Becky Clark's Blog, page 18

The Semester of Our Discontent

The beauty of orbiting various communities of writers is that I get to meet so many great writers and read books I might never have stumbled on otherwise.

Plus, I love sharing new writers and books with you!

If you like cozy mysteries, you will love Cynthia Kuhn‘s The Semester of Our Discontent. It’s set in the world of academia and is full of little tidbits about that world. One of the cool things I like about books — cozy mysteries especially — is getting immersed in a world I know nothing about.

I know, I know. It is surprising I’m not an academic. I exude such deep, scholarly … you know … juice ‘n stuff.

Here’s the blurb….

The Semester of Our Discontent (Henery Press, 2016)

English professor Lila Maclean is thrilled about her new job at prestigious Stonedale University until she finds one of her colleagues dead.  She soon learns that everyone, from the chancellor to the detective working the case, believes Lila—or someone she is protecting—may be responsible for the horrific event, so she assigns herself the task of identifying the killer.

More attacks on professors follow, the only connection a curious symbol found at each of the crime scenes. Putting her scholarly skills to the test, Lila gathers evidence, but her search is complicated by an unexpected nemesis, a suspicious investigator, and an ominous secret society. Rather than earning an “A” for effort, she receives a threat featuring the mysterious emblem and must act quickly to avoid failing her assignment…and becoming the next victim.

I’m so proud to know Cynthia. Not only does she write these Lila Maclean academic mysteries, but she’s one of those rare creatures who makes the world a happier place simply because she’s in it. You want to be a better person because she’s so fantastic. I met her when a few of us decided to start up the Colorado chapter of Sisters in Crime. She’s our President and Fearless Leader. (Don’t tell her, but I kinda can’t say no to her. I went to the first meeting having vowed right out loud that I wasn’t volunteering for anything. I left as one of the programming coordinators.)

This is Cynthia’s debut novel, but her work has appeared in McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern, Literary Mama, Copper Nickel, Prick of the Spindle, Muddy River Poetry Review, Mama PhD and other publications. She has also produced studies on contemporary gothic and dress/fashion in literature. Originally from upstate New York, Cynthia currently teaches English at MSU Denver and really IS a scholar!

Get your hands on a copy of The Semester of Our Discontent and enjoy meeting Lila Maclean and her cohorts. (When you’re done, don’t forget to leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads … and tell your friends!)

Book Links:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

iTunes

Kobo

Author Links:

Twitter: @cynthiakuhn

Facebook: www.facebook.com/cynthiakuhnwriter

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/cynthiakuhn

Blog: mysteristas.wordpress.com

 

Mother’s Day

Because I only do for others every minute of every day … and because I’ve been named Mother of the Decade …  I was asked recently for advice on how to shower Mom with affection on her upcoming holiday.

As I think about it, though, I guess it could have been a ploy to keep me from talking about myself so much, but we don’t dwell on unpleasantness like that in BeckyLand.

At any rate, here are some inexpensive ideas for those of you hit hard by the recession. Remember, it doesn’t mean there has to be a recession of love.

• Get busy on a stylish macaroni necklace for the mom in your life. The more glitter the better. In fact, spill a bunch on the carpet. Moms love that.

• One year I brought a new baby boy home from the hospital on Mother’s Day. I had to return him a few days later at the request of the hospital administration … some legal mumbo jumbo about kidnapping and indictments. It might not be the right gift for everyone, but it was a fun way to celebrate before my prison sentence.

• Hand-letter some “Hug Coupons.”  These are best if you live near her. And have impeccable hygiene.

• Give her a six-pack of beer. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that there are six hours on Sunday afternoons. Mother’s Day is no exception.

• If you still live at home, move out. If that’s not quite feasible because you’re, say, between “this many” and 34-going-on-35, then at least give her a written timetable for when she might get her life back.

• Bestow upon Mom one of your grimiest, most used toys, elaborately and lovingly wrapped in the Sunday funnies. She’ll appreciate the humor that makes it look like you “forgot” Mother’s Day. Again.

• Bring her a carefully crafted breakfast in bed that includes a Mom-sized portion of Teriyaki beef jerky, a fruit roll-up with maple syrup dipping sauce, and a can of Mountain Dew. Include a straw and a couple of napkins from Burger King. Make it elegant.

• Everyone knows moms never get enough time to themselves to indulge in their favorite relaxation activities, so help her by managing her time for her. Read the current issue of Mad Magazine to her through the bathroom door while she soaks in the tub. Be sure to shout so she hears every calming word.

• Go to the mall with her and mock hoochie girls. That’s some good bonding time right there. Really, a gift for you both.

• Start doing your own laundry. But in a good way. Not the way that requires her to grab the mop and call the repairman.

• Transplant spider glands into your body so you can spin your own silk to make her a pretty scarf. (Granted, some of these ideas are more complicated than others. I guess it just depends on how much you love your mother.)

• Friend her on Facebook and make a conscious effort not to delete all the messages she writes on your wall. You don’t have to send her a L’il Green Plant though. Some things are obvious.

• Sneak a peek at the appointment book at your local day spa and smuggle your mom in as “the two o’clock.” Be sure to get there early. Oh, and before you go, remind her to wear sneakers as there might be running involved. Call it “cardio” if you must, but don’t refer to a police chase through the downtown streets.

• Quit playing wii for ten minutes so Mom can yogafy herself in the exertvputeraryden room. Or if you just can’t drag yourself away, would it kill ya to invite her to wii bowl once in awhile?!

• Clog her inbox with adorable videos of cute widdle puppies like this one …

• Put on a show! Act out all the parts in her favorite movie. Or Star Wars.

• Nominate her for Mother of the Year. This is really an idea for next year because, as I’ve mentioned, I’ve already won for this decade … But it will give you the jumpstart over your siblings a mere twelve months from now. THEN you’ll be her favorite.

• Better yet, let Mom agonize over and analyze every little thing in your life — from your poop to your diet to your clothing choices to the way you drive to your love life to how you raise your kids, whether you have any or not. Seriously. This makes her happy.

I hope I’ve helped make your Mother’s Day celebration special. And to my own mom I say, “Hey … Wanna wii bowl?”

What will you be doing for your mom this Mother’s Day? Which of these things are you hoping for from your kids?

What If?

I’m still reeling over a conversation I had with a friend at my book club the other night.

In passing I said something about wondering what your life would be like if you’d never had kids. She looked at me as if I had inadvertently started reciting ancient Sanskrit texts about cheesemaking.

She said she never did anything like that.

She must have misunderstood me. “You’ve never come upon a car accident and been thankful that you stopped to tie your shoe or else it could have been you t-boned in the intersection?”

Nope.

“You’ve never pictured how your life would be now if you’d gone to a different college or grown up in a different town or been born a different race … or … or?”

Nope.

I’m still stunned because I think about things like that forty-leven times a day.

What if my boys hadn’t been in marching band in high school? I wouldn’t have met her or been in this book club.

What if my oldest son hadn’t worked a crap retail job where he met a kid who joined the Navy? He wouldn’t have joined and wouldn’t have worked in emergency medicine to find out how much he loved it. Plus, my younger son wouldn’t have joined and therefore wouldn’t have been in Guam to meet and marry his lovely wife. And what if she hadn’t joined the Navy?

What if we hadn’t taken that vacation to the Pacific northwest? My daughter wouldn’t have fallen in love with the area, wouldn’t be living there now, and wouldn’t have met and married her lovely husband. And what if they didn’t have the mutual friend who introduced them at her birthday party? What if she decided not to have that party?

What if I’d have chosen a different college? I wouldn’t have met hubs or created those amazing creatures we call our children.

Those questions never end for me and it honestly never occurred to me that everyone doesn’t do the same thing.

My family will attest to the fact that I’m a planner. I love lists and any/all methods of organization. I ALWAYS have a contingency plan. I’ve seen those people on the side of the highway with a flat tire on their way to the airport. I ALWAYS know who I can call to rescue me in any situation.

Lest you think I’m a complete whackjob, because I fear it’s beginning to show, this doesn’t preoccupy all my thoughts and actions. But I take comfort in knowing regardless of what the universe throws at me, I have a way (often several) to cope.

Of course, who’s to say that your life would be better or worse if one little butterfly flapped his wings differently? It’s all utterly unknowable, and maybe that’s the draw for me.

In my novels I tend to explore the issue of a perfectly ordinary someone thrown into extraordinary circumstances. What will they do? What would I do?

In Banana Bamboozle, a slightly overweight middle-aged woman sees a girl she is convinced is her niece, even though the niece died as an infant.

In Marshmallow Mayhem, she and her cohorts stumble on a dead body.

In the new mystery I’m *thisclose* to finishing, a midlist mystery writer is pulled kicking and screaming into a murder investigation that hits way too close to home.

What would I do? What would you do?

And for years I’ve been noodling over a novel about the seemingly inconsequential choices we make every single day that could lead to either your best day or your worst, if only you veered left instead of right. Guess what the working title is? Yep … “What If?”

The concept fascinates me. Maybe that’s why I’m a writer.

What about you … do you ever play the ‘What If’ game? Do you think I’m a complete whackjob? Because of this or all the other weird stuff you might know about me?

One Question Interview — Mark Stevens

I started doing my One Question Interviews because I am lucky enough to be able to meet tons of eclectic and interesting authors. It occurred to me you might want to meet them, too. So I wrote a dozen or so questions on index cards, steered the authors to a quiet corner with me and my iPhone, then had them pick a question at random. I hope you like them and their books as much as I do. Visit their websites, find them on social media, buy their books, and/or ask your library to carry them. Share this post and the video with anyone who might like their books.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mark Stevens‘ newest mystery was nominated for a Colorado Book Award! I’ve read his Allison Coil series and I wish I had more than two actual thumbs-up to give. I guess I could get by with some metaphorical thumbs, but I’m not zen like that.

 

 

 

Mark has a presentation “Write What You Don’t Know” coming up at

Bemis Library
Saturday, April 16 from 2 – 4:30 p.m.
6014 S. Datura Street Littleton, CO 80120

 

 

Kimberly G. Giarratano’s New Mystery!

Kimberly Giarratano is one of my fellow Mysteristas. She writes spooky mysteries for teens and adults. I haven’t read this new one yet, but I can’t wait!

Murder and mayhem in a haunted hotel.

Dead and Breakfast, the first book in the Cayo Hueso Mystery series, is now available! Set in Key West, Florida (one of the 10 most haunted cities in America), it’s the story of two teens who try to put a vengeful spirit to rest by solving her murder. Perfect for mystery lovers of all ages.

Don’t have a Kindle? No worries. The paperback will be out in April.

Find Kimberly on Twitter, join her Reader Club and check out her other books …

2015 Silver Falchion Award Winner

Parted by death. Tethered by love.

Lainey Bloom’s high school senior year is a complete disaster. The popular clique, led by mean girl Wynter Woods, bullies her constantly. The principal threatens not to let her graduate with the class of 1997 unless she completes a major research project. And everyone blames her for the death of Wynter’s boyfriend, Danny Obregon.

Danny, a gorgeous musician, stole Lainey’s heart when he stole a kiss at a concert. But a week later, he was run down on a dangerous stretch of road. When he dies in her arms, she fears she’ll never know if he really would have broken up with Wynter to be with her.

Then his ghost shows up, begging her to solve his murder. Horrified by the dismal fate that awaits him if he never crosses over, Lainey seeks the dark truth amidst small town secrets, family strife, and divided loyalties. But every step she takes toward discovering what really happened the night Danny died pulls her further away from the beautiful boy she can never touch again.

The Lady in Blue stole a car and fled Ash.

Out on Devlin Road she emerged from a crash.

She wandered the woods with her head dripping blood.

Then drowned in the river in water and mud.

All her life criminology student Liz Bloom has heard this rhyme, meant to scare young campers. When she’s about to take on her first cold case, Liz learns the eerie song is about her great aunt Lana. Liz isn’t big on studying, but she does have one advantage most criminologists don’t — she can speak to the dead.

In 1955, Lana Bloom was an eighteen-year-old beauty with Hollywood dreams who fell in love with a stranger. When Lana died in a bloody car crash, all signs pointed to the mysterious man who was never seen again.

As Lana unravels the details surrounding her last week of life, the tale she weaves for Liz is one of desire, betrayal, and murder. But if Lana can’t identify her killer, not only will a murderer escape punishment, but her ghostly form will cease to exist. And Liz will have failed the most important assignment of all – family.

This collection of sci-fi stories features brainy young heroines who use their smarts to save the day. Girls who fix robots and construct superhero suits, hack interstellar corporations and build virtual reality platforms. Who experiment with alien chemicals and tinker with time machines. Who defy expectations and tap into their know-how—in the depths of space, or the bounds of dystopia, or the not-too-distant future—to solve despicable crimes, talk to extraterrestrials, and take down powerful villains.

All revenues from sales of this anthology will be donated a scholarship fund through the Society of Women Engineers. Let’s show the world that girls, too, can be tomorrow’s inventors, programmers, scientists, and more.

STORIES BY:

Martin Berman-Gorvine, Paige Daniels, George Ebey, Mary Fan, Kimberly G. Giarratano, Valerie Hunter, Evangeline Jennings, Stephen Kozeniewski, Jason Kucharik, Kate Lansing, Tash McAdam, Kate Moretti, Ursula Osborne, Josh Pritchett, Aimie K. Runyan, Davien Thomas, Lisa Toohey, and Leandra Wallace

 

 

 

 

At The Last Minute

I am a creature of habit. I like schedules and checklists, maps and files. Grocery store trips are never launched without a lengthy list, often written in the order I expect to tackle the aisles. Errands are grouped in the most efficient manner. I know deep in my soul that filling in calendar squares tames the chaos. A weekly planner still in its cellophane sets off waves of anticipation some people reserve for foreplay.

I live by the maxim, “Better an hour early than a minute late.” I’m the first person to the airport gate, the movie theatre, and the meeting.

Outlines for the novels I write litter my computer desktop like so much digital confetti. And by “litter” I mean, “placed in appropriately labeled, color-coded folders lined up and down my screen as precise and tidy as a high school marching band.”

All this to illustrate I do nothing at the last minute. So, imagine my surprise when a recent wild defensive swerve of my steering wheel — at the last minute — averted my literal last minute.

One Question Interview — Zoe Burke

I started doing my One Question Interviews because I am lucky enough to be able to meet tons of eclectic and interesting authors. It occurred to me you might want to meet them, too. So I wrote a dozen or so questions on index cards, steered the authors to a quiet corner with me and my iPhone, then had them pick a question at random. I hope you like them and their books as much as I do. Visit their websites, find them on social media, buy their books, and/or ask your library to carry them. Share this post and the video with anyone who might like their books.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

ZOE BURKE lives in Portland, Oregon, where No Gun Intended, her new Annabelle Starkey mystery, takes place. In Jump the Gun, the plot began in Chicago and ended up in San Francisco, with Las Vegas in between. Burke is working on the next book in the series, which–so far!–is situated in Manhattan. But no matter where the action takes place, the Annabelle Starkey series is an entertaining read suitable for any couch or beach chair.

Find Zoe Burke at her website … on Facebook … and at Poisoned Pen Press.

Zoe has a book signing coming up at

Copperfield’s Books

850 4th Street

San Rafael, California

March 26, 7:00 pm.

 

 

 

 

How To Put Sunscreen On A Dog

Nala the WonderDog was recently diagnosed with Discoid Lupus Erythematosus (DLE). Colorado, where we live, has an extremely high rate of auto-immune diseases, both in people and in pets. And they don’t really know why.

Just like “people lupus,” DLE is an immune disease, but instead of affecting the whole body, it mostly just affects her nose.

Over the course of about 18 months, she has slowly lost the black pigment and cobblestone texture of her nose. No other symptoms, and it doesn’t bother her one bit.

There’s no cure for DLE, but symptoms can be managed with a topical ointment my dermatology veterinarian prescribes. [Yeah, read that again. I have a doggie dermatologist.] I expect to receive it in the next day or two and I’m told within a couple of months, we’ll see her nose return to its former glory. I’ll report back.

In the meantime, and forever, I’m supposed to put sunscreen on her widdle nose before she goes outside for longer than 10 minutes. It has to be broad-spectrum, at least 30 SPF, waterproof, and non-toxic.

I’ve been doing this for a couple of weeks, kinda sorta, and I’ve come to the conclusion there are Four Stages of Dog Sunscreening one must pass through.

First Stage — Oblivious

This is where you think “how hard can it be?” You dab a bit of sunscreen on your finger, rub it on her nose then walk away, thinking your job is done. That nose is licked clean before you even cap the tube.

Second Stage — Reasoning

Here, you apply the sunscreen using the same logic you would with your children or recalcitrant spouse, saying things like, “We can’t go outside until you put it on” and “All the other husbands are doing it.” It’s very similar to telling a child (or a recalcitrant spouse), “You can’t have your dessert if you don’t eat your veggies.” Unfortunately, reasoning of this kind is wasted on dogs who eat sticks, bugs, grass, and all manner of things you wouldn’t think to bribe them with. “Dessert” holds no special meaning to a dog, unless of course, it’s delicious, like zinc oxide.

Third Stage — Bait & Switch

This is where you apply it with your right hand, while you’re doling out love with the left. (Or versa-dextrous.) “Who’s a good girl, standing so still while getting sunscreened?” … scritch, scritch … “Who’s Mommy’s favorite?” … knead, knead … “Who’s getting more attention than my children ever did?” … pat, pat, scritch, scritch

But ultimately, you realize that none of these strategies are really working as you’d like. Which leads us to the

Fourth Stage — Hopeful

It looks like this: dab – lick – dab – lick – this time’ll be different – dab – lick – dab – lick – dab – lick – this time’ll be different – dab – lick.  Repeated until one of you passes out from ennui. Hint. It won’t be the dog.

This is very much an example of “pilling a duck.” What ridiculous things do you do for your pet?

Warning Signs Your Resolutions Will Fail, In The Unlikely Event They Haven’t Already

You didn’t make any
You made more than one
You only made one but it involved dieting or exercise
You broke your own foot to avoid going to the gym
You made the mistake of looking on Pinterest for inspiration and found everyone else had handmade, artisanal resolutions, rendering yours like lopsided cupcakes without a theme
They all included the phrase “winning the lottery”
You posted them on social media and nobody liked, shared, or retweeted them
You made them with a friend
You didn’t make them with a friend
You really, really hate kale, jogging, and/or investing one-third of your paycheck in any scheme that doesn’t involve alcohol and/or dessert
You really, really like alcohol and/or dessert

But that’s no reason to give up.

The Color of Permission

In the novel I was reading this morning, I misread someone’s dress “the color of persimmon” as “the color of permission.” I like that so much better.

It set off a cavalcade of metaphor — not all good, mind you — in my head.

a chair that beckoned your secrets

salami with garlic so strong it hurt your feelings

anticipation that rotated like a pie display

a martini the color of heartache

well-worn sneakers in the shape of recovery

a violin solo melancholy as a September evening

danger that kept coming around like a gas station hot dog, persistant and ominous 

Okay. Your turn!