Judith Post's Blog

Recipes

In chapter 18, Jazzi decides to make sausage rolls for the Sunday family and friends’ meal. Everyone decided to keep the carry-in simple, since Thursday is Thanksgiving. Jerod decided to take a break from the job sites and enjoy a week off, which made Thanksgiving even easier.

I keep a file of recipes that I’ve torn from magazines, and they help me come up with things for Jazzi to make. If I try them, and they’re better than recipes I already have, they go in the file and the old one gets thrown away. It took me a lot of trial and error to make a sausage roll I really liked. Now, I’m done fussing with it. It’s a keeper. My sister, who loves them and has ordered them from lots of different restaurants, told me mine was the best she’s ever had. I’m happy with it.

I have a file for soups, salads, fish, seafood, chicken, beef, Chinese, Mexican, and Italian. It’s fun. I try to make a variety of food, and if I grab a recipe from the file, I have a good chance it will turn out decent. There are some things that are so complicated. I only make them on rare occasions. Thankfully for Jazzi, all she has to make for the holiday is the turkey, gravy, and stuffing….and one pie. Ansel’s voting for a pumpkin roll, and he’s a spoiled man, so he’ll probably get one.

Happy writing, cooking, and reading!

Set Back

The kids came for a visit near the end of September for my birthday. My grandson and his wife brought the baby. HH and I took everyone to an Italian restaurant for supper. I was careful what I ate since dairy’s not my friend. We had a great time, and I felt great. I went to bed the night they left in a wonderful mood. On Monday morning, I woke up and my whole system was out of balance. I couldn’t get up the energy to get off the couch. And I didn’t get better for at least a week. The doctor had given me a new stomach medicine that I love, and since I was taking that, he asked me to just try taking a med that hadn’t agreed with me before. Guess what? It still didn’t agree with me, and after I quit taking it, I started feeling better again. But it builds up in my system, so it’s taking a while.

I never even got back to turn on my computer until a few days ago. I’d missed so many of my friends’ blogs and emails, and they were so out of date, I couldn’t catch up, so I just deleted everything and I’m starting over again. I hope I’m on the road to recovery. And I hope you got a lot more done lately than I have.

In and Out

On Wednesday, our daughter, the nurse, came to stay with us a few days. My sister took us all out to eat on Wednesday night, and then on Thursday, Holly went to pick up my cousin from the nursing home to spend the day with her. They went shopping and out for lunch. Then she left on Friday morning.

Later on Friday night, my grandson is bringing his baby to stay with us a couple of nights. The baby’s five months old and adorable. His wife is coming later on Saturday, and then we’re taking everyone out for supper. We’re going to have duck at a Chinese restaurant and anything else we want. I love duck, but it’s gotten so expensive, it’s only for special occasions.

They’re going to leave after lunch on Sunday, and then HH and I will have the house to ourselves again. We always enjoy seeing the kids, but the next day is about recuperating and taking it easy.

October, so far, looks like it’s going to be an easier month. I’m hoping to get a lot more writing time. Hope the end of September is a joy for you!

Cramped Fingers

I spent my entire writing time yesterday on a three-page chapter. Short. Yes. Too short? I liked the way it turned out, even though it took me forever to write. Jazzi had agreed to meet Melody (Janis’s fellow co-worker and best friend) at Janis’s funeral. Melody dreaded finding herself, standing alone, at the back of the room, while everyone else mixed and mingled. Jazzi didn’t want to go but felt sorry for her.

When Jazzi got there, there were hardly any other attendees. Janis’s father, mother, brother, and sister stood in the receiving line, along with Janis’s wanna be boyfriend. None of them looked welcoming, and they weren’t fond of Jazzi, so she ignored them and went to stand with Melody–standing at the back of the room by herself. Eric, who lived in one of the condos Jazzi, Ansel, and Jerod had converted and who’d worked with Janis, stood in a small group of women from the office who came to pay their respects..

The women had tried to befriend Melody after Janis died, but she was having none of it. Some people are almost impossible to help. Melody was one of them.

I tried to add a few surprises to the funeral scene, and I liked what I came up with. It was a tricky chapter for me to write. I wanted each main character to display his or her true personality in some way. And I tried to add a few surprises to the scene. All in all, I liked what I came up with. It was a tricky chapter for me to write. Two of my friends would have popped it out in an hour or two, but my brain doesn’t work like that. When I finished the scene, and everyone was leaving to go home, I didn’t want to add more to it and dilute it. I hope it works. I’m a reader at my writers’ group tomorrow, and they’ll let me know. They keep me honest.

Piles and piles of paper

The longer I write a series, the more notes I have to go with it–a description of the characters in each book, what project they’re working on, their progress, who got killed, who did it and why. I know a lot of writers put all of their info on the computer, but for whatever reason, I like it written down. I have a box full of notes for each book in the Jazzi series.

I’ve written some books outside of the series, though, And I have boxes of notes on those. The two Karnie Cleaver mysteries had a lot of regular characters, since the family all worked together to run the butcher shop. Each character, even the regular customers who walked into the shop, has a page of notes. Half a box full. The upper part of that box is filled with info for Laurel and Nick. There are a lot of suspects in those books, and I like them to be rounded out, so that when Laurel and Nick dig deep into their backgrounds and lives, there’s plenty of interest.

Then there’s two books for Lux and Keon. Their plots weren’t as complicated, more lightweight and fun. So, my notes are skimpier for them. And so far, I’ve only written one Ghost and Loretta book, but I want to write another one. I’ve thought of a way to bring Harrison back to detecting again, and I like it. And finally, I even keep notes on the short story series I write for my blog–the Speed and Noira stories. Which adds up to, boxes and stacks of papers and notes. Not the most efficient way to keep track of novels, but it works for me. I’m sure something different works for you. To whatever keeps you motivated and organized! Happy writing!

Try, Try Again

I’ve been trying my best to get back on schedule, but it’s really been hit and miss. If I have a bad night, where I’m up and down a lot, I sleep in and lose my writing time in the morning. I’ve had more doctor appointments than usual but no complaints. I’m getting better all the time. More people have called than usual, and more people have come to visit. Always fun. Together, though, it makes it really hard to get a consistent writing routine. But I’m getting there, just in a hodgepodge, hit-and-miss sort of way.

I went back to Scribes again last Wednesday and signed up as a reader for the next meeting. That means I have to have something new to read. That should light a fire under me. I’ve been writing a long time, but I still value my friends’ comments on my work. Getting together with them always recharges my batteries and makes me want to write more. It’s fun just being around them and talking shop.

I’m still trying to find more time to read. HH and I used to turn off the TV at ten, and we’d both read. Now, if I turn off the TV, I fall asleep. I have friends’ manuscripts to look at and books I’m dying to try on my Kindle. I’ll figure out a way to do it.

All in all, I must be feeling better because I’m fussing more about what I want to get to and can’t. HH says that’s a sure sign I”m on the mend.

Fighting Fleas

We have an indoor cat, so we usually don’t have to worry about fleas. Not true this year. Maybe it’s because we’ve been feeding a stray cat outside. He rushed into the house one day but then turned around and went right back out. To play it safe, we put flea drops on the stray and on Dutchy, but we’re still are battling fleas.

We’ve sprayed and swept so many times, we keep thinking we have to have killed them all, but they’re tough to beat. We haven’t seen any for a few days, but if we do, the next step is flea bombs.

Our cat has turned weird since he got fleas. He crouches low to the ground and runs upstairs to hide in a corner under a bed. We don’t see him all day long. Sometimes, we don’t see him until after we go to bed. Then he comes into our room and meows for us to get up and feed him. He purrs and wants to be petted.

HH always gets up at about 3:30 every morning to have a bowl of cereal and milk. The cat sits next to him, and HH gives him milk, then pets and pets him. But when we get up to start the morning, he wants more cat food and then races back upstairs to hide. We’ve tried calling for him during the day, but he never comes. It’s just plain odd, and I hope he gets normal again soon.

We’re starting to think that maybe he had a small stroke or maybe dementia. He was a stray, and we’ve had him a long time. We’re going to hang in there longer and hope he gets better.

My Characters Deserve a Hug

I’m back hitting the keys on Jazzi and Ansel. I’ve been away long enough, I worried if I’d remember the little nuances, the subtleties that underly certain scenes. The big stuff I know. They’ve been stuck in my head a long time, but tone and mood seep in while I’m writing.

When I sat down to work on my pages, though, it’s as if my characters had just been hanging out, waiting for me to get back to tell their story. Jazzi, Ansel, and Jerod are close to finishing the last two condos on the third floor of the old tea house downtown. Once those are finished, it’s time to move on to the box containers they bought to convert into houses. All three of them are a little nervous about that project. They’ve read and watched videos about how to do it, but that’s not the same as cutting steel to install a window or door. In the book, next Thursday is Thanksgiving, and everyone’s carrying in food to Jazzi’s, so they decide it’s the perfect time for a short break, and then they’ll start work on the containers the Monday after the holiday.

That means this Friday will be the last cooking session with Franny. She, Jerod, and the kids have been bringing a soup pot and a Dutch oven to Jazzi’s house every Friday so that Jazzi can teach her how to cook. But the holidays are approaching, and everyone will be busy, so it’s time to call the lessons off. For their last time, Franny has asked how to cook salmon. She loves it but is intimidated by it. No need to be. It’s easy, but Jazzi has planned three ways to make it. This Friday will be fun.

I get to write that scene tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to it. Happy writing, reading, and cooking to you, too!

Dour

In season 12’s version of Hercule Poirot’s Murder on the Orient Express, the acting was wonderful. It was a great show except for how someone decided to portray Poirot. The camera kept zooming in on him while he looked grumpy and grim, brooding almost constantly. A director or producer must have decided that Poirot’s older now. He’s solved so many murders, he’s become judgmental and more religious. He flies into tirades, shouting at people and pontificating about Justice. I honestly got really tired of him.

Nowhere in sight was the Poirot I enjoy so much. No sly twinkle in his eye and knowing smile. No humor. No subtlety. He’s taken a harsh view of crimes. If you commit one, for whatever reason, you deserve to be punished. He butts heads with one of the suspects who differs with him. Sometimes, justice is above the law. They debate off and on until near the end of the show, Poirot expands his views and becomes a little more like the Poirot in earlier seasons.

Somewhere along the line, Poirot moved to a new apartment and lost Miss Lemon and Hastings. I miss them. They brought out the human side of their friend. For that reason, I skipped the episode after Orient Express and went to one where he’s with Ariadne Oliver, the famous mystery writer who eats lots and lots of apples–(a nod to Agatha Christie). Mrs. Oliver brings a touch of humor to Poirot, too.

HH and I are close to the last show of the last season. I hope Poirot is more like himself to finish it out.

24/7

The kids came this weekend for a barbecue picnic. They stayed from Friday to Sunday, and our grandson and his wife brought their four-month-old baby and their black lab. Our daughter, who can hardly keep her hands off the baby, came, too, with our younger grandson. We had a wonderful time. But I forgot how much work a baby is at that age.

Clark is a sociable, observant, little guy. He’s adorable. But he was in a house bustling with people and comings and goings. Trying to keep him on his regular routine was impossible. Too much was going on. Tired babies get fussy. Then his dad tried to take him on walks to help him sleep. Sometimes, they worked. Sometimes, they didn’t. He fell asleep on me when I rocked him and jiggled him in the recliner, but the minute Ty tried to put him in his portable bed, he woke up, so the next time I just held him so he’d get a forty-five minute nap. He was even too distracted to nurse for very long. He’d hear something and turn to see what was happening.

Everyone chipped in to keep him happy, and it all worked out. But it made me remember days centered around babies and nights with little sleep. I slept through the fussing after I crashed in bed, but it reminded me that even sweet-tempered babies are a lot of work. And even more joy.