Cindy Sample's Blog, page 3
February 6, 2013
My Dream Date – Fiction vs. Reality
As a single woman, and card-carrying member of the AARP, what are my expectations for the love interest in my life? I used to go for the tall, dark, silent type but lately that hasn’t worked out so well.
Am I still searching for a fellow who possesses a muscled physique, broad shoulders, slim waist, and a wicked grin? Or will I be satisfied if those perfect specimens of male hunkiness exist only between the pages of my favorite novels?
Women from eleven to eighty have devoured the books in the Twilight series; panting with desire over the youthful, brooding Edward Cullen or the delicious Jacob Black. Teenagers, moms and grandmothers flocked to the theater to view these romantic icons who are not only decades younger, but of the vampire or werewolf persuasion. So what do women really want?
I asked a male friend of mine to read an early version of DYING FOR A DATE, the first book in my romantic mystery series. He questioned why the detective investigating the murders had to be tall, dark and handsome? I pondered his comment and decided to change this character, a potential love interest, to a regular guy. I re-wrote him as a plain Joe, smart and funny, but not the sort of character that would make me rummage through my dresser in search of my black silk nightie.
When I shared the revised version with my critique group, their unanimous comment was, “what happened to Detective Hunk? The guy with the Dairy Queen hot fudge sundae brown eyes. We want him back!”
When it comes to our own love interest – do we care if he’s chubby, bald, and snores like a chain saw on steroids? No! We love him and he’s the guy we want to wake up with every morning. But we want to lust after the men we meet between the pages of our paperbacks!
In my own search for a perfect match, my top five items on my wish list have nothing to do with looks. I want someone who is witty, intelligent, kind, caring and energetic. A full head of hair is a plus, but these days it’s totally optional. A few extra pounds on his frame? I can help him work them off. Need a four-way bypass before our coffee date? Not a problem. Call me after they staple you back together.
But just because I’m practical in life, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the hot and cold of a romantic flirtation. It’s amazing how titillating a love scene an author can craft, using a washing machine and her imagination!
CONTEST ALERT!
I’d love to know your thoughts. Who are you looking for in fiction and real life? Leave a comment by midnight on Valentine’s Day, and you’ll be entered into a drawing for a box of See’s Truffles or a gift certificate worth $20 to the candy store of your choice.
January 30, 2013
The Popsicle Syndrome
Written by Guest Blogger Terry Ambrose
Today I welcome Terry Ambrose, author of two very funny mystery series.
Terry and his protagonists seem to have something in common.
Find out if you do as well.
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It’s not easy being a smart ass. There are days when it’s as simple as falling off a paddleboard. Plop. Yup, straight into the drink. Right side up, upside down. It makes no difference. As you can see, wet all over is still wet all over.
Then there are those days when the retorts and barbs don’t come easily. We’ve all done it, two hours after being under the gun, I’ll start talking to the walls. The perfect comeback, something that would have turned the tables or had everyone complimenting me on my brilliant wit, pops into my head. But in the moment when I needed my inner wise guy the most, I probably stood around like a melting popsicle.
And there it is, the Popsicle Syndrome. You might have it, too. Let’s take a look at what popsicles and people have in common. Do both have a skeleton? Check. Granted, a popsicle’s skeleton is just a stick, but what a stick! Popsicle sticks have been used to make replicas of everything from trucks to hotels to roller coasters. Martha Stewart showed us how to make a popsicle-stick house and the American Society of Civil Engineers conducts an annual Popsicle Stick Bridge Competition. And just to put this in perspective, when’s the last time you saw someone other than a maniacal serial killer in a B-movie build a bridge out of bones?
There’s also the sweetness factor. Check. He’s sweet. She’s a sweetheart. I’m sweet on you. But, people can also be a sourpuss, demonstrate a sour-grapes attitude, or sour a relationship. Did a popsicle ever do that? Of course not, a popsicle is always sweet.
I’ll grant you that people do have the advantage when it comes to the whole melting thing. When we have a meltdown, we hold our shape because the “melting” is metaphorical. But, when a popsicle goes, it’s just plain messy. And once the messy puddle starts to dry, it gets sticky. That does, however, bring up another issue. When one person melts over another, there usually is a sticky part in the relationship. The good news is that the popsicle mess can be cleaned up with a sponge and some soap and water—the people mess usually involves lawyers and lots of money. But, that’s a whole different post.
Do you suffer from Popsicle Syndrome? Or something similar? Can you summon those super-smart comebacks on command or does it take a little time to think them up?
CONTEST ALERT!
Leave a comment by midnight, Sunday, February 3, 2013, and you’ll be entered in a drawing to win an e-book of PHOTO FINISH or LICENSE TO LIE.
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Terry Ambrose (terryambrose.com) is a mystery author who also reports on real-life scams and cons on Examiner.com.
His most recent release is LICENSE TO LIE. Hank Phillippi Ryan, Anthony, Agatha and Macavity award-winning author, called LICENSE TO LIE a “smart and twisty tale of high finance and double dealing” and said, “This unlikely and irresistible crime-fighting duo will charm you – and keep you happily turning the pages.”
January 22, 2013
You Don’t Know Jersey
Written by Guest Blogger Lois Winston
It’s my pleasure to introduce my Guest blogger today, award-winning romance and mystery author, Lois Winston.
If you’ve watched Jersey Shore or read about New Jersey in Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series, you may think you know all about it.
But according to Lois:
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I live in a state that everyone seems to have a negative opinion about, especially those who have never set foot here. Welcome to New Jersey. Even though our motto is The Garden State, we’re more often, referred to as The Armpit of the Nation.
That stereotype and others are often reinforced by movies and TV shows such as The Sopranos, Jersey Shore, The Real Housewives of New Jersey, and Jerseylicous, not to mention a current loudmouth governor prone to bullying. Politics aside, I’m here to tell you that at least 95% of us are not like the people you see on your TV.
I think New Jersey is a pretty cool place to live. In less than an hour I can be in the mountains, down the shore, or in Manhattan, depending upon my mood. We have culture, sports, and cow pastures. Horse farms and high-rises. We’re home to the famous and the infamous.
We even legally own the Statue of Liberty, but try telling that to New York. However, since they usurped our national landmark, we took their beloved football teams. That’s right, folks, for those of you who live in other parts of the country, both the New York Giants and the New York Jets play in New Jersey.
Anyway, I like New Jersey so much that I set my latest series here. In a REAL New Jersey town. When I read a book, I love to connect with the locations. What I hate is when an author sets a book somewhere she’s never been and relies heavily on Google for her research. There are too many things about a place that Google won’t tell you because you didn’t know to ask. Like the fact that trucks aren’t allowed on most of the Garden State Parkway. Or that we go “down the shore” not “to the beach.” Nothing pulls a reader out of a story more than when an author doesn’t get her facts rights.
So for me, setting my stories in places I know is a no-brainer. Not only is it easier than making up a place or setting a book somewhere I’ve never been, it’s also a way of letting people know that there’s more to New Jersey than they’ve been led to believe.
Setting a book in New Jersey also gives me the opportunity to place my protagonist in diverse locations while still keeping her in or near her hometown. Many cozy mysteries take place in or around a small town in the Midwest, down South, or in New England. If the author wants to place her protagonist in a different environment, it involves the protagonist taking a trip. With a series set in New Jersey, I can have Anastasia shopping at Ikea in the morning, antiquing in Lambertville in the afternoon and at a casino in Atlantic City in the evening. At least, I could if she ever has two nickels to rub together again.
One caveat, though: As much as I love my state, I’ve been accused of having a biting sense of humor. So if you happen to read any of my Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries (and I hope you will!), you’ll often find my tongue planted firmly in my cheek as I describe my state.
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Award-winning author Lois Winston writes the critically acclaimed Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery series featuring magazine crafts editor and reluctant amateur sleuth Anastasia Pollack. Assault With a Deadly Glue Gun, the first book in the series, received starred reviews from both Publishers Weekly and Booklist. Kirkus Reviews dubbed it, “North Jersey’s more mature answer to Stephanie Plum.” The series also includes Death By Killer Mop Doll and Crewel Intentions, an Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mini-Mystery. Revenge of the Crafty Corpse is a January 2013 release.
Lois is also published in women’s fiction, romance, romantic suspense, and non-fiction under her own name and her Emma Carlyle pen name. In addition, she’s an award-winning crafts and needlework designer and an agent with the Ashley Grayson Literary Agency. She’s also the author of the recently released Top Ten Reasons Your Novel is Rejected. Visit Lois at http://www.loiswinston.com, visit Emma at http://www.emmacarlyle.com, and visit Anastasia at the Killer Crafts & Crafty Killers character blog, www.anastasiapollack.blogspot.com.
Revenge of the Crafty Corpse:
Anastasia Pollack’s dead louse of a spouse has left her with more bills than you can shake a crochet hook at, and teaching craft classes at her mother-in-law’s assisted living center seems like a harmless way to supplement her meager income. But when Lyndella Wegner—a 98-year-old know-it-all with a penchant for ruffles and lace—turns up dead, Anastasia’s cantankerous mother-in-law becomes the prime suspect in her murder. Upon discovering that Lyndella’s scandalous craft projects—and her scandalous behavior—made her plenty of enemies, Anastasia sets out to find the real killer before her mother-in-law ends up behind bars.
Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0738725862/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0738725862&linkCode=as2&tag=loiswins-20
January 1, 2013
Death By Spanx
Or is it?
I recently had an encounter that left me tormented and imprisoned. I’ve never felt such anguish before and hopefully will not suffer any permanent scars from this experience.
I’m talking about my visit to a local department store in search of a dress for a holiday party. The life of an author is fraught with peril. You are forced to remain sedentary for hours on end, hoping to achieve your desired word count by the end of the day. Unfortunately on most days, my carb count exceeds my word count.
At the store, I found dresses galore in every shape and color. Unfortunately none of them came in my shape. That’s when the saleswoman leaned in and whispered, “Why don’t you try Spanx?”
At first I thought she said Spankys, and I couldn’t figure out how eating pizza would help my current situation. Then I realized she was referring to the line of firmware that had made the female founder a bazillionaire.
When I hesitated, she confided that Katy Perry wore Spanx and was proud of it. If the singer of “Teenage Dream” could wear firmware, so could a card-carrying member of the AARP! I told her to bring on the Spanx.
Seconds later she produced a beige garment about the size of a toddler’s mitten. My expression must have appeared doubtful because she smiled and reassured me it would do the trick. My curves would miraculously realign.
I’m not the most scientific of souls, but I did ponder where exactly those curves would realign themselves. Hopefully at top mast!
After shimmying left and right, up and down, and sweating more profusely than a hot flash moment, I was firmly encased in an item that must have been designed by someone who also built torture chambers on the side.
I decided I would rather pull my upper lip over my forehead than wear this item for another second.
That’s when I discovered that the torture of getting into the Spanx item was nothing compared to getting out of it. After a ten-minute struggle, I was ready to have the store call for the Jaws of Life. With a final tug, I sent the miniature girdle down to my knees.
At last I was free. Unfortunately, I could not straighten up and celebrate because I’d pulled every single muscle in my back.
The bad news was I didn’t end up purchasing a new dress. The good news was that I no longer needed one, since it’s quite difficult to foxtrot when you’re bent over at a ninety-degree angle.
Anyone else suffer a “fashionable” moment? I’d love to hear your tale.
CONTEST ALERT!
Leave a comment by midnight January 6th, and you’ll be entered into a drawing for a $25 gift card of your choice. Here’s to a safe and Spanx-free New Year.
PRICING SPECIAL:
From Jan 1st – 6th, the e-book editions of DYING FOR A DATE and DYING FOR A DANCE have been reduced to $1.99. What a terrific New Year’s gift!
October 30, 2012
Trick or Treating Is Not for Sissies
Written by Guest Blogger Heather Haven
I love Halloween.
1. You get to dress up in crazy costumes, even when you’re giving speeches at the office! Anyone notice a similarity to the clown costume Laurel wore in DYING FOR A DATE? What detective wouldn’t want to smooch with a gal who looked like that?
2. And then there’s all that candy. Really, does it get any better than that? But not everyone feels that way. My guest, Heather Haven, a master at combining homicide and humor, shares her own childhood horror story. Heather is the author of the award-winning Alvarez Family Murder Mysteries. Murder is a Family Business, the first in the Alvarez series, won the 2011 Single Titles Reviewers’ Choice Award. A Wedding to Die For, the second in the series, was a 2012 finalist for EPIC’s Best eBook Mystery of the Year. Heather recently released Death Runs in the Family to rave reviews.
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I have a thing about witches.
Clowns don’t scare me, witches do. I remember seeing the Wizard of Oz on TV as a kid and absolutely freaking out. The Wicked Witch of the West – or is it the East? – was one nasty broad wielding a mean broom. And she had green skin! All over. Nightmares for days.
A short time later, Halloween found me sitting at the kitchen table cramming a giant Tootsie Roll in my mouth. I had made quite a haul, thank you, and while scarfing down my booty, happened to glance out the window. There was the hideous and repulsive face of a witch gaping at me through the windowpane! Bushy eyebrows, bulbous nose, beady little eyes, hairy warts everywhere. Green, green, green.
Have I mentioned how I freaked at seeing Margaret Hamilton in the Wizard of Oz? Nothing like the freak out when my nine-year old eyes clapped onto the horror staring back at me.
After swallowing the chocolate bar whole, my shrieks caused my dripping wet mother, covered only in soap and a towel, to come running from the upstairs bathroom. Our next door neighbor dropped her clothes basket in her backyard after hearing the screeches of her own terrified nine-year old daughter scurrying to hide under the bed. Dressed as a witch, my pal had been peering in my window to show me her costume. The episode ended with me throwing up on my entire stash of candy.
I have a thing about witches!
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Contest Alert!
Heather and I would love to hear your scary and/or funny Halloween stories. Leave a comment by midnight on November 2, and you’ll be entered into a drawing to win a box of Sees fine chocolates!
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Heather’s most recent endeavor is a 1940s holiday vintage mystery series starring a five-foot eleven, full-figured gal named Persephone Cole. ‘Percy’ Cole has the same hard-boiled, take-no-prisoners attitude as Sam Spade, Lew Archer, and Phillip Marlow, but tops it off with a wicked sense of humor. The first of the series, Persephone Cole and the Halloween Curse, takes place on New York City’s Broadway stage during World War II.
CLICK THE BOOK COVER TO PURCHASE AT AMAZON!
You can email Heather@HeatherHavenStories.com.
Check out her website http://www.heatherhavenstories.com/ or her blog at http://tinyurl.com/4nensnp http://www.facebook.com
October 2, 2012
Killer Recipes Even a Klutz Can Cook!
There’s a nasty rumor going around that I can’t cook. I’m not sure where this rumor started, but I’m guessing it began somewhere in my kitchen. Maybe near that burner that ignited the last time I tried to sear a salmon.Possibly it originated in the microwave. Have you ever seen a hot dog explode? It’s quite a sight.
I’m still peeling dried sweet potato fluff off my kitchen cabinets from last Christmas. They did add a nice orange luster to the oak, though.
The cooking gene seems to have skipped a generation in my family. Fortunately, my children determined at an early age that they preferred to eat food that did not come packaged in Styrofoam cartons, so they learned to cook to avoid starving to death. My daughter particularly excels in baking any recipe that involves chocolate, while I excel in eating any recipe that involves chocolate!
When All Romance e-books asked if I wanted to be included with the hottest romance authors in town, and all I had to do was contribute a recipe to their new Passionate Cooks, I immediately said yes. I wasn’t going to let a little thing like my inability to distinguish between a TSP. and a TBSP. stop me from swapping recipes with other romance authors.
These ladies have crafted sizzling recipes with even more sizzling titles. Who could resist Sensual Sticky Buns, Date Me – Baby, Passionate Pesto Pasta, Smokin’ Hot Bourbon Beef, and my particular favorite, Sexy Stromboli.
I have no idea what Sexy Stromboli is, but I definitely want one. I’m just not sure if I want it in the kitchen or my bedroom!
My own contribution is a recipe that was not handed down from generation to generation. It was handed up from my daughter. With a slight tweak from moi. In honor of my passion for ballroom dancing, I’ve named it Hot Cha Cha Cha Chipotle Cake.
Once you’ve eaten a slice, you’ll need to cha cha off those tasty calories.
CLICK HERE for the FREE cookbook , and get yourself a copy today.
CONTEST ALERT: If you leave a comment (before midnight – PST – on Friday, October 5th about any entertaining cooking mishaps you’ve encountered (I know I’m not alone), you’ll be entered in a drawing to win a $10 gift card to All Romance eBooks.
September 27, 2012
Where Do Ideas Come From?
Written by Guest Blogger Kaye George
Today I welcome guest blogger Kaye George. Kaye has been a janitor, a mental health center secretary, a short order cook, a violinist, an online mystery reviewer, and is now an award-winning short story writer, two-time Agatha nominee, and the author of the hilarious Imogene Duckworthy mysteries, Smoke, Choke, and soon to be released Broke. Kaye is also the President of the Guppies, an on-line chapter of Sisters in Crime devoted to helping unpublished and newly published mystery writers. Join Kaye for her post about the dreaded question fans just love to ask.
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WHERE DO YOU GET YOUR IDEAS?
I have to admit, this is a burning question for a lot of people. It must be, because I get asked it a lot. I’ll bet every writer does. And you know what? Every writer dreads that question because we have no idea. Really. I know that’s hard to believe, but, most of the time, my ideas just pop up, unbidden.
I can tell you a few sources, though. I once wrote a story for a themed magazine issue, but the magazine folded before that issue could be published. Another time, there was an anthology that wanted entries containing several key words, and I wrote a story using all the words (most cleverly, I might add), but the story wasn’t accepted. Both of those stories were accepted later by other publications having nothing to do with the original prompts.
My Neanderthal mystery (yet to be published, but soon, I hope) arose from my life-long interest in archeology, geology, and anthropology. Plus a little sprig of inspiration from a short story writer. It was in either Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine or Ellery Queen, that an author said the further back in history you go, the better. I don’t remember the author—the stories were either ancient Roman or Greek or Egyptian—but I remember my reaction. I knew I could go WAY further back than that. I went back 30,000 years. Loved, loved, loved writing that book. I look forward to writing a sequel someday, too.
This brings me to the impetus for writing the Imogene Duckworthy series. The research was intense for the Neanderthal, Ice Age stuff and I was deeply involved with my tribe, to the extent that they became real people to me. My reaction was to want to write something the opposite, something as wild and crazy and flippant as possible.
Thus, I conceived the idea for an Inept Detective, a person who solves crimes in spite of herself. (This is somewhat of a no-no in detective circles, having accident and coincidence solve cases. So I went for it.) Right away, I knew her name would be Imogene. Forgive me if this is your name, but it seems an ideal comedic name. Her surname took longer. I wanted the last initial to be D for the Inept Detective (wording which I completely dropped), but what?
Driving home to Taylor from Austin one night, we went past the football field for the Hutto Hippos (used in the opening of the TV show Friday Night Lights), and I lamented I couldn’t use the preposterous Hutto Hippos somewhere. But, aha, Taylor’s team is the Ducks. Just as funny, really. So she became Imogene Duckworthy.
Where the plots for the books came from, is harder. I have no idea.
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Contest Alert!
If you’re a writer, do you know where you get your ideas? If you’re a reader, is this something you wonder about? Leave a comment by midnight, September 30, and you’ll be entered into a drawing to win an e-book version of either Choke or Smoke. The third book in the series Broke will be appearing soon!
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Check out Kaye’s website www.kayegeorge.com for news about her upcoming Fat Cat Mystery Series with Berkley Prime Crime. Kaye is also a contributor to Make Mine Mystery.
May 8, 2012
Dancing with the Baby Boomers (or What an Author Will Do to Sell Books)
As far as I’m concerned, you’re never too old to wear pink fringe, although some folks may dispute this statement after watching my video. And if performing a cha-cha solo and shaking my booty helps sell books, then I’m in!My ballroom journey began a few years ago. Having unsuccessfully dragged an ex-husband or two to ballroom dance classes (unsuccessful being defined by the word “ex”), my dream of learning ballroom dancing remained unfulfilled. Mesmerized by images of actors, singers, and athletes performing on Dancing with the Stars, I thought if Emmett Smith and Donald Driver could waltz across the floor in size fifteen shoes, how hard could it be? If I couldn’t at least keep up with Carson Kressley, I would hand over my feather boa.
To him!
Armed with a free coupon and shiny new satin heels, I signed up for a private lesson, assuming my natural sense of rhythm would instantly prove me a star.
Wrong. Sure the rules say guys are supposed to lead, but everyone knows women learn dance steps faster. But in ballroom dance, the woman has to follow, even if her partner has no sense of rhythm and waltzes to tango music. Eventually, I realized it wasn’t so bad letting someone else be in charge. Once I stopped fighting, I started gliding.
After somewhat mastering the smooth dances, we moved on to the smoldering Latin dances. Since my hips remain titanium free, I figured rumba and cha-cha would be a piece of shortcake for me. Nope. Evidently my hips only swivel in one dimension. Not that anyone has ever complained. But Latin dances require Cuban motion: a three- dimensional figure eight using your hips. It turns out practicing my rumba walk down the local Safeway’s aisles makes grocery shopping very entertaining. Especially for the other shoppers.
My teacher was amazed that I learned my lessons so quickly. Unfortunately, I forgot them even faster. After instructing me in the same steps four weeks in a row, I asked if our lessons reminded him of the movie Ground Hog Day. He smiled and replied, “Give it time.”
He was right. I’ve not only mastered the art of following, my short-term memory has improved so dramatically I may try out for Jeopardy. My hips are now awesome in several dimensions, and they only creak occasionally. While it’s unlikely I’ll ever out swivel Karina Smirnoff, Gladys Knight better watch out. Shoot. I might even take on all of the Pips!
Although most of my dance partners make me feel as graceful as Ginger Rogers, occasionally I have a Three Stooges moment, much like my protagonist, Laurel McKay. In Dying for a Dance, she trips her instructor and crashes into a pair of dancers, breaking the heel of her shoe in the process. It’s amazing how much she and I have in common. Fortunately I’ve never stumbled over a dead dancer.
Yet.
Either way I’m having a grand time. And if I have to don pink fringe to sell a few books, why not? If you can’t have fun as an author then you’re in the wrong line of work!
So how far will you go to sell books? Is there a secret hobby you’ve been dying to try?
Leave a comment by midnight May 15, and you’ll be eligible to win an 8 inch chocolate stiletto (yum yum) or if that doesn’t entice you, a $20 gift certificate of your choice.
April 22, 2012
Behind the Scenes at Left Coast Crime
Chairing a convention provides unique insights and mass quantities of emails. For instance, it took at least 250 emails before we discovered that dessert choices for a banquet should not be democratically decided by committee. This, of course, forced Robin and me to submit to a dessert tasting. A tough job, we know, but those carbs kept us fueled for weeks, and just in time to begin the huge task of preparing the program which means moving panelists around a huge matrix in order to provide the best panels for them as well as the attendees. Our program chairs, Marlyn Beebe and Elaine Yamaguchi, worked night and day, and despite a deluge of 2:00 AM emails, maintained their sense of humor.Determining the price of a convention is always a challenge. Initial registrants lucked in with an early bird fee of $150 and the price gradually increased to the 2012 rate of $225. It might surprise people to know that the meals that were included (2 breakfasts, one reception and an awards banquet) ran $168 per person. Then there are the free book bags, books, cool LCC promo items and program books.
You don’t need to be a math whiz to see that the bottom line for a convention can easily turn into something resembling the national debt (minus a few zeros.) Fortunately sponsors such as the MWA, the Sacramento and NorCal chapters of Sisters in Crime, and HarperCollins stepped in to share some of the expenses. A number of publishers graciously donated a truckload of books to fill the book bags to overflowing and to ensure shoulder dislocations among the weak.
I could go on and on (we all know my babbling skills are excellent) but the bottom line is that running a convention is like strategizing a military campaign. And the real bottom line is represented by the incredible group of people who were willing to put in thousands of unpaid hours to make this a wonderful event. Shout outs go to Sue Trowbridge, our webmaster; Noemi Levine, Treasurer and Fan GOH; Toby Gottfried, official book snarer; Janet Rudolph, publicity chair and master tweeter; Verna Dreisbach, who brought in ad revenue; and Vallery Feldman, who skillfully displayed the ads in the program. A personal thanks to Volunteer chairs, Pat and Larry Morin who worked through the duration of LCC, and without whose assistance, I’d be locked up in a padded cell. Stan Ulrich and Lucinda Surber not only handled awards, signs, and room monitors, but also took care of everything I forgot.The financial benefactor of our convention was the Sacramento Library Adult Literacy Program. Library Director Rivkah Sass provided a stirring tale of the people benefited by this wonderful program. Jean Utley’s auction committee wrapped and tied ribbons for 75 donated silent auction items. Between those items, the raffle for the beautiful quilt created by Pam Dehnke and Vallery Feldman, and excellent auctioneering by Donna Andrews and Harley Jane Kozak, almost $8,000 was raised for this program.
Running a convention means you’re exposed to the good, the bad and the annoying. What never ceased to amaze me was the number of volunteers who not only paid the registration fee but also worked tirelessly and cheerfully. Putting on a convention is a labor of love and these folks, and there are many, will hold a place in my heart forever.
I’ll always be grateful I had this opportunity to work with Robin, to make new friends, to create a congenial networking atmosphere for mystery authors and fans, and to leave everyone with wonderful memories.Plus I lost 4 lbs. in 4 days running up and down those darn stairs. Heck of a fitness program!
Some folks say e-books will make conventions disappear but based on our 600 attendees, I disagree.
The bigger, burning question is whether you attend conventions and if so, what do you get out of them? And if by chance you’re interested in chairing one, please let me know. I have a bridge I’m looking to sell.
March 6, 2012
Hey Doc, Can I Tweet My EKG?
When my teen idol–Davy Jones–died of a heart attack last week, I reflected on the fact that only thirty-six hours earlier, I was lying on an examining table waiting to have my own ticker checked.
I would attach a photo as proof, but the world has barely recovered from JLo's nipplegate incident at the Oscars! We don't need a baby boomer version.
My original appointment was for my annual physical with my gynecologist. Since I'm the queen of multi-tasking, I took advantage of this medical opportunity and mentioned the chest pains I'd been experiencing for the past month. He looked at me appalled then stated: "But I'm only interested in what's below your waist."
It's been a long time since someone's uttered that phrase to me.
Fortunately he hopped on the phone and shortly thereafter I was on my way to see another doctor who would minister to my "above the waist" issues. Minutes later I was stretched out on an examining table, grateful that the satellite reception was strong enough so I could continue returning emails while the nurse strapped electrodes to my bare chest.
As my thumbs worked furiously in unison in an effort to squeeze out that last "oh so important" reply before they ran the EKG, it occurred to me that perhaps the reason behind my chest pains was the mobile instrument that had become an additional appendage to my body.
As an author, it's important to utilize social media to push our books and our personal brand. We Facebook, Tweet, Google+, and Tumble because we're told that's what we must do to sell books. If you add the stress of co-chairing a huge mystery convention in Sacramento like Left Coast Crime (heaven forbid I miss an opportunity to plug this conference) the stress levels can become so high I'm forced to medicate…
With chocolate!
Evidently I'm not the only patient who's been experiencing Social Media Stress Syndrome. It's a highly contagious disease. Fortunately it's curable by a minimally invasive process. With luck, my phone won't have to be surgically detached from my tapping fingers.
Of course, the physical therapy that follows can be tricky. No social media for at least 24 hours? If I can't tweet, how can my tiny twibe of tweeps survive? Can my Facebook friends and fans face a day without my smiling face and clever posts? Will my gaggle of Google plus connections glower over my absence? (Probably not, since I currently have a gaggle of one.)
What a surprise! The world can go on. And since I definitely plan on hanging around for a few more decades, a little less self-inflicted stress will be the best prescription for a heart healthy life.
Besides, even God rested on the 7th day!
I'd love to learn how you maintain your sanity in the new age of social media.
Leave a comment by March 13th, and you'll be entered in a drawing to win a $15 iTunes gift card guaranteed to provide the soothing backdrop to a stress less day.
