Lynn Hesse's Blog: Book Signing, page 5

Mathematics and Faeries in The Spring

[image error]The beauty of mathematics eludes me, but a recent NPR radio interview about the Seven Bridges of Königsberg intrigues me. For instance, is the way we look at a problem or a the world[image error][image error] based on our perceptions? What if our perceptions are wrong? By the way this 1736 idea led to the study of graphs and eventually computer networks.

“In modern language, Euler shows that the possibility of a walk through a graph, traversing each edge exactly once, depends on the degrees of the nodes. The degree of a node is the number of edges touching it. Euler’s argument shows that a necessary condition for the walk of the desired form is that the graph be connected and have exactly zero or two nodes of odd degree. This condition turns out also to be sufficient—a result stated by Euler and later proved by Carl Hierholzer. Such a walk is now called an Eulerian path or Euler walk in his honor. Further, if there are nodes of odd degree, then any Eulerian path will start at one of them and end at the other. Since the graph corresponding to historical Königsberg has four nodes of odd degree, it cannot have an Eulerian path.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_B...

Because I am a storyteller, I believe the tools of a writer’s trade, myth and so-called reality go hand in hand to create a world/book containing some universal truth; I want to share this brilliant story about the wisdom of looking beyond the obvious. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2Nli...

Any feedback you have about this blog would be appreciated.

FOR PEOPLE WHO THINK TOO MUCH

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Is life this simple?

Share everything.

Play fair.

Don’t hit people.

Put things back where you found them.

Clean up your own mess.

Don’t take things that aren’t yours.

Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody.

Wash your hands before you eat.

Flush.

Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.

Live a balanced life – learn some and think some

and draw and paint and sing and dance and play

and work every day some.

Take a nap every afternoon.

When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic,

hold hands, and stick together.

Be aware of wonder.

Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup:

The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody

really knows how or why, but we are all like that.

Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even

the little seed in the Styrofoam cup – they all die.

So do we.

And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books

and the first word you learned – the biggest

word of all – LOOK. by Robert Fulghum

an excerpt from the book, All I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten

 

I have The Ten Commandments of Creativity by Bobbie Christmas taped to my bathroom door. Don’t judge.

I. Take notes.

II.  Take Naps.

III. Remember your ABCs (Always Be Curious). 

IV.  Follow your instincts.

V.  Color outside the lines, at times.

VI.  Make recess a part of each day.

VII. Play with your work.

VIII. Mine your memories.

XI.  Chase your bliss.

X .  Stay open to possibilities.

  What mantras keep you sane in this media-laden world?

 

 

 

Packing and Unpacking The Suitcase

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Literary Sequel Suitcase

Your characters need to pack a suitcase for the next book in the series. I am paraphrasing author, Katie Hart Smith, who writes the Sacred Heart Series. Her imagery is useful as – dare I confess – I outline the first half of my sequel to Well of Rage.

Recently, my daughter and several other people were echoing my sentiments: we needed to find out what happened after Carly Redmund, the rookie cop in Mobile Alabama, solved the hate crime and cold-case murder of Terence Washington Williams.

After brainstorming, I’ve decided three years have passed, and Carly’s friends, Marci Eplund and Tim Price, have prospered at the Tribune and the coroner’s office, respectively. Carly has managed to stay low-key and below the radar.  The administration has almost forgot her role in finding the murderer, one of their own, veteran Officer J.C. Grey, and his mental instability leading to the murder of his wife, Noreen, and his suicide.

Now, what is shuffling and rumbling around in this hypothetical suitcase as I cart it around with me?  Pending questions and unresolved matters:

Some of the veterans blame Carly for pushing Officer J.C. Grey into a psychological corner and making the force look bad by exposing the coverup.

I’m pretty sure Carly’s reluctance or commitment issues concerning romantic entanglements and her conflict with her parents are festering.

Who is raising J.C. and Noreen Grey’s children?

Has success changed Marci and Tim’s relationships with Carly?

Because Billie Ray Cofer is in prison, what militia group member is the head of the Mobile’s white supremacy group? What part, if any, will the militia group play in this book?

What are the repercussions in Dorison Grey’s political career and marriage? Are he and Rose still married? How old are their children?

What did Elma choose to do with her life after Lukin’s murder? Has she escaped the cycle of domestic abuse for good?

Is Harold, Carly’s downstairs neighbor and song and dance man, still alive?

Has Mary Williams, Terence’s mom, stayed in touch?

After the rough draft, some of my favorite characters from the previous novel might be absent. I’ll be sad, but another book awaits.

NOTE:  I was fortunate to hear Joyce Carol Oates speak at Emory about writing. She counted her thinking and settling/synthesizing periods as valid times of writing. So Permission Granted!

The Smells of Memories

Sunday, February, 25, 2018:

It’s raining and the windows are open in the house. Though I am cooking a pot of beans, I  smell the scent of the hyacinth flowers drifting inside. I’m thinking of mother’s beans and cornbread with slices of onion and garden-fresh tomato on the side.

Summers in the late 1950s:

I remember helping mother cook beans, iron a basket full of sprinkled clothes, mostly khaki uniforms, and not blinking twice over working in hundred-degree heat in the square, flat-top, concrete house dad built on E. Vine Street in Webb City, Missouri.

Eventually, after the supper dishes are done and the adults are watching television, I will escape outside and take a long walk. (If I am lucky, my girlfriend Barbara will walk with me.) Anywhere, I want to go. I step around hundreds of dreams, then go to my room and read skyscraper words that build fantastic worlds by authors like Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, Henry David Thoreau, Victor Hugo, and Mark Twain.

I love the sounds of the bullfrogs and crickets growing louder as night closes in and a breeze crawls inside over the window sill, and I am lying on my bed with a book open to the next page.

 

Tasers, Self Defense, & Community

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I attended a community meeting at Green Forest Baptist Church on Rainbow Drive in Decatur, Georgia. My intention was to learn how to use the new tasers and buy one for my safety and the safety of others. Why? A few weeks ago,  I was leaving my subdivision, I witnessed a domestic struggle in a car involving two young adults. The male was choking the female. It was a life-threatening situation. I took action, and the woman got away, but I was not armed, and I could’ve been hurt or killed. I know because I was a police officer. I worked thousands of domestic in 23 years on the force.

Many in the crowd at the church were less agile than I. I wondered as they purchased tasers if self-defense classes would be a better route, but no matter what, walkers and canes left them vulnerable. Disrespect for the elderly was mentioned, and I saw fear in their eyes.

I tried for many years to make things better, protect, one call at a time. Since I’ve retired I have learned to improv and play more in my life and on stage.

What if I could place my energies into creative solutions, saying  “Yes, and” (an improv technique) with the[image error] people in the community of South DeKalb? “Connecting Neighbors and Neighborhoods” on NextDoor.com might not work. What do I have to lose?

“HAPPY VALLEY” & BBC

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This BBC series stars Sarah Lancashire as a Yorkshire police sergeant, Catherine Cawood. The combination of brilliant script writing and seasoned actors combine to make a layered performance including: Yorkshire politics, family conflict, raising an angry grandchild, a sister who’s a recovering addict, and the lingering grief over the loss of a child. The subplot involves an abduction. The “bad guys” aren’t just psychotic killers, but your next door neighbor under pressure, a middle-class businessman distributing drugs, and an ex-con.

Sally Wainwright, the writer and creator, of this series portrays the story like an expert crime novelist. The characters drive the action and every line of dialogue makes sense, cause and effect.

If you read your story out loud and the transitions from one scene to another bring to mind “and then” rewrite, author Jessica Lourey told a packed Sister-in-Crime (SinC) writing workshop last weekend at the Decatur Public Library. What you want is a “therefore or but” to ring through and connect the scenes.

If you want to watch a gritty, heartwarming, trying-to-do-the-right-thing police officer,  do her job without a duty weapon, this crime drama is for you. Sergeant Catherine Cawood is over fifty, nobel, and flawed. She makes many mistakes, but she regains her footing and gets on with it.

By my standards, she is a shero.

“Getting Real”

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Trying to live in the moment with limitations as a 66-year-old woman ain’t easy. The performing, book signings, marketing, and writing take stamina. Sometimes, my chronic pain level gets the better of me. I don’t like pain meds; I use water walking, regular exercise, along with dancing and some Qigong. I find my true nature as an introvert requires regulars intervals of quiet, alone time to navigate the emotional challenges of the complex demands of traffic, automated receptionists, and online workshops/business. Resetting my brain with Feldenkrais classes and music changing my Alpha and Beta waves to calm Theta waves helps. Humor helps.

In a Grace and Frankie Netflix episode — okay, I’m binging on the series because it makes me laugh, and it’s honest — shows Grace taking off her makeup and revealing her ice-packed bum knee to her new male friend.

Sometimes, I don’t wear makeup. Do I look better with makeup? Of course I do, but how trivial compared to living with a temporary or permanent disability.

Unfortunately, the perception of me by a lot of people shrinks when they learn about my sciatic pain, or I don’t wear makeup. I can feel their potential and expectation meter drop to the floor. I’m sure I’m not unique in this regard.

I am an intelligent, vital woman. I could NOT talk about what goes on behind the scenes, ever, but I want to be real. The illusion of limitless youth be damn.[image error]I’ve earned my wrinkles through a life well lived. I do have in my favor wisdom, a disciplined will, and a thing called muscle memory, an intuitive sense of how the body works, from my dance training.

Now, how do I want to spend the rest of my life? Naysayers, look out. Here I come…right after I take a nap.

The Dancing Flowers for Peace Means…

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The Dancing Flowers for Peace are more than a performance dance troupe. Each member picks their flower persona based on what they want to explore about bringing peace in the world and into themselves. Honing our performance and dance chops sets the stage to literally and figuratively move and transform the elements that block peace.

I chose the dandelion and try to represent the disenfranchised flowers not wanted in most gardens. I am a survivor, and I’m street smart. Many parts of my flower are eatable and have medicinal purposes.

Any woman forty and over may join. Dance experience is not necessary, but an open heart and commitment are. We meet the first and third Saturdays of the month on Emory’s campus. Lori Teague is one of our leader &[image error] creative director and the Director of Dance at Emory University; we practice on a real dance floor. If you want to meet us and join our warmup session before rehearsal, please let me know.

The Ride with Mr. Billboard

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“Be Curious and Open to New Ideas. Have fun.” Perhaps, Bobbie Christmas, the book doctor, isn’t referring to designing an ad for an electronic billboard.

We, my husband and I, hadn’t designed a billboard ad until last week.

The Experiment In Stream of Consciousness:

I attempt to adjust my attitude and discard the negative this couldn’t possibly work.

I jump in, pick my budget, sign location, prime time slots or not, days of week, upload the design, and hit submit.

Nada. I can’t tell if the program took the upload, but it sure took my credit card info.

The next day, an email: The design must be approved by the moderation board.

Disapproved.

I read the instructions again–feeling my stubborn gene kick in,

Make the decision not to pay for the pros to design it.

Change the font,

Eight seconds to catch somebody’s attention,

Minimum amount of words,

Takes five words or less…

I need my husband’s attention and his help.

I discard the headshot. The graphic art of the book cover works. Submit.

Disapproved.

I list Half Price Books at Suburban Shopping Center instead of an address for the 2-11-18 book signing,

Insist my website address http://www.lynnhesse.wordpress.com be on the design,

Put my ego aside,

And play email and phone tag with the rep. in a different time zone, California, or wherever for several days. Mr. Billboard Co. isn’t sharing all the rules.

Disapproved.

Of course, I could pay the professionals to design it. I don’t.

I bug somebody with photo shop skills to do it–my poor husband.

We look at the sample ads again. Red background, white letters are best, NOT black letters. Dah! Submit.

We leave on our trip to an Alabama wedding on Friday. Although I’m checking my emails obsessively, no reply from Mr. B.

I make the decision to pay the pros if I have to…or risk embarrassment. The sign is mentioned already on my Facebook.)

Return home.

Beg my husband to call the ad rep, because I have four appointments back to back.

Vetting process: sales rep sends our design to the moderation board for approval for the third time. I already know it will take 24 hours or longer. S L O W.

Don’t give up. Be patient. I work on something else. I write, stew, and go into billboard denial,

Have a beer,

Watch a PBS special,

Answer a hundred emails.

I wake up from a dream about a graphic design demanding to be changed from a PNG to a JPEG. The design speaks to me. “It’s comparable to writing a children’s book: every word counts, figuratively and literally.”

I’m losing it.

Mr. B sends me a promise email. I’ll receive updates from the company about the number of views, blips, and cost per day and per week. Approval pending.

Sure they will. They can’t even return an email in a reasonable length of time. Wait. The ad has been up since Saturday. It’s Monday! Mumble and grumble. I trust nobody and nothing now, but…

I did receive updates, and my sales went up. Smile.

 

Ahmir Thompson Finds His Roots

[image error]Recently, Ahmir Thompson, a famous musician and the bandleader for the Jimmy Fallon Show, was a guest on Finding Your Roots. His ancestry was traced to the last American slave ship, The Cotillion or Cotilda. Can you imagine not knowing anything about your lineage and discover your great-great-great grandmother and grandfather were born in Africa and documented on a U.S. Census Record and a bill of sale for 140  slaves from the West Indies?

He cried, thanked his ancestors, and remembered civil rights leaders.

A white man, Timothy Meaher, took a bet he could defy the law of 1808 declaring slavery illegal in America. His ship burned off the shores of Mobile, Alabama in 1860, and the survivors founded Africatown. I already knew about The Cotillion. The history of this event and existence of Africatown affected me deeply as I researched the location where my first novel, Well of Rage, was set.

[image error]Many descendants from the last slave ship live in the area, but most of the land is still owned by whites.