Waiting for Sandy

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As I sit here writing, it’s Monday around lunchtime, we
still have power, and we await the arrival of Hurricane Sandy, perhaps most the
most deadly storm to hit the Eastern seaboard since the storm that hit in 1938.
So, is it just a wee bit unseemly to be happy that because
of this storm, me, hubby, and kid #2 have two days off with nothing to do? (Kid
#1’s college is also closed but since she doesn’t live here, she doesn’t get to
enjoy the relaxing day.)
I’m trying to look at the silver lining but I have never
encountered an event in which every business known to Type A personalities has
been shut down, making it virtually impossible for any of us to toil as we
would normally do on a regular Monday, Tuesday, or even Wednesday (when it
seems that things will slowly start to reopen). 
Even when we have snow days, work usually continues apace, with husband
having to go to school which isn’t cancelled unless Mayor Bloomberg issues an
edict.  And he issues very few edicts on
the closing of school.
I sent a few emails and I have been checking Facebook to
make sure friends are safe but I write this just a few short minutes before I
do what I planned to do when I found out that work would be cancelled:  I’m going to take a nap.  A long nap. 
Under the covers.  It’s sad that
in today’s world it takes a natural disaster to bring life to a complete halt
and force people to “relax,” as much as one can with an impending hurricane,
but there you have it.
So, I’m making a large vat of tortellini, just in case the
power goes out, because that is an item you can eat cold. And I’ve stocked up
on water (and not surprisingly, wine). 
We have chocolate.  Some
leftovers.  I think we’re set.
I’ll update you when I can and let you know how cruel Sandy
was to us.
Maggie Barbieri

On The Books by Dru

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What is your longest running series you continue to read? I have several and the five listed below are coming out in November. With over 12 books in their respective series, I look forward to my annual visit with these characters. The books range from a cozy, a humorous read to a thriller.

Looking for Yesterday by Marcia Muller, #31 in the Sharon McCone mystery series.

Three years ago, Caro Warrick was acquitted for the murder of her best friend Amelia Bettencourt, but the lingering doubts of everyone around Caro is affecting her life. Sharon McCone is confident that she can succeed where other detectives have failed (though at times it’s hard to shake her own misgivings about what happened), but when Caro is brutally beaten right at Sharon’s doorstep, the investigation takes on a whole new course. How many more people remain at risk until Amelia’s murderer is finally caught?

The Buzzard Table by Margaret Maron, #19 in the Deborah Knott mystery series.

Judge Deborah Knott and Sheriff’s Deputy Dwight Bryant are back home in Colleton County with all their family and courthouse regulars. But there are a few new faces as well. Lt. Sigrid Herald and her mother, Anne, a well-known photographer, are down from New York to visit Anne’s ailing mother, Mrs. Lattimore. When the group gathers for dinner at Mrs. Lattimore’s Victorian home, they meet the enigmatic Martin Crawford, an ornithologist who claims to be researching a new book on Southern vultures. More importantly, he’s Mrs. Lattimore’s long-lost nephew, and Sigrid and Anne’s English cousin. With her health in decline, Mrs. Lattimore wants to make amends with her family–something Deborah can understand as she too is working to strengthen her relationship with her stepson, Cal. But for all his mysterious charm, Anne can’t shake the feeling that there is something familiar about Martin…something he doesn’t want Anne or anyone else to discover. When a murderer strikes, Deborah, Dwight, and Sigrid will once again work together to solve the crime and uncover long-buried Lattimore family secrets.

Notorious Nineteen by Janet Evanovich, #19 in the Stephanie Plum mystery series.

After a slow summer of chasing low-level skips for her cousin Vinnie’s bail bonds agency, Stephanie Plum finally lands an assignment that could put her checkbook back in the black. Geoffrey Cubbin, facing trial for embezzling millions from Trenton’s premier assisted-living facility, has mysteriously vanished from the hospital after an emergency appendectomy. Now it’s on Stephanie to track down the con man. Unfortunately, Cubbin has disappeared without a trace, a witness, or his money-hungry wife. Rumors are stirring that he must have had help with the daring escape . . . or that maybe he never made it out of his room alive. Since the hospital staff’s lips seem to be tighter than the security, and it’s hard for Stephanie to blend in to assisted living, Stephanie’s Grandma Mazur goes in undercover. But when a second felon goes missing from the same hospital, Stephanie is forced into working side by side with Trenton’s hottest cop, Joe Morelli, in order to crack the case.

The real problem is, no Cubbin also means no way to pay the rent. Desperate for money—or maybe just desperate—Stephanie accepts a secondary job guarding her secretive and mouthwatering mentor Ranger from a deadly Special Forces adversary. While Stephanie is notorious for finding trouble, she may have found a little more than she bargained for this time around. Then again—a little food poisoning, some threatening notes, and a bridesmaid’s dress with an excess of taffeta never killed anyone . . . or did they? If Stephanie Plum wants to bring in a paycheck, she’ll have to remember: No guts, no glory.

Merry Christmas, Alex Cross by James Patterson, #19 in the Alex Cross mystery series.

It’s Christmas Eve and Detective Alex Cross has been called out to catch someone who’s robbing his church’s poor box. That mission behind him, Alex returns home to celebrate with Bree, Nana, and his children. The tree decorating is barely underway before his phone rings again–a horrific hostage situation is quickly spiraling out of control. Away from his own family on the most precious of days, Alex calls upon every ounce of his training, creativity, and daring to save another family. Alex risks everything–and he may not make it back alive on this most sacred of family days. Alex Cross is a hero for our time, and never more so than in this story of family, action, and the deepest moral choices.

Nightshade on Elm Street by Kate Collins, #13 in the Flower Shop mystery series.

In addition to running her flower shop, planning her wedding, and juggling two mothers who both want to host an elaborate bridal shower, Abby Knight is facing another complication. Her ditzy cousin Jillian asks her and her longtime beau, Marco, a private detective, to find a woman who’s gone missing from the exclusive beach house belonging to Jillian’s in-laws, the Osbornes. The missing woman is also the fiancée of Pryce Osborne, a wet noodle with a big bank account who dumped Abby just before their wedding several years ago. Merely being anywhere near Pryce makes Abby’s insecurities grow like kudzu. Then a woman’s drowned body surfaces, and Pryce becomes a prime suspect in her death. Unless Abby and Marco can get a killer to come clean, their bridal shower will turn into a complete washout…and Pryce will be exchanging a sunny beach for a prison cell.

Have you read any of these series long-running series?

I’m an avid reader who finds adventures in reading. Visit dru’s book musing at http://notesfromme.wordpress.com

Getting It Together

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“Someday I’ll get it all together,”
my husband mutters morosely as he struggles with something that slipped through
the cracks in his ultra-busy life. I’ve done the same myself many times. We’re
all juggling so many plates that it’s no wonder when one of them crashes to the
floor or is rescued from that fate only by a quick diving grab.
About a year ago, however, I
promised myself that I’d stop using that term “getting it all together,”
because I know—we all do, actually—that no one ever gets it all
together. In fact, it’s just a nice camouflaged way of saying, “Someday I’ll be
perfect.” And we wouldn’t say that out loud anywhere anyone else could hear us,
would we?
Of course, we wouldn’t, but every
time we say, “I’m going to get it all together,” we are pushing ourselves into
that perfectionist role. I bring this up because it’s something with which I’ve
struggled all my life. I aim for competence, wanting to be the best I possibly
can, the top of the class, in all areas of my life. But none of us can be the
top of the class in everything.
Over the years, I’ve had to realize
that I’m never going to win the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval—certainly
not for my housekeeping! As I’ve become more involved in the world of writing
novels for trade houses who want at least one novel a year, I’ve just given up
on the house. And very early in my life, I came to grips with the fact that I
will never be a fashionably-dressed, perfectly-made-up, stylish woman. I make
up for these failings in many other areas. But like many of us, I suspect, I
judge myself against the best in each area of my life. Against the woman who’s
cold to her family and has no friends, I hold up not my loving family and
friends but my messy home against her spotless, department-store-window house.
Against the woman who’s superficial and shallow, I hold up not my lifetime
pursuit of learning or my passionate concern with issues but my bare face and
comfortable shoes against her fashionista appearance.
I know I’m not the only one who does
this comparison of someone else’s strong point against my weak point. I suspect
it’s actually pretty common. But I’ve decided that I’m no longer going to do
this to myself—and part of overcoming it is discarding the concept of “getting
it all together.” Even those who seem on the surface to have it all together,
don’t. We’ve seen that again and again—the wealthy, famous, beautiful people
who seem on top of everything yet go plunging down the slopes, the woman (or
man) we always admired because she seemed to have everything in her life under
such good control, only to find she was flailing every day behind her
impeccable façade. Yet still, we put this burden of “getting it all together”
on our shoulders—and wonder why we walk slumped over.
So here and now, I’ll admit that I
don’t have it all together, nor am I probably ever going to have it all
together. I have too many areas where I’m simply not really together at all or only
partly together, on Wednesdays and Sundays. But I do have a few areas of
strength where I’m really at the top of my game—and I think those are where I’m
going to focus my energy now instead of trying to become the fashionista or
uber-hausfrau that I’m not. So, look out, world. Hear me roar! Just don’t look
at the shoes, please.

The Other POV

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by Bethany Maines

Tis the season again. 
The political season that is. 
And Washington State being Washington State we’re facing a couple of
contentious issues, including gay marriage, marijuana legalization for everyone
over 21, and that old chestnut, the Presidential race.  Although, it should be noted that since
we are Washington State the REAL hippies are against the marijuana legalization
initiative because it doesn’t go far enough.

I strongly believe in our democracy and I do my best to
learn what I can about the issues and cast my vote accordingly. But I have to say it’s a bit of childhood dream dashed to
discover that frequently both sides of an issue have points in their favor.
What happened to absolute certainty and knowing which way to go?
Who wants to grow up and see the other guy’s point of view?  It makes me want to curl up on the
couch and watch Rio Bravo (or Eldorado, really doesn’t matter which) because
you know where you’re at with a John Wayne movie.
Although, it has recently come to my attention through this great blog entry by Anne Kreamer for the Harvard Business Review that my mother
may have ruined my ability to see the world in black and white. By encouraging
me to read fiction my heartless mother was teaching me to how to be empathetic
and how to build a “theory of mind” (the ability to interpret and respond to
those different from us).  What was
she thinking?  Oh wait, I can
totally understand what she was thinking because I have the skill to see the
world from her perspective.  Why,
Mom, why??!!!
While being able to think from another point of view may
have ruined my black hat/white hat theory of politics, it has served me well in
writing.  One the tricks I find
most useful for teasing out a plot tangle is to write out a synopsis of the
story from the Villains point of view. With all my attention being focused on
the hero or heroine sometimes I’ll make the error of simply moving my Bad Guy
off stage.  For all intents and
purposes he’s just out there in the wings, twiddling his thumbs, and waiting
for his cue to come in and twirl his moustache and chew a bit of scenery.  But when I write the story from his POV
I realize that those plot holes have been holes because I haven’t been giving
the Villain a chance to actually be a person. Real people have goals and
motivations beyond moustache twirling and the story only gets better when I let
my Baddy show there’s more to him than an awesome moustache.  And although moustaches are great, I
think we can all agree that no one will ever really be able to compete with Sam Elliot, and my Villains probably shouldn’t even try.

Bethany Maines
is the author of Bulletproof Mascara, Compact With the Devil and
Supporting the Girls.  Catch up with her at www.bethanymaines.com or check out the new Carrie
Mae youtube
video.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

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By: Joelle Charbonneau
I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.  I thought I wanted to be a music theater and
opera performer.  At least, that’s what I
spent my undergrad and post-graduate schooling studying.  And I guess I actually wanted to do that
since I did the professional singing, dancing, acting thing for a number a
years.  While I bellowed arias and show
tunes on stage, I also worked as a systems administrator and report analyst,
which stretched my mind and pushed me to learn new things.  And somewhere along the way I started
teaching and wow do I love it.  Helping
students discover not only their singing voices, but confidence in themselves
and their futures is a pretty amazing thing. 
Oh yeah – and now I write. 
And I love that too.  Some days,
the need to fill the blank page stresses me out.  There are moments where I wonder why I chose
to sit behind a screen worrying about what comes next.  But I wouldn’t give it up for anything.
The funny thing is, I never took a college level English
class.  I never took creative
writing.  And I am a writer. 
I point this out because as a teacher, I work to help prepare
my high school students for college.  The
one thing that strikes me over the years is the notion that high school
students have to *know* what they want to be when they grow up.   From the time students enter their freshman
year of high school, there is a strange notion that they should be working
toward a specific future goal.  Not just
getting into college or having a happy future, but taking the right classes to
get them into a specific college for a future they might not even want to have
when they know more about it.
I *knew* what I wanted to do with my future when I entered
college.  I wanted nothing more than to
spend my life singing and dancing on the stage.  And I still love that.  But I have grown and changed and learned so
much since those high school days.  I’m
not longer that person.
So, I guess my point to this rant is that I hope we all work
to encourage our children to study something they love.  To strive to learn things that matter to them
because those are the things that shape their lives.  I believe that filling the soul is just as
important as filling the mind.  When we
fill both—amazing things can happen.
So—dare I ask?  What did you want to be when you graduated high school and what are you doing now?

TRICK OR TREAT – A HAUNTING IN LOTTAWATAH

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A HAUNTING IN LOTTAWATAH
by Evelyn David

Excerpt-

It might surprise you to learn that most older houses and public
buildings are haunted by a ghost or two. Or at least that’s been my experience.
Some are just hanging around, doing the same thing repeatedly like a faded
video programmed to play an endless loop. They have no awareness of the living.
Others are very different. They can interact with the living and if they want
to be seen or heard, they’re usually not shy about confronting me – day or
night.

Beverly and I had been in the Foreman house almost two hours and I hadn’t
seen anyone. I was beginning suspect that Ghost Ned wasn’t that “into me”
after all.

The second floor was in slightly better shape than the downstairs. At
least it was marginally cleaner. It had been remodeled sometime in the last 50
years with bathrooms added to each of the five large bedrooms. The living Ned
Foreman had told me the plumbing in the house actually worked. I’m sure we’d
have cause to verify that statement for ourselves before much longer.

A wall for a probable sixth bedroom had been removed and the space now
served as an upstairs sitting area. The removal of the wall also allowed
natural light from the window in the former room to light the landing area.
Beverly and I agreed this would be a good spot to set up camp.

Leon found a spot of fading sunlight on the old wooden floor and caught a
nap. I’d been watching his reactions as we’d toured the house. Except for his
barking after the door in the library had slammed, he’d seemed his normal
placid self. If there were ghosts around, they were of no concern to him so
far.

Beverly and I made multiple trips to the car for our gear, some folding
chairs, and an ice chest. In less than an hour, we were ready. Good thing too,
the sun was starting to set.

Battery-powered lamps created a six foot island of light. Beyond that,
the house was in shadows. Another hour and we wouldn’t be able to see anything
without the lamps and our flashlights.

“These recorders are voice activated, right, if I turn them on?”
Beverly was testing one of the hand held units I’d ordered on line.

I’d just taken a bite of one of the chicken sandwiches from Tiny’s that we’d brought to keep us from
starving to death during our overnight stay in the house. I nodded and
continued chewing.

Beverly began talking into the recorder. “My name is Beverly Heyman.
I’m 29-years-old. I’m a dispatcher for the Lottawatah Police Department. I used
to sing part-time in a country band. I’m married to Mort Heyman. I got married
right out of high school and I have six children. Ashley is 11. Sophia is 9.
Jason and James are 7. Melissa is 3 and Mort the III is almost four months old.
We own two cats, Popcorn and Cupcake. The twins named them after their favorite
things.”

She turned off the recorder. “So the way this works is that I just
play it back and we listen for other voices?”

“According to what I’ve seen on television.” I grinned. “I
haven’t actually needed to use one before. Play it back and let’s listen. Next
time we might have to ask them some questions.”

“Right, sorry.” Beverly smiled. “I was nervous.”

Awake if not alert, Leon ambled over and nudged my knee. I tore off a
piece of my sandwich and handed it to him. He’d had his dinner, but,
apparently, was still peckish. I’d need to take him outside for a short walk
soon. Of course with the length of his legs, all walks were short.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Okay, here goes.” Beverly pressed play and we listened.

“These recorders are voice activated, right, if I turn them on? Why are you here? My name is Beverly
Heyman. I’m 29 years old. I’m a dispatcher for the Lottawatah Police
Department. I used to sing part-time in a country band. Sing? I’m married to Mort Heyman. I got married right out of high
school and I have six children. Ashley is 11. Sophia is 9. Jason and James are
7. Twins? Melissa is 3 and Mort the
III is almost four months old. You
shouldn’t leave your babies. Go home
now. We own two cats, Popcorn and Cupcake. Meow, Meow.  The twins named
them after their favorite things.”

Beverly’s voice was clear. The second voice was scratchy, older, but
clearly also female.

The surprise, to me, was the cat. I knew there were shadow animals, but
hadn’t actually heard one before. I’d have to ask if Georgia had a cat while
she was living.

“Whoa! Who does she think she is?” Beverly’s face turned white.
“Why does she get to have an opinion about how I take care of my kids?”

Beverly was missing the point at the moment, but it
would come to her. We weren’t alone. Ned Foreman wasn’t alone. There was at
least one other ghost in the house.
 

A Haunting in Lottawatah – Kindle (exclusive to Amazon this month)
The Ghosts of Lottawatah – trade paperback collection of the Brianna e-books
Book 1 – I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries (includes the first four Brianna e-books)
Book 2 – A Haunting in Lottawatah (includes the 5th, 6th, and 7th Brianna e-books)
_____________________

 

 

 

Sullivan Investigations Mystery
Murder Off the Books Kindle – Nook – Smashwords – Trade Paperback
Murder Takes the Cake Kindle – Trade Paperback (exclusive to Amazon)
Riley Come Home (short story)- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Moonlighting at the Mall (short story) – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

 


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
A Haunting in Lottawatah – Kindle (exclusive to Amazon this month)
Lottawatah Twister – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Missing in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Good Grief in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Summer Lightning in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

The Ghosts of Lottawatah – trade paperback collection of the Brianna e-books
Book 1 – I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries (includes the first four Brianna e-books)
Book 2 – A Haunting in Lottawatah (includes the 5th, 6th, and 7th Brianna e-books)

Romances
Love Lessons – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

An Ordinary Time Machine

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by Laura Bradford

As I get older, I find that flashes of the present transport me into the past all the time. And each time it happens, it’s like an unexpected gift that almost always leaves me with a smile on my face.

It happened again just last night. My husband and I went to see Fiddler on the Roof at a nearby dinner theater. The first number in the show–Traditions–was an instant flash back to a time when Dear Daughter # 1 (who is closing in on 18) was just ten. She was part of an amazing kids’ production of Fiddler during the year I homeschooled her and her sister.

In that production, DD # 1 was a Jewish man–equipped with black vest, black hat, black pants, beard, and wig (to cover her almost white-blonde hair). Suddenly, I was back in the auditorium, watching her instead of the actual cast on the stage in front of me. I saw her arms shoot up every single time theirs did. I saw her dancing to the left and the right. I know I was smiling through the memory, but I also know my eyes were misting, too.

Then, later on in the show, the four male actors start doing the bottle-dance. And, once again, I was back in that auditorium, watching my little girl dancing with a bottle atop her head. I could see the concentration and pride on her face as the audience clapped. I saw the momentary disappointment when, during one of the performances, the bottle slipped off her hat the last time she rose from her knees.

Boom. Eight years disappeared before my eyes.

And I loved every single moment of it.

These flashes happen often. For both girls. Sometimes, they’re triggered by a song. Sometimes, they’re triggered by a book. Sometimes, they’re triggered by the girls, themselves–a certain smile or look. But no matter what it is, I’m always so grateful for the trip down memory lane.

~Laura

Social Media and the Art of the Reasoned Debate

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Is it my imagination or does everyone seem to be at cross
purposes these days, lambasting one another for their tightly held ideals,
political views, and opinions?  Has
social media made it appropriate—if not convenient—to start political debates
that go nowhere fast?
Count me out.
Put simply:  I read
Facebook for the updates on what everyone had for dinner, cute kitten pictures,
funny memes, and George Takei’s thoughts on life.  If you’re going to spew about this candidate
or another—or God forbid, any of their spouses—please keep the vitriol to
yourself, because I am just not interested. 
Consider yourself not “unfriended but “hidden.”
I know for a fact that a few of my fellow Stiletto wearers
feel the same way based on what they have posted on their own pages.  And one, in particular, agrees with me on
this point:  you’re not going to change
anyone’s mind, so just leave it alone.
I read a fascinating interview in O Magazine last night that
really drove this point home for me. 
Donna Brazile, a woman who has worked on dozens of Democratic political
campaigns and who helmed Al Gore’s presidential campaign, and Mary Matalin,
spouse of Clinton friend James Carville but a staunch conservative, are best
friends.  Crazy, right?  Well, turns out that they do discuss politics
and other charged topics but they both know that their hearts are in the right
place and that their opinions stem from individual lives lived with sincerity.  They discuss topics but never try to change
each other’s minds and if they are to be believed—and I have no reason not to
believe them given the frankness of their answers—they do not go for each
other’s jugular if they disagree.  They
have dinner together, they travel together, they drink together, they even
dance together, yet fall on completely opposite sides of every imaginable
political issue.
Mature, right?
The one thing that struck me about the interview
was that the women still had high standards when it came to good taste and
manners.  They felt that discussing politics
without bringing respect and politeness to the conversation was the height of
rudeness, something their mothers would not condone.  Stirring the pot at a cocktail party, in
their opinions (and mine), was just in bad taste.  Finding a proper forum—and having a
discussion with the proper decorum—was what made a good debate.  Yelling, talking over someone, or spouting
negativity in the name of supporting one’s ideals…not so much.  And this applied equally to face-to-face
discussions and those that take place virtually.
I am a fan of social media. 
It makes life for someone like me—an extrovert who works alone and at home—more
enjoyable.  I love seeing what everyone
has to say about what they’ve got going on in their lives.  What I don’t love is talk of politics of any
ilk, particularly when it is filled with half-truths, disparaging comments and
an assumption that if you’re on the other side of the debate, well, you must be
just plain dumb.  (And this applies to
both left-leaners and right-leaners.)  We
all bring our own life experience to bear on our beliefs and that doesn’t make
them right or wrong—just ours.
So, if I haven’t commented on Facebook your definition of
socialism or redistribution, or given my opinion on how 5 trillion dollars can
be cut from the federal budget, or discussed how I feel about birth control and
who should pay for it, it just means that I’m staring at a cute photo of a
kitten tucked into the warm cocoon that its mother has made for it.  Or that you’ve been “hidden.” Don’t worry:  once the election is over, we’ll all be friends again and you can unhide me, too.
Maggie Barbieri

What Are Your Feelings About Big Mystery Cons?

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Recently I read a blog post from an author titled, “Why I Quit Going to Bouchercon” and some of the things expressed I’ve been feeling.

My hubby and I have been to several all over the U.S. We had a great time, especially exploring cities we’ve never been to before and wouldn’t have visited were it not for Bouchercon. Did it do anything for my career as an author? Not a whole lot. To even get my books into the book room, I always had to negotiate with the book dealer who wanted the standard 40/60 cut which meant I didn’t make a dime on any book sold. (I bought the books I brought with me at that same 40% cost.)

Being with small presses doesn’t impress the Bouchercon committees. In fact, I read the minutes of one of those committees after a Bouchercon I’d attended and several members actually came out and said “too many small press authors attended, discouraging the big name authors.” Does that mean my money isn’t as good as anyone else’s? After all, I paid a hefty fee to go, stay in the convention hotel and the transportation to get there and back.

My last Boucheron was the recent one in San Francisco. I went because it was close enough for me to get there fairly easily. I didn’t even bother to try to get my books in the book room. Hubby didn’t go and I roomed with an old friend I hadn’t seen for awhile. I had a great time schmoozing with people and wasn’t impressed with the panels I attended. Especially the one on e-books. The panelist, all published by big name publishers, didn’t know much of anything about e-books. This would have been a great panel for small press authors to shine, but they weren’t asked.

A big plus, is I have made friends with some wonderful fans of the mystery genre who have become fans of my mystery series.

Left Coast Crime is smaller and a bit more small press author friendly. I’ve already signed up for the one in Monterey CA. (Also easy for me to get to.)

There are other smaller cons around the country like Love is Murder (been once and loved it), Malice Domestic (been twice and it is also a great conference), Killer Nashville (been to one and thought it was fun) and I know there are many others in the Midwest. Public Safety Writers Association is the smallest one I got too because I get to learn a lot from experts and small press authors get to shine.

For me these days, I’m weighing in the problems of traveling when you’re older. I can no longer run through an airport with my carry-ons to get to my next gate on time which is 1/2 mile away, whether what I’ll get out of the conference or convention will be worth the cost (and I do count meeting and making friends with readers).

What are your feelings about these conventions and conferences for writers? And if you are strictly a reader, if you go, what do you like best? What are your favorite cons and why?

Marilyn

Cry Uncle

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By Evelyn David

It’s not that I’m so smart, it’s just that I stay with problems longer.

~ Albert Einstein
 
Age wrinkles the body. Quitting wrinkles the soul.

~ Douglas MacArthur

Character consists of what you do on the third and fourth
tries.

~ James A. Michener

A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.

~ Richard Bach


If you’re going through hell, keep going.
~ Winston Churchill

If you’re looking for a quote that says it’s okay to quit –
you won’t find one. I know. I was searching for somebody smart or famous, maybe
not Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian, but any minor celebrity would do, that
would justify our decision to abandon a book that we’d been writing.

We’d been working on this story off-and-on – mostly off –
for the better part of three years. Anything, including a thumb wrestling tournament
on cable TV, was enough to divert our attention. We kept talking through
scenarios and occasionally even writing a couple of scenes.

Then last week I finally came to a long overdue conclusion.
It happened after I’d finished the first draft of a scene that included a
heartfelt speech by one of our favorite characters. I mean it was the kind of
declaration that would make lesser men stand up and cheer – except it had
absolutely no business in the book and made little or no sense.

Sigh.

It was time to cry Uncle (or Aunt, Nephew, or Cousin).
Basically it was time to hold up the white flag of surrender and say this book
is going nowhere – fast.

Was it too ambitious? Too complicated? Were we trying too
hard? Probably no to the first question; definitely yes to the second and
third. We’re capable of writing grand stories with deep themes, even if we
often choose to eschew great pronouncements of metaphysical meaning (if I even
know what that means). I don’t remember who said it, but somebody (not Paris,
Kim, or even Honey Boo-Boo), once said, “Not only do I not want to write
the Great American Novel; I don’t want to read it.”

Anyway, the two halves of Evelyn David had a brief memorial
service for a story that was dead on arrival. We killed it. No wanted posters
for the murderer are necessary. Nor even a moment of silence. Frankly, it was a
relief.

Being me, I felt a little guilt. Like I owed it to the story
to try and make it work. But maybe I’m getting older, maybe a little smarter,
maybe listening to the Southern half who doesn’t have much patience with guilt
trips helps. But I realized that by pulling the plug on a story that wasn’t
ever going to work, it freed us to write one that did.

Which is exactly what we’ve been doing.

So I guess we’re not quitters after all. How about you? Have
you ever quit a project?

Evelyn David

 

_____________________
 

 

 

 

Sullivan Investigations Mystery
Murder Off the Books Kindle – Nook – Smashwords – Trade Paperback
Murder Takes the Cake Kindle – Trade Paperback (exclusive to Amazon)
Riley Come Home (short story)- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Moonlighting at the Mall (short story) – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

 

 


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
A Haunting in Lottawatah – Kindle (exclusive to Amazon this month)
Lottawatah Twister – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Missing in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Good Grief in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Summer Lightning in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

The Ghosts of Lottawatah – trade paperback collection of the Brianna e-books
Book 1 – I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries (includes the first four Brianna e-books)
Book 2 – A Haunting in Lottawatah (includes the 5th, 6th, and 7th Brianna e-books)

Romances
Love Lessons – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords