still at home and not even involved with anyone, let alone a family man with a newborn son. Melissa was a silly teen enjoying the company of horses and her girlfriends more than anything else. Now Jamie has moved out and Melissa is planning to do the same as soon as possible. Where does that leave me, I wonder?

 Sometimes I think about the days when Jim and I were starting out. We married in 1984 and immediately began working toward our dream of a large ranch. We spent every penny we could on buying land. We started with such a tiny little lot adjacent to Mom’s farmhouse. Initially, we didn’t even have a house. We bought a little mobile home and lived in it for two years. The plan was to build a house but when my mother became ill, it just made more sense for us to move in and help take care of her. We spent everything we could save on buying more and more land, always adjacent to our existing lots until eventually, we had several hundred acres. We built the original house after Mom moved to the nursing home. It’s odd to think about it  but in reality, Jamie and Melissa spent more of their childhood years living in the small farmhouse than they did in this house. I don’t know that I’ve ever considered the farmhouse as anything other than my mother’s house but I imagine the kids consider it home. For me, this is home. The house  Jim and I planned for, drew out on scratch paper and built together. The home we shared until the day he died. The home that protected me during months of grief when the only thing that got me out of our bed were the needs of our children. Now our children are strong, independent adults who are stepping into their adult lives much faster than I would prefer.

So at the risk of repeating myself, where does that leave me? When Jim died, I thought the woman in me died with him. The passionate, sensual side of my life was over. However, after the demands that have consumed my day to day life for so long lessened, those emotional and physical needs are reawakening. With no husband, I’m not sure what to do with them, but they are making their presence known.

Oh I’ve had offers from men. Occasionally I would consent to a dinner date. There was no chemistry, no spark, nothing to ignite my senses and encourage me to continue with more than the sporadic evening out. Now I’m wondering how to begin that portion of my life again. Do I sign up for one of those computer dating services?  Is that how it’s done these days?
I can count the number of single men from church in one hand. I’m more likely to win the lottery than I am to start going into the city and start hanging out at clubs. I can’t exactly place an ad in the local paper.

So maybe that part of my life is over, even if my body doesn’t want it to be so. Perhaps I will simply have to find another way to bring additional companionship into my life. I wonder if this is how one becomes the crazy cat lady…this insatiable need for companionship with no foreseeable way to obtain said companionship. Something to ponder.

Blessings,

Elizabeth