Peg Herring's Blog, page 45
May 13, 2010
Makin' It Work
A long-ago conversation comes to mind:
A rather pedantic professor once asked a friend of mine, who is from Texas, what he was going to do after class. His reply: "I'm repairin' to go to lunch."
The prof apparently saw a chance to lecture on a favorite topic. "You people from the South are so careless!" she told him. "Pay attention to your wording. You meant that you are PREPARING to go to lunch after class. You should not have said REPAIRING. REPAIR means "to fix."
"That's what I meant," said the Texan. "I'm fixin' to go have lunch."
A rather pedantic professor once asked a friend of mine, who is from Texas, what he was going to do after class. His reply: "I'm repairin' to go to lunch."
The prof apparently saw a chance to lecture on a favorite topic. "You people from the South are so careless!" she told him. "Pay attention to your wording. You meant that you are PREPARING to go to lunch after class. You should not have said REPAIRING. REPAIR means "to fix."
"That's what I meant," said the Texan. "I'm fixin' to go have lunch."
May 12, 2010
I Want to Be a Cavewoman
The Geico cavemen resent being called "simple", but I've been thinking that the life of a cave person might not be so bad.
First, no television, so no commercials that insidiously plant the idea that we need things.
No government. Just think of the relief that would be!
No money. You go out every day and find what you need to survive. Done.
No preoccupation with looks. If nobody combed their hair, shaved their legs, brushed their teeth...
You get the idea.
No doctors. You die when you die, and if it comes at a young age, at least you didn't have to watch your skin wrinkle up like a craison, feel your joints swell and resist movement, and sense that your memory and logic skills are fading.
And a very small community. No knowledge of people starving somewhere, battered by hurricanes somewhere, suffering from war somewhere, and experiencing a famine somewhere. Cavepeople have a dozen other humans that they care about. And maybe a dog.
First, no television, so no commercials that insidiously plant the idea that we need things.
No government. Just think of the relief that would be!
No money. You go out every day and find what you need to survive. Done.
No preoccupation with looks. If nobody combed their hair, shaved their legs, brushed their teeth...
You get the idea.
No doctors. You die when you die, and if it comes at a young age, at least you didn't have to watch your skin wrinkle up like a craison, feel your joints swell and resist movement, and sense that your memory and logic skills are fading.
And a very small community. No knowledge of people starving somewhere, battered by hurricanes somewhere, suffering from war somewhere, and experiencing a famine somewhere. Cavepeople have a dozen other humans that they care about. And maybe a dog.
May 11, 2010
And Then There Are the Naked Men
I've known people who had a talent for breaking bones. Others can't seem to get anywhere on time, and a few win every raffle they enter, at least it seems that way. But my favorite is a relative who runs into a naked man about once a year. No, she doesn't go to Foxxy Frenchmen shows or join nudist colonies. They come to her, and she has no idea why.
She managed an apartment building. One day a man knocked on her door to report "a naked man barking like a dog." Sure enough, one of her tenants had neglected his meds and was terrifying his neighbors with canine antics.
She lived in an apartment complex where a man chose nakedness when he was in his own home. His choice, except he lived in a terrace apartment and also chose to leave the blinds open and the lights on. Her choice, after a few incidents, was to exit on the other side of the building.
Another time she was working at a small business where her office was on the second floor. Through the windowed entry door, she saw a man coming up the stairs, shirtless. Odd, but not unheard of. When he opened the door and came in, however, she saw that he was everything-less. He informed her that he'd found explosives in his clothing (apparently planted by aliens) and therefore had left it on the sidewalk below. Her solution? Give the nice man a ride in a police car.
We all have talents we recognize. Some we cultivate; some we try to hide under the Biblical bushel. Maybe this relative of mine should carry a bushel with her wherever she goes. It would just about hide the parts these men are showing off, the parts she has no desire to see.
She managed an apartment building. One day a man knocked on her door to report "a naked man barking like a dog." Sure enough, one of her tenants had neglected his meds and was terrifying his neighbors with canine antics.
She lived in an apartment complex where a man chose nakedness when he was in his own home. His choice, except he lived in a terrace apartment and also chose to leave the blinds open and the lights on. Her choice, after a few incidents, was to exit on the other side of the building.
Another time she was working at a small business where her office was on the second floor. Through the windowed entry door, she saw a man coming up the stairs, shirtless. Odd, but not unheard of. When he opened the door and came in, however, she saw that he was everything-less. He informed her that he'd found explosives in his clothing (apparently planted by aliens) and therefore had left it on the sidewalk below. Her solution? Give the nice man a ride in a police car.
We all have talents we recognize. Some we cultivate; some we try to hide under the Biblical bushel. Maybe this relative of mine should carry a bushel with her wherever she goes. It would just about hide the parts these men are showing off, the parts she has no desire to see.
May 10, 2010
The Incredible Vomiting Cat
Authors often brag about their pets, and I guess it's time you met Alice, the IVC. Cats don't have opposible thumbs, voiceboxes, or much of a thought process, but Alice does a lot with what she does have: vomit.
First, Alice communicates with vomit. When we're getting ready to eat a meal, she assures us that we do not need to set a place for her at the table. A pool of barf says quite clearly: "I've already eaten."
Second, she uses her talent as a teaching tool. How else did we learn to ALWAYS put our slippers on when wandering the house at night?
Third, our cat compensates for her inability to express herself verbally or in writing. Nothing says, "I'm upset because you left me home alone all day," like a pile of half-digested Special Kitty. And how else would she tell us that she hasn't been getting enough attention? The sound of ralphing in the kitchen is sure to bring someone to see what's (coming) up.
As with all artwork, placement is important. Alice used to like our bed for her little messages, but since we banned her from there, she chooses to vary her offerings: the cream-colored living room carpet, the back of the couch ( for a nicely draped visual effect), a secluded windowsill where it won't be found for days, and the small rug in the kitchen, apparently a test of her aim. If we anticipate (from ominous sounds) an upchucking episode, we've given up trying to catch her and put her outside in time. It just spreads the joy, usually up the stairs and down the hallway.
The vet says Alice is perfectly healthy, and she's been doing this for at least fifteen years, so it doesn't seem to be a medical issue. It is simply her way of keeping us in line, and we've responded well. We are trained to jump to Alice's command, always ready with paper towels and the Little Green Spotlifting Machine.
First, Alice communicates with vomit. When we're getting ready to eat a meal, she assures us that we do not need to set a place for her at the table. A pool of barf says quite clearly: "I've already eaten."
Second, she uses her talent as a teaching tool. How else did we learn to ALWAYS put our slippers on when wandering the house at night?
Third, our cat compensates for her inability to express herself verbally or in writing. Nothing says, "I'm upset because you left me home alone all day," like a pile of half-digested Special Kitty. And how else would she tell us that she hasn't been getting enough attention? The sound of ralphing in the kitchen is sure to bring someone to see what's (coming) up.
As with all artwork, placement is important. Alice used to like our bed for her little messages, but since we banned her from there, she chooses to vary her offerings: the cream-colored living room carpet, the back of the couch ( for a nicely draped visual effect), a secluded windowsill where it won't be found for days, and the small rug in the kitchen, apparently a test of her aim. If we anticipate (from ominous sounds) an upchucking episode, we've given up trying to catch her and put her outside in time. It just spreads the joy, usually up the stairs and down the hallway.
The vet says Alice is perfectly healthy, and she's been doing this for at least fifteen years, so it doesn't seem to be a medical issue. It is simply her way of keeping us in line, and we've responded well. We are trained to jump to Alice's command, always ready with paper towels and the Little Green Spotlifting Machine.
May 7, 2010
I'm a Kindlette!
I just found my e-book, GO HOME AND DIE, is now available on Kindle. That's so cool.
Now if I just had a Kindle of my very own!
Now if I just had a Kindle of my very own!
May 5, 2010
Me/Write Time
Circumstances resulted in a wonderful situation. After Malice, I needed to hang around the East Coast for a couple of days, alone. I considered some touristing, driving up the coast or visting some museums, but some writing tasks were piling up. I decided to check into a hotel and work on them.
It is bliss! For two full days, I have had complete concentration, total quiet, and no distractions. I just wrote, and wrote, and wrote.
I'm not sure how long I could keep it up until I miss human contact, but I recommend everyone try it. You don't even have to shower, 'cause who cares? :)
It is bliss! For two full days, I have had complete concentration, total quiet, and no distractions. I just wrote, and wrote, and wrote.
I'm not sure how long I could keep it up until I miss human contact, but I recommend everyone try it. You don't even have to shower, 'cause who cares? :)
May 4, 2010
Judging Books
I am a person of strong opinions, at least where books are concerned. However, I'm not likely to share them publicly, as in "I hated Jane Smith's newest release because..." Here's why.
Book-loving is subjective for me, as I suspect it is for most. I can't get past a weak plot or an unlikeable protagonist or side trips that muddy the story for no reason. I am aware that these are my own prejudices, and I am also aware that others often don't mind such things. This does not make me a great judge of reading material, and it makes my opinion less than relevant to your choices.
I have a friend who reviews books, and she's much better at viewing the whole "picture" that a book presents. Yes, she sees the plot holes, but they don't necessarily ruin the book for her. She can state clearly what it is she did not appreciate without rejecting the book as a whole. She can say what was appealing despite the 6-page rant from a secondary character on the pitfalls of psychology or the rather rocky ending that didn't quite add up.
Most people read for entertainment. Writers and reviewers read with more intensity, having an additional reason to read. I see mistakes I want to avoid. My friend sees areas for comment in her review. But her opinion will be more helpful to you than mine, because she weighs the good with the bad and comes up with a balanced review.
I just get frustrated and give up.
Book-loving is subjective for me, as I suspect it is for most. I can't get past a weak plot or an unlikeable protagonist or side trips that muddy the story for no reason. I am aware that these are my own prejudices, and I am also aware that others often don't mind such things. This does not make me a great judge of reading material, and it makes my opinion less than relevant to your choices.
I have a friend who reviews books, and she's much better at viewing the whole "picture" that a book presents. Yes, she sees the plot holes, but they don't necessarily ruin the book for her. She can state clearly what it is she did not appreciate without rejecting the book as a whole. She can say what was appealing despite the 6-page rant from a secondary character on the pitfalls of psychology or the rather rocky ending that didn't quite add up.
Most people read for entertainment. Writers and reviewers read with more intensity, having an additional reason to read. I see mistakes I want to avoid. My friend sees areas for comment in her review. But her opinion will be more helpful to you than mine, because she weighs the good with the bad and comes up with a balanced review.
I just get frustrated and give up.
May 3, 2010
The Party's Over
We left Malice after closing ceremonies on Sunday, tired but happy. The traditional farewell tea was lovely, and I'd like to commend those who work so hard to make Malice a success each year. It's an effort-laden thing, making such an event look effortless.
Malice is a con devoted to (but not exclusive to) cozy writers, those who seldom dismember their vicitms and never in detail. Still, we are mystery writers, and death isn't pretty. At Malice one meets authors who include along with the murder and mayhem recipes, quilting patterns, crossword puzzles, and all manner of screwball occupations, from cheese shop owners to purse-dog trainers.
At this year's Malice, Mary Higgins Clark was honored for lifetime achievement, and William Link, of television fame with shows such as Mannix, also received recognition for his work in entertaining mysteries.
I traveled with my friend, reviewer P.J. Coldren, and met there her friend Luci Zahray, known as the Poison Lady because she helps writers poison their (fictitious) victims and not get caught. I also met a friend from other conferences, Barbara Graham, whose third book in the Tony and Theo series is in the works and should be every bit as exciting as the first two.
Prizes went to Louise Penny for best novel, A BRUTAL TELLING, and Allan Bradley for best first novel, THE SWEETNESS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PIE. Mr. Bradley is an inspiration to all of us "mature" writers, winning such an award at 70 years of age or thereabouts.
Cons like Malice make me both glad and sad. I love seeing friends, meeting new people, hearing bits of gossip and helpful advice. But it's a bit deflating to see so many likeable, talented people all vying for any little slit of spotlight, smiling eagerly at the fans in hopes someone will say, "Oh, I think I'm going to buy your book."
A woman in the elevator told me, "I've begun reading your book, and I'm really enjoying it." That alone is worth the price of admission.
Malice is a con devoted to (but not exclusive to) cozy writers, those who seldom dismember their vicitms and never in detail. Still, we are mystery writers, and death isn't pretty. At Malice one meets authors who include along with the murder and mayhem recipes, quilting patterns, crossword puzzles, and all manner of screwball occupations, from cheese shop owners to purse-dog trainers.
At this year's Malice, Mary Higgins Clark was honored for lifetime achievement, and William Link, of television fame with shows such as Mannix, also received recognition for his work in entertaining mysteries.
I traveled with my friend, reviewer P.J. Coldren, and met there her friend Luci Zahray, known as the Poison Lady because she helps writers poison their (fictitious) victims and not get caught. I also met a friend from other conferences, Barbara Graham, whose third book in the Tony and Theo series is in the works and should be every bit as exciting as the first two.
Prizes went to Louise Penny for best novel, A BRUTAL TELLING, and Allan Bradley for best first novel, THE SWEETNESS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PIE. Mr. Bradley is an inspiration to all of us "mature" writers, winning such an award at 70 years of age or thereabouts.
Cons like Malice make me both glad and sad. I love seeing friends, meeting new people, hearing bits of gossip and helpful advice. But it's a bit deflating to see so many likeable, talented people all vying for any little slit of spotlight, smiling eagerly at the fans in hopes someone will say, "Oh, I think I'm going to buy your book."
A woman in the elevator told me, "I've begun reading your book, and I'm really enjoying it." That alone is worth the price of admission.
April 30, 2010
Malice Doings
I'm going to imagine that you have never been to a mystery convention and tell you what happens, at least at this one. Malice Domestic is one of the larger cons, always held in Arlington, VA around the end of April. It's cozy based, which means most of those who attend write, read, or help to publish and promote cozy mysteries. These are mysteries that are less violent, less police oriented, and often involve amateur sleuths.
Today is the first day of the con, and people are checking in and learning their way around. This morning we'll have some introductory meetings, most of which I will not attend, since I've been here before. Those of us who don't attend a panel in any one time slot are likely to be found sitting in groups, talking about (or complaining about) the publishing industry.
After lunch we'll have panels that discuss or people who explain aspects of mystery. One of my favorites, The Poison Lady, is Luci Zahray, a full time pharmacist and part time adviser on how to kill people (IN YOUR MYSTERY NOVEL ONLY. DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.)
We'll have other panels and interviews through the afternoon. I'll be looking for people I've met at other cons so we can catch up. I'll be checking out the book room, giving away freebies to publicize my books, and enjoying the ambiance.
Today is the first day of the con, and people are checking in and learning their way around. This morning we'll have some introductory meetings, most of which I will not attend, since I've been here before. Those of us who don't attend a panel in any one time slot are likely to be found sitting in groups, talking about (or complaining about) the publishing industry.
After lunch we'll have panels that discuss or people who explain aspects of mystery. One of my favorites, The Poison Lady, is Luci Zahray, a full time pharmacist and part time adviser on how to kill people (IN YOUR MYSTERY NOVEL ONLY. DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.)
We'll have other panels and interviews through the afternoon. I'll be looking for people I've met at other cons so we can catch up. I'll be checking out the book room, giving away freebies to publicize my books, and enjoying the ambiance.
April 29, 2010
Horton, We Are Here!
Two days' driving, but it was beautiful all the way. Traffic was okay and the Garmin did the rest. (I love that thing!) So here I am at the Marriott, ready for Malice Domestic, wishing I could live like this for at least a month. Lots of people who love to talk about books, lots of fancy food and attentive hotel staff (if you tip well), and the chance to see old friends, make new friends, and see my heroes of the writing world.
Cool.
Cool.
