Tag Archive for: Kaye Barley

Reintroducing Ms. Kaye Barley

Evelyn David is thrilled to welcome Ms. Kaye Barley back to The Stiletto Gang!

We understand you have some big news to share.
Rumor has it that you’ve just published your first novel. Tell us a little
bit about it.
  

I have, indeed! 
Can you believe it?  I’m still
pinching myself.  WHIMSEY: A NOVEL is a bit of southern fiction with a splash of magic and a
touch of fantasy, topped with a sprinkling of humor. It’s about connections.  And you can read more about it at The Whimsey
Webpage – http://www.kayewilkinsonbarley.com/
 
 

Just between us, did you base your book on any real
events or people in your life? If so, do they know it?
  

Just between us – yes, there is a real life event
and it concerns a bit of painting done in the dining room of one of the homes
on The Island of Whimsey.  That was
lifted, in part, from an experience my parents had in having their dining room
painted when I was a little girl.  I
remember it well.  It’s been a source of
laughter for us for a number of years. 
My mom loved that it made its way into the book. 

You live in a beautiful part of North Carolina.
Does setting play a role in your novel? If so, how? And have you ever met that
guy “Eustace” from the reality tv show Mountain Men? Okay, forget
that last question – you can email us privately about that.
  

We really do live in a gorgeous part of North
Carolina.  These mountains are heavenly
and filled, I think, with creative and healing energy.  I can’t believe you’re asking about Eustace!  I think I’m the last person on God’s green
earth to have heard of him!  I just heard
about him for the first time a week or so ago and now find out he’s a local
celebrity.  Which shows not only how much
I watch TV (hardly ever), but how much I get out and about (apparently, not
enough). 

Anyhooo – – 
getting back to your question (sorry, I do tend to get off on tangents,
don’t I?).  Setting plays a huge role in
WHIMSEY, but not our North Carolina mountains. 
The setting is an island off the coast of Georgia.  One of the things that draws me in while I’m
reading and will keep me coming back for more is a book’s setting.  My favorite authors are those who have such a
great sense of setting and those which are so well drawn they become a
character all on their own.  I tried to
do that with Whimsey.  I hope I
succeeded. 

Now that you’re an “official author” do
you view the book world differently? Can you still get lost in someone else’s novel?
Do you get distracted by a tendency to analyze paragraph structure and determine
point of view?
  

Thanks for the “official author” thing!  Wow. 
I’m having a hard time with that one. 
And you know, to many people I’m not and will never be as long as I’m a
self-published author.  But, oh
well.   

Do I view the book world differently?  That would have to be a yes – I do.  Recent experiences have caused a bit of a
shift in how I view the book world. 

Can I still get lost in someone else’s novel
?  Oh, Wow.  You bet. 
I am completely and totally a reader. 
One who wants to just crawl inside the story.  A well-written book transports me and I live
in that world until the story is over – and often well after the story is
over.  I rarely get distracted by
anything that has to do with someone else’s writing.  There are as many different writing styles as
there are writers, and I leave the analyzing and deconstruction to those who
actually know about those things – and that’s not me.   I just wanted to write a story that had all
the elements that I enjoy reading about. 
I figured if it’s a story I loved, there would probably (hopefully)  be others who would love it as well. I’m well
aware that it’s not a book for everyone – but what book is?  I’m also well aware that I’m not, never will
be, a great writer.  But I tell a decent
story, decently written, in a fairly distinct “voice.”  Hopefully, as I continue writing I’ll get
better. 

Your dog Harley has a huge following. What does he
think of your new venture? Will he accompany you on book signing tours?
  

That Harley. 
What a ham, huh?  Harley thinks
WHIMSEY is all about him, of course.  And
Fred the Corgi does look an awful lot like Harley, I have to admit.  Harley, however, does not read the Wall
Street Journal
, and if he did, he would not need glasses to do that. 

Signing tours! 
Wow.  So far, Evelyn, no one’s
been begging me to come do much in the way of a signing tour.  I am, however, going to be one of the
exhibiting writers – as opposed to the big name presenting authors – at the
High Country Festival of the Book  here in Boone
in June.  I’m not sure, though, that it’s
a dog-friendly venue.  He would love it
though ‘cause a couple of his favorite authors are on the roster.  I’m pretty excited about it too.   

What’s next on your writing agenda?  We know you’re a fan of mysteries. Have you
considered writing one?
 

Next on the writing agenda is Whimsey Book
#2.  There are five very close
girlfriends in WHIMSEY:  A NOVEL.  We learned Emmaline Foley Hamilton’s story in
Book #1.  I hope to tell each woman’s
story over time.  I’ve written the first
scene in Book #2, but have put it aside for a bit while I concentrate on
promotion right now. 

I am a huge fan of mysteries, you’re right.  I have not considered writing one, but just a
few years ago I had not considered writing a novel at all. So, maybe.  We’ll see. 

If you could tell someone who was thinking of
writing their first novel, one thing – what would it be? Why?
 

I would say “Do It!”   I would say this to anyone who wants to do
anything they have an itch and an urge to do. 
Writing, painting, photography, whatever.  Just do it. 
It doesn’t need to be for anyone other than yourself.  If it brings you a bit of joy, do it.  And don’t wait until you think the time is
right otherwise the years are going to just keep on going by and you’ll still
be waiting.  Just do it!  
 

Pick a favorite paragraph from your book and share
it with us.
  

A favorite paragraph.  Okay – here’s one. 

“The painting showed not just five little girls
playing dress-up, but the depths of their joy in one another.  Each making sure they were all equally
visible, unable to be separated without a hand holding another’s hand, a finger
touching another’s nose, one giving another’s big picture hat a minor
adjustment.  The joy was infectious.  The love was palpable.  The quiet shades of white and sepia tones
tinged with the palest pink, recognized widely as Olivia’s signature palette,
giving it an aura of timelessness.” 

How do we find WHIMSEY? Where is it sold and what formats is it available in? 

Print versions of WHIMSEY are available through
any bookstore.  Because it’s
self-published some people think it’s only available at Amazon.  I purchased an ISBN through Bowker so that
the book could be distributed through other distributors, such as Ingram, so
your favorite bookseller can order it for you. 
The only eVersion, right now, is Kindle.  

WHIMSEY is Kaye Wilkinson Barley’s first novel.
She lives with her husband, Don, in the North Carolina mountains along with
Harley Doodle Barley, the Wonder Corgi.

You can follow news about WHIMSEY here – http://kayewilkinsonbarley.com/ 

Kaye is Blog Mistress of Meanderings and Muses,
which you can follow here –http://www.meanderingsandmuses.com/ 

She also steps in as “Oh, Kaye!” the
first Sunday of every month at Jungle Red Writers – http://www.jungleredwriters.com/ 

Kaye was also a contributor to two regional
Western North Carolina anthologies – – – “Clothes Lines,” and
“Women’s Spaces Women’s Places,” both edited by Celia H. Miles and
Nancy Dillingham.

A Crime Fiction Couple Tells All to Kaye Barley


At midnight an unnamed source provided the Stiletto Gang with a copy of the following interview, conducted by Kaye Barley, owner of Meanderings and Muses – one of those subversive blogs mentioned only in hushed whispers behind closed doors. The Stiletto Gang reprints this interview in the interests of justice and as a public service. Note: No names were changed to protect anyone. (Because of the late hour we were unable to reach Kaye Barley for confirmation that these are her words and that the meeting described below actually took place. Calls to her residence elicited only a “no comment” from an individual identified only as Harley.)

Two-on-Two Interview of Crime Fiction Couple by Kaye Barley

I, Kaye Barley, being of sound mind and body, caught up with Robert W. Walker and wife Miranda Phillips Walker in Kill Devil Hills, NC in a shady, seedy dark dive that specialized in exotic drinks and an ocean breeze, as the bar amounted to a garage door that opened and closed on the sea. You know the type of place where seagulls and pelicans pick apart the leavings from your table? Where paper towels stand in for napkins? Where tattooed servers look like meth heads? The Walkers were doing research, and it was the only time I could see them for an interview before they left NC. I found them in a jolly, receptive mood here at Buck’s Gunshop and Oyster Bar.

My initial question broke the ice as I sat across the picnic bench from the infamous crime writing duo, asking, “So how have you two managed to only kill off fictional characters with two crime novelists under one roof?” Rob, whose latest is DEAD ON, Five Star Books and Mianda;s latest and first is The Well Meaning Killer from Krill Press, turned to one another and smiled wide.

Rob sardonically replied, “Both our books are enjoying rave reviews. No reason for any ahhh…in-house bloodshed, right dear?”

Miranda nodded appreciatively. “The wonder is that the dogs in both our books also managed to survive.”

I asked, “I understand your son, Stephen, did the artwork and cover design for Dead On, and it is a fantastic cover.

Rob perked up at this. “The kid’s got his own graphic arts biz, and he’s a genius at it. How many publishers do you know who go with a cover designed by the author’s son?”

Miranda smiled proudly. “Stephen’s helped us with promotion material and business cards as well. It’s all in the family. And while my cover art is not designed by Stephen, it’s pretty hot, too!”

Recording the answers, I next asked, “What’re you two hoping to find here in the Outer Banks? I understand you’re doing research for your next book?”

Miranda shouted, “Oh, oh—this one’s for me. My sequel to The Well Meaning Killer is set here, and while we’ve visited the area before, Rob says there’s nothing like firsthand research for a book—especially if I’m footing the hotel bill.”

Rob leapt in with, “She’s seriously researching, and I’m seriously on R&R—came for the beach, the sun, surf, Buck’s Oysters, the Wright Brothers museum, the nightlife. But I think a setting with the name Kill Devil Hills in itself tells a reader to be on the look-out.”

“I see, so this will be a continuation of Megan McKenna’s FBI casework, eh?” I asked.

“That’s right, and I bring on some new characters to kill off! Bringing back some characters, who didn’t die in The Well Meaning Killer.”

Rob piped in with, “I think only Max, the dog, survived that last one, hon.”

“Nooooo! Some people survived that book as well.”

“Here I thought you were trying to trump my body count,” Rob joked and sipped at his Blue Moon.

At this point, I felt I should ask another question or order a drink. I did both. “Rob, you don’t intend to use Kill Devil Hills in a sequel to Dead On or another title?”

“When I set a book in New Orleans, I do NOT use Anne Rice’s cemetery, and I also steer clear of anything smacking of James Lee Burke, so as to make my New Orleans unique. Using Kill Devil Hills on the “heels” of Miranda Phillips Walker, no way. Colorful place but no way.”

Miranda muttered in his ear, “That’s OK, Rob, if he wanna use the location in the future sometime.” Rob pouted and said it was spoiled now for him.

“Will you two ever collaborate on a book?” I asked and man did this break up the bit of bickering.

They looked like two deer caught in the headlights. And both said at once, “No, no, no,” as in a chant. Then they added, “Maybe, maybe, maybe.”

“We love one another too much for that,” Miranda suggested.

“Family is far more important than fame, fortune, or any of that sort of nonsense,” added Rob, the two of them talking over one another in a rush. “However,” added Rob, “never say never. If the right idea came along, and if we can put our egos on the shelf, who knows?”

“Stranger things have happened,” added Miranda. “But honestly, we do read over one another’s work, and we do take good direction from one another.

“Yeah we do help one another throughout the process,” added Rob, “but more importantly, we maintain a respectful relationship toward one another in all we do.”

“Well this has been splendid but time’s run out for me.”

“That sounds like a line in a gangster movie…Curtains for ya…time’s run out for ya, Blackey,” joked Rob and Miranda grabbed him by the arm and tugged him to her. I left the couple in high spirits and laughter amid the music of Buck’s Gunshop and Oyster Bar, but the partners in crime fiction insisted on walking me safely to my car. Outside, the three of us strolled along a thumping, withered old wharf, surrounded by sea oats, below a huge moon over the ocean. At my car, we said our good-byes.

“ I surely wish to thank you and it’s wonderful you two know how to enjoy yourselves in wonderful North Carolina! I never knew this place existed.”

“You gotta go so soon?” asked Rob.

Yeah, the night’s young,” added Miranda.

I slipped into my car with photos taken and recording done wondering if I could sell this thing on eBay or even to Writer’s Crack Me Up Journal, unsure really what I had just faced, but on waking the next day and reviewing my notes, I realized wow, an interesting review overall and I figure Meanderings and Muses could use an infusion of the Walker mystique

For more info on Robert find him on the web where writers hang out and at http://www.robertwalkerbooks.com/

For more info on Miranda find her on the web where writers hang out and at
http://www.mirandawalkerbooks.com/

Growing Up in Cambridge


Kaye Barley is an avid mystery reader and Dorothy L poster, who lives in the beautiful North Carolina mountains with her handsome husband, Donald, and their faithful companion, Harley Doodle Barley – the cutest Corgi on God’s green earth. Kaye is also a blogger and you can find her, along with friends, at Meanderings and Muses. The Stiletto Gang can take part of the credit for this new venture of Kaye’s, since her very first blog was right here on July 25th of last year. She had so much fun, she hasn’t stopped blogging since.

What fun being back here and I thank the gracious women of The Stiletto Gang for having me!

When I was first here last July, I was still a bit wobbly about having kicked my cigarette habit. Well, I want you all to know that its been 9 months and I still have not had a cigarette. Ta DA! I do believe I’m there, don’t you? Although, I must say – it would be awfully easy to pick up a pack of Virginia Slims today and enjoy the heck out of one more cigarette. But – there’s no such thing as that “one more cigarette,” so we’ll just pass on all that. So – do I miss it? Yes and No. I miss that total feeling of relaxation I would have when I’d get home from work, settle down with a book, a fresh cup of coffee and a cigarette. I will always miss that. But then on the other hand – while working and the mood for a cigarette would hit, it didn’t matter if it was 3 below zero, with the wind whipping around at hurricane force. If I wanted a cigarette, by golly, I was gonna have that cigarette. Bundled up in mountain winter weather gear and an unattractive toboggan hat perched on my head, gloves so heavy it was hard to even hold a cigarette, out into the snowy elements I’d tromp to enjoy that cigarette. Do I miss that?!! Pfft. I’d say not.

Also, while I was here I talked a little bit about growing up in the town of Cambridge, MD. Growing up in Cambridge was one of the loveliest things in my life. As it happens, I was feeling a bit homesick for Cambridge when I was here and writing about it helped. So, while my first visit to The Stiletto Gang was fun, as it turns out, because it was part of a whole lot of little things that were happening around that same time, it put me on the pathway to becoming a blogger. Something I had not a whit of understanding about at the time. Now, I recognize it as a fun, creative outlet for me, and a nice place for folks to hang out. So, thanks to The Stiletto Gang, I’ve stumbled into something that has become an important facet of my life – as is the town of Cambridge, MD.

There are a million Cambridge stories and here’s just one.

Laws, I hope my dad forgives me for telling this one!

When I was growing up there were a couple of “stag” bars in Cambridge. Did y’all have those? No women. I don’t know if they specifically ever said “No Women,” or if women just wouldn’t be caught dead in them. There was one on Race Street not far from our apartment called the D-D Bar. It was owned by a friend of Dad’s named Monk Bradley, and it was a wonderful little place. I loved it – it was one of those grown-up “Not Allowed” places I would sneak into; along with the other Race Steet kids. And then be surprised when my mom showed up at the door to get me ’cause someone had called her. The D-D Bar was long and narrow and dark. There were maybe 4 booths in the front, a real long bar with a brass foot rail. There were also pinball tables, a shuffleboard table and a dart board.

If Monk needed him on Saturdays, Daddy thought it was a great (and fun!) way to make some extra money.

We had a local radio station in Cambridge, and on Saturdays, Ed Brigham would make a phone call to give away a free prize to someone if they could answer the question of the day.

On this particular Saturday, Mother and I were home, and the radio was on, of course. We heard Mr. Brigham announce that the question of the day phone call was about to be made. And we, of course, were hoping our phone would ring. Well, it didn’t, but we did hear a very familiar voice over the radio say “D-D Bar, Al speaking.”

How fun – my dad!!!!

Mr. Brigham said “Hey Al, this is Ed Brigham, how ya’ doin’?” After a few minutes of small talk exchanging some “how’s the family” kinda stuff, Mr. Brigham told Dad he would win two free tickets to the Arcade Movie Theater if he could answer the question of the day.

You could hear all the local Cambridge bar flies talking and hollering in the background, pinball machines ping pinging and all that bar noise. So Dad yelled for everyone to quiet down ’cause Ed Brigham had a question.

The question was “How long is a decade?”

pfft.

Well, Mother and I laughed and she said she guessed she & Dad would be going downstairs to see a free movie soon. We lived in a wonderful old apartment over the Arcade Movie Theater.

Then we heard dad over the radio yelling to the guys in the bar “Ed wants to know how long is a DUCK EGG!!”

A duck egg.

Mother and I just about fell in the floor screaming we were laughing so hard.

You could hear all these men saying stuff like, “a Duck Egg? Hell, I don’t know, Jim Bob – what do you think?” Answers like “2 inches, 3 inches – oh hell no, an inch and a half,” and things like “Who the hell cares??” were all loud and clear over the radio. This went on for awhile and finally dad was laughing and said something like “Well, Ed, we think maybe an inch and a half.”

Ed Brigham was hysterical and said “Al. Hazel is going to kill you. NOT a Duck Egg! A DECADE!!!!!!!!”

Dead silence on Dad’s end. Then he started laughing really hard and started telling the guys in the bar that he’d made a mistake and what the question really was and you could hear those men laughing and laughing to beat the band.

For years anytime we went out to eat, especially in Ray Dayton’s restaurant on Race Street, someone would holler “Hey Al! How long’s a Duck Egg?!”

Cheers,
Kaye Barley
http://meanderingsandmuses.blogspot.com/

Smoking and Not Smoking

Kaye Barley is an avid mystery reader and Dorothy L poster who lives in the beautiful North Carolina mountains with her handsome husband of 22 years, Donald, and their faithful companion, Harley Doodle Barley – the cutest Corgi on God’s green earth.

I’ve quit smoking.

I think.

Just taking it one hour at a time. But I think I have it licked.

The Stiletto Gang has invited me to talk about it, so I’ve decided to come clean with why I decided to quit.

During a conversation with a girl friend living in Maryland, a bell went off in my head when she mentioned that Maryland was becoming a totally smoke-free state. I’m going to be in Baltimore for a week. In a hotel. Unable to smoke. For a week. EEK! This is when I started having the same nightmare night after night.

Imagining myself at Bouchercon – finally meeting writers I’ve admired for years, being nervous, of course. But not able to have a cigarette. Finally meeting folks from DorothyL, which might also make me a little nervous. Unable to have a cigarette. Nervous and unable to have a cigarette tends to make a smoker a bit grumpy. So there I’d be. Nervous, wanting a cigarette, knowing I couldn’t have one, making everyone around me miserable, turning into a raving lunatic woman, ending up in handcuffs and dragged off to the hoosegow for being disruptive and disorderly, and still not being able to have a cigarette. Oy – what a fun trip this could be.

It just seemed easier to try to quit.

And so I did.

When Evelyn invited me here, I decided to do a little light research, which meant a stop at Amazon.com to see what books I might be able to find to start me off. I found “No Smoking” by Luc Sante, which is an interesting book whatever your views and feelings are about smoking. First of all, the packaging had to have been thought up by a marketing genius.

Secondly, I think the book gives a fair, fun and interesting picture of what an important part of our culture cigarettes once were. As “No Smoking” points out, there was a time when the whole world smoked.

My parents are both from large families and to the best of my recollection, everyone smoked except my Aunt Belle. My earliest memories include huge family get-togethers with kids running wild in big backyards while the grown-ups sat at picnic tables eating, drinking and smoking. Each of them keeping a close eye on all the kids, each of them always available for a hug, and each of them recognized as a constant source of deep affection, offered up in equal parts of nurturing along with life lessons, and rules to be learned and followed.

These are treasured childhood memories that come to mind often, and always bring a smile. They’re times my family recall with love and laughter.

At the head of one of the tables my much adored grandfather, Pop-Pop Wilkinson, would preside with either a cigar or a pipe, and it was his attention we all vied for.

Cigarettes were everywhere. Were there any movies made in the 40s or 50s in which people weren’t smoking? How many of us still think some of those were the greatest in the history of film? As opposed, maybe, to the graphic blood and guts violence we now see in movies? Is watching that healthier for us and our children than seeing Audrey Hepburn smoke a cigarette in Breakfast at Tiffany’s?

And it wasn’t just the movies. Great mysteries had good guys and bad guys smoking up a storm. Nick & Nora Charles “wore” their cigarettes as part of their elegance. We have a few protagonists smoking in today’s mysteries, but most of them, like Elaine Flinn’s Molly Doyle, and Kathryn Wall’s Bay Tanner, are in a constant battle with themselves in an attempt to quit. In I. Van Laningham’s short stories, Andi Holmes successfully quits. Bill Pronzini’s Nameless Detective starts out a smoker. If the protag isn’t trying to quit, he/she is most likely one of the bad guys, as is the case of Ken Lewis’ Curt LaMar, in “Little Blue Whales.”

Who can imagine Frank Sinatra on stage singing those torch songs without that cigarette? We may not see singers on stage with a cigarette in hand any more, but does it really mean they’re all living a cleaner, safer lifestyle? And why is it the world’s business anyway?

I was never one of those people who fantasized about “if only I could quit.” In my mind, my future was me being this feisty old woman flicking ashes on anyone who might even suggest I put my cigarette out while in their presence. Driving my scooter hell bent for leather all over the Wal-Mart parking lot, daring anyone to get in my way, smoke billowing around my head like it once did Pop-Pop Wilkinson’s

To those of you who don’t smoke – believe it or not, there are some people who don’t want to quit. That’s their choice. And there are the people who are trying desperately to quit but just haven’t yet been able to. I’ve been one of the lucky ones, I think. I’ve had tons of support. Lots of phone calls, and some awfully nice cards, and notes and email from people offering encouragement. It’s meant a lot. It also meant a lot that of all the people who took the time to write, no one preached at me. Praise glory and thank you for that.

If you’re a non-smoker and want to help those you care about stop smoking, try huge doses of patient kindness. I can promise it’ll work a lot better than a constant negative pounding. Smokers already feel like the latest in a long line of persona non-grata. The lowest of the low. The only one lower might be a person who smokes while wearing a mink coat. Let’s all feel free to stone that poor dumb clod to death. And while I’m on this little rant (I love to rant), why has the government, at any level, gotten involved in our business about this? To protect the health of non-smokers? I’m sorry, but really. Smoking laws coming from a government who can’t clean up the air or water from industry pollution? Let’s see. The EPA was created when? 1970? Gloriosa, don’t even get me started.

With the help of a prescription written by my doctor, it really hasn’t been too tough. Not as tough as I thought it might be. Tough enough though, that I hope I make it this time ‘cause I’m not sure I’d do it again.

So, you people who think the whole world needs to hear what you’re saying into that cell phone of yours? If you see me smoking – please try to have this number handy – 1-800-424-8802. That’s the number for the EPA National Response Center. It’s the number you call to report an environmental emergency. Better to do that than tap me on the shoulder to give me your opinion about my smoking.

Kaye Barley