Mollie Cox Bryan's Blog, page 16

Five things I thought about on my morning run:

1. Morcheeba. Great music for running.

2. Warm, breezy morning, colorful leaves blowing around. I feeling like I’m running in a snow globe. Only with leaves.

3. Hope to get out today for a few hours.

4. Watching my Tess dance last night. Ohmigoodness. Whatever will I do with her.

5. Husband’s long days. Poor guy. He’s so exhausted that he can’t sleep.

Bouchercon, John Connolly, and a Giveaway

I had a fabulous time at Bouchercon the week before last, but I came home with a terrible cold and was really down for a few days. Now, I’m back at it, though not quite one-hundred percent.

I’ve been reading a lot of Bouchercon posts and since I’m kind of late in getting this up, I won’t give yet another redux. But Bouchercon was full of wonderful people—writers and fans included.

One of my fan “moments” was meeting John Connolly, whose writing I love and whom I have to admit I’ve had a bit of a crush on for a few years. I tell you about this not to brag, though, why not? I HAD HIS ARM AROUND ME. Hehehe.

But I also tell you because I thought he trembled a bit when he placed his arm around me. I’d like to believe my roomie’s take on that—she said it was his attraction to me that made him tremble. But, alas, I don’t believe it. Sigh.

I think he was exhausted. And nervous. On. All the time. The poor guy. I know how he feels, kind of. I feel like that with every personal appearance and every conference. Only I’m not John Connolly. It must be worse for him because, after all, he is just a writer, a man who is probably more comfortable at the keyboard than on stage. Yet here he is under the magnifying glass and on stage a good bit at Bouchercon. And when I had that realization, it struck me that this is why fan conferences like Bouchercon are so important to writers and readers. We are all coming together over our love of the written word. Big-time writers and new writers. Fans and publishers. We are all a bit nervous, all a bit weary, and home sick.

We are all apt to see one another in new and unexpected ways.  And that, my friend, can only be a good thing.

So one the events I participated in was a craft room. Many of the mystery authors who had craft themes in their books offered classes. I gave a class called “How to Make Your Own Scrapbook of Secrets.” It was so much fun! I have some extra kits and am going to give five away. The kits include a paper bag scrapbook, with ribbons, embellishments, and so on, for you to make your own.

I will print out all of your responses and my daughter will pull five out of a hat. (So scientific, dontchya know!) Please make sure to leave your email address on your response.

All you need to do is answer this question: Have you even met a famous person and what was it like for you?

Five things I thought about during my morning run:

1. Love running with a gentle rain prickling at my skin.

2. Scent of rain. Wet pavement.

3. Tusk.

4. Bouchercon.

5. Leaving my family for four days. Of course, it’s a bad time for me to go. Fall. Next year I will have to rethink my travels. But Bouchercon certainly may be worth it. Fingers crossed.

Heading to Bouchercon

If you are going to be at Bouchercon in Cleveland, I do hope you will stop by and see me at one of these events.

I’ll be hosting a table at the Mystery Writers of America Librarian Breakfast. Mary Higgins Clark will be the guest of honor. The breakfast starts at 7:30 a.m. on Friday.

Next, my “Crafty Sleuth” panel is a 9:00 a.m. I’ll be the moderator grilling all of the panelists with mind-blowing, fascinating questions.

Later that day. I’ll be teaching a How to Make Your Own Scrapbook of Secrets class, at 2:00. I’m thinking I’ll need a nap after this one.

Friday is my big day. But Saturday night is my publisher’s big event. Here is the very cool ad they are running in the program:

Five things I thought about during my morning run:

1. Bouchercon. I thought I was organized and now I’m feeling a time crunch.

2. One friend has weighed in on my outfits. The other fashion-advising friend is coming over this morning.

3. I’d like to check out that Yoga class. But an hour and a half in mid morning is probably not manageable for me.

4. I can’t think too hard about being away from the girls for four days next week. Just trying to focus on getting ready for the conference.

5. Now I’m running hills and loving it. Next I’m going to try to take the big hill. Not this morning. It’s a little rough of a run because I did Zumba last night.

Forty-Nine and Still American

I’ve often thought that if I wrote a autobiography I’d call it “American Bitch.” When I was married to my first husband, an Arab, who used the term frequently, I used to bristle when he said it. By the time my marriage ended, I wore that label proudly.

Not to place too fine a point on the word “bitch.” but when he used he meant a strong, willful woman, that was maybe a bit loose with her body, that owned her sexuality.

And this essay is not about that really. Not about being a bitch. Not about my marriage. But I do refer to it in the pattern of my life—the one in which I claim who I am over and over again. I feel like a piece of clay, hacking away at pieces of myself sometimes and, other times, adding big chunks to it. And one of the biggest chunks is my identity as an American. And this is something I never really thought about until I was married to an Arab, and thought about even more clearly about when I left him.

Nobody tells me how to live my life. That one thought may be the most “American” thought for a woman to own.

I’m not necessarily talking about grand issues here—the way I choose to worship, what kind of job I may have, or if I have the right to vote. Many women in this world do not have the rights we claim as American women. So much so that we don’t even think about it, do we? We just assume. And we assume that we can live how we want to within our own homes. Imagine if you could not. Hard to fathom. Yet many women in this world have no rights, even within their homes, at all.

We have the right to say no with our bodies—even in our homes—and the right to say yes to whom we want.

We can also disagree with our husbands, fathers, and governments. Openly. Try that in Saudi Arabia. Or in any number of countries—in fact, most countries. That can even mean at the dinner table if your husband says something you disagree with, you keep your mouth shut. Always.

So when I see the political environment we live in today, I have to wonder if many American women have had the occasion to reflect on what it means to be an American. We are not just the products of our fathers, the extensions of our husbands—unless that is what you want to be. And if you do, I’d like to say, well, that’s up to you—but I’ll say it with a word of warning: it will come back to bite you in the end. Don’t ever give anybody your power. Especially the power over your body, which houses your heart, your mind, and, as far as we know, your spirit.

Make no mistake, among the many things the upcoming Presidential election is about is what it means for you to be an American woman. Sit with that.

As for me, I’m happy to be an American. I’m proud of my working class roots, proud of my education, proud of my family and community. When I leave this planet, I hope I leave it a better place, even in some small way, for my daughters and your daughters. Sons, too.  I’m proud of our history, as well, the good, the bad, and the mess that we are sometimes.

But in the mean time, let’s keep rolling forward, shall we? Let’s not give up any of the rights we have fought so hard to have. At this point in American culture, do we need to discuss what rape means, for example? Don’t we know that already? Also, don’t we know what Roe v. Wade has done for not just the women in this country, but also the people that care about them? I don’t get it. It pisses me off that my body, along with the bodies of my sisters, my mothers, and my daughters, are even a part of the political discussion in America. I just want to say, “This is a personal issue, so all you guys in suits debating about this should just back off.”

But then again. I am American and take the good with the bad. I expect discourse, but long for it to move forward.

When I was an intern working for an American newspaper owned by a British media company, my editor taught me the ways in which American writers and media view the world through their American viewpoints.  She had done her own internship years ago in England. Try this sometime, listen to the BBC news, compare it to our own, and you’ll see what she means. I know I’m guilty of viewing the world in my own very American terms. I acknowledge that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t respect and learn from other cultures—or that I think I am better than anybody else from any other part of this increasingly smaller planet.

It is simply a part of who I am.

The last time I spoke with my ex-husband, just a few years ago, was about some phone calls I was receiving from the government about his family. “I want them to stop,” I said. Of course, there was nothing he could do about it. Sometimes the past reaches out to the present in the strangest way. But during the conversation, I’m certain I heard him mutter Am-ri-can jente. American bitch.

Which only brought a huge smile to my face.

 

Making a SCRAPBOOK OF SECRETS at Bouchercon

I’m so excited to be attending “Bouchercon, The World Mystery Conference” next week in Cleveland, Ohio. I’ll be moderating the Crafty Sleuth panel, hosting a table at the Mystery Writer’s of America  Librarian breakfast, and attending the Kensington author reception, of course.

When the organizers of the conference asked me to teach a craft class, I said YES because I love scrapbooking and I love to spread the love. My class is called “How to Make You Own Scrapbook of Secrets.” For those who haven’t read my book, it will be a good intro to it, as well.

The actual scrapbook part of it is a paper bag. Yep. Just fold paper bags, punch holes along the  “spine” and voila, you have a little book. Now the really cool think about this little book is that the paper bag openings give the scrapbooker little “secret” slots for notes, pictures, and so on.

I’ve already made up the kits and sent them off to the hotel. (I’m so organized about some things that sometimes I scare myself.) Among the other goodies, each crafter will get a full-color cover flat of SCRAPBOOK OF SECRETS. Now they can use it however they want, of course. But this is how I used mine.

Now this is just a prototype. I hope that the attendees will have fun with this and take off in their own creative ways with the class materials. But I had a blast incorporating some of the things from the book into this little scrapbook.  

 

 

If you haven’t read it, you should know that scrapbooking is how my croppers find out some secrets about Maggie Rae, the woman who has died. So the secret slots relate very well to my book.

Side view of the secret slots.

 

This been great fun to plan and I hope to see many of you in Cleveland at the Marriott in the craft room at 2 on Friday, October 5. Be there, or um, ya know, be square.

Five things I thought about during my morning run:

1. My daughter Tess is reading  SCRAPPED. That kind of blows my mind.

2. She is not just working on a book. But a “series.” And so is my older daughter, Emma.

3. You know, I know a lot of kids that really love to write. I wonder what happens…many adults hate it.

4. But I read an interesting statistic that MOST people never read a book after they graduate from high school, YET something like 81 percent of the population says they dream of WRITING a book. hehe.

5. It may surprise a lot of people to know that if you want to write, it’s a good idea to read. Voraciously and not in your genre. It all informs your writing.

 

 

New Fall Cumberland Creek Recipes

This weekend I cooked up a storm. Fall does that to me. I just love the cooler weather and fall food. The next book in my Cumberland Creek Series is set in the fall so my scrappers are enjoying all kinds of good fall food. So, as I’m cooking food from SCRAPPED and thought I’d give you a few recipes along the way, instead of waiting until the book comes out in January.  Some new recipes will also be included in my newsletter, so don’t forget to sign up for it.

My daughter, Emma LOVED this soup, or should I say my second version of this soup.

The original version called for one teaspoon of cumin. In my first batch, the spice overpowered the soup. I thought it was okay and my husband loved it. But my pumpkin-loving daughter didn’t like it at all. So I made another batch, cut back on the cumin and added pumpkin pie spice. Now, that put a smile on Emma’s face.

In one of the opening scenes in SCRAPPED, my characters are enjoying some spicy pumpkin soup.

 

 Easy Spicy Pumpkin Soup

1 (15 oz.) can pumpkin

1-1/2 cup reduced sodium chicken broth

1 cup low fat milk (2%)

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

2 bay leaves

1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice, or to taste.

Mix first 5 ingredients and bring to simmer over medium heat. Simmer for 10 minutes.

Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Corn Pudding

Photo by azgalarneau.

I also made corn pudding with the classic Jiffy cornbread mix recipe. I don’t know who first came up with this, but it’s everywhere—and there’s a reason for it. It’s easy to make and it’s good. I like it because there’s no added sugar. It really is sweet enough without the sugar and my family gobbled this right up.

Once again, my scrappers are attending a funeral and this dish was featured at the meal afterward.

Jiffy Corn Pudding

1 can whole kernel corn, drained

1 can cream corn

1 stick butter

1 (8 oz.) pkg. sour cream

1 box Jiffy corn bread mix

Melt butter in dish. Put in corn and cream. Mix together well. Sprinkle corn bread mix over corn and stir all together. Bake 45 minutes at 350 degrees.

Five things I thought about during my morning run:

1. Green trees against gray sky.

2. Breeze blowing all around me. Trees are shimmering with sun and movement.

3. I love my neighbor’s dog. Comes over to say hello. Ya know, I just love dogs.

4. Oh yes. I’ve left HYBRID alone so long that I am now dying to get back to it. This week baby.

5. Such a gorgeous day. So perfect for a run or a walk or anything. Outside.