tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15826229715647856942024-03-13T10:43:38.690-07:00Penny Warner: BlogPenny Warner's Blog!Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.comBlogger147125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-21455738703732422102014-01-09T10:02:00.000-08:002014-01-09T10:02:51.655-08:00Making Resolutions When You Have No Resolve<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ndotb9U6hRQ/Us7jyUszZMI/AAAAAAAAANc/rUwexl7GF9I/s1600/woman+shooting+computer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ndotb9U6hRQ/Us7jyUszZMI/AAAAAAAAANc/rUwexl7GF9I/s1600/woman+shooting+computer.jpg" /></a></div>
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It's
been a week since I made my annual list of New Year's resolutions, and
I've already I've broken all of them. That's a record. I don't know why I
keep making these ridiculous promises to improve my life. And these
resolutions weren't even that difficult.</div>
<div class="bodytextragright">
<br /></div>
<div class="bodytextleadinrr">
#
1. No fudge before breakfast. How hard could that be? There are plenty
of other chocolate choices I can have instead of fudge -- like brownies,
See's candy, Oreos, Hershey's Chocolate Syrup. I can wait until
lunchtime for fudge.</div>
<div class="bodytextleadinrr">
<br /></div>
#2. Walk to the mailbox. Why do I wait for my
husband to come home and bring me the mail? I can make it down the
driveway without breaking a sweat -- usually. And carrying all those
sales fliers for carpet cleaning is good exercise.<br />
<br />
#3. Eat out
less. My husband and I have a bad habit of letting professional chefs
cook for us instead of heating up microwaveable meals and throwing
together peanut butter sandwiches. We'd probably save a lot of money --
and calories -- by just grabbing a carton of yogurt or some peanuts.
Only trouble is, a Black Bear Diner just opened up in Dublin. We love
the Black Bear Diner!<br />
<br />
#4. Baby-sit more. My grandkids are growing
so fast. Before I know it, they'll be going away to beauty school or
launching their own startup company. If I don't hurry up and play more
Jenga games, make more Play-Doh pancakes, dress up more zombie dolls and
build more Lego computers, I'll find myself alone with my three cats.
They're no fun. Speaking of cats ...<br />
<br />
#5. Sign up the cats for
charm school. They were so cute when we first got them. And we didn't
mean to get so many. We had a cat, but he ran away, so we got another
one, and he seemed lonely, so we got him a friend, but there was a
two-for-one special, then the first cat came back, and ... now we have
too many cats. It's not that we don't love them. We do, even though one
is as matted as a bird's nest, one smells like a urinal and one sits on
my lap while I'm in the bathroom. (The first one ran away again. He
couldn't stand the other three.) I'd like to get a little dog next --
one that will fit in my purse. They're so cute.<br />
<br />
#6. Write more books. I need more money.<br />
<br />
#7.
Use the RV more. We bought this money-sucking, gas-drinking, house on
wheels three years ago, and we've really got to go more places to get
our money's worth. The last time we used it, we parked it overnight in
front of my daughter's house on Christmas Eve so we could get up at 5 in
the morning and watch the grandkids open their Santa presents before
going back to bed. We've got to try that new RV park in Fresno. I hear
they have Ping-Pong, a bouncy house and bingo.<br />
<br />
#8. Blog more.
Whoops. Missed that window. Apparently blogging is over, as is emailing
(now texting), Facebooking (now Instagraming) and actually talking on
the telephone (now completely obsolete.)<br />
<br />
#9. Keep the house clean. For that I'll need a leaf blower, power washer, bug bomb, crime scene cleaner and maid.<br />
<br />
#10. Make new resolutions. Whatever.<br />
</div>
</span>Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-39973092003754285312013-12-26T10:51:00.003-08:002013-12-26T10:51:48.654-08:00Happy Day AFTER Christmas<span id="MNGiSection"></span><br />
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'Twas the day after Christmas</div>
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And all through the home,</div>
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Lay the frenzy of gift wrap</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2657">
That inspired this poem.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_11">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2659">
Seems I'd just finished searching</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2660">
The malls for a gift</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2661">
That would suit my dear husband,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2662">
The kids, our cat, Biff.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_14">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2664">
No, it hadn't been smooth</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2665">
Finding things that were neat</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2666">
For those nieces and nephews</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2667">
And great-uncle Pete.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_17">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2669">
Oh, so desperate was I</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2670">
To get just the right gifts,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2671">
That I wrote to the Fat Man</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2679">
Up north, for some tips.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_20">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2678">
But the letter came back</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2677">
From the North Pole marked "Who?</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2676">
"No one here by that name.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2681">
"No such zone. Postage due!"</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_23">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2675">
So I "shopped till I dropped"</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2674">
And the stores closed their doors.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2683">
Now those presents are strewn</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2673">
All over the floors.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_26">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2672">
The house is a shambles,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2690">
Torn boxes and wrap.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2692">
Just a flurry of ribbons</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2689">
(And that Styrofoam crap.)</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_29">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2688">
Although stockings still hang</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2687">
By the chimney with care,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2686">
All the stuffers are gone.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2685">
They hold nothing but air.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_32">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2684">
The old tree stands still,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2700">
Needles ready to drop.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2702">
Once the ornaments blinked,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2699">
Now the twinkling has stopped.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_35">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2704">
All the cookies are crumbs</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2698">
And the fudge plate licked clean.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2705">
The eggnog is sour,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2697">
The turkey, a dream.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_38">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2707">
I've been tripping on toys</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2696">
Scattered throughout the room,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2695">
Nearly stabbed my right foot</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2694">
On that new bracelet loom</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_41">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2716">
Those underfoot Minions,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2715">
That Zombie High doll,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2714">
Those Skylanders? Chimas?</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2713">
All over the hall.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_46">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2712">
Nearly broke my big toe</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2711">
When I stepped on some Bots</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2710">
Bumped my head on a low-flying</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2726">
Plane -- seeing spots.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2725">
And staring at electronic</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2724">
Games that sit dark,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2723">
Right next to the stuffed dog</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2722">
That has yet to bark.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_53">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2928">
The new toys are scattered</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2927">
Throughout every room,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2926">
While the kids romp outside</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2930">
Playing swords with a broom.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_56">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2925">
They don't seem to care</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2645">
About playing X-Box</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2933">
Or dolls that look dead</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2646">
Or Legos and blocks.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_59">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2924">
They've almost forgotten</div>
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Those Disneyland toys,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2648">
That loud talking Elmo.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2649">
(He really annoys!)</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_62">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2650">
Now Dad's catching Zs</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2651">
On the couch by the fire,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2932">
Oblivious to all of</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2940">
The muck and the mire.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_65">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2941">
As I gather the remnants</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2939">
Of this Christmas Past,</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2938">
I can't help but sigh:</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1388081766468_2937">
"It's all over, at last!"</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_68">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_73">
Merry Day After Christmas!</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_7_1388081766468_75">
-Penny</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-61195410099177969032013-10-31T16:25:00.004-07:002013-10-31T16:25:57.194-07:00Cooking up Breaking Bad for Halloween<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXaWb6Wbbyg/UnLm9dl8GQI/AAAAAAAAAMo/cWgDdouw_ls/s1600/breaking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXaWb6Wbbyg/UnLm9dl8GQI/AAAAAAAAAMo/cWgDdouw_ls/s320/breaking.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span></span><div class="yiv2877891550bodytextragright" id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3894">
My
husband asked me to take him shopping the other day. Believe it or not,
that never happens. We shop differently. He goes to the hardware store
and comes out empty-handed. I go to the mall and buy everything. But
this time, he wanted me to come along because he wanted my opinion --
another first.</div>
<div class="yiv2877891550bodytextragright" id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3894">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3895">
"I need makeup," he said, as we headed out the door.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3895">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3896">
Oookay.
What could he possibly need makeup for? To cover up the scratches in
the kitchen table? Don't they have something at the hardware store for
that?</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3896">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3897">
"And I need it to match my skin tone," he continued.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3897">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3898">
Then
it dawned on me. We'd recently been invited to a Halloween party and he
was planning his costume. At least, I hoped that was it.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3898">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3899">
I
haven't been to a Halloween party since I was young and thin enough to
fit into a French maid costume. There's no way I can wear any of those
sexy outfits as a middle-aged woman. First of all, they wouldn't fit
around my middle-aged fat. And secondly, no one wants to see my
sun-spotted skin, thunder thighs and beer/wine/coffee gut protruding out
from that skimpy material. There will be no more Naughty Nurse, Bawdy
Barmaid or Pretty Princess costumes for me. Now, if you want a hospital
custodian, drunken old sot or weight-challenged witch, call me.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3899">
</div>
<div>
"So
what are you planning to wear to this Halloween party?" I asked,
worried he might be thinking of going as a Naughty Nurse, Bawdy Barmaid
or Pretty Princess.</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
"A Meth Dealer." That made complete sense.
We've been so caught up in marathon viewings of "Breaking Bad," it seems
like Walter White and Jesse Pinkman are part of the family. As for the
meth part, we're not sure what that is exactly. Probably some kind of
metaphor for life.</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
"I've got the baldhead cap," my husband said, "but I need it to blend into my skin so it looks real."</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3902">
"I
see," I said. "As for the rest of the costume, you're not planning to
go in your tighty whiteys like Walter White, are you? Because there's no
way I'm going out in public with you in your underwear." </div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3901">
"Fine," he said, channeling his character. "I'll wear pants."</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3901">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3900">
"So,"
I said, "if you're going to be Mr. White, the chemistry-teacher-turned
meth-cook, do you want me to go as his beautiful wife?" </div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3900">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3903">
"I was
thinking you'd be Jesse Pinkman, Walter White's assistant." What? He
expected me to wear baggy, low-slung jeans with my boxers showing, a
T-shirt that says, "Yo, Witch!" (edited for the family newspaper), an
oversized hoodie and a knitted stocking cap? Works for me. Hopefully no
one will recognize me.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3903">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3904">
Tom is totally into this costume. In fact,
he plans to "cook" his own blue crystal candy (he got the recipe on The
Food Network site.) I just hope there are no DEA agents there, or we may
have to call Saul to bail us out of jail.</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3904">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3908">
Oh well. It's only for a
few hours, right? Then we can go home, eat a bunch of leftover
Halloween candy and watch the last episode of the best TV show ever:
"Breaking Bad."</div>
<div id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3908">
</div>
<div class="yiv2877891550taglinejb" id="yui_3_13_0_1_1383261650334_3907">
<br /></div>
</div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-20100801861842443182013-10-18T15:04:00.001-07:002013-10-18T15:04:55.198-07:00Want to see something really scary?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w2OnRQmKVGo/UmGwb0OlzTI/AAAAAAAAAMY/e9esdepE4rY/s1600/blob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w2OnRQmKVGo/UmGwb0OlzTI/AAAAAAAAAMY/e9esdepE4rY/s1600/blob.jpg" /></a></div><div class="yiv0874208273articleSecondaryDate yiv0874208273meta" id="yiv0874208273articleDate"><br />
<span id="yiv0874208273dateUpdated" title="10/18/2013 09:25:48 AM"></span></div><span></span><span></span><div class="yiv0874208273articleBody" id="yiv0874208273articleBody"><div class="yiv0874208273articleViewerGroup" id="yiv0874208273articleViewerGroup" style="border: 0px;"><span class="yiv0874208273articleEmbeddedViewerBox"></span><span></span><span></span></div><span></span><div class="yiv0874208273bodytextragright" id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2349">I love scary movies. When October rolls around, I turn on the Chiller, SyFy and FX channels and record every movie that offers a thrill. </div><div class="yiv0874208273bodytextragright" id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2350"><br />
</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2351">It doesn't matter what kind of scary movie -- teen slashers at haunted camps, mutant bugs the size of Godzilla, creepy clowns that come to life when no one else is looking, marine mammals that turn into tornadoes. I even like the old black-and-white classics when Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman at Dracula's Castle (with or without Abbot and Costello.) </div><div style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal;"><br />
</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2352">As a kid, I was scared of everything. The dark. Boogeymen. Spiders. Even the Tooth Fairy gave me the creeps, sneaking into my room in the middle of the night. How did she know where I lived? How did she know I'd lost a tooth? How much did she know about my hidden treasures?</div><div><br />
</div><div>Back then I never watched scary movies. When I was in fifth grade, all my friends at the slumber party had seen "The Blob" -- that scary movie in which Steve McQueen and his teen pals stumble upon a gooey sticky substance that begins devouring everyone in sight. I got nightmares just looking at the movie poster.</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2353"><br />
</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2354">When I was in high school, I took my little brother to see "The Pit and the Pendulum" and "The House of Usher," but I spent most of the time in the well-lit lobby, pretending to buy popcorn. I was probably the last one to see "The Exorcist," terrified I'd find myself possessed by the devil.</div><div><br />
</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2355">So now I'm catching up on everything I missed. My TiVo is filled with zombies (undead, walkers, breathers, brain-eaters), ghosts (spirits, phantoms, apparitions), witches (pagans, wiccans, warlocks), spiritualists (voodoo queens, tarot readers, fortunetellers) and other paranormal activities. I'm looking forward to watching things that come out of the swamps and chase you, things that swoop down from the sky and pick you up and things that hide under the bed and grab your feet. I'll be eating them up like popcorn.</div><div><br />
</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2360">But as fearless as I've become over the years, there's one thing that scares me more than any of these so-called scary movies. Something scarier than any sharknado-crocsaurus-chupacabra-mutant beast combined: floating around in space.</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2359">Alone. Untethered. And running out of air.</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2362"><br />
</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2358">Yep, I just saw "Gravity," the Sandra Bullock/George Clooney movie. In high-resolution Imax (10 times larger!), 3-D (be a part of the experience!), with digitally remastered sound (feel the vibrations in your bones!) Big mistake.</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2356"><br />
</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2357">I haven't been to a movie like this since Ben-Hur came out in Technicolor. Not only did I hold my breath the entire 90 minutes of the film (like Sandra Bullock's character, who didn't even find someone to buddy-breathe with), but I was so tense trying to help Sandra grab onto the side of the space station, I had a knot in my neck the size of a lunar module. That movie scared the spacesuit off me.</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2363"><br />
</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2364">Now I'm back to watching plain old horror movies on my plain old flat-screen TV.</div><div><br />
</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2365">Today's lineup: "Halloween," "Halloween II: The Sequel, Duh," "Halloween III: The Return of Michael Myers," "Halloween IV: The Revenge of Jamie Lee Curtis," "Halloween V: The Curse of Freddy Kruger," "Halloween VI: The Resurrection of John Carpenter's Career," and "Halloween The Thirteenth: With Abbott and Costello." </div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2369" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal;"><br />
</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2366">I ain't afraid of no ghosts.</div><div id="yui_3_13_0_rc_1_1_1382133279724_2368"><br />
</div></div>Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-67192345494015270072013-10-13T11:41:00.001-07:002013-10-13T11:41:31.304-07:00Check your spam for important news!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Like
most computer uses, I have a built-in spam filter. Every now and then I
check it to make sure I haven't missed anything important, such as a
receipt for a purchase, a letter from a reader or a diagnosis from my
doctor.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566bodytextragright" id="yui_3_7_2_1_1381689021462_6042">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1381689021462_6043">
I hadn't done this in several months, so I took a day off
from work to read through my spam and see if that check from Publisher's
Clearinghouse had somehow ended up there. No such luck. But I did find
lots of emails waiting for me that I thought were just as important. If I
hadn't checked, I would have missed the following:</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1381689021462_6044">
<br /></div>
Dr. Oz Weight Loss Reveal. Boy do I need this. If famous Dr. Oz wants
to reveal weight loss information to me personally, I must really need
it.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566articleBody" id="yiv1559049566articleBody">
<br /> Urgent Message from Mongolia. Doesn't "spam"
know that the word "urgent" means I need to see this message right away?
Especially one from Mongolia. Maybe a dear friend is stuck there and
has lost her luggage and passport and all her money and needs me to send
her a sympathy card.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566articleBody" id="yiv1559049566articleBody">
<br /> "Girl" Finder. I can't
print the actual word that was used instead of "girl," but suffice it to
say, I'm not looking for a date at this time. Maybe later.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566articleBody" id="yiv1559049566articleBody">
<br />
Eighty percent-off Viagra. Eighty percent off! I can't pass up a deal
like that, even for a product I don't really need. Now if only they had
80 percent off Breathe Right strips. My husband could use those.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566articleBody" id="yiv1559049566articleBody">
<br />
Learn Your Credit Score. I'm going to pass on this one. The less I
know, the better. I plan to continue using my Visa as if there is no
tomorrow.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566articleBody" id="yiv1559049566articleBody">
<br /> Earn Your Degree. Who wouldn't want
another degree in this economic climate? I'd like to get my doctorate in
massage therapy or cooking. And a degree in liberal studies would
certainly come in handy.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566articleBody" id="yiv1559049566articleBody">
<br /> Congratulations Dear
Lucky Winner! Finally! I've never won anything in my life before this! I
wonder what I won. A new car? A vacation in Hawaii? A ShamWow? Can't
wait! All I have to do is send them a check to let them know I really
want this.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566articleBody" id="yiv1559049566articleBody">
<br /> The Very Worst Food You Can Eat! I'm
not sure I want to know. I've eaten a lot of junk over the years, so
it's probably too late. Especially if chocolate and cupcakes and cookies
are on the list. Delete.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566articleBody" id="yiv1559049566articleBody">
<br /> Luxury replica watches!
No one wears a watch anymore, now that we have smart phones that tell
us the time, remind us to take our meds, and wake us up in the morning.
But I'd like to buy a bunch of fake Rolexes and give them as gifts to
older people.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566articleBody" id="yiv1559049566articleBody">
<br /> Dr. Oz Fat Buster -- Drew Barrymore
lost 24 lbs. Another one from the TV doctor! I love how Dr. Oz has
taken a personal interest in me with all these emails. And I could
really use a Fat Buster, since I look a lot like Drew Barrymore when she
was 24 pounds.</div>
<div class="yiv1559049566articleBody" id="yiv1559049566articleBody">
<br /> These so-called spams are just
the tip of the iceberg. I have so many more to read to make my life
better. Time's a-wasting, according to my new fake Rolex.</div>
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Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-22158963018373822902013-08-22T07:56:00.006-07:002013-08-22T07:56:57.718-07:00Financial Planning for Clueless Retirees
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DwVHN1wlz0M/UhYmVTC2p1I/AAAAAAAAAL4/cgj0rHhzRiY/s1600/checklist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DwVHN1wlz0M/UhYmVTC2p1I/AAAAAAAAAL4/cgj0rHhzRiY/s1600/checklist.jpg" /></a></div>
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As
my husband and I neared retirement, we did what smart pre-retirees do
-- we saw a financial planner. Of course, we quickly learned that we
should have seen that financial planner when we first opened up our
joint bank account four decades ago.</div>
<div class="bodytextragright">
<br /></div>
Back then we were too busy
trying to make enough money to pay the rent, buy food, and fill up the
car, with the occasional trip to Disneyland thrown in. We didn't have a
lot left over to actually "plan" with. Soon we'll be on a fixed income
and will need to budget our money so that we can continue to survive for
the next four decades -- our predicted life span.<br />
<br />
The recent
appointment with the financial planner went better than we expected --
at least initially. We gave him all of our receipts and whatnot, and he
typed up a bunch of numbers and put them in columns. According to his
calculations, we could live comfortably on what we'd rake in from our
retirement accounts until at least the age of 106.<br />
<br />
That was until my husband remembered he'd neglected to include the monthly Visa bill.<br />
Uh-oh.
For that we needed a whole new column. After the financial planner
finished recalculating, he told us if we retired now, we'd have enough
money to last until Halloween. Maybe Thanksgiving if we gave up food and
gas.<br />
<br />
Well, this was quite a shock, to say the least. We figured
all that money we'd been pouring into various retirement accounts,
including Social Security, would keep us in a life of leisure
indefinitely. Now it seems we may not be able to retire until we're 106.
We're currently looking at ways to cut expenses for things we probably
won't need when we're sitting around the house all day, watching TV,
reading the newspaper, and drinking coffee.<br />
<br />
Like, do we really
need a landline telephone when we have two cell phones? Well, yeah,
because what if someone from our distant past tries to call us, like my
old boyfriend from college?<br />
<br />
We could cut down on cable, but I
won't give up my channels -- Sci-Fi, FX, Chiller -- and Tom won't give
up his -- sports, food, history. Besides, sometimes, when I'm surfing
the 500 choices currently available, I stumble upon a show I wouldn't
have found if I didn't have cable, like reruns of "The Big Bang Theory."
So what would we do all day if we're retired and didn't get but four or
five channels?<br />
<br />
We could stop eating out at restaurants so often,
but every time my husband buys groceries for a simple pasta dinner, he
ends up spending twice as much, what with all the extras he puts in the
cart, like beer, wine, ice cream, candy bars and potato chips.<br />
<br />
We could
give up annual trips to Disneyland, except the grandkids are growing up
so fast and we'd hate for them to miss any of the rides.<br />
<br />
Oh well. I
guess we'll just keep on working, earning and spending like we've been
doing all these years. If we run out of money, we can always move in
with our kids. After all, according to Wikipedia, where I get all my
important information, we spent $389,000 raising each of our two
children. If they'll just pay us back, we could live comfortably pretty
much FOREVER.<br />
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<br /></div>
</div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-83429272774885698562013-08-08T16:56:00.003-07:002013-08-08T16:56:31.593-07:00The Wolf's at the Door of This Old House<span id="yiv0024739049MNGiSection"></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3XsAk2-tdKM/UgQv4ltL1uI/AAAAAAAAALo/kNYZCZzI16k/s1600/haunted+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3XsAk2-tdKM/UgQv4ltL1uI/AAAAAAAAALo/kNYZCZzI16k/s1600/haunted+house.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="yiv0024739049bodytextragright" id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8918">
I
feel like Fifer and Fiddler from the Three Little Pigs. They're the
ones who built their houses from straw and sticks. No wonder those homes
fell down when the Wolf came huffing and puffing. </div>
<div class="yiv0024739049bodytextragright" id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8918">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8923">
On the other
hand, the neighbors flanking our tiny one-story home are more like
Practical Pig. They both just gutted and remodeled their two-story
homes, and while they didn't use bricks (not safe in a California
Wolfquake), they essentially have brand new homes.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8923">
</div>
<div>
Meanwhile, this straw-stick house of ours is falling apart.</div>
<div>
</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8924">
Just
the other day, as my husband, Tom, was getting out of the shower, the
glass shower door shattered into a billion pieces. Luckily it broke into
rock-salt sized chunks, so he wasn't bleeding from head to toe, but it
startled him -- and made a huge mess. After checking the price of a new
shower door, we decided to hang a shower curtain over the gaping hole --
temporarily, I hope -- and maybe take more baths.</div>
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</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8925">
Then the toilet
broke. Since we need a minimum of two toilets in this house, thanks to
grandkids with imperfect aim, my husband ran down to the toilet store
and brought back something called "The Throne" -- the equivalent of a
brick toilet, I assume.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8925">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8926">
Naturally, as soon as he finished caulking
the toilet base, we noticed water dripping from the roof. Tom checked
it out and discovered the gutters along the roofline are rusted and
cracked and about to cave in. One puff from a wolf, and the whole thing
would come crashing down.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8926">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8927">
Like I said, the whole house is falling
apart. It was new when we moved in, but that was 33 years ago. My
husband refers to it as our "pine box." That's comforting. But unless we
completely gut and remodel it, we're gonna need a better pine box.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8927">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8928">
Now
I'm starting to notice all kinds of things that need repair. The front
lawn could use resodding. Maybe we should invest in that fake lawn
stuff. It's supposed to last forever. The house needs a new paint job.
Maybe we should look into aluminum siding. </div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8928">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8929">
The carpets are like a
scrapbook of memories -- the spot where the kids spilled their grape
juice, the streaks from the permanent markers they got into, the stains
where the cats threw up. Personally I'd like all hardwood floors --
easier to clean up the grape juice and markers and cat puke. But they
cost more than what we originally paid for the house, and my husband
isn't down with that.</div>
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</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8935">
I figured we'd just move into the RV when
the house no longer kept us safe from the wolves at the door, but Tom
had a little accident on our trip home from Calistoga last weekend and
that caved in the left front end. Now it's in the shop being repaired.
Estimated time: at least two months just to find the right parts.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8935">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8934">
Oh
well. Now that we're nearing retirement, we'll just have to get used to
not keeping up with the practical neighbors. I'll buy some straw to
cover the carpet stains, cover up the old paint job with some decorative
stickers and spray the cat puke with that new "Bacon" fragrance.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8934">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1376005581598_8931">
Meanwhile we're having our RV rebuilt from bricks, just in case.</div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-21194020839462353992013-07-25T11:35:00.002-07:002013-07-25T11:35:24.169-07:00Playdate with a Princess<span id="default"><span id="MNGiSection"></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7EYtfqdxhKg/UfFvucHt9YI/AAAAAAAAALY/gK1TzSBcZ6o/s1600/lyla-princess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7EYtfqdxhKg/UfFvucHt9YI/AAAAAAAAALY/gK1TzSBcZ6o/s400/lyla-princess.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="bodytextragright">
<br /></div>
<div class="bodytextragright">
My 3-year-old granddaughter, Lyla, was over for a "play date" the other day.</div>
<div class="bodytextragright">
<br /></div>
A
"play date" is different from baby-sitting. Baby-sitting means just
keeping an eye on the kids so they return to their parents in decent, if
not good, health. But this was an actual "play date" because my
granddaughter required me to "play" with her the entire time she was
here.<br />
<br />
I had no idea what I was getting into. I thought "play"
meant we'd get out a couple of dolls, probably princesses, and have them
act out a scenario, usually "going to a birthday party."<br />
<br />
It started off
innocently enough. "Gramma, you be Belle, and I'll be Rapunzel," she
said, handing me the lesser of the two dolls while we sat on the floor.<br />
<br />
"OK," I said. I took lowly Belle and "walked" her over to Rapunzel a few inches away.<br />
<br />
"Hi, Rap," I said, beginning the action with a cool nickname.<br />
<br />
"No,
not like that!" Lyla said. "Her name is Rapunzel. And Belle doesn't
bounce. You have to hold her like this." A demonstration ensued, with
precise instructions on how I was to handle the doll.<br />
<br />
Gliding Belle over to Rapunzel, I tried again. "Hi, Rapunzel."<br />
<br />
"No,
not like that! You don't use your voice. You use Belle's voice, like
this." She proceeded to talk in a high-pitched sing-songy tone that I
hadn't used since I was, well, 3 years old.<br />
<br />
"Sorry." I raised my voice a few octaves and said, "Hi, Rapunzel."<br />
<br />
As soon as I thought I had it, Lyla changed the rules. "Pretend you're the mother and I'm the sister," she directed.<br />
<br />
"So do I use my normal voice or my princess voice?" I asked, not certain how to proceed.<br />
<br />
"Your normal voice," Lyla said, as if I should already know that. "And pretend it's Rapunzel's birthday."<br />
<br />
"Uh ... hi ... I mean, happy birthday, Rapunzel," I said, almost afraid to open my mouth.<br />
<br />
"Pretend she has a birthday cake," Lyla said.<br />
<br />
"Uh, here's a birthday cake for you," I said, then ad-libbed, "Can I have a piece?" Big mistake.<br />
<br />
"No, it's just for Rapunzel. Now sing 'Happy Birthday.' "<br />
<br />
"Happy Birthday to you ...." (The remaining lyrics are protected by copyright, but I sang the song anyway. So sue me.)<br />
<br />
"Pretend you got me a present," Lyla/Rapunzel said.<br />
<br />
And
so the play date continued, with Lyla instructing me step-by-step what
to do, what to say, how to hold the doll, what kind of voice to use and
what will happen next.<br />
<br />
Without the freedom to be my own princess, I
soon became bored out of my mind. I had to figure out a way to escape
this play date before I gave the doll a foul mouth, broke it in half and
threw it across the room. Five-year-old grandson Luke arrived in the
nick of time with his Chima action figure.<br />
<br />
"Luke, play with your sister," I told him.<br />
<br />
"Luke, pretend I'm a princess and you're the prince," Lyla said to Luke.<br />
<br />
Luke sat down on the floor with his action figure, picked up the princess and had them fight to the death.<br />
<br />
At that point I told everyone to go outside. "Play date" was over. Let the baby-sitting begin.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7EYtfqdxhKg/UfFvucHt9YI/AAAAAAAAALU/-7LmQzOGRWA/s1600/lyla-princess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-6506327801426672982013-04-04T14:11:00.004-07:002013-04-04T14:11:45.958-07:00Point-of-View<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
<strong>6 Reasons Why I Write in First
Person Point-of-View:</strong></div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
1. I can develop a close relationship with the
protagonist, and so can my readers.</div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
<a _mce_href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415a0e970c-pi" _mce_style="display: inline;" class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415a0e970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img _mce_src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415a0e970c-800wi" alt="Best friends" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415a0e970c" height="159" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415a0e970c-800wi" title="Best friends" width="159" /></a><br /></div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
2. I
can make my protagonist more real and believable. </div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
<a _mce_href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415a8a970c-pi" _mce_style="display: inline;" class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415a8a970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img _mce_src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415a8a970c-800wi" alt="Real woman" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415a8a970c" height="184" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415a8a970c-800wi" title="Real woman" width="153" /></a><br /></div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
3. I
can show more of my protagonist’s personality, quirks, etc. </div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
<a _mce_href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c381233ff970b-pi" _mce_style="display: inline;" class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c381233ff970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img _mce_src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c381233ff970b-800wi" alt="Personality" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c381233ff970b" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c381233ff970b-800wi" title="Personality" /></a><br /></div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
4. I
can jump inside my protagonist and “become” her.</div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
<a _mce_href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee9b5607f970d-pi" _mce_style="display: inline;" class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee9b5607f970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img _mce_src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee9b5607f970d-800wi" alt="Twins" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee9b5607f970d" height="177" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee9b5607f970d-800wi" title="Twins" width="182" /></a><br /></div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
5. I
can feel/experience what she’s going through. </div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
<a _mce_href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415bf7970c-pi" _mce_style="display: inline;" class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415bf7970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img _mce_src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415bf7970c-800wi" alt="Emotional" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415bf7970c" height="138" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d42415bf7970c-800wi" title="Emotional" width="200" /></a><br /></div>
<div _mce_style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
6. It’s
easier! </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a _mce_href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3812356d970b-pi" _mce_style="display: inline;" class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3812356d970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img _mce_src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3812356d970b-800wi" alt="Smile" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3812356d970b" height="144" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3812356d970b-800wi" title="Smile" width="200" /></a></div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-33652980234040300922013-04-04T14:02:00.000-07:002013-04-04T14:06:06.062-07:00A Night with a Wild Thing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K3_Znh2i1As/UV3rJxWu45I/AAAAAAAAAKs/CsrvzVlIbIA/s1600/wild+things.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="141" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K3_Znh2i1As/UV3rJxWu45I/AAAAAAAAAKs/CsrvzVlIbIA/s320/wild+things.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maurice Sendak would
have been proud. The Walnut Creek Library honored him posthumously with a
special tribute at its fourth annual “Authors Under the Stars” fundraiser last
weekend. And it was quite the rumpus.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’ve been a fan of
Sendak’s book, <u>Where the Wild Things Are</u>, since my kids were little.
Hard to believe it was published in 1963 and it’s still popular today, having
sold nearly 20 million copies worldwide. So when I was invited to participate
in the library gala, along with 19 other local authors, it was an offer I
couldn’t refuse. Proceeds would go to the Walnut Creek Library Foundation for new
books and materials. </div>
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Plus, my husband and I would get a free dinner.</div>
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About fifteen minutes before we were to leave for the
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do I even have a suit?”
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Let me look,” I said, fully
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Here are your pants,” I
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Once I had him in the car,
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sipping too much wine, we perused the silent auction. We couldn’t afford the
Hawaiian vacation home, the iPad mini, the Italian cooking classes, or golf at
Diablo Country Club, but we finally found something that fit our budget: Four
tickets to Disneyland!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Can we bid on them?” I
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I thought I saw him nod,
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You did what?” he said
when I told him. Frantic we might win, he tried to scratch out my signatures,
but it was too late. Luckily for him, most of the items we bid on went to
someone else. Except the Disney tickets! Yippee! Now all we have to do is pay
for the hotel, air fare, food, souvenirs, and extra tickets for the remaining
family members. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Because thanks to Mr.
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Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-41807391306614398792013-02-27T12:33:00.002-08:002013-02-27T12:33:31.639-08:00"Show" place with "telling details"<h3 class="entry-header">
<a href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/the_lady_killers/2013/02/create-a-sense-of-place-through-telling-details.html">Create a sense of place through telling details</a></h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I figured the other bloggers would do
a great job of sharing their techniques regarding "telling details," so
I thought I'd focus on just one aspect--creating a sense of place using
the five senses to show telling details, plus a couple more tips. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f3b5970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Mag glass" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f3b5970c" height="142" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f3b5970c-800wi" title="Mag glass" width="145" /></a><br />
1. Sight: Include three things you see in the scene that are unique to
your character's viewpoint. For example, if you're describing a school
classroom, you might mention the clock (waiting for school to get out),
the waste basket (where the teacher threw your homework), and the
graffiti on your desk (a picture of the teacher lying dead on the
floor.)<strong></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1582622971564785694"><img alt="Hear" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee8b6d8ab970d" height="110" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee8b6d8ab970d-800wi" title="Hear" width="103" /></a></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
2. Sound: Include 2 things you hear,
besides voices, such as a baby crying in the distance, a creak in the
old fence gate, a buzzing bee hovering around your head, or coins in
someone's pocket.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f556970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Smell" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f556970c" height="107" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f556970c-800wi" title="Smell" width="107" /></a><br /> 3.
Smell: Include something you smell in the air, such as someone's
perfume, a pie baking in the kitchen, a friend's popcorn breath, the
overflowing litter box, or mold in the attic.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f5f8970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Taste" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f5f8970c" height="100" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f5f8970c-800wi" title="Taste" width="102" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
4. Taste: Include something you taste,
but not necessarily something you're eating, such as the morning's
toothpaste, a mint you just popped in your mouth, peanut butter from
today's lunch, or the memory of a kiss.
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee8b6db65970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Touch" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee8b6db65970d" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee8b6db65970d-800wi" title="Touch" /></a><br />5.
Touch: Include something you feel physically, such as the wind on your
skin, a chill down your back, the grib of a strong hand, a baby pulling
your hair, or your itchy nose.</div>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f75e970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Feelings" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f75e970c" height="113" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f75e970c-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Feelings" width="113" /></a>
6. Plus: Include an internal reaction to the setting, such as a gut
reaction, raised goosebumps, shaking hands, a sweaty brow, or a cold
shiver.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f849970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Time" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f849970c" height="119" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017d4142f849970c-800wi" title="Time" width="82" /></a><br />7. Plus: Include the time of day, such as brisk morning, hot afternoon, cooling evening, humid night, or 2 am sleeplessness.</div>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3713b6ad970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Weather" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3713b6ad970b" height="81" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3713b6ad970b-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Weather" width="97" /></a>
8. Plus: Include the weather, such as dark and stormy night, windy day,
cloudy morning, flash flood warning, or smoggy summer.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3713b743970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Moode" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3713b743970b" height="81" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3713b743970b-800wi" title="Moode" width="136" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
9. Finally: Include the overall mood, such as creepy, foreboding, serene, excitement, or black.</div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-79470516741055340522013-02-24T18:42:00.002-08:002013-02-24T18:42:22.870-08:00Skype - It's almost like being there<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Not one to let a new
trend pass me by, I’ve recently learned to “Skype.” This cutting edge techno
fad has only been around since 2003—a mere ten years—which is about how long it
takes me to try something new. But since my husband is away on a business trip,
I thought I’d give it look-hear.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>First, let me explain
what Skype is, in case you haven’t tried anything new in ten years either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Skype is essentially a “video-phone” that
allows you to see your caller, simply by using your computer. I’ve always
wanted one of these, ever since watching Buck Rogers and Star Trek. As a kid, I
was sure Walt Disney was working on this telecommunications of the future.
After all, I saw prototypes at Disneyland’s House of the Future back in the
50s.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now, five decades later,
Skype, not Disney, finally came up with device that allows callers to not only
hear one another’s voices over long distance, but also <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">see</i> our loved ones dressed only in their underwear, our friends
drunk at a party, or our relatives’ cats. And it’s all free-ish!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>All you need is an
internet connection (not free), a computer with a microphone and speakers (not
free), and a “webcam” (not free). Once you have the equipment, then you simply
follow these easy steps:</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Download Skype and create yet another account
and forgettable password.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Click on one of your “contacts.” No one on your
contact list? Bummer. You’ll need some “contacts.”</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>When you finally get a contact, check to see if
he is online.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Click “video-call” and listen to the catchy Skype
tune while waiting for your friend to answer. </div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>When he does, smile (make sure there’s nothing
in your teeth), wave (the Queen’s wave is best since the viewing screen is
limited) and say hello (in fact, say it several times to make sure your friend
can hear you.)</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>While you chat, play with the options to
increase the esthetics of your call. Adjust your volume, change the light, add
color, include bizarre backgrounds, draw on mustaches, etc.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .75in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">7.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>If you can’t see your friend, click a bunch of keys,
check your settings, call tech support, go to the Apple genius bar, or hang up
and use your regular phone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
That’s it. Now, whenever my husband is on a business
trip, we Skype. Our conversations go something like this:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Me: “Hi!” (Remove
glasses.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Him: “Hi!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Me: “How was your day?”
(Hide new purchases.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Him: “Oh fine. Yours?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Me: “Fine.” (Lean out of
view and sneak a sip of wine.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Him: “What’s new?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Me: “Not much. What
about you?” (Play solitaire while waiting for answer.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Him: “Same. Just
watching sports on TV.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Me: “Ah.” (Turn on TV
and watch anything but sports.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Him: “Your hair’s sticking
out.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Me: “Thanks.” (Pat it
down.) “Have you put on weight?”<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Him: “Ga—be—du—mo—You’re breaking
up.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Me: “Yeah, you too.” (Matt
Damon is on Ellen!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After a few more words
of garbled jibberish, I shake my head, which means “This sucks” in Skype
language. We hang up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Pretty amazing stuff. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t wait until the next new invention. Maybe
3-D holograms of our loved ones beamed right into our homes, so we can sit and
drink wine and watch the news on TV together, without saying a word. Just like
real life.</div>
<div class="indent" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-5598889773445214322013-01-24T14:29:00.000-08:002013-01-24T14:29:56.955-08:00Grandma, what's a pencil?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CQrF3tFFHV0/UQG1Xu79XvI/AAAAAAAAAJo/4ninLUIWEJ0/s1600/pencil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CQrF3tFFHV0/UQG1Xu79XvI/AAAAAAAAAJo/4ninLUIWEJ0/s200/pencil.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br /><div class="yiv534786487bodytextragright" id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4862">
I
realize that if it weren't for technology, I wouldn't be writing this
column on my new laptop. But does it all have to be so complicated? </div>
<div class="yiv534786487bodytextragright" id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4864" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: times new roman, new york, times, serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4865">
It
seems as if every day there's a new gadget I should upgrade to -- and
then learn how to use. I think I spend more time reading manuals and
calling tech support than I do actually using the gizmo.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4870">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4871">
I'm
starting to sound like my grandmother, but things were simpler when I
used a pencil and paper to write articles and stories. If the lead
broke, I sharpened the pencil. And when the notepad was full, I started a
new one. </div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4872" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: times new roman, new york, times, serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4873">
Back then I never lost a year's worth of work because
the notebook "crashed." I never had to call tech services in order to
learn how to operate a writing utensil. Even when I "upgraded" to a
typewriter ('member typewriters?), it only took a few minutes to figure
out how to put words on paper ('member paper?). In fact, the most
complicated thing about my old typewriter was changing the ribbon, but I
managed without ever having to call The Geek Squad for help.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4874">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4875">
I
just bought myself an iPad mini, mainly because, like Goldilocks, my
iPad is too big, my iPhone is too small and the iPad Mini feels "just
right." Besides, it's cute, lightweight and fits in my purse.
Unfortunately, I've had it for a week and still can't download my mail,
surf the Internet or play Spider Solitaire. </div>
<div style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: times new roman, new york, times, serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4876">
I suppose there's an "app" for all that, since there doesn't appear to be a manual, but I can't find it. I've already got
some 50 other apps, including Instagram, Crackle, Zombie Café, Mirror,
Shazam, Dropbox, Beat the Traffic, Talking Tom, Crack Screen, Pandora,
Sound Effects and Mickey's Club House. I just don't have time to figure
out how to use them.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4885">
I've been on the phone for days calling
AT&T, Yahoo, my techie nephew and my son who thinks I'm an idiot, to
no avail. I've been to Best Buy's Geek Squad, Apple's Genius Bar and
some random guy who was holding a cellphone at Starbucks but with no
luck.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4884">
I'm still trying to figure out how to use the four remotes
for the TV/DVD/X-Box/Whatever. (We used to have six or seven, but we
lost those.) Plus we have something like 500 channels. I only use half a
dozen of them, but the rest are available to me, so I can watch
low-tech shows like "Honey Boo Boo," "Swamp People" and "Antiques Road
Show," featuring typewriters. I haven't seen my old friends in years,
but I know every detail of their lives, thanks to Facebook, Twitter and
TMI.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4883">
Things are only going to get worse. Coffee makers will become
more complicated as we try to make our own double-shot decaf mocha
frappachinos without an IT degree. When the post office finally shuts
down, I'll have to learn how to Photoshop my own stamps, find an app to
weigh my letters and figure out how to send packages via email. And if I
want to write a letter the old-fashioned way -- with pen and paper --
I'll have to learn how to use a stylus and e-pad.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4880">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4879">
I might as well get a degree in computer science. No problem. I'm sure there's an app for that.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359065915170_4881">
<br /></div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-19976532017818955022013-01-10T17:09:00.001-08:002013-01-10T17:09:29.026-08:00A trip back in time...plus cats<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CzZN7crY7uM/UO9mOJ5BrnI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Qyr8VMhWVII/s1600/cat-beat+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CzZN7crY7uM/UO9mOJ5BrnI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Qyr8VMhWVII/s200/cat-beat+up.jpg" width="196" /></a></div>
<br /><span></span><span></span><div class="yiv1969041526articleViewerGroup" id="yiv1969041526articleViewerGroup" style="border: 0px;">
<span class="yiv1969041526articleEmbeddedViewerBox"></span><span></span><span></span></div>
<span></span><div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9447">
There's
nothing like a trip to an Egyptian museum to remind you how finite life
is. I recently visited the <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1357866275_0">Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum</span> in San Jose to
do some research for my next book, and I felt like I was stepping back
in time. I mean, way back, like in Mr. Peabody's WABAC machine. Like thousands and thousands of years back. Really creepy back.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Thank
goodness we didn't bring the grandchildren. This place would have
scared the beetle dung out of them. Actually, I learned that beetle dung
plays an important part in Egyptian Cycle of Life mythology, hence my
use of that particular analogy. </div>
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<br /></div>
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We went in December, hoping to
avoid the stress of the holidays and spend some time in a serene
setting. We couldn't have picked a more serene place. When you're among
mummies and artifacts of dead people, there's no escaping serenity.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9450">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9451">
The
museum is made up of four rooms, each with a different theme, sort of
like Disneyland but without the rides, etc. We started in the Daily Life
room, which houses artifacts such as hair accessories, mirrors and
perfume bottles. I realized we women haven't come that far, considering
we're using the same things they used thousands and thousands of years
ago. I also found out they drank a lot of beer -- more of the cycle of
life.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9452">
We learned lots of Egyptian facts, in case we're ever on
"Jeopardy." Things like how important cats were as far back as 6,000
years ago. The museum even had mummified cats that were buried with their owners. Egyptians
thought of their cats as magical protectors. Some cats wore jewelry,
like earrings, and had fancy names, like "Ta-Miewet," "Bastet," and
"Kitty."All of today's cats are descendants of Egyptian cats. No wonder
our cats act like they're something special.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9453">
The museum offers a
how-to guide on mummifying. If you're interested, here are the basics:
First wash the body. Then cast a bunch of magical spells over it. Then
give it to Anubis, the god of embalming. Anubis drains all the fluids
(bodies are mostly water and beer), removes the brains (don't need them
in the afterlife), and removes the innards, except for the heart. Next
he pours wine over the area to disinfect it. (Have some wine yourself if
you're feeling squeamish.)Then dry out the innards and place
them in canopic, or "jelly" jars. Douse the skin with perfume, since
dead bodies usually have an odor about them, then wrap the body up tight
with festive fabric. Drop in a few amulets -- lucky charms, like
scarabs (those dung beetles) -- and place in coffin. Decorate the
outside with poster paints, sequins and other craft materials.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9462">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9454">
On
our way out we dropped by the "gift store," which is little more than a
countertop with some cool papyrus bookmarks. I was hoping to buy some
amulets for good luck, or even a cat mummy toy for Tiger, Max and Baby
to play with, but the bookmarks would have to do.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9455">
I learned a lot,
mostly that we don't do enough for our cats. Must get Max a Rolex, Baby
some nice earrings and Tiger a tiara. Don't want to lose the good luck
these cats have brought us so far. And all those mice.</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9460">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9456" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: times new roman, new york, times, serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9458">
Visit the Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum at <a href="http://www.egyptianmuseum.org/" id="yui_3_7_2_1_1357865278961_9459" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1357866275_1">http://www.egyptianmuseum.org</span></a>.</div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-59332000074846608952012-11-29T08:16:00.002-08:002012-11-29T08:16:29.591-08:00Outlet Mall - Empty Wallet ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qCHIh2czATw/ULeKRcclQ7I/AAAAAAAAAJE/JPo18pxJYdE/s1600/confused.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qCHIh2czATw/ULeKRcclQ7I/AAAAAAAAAJE/JPo18pxJYdE/s200/confused.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rTcDj2sR7L8/ULeKKkhdSjI/AAAAAAAAAI8/GZqnUWfTigU/s1600/waiting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
Like many other women in the area—and even some men—I’ve been looking forward to the opening of the Paragon Outlet Mall. But when I heard about the crowds and personally experienced the freeway delays just trying to get to Livermore, I decided I could wait a few days before checking out the latest bargains. <br />
<br />So after the crowds died down, I got a good night’s sleep, had a hearty breakfast, dressed in sportswear and athletic shoes (Life is Good T-shirt on sale at Marshall’s, jeans on sale at Kohls, Converse All-Stars on sale at Target) and headed for El Charro Road off ramp an hour before the doors opened.<br />
<br /> Naturally, I got there in fifteen minutes. There was very little traffic and no tie-ups on 580 the day I went, so I had plenty of time to circle the parking lot and find a space. I hung around near Saks until the witching hour when they finally let me inside, in spite of my suburban-grunge-chic outfit and Disneyland decorated purse.<br />
<br /> I browsed Saks for a few minutes until I realized I couldn’t even afford a pair of half-off socks, let alone something that covered up more skin. Trying to act cool as the sweat beaded on my forehead, I dashed to the other side of the store—and out into the open air mall.<br />
<br /> The place is huge. I didn’t count them, but I’d heard there were at least 130 stores, everything from Armani to Yankee Candles (surprisingly, nothing for the letter Z.) Many of the brands I’d not heard of, but then, I’m not used to shopping on Rodeo Drive or wearing anything that costs more than my house payment. The stores I had heard of—Barney’s, Bloomies, Burberry—were out of my league, so I didn’t have the courage to even step inside. Instead I looked for brands I’m used to. <br />
<br />While they didn’t have any Life is Good t-shirts or Tom shoes or even Victoria Secrets underwear (not that I wear them), I did find a nice Converse store, a Ghirardelli Chocolate outlet, and a Chico’s shop. Unfortunately, I already own plenty of athletic shoes, leftover Halloween candy, and arty-looking tops, so I spent an hour walking by windows and searching for the food court. <br />
<br />There were half a dozen mini-restaurants to satisfy the hungry customer, but all I wanted was a bakery treat and coffee, so I ducked into Cinnabon for something called “Center of the Roll,” which means they just sell you the good part in the middle of the cinnamon roll (with extra sugary icing). Yum. I figured after all that walking, I’d burned enough calories to eat it guilt free.<br />
<br /> I never found the bargains I was looking for, but then my tastes are limited to cotton, denim, and fleece. A friend of a friend had hit the Prada—or was it Coach?—outlet and got a purse for half off. Of course, the purse was $2,000 to begin with, so half off still wasn’t within my budget. But the Cinnabon was tasty, the walk was good for me, and esthetics were pleasing. Plus, I didn’t have to spend two hours in my car trying to get off the freeway. <br />
<br />I’d call it bargain.<br />Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-6188690941467666252012-11-22T15:06:00.001-08:002012-11-22T15:06:13.432-08:00Writing Rituals<h3 class="entry-header">
<a href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/the_lady_killers/2012/11/writing-about-writing-rituals.html">Writing about writing rituals</a></h3>
<div class="entry-content">
<div class="entry-body">
Instead of actually writing my book today, I decided to write
down some ideas for writing rituals that get me into that writing
state. Boy, do I have a lot of rituals to deal with before getting
those words on paper. Like: <br />
<img alt="" height="155" id="ihover-img" src="http://ts4.mm.bing.net/th?id=I.4632105853256339&pid=15.1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="104" />1.
Begin at a certain time. I’m a morning person so I need to get to work
early, before I run out of energy or life gets in the way.<br />
<img alt="" height="128" id="ihover-img" src="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/th?id=H.5058879522800813&pid=15.1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="117" />2.
Nest. Instead of working in my office, I cozy up on the family room
couch, put my feet up, wrap myself in a blanket, adjust all the pillows,
and get to work.<br />
<img alt="" height="130" id="ihover-img" src="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/th?id=I.4798535798030653&pid=15.1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="152" />3.
Look out the window. There’s something about gazing into my backyard
that seems to help when I’m working on a particular sentence or story.
Perhaps I think I’ll find the answer out there.<br />
<img alt="" height="97" id="ihover-img" src="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/th?id=I.4781549236650161&pid=15.1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="114" />4.
Clean house. I can’t write if my surroundings are messy. It seems to
make my brain messy. Granted, if someone walked in and saw my coffee
table full of papers, notes, to-do lists, calendars, pens, and files,
they wouldn’t think I had a clean mind at all.<br />
<img alt="" height="140" id="yui_3_5_1_15_1353457049135_866" src="http://ts4.mm.bing.net/th?id=I.4638299166148447&pid=15.1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px;" width="125" />5.
Take a walk. Usually I take a walk around Target or the Mall, rather
than just a random walk around the block. I figure I can do some errands
while getting some exercise and taking a break to work out a problem.<br />
<img alt="" height="143" id="ihover-img" src="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/th?id=I.4860258809086049&pid=15.1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="139" />6.
Listen to music. I can’t listen while I’m writing, but I listen before
and after, to get myself in a particular mood – Gangnam Style if I need
energy, You Picked Me if I need romance, Zydeco if I need a mental
break.<br />
<img alt="" height="148" id="ihover-img" src="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/th?id=I.4689675600660137&pid=15.1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="104" />7.
Use a favorite pen. There’s only one kind of pen I like—a fine point
marker. I feel like I’m drawing my words rather than just writing them.
Love the way they feel on paper.<br />
<img alt="" height="146" id="ihover-img" src="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/th?id=I.4853094795707281&pid=15.1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="125" />8.
Drink coffee. When I need a moment to reflect, I like to reach over and
sip from my mug of coffee—a mocha, actually. Makes me feel like a
writer.<br />
<img alt="" height="101" id="ihover-img" src="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/th?id=I.4968603636925781&pid=15.1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="168" />9.
Be comfortable. I have a writing uniform—jeans, soft fluffy socks, and a
Life is Good t-shirt. I can’t wear pajamas or I’ll go back to bed. And
why dress up when it’s just me and the computer?<br />
<img alt="" height="152" id="ihover-img" src="http://ts3.mm.bing.net/th?id=I.4919194356025338&pid=15.1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="135" />10.
Read. When I’m done for the day, I refuel by reading other people’s
work. That usually inspires me to write better and keep at it!<br />
<br />
So what are your writing rituals? <br />
</div>
</div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-61968862803262331982012-11-07T17:11:00.000-08:002012-11-07T17:11:21.303-08:00Writing Advice<h3 class="entry-header">
</h3>
<div class="entry-content">
<div class="entry-body">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee4d1638e970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Woman shooting computer" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee4d1638e970d" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017ee4d1638e970d-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Woman shooting computer" /></a><br />When I need writerly advice, I go to the experts. (I really should have these words of wisdom tattoed on my arm...)<br />
<br />The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. ~Sylvia Plath<br /><br />I'm not a very good writer, but I'm an excellent rewriter. ~James Michener<br /><br />The wastebasket is a writer's best friend. ~Isaac Bashevis Singer<br /><br />If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster. ~Isaac Asimov<br /><br />A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. ~Baltasar Gracián<br /><br />I
asked Ring Lardner the other day how he writes his short stories, and
he said he wrote a few widely separated words or phrases on a piece of
paper and then went back and filled in the spaces. ~Harold Ross<br /><br />Writing comes more easily if you have something to say. ~Sholem Asch<br /><br />The best time for planning a book is while you're doing the dishes. ~Agatha Christie<br /><br />The road to hell is paved with adverbs. ~Stephen King<br /><br />It
is plagiarism when you take something out of a book and use it as your
own. If you take it out of several books then it is research. ~ Ralph
Foss<br /><br />It is impossible to discourage the real writers - they don't give a damn what you say, they're going to write. ~Sinclair Lewis<br />
<br />
And finally...from William Safire<br />
<br />
Do not put statements in the negative form.<br />And don't start sentences with a conjunction.<br />If you reread your work, you will find on rereading that a great deal of repetition can be avoided by rereading and editing.<br />Never use a long word when a diminutive one will do.<br />Unqualified superlatives are the worst of all.<br />Proofread carefully to see if you any words out. <br />De-accession euphemisms.<br />If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is.<br />Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky.<br />Last, but not least, avoid cliches like the plague.<br />~William Safire, "Great Rules of Writing"<br />
</div>
</div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-54294836768669552572012-10-18T21:32:00.002-07:002012-10-18T21:32:31.662-07:00Junking the Gas Guzzler<br /> A couple of years ago we bought our first SUV, mainly because it was half price and had enough car seats for all the grandchildren—plus a built-in TV. No longer did I have to sing the Wiggles song, “Fruit Salad, Yummy Yummy,” or point out all the Big Trucks we passed to keep the kids amused. Looney Tunes would take care of them.<br />
<br /> Then the economy deflated like a bad tire, the price of gas blew up faster than an airbag, and we were left holding the keys to a car that barely got 15 miles to the gallon. We could only afford to drive it to the gas station and back before having to refill the bottomless tank with what appeared to have become liquid gold.<br />
<br /> It was time to do something about this money pit before we went bankrupt. While I hated to give up on our “luxury car” (heated seats!), I searched the Internet for a site that would tell me the value of my car so I could sell it on eBay, take the cash, and buy a small, money-saving vehicle that got at least 16 miles to the gallon. <br />
<br />After checking Blue Book and sending my car stats to AutoTrader.com, I got the results—and they were better than I expected. They must have missed the part where it only got 15 miles to the gallon, but I didn’t have the heart to tell them. Now we wouldn’t have to pay to have the car towed away. They would pay us—almost enough to buy a new Smart Car. It was a start.<br />
<br />My husband and I had very different ideas about what kind of car we’d buy next. I had my heart set on an adorable yellow Mini Cooper Countryman at the local car lot, but after a test drive around the block, my husband deemed the car too small for our purposes—hauling around grandkids, carrying suitcases, packing groceries, and fitting in garage sale finds. <br />
<br />He had his eye on the Volt, the all electric car that he said would be “the car of the future.” <br />
<br />“You never have to go to the gas station!” he said. “Just plug it in and take off down the road…” At least for a few miles until you have find an outlet and recharge the battery again. And what about the electric bill? Our bill is already too high. No doubt we’d double it by plugging in a whole car every night.<br />
<br />So we compromised and decided to check out a car that was somewhere in between—the Prius. We have friends who own a Prius and they love it. “Drives like a dream. Rarely have to go to the pump. Plenty of room.” Yadda, yadda, yadda. <br />
<br /> Okay, so we’d take a look at this miracle car—but just a look. It wasn’t like we had to buy something immediately. That old SUV would surely last until the final drop of gas in the world had been consumed, right? Besides, we’re not impulse buyers. We like to shop around, sleep on it, and not make any snap decisions.<br />
<br /> Yeah, well, they don’t call them car salesmen for nothing….<br />
<br /> He saw us coming the minute we drove up the street. We were barely out of our gas-guzzling SUV before he was asking us what color we wanted. So much for playing it cool. Still, we’re not rookies. We’ve bought cars before. We knew the game.<br />
<br /> “Just looking,” I said, strolling through the lot as if we were just killing time until the nearby movie theater opened. <br />
<br /> “So, what are you looking to buy?” said the car salesman, strolling behind us as if he knew there were no good movies playing.<br />
<br /> “Uh, not sure,” I said, keeping it vague. “We’re thinking of trading in our suburban tank for something that mostly coasts.”<br />
<br /> “I can do that,” said the car salesman. He shook his head in pity at our SUV.<br />
<br /> “Auto Trader said our insatiable beast is worth a lot of money,” I said.<br />
<br /> “I can do that,” said the car salesman. <br />
<br /> “We don’t want to spend much more on a new car,” I said.<br />
<br /> “I can do that,” said the car salesman.<br />
<br /> Oh, so he wanted to play hardball, eh? We could do that. <br />
<br /> “To tell you the truth, we plan to test drive a couple of other cars before we make a decision,” I said. “My husband likes the Chevy Volt because it’s all electric and never needs gas. And I like the Mini Cooper Countryman because it’s so cute.”<br />
<br /> “Then the Prius is perfect for both of you,” the car salesman said. “Gets fifty miles to the gallon, compared to your old car which probably gets fifteen.”<br />
<br /> “More like twelve,” my husband mumbled.<br />
<br /> The car salesman laughed. “Then driving a Prius is like driving for free.” <br />
<br /> At that point, he went on tell my husband all about the physics of driving a car that practically runs on air. He threw out words like, “aerodynamic,” “coefficient of drag reduction,” “estimated fuel efficiency rating,” “increased torque,” “electric water pump,” “power train,” “inverter and transaxle,” “ecological bioplastics made from cellulose (cellulite?), kenaf (hibiscus family), and ramie (nettle family).”<br />
<br />My husband’s eyes widened with each point. He’s a sucker for that kind of stuff.<br />
<br />Then the car salesman turned to me and began his practiced, hard-sell technique.<br />
<br />“What color?”<br />
<br />I smiled. This guy thinks he knows what women want? Ha!<br />
<br />“Seafoam,” I told him, smugly. There was no way I would become one of those Prius drivers who rarely accelerate to save gas while watching the digital display window that constantly shows the MPG instead of watching the road.<br />
<br />We never made it to the Chevy or Cooper lots. The car salesman made us a deal we couldn’t refuse. Three hours later we left behind our fuel-wasting dinosaur and drove home in a new Seafoam, battery-charged, practically gasless car. We rationalized that the money we’d save on fuel would cover the new hefty monthly payment. <br />
<br />Of course, we’re going to have to grow our own organic food, listen only to NPR, recycle our laundry lint, vote the green (Seafoam?) party, become Wiccans, decorate the house in earth tones, join the Occupy/protest movement, drive ten miles below the speed limit, and ride our bikes instead of using the car.<br />
<br />
That’s fine.<br />
<br />I just hope I can figure out how to drive it without a class in physics. Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-52401037807320447542012-09-21T08:39:00.002-07:002012-09-21T08:39:25.988-07:00Book Tour Reality: Where's the restroom?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-blq5BKD-u1o/UFyKDDqimII/AAAAAAAAAIs/OntzXHOEAlw/s1600/book-gun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="249" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-blq5BKD-u1o/UFyKDDqimII/AAAAAAAAAIs/OntzXHOEAlw/s320/book-gun.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’m on a book tour,
helping to showcase the two new authors I mentioned in my last column. There’s
nothing as exciting as having your first book published. Like giving birth,
you’ve put in the labor, the baby had been delivered, and now it’s time to send
out announcements and show off the newest addition to the family.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
We’ve already had some great events at local bookstores
and libraries, and there are more to come. We’ve brought along wine, bookmarks,
and chocolate as bribes. Rodney Worth from the Prickly Pear even donated some yummy
“amuse bouches” for an event. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’m hoping the tour
continues to go smoothly. My first book tours weren’t quite as good as these
latest ones. In fact, the very first time I did an event, no one came, and I ended
up buying four books and losing money. But I didn’t have the heart to tell
these new authors what my experience has been. It would only scare them off.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Here are some examples
of my first book event, which was held in an unnamed chain bookstore that has
since gone out of business (I don’t think I had anything to do with that but
you never know). After setting up a table and displaying my brand new book,
this is what I encountered:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
1: “Where’s the travel/cookbook/self-help section?” (I don’t know. I don’t work
here.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
2: “Does your book have anything to do with Alaska/wine-making/attention
deficit hyperactivity disorder?” (No, that would be the travel section, the
cookbook section, or the self-help section.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
3: “Do you know Sue Grafton/James Patterson/Carolyn Keene? I’ve read all their
books!” (No, Sue doesn’t return my calls, James has other people writing his
books, and Carolyn Keene doesn’t exist.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
4: “Have I ever heard of you?” (Apparently not.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
5: “My sister’s best friend’s aunt has a copy of your book so I don’t need to
buy it.” (Great.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
6: “How did you get published?” (I hounded an agent, editor, and publisher
until they gave in.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
7: “Is this a mystery? Because I don’t read mysteries.” (No, it’s a literary
novel featuring a heroic detective, a flawed victim, and a sensitive killer.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
8: “My teacher said I had to go to a book signing for extra credit. Will you
sign this form to prove I was here?” (For five bucks.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
9: “Can I find your books on e-Bay?” (Sure. And one day you’ll find me on
Craig’s List, under “Will write for food.”)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
10: “Is this free?” (Yes, the glossy bookmarks, glasses of wine, little toys, personalized
pens, cute luggage tags, embossed notepads, and gourmet chocolates are free…if
you buy the book.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
11: “Will you read my manuscript?” (Will you read my book?)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Possible Customer Number
12: “Do you validate parking?” (Will you validate my life’s work?)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Luckily, those days are
over. No more questions about travel books, Sue Grafton, or parking validation.
However, I’m still losing money, since I can’t get out of a bookstore without
buying my weight in books. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-16686181857725005802012-09-19T20:49:00.000-07:002012-09-19T20:49:28.202-07:007 Steps to Self-Discipline for Writers<h3 class="entry-header">
</h3>
Anne Lamott said the best thing you can do to write a book is
put your butt in the chair. Sounds easy, but what about all those
distractions that seem to levitate us from those seats? Here are some
ways to keep your butt in the chair without the use of Super Glue.<br />
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c78fc2970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Cellphone" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c78fc2970b" height="124" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c78fc2970b-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Cellphone" width="96" /></a>1.
Turn off the phone. Aside from a call from your agent or editor, you
really don’t need to talk to anyone during your “writing time.” That’s
what “Leave a message” means. And while you're at it, turn off Facebook,
Spider Solitaire, Pinterest, YouTube, and that Gangnam Style video...<br />
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c79207970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Houseclean" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c79207970b" height="144" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c79207970b-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Houseclean" width="169" /></a>2.
Overlook the dust bunnies. As long as you haven’t been featured on that
Hoarders show, your house is probably clean enough. Remove the stack of
writers’ magazines from your chair, clear the cat off the computer, and
get to work.<br />
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017744a541ab970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Tennis" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017744a541ab970d" height="171" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017744a541ab970d-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Tennis" width="123" /></a>3.
Skip the tennis game. You have a choice—write or play tennis. If you
play tennis, or do any other kind of distraction, what will you have to
show at the end of the day? A sore rotator cuff. But writers have plenty
to show, like hundreds and hundreds of words, all leading to a finished
book. (And maybe a touch of carpal tunnel.)<br />
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c79301970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Tv" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c79301970b" height="138" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c79301970b-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Tv" width="141" /></a>4.
Unplug the TV. I know you’re tempted to find out who’s on Jerry
Springer today, thinking his bizarre guest may be grist for the mill.
But how many times can you write about paternity tests? Give your
characters some fresh drama—like a murder to solve.<br />
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c7937a970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Kids bus" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c7937a970b" height="138" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c7937a970b-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Kids bus" width="194" /></a>5.
Farm out the kids. If you’ve got young children and spend your time
making cookies, playing with playdough, and combing out hair snarls,
drop them off at a “play date” or get a babysitter for an hour or two
each day. Surely you deserve a parenting break so you can write that
children’s mystery.<br />
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017744a54331970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Waiting" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017744a54331970d" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017744a54331970d-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Waiting" /></a>6.
Spend “quality time” with your book when you can’t be in the chair.
Think up character names while in line at the post office, figure out a
plot point while you’re showering, and brainstorm some compelling titles
while doing the downward dog.<br />
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c79482970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Car woman" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c79482970b" height="84" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31c79482970b-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Car woman" width="71" /></a>7.
Set a quota. Promise yourself you won’t leave the chair until you’ve
completed a set number of words, pages, or chapters. Then reward
yourself for your productivity, with a carton of ice cream, a designer
outfit, or a new car. You deserve it!<br /><br />Now get to work...or something distracting you?Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-72286038096968408622012-08-29T12:29:00.003-07:002012-08-29T12:29:53.861-07:00You CAN judge a book by its cover....right?<h3 class="entry-header">
I love book covers!</h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177d9a89970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Angels and demons" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20176177d9a89970c" height="226" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177d9a89970c-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Angels and demons" width="149" /></a>I love book covers. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I hate to admit it, but I’ve bought books
based on their covers, like Angels and Demons, where the title can be read upside-down as well as rightside-up. The book wasn't
so great, but the cover was awesome. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Covers do make a difference.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da92a970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Dbl" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da92a970c" height="203" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da92a970c-800wi" title="Dbl" width="203" /></a><br />When
my Connor Westphal series first came out, the covers were classic
mystery covers—graveyards, skulls, blood, cats. Then, when the books
sold to Japan, the covers looked more like “Barbie Does Murder,” with a
cute blonde riding on a motor scooter. The German version was just the
opposite—</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
dark, gloomy, like “Connor Does Poe.” </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What a difference.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e201774464264a970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Cw-dbl-1-cover" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e201774464264a970d" height="274" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e201774464264a970d-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Cw-dbl-1-cover" width="183" /></a>After
deciding to e-publishing my Connor Westphal series, I had to find
someone to design new covers for the books. I wanted something different
from the originals, something that suggested these were cozy, fun books
with a strong female protagonist set in a colorful Gold Country town.
That’s about as much as I knew. Luckily I discovered Karen Phillips at
Left Coast Crime and I couldn’t be happier with her work. She made
Connor and her dog Casper really “come alive.” </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da12c970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Code-2-cover" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da12c970c" height="222" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da12c970c-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Code-2-cover" width="148" /></a>The
covers for my middle-grade series are completely different. Quirky,
modern, fun. They capture the mystery element and spookiness of
Alcatraz, while showcasing the four bright kids on a quest. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017744642871970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="A for alibi" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017744642871970d" height="146" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017744642871970d-800wi" title="A for alibi" width="91" /></a>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da298970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="One for money" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da298970c" height="148" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da298970c-800wi" title="One for money" width="92" /></a><br />In
my opinion, Sue Grafton and Janet Evanovich have boring covers. But they don’t need to worry. It’s their names that sell their books.
They could put a picture of a dead cat on the cover and the book would
sell.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I’ve had a lot of favorite book covers
over the years—too many to list. But here are a couple of recent ones
that show the range of mystery novel covers today.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3186885e970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Mercurys rise" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3186885e970b" height="154" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c3186885e970b-800wi" title="Mercurys rise" width="97" /></a><br />Ann
Parker’s cover for Mercury’s Rise is perfect for her historical western
mystery series. I love the black and white images that suggest that
time period. The cover instantly transport me.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da4e5970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Twisted vines" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da4e5970c" height="154" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da4e5970c-800wi" title="Twisted vines" width="154" /></a><br />The
cover of Carole Price’s new mystery, Twisted Vines, captures both
elements of her story, combining Shakespeare and the wine country. The
spirit of the Bard hovers over the vineyard.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da599970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Going organic" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da599970c" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176177da599970c-800wi" title="Going organic" /></a><br /><br />Staci
McLaughlin’s new mystery, Going Organic Can Kill You, has a classic
cozy cover, with a friendly farm, cute animals, and a pleasant
atmosphere. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hard to imagine murder lurks among the corn and tomatoes…</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
All great book covers that show the range of mysteries. And there are so many more.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Of course, a book cover like this might be the solution to any cover quandary…<br />
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31868ae0970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Wood book" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31868ae0970b" height="269" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017c31868ae0970b-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Wood book" width="319" /></a>Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-62061493322025201812012-08-27T08:55:00.002-07:002012-08-27T08:55:44.472-07:00I'm having a heat wave<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H2AGDnRXjUo/UDuYPs6S1LI/AAAAAAAAAIU/l-wUng2ohG4/s1600/heat+wave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H2AGDnRXjUo/UDuYPs6S1LI/AAAAAAAAAIU/l-wUng2ohG4/s200/heat+wave.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
I hope, by the time this appears in the newspaper, our infernal heat wave is over. I don’t tolerate heat well. Of course, I don’t tolerate cold well, nor wind, snow, spring hay fever, fog, or even mild overcast. I like room temperature—a temperature I can control with the flick of a heat/air conditioner switch.<br />
<br /> So you can imagine how well I’ve tolerated this last week. Not well at all.<br />
<br /> I went online at the beginning of our Valley Warming to see what I could do to beat the heat. The government, or someone in charge of power usage, asked us not to turn on our air conditioners or anything else that might cool us down during the major part of the day so we could spare the air. Apparently it was all right to use the air in the morning and in the middle of the night, but not actually during the heat. So I checked out the National Wiki-Weather Service to find tips to prevent myself from melting into a pile of ectoplasm all over the floor. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GPNjRqKFIjE/UDuYZeRtGwI/AAAAAAAAAIc/vadCnAkO6YE/s1600/heat+wave+-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GPNjRqKFIjE/UDuYZeRtGwI/AAAAAAAAAIc/vadCnAkO6YE/s1600/heat+wave+-2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />1. Listen to the Weather Channel all day for critical updates. I did. The critical updates were: More heat coming. Hotter today. Really really hot soon. So hot you could deep fry a Twinkie on the sidewalk. Got it.<br />
<br />2. Stay hydrated by drinking plenty of fluids, but avoid alcohol and caffeine. What? I can’t think of anything better than an iced mocha frappuccino on a hot day, except maybe a margarita on the blender. <br />
<br />3. Eat small meals and eat often. Not sure about the logic in this except that if you have a big old turkey dinner, you might fall asleep and miss the heat wave. So instead I ate snacks throughout the day—chips, chocolate, cookies, cupcakes, ice cream—stuff like that. I didn’t feel any cooler and I gained five pounds.<br />
<br />4. Avoid extreme temperature changes. Seriously? Then why did Mother Nature give us Hot Flashes along with Heat Waves?<br />
<br />5. Wear loose-fitting, lightweight, light-colored clothing. What would that be? My bathing suit? Too tight. My wool parka? Too heavy. My black underwear? Yeah, right. That leaves my shoes.<br />
<br />6. Avoid strenuous exercise. Actually, I’ve been doing that for years, even in cold weather. During the heat wave, I took it down a notch to sloth. <br />
<br />7. Go to cool places. I’ve been to the mall (bought a sweatshirt for the coming Cold Wave), restaurants (to have those non-alcoholic drinks), and Costco (excellent freezer section), but you can only loiter so long before security guards ask you to put your clothes back on and leave.<br />
<br />8. Place your sheets in the freezer until bedtime. That way, when they melt, you’ll be sleeping on wet sheets.<br />
<br />9. Buy a fan. One of those folded ones that women used to use to cover their faces in the Victorian age. They’re light-weight, portable, and hide the sweat all over your face. For added fun, cover them with decals and stickers that say “Zombies are Coming!” or “Stay Calm and Drink Margaritas.”<br />
<br />I think I’ll just suck on Popsicles while sitting in the bathtub filled with ice cubes and wait it out. Before I know it, winter will be here and I can complain about the cold.<br /><br />Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-45138158868806023092012-08-13T08:52:00.000-07:002012-08-13T08:52:02.296-07:00My Summer Sand Bucket List<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e85i8OyAu3E/UCkikI0-XdI/AAAAAAAAAIE/CxZYyz-b0tY/s1600/summer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e85i8OyAu3E/UCkikI0-XdI/AAAAAAAAAIE/CxZYyz-b0tY/s1600/summer.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />I can't believe summer is almost over! Why is it that the rest of the year seems to last as long as a winter cold, but summer evaporates faster than water in a kiddie pool?<br />Here's my Summer Sand Bucket List -- all the things I still want to do before August ends.<br /><br />1) Host Grandma Camp for the Grandchildren. I tried this last year but the kids were too young for the crafts. The 6-year-old painted the birdhouse in less than 60 seconds and the 1-year-old stuffed it so full of Chex Mix that there was no room for a bird. As soon as I find a craft that's more age-appropriate -- and takes longer than five minutes to complete -- I'll reopen Grandma Camp.<br /><br />2) Lose Weight. It's not easy to lose a few pounds when the smell of barbecue hits your nostrils every night. I gave up trying on bathing suits several years (and childbirths) ago. Now I just grab my old stretched out suit, wrap a towel around myself until I hit the water, and enjoy the false feeling of weightlessness in the pool.<br /><br />3) Go someplace. We've done the local RV thing and stayed in every park from West Sacramento to Gilroy. But I'd like to go someplace where we don't have to hook up a sewer line, search for Internet service and listen to other RVers talk about their generators.<br /><br />4) Write some books. I'd planned to write a blockbuster like "Fifty Shades of Tan" (a beach read), a nonfiction bestseller like "Shopping is Real (and so is Chocolate)" and a kids' book like "The Hungry Games" (an activity/cookbook for kids). But summer's nearly over, I'm only halfway through my next Code Busters Club book and so far none of the characters has picked up a bow and arrow. <br /><br />5) Learn something new. Every summer I try to learn a new skill, such as housecleaning or cooking or bill-paying, but I usually lose interest around day two and go back to what I know best -- house-cluttering, eating and spending. I think learning how to perform Lasik surgery might be easier.<br /><br />6) Try a new fashion style. I wear the same outfits all year -- denim jeans, "Life is Good" T-shirts and Toms shoes. I need to branch out and change my look. For the rest of summer, I plan to go rogue, style-wise, and wear only denim shorts, "Hello Kitty" T-shirts and tropical print Toms. Maybe even an Angry Birds shirt.<br /><br />7) Have more fun. I haven't been to a single free concert this summer and the Valley offers plenty of them. Last weekend I could have gone to hear a Justin Bieber cover band or an aging heavy metal group sing "Call Me, Maybe," but I just stayed home and listened to my two granddaughters belt out the chorus of "Somebody That I Used to Know."<br /><br />8) Enjoy my own backyard. We've worked hard to make our backyard a place to relax, have barbecues and enjoy the weather. I'm going to spend these last few weeks soaking up the sunshine (with SPF 500), sipping a cool coffee drink (low-fat, no sugar, no whip, decaf, small) and reading the newspaper (What? Gary Bogue is retiring? No!!!).<br /><br />That's my summer sand bucket list. What's yours?Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-62354810536872286462012-07-26T16:49:00.001-07:002012-07-26T16:49:17.838-07:00Grandson swims - I get soaked...<div id="yiv789927008">
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r2jyNQXJuYY/UBHXZ5bEJQI/AAAAAAAAAH4/FlbLj7Mo470/s1600/swimmer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r2jyNQXJuYY/UBHXZ5bEJQI/AAAAAAAAAH4/FlbLj7Mo470/s200/swimmer.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: times new roman, new york, times, serif; font-size: 12pt;">
<br /><span></span><span></span><div class="yiv789927008entry-content">
<div class="yiv789927008articleBody" id="yiv789927008articleBody">
<div class="yiv789927008articleViewerGroup" id="yiv789927008articleViewerGroup" style="border: 0px;">
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<span></span><div class="yiv789927008bodytextragright">
We've
been spending a lot of time in the pool lately, much like we do every
summer in this valley. When my kids were little, they went swimming so
often, it's a wonder they didn't grow gills, sport scales and smell like
fish. </div>
<div class="yiv789927008bodytextragright">
<br /></div>
<div>
Naturally, when my kids grew up they immediately put their
own kids in the pool. The boys -- ages 4 and 7 -- spend most of their
time doing cannonballs, while the girls -- ages 2 and 3 -- tell the boys
to stop splashing them. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Nothing has changed. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Except that
my kids never did any kind of organized swimming. They preferred yelling
"Marco Polo" to taking timed trials. However my 7-year-old grandson,
Bradley, has joined a swim team. And he's mastered everything from
freestyle to butterfly, from breast stroke to backstroke. He practices
every day and goes to swim meets once or twice a week.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've been
wanting to go to a swim meet, but apparently they last all day and
Bradley is only in the pool a few minutes. So the other day when my
daughter-in-law invited me to come watch him swim at a fundraiser for
his team, I jumped on it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It sounded perfect. "Put me down for a
dollar a lap," I said to my daughter-in-law. I mean, how many laps can a
7-year-old kid do? Besides, this pool looked extra long. I figured he'd
be out of there in four to six laps or five minutes, whichever came
first.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I set up a lawn chair at the other end of the pool to show him my support -- until I was approached by the coach and told
I had to leave the pool area. Apparently no parents or grandparents are
allowed on deck. Instead I could "watch" the event from behind the
fence. What? How was I supposed to scream "Go Bradley!" when I could
barely see him?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Well, rules are rules, and I didn't want to be
one of those obnoxious grandparents who argues with the coach every few
minutes ("Whaddaya mean he didn't touch the side of the pool? Are ya
blind?"). But when five minutes came and went and Bradley was still
swimming, I started to become concerned. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"A lap is up and back, right?" I asked my daughter-in-law. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"No, that's two laps. A lap is just one direction."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
OMG.
By my calculations, Bradley had already done 10 "laps," which actually
meant he'd done 20. "Are you tired, Brad?" I yelled. "You can quit any
time, you know!" "Don't be a martyr." "I'll give you a sucker if you
come out now."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Nothing worked. The kid just kept swimming and
swimming and swimming. The coach finally had to call time on the kids --
not one of them quit before nearly an hour had gone by. Bradley's final
lap total: 44. I'm pretty sure I couldn't have done 10 without a life
jacket. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Great job, Bradley!" I said when he finally got out of the pool. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Thanks," he said, as if he swam 44 laps every day and it was no big deal.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It
was time to settle up. I pulled open my wallet and handed over the $44.
Yeah, he swam -- and I got soaked. But it was worth every penny. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Who
knows? We may have another Michael Phelps on our hands. And it all
started in our pool.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="yiv789927008tagline">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1582622971564785694.post-52549823511340320552012-07-18T09:08:00.000-07:002012-07-18T09:08:17.959-07:00What NOT to do at a writers conference<h3 class="entry-header">
</h3>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e37a6970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Bouchercon" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e37a6970b" height="189" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e37a6970b-800wi" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Bouchercon" width="126" /></a>Attending
a writers conference soon? You can find all kinds of "top ten things
you need to know/do at a writers conference," but it’s hard to find
things you’re <em>not</em> supposed to do. I thought I’d write that list for a change.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2ab0970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Cold" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2ab0970b" height="103" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2ab0970b-800wi" title="Cold" width="84" /></a><br />1. Don’t walk in cold.<br />Do your homework: read up on the agents and editors attending so you’ll know which ones to stalk…er…sit by and chat with.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /> <a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20177436928bb970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Angry typewriter" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20177436928bb970d" height="101" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20177436928bb970d-800wi" title="Angry typewriter" width="113" /></a><br />2. Don’t forget your basic writer tools.<br />You’ll need a couple of pens, a notepad, perhaps your lightweight laptop or iPad, and a big cool bag to carry everything in.</div>
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<br /> <a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017616830f8d970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Spy" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017616830f8d970c" height="182" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017616830f8d970c-800wi" title="Spy" width="84" /></a><br />3. Don’t wear your Halloween costume.<br />This is a business meeting. Don’t dress up in an attempt to impress an agent or editor with your “creativity.” Do that on paper.</div>
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<br /> <a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017616830fe4970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Lonely" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017616830fe4970c" height="96" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017616830fe4970c-800wi" title="Lonely" width="115" /></a><br />4. Don’t ignore the lonely attendee in the corner.<br />You’re
there to schmooze with everyone, so take a minute to say “Hello, what
are you writing?” when you find yourself next to someone. You never know
what you’ll learn.</div>
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<br /> <a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20176168310cb970c-pi" style="display: inline;"> </a><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2d7b970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Heavy book" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2d7b970b" height="125" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2d7b970b-800wi" title="Heavy book" width="115" /></a><br />5. Don’t bring your ten-pound tome.<br />If
you must, bring your query letter to hand out to agents and editors who
seem interested. But they don’t want to cart around your book. Send it
by e-mail after you get home.</div>
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<br /> <a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017743692bb0970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Speech" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017743692bb0970d" height="100" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017743692bb0970d-800wi" title="Speech" width="100" /></a><br />6. Don’t be shy when pitching your book.<br />I
know it’s terrifying. But practice and practice until you don’t sound
rehearsed any more, and be ready to give your spiel to anyone who will
listen.</div>
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<br /> <a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2f19970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Keep calm" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2f19970b" height="108" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2f19970b-800wi" title="Keep calm" width="86" /></a><br />7. Don’t drive yourself crazy.<br />Take
breaks, sip some tea, stay calm and have a cupcake—whatever works to
help you de-stress from all the information you’ll be bombarded with.
You need time to process everything. And again, you might pick up even
more valuable information listening to others discuss what they’ve
learned.<br /> <a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2fe5970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Business card-tomato" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2fe5970b" height="131" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e20167688e2fe5970b-800wi" title="Business card-tomato" width="131" /></a><br />8. Don’t hand out silly business cards.<br />Keep
the cards simple, with all your contact info, but leave off the cutesy
stuff, the word “author/writer”—or a “copyright” symbol…</div>
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<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e201761683140b970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Thanks-mouth" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e201761683140b970c" height="119" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e201761683140b970c-800wi" title="Thanks-mouth" width="84" /></a></div>
9.
Don’t forget to send thank you notes to people you met, via email or
snail mail, and keep in touch occasionally, with a question or link to
an interesting site (no funny cats or laughing babies). But don’t be a
pest. <br /> <a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017743692e19970d-pi" style="display: inline;"> </a><br /> <div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017616831bb2970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Party couple" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451f4a069e2017616831bb2970c" height="108" src="http://theladykillers.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451f4a069e2017616831bb2970c-800wi" title="Party couple" width="106" /></a></div>
10. Don’t have fun….<br />I’m
KIDDING! Try to enjoy yourself while attending the conference.
Remember, you’re there to learn, make new friends, be inspired, and
party! You’re not trying to land a plane in the middle of the a river
where lives are at risk. That kind of tension should be saved for your
story. Writing should be fun!Pennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02275211250072237429noreply@blogger.com0