Marian Allen's Blog, page 478

Saturday Ramble

Today, I'm in Madison, Indiana with the Southern Indiana Writers Group at That Book Place's 5th Anniversary Book Fair. I'll have some copies of Marion Zimmer Bradley's SWORD AND SORCERESS XXIII because I have a story in it.

I just hope I don't spend more money than I make, and come home with more books than I take.

Another St. Patrick's Day has come and gone with me forgetting to watch DARBY O'GILL AND THE LITTLE PEOPLE. When the kids were bitsy, we watched it often, even though the wossnames–banshees–scared us spitless. Scared me, anyway. Had some wonderful bits in it, very funny, lovely stuff. Not Sean Connery's singing, though. That was almost as scary as the banshees.

Well, I must be off. Be good while I'm gone. You never know if I might check in from my laptop in faraway Madison.

WRITING PROMPT: Does your main character like to read? If so, what? If not, why not?

MA

Friday Recommends 3-18-2011

This is turning into a regular feature. Imma hava date 'em.

What with one thing and another, the Southern Indiana Writers Group meeting last night turned to the subject of funerals. Member Ginny Fleming said, "My funeral is the one you want to go to. It's gonna be on the beach, with Jimmy Buffett music and margaritas and mojitos."

We were all like, "Cool! I can't wait! –Oh, did I just say that out loud?"

Which, today, has me thinking of the Chad Mitchell Trio's song, A Dying Business. Here's the only video I could find of it. The visuals leave something to be desired, but it's the song, anyway.

Well, that was tasteful, wasn't it?

On a related note, are you tired of vampires who are just misunderstood sadpeople? Dave Anderson, author of Killer Cows, is. He's written an uncharacteristically dark dystopian apocalyptic vampire short story.

If you're into eBook publishing or just want a peep inside the whole business to see some of the things involved in do-it-yourself marketing, I recommend E-book Endeavors, a blog by fantasy author Lindsay Buroker. Lots of good stuff there.

WRITING PROMPT: What kind of funeral would you die to have?

MA

Not Bugs

In honor of the late Bubbles White Schmeltz, and because Holly Jahangiri mentioned Jugged Hare in that post's comments, here are some columns I wrote at various times for World Wide Recipes. I no longer write the Culinary Chronicles for that publication, but Karlis Streips does the honors now. I recommend it and him to your attention.

Anyway, here goes me:

JUGGED HARE

My mother and I love reading British mysteries, and our current one mentions jugged hare. The earliest recipe I found was dated 1747, by Mrs. Hannah Glasse in her Art of Cookery. The "jug" is a tightly covered earthenware casserole with a swelling middle and narrower mouth, not the drinking jug we incredulously imagined. Some recipes marinate the hare in red wine and juniper berries, some don't. Some brown the joints before "jugging", some don't. Some put the "jug" into a hot water bath and stew the hare, some bake it without the water bath. Some suggest making beef gravy, some insist on gravy rendered from the sweet little bunny's head, innards, bones and "thick blood". It may or may not be surprising that Science Daily reports, "Less than 2 percent of the young people surveyed [in England recently] had heard of jugged hare and 70 percent said they wouldn't eat it even if they had." Except for the icky bits, my mother and I think it sounds like a pretty tasty dish.

~I posted on another date about rodentia, and two people wrote to correct me. It turns out that a rabbit is not just what a squirrel would look like if it stayed on its meds. Rabbits and hares are, in fact, lagomorphs.

A HAPPY DAY FOR HARES

Ah, these are proud days for rabbits and hares! Two fellow Recitopians have emailed to tell me that rabbits and hares are no longer considered rodents, but have been promoted to the order of Lagomorphs. I don't know if members of the order get to wear ribbons and medals on special occasions, but I like to think they do. Hare bones in prehistoric kitchen middens show the hare to have been eaten all over the world: New England, Russia, Africa and Rome. The Romans thought eating hare seven days in a row would cure ugliness. The Greeks thought it would cure insomnia. The English thought it would cure melancholy. Unlike rabbits, hares haven't been domesticated. Perhaps it is for this reason that wild hare, as a meat, is held in higher regard by some gourmands than hutch-raised rabbit. My mother is quite fond of the occasional dish of "sweet little bunny", though we haven't had it since the kids got rabbits for pets. As Lewis Carroll said in ALICE IN WONDERLAND, you can't eat anything you've been introduced to!

~Having written about hares, I had to give rabbits equal time.

RABBIT

Rabbits, as we all know, are lagomorphs, a family which includes hares and pikas. Although hare is regarded as a dish fit for royalty, rabbit has traditionally been considered lower-class fare. Rabbit can be hunted, snared or bred in captivity. Sometimes hunters sneak up behind them and whap them on the head, which is where the term "rabbit punch" comes from. Rabbit meat tends to be milder and more tender than that of hares. Rabbit milk is said to be high in protein, but I don't believe I could milk enough rabbits to make it worth my while. Personal experience assures me that the Wikipedia assertion, "Rabbits are very good producers of manure", is, if anything, an understatement, but I have no way of verifying the claim that rabbit urine increases the productivity of lemon trees due to its high nitrogen content. Rabbits, the same entry says, are unable to regurgitate, a fact which might turn out to be useful sometime, under a somewhat bizarre set of circumstances.

~So now you know.

WRITING PROMPT: Read a random Wikipedia article and see what surprises you.

MA

The Sad Song of Bubbles White Schmeltz

I'm writing this in tribute to a brave individual, who ventured too far from those he could trust and reckoned too highly on his own abilities. Let us all read and learn from his tragedy. This happened yesterday, in my own front yard.

THE SAD SONG OF BUBBLES WHITE SCHMELTZ

by Marian Allen

He was only a little white rabbit

With eyes of a delicate red.

He broke with his safety and habit

And now he is probably dead.

His mistress obeyed not her father

Who, when she ignored Bubbles' needs

Because they were just too much bother,

Turned Bubbles out into the weeds.

At first, Bubbles stayed on the Schmeltz grounds

Enjoying his freedom at home

And played with the Schmeltz cats and Schmeltz hounds

But then he decided to roam.

So Bubbles came up to the Allens'

Where things were not safe and not sweet,

Where cats have sharp teeth and long talons

And dogs think a rabbit is meat.

In spite of the Allens' best trying,

The DOG was seen, mouth full of white.

Poor Bubbles was probably dying

And gently went to that good night.

But let us not call Bubbles "hero".

He went where he oughtn't to go.

The score is DOG-one, BUBBLES-zero

Which I am down-hearted to know.

Oh, heed me, thou little white rabbits!

Remember poor Bubbles, too free!

Stray not from thy homes and thy habits

Lest this fate should happen to THEE!

Mom and I are pretending that Joe carried Bubbles into the woods and released him, and he went home. Other people's dogs bring their kills to their Mistresses for praise, in which case I might have been able to save a wounded rabbit or at least deliver the remains for burial, but NO, Joe wasn't about to answer my calls. He flat ignored me. I am not best pleased with him. See if I share my next kill with him!

WRITING PROMPT: Did your main character have a pet as a child? Or a child as a pet?

MA

Wilkie Collins Broke My Heart

I've just finished reading Wilkie Collins' THE WOMAN IN WHITE. I suppose the time will come when I'll stop singing the title to this tune, which I invite you to enjoy, if you have 10 minutes to spare. It has in it, so that's a plus.

I posted about one disappointment in the book at Fatal Foodies today. The other, I can only hint at, in case you would like to read the book yourself, which you can do free from Project Gutenberg. I can only say that one of the main characters is named Marian. And now I'm wondering if that's where the name got into the family.

WRITING PROJECT: What's the story behind your name? Your main character and/or villain's name?

MA

The Awesomest Prize EVAR!!1!

Mom and I went to a charity event to benefit HEART Humane Society. They had a silent auction of gift baskets and a live auction of "celebrity" cakes, meaning cakes baked by, around, in spite of or at the behest of local business people (mostly men, for maximum amusement, as it still amuses many people to think that men might cook well). Mom and our friend Peggy discovered, after Mom won a spirited round of bidding, that they had bidding against one another. One of the drawbacks of doing an auction with little paddles with numbers on them rather than voice calls, as Mom and Peggy had been sitting NEXT TO EACH OTHER during their unconscious duel.

I won the only silent auction item on which I bid. I still can't believe it. It is totally the best basket ever. Even Katya thinks so, and she isn't impressed with anything. It was called a Writer's Block basket and contains:

all occasion cards
envelopes
book owner stickers
3 20-pack invitations
bookmarks
photocards
Christmas stationary (I think they mean stationery)
Magic tape (looking forward to seeing it pull a rabbit out of its hat)
index cards
glue
eraser
highlighter
finepoint marker
Zebra ballpoint pen (zebra not included)
notepads

Isn't that the best basket ever??? Index cards? marker? pen? notepads? highlighter? bookmarks? ~danse danse, danse danse~

I use index cards a lot in my writing. They're great for writing out plot points and arranging them for best effect. They're great for abstracting chapters so I can lay them out and see how the story arc is doing. I use them to organize my submissions: each story gets an index card with title and word count on the top. Date sent out and market on a line. Date bought or rejected on the same line, then I move on to the next line, if necessary. Easy to alphabetize, easy to arrange by word count or title or date submitted.

So I have a brand new pack! And a pen! and a highlighter! and more!

WRITING PROMPT: What makes you do a happy dance, as a writer?

MA

Sample Sunday – Foxing Uncle Phineas

Uncle Phineas is a "reaver priest" in a seacoast area known as the Eel. Reaver priests are in it for the money, but the reavers in the Eel have formed a coalition and use armed "churchwardens" to enforce attendance and tithing. The elderly Aunt Libby, a true priest from another area, has wandered into the Eel unaware of the Coalition's illegal activities. A family of true believers has given her shelter–or have they taken her prisoner? When Uncle Phineas shows up at their door, they stash Aunt Libby in a carefully prepared hideaway in the basement.

Excerpt from Chapter 5 of EEL'S REVERENCE

Clare led me to the back wall and pushed open a door I hadn't noticed. "Here's the room," she said.

It was plain, but pleasant, and lit by smokeless lamps. Bowls of flowers couldn't quite conquer the riot of odors from the produce outside.

"Just help yourself to whatever's out there," Clare said. "If there's anything else you need—"

"Clare," Hilda called sharply.

"Coming!" Clare closed the door behind herself. I heard a brief gurgle and the sound of a broom. Dampness seeped an inch or so under my door and, with it, the heady smell of malted barley.

At the same time, from the cracks in the ceiling, sifted feathers of brownish-green. Fresh dill.

They were certainly taking no chances. They had scented my shoes and the hem of my cassock with mint and masked my presence with dill and beer. It seemed a bit extreme.

Why would they need to—

I could hear sounds from upstairs, muffled but audible. A heavy tread and a scrabble of wolves' claws raised the hairs on the back of my neck. No one would even know I was here? Was I hidden, or trapped?

"Good afternoon." Uncle Phineas' brassy voice fell like hot metal through the cracks of the floor.

"Good afternoon, Uncle."

"My, it smells lovely in here," Uncle Phineas said. "Dill, isn't it?"

"Sure, it's the dill," said Isaac. "I wondered. The wolves usually sniff around whenever they come in with you."

"But, today, they can smell nothing but dill," said Phineas, as smoothly as his husky voice could sound.

"We've been pickling," said Hilda. "We'll be sweeping up dill weed for days. It won't hurt the wolves, I hope."

"No, my dear lady, a transitory disablement only."

"Won't you sit down, Uncle?" Clare said. "Have some tea?"

"Thank you, no. I've come to baptize young Evrard."

"Oh," said Hilda. "We thought you told us to bring him to the temple this evening."

"Now I can spare you the trouble."

"Thank you, Uncle. Here he is."

I wondered at her nerve. She would have to hand her baby into those monstrous arms, have to hear those beautiful words hacked to bits by that saw-toothed voice, watch those flaccid, liver-colored lips press her child's forehead, and she would have to pretend to be sweetly moved. She must have an enormous capacity for deceit.

Of course, so must Uncle Phineas. I had no doubt he knew this charming family was lying in their teeth. He wanted them to believe they'd foxed him; he could catch them out more easily if he put them off their guard.

The wolves must have led the reaver to me again. Now what would happen, with no Reynold to tell what Uncle Phineas knew? If Uncle Phineas had had an impulsive tad beaten and a generous woman burned out of all she possessed with the eyes of Port Novo on him, what would he do in the depth of the woods, with only his wolves to witness?

EEL'S REVERENCE ($2.99 – cheap at the price) can be downloaded directly to your Kindle from Amazon. It's available at Barnes & Noble for Nook and at OmniLit in other electronic formats.

WRITING PROMPT: If you needed to hide someone, where and how would you do it?

MA

Approximately Indian

I had a taste for Indian last night, but I live in the sticks, and you just can't run out for Indian food when you live in the sticks. Unless, of course, you live in the sticks in India. Or maybe England. Not here, anyway.

So I cooked some broccoli and cauliflower and steamed some fish and made this sauce to put over it:

APPROXIMATELY INDIAN SAUCE

butter
garam masala powder
ground cashews
milk
tomato paste
salt and pepper

Melt butter. Add garam masala and cashews and stir until they smell toasty. Add milk, tomato paste, salt and pepper, and stir until sauce is thick. Takes about 10 minutes from start to finish. Tasty. I wish I had put some chopped raisins in it, too, but I didn't think of it until just now.

Another good recipe is to put lima beans and LOTS of dill weed into a rice cooker along with jasmine or basmati rice, water, butter and salt.

I'm nearly done with my edits on FORCE OF HABIT. I've done three passes, now: rainbow edits, eliminating most of my "had", "was", "were" and "that" overuses; this one, responding to my editor's suggested changes (make almost all of them and some she didn't suggest) and eliminating most of my remaining overuses; and the third one, changing attributed thoughts to italicized thoughts (instead of "I really don't want him to knock my face off onto the floor, Bel mused." changing it to "Bel weighed the consequences. I really don't want him to knock my face off onto the floor.") That isn't an actual line from the book, but it could be. The possibility exists, at one point.

When I finish this pass, I'll send the ms back to my editor,  and she'll go over it and catch all the mistakes I made during the rewrites. Then I'll go over it again, then I'll submit it, then I'll get the proofs and go over it AGAIN. Yes, it takes a lot of time, but I'm expecting people to pay money to read my book. They worked hard for that money, and I owe them the respect of working hard to earn it, too.

WRITING PROMPT: Does your main character ever eat in a public food dispensary? If not, why not? If so, what kind?

MA

Friday Recommends

My first recommendation is: make these pancakes!

[image error]I bought some fresh strawberries, cut them up into a container, added sugar, put on the lid and shook them suckers up so the juice came out and mixed with the sugar. I made pancakes (used pancake mix). Took out one pancake, spread it with Nutella, put another pancake on top and ladled the strawberries and juice over the top. OH! Ought to be a LAW!

Okay. Whether you love genre Romance or not, go to Parlez Moi Blog and read her post about mandatory HEA (happily ever after). Read the caption under the bodice-ripper picture and the title on the book cover at the end of the post.

Katie Salidas has a MOST useful post on book trailers–why you might need one, how you would use one, where you would put one, how to know how much you want to pay for one. Katie writes great posts on writing and being a writer. Not just for paranormal writers, but that's her genre.

If you're a writer and you have books on Amazon, look into telling Brianna McKenzie at the Cozy Corner Reading Room. She'll post a link directly to your Amazon buy page. Free. For nothing. No charge.

And, speaking of Amazon and recommendations, I got an email yesterday from my bes' gurlfren, Jane, saying this:

I was perusing the latest recommends at my Amazon.com acct, when I saw

recommended:

Jean Auel's latest novel, BECAUSE i had bought Lonnie and me and the Hound of

Hell.

To which I can only say:

AWESOMESAUCE!!!1!

WRITING PROMPT: What book would you recommend your hero or heroine read? OR write a paragraph in which someone recommends a book to someone else. Do they know each other? Is it meant as an insult? Is it meant well but TAKEN as an insult?

MA

Seven Stylish Things

Jean Henry Mead gave me the Stylish Blogger Award. I'm supposed to tell seven obscure things about myself and pass the award to someone else. I may be supposed to send it to multiple people, but I've given up sending awards to multiple people for Lent.

I'm a little bit dyslexic, especially with numbers. Numbers jump around and swap places and do square dances.
When I was little, I had a crush on Jiminy Cricket. It was his voice, which was provided by Cliff Edwards aka Ukulele Ike, a popular crooner.
I love to do cryptic crosswords. I think regular crosswords are too hard. With a regular crossword, you either know the answer or you don't, but cryptic crosswords are puzzles, and sometimes you can figure out the word by solving the puzzle.
I used to belong to the Barony of the Flame in the Middle Kingdom of the Society for Creative Anachronism, a medieval recreation and study group. I was Lady Maude McEwen, a poet.
When I was about 13, I started cooking for my mother and myself. After I had been shopping for a while, I realized it was cheaper to buy a whole chicken and cut it up rather than buy chicken pieces. So I bought a whole chicken and cut it into pieces and breaded it and fried it. And my mother picked up the back and laughed and laughed. She said, "People usually cut the tail off. You left the tail on!" So the next time, she laughed even harder. I was like, "What? You said to cut it off." She said, "Yes, but most people throw it away; they don't bread it and fry it and serve it." Well, ha-ha, because I've since learned that people used to do exactly that. It was called the Parson's nose. So now you know.
The first story I ever completed, when I was in high school, was called "The Comrade and I", about an American airman who crash landed in Russia and escaped with the help of a Russian general. Write what you know.
My cat, Katya, is the reincarnation of my first cat, Tiffany. Tiffany used to jump up on the back of the rocking chair; she had no weight, and the chair didn't move when she jumped on it. The first time Katya jumped onto the back of the rocking chair, she looked more surprised than any cat ever looked.

So now, I'm passing the award to Pat Bean, whose beautiful travel blog is my home page, so I can start every day with her.

WRITING PROMPT: Have your main character tell you seven things you didn't know about him/her.

MA

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