Marian Allen's Blog, page 426

VINE by Michael Williams

I read this book a month ago, but I’m just getting around to writing my critique. Some books aren’t just read, they’re mulled, which seems appropriate for a book named VINE.

The title alone could be the subject of a full-length term paper (English majors take note). Four little letters, one little syllable, and yet worlds of meaning. Wine, fruition, fermentation, serpentine, coils, creeper, insinuation, inebriation, connection, strangulation…. Think of anything from Kudzu to Chianti, and you find this book enriched by that metaphor.

Not that it’s cluttered. Far from it. The characters are clear and distinct, but multiple points of view show each one from different perspectives. I don’t know if you’ve ever been tiddly, but alcohol is sort of famous for blurring your vision and judgment, and there’s something of that in VINE. Does that mean what I think it does? Did that really happen? Please tell me that isn’t what it looks like.

I volunteered with Shakespeare In Central Park in Louisville, Kentucky, many long years ago, the stage on which VINE is set. I know that park, that neighborhood, those denizens, so it was especially evocative for me to have them come off the page and back into my head. Michael Williams has captured his setting both realistically and artistically; if you’ve never been to Fourth and Oak, you will have been once you read VINE.

This is a book I’m glad I got in paper, although I may very well buy it electronically, as well: I want it permanently, but I’d also like to have it instantly available wherever I have my eReader.

One quibble: It would have been kind for Mr. Williams to preface the book with a slightly less brief definition of the terms of Greek tragedy than was in the Author’s Note. Still, my ignorance is not the author’s fault, nor is my education his responsibility.

VINE is available at Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and for Kindle.

I’ll be reading this one again.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Write a disturbing scene set in a familiar and specific spot.

MA

The End of an Era

Yes, my desktop computer has gone to Jesus. Actually, it’s only mostly dead. I could, if I were so inclined, install Mandriva 2011 yet again, but I’ve done that enough for one lifetime. I’m pretty sure the hard drive has what a friend of mine calls “Sometimer’s” — sometimes it remembers its programming and sometimes it doesn’t.

So today, I’m coming to you live from my laptop, which I had to move into the office and put in my desktop’s actual place before I could use it the way I do my desktop. Thank you, Mr. Monk.

I had this desktop built for me by ecollegepc — lo, these many years ago — under the guidance of a now-ex-SIL. It was top of the line for word processing at the time, but is now what the nice kids call “legacy”. The snots call it “old skool”. The vulgarians call it “POS”, which, they tell me, is not short for Point Of Service.

Now I just have to turn around in tight little circles for a while, deciding whether to buy something out of the box, order from NewEgg, or go back to ecollegepc.

I’m a Libra, you know. Pray for me.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character has to buy an important piece of equipment and finds the choices so varied and so changed from the last time, it’s bedazzling.

MA

Food On The Square

Yesterday I told you I would post pictures of some of the dishes I helped prep for World on the Square, and here they are.

Alfredo Chicken
European

This was chicken with Alfredo sauce. I didn’t get to see the sauce made, because Lana made it at home. She loves making sauces, and worked her way through school partly by cooking sauces for local restaurants. I would love to stand at her side and watch her make a classic sauce with her running commentary. This woman should have her own cooking show. She’s great! That’s some of the parsley I minced on top. As you see, it isn’t very mincey. I ran out of fingers.

Asian Chicken

This was Asian. It has the broccoli and rabe I cut up, the carrots Mom sliced, probably my celery and garlic and green onions and orange and orange zest. (“Mine” in the sense that I prepped them.)

Other Kinda Chicken

I don’t remember what this one is. Either African or Middle Eastern. Lana put in lemons, squash, cinnamon, cloves, tomatoes, probably some other spices. I tasted this one and it was DEE-VINE!

We also took the chicken that didn’t go into these other dishes and, with gloves on, of course, squished it up into bits. Then Lana poured in a whole bottle of Texas hot sauce and we worked that in, along with a bunch of my minced cilantro. I smoothed it down in the pan and Lana said, “Beautiful! That’s beautiful!” Then she said, “Deviled eggs. I would make some deviled eggs, slice ‘em and line them up on top. That’s the way to present this dish.”

Cooking with Lana was a great experience. People PAY for an opportunity like that! And I got to do it for free, free, free!

Speaking of free, THE CORNER CAFE, with one of my Bud Blossom stories in it, is free today for Kindle. Go grab you a copy!

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character has a chance to work with an expert in some field. The character may be interested in that field or not, may realize the expert is an expert or not.

MA

World On The Square 2012

I got to work in the World on the Square  prep kitchen for the first time this year, which I posted about today at Fatal Foodies. I had a great time, and disproved the notion that a cook is more likely to be cut with a dull knife than with a sharp one. I would show you my hurted place, but it’s already well.

Tomorrow, I’ll post pictures of most of the finished dishes. I was too busy prepping to remember to snap some of them.

Since I didn’t realize I was supposed to go from prep to serving, I thought I was off for the day at 3, when the food was done and the kitchen cleaned up. So, for the first time in years, I got to actually enjoy the festival.

Lots of people, lots of booths with information and articles from lots of countries, from Mali to Scotland. Visit the World on the Square site to learn more. Here’s a picture of some of the booths.

World on the Square

And here’s what I was really taking the picture of. Yes, many of the guys at the Scotland booth were all kilted up. They were all trim, too. Carrying those big bagpipes around must build up a boy’s muscles or something.

I didn’t get to hear the bagpiper, alas; I was doing kitchen prep at the time and missed him. I love bagpipes, and not just because of the hot talented men who play them. The skirl of the pipes (yes, skirl is a word — it means “a high, shrill, wailing tone. Used of bagpipes.” — doesn’t sound too flattering, though the word itself is beautiful) … I lost my place. Oh, yes: The skirl of the pipes gives me chills in a good way, not in a nails-on-a-blackboard way.

Here is a picture of the crowd.

And here is what they were watching.

The dancers are a little blurry, but that’s because they were moving. Well, parts of them were moving, anyway.

A good time was had by all.

Meanwhile, I’m also posting today at Echelon Explorations about dragons, including the one I bought at the festival.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: A character goes to an international festival.

MA

Writing Flash Fiction – How I Do It

Yesterday, I posted a flash fiction story, “On With The Show“, which I wrote the day before. I write a lot of flash fiction, and I get a lot of hits on this site from people searching for how to do it, so it seems natural to give my method.

In the case of yesterday’s story, I was given three random words and challenged to write a story in no more than 500 words.

My words were barnstorm, natives, and saffron.

The first thing I did was look up the words. Saffron, I knew, was a spice and a color, and I’ve heard it used as a woman’s name (anybody know where?). Natives is easy. I’ve heard of “barnstorming pilots”, but I wanted to see where the term came from, and I was surprised to see that it originated in American theatrical troupes in the 1800s who put on action-packed shows in barns in rural areas.

So I had a general setting and a general cast and a general plot stew: A modern-day theatrical troupe going around putting on plays in rural areas.

The folks who live where the troupe performs are the natives. Saffron could be one of the cast. Barnstorming is what they do.

With the words taken care of, I could work on the story.

The three-act plot structure is: set-up, development, climax

So, my flash piece needed three points:

setup – The troupe, the plays, how it works
development – They flesh out the plays with local details
climax – The result of that particularization

This, with a one-line denoument, and the story was done.

Any questions?

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Write a paragraph about a woman named Indigo. A woman named Carmine. A woman named Coral.

MA

#SampleSunday – On With The Show

Time for another exercise from Quills and Quibbles. Three words to build around, 500 words at most in all.

ON WITH THE SHOW

copyright August, 2012

Marian Allen

Joel wrote the plays. Saffron figured out the staging. The rest of us painted canvas, scrounged up costumes, and memorized Joel’s not-so-deathless words. Pauly lined up the barns, empty stores, abandoned churches, and the occasional parking lot, and handled all licenses and paperwork. It made us enough to cover expenses and put some away for the coming college year. Besides, it was fun.

We started out with three generic pieces: a romance, a mystery, and a farce. We did one all around the circuit, then the next all around, then the next. Meanwhile, Saffron read local newspapers and haunted libraries, and we all kept our ears open, eavesdropping on the natives in the hardware stores and restaurants, and gave what we found to Joel, who plugged stuff into the original three plays and renamed them. 

By our last go-round, we had a play specific to each location. Our audiences were always fairly good, but the tailored stuff really pulled them in. Every place has its tragic romance, its legendary crime, and its favorite eccentric; all we had to do was decide which one we were going to do and drill ourselves on which names to use that night. 

The last show of the season was a mystery: “Death In Darson City”. True to barnstorming tradition, it was full of action and alarms, but short on subtlety. 

Saffron played Luellen Darson, oldest daughter of the town founder, who apparently stole the lumber yard’s payroll and ran off with a handsome rascal. In Joel’s play, though, the rascal stole the money, murdered Luellen, and ran off alone (one of the more lurid versions from the hardware store). 

I had just plunged the stage daggar into — or rather onto — Saffron’s bosom, breaking open the packet of stage blood and coating us both with washable gore, when the performance was disrupted by a lusty cheer from the back of the stage. Thinking it was something Joel had added at the last minute, I let Saffron’s “lifeless” body slip to the floor and prepared to ad-lib. 

A horsey-faced man I’d never seen before, wearing a costume I’d also never seen before, had gotten onto the stage. Oh, boy! It wasn’t unknown for a civilian to get tanked up and try to get into the act, and the last night of the season seemed a fitting time for it to happen.

This guy didn’t seem drunk, though. He didn’t stagger or swaggar, just stepped forward, his eyes on Saffron as if he’d stab her for real with his glare. He switched his attention to me, giving me a dimpled grin, his eyes glowing with teary joy. 

“Give it back to the hell-cat! She did it to me, you do it to her! Serves her right!”

He held out his hand for me to shake. As I touched him, he vanished.

I’m telling you what: The country gives me the creeps.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Look up a word you think you know the meaning of and see where it comes from and if its derivation surprises you.

MA

#Caturday – Katya And The Cat With No Name

My mother’s cat, Sweetie Pie, is one of those cats who ignores you when you call her, unless she’s sure you’re up to something she particularly wants to be part of. She goes into the basement and won’t come up. She goes out and won’t come in. She has some secret hiding place in the house where she can’t be found and will not come when called.

The 22-pound cat currently known as Sweetie Pie.

My friend Jane (Hi, Jane!) says it’s because she doesn’t accept “Sweetie Pie” as her name. I don’t blame her. Sorry, Mom, but cute as that name is, she’s outgrown it. She needs a new, more appropriate name. Hindenburg, maybe. We’ve tried Meany Mouse, Snickers, and Thcrapth, but she’ll pay attention the first time we try it and then ignore it thereafter. Sophie Tucker. Jabba. Any suggestions? She really is a sweet cat, mostly.

Katya’s Cafe Press Store

Due to popular request, Katya now has her own Cafe Press store. Everyone but Jane is encouraged to go buy Bad Katya merchandise. Jane is encouraged to go pick something out for Christmas.

I have several Cafe Press stores, which you can discover by clicking the Cafe Press link above.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: If you could change your name — if you HAD TO change your name — what would you pick and why?

MA

A Near Thing

The Southern Indiana Writers and I set up at the Harrison County Farmers’ Market this past Wednesday. It turned out to be hotter than predicted, and the directions available for getting to the venue were incorrect, so the members with the tent were late arriving. They only got there at all because they know internet information isn’t necessarily correct and called a person (my husband) and got the real directions.

Meanwhile, the dumb stupid idiot who had the books (me) stood around in the direct sunlight except when she went and helped other vendors wrestle up their tents.

So, by the time we wrestled up our tent, yours truly had heat exhaustion. Like, clammy skin, very red face, dizzy, headache…. I tried sitting in the car with the air conditioner blowing on me. SIW members gave me ice packs, electrolyte drinks, and a cloth drenched in cold water. At length, one member talked to somebody who called somebody from the nearby church, who unlocked the church basement so I could go lie down on the linoleum in air conditioning.

Obviously, I recovered, but here is an article I should have read, called– and I do hate to say this — Heat Stress In The Elderly.

Click on image to enlarge. Click back arrow to return to post.

The event was otherwise delightful, though. I got some fresh veg, we ate some fabulous local goat cheese, we sold some books, and we got to see that totally awesome body art.

I’ve never seen this woman before. I hope she’s local and I hope I see her again. She was fun to talk to and seemed like somebody I would enjoy knowing. Every one of these tattoos are from the chapter headings of the Harry Potter books. She doesn’t have any Snape yet, but she says she intends to.

She insisted that getting a tattoo “isn’t really so bad,” but I have no intention of finding out. Considering how much getting my ears pierced hurt after everybody told me I wouldn’t feel a thing, there’s no way. If you’re considering it, though, read this article at the wonderful blog, The Art of Manliness, about the history of tattoos and what to do if you want one. It’s good information and great advice (no, he doesn’t say to not do it — he has at least one).

Okay, now, if you’re all freaked out happy about these tattoos, not because they’re tattoos but because they’re Harry Potter, I have to ask: Do you know about Pottermore, J.K. Rowling’s own web site of all things Harry Potterish? If not, go there at once. I’ve avoided it deliberately, because I know I’d just crawl in there and live.

So one more shot of those tattoos, and I leave you for the day.

Click on image to enlarge. Click back arrow to return to post.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: An elderly character gets heat stressed.

MA

Sisterhood Of The Traveling Ya-Ya Pants Picture

Holly Jahangiri (the real one, not the fictional one) has given me the Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award, for which I thank her. In today’s post, I will pass the award along and fulfill the requirements by telling seven dumb things about myself. I don’t think they specifically have to be dumb things, but Holly did it and it’s more interesting than seven laudable things. Whaddya mean, “Also easier”? I oughta come through this wireless and give you such a smack!

Anyway, here are the rules:

Recipients need to thank the giver. Done.
Include the logo of the award in a post or on your blog. Done.
Post 7 things about yourself.
Pass the award onto 7 other bloggers of your choice and let them know they’ve been nominated.

Seven dumb things about myself:

I hate cutting my toenails. Every time I have to do it, I’m like, “Am I being punished?” Yes, I know I can pay somebody else to do it, but I couldn’t afford what it would be worth.
I bought my poor innocent daughter Hello Kitty and My Little Pony stuff because I liked it. Fortunately, she liked cats, and she married the ponies off to her dinosaurs. (Hey–this is supposed to be about me, #4 daughter! Get your own meme!)
My favorite thing in the whole wide world is blue-tailed lizards. If God poked his head out of a cloud and said, “Would you rather see a unicorn or a blue-tailed lizard?” I would probably choose the blue-tailed lizard. Seriously. Least favorite: possums.
My nickname in upper elementary school was Mervyn, because The Merv Griffen Show (an early talk show) was my television favorite.
I chew on the inside of my mouth. It’s an anxiety disorder thing. But I just found this relaxation exercise that might help. Fingers crossed.
My first word was “meat”.
I love Polyvore. I used to read Katy Keene comics, and, although I loathe clothes shopping and dislike dressing up, I adore fantasizing about it and could look at and put together pretty lady outfits all day.

Okay, seven other bloggers. Since this is a World Bloggers thing, I’m going to pass this on to as many peeps in other countries as I can.

Damyanti Biswas of Amlokiblogs.
Charmaine Clancy of Wagging Tales.
Jennifer Burke of Jen’s Bookshelf.
Cheryl K. Tardif of The Suspense is Killing Me.
Amanda Borenstadt of A Fortnight of Mustard.
Marion Driessen of Figments of a Dutchess.
Enid Wilson of Steamy Darcy. Yes, it’s just what it sounds like.

So there it is. Man, these things take a long time to fulfill! But thank you anyway, Holly. You’re one of my favorite peeps, real AND imagined!

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: List seven dumb things about your main character. Now about your character’s love interest and/or sidekick. Now about your villain.

MA

More Red Bricks To Love

Y’all know that Red Brick, a character in Leslie Lee’s PACKAGED, is my highly, highly imaginary boyfriend. But I’m not talking about him at this particular moment.

Right now, I’m talking about a restaurant I’m stalking. Point Blank Brewing Company is working its way toward opening in Corydon, Indiana. It’s the baby of Nathan Blank, owner of Cellar on the Square, purveyor of wine- and beer-making supplies. Jesse Badger, formerly head chef of The Green Door, is going to be the chef at Point Blank.

One of the things Point Blank will have is a brick pizza oven, which is actually some kinda stone like an adobe oven with a brick facing. I’ve been popping in to the site now and then, jonesing for local beer and unique grub, both of which will be featured at the new brewpub, and watching the wonderment come into being. Mom and I got to see the new oven in place.

So we walk into the room, and Mom says to me, she says, “Get down there and check the oven, little girl. Blow on the coals; I don’t think it’s hot enough.” Now, how would you like to grow up with a mother who spontaneously channels The Gingerbread Witch, I’m asking you? Yeah, pretty damn cool.

The web site is under construction, too, but here’s the Point Blank location so you can bookmark it and check it now and then. In case you don’t hear my triumphant shout of “YESSS!” when I hear it’s open.

A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: What kind of beer does your main character like? Dark and bitter? Light and floral? Whatever’s on sale in bottles and cans?