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ucflibrary · 3 years

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Each December, the UCF Libraries’ Featured Bookshelf celebrates the favorite books of employees of the UCF Libraries. And you know a major thing about librarians and library staff? They love talking about their favorite books. The books listed below are some of the favorite books we read in 2020.

Click on the link below to see the full list, descriptions, and catalog links for our favorite 2020 titles. These 20 books plus favorites from previous years are also on display in the 4th floor Reading Room of the John C. Hitt Library.

And if you find someone has checked the one you’re interested in out before you had a chance, did you know you can place an interlibrary loan and have another copy sent here for you? Click here for instructions on placing an interlibrary loan.

A Furious Sky: the five-hundred-year history of America's hurricanes by Eric Jay Dolin From the moment European colonists laid violent claim to this land, hurricanes have had a profound and visceral impact on American history-yet, no one has attempted to write the definitive account of America's entanglement with these meteorological behemoths. Eric Jay Dolin presents the five-hundred-year story of American hurricanes, from the nameless storms that threatened Columbus' New World voyages, to the devastation wrought by Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico and the escalation of hurricane season as a result of global warming. Populating his narrative with unlikely heroes such as Benito Vines, the nineteenth-century Jesuit priest whose revelatory methods for predicting hurricanes saved countless lives, and journalist Dan Rather, whose coverage of a 1961 hurricane would change broadcasting history, Dolin uncovers the often surprising ways we respond to natural crises. Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services

Children of the Land by Marcelo Hernandez Castillo With beauty, grace, and honesty, Castillo recounts his and his family’s encounters with a system that treats them as criminals for seeking safe, ordinary lives. He writes of the Sunday afternoon when he opened the door to an ICE officer who had one hand on his holster, of the hours he spent making a fake social security card so that he could work to support his family, of his father’s deportation and the decade that he spent waiting to return to his wife and children only to be denied reentry Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

Dark Matter: a novel by Blake Crouch A mind-bending, relentlessly paced science-fiction thriller, in which an ordinary man is kidnapped, knocked unconscious--and awakens in a world inexplicably different from the reality he thought he knew. "Are you happy with your life?" Those are the last words Jason Dessen hears before the masked abductor knocks him unconscious. He awakens to find himself strapped to a gurney, surrounded by strangers in hazmat suits. Before him, a man Jason's never met smiles down at him and says, "Welcome back, my friend." In this world he's woken up to, Jason's life is not the one he knows. His wife is not his wife. His son was never born. And Jason is not an ordinary college physics professor but a celebrated genius who has achieved something remarkable. Something impossible. Suggested by Katy Miller, Student Learning & Engagement

Do Nothing: how to break away from overworking, overdoing, and underliving by Celeste Headlee We work feverishly to make ourselves happy. So why are we so miserable? Despite our constant search for new ways to "hack" our bodies and minds for peak performance, human beings are working more instead of less, living harder not smarter, and becoming more lonely and anxious. This manifesto helps us break free of our unhealthy devotion to efficiency and shows us how to reclaim our time and humanity with a little more leisure Suggested by Katy Miller, Student Learning & Engagement

Eleanor Roosevelt by Blanche Wiesen Cook A study of the complex and political figure of Eleanor Roosevelt begins with her harrowing childhood, describes the difficulties of her marriage, and explains how she persuaded Franklin to make the reforms that would make him famous. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Research & Information Services

From Here to Eternity: traveling the world to find the good death by Caitlin Doughty Fascinated by our pervasive fear of dead bodies, mortician Caitlin Doughty set out to discover how other cultures care for the dead. In rural Indonesia, she watches a man clean and dress his grandfather's mummified body, which has resided in the family home for two years. In La Paz, she meets Bolivian natitas (cigarette-smoking, wish-granting human skulls), and in Tokyo she encounters the Japanese kotsuage ceremony, in which relatives use chopsticks to pluck their loved-ones' bones from cremation ashes. She introduces deathcare innovators researching body composting and green burial, and examines how varied traditions, from Mexico's Dias de los Muertos to Zoroastrian sky burial help us see our own death customs in a new light. She argues that our expensive, impersonal system fosters a corrosive fear of death that hinders our ability to cope and mourn. By comparing customs, she demonstrates that mourners everywhere respond best when they help care for the deceased and have space to participate in the process. Suggested by Katy Miller, Student Learning & Engagement

Indelicacy by Amina Cain A cleaning woman at a museum of art nurtures aspirations to do more than simply dust the paintings around her. She dreams of having the liberty to explore them in writing, and so must find a way to win herself the time and security to use her mind. She escapes her lot by marrying a rich man, but having gained a husband, a house, high society, and a maid, she finds that her new life of privilege is no less constrained. Not only has she taken up different forms of time-consuming labor - social and erotic - but she is now, however passively, forcing other women to clean up after her. Perhaps another and more drastic solution is necessary Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu Every day Willis Wu leaves his tiny room in a Chinatown SRO and enters the Golden Palace restaurant, where Black and White, a procedural cop show, is in perpetual production. He's a bit player here too, but he dreams of being Kung Fu Guy-- and he sees his life as a script. After stumbling into the spotlight, Willis finds himself launched into a wider world than he has ever known, discovering not only the secret history of Chinatown, but the buried legacy of his own family, and what that means for him in today's America. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

Outlander by Diana Gabaldon Scottish Highlands, 1945. Claire Randall, a former British combat nurse, is just back from the war and reunited with her husband on a second honeymoon when she walks through a standing stone in one of the ancient circles that dot the British Isles. Suddenly she is a Sassenach—an “outlander”—in a Scotland torn by war and raiding clans in the year of Our Lord . . . 1743. Claire is catapulted into the intrigues of a world that threatens her life, and may shatter her heart. Marooned amid danger, passion, and violence, Claire learns her only chance of safety lies in Jamie Fraser, a gallant young Scots warrior. What begins in compulsion becomes urgent need, and Claire finds herself torn between two very different men, in two irreconcilable lives. Suggested by Katie Kirwan, Acquisitions & Collections

Paradise Lost: a life of F. Scott Fitzgerald by David S. Brown In this comprehensive biography, Brown reexamines Fitzgerald’s childhood, first loves, and difficult marriage to Zelda Sayre. He looks at Fitzgerald’s friendship with Hemingway, the golden years that culminated with Gatsby, and his increasing alcohol abuse and declining fortunes which coincided with Zelda’s institutionalization and the nation’s economic collapse. Suggested by Andrew Hackler, Circulation

Recursion by Blake Crouch Reality is broken. At first, it looks like a disease. An epidemic that spreads through no known means, driving its victims mad with memories of a life they never lived. But the force that’s sweeping the world is no pathogen. It’s just the first shock wave, unleashed by a stunning discovery—and what’s in jeopardy is not our minds but the very fabric of time itself. Suggested by Mary Rubin, Special Collections & University Archives

Solutions and Other Problems by Allie Brosh Brosh’s second book includes humorous stories from her childhood; the adventures of her very bad animals; merciless dissection of her own character flaws; incisive essays on grief, loneliness, and powerlessness; as well as reflections on the absurdity of modern life. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

Spillover: animal infections and the next human pandemic by David Quammen This work examines the emergence and causes of new diseases all over the world, describing a process called "spillover" where illness originates in wild animals before being passed to humans and discusses the potential for the next huge pandemic. The emergence of strange new diseases is a frightening problem that seems to be getting worse. In this age of speedy travel, it threatens a worldwide pandemic. We hear news reports of Ebola, SARS, AIDS, and something called Hendra killing horses and people in Australia; but those reports miss the big truth that such phenomena are part of a single pattern. The bugs that transmit these diseases share one thing: they originate in wild animals and pass to humans by a process called spillover. As globalization spreads and as we destroy the ancient ecosystems, penetrating ever deeper into the furthest reaches of the planet, we encounter strange and dangerous infections that originate in animals but can be transmitted to humans. The author tracks this subject around the world. He recounts adventures in the field, netting bats in China, trapping monkeys in Bangladesh, stalking gorillas in the Congo, with the world's leading disease scientists. He takes the reader along on this quest to learn how, where from, and why these diseases emerge, and he asks the terrifying question: What might the next big one be? Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services

Squeeze Me by Carl Hiaasen It's the height of the Palm Beach charity ball season: for every disease or cause, there's a reason for the local luminaries to eat (minimally), drink (maximally), and be seen. But when a prominent high-society dowager suddenly vanishes during a swank gala, and is later found dead in a concrete grave, panic and chaos erupt. Kiki Pew was notable not just for her wealth and her jewels--she was an ardent fan of the Winter White House resident just down the road, and a founding member of the POTUSSIES, a group of women dedicated to supporting their President. Never one to miss an opportunity to play to his base, the President immediately declares that Kiki was the victim of rampaging immigrant hordes. This, it turns out, is far from the truth. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Research & Information Services

The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee A year after a whirlwind grand tour with her brother Monty, Felicity Montague has returned to England with two goals in mind: avoid the marriage proposal of a lovestruck suitor from Edinburgh and enroll in medical school. But the administrators see men as the sole guardians of science. When a doctor she idolizes marries a friend of hers in Germany, Felicity believes he could change her future. A mysterious young woman will pay Felicity's way, if Felicity will let her travel along-- as her maid. Soon they're on a perilous quest that leads them across the promenades of Zurich to secrets lurking beneath the Atlantic. Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services

The Power of Now: a guide to spiritual enlightenment by Eckhart Tolle Much more than simple principles and platitudes, this book takes readers on an inspiring spiritual journey to find their true and deepest self and reach the ultimate in personal growth and spirituality: the discovery of truth and light. In the first chapter, Tolle introduces readers to enlightenment and its natural enemy, the mind. He awakens readers to their role as a creator of pain and shows them how to have a pain-free identity by living fully in the present. The journey is thrilling, and along the way, the author shows how to connect to the indestructible essence of our Being. Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

The Scarlet Sisters: sex, suffrage, and scandal in the gilded age by Myra MacPherson A fresh look at the life and times of Victoria Woodhull and Tennie Claflin, two sisters whose radical views on sex, love, politics, and business threatened the white male power structure of the nineteenth century and shocked the world. Here award-winning author Myra MacPherson deconstructs and lays bare the manners and mores of Victorian America, remarkably illuminating the struggle for equality that women are still fighting today. Suggested by Dawn Tripp, Research & Information Services

The Shifting Realities of Philip K. Dick: selected literary and philosophical writings by Philip K. Dick Philip K. Dick has established himself as a major figure in American literature. The landscape of his imagination features a wealth of concepts and fictional worlds: Nazi-rule in a postwar nightmare; androids and the unification of man and machine; and an existence that no longer follows the logic of reality. This first-time collection assembles his nonfiction writings essays, journals, speeches, and interviews. In these writings he explores issues ranging from the merging of physics and metaphysics to the potential influences of "virtual" reality and its consequences to a plot-scenario for a potential episode of "Mission: Impossible," to the challenge that fundamental "human" values face in the age of technology and spiritual decline.". Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

The Wild Heart of Florida: Florida writers on Florida's wildlands selected and edited by Jeff Ripple and Susan Cerulean Coming from a variety of backgrounds--fiction, journalism, poetry, and environmental writing--the writers turn their talent to one thing they have in common--a love for Florida’s natural beauty and a commitment to preserve it. Their essays--some old favorites, most appearing here for the first time--are both a celebration and a pointed reminder of what we stand to lose. Suggested by Rebecca Hawk, Circulation

There Will Come a Darkness by Katy Rose Pool The Age of Darkness approaches. Who will stop it... or unleash it? For generations, the Seven Prophets guided humanity. Using their visions of the future, they ended wars and united nations-- until they disappeared a hundred years ago. All they left behind was one final prophecy, foretelling an Age of Darkness and the birth of a new Prophet who could be the world's salvation-- or the cause of its destruction. Will it be a prince exiled from his kingdom? A ruthless killer known as the Pale Hand? A once-faithful leader torn between his duty and his heart? A reckless gambler with the power to find anything or anyone? Or a dying girl on the verge of giving up? Suggested by Pam Jaggernauth, Curriculum Materials Center

#featured bookshelf #ucf library #ucf #suggested reading #staff favorites #booklr

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viva-la-sterek · 5 years

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Happy new year, Sterek Fandom! Here is a list of some greatly enjoyable fics created in the fandom this past year! It’s amazing to see Sterek still going strong with events like @sterekweek-2018, @sterek-smooch, @sterekreversebang, @stereksecretsanta, and many more! Thank you so much to the many writers, fanartists, graphic makers and everyone that contributes to fandom! x3

They Say It's Mighty Fine by @the-apocrypha (1/1 | 23,234 | Gen.)

"Hello. This is Alpha Vernon Boyd, calling from Camp Remus about—"

"Derek?" Talia asks, confused. "You're calling about Derek? Is he okay? What happened?"

"Oh, boy." Melissa blows out a breath. "All right. Is he hurt?"

"He's been there for two hours, what could he possibly have—" John pauses. "Hang on, Camp Remus? Like the werewolf camp?"

Where You Still Remember Dreaming by @yodas-yo-yo (15/15 | 95,612 | Explicit)

“What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Balto.”

“What’s yours?”

“Stiles.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. That isn’t his real name. There’s no way. But now he thinks about it, he has a vague memory of someone, probably Uncle Peter, telling him that with the fae, names have power. “I’m Miguel,” he says.

“Lie.”

“Are you trying to tell me your real name is Stiles?”

Stiles runs his tongue across his teeth and considers Derek carefully. “Fair enough,” he says, “Miguel it is.”

Grabbing his groceries and pocketing the change, Derek turns to leave; he’s nearly at the door when Stiles calls out, “By the way, Miguel, if you’re interested, it’s two for one on bags of kibble at the pet store down the street.”

Derek doesn’t look back, doesn’t hesitate, just raises a hand and flips him off on the way out.

Sweet Buns by skoosiepants / @pantstomatch (1/1 | 17,936 | Teen)

Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.

Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.

Or-

The a/b/o bakery au with feelings

Scrubbing Bubbles by MargaretKire (8/8 | 46,063 | Explicit)

Stiles thought it would be easy doing janitorial work for an office. At first, it really was. The job only took a few hours in the evenings and it helped pay for rent and college. Sure, Hale Industries took up an entire floor in one of the downtown financial buildings, but the place was new and easy to care for. He didn’t even have to spend much time cleaning the huge corner office, because the trash was nearly always empty and the office itself was spotless, like no one used it.

It was basically the perfect college job. At least, until the boss started staying late.

Give you that thing you can't even imagine by LunaCanisLupus_22 (1/1 | 10,982 | Explicit)

the one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he's about to find out he's very, very wrong.

That Frothing Knob by Pride_of_Six (4/4 | 14,598 | Explicit)

Stiles was wiping down the spout of a machine with a cloth, and Derek almost popped a stiffy right there in the café. It was completely embarrassing that after so many years of control over both his human and wolf side Derek would find himself so… enamoured by this random. Regardless, the wolf wants what the wolf wants, and Derek found himself trying his darnedest to get some sort of a rise out of Stiles, “You sure know how to handle that frothing knob.”

Needless to say, Derek got to see that beautiful blush colouring the barista’s face once again.

hey asshole by @everchanginginks (1/1 | 15,631 | Mature)

The Hales moved in next door more than a year ago and while Cora and Stiles became fast friends, Stiles has yet to meet his best friend's big brother, Derek, who’s been attending college in New York. When Derek comes home for the summer he makes less than a stellar impression. And vice versa.

lube and determination by @bleep0bleep (2/2 | 4,873 | Explicit)

It's a holiday classic: homesick boy wants to make a pumpkin pie while studying abroad, boy realizes the only place to find vegetable shortening is a sex shop, and boy makes fool of himself in front of other boy.

The Quickest Way to a Man’s Heart (is Through His Bottomless Pit) by @isthatbloodonhisshirt (1/1 | 54,167 | Explicit)

Pulling open his apartment door, he let out an involuntary shout when something was quite literally thrust into his chest hard enough to have him almost tip backwards. He managed to right himself while keeping hold of what had been shoved at him and looked up in time to see his neighbour striding back towards his apartment.

“You’re going to fucking kill yourself.”

His door slammed.

Stiles blinked at the other man’s door, utterly confused, and looked down at what he was holding.

It was a plastic bag, full of what felt like tupperware, which made no sense to Stiles because when had his neighbour broken into his house to steal his tupperware?

Sharing Food by @aussiebee (2/2 | 9,564 | Explicit)

Derek is pretty much absorbed into the Stilinski family, one meal at a time.

Have You Tried Turning It Off and On Again? by @sophisticatedyet (1/1 | 8776 | Explicit)

Stiles gets a wrong number call from an old man who can't install his antivirus software. He feels like doing a good deed, so he decides to walk him through it.

Derek is not an old man, just a technologically incompetent twenty-six year old TA who has made enemies of the entire UCLA IT department. The helpful stranger he has just accidentally called is about to become Derek's go-to computer guy.

Bittersweet and Strange, Finding You Can Change (Learning You Were Wrong) by WithMyTeeth (8/8 | 49,983 | Explicit)

When perpetual loner and failwolf extraordinaire Derek Hale finally loses patience with his meddling family, he grabs a confused Stiles Stilinski, unsuspecting diner patron and herbal medicine student, off the street to pose as his new boyfriend. Hijinks ensue.

Companionship by exclamation / @jessicameats (42/42 | 85,697 | Explicit)

Companions are elite pleasure slaves, trained in music, dance, poetry, and, especially, sex. Stiles is the worst student in the history of the companion school, so his teachers decide to get rid of him by claiming he is interested in bondage and selling him to someone who'll keep him restrained and gagged.

Derek Hale is lonely and interested in BDSM. Buying a companion with an interest in submission seemed like a good idea at the time, but it turns out Stiles is not what was advertised. Not only does Stiles hate the thought of BDSM, he also has very strong opinions on what constitutes consent, or lack thereof. But keeping Stiles seems a better option than sending him back to the school, so somehow they will have to work this out between them.

Do Not Go Gentle by @mojoflower (51/51 | 195,878 | Explicit)

Derek Hale, Beacon Hills Alpha and Dom, wakes up in a dark cell already housing another captive – a mute, traumatized sub with a cruel collar around his neck. His only goal is to get them both free of their brutal circumstances; but even as he tries to get his young companion home, a bond between them grows. Nothing comes easily: danger and harrowing echoes of their ordeal shadow every step they take.

too long to the weekend by @dizzy-redhead (1/1 | 5,261 | Explicit)

When Derek agreed to show Stiles around Berkeley, he was thinking of Stiles at fifteen, his childhood friend, the son of his mother's best friend.

He was not prepared for Stiles, all grown up.

Married at First Glance by WonderWolf (14/14 | 63,558 | Explicit)

Married at First Glance gives its participants seven weeks. Seven weeks, starting when they meet and marry their “perfect match”, to decide if they want to stay married or divorce.

For Stiles and Derek though, the challenge lies within trying to pretend that they don’t absolutely hate each other’s guts. When you’re married to a werewolf who dislikes humans, however, this can get a little tricky.

But the sweet, sweet cash reward at the end will be worth it. Right?

(A Married at First Sight AU)

Show Me Your Igloo and I'll Show You Mine by @thisdiscontentedwinter (1/1 | 4,943 | Explicit)

Stiles is finally going to meet the online friend he's had for years.

Instead, the hottest guy in the world walks in.

Broken Car, Lemon Bar by inhystereks / @bibliophile246 (6/6 | 27,884 | Mature)

Stiles got out of his car so whoever was coming wouldn't think he was just being an asshole and stopped in the middle of the road on purpose. He almost laughed when he caught sight of the approaching car. A black Camaro. Which meant Derek Hale was the one slowing down to pull up behind him. The town mechanic and also the scariest fucker around.

Oh, sweet irony.

He was exactly the person Stiles desperately needed and was also terrified of.

Perfect.

The Courting Dilemmas of a Spark and a Werewolf Prince by green-leaf (2/2 | 11,472 | Teen)

Talia smiled calmly. “I am well aware that you are not a werewolf, my darling, but I thought this would be the best reading material for you to use as reference. After all, how would you know how to act during a courting ritual if you do not study it?”

“But I don’t... I’m not…” Stiles narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you setting me up with someone?”

Talia rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be obtuse, my darling. Why would I set you up with someone –”

“Oh, well, that’s good, because–”

“–when I have a son who is already perfectly enamored with you?”

The Accused by @drgrlfriend (1/1 | 5,764 | Mature)

“Remember when I thought I was in love with Kate, and she turned out to be a murderous hunter who killed most of my family and blinded me in the process?”

Erica’s voice was cautious. “Derek — what the fuck — of course I remember, how could you even ask? —”

“Well, my mate is worse,” Derek said flatly.

A Little Less Conversation by Lissadiane (1/1 | 5,626 | Gen.)

Derek has learned to be a good Alpha in most of the ways that count. The problem is, now that he's well-adjusted, safe, and happy, it's time to turn his attention to the one thing he's always sucked at: finding a nice, sweet Omega mate.

Lucky for him, Erica and Stiles have ideas on how to make that as painless as possible.

In which Derek Hale is a failwolf and somehow, ends up going speed dating.

Cheers to more Sterek in 2019!!

#eternalsterek #tag: 2018 #tag: year end round up

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mattkeepsrambling · 3 years

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2020 Year In Review

What a supremely dull year. I cannot believe how little happened this year. I got into this whole mask-wearing craze that many people seem to have gotten into (except for those who are REALLY against it.) I'm so happy that all the schools decided that teaching in the building was pointless and could just as easily be done online. Things are so much easier now. The election went off without a hitch or any controversy whatsoever, and I am glad that the outgoing President was gracious and we got another peaceful transition of power. I saw so many movies this year. I stopped going to the theater, though. It was just too dark, the screen was too big and the seats too comfortable. I love being at home and being surrounded by all those distractions. I don't know how 2021 could top 2020.

Best of 2020.

In all seriousness, this year was the worst. Once the world shut down in March, I decided to make the most of it and started cataloging my media consumption (minus video games). It is something I am going to keep doing. I stopped collecting movie tickets a few years ago, and this seems like the next step. I have really enjoyed seeing all that I have consumed. The final tally is 308 movies, 58 television shows/specials, 29 audiobooks, and 43 books/graphic novels since March 18, 2020. As December went on, I had to make sure that I was finished with books, tv shows, and audiobooks before Jan. 1-you will see why when I share my spreadsheet for 2021. Here are the best that I read/watched/listened to this year with all that media. And not all of these things are new for 2020 (most are, though).

Best Movie: Host

A lot of the movies I watched this year were horror movies. You can say that I have been trying to make up for lost time. I subscribed to Shudder recently. It is a streaming service that specializes in horror and thriller movies. I subscribed to the service initially for "Host."

This movie was made during the pandemic, over a Zoom meeting. It is about five friends who do a seance and the spirit they contact. The fact that it is Zoom figures heavily into the movie; it is 57 minutes long, about the length of the free Zoom meeting.

This movie is terrific and damn scary. I have watched very few movies that have genuinely scared me. I have realized what it is that makes a good horror movie: tension. It is all over this movie. This movie uses the general concept of the Zoom meeting so well to build up tension. It doesn't have the benefit of a huge budget and the best cameras. The scenes take place on a computer screen in average rooms. That elevates sudden sounds, slight movements and makes use of darkness.

Honorable Mentions: "Soul," "Promising Young Women," "It Follows," "Hereditary," "Midsommor," "Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always."

Best TV Show: Ted Lasso

Whenever I talk to other people about AppleTV+, I always mention two things. One is that at $5 a month, you don't even notice the cost. The other is that "Ted Lasso" is worth the price of a subscription.

As I have previously mentioned, the show is about an American football coach being hired to coach English football. This show is based on a one-joke series commercial for NBC Sports. Ted Lasso knows nothing about coaching football.

The commercials boil down to "look how this guy doesn't know anything about England." This should not work as a show. Years ago, ABC aired a TV show based on the Geico commercials' cavemen, and it was terrible. I should know; I watched the pilot and reviewed it for the Buffalo State Record.

"Ted Lasso" works because it is more than the commercials. Yes, they do have a lot of "fish out of water" humor, and you laugh at Ted as he navigates a new sport in a new country, but it is more than that. "Scrubs" creator Bill Lawernce is one of the people behind this show, and it shows. This show can be hilarious and then take a somber turn in no time. "Scrubs" is well known for that.

The other thing that "Ted Lasso" has going for it is boundless optimism. It is baked into the character of Ted Lasso. When the show starts, the fans hate him, the players hate him, and management tries to sabotage him at every turn. Yet, he remains committed to his job and making this team successful. He and his wife go through one of the most amicable divorces ever put on screen. It can be a little much at times, but then that divorce happens. We see Lasso, played amazingly by Jason Sudikus, lose that relentlessly positive exterior.

Those cracks show, and he becomes a much more fleshed out and complicated character. The show has been renewed for two more seasons already, and Lawernce recently said that the creative team had planned three seasons. I love this show, but I think that only three seasons will be a good thing. It means that we will get fully fleshed out arcs, and there is only a certain amount of story that the creators have to tell.

Honorable Mentions: "Fleabag Season 2," "The Clone Wars Season 7," "Harley Quinn Season 2," A Teacher," "Doom Patrol Season 2," "The Flight Attendant Season 1," "The Mandalorian Season 2."

Best Audiobook: Sapiens

This book, published in 2011, has been on my to-read list for a while. Years ago, a friend of mine told me I would like it. In its most basic synopsis, "Sapiens" is a look at how humans evolved. It looks at how we developed societies, religions, governments, and other things that made us the dominant species on the planet.

This book is fascinating. It looks at various social constructs that humanity developed and how that shapes who we have become. Most of the time, I can multitask while listening to audiobooks. I will do the dishes, replay video games, write, lesson plan, clean, or do laundry when an audiobook is playing. This is one I had to give my full attention. There were so many tidbits of information that are just riveting. I was always blown away by what I heard. Despite the topic's denseness (it is 15 hours and 17 minutes long), the audiobook was easy to listen to. It is one that I will be revisiting in the future.

Honorable Mentions: "Ahsoka," "The Graveyard Book," "Crazy is my Superpower."

Best Book: Harleen

I have been a fan of "Batman The Animated Series" forever. One of the most famous things to come out of the series that debuted in 1992 was Harley Quinn character. She started as a sidekick of The Joker. Fans loved her so much that she was given a more prominent role and one of the best backstories of anyone in Batman's rogue's gallery.

Last year DC, under their Black Label brand, released "Harleen," which presented how she went from Dr. Harleen Quinzell, the brilliant psychologist, to Harley Quinn, psychotic on-again/off-again paramour of The Joker. DC Black Label is used for a more mature mini-series, and this is a story that benefits from the freedom allowed.

The basic plot is that Dr. Quinzell gets a job at Arkham Asylum to study the criminals there for her research into their minds and develop a possible cure. Through her interviews with The Joker, she starts to develop feelings for him. The telling focuses on her background and ends with her fully committing to Joker and a life of crime.

The art by Stjepan Sejic (who also wrote it) is gorgeous. On my second read-through, I took more time to appreciate the art. I bought the issues as they came out on Comixology and read them on my iPad and loved the story and how Sejic chose to tell it. I read them on the way to and from work. With only about 10 minutes on the train, the story was my focus. When I bought the hardcover collected edition, I took my time. It is a beautiful book, and I am glad to have it in my collection.

Honorable Mentions: "One Day," "The Amber Spyglass," "High Hopes," "The Deepest Well," I Wish My Teacher Knew," "Horrorstor."

**Authors Note: I wrote most of the above before I watched "Soul" on Christmas. I have a lot to say about it, and it might have taken the top spot from "Host" (I don't think I could have picked two more different movies to take that top spot). I will have a full review out after at least one more viewing.**

These are the links for my 202 Watch List and my 2021 Spreadsheet.

Media Consumed 2020

Media Consumed 2021

If you have been following my ramblings for the last few years, you know that I don't make New Year's resolutions. I heard the idea of picking a word and working toward that word all year.

This year that word is positivity.

It is really easy to dwell on negative thoughts. In the society we live in now, there is an emphasis put on negativity. It is everywhere, and I hate it. Stop reading right now and think about the best and worst thing that has happened to you. If you are like me, the worst thing comes to mind first. Even though my job is the best thing to happen to me, and it happened in the last two years, my firing from the JCC in September of 2015 hits harder and comes faster. It took me years to get over that and years more to let go of the anger I felt.

There are many reasons why negative thoughts come easier, and I have linked to a few articles I like on the topic below. This year particularly, I have been more prone to rumination on past pain and failures. 2021 is the year I actively try to change that. When I feel a negative thought coming on, I will stop and change my line of thinking.

One concrete example I can give involves my former place of employment. I live very close to the JCC. I walk by it all the time, and I can effortlessly start down the negativity rabbit hole. I am not doing that anymore. I will redirect to the good things that happened there. I am doing that with other places I have negative associations with as well. I want to focus on the positive, think positive thoughts, take positive actions, do things for myself and others that help perpetuate the positive.

I want to weed out negativity in my life whenever I can. Even something as simple as doing the dishes every night before bed (which I started six months ago) is a step in the positive direction. I know this is going to be tough. I despise teaching virtually, and it is what I will be doing for the rest of this school year. But, as much as I hate it, I need to focus on the good moments and less on the bad ones. I will have to stop calling everyone I see outside without a mask a "maskhole" in my head and assuming they are a right-wing MAGA hat-wearing idiot (as I said, it's going to be hard). There is too much negativity in the world right now, and I don't want to contribute to that.

Why Do Negative Thoughts Come to Mind

Is Dwelling on Negative Thoughts Hurting You?

Why Do We Dwell on The Past?

Why Do We Keep Dwelling on Our Mistakes?

The past few years, I have tried to have my word of the year relate to my writing. This year it was a little harder. It was not as straight forward as it has in the past. The choice of positivity was made because there have been so many awful things happening this year that I felt I needed to change my mindset. In regards to my writing, I am keeping it simple: Write something every single day. This heart doc I know motivated me to make this a goal.

I want to write more and find out where "Escape" will end up. I have an idea notebook I will bring with me to jot down inspiration whenever it hits. I am blocking out time every day to write, either something I will post here or just something for me.

Thanks for sticking with me 2,000 words. I hope you all had a great holiday season, and I wish you well in 2021.

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jackfollmanwriter-blog · 6 years

Text

Detroit

The sight of my father’s Detroit PD uniform always made me feel like a child, but seeing it there lying on the floor it made me feel even more helpless than I when I was five years old. It was funny to think how intimidating the navy blue garb could be when put upon the sinewy frame of a man with a badge when it looked so harmless and pathetic, crumpled up next to a dusty fireplace, looking like any old piece of dirty laundry.

I stepped up to the uniform with a tremble and knelt down to take it in my arms. Knowing that the sight of the uniform meant I would never see my dad’s body again, I took its collar up to my face and inhaled and hoped the fossilized scent of his Old Spice might somehow make me feel safe in a darkened place.

The little fucker’s tip was spot on. There was a cop’s uniform lying in an abandoned house at the end of Baker Street. What the little fucker didn’t tell me was the uniform belonged to Amit Patel. My father.

The little fucker I refer to is a 17-year-old borderline criminal I interviewed a few times in pursuit of a story for the Detroit Free Press before I got laid off and before I decided that he was mostly full of shit. He usually hung around the edge of an abandoned cul-de-sac pretending to sell weed and flagged me down as I was on my way to an interview with someone who I hoped was more honest.

My story was about “Zombie,” a new drug that had hit the streets of Detroit, but that was still so underground only those heavily entrenched in the world of hard drugs and law enforcement knew about it. Those privy to information about Zombie knew it was a liquid drug of unknown ingredients usually cooked up in one of the countless abandoned houses that haunted Detroit. The users shot up the stuff in the back of their neck and it’s heavy hold led to them joining a marauding group of addicts rumored to be eating people, particularly their brains (hence the name Zombie). Whether the drug made you crave eating people or if it was just a group of people who liked to eat people who just happened to really like the drug was the subject of hot debate.

I was privy to this information because my father and my brother, Az, were in the Detroit Police Department. The two of them had pulled some strings and gotten me behind-the-scenes access to the department as I pursued the first media story about Zombie.

The department labeled me as a bad omen, because as soon as I showed up, officers started going missing. Three cops disappeared within my first month of hanging around the station and all in the same way my father eventually would. They went out on a domestic disturbance calls in one of the many cul-de-sacs littered with the shells of abandoned house that dotted the city like dead insects in a spider’s web and never came back. Their uniforms were always found in a different abandoned neighborhood than the one they had been sent to investigate. The trend put such a scare into the department my father and brother worked at had been reduced to just four officers after a rash of retirements and resignations.

A big reason why so many of the guys were giving it up was the entire Detroit police department had zero leads on breaking up the Zombie clan or tracking down any of the missing officers, dead or alive. I think the idea of being eaten had particularly created a flight in the officers and I believed the cannibalism rumors because nearly every house that was searched after Zombie groups had been reported there had included at least one human skeleton which was partially eaten with hacked upon bones and empty skulls.

Another key factor to the mysteriousness of the disappearing cops was, despite their uniforms always being left behind, their hats were always never recovered. The main theory connected to the permanent disappearance of the hats was because they housed a new piece of the technology, the “cop cam.” Forced on officers due to a never-ending rash of horrible PR, the GoPro-style cameras recorded everything the officers did and were monitored back at the station.

After my dad went missing, Az and his six-year-old son Cale moved into my one-bedroom apartment in the heart of the city. Az and Cale lived in a larger house on the edge of the city and we figured with all of the officers going missing, a cramped apartment downtown was a safer environment. Az and Cale had been sleeping on my couch, but the night that I had discovered my father’s uniform we all slept together in my bed with Az and I crying, Cale too young to really absorb exactly what happened.

I had an interview set up for the next week I thought about cancelling but decided to keep after days of mourning. My father’s disappearance encouraged me to double down on my pursuit of tracking down the members of the Zombie group, even if the newspaper I had initially planned on submitting my story to no longer employed me. This was no longer about reporting, this was my own personal investigation and about being able to hold a proper funeral for the man who raised me.

My interview took me out to Stoepel Park, a neighborhood ravaged by urban flight more than any other in the city. Desolate, crumpling and deserted, the burg reminded me of the Emerald City in Return to Oz.

The mother of a young man who had joined the Zombie gypsies responded to my Craigslist ad that advertised for those with information about the group to come forward for a documentary. The mother claimed her son joined the group for a few weeks, but came back home to get clean a couple of days ago. This was potentially huge. In the few months the group had been growing, there was not a single report of a defector.

I headed to Stoepel alone as the presence of anyone else, especially those that looked like law enforcement, could result in those who may have been loose-lipped clamming up. Absolutely no one wanted to be connected in any way to the Zombie group, so those that may have had information were reluctant to come forward out of fear of being accused.

My interview took me to a dilapidated manor that could have belonged to a big wig at General Motors decades ago, but was now home to single gray-haired woman with cigarette smoke-tanned skin, recessed gums and eight cats.

She spoke out of the side of her mouth with cracked lips as an ash gray feline rubbed the side of its head against my calf.

“And I thought he was gone. I thought he was gone forever.”

I could feel the immense weight of the woman’s life in every word she spat to me from her broken easy chair in the middle of a living room that was heated by three space heaters and the body heat of a handful of felines.

“Then one morning I heard that ol’ familiar rumble of his ol’ Chevy Luv in the driveway and I couldn’t believe it. I looked out the window and there he was behind the wheel, sleeping in the breeze of the air conditionin.”

The woman couldn’t have felt more genuine and sweet. She seemed like one of those women who looked on the verge of 65, but who was actually barely 40 and had lived about three lives already, but I just couldn’t get comfortable in the house. An open floor plan, where the living room we sat in could be entered through four different openings, I never felt secure and I was perpetually overcome with the feeling that someone was watching me.

The woman told me her son went upstairs once she brought him in from the driveway and had been up there sleeping ever since, but I kept hearing shuffling sounds from the door behind me. A clear cough from behind the door was all I needed to hear to fully tune myself out from the woman’s story and start to try and wiggle myself out of the situation.

“He said that they tried to get him to do things he just wouldn’t do.”

I stopped the woman with a stiff hand.

“I’m sorry, but I…

I bit my tongue harder than I ever had in my entire life and tasted the tinny spice of blood drift down my throat while I stared at something that made me want to swallow my tongue…

A gaunt, young man, clad in dirty overalls with splotches of what looked to be white paint checkered clumsily across his face emerged from a door behind the woman’s chair. He skulked around the back of her chair with his eyes locked on me while I struggled for words.

Cold hands clamped down on the back of my neck. I was lifted up off of the couch for a moment, but squirmed as hard as I could and freed myself for a miraculous moment.

Everything became a blur – the woman screaming, my neck burning, the man in overalls descending upon me. I bolted for the front door. I dashed across the dirty carpet, slammed myself into the heavy wood of the door and pushed my way out with the presence of whoever had picked me up by my neck breathing upon my back.

I burst out onto the open porch of the house and into a shaken snow globe of a world. Fat, fresh flakes of powdery white snow stuck to the black fleece of my jacket when I ran out onto the icy sidewalk and almost fell upon my ass.

Luckily I parked my car on the street right in front of the house and never locked the doors of the 1999 Oldsmobile so I was able to slide ride in with the ice still melting upon the bottom of my shoes. I locked the doors and fired the engine just before a dark presence overtook the passenger side window. I saw the outline of an immense man out of the corner of my eye for just a sliver of a moment before I drove off down the street with my wheels skidding on the ice rink that was the pavement.

I called Az as soon as I was far enough away from the terror of the house from which I escaped.

He picked up and spoke before I even had a chance to get a word out.

“You have to come down to the station. Dad’s camera is on.”

***

I stood with Az and the three other remaining police officers in his station watching surveillance style videos on four monitors propped on top of a long desk.

“His came on about an hour ago. About the same time the others did,” Officer Turner explained and pointed to the monitor which broadcast the dated interior of a car.

“Do we have tracking on these? I asked.

“We don’t have like a GPS in them, but we can follow their location by any surroundings we see,” Turner answered. “Other than you father’s they all seem to be inside homes right now. Your father’s is going somewhere in a car, but I haven’t gotten a good look out the windows, so I don’t know where they are driving.”

Turner was clearly the alpha of the remaining group. Round, bald, mustached and gapped-toothed, he always reminded me of the dad from the show Family Matters.

“Great fuckin time for a migraine,” Turner announced and then got up from his chair and walked away to the bathroom.

The faint sound of trickling urine was interrupted by gasps escaping from the two other officers’ mouths.

“We got movement over here,” Officer Lind said after gulping down a mouthful of coffee sooner than he had planned.

Officer Lind was the youngest of the group and the rest of the guys always made fun of him for his long hair, even though it couldn’t have grown more than an inch from his scalp in any direction.

“Here too,” Officer Washington chirped and adjusted her glasses. “Getting into a car.”

Officer Washington had been the lone woman in the station before everyone else left and bucked any stereotypes about female cops, she would have been considered the most attractive woman in just about any office she worked in, had two kids and was a gentle soul that actually reminded me of my grandma even though she was barely 40.

All four screens we were monitoring now showed the inside of cars.

“Looks like everyone’s got some place to go,” Washington said quietly just before Turner came back from the restroom and took a seat next to her.

“Still don’t recognize any locations though,” Turner noted.

“My dad’s stopped,” I pointed out with a finger.

The car in my dad’s cam had come to a stop. We watched the cam turn to the right and look upon a palatial but crumbling estate that lurched over the sidewalk the car had parked next to.

“Anybody see an address?” Turner called out.

“Wouldn’t matter unless someone knows what street this is,” Lind replied.

Turner was going to continue, but was interrupted by the sound of Az vomiting upon the floor.

“What the fuck Patel?” Washington groaned.

I patted Az on the back as he knelt over his golden vomit that smelled of light beer and splashed across the floor.

“I didn’t know you were sick man,” I said before Az interrupted me.

“I’m not sick. I puked because that’s Emily’s house.”

****

Emily was Az’ ex-girlfriend and the mother of Cale. I didn’t know much about her, but I did know she lived in a rundown old mansion not too far from where I had just been in Stoepel Park that Cale was scared to stay at because it reminded him of a haunted house.

I was commanding Az’ squad car on a residential street at freeway speeds while he sat in the passenger’s seat with sweat dripping off his brow and dried vomit crusted upon his lips. We had dispatched officers from other nearby stations hoping they might somehow beat us to Emily’s house, but it was likely that Az and I would be the first responders.

Both of us had blue tooth speakers sticking out of our ears connected back to the station where the other officers were monitoring our father’s cop cam and relaying what they were seeing. My heart fluttered with every detail they described, but the breaks in their descriptions were actually much more heart-stopping, my brain always assumed that they were seeing something too horrible to tell.

“It’s somewhere in the house, but I haven’t seen any people yet,” I could hear Washington’s voice in my ear as I mashed the pedal and tore down a street that Az told me connected to the street Emily lived on. “I sometimes hear other noises in the house though and it seems to follow those.”

“Where is it in the house?” Az asked.

“Not exactly sure,” Washington said. “It’s going through a hallway slowly, but I don’t know the layout of the house so I don’t know where that is.”

“Do you know the house?” I asked Az.

He hesitated for a moment, clearly disappointed with himself.

“No, I’ve never actually been inside, just on the porch.”

We screeched up to the house, parked behind a rusty Chevy and sprinted up to the front porch. Az handed a gun to me as we ascended the steps even though he knew that I had never touched a firearm in my life.

“You check upstairs, I have the main floor,” Az screamed at me and tore off into the guts of the house.

I couldn’t believe how brave the adrenaline had made me. I had been the kind of person who changed the TV channel during horror movie trailers and now I was climbing stairs in a dark old house chasing after a potential cannibal with a pistol in my hand.

“I think I hear something in the basement,” I heard Az’ disconnected voice speak into my ear. “Have you seen it go down any stairs?”

“No,” Lind answered back instead of Washington, who had been talking to us.

“Lind? What the fuck?” Az spat.

“Washington left. One of the other cams just showed up outside of her house,” Lind said in an unemotional flash. “Same with Turner.”

“Holy shit,” Az exhaled. “Where the fuck is it now?

“I missed some shit when Washington took off, but I think I saw it go up some stairs…

I stopped at the top of the stairs when Lind finished his sentence and lifted the gun up in front of myself.

“But now it’s in what looks like a kid’s bedroom,” Lind went on.

“Shit,” Az yelled making me jump in my stance and drop the gun. “The noise I heard down here was a fucking dryer.”

I dropped down to pick up the gun with my eyes steadied on the darkened hallway that was in front of me.

“Where is the last cam?” Az whispered. You said one was at Washington’s, one was at Turner’s and one is here. Where is that stray one?”

“Uh, it was just in a backyard somewhere. It just went in a backdoor of some house. Now it’s heading down a dark stairway,” Lind answered.

“Where is the one in here?” I called out but was interrupted by the sound of Lind yelling into the speaker in my ear.

“Oh my God. It’s in the basement. Patel. Patel. Patel.”

Lind’s shouts were drowned out by the sound of gurgling screams.

I decided to turn back around and head down the stairs to help Az, but stopped when I saw a shadowy figure descend from an attic staircase that was at the end of the hallway in front of me.

It was Cale. He scurried down the steps and started creeping towards me in the dark hallway.

I should have been paying complete attention to his lurking, but I was more than distracted by the horror broadcasting in my blue tooth…

Whatever Az had encountered in the basement was destroying him in a horrible manner. The sounds of my brother’s screams and Lind’s prayers to God pounded in my ear.

Interrupting the horror in my ears, a figure had stepped out of one of the doors in the hallway and had pursued Cale back up the attic’s ladder.

I snapped back to life when the sounds of my brother’s disembowelment quieted.

“He’s following the kid up into the attic,” Lind’s voice announced in my ear.

I started shuffling to the attic ladder just as the figure’s feet disappeared up into the hole in the ceiling.

“I don’t think it saw you,” Lind added. “The kid is hiding somewhere in the attic.”

I climbed up into the attic ladder with the gun limply held out in front of me.

“Where is the other one, the one in the basement?” I whispered.

“He’s still in the basement,” Lind stammered, clearly not wanting to give any details about what was going on down there.

I tuned Lind out when I climbed up into the attic and saw no signs of life, just scattered dusty boxes and lines of clothes hanging from the rafters that had turned the attic into a bit of a library of faded fabrics and forgotten styles. The hanging outfits concealed almost everything in the space and were strung up all around me dully lit in a beam of soft light that came in through a single window.

“Where is he?” I whispered.

“I can’t tell, somewhere in the clothes.”

The gun still in my hand, handle slicked by nervous sweat, I started combing through the clothes, throwing them down the metal rods they hung from, revealing more and more cobwebs and dusty wooden beams.

Until…

The moving of a rack of clothes revealed Cale. Tucked up into a ball and crying, he looked away from me with his arms out in a pathetic defense.

“We have to go,” I whispered.

I grabbed Cale’s hand and started to lift him up out of his tuck on the floor and felt a presence step up behind me. Its weight sent a creek from the floor into my ears that were also occupied by the sound of Lind’s voice…

“It’s right behind you…

I turned around in a whirl to see the blur of a figure descending upon me with a hideously long knife.

I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger.

I was suddenly on my back lying next to Cale on the floor with my hand throbbing. I looked down to see the gun still in my hand and I looked forward to see the figure in a gasping clump on the floor a few feet in front of us.

I stared at the mound of motionless human matter for a few seconds before the sounds of Cale’s cries turned my attention to him. I pulled Cale close and just sat there crying with him for a few moments with my eyes glued to the prone figure on the floor in front of us and my finger on the trigger of the gun I had just fired.

After taking a few more deep breathes, I spoke.

“Where is the other one?”

“It’s gone,” Lind chimed back.

I didn’t bother asking any more questions about what happened in that basement, my brain assumed the worst. I pictured my brother’s uniform lying crumpled on a dirty basement floor just like I had found my father’s.

I turned my gaze to the body that lay in front of me on the floor and caught something I recognized. Perched on top of an oily mop of dark hair was a scuffed and faded Detroit Tigers baseball cap adorned with a few silver pins.

During the 80s, the Detroit PD tried to connect to kids by having officers where special police hats that were basically Detroit sports team caps. My dad had loved the Tigers one that he had so much he demanded to keep wearing it even after they quickly disbanded the idea. It was pretty much his calling card.

I could never look at a worn out Tigers cap and not think about my dad and now I was staring at his very navy hat pinned with his department pin and cop cam resting on the head of the person that had likely killed him, and possibly eaten him. It made the bone-chilling winter air that seeped through the thin walls of that attic that much more cold.

I sat shivering on the frigid curb outside of the house with Cale wrapped in a blanket next to me. I felt like I wanted a cigarette even though I had never actually smoked one.

I watched the various crews that show up after an emergency file about the stiffly frozen front yard of the house – the paramedics, the cops, the firefighters – all milling around behind the backdrop of flashing lights that seemed to light the snowy world a shade of pale pink. I put my arm around Cale and pulled him close.

I audibly groaned when an unfamiliar officer walked up to me. I was still far too shaken to be questioned about anything. I put my hands up in a dismissive posture, but the officer ignored me and started firing away with words.

“This was all bullshit.”

“What?” I shot back in disgust thinking about how what the guy was referring to as bullshit had just cost my brother his life.

“This was all just a calculated distraction to get what few cops are still around here out of the way. Those fuckers just attacked every house in the neighborhood the last few hours.”

I didn’t really care. It was my time to be selfish. I didn’t care if the savages had gone into hundreds of homes and pulled away helpless people, I only cared about my brother and I didn’t want to hear any more about anything, just hold Cale and wallow in sorrow.

It took a little while, but I think the officer finally picked up on this. A sheepish look washed upon his face.

“I found this in there and I thought you might want it.”

The officer pulled my father’s Tigers cap out from his back pocket and stuck it down upon my head.

“I think it fits you good.”

Originally published by Thought Catalog on www.ThoughtCatalog.com

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mediafocus-blog1 · 7 years

Text

Allow housing finance organisations to just accept demand deposits from big investors

New Post has been published on https://mediafocus.biz/allow-housing-finance-organisations-to-just-accept-demand-deposits-from-big-investors/

Allow housing finance organisations to just accept demand deposits from big investors

MUMBAI, JULY 24: To enable housing finance organisations to complete extra effectively with banks at the interest price the front, they ought to be allowed to get admission to call for deposits from huge investors such as companies and high net worth people, according to Kapil Wadhawan, Chairman and Managing Director, Dewan Housing Finance Corporation.

Housing finance corporations (HFCs) have a long-standing song document of servicing retail time period deposits of over 12 months. So, there is no motive why they will not be able to service call for (financial savings/current account) deposits of big investors, he stated.

Wadhawan observed that building societies inside the UK now not best offer home loans but also take financial savings deposits.

Housing finance enterprise professionals are of the opinion that if the regulators (Reserve Bank of India and National Housing Bank) permit HFCs to take call for deposits from huge buyers, there won’t be a need to tweak the extant suggestions for preserving the statutory liquidity ratio (SLR).

SLR is the part of public deposits that an HFC has to necessarily invest in authorities securities. Currently, the SLR requirement for HFCs is 12.50 in step with the scent of the public deposits. For banks, the SLR is at 20 in keeping with a cent in their net demand and time deposits.

The demand for being allowed to faucet demand deposits comes inside the context of the fee of funds of HFCs being an awful lot better than that of banks. For example, as of March-cease 2017, DHFL’s fee of budget changed into 8.83 according to cent while for State Bank of India it was 5.88 consistent with the scent.

HFCs’ fund resources include a line of credit from banks and monetary institutions, capital market instruments (non-convertible debentures, non-public placement of subordinated debt and perpetual debt tool, and commercial paper), fixed deposits (of over 365 days duration), re-finance from National Housing Bank and External Commercial Borrowings. The DHFL honcho stated: “You observe a co-operative financial institution’s asset class and also you examine our asset class. There is a stark distinction (in terms of non-performing property).”

So, whilst co-operative banks are allowed to accept deposits, then HFCs too have to be allowed to mop up financial savings deposits, albeit, from massive traders, he added.

Not easy to build To a question whether DHFL will take into account making use of for a banking licence, Wadhawan said: “I assume we’re quite cosy with what we are doing currently. We do accept deposits. It is not clean to build a bank from scratch. It takes time.

In banking, he stated there is a robust regulatory course on the kind of assets an entity can create and garnering deposits/ financial savings and so on from the marketplace isn’t always easy. “It isn’t always easy to construct that (banking) franchise. And extra importantly you need to have a logo. So, I think, we as a housing finance employer are today at the forefront of supplying value-adds to our clients even without being a bank,” he said.

“We do offer SME (small and medium enterprise) loans. We do provide housing loans. And those are at as aggressive prices as you could get inside the marketplace, from even the banking gadget. So, we accept as true with that this (housing finance) is a centred commercial enterprise and it’s far vital to stay centred. We are constructing our e-book in the system…. So, sure, at the opportune time we will technique the RBI with our request (for a bank licence).”

Wadhawan stated with the aid of the stop of the cutting-edge financial yr, DHFL might go ₹1 lakh crore of property below control, which as of June-quit 2017 stood at ₹88,236 crore.

Title of Property and Housing Finance India

The economic reforms pursued by way of India almost two decades ago has resulted in the boom of many areas which can be necessities to an economic machine of the country. The financing is one place that has shown the extraordinary increase in the current time and is seen to play the main position in increase & improvement of Country.

The financial institution financing in the housing sector has completely modified the way immovable belongings are bought and acquired inside u . S .. It has definitely helped hitherto marginalised organisations in society to have access to and satisfy the goals of owning the assets which as a jurisprudential concept is as antique as the beginning of the formation of the social society some of the human types. An individual preference to personal some thing of its very own which he can use and experience to the exclusion of all others has been an essential proper identified by way of all felony systems across the globe.

The formal loan housing finance sector continues to elude the lower income businesses resulting from non-availability of clean identify, excessive transaction value and difficulties in risk assessment due to abnormal profits behaviours.

Credit marketplace is pivoted around mortgages. Creation of collaterals via manner of deposit of title deeds is the most not unusual technique employed inside the industry for its simplicity and fee effectiveness. Mortgage Deeds have duty implications and therefore an avoidable alternative in contrast to the former technique. Such essential problem of the absence of clear identity is preventing extra penetration of credit commercial enterprise throughout the marketplace. It is not simply affecting the housing credit commercial enterprise however additionally have a long way reaching outcomes. Even courts have considered the legality of the creation of equitable loan by way of deposit of legally infirm documents like letter of allotment, possession and so forth. However, opinion is split throughout various courts and the matter is now below attention earlier than the Hon’ble Supreme Court.

Therefore, there’s felt an essential need of virtually defining the rights of the humans in tangible objects in order to make certain that the men and women enjoy such rights with none confusion and to the exclusion of others. This offers upward thrust to a prison need to honestly outline the title within the residences owned by using people. The growth of credit marketplace in housing area largely depends upon how soon a prison and green gadget may be evolved to file and understand humans’ proper in the homes within the form of a clear name.

In India identify to properties may be claimed through individuals in diverse legally recognisable means. The maximum common and legally efficient way of saying the name in belongings is by way of owning a sale deed in one’s want but even such legally finished file is not free from competing claims made via others to the identity.

Such competing claims arise out of an inefficiently maintained system of recording land titles with the aid of the State controlled and run land registries whose inefficiency and corrupt practices have become an order of the day. It is common to note that even a duly registered sale deed is doubted with the aid of for its loss of authenticity and criminal competence to bring smooth titles. Such problem is due to fragmented land registries that don’t have real time get right of entry to other land registries to avoid more than one registrations. Even loop holes in registration legal guidelines are exploited with the aid of corrupt players to achieve a couple of registrations over the same assets by getting the registration affected inside the registry aside from wherein the property is located to keep away from detection.

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