Ginger Simpson's Blog, page 39

Girl Scout Cookies

Juliet Waldron's Amazon Author Page
(Dishin’ It Out—Ginger’s title for this blog—keeps me talking about food. You’d think I was on a diet or something, the number of times I’ve blogged about food lately. While it's past time for a diet, I’m too much in the “Garfield” frame of mind. The chubby cartoon cat explained that “'Diet' is just
'Die' with a T.” For this story, though, the cookies are just the lead in.) 
Riding my clunky step-through “Granny” bike the other day I crossed town, the first cycle ride of the year to the grocery store, 4+ miles away. It’s usually an odds and ends journey for obvious reasons, but it’s an errand I can run without firing up the car. On a bright spring day, it makes sense.   I pulled up, locked the bike, collected my stuff and headed in.
At the door, I was met by a brightly smiling young lady carrying a sign announcing that it was the cookie time of year!   And there they were, boxes and boxes of cookies stacked on a table just inside the door, surrounded by cute kids and tired-looking moms tending their display. I promised to purchase some on the way out, but the sight of those girls, badges on display, made me remember my own cookie seller days.


My Scout cookie sales were few because I lived in the country. We had exactly three families nearby, one of whom was just so stone weird we mostly ignored them.   This left me the kindly dairy farmers across Route 20 and the pleasant couple who ran the little motel which lay two alfalfa fields beyond our house. Of course, my mom bought a few boxes and some of her bridge friends also purchased a few from me, but we didn’t have any local relatives, and most of the people we knew had girl scouts of their own.  Still, I always made the effort, and effort, sometimes, it truly was.
Cookie Time is traditionally March. Here in South Central Pa we had a single humdinger of a snow storm closely followed by 80 degree weather—in short, not at all like my childhood experience of winter.  Back then, in the fifties, in Skaneateles, New York, we could literally have feet of the fatal white piled all over us straight through March. Route 20, which my parents jokingly said they could tell time by – the grumble and grind of the snow plow’s passage, every hour on the hour during winter -- was a narrow twilight corridor hedged in by mountains of ice-glazed accretion.



I remember going out to deliver my cookies, lugging the big brown box that held them, and hoping I’d get to where I was going before a truck or yet another snow plow came along. I’d see the headlights approaching and have to struggle up and onto the snow bank to get off the road. Some years those banks were frozen so hard that I'd skin my knee right through the leggings if I fell while trying to get out of the way. Some years, the banks had begun to melt, like a Pleistocene glacier, filling the road with melt water torrents and my boots with grungy snow if I broke through during a climb to safety.



Either way, the plows were fearsome, about as big as machines got in those days, with huge upswept blades, blinding lights, and a driver peering out a small window high overhead. If they caught sight of me in the twilight, a small figure perched on the nearby bank, they usually appeared surprised.  Eventually, I’d arrive in one or the other family’s warm kitchen with snow and gravel inside my boots, make the delivery and then trudge back home again, always alert for the clink-clink-clank of tire chains, ready to escape up the bank again.  
 
Juliet WaldronSee all my historical novels @http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004HIX4GS

Sunday Snips and Stuff #snipsand stuff

I apologize for missing last week.  I ended up with my mother at the ER and spent a good part of the day there.  She's still recuperating.  At 91, it takes a while.  :)

Today I'm sharing a portion of my upcoming "Mail Order" bride story, Desperation's Bride.  I'm really excited to have a new project and I hope you enjoy today's offering.  Remember, this is a first draft and not perfect by any means:


Clara sat at the splintery kitchen table, her bare toes curled against the hard-swept dirt floor while she peeled potatoes for dinner's stew. Two weeks had passed since she’d made an excuse to mail her last response to Jason, and now time spun a web around her, making her anxious.  “Ma, have you ever seen the train station in Marysville?”
Her mother looked up from the cupboard where she rolled out dough for a dried apple pie. “Why would you ask such a strange question?”
Continuing with her peeling, Clara calmed her breathing.  “Just curious, that’s all.  I’ve not been in that part of town since the railroad began operating.  I’ve always wanted to take a trip in one of those fancy windowed cars.”
“Don’t see that will ever happen.”  Ma floured the dough and rolled it flat with her wooden cylinder. “This is our home and we have no plans to leave.”  
“Do you have any idea how far it is to Beatrice, NE?”  Clara tried to make her query sound casual.

“Why ever would you ask that?  I’m not sure I understand all these questions.”
“I…I saw a flyer in the mercantile the other day and it made me wonder…no particular reason.”  The lie tasted bitter on her tongue.
Ma shrugged.  “I’ve not traveled except from Independence to here with your father, but I did hear women at Church discussing that the Burlington and Missouri River Railroad now runs from Lincoln to Beatrice. Not sure when that happened.”  She plopped her dough into a round tin.  “We should be proud to be witness to such advances in travel.  I suffered coming here on a wagon train with your Pa, and it was definitely not as comfortable as I imagine a train would be.”
“Oh, tell me about it, Ma, you’ve never shared that story.”  Clara put down a potato and her knife and leaned on her palms.
Ma sighed. “It was a long and tiring ride.  We had to leave many of our things behind because the oxen couldn’t stand the strain of pulling a big wagon and all the other weight. The days were long, hot, and filled with work from sun-up to sundown.”  Her gaze lowered.  “A lot of good folks died on that trip in the short distance we came…drownings, illness, even a few run over by their own conveyances.”
“What do you mean by short distance?”  Clara cocked her head.
“Your Pa and I joined up in Independence, which is where most wagon trains depart for Oregon and California.  In fact, the trail has been named the Oregon Trail for the many people seeking new lives out west.”  Her eyes brightened.  “Luckily, you’re father had researched Kansas and knew we would pass right through this place.  We dropped off here because your father believed the Overland Stage and the Pony express would put Marysville on the map, and they have.   I’m just sorry he didn’t live long enough to see and do all he wanted.”  She turned her attention back to the pie, placing cross pieces of dough over the dried apples.  “Oh well,” she said.  “That was another lifetime, and I’m just thankful to have a home and family again.”

Clara stifled an inward gasp.  Now was not the time to share her intentions.  Ma would be very upset at the prospect of her daughter leaving.  The silence begged for words.  “I’m glad you made the trip safely, Ma, and I’m certain Pa would be very proud of you today.  You’re a strong woman and a good wife.  I love you very much.”
******I'm making good progress on this one and look forward to announcing a release date soon.  Stay tuned...and in the meantime, jump on over to the following blogs and see what's up today:

ttp://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)
http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)
http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)

Using Emotion, Conflict and Tension in your writing.

A while back, I took a course offered by Cheryl St. John, a very talented and multi-published author. I learned so much, I asked her permission to share some of the material with you and she graciously agreed.

I can't explain the need for emotion much better than Cheryl.  "A story without strong emotions is a not story brought to life."

It's true.  Readers want to feel, and unless you add emotions for them to share, they aren't going to remember your work.  By using words that trigger emotions, you can engage continued purchases.  Find words that evoke mental pictures and feelings.

I'm a big fan of my Thesaurus, because I get annoyed when writer's use the same word over and over within a few paragraphs.  Sometimes, duplication is used for emphasis, but to me, the constant use of one word indicates laziness.

There are many words that share the same meaning, for example, if you want to show interest and want words that emphasize the meaning, try:

Alert
Betwitched
Captivated
Concerned
Devoted
Eager
Fascinated
Impressed
Turned On
Yearning
Zealous

There are tons to show someone feeling threatened or insecure:
Abused
Aching
Agonized
Bitter
Burdened
Cheated
Cheerless
Cold
Condemned
Crushed
Dark
Deceived
Dejected
Depressed
Deprived
Despondent
Destructive
the list goes on and on.  To give you an example of how a few simple words can change your story, let's see which your like best:

Jane, threatned against someone breaking into her house, locked the door.

Now again...with more emotion and showing the reader Jane's insecurities:

Given the rash of burglaries in the neighborhood, Jane agonized over someone breaking into her home.  Jittery fingers manipulated the deadbolt until a distinctive click sounded.

In the second example, can't you feel Jane's apprehension and get a better sense of her concern? Remember...don't be repetitive.

I'll be sharing more examples from Ms. St. John's awesome class in future posts, but since she may not offer personal instruction again soon, I highly recommend her book,

My opinion:  One of the problems I see today:  a lot of people who self-publish believe they were born knowing how to write a book.  That's so untrue.  There is a right of passage to becoming a seasoned author, and people like Cheryl are who we can turn to to learn.  Thanks, pal, for letting me look smarter than I am.

Why We Like Cowboys. by Connie Vines

Who hasn't thought about the cowboys of yesteryear driving cattle across the prairie, a lawman riding for justice, a modern day rodeo cowboy, or the rancher down the road?  
What woman hasn't sighed?
There is something about a man in western boots, denim, and a Stetson cowboy hat that makes a woman's heart rate jump and her mouth go dry.
Is it their manners, chivalry, sense of justice, or the fact they take off their hats and say, "Thany you, Ma'am?"  All I know-- Cowboys have the "it" factor for me and many other women.
The swagger of a rodeo cowboy, the set jaw and stance of a lawman, the easy way the rancher leans over the corral fence. . .sigh.  There is something about cowboys
I write about cowboys in both the past and now.  I try to capture the raw maleness that seems to seep from their pours.  These are men who defend a woman honor or protect a child.  Men who will fight barehanded.    They respect women.  I believe it is because in days of the old West, women were few and far between.  Men were happy to have a female to cater to, and wanted them to hang around.
The saying goes:  A cowboy's hands are as strong as steel, as tough as leather, but soft enough to touch a humming bird's wing or the skin of a woman---and not disturbing the beauty of either.
Happy Thursday,
Connie Vines

You Don't Know Beans

http://www.julietwaldron.com
All my historical novels 
But you probably do know a little about them, even if it’s just those sad cans of beans and franks at the supermarket, or the kidney beans that show up in chili, or the tomato-sauced ones that appear at summer picnics.Beans taste best cooked from scratch, but when Mom and Pop both work, this appears to take too much time. I used to be in this boat, but I was also in the boat with the folks who don’t get paid much for their 40 hours a week, so I couldn’t easily leave beans out of my weekly grocery equation. They were and are cheap food that is good for you and your kiddies.   (Way back, when I first learned about bean cookery, we lived in the back of beyond, so there was no fast food temptation around—not that there was anywhere the amount of what foodie Michael Pollen calls “corporate food” in supermarkets and beside the highways to expand everyone’s waistline.)  

I’d make a big pot on Sunday, using bones and drippings from our once a week chicken. In the fridge, those beans would last for days to be reheated and served in various combinations. They might be curried, dressed with sunflower seeds, chopped apples and raisins and poured over rice, or chili-peppered and served, with a little ground meat and cheese, over spagetti. 

Nowadays, I start my beans with a good wash in a strainer, followed by a hand sort—back in the good old days there was sometimes rat poo as well as stones and dirt in among the beans.  (Blessedly, it’s been several decades since I’ve found this unsavory additive.) Then, put them to soak overnight.  You may add bay leaves now, onion flakes, pepper, dried celery and other aromatics. Originally, back in my wood stove days, I’d just put them straight away onto the back where it was warm, not hot, and leave overnight.  If you want to hurry the process, you can boil for five minutes, then cover and let them stand for an hour. After, you discard the water and begin again—especially if you are feeding someone who complains that beans make them gassy. This parboiling will hasten the cooking process.  (BTW the more frequently you eat beans, the easier they digest, as your body learns the trick.)
But all that basic advice may be found on the back of the bag or in your "big fat" cookbook. There are many kinds of beans, and they'll give you a world tour of eating—and that’s the interesting part to me. Currently, I’m working my way through several different kinds, because each lends itself to different recipes.
 
Kidney beans, big and red, can be cooked and used cold in green salads. If cooked with onion, garlic, oregano, and chili powder, and mixed with browned ground meat and onions to make chili. Red beans cook faster than pintos, but likewise can be used for refritos—mashed with a wooden spoon and cooked again in oil in a heavy pan, you’ll end with a basic south-of-the-border taco stuffing.  Limas, a.k.a. “butter beans” in this neck of the woods, fresh or dried, are delicious when cooked slowly in chicken stock, with celery, onion and parsley. They make their own creamy sauce.   
Split peas and lentils cook fast. The former are made to be cooked with a ham bone, a pig’s foot, or just lots of carrots, potatoes and onion.  The yellow and red varieties are delicate and will cook to a mushy nothing if you aren’t careful.  Yellow lentils, mixed with yogurt and curry powder, approximate Dal, an Indian favorite. 

Black beans lend themselves to cooking with a Spanish or Portuguese flare. Cook them with tomatoes, garlic, onions, and a big squeeze of fresh orange juice.  Serve over rice and alongside more of those cooked greens--only this supper time you'll be dining in Brazil instead of the Deep South.

Black-eyed peas and white beans are still the darlings of the south, especially good cooked with pork odds and ends and accompanied with dishes of greens and cornbread.  Cooked white beans (or pintos) can go into the bottom of a well-oiled iron skillet, covered with a cornbread mixture and then baked into that original hand-held American take-out food, the venerable cornpone.  

   I think you'll be surprised if you give some of these recipes a try at how good the humble bean can taste. You can make them over the weekend, freeze what you don't use, and/or just dip into the pot for a couple of days as we used to do until they are gone. Your budget will benefit, too.  ~~~ Juliet WaldronSee all my historical novels @http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004HIX4GS 

Giveway - Free Copy of The Pendant and a Locket #giveaway

Can you consider a necklace a gift if it makes you angry enough to kill? 

A simple trinket left in a confessional begins a path of destruction throughout the years. 

The silver pendant, left behind by a woman who killed her boyfriend, is supposedly cursed; at least that’s what she claimed before she raced out of the church. Anyone who dares fasten the locket around her neck suffers severe and uncontrollable anger. Woe be it to anyone who gets in the path of the wearer. 

Is the piece cursed, or are the deaths totally unrelated? Detective Clarence O’Day is unwilling to make the connection—until forty years after the first case.



If you would like to win a copy of The Pendant plus your own locket...this one not cursed and filled only with blessings for health, weath, and love, please leave a comment and I will select TWO winners.

Creating the Perfect Environment for Your Writing by Connie Vines

Do you know what you need from your environment in order to write?

If not, it is time to find out.

Our physical surroundings are immensely important to our writing process.

Far more important than most people think.

We cannot work if we are distracted, annoyed, or constantly interrupted.  We need to feel inspired and comfortable in our surroundings in order to be creative.

If your home office is cluttered with papers, laundry, and stacks of research materials, it is not the right place to write.

The mess might distract you and make you miserable, because it sends a signal about the kind of work environment you think you deserve.

It is just as bad if your office is empty. Writers work best in a creative atmosphere.

If inspiration disappears when you sit down to write you must reassess your surroundings.
Sometimes removing the clutter and reorganization of your work area will do the trick.  Other times, you need a more drastic approach.

Create a Place to Thrive.

I need privacy to work on big projects like a novel.  My Pandora app on my iPhone and my BOSE speaker create the perfect blend of music that centers me in my storyline. New Orleans Jazz now, but it was country and western when I was writing my rodeo romance. As a rule, I type or dictate to my computer while writing, but I keep a pen and composition book close by to make notes.

Do You Feel Inspired in Your Writing Place?



If not, what do you need to do to make your work space inspirational?

Perhaps you are a writer who must have activity all around, all the time-- 24/7.  Since my day job is at a middle school, I am unable to relate to such a need.  However, the library café, coffee shop, or park picnic table may be your perfect writing place.

Ditch the Distractions.

Television blasting, cell phone ‘pings’, Facebook alert messages, the must ‘do list’ at the corner of your desk, all must be out of sight.  I must have all other work in progress or notes on future projects in my filing cabinet.  If I have my notes visible, I am excessively tempted to work on this project too.

Make Your Writing Work Space Beautiful.   


Sit on a quality chair, fresh flowers, candles, a window, favorite mug, favorite pen.  Any item that makes you spend more time in your writing space.  What makes you happy?

Of course, a tailor-built writing space, or even a room dedicated as your office, is not always possible.  Be creative.  Find your personal writing space.

Happy Writing and Reading,

Connie Vines

Drop the Phone and Step Away...

Time for a granny rant, I think, but I’ll start with a pleasant trip down memory lane. When I was small, there were telephones in most houses in the town where I lived, although many were party lines. The type of ring told if the call was for you.  Some folks snooped on their neighbors by listening in. Although it wasn’t polite, people did it sometimes. If you had any sense, you didn’t share secrets on the phone.
Then we got a private line. This came even before the television did, in an old house we’d just moved into. Daddy was back from the war now and had gotten a better job, so we could leave Grandpa & Grandma’s. Post War, housing was tight everywhere, as were jobs.
 “Ma Bell” was the omnipresent phone company. Her stock was stable and her employees were many and well paid. In the mid-fifties, we moved to upstate NY and I learned to call my grandparents by dialing the operator and giving her the number and the name. You’d hang on the line until she got the connection, or, if it was taking a long time, she would call back when the connection was made.   This was an expensive service and not done casually, especially by kids. Life went on, more connections were made across the world, area codes appeared and operators disappeared, and so on, but essentially, nothing basic changed—until the arrival of the cell phone.
Through that handy portal, we entered the funhouse of now, where the cell phone has not only become a camera, but is linked to the internet. This enticing, ever-expanding labyrinth leads us along, paying no attention to where we're really going--into the science fiction belly the beast. Our fascination with the electronic world shapes us, our behavior, even the wiring in our brains.   There's no way to stop it as long as the grid stays up. All we can do is attempt to stay sufficiently objective to observe the world as it changes around us, while we watch the people on every side becoming more and more engrossed in their devices. Some people--on foot and worse, in cars--aren't looking where they are going anymore. All their attention is focused on that little box in their hand. 
 
The only thing left to do now is to occasionally be an old cow of a busy-body at the coffee shop, and remind young mothers to stop fixating on their darn phones and pay attention to the kids they've got strapped into those fancy strollers, the ones they are currently ignoring. Kids are only small, adorable and plastic like that for a very brief time. It will be over before you know it.

This is time when you are supposed to bond with them, to love them, talk to them and just as important, listen to them. It’s when they learn to be human, so now's when you've got to shine on them like the sun. Remember, too, adolescence will be here in no time, so you better forge a good relationship now. Remember, too, “the cat’s in the cradle…”
 ~~Juliet Waldron
   

 
See all my novels @                                                      http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004HIX4GS
 
 

Sundays Snips and Stuff #snips&stuff #gingersimpson

We're changing our format a little.  I like being able to offer information other than tidbits from books, so like our Connie has been doing, today I'm sharing something different...responses to questions I recently posed about book covers:

1.  Most responders prefer people on the cover over just scenery.

2.  In series, it seems to be important to readers that the same people appear on the cover.  Specifically one response represented most answers:

"As for series covers, if the H/H from book 1 are the same for book 2, then I want to see them on the cover for book 2. If they are not the same H/H in book 2, then I prefer to see the new couple on the cover. And yes, matching covers models to characters is important to me."

3.  It's extremely bothersome to responders when the cover model does not match the description of the hero/heroine in the book.  For example...the heroine is blonde and there is a brunette on the cover.

4.  I also asked about video trailers and how closely the cover art should match the pictures used.  This was a mixed bag.  Some people don't even view trailers, others don't care because they use the video to see what books are about.

Feel free to leave your comments about your preferences.  I like learning new things.


You can view my covers and books on my Amazon page.

Now, hop on over to my friends and see what they're sharing today:

http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)

http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com (Juliet Waldron)

http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)

Cover Poll - I need your response #commentswanted

I'm very curious how important readers (and this includes authors)feel the images on the cover are to you when purchasing a book:

1.  Are you more likely to purchase a book that has people on the cover.

2.  Do you prefer background only.

3.  In a series, where one cover shows one image and then on the continuation of the story, a totally different woman is shown...how would that influence your decision?

4.  How about hair color.  If the heroine is a blonde, how disturbed are you to see a brunette on the cover?

5.  How about video trailers...how closely do the pictures need to be to the actual description of your characters?

What other issues do you consider when looking at covers, i.e., caricatures, shirtless cowboys on stories based in the Old West?

Also, I'm very interested to know when reading FICTION, how important do you feel it is for the author to have researched details when writing an historical story?

I know commenting is not a favorite pastime,, but please take a moment to help out an author who is trying to prove a point.

You can view all my covers on Amazon.

Ginger