Happy Birthday

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I love birthdays. I may not want to tell you how many candles are on my cake, but I love the concept of celebrating another year of living. Comes from my childhood when my Mom, the original Evelyn, would let me invite every kid in my class for my party, with little paper cups filled with candies at each place setting. We played pin the tail on the donkey, opened the presents, ate the cake, and everyone went home fuller and happier.

But better than celebrating my own birthday, I love making merry for family and friends. I know that at times during my kids’ childhoods, I was tempted to work out a deal with the party guests: I meet you at the car with a cupcake and goody bag, you fork over the gift and we call it a day. But that was my occasional cynical side popping out of hiding.

The truth is I’m a sucker for kids’ birthday parties: the themes, the cake that complements the theme, the party activities, even the goody bag items. I remember baking a cake in the shape of a soccer ball for my goalie seven year old, then having the kids play a game of soccer in the local park. Treat items were all English football related. For another of my kids, I made a Pac-Man cake with little ghosts; and for a special two year old party, I created a Big Bird cake whose feathers were sliced up lemon Chuckles candies.

So after four kids and countless parties, I thought I knew the scoop on entertaining the under-8 set. If they had a little too much sugar, I was reassured by the knowledge that their parents would have to deal with them, because birthday parties were limited to 90 minutes – tops.

Little did I realize that there is now a whole industry devoted to kids birthday parties – and the amounts to be made at these shindigs is almost enough for me to give up this writing gig. A recent report from ABC News, described the over-the-top birthday party Tori Spelling gave for her son’s third birthday. Now given that Tori grew up in Spelling Manor, the largest home in Los Angeles County with 123 rooms, I am not surprised that the concept of “less is more” is not on Tori’s radar screen.

But apparently there are enough “normal” folks that are going bonkers and broke over their kids’ parties that there is now a new TLC reality show called, appropriately, “Outrageous Kids Parties.” One set of parents threw a fairytale party for their little six-year-old princess. Hey, I can imagine this. What I can’t conceive of is the 42 center pieces, 2000 flowers, 300 costumes, and a spa day for the six year old before the party. Budget for this extravaganza? $32,000.

I got married for less. What are these parents planning for the seventh birthday – skydiving for the class in Hawaii? Is there no sense of proportion? Any concept that such excess teaches every self-centered lesson in the book? That even if you have the money to afford such stupidity, you need to have the good sense not to spend it this way.

I don’t need to tell you, Stiletto Faithful, that this is foolish, almost immoral in terms of waste. We all want to create lovely memories for our kids – and even for ourselves. I still feel good about those special days in our kids lives. But we know that racing up and down a makeshift soccer field with ten friends, then blowing out the candles and sitting around with these same friends telling bathroom jokes as only a seven year old can enjoy – those are the memories that last and warm you even when there are ten times the number of candles on the cake.

Marian, the Northern Half of Evelyn David

Brianna Sullivan Mysteries – e-book series
I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Dog Days of Summer in Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Holiday Spirit(s) of Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Undying Love in Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

The Sullivan Investigation Series
Murder Drops the Ball (Spring 2011)
Murder Takes the Cake- Paperback – Kindle
Murder Off the Books- Paperback – Kindle
Riley Come Home (short story)- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

Oscars 2011

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by Maria Geraci

This Sunday night is the 83rd annual Academy Awards which means I’ll be sitting in front of my television with a bag of popcorn in one hand and a diet coke in another. Or maybe instead of the diet coke it’ll be a glass of red wine. I’m not sure yet. It’ll depend on my mood.

I’m not a celebrity hound nor do I watch the gazillions of award shows that surround the “big show” but I’m a sucker for the Oscars and have been ever since I was a little girl. Maybe it’s because I’m a frustrated actress or because I love movies. Or maybe it’s because I love the gowns. And the shoes. And the hair styles. And the speeches. And the big musical numbers. Or a combination of all the above.

This year’s show will be hosted by Anne Hathaway and James Franco. Have you seen the commercials? They’re really playing it up. Young Hollywood does the Oscars. I think it’s going to be great. My favorite movies this year were Toy Story 3 (I cried like a baby!), The Social Network, and The King’s Speech (which I think should win Best Picture). I absolutely loved Colin Firth and hope he wins his first Oscar. The Brits in my opinion, always give the best speeches and I’m sure he won’t disappoint.

Over the years I’ve collected my personal best and worst moments.


Best Oscar Speech: Roberto Benigni for Life is Beautiful (in which he jumped on top of his seat when his name was called) also BEST OSCAR MOMENT EVER!
Worse Oscar Speech: Julia Roberts for Erin Brokavich (in which she failed to mention the real Erin Brokavich and “ordered” the orchestra to stop playing when they tried to interrupt her because she’d gone over her time limit).

Best Host: Billy Crystal
Worst Host: David Letterman (Oprah Uma, anyone?)

Best Dress: Anything Penelope Cruz, Nicole Kidman or Halle Berry wear
Worst Dress: Anything Diane Keaton wears

Best Jokes: Billy Crystal, Steve Martin. Whoopi Goldberg
Worst Jokes: David Letterman

Best Star for the camera to “catch” in the audience: Jack Nickolson

Best Star in a tux: Hugh Jackman (drool)

Strangest/Funniest Moment: Jack Palance doing his one armed push ups and saying that he poops turds bigger than Billy Crystal (probably not his exact words, but you get the drift).

Most Awkward Moment: Jennifer Aniston presenting at the podium with Brangelina sitting in the front row.

How about you? Are you going to watch? What are some of your favorite or worst moments?

When a Sandwich Board is All You Have Left

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I read a story in the paper this morning about a mother in Florida who, fed up with her 15-year-old son’s disinterest in school, took a drastic measure to get his attention. She placed the kid on a busy street corner with a sandwich board over his head that said: “I have a 1.22 GPA…honk if you think I need an education.”

While some people applauded her last-ditch effort to set the kid on the straight and narrow, others called Child Protective Services to report her abuse of the young man.

I have to tell you, when I read the article, I had to chuckle, because as the mother of two kids, I, too, have looked for creative ways to get their attention.

Don’t get me wrong, my kids do great in school, particularly child #1, who is now looking at colleges and knows that she has to keep her grades up if she has any chance of going to some of the more competitive colleges in the country. But, as many of the moms on this blog will attest, when your kids get older, your issues with them get more complicated and it takes every last ounce of energy you have to stick to your guns and to keep them moving in the right direction. It is very easy to just give up and let them do what they want, but we all know what happens when we let the inmates run the asylum.

It’s anarchy, I tell you.

It is true what they say: “little children, little problems; big children, big problems.” I think all of us, at some point when our children are small, look at someone else’s parenting style and think “I would never do it that way.” Really? Wait until you get there. I remember when child #1 was a baby and I thought I would never lose my temper with her, raise my voice to her, or punish her. Then came the terrible twos, followed by the temper-tantrum threes, and the feisty fours. Let’s not get started on five through seven. You find yourself doing things you never imagined. For instance, child lays down on floor of the bank and refuses to move; there are eight people behind you on line. What do you do? Leave her there or laugh in embarrassment as you pick her up by the scruff of the neck like a mother cat, dragging her out kicking and screaming? Either way, she’s going into therapy first chance she gets (and her health insurance allows for free visits) so you’re doomed. My plan of attack was always to pretend I didn’t notice what was happening or that I didn’t know her, because you know that there is someone behind you tut-tutting about your parenting skills. Usually, they don’t have kids, or their kids are older than you and they have forgotten what it is like to confront a hungry toddler who acts like they are a protester during the Vietnam era. (You know what I mean…you go to pick them up and they go slack. It’s an effective protest technique whether you weigh thirty-two pounds or a hundred and thirty-two pounds.)

The problems, discussions, and issues only get more complicated as the kids get older. Apparently, as well, “EVERYONE else’s parents are letting them do it.” Like I believe that one. Yes, many parents in our small village are more permissive than we are…ok, every set of parents in our small village is more permissive than we are…but that doesn’t mean that in our middle-age we are going to succumb to peer pressure. We make decisions based on what is right for a particular child at a particular time. And sometimes that means that a particular child is not doing what other children are doing. Them’s the breaks, as they say.

But back to the lady in Florida. Judge lest you yourself be judged. She’s got a 15-year-old who won’t do his homework, won’t go to school, and probably has a one-way ticket to a life of heartache and trouble if this behavior continues. I have to say, not being in her shoes, I’m not sure what I would do, but if the sandwich board of embarrassment were my last resort, I might resort to it.

What do you think, Stiletto faithful?

Maggie Barbieri

A Different Time

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When I read my fellow Stiletto gang’s posts I am often reminded of the big generational gap between us. The majority are near the age of my children and at least one is closer to the age of my grandchildren.

I grew up in a different time period. Though I didn’t grow up in a small town–Los Angeles is where I lived the first eighteen years of my life–things were certainly different than they are now. Oh, the same dangers were out there–murderers, thieves, child molesters–but I don’t think our parents thought about those people.

When we went off to play, we really didn’t have to say exactly where that would be. The only rule in my house was I had to be home by 5 because that was supper time. And yes, we always ate dinner together–my dad, mom, and sister and ever so often a guest or two. When it was just our family we ate at a small table at the end of the kitchen. For more classy dinners, we ate in our dining room–but that wasn’t often.

I wandered all over the neighborhood–especially during the summer–to find someone to play with. I did not call my mom and tell her where I was nor did she expect it. Sometimes I rode my bike and found a nice front yard with a big weeping willow tree and settled myself in to read or write or draw. Why the homeowner didn’t come out and ask me what I was doing, I have no idea.

When my cousin and I were ten years old we begged to go downtown by ourselves. To do this we had to ride the bus and transfer to a streetcar. If I remember correctly, this didn’t cost much more than a dime, even with the transfer. Yes, our moms let us. However, the first time we learned later that, they followed us on the very next bus and street car. We’d been given orders that we could only shop on one block on Broadway, between 5th and 6th Streets. That was okay, there was the Broadway Dept. Store on one corner and somewhere in between a great five-and-dime. For $1.00 we could buy all sorts of treasures. We followed the rule, and after that traveled downtown without the shadows.

When I was 10 I babysat in other people’s homes. My first job was with five little ones. (3 family’s offsprings together.) I heated bottles, rocked babies–but I never once thought to change a diaper. Once I took care of a girl the same age as me who was developmentally disabled. I had to wrestler her to get her into her p.j.s and into bed. I was paid 50 cents for three hours of very hard work. I never went back.

My friends and I would hike in the hills behind my house. (At that time it was an undeveloped area–no houses and hobos had encampments in gullies.) There was a water reservoir at the very top of the hill. Today that area is now the Glendale Freeway. When I was in high school, I’d cut through the hills to take a shorter way to school rather than riding the bus and streetcar which seemed to take forever. It still was a long walk and I sometimes did it by myself.

As a young teen, my friends and I rode the bus, the streetcar and another streetcar to get to the beach during the summer. Sometimes we accepted rides home with boys we met at the beach. (Not sure if our parents were aware we did this.)

My girlfriends and I often took the bus and streetcar to go to downtown L.A. to the movies and special programs put on by the department stores–in fact we got to see Frank Sinatra before he was so famous at the May Co.

Frankly, our mothers had to work so hard I don’t think they had time to worry about us. My mom did have one of the first automatic washing machines but she still had to hang clothes up outside to dry and iron everything. I remember she even had a mangle to iron all the sheets and pillowcases. She even ironed my dad’s shirts on it.

Anything we baked (yes, my sis and I did a lot of baking) had to be made from scratch. There was no such thing as mixes. No microwaves, no prepared food.

I even remember the first Ralph’s grocery store–at first it was in a big tent. What I don’t remember is where we shopped for food before that.

We went to Sunday School and church and to youth group on Sunday night. Sometimes I walked home from there by myself–and it was at least two miles. Sometimes we spent the rest of Sunday at my grandparents in South Pasadena or we’d travel over the hill to visit my Aunt and Uncle and my four boy cousins.

Mother loved sales, so we went to sales downtown and to smaller stores nearby. It wasn’t a good experience, the women acted horrible snatching things from one another. I don’t like sales to this day.

When I was a teen we spent our summer vacations at Bass Lake. My dad let me drive our outboard motor boat wherever I wanted, long before I ever knew how to drive a car. We made friends fast and always had a group to hang out with and we went all over that lake.

I could go on, but I think that’s enough to make my point. I definitely grew up in a different time.

Marilyn

When All the World is Protesting….

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Is it just me or is everything in the world spinning and changing so fast it’s almost impossible to keep up? I’m exhausted.

Dictatorships are falling in large part to their citizens’ use of Facebook and Twitter to organize protests. Egyptians have toppled their government. The world is holding its collective breath as we wait for the next despot to be exiled, holding out hope that the end result will be better than the original. Libya? Bahrain? Iran? What country will be next? What will the world look like next year?

Proposed deep budget cuts in the U.S. federal government and state government services are going to affect all U.S. citizens. Congress is setting up for a government shutdown unless compromise can be accomplished. The protests in Wisconsin over budget cuts are only the first for state governments. The state agency I work for in Oklahoma is facing consolidation with another agency and massive budget cuts if our newly elected Republican Governor has her way with a Republican majority house and senate. I think her chances are pretty good! Citizens will have to decide if they really want the changes that are coming. Yes, elections have consequences. I’m just not sure everyone understood how the changes would affect them personally.

Because of my day job for a state agency I’m acutely aware that President Obama has just this past year geared up federal environmental agencies for a massive change in the interpretation of existing environmental laws. His new policies would open the door for direct federal enforcement of those new interpretations, ignoring state laws and programs. The result of the direct enforcement would be massive loss of jobs and industry. The states are pushing back, reminding the federal government that they can’t change laws or create new laws via policy statements. But so far they’ve turned a blind eye and deaf ear to our protests and attempts to reason with them. The whole issue is heading for court. In the midst of this battle, suddenly the President creates a new White House working group to protect jobs from unnecessary federal regulations. He wants to reduce regulations that stifle business. What the [insert appropriate curse word] is going on? The President needs to learn what his right hand and his left hand are doing.

Oh, by the way, Happy Presidents Day! Sigh.

Before the year is over we’ll know what government services are really important to us. The public libraries that survive over the next five years will do so because they find additional sources of funding and attract new users. They will have to add more digital content, e-readers, and many more computers. Public schools? I’m not sure what they are going to do. Class sizes will increase, teachers will be laid off, and kids won’t have desks, chairs, or books.

Brick and mortar bookstores are disappering. You might not be able to find a bookstore in your favorite mall. The local independents are hanging on by a thread. The publishing giants are rushing to accommodate the ebook revolution as authors self-publish their own books via electronic platforms at Amazon, Barnes&Noble, and Smashwords. I was speaking with a friend who collects first editions and autographed books. She wonders if the next generation will find any value in her old fashioned “print” book collections.

And of course on top of all the other turmoil, there’s the weather. Should I mention the crazy weather? Everyone has had some this year. This month Oklahoma went from a normal 6 or 7 inches a year to 20-some odd inches of snow in a two day span. Then the weather flip flopped with one town registering a -20 F. (actual temperature not wind chill) to a week later registering a very muddy 80 F.

I don’t know what everyone else is going to do, but this seems like the perfect time to escape to the more rational world of fiction. I’m going to read, write, and hope next year is, if not better, at least calmer.

Rhonda
aka The Southern Half of Evelyn David

Brianna Sullivan Mysteries – e-book series
I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Dog Days of Summer in Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Holiday Spirit(s) of Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Undying Love in Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

The Sullivan Investigation Series
Murder Drops the Ball (Spring 2011)
Murder Takes the Cake- Paperback – Kindle
Murder Off the Books- Paperback – Kindle
Riley Come Home (short story)- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

Books from the Heart

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by Susan McBride

I’m kind of in a crunch this week with revisions for LITTLE BLACK DRESS due Friday (as you’re reading this!). So I’m going to make this easy on myself by rehashing a book talk segment I did for “Great Day St. Louis” on Valentine’s Day.

Since love is in the air this month, I discussed four “romantic reads,” all dealing with the topic of home and heart in different ways. Only one, ANGEL’S REST by Emily March, is considered a traditional romance while the other three are novels with romantic elements–THE GIRL WHO CHASED THE MOON by Sarah Addison Allen, THE OTHER LIFE by Ellen Meister, and THE BOYFRIEND OF THE MONTH CLUB by Stiletto Ganger Maria Geraci (yay!).

In ANGEL’S REST, Nic Sullivan is a small-town veterinarian with a broken heart. She’s divorced and semi-happily single until she rubs shoulders with hunky Gabe Callahan, a loner escaping past tragedy by hiding out in the mountains. Serious sparks fly between the two, only–sigh–their pasts and the things they don’t/can’t talk about, keep them apart. It takes a bit of angelic intervention to bring them together.

THE GIRL WHO CHASED THE MOON is Sarah Addison Allen’s third book after GARDEN SPELLS and THE SUGAR QUEEN (and her fourth, THE PEACH KEEPER, is out next month). If you haven’t read her Southern tales of home and heartache, you should. She writes beautiful prose that sucks you in, and in MOON, she gets us wrapped up in the life of a teenager, Emily Benedict, who goes back to her mother’s hometown of Mullaby, NC, to meet her grandfather and find out the dark secret that drove her mom away.

Ellen Meister’s THE OTHER LIFE is a tale of two lives, both of them belonging to Quinn Braverman. In one, she’s a wife and mother in the Long Island suburbs, awaiting the birth of her second baby and missing her deceased mother. In the other life, she’s got a high profile career and a high profile beau, a shock jock like Howard Stern, and, most importantly to Quinn, her mom is still alive and kicking. She can go back and forth to each life through a portal in her basement wall. But once the portal begins to close, she has to make a choice or risk getting caught in a life she might not want after all. (Just optioned by HBO for a TV series!)

In Maria’s BOYFRIEND OF THE MONTH CLUB, a cheating boyfriend and a really awful first date lead Grace O’Bryan to forgo the book club and start a “Boyfriend of the Month Club” with her friends. Like most things in life that we start for fun and giggles, this club turns into more than Grace bargained for. She’s got her heart in the right place, and she finally finds a man worthy of it, too!

Here’s the video in case you want to hear each summary like I’m talking to you right from your computer:


I recently did an informal poll on my Facebook page, asking friends what their favorite romantic books of all-time are, and the top five results:

1. GONE WITH THE WIND
2. PRIDE AND PREJUDICE
3. WUTHERING HEIGHTS
4. THE THORN BIRDS
5. THE TIME TRAVELER’S WIFE

Do you agree? If not, what’s your fave? Inquiring minds want to know! (At least, this one does.) 🙂

What can we do to save bookstores?

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I woke up yesterday morning to the news that Borders had finally done what everyone in the publishing industry knew was inevitable. The company filed for bankruptcy. They are also planning to cut 200 of their stores nationwide.
Go ahead, call me a weenie, or maybe just pre-menopausal, but I couldn’t help but feel my eyes water up. And it’ s not just because that as a writer, I’m petrified of what’s happening in publishing right now.
One of my most favorite things to do in the whole world is visit bookstores. I rank buying books above shopping for clothes, purses, perfume and yes, even shoes (hopefully this admission will not get me kicked out of the Stiletto gang!) But with bookstores closing right and left, the days of walking into a bookstore, buying a cup of designer coffee and gleefully perusing the aisles may soon be gone. Amazon and the ballooning ebook industry is doing to bookstores what WalMart (and please believe me, I have nothing personal against WalMart) did to mid level grocery stores and small mom and pop shops against the country. It’s putting them out of business. This a conundrum I have no idea how to solve.
I love my e-reader (yes, it’s a Kindle) and I spend more money at Amazon than my husband would like me to. I also spend a lot of money in brick and mortar bookstores. But like a lot of writers and people who read heavily, I’m probably in the minority on this. I really can’t blame someone for opting to buy a book online for 9.99 with free shipping and handling from the comfort of their home vs. getting in their car and using their precious gasoline to purchase the same book for a couple of dollars more at a store (which may or may not even stock the book).
Last October, I attended the Novelists, Inc. one day conference on the future of publishing in St. Petersburg. There were some really big names on the panel and the discussions were eye-opening to say the least. The bottom line was that publishing is in a huge state of change right now. Publishing houses are scrambling to keep up with the e-pub phenomena. E-publishing is to us what the advent of the printing press was in it’s time. We know we’re in for some big changes, but everyone is unclear how those changes are going to effect everyone else.
As one little person against the tide of change, my hope is that, whatever happens, people keep buying books in whatever form they come in. But I hope there will still be places (real, physical locations) that people can go to and talk to one another in person about books and peruse aisles to see fabulous covers and touch a page with their own hands. I can’t save the world but I can recycle and pick up my own trash. I probably can’t save all the bookstores, but I can continue to patronize my local store and buy books in person.

On a happier note, this is my first post as a bona fide member of the Stiletto Gang and I would like to thank the rest of the gang members, Susan, Evelyn, Maggie, Rachel and Marilyn for inviting me to be a part of this fabulous group. I promise, my next post won’t be so serious.

Hasta luego!

Maria

What? Me Worry?

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I was reading a magazine yesterday morning and worrying about how much I had to face once I got to my office when I was confronted with an article on living longer. The article listed several key things one could do to live a longer life but one point in particular struck me. It said—get this—that people who live longer fret occasionally. Apparently, too much optimism can leave you unequipped to deal with the worst possible scenarios that you might encounter in your life. “A little worry,” the article says, “keeps you warmed up for the curveballs life throws.”

See? I knew I was on the right track.

I wouldn’t say that I’m a constant worrier but I do have moments when worrying consumes so much of my brain power that I need to use specific coping mechanisms to stop. There are a few things I remind myself when I get to worrying:

1. Worrying won’t change the outcome. There have been times when I’ve been so consumed with worry, e.g. a test will reveal more disease, a deadline will be blown, someone I love may have an accident in icy weather, that I can’t get out of my own way mentally. Worry just consumes me, eats me up, so to speak. When that happens, I tell myself that whatever is going to happen will happen whether or not I worry; I have no control over the situation. This takes some mental energy, and sometimes it works, other times…not so much.

2. I should set aside a few minutes each day to worry. Someone once told me that if I was consumed by worry, I should set aside a time—say eight o’clock in the morning—and set a timer for fifteen minutes during which time I should worry about the things that concern me. After the timer goes off, the worrying stops. There are a few problems with that plan. First, I don’t own a timer. And second, I don’t have the mental fortitude to put my problems or concerns out of my head after a set period of time. I learned that while doing the ostensibly mind-clearing exercise of yoga. Not going to happen.

3. Worrying is a giant waste of time. Now this is a coping strategy I can get behind. Why? Well, I’m what is called in scientific circles a “Type-A personality.” (In regular circles, I’m just a hyper lunatic.) When I thought about all of the times I worried about a particular situation, only to have my feared outcome never come to fruition, I calculated that I had wasted approximately a year of my life worrying about things that turned out just fine. Or didn’t turn out at all. Or had become completely irrelevant by the time there was an outcome to note. Wasting time is a concept I can get behind and when I think of wasting precious time when I could be doing something constructive or positive, I seem to stop worrying immediately.

Right now, I’m worried that a book I’m working on for my day job won’t get to the printer in time. Or that my daughter won’t do as well as she wants to. Or that my son will get hurt playing lacrosse. But then I remind myself that if the book doesn’t make it to the printer on the day it’s supposed to, it will probably go the week after. And that my daughter has been working day and night to make sure she’s prepared for the “big test.” And that my son wears so many pads while playing lacrosse that it’s amazing he can move at all. See? Worrying is a giant waste of time.

Any other champion worriers out there in Stiletto land? If so, what do you do to stop yourself from biting your nails to the quick, chewing the inside of your mouth raw, or grinding your teeth?

Maggie Barbieri

My Valentine

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Lest you think I’m so old I’ve forgotten about all the romance in my life, I thought I’d go back to the beginning.

This is how my hubby looked back when I met him on our blind date. A girlfriend had called and said she and a bunch of kids were going out, but a date was needed for a sailor, would I be interested? I was a senior in high school and certainly thought I could do as I pleased and said, “yes.” I left a note just saying I was going on a blind date–no other info.

The group that was going out started walking in my direction and I in theirs. We probably lived about 3 miles away from one another. My two girlfriends and their older sister all showed up with servicemen in uniform, another sailor and I believe a Marine and soldier. The extra was cute as could be, but a bit on the drunk side. I’d never seen anyone who was drunk before, but I didn’t worry about it. We headed back in the direction of my friends’ but when we reached the streetcar tracks, we all boarded one heading for downtown L.A. We ended up in a Chinese restaurant where they had a live band and dancing.

Unfortunately, my date said he didn’t know how to dance. (He really didn’t, but after we married I taught him and he became a better dance than I ever was.) The other fellows in the party all took pity on me and asked me to dance–each one saying they were sorry that my date was such a dud.

Of course as time went on, my sailor (whom I soon learned was a Seabee) sobered up and began talking more. By the time we got back to my friends’ house, we’d learned a lot about one another. My date was going to school at the Port Hueneme Seabee Base and had hitch hiked to L.A. for some fun. He’d run into the other military fellows who’d brought him along to my friend’s.

My friend said her mom would take me home–but she never showed up and it started getting really late–way past midnight. Of course I didn’t even think to call home. My date and walked back to my house. Lights blazed which meant my parents were waiting for me. I’ll say they were. After the initial interrogation, I introduced my blind date and asked if he could spend the night.

Mom conferred with my dad in the kitchen. We heard him holler, “Who? Do what?”

Next we were brought into the kitchen where my blind date was interrogated by my father. One question I remember was, “Are you a Christian, boy?” Blind date’s answer, “I’m a Methodist, does that count?”

To make this story a bit shorter, blind date who I now called Hap was given a blanket and pillow and put in the den on the couch. He came to our house every weekend, except when he had the duty. He spent a lot of time with my dad who was working on a boat in the garage. He went along with us when the boat was taken out in the ocean the first time.

Most of our time was spent on family outings, but once in awhile we went on a real date to a movie. It was on one of these “real dates” that he proposed.

At the time I was 17 and Hap was 20. In California at the time, the female had to be 18 and the male 21 to get married without the parents’ permission. We were not given permission. Hap finished his schooling and was sent back to Norfolk VA. Before he left, Mom promised if he got overseas orders, she’d see that I got back East to marry him.

It wasn’t long before I received a call that the overseas orders had come through. Mom kept her promise and we traveled by train back to Washington DC and Hap met us and took us to his family’s home. We were married by his minisiter in the parsonage on the next weekend. Mom cried when she left me behind.

There were lots of hard times after that–and plenty of good ones. The marriage survivied despite everyone’s predictions of disaster, we had five children, and to date, eighteen grandkids and eleven great-grands. We’ll celebrate 60 years of marriage this coming October.

And that’s the story behind my Valentine.

Marilyn

The Takeaway

/in /by


Ten days ago, I spent the morning at The Tuckahoe Public Library. It’s been months since I gave one of my library talks – and I’d forgotten just how much fun they can be. For authors, what could be better than to be with readers who both enjoy the mystery genre and are eager to understand the creative process? It’s an honor and privilege to share what I’ve learned in writing.

And inevitably, I learn as much, if not more, than my audience. They share their favorite books, as well as what they don’t like about books they’ve read and found wanting. This group of about 10 should get a special shout-out because they braved frigid weather and icy streets to come to this discussion. I found it interesting that only one person in the group had a Kindle, and in fact, another had been gifted with one and then re-gifted it to her son within a few weeks.

Even as Rhonda and I have been busy cannonballing into the deep end of the e-book pool, this was an important reminder that not everyone is so eager to give up the heft and feel of a print book. Yes, it’s undoubtedly generational. A recent New York Times article revealed that many preteens are now proud owners of e-book readers and that the market for YA e-books is literally exploding. Perhaps it will take longer for the older generation (and heck, I’m one of them!), to embrace the technology, but I suspect it will be sooner rather than later, if only because it means that the reader can enlarge the typeface of all books. If I were one of the publishers of Books in Large Print, I’d be worried about the future direction of my company.

The conversation that morning inevitably returned to the concept of collaboration. On a basic level, there’s always the question of mechanics.

Literally how do Rhonda and I write a story together? Does one do the rough draft and the other do the polishing? No, we each write scenes and pass the story back and forth dozens upon dozens upon dozens of times (and that’s just an estimate for a short story!)

Do each of us write certain characters? Nope, we both write all the characters. No one has a proprietary hold on Mac, Rachel, Whiskey, or Brianna.

Of course, the final question is always, when are the two of you going to meet. We used to joke that it would be on a very special Oprah, but now that Ms. W is going off the air, we need a new punchline (ideas are welcome).

When I speak to these groups, I always hope that the takeaway, beside maybe a few sales, is that it’s never too late to pursue your dreams – whatever they may be. Rhonda and I had each harbored a secret fantasy that we’d become mystery writers. Didn’t seem likely as the years went by. I’m not sure either of us would have had the staying power it takes to become a published mystery writer without the collaboration. That’s not a reflection of talent. Rhonda could write dozens of books on her own. But writing with a partner means showing up with something when you’ve said you would write the next scene, even if family and work demands are pressing. It means not wanting to disappoint someone else, even if you would be willing to disappoint yourself. Of course it also means having someone to gripe to when a rejection letter arrives; and someone with whom to shriek in joy when an acceptance or good review appears.

The Stiletto Gang is a diverse group of talented women. We write different kinds of stories but we share similar dreams. These library events remind me again just how lucky I am to be a writer, to be a co-author, and to have had the opportunity to pursue my dreams. Best wishes to all of you that your dreams come true.

Marian, the Northern half of Evelyn David


Brianna Sullivan Mysteries – e-book series

I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries
– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Dog Days of Summer in Lottawatah
– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Holiday Spirit(s) of Lottawatah
– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Undying Love in Lottawatah
– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

The Sullivan Investigation Series

Murder Drops the Ball (Spring 2011)
Murder Takes the Cake
– Paperback – Kindle
Murder Off the Books
– Paperback – Kindle
Riley Come Home (short story)
– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords