Poisoned Pen Letters

Update

2009-03-13T15:53:00.003-05:00

I have cut back on the blogging to concentrate more on my fiction, but I wanted to drop in and let you know there are new books in the works: LEADER OF THE PACK will be out in July of this year, and I recently agreed to write the fourth Gray Whale Inn mystery, which will be out in 2010 (I don't know when). I'm also working on a number of other projects, which have been taking much of my time. I'll post updates on the web site when I have them.

Although I am not currently blogging, I am, however, on both MySpace and Facebook, so please visit me there!

Cheers,
Karen

Release dates

2008-07-07T11:55:00.003-05:00

Hi, everyone!

I've been writing and traveling, but just got a spate of e-mails asking for release dates, so I thought I might stop by and give an official update. (My web designer will be updating the web site soon.)

MURDER MOST MAINE and ON THE PROWL are both scheduled for release this November, and both are available for pre-order on Barnes and Noble's online site and on Amazon. I just finished the third in the Urban Werewolf trilogy just last week; it will probably be out next summer, and the working title is now LEADER OF THE PACK. I am now taking a few weeks to relax and think about my next projects, but will be at RWA in San Francisco at the end of the month -- hope to see some of you there!

As far as the KUT interview is concerned, it was a news spot about the Agents and Editors conference in Austin, and I talked a bit about the whole agent-finding process; to hear it, you can go here.

Hope everyone had a happy 4th -- I am visiting my sister in Washington, D.C. and plan to visit my old townhouse in Old Town Alexandria tonight, which should be fun -- and that you're having a relaxing summer!

KUT Interview tomorrow!

2008-06-17T18:27:00.003-05:00

I just found out I'll be interviewed for KUT 90.5 tomorrow, in association with the upcoming Agents and Editors conference... it'll be a taped interview, and I don't know when they'll be running it, but as soon as I find out, I'll let you know. What a lovely surprise.

Oh -- and I'll be presenting Sunday morning at the conference, on one of my favorite topics: "Where do I go from here?" Query letters, new projects, and submissions... oh, my!

Hope all is well with you. I'm doing minor revisions on MURDER MOST MAINE, which is on schedule for November publication, reviewing page proofs for ON THE PROWL, which is also on schedule for November publication, and finishing revisions on the third TALES book.

And thinking of new projects. I'm letting my mind range, and finding I'm interested in all kinds of topics -- and reading fairy tales, of all things. We'll see what happens next!

Cheers, and I'll be back soon...

It occurred to me...

2008-06-05T22:45:00.002-05:00

as I was buying yet another book labeled "Coming Soon as a Major Motion Picture!"

Have you ever heard of a minor motion picture?

The between-book blues

2008-06-04T18:48:00.002-05:00

After a month (actually, five months) of intense work, I turned in the third GWI mystery, Murder Most Maine, on deadline (Monday). I then spent the rest of the day relaxing. (Of course, the page proofs for On the Prowl arrived Tuesday, so that ended quickly.) And although I still have to clean up the third book of the Tales trilogy by the end of this month, I'm taking a two-week break from all my projects... and am already feeling that angsty in-between-book feeling.

It's not like I don't have anything to write. I have plenty of options -- both in existing series and elsewhere -- but after spending a few years in the company of Natalie the innkeeper and Sophie the werewolf, I'm in the mood to step out and try something a little different. I even have a character in mind, and a chunk of story that's appealing to me. But it means creating a whole different world, and pushing myself by using a slightly different voice.

Just for fun, and to break from my habitual writing style, I pulled out an old composition notebook and the only pen I could find (which happened to be a rollerball with silvery-turquoise ink -- it must belong to my daughter) and started writing. And the jolt worked, even if it's virtually impossible to see the ink once it dries. You have to hold it at a certain angle, you see, or it vanishes.

But the change of venue -- writing on lined paper, not the computer, and with weird ink -- seems to be helping. Robin Hobb, when she changed writing styles, took a pen name -- and says it gave her greater freedom on the page. Isn't it interesting how these little mental tricks can help change course?

Of course, it's early days, and we'll see what happens; it may be a false start, but it's too soon to tell.

It's funny, though. I was going to give myself a two-week total hiatus, and seem to be incapable of doing it. I cannot not write. Which I suppose is better than the alternative.

Now all I need is a name for my character...

RIP iBook... and On the Prowl

2008-05-26T10:36:00.008-05:00

I knew it would happen eventually, and I suspected it might happen at a crucial time... but I didn't guess exactly how crucial. Late last week, ten days before a big deadline, my trusty little computer finally went belly-up.

I was hoping it would hold out a while longer -- at least until I got my deadlines taken care of. Alas, I must have somehow displeased the computer gods.

After a big day of writing, I 'slept' it on Thursday afternoon. Imagine my dismay when it wouldn't come back on after forty minutes of hammering at the restart button! Then, when it finally did, it wouldn't stay on long enough for me to e-mail my working files!

Can you say sweaty palms? :)

After twenty minutes of muttering oaths and prayers, I managed to bring it back to life long enough to e-mail my crucial files before it gave its final death rattle. I didn't lose anything, but since I didn't have time to ship the thing to California to fix it, I ended up spending more money than I care to think about on a new computer. On the plus side, this one has all twenty-six letters on the keyboard and backs itself up automatically. Which means I can stop e-mailing huge documents to my nearest and dearest every other day. :)

Anyway, now that my computer travails are over, I'm back on the home stretch of Murder Most Maine. I'm just taking a break from revisions to pop in -- and to post the cover that Sarab so kindly mentioned was already on Amazon.

Hope you're having a great Memorial Day weekend, and I'll be back soon!

Murder Most Maine!

2008-05-14T09:44:00.006-05:00

Greetings from your favorite vanishing blogger! (In case you're wondering where I've been, scroll down to my last post.)

I'm happy to report that after several weeks of more or less constant work, I'm on the home stretch of Murder Most Maine, the third book in the Gray Whale Inn series, and Running with the Pack, the third book in the Tales of an Urban Werewolf series, is finished. Save for revisions, that is.

I was going to post both covers today (I got both of them last week), but the colors keep coming up reversed for On the Prowl, so it'll have to wait until tomorrow (hubby says he can fix it tonight). Here, however, is the cover of Murder Most Maine -- complete with a lighthouse, which I got to incorporate into the plot this time. There's a story behind this cover that I will share at some point, incidentally, but not just yet. Maybe once the book is out, and I'm celebrating with too much champagne...

On a completely different note, I was noticing yesterday that many of the letters on my keyboard seem to be vanishing. (Perhaps this is connected to my work schedule of the past six weeks.) So far I've lost A, S, D, C, L, and half of M. The benefit of this is that my children are less inclined to 'borrow' my computer, as it's hard to type when you can't find almost 25% of the alphabet. But I do worry that perhaps I've worn out something on the inside, as well. The question is, should I replace the laptop before it crashes? Or keep backing it up and pray that it won't die at a crucial point?

Like, say, the next two weeks?

Okay, back to the salt mines. I hope all is well with you and your writing, and as soon as I get the color issue resolved, I'll post the cover of Running with the Pack here! (And get the contest winner up on the web site, which I've been meaning to do, but haven't had time. Everything's kind of gone on hold while I get my work done.)

I don't know about you, but I'm really looking forward to summer vacation!

Ack!

2008-04-09T12:00:00.003-05:00

Nothing like discovering you have two books (only one of which is finished) scheduled for release in seven months to get those creative juices running!

Gulp.

I just found Murder Most Maine on Amazon yesterday. I thought it would be out in 2009, but evidently I was incorrect in that assumption.

Off to the word processing program now...

Writing and risk-taking

2008-04-03T08:56:00.001-05:00

So I’m teaching my bi-annual writing class on Monday nights this month, and as I see the apprehensive/excited faces behind the desks each evening, I realize again what an act of courage it is (and it is) every time a writer sits down to commit an act of prose. (Or poetry, or whatever it is you’re perpetrating.)

I used to think it got easier as it went along. And on some levels, it does; I’ve written over 2,000 pages of fiction at this point, so I’m pretty comfortable that when I tell my subconscious to come up with something I can transfer to paper, it will. But it still isn’t exactly a walk in the park.

When you are working on an established series, you have the benefit of a pre-created world and characters who have been developed in earlier books, which definitely helps. But there’s still a lot of work to be done; each plot needs to be fresh, and as Susan Wittig Albert discussed last week, characters can’t stay static — they grow and change with time.

On the other hand, when you break from an established series, especially one that’s well-liked, it’s exciting, but also a bit stress-inducing. Particularly if your new work is in a different style, and deals with a completely different subject. (Say, sassy and filled with werewolves instead of cozy and chock-full of coffee cakes.)

Since I committed myself to writing a trilogy that would be more than 2/3 complete before the first book hit the stands, I am particularly aware of the risks of jumping off in a new direction. (And the direction changed more than once after I jumped off, to be honest — for one thing, HOWLING was originally sold as a light werewolf mystery, but the editor decided to publish it as romance once the trilogy was well underway.) And it has been tough going this last several months, as I learned my way around a new genre and went through multiple editor changes — and waited for the first reviews to hit. (Thank goodness they were good.)

But even if things had gone the other way, and my work hadn’t been well received, I’m still glad I took the risk.

Because I think the most important thing as a writer — no matter where you are in the process — is to have faith in yourself, and to allow your creativity to go in whatever strange direction it chooses. Even if it does end up in places you never thought you’d go. Because you know what? There’s something magical that happens when the brain switches off and your fingers fly across the keyboard of their own accord. Characters come to life, plots veer off in unexpected — and sometimes rather unwelcome — directions, and sparks of new ideas flare up when you’re least looking for them.

And even if you screw up, you still learn something.

Writing is a risk. There is always the possibility that you’re the only one who will see the magic in what you’ve written. (Or, the day after, the absolute lack thereof — then again, we as writers are notoriously bad at judging our own work, so you never know.)

The key, however, is keeping that creative flame alive. Because that’s why we keep coming back to it, day after day after day.

So, for those of you out there who have been putting off writing a book for years out of fear it will never get published, or have a book you’ve never gotten around to finishing because it’s too hard, or have a steamy romance in mind that your afraid your grandmother will excommunicate you for (been there, done that, by the way), my advice is: Do it anyway. Take the risk.

Because that’s what this crazy business is all about.

Happy Thursday!

2008-03-27T12:44:00.002-05:00

Hi, everyone!

I'm taking a quick break from writing to let you know that Susan Wittig Albert's guest post is up on the Cozy Chicks today... so drop by and check it out. And if you'll be in Round Rock this Saturday, I'll be at Barnes and Noble at La Frontera from 2 to 4... feel free to stop by and say hi.

It's springtime here, and I'm experiencing a real burst of creativity, so I've spent the last several days riding the wave and working on the two books I have due this summer. I'm hoping to get finished before school lets out for the summer; I've already booked my trip to Maine, and am looking forward to some R&R. But the weather here is lovely now, so despite my rather aggressive writing goals, I did escape for a walk this morning -- the peach trees are in full bloom on the trail, the redbuds are already dropping their fuchsia blossoms, and it's time to get my tomatoes in. Summer will be here before I know it!

Okay, back to the werewolves... I'm on a roll today, and I don't want to lose momentum!

Karen

A few things I wanted to mention

2008-03-18T11:13:00.007-05:00

Hi, everyone!

For the first time in two weeks, I am not sick. Hallelujah. And even better... the kids are back in school!

Since I've been off for a while, I'm going to make this brief so I can focus on my current novel. But I wanted to stop by and mention a couple of important items.

First, I'll be signing at the Westlake Barnes and Noble in Austin this Saturday from 2 to 4, so please feel free to stop by and see me! And Kimberly Swan of Darque Reviews just posted a review of Howling... and an interview with yours truly. Blogger Amberkatze also posted a review... she blogs from Vienna (lucky dog) and reviews lots of great books, so if you love paranormals, you should definitely check it out.

I also wanted to let everyone know that Susan Wittig Albert will be guest-blogging on Cozy Chicks Thursday, March 27 -- she'll be talking about how she created the inimitable China Bayles. I'll be posting more about that this Thursday on Cozy Chicks.

On a final note, if you're interested in taking a writing class from me, I'll be teaching one at U.T. Informal Classes at the end of this month. I hope to see you there!

Oh -- and perhaps most importantly -- I have not killed any family pets this week. So things are definitely looking up.

Cheers, and hope you're having a great week!

Strep throat, politics... and Firetruck

2008-03-06T13:18:00.002-06:00

So I got my annual March bug last week -- usually it holds out for Spring Break, but I guess since we have no big plans this year, it decided to arrive early -- in the form of Strep Throat. I was only out for two or three days, but the timing could have been better.

I got sick Saturday night, you see, and Tuesday was the day of the primaries here in Texas. Which is not ideal if you're trying desperately to sleep so you can stop feeling like you're the bottom of someone's shoe. The bottom of a marathoner's shoe, actually. A marathoner's shoe on a track frequented by cattle suffering from gastrointestinal distress.

But I digress.

Anyway, that stupid thing rang SIXTEEN times on Monday. By four o'clock, I was huddled in bed with the covers around my ears raving to whoever would listen (not the recorded voices on the phone, alas) that if they called again, I'd start actively campaigning AGAINST all three candidates.

It didn't help.

Speaking of campaigns, I was thinking the other day how proud I am to be an American. Why? Because regardless of how you feel about them politically or personally, two of the three people currently running for the top political office would at some point in our country's history -- including, in one case, the first two decades of the twentieth century -- not have been ALLOWED to vote.

Wow.

Isn't it encouraging how far we've come?

Well, that's my pithy thought for the day. On yet another note -- I'm rather ADD today, aren't I? -- I've loved reading your comments on Firetruck's mishap last week. I plan to respond to them tonight -- but feel obligated to share the sad news that he did not last the week. I feel awful about it, to be honest, but Ian took the news well. (Probably in part because I didn't mention the whole egg noodle/disposal episode.)

RIP, Firetruck... may you have a cleaner tank and a better keeper in the fishy hereafter!

A Fishy Situation

2008-02-28T20:25:00.001-06:00

It's been a busy week for me; Howling at the Moon is finally out (yea!), my children have come home with science projects that require parental assistance (enough said), and I'm working hard at getting another book written. So in the spirit of multitasking and time management, I decided to make a phone call while changing out some of the water for my son's Betta.

Of course, because I was on the phone, I didn't scoop the water out with a glass. I just poured a little of it out of the top of the tank.

Which would have been a triumph of efficiency, except for one minor detail that I'm guessing you've already deduced. That's right. The stupid fish went too. And let me tell you, there's no worse feeling than watching your son's favorite blue betta literally circling the drain -- particularly when you're the one who put him there.

I hung up (a tad late, alas) and spent the next ten minutes with my hand down the disposal, wondering (a) if it would be more humane to run the disposal or just keep the water going to send the fish downstream; (b) how quickly I'd have to drive to replace the betta before Ian got home from school (answer: not a legal or even physically possible speed); and (c) which slimy thing was old egg noodle or something even more disgusting and which was fish. Something did flip around from time to time, so I knew not all hope was lost, but all I kept coming up with was egg noodles. At least I think that's what they were. Although we haven't had egg noodles in weeks, come to think of it. Best not to think of it, actually...

Anyway, after the twelfth egg noodle, it finally occurred to me to use a flashlight. To my (massive) relief, there the poor thing was, blue and forlorn, marooned between two egg-noodle-like objects and the jaws of the disposal. After another few minutes of him squirting through my fingers to even more difficult corners of the disposal, I managed to extricate him.

Firetruck, I am happy to say, is back in his tank now, and despite the missing scales on his nose and a couple of places on his back, he's remarkably undamaged. And nobody has noticed. Thank God.

I'd stay and write more, but I have to go slice potato and apple chunks for a science experiment and then find a bug to feed the gecko now. Cheers, and hope you're having a great week!

Happy Valentine's Day!

2008-02-14T19:39:00.002-06:00

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

I was just thinking last night as I perused the card section of the grocery store and selected eight (yes, eight) valentine's cards, four colorful potted plants, and two 24-count plastic bags of candy valentines (which I later filled out and hotglued together for my children's classmates) that the romantic aspect of this particular holiday is somewhat diminished for me these past few years. And I'm thinking the problem is that I'm a mom.

Most -- not all -- men feel they have managed a coup when they (a) remember that February 14 is a holiday that theoretically requires some action on their part and (b) show up with anything -- including the rubber chicken they substituted when they discovered the store had sold out of actual flowers -- in hand. And if they purchase a card that does not involve raunchy comments about female anatomy, they're in great shape till the next Valentine's Day -- or at least till the next anniversary. I saw several of these valentine-savvy men tonight as I waited in line to buy a drink at the local supermarket. (You can recognize them by the furtive glances at their watches and the plastic-wrapped, luridly colored roses.)

A mother's responsibility? Purchase, label, and distribute trinkets and/or live greenery to all the people capable of creating future psychoanalysis bills for one's children. And relatives, of course. Who I guess fall into that category, come to think of it.

Now, I can't complain -- my own sweet spouse arrived last night with a lovely, anatomy-free card and a beautiful bouquet of the same flowers that were in my wedding bouquet. Had he not had a meeting in Temple until ten last night, I'm sure he would have joined me in the hot-glue-a-thon. And it's not like I'm totally on top of things (exhibit a: my blog record for the past, oh, three months or so).

But you know what the worst of it is? Valentine's may have come and gone, but the Easter stuff is already in the stores.

Calgon, take me away...

A quick update...

2008-02-08T08:56:00.000-06:00

Hi, everyone.

Just checking in -- I've been working on books rather than blogs lately, so if you're missing me, that's why -- to say hi and let you know what's going on!

On the writing front, I'm currently working on the third book in the Gray Whale Inn series and the third in the Tales of an Urban Werewolf trilogy (hence my rather ghostly presence here); I'm also thinking of ideas for future projects (which is always fun).

I've also been working with my web designer to retool the web site, and hope to have the new version up next week. Fingers crossed!

On the publishing front, I just got some exciting news this week. HOWLING AT THE MOON, the first in the Tales trilogy, is already in its second printing... and the book isn't out until February 26th! It's also getting some great advance reviews, which is wonderful -- and a huge relief. MaryJanice Davidson, who writes the fabulous UNDEAD series and who's sold more books than God -- okay, well maybe not that many, but a whole lot -- wrote: "Sophie was a delight, and HOWLING AT THE MOON was like a big bag of potato chips...I kept reaching for the next page, and the next, and the next..."

And here's another one, from Reader to Reader Reviews: "...you’ll have the reading time of your life with talented author Karen MacInerney’s tale about a female werewolf who’s caught between the world of werewolves and humans. She has a foot in each and her balancing act will keep you howling too. With laughter, that is."

After being closeted with Sophie Garou for two years, it's wonderful to hear that other people enjoy her as much as I do. Whew!

At any rate, I just wanted to stop in and let everyone know that despite rumors to the contrary, I have not been crushed by a fallen piano or suffocated by the twenty cases of Girl Scout Cookies I've been hauling around town for the past month. Isn't that a relief? And come to think of it, does anyone want a few dozen boxes of shortbread cookies? I think I know where you can get them...

I hope all is well with everyone out there -- and if you have any favorite light recipes, please feel free to send them on; I'm working up the light fare for the third Gray Whale Inn mystery, MURDER MOST MAINE, so any and all ideas are much appreciated.

Stay warm, read lots, and I'll be back soon!

The perils of volunteering... and Merry Xmas!

2007-12-20T21:22:00.001-06:00

In a fit of good will some weeks back, I volunteered to help out with my son's Winter Party, which is scheduled for tomorrow. Which means I've got to figure out a way to transport and serve enough hot chocolate to satisfy 70 kindergarteners. Yes, that's right. 70!

I'm not completely insane, of course. In fact, the reason I volunteered is that I was hoping the coffee place where I've hung out for four years would be able to provide me those clever cardboard containers filled with chocolate bliss -- and at a discount. Unfortunately, only after I volunteered did I discover that they don't do that for hot chocolate: only coffee.

So tonight found me standing in front of the stove, singing along to Santa Baby and stirring a cauldron containing two and a half gallons of milk, an entire can of Hershey's cocoa, and about two pounds of sugar. And vanilla.

The only issue is, I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to get it there.

I've borrowed thermoses from everyone I know, but I still don't think it's enough. Come to think of it, I haven't bought cups yet, either. I do, however, have two cans of Reddi Whip and a giant bag of mini marshmallows. Because the pot is so darned large, though, I'm going to have to get up at five to get it heated up in time.

What was I thinking?

How are your holidays going? Mine are about par for the course.

Ho, ho, ho. I'm off for another glass of mulled wine now, and to set my alarm clock for five. Cheers!

Christmas? Already?

2007-11-27T10:06:00.001-06:00

How the heck did it get to be the Christmas season?

Every year I sail through November, thinking that I'll have plenty of time to get things ready before the madness begins. And every year, Thanksgiving comes and goes in a wash of stuffing and cranberry sauce, and after a few hours of lying on the couch groaning, I look at the calendar and realize that Christmas is mere weeks away. At which point the panic sets in.

My problem, I think, is that I refuse to think about Xmas -- on principle -- until after the last bit of cranberry sauce is gone and the kids have cracked the wishbone. But if you wait that long, you're almost too late.

I will tell you, though, that my favorite part of Christmas is that first time you go to Central Market and see all the European chocolates wrapped up in gold paper like little presents, and the smell of fresh baked bread, and the carols piping through the speakers... Christmas is an abstraction at that point, a pleasant diversion, not a deadline.

I love that abstraction, by the way, and adore the scents of gingerbread and Christmas trees and bayberry candles, and paper snowflakes and frosted windows. Oh, and homemade fudge -- if you haven't tried Maggie Sefton's mint fudge, you're missing out.

Hopefully I'll get most of the shopping done this week, and can spend the rest of the season downing eggnog and feeling smug. (Hope springs eternal, I guess.) In any case, hope your holiday seasons are off to a good start, and I'll be thinking of you as I take down the rest of the Halloween decorations! (Or glue Christmas stockings to the pumpkins.)

K

Coming up for air

2007-11-05T08:39:00.000-06:00

Hi, everyone, and thanks for being patient through my unplanned sabbatical. As much as I enjoy blogging, there are times when I just need to tune out the world for a bit and recenter. And finish those pesky manuscripts, of course! In the future, I'll try to do better giving everyone a heads-up, and I thank you for understanding. Like many of you, I have a lot of balls in the air, and sometimes I have to put a few down for a while just to retain my sanity.

I have cut back a bit recently, though, and am consequently feeling rejuvenated, which is wonderful. The second werewolf book is done now, and I'm working on the third GWI; am hoping to have it done relatively quickly before turning back to the werewolves for the third of the TALES series. I got a fabulous quote from goddess MaryJanice Davidson the other day, by the way -- I'll post it on the web site soon. (Oh, and I love my new editor, Kate Collins, who fortunately also loves the ms I recently turned in. Whew.)

I'll be back later on today catching up on comments... again, you guys are wonderful, and thanks for bearing with me!

K

Not the most productive week

2007-09-13T22:18:00.000-05:00

So last Sunday, my e-mail downloaded twenty-three-thousand e-mails to my inbox. Yes, that's right. Twenty-three thousand.

I called the stupid internet company and they told me that it was because I had (somehow, while sleep-walking, perhaps), changed the settings on my mail server, and it was downloading every message I'd ever gotten since 2001.

So I deleted all of them -- I have some sorting to do, because it wasn't until I got a few thousand of them in that I realized I should relocate the contents of my inbox -- and the mail server started working correctly.

Until the next day, when it downloaded all twenty-three thousand of them again.

It seems to be taken care of now -- and no, evidently it was not due to my sleepwalking that it happened, it was a problem with the Yahoo! server -- but between that and the fact that one of my kids was home with a fever most of the week, making me a bit short on sleep and working time, I haven't gotten quite as much done as I'd hoped.

However, I finished the rewrite today, am planning to review the rest of my page proofs tomorrow, and plan to dive into the home stretch of this book (ON THE PROWL) on Monday. Hopefully it will be done ahead of schedule.

Oh, and I read a book called Arctic Homestead and made a batch of yummy blueberry preserves, but I already blathered on about all of that over in Jam making and cabins on Cozy Chicks.

BTW, I was thinking about how many hours of my day get swallowed up by cooking and ferrying children around and emptying lunchboxes and doing laundry and taking out the trash, and realizing that I don't consider that 'work', but I think I'm wrong. What do you think?

P.S. Just found out this week that my editor at Ballantine is moving to England. That'll make this the third editor I've had for this series... and the first book isn't even out yet! Can you believe it?

Happy September!

2007-09-06T22:09:00.000-05:00

We're back from Alaska, nobody drowned, the kids are in school, Labor Day is over, we're all done having the stomach flu... and I have a SCHEDULE again.

Hallelujah!

Alaska was marvelous -- I have lots of pictures I have to figure out how to transfer -- and I just found out I also have the new cover of HOWLING AT THE MOON. (Since I found it on the Random House site, I figured it was public knowledge now.) I think it's gorgeous -- it's always amazing to see what the artists come up with, and I think this one is fabulous. It gives me chills to see it in print! (Although Sophie is definitely rather different from Natalie, don't you think?)

At any rate, how are you? If I've missed your e-mail in the past few weeks, I'm working through them -- feel free to drop me a reminder. I just posted on Cozy Chicks about what I've been doing other than writing, although for the next six weeks, writing is going to be at the top of the list (next deadline Oct. 15 -- yikes).

Cheers, and happy end-of-summer!

Karen

And we're off...

2007-08-02T12:58:00.000-05:00

I'm stealing a few quick minutes to check in (need to get as much bookwriting in as possible today, followed by finishing packing... what fun!).

We're off to Houston today, and three long flights to Alaska tomorrow. Abby is back from camp, and anxious to return next year. Right now, I'm playing hooky from my house, sitting in a Starbucks next to two German women who are looking at a stack of photos and talking (in German) about how ugly someone is. (It's fun -- I still remember it, and don't even have to think about it. Like riding a bike, I guess.)

At any rate, I hope you all have a wonderful week. I just got a huge edit from my agent two days ago and have been working like a madwoman to get through it. Why does this always happen just before vacation?

Cheers for now, and more when I get back! (I did pack the camera, and hopefully will remember to use it.)

Gosh... how did it get to be the end of July?

2007-07-26T19:57:00.001-05:00

So Abby comes back from camp this Saturday, and apparently things have been going less than swimmingly (har, har, har) the last few weeks. We got a note from her counselor two days ago that was -- well, let's call it tepid. Evidently (according to the camp coordinator, anyway) Abby is not overly fond of the swimming activities. Which is a bit of a problem, since they comprise approximately 80 percent of each day.

Since we have received exactly one written missive since her departure (written on the bus to camp, I suspect -- "Glad to be here, you can send packages!!!"), I have no idea how she's doing, and am rather anxious to have her back in the familial fold.

We'll know soon enough, I suppose -- and we'll celebrate her belated birthday (it happened at camp -- grrr) Saturday night. And some of our relatives may or may not attend, because approximately twenty of them will be in town, and the whole informal invitation process seems to have evolved into something like the Middle East peace talks.

*sigh*

Anyway, in other news, I am creeping along on the werewolf book -- if I'm feeling particularly motivated after signing off tonight, I will crack through the 80K mark. But if I decide to bag it and eat chocolate pudding instead, there's always tomorrow. Speaking of pudding, I made a great batch the other day -- a bit lumpy, since I poured the milk into the egg yolks a bit fast (it boiled over on the stove while I was cleaning up the bottle of Worcestershire I dropped on the tile floor while looking for the cornstarch, so it was all a bit hurried). Nevertheless, the whole thing was very chocolatey and yummy. Mmm. I think the pudding is going to win.

And I CAN eat pudding now, come to think of it, because I finally got my head shot done (it's the new profile pic -- I'll have a couple of others on the web site soon, too). I've been procrastinating for months, but finally had to bite the bullet, since I had to turn one in July 30. I don't know if you've ever had one done, but it was an all-day process, and when I've recovered from the trauma, maybe I'll blog about it. Right now, I'm just glad it's done, and I plan to use the thing until I'm 80. Maybe longer.

Oh, and according to Signe (isn't that a great name?), one of my editors at Ballantine, the new pub date for HOWLING is Feb. 2008, which I think is a month later than originally planned. All three books are coming out next year, and since I'm not quite done with the second, I'd better get cracking.

How are you? Oh, I posted on Cozy Chicks today, too -- am off to Alaska next week, which means lots of relatives, no Internet, and hopefully a few moose. I'll take pictures and forget to post them. I promise. ;)

Toodles... I've missed you all!

On the home stretch!

2007-07-12T22:57:00.000-05:00

So, despite the fact that I've been moping around this week (which has been accompanied by copious brownie and Dorito consumption, unfortunately), I've been writing like a fiend, and hit the 70K mark on my WIP. You know, the one I started back in January, then had to stop for a month or two so I could fix the previous WIP?

Anyway, this means not only that the end is in sight, but that I may actually beat my Oct. 15 deadline... perhaps by as much as two months!

And, because I'm such a daredevil, I'm now writing two books at once! I started Murder Most Maine when I was in Port Aransas on 'vacation' (I'm compulsive, what can I say), and have been working on it in the evenings once everyone else has gone to bed. I've always been afraid to try two at once -- I don't know what I thought would happen -- but it's actually rather refreshing to switch gears. Besides, I'm always reading six or seven books (a conservative estimate) at once, and rarely get them confused. Why would writing be any different?

So I'm at 70K on the second wolf book (I'm calling it Wolf Under Cover -- what do you think?) and closing in on 5K on Murder Most Maine, which I started last week. It's so nice getting some momentum going again!

Am headed to Dallas for a marathon day of meeting with interesting people (e.g. my fab agent Jessica, one of my editors, who I can't WAIT to meet in person, and some of the good folks at Ballantine -- not to mention Renee Jones of CCTV Books in Review) tomorrow. And since I'm due to be up in six and a half hours, I'm off to bed now. I promise to respond to comments when I get back... and I did post to Cozy Chicks today. Thankfully. :)

Cheers, and more soon!

The first of many leavings

2007-07-08T17:40:00.000-05:00

Well, my daughter left for summer camp (3 whole weeks!) today for the first time ever, and I'm feeling totally bereft. Which is silly. But there it is. Thank goodness I still have Ian at home, or I'd be... on a plane to Europe, come to think of it. Hmmm.... Maybe this camp thing won't be so bad after all.

So since I was at loose ends this afternoon (i.e. feeling sorry for myself and toking up on brownies) and my page proofs have to go out via FedEx tomorrow, I finished those up, then added about 200 words to the next Gray Whale Inn mystery (which I started in Port Aransas sitting by the pool, trying not to get splashed or carried off by a giant mosquito), and now I'm sitting on the futon next to a stack of library books I don't have the heart to pick up because I'm missing my girl. I know that camp is hardly a gulag, but I also know this is the first taste of many departures to come. But I need to snap out of it. Sheesh!

Tomorrow I will hopefully have coffee with the fabulous Susan Wittig Albert, who is one of my favorite authors (both writingwise and friendwise) -- provided she can get out of her driveway, that is. She lives in the flooded part of Central Texas, which is not, incidentally, very far from where I sent my precious daughter this afternoon, and she may be stuck. I hope she gets out; not only would I love to see her, but she's got a signing at BookWoman.

But that's not all I have to look forward to. Later this week, I'll be meeting with Kendra Crispin of That Other Paper, and I'll also spend a day in Dallas, meeting with agent extraordinaire Jessica, lunching with one of my Ballantine editors (and hopefully one of the publicity directors), and then taping a show for CCTV before attending a Ballantine cocktail hour and then driving home. I am, in case you were wondering, packing caffeine.

I did get some good news today -- two friends, Jim Bast and fellow author Sylvia Dickey Smith alerted me to the fact that Murder on the Rocks is number 7 on the local bestseller list according to the Austin American-Statesman. And something must have hit somewhere, because my Amazon numbers jumped up yesterday and haven't come back down. It's mystifying, this whole business.

But I still miss my sweetie. If only I had cable and could watch the Food Network!

What are you up to?

Happy 50th Melissa!

2007-07-01T17:46:00.000-05:00

Can you hear me singing from here?

And my helpful hint for the day; there is no sunblock on the planet equipped to deal with the summer sun on the Texas coast.

We all look like lobsters.

Off to have hot dogs now. Cheers, and I wish I could be there to celebrate!

Port A

2007-06-30T21:25:00.000-05:00

Hi, guys...

I'm writing this at nine-thirty at night on the sidewalk outside a circa-1980s condo in Port Aransas.

I can't e-mail out from here (even though I am getting them)... but I'm just fine. Thanks for checking, Laura!

The sea wind is at my back, my children are upstairs with someone other than me, and somebody else's kids are playing in the pool behind me. And the sprinklers just went off and completely drenched my computer.... ack!

I'm A-OK, but will probably (as you have perhaps noticed) be posting sporadically over the next month or two. What little time I have seems to be going toward the next book (but there's not enough of it); and my page proofs for Howling -- all 368 pages of them -- just landed on my front doorstep last week. Ack!

I will, however, be back more frequently when things are less nutty...

How are your summers going?

Hugs to all, and thanks for bearing with me...

Karen

The update

2007-06-14T20:20:00.000-05:00

So much to catch up on!

You've probably noticed that I've had much less time lately for blogging, and I apologize for that; summer vacation has officially started, and I'm racing to get Wolf 2 -- tentatively titled On the Prowl, now at 59K words with approx. 30 to go -- finished by the end of July.

Home-wise, Abby had her surgery, and she's just fine -- the path report on the mole excision came back negative and the margins are clear. (Giant whew -- I'm attributing it to all the wonderful thoughts you guys sent our way. Thank you so very much!) The tarantula I found two weeks ago in my tennis shoe is now named Hairy Terry and lives in a terrarium in my living room, right next to the fish. My house is being consumed by my children and my rabbit, and I despair of ever having an organized corner. BUT I did post on Cozy Chicks today (wow! two posts in one day!) about a rather opinionated person I met this afternoon at the library. And we're trying to put in a vegetable garden and lay about a billion very heavy pavers in the muddy part of the back yard. Because I don't have enough to do.

Oh -- and I have -- perhaps erroneously -- introduced my children to Monty Python, the result being that my son has many, many questions about blancmange and why it makes noises when it eats people. If you have good answers, please e-mail at your earliest convenience.

On the book front, a good bit of news: the first book of the Tales of an Urban Werewolf series, Howling at the Moon, is scheduled for release Jan. 29, which I discovered when I found it on Amazon the other day. (Which is also how I discovered that there are now large-print versions available of the Gray Whale Inn mysteries. Who knew?) According to my editor, the next two books are scheduled for release Summer and Fall 2008 respectively (gulp), and I need to write another GWI mystery in there, too. So far, my self-cloning efforts have not yet been successful. Again, all tips welcome.

I've missed you guys in all the rush. What are you up to? How are your summers? How's your writing? Inquiring minds want to know!

P.S. A reader e-mailed me recently asking me to post on my book outlining technique; I'll get to that very soon! If there's anything you want to know, just ask!

Austin Slacker (and a book release)

2007-06-06T12:32:00.000-05:00

Yep, that's me. At least as far as the blogging's concerned. (Although I did post to Cozy Chicks on schedule last week, so that's something.)

I think everything was so busy for a couple of weeks that I wore myself out. So I took an unannounced break, got my head in order, and it seems to have worked; I've torn through 5,000 words on Wolf 2 since Monday, and hope to have the book done by the end of July so I can visit the Gray Whale Inn for a couple of months. Really looking forward to that... and please send your light recipes my way! (I'm putting Natalie on a diet. It's self-defense.)

Abby had her surgery last Friday, and we're waiting for the biopsy results (that weird mole had started to grow back, and I'm getting nervous again just typing this, so I think I'll think about other things now.)

Speaking of other things, Beads of Doubt, the book I finished for my dear late mentor Barbara Burnett Smith, came out yesterday, which means I should probably add "update web site" to the list of things to do today. I need an assistant, I think. Unfortunately, that's not likely to happen in the foreseeable future. :)

Melissa, I will cut and paste your comment today or tomorrow... hope all is well in your neck of the woods! How do you manage cleaning out garages in summer? Hot, hot, hot...

Will post as soon as I know anything on Abby... keep your fingers crossed, and hope all is well with you!

Okay, back to the werewolves...

Short and sweet... just like boric acid snack cakes

2007-05-24T22:19:00.000-05:00

Just a quick one tonight... promise to respond to your comments tomorrow (and Melissa, I got yours via e-mail).

I made up some condensed-milk-boric-acid snack cakes, John, and distributed them for the six-legged population's enjoyment. I'll let you know how it goes; thanks for the tip!

And some good news today. Charlotte, my editor at Ballantine, is 100 pages from the end of the revisions I sent her and says they're great, and that the book will be ready to go into production next week.

Hallelujah.

And, for those of you who are interested, I just did a quickie (post, that is) over at Cozy Chicks on the merits of partial chaos.

Ciao for now... dead tired... hope all is well with you!

Ick

2007-05-23T22:29:00.000-05:00

I was standing in the kitchen five minutes ago, fixing myself an artichoke heart and tomato salad (not particularly tasty, but filling), when the motion sensor light on the back porch went on.

And do you know what set it off?

A gigantic tree roach.

That's right. It was big enough to TRIP THE MOTION SENSOR.

I will be calling Aztec Organic Pest Control tomorrow.

Ick.

Bureaucracy strikes again

2007-05-23T14:47:00.000-05:00

So, I did my annual pilgrimage to the Travis County Appraisal District today, to contest the appraised value of my house. Usually, it's not a big deal; I spent a year reviewing appraisals for a living, and for the last eight years, I've come out with a reduction in my appraised value.

Not today, however.

The woman I dealt with today informed me that the appraised value was based on the average appraised value in my district. When I suggested that the appraised value was supposed to represent how much money I could actually get for my house, and that my appraised value seemed rather higher than the comparable sales in my neighborhood, she informed me that no, the appraised value was actually based on average appraised values in my neighborhood. Which evidently exist in some alternate universe in which a house's actual market value is not at all a factor.

Still, I insisted (silly me) on using sales prices as a gauge of value. And when I pointed out that on paper, my house was exactly the same as others that had sold at a rather lower price per square foot, she informed me that there had been an 'adjustment.'

"For what?" I asked.

She peered at her computer for a moment, pulled out a piece of paper, and said, "Your house is an L-shape. The others are squares. That's what the (multi-thousand-dollar) adjustment is for."

When I (perhaps a bit heatedly) suggested that most buyers wouldn't give a rat's a** whether the house was square or L-shaped, she remained unmoved.

Needless to say, I'll be taking this up with the board next week.

Grrr.

Anyone else brave the tax board?

Fireflies

2007-05-22T21:54:00.001-05:00

Do you remember catching fireflies in Mason jars, and having magic lanterns in your bedroom at night? I do -- particularly at my grandmother's house in Pennsylvania. We'd catch a whole jar of them, sit down in the kitchen and have root beer floats, then let them out again just before we tucked ourselves in to sleep.

There aren't so many of the little bugs down here, but the magic is the same. After dinner tonight, the kids and I had an enchanted evening racing up and down the street, following the little flashing bugs -- like traveling stars -- through front yards. I love watching my daughter, hands extended like she's about to pray, wandering through the grass, transfixed by the tiny green flashes. And the excitement when she catches one -- you can see the glow through her fingers.

Magical moments.

And speaking of magical moments, I had one today, when I sent my edits off to my editor. I then spent the next three hours looking through the first 50K of the second book -- and getting excited about it all over again.

So all is right with the world, at least in my corner of Austin.

How are you?

Whew. And my next murder victim!

2007-05-20T23:39:00.000-05:00

Well, it's been a flurry of a week, and I've heard from several of you that you are unable to post comments. I'm hoping that it's just a blip, since Blogger Help is less than easy to deal with; if it continues, please let me know, and I will brave the help people.

At any rate, this week has been very, very busy. I went to a marvelous book group (Mad About Mysteries) Tuesday, taught my mystery class Wednesday through Friday, and gave a brief talk at the Barbara Burnett Smith Aspiring Writers event today. I also officially received the first SAGE award, which is lovely, and of which yet another photo is languishing in my camera.

Must get iPhoto installed.

So I had a lovely afternoon at Barnes and Noble, talking with lots of friendly writers about the wonderful supportive spirit of mentoring. And after consuming a giant Caesar salad and a few dozen sugar cookies that Sara Ann kindly brought to the party, I went home and changed into sneakers. And then, at my husband's urging, I engaged in a soccer scrimmage for the first time since I was about nine.

Unfortunately, the other players have evidently done a bit more work on their soccer skills in the intervening years, so it was not exactly a confidence-boosting experience, despite my kind husband's insistence that I didn't do nearly as abysmally as he had expected.

On the bright side of things, I DID meet my next murder victim. (Fictional, of course. The murder will be, that is. Literary wish fulfillment, you could call it.)

Her name is... well, let's just call her Madge. (Short for Middle-Aged Dreadful Gorgon. Which would actually flow better as Dreadful Middle-Aged Gorgon, but the acronym wouldn't work.) Anyway, Madge has very definite ideas about who should and should not be allowed to play in lower-division co-ed recreational old-people's soccer. And -- you may have guessed this already -- in her (abundantly, vociferously, frequently expressed) opinion, I fall into the latter category.

I'm not saying I disagree with her. But she was so rude -- and I mean jaw-droppingly rude -- that after the initial shock wore off, my first impulse was, well, less than charitable.

Which is really not like me.

So I figure I'll keep showing up, if for no other reason to annoy her. And to pick up additional character quirks to incorporate into my next novel. If nothing else, I can always spend my time on the sidelines watching the kids and trying to figure out what to use as a murder weapon.

Heck, I may even spring for some cleats... and not just because Madge told me approximately 25 times that it was preposterous of me to even step out on the field without them, even though I wasn't the only one. (When I told her that my thought was to try the whole soccer thing out before dropping $20 or more on shoes I might never wear again, she sniffed and said I should have gone to Goodwill and bought smelly used ones. Again, kudos to me for exercising considerable self-restraint.)

But enough about Madge for now, although I'm sure I'll have more to say on that topic next week. Writing. I'm here to talk about writing, aren't I? And on that score, I am proud to announce that I am finally done with the rewrite, save for one steamy scene, and after rereading all 420 pages of my magnum opus tomorrow, I will send it off and resume work on the second book. Incidentally, last Friday, at Starbucks, I finished a scene, looked around at my compatriots, and said, "I don't know how your days are going, but I've had two orgasms in the last hour!"

Can you say awkward silence? :)

And even though writing steamy scenes is not my favorite activity (in the margin of every one, my editor wrote, "More detail would be fun"), it's getting to be easier. Particularly if you add a bit of humor in there. I doubt, however, that I will ever be in the same league as the erotic sci-fi writer I met at Romantic Times, whose aliens are blessed with... well, let's just say multiple endowments.

And you know what? I'm okay with that.

But enough about me. How are you?

And do you have any soccer tips for me? :)

Thanks for bearing with me

2007-05-17T16:42:00.000-05:00

Hi, guys!

I know I've been a bit more sporadic than usual this past week or two, but this is the busiest time of the year for me; I've got events four out of five nights this week, had two last weekend and one planned for this Sunday, and on top of that, I've been plowing through that edit and trying to manage all the end-of-school stuff.

But I am still here, and just finished my post (My Not So Secret Vices) today on Cozy Chicks. For those of you who know me and have read the Gray Whale Inn books, it will not come as a surprise that my primary not-so-secret vice is food, but there you have it.

I'm off to prepare for tonight's class, read your fabulous comments, and see how many e-mails I've missed over the past week.

On the plus side, although I still have to... er... beef up two love scenes, my edit is pretty much done, and I can move on to new things. You know it's long when your word processor can't even post the word count at the bottom of the page anymore (I topped 100K the other day).

Amen.

How are you?

Summer "Vacation"

2007-05-10T17:58:00.000-05:00

...is bearing down on me like a freight train.

Is it just me? Where did the school year go? How the heck did it get to be May?

And whose brilliant idea was it to jam an entire year’s worth of activities into one month, then follow it with a desert of three school-less months where everything is closed?

I can’t be the only one walking around looking like a deer in the headlights at this time of year. Even WITH the twenty (rather expensive, alas) summer camps I signed the kids up for.

I have two children, which always used to seem manageable, if not exactly a walk in the park. But I’ve discovered that if you’re not hypervigilant, the activities kind of creep in there (basketweaving on Thursdays? Sure, honey!), and combined with school plays, doctor and dentist visits, and school events, all of a sudden you’re having to block out seventeen minutes to sit down and have dinner. Which you’ve bought pre-prepared, because who has time to cook?

Of course, all that will end in about three weeks. After which my children will be hanging off of me like ripe fruit. (Only more active, and vocal.)

So after nine months of ferrying children to mind-enriching activities and creating impromptu Abigail Adams caps out of cheesecloth and twine, I’ll be fending off requests to create to-scale replicas of the Taj Mahal in mixed media (drinking straws, egg cartons, and permanent marker, most of which will end up on my couches).

What are your summer plans?

Do they involve rum?

And if so, do you have a mojito recipe you’d like to share? ;)

(No more pink wine for me, thank you very much. At least not tonight...)

How did I get here?

2007-05-09T19:28:00.000-05:00

Did you ever have one of those days when you wondered exactly how you ended up where you are?

As you may have guessed, I'm having one right now. It's probably because after I had my critique group last night, I headed over to Waterloo Records and picked up a CD I haven't listened to in about 12 years. But I popped it into my minivan's CD player (we had to replace the left front speaker recently, and it looks like the front right speaker is going to have to be replaced, too) and was suddenly transported back to another time.

A less complicated time.

A time when, to be honest, I would have welcomed more complications.

I was thinking about it this evening; right now, I'd like a life that's relatively uncluttered, with lots of time for reflection -- and, of course, for writing. And dream-following, of course; we only have one life, and it's up to us to make the most of it.

But between the school plays and the kids' health problems (yes, there are more now -- not major ones, but issues that require further consultations, time commitments and worry) and the laundry and the bills and the editing deadlines and the oil changes I haven't done yet (speaking of which, my inspection sticker expired in February and I still haven't done anything about it), some days I wonder exactly how I got here.

And how I can get to Tahiti from here.

Which brings something else to mind. Several years ago, I moved to a beautiful 1860s Victorian house in Bethel, Connecticut. It was like something out of a fairy tale; my room was a beautiful pale peach, with antique hardwood floors. It also had a lovely balcony overlooking a grove of tall, tall trees; in June, it seemed like heaven on earth. I recall looking forward to a proper snowy Christmas, and vividly remember one December night, looking out my mullioned window at fat flakes of snow as they swirled down from the gray-black sky. It was beautiful -- I half-expected snow fairies to pop out of the trees and perform a little pas-de-deux.

By February, however, the beautiful windows were covered with plastic and blankets (the house had no insulation, and the temperature never topped 50 degrees) and I was sending letters to the Chamber of Commerce in the U.S. Virgin Islands. (In my defense, I'd spent over a decade in Texas and didn't own proper boots, much less a coat, so I was hardly prepared. As I recall, I spent most of that winter in the bathroom, reading about Arizona -- with a space heater and a hot bath.)

But I digress. The point is, there are those of us who are destined to be content, I think.

And then there are people like me, who are always scanning the horizon, looking for what's next.

And this entire post just goes to show why I should NEVER post after imbibing two glasses of pink wine. Because I get totally maudlin.

Okay. Enough navel-gazing. (And -- obviously -- enough pink wine.) I'm off to start chivvying children to bed. Oh, and writing? I'm in edit mode, on page 250 of a 400 (400!) page manuscript, and working at a rate of 30 pages per day. Hope to be done by this time next week, at which point I'll try to remember where I was on the other manuscript when I switched gears.

How are you? Any exciting news? Any fun trips to destinations that you can tell me about? (These days, it's all about vicarious travel...)

Roast beef, yogurt, bananas... and arias?

2007-05-07T20:50:00.000-05:00

Between editing and picking up my son this afternoon, I made a quick stop at the grocery store, where I picked up some cold cuts, some yogurt, a few tomatoes... and an impromptu singing lesson.

I was subsequently serenaded in three languages. In the parking lot. While I put my groceries into the back of the minivan.

You see, for some reason, while I was paying for my groceries, the man bagging them (his name is Jud) asked if I was a singer. (Why, I have no idea -- my speaking voice is less than mellifluous, to my ears, anyway.) When I told him I only sang in the car, and that my children usually asked me to stop before I hit the third note, he launched into a mini-workshop on how to sing (I vaguely remember something about using the diaphragm to push the lungs up, relaxing the throat, letting the mouth open, and not singing from the throat, but there was much, much more, and I've lost it already)...

Jud didn't ask me if I needed to be accompanied on the way to my car, he just provided it -- both corporeally and musically. As we walked across the parking lot, he told me all about the difference between singing in Czech and Italian (Italian is, evidently, all about the vowels, making it easy to sing beautifully, whereas Czech, like German and English, involves clenching the jaw).

When we got to the minivan, I started loading the bags while the demonstrations began. Jud didn't hold back at all; as we stood there in the parking lot, unloading groceries, he took a deep breath and belted out a few arias, trying to show me the difference between the sounds. I'm sure we got some odd looks, but I didn't care a whit. I was happy to be an audience, even if only for a few minutes; it was wonderful to hear someone so excited about something. And so anxious to share it.

As I got the last bag into the van and closed the hatch, Jud concluded his al fresco performance with a lovely little Italian aria. He then informed me that Luisa Tetrazzini had written a singing instruction book with Caruso, and that it was available on the third floor of the main library branch downtown. And that I should get it immediately before someone else snapped it up.

I thanked him, of course, and then we went our separate ways -- both smiling.

Truth be told, even though I have no plans to further my musical training at this time (or, quite frankly, ever), it was just a delightful experience, and I look forward to my next grocery run.

Because who knows? I might just get to hear some Chinese!

Malice, marshmallow fluff, and eyebrows

2007-05-06T00:13:00.000-05:00

I just got back from the banquet (and post-banquet drinks), and I had a great time. Lots of fun authors and fans! And a good dinner, even if the chocolate mousse cake tasted disappointingly like brown marshmallow fluff.

And for those of you have been wondering about the Agathas, alas, the esteemed teapot didn't go home with me. It did, however, go home with Sandra Parshall, who is a lovely woman -- and, from everything I've heard, wrote a great book (it's called Heat of the Moon).

I got to hang out with a TON of authors and readers, though, and took even more photos I haven't downloaded yet. When I finally do get around to posting them all, it's going to be one picture-riffic post.

Oh -- and I've been saving up little tidbits the last few days -- have to share them.

First, when I complimented a woman in the Austin airport on her perfume, she informed me it was "CK Ethiopia."

To which I said: "Ethiopia? Do you mean Utopia?" (Easy to confuse, I know.)

Her response? "Yeah, that's it. Oh, and there's another good one. It's called Juicy Contour." (Correct me if I'm wrong -- I am not an aficionado of these things -- but isn't it "Juicy Couture?")

She was so nice, and the things coming out of her mouth were so fun, I just wanted to keep her talking (in part to see what other perfume names she could come up with), but alas, we were cruelly separated by the airline security lines.

My next unique discovery was a ladies' room in the DFW airport that smells EXACTLY like a donut shop. Weird.

And my last little tidbit came from the massive horde of highschool kids on the plane. One of the rather loud, blonde girls in the seats in front of mine shouted across the aisle to a friend (in a very urgent tone): "Brittany. You HAVE to come over here. We're discussing eyebrows!"

Another not-to-be-missed conversation, I'm sure. And it was doubtless documented by the twelve digital cameras they had with them, all of which probably exhausted their memory and battery life before we crossed over Tennessee. (We were headed to D.C.) I'm afraid the only pictorial memories of their big trip will involve the blue seatbacks of a 747 and a lot of braces.

Well, it's past midnight here, and I have to be up in six hours for the Sisters in Crime breakfast, but I just wanted to check in and say hi.

Toodles! More soon, I promise...

Malice-bound

2007-05-03T22:53:00.000-05:00

So my camera is filling up with photos left and right. Have I downloaded any of them? Of course not.

And am I going to do that right now?

No. I'm going to go to bed. Because I have to get up at FIVE (yes, that's five A.M.) to go to the airport.

For Malice Domestic!

Where I will take several more pictures that hopefully will not languish on my camera for too, too long.

Anyway, when I get back (or if I have Internet access and a few free minutes in D.C.), I'll tell you all about my Georgetown engagement (holy smoke), all the great authors I met at Malice, who won the Agathas, and whether or not I streaked down King Street in Alexandria after the banquet.

Ha, ha, ha. Just kidding. Hopefully.

BUT, speaking of Alexandria, I was talking with a friend of mine at Starbucks today, and it turns out that we both used to go to the Union Street Pub in Old Town for dinner most nights of the week... 13 years ago. He sat in a booth, I sat at the bar, so we never met.

Isn't that strange?

Writingwise, I've added about 5K words to my first manuscript, all in the name of editing; at this rate, the darned thing will be 150K long.

Plan to do more on the plane tomorrow. But for now, must sleep.

When I return, things should (please, God, please) settle down for a few weeks, and I'll be able to post more regularly. But in the meantime, how are you? Inquiring minds want to know...

New Cozy Chicks blog site!

2007-04-30T17:27:00.000-05:00

I am SO happy... the Cozy Chicks blog has a new site! And not only is it beautiful, but I will be able to post on it!

You can find it here.

Amen.

Oh -- and I had yet another photo session today, this time with a very nice photographer from the Killeen Daily Herald. They'll be featuring me in this Wednesday's Taste section. I hope it went well; Ian kept barreling into me at inopportune moments and removed the clip from my not-particularly-well-styled hair, so we'll see.

Why can't I just get an authorial stand-in for my photos? :)

And I have a few pics from RT to post, but I have to upload them to the other computer and then e-mail them to myself, and I haven't done it yet. Note to self: drop laptop off at MacTronics to get iPhoto reinstalled on my laptop. I am sorry to say that I was too shy to get a shot of the two portly merpeople lounging on a couch, but you can use your imaginations.

Workwise, I spent two hours editing (that's all I had left after making another coffee cake for the photo shoot) and am embarrassed to tell you how far I didn't get. This editing stuff is slow going! Speaking of coffee cake production, this morning, I put a stick of butter in the mixing bowl, stuck it in the microwave, took a phone call, and then proceeded to spend twenty minutes looking for the mixing bowl. And I mean looking: the garage, the back yard, the bathroom, under the beds (I have two imaginative kids, so you never know). I even called Eric and semi-yelled at him for misfiling it.

Then I remembered I'd put butter in the microwave and went to get it. And lo and behold, it was in the mixing bowl.

Okay, off to cook dinner. How's your world?

Romantimania!

2007-04-27T15:47:00.000-05:00

So I know I've been a bit lax on the posting. But most of the week so far has been taken up scrambling to get ready for the RT conference in Houston. I'm here now, and did my panel this morning (which was fun), and Michele Scott and I just came back from buying 24 bottles of less-than-premium champagne and a big bottle of Aleve at a Fiesta grocery store.

The people behind us in line were intensely curious. As you may be too, come to think of it. But no, it's not that we're raging alcoholics. We're hosting a morning mixer tomorrow morning, and had to get drinks for more than 200 people.

Of course, we didn't tell the folks behind us that. We just left them to wonder...

At any rate, I must say that the world of romance is rather different from the world of mystery, at least as far as conferences go. At Malice, it's all about tea and fancy hats. Here, I have seen dozens of fairy wings, men wearing purple velour stretch leggings, and more than a few folks wearing not much more than their tattoos. And some wonderful titles: my favorites so far include Puss in Boots (the cover did not have cats on it), Merlicious Seven, and -- no I am not making this up -- Heaving Bosoms.

Heavens to Betsy.

And yesterday I put together a big raffle basket for my Howling at the Moon series, with lots of fun little stuff. I went and checked on it today; someone stole the truffles and a pedicure brush from it.

If they were that desperate for chocolate, they're welcome to it; but what were they doing with the pedicure brush AND the truffles? I shudder to think...

In a few hours, I'll be at Murder by the Book. I know I'll see at least a few folks there... if you're in Houston and have the time, do drop by!

Signing off in Romance-Land...

K

(a half hour later)

I almost forgot my favorite author name.

Aphrodite Porne.

Okay, off to Murder by the Book now...

People who sew

2007-04-23T21:06:00.000-05:00

amaze me.

I had to make a pilgrimage to Hancock Fabrics today, in search of a piece of cloth I could turn into an impromptu Abigail Adams hat. (The oral presentation for which I was creating said hat was scheduled for today, not tomorrow, which I discovered when I got home from the store, but oh, well. They rescheduled it.)

So I bought a piece of eyelet (that white stuff with lots of little holes in it), and although I was disappointed not to find a fabric with holes big enough that I could string a piece of ribbon through it without cutting additional holes (like I said, I'm a minimalist crafter), I walked up to the cash register satisfied with my burst of maternal creativity.

And then I noticed that the person behind me in line had six gigunda-spools of blue thread.

"For my serger," she said when I inquired why she needed forty miles of thread. A serger, she then explained (which was very kind), is essentially a sewing machine on steroids.

Since my single previous sewing-at-home experience cost an estimated $350 (sewing machine, lessons, fabric, pins, etc.) and resulted one crooked check jumper that kept falling off my daughter's left shoulder, I long ago decided sewing is something best left to the professionals. And I have never made it through an entire SPOOL of thread, much less one of those fishing-reel-sized wads of cotton this woman was buying.

So I asked her what she did with all that thread.

"I make clothes," she said. "I usually find a pattern and make it in a cheap material, just to see if it works. Then I redo it using the expensive stuff."

That's right. She sews it once -- kind of a trial run -- and then RESEWS it when she's sure she got it right.

I cannot IMAGINE doing something like that. In fact, I can't think of a less pleasant way to spend six months. (Because that's how long it would take me. For the first run.)

I guess I'm not a seamstress. As tempting as those colorful fabrics are, I long ago decided it was much cheaper to buy my clothes already made.

And today, instead of writing, I dug around in the dirt, mulched, and hung up two balls of Praying Mantis eggs. Apparently mantises can catch mosquitoes. We'll see. Dinner was sauteed tilapia with chimichurri sauce, a Mediterranean cut salad, and a nice glass of Pinot Noir. The quality and quantity of my cooking is inversely proportional to the quality and quantity of my writing, I've found.

And I still haven't figured out what to do about my coffee house...

The chair problem

2007-04-20T21:40:00.000-05:00

So even though I declared this week a writing sabbatical, my coffee house reopened today, and I had to go check it out.

And I am still reeling from what I found.

In the place of my four brown cushy chairs -- in which I have comfortably written several books -- are three extremely straight-backed, red-velour monstrosities (the tops of the arms are wood -- wood!) and... a chaise longue.

Yes, that's right. A chaise longue.

Which means that unless I am willing to bring a lumbar support cushion (and perhaps a pair of sunglasses -- that fabric is bright), I am going to have to find another coffeehouse.

Maybe this is God's way of telling me it's time to shake things up a bit.

What do you think the odds are that I could convince the owner of Cafe Uno (the place I was raving about yesterday) to put in a few big comfy chairs?

*sigh*

Double whoops... and missing what's under your nose

2007-04-19T19:46:00.000-05:00

Well, I just realized it's Thursday and I once again forgot to post to Cozy Chicks.

Of course, the fact that Blogger still won't let me in to Cozy Chicks makes it a bit tough to post anyway, but what the hey. Fortunately, that should be fixed soon, as we have a new design in the works that I love.

But I didn't come here to post about Cozy Chicks.

Instead, I wanted to talk about my little Italian fantasy.

As I mentioned yesterday, my traditional writing haunt is closed for renovations (although word is it will be open again tomorrow). So a friend of mine e-mailed me and suggested I go a bit further afield and try Cafe Uno, which is owned by a bona fide Italian and serves a great cup of coffee.

Well, I had no idea what I was in for. It was perfect, down to the foamy caffe latte served with little wrapped chocolates and tubes of sugar like you get in Europe. The atmosphere was magical, with the added bonus that everyone was speaking a language I understood. And the pastries are flown in from Milan every three days. Direct!

As I sat there swigging my cappuccino and unwrapping my chocolate, I got to thinking. I live in a great city with lots of wonderful little spots like this one to choose from. I mean, they even have those cute little cafe tables with the metal legs!

But what do I do?

I go to my local you-know-what-bucks, drink my ordinary coffee, and (when I'm not writing) read travel essays that make me dream about cafes EXACTLY like the one just five miles up the road.

How dumb is that?

I used to work in a cubicle and imagine all the wonderful things I would do were I not forced to sit in a cubicle all day. I had many, many, fantasies, including lounging around coffee shops writing deep and pithy novels, going to exotic foreign countries and teaching English, and doing field work in some remote, jungle-esque territory. (All of which were infinitely preferable to trying to write gripping copy about telecommunications widgets from the confines of an oatmeal-colored cube.)

Okay, so maybe I do the writing in coffee shops bit. So far I haven't created the literary equivalent of Great Expectations, but at least I'm doing something I thought about.

Still, though. There are all these wonderful experiences out there, within mere minutes of my house. I know they're out there. And I'm sure I'd enjoy them -- just like I enjoyed the delightful Italian creme-brulee-esque thingamajig my friend bought for me today.

But I never think to.

Why is that?

(I am vowing to make some changes, though. For starters, I'm going to get a lesson -- yes, an actual lesson -- on hairdryer operation tomorrow. Which is sort of embarrassing, but there it is. I'll let you know how that goes.)

Oh, and writing? I did 501 words today. All of which you just read.

Make that 510. :)

No, I haven't died.

2007-04-18T18:27:00.000-05:00

But I did go home on Monday morning after dropping my son off just so I could lie on the couch in a semi-coma for a few hours.

Which wasn't nearly enough time, in retrospect.

It's one of those pesky little writing troughs, I think; one of those times when edits come in on one book just as you're at the "What the heck am I doing?" stage with another.

The solution to such situations is, of course, large quantities of chocolate, baths, good books and rest.

All of which I've done. Of course, I've also attended an out-of-town signing (which went great), taught a class, attended a critique group, and given a talk at my local library. Which was wonderful, incidentally, because not only did lots of people I like show up, but I met lots of new, interesting people. And signed several books as birthday presents for people. Which was lovely.

But now I'm sitting in my kitchen listening to the classical station, waiting for dinner to finish (baked Greek chicken with couscous and a spinach salad) and sniffing the orange candle I splurged on at Whole Foods this week. And drinking a nice glass of Riesling (NOT a Sam's 'special offer', I'm happy to say).

I haven't written a word this week. Not entirely because my favorite writing spot is closed for a remodel. I choose to view it as synchronicity.

And I may not do any writing, actually. Giving myself a break.

Oops! Timer's going off. Dinner awaits...

How are you?

Magic 101

2007-04-14T11:51:00.000-05:00

My five-year-old just walked into the kitchen with a magic wand, pointed it at me, and hollered, "Expecto Patrono!"

I put down the glass I was unloading from the dishwasher and let out a mock scream.

"No," my budding magician said, impatiently. "You're a pimento. You're supposed to walk away now."

(Incidentally, my daughter calls dementors "Dementions." Kind of like detention for the insane.)

I'm off to Remember the Alibi, but will have more time later today (yesterday was the gymnastics drive-a-thon followed by a wine-and-Chinese-food-get-together, so it was less than blog-tastic).

And I just realized I forgot to do my Cozy Chicks thing on Thursday.

Whoops!

Will be back to read, react, and perhaps post again later...

Ciao for now!

In brief

2007-04-12T21:07:00.000-05:00

Long day, just got home... but my web site update should be done by the end of the week, and I have about a gazillion new events listed. There will also be a PDF of the fabulous Longhorn Living insert (it was in yesterday's Daily Texan). I mentioned that I was interviewed by reporter and writer Ashley Moreno last week; she did a great article and put me on the front page, and I'm thrilled.

But now I'm off to take a bath.

Oh, but before I go, we broke the news to Abby today that there's more mole-excision work to be done (she's relieved they're doing it with a general anesthetic, but I'm not so relieved. I like the doctor tremendously, though, and he didn't seem to think I should worry, so I'm not. Not too much, anyway...)

More tomorrow. Oh, and I didn't write today; instead, I got myself a skin check, and am happy to report that I'm free of suspicious moles. In case you were wondering, the Skin Cancer Journal is not the ideal light reading material for when you're sitting in the examining room waiting for a dermatologist to come in and tell you whether you need to have large chunks of skin removed and biopsied.

Have to go before the bath cools too much. (And your comments are great; I'll be back to answer them later tonight or tomorrow. Thanks as always! I love reading them...)

Stupid mortality

2007-04-11T20:16:00.000-05:00

I don't often think about it, but the last few weeks, this whole "ashes to ashes" thing just keeps popping up.

And not just because that's all they talked about at the 2-plus hour pre-Easter service last Saturday night. (I think I've done my churchly duties for a year, incidentally.)

I learned today that the lovely and talented writer Elaine Viets (she writes the wonderful Dead-End-Job mysteries) had a stroke two days ago. Initially, the prognosis was dire, but she has since undergone surgery, and things are looking up. The word is that Elaine will be able to write again, but evidently her recovery will be long and difficult.

This thing called life can be pretty terrifying.

My prayers go to Elaine and her family.

Things I have Googled today

2007-04-10T19:54:00.000-05:00

1) Home-waxing horror stories. (I love the last one on this page.)

2) Smell-retardant clothing and sprays. (Did you know they even sell odor-control boots? I had no idea.)

3) And finally, the names, habits, and predilections of fallen angels. Of which there are, surprisingly, quite a lot.

All this in the name of research. (Honest, I swear, these are all plot-relevant topics.) And in case you were wondering, no, I am not currently working on the third Gray Whale Inn mystery. That's scheduled to start at the end of June.

And when I was done Googling, I got to join a great group of authors (including fellow Best First nominees Hailey Lind and Sandra Parshall) on a radio show called Murder Must Air, hosted by L.C. Hayden. Who, incidentally, was nominated for an Agatha this year as well. Anyway, the show will be listenable (is that a word?) from the Mystery Writers of America page soon; I'll keep you posted!

P.S. Wrote about 3232 words over the last two days, bringing me up to 45,848. And I'm telling you, the last few days I've just been strapping myself to the laptop and going along for the ride.

Outline? What outline?

P.P.S. I got more good news today, and will share it as soon as I know it's official. And no, I didn't agree to write a fourth book in the next twelve months. I have some shreds of common sense left. Not many, but some.

Hope your days were great, and if you have home-waxing or odor-control-boot stories -- or, come to think of it, direct experience with fallen angels (ex-husbands, perhaps?) -- please do tell.

Ta for now!

I know why they have eggs at Easter!

2007-04-09T16:50:00.000-05:00

It's because we're all egg-shaped the day afterwards.

I avoided chocolate (for the most part, anyway -- admittedly there were a couple of bad moments with the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups), but it was a double-ham-dinner day, and I ate so much of the pink stuff I'm afraid I'm going to start oinking soon. (I also drank about six gallons of water to compensate for the salt, and was tempted last night to resort to elastic waistbands.)

But I went for a walk and wrote my words and had a modest lunch today, so I'm feeling slightly more human.

However, I realized half an hour ago that I'm teaching a class tonight, and that I haven't yet come up with the writing exercises I want to assign. So I have to toddle off and do that now.

Before I go, though, reading-wise, I'm on a France kick right now; after working my way through Peter Mayle's latest, which was fun, I picked up Mireille Guiliano's book French Women for All Seasons (I'll post the link later; this browser won't let me do it). I have many, many things to say about that book, but little time at the moment. For now, though, I will say that thank God the French women I've met have little in common with "The French Woman" as described by Ms. Guiliano, or I would have been tempted to throttle them all with their fashionable scarves. (So attractive! So versatile! So potentially lethal!)

Oh -- and I wrote 1700 words today. In case you were counting. :) (I am, but then again, I'm the one with the deadline. Er, deadlines. Three of them, in fact. Gah! Need chocolate...)

Blog hoonage... who knew?

2007-04-07T16:08:00.000-05:00

So all of a sudden half the planet is headed to Poisoned Pen Letters... and I couldn't figure out why.

But apparently my little post on car hygiene caught the eye of the folks over at Jalopnik, and they included it in yesterday's "Blog Hoonage" post -- which is, as they put it, an "...early afternoon daily feature highlighting the best and oftentimes unnoticed auto-related content in the blogosphere." Of course, if you'd told me two weeks ago that anything I ever wrote would be featured on a car-related blog, I would have thought you were certifiable.

But there you have it.

And thank you, Jalopnik. Gosh, I'm honored!

Back to the mini eggs now...

Electric Avenue?

2007-04-07T15:03:00.000-05:00

Last night, after Susan Rogers Cooper's surprise 60th birthday party (her daughter set the whole thing up, and even ordered a cake that looked exactly like Susan's recently released book Vegas Nerve), I drove my friend and fabulous author Jan Grape home.

Jan, as it happens, lives about 40 miles west of town, and I found myself enjoying the drive through the dark Texas countryside. The highway was flanked by barely glimpsed wildflowers, the flash of fence posts, and the occasional rustic barbecue joint (like Opie's, which Jan tells me is great). The emptiness of it all made me feel like I was far, far away from city life. And the street signs are great: fun, rustic names like "Bob Wire Road" (not barbed wire, mind you), "Haystack Road," and then... quite unexpectedly... "Electric Avenue."

"Electric Avenue?"

Who the heck named a street in the middle of rural Central Texas "Electric Avenue?"

And perhaps more importantly: why?

Was it because the road was the first in the area to have a functioning light bulb? Or is there a renegade early 80s fan lurking among Randy Travis and Patsy Cline lovers? Some lonely woman in love with Eddie Grant, maybe? You can't help but wonder.

One of these days, when it's not 11:00 at night and I'm not almost asleep at the wheel, I'll have to find out what lurks at the end of Electric Avenue.

If I do, I'll let you know.

Oh, and writing? Kids were home yesterday. No writing, but lots of clean laundry. Which is a good thing, b/c in-laws and parents are coming over for dinner, and now that I've done the wash, there are actually places to sit.

And, as I do on Easter Eve every year, I spent a good portion of the day trolling stores for Easter grass; I finally found some at Target, only to come home and discover I'd bought extra last year to avoid having to drive all over town this year.

Duh.

Of course, I also left Target with three sets of little paper lanterns for the back porch, a new broom, a bathing suit for Abby, several shirts, and a few bags of Cadbury mini eggs. For the kids, of course. Not me.

I need a Target chaperone, I think.

Anyway, I'm off to defend the mini eggs now. I hope you all have a wonderful Easter, and that it involves lots of chocolate!

Inkspot

2007-04-05T20:22:00.001-05:00

I realized today (not incidentally because it was my turn to post) that I neglected to tell everyone about Inkspot, a new blog composed of Midnight Ink authors (and including fellow cozy chick JB Stanley, who may actually have more books to write than me in the next year).

So for today's post, simply click here.

Cheers, and hope your days went well. My word count, in case you were wondering, was nonexistent. But I needed a day off. After all, I get to do taxes this weekend! Can't wait...

Someone's car is worse than mine!

2007-04-04T17:58:00.000-05:00

In case you didn't know, I am the proud driver of a minivan, the interior of which is... well, let's just say it's seen better days. This has not, unfortunately, escaped the notice of my extended family; the other day, when I told my son he needed to keep the cap ON the bubbles before getting into car, my charming father said, "But why? It's soap. It can only help."

Har, har, har.

At any rate, as you can imagine, car detailing has been rather low on the list the last several months, behind things like organizing my spice cabinet, doing tons of laundry, blogging, and writing, oh, say, three books in just over a year.

But I do try. Every Friday I lug out the collection of papers and shoes and clothes and as many intact goldfish as I can find. (The upside of all this is that if we were ever stranded somewhere, we'd have pretzels and raisins and goldfish to last us for weeks.)

Nevertheless, I am still a bit sensitive about it.

Which is why my discovery at the Westbank Library today was so marvelous.

It was an older Japanese car, probably from the late 80s, but it wasn't the exterior that caught my attention. It was the interior, the contents of which included (a) an antique magazine rack filled with sun-bleached papers, (b) a wooden arrow, complete with three scraggly feathers, and (c) a hubcap -- that's right, a hubcap, right there on the back seat -- that made it so delightful.

Of course, I didn't want to stare, so I just did a quick visual inventory. But on the way back out, I paused and looked again. There were also seashells, sand, several sunglasses cases, an assortment of books and magazines, a McDonald's bag, two umbrellas, and what might have once been an apple.

It was so satisfying.

How about you? Are you a car neatnik, or more like me?

P.S. I wrote 1600 words today. And am drinking (literarily, anyway) margaritas on the Riverwalk in San Antonio now.

Two Amazing Louises

2007-04-03T22:17:00.000-05:00

So I went and had lunch at my daughter's school today, and as it turned out, I came away with more than just a ham sandwich. (Which was delicious, incidentally, with great chewy bread and lots of tomato slices. But that's beside the point.)

You see, the way it works in my daughter's class is that after the kids eat, they read for a while. And today, as I munched on my sandwich and the teachers oohed and aahed over a bunch of bead necklaces one of the other teachers had made, Abby shared two fascinating books with me.

The first was about Louis Braille. I never knew this until this afternoon, but the creator of Braille wasn't born blind. His father was a saddlemaker, with lots of leatherworking tools around, including an awl, with which three-year-old Louis accidentally poked himself in the eye. Unfortunately, this being in the pre-antibiotic era, the eye became infected; then the infection moved to the other eye, and the poor kiddo went blind. And after last week's little melanoma scare, I found myself tearing up just reading about the poor kid and the awl. What an awful accident! How terrible his parents must have felt -- and how helpless! (Louis didn't lead a charmed life afterwards, either; not long after the blinding accident, his family's house was occupied for a couple of years by Russian soldiers. And he eventually died at 43 of tuberculosis.)

But if little Louis hadn't played with that awl and poked himself in the eye, we wouldn't have Braille. And he made a huge difference for hundreds of thousands -- probably millions, actually -- of people despite his obstacles. Heck -- it was because of his obstacles. I mean, what would have happened if his dad had been, say, a dog groomer? Not that they had dog groomers back then, but you get the idea. Then again, if he'd been running with scissors... Oh, never mind.

When we were done with that book, while I was surreptitiously blowing my nose and wiping my eyes (I'm still a little overwrought, it seems), Abby trotted over with another book, which I read over her shoulder. This one was about Louis Armstrong. According to the book, as a child, he found a gun in his house; when he and some friends took it out and fired some celebratory shots into the air, he was arrested, taken from his family, and sent to the Home for Colored Waifs. (Horrifying. Can you imagine?)

But while he was there, someone invited him to join a little band.

And then gave him a bugle.

And the rest, as they say, was history.

So I left the school with a lot of food for thought this afternoon. I'm not usually much of a biography reader, but maybe I should be; it's amazing what can come out of what seem like the worst of circumstances, isn't it? And what a poignant reminder of how fortunate we all are to live when and where we do.

Okay, enough of the heavy stuff. I'm off to take a bath and read Peter Mayle's Provence A to Z while I pretend I'm really living in a gite in Provence. All I need is a glass of marc to complete the illusion. Not that I've ever had marc, or even know what it is (I haven't made it past 'G' yet), but if I don't fall asleep, I should know in the next few hours.

Hope your days were all fabulous, and for those of you who are writing with me, I did manage to write a speedy 1600 words today, clocking in at somewhere over 41,000 words. And I'm excited about the next scene, which is lovely. How's it going with you?

The Romance of Artichokes

2007-04-02T22:15:00.000-05:00

I'm just now getting around to posting, as the last few days have been chock-full of writing-related engagements, dinners and lunches with relatives, and (of course) more appointments with the pediatrician. (This time it's Ian, who has a nagging cough.)

Anyway, about a half hour ago I got back from teaching a mystery class on a semi-empty stomach. (I was forced to eat Doritos, which I love, but which are horrible for me.) When I came home, I was craving vegetables, so I rooted through my pantry and located a can of artichoke hearts. They're packaged by a Mexican outfit called Luna Rossi, with the intriguing tagline "Romance you can taste."

(Yes, that's right, ladies and gentlemen. We're talking ARTICHOKES. Granted, they're artichoke HEARTS, but still.)

Anyway, I ate the whole can, even though they were disappointingly spotty (despite the promise of being canned "eight hours or less after picking") and more than a bit choky (that wiry hairy stuff). So now my mouth feels like I've been chewing on acid-laced Brillo pads. And if that's what romance tastes like, I'll pass, thank you very much.

But enough about artichokes. I wrote 1400 words or so today, and plan to make up the 100 words I missed tomorrow. I long ago left the outline I made, and am hoping that the new road I'm forging will lead somewhere interesting and in some way related to the beginning of the book. We shall see. And in the meantime, things are moving ahead full-steam on the third Gray Whale Inn mystery, despite the fact that I haven't had a lot of time to think about it. I have decided that this whole two-series thing would be much easier if I had multiple-personality disorder.

At any rate, it's time to de-choke myself with a toothbrush and hit the sack. Sweet dreams everyone, and I'll be back tomorrow!

The entrepreneurial spirit

2007-03-31T12:10:00.000-05:00

One more thing.

I just learned that my children, having been denied the luxury of a lemonade stand, have discovered a new outlet for their money-making instincts.

They're selling doodlebugs door-to-door.

For a nickel apiece.

So far, evidently, they've made 35 cents.

We have very nice neighbors.

Ah, normalcy...

2007-03-31T11:47:00.000-05:00

So nice to be worrying about age-old questions like which color laundry to wash first (Dark? Middle? Light?) rather than imagining catastrophic scenarios involving close family members.

Thank goodness.

This morning, instead of googling terrifying subjects, I'm in my office, listening to the sounds of my children playing on the street (hopefully not in the path of cars) and being thankful that we're not camping, since it rained torrentially and there was an extensive tornado watch last night. If you ever have a drought, ask me to plan a group camping trip in your vicinity, by the way. That will take care of the problem automatically.

On another note, I posted on Killer Hobbies today, on my general hobby-impairedness. Think Hefty bags and orange spray paint. It's a fun blog; I've been meaning to add it to my links section for some time. In fact, I may go do that now.

I realize I've been rather remiss re: word reporting lately. For the record, I did write another 4500 words this week despite my neuroses, putting me at about 37,956 words, or about halfway through. Not that I'm counting or anything. ;)

Thanks again for all your kind thoughts this week, and I hope your weather is as glorious as ours is now that the rain has gone!

Oh -- and if you're in the Austin area and don't have anything planned for tomorrow, please stop by and see me at BookPeople. I'll be there from three to five!

Finally.

2007-03-30T13:48:00.000-05:00

It's not cancer, thank God. But the mole is weird enough (it's more like an adult's abnormal mole than a child's) that the doctor wants to have the area around it excised, and skin checks every six months. I just KNEW there was something wrong with it. I've had a sick feeling in my stomach since I first noticed it. But all's well, that (hopefully) ends well.

And I'm making an appointment for myself TODAY, since Abby and I have the same color skin, and I've got all kinds of... well, let's call them marks of character.

I'm still all jitters. But what a relief not to have to wait all weekend. I don't think I could stand it.

Thank you all so much for all your well wishes. I can't tell you how comforting it's been. Like a warm emotional blanket -- and I've needed one.

Lots of hugs all around from a very relieved Karen

Still waiting.

2007-03-29T22:51:00.000-05:00

So I didn't hear anything today, but spent a good bit more time googling, as a result of which I now own about fifty dollars worth of heavy-duty sunblock. And a new hat.

The upshot of all of this is that the chances of a kiddo between 10 and 14 getting melanoma is like 4 in a million, and there aren't even numbers for kids younger than that, so I'm being completely and entirely irrational.

That being said, I am still a bit on the apprehensive side. Okay, more than a bit on the apprehensive side.

Off to take a valium now. Wait, we don't have any valium. Shoot. What I need is a cozy, and maybe some chamomile tea. And perhaps a frontal lobotomy.

Is there such a thing as a worry gene? Because I think I got it...

Parental paranoia

2007-03-28T11:52:00.000-05:00

Hi, everyone...

Sorry I haven't been on much the last few days; Abby had an unusual mole on her back, and I've been so worried about it (we just had it removed this morning for a biopsy) that I haven't been able to think of anything else.

Which means not much writing, not much blogging... not much of anything but obsessively googling skin conditions and scaring the you-know-what out of myself.

I'll find out more tomorrow or the next day, when the lab results come back. I'm sure it's fine, but it's been scary. And I'm suddenly noticing all the oncology clinics around town.

Hope all is well where you are. More soon...

Karen

Home again home again, jiggety jig

2007-03-25T14:23:00.000-05:00

I'm back. I'm alive, and my children are too.

And yesterday, I had a great signing at Barnes and Noble up in Round Rock (here are a few photos Melissa, who baked muffins -- muffins! -- and brought them to the signing, sent me). Lots of people showed up, we sold out of Murder on the Rocks in the first twenty minutes, and had only one book left when it was all said and done.

The first is with Frank Campbell, who's the incredibly friendly and wonderful Community Relations Manager -- then there's one of Melissa, the muffins, a Cozy Chicks bag, and me, and the gorgeous teenager in the third is Grace (M's daughter). Next time, I promise to try to have action shots, incidentally.

I have a few other photos, too, including one of a delightful little girl named Shelby Jo, but my camera is acting up, so I'll just be thankful that Melissa was on the ball.

At any rate, we did survive San Diego, even though I bashed my head on a helicopter the last day and it still hurts. We got in late Friday night, which could be why I look a bit peaked in the photos. I got up Saturday morning to write, which didn't help -- but I added back in some of those words I'd cut, so I'm a very happy writer now. (As predicted, no writing got done last week.)

Here in Austin, it's bright green and balmy, and spring is in full glory; the bluebonnets are an indigo carpet, with splashes of orange Indian Paintbrush tossed in here and there, the wisteria is perfuming everything, and the spiderwort (weird name, pretty plant) is everywhere. I love Austin in the spring -- in fact, as much as I enjoyed San Diego, coming home was almost the best part. I love it here, I do. Except maybe in August. And July. And September, come to think of it...

Anyway, as I traipsed around the lake today, I was thinking about how Natalie Goldberg once wrote that different cities are her 'angels'. I think Austin is definitely mine. My spiritual center seems to be the trail around Town Lake -- if I'm feeling at all out of kilter, a three-mile-walk will put things back on course. Oh, and the cliff swallows are back -- they leave every October, then come back in March to build their little mud-jug nests under the MoPac bridge. And a Carolina Wren family is nesting in a tin bucket on a shelf outside our sliding glass door; when I peeked into it last night to see if there were any eggs, a rather rumpled looking mommy bird darted out. I don't know who was more startled!

I'm off now, for a party to celebrate my hubby's accomplishments (he was just offered partnership at the architecture firm he works at and recently finished the grueling AIA certification gauntlet), and plan to drink many margaritas.

How's everyone out there?

How's the writing going? (Or not going, as the case may be?)

And also, out of sheer curiosity, what cities are your angels? And why?

Ta for now... it's good to be back!

The carriage has turned into a pumpkin

2007-03-23T00:53:00.000-05:00

It's midnight, and we just got back from Disneyland, and unless Tinkerbell shows up and hits me with a good dose of fairy dust, the blogging will have to wait.

A good time was had by all, and I'll tell you all about Mr. Snofeles and the Ruby Princess tomorrow.

Staggering off to bed now.

Animals and the Caramel-Apple-Thingie

2007-03-20T20:42:00.000-05:00

So, today was the zoo. Which is marvelous. I know it's all about animals, but I couldn't help but drool over the plants -- that papery purple flower I was talking about is statice, I think... and did you know aloes bloom? There are whole gardens of them. And nasturtiums everywhere, cascading down hills in bursts of yellow, orange, and occasionally crimson...

(Can you tell I was almost a botanist instead of a novelist?)

Anyway, not only is the place gorgeous, but it's huge. If you go to the monkey area, pack lots of snacks, because there's a good chance you'll never make it out. I'll bet every night they find dozens of people in there, trapped in aviaries, or doing endless circles around the orangutans. The panda bears were a standout, by the way, although how they eat that bamboo (it looks like they're gumming machetes) is beyond me. They have carnivore-style teeth, evidently, and their ancestors were meat-eaters; I'm dying to know which enterprising bear decided that eating tough, sharp, twenty-foot-tall grass was the way to go. There's no accounting for taste, I guess. Mind you, I like bamboo, too, but I prefer mine stir-fried with lumps of chicken. Oh, well.

It must have been a bear kind of day for me, because the other creature that leaps to mind was a cute polar bear, who was frolicking in the water and slam-dunking a rubber ball. Of course, I was very happy to have a couple of inches of glass between it and me -- I imagine they're much less cute on a glacier when you're by yourself and there isn't a zookeeper and a kiosk selling taco salads right next door. But today it was cute, even though my feet hurt.

And to think tomorrow is Disneyland.

Anyway, even though the rest of the MacInerney clan is out eating Italian, Abby and I are staying at the hotel tonight; I thought Abby was warding off a migraine until a perusal of the room service menu resulted in a request for dessert. (Then she asked if I thought it was okay if she went swimming.)

Migraine or no migraine, she's getting chicken fingers, and is parked in front of the Cartoon Network, which I have mixed feelings about, but am thankful we don't have at home. And the bar is open for another forty minutes, with free drinks. They gave me something that tastes like caramel apples tonight; I'm calling it the "Caramel Apple Thingie," but whatever it is, it's quite tasty, and I'm about to go down and get another one. Then I'll read one of the library books I carted with me; my choices for the evening are Lucky Star and Honeymoon with my Brother, both of which are supposed to be funny; have no idea how good either is, but will report back if one is a winner.

Toddling down for another caramel apple thingie now. Will report on Disneyland and my childhood Mickey Mouse Ears trauma tomorrow...

San Diego... first impressions

2007-03-19T22:27:00.000-05:00

So we made it to the Embassy Suites, right across from Seaport Village, and it's hard to believe that just hours ago we were in Austin. (I think we saw the Grand Canyon on the way here, which was kind of cool -- and I always forget how much desert there is out there.)

Anyway, highlights of the day include a long discussion of the emergency procedures card in the airplane with my son ("I hope we land in the mountains so we can use the emergency exits!"), followed by consumption of six bags of Doritos and some kind of crunchy mixed dried fruit.

We landed -- not in the mountains, to my relief and Ian's disappointment -- and after a brief but stressful ride from the airport (they have Birds of Paradise just growing on street corners here, and also that kind of dry papery purple flower you buy at the florist -- cool!), we arrived at Embassy Suites. Which has a little river running through the lobby (and a long snake of people bellying up to the bar for free booze) but no free internet access. So this is a rather pricey blog entry, but what the hey.

Anyway, in the little river downstairs, there are monster koi, turtles, and a bird-poop-spattered turtle house. The sign calls it "Turtle Town" -- it's a little stone enclosure with an arched entry and a heat lamp -- but Ian looked at it and said, "Look! It's Turtle Church!" Thank God we've made some progress with our haphazard approach to his religious upbringing. At least he thinks reptiles have churches, too.

We ate dinner on the harbor (I had Mahi Mahi on wilted greenery), and now I'm in my room blogging and listening to the sounds of 40s music from a party on the aircraft carrier across the street, punctuated by Ian rushing in and saying, "There's a trolley!" every time one jingles by. Which is approximately every five minutes. I hope he doesn't figure out how to fall out the window.

He's now doing flips on my bed, so I'm going to retire before my laptop crashes to the floor. Which would be most annoying, particularly since I just paid for 4 days of Internet access. In the event that he falls asleep before I do, I'll be back to read all those fabulous comments.

Oh -- one more thing -- it's so jarring seeing the Mexican tiles and style here -- I associate that with inland Texas, not coastal California. But I guess that would explain the name: San Diego.

Tomorrow is zoo day. I'll check back if we make it through without being eaten by lions.

Ta for now!

And one more thing... I do have my camera, but no iPhoto, so I'll post my pics when I get home.

Almost made them all up

2007-03-16T21:16:00.000-05:00

So I'm at 25475 words now, thank the writing gods (just wrote another thousand or so)... if I write both days this weekend, I may be back to 30K -- which is where I was several days ago -- by Monday, just in time to take a week off. (We're going to San Diego next week, and I imagine not a lot of writing will get done. I will, however, get to see Michele Scott! And a lot of animals. And Disneyland.)

Anyway, I'm so relieved at the way the writing has gone, I just had to share.

Have a great Friday night!

Where phobias come from

2007-03-16T14:05:00.000-05:00

So to reward my son for not making me sling him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes in order to get him into the car this morning, I took him to Schlotzky's this afternoon, and then to Town Lake to feed the ducks.

As I was sitting on a rock watching the ducks fight over stale pizza crusts, I overheard an older woman explaining to her grandson why he should not play ring-around-the-cypress tree right at the water's edge. Here's how it went:

Grandma: "Honey, you should stay away from there."

Little boy: "Why?"

Grandma (in a sugary, high-pitched voice): "Really, sweetheart. I think it's time to go."

Little boy: "Why can't I go around the tree first?"

Grandma: "Because if you fell in, I wouldn't be able to get you out before you drowned."

Yes, that's right. Drowned. (The water, incidentally, was about a foot deep.)

I'd love to be a fly on the wall at the poor kid's first swimming lesson.

Anyway, I've got to get another few hundred words in and check the laundry...

Happy Friday, everyone!

Three thousand words later

2007-03-15T18:00:00.000-05:00

I find myself without the energy to write two blog entries. So for today's installment, please go here.

And if you've ever tried Weetabix, please tell me if it tastes as awful as it looks. I'm curious, but not curious enough to drop a couple of bucks on it.

The Austin American-Statesman article

2007-03-14T15:37:00.000-05:00

is up, and you can read it here.

Whew. Am off to make more burnt offerings to the culinary gods. (In other words, I'm going to start dinner.)

On the writing front, I met with my friend Kimberly Sandman this morning and bashed out another 1200 words, which brings me back up to 20K. Now I have to go write 300 more... of course, after I read all of your lovely comments.

And Laura, you are SO far ahead of me. If you feel like writing a few chapters on werewolves and lighthouses just to break up the monotony, drop me a line.... ;)

Why I don't have TV

2007-03-13T18:13:00.000-05:00

So I only had a few minutes to exercise today, which meant instead of walking, I hopped on an exercise bike at the Y. Which has 4 close-captioned TVs to stare at while you're pedaling away.

On TV two, MSNBC was doing a hard-hitting ten minute report.... on American Idol.

That's right. American Idol.

So I switched over to the tube on the left, which turned out to be one of those Christian channels, featuring a forty-ish woman recounting a quiet evening at home with her ex-husband. Apparently on the spur of the moment, right after watching the Simpsons or something, he decided they both needed to die. So he dragged her to the kitchen, stabbed her a few times, let the gas in the burner run for a while, and then lit a match.

Which is horrifying.

But as I'm pedaling away, watching the woman talk, she says, "As I was lying there on the kitchen floor, I knew Jesus had heard my prayers, because suddenly I felt a warmth all through my body."

And all I could think was, gee. It could be Jesus. Or it could be because you were ON FIRE.

I can't tell you anything about the American Idol update -- something about a sexual harassment suit, I think -- but I am pleased to report that the woman in the second story survived and is happily remarried. (Hubby one turned out to be a paranoid schizophrenic and is now in an institution.)

Overall, it's probably a good thing I don't have TV, because I'd spend my days surfing channels and making catty remarks. And not writing. Speaking of writing, evidently my little story about Natalie will in fact appear in the May issue of Portland Magazine. And tomorrow I'll try to post a link to the Statesman, which is running a feature on yours truly. So overall it's a publicitastic week.

On the downside, I axed 10,000 words from Wolf 2 today because I didn't like them. I added another 2,000, but I'm still running a bit behind. (Like at 18,000 words instead of 28,000 words.) Fortunately, if I work a few weekends, I'll be caught up in no time -- besides, I'm feeling much better about the book now, and I may be able to use some of the cut scenes later. And I've decided to put in some calf-roping! Do you know anything about calf-roping? I don't, but I hope to soon!

How's your writing going? Even if you wrote nothing, your daily net count still beats mine. :)

RSS etc.

2007-03-12T22:26:00.000-05:00

So, despite my substantial technical ignorance, I think I've managed to get both RSS and e-mail subscription options going (a few of you have asked about it). You can find it over in the links section. Gosh, I hope I did it right. The downside of this, of course, is that I'm going to have to stop editing my posts six times a day (I always read them after they've published and find things to tweak).

If you try one or both of these, please let me know how it goes. If it works, I'll add it to the Cozy Chicks blog, too.

Oh -- I wrote some flash fiction today, about Natalie and Emmeline. With luck, it will be in Portland Magazine this May. And here's the article from the Picayune.

Ian's better, by the way, and tomorrow I get to write with my friend Kimberly. More soon...

K

Not flu after all... and thickening plots

2007-03-12T08:30:00.000-05:00

So Ian's better, but still not at the camp I scheduled for him this week. Unfortunately, that throws my schedule off; but that may be a good thing, as I had a few plot 'ahas' yesterday that I probably need to go back and work in. Plus, I'm having fun reading about lighthouses.

Still, regarding my little plot issues; you'd think this whole book-writing thing would become easier, wouldn't you? I guess it does, but there's still a disturbing element of uncertainty in each book. On the other hand, I guess that's why I'm a bookwriter and not an accountant. Although there's a certain amount of uncertainty in my accounting, too... ;)

And my poor other half has been cursed by the tire gods. Yesterday, he got three flats on his bike; today, he woke up to discover his car had a flat tire. And he has to drive to Houston. I can hear the tire wrenches on the driveway as I type.

I hear the five-yr-old stirring, so I'm off for now... hope everyone else has escaped this affliction (which, incidentally, is NOT flu, thankfully).

Oh, and because I am constitutionally incapable of saying 'no', I signed up for another blog the other day. It will go live soon, and I'll let you know the details.

Karen (who is off to go looking for her misplaced common sense)

Flu and writer's block

2007-03-10T20:20:00.000-06:00

Unfortunately, despite the vaccination, I am afraid our little boy has come down with the dreaded flu; even on Motrin, his fever was at 104 this afternoon. Scary. It promises to be a long night, filled with every-three-hour temperature checks and medicine doses. I should have known it was coming; after all, it is spring break. ;)

Before I was aware of the high fever situation, though, my sweet husband kicked me out of the house this morning to go write, and I'm glad he did; I was feeling a bit stuck, which always makes me nervous, but by sitting through it and doing a lot of staring into space (and writing in fits and starts), it finally started flowing again. It's funny; no matter how many times I work through these things, it always comes as a surprise when I sit there and bang my head against the wall and it eventually shakes free. (The writing, I mean, not my head.) My word count is a hair over 26,000 right now, which puts me at approximately 1/3 complete. Which is a good thing, since my dance card is looking rather full right now.

I also spent some time at the allergist's office Friday putting together a calendar for getting the books I'm under contract for finished comfortably. (Thank God I had the laptop with me, or I'd have been forced to read tabloids for forty minutes instead. Hmm. Perhaps I'll leave the laptop home next time.)

Anyway, assuming I did the math right (must recheck this, come to think of it), I was pleased to discover that even writing 4,000 words a week, with a week off for spring break, I will still finish with time to spare. I'll put in a more aggressive weekly goal, but I like having that "minimum" there to make sure that even with a few chaotic, potentially disease-ridden weeks tossed in there -- and, heaven forbid, some rewriting -- I'll still finish with some time to spare. And I won't have to chain myself to a desk to do it. Unless, of course, we get hit by some four-week flu virus or I break both arms and can't type. But that would never happen. Right?

Right? (Please let me be right. Please.)

Anyway, enough of the morbid thoughts, and back to the topic at hand. Okay, I've forgotten the topic at hand. But I will report that this afternoon, to celebrate blasting through another mini-writer's-block, I stopped by the library, where I picked up A Year with the Caliph, a book about a woman who moved to Casablanca (which I subsequently discovered I already own), a book on lighthouses (I'm looking for a good lighthouse story -- if you know of any, please tell me) and a book called Get Out of Your Own Way, which is supposed to help people "reach their full potential," etc. I don't know why I read these books, but I do. Hope springs eternal, I guess? I picked this particular one up because, like most writers, I seem to be my own biggest obstacle some days. I'll let you know how it goes.

I'm off to check on my little boy's temperature again. I hope you all escape the flu, and that you had productive and glorious days!

Oh -- and for some reason, there's a june bug colony on our front yard. The buzzing is so loud it sounds like you're standing next to a bee hive. Very strange -- there are hundreds of them, but only in my yard. I wonder why?

very sleepy

2007-03-10T02:11:00.000-06:00

and computer hijacked by word-whomp-playing friend this evening. Just now reclaimed it, in fact.

I did write today, though, about 1500 words. And briefly lost my keys. And learned that Episcopal churches don't generally feature minarets. (Which I think I knew, come to think of it, since minarets are usually for mosques.)

Having accomplished all that, I'm going to bed now.

More tomorrow.

Another visit to the Gray Whale Inn

2007-03-08T13:51:00.000-06:00

I just got off the phone with my agent, Jessica, and am thrilled to announce that I will be returning to the Gray Whale Inn in the next few months!

Although I have no idea what the title of the third book will be yet, I do know it will be out next summer. (As in 2008, not 2007 -- I'm fast, but I'm not that fast.) I'm already playing around with what will happen -- I think there will be light recipes (including the infamous lemon berry souffle muffin recipe) in it, and possibly a lighthouse element. I love lighthouses. Why are they so magical? So mysterious and alluring and lonely...

Anyway, I'll stop nattering on about lighthouses now, since it's time to pick up Mr. "You-Don't-Make-the-Rules-of-Me." :)

But I'm very excited, and am once again googling plane fares. Research is a very important element of writing, after all... as is copious lobster consumption. Stimulates the brain cells.

Ta for now (I only wrote 800 words or so, and will have to do a two-fer later)...

By the way -- if you have any ideas of what you might like to happen, please let me know; I'm always trolling for interesting plot twists.

K (who's dreaming about blueberries and sea glass already)

Why can I not operate a hairdryer?

2007-03-07T19:14:00.000-06:00

So I got my hair cut today, and as always, Judy spent about fifteen minutes with a hairdryer, and I came out with a perfect hairstyle that will last approximately 24 hours.

At which point I will wash my hair and attempt to replicate her results.

Which is why most days I wear my hair back in a clip.

What is it with stylists and hair dryers? I know they've had tons of training, but there seems to be an element of magic in there, too. I have watched as Judy wields the brush and dryer. I have attempted to learn. I have repeatedly tried to use the same techniques at home. With the result that my head always winds up looking like a haystack that had a close shave with a tornado.

Perhaps it's because I declined to spend $140 on a dryer that Judy said would 'change my life' and instead dropped $19.99 on a Target special. But whatever it is, my hair looks fabulous today, and I'm going to enjoy it.

Tomorrow I can put it back in a barrette.

Oh -- and due to hair and other appointments, I have written a whopping 400 words today. And I'm serving lunch at my daughter's school tomorrow. Not good.

Grrr.

P.S. This morning, when I told my friend (who happens to be a photojournalist) that I was going to get my hair cut, he blinked at me and said "Didn't the editor come yesterday?" When I told him that yes, she had, he pointed out that most people would get the haircut prior to the visit from a photographer. But honestly. Who has time for hair when you're waging battle with your oven?

Muffined Out

2007-03-06T20:44:00.000-06:00

Here are the stats for the last 24 hours:

Hours of sleep: 4
Muffins baked: 90
Calories consumed: approximately 200,000, possibly more
Words written: 0

As you may have surmised, delightful food editor (and food stylist extraordinaire) Kitty Crider and her photographer Amber came over today. I am pleased to report that the ceiling did not in fact cave in; the truth is, everything went great, at least from my perspective. Once I was sure my strata wasn't going to bottom out and that my muffins weren't going to implode, it was fun; Kitty has so much energy she makes me look lethargic. And that's saying something.

Best of all, my recalcitrant lemon berry souffle muffin recipe came around. I finally found a fix at 11 p.m. last night. After 72 rather spectacular failures, two bags of frozen raspberries, and two pints of fresh raspberries. I plan on taking the less-photogenic batches to a food bank tomorrow.

I'd write more, but I'm so stuffed with muffins and strata and coffeecake I'm finding it hard to move.

Melissa, the article will be in next Wednesday's Statesman.

Would love to know if someone somewhere got something written today. It would give me hope. Waddling off to bed now...

It's National Procrastination Week!

2007-03-05T14:24:00.000-06:00

For those of you who noticed I didn't post yesterday, it's in celebration of National Procrastination Week, an event I heard about on KUT this morning. Okay, so obviously that's not really the truth, but it could be. And I did write my 1500 words today, by the way, but since the Statesman will be at my house tomorrow, I don't have high hopes for Tuesday's word production.

Oh -- and I must tell you, this morning I saw a pick-up truck advertising a business I never in a million years would have thought of: "Bookkeeping for Truckers."

Seriously.

Can you say niche marketing?

Anyway, the real reason I didn't blog yesterday is that before church, I saw a raccoon sleeping in a pile of leaves outside my kitchen window. We went out and took a few shots (with the camera, not a rifle); when we got back a few hours later, he was still there.

He's absolutely adorable, but was having a hard time moving, and was very shaky. We called Wildlife Rescue, and with the help of a have-a-heart trap my mother-in-law lent us and a can of tuna, we lured him in, and I drove him up to the wildlife rehabilitator's house in Round Rock yesterday afternoon. Unfortunately, she diagnosed him with distemper. The survival rate is only 5%, which makes me sad. I'm keeping my fingers crossed; but if nothing else, at least we made his last few days a little more comfortable, I hope.

Of course, Round Rock is close to IKEA, so I had to stop there, too, and now we have lots of new rag rugs and table runners, a new salad bowl, and a ton of Swedish cheese and jams.

I am SUCH a sucker.

But back to the raccoon; I'm going to call the lovely woman who took him (her name is Karen, too) later this week for an update on our cute little masked bandit. Send your good thoughts his way! (And my way, too, please, so I don't burn my muffins in front of God and everyone tomorrow.)

I saw your great comments, by the way, and will be back after I pick Ian up from school. And bake a batch of muffins...

A good day

2007-03-03T19:23:00.000-06:00

Today was a lot of fun! I signed at my home B&N, which is always a treat. Of course I saw lots of friends, writing and otherwise (including my barista pals Tom, Larry and Lamar, who moseyed over and bought books). And as I always do at these events, I even got to make some new ones! The picture at right is of Jo Virgil, Community Relations Manager extraordinaire, and yours truly, by the way.

Didn't get a whole lot done writingwise, but it's Saturday, so that's okay. I did, however, realize that I'm going to have to redo a scene I wrote last week -- and thanks to my hubby Eric, I think I know what to do to fix it.

While I was at the store, I did pick up two more books in Robin Hobb's excellent fantasy series; although sometimes I have a hard time getting past the covers of fantasy novels (I know, I know, you're not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but all those maidens with sultry eyes and barely concealed bosoms do get a little old), I've been trying to read more of it, since some of the work I'm doing involves what's called 'world-building'. And it's always helpful to see how other writers do things.

But it's a happy coincidence that I picked up one of Ms. Hobb's Tawny Man books a couple of months ago, because her characters are moving and absolutely convincing. She's a powerful writer, and her characterizations are so strong I think of them as real. I made the mistake of reading the last trilogy of the series first, but I'm going back to the beginning now, and she's beguiled me again (although I can see the progression in her writing).

But they're books I'm relishing, and I will be sad to read the last of them. Hope she's writing more; but they're doorstoppers.

It's fun reading widely and keeping an open mind; you never know what you'll encounter next!

TGIF

2007-03-02T21:09:00.000-06:00

My favorite quote of today was from my 7-year-old daughter, as she put a 1.5-pound block of chocolate into my shopping basket at Central Market:

"But mom, dark chocolate helps prevent cancer! We have to buy it!"

I admire the sentiment, but I've got to wonder... where do these little tidbits come from?

We compromised on a Dairy Milk bar (one of the big ones), of which I consumed about 2/3.

It's been a long, chauffeur-filled, edit-filled day. I finally tackled the very last (for now) edits on Howling at the Moon; i.e. making sure everything I did worked, fixing the fact that one of my characters was surprised by the same information two chapters in a row, adding another steamy 700 words, and fixing it so that the chapters are of relatively equal length. Sort of. Well, closer than they were, anyway.

Which is time consuming, especially when you're using the "find" feature and have to retype "chapter" every time you're looking for the next chapter heading. (I had replaced "Camry" with "BMW" earlier in the day, and every time I pulled up the find and replace tool, it still said "Camry," so I had to retype "chapter" every single time. No idea why, but with 40-plus chapters, it got a bit annoying. Note to self: complain to Microsoft.)

So I'm sending it off on Monday, and I'm sure I will have more edits once Charlotte (my editor) goes through it, but at least I can focus on the second book again. Which will be lovely, and far preferable to changing previous work, which always results in continuity problems. And chapter length issues.

My dear friend Lindsey was supposed to be coming in tonight from New York, but I found out her flight is canceled, so I'm a bit disappointed. I was looking forward to her company at my signing tomorrow; I haven't seen her for like six years. (I even washed the sheets for her!)

And for some reason, I am convinced that my ceiling will fall in while the reporter from the Statesman is at my house. Or that my coffee cake will implode. Or that any number of catastrophic events will occur.

At any rate, somebody is yelling in the hall, so I'm off. How was YOUR day?

What a day!

2007-03-01T14:27:00.000-06:00

Good things come in threes, I suppose. First the Agatha, last week. (It's still sinking in, by the way.)

And then I had an interview with Dane Anderson of the Westlake Picayune this morning; they're doing a feature in next week's paper. When I got home from that, the fabulous food editor Kitty Crider of the Austin American-Statesman sent me an e-mail; they'll be doing a feature in the Food and Life section of the paper. Which means they'll be taking photos of me. In my kitchen. Which thankfully now has tiles instead of ripped-up wallboard as a back splash. Because if it didn't, I'd be canvassing everyone in Austin to let me call their home my own for the day. I can see it now. "Of course this is my kitchen, Kitty. I just can't remember where I hid the flour!"

I'm going to try and write now.

But I have one more thing to say: Laura, when I wrote my first book, I averaged significantly less than 1,000 words a day, and that was a real accomplishment. These days, it comes easier -- but I've written over 1,500 pages of fiction, which helps. But any word count at all -- even 100 words -- is something to be proud of. Any words are good words. :) Hemingway considered 500 words a good day.

Just keep the faith!

I am not in a coma. And my post office peeve.

2007-02-28T18:53:00.000-06:00

Well, I hit 20K today, which is about 25%, and I just had a glass of wine to celebrate. It was Gruener Veltliner, incidentally, not the Riesling with undertones of turpentine and a strong plastic finish I tried to drink the other night. And it was quite nice with the lemon pepper salmon.

But word counts aside, I'm not exactly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. In fact, I am almost embarrassed to admit that I fell asleep sprawled across a metal mesh picnic table at Abby's school. I have no idea how many people saw me drooling, but I shudder to think. (Ian's been waking up in the middle of the night the last few nights, reminding me -- as if I needed a reminder -- of why I am happy with two, and only two, kids.) In fact, if it hadn't started sprinkling, I'm pretty sure I'd still be in a semi-coma at the school playground, with the kids seeing how much pea gravel they could fit into my ears before I woke up.

But with the help of the rain and a few shoves from Abby, I did manage to pry myself up (I still have mesh marks on my left cheek). And this evening, while I was frying up a flank steak and a couple of salmon filets -- it was another what-fell-out-of-the-freezer night chez MacInerney -- Maggie Sefton called, which was an unexpected delight. Truth be told, I forgot to call her this morning, due to my sleep-deprivation-induced haze. But she forgave me, and told me about her great trip to New York, meeting all the bigwigs and impressing the socks off them. Her books are selling like hotcakes. I'm so happy for her; she's worked so hard for so long, and it's wonderful to see good things coming her way.

And something about that last paragraph made me think of another thing I wanted to talk about. Why, I don't know, but since I spent a good forty-five minutes waiting in line (with mesh prints on my face and two bored and active children hanging from me like ripe fruit), I guess it's still a bit fresh in my mind.

Traditionally, there is a long wait at post offices. Like, twenty to twenty-five minutes at the least, if you go to the one I go to. What I want to know is, would it be too much to ask that one use this time for things like, say, selecting the envelope one would like to use for one's correspondence? Or, perhaps, writing the address of the intended recipient on said envelope? Or maybe even investigating the certified/return receipt requested options before approaching the desk with six piles of paper whose intended destinations include Tasmania, Hong Kong and East Burlington, Timbuktu?

Ah, well. Next time, I'll just bring a paperback -- and about forty lollipops for my kids. They can stick the half-eaten ones to the bottoms of the people with stacks of certified mail for Tasmania, who are on their cell phones trying to make sure they've got the right zip code.

I'm off to make sure my son doesn't drown himself in the tub.

How was your day?

You know you're a mystery writer when...

2007-02-27T21:03:00.000-06:00

Sorry to be blogging so late, but tonight was my critique group, and I just got home; they liked my chapter, thank goodness, and I liked theirs. (I'll tell you more about my writing buddies soon; they're interesting people with interesting stories.)

Today was a better day on the work front; I got in 1600 words -- hooray! Because I'm time-impaired, I also spent a good portion of the day thinking it was Wednesday, and that I only had two days left to catch up on yesterday's shortfall. Imagine how delighted I was at 4:00 when I realized it was still Tuesday!

Perhaps I should pay more attention to the calendar.

And what a Tuesday it was... after writing, I met with Melissa (you've seen her comments here before, and here's a photo I took of her at Lou Neff Point) for lunch at Schlotzky's and a walk on Town Lake. (She even showed me her son's short film, Diss the Miss -- what a treat!)

I met Melissa last year at a signing; she brought a plate of the most wonderful rhubarb muffins, which I'm going to ask her to give me the recipe for so that I can post it. Today, while we were walking, Melissa told me she'd spent the Christmas holidays in Connecticut, with lots of snow. Here's a snippet of the conversation:

Melissa: Anyway, I told everyone else I was hiking with to go ahead of me. So there I was, all by myself, and it was just gorgeous, with the evergreens, and the snow... a perfect day.

Karen: It sounds just beautiful.

Melissa: And I'm walking along there, thinking to myself, This is just like a scene out of a book. Only, if this was a novel, I'd turn the corner and find...

Karen: A dead body.

Melissa: (looking at me strangely) A dead body? Actually, no. I was thinking of a handsome man.

Karen: (chuckling uncomfortably) Of course. That would be great, too! Ha, ha, ha. A dead body. What was I thinking? Oh, look -- there's a woodpecker!

Despite my murderous inclinations, Melissa did agree to have lunch with me again -- and bake another recipe for my March 24 signing in Round Rock. So all's well, that ends well. Except for the dead guy in the snow.

Now I've told you about my day... how was yours?

Not the most productive day

2007-02-26T18:28:00.000-06:00

Well, so far today I'm topping at around 500 words, which really wasn't where I wanted to be... BUT I did get to eat donuts with four wonderful Barnes and Noble Community Relations Managers, so that was a good thing. (Gosh, I'm starting to sound like Martha.)

Then I did some press release stuff. And ate lunch. And only then did I drag my sorry derriere to the coffee house to write for about 45 minutes before going for a walk. (Can't miss that walk!)

But the plum blossoms are blooming! They smell heavenly. I miss the apple blossoms, blowsy and pink, of my childhood... but now at least I have bluebonnets. And plum blossoms, of course. I do like spring blooms, but they are so brief, and when they go it is a chilling (perhaps that's not the word) reminder of the brutal summer to come...

I'll check in later. Hope everybody's day was more productive than mine.

Karen's handy wine tips

2007-02-25T19:05:00.000-06:00

I know what you're thinking. Shouldn't Michele Scott be the one talking about wine? But believe it or not, every once in a while I do crack open a bottle... and even less frequently, I manage to open one that doesn't smell and taste like skunk-flavored vinegar. So here, for your edification, are two handy tips I've gleaned from my wine experiences of the past 24 hours:

Tip one: If you are invited to a church getting-to-know-you dinner, make sure you have something other than Il Bastardo or Menage a Trois on hand to take with you. (I didn't, and went for the Menage a Trois. Eric kept trying to pass it off as "Trinity" wine, but I don't think they bought it.)

Tip two: If you're in Sam's Club looking for a Riesling, and one of the people in blue smocks recommends a bottle with a screw top that's "a special offer" for $4.88, do not be tempted. I repeat. Do not be tempted.

I would type more, but I need to go wash my mouth out with bleach.

Oh, and word count? Zip. Zero. Nada. Zilch. The big fat O.

But tomorrow is another day...

The news

2007-02-24T15:40:00.000-06:00

First, I did write about 900 words this morning (I thought it was less, but my word count meter was acting up, so that was a pleasant surprise).

And much more importantly, I got word two days ago that Murder on the Rocks was nominated for an Agatha Award for best first novel.

I am blown away.

Three-and-a-half years ago I sat on the futon on my office, screwed up my courage, and wrote the first few paragraphs of a mystery novel. I figured it would probably never see anything but the bottom desk drawer, but I decided to give it my best shot and write the book I'd always wanted to read.

And now, almost four years later, not only is that book (and its sequel) on the shelves, but it's been nominated for an Agatha.

I guess some dreams really do come true.

I hope to see everyone at Malice this spring. Wild horses couldn't keep me away. :)

May all your weekends are wonderful -- mine is shaping up pretty darned fantastically so far -- and thank you so much to everyone who put in a vote for Natalie and the Gray Whale Inn.

I'm honored beyond belief. And stunned. Did I mention stunned?

Off to go and pinch myself again...

Karen

Everything but what I really want to say

2007-02-23T11:45:00.000-06:00

Well, I haven't written a single word yet today, which is ridiculous, but I hope to amend that in the next few minutes.

For now, though, I'll share with you a few notable events/discoveries of the past 24 hours:

1) Somewhere in Austin there exists a woman with the words VEGAN POWER tattooed on her shins. In red. In 1.5-inch type. (I saw her on the trail yesterday. Presumably she paid to have this done. Why? Why? Why?)

2) Tucked in my freezer, right between the niblets and the parkerhouse rolls, is a Tupperware bowl full of rubber bands. Why, you ask, are there rubber bands in my freezer? It was a mystery to me, too. But the answer, according to my five-year-old son, is that putting rubber bands in the freezer prevents premature spoilage. Who knew?

3) I got a phone call yesterday with some news I'm dying to share, but can't. Yet. But will as soon as I can. Like, the moment I get the green light.

Okay. Back to the werewolves. Which reminds me: what is it that Martha Stewart says? "It's a good thing?" I need to know, but have no TV.

Ciao for now,
K

Back in the saddle

2007-02-22T13:45:00.000-06:00

Well, I got back to Wolf 2 today (maybe I'll call it On the Prowl), and despite a slow start this morning, I am happy to report that I am at 15,064 words, which I think is an increase of around 1,900 words. I kind of lost track of the count somewhere. At this rate, if my kids didn't get sick and spring break wasn't hovering around the corner, I could have this book done in about a month! Of course, that won't happen, but it's fun to think about.

I'm going to keep this brief, because (a) it's my Cozy Chicks day and (b) I just wolfed down (har, har) about a third of a stale King Cake and need to do some kind of exercise if I want to be able to button my jeans, but I am thrilled to be writing again.

Now I just have to come up with a topic for my CC post. Hmmm. Maybe that post I had in mind earlier this week: When Bad Things Happen to Good Characters.

I might just do that...

At any rate, enough about me. How's everyone else? Debra, how's the editing? Laura, how's the writing?

UPDATE: I did post it: you can find it here. Ta for now!

Town Lake on a spring day

2007-02-21T21:44:00.000-06:00

Well, today was glorious, I tell you. Just glorious.

After a lovely morning reworking Howling at the Moon (I only increased the word count by 600 or so, but plan to get back to Wolf 2 tomorrow), I put my running shoes on and decided to give myself a treat: a turkey sandwich at the Schlotzky's right next to Town Lake, here in Austin. So for almost an hour, I sat outside with a book of travel essays and a sandwich, the spring sun cascading down and the sweet and elusive smell of pansies all around (they were such a brilliant yellow I had to take a picture). Oh, and only after I ate a chocolate chip cookie did I notice all the people walking around with smudgy foreheads and remember that it's Ash Wednesday and that I had considered giving up chocolate for lent. Or is it Lent? Oh well, there's always next year...

Despite my chocolate faux pas, I then did one of my favorite things; I hit the trail around the lake, drinking in the sunshine. I don't know if you've ever visited Town Lake, but I've probably walked thousands of miles around it over the years; it's almost a sacred place for me. I know where the wild onions grow, and the dewberries -- and of course the poison ivy. (Men never believe me when I tell them they're standing in it. I swear. Women, on the other hand, usually thank me profusely for alerting them. Why is that?)

Anyway, in addition to all that natural beauty, I always find one or two things that are unusual. Today's standouts included a three-year-old boy with what appeared to be a large tattoo on his lower back (and I mean the real thing, not the Daffy Duck kind you get at children's parties). I also saw this dog dish. And the question that leapt to my mind is: was it really necessary to label it?

Despite the warm air (it hit 80 today), though, the flowers were few and far between. Even the clump of paperwhites that grows next to one of my 'thinking benches' is already played out, but the turtles were everywhere, basking in the warmth. I caught a bunch of them piled on a log (they all plopped off when they noticed me.)

A little later, I stopped at Lou Neff Point, another of my favorite spots, which unfortunately lost a lot of its wisteria during recent trail renovations, but is still a lovely shady bower in summer. It's a gorgeous, peaceful place to sit -- the water laps at the pilings, the lesser scaups and coots (the little black duck-like things you may or may not be able to see in the photo) dot the water in winter, and the sycamores and pecans frame the Austin skyline over the lake.

So it was a wonderful afternoon, and as I finished up and headed off to pick up Ian, I was thinking -- as P.G. Wodehouse wrote -- that "God was in his heaven and all was right with the world." Just as I was reflecting that I couldn't think of a more lovely place to be than Austin on this particular afternoon, a woman pushing a stroller passed by me and said to her walking companion, "I really wish I could go to Iowa."

Iowa?

Really?

Anyway, I'm hoping to hit the trail again tomorrow; but not before I write another 1500 words on Wolf 2. The edits are done (hallelujah) and I'm back in the saddle again, so Laura, keep those word counts posted!

I hope you all had a lovely day too, wherever you are...

Karen

oh, for a normal day

2007-02-20T15:58:00.000-06:00

Although I like to consider myself a bit of a free spirit, lately I've realized that I'm very much a creature of habit, particularly when it comes to writing. My perfect day is this:

Get up at an ungodly (for me, anyway) hour
Drink coffee, make lunches, drink more coffee, take healthy children to school or drug them so that no one at school will know they're not healthy. (Ha, ha. Just kidding, of course.... would never stoop to such a low level, unless of course there was a major deadline.)
Go to coffee shop, write from 8:30 to 12-ish (or until 1500 words complete -- this includes chatting time, which is evidently an integral part of my morning writing)
Go home, eat lunch, check e-mail, blog, do other household tasks
Exercise from 1:30 - 2:30
Resume parenting duties until bedtime.

The problem happens when I schedule other events in there, or have things like page proofs due. Or children who start projectile vomiting. Like today, in fact! The kids, who were a bit under the weather last night, went to school late; right after dropping them off, I went to a marvelous talk I wouldn't have missed for the world, then gave a talk to my daughter's second grade this afternoon (I got to wear hats from the dress-up box). Then I picked everyone up and finished reviewing the page proofs for Beads of Doubt, which are, in fact, due today. (I just sent them.)

In short, my word count is a big fat zero, and I'm feeling more than a bit discombobulated. If that's the word I want. (I did, however, squeeze in a 20-minute walk.) Now it's time to read chapters for the critique group tonight, which fortunately is pleasurable work. And I can hear the dishwasher calling me...

But tomorrow should be normal.

I hope.

When did I become so set in my ways? And when do you all write?

almost forgot

2007-02-19T17:19:00.000-06:00

I almost forgot... the web site is finally updated, thanks to my wonderful designer Thea Eaton!

Cross that one off the list...

(If I made any snafus, please let me know!)

Things to be thankful for

2007-02-19T17:15:00.000-06:00

I was considering doing a post called "When bad things happen to good characters" today, but I just got back from the YMCA, where I spent two hours supervising my kids swimming, and something struck me.

As I sat on a rather hard plastic bench admiring my children's cannonballs and semi-handstands, a young man with very limited mobility was wheeled in by a young woman. After a bit of orchestration, she and another woman lifted him from his wheelchair into the water, saying, "Are you ready to move a little bit?"

The look of delight on the young man's face when they lowered him into the water was a marvelous thing.

I sometimes overlook what a great gift it is simply to be able to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water, or fold a load of laundry, or cook dinner. Or step outside and let the wind blow through my hair while I stroll the neighborhood. It's moments like the one I experienced this afternoon that remind me of that.

So as I watched the kids, my attention kept drifting to the young man, cradled in a kind woman's arms, being swirled around the pool, weightless. Moving in ways that are usually denied to him. And I'll tell you, his joy was contagious.

He also -- in his own way -- reminded me of two things: one, we are very, very fortunate just to be here, and can find joy no matter what obstacles life throws our way. And two, little things can really make a difference in others' lives -- as the assistance of the two women today did.

Now, having waxed philosophical for a few minutes, I'm off to do a load of towels -- and spend a few moments being grateful that I can. I'll write the post I had in mind this morning later on this week.

I hope you are all having a wonderful day!

Whew.

2007-02-18T18:04:00.000-06:00

What a weekend. A mega-grocery shop followed by moving furniture in San Antonio yesterday, a trip to Temple today... and I've just now managed to find my living room floor. As you can imagine, it has not been a particularly word-rich weekend, at least as far as my manuscript is concerned.

Am taking a two minute break while dinner (Scarborough Faire chicken, which smells fabulous and involves -- not surprisingly -- parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme) finishes up.

I am going to attempt to get up at 6:45 tomorrow to lock myself in my office and write before the kids get up. But I also have to reread the ms I just edited, to see if I need to do more.

Am also hoping to get to the gym at some point, but since I think the Y is closed (grr) I may be reduced to doing jumping jacks while watching Sex in the City in my TV room. Tomorrow night, when the kids are asleep, of course. I'd get another video, but the library will also be closed. Double grrr.

I was thinking about this; I think I'm unusual for a writer in that I have a bit of an extroverted streak. (Although the pendulum swings to the other end of the spectrum, as well, particularly after a busy, people-intense weekend like the one I've just gone through.) Where do all of you fall on the spectrum?

P.S. For those of you who asked for the book map, I realized just yesterday that it's mystery-centered. It is easy to adapt for other kinds of books, though -- tune in later this week, and I'll tell you how. I'd do it now, but the timer's going off...

K

Venice dreams

2007-02-17T08:54:00.000-06:00

I do not understand dreams. I just woke up from one in which we lived in a noisy apartment at a huge 410 interchange in San Antonio. And in which we had bought tickets to go to Venice for a week in March, and (incomprehensibly, but that's how dreams are, I guess) forgotten about them.

The only thing I can figure is that we're supposed to help my parents move some furniture to San Antonio today, and I read Candy Calvert's blog entry about crying during an unexpected second honeymoon in Venice.

Dreams are such strange things, aren't they?

Writer's block and hats. (There is a connection. I promise you.)

2007-02-16T13:17:00.000-06:00

Okay.

So I know I started this whole tracking words, etc. thing a couple of weeks ago, and then had to backpedal this week while I went back to juice up a manuscript. (I have written 5,000 words of fiction -- primarily romantic in nature -- this week, in case you were missing the counts. I'm hoping I did what I set out to do, but may have to go back and address it a third time. Fingers crossed that that is not the case.)

Anyway, assuming that my rewrite is in fact done for now, I will be back on track on Monday. Well, Tuesday, really, thanks to President's Day. (Aaargh. Stupid school schedules.) On my new book. Which is languishing at around 13,000 words, and which I was hoping would be at least 20K long by now.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about today.

What I really want to address is the two hats an author wears. Or at least might consider trying to wear if she's feeling stuck. (See, I told you there was a connection!)

I had lunch with a fellow author just a few minutes ago -- she's written mainly SF and fantasy, but got an idea for a mystery recently, and wanted to talk with me about how to go about making it happen. She's got great ideas, as it turns out, with lots of twists and turns and interesting characters -- but when she pulled out the document I'd sent her -- ten blank pages punctuated only by chapter headings -- I remembered suddenly how daunting the whole concept of writing a book can be. Blank page syndrome. Only instead of filling one, you're supposed to fill about 300.

So I told her what I tell anybody who asks, and even occasionally people who don't. (I know I've talked about this before, but if you're a writer who suffers occasional writer's block, it's really important, so bear with me.)

Whenever I come up against the "Oh my God I have no idea what to write" wall -- which happens to all of us -- I step back from what I'm working on and split my writer self into two halves. Or two hats, as the case may be: the planner, and the scene-writer. The planner comes up with the scenes that need to happen -- enough scenes, hopefully, to fill a book. Then she lays them out for the scene-writer, as in "These three things need to happen in chapter one."

The scene-writer, on a given day, looks at the assignment the planner has set for her, sits down, and says, "All I have to do today is get this person from point A to point B and have her car blow up when she leaves the parking lot." Or something (hopefully) equally interesting.

The scene-writer doesn't have to worry about what happens in chapter 24, or even five pages down the line from what she's writing. She just needs to finish her assignment for the day. And if something interesting happens during the writing of that assignment? She pitches it back to the planner, who can incorporate it into the whole plan and adjust future assignments to compensate.

Now, some people are 'pantsters' -- seat-of-the-pants writers. And I am becoming more of one as time goes on. But when I'm feeling stuck, I just go right back to my planner/scene-writer split until things get going again. Because even if I write the worst scene ever written, at least I've got something to work with. If I throw in the towel and go to the movies, I'll have nothing to dissect, and I'll have a stomach-ache from all the Milk Duds I ate to distract myself from the fact that I'm not writing. Or maybe that's just me.

I have a document I use in my classes called a 'book map,' which helps my personal planner put things together. If you're interested in having a copy, feel free to e-mail me (karen@karenmacinerney.com) and I'll forward it to you.

For now, though, I'm off to exercise and then pick up my kiddo. I hope everyone is doing well and has exciting weekend plans. I don't, unfortunately; my planner is limited to scenes lately, alas. But who knows? Maybe someone will whisk me off to Bermuda.

I'll keep you posted...

And by the way, how's YOUR writing going? Was it a good week? A great week? A Milk Dud week? Inquiring minds want to know.

Brrr.

2007-02-15T11:02:00.000-06:00

So it's a measure of how much I like my friend Melanie that when she called this morning to ask if I wanted to go walk, I exchanged my jeans and sweater for sweatpants, a pair of my husband's long underwear (I wish I was kidding) and a ski jacket. Because the wind chill was 22, which is unheard of in Austin. On the plus side, the conversation was refreshingly acerbic -- like I said, I wouldn't brave sub-freezing weather for just anyone -- and it was a delightful, sunny morning. Even if my long underwear did keep falling down.

But as much as I like tromping around the lake with a cold nose, the highlight of the morning came later, when we went to Sweetish Hill cafe for chocolate croissants, strudel, and coffee. Yum. (Perhaps coincidentally, it has not been a particularly productive morning on the book front.)

So we're sitting there, eating highly caloric foods and exchanging parenting horror stories, when I realize that my handy-dandy camera is right there in my pocket and that I have barely used it. So I say, "I should take a picture of you and post it on my blog."
Melanie looks at me and says, "You're kidding me, right?"
But no, I wasn't, and I am so pleased that I actually managed to figure out the camera enough to take a picture AND download it to my computer that here it is. Besides, Melanie is photogenic, and more people should see her. I am sad to report, however, that she made me promise NOT to relate the little incident that happened at a local brew pub. The one that involved the leprechauns and the Goldschlager shots. So in deference to our friendship, I won't. Not today, anyway.

In any case, it seemed appropriate to start the day with strudel, as my topic du jour was going to be food and books. In fact, I still plan to write about that, although I'd much rather write about the leprechauns; but since it's my Cozy Chicks day, I think I'll post it over there later on. In the meantime, here's a picture of the tulip bouquet I found on my kitchen table last night.

Which explains where the bag of petals my daughter gave me as a valentine came from.

Let's hear it for minimalist floral arrangements!

Off to write again... I'll be back on Cozy Chicks this afternoon...

K

Wikipedia. Who knew?

2007-02-14T15:19:00.000-06:00

Just a quick post... remember Leslie the transvestite from one or two posts ago?

I just found out he has his own entry on Wikipedia.

Once again, it boggles the mind.

Okay, back to the werewolves.

People unclear on the concept.

2007-02-14T13:36:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting at the Westbank Community Library, which is conveniently located three blocks from my house, and which I fund almost singlehandedly with my library fines, in a procrastinatory mood. (I am launching a campaign to make that a word, by the way.) Maybe it's because of the delicious Mexi-Cobb salad I just ate at Chuy's with my husband. Followed by half his Chuychanga (yum) and part of a margarita. Mmmm...

Anyway, in deference to my mood, instead of writing a sexually charged scene about werewolves, I'm thinking about the Dear Abby column I read this morning.

Today's standout was a letter from "Needs Therapy in Texas" (which, I can assure you, is most definitely the case). "Needs Therapy" has evidently been having a number of disagreements with her lover, and feels couples counseling would help "make the relationship work." The only hitch? Her lover keeps insisting that they see the same marriage counselor that he is currently seeing... WITH HIS WIFE.

Yes, that's right. His WIFE. I can hear the phone conversation now: "Honey, I'll be a few hours late; my mistress and I are going to couples therapy. Don't wait up, because we've also got a hotel room reserved. I'll tell the doctor 'hi' for you. And sorry about the mix-up on those roses I sent... I'll try to get the names right next time."

Mind boggling, I tell you.

At any rate, despite my ruminations on other people's warped relationships, I'm almost two-thirds of the way through my manuscript revision, and hope to have it done this week. Oh -- and in case you were wondering, I did manage to get my camera to work. Which is why I have a new picture. (Which my daughter still insists bears no resemblance to me. Maybe I'll just post a picture of Chewbacca instead.)

Blogwise, going forward, I will be attempting to liven things up with pictures of my own camera. Well, maybe not of my camera, but from my camera. I am not, however, a crack photographer, so consider yourselves warned. (Then again, based on those last few sentences, perhaps I'm not quite a crack writer, either, so bad photography may make no difference whatsoever to overall post quality.)

Anybody got any exciting V-Day plans? So I can live vicariously through you? (The highlight of tonight's planned festivities involves meatloaf. Maybe, if I'm feeling creative, I'll make it heart-shaped and cover it in ketchup.)

Back to the romantic werewolf grindstone...

K

Beets?

2007-02-13T12:41:00.000-06:00

I just got back from my revise-a-thon (which is still in progress); I've made it through the first third of the manuscript and have added about 2,000 words that I'm very, very happy with. And I even got to include Leslie, Austin's transvestite mascot. (He favors thongs, falsies, and a full beard. He can pull it off, though -- he's got terrific legs. I can't wait to see what he's wearing for Valentine's Day!)

Anyway, last night after my bath and cold compresses (see possum incident, below), I opened up Jitterbug Perfume (what a title!), a Tom Robbins tome that I bought yesterday and haven't read in about ten years. (It beat out the haunted castles, the dark fire something or other book, and the stack of travel essays.) And although the dialogue is not quite as sparkling as it seemed in my younger days, the opening is just as remarkable as I remember. Here it is:

TODAY'S SPECIAL

"The beet is the most intense of vegetables. The radish, admittedly, is more feverish, but the fire of the radish is a cold fire, the fire of discontent not of passion. Tomatoes are lusty enough, yet there runs through tomatoes an undercurrent of frivolity. Beets are deadly serious."

Ha!

Honestly, though. I've never thought of a tomato as frivolous before. Or a beet as serious, come to think of it. So thank you, Tom Robbins, for writing such weird and vegetable-y prose.

I am off now to return e-mails and pay my electric bill. And to exercise.

Ta for now, then... I hope your day is as zesty and interesting as Tom Robbins' crisper drawer!

Gaaaahhh!

2007-02-12T20:59:00.000-06:00

I just dumped a bowl of broccoli bits, mango peels, and tea bags onto a possum.

Which I figured out when the compost pile looked back at me with beady little eyes.

Will now retire to bath followed by cool compresses to reduce heart rate from high 200s.