Kate Collins's Blog, page 287

Travels with My Brother

By Kate Collins
For the past five years, my brother and sister and I have traveled together to Key West for a long weekend as a memorial to our mother and a way to stay close. We started this tradition shortly after Mom passed away in 2005, and have had such great times re-bonding, we've kept it up. This year, because of extenuating circumstances, my sister wasn't able to go, so it was just my brother and me. 
From comments I've received, many people are surprised we can do this and not kill each other. Many others wish they could do it with their own siblings. And then there are those who wouldn't dream of being in close proximity for even an hour. I feel very sorry for them because they are missing out on a lot of fun and also a lot of healing. 
There are things only siblings understand and share – in-family jokes, childhood trials, tribulations, heartaches, achievements – you name it.  Last year, the three of us laughed so hard while dining at a restaurant that I thought we were going to be asked to leave. What was so funny? Two word mispronunciations. That was it. To an outsider, there is no way that could be so funny. But hearing my brother the minister pronounce Ginko Biloba as Gringo Balboa was enough to have us holding our sides and trying not to hoot with laughter. As you can tell, we share the same love of the absurd.
That is a memory we'll always have and still laugh about when we get together for holidays. We have more stories like that, but I won't bore you with them. You really had to be there.
The benefits to this kind of experience are many. We've learned more things about each other than would ever come out at a family gathering, where we might have five minutes to converse one on one. We've learned how to compromise as adults. You like cinnamon in your coffee and I like hazelnut coffee beans? We can work that out. You stay up late and I'm an early rise? We can work around that. We've shared hurts and apologies, too. I learned my brother had been hurt by something my sister and I said years back. He never mentioned it and we didn't know it. Now was the time to come clean, make amends, and hug. Now that hurt is no longer there.   My hope is by sharing this with you, maybe some of you will be moved to try something similar. It wouldn't have to be a trip. It might be a recurring dinner, or a day in the city to see a play.  Hopefully, you will be so pleasantly surprised that you'll want to make it a tradition, too. 

Are you willing to try? Would your siblings be willing? Or have you already started something similar?

A Survey: What's "Dark" in Mystery Fiction?

by Leann

When I think of a book being "dark," I guess serial killer books come to mind first. Or books where the good guys and the bad guys are hard to tell apart. Or stories where violence is prevalent and murders are described in graphic detail. Or fiction in which children or animals are harmed (hate that).

So I am asking all of you to weigh in. What's dark writing for you? Would you enjoy a cozy where the characters deal with strong emotions and family dysfunction? Is this too "serious" for books like mine? (Of course my books always include plenty of fur friend fun.) I'd love to hear your take and maybe prepare readers for what they might get from me come April 2012. :-)[image error]

Creeping into Christmas

by Lorna Barrett / Lorraine Bartlett / L.L. Bartlett

I love Christmas music and have quite a few CDs.  Yesterday I found myself going through them and sorting them into categories.  Okay, which ones are "safe" to start playing.  The instrumentals, yes.  But which ones?  I have so many, and quite a few of them are similar.

I have a thing for piano Christmas music played in the background.  Just nice, quiet music that isn't overpowering.  So while I was working on the day's word quota (which actually involves decorating for Christmas, so playing Christmas tunes did help to get me in the mood) I had on the first of the piano CDs.  But instead of being in the background I kept noticing how sad, really morose, this piano music was.  Thank goodness I didn't spend a lot on that CD, because it's going back in the drawer.

All of this did not go unnoticed by Mr. L, who is of the opinion that Christmas music should be played ON CHRISTMAS DAY ONLY.  That could be because we have at least one local radio station (the only one he listens to in the car) that plays ONLY Christmas music from Thanksgiving until New Years.  And they don't seem to have as big a Christmas music selection as I have.

The poor man is terrified that for weeks on end he'll be subjected to Dominic the Donkey, I've got a Hippopotamus For Christmas, and maybe worst of all The Chipmunks.  ::Shudder::

Well, isn't my piano music far more preferable than THAT?

What's the first thing you do to get into the holiday season?

What Would You Do?

By Heather Webber / Heather Blake

About a month ago, I made egg salad for lunch. (By the way, I have the perfect recipe for boiling eggs so the shells will come off, no problem, if anyone's interested.)

As I'm the only one in the house who will eat egg salad, I didn't finish all of it. I put the leftovers in a nice Tupperware-type container and stuck it in the fridge.

Where it sat and sat. Weeks.

Long past when I'd ever eat those leftovers.

Long past when I even wanted to take the lid off to wash out the contents.

Therein was the problem. I was scared to wash it out. Scared of what had grown inside the container. Scared of the smell. My goodness, the smell. Can you even imagine?

I could. Which is why that container continued to sit in the fridge.

Until earlier this week when I summoned all my courage, reached in the fridge and pulled it out.

And threw the whole thing in the trash.

Can you blame me?

--

PS: If Mr. W is reading this, I'm totally kidding about throwing away a perfectly good storage container. Yeah, kidding.

Ellery's Mystery Contest

By Ellery Adams
It's that time of the month again - your chance to win a $20 ecard to BN.com, Amazon.com or the book store of your choice (as long as I can send you an ecard).

I'll give you a line or sometimes two from a contemporary cozy and you have six days to email me the title and author at elleryadams@verizon.net.
Please DO NOT POST the answer. You can certainly post a comment, but no title or author name in the comments, okay?
Here's the line: "I got his attention back when I mentioned being a part of the Tarzana Hookers."
Ellery's hint: These talented, crime-solving Hookers appear in a new installment - just released on Nov. 1st. (The book has a gorgeous green cover).

The Perfect Storm

by Deb Baker/Hannah Reed

Last week I was on the east coast, visiting a few places I'd never been before. Rockport. Kennebunkport. Eating lobster every day, rising with the sun to watch the fishermen going out to sea.

Next up was Gloucester, home of the men who died during the perfect storm. Actually labelled that by the National Weather Service. But it was also called the Halloween Storm because it arrived at the end of October. 65 knot winds, 39 foot waves.

I have to stand in awe of the commercial fishermen who deal with one of Mother Nature's most volatile landscapes - the ocean. At Gloucester harbor, I took these pictures - the Fisherman's Memorial and the names of those lost on the Andrea Gail.





And the bar where they hung out.

The men who went out that faithful day weren't real to me until I walked along that harbor, until I stood on the docks watching fishermen going out, coming in, feeling the dampness of the air, the sound of the waves crashing, the vastness of the sea. But they're real to me now. I left with a lump in my throat. I think I'll watch the movie again. And read the book -
The Perfect Storm: A True Story of Men Against the Sea

Pumpkin, Spice, and Everything Rice

by Lucy Arlington

To me, pumpkins have always been things that you scooped out at Hallowe'en and carved funny and scary faces into. Oh, I knew you could eat them, but why go through the bother of cutting one up (they are hard!), baking the pieces and then pureeing them when you can buy a can of pureed pumpkin in the grocery store that works just as well.
But since I moved to Bermuda I've actually cooked with fresh pumpkin, and now I know why you would go through the bother. There's something in the flavour of fresh that seems to get lost when it sits in a can for who knows how long. And really, pumpkins are just a kind of squash and I've never balked at cooking fresh squash!
Bermuda grows delicious pumpkins, and when a friend of mine served me this spiced pumpkin rice I knew I had to try it myself. It is similar to a risotto, but you don't have to stand at the stove and stir, stir, stir for a half hour while making it because you bake it in the oven. (Those of you who have a weakness for creamy risotto will know what I mean.) The coconut milk makes it rich and creamy, and the spices give it an exotic flavour that compliments the pumpkin.

And the recipe is versatile. If you don't want to bother with the pumpkin, you can always use butternut squash instead.
Have you ever cooked with fresh pumpkin?
Spiced Pumpkin Rice
2 C. fresh pumpkin, chopped into ½ inch pieces
1 14 ounce can coconut milk
1 chicken bouillon cube
1 large onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped4 stalks celery,chopped1 inch piece ginger, grated
2 T olive oil
1 1/2 C. uncooked rice
1 T. butter
1/2 t. ground cumin
1/2 t. ground coriander
1/2 t. tumeric1 bay leaf
celery salt, salt and pepper to taste

Cut the pumpkin into very small pieces (1/2 inch cubes). Pour the coconut milk into a large measuring cup. Add enough water to measure 3 cups. Add the bouillon cube, pour into a saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and keep warm.
Saute the pumpkin, onion, celery, garlic and ginger in olive oil in a heavy saucepan until the onion is tender about 8 minutes. Add the rice, butter and spices. Cook over low heat for 2 minutes, stirring to coat the rice well.
Add the heated coconut milk mixture. Cook for 5 minutes. Spoon into a baking dish and bake at 350F for 30 minutes or until the rice is tender. Stir and discard the bay leaf.

From Dark to Light In 30 Days

by Kate Collins
TO CATCH A LEAF comes out this Tuesday, November 1st,which, "coincidentally," would have been my 14th weddinganniversary. I put that in quotes because I don't really believe in coincidencesany longer. Too many things have happened in the past year that were way toomagical to have been sheer coincidence. Anyway, as appalling as it sounds, Iwas so focused on other things – promoting the new book and writing the next,mainly – that until a few weeks ago, the dual significance of that date totallyslipped my mind. Horrible, isn't it?
That aside, I'm ridiculously proud of this book. Mygrief counselor dubbed it, "the book of my depression," although you wouldnever know that now. I'd written a third of it when my husband passed awaysuddenly, and because of the approaching deadline, I had to finish it in ashort amount of time. Somehow, I pushed through my grief and succeeded -- andthought I did a decent job of it – until it came back for revisions. Let me putit this way: My editor gently suggested that the story needed "a little lightening,"when in fact it needed a ginormous sunshine transfusion.
But how was I to do that in a few weeks time when Iwas still reeling? That was when something wondrous happened. My muse tookover. She simply took over my fingers and the words flowed through the keypadand onto the screen. My humor came back. My sense of detail, my characters'voices, my passion for justice, my love of the little flower shop namedBloomers – they all rushed into the dark void inside me. I can't tell youexactly how it happened, only that I allowed myself to open up, to listen to aninner guidance that I call my muse, or my guardian angel, if you will. In fact,if you read it carefully, you'll see a bit of magic she put in herself.
Still, I worried that this book would let down myreaders, that the story wouldn't be up to snuff. Then the first review came in,and I cried. Lori Boness Caswell, at Dollycas's Thoughts blogsite, gave it fivestars and said she wished she could give it ten. More reviews followed – Fresh Fiction,RT, Once Upon a Romance -- and they were all great! What a relief!

I'm really excited about this book, and I truly hopeyou like it. Tuesday would have been a sad day for me, but thanks toProvidence, and my muse, I have reason to celebrate.  

Dream On

by Leann

I have been fortunate to spend the last week on the lake where we hope to build our retirement home. I have never been here in the fall, never visited our good friends' beautiful new home--which is only a thirty second boat ride from our property. If I thought I wanted to get here as quickly as possible before, I am now even more convinced that this place will be my small slice of heaven.

Thought I would first share the dawn--what I will see when I wake up every morning.


The leaves are changing here right now--something I have sorely missed living in subtropical Houston, Texas. The palette is amazing--every shade of red, yellow and orange you can imagine. But I keep returning to the lake view I will have while I sit and write. I must share the few pictures I have taken.




Can you see why I am so anxious to start building on land we've owned for 7 years? And would someone please talk to my husband and tell him to QUIT PROCRASTINATING!!! :-)

Things that go "boop" in the night

by Lorna Barrett / Lorraine Bartlett / L.L. Bartlett

Several nights this week I've been awakened in the dead of night by an annoying "boop!"  Since we turn our heat down at night, and the floors are cold, I wasn't thrilled to get up and investigate where this noise came from the first time I heard it.  (One thing I knew, it wasn't a cute little cartoon character.)

"I'll fall back to sleep any minute now," I told myself.  But every time I almost did -- I'd hear that "boop!" again.

It wasn't the smoke or carbon monoxide detectors--they "chirp."  No, this was an electric "boop."

Finally I couldn't stand it, and figured it had to be one of our cell phones.  Well, since I hardly ever turn mine on, it had to be Mr. L's phone.

It was.

So I searched until I found it across the hall in the guest room.  (That's a pretty noisy "boop!")  Next up, find the charger.  That was in the junk drawer in the kitchen.  Once the thing was plugged in and sucking juice, it was as contented as a newborn with a bottle.

What's awakened you lately?