-
Recent Posts
Buy Murder on the Last Frontier–Charlotte Brody Mystery #1
Buy Borrowing Death–Charlotte Brody Mystery #2
Buy Murder on Location–Charlotte Brody Mystery #3
Buy Rulebreaker!
Buy Caught in Amber!
Buy Deep Deception!
Friends
Archive
Categories
Author Archives: Cathy
Another Day, Another WIP
I recently began the submission process with my latest and greatest (ha!) work, and in an effort to keep producing while trying to not think about my story sitting in agents’ query In boxes, I’ve begun another piece. Well, sort of.
I started one about dragon shapeshifters, changed the plot/conflict on that, and then got busy with Thanksgiving. I promised myself I’d get back to it, but in the meantime, a story idea for a character from the above mentioned work popped into my wee head. I fiddled with that over the weekend, even going so far as to write out some character sketches and a synopsis. A nearly complete, 8 handwritten pages synopsis! Much more organized than I usually work, but I’m hoping to get this one written in a shorter time than my other books. Why? To see if I can. And I think I can.
Though I have yet to write much of the manuscript itself, I have a first scene. Maybe. Most of that was to get into my heroine’s head. She’s a former drug addict trying to go straight when she’s approached by the hero to help him save his younger sister from the same drug dealing bad guy the heroine had been with years before. Not necessarily an original plot, but as we all know, it’s all in the execution. The story could be set in any time period, any place. I’m pulling the hero from my latest and greatest (ha!), a futuristic/SF setting on another planet. It’s a world that I’d like to explore some more, so there you go.
I don’t know how much I’ll get written during the holiday season, but I have a couple of long plane rides coming up and my children are old enough not to require constant monitoring while we fly. I should put a pretty good dent in it. Or in the shapeshifter story if that one gels a bit more. Either way, as long as the ideas flow, the writing never really stops, does it? And thank goodness for that.
Going Postal
(Phone rings)
Me: Hello?
HP: Hi, this is HP customer service. We recently received an order for a laptop and want to confirm shipping information.
Me (snickering to self): Yes?
HP: We have here a delivery address of (reads off our post office box), and a physical address of (reads our house addy).
Me: Yes, that’s correct. The laptop needs to be shipped to the post office or it won’t get to us.
HP (after a few moments of silence): It won’t?
Me: No. We don’t have home delivery here.
HP (after another few moments of silence): You don’t? At all?
Me: No. If it’s coming via UPS or FedEx, it will go from Anchorage to here through the post office anyway. Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll get it.
HP: Um, okay. If you’re sure. Thank you. (hangs up)
I’m sure. Really.
Let me explain a little something about small town living. At least living in THIS small town. We have a very nice post office, with very kind and helpful postal employees. Everyone in town has a PO box. Everyone. Want to look in the phone book to find the physical location of a resident or business? Not gonna happen. All you’ll see is a PO box listing. You’ll have to call the place to get instructions. Granted, most businesses are within a four block area and not hard to find, but some are tucked into buildings and have no obvious signs. Locals just “know” where to go. It’s very quaint. And a tad frustrating when you’re new in town. It’s like you have to be told the secret handshake or something. Luckily, we’ve been here long enough that we’ve become privy to the majority of hot locales. If you consider the lumber yard and laundromat “hot.”
A number of years ago there was a community-wide vote regarding the US Postal Service and home delivery. An overwhelming majority voted down home delivery. (The postman doesn’t ring at all here, let alone twice.) Why? Because like in most small towns, certain public places become the local equivalent of nature’s watering holes. Grocery stores, gas stations, post offices, eventually most everyone hits these places because they have to. And want to. It gives people an excuse to get out and about on an almost daily basis. Or at least weekly.
Oh, and even if I were to tell you the name of my street, good luck finding it. There is no street sign and even locals have asked where, exactly, we live. If you come visit, I’ll give you the secret handshake 😉
Liam’s Gold by Jody Wallace
My pal Jody’s newest release, Liam’s Gold, is out now from Samhain Publishing. Never before had I considered leprechauns sexy, but take a look at that cover. Yum!
So get thee to Jody’s site to read an excerpt and/or click on over to Samhain and buy the book. It’s a shorter read, but packed with good stuff. Then again, ALL of Jody’s stuff is good : )
Now Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Program
With the World Series and the presidential campaign FINALLY over, I can go back to mindless, uninterrupted-except-for-normal-commercials television watching. Thank goodness!
Is it just me, or does the baseball season seem to take longer and longer each year? Why do they need to play over 100 games and then go through two rounds of best of five playoffs? And the World Series itself is best of seven! What the hell is that all about? Maybe I’m just too much of a football fan. Regular season of 16 games, and you get to play others in your division once in your house and once in theirs. Period. Playoffs? Lose and you’re out. Period. Let’s move on to THE big game. End of season, except for the Pro Bowl for those who aren’t too banged up.
As for the presidential election, the whole sorting out who’s running and the primary thing shouldn’t start until the year of the election. Seriously. No declaring your candidacy until January 1st of the election year. Not two years before. And then you have 6 months to win your party’s nomination. Period. With the travel options and technology available today, candidates shouldn’t need more than that. And while this plan may cut into running mate vetting time (down to one quick phone call instead of an hour face-to-face interview, maybe?), I think it will also tell us how organized a candidate is, how well they think on their feet.
So, shorten the baseball and campaign seasons. And give us back our mindless entertainment. Oh, wait, I said the campaigning was over, didn’t I?
Be Careful What You Wish For
A couple posts ago, I mentioned how I’d rather have it cold versus rainy here in the Alaska Banana Belt. While I didn’t lie about that, I also didn’t mean to have it so freakin’ cold RIGHT NOW!
For the past few days it’s been below freezing. And not just hovering at the 32/0 degree mark. It was in the mid teens this morning, as it was yesterday morning. Brrrr! Even the more adventurous of our cats decided she’d rather stay in and annoy a dog by cuddling up to it. Can’t blame you, kitty. A “three dog night” has real meaning here, but my dogs are not allowed on the bed. So we get a two kitty night. Not the same. Less heat, more clinging to the edge. (How is it that two cats of 8 and 11 pounds can take up more space than a full grown human adult?)
Also, my poor, hoary (as opposed to whor–nevermind) minivan is not happy about starting in such weather. Plug-in or no.
It will be a chilly Halloween here in the Frozen North–a term I used in a somewhat joking manner until now. I’ll have to remind the kids to let the Laffy Taffy get to room temperature before digging in. Or that crack we’ll hear as they bite down will be the sound of the dentist getting a new snow machine.
Oh, on a side note, this is my 100th post : ) Do I get a present or anything? No? Okay, just asking.
Love Means Having to Say You’re Sorry
Despite Erich Segal’s famous line, love does mean having to say you’re sorry. Not just for the big things, but for the smaller ones. Without a doubt, a monumental screw up (ie: adultery, financial ruin, arson…you get the idea) requires an apology. But what about the little things? Those seemingly small incidents that can be blown off yet still hurt. I think a festering or a build up of small insults that don’t get resolved are as damaging as a big issue. Perhaps more so. And we’re more apt to apologize to a perfect stranger for bumping into them than to apologize to our loved ones for taking the last slice of pizza or not doing the dishes.
In books, it’s the big things that make an exciting read–adultery, murder, theft. Sure, there are stories about little screw ups, but that’s more “literary” fodder : ) Most of real life (or at least MY real life) is made up of little episodes, both good and bad. Fewer of us have to deal with the aftermath of major mistakes. But we must contend with all those little ones we inflict or receive.
Standing at the bus stop this rainy, chilled morning, I chided my youngest child for not having zipped her backpack. As I zipped it for her, I noticed her homework folder wasn’t inside. She is notorious for just dropping the folder near her pack without actually putting it inside. So I got upset because unless I brought her homework in to her she’d get points off for it being late. Yeah, some of you may think I should have just let her take the hit to learn her lesson about being responsible, but that’s for another post. Instead, I told her I’d bring her the folder today but never again. She was upset that I was upset and promised to be better prepared. The bus arrived and I said I’d be along at school soon.
I trudged back up the hill to the house and searched for the folder. And couldn’t find it. Crap. The car was already warming up so I figured I’d run in and let her know I couldn’t find the darn thing. She and her sister were in the cafeteria with a slew of other kids waiting for the bell to start the day. And there, beside her, was her folder.
“It was bent over in my backpack,” she said.
I felt horrible for having gotten mad. “I should have double checked. I’m sorry.”
Her little face lit up at my apology. She’d been more upset at my reaction than I’d realized. I told her and her sister I loved them, to have a good day, and I’d see them after school.
I have no problem letting my children know I make mistakes. I want them to realize that no one is perfect. That when you screw up, you apologize whether it’s a big thing or a little thing, and try not to repeat the same mistake twice.
Will my getting upset at her scar her for life? I doubt it. But I hope my willingness to admit my mistake and apologize for it will make an impression. Will I screw up again? Probably, but hopefully it’ll be over something different. And I’ll apologize again.
Termination Dust
No, it’s not a new, lethal drug. Here in the North, depending on which latitude you reside, seasons are measured by days (summer) or in six-eight month increments (guess which season that is), there is one thing we all agree upon: Termination dust.
We got ours two weeks ago. Though the day was reasonable (ie: not too rainy and in the mid 40’s) I noticed the mountain tops around us dusted with snow. The mountains being colder, of course, meant the snow was here to stay until late spring. The temperature dropped over the next week or so at my house, mid to upper 30’s in the evening and first thing in the morning. It would warm up as the day progressed, but there was the white specter of winter all around us. Each day, the snow line dropped. Lower. And lower.
As I drove to work yesterday, it started to rain. Thick rain. Rain that hit with a thud but quickly liquefied against the heater-warmed windshield. A teasing rain, reminding me that soon I would need to wear my warm boots and carry my indoor shoes to work. That the tires on the vehicles needed to be changed over to the studded versions. That I’ll be knee-deep in the white stuff sooner than I desire.
But I don’t mourn the loss of summer. You can’t mourn what you never had. I can hope the winter holds off for a bit longer, but that means more rain. I’d rather have cold weather, even if it means snow.
Snow is fun. You can make things, throw it about, ski, sled, snowshoe. You can send your kids out in it and they’ll stay outside enjoying themselves. Do that during a downpour and all you get is cold, wet, cranky kids. When they come inside after playing in the snow, they may be damp and chilled, but their little cheeks are rosy and they’re happy. We like happy.
Perhaps we should see termination dust as a positive thing. An end to the unreliable summer and fall weather. With the arrival of snow, we know what we’ll be getting for the next six to eight months. In these uncertain times, isn’t it nice to know you can count on something?
Light Another Candle and Step Back!
Today is my birthday! I got to sleep in, sort of. My youngest served me toast in bed before I was fully awake. Then she delivered a slew of presents she’d been secretly wrapping in hand-decorated dot matrix printer paper (the kind with the holes on the sides and each sheet is attached to the next…yeah, we have a box of the stuff). She gave me one of her favorite stuffed animals and some change. You can’t go wrong with a cash gift, I say. My oldest gave me a cute stuffed bear dressed in Native clothing. Apparently you’re never too old to receive stuffed animals : ) DH left a bouquet of flowers on my car seat yesterday, where it was parked at the school (I subbed for a second grade teacher) along with a note asking for the check book. No, not for a gift, but to get a US Forest Service wood cutting permit. Thanks, dear! Just what I always wanted!
It’s been a great day and can only get better.
Oh, and go on over to my AT3 pal and “twin” Meretta Pater’s blog to wish her a Happy Birthday too.
Seriously?
I’ve read a couple things in the past week that made me laugh out loud and shake my head simultaneously. Talk about whiplash!
Item #1: Do You Expect Me to Buy This?
While perusing a clothing/accessory/general items catalog sent from a certain organization where a girl may scout out interests in a number of activities, I came across a page where uniform items were being displayed. In a bright yellow box near the description it read that as of October, along with the uniform vest or sash, a girl is required (my emphasis) to wear a white shirt and khaki pants (or skirt, I think) when representing the organization in an official capacity. OK, that’s fine. On the very next page, the clothing offered was more casual tee-shirts and such. One of the shirts for sale proudly displayed this message: Defy Conformity. Unless they say so, I guess.
Item #2: Only in Alaska
One of our U.S. senators is being investigated for allegedly accepting gifts of great monetary value without reporting them. The big ticket is work/renovations on the senator’s house that comes to major bucks. But in today’s paper the investigators came up with a few more gifts the senator supposedly received, including a massage chair($2,600), a custom stained glass window($3,200), and a sled dog($1,000). Yes, a sled dog can be worth $1,000 or more, depending on the bloodline. Can you imagine any other state in the union where this could happen? Me neither.
I love this state.
Empty House, Full Mind, Attention Span of a Gnat
School started a couple of weeks ago, so the kids are gone from 8am to 4pm. DH left this morning for a three week research cruise out of San Diego. I’m in my very quiet bedroom/office listening to one of the dogs snoring and listening for the cat who escaped last night and has yet to return. Stupid cat.
With all this quiet, I’m excited about getting some work done. I have a manuscript that needs revising, and will get revised and submitted if *ahem* I can get my crit partners to return the parts I sent to them. I have another that was put on hold and needs finishing, and still more ideas jostling for attention in my wee head.
The hardest thing about having all this quiet, all this “me” time, is actually focusing on the task at hand. Yes, I know. Poor me. All this time during the day, no kids interrupting, and my biggest distraction is my own brain. At least it’s doing *something*.
I’m better than I used to be about managing my time. Often, I even get housework done. Well, perhaps “often” is a bit of an overstatement. But it gets done. Eventually. And my kids never go to school wearing dirty clothes.
So my job, when I’m not called in to substitute at the school, is to keep myself on track. Wish me luck. Look! Something shiny!!! Just kidding : )