Barbara Venkataraman's Blog: A Trip on the Mobius Strip, page 32
January 7, 2014
Excerpt from my new book, "The Case of the Killer Divorce"
I'd seen that haunted look before. My name is Jamie Quinn and after ten years of practicing law, I've seen it all. You wouldn't think a sleepy town like Hollywood, Florida would have much drama, but it does. The judge who swore me in had warned me, saying, 'You'll never believe what goes on between four walls,' and he was right; it's unbelievable.
Take my client, Carol (please take her--you'd make me so happy), she and her husband are well-off, successful in their respective careers, and dress like they're posing for a fashion magazine, yet they have screaming matches in front of their kids and pour pitchers of Kool-Aid on each other.
Then there was the vengeful couple--I forget their names--who took turns living in the marital home, escalating the damage to the house each time they switched, just to piss each other off. It started when the husband removed all the light bulbs and fixtures, and ended when the wife took out all the sinks and toilets. I figured they'd wind up killing each other, like Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas in ’The War of the Roses’, but I was wrong. They remarried.
This e-book is available on Amazon Kindle for 99 cents.
Take my client, Carol (please take her--you'd make me so happy), she and her husband are well-off, successful in their respective careers, and dress like they're posing for a fashion magazine, yet they have screaming matches in front of their kids and pour pitchers of Kool-Aid on each other.
Then there was the vengeful couple--I forget their names--who took turns living in the marital home, escalating the damage to the house each time they switched, just to piss each other off. It started when the husband removed all the light bulbs and fixtures, and ended when the wife took out all the sinks and toilets. I figured they'd wind up killing each other, like Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas in ’The War of the Roses’, but I was wrong. They remarried.
This e-book is available on Amazon Kindle for 99 cents.
December 26, 2013
My new Jamie Quinn mystery is free through Jan. 2nd!
"The Case of the Killer Divorce," my second in the Jamie Quinn mystery series, is free through January 2nd. Check it out!
November 28, 2013
November 24, 2013
Death by Didgeridoo
My new book is available on Amazon Kindle, very excited! "Death by Didgeridoo" is a murder mystery, and the first in the Jamie Quinn series. :-D
Reluctant lawyer, Jamie Quinn, still reeling from the death of her mother, is pulled into a game of deception, jealousy, and vengeance when her cousin, Adam, is wrongfully accused of murder. It's up to Jamie to find the real murderer before it's too late. It doesn't help that the victim is a former rock star with more enemies than friends, or that Adam confessed to a murder he didn't commit.
Reluctant lawyer, Jamie Quinn, still reeling from the death of her mother, is pulled into a game of deception, jealousy, and vengeance when her cousin, Adam, is wrongfully accused of murder. It's up to Jamie to find the real murderer before it's too late. It doesn't help that the victim is a former rock star with more enemies than friends, or that Adam confessed to a murder he didn't commit.
November 7, 2013
Help Children in the Arts
THROUGH JANUARY 1, 2014, ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE SALE OF MY BOOKS WILL GO TO BENEFIT CHILDREN IN THE ARTS. THANK-YOU!
October 17, 2013
Indie Book of the Day Award!
I'm very excited to announce that my book, "A Trip to the Hardware Store & Other Calamities" won the Indie Book of the Day Award.
http://indiebookoftheday.com/a-trip-t...
http://indiebookoftheday.com/a-trip-t...
October 7, 2013
ALTERNATE REALITIES
Like the comedian Steven Wright, when I die, I'm leaving my body to science fiction. I feel it's the least I can do after all science fiction has done for me. While I couldn't get enough Harry Potter, I also enjoyed classical science fiction and fantasy: Asimov, Clarke, Tolkien, Herbert, Dick and so many others as a child. It's not that I have anything against reality; I just like to visit alternate worlds in my free time. Only now, as an adult, have I realized the lessons I learned along the way: be loyal to your friends; never lose sight of your goals (no matter how rough it gets); accept cultural diversity; be open to possibilities; and don't assume that if someone spits in your hand, it's an insult. That may be a respectful greeting on a desert planet.
As a native Floridian, I have yet to encounter any desert-dwellers from this or any other planet, but I know I'll be ready. Being in a culturally diverse family myself, I enjoy the cultural mix of my hometown and am at ease speaking with anyone. The ultimate test to my people skills came when I went to India to visit my husband's relatives, many of whom I'd never met before. It was the strangest place I'd ever been and I credit my science fiction background for my quick assimilation. From the food, to the languages, to the throngs of strangely-garbed people, to the monkeys and elephants in the road, India opened my eyes like no National Geographic special ever could. But I found that, whether you are on the planet Dune, in the Shire, or in India, people everywhere want the same things: respect, security, and the ability to provide for their families. And most are quite welcoming to strangers.
There also came a time when I wished I lived some place with low gravity. The day I threw out my back bending over and couldn't get off the floor, I would've paid anything to be weightless and pain-free.
Recently, I found myself in another reality when I volunteered at a low-income elementary school just a few miles away. Whereas my children had a life of comfort and ease, never missing a meal or a dental appointment, these kids lacked the basics: decent clothing, adequate food, and health care. They wanted the same things every kid does, but somehow found themselves living in this alternate reality. I vowed to do what I could to help.
And so, as much as I'd enjoy it, I'm afraid traveling to another dimension will have to wait, because there are people who need me right here.
As a native Floridian, I have yet to encounter any desert-dwellers from this or any other planet, but I know I'll be ready. Being in a culturally diverse family myself, I enjoy the cultural mix of my hometown and am at ease speaking with anyone. The ultimate test to my people skills came when I went to India to visit my husband's relatives, many of whom I'd never met before. It was the strangest place I'd ever been and I credit my science fiction background for my quick assimilation. From the food, to the languages, to the throngs of strangely-garbed people, to the monkeys and elephants in the road, India opened my eyes like no National Geographic special ever could. But I found that, whether you are on the planet Dune, in the Shire, or in India, people everywhere want the same things: respect, security, and the ability to provide for their families. And most are quite welcoming to strangers.
There also came a time when I wished I lived some place with low gravity. The day I threw out my back bending over and couldn't get off the floor, I would've paid anything to be weightless and pain-free.
Recently, I found myself in another reality when I volunteered at a low-income elementary school just a few miles away. Whereas my children had a life of comfort and ease, never missing a meal or a dental appointment, these kids lacked the basics: decent clothing, adequate food, and health care. They wanted the same things every kid does, but somehow found themselves living in this alternate reality. I vowed to do what I could to help.
And so, as much as I'd enjoy it, I'm afraid traveling to another dimension will have to wait, because there are people who need me right here.
September 27, 2013
September 18, 2013
September 13, 2013
MARTHA, I LET YOU DOWN
By no stretch of the imagination could you call me a perfectionist. I'm more like an "imperfectionist" in that I'd rather do several projects that are "good enough" than spend hours getting one thing just right. It's a system that works for me. But last night was an exception…
Every so often, the stars line up and I have a clean house, a well-manicured lawn and a well-stocked fridge all at the same time. It's a Martha Stewart moment for me and I relish it, walking around my house as it radiates with Feng Shui. I was in this Zen-like state last night when a disturbing thought shook me out of my reverie. We had nothing to eat. Oh sure, there were lots of ingredients, but nothing you could call a meal. As much as I hated to mess up my clean kitchen, I knew there was no way out of it, I had to cook--especially since our boys were home from college, they were always hungry.
Since I'd have to clean the kitchen anyway, I decided to make several dishes at once: a vegetable curry for dinner, mini corn muffins for breakfast, and a spinach quiche for whenever. I mixed the muffin ingredients together and spooned the batter into four muffin pans. While I waited for the oven to heat up, I defrosted the frozen spinach in the microwave and started chopping vegetables for the curry.
I have to clear something up at this point. Although my last name is "Venkataraman," you shouldn't assume that I'm Indian. The name came with the guy. And, while I have visited India, I didn't go there to take cooking lessons. Nevertheless, I do enjoy a good curry and can usually follow a recipe.
After I cleaned and chopped my vegetables and shoved all the peels, stems, etc. into the garbage disposal, I lined up my beautiful rainbow of onions, peppers, eggplant, cauliflower and potatoes. Just then, the oven beeped its readiness and I crammed all four muffin pans in at once. The muffins wouldn't take long and soon started to smell delicious. Our two dogs, Abby and Phoebe, were already camped out by the kitchen door, hoping for a sample. They were dreaming if they thought I was going to give them any.
As I heated the oil in the pan for my curry, I poured myself a glass of Merlot--I was sure Martha would've done the same. Then, following my recipe, I poured a tablespoon of mustard seeds into the hot oil and waited for them to pop. I didn't have to wait long before they started popping like popcorn and then hurtling themselves all over the kitchen! I felt hot oil pinging me everywhere at once. I tried to shove the pan to a back burner to make it stop (splashing hot oil in the process), but it was no use. The mini-grenades kept coming at me while I yelled, "Ow! Stop!" as if they cared. Just then, the timer went off for the muffins. Reluctantly, I put down the towel I'd been using to shield my face and sure enough, as I pulled out the first tray of muffins, a hot mustard seed flew into my eye--all the way from the back burner! The sudden shock made me drop the muffins which scattered all over the floor. That was all the invitation Abby and Phoebe needed. They raced into the kitchen like they were in the home stretch of the Kentucky Derby and started slurping up the hot muffins while covering the floor in dog slobber.
I was so busy yelling at the dogs that I didn't see the fire raging on the stove where I had spilled the oil. In a panic, I looked for the fire extinguisher. Was it under the sink or in the garage? The hot mustard seeds were still coming at me as I ducked under the sink. Grabbing the extinguisher, I pulled the pin and swung around, knocking over my glass of merlot and splashing it all over my shirt. After the fire was contained, I took the rest of the muffins out of the oven. They were so burnt, even the dogs wouldn't eat them.
I took a deep breath. What would Martha do? She would try to salvage her shirt, I thought. I turned on the water in the sink to wet the sponge and water started to fill the sink. I flipped on the garbage disposal but, instead of the water draining out, food started shooting up! Apparently, I had overloaded the disposal. I turned off the disposal and walked over to the fridge. I knew there was a bottle of club soda in there somewhere. As I reached inside, I knocked it over. Not thinking, I opened the bottle and club soda sprayed everywhere, like a scene from The Three Stooges. Soaking wet, I sat down on the kitchen floor and started laughing. I heard the front door open and my oldest son came into the kitchen to ask, "What's for dinner, Mom?"
I shook my head as club soda dripped down my face. "We're ordering pizza."
I was sure that's what Martha would have done.
Every so often, the stars line up and I have a clean house, a well-manicured lawn and a well-stocked fridge all at the same time. It's a Martha Stewart moment for me and I relish it, walking around my house as it radiates with Feng Shui. I was in this Zen-like state last night when a disturbing thought shook me out of my reverie. We had nothing to eat. Oh sure, there were lots of ingredients, but nothing you could call a meal. As much as I hated to mess up my clean kitchen, I knew there was no way out of it, I had to cook--especially since our boys were home from college, they were always hungry.
Since I'd have to clean the kitchen anyway, I decided to make several dishes at once: a vegetable curry for dinner, mini corn muffins for breakfast, and a spinach quiche for whenever. I mixed the muffin ingredients together and spooned the batter into four muffin pans. While I waited for the oven to heat up, I defrosted the frozen spinach in the microwave and started chopping vegetables for the curry.
I have to clear something up at this point. Although my last name is "Venkataraman," you shouldn't assume that I'm Indian. The name came with the guy. And, while I have visited India, I didn't go there to take cooking lessons. Nevertheless, I do enjoy a good curry and can usually follow a recipe.
After I cleaned and chopped my vegetables and shoved all the peels, stems, etc. into the garbage disposal, I lined up my beautiful rainbow of onions, peppers, eggplant, cauliflower and potatoes. Just then, the oven beeped its readiness and I crammed all four muffin pans in at once. The muffins wouldn't take long and soon started to smell delicious. Our two dogs, Abby and Phoebe, were already camped out by the kitchen door, hoping for a sample. They were dreaming if they thought I was going to give them any.
As I heated the oil in the pan for my curry, I poured myself a glass of Merlot--I was sure Martha would've done the same. Then, following my recipe, I poured a tablespoon of mustard seeds into the hot oil and waited for them to pop. I didn't have to wait long before they started popping like popcorn and then hurtling themselves all over the kitchen! I felt hot oil pinging me everywhere at once. I tried to shove the pan to a back burner to make it stop (splashing hot oil in the process), but it was no use. The mini-grenades kept coming at me while I yelled, "Ow! Stop!" as if they cared. Just then, the timer went off for the muffins. Reluctantly, I put down the towel I'd been using to shield my face and sure enough, as I pulled out the first tray of muffins, a hot mustard seed flew into my eye--all the way from the back burner! The sudden shock made me drop the muffins which scattered all over the floor. That was all the invitation Abby and Phoebe needed. They raced into the kitchen like they were in the home stretch of the Kentucky Derby and started slurping up the hot muffins while covering the floor in dog slobber.
I was so busy yelling at the dogs that I didn't see the fire raging on the stove where I had spilled the oil. In a panic, I looked for the fire extinguisher. Was it under the sink or in the garage? The hot mustard seeds were still coming at me as I ducked under the sink. Grabbing the extinguisher, I pulled the pin and swung around, knocking over my glass of merlot and splashing it all over my shirt. After the fire was contained, I took the rest of the muffins out of the oven. They were so burnt, even the dogs wouldn't eat them.
I took a deep breath. What would Martha do? She would try to salvage her shirt, I thought. I turned on the water in the sink to wet the sponge and water started to fill the sink. I flipped on the garbage disposal but, instead of the water draining out, food started shooting up! Apparently, I had overloaded the disposal. I turned off the disposal and walked over to the fridge. I knew there was a bottle of club soda in there somewhere. As I reached inside, I knocked it over. Not thinking, I opened the bottle and club soda sprayed everywhere, like a scene from The Three Stooges. Soaking wet, I sat down on the kitchen floor and started laughing. I heard the front door open and my oldest son came into the kitchen to ask, "What's for dinner, Mom?"
I shook my head as club soda dripped down my face. "We're ordering pizza."
I was sure that's what Martha would have done.
A Trip on the Mobius Strip
Whenever I see something funny or weird that you can relate to, I will share it. Anything that will make you smile, or shake your head, or wiggle your ears. I'd like to see that, by the way...
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