The Day After

Hi everybody? Are you in the proper post-Thanksgiving position? Reclining on the couch with a pillow under your head and clutching a bottle of Tums in one fist, a beer in the other, and an icepack on your head, with crumbs from the feast and confetti in your favorite team's colors littering the floor?  Well, good!  I had fun too.

We had a proper Thanksgiving feast, and spent the afternoon begging friends and neighbors to come over and help dispose of the leftovers. We still have leftovers, now residing in the fridge and freezer. That freed us up to spend today talking with kids and grandkids in other parts of the world : Oklahoma, Texas, Delaware, Russia, and Israel. 

This is one of those days that makes me thankful for modern technology. The cell phone is a wonderful thing when you have one grandson serving in the US Air Force in Russia and another serving in the Israeli Air Force.  They are both fine, despite the current ongoing conflicts.  I have a grandnephew who is serving in the US Air Force in Afghanistan. The technology that threatens to overwhelm us at least keeps us in touch with our loved ones.

I deliberately did not attend a single Black Friday sale. My presents were all either bought months ago or will be made before Christmas rolls around. Didn't watch the Macy's parade, but will watch the Parade of Roses soon. Looking forward to it. How about you?

Big, important days!

Today, Monday, November 5th was a good day. We had lunch  at a little country diner we'd never been to before. The food was good, and the company was excellent. My daughter, my best friend, and I had gone to town to have my oil changed, and the tires rotated, all for $23.95. The place was crowded, the young man in charge only had two workers, so I made an appointment to come back another day. We ate at the diner, did a little grocery shopping, and came home.

Tomorrow, Monday, November 6th, will be a great day! A red, white, and blue letter day! Any election needs our votes. The election of the next President of the United States of America, makes it even more incumbent upon us to vote! As we say here in Illinois, vote early, and vote often! I don't care who you're voting for. I only care that you vote! I learned that from my grandfather, the same grandfather I referred to previously in my reviews of Zane Grey's biography of his ancestress, Betty Zane.  Grandaddy was the first member of his family born on American soil, and he consider voting not an honor, not a privilege, but a right and a duty!

! VOTE ! VOTE ! VOTE ! VOTE ! VOTE ! VOTE ! VOTE ! VOTE ! VOTE ! VOTE ! VOTE ! VOTE !

Thank you, Karen Mabry Rice

Is it Friday yet ?!?

Interesting day. Had big plans to do things in two towns where we have to shop, and some fun stuff in the village where we live. We got about half done, then agreed to come home, take a nap, and do nothing for the rest of the day. My daughter's only 49, and I'm "only" 70.  Did some evil god sneak in and make us old when we weren't looking?  What happened to the two "supermoms" who could go all day long on a pot of coffee and a couple of Danish?

One way or another, we get quite a bit done. I can still drink a pot of coffee, and sleep like a log all night, except for the two nightly visits to the restroom. I understand that's a common occurrence for senior citizens. Seni . . . what?!? I know I'm a citizen, I've read my birth certificate, and they always let me vote. But, senior? I've only been a senior twice in my life, once in 1960, and once in 1994. When did I get this latest elevated status? Guess I just wasn't paying attention.

Tomorrow I'll be busy looking things up. Do I still have proof of ownership for all the software to be uploaded on my new hard drive? Do I still have the receipt on my three-year-old tires, which entitles me to free rotation for the rest of their unnatural lives? I'll probably spend some of the time asking myself dumb questions. Like, why did I buy an extended warranty on a five-year-old car that had its first major breakdown three weeks after the warranty expired? Why did the computer chip that allows me to use my cruise control, cigarette lighter, auxiliary plug in for electronic goodies, and lord knows what else, quit working two months after the car was paid off? Do I give a shit? Why don't I just have another cup of coffee, and join my friend Jim's WGAS club in Hawaii? These, and other inane questions will probably plague my dreams tonight.

That's enough thrashing around for one thoroughly inauspicious Thursday.  Remember, tomorrow we can say, TGIF!


 

Happy Hallowe'en!

"Trick or Treat!" That's what the doctor who scheduled my daughter's first ever colonoscopy for today told her!  I like a doctor with a sense of humor.  It's been a great week so far - other than that.  

We are bearing down on the end of the dreaded process called "copy editing" without too much gnashing of teeth or pulling of hair -- shooting for a publication date of early next year.  Thus far, I've written 15 chapters of the sequel - which really stunk the first time I subbed it!  For now I've had to shelve my favorite project, an historical memoir of my grandparents' pioneering experiences in Arkansas, Oklahoma and Texas.

Now, let me get to the only reason I intended to blog this morning.  I want to recommend the best free writing workshop you'll ever find.  It's called the Internet Writing Workshop, and it's offered by Penn State University at absolutely no cost to you, except what you're willing to put into it!  I assure you there will be pulling of hair, gnashing of teeth, and the sacrifice of your babies!  I also assure you it is worth well more than the cost.

Trick or treat!
Karen

What is it with me and Sundays?

After last week's blues, I had a terrific week.  The sun shone all week.  We pulled up most of the tomato plants, which are still bearing like a hutch of rabbits, trimmed back the flower beds, and planted a number of perennials, which we - or whoever buys the house - will enjoy next year.  Didn't get as much done as I should have on the book.  Perhaps the weather is accommodating my lifestyle!

We're having another cold, dark, gloomy Sunday.  So far I've managed to send my copy editor fifteen edited chapters.  Looking forward to the week!  May yours be similarly blessed.

Today is Sunday

Today is anything you want it to be: a day in the sunshine, a day to rest, a day to work, a day to worship.  Today was going to be my day to shine and go to church.  I say was.  Today is cloudy, dreary, and rainy here.

Now it is my day to ache and experience the misery of arthritis, shuffling from bed to a rocker in front of the televison, desperately seeking relief from pain.  Knowing today is also a "must go to the grocery store" day, I'm not encouraged.  No sun in the forecast, only more rain,

My options are:  buy food and sink deeper into the blues.  I can't even work on the novel until my editor sends me the next batch of edits.  Oh, woe is me.  Back to bed.

From Walking on Air to the Mundane

Life is really full of exciting moments if you think about it.  Getting the contract was a big exciting moment.  This evening my daughter came in from watering our plants, and announced, "We must have a hundred tomatoes."  Then she conceded it was more like fifty tomatoes and fifty blooms.  Still, that's a lot.  We'll have tomatoes to share when they ripen.  Nothing like the year I did my first big garden .  I've always had flower beds and stuck a few tomato plants or squash plants here and there.  But the year my grandson was born, I finally decided to make use of my overly generous back yard and put in a 25 X40 foot garden.  We had corn, cucumbers, black-eyed peas, squash, bell peppers, sweet potatoes, and 48 tomato plants!  I had no idea they would produce so profusely!  For a while we were giving them to neighbors and co-workers in big, brown grocery bags.  We put up jars and jars of salsa.  Finally, at the end of the season, we were just chucking the surplus into the compost bin since friends were pleading, "No, thank you!"  This year Kristin and I are doing the flower bed method.  Even so, with only three Early Girls, two Marglobes, and what we thought was a Sweet 100 cherry tomato, but turned out to be a Pear tomato, we have more than enough.  We don't know if the Pear tomato is going to be yellow, orange, or red, but it's an heirloom variety that dates from the 1700s.  Kristin still wants a Sweet 100, but I'm looking forward to the Pear tomatoes.  Through the years, both my mom and I have grown antique roses and old varieties of iris and hollyhocks.  I've always intended to grow heirloom veggies, and this is my first year at it.  Although the Marglobe only dates back to 1917, it is still considered an heirloom.  If you love gardening, a tomato can be almost as exciting as a book contract.

A Great Day!

I've been dragging my feet about this for a month, and finally decided to take a leap.  Something special happened on May 10, and for a reason I'm not sure of, I've been dragging my feet about sharing it.  I wasn't sure if it was okay, or I was afraid to jinx the "good luck" - I'm not sure.  As a trained archaeologist, I shouldn't be superstitious, but I'll admit when the chips are down I knock on wood with the best of them.  At any rate, I received (and signed and returned) a contract for my novel Ghost Walk from 4RV Publishing.  I've sent them all the requisite material, photos, bio, etc., and now I'm waiting to be contacted by the editor assigned to me so we can begin the process of copy editing, and then - publication!!!  This is exciting, and I'm looking for the day I can say, "My book is for sale at . . . "

A Good Day

I consider it a good day when I can add a word to my vocabulary or a heretofore unknown (by me) fact to my knowledge base.  This is probably a silly notion, but today a simple article struck three notes in my brain.  While I love reading and writing fiction, I'm most likely to arrive at an epiphany through non-fiction.  For example, few things from fiction have left the impression on me that reading of Watson & Crick's discoveries of RNA and DNA did in the early sixties.

Today I opened the June issue of Nat Geo and discovered an interesting paragraph:
"Few objects seem as familiar as the sun - there it is up in the sky every sunny day - yet few are so strange. Look through a solar telescope, and the quotidian yellow disc is transformed into a dynamic wonderland, where planet-size prominences rise into black space like glowing jellyfish, only to loop and slither back hours or days later, as if enthralled by some unseen force."

First of all, thanks to my friend Ben, quotidian already existed in my vocabulary, a recent addition.  Second, while I didn't take Physics before the fourth state of matter was promulgated, I don't recall it being touched on in my very elemental physics class.  If I read about it when I read Asimov on Quantum Physics, it didn't stick with me, so I did add something knew to my knowledge base today.

Lastly, as writer, I couldn't help noticing two things about the paragraph.  One, for an introduction to a scientific article, it's incredibly poetic. Two, in light of recent discussions on our writing list about lengthy sentences, it is a very long sentence.  I've looked at it several times, several ways, and I see no way in which it would be improved by any abridgement.

A Week Away

My friend, Cindy remarked that daily blogging is not a sustainable hobby, and I must agree with her.  While I have the legit excuse of having been down with the flu, to be perfectly honest, I wouldn't have been blogging anyway.  Just didn't have anything to say.

I did finish the Zane Grey memoir about five days ago.  I have to be perfectly honest about it.  He spent two thirds of the book laying background, and, sad to say, much of his prose needed some serious de-purpling, especially as he built up the romance between the heroine and her future husband.  To be totally honest, I wouldn't have kept reading but for two things, my interest in writing a historical memoir because of my own book, and the fact that the foreword promised Betty Zane would perform an act of heroism that would contribute to the winning of the last battle of the American Revolution.  The last nine chapters were exciting, full of action, and very well written.  Betty Zane did indeed live up to her advance publicity.

I'm now slogging through Bluefeather Fellini.  If it doesn't get better soon, I won't finish it.

Right now I have a more important writing problem.  I'm twelve chapters into the sequel to my first novel, and not at all in control of the situation.  I've accused my characters of not liking the plot I constructed.  A very good critique from a friend whose writing I respect brought me up short and made me face the fact that I'm the one who doesn't like the plot.  So now I've got to decide, introduce the action of the original plot about six chapters earlier than planned, or write a new plot. Decisions, decisions, decisions!

Just Realized It's Friday the 13th.

I don't have triskaidekaphobia, and one of the things I supposedly learned when I became a scientist was to not be superstitious.  But aren't we all superstitious to some degree? Haven't you ever "knocked on wood" without thinking about the superstition behind it, or crossed your fingers at a crucial moment? When the chips are down, when humanity fails us, in a crisis, aren't we likely to haul out anything that might ameliorate the situation.  I remember seeing people carry rabbit's feet in my childhood, and many barn doors had a horseshoe on them.

In this age of technology, have you never kicked or thumped a mechanical object that is on the fritz, as a last, desperate measure?  And been surprised when it works.  I once had a highly trained computer tech tell me, "When all else fails, turn the damn thing off and let all the electricity drain off for at least a minute."  Well, I don't believe for a minute that electricity is going anywhere, but 9 times out of 10, it works!

When people name their children, whether after a rich uncle in hopes of being remembered in the will, or because the baby name book says a name means something special, isn't superstition at work? Superstition takes many forms in many cultures.  The old Germans used to say never throw your hair out the window when you clean your hairbrush, because if a bird found it and used it to build a nest you would get headaches.  When a traditional Navajo walks over the track of a rattlesnake, they shuffle their feet to avoid offending the snake.  Many modern athletes are addicted to lucky hats or lucky shirts  or repetitive behaviors they believe gave them luck in the past.


In past decades, there were only a few choice spots one could go to gamble in the U.S., notably Las Vegas and Atlantic City.  In recent years Native American casinos have burgeoned in every state.  Gamblers are indeed a superstitious lot, so there must be a concomitant rise in superstitious behavior.


If I had a point when I started this ramble, I don't remember what it is now.  I suppose what I meant to say was, so we're all a little superstitious, and some of us are very superstitious.  Where's the harm?  If it makes life flow more smoothly, practice whatever little trick works for you.  Happy Friday the 13th!

 

Spring Is Here ?

To quote the Cowardly Lion (the movie version, not Baum's) "Unusual weather we're havin', ain't it?"  After a number of record high days in the 80s in March and early April, the Midwest was plunged into a cold snap last night.  I rarely watch the weather, but I'm glad I did this time.  I had 11 tomato plants, 2 cucumber vines and a wisteria bush I had planned to get into the ground.  Today I'd be looking at their black, withered little corpses, because we hit 33 last night, what used to be called a "killing frost."   Hmmm, I think I just found the title of my next book!

 Interesting how weather can be benign one moment and very malign in the next.  Today was not only benign, it was downright beneficent.  Clear sunny skies, birds hopping about flirting, flitting, and nest building.  And flowers - everywhere, flowering shrubs and trees like azalea, forsythia, pear and quince.  And those other harbingers of spring nodding in the breeze, tulips, grape hyacinths, and daffodils.  Roses and Iris budding and blooming in many colors.  It was a great day to be out and about.  And tomorrow my plants will go in the ground in hopes of a free watering from the promised weekend rains.

 

 

Day Three - what shall I write about!?!

I can see why blogging is the perfect exercise for a writer.  You must write, even if you have nothing to say!  April 11 is sort of a nemesis day for me.  Fifty-one years ago it was one of the worst days of my life.  I've never celebrated it, tried hard to forget it.  Today I had brief hopes something good would happen to turn it into a day I would remember with happiness.  My house was shown for the second time since I put it on the market.

Last time the house was shown, back in January I think, I was so excited I almost started packing for Oklahoma.  The let down when no offer came was heart wrenching.  I know it's a lousy market, but my hopes were sky high.  This time I refuse to have any expectations.  It was discombobulating enough when the call came at noon, "Can we show your house at three?"  Daughter and I cleaned house like a couple of whirlwinds, no small feat since I'm recovering from back surgery and she had a crick in her neck!  We barely got out the door before they showed up.  Now the waiting begins.

I have a like situation in my writing.  Nothing is going right.  With my first novel, I simply wrote it.  I did the synopsis and outline afterward, because I had to have them to submit to a publisher.  This time, I decided to do it right.  At least outline the plot first.  Apparently the drawback to having created good, strong characters is that if they don't like your damn plot they're not going to go along with it!  I'm mired down in three chapters that are going absolutely nowhere.  These characters are dragging their feet, lollygagging about the house, refusing to jump in and get down to the business of putting themselves in harm's way.  

So, what to do? Do I jump ahead and write the chapter that forces the action to begin?  Do I dump those three chapters and try a new tack?  Do I rewrite the plot and hope it will make my stubborn characters happy?  Or do I do what every writer eventually does?  Procrastinate!  Procrastinate until the jello in my head turns to concrete?  Procrastinate until something happens, good or bad?  Of course, all this insanity is taking place in my head, so sooner or later (probably later, knowing me) I will have to face the situation and wrestle it into something manageable. 

Happy writing, out there!

Sleepless in De Soto

Here I am at past 3 a.m., finding myself unable to sleep due to a bad back.  Sometimes that's the writer's curse, sometimes their friend.  So I've returned to ramble - er, blog!  I had intended a long discourse on two books I'm reading, but lo and behold, I've had two visitors!  One, a friend and fellow writer from two groups, not only commented, she threw me a techno-challenge.  She says if I can find the little widget that allows people to follow me, she will do so.  The other, a nice person from India named Joomla, said the same thing.  I've always thought of myself as a leader, therefore I must have followers, right?  I must rise to the occasion for Kareen & Joomla.  So, you will only get a short blab, uh blob, uh blog ( ! ) about the books and I shall go on a techno-hunt!

The books, picked up at my fave second hand store, have lain around gathering dust for some time.  Funny this should be the month I'd pick them both up to read.  The first is "Betty Zane" by Zane Grey.  For the young and uninitiated, Zane Grey was a famous writer of westerns which often found their way to the silver screen.  He was probably best known for "Riders of the Purple Sage" and was denigrated by the critics of his day for his purple prose.  


Well, guess what folks?  My grandad was a real cowboy who knew the likes of Geronimo, Quanah Parker, Bat Masterson, and Wyatt Earp.  He made several comments on those good folk that proved to be quite true when the historical facts were allowed to override the myth.  He was friends with Geronimo until the old man died and had business dealings with Quanah in his capacity as ranch foreman.  He said both were good and noble men who did what they did to protect their people.  This at a time when both men were still being portrayed by the popular media as bloody savages. 
He had no use for the myths about Earp, having watched at the age of 10, while Earp beat one of his fellow cowboys to a bloody pulp on Front Street in Dodge City.  The kindest thing he would say about Masterson was that he was a "whoremaster."  

Despite having left school at age 8, Grandaddy loved to read.  His favorite author?  Zane Grey.  He said the man told it like it really was.  When at long last introduced to that 20th Century marvel, television, in the 1950s, the only western Grandaddy would watch was "Rawhide."  He said it was realistic, the others so much horse manure.  

So, what's the point - at least for me?  I'm writing an historical memoir of Grandmother & Grandaddy's pioneering days in Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Texas.  I started subbing first to a fiction writing group, then to a non-fiction writing group.  Both groups clamored for more action, more plot & made-up dialogue. In disgust, I pulled it from both groups.

And how does Zane Grey's book bear on this?  In several ways.  When I picked the book up, I assumed it was a biography of Grey by his wife or daughter.  Upon closer examination, I discovered it was an historical memoir of his ancestress from the American Revolution, Betty Zane.  Like most people (not just writers) of his day, Grey had a big vocabulary and wasn't afraid to use it.  The book has no real plot, other than Betty was born, she lived, and she died, with lots of adventures along the way.  And last, but not least, there is a LOT of conversation going on in that book. I know Grey wasn't privy to any of it, and I know his ancestors didn't hand it down verbatim.  He did have one old, moldy, partially burned journal to work from.  So, yeah, the man invented dialogue!

I'm not going to let it bother me that my book doesn't have any more of a plot than Grey's does, but the light has come on in two important areas.  I've "dumbed" myself down to fit in today's society.  It's time to whip out my excellent vocabulary and use it to the benefit of my characters.  And, I can and will invent dialogue, so long as it's necessary to the story, and appropriate to the time period.  

The second book is "Bluefeather Fellini" by Max Evans.  I confess I was simply attracted by the artwork on the cover when I picked it up.  I'd heard the name Max Evans in connection with Westerns, but wasn't sure where or how.  Well, to begin with, Bluefeather Fellini is half northern Tiwa Indian/half Italian. Having made friends at the Taos Pueblo and been taken to see places no whites had been allowed to go before during my archaeological field school, I was immediately entranced.  Then I discovered Max wrote "The Rounders," which, when made into a movie with Henry Fonda and Glen Ford, I can assure you is both funny and authentic, having spent a lot of time around beat up old bronc busters in my youth.  Finally, this book was highly recommended by my former acquaintance and mentor, the late Tony Hillerman.  'Nuff said!  I'll let you know if it lives up to the hype.  I'm only 7 pages in, being highly focused on the Zane Grey thing right now.


So off I go to see if I can find that widget thingamajig!
   

Welcome to my World!

I have nothing erudite to say.  I cannot pontificate on how to write.  I just do it.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.  A number of  my writer friends are doing the A to Z Blog Challenge.  Perhaps I'll try to catch up to them tomorrow, perhaps not.  I'm nothing if not a procrastinator!