Mary R. Davidsaver's Blog, page 13
August 4, 2017
Two Reviews for Susan Furlong
Peaches and Scream
Peaches and Scream by Susan Furlong is an excellent introduction into the complicated life of Nola Mae Harper. She’s a Georgiabelle who went AWOL after high school and has returned to sort out her life. She has issues with family, friends, job, and finding a body leaning against a peach tree on the family farm. Furlong leads the reader through the streets of Cays Mill as she piles up clues about a host of suspects. She then takes us on to a bumpy ride over narrow back roads to the final twist of an ending that I never saw coming.
War and Peach Review
I thought the Harper clan had its share of adversity piled pretty high in Susan Furlong’s third visit to Cays Mill, Georgia. Most of it thanks a long-standing grudge nursed by a peevish sheriff who can let important clues slip by. Though, I have to admit that those clues slipped by me as well. All thanks to the clever writing of the author. Furlong made me wait to the very end to fully reveal all the guilty parties.
Both books were well plotted out, stocked with believable and approachable characters, and true to the cozy mystery genre.
And the recipes were more than just window dressing or sources for peachy humor. I really learned to like peach salsa and how to thaw out frozen fruit. It works. All of this really works. Good reads all the way around.
Peaches and Scream by Susan Furlong is an excellent introduction into the complicated life of Nola Mae Harper. She’s a Georgiabelle who went AWOL after high school and has returned to sort out her life. She has issues with family, friends, job, and finding a body leaning against a peach tree on the family farm. Furlong leads the reader through the streets of Cays Mill as she piles up clues about a host of suspects. She then takes us on to a bumpy ride over narrow back roads to the final twist of an ending that I never saw coming.
War and Peach Review
I thought the Harper clan had its share of adversity piled pretty high in Susan Furlong’s third visit to Cays Mill, Georgia. Most of it thanks a long-standing grudge nursed by a peevish sheriff who can let important clues slip by. Though, I have to admit that those clues slipped by me as well. All thanks to the clever writing of the author. Furlong made me wait to the very end to fully reveal all the guilty parties.
Both books were well plotted out, stocked with believable and approachable characters, and true to the cozy mystery genre.
And the recipes were more than just window dressing or sources for peachy humor. I really learned to like peach salsa and how to thaw out frozen fruit. It works. All of this really works. Good reads all the way around.
July 27, 2017
The Book Review and the Caterpillar
My Review for Furiousy Happy by Jenny Lawson:
I found the first third of the book difficult to get through. Lawson's revelations and frank assessments about her mental health were gripping and peppered with insane humor. Insane because I was reduced to bouts of teary-eyed laughter in places. The middle third was tamer. The Appendix: Interview with the Author situated in the middle of the book was a great idea and most helpful. The last third held the payoff--the real reason to make it to the end. For me is was The File of 24, which contains the letters from people who changed their minds about suicide, and Victor's answer to Jenny saying, "I felt like his life would be easier without me." His answer, "It might be easier. But it wouldn't be better."
Jenny Lawson's journey through life will never be easy, but it will be well documented in her personal style with interesting expletives, poignant stories of survival, growing self-awareness, and the laugh-out-loud funny.
It seems that whenever I read a Jenny Lawson book I get infected with her irreverent writing style. It happened with her first book, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, and to a lesser extent with the second,Furiously Happy.
I lived in Austin, TX and was taken with Lawson’s first book because of its location in what I remember as the Texas hill country. It struck a chord. Likewise the taxidermy. And the fun she had buying the gigantic metal rooster was amplified went I started seeing them for sale in eastern Iowa. Who knew they would become a thing. Anyway, I’ve been on a mission to document every sighting on my Facebook author’s page ever since. (My last photo entry had like a dozen.)
As I said, I liked her free-wheeling writing style and could channel it way too easily. So much so that I had to force myself to stop. I’m not her.
However, I’ve come back to that style once again and it may save me for this weekend. You see I jumped at a chance to be part of a new event at the QC Botanical Center in Rock Island. Jane had asked if I had anything nature related. I asked if Monarch butterflies counted? She said yes. I said yes. When I had a minute more to think about what I’d done I realized I really didn’t have anything newer than a newspaper article published years ago when I first started my butterfly garden. I was in trouble.
Then we had a night of storm warnings, our smoke alarm went off at midnight, and everything fell into place. I had my own off-beat story to tell, in my own way, and in my own voice. I’ll find out what the reaction to it will be on Saturday.
Time to practice the delivery.
I found the first third of the book difficult to get through. Lawson's revelations and frank assessments about her mental health were gripping and peppered with insane humor. Insane because I was reduced to bouts of teary-eyed laughter in places. The middle third was tamer. The Appendix: Interview with the Author situated in the middle of the book was a great idea and most helpful. The last third held the payoff--the real reason to make it to the end. For me is was The File of 24, which contains the letters from people who changed their minds about suicide, and Victor's answer to Jenny saying, "I felt like his life would be easier without me." His answer, "It might be easier. But it wouldn't be better."
Jenny Lawson's journey through life will never be easy, but it will be well documented in her personal style with interesting expletives, poignant stories of survival, growing self-awareness, and the laugh-out-loud funny.
It seems that whenever I read a Jenny Lawson book I get infected with her irreverent writing style. It happened with her first book, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, and to a lesser extent with the second,Furiously Happy.
I lived in Austin, TX and was taken with Lawson’s first book because of its location in what I remember as the Texas hill country. It struck a chord. Likewise the taxidermy. And the fun she had buying the gigantic metal rooster was amplified went I started seeing them for sale in eastern Iowa. Who knew they would become a thing. Anyway, I’ve been on a mission to document every sighting on my Facebook author’s page ever since. (My last photo entry had like a dozen.)
As I said, I liked her free-wheeling writing style and could channel it way too easily. So much so that I had to force myself to stop. I’m not her.
However, I’ve come back to that style once again and it may save me for this weekend. You see I jumped at a chance to be part of a new event at the QC Botanical Center in Rock Island. Jane had asked if I had anything nature related. I asked if Monarch butterflies counted? She said yes. I said yes. When I had a minute more to think about what I’d done I realized I really didn’t have anything newer than a newspaper article published years ago when I first started my butterfly garden. I was in trouble.
Then we had a night of storm warnings, our smoke alarm went off at midnight, and everything fell into place. I had my own off-beat story to tell, in my own way, and in my own voice. I’ll find out what the reaction to it will be on Saturday.
Time to practice the delivery.
July 21, 2017
My Pattern for Building scenes
I came up with my system of building scenes by trial and error. I was working on my first mystery novel without a written-out outline.
I had my setting: the (real) village of Bishop Hill. I had the plot point of a (real) Swedish-born folk artist, who documented the 19th century colony period, have his last portrait lost for decades.
From there, I built my cast of characters by using bits and pieces of real people I knew and photo clippings I’d been saving. I got to know the ins and outs of my characters’ background by using several worksheets I picked up from workshops I’ve attended.
When it came time to construct the scenes that my characters would inhabit and would use get the action going I fell into a pattern that worked for me.
First came dialog. I decided on the principle speakers, usually two characters. I gave them a mission: what they needed to talk about, how much info to reveal, clues to drop, etc. I imagined their voices, but didn’t worry excessively about speech patterns at first. Then I set them in motion. I had them talk. Usually, they were well behaved and advanced the plot as I wanted. However, sometimes the new and unexpected happened. That was a bonus.
Setting came after I had my framework of dialog. I went back to add-in the details. Where were they: In a kitchen? In a café? In a barn? On a street?
When the setting was in place, I added action: I made them fidget with a napkin for instance, or hold a cup of coffee for its soothing warmth, the same for baking some muffins, or walk the streets looking and listening.
Next came the most difficult element for me to get in and to get right— emotion.
I went so far as to buy The Emotion Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Character Expression. (Okay, I didn’t buy it. I guilted a son into gifting it as a Christmas present.)
The last step was to add some little bits of business that made things fun. Giving the characters the drawl, twang, or melodic accent to set them apart. Replaying an inside joke from high school. Using a very common last name to excess.
What I’ve described is a process of adding layer upon layer to build a complex scene that moves the action forward and adds information about my people, where they live, and what their motives might be. Everything and anything can become a clue.
It takes time at first. But it gets faster. And I envy the authors who can do it well enough to make it look easy.
There are, of course, other ways to come up with a solid scene. The following list is from a recent workshop with Kali VanBaale at the David R. Collins Writers’ Conference:
Distinct time & place & POV Dramatic tension, actions to further story Dialogue Description
Mood
I had my setting: the (real) village of Bishop Hill. I had the plot point of a (real) Swedish-born folk artist, who documented the 19th century colony period, have his last portrait lost for decades.
From there, I built my cast of characters by using bits and pieces of real people I knew and photo clippings I’d been saving. I got to know the ins and outs of my characters’ background by using several worksheets I picked up from workshops I’ve attended.
When it came time to construct the scenes that my characters would inhabit and would use get the action going I fell into a pattern that worked for me.
First came dialog. I decided on the principle speakers, usually two characters. I gave them a mission: what they needed to talk about, how much info to reveal, clues to drop, etc. I imagined their voices, but didn’t worry excessively about speech patterns at first. Then I set them in motion. I had them talk. Usually, they were well behaved and advanced the plot as I wanted. However, sometimes the new and unexpected happened. That was a bonus.
Setting came after I had my framework of dialog. I went back to add-in the details. Where were they: In a kitchen? In a café? In a barn? On a street?
When the setting was in place, I added action: I made them fidget with a napkin for instance, or hold a cup of coffee for its soothing warmth, the same for baking some muffins, or walk the streets looking and listening.
Next came the most difficult element for me to get in and to get right— emotion.
I went so far as to buy The Emotion Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Character Expression. (Okay, I didn’t buy it. I guilted a son into gifting it as a Christmas present.)
The last step was to add some little bits of business that made things fun. Giving the characters the drawl, twang, or melodic accent to set them apart. Replaying an inside joke from high school. Using a very common last name to excess.
What I’ve described is a process of adding layer upon layer to build a complex scene that moves the action forward and adds information about my people, where they live, and what their motives might be. Everything and anything can become a clue.
It takes time at first. But it gets faster. And I envy the authors who can do it well enough to make it look easy.
There are, of course, other ways to come up with a solid scene. The following list is from a recent workshop with Kali VanBaale at the David R. Collins Writers’ Conference:
Distinct time & place & POV Dramatic tension, actions to further story Dialogue Description
Mood
July 14, 2017
Remembering Linda Holden
Linda’s memorial service was held in the Colony Church in Bishop Hill. The Rev. Dan Wright led those assembled in prayer and recollections. Linda and Steve, her late husband, were neighbors of Bishop Hill’s United Methodist Church and therefore the parsonage. Rev. Wright shared how he became acquainted with Linda and the many times they shared late night coffee and conversation. She took to calling him “her pastor” even though she and Steve never attended service while he was in Bishop Hill.
During one of Rev. Wright’s visits Linda, who wasn’t mobile due to an amputation, asked him for a favor. She said, “I have two cats and I see three tails around the food dish.” He had to carry a garter snake out to the wood pile. Some workers were gathered by the back door and parted like the Red Sea to let him pass.
Linda’s big house with lots of rooms always reminded the Reverend of a bible story where souls could find a place. Linda claimed it was a “safe zone” for any who needed it.
The Reverend read the parable of the complaining widow and observed that Linda could be vocal and irritating, but also caring and giving.
She just had her vision of how things had to be and demanded perfection from herself and others. When hanging the older, piecemeal bits bunting from the gazebo in the park there was no “that’s good enough” for Linda. Everything was numbered, ordered, and arranged to her specifications. There had to be great relief when the old bunting was replaced “whole” pieces.
Others shared their stories of Linda:
When Swedish royalty was scheduled to come to Bishop Hill Linda & Steve organized the repainting of the Colony School. They spared the Royals from seeing an entirely blue interior by doing most of the intricate decorating work themselves.
A baby quilt made by Linda’s mom was in a sale and bought by a farmer’s wife.
Her nephew told how as a young man he could tell right away that Linda was different, unique, and not in the same conservative mold as the rest of the family. She took him to hear jazz, Thelonious Monk, and inspired a career in music. She came to hear him perform in Florida.
It was not unheard of to become stuck in Linda’s elevator. Not unheard of, but it still had to be scary.
Those stories and more reflected some intimate details in the life of a complicated, talented woman who will be missed by those friends and neighbors who knew her well.
During one of Rev. Wright’s visits Linda, who wasn’t mobile due to an amputation, asked him for a favor. She said, “I have two cats and I see three tails around the food dish.” He had to carry a garter snake out to the wood pile. Some workers were gathered by the back door and parted like the Red Sea to let him pass.
Linda’s big house with lots of rooms always reminded the Reverend of a bible story where souls could find a place. Linda claimed it was a “safe zone” for any who needed it.
The Reverend read the parable of the complaining widow and observed that Linda could be vocal and irritating, but also caring and giving.
She just had her vision of how things had to be and demanded perfection from herself and others. When hanging the older, piecemeal bits bunting from the gazebo in the park there was no “that’s good enough” for Linda. Everything was numbered, ordered, and arranged to her specifications. There had to be great relief when the old bunting was replaced “whole” pieces.
Others shared their stories of Linda:
When Swedish royalty was scheduled to come to Bishop Hill Linda & Steve organized the repainting of the Colony School. They spared the Royals from seeing an entirely blue interior by doing most of the intricate decorating work themselves.
A baby quilt made by Linda’s mom was in a sale and bought by a farmer’s wife.
Her nephew told how as a young man he could tell right away that Linda was different, unique, and not in the same conservative mold as the rest of the family. She took him to hear jazz, Thelonious Monk, and inspired a career in music. She came to hear him perform in Florida.
It was not unheard of to become stuck in Linda’s elevator. Not unheard of, but it still had to be scary.
Those stories and more reflected some intimate details in the life of a complicated, talented woman who will be missed by those friends and neighbors who knew her well.
July 7, 2017
Food for Thought
I’ve been given some excellent ideas for my next book in the last few weeks.
First up was Kali VanBaale’s workshop at last month’s David R. Collins Writers’ Conference. Kali was going over the importance of setting and to drive her point home she gave us an exercise to work on for the next day. She asked us to “destroy what you love.” It could be by fire, flood, the ravages of weather, abandonment, overpopulation, or the erosion of poverty.
The more I thought about this assignment the more I liked it, but what to destroy and how.
Of course, it would be in Bishop Hill, and it would be tricky. I didn’t feel comfortable damaging an 1846 Colony-era building, because they’re too important and too few to start with. But I saw her point. By destroying an old building, I could show, not just describe, the real value of preservation—one of my main themes.
In Clouds Over Bishop Hill I talked about implementing the adaptive reuse of old structures by replacing damaged roof trusses and by physically relocating smaller buildings. I had my woodworker repairing old chairs by taking them apart, cleaning them, and using better glue. I discussed the fragility of old photos and paintings. But I was never quite sure if I had gotten my preservation message across.
The second idea came to me at a Thursday night lecture at the Figge Art Museum. I was listening to Laleňa Vellanoweth talk about art conservation. One of her slides showed a crumpled flag from 9/11. It had not been humidified and pressed out for display. It was left wadded up. Laleňa told us, “It would have lost its significance if flattened.”
That example rang true for me, and it would help me solve a timeline continuity problem for the next book.
For those who’ve read Clouds Over Bishop Hill, you’ll probably know what I’m thinking of. For everyone else, you’ll have to read the book clear to the end.
I think it just goes to show how important getting out of your comfort zone AND getting out of the house can help overcome a little case of writer’s block.
First up was Kali VanBaale’s workshop at last month’s David R. Collins Writers’ Conference. Kali was going over the importance of setting and to drive her point home she gave us an exercise to work on for the next day. She asked us to “destroy what you love.” It could be by fire, flood, the ravages of weather, abandonment, overpopulation, or the erosion of poverty.
The more I thought about this assignment the more I liked it, but what to destroy and how.
Of course, it would be in Bishop Hill, and it would be tricky. I didn’t feel comfortable damaging an 1846 Colony-era building, because they’re too important and too few to start with. But I saw her point. By destroying an old building, I could show, not just describe, the real value of preservation—one of my main themes.
In Clouds Over Bishop Hill I talked about implementing the adaptive reuse of old structures by replacing damaged roof trusses and by physically relocating smaller buildings. I had my woodworker repairing old chairs by taking them apart, cleaning them, and using better glue. I discussed the fragility of old photos and paintings. But I was never quite sure if I had gotten my preservation message across.
The second idea came to me at a Thursday night lecture at the Figge Art Museum. I was listening to Laleňa Vellanoweth talk about art conservation. One of her slides showed a crumpled flag from 9/11. It had not been humidified and pressed out for display. It was left wadded up. Laleňa told us, “It would have lost its significance if flattened.”
That example rang true for me, and it would help me solve a timeline continuity problem for the next book.
For those who’ve read Clouds Over Bishop Hill, you’ll probably know what I’m thinking of. For everyone else, you’ll have to read the book clear to the end.
I think it just goes to show how important getting out of your comfort zone AND getting out of the house can help overcome a little case of writer’s block.
June 19, 2017
Linda Holden
What I remember most about Linda Holden: the decorator, the whimsical shop owner, the B&B hostess, and the mistress of the Post Office, was her unique sense of style for herself, for her businesses, and for her many design projects.
For instance, I once visited a restaurant she had worked on and was surprised to find a very dark color scheme. I hadn’t encountered that before, but that was me in the 80s.
She may have incorporated black tile in a restroom but she had her limits. When she discovered an artist had painted burning bones in the fireplace of the room she had to decorate for the Festival of Trees she turned the offending bones around and went on with her own plans to build a Colony-era décor around her very own Olof Krans painting.
Linda did things her way. Usually. When asked on one Lucia Nights to turn off the red-hot-chili-pepper shaped lights hanging in the PO’s front window—she did. She grumbled about the Lucia police, but she turned them off. I think deep down Bishop Hill always came first for her. It was more than just caring about how things looked, she cared about how well things were going with the village.
My only problem with Linda came when she found what was probably an old enameled metal sign from the 60s. It read: NO HIPPIES ALLOWED. (Or something to that effect.) She put it in the PO’s front window, and I had to stare at it every time I passed by. One day it occurred to me that if a person covered up the “IE” with a letter O, then “HIPPIES” would turn into HIPPOS. I spent weeks trying to figure out how I could do it without getting caught. For all I knew it was a Federal offense to tamper with anything inside a PO, so I didn’t want to leave fingerprints behind either. I thought about the sleight of hand needed. I thought about such things as timing and diversions. I thought about enlisting the aid of co-conspirators. In the end, I didn’t do anything.
Now, I add it to all the things I remember about Linda Holden.
Linda HoldenDec. 21, 1944—May 30, 2017
http://www.stackhousemoore.com/notice...
For instance, I once visited a restaurant she had worked on and was surprised to find a very dark color scheme. I hadn’t encountered that before, but that was me in the 80s.
She may have incorporated black tile in a restroom but she had her limits. When she discovered an artist had painted burning bones in the fireplace of the room she had to decorate for the Festival of Trees she turned the offending bones around and went on with her own plans to build a Colony-era décor around her very own Olof Krans painting.
Linda did things her way. Usually. When asked on one Lucia Nights to turn off the red-hot-chili-pepper shaped lights hanging in the PO’s front window—she did. She grumbled about the Lucia police, but she turned them off. I think deep down Bishop Hill always came first for her. It was more than just caring about how things looked, she cared about how well things were going with the village.
My only problem with Linda came when she found what was probably an old enameled metal sign from the 60s. It read: NO HIPPIES ALLOWED. (Or something to that effect.) She put it in the PO’s front window, and I had to stare at it every time I passed by. One day it occurred to me that if a person covered up the “IE” with a letter O, then “HIPPIES” would turn into HIPPOS. I spent weeks trying to figure out how I could do it without getting caught. For all I knew it was a Federal offense to tamper with anything inside a PO, so I didn’t want to leave fingerprints behind either. I thought about the sleight of hand needed. I thought about such things as timing and diversions. I thought about enlisting the aid of co-conspirators. In the end, I didn’t do anything.
Now, I add it to all the things I remember about Linda Holden.
Linda HoldenDec. 21, 1944—May 30, 2017
http://www.stackhousemoore.com/notice...
June 9, 2017
June 2, 2017
Funny Business
I love comics. Especially the ones found in newspapers like the Moline Dispatch & Rock Island Argus. I always start my day with the comic section. When the newspapers decided to redesign that section and asked for reader input I didn’t delay. I made sure I got my votes in for: Rhymes With Orange, Tundra, and Dilbert.
I went so far as to supplement my vote with copies of 2 of my all-time favorite strips. Of course, they were related to writing. The first panel from a Tundra strip showed a film director instructing his crew on the importance of conflict in making a good story. This was done while smacking a bear in the head. (Tundra features a lot of bears.) The second panel showed the stunned bear losing his freshly-caught salmon with a headline declaring the director would soon get what he asked for.
My second clipping was from a Rhymes With Orange strip that had a woman trying to chosen between 2 slices of pizza. One slice had sausage or something typical. The other had “little bits of truth.” She, who had to be a writer at heart, chose wisely.
This love of comics brings me to one I discovered on this last Memorial Day. It was a Rhymes With Orange that held meaning for the writer in me and for Suzanne Dietsch, one of my Bishop Hill friends who has made a name for herself by making Sailor’s Valentines out of sea shells.
I took a photo, but to be in line with the rule about only using excerpts in reviews and such, I’m only showing the section that Suzy would like the most. The side panel holds the title: Shell-collecting: The Sickness. Now, I haven’t seen Suzy’s new house, so I don’t know how large her shell collection has grown. But judging by the amazingly three-dimensional, award-winning designs she creates—it must be impressively HUGE.
And of course, the writer/author in me likes this image, too. Especially since a neighbor was asking about how to go about posting a review on Amazon. While she watched, I stepped through the process online. I had to do that because I couldn’t find the blog post I’d written for another reader. I found it later. (“Ten Steps to Review on Amazon,” Oct. 21, 2016.)
I like comics for a lot of reasons: for myself, for friends, and for family. But most of all it is discovering how those artists can find so many ways to portray the essential elements of life and the important truths we all share.
I went so far as to supplement my vote with copies of 2 of my all-time favorite strips. Of course, they were related to writing. The first panel from a Tundra strip showed a film director instructing his crew on the importance of conflict in making a good story. This was done while smacking a bear in the head. (Tundra features a lot of bears.) The second panel showed the stunned bear losing his freshly-caught salmon with a headline declaring the director would soon get what he asked for.
My second clipping was from a Rhymes With Orange strip that had a woman trying to chosen between 2 slices of pizza. One slice had sausage or something typical. The other had “little bits of truth.” She, who had to be a writer at heart, chose wisely.
This love of comics brings me to one I discovered on this last Memorial Day. It was a Rhymes With Orange that held meaning for the writer in me and for Suzanne Dietsch, one of my Bishop Hill friends who has made a name for herself by making Sailor’s Valentines out of sea shells.
I took a photo, but to be in line with the rule about only using excerpts in reviews and such, I’m only showing the section that Suzy would like the most. The side panel holds the title: Shell-collecting: The Sickness. Now, I haven’t seen Suzy’s new house, so I don’t know how large her shell collection has grown. But judging by the amazingly three-dimensional, award-winning designs she creates—it must be impressively HUGE.
And of course, the writer/author in me likes this image, too. Especially since a neighbor was asking about how to go about posting a review on Amazon. While she watched, I stepped through the process online. I had to do that because I couldn’t find the blog post I’d written for another reader. I found it later. (“Ten Steps to Review on Amazon,” Oct. 21, 2016.)
I like comics for a lot of reasons: for myself, for friends, and for family. But most of all it is discovering how those artists can find so many ways to portray the essential elements of life and the important truths we all share.
May 26, 2017
Awards
I only had one first place newspaper award before I moved to the Quad Cities. It was for a photograph I had taken of the ice-covered water tower by the Bishop Hill village hall. I stood across the street waiting for the volunteer firemen to get the ladder truck and themselves into position to spray water onto the eleven-ton icicle. Even though it was a sunny January day it was still cold enough to get chilled to the bone before they started working. They finally got the tower free of ice and I got my photo.
Winning for that photo was a surprise for me. I made sure to get photographic documentation, since I wouldn’t be able to keep the plaque. It still hangs in the lobby of the Galva News.
Getting recognition for my writing had to wait until moving to the Quad Cities and becoming more involved with the Midwest Writing Center by going to workshops, attending the annual June conference, and entering the MWC’s Iron Pen contests. All those helped to stretch the writing muscles.
Being chosen for the Outstanding Literary Artist Award at the MWC’s annual meeting was a great honor. There are so many talented and deserving writers and authors in our QC area I find it humbling to be so recognized.
The presentation itself was brief with no time to say anything. But I came prepared with the following remarks:
“This award is for anyone who has sat in the back row of a Midwest Writing Center workshop thinking:
Don’t ask me a question.Don’t make me talk.I have to write something?
To the back row I say—
STICK WITH IT!
Amazing things can happen.”
I know because something amazing happened for me.
Winning for that photo was a surprise for me. I made sure to get photographic documentation, since I wouldn’t be able to keep the plaque. It still hangs in the lobby of the Galva News.
Getting recognition for my writing had to wait until moving to the Quad Cities and becoming more involved with the Midwest Writing Center by going to workshops, attending the annual June conference, and entering the MWC’s Iron Pen contests. All those helped to stretch the writing muscles.
Being chosen for the Outstanding Literary Artist Award at the MWC’s annual meeting was a great honor. There are so many talented and deserving writers and authors in our QC area I find it humbling to be so recognized.
The presentation itself was brief with no time to say anything. But I came prepared with the following remarks:
“This award is for anyone who has sat in the back row of a Midwest Writing Center workshop thinking:
Don’t ask me a question.Don’t make me talk.I have to write something?
To the back row I say—
STICK WITH IT!
Amazing things can happen.”
I know because something amazing happened for me.
May 20, 2017
What’s Your CreateSpace Story?
I can ask this question because I now have my own CreateSpace story.
Earlier in May I was coming up short on having copies of my book on hand. Same with my publisher. The initial printing run of 200 copies of my book was very nearly gone. Nice, but it was time to reorder. Since my publisher went with CreateSpace and it’s based on the print-on-demand principle, they would be able to make smaller orders and therefore limit the odds of them having too many unsold books in storage at any given time. Anything that lowers a business’s overhead is a good deal. We’ve all heard stories and jokes about books being remaindered. Not good. Every book deserves a home.
All was cool … UNTIL the possibility of making corrections to the inside text was mentioned.
Make no mistake, editing is hard work. All books contain typos that were missed. Most are so minor that a reader usually glosses over them and goes on. If I notice something when I’m reading I usually make a small mental shrug and go on. Mistakes must be really major in order to drop me out of the narrative. Probably on the level of content and plot points. This is why there are different types of editors: content and line are the basic ones. Content editors look at the big picture and search out the plot holes giving the author time to plug them. Line editors are what I like to call the real grammar Nazis. I picture them diagraming sentences in their dreams.
After all the levels of editing Clouds Over Bishop Hill went through before publishing—I knew of three things I wanted to change. (I did change them for the eBook version.) Having the chance to upgrade the print version was way too tempting to pass up.
So, I threw caution into the wind and meddled with a book that was doing fine. To make changes that for all intents and purposes were only important to four people, one of whom was deceased.
There was that little voice that had me wondering if it would really be worthwhile. I ignored the pesky voice of caution and all the other warning signs, and I went ahead. I clicked that last button …
And the online print edition of my book disappeared from Amazon.
That’s when panic and the question of my sanity set in.
You see, I’d finally approached Barnes & Noble two days before this and they had placed an online order. I was going to Sweden and wanted to take books with me. I had a major disaster on my hands.
Somehow, my better half came to the rescue and got things sort of fixed. The book was back online—but listed as NOT AVAILABLE RIGHT NOW!
The only thing I could do was wait for the computers to catch up with the changes I made.
The wait for Amazon only took a few hours. After one very sleepless night, expanded distribution was back early the next morning.
Right now, Amazon looks like it’s back to normal. I didn’t lose my reviews. Barnes & Noble has their books. I have my new books. The changes are nice. All is well with the world.
However, I can say for sure that I never want to see this screen again:
Earlier in May I was coming up short on having copies of my book on hand. Same with my publisher. The initial printing run of 200 copies of my book was very nearly gone. Nice, but it was time to reorder. Since my publisher went with CreateSpace and it’s based on the print-on-demand principle, they would be able to make smaller orders and therefore limit the odds of them having too many unsold books in storage at any given time. Anything that lowers a business’s overhead is a good deal. We’ve all heard stories and jokes about books being remaindered. Not good. Every book deserves a home.
All was cool … UNTIL the possibility of making corrections to the inside text was mentioned.
Make no mistake, editing is hard work. All books contain typos that were missed. Most are so minor that a reader usually glosses over them and goes on. If I notice something when I’m reading I usually make a small mental shrug and go on. Mistakes must be really major in order to drop me out of the narrative. Probably on the level of content and plot points. This is why there are different types of editors: content and line are the basic ones. Content editors look at the big picture and search out the plot holes giving the author time to plug them. Line editors are what I like to call the real grammar Nazis. I picture them diagraming sentences in their dreams.
After all the levels of editing Clouds Over Bishop Hill went through before publishing—I knew of three things I wanted to change. (I did change them for the eBook version.) Having the chance to upgrade the print version was way too tempting to pass up.
So, I threw caution into the wind and meddled with a book that was doing fine. To make changes that for all intents and purposes were only important to four people, one of whom was deceased.
There was that little voice that had me wondering if it would really be worthwhile. I ignored the pesky voice of caution and all the other warning signs, and I went ahead. I clicked that last button …
And the online print edition of my book disappeared from Amazon.
That’s when panic and the question of my sanity set in.
You see, I’d finally approached Barnes & Noble two days before this and they had placed an online order. I was going to Sweden and wanted to take books with me. I had a major disaster on my hands.
Somehow, my better half came to the rescue and got things sort of fixed. The book was back online—but listed as NOT AVAILABLE RIGHT NOW!
The only thing I could do was wait for the computers to catch up with the changes I made.
The wait for Amazon only took a few hours. After one very sleepless night, expanded distribution was back early the next morning.
Right now, Amazon looks like it’s back to normal. I didn’t lose my reviews. Barnes & Noble has their books. I have my new books. The changes are nice. All is well with the world.
However, I can say for sure that I never want to see this screen again:
