Alison DeLuca's Blog, page 32

Summer in April

Summer came early yesterday, with soaring temperatures and nary a cloud in sight. It's a bit unfair when this happens in April, since I am just not ready. My feet need severe attention, meaning I have to give them a pedicure to go and get a pedicure, just maybe I need to shave my legs, and my skin is fishbelly white.


Sooooo, that means it is time to dig out the self-tanner stuff. I'm a self-tanner pro; it goes with the territory of being the Palest Woman in the World. I know how to avoid the dreaded orange palm syndrome and achieve a good line of demarcation on my arms. Of course, I don't aim to look tanned, you understand. No, my goal is to appear "Somewhat Normal."
You forgot to - oh, I'll just be over there.

Good stuff comes with early summer too, though, and you know what I'm talking about:


1. Sprinklers, see Running Through - Watching your kid do this is one of the best things you can get for free.


2. Those popsicles with two sticks - Orange flavor for me, just so I can get that weird looking tongue. (Blue is too obvious.) And let's not even start with the Ice Cream Truck, aka Kid's Major Begging Potential.


3. Open windows - As long as it's not too hot, I'm going to open my windows and get as much fresh air as possible. Until that pollen wave comes along, of course.


4. BBQ'ed Food - Time for burgers and dogs and foil wrapped fish on the grill! Ever bake a potato on there? I swear, they're so good you don't need butter. And once one neighbor starts, the smell makes everyone else grill too. It's like dominoes.


which leads to...


5. Eating outside - The sun! The breeze! The fun! The flies! 


6. Squirting each other with a hose when you are supposed to be washing a car - (self-explanatory.)


7. Eyeing up the pool wistfully - and then going back to the hose.


8. Flip-flops - I really, really have to get that pedicure. 


9. Tree frogs - Who is the person who works the switch that turns those suckers on when the temperature hits a certain level?


10. Fresh corn and tomatoes - They're nearly here! 


11. Time to plant those sunflower seeds - so that, this year, my kid can grow the tallest plant in the world. Hey, it could happen!


12. And, out of the blue, one last random point - Last night I dreamed about hummingbirds. Does that mean anything significant? Maybe it was just cool for its own sake.
Dude - you ROCK

Time to go and drag out the aloe shaving cream and self-tanning lotion, but at least I'll be able to breathe fresh air as I suffer.

The Lamplighter's Special : Cover Reveal

 I'm doing a cover reveal today in conjunction with Danielle Sibarium-Tsapp. You can find her here.

Lisa was in my school in fifth grade: a tall, beautiful girl with short  golden hair that stood straight up on top of her head. I couldn't take  my eyes off her. Her clothes were gorgeous, in a "I don't care what  the world thinks; I'm going to wear what I want" sort of way.
I never thought that, years later, we would become best friends. We went to Ireland and Paris together. We hung out and talked for hours in the bamboo forest behind her house. She designed and made my prom dress. 
And now she is my cover artist. I'm incredibly lucky to have a designer that is extremely talented but and also one of my oldest, dearest friends. When we get on the phone to discuss cover issues, we always end up in fits of laughter, and at this point, after all this time, we can  read each other's minds.
Here is the cover she designed for my upcoming book, The Lamplighter's Special:
 

I love the way she contrasted the beautiful woman with red hair (my arch villainess, Barbara) with the fishbones on the side. And as The Lamplighter's Special is a steamship, the water detail on Barbara's arms and back is perfect.
And here is an excerpt from The Lamplighter's Special. The characters are on the steamship, and they are in the middle of a very strange voyage, through time and space, called The Passage:
The Passage
Lizzie felt herself get shaken back and forth, the way that the little dog in the alley behind their old house used to do with the large rats that lived there if he managed to catch one in his mouth. “Help me, someone! I can’t bear it!” she shouted. It was as though she had no words. The sound of her voice was snatched away. Ninna screamed something too, but Lizzie couldn’t hear her sister either. Under Lizzie’s hands, the machine seemed to get warmer. She could feel the heat. Something mechanical moved inside; it felt as though cogwheels and clockworks in the box that had been sealed up rotated faster and faster. She peered into the container that held the instrument, but the typing ball appeared the same as always – a delicate, brass machine with the letters sticking up from the apparatus like spikes on a hedgehog.She looked up suddenly. She could smell something. There was a scorched taste in the air that she could sense in her nose and on her tongue. In fact, it was almost as if she could hear the burnt smell, or even see it, although of course that was impossible.At that moment a shower of sparks flew past the window of the observation room. They landed on the sills and were followed by more sparks. It was hard to follow the arcs of the burning embers, due to the continuing motion of the ship. The glowing pieces shook in front of Lizzie’s eyes. Without her eyeglasses, she saw them as fuzzy stars. She wanted to put on the spectacles, but she didn’t dare let go of the box and the machine inside.The motion increased in speed. Lizzie realized she was moaning with the effort of staying in one piece. A rapid “Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh!” was forced out of her chest as the ship shook faster and with more force. Priam’s figure danced in front of her eyes. Next to her, Ninna rattled like a balsa puppet. Even Toby’s face, as close as it was, jittered in front of her vision like some kind of fevered dream. Oh, please, make it stop! Lizzie wanted to shout. But, no, that wasn’t really what she wanted to say. She looked at Priam, considering that she didn’t know Toby’s younger brother very well. From what he had seen, though, he seemed like a survivor. He was physically strong, and usually good-humored; he might be thoughtless at times but he seemed nice enough, at least until he had kissed that Miss Wilkins on the stairs.And Toby – it seemed terribly important that Toby was there, beside her, his warm hand next to hers. At that moment she sensed that it would always be that way, no matter what happened to them both.She formed a desperate, silent plea in her mind. Her one thought was: Take care of Ninna. She’s not that strong. Take her through this safely. If there is someone out there who can hear this, then guide my sister through this – this Passage.

Cover Reveal on Monday, April 16

Just a quick note to tell you that I'll be doing a cover reveal for my upcoming book, The Lamplighter's Special, on Monday. I'll add an exclusive excerpt, so be sure to stop back!

Books on My Bedside Table

My husband just shakes his head when he sees the huge, tottering pile of books by my bed. He is a methodical reader; he grabs one book and starts at page 1, reads it for a few months until he reaches the last page. He puts it aside, and that's it for that book.


I'm more of a Buffet Restaurant reader. Life has handed me all these amazing titles, so why not read a bunch at once? I have my couch book, my bed book, my meals book, even my cooking-the meals book, which explains a lot.


Here's what's on my bedside table. I'll be writing more about these books soon. For now I'll tempt you with the titles and covers:


1. Cornerstone, by Misty Provencher 


2. The Search for Wondla, by Tony DiTerlizzi 


3. 1Q84, by Haruki Murakami


4. The Prospect of My Arrival, by Dwight Okita


5. Darkness Rising, by Ross Kitson


6. The Bolter, Frances Osborne

Mom Ailments

Perhaps it's a symptom of Momhood. I'm convinced I have some disease that will carry me off before I send Bub out into the world of college and jobs. After all, no one else can raise her just like I can, so it's my nightmare that one of my current illnesses will go viral and take me away to the great Baking Grounds in the sky.


Then my husband will get remarried, and the new mom won't make Bub do her homework or go to sleep by 9 or brush the backs of her front teeth, or the fronts of her back teeth! I just know it!


Here are some of the things I suffer from:


Bubble Wrap Knees - That has to be the explanation for the noises I hear when I stand upright.
[image error] Hey, kid. That's my kneecap.

Nose Tumor - Actually, I cured this one. I had a really sensitive nostril for weeks and was convinced that something was really, really wrong. Took care of it with a big blow.


Mad Housewife Syndrome - My propensity for watching The Housewives of New York, of Ocean County, of Beverly Hills can be explained by a psychologist, I'm pretty sure. I can't be picking that stuff to watch just because I WANT to, can I? It's probably all due to brainworms. Yup, brainworms. Get rid of those suckers and I'll watch Nova every night.
I know! I'm not happy about it either!

This last is closely aligned to:


Honey Dipper Syndrome - I'm pretty sure those brainworms are making me play Hidden Object computer games too.


Downwardly Mobile Hair - Why is it all crawling off my head down onto my face? When does this happen, at night? Maybe that's why I wake with...




Dipped in Boiling Oil-itis - There I am, sleeping away quite happily, when I wake up gasping for air and the knowledge that gremlins have turned the heat in the bedroom to 90 degrees. I have to throw all the blankets onto my husband (reason #479 not to remarry - he's used to this by now) and open the window. In the middle of winter. And turn on the fan as well. Scary stuff.


Soppy Sickness - I used to be able to watch melodramas without a box of Kleenex. Now, one Hallmark commercial comes on and I'm a quivering mess.
Don't they know that GEICO Piggy could lose an arm waving pinwheels around?

And there are more, but perhaps you're having a snack as you read this, and I don't want to give you indigestion. So I won't talk about the muffin top, the toe nails ... no, let's not go there.

Yesterday

Yesterday I sat at my kitchen table, writing my blog and listening to my daughter in the background. She was doing her own book of cartoons, titled "Stick Man Do" (it's pretty darn funny.)


For no reason, I glanced out of the window. And froze. A wall of fire, long hungry flames, carpeted my neighbor's woods. I could see them through the chain link fence.


"OhmygoshFIRE!" I yelled. I ran for the phone. Thank goodness I had actually replaced it in the cradle this time. 
It's really weird to see this out of your kitchen window

As I dialed 911, my daughter began to freak out. I tried to calm her and talk to the man on the other end at the same time. He already knew my address, so with one push of a button (I suppose) he called the local fire fighters.


By the time I finished with the call, the flames were already in our back yard. They found our wood pile, handily stacked by the fence, as well as all of my kid's plastic outside toys. Goodbye, Wendy House, picnic table, rocking horse, and sand pit! It was a windy day, and I couldn't believe how quickly the fire spread through our woods, engulfing small trees and sending out billows of smoke.


I grabbed my kid's hand, pulled two coats from the closet, and dashed out of the house. The neighbor on the other side of us was there already, and she took my daughter as I went to deal with police, fire fighters, and ambulances.


Once those guys got into action, the fire knew it was beaten. Twenty minutes later the woods were a charred, dripping mess, but the fire was out.


There were several things I think about after all this:


A man, a stranger, pulled into our driveway before the firefighters got there. He grabbed my garden hose and started dousing our woods. I don't even know his name, and I don't think I ever got to thank him.


My neighbor took my kid into her house without a thought; I didn't even have to ask.


911 is amazing. 
[image error] Hurray for these guys! 

So are first responders. Those trucks were coming up our street within two minutes, and our town is a far flung, woodsy community. It must be a bear to patrol.


My kid is safe, and our house is fine. But, the most important part of that - MY KID IS SAFE.

Late as Usual; Or, The Lucky 7 Meme

I've been hit up by the lovely, supportive Teresa Cypher at Dreamers, Lovers, and Star Voyagers to do a Lucky 7  post. She didn't know, when she tagged me, that I'm always, always late.
So here I am, running in to post my Lucky 7 stuff. My hair is askew, there is a runner in my stocking, and I've  probably dropped  a few  bags along the way. My phone needs charging too.
Let's ignore my usual Hot Messiness and explain the Lucky 7 dealio:
Once you are tagged:
*go to page 77 of your current WIP
*go to line 7
*copy down the next 7 lines/sentences as written and post them on your blog or website
*tag 7 other authors
*let them know they've been tagged
 
Here's the thing, though; I have TWO Works in Progress. So, without further ado, here are the lines from The South Sea Bubble:

Lizzie smiled. It was still a miracle to see Mam out of her chair and moving about. She was desperately thin, and she had never regained her full energy, but her recovery from being one of "those tonic fiends" had secured Doctor Draper's reputation and filled his hospital."Now then." Mam handed Lizzie her tea. "Where did you say Matilda went?""She ran off again."
And here is the set of seven lines from The Gramophone Society:

He made a sound of disgust. "Me, of course, unless my aunt gets her way.""You?" Julia leaned towards him. "Victor, you are not hideous. The other girls all talk about how dishy you are. You must have noticed."
 Right. So now I have to tag some victims friends. Here they are:
Shaun Allan, at Sin's BlogLisa Yarde, at The Brooklyn ScribblerDanielle  Raver, at Philosophies of a Young HeartRachel Tsoumbakos, at Rachel Tsoumbakos's Blog  Lisa Zhang Wharton, at Eccentric Asians, Man-Eating Pandas & Other  Mysteries of the World (which is such a cool blog title)Patty Sarro, at Otherside of MehNatasha Larry, at Paranormal Wire

 Please visit them! They are all wonderful writers and lovely people!

Best Waffles Ever

I have the pickiest child in the world. In the history of mankind, maybe. What kid doesn't like watermelon? Or hot dogs? My kid, that's who.


She does like these waffles, though, and you bet I'm going to make them for Easter Brunch this Sunday. 
Also delicious with ice cream... just sayin'...

Best Waffles Ever


(Makes about twelve large waffles. These freeze really well.)


3 cups flour, sifted
1 cup cornstarch
2 tsp salt
2 tesp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
3 cups buttermilk (I buy it in those dried packets and add it in with the dry ingredients. The water goes in with the milk. Follow the directions on the box and you'll be fine, or go ahead and buy a carton of buttermilk.)
1 cup milk
1 1/2 cups veg oil - yeah, that's a lot of oil. But this makes a lot of waffles.
4 eggs, separated
4 TBS sugar
2 tsp vanilla


Heat oven to 200 degrees. Mix flour, cornstarch, salt, baking powder and baking soda (and the buttermilk powder if you're going that route)  in a large bowl.


Measure buttermilk, (or just the three cups of water if you're doing the powdered buttermilk thang), milk, and vegetable oil in a small bowl. Mix in yolk and set aside. At this point you want to start heating your waffle iron.


Beat egg whites to almost soft peaks. Sprinkle in sugar and continue to beat until white and glossy. Beat in vanilla extract.


Pour wet ingredients into dry ingredients and whisk until just mixed. Add egg white mixture in dollops. Fold them in until just incorporated.


Add batter to hot waffle iron and cook until crisp and nutty brown. Set waffle on rack on a baking tray in oven to keep warm, unless your family devours them right out of the waffle iron, like mine does.


Serve with syrup and fresh fruit to make you feel better about that oil.


Of course, you can add chocolate chips, wheat germ, orange zest, coarsely chopped dried cranberries....

Brunch Ideas

It's coming up to Spring Holiday time. Whether you call it Easter, Passover, or Spring Solstice, there are birds in the trees and pollen in the air.


At Casa DeLuca, we do an Easter Brunch. I always serve the Best Waffles Ever, and if you are very good I'll share the recipe this week. I make crepes and an egg strata, and plop a huge plate of bacon on the table. Stand back, and let the carnage begin.


Here is what I would really like to serve, although there are reasons that I do not serve these things:


1. Robin's Eggs - Those brightly egg-shaped malted milk balls in a candy shell. I could eat them for brunch and have them for dessert afterwards. Why don't I serve them? Because I would eat THE ENTIRE BAG, THAT IS WHY.
Nom nom nom

2. Bellinis - The combo of champagne, freshly squeezed orange juice, peach nectar, and a dab of peach liquor : Hang on, I do serve them at brunch. Carry on.
[image error] Let's all start drinking at breakfast! Okay!

3. Peeps: The more neon the peep the better. And did you ever have a chocolate covered peep? That's right, dunk the little chick or bunny in melted chocolate and let it set in the fridge. But apparently they are frowned upon as a brunch food, so I'll just have to steal one or two from my kid's basket later.
And yes, I have to puncture the box so they get a little crunchy. It's just how I roll.

4. Matzo Ball Soup - My friend makes the best MBS ever. EVER. I don't think I can get the recipe for you, though. She gives us all one small container each year, and I suck it down faster than Norm with a beer at Cheers. I don't serve it because I don't have her recipe. (Hi, girlfriend! Waving at you! Yes, this is a hint!)


5. Crispy Bacon Crisps - Because they are good any time, any place. But I only have one bag that I smuggled into the country from the UK, and I don't share them.
Go get your own.

The French Disconnection

I've noticed a growing trend in television and films (such as Mad Men and Awake) lately, and one that occurs in some of the best written scripts. There  seems to be a strange disconnect between the characters, as though they are all speaking a different language and cannot understand each other.
I first saw it in Lost, when I was such a huge fan. Someone (usually Hurley) would say something that  was perfectly pleasant, and no one would respond with corresponding pleasantness. Then, when someone else would say something nice to Hurley, he would respond with a cutting remark or an incredulous scoff - there are loads of incredulous scoffs, if you begin to notice- and walk off, alone.
Of course Sawyer was a master at this, with his oft-repeated "Yeah, well, what do you know about it, doc?" [image error]
It happens in Twilight - in both the books and the movies - where Alice, as hard as she tries, just  can't seem to connect with Bella in true friendship. I see it in Awake, although there I give the writers a pass, since they are dealing with themes of  recent loss and devastating life changes. I do hope that  some connections begin to develop between Michael and his partners, however.
Mad Men is a repeat offender. The women in the office just can't find a footing for a friendship beyond bitching about the boss or snippy gossip. In fact, the one way the characters really connect is with sex. And I say all this with love - I am a Mad Men fiend.
It was particularly noticeable when Peggy defended  Joan, and that gorgeous redhead responded by biting back. Peggy's reaction to that was, "Excuse me?!" And I felt like applauding.
Is it  a mark of good writing to have constant loneliness and a lack of friendship between the characters? Has that become a hallmark of a well-written script? Perhaps that is why Pulp Fiction and The Shawshank Redemption stand out for me, since they showcase believable friendships and continuing, deepening connections.
Maybe, in a plot-driven show,  it is difficult to give time to a real human connection - but, no. I refuse to believe it. It  can be done. The writers are incredibly talented, and I hope that friendship does become a bigger theme in the future.