I’ve been thinking Thursday: Disaster

This week will be a brief thought line as I now have two homes that are a total mess. LOL

We moved. The new commute times are fabulous. I can run to 2 different grocery stores in the less than five minutes! Target is four minutes away. Love it!

However, the old house is a disaster. The new house is a disaster. LOL. And so I am currently spending my saved driving time, making sanity from insanity. But a few short weeks and that will be done.

For now I will share a story of our move day. I had packed up the whole kitchen and moved it the day before because there is nothing worse than being hot, tired, in the middle of moving and you can’t find a damn thing to eat. But come move day we had all the furniture to do. Mostly it went easy-peasy.  Til we got to the couch. Darn thing wouldn’t fit up the stairs from the garage to the living room.

sigh. hrm. now what?

So the hubs carried it around back on his head and I went out onto the deck. Do you know what’s coming? LOL.

He pushed, I pulled, and we flipped it up over the railing and onto the deck. How high is this deck and railing you ask? Eight feet give or take. ROFL.

What’s your favorite moving insanity story?

 

Book Review: Magic Hours

It was really the subtitle that persuaded me to grab this book by Tom Bissell, Magic Hours: Essays on Creators and Creation. Who could pass that up?

Basic Summary (Courtesy of Amazon):

In Magic Hours, award-winning essayist Tom Bissell explores the highs and lows of the creative process. He takes us from the set of The Big Bang Theory to the first novel of Ernest Hemingway to the final work of David Foster Wallace; from the films of Werner Herzog to the film of Tommy Wiseau to the editorial meeting in which Paula Fox’s work was relaunched into the world. Originally published in magazines such as The Believer, The New Yorker, and Harper’s, these essays represent ten years of Bissell’s best writing on every aspect of creation—be it Iraq War documentaries or video-game character voices—and will provoke as much thought as they do laughter.

What are sitcoms for exactly? Can art be both bad and genius? Why do some books survive and others vanish? Bissell’s exploration of these questions make for gripping, unforgettable reading.

My thoughts:

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. There were a few essays that I declined to finish, but for the most part they were humorous and interesting. I’m not sure how much they “provoked as much thought” and I wouldn’t call it gripping reading. The book took me better than 6 weeks to finish. LOL.

I did note down some books to read and movies to see based on things Bissell wrote though. I found his take on the publishing world hopelessly outdated in some ways and crushingly apt in others. I can’t say my world view was altered, my breadth of knowledge about mankind increased, or my craft improved by this series of essays (what I usually look for in non-fiction) but my brain was occupied happily while reading it.

I’ve been thinking Thursday: Moving House

We’re getting ready to move this weekend. The kiddo is anxious and badly behaving, but we talk it through with him daily and it seems to help. The dog is anxious and glued to my calf. I wish we could talk it through with him, but smart as he is, he doesn’t quite grasp what I’m saying. (Yes, we are taking the dog with us.)

And every one who hears we’re moving asks: bigger and better house?

When I laugh and say quite the opposite they all look puzzled.

Here’s the thing people don’t talk about: a large beautiful home takes hours and hours and hours of maintenance on the inside to keep it clean, to keep the paint mar free, to keep the hard woods in good condition. And you have to take care of it because it’s a huge investment of money.

And then when that house sits on an acre the previous owners perfectly manicured, you have to spend hours and hours and hours mowing the lawn and pulling weeks to keep that looking nice as well.

Unless you pay exorbitant rates for a weekly gardener and house cleaner. We live in the middle of no where, the options are limited and so people charge through the nose. Plus did you know that if you have a nicer house people charge you more? Just saying, had vendors straight out admit it to me when I called them on it. Anyway, the point is without outside help your entire life is maintaining that home and yard. No time for anything else.

Compounded by the fact that we do live in the middle of no where and commute times have doubled since we moved here…..

So yes, we’re moving. No, we didn’t buy another beautiful show home. We didn’t buy a new home at all.

We’re renting, a small townhouse with no yard to maintain, and shorter commute times.

What about you? Do you feel burdened by your house and yard?

Book Review: The Reckoning Stones

I adore Laura DiSilverio’s work. She writes a couple of really fun cozy series and some stand alone thriller stuff I’ve thoroughly enjoyed. The Reckoning Stones was one of many books I downloaded for my recent road trip with the kiddo.

Basic Summary (Courtesy of Goodreads):

After accusing the pastor of her close-knit religious community of molesting her, fourteen-year-old Mercy Asher is branded a liar and publicly humiliated. She runs away on the night someone beats the pastor into a coma and kills his wife.

Two decades later, Mercy has become Iris Dashwood, an emotionally troubled but brilliant jeweler. She thinks she’s in control of her life until news of Pastor Matt’s miraculous awakening broadsides her and leaves her unable to design. Iris returns to Lone Pine, Colorado, determined to confront her past to restore her creativity.

Iris reconnects with her mother, best friend, and boyfriend who harbor secrets she must unearth to find a killer. In the final reckoning, the truth may cost more than she anticipates. Will it bring redemption…or devastation?

 

My thoughts:

I am torn on this book. As usual Laura has a brilliant take on what makes people tick. I love that about her writing. On the other hand, I had trouble connecting with the main character of this book. And it was so dire and sad most of the time, that while I felt compelled to see it thru, I didn’t feel the love. Part of me wants to expand on what bothered me but it would be giving away parts of the plot. So I’ll just say I hated how few people did the right thing.

I’ve been thinking Thursday: Joy

I’ve talked briefly before about how uncertain I am that I have the emotional where with all to be a writer. It’s not the writing or the editing ability that I lack, it’s the ability to roll with the constant rejection. I keep trying to explain it to other writers, to get their feelings on the process, in order to process my feelings on the whole mess that is publishing.

Recently an article came out on Writer Unboxed called Keeping Your Hustle Joyful by Anna Elliott. A few quotes from her delightful post….

“…I’ve written because quite simply, however hard life feels in that moment, however hard it is to pick myself up and sit down at the keyboard, not writing would be harder still.”

“I wanted to write because I love it.”

“It’s always easier for me to write than not write.”

I’m jealous of her. The green eyed monster is in the house. Because I’ve lost that loving feeling, now it’s gone, gone, gone, whoa-oa-oa.

Book Review: The Uninvited Corpse

More cozy mysteries. Seems like ten new ones get published every day. The Uninvited Corpse by Debra Sennefelder is the first in a new series.

Basic Summary (Courtesy of Amazon):

Leaving behind a failed career as a magazine editor and an embarrassing stint on a reality baking show, newly divorced lifestyle entrepreneur Hope Early thought things were finally on the upswing—until she comes face-to-face with a murderer . . .

Hope’s schedule is already jam packed with recipe testing and shameless plugs for her food blog as she rushes off to attend a spring garden tour in the charming town of Jefferson, Connecticut. Unfortunately, it isn’t the perfectly arranged potted plants that grab her attention—it’s the bloody body of reviled real estate agent Peaches McCoy . . .

One of the tour guests committed murder, and all eyes are on Hope’s older sister, Claire Dixon—who, at best, saw Peaches as a professional rival. And suspicions really heat up when another murder occurs the following night. Now, with two messy murders shaking Jefferson and all evidence pointing to Claire, Hope must set aside her burgeoning brand to prove her sister’s innocence. But the closer she gets to the truth, the closer she gets to a killer intent on making sure her life goes permanently out of style . . .

My thoughts:

Sigh. I suspect this is simply a style mismatch for me. The author is repetitive in her writing, which some people probably like as a reminder of what has already happened. It just rubbed me raw. I felt like putting the book down every time I reread the same phrases. Then, the amateur sleuth didn’t actually solve the crime. She survived several attacks by the killer and one large confrontation where she had to be rescued by a dog and eventually the police. I don’t like that kind of mystery. If you don’t have the brains to figure out the solution, at least have the balls to rescue yourself. But I can imagine this will be a very popular series. The protag is a reality show failure, divorced because her hubs cheated, and now making it as a blogger. People will love it.

I’ve been thinking Thursday: Charisma

No, I doImage result for charisma carpenter attackedn’t mean Charisma Carpenter, although we have been introducing the kiddo to Buffy the Vampire Slayer lately. LOL.

I mean the other kind of charisma: charm that inspires others.

I went recently to a seminar, I’m going to be a little cagey about the when and where because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. This is about my thought process.

So seminar with 2 speakers. One, I adore. I was so looking forward to what this speaker would say, sure it would epic. The other I had never heard of but hey why not hear that one too.

Turned out, the unknown to me speaker was amazing. This speaker actually provided me with tools to improve my writing. Things I had not heard before, ever. Things that actually seem functional and helpful and will improve my editing process. Woohoo!

The adored speaker was boring. Badly, badly boring.

And thinking about that on the drive home I came to the a couple of conclusions.

A) Being brilliant does not make one a brilliant speaker with charisma.

B) The newness of ones material contributes highly to how fab one’s presentation is regarded.

So all this kind of makes me wonder, every year I teach a new class, with a new curriculum I develop. I always thought when I got three or four classes developed I would just start rotating through those. But will the spark be gone if I do that? Is the new material I develop each year what makes me such a fab speaker?

Crap.

Book Review: Quiet

With all the trouble I’ve been having getting traction in a saturated book market, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain was very appealing on the shelf.

Basic Summary (Courtesy of Amazon):

At least one-third of the people we know are introverts. They are the ones who prefer listening to speaking; who innovate and create but dislike self-promotion; who favor working on their own over working in teams. It is to introverts—Rosa Parks, Chopin, Dr. Seuss, Steve Wozniak—that we owe many of the great contributions to society.

In Quiet, Susan Cain argues that we dramatically undervalue introverts and shows how much we lose in doing so. She charts the rise of the Extrovert Ideal throughout the twentieth century and explores how deeply it has come to permeate our culture. She also introduces us to successful introverts—from a witty, high-octane public speaker who recharges in solitude after his talks, to a record-breaking salesman who quietly taps into the power of questions. Passionately argued, superbly researched, and filled with indelible stories of real people, Quiet has the power to permanently change how we see introverts and, equally important, how they see themselves.

My Thoughts:

So much of this book read like a pep talk: Introverts – you are ok! Gee, thanks. I knew that already. What I wanted was to hear about my supposed power and how to use it. Cain took quite some time meandering through really intriguing and interesting research. If you like to geek out about how people think and why they act the way they do, there is much to enjoy in this book. But I’m not sure I walked away with much new information on how to leverage my introversion to get people to read my books. LOL. But I had a good time reading it and that alone is worth the effort.

 

I’ve been thinking Thursday…skill behind the wheel

If you’ve known me a while, which most of you haven’t, you know I’m pretty careful about the kiddo. For example, on long road trips, I set cruise control so I don’t speed. This is excruciating for me because I used to pride myself on beating my best long distance time, every time I road-tripped. But times they a change and I’ve had to change with them.

So picture the scene, I am driving a winding mountain pass at the speed limit with little effort. Hello, I live in the foothills of the Cascades. I drive winding mountain roads daily. I pass almost everyone on the road without speeding. Why? Because if you don’t do it daily, you don’t have those skills. The average car I pass is going 15-20 miles below the speed limit. Great. Know your limits, drive within them.

Then we get the straight away. I am still doing the speed limit (on cruise control), and all those cars I passed are flying by me at 80, 90, 100 miles an hour. I’m jealous, I admit it. But what comes to mind is this: if you can’t drive a curving pass at more than 40, you have no business doing a 100 anywhere. One car swerving slightly into your lane, one animal crossing the road, one unexpected lane change….you don’t have the skills to handle it. And bam, bang, boom, car crash.

Right?

The Body in the Pool Chapter 5

The Body in the Pool

Book One of the Dismember Killer Series

 

Chapter Five

“Detective Harding, have you been waiting here the whole time?” Doctor Wallsgraf asked when he returned to his office.
Tom smiled. “I was admiring your interesting collections.”
The headmaster paused in his stride. “I see. Detective Thomas said you’d like to interview the guard.”
“That would certainly help. Was there only one guard on duty?”
“No. We employ five guards daily on three shifts. If you will follow me to the security office.”
“Of course.”
The security office was two doors down the hall. The headmaster pushed open the partially closed door revealing two uniformed men. One young, extremely slight in build with what seemed like an entire boy scout mess kit on his belt. He was crumpled in a wooden chair squeezed into the corner, his elbows resting on his knees. The other man: older, craggy faced, and tending to roundness, sat in front of a bank of screens which displayed the contents of various cameras about the property. The room smelled of fast food, burgers and fries by the lingering ketchup scent.
“Detective Harding has a few questions for you,” the headmaster announced.
In case he was inclined to linger, Tom said, “Thank you, doctor. I’ll let you know if I need anything else. You’ll be in your office?”
The headmaster exhaled heavily. “Fine.”
The sound of a chuckle turned into a cough emanated from the older guard.
Tom suppressed a smile. Turning to the occupants of the room, he asked, “Who can tell me about the security policies here?”
The older guard nodded.
“And you are?”
“Mike Hunter. Been here about three years.”
“Go on then Mike.”
“Standard overlapping three by. One in the vid room on all three. One at the gate day and evening shift.”
“So there’s no one at the gate at night?”
“No reason for it. No one should be coming and going after hours, by the board’s decree.”
Tom nodded. “Board?”
“Board of Directors. They run the place although the good doctor will tell you otherwise,” Mike said with chortle.
“Got it.”
“I handle the evening shift, interior, Sunday through Thursday.”
Taking a stab in the dark, Tom said, “Kind of rough during football season, eh? I would have thought with three years you’d have seniority.”
Mike nodded his head. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you.”
Tom waited. Mike clearly had practice with the waiting game. Neither spoke for two minutes.
The skinny guard finally broke the silence, “I’m Bobby. I work the night shift.” His voice cracked twice in the two short sentences.
Tom glanced at the boy scout. Run with him since he was willing to talk or establish dominance by reminding Bobby he was mid-interview with his coworker. Tom made eye contact with Mike who shrugged. There was a story there.
“Hi Bobby. I’m Detective Harding. Can you tell me about your night?”
Bobby nodded. “I got here at eleven, like I always do. Well, maybe I was a little late. I got distracted by my chem homework when I was supposed to be getting ready but I can’t have been more than five minutes late.”
Tom glanced at Mike as Bobby ran on at the mouth. Mike held up seven fingers.
“And it was super rainy on the 405 and people always drive badly when it rains, which makes no sense to me because it’s always raining here. I should have gone to school somewhere warm but I got a partial scholarship which meant less loans, Seattle seemed like a good choice, you know. But then I got depressed from all the rain and I almost flunked out, lost my scholarship, and had to take this job to afford school.”
Tom tamped down his mounting irritation. Fountains of information eventually distilled into facts worth writing down, eventually. The secret was to perfect your interested face. Tom nodded to back up his face.
“Like I said I was a few minutes late. I started my rounds as soon as I got here. Well, almost as soon. I mean, I dropped my lunch off in the office first. But then I went right out. Well okay I stopped at the bathroom, too. But that was kind of already on my rounds. Right, I mean, I’m supposed to check all unoccupied rooms.”
Tom bit his tongue to keep from laughing.
“Everything was fine. I had to ask room 412 to turn down their music. And a couple of boys from 319 were looking out the windows in the hall with binoculars. Bird watching they said. I sent them back to their room.”
Tom noted 319 and ‘bird watching’ in his notepad.
“I was getting to the main floor rooms, I always start at the top and work my way down, when I heard the girl scream. God, it was terrifying. She was loud and shrill and I got goose bumps everywhere. I ran outside and found the kids by the pool. The boy was holding the girl and I think trying to quiet her down. He seemed more concerned about getting caught outside after curfew than the b-b-b-body in the pool.” Bobby sobbed as he stuttered out the last.
Tom waited to see if Bobby would regain control of himself.
Mike cleared his throat. “Video came back up not long after that I guess. The first thing I saw the kids were hugging and Bobby there was puking in one of the potted plants.”
“Did you call the headmaster?”
“I did. Then I flipped through the cameras to see if anything else was amiss, then went out to the pool deck. Got there before the headmaster. Bobby was, well, like that,” Mike gestured to Bobby’s current state. “The girl was hysterical. The boy pretty quiet. The body floating in the pool.”
“Did you see anything on the cameras?”
“Would have said so if I did.”
Tom shot a look at Bobby. He was done for. Time to press Mike. “Why is the maintenance window common knowledge?”
Mike shrugged. “Not my call.”
“You have an opinion about it.” Tom prodded.
Mike sighed. “It’s important we maintain a predictable schedule for the comfort of the students.”
“Let me guess, the good doctor,” Tom asked.
Mike nodded. “He’s not much for accepting other people’s ideas.”
“Even when they have more experience?” Tom asked. “What did you do before this? Military? PD?”
“Both.”
Tom nodded. “What else should we know?”
“That’s a hell of a question.”
“I can tell you’ve been on the job. What do you think we need to know about the school? The headmaster? The security process? The students?”
Mike took a deep breath. “The headmaster is generally an ass. He’s been worried lately. Clear as glass. The gate out front is useless. We’re wooded on the other three sides, no fences. The kids are mostly your run of the mill teenagers with a few budding criminals.”
“Got it.” Tom noted the lack of fencing as a point to check out. How close were roads to the woods? Could someone have come through easily? With a dead body? Tom brought out his phone and showed Mike the picture of the victim. “Do you recognize him?”
Mike took a long look. “Can’t be sure. It looks a lot like one of the board members though.”
“One of the Academy’s Board Members?” Tom asked again.
Mike nodded. “They come in monthly for dinner meetings. Pretty sure I’ve seen that guy or someone who looks like him.”
Tom handed Mike a card. “Call me if you think of anything else.”
“Will do.”