At long last, I wrote a 1200 word synopsis for Promiscuous Mode. Just have the final edits to do, and what do I get but an agent wanting 20-30 pages and a synopsis? Great! The writing of it wasn't so bad. Plant butt on chair, mostly, and stop surfing the web.
One of the books I'm currently reading is about an early visit to Georgia with James Oglethorpe by his secretary. Original sources are so interesting, and this man is a good writer. Slavery was banned in the early days of the colony. Bet you didn't know that. These people who settled these shores were so intrepid and resourceful that I can't dampen my admiration. Smart, too. They figured out how to do everything. Palmetto huts were used for the earliest shelters, and they were waterproof. How cool is that? There was trouble getting the biggest ships into the channels leading to the Sea Islands, and they figured that out, too. People supported each other. Those must have been heady days.
I can't help but wonder if the people who play computer games and plant butt on sofa would be up to tree felling trees, making posts, planting and stockade building. One hopes everyone would rise to the occasion. The folks who go to Burning Man would have to trouble, for they are an endlessly resourceful bunch. Like wily Ulysses.
Today we visited the Kennedy library, a most impressive building and exhibits. It was so appalling to see the replays of first desegregation of schools in the south, with George Wallace in full dudgeon. One shudders in shame and hopes those days are gone forever. The library is right on the waterfront and there's a great walk around the harbor. Plenty of ducks out today.
I like to watch ducks. There's always good squabbles and bad blood. In duck.
Grapeshot
Friday, March 30, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Sandy's Lasagna
The question was whether to make Ed Giobbi's Lasagna, which I have regarded as the World's Best for eons, or to branch out. Most of the lasagna recipes call for a 9 x 13 inch baking dish, and I had 13 people coming and didn't want to run out of food. I Googled around and even Googled "Ed Giobbi" and a blog (which I didn't note) popped up with the blogger torn between two recipes: Ed Giobbi's and someone in Milwaukee Wisconsin called Sanford D'Amato. The recipe called for as 12 x 15 inch pan. Bingo!
The blogger (Kim) claimed that each was the world's best lasagna, depending on whose you were eating when you made the pronouncement. He said to try them both and let him know which you thought was best. I accepted the challenge, printed out the recipe and was off and running. Made the sauce a day ahead. What a production!
Yesterday I made my own assembly instructions, but couldn't fit five layers of pasta into the huge pan. Baked it. Smoke alarm went off. No fantastic smells emanating from oven, but, zowie, it looked awfully good when I took the parchment and the foil off. Lots of ooohhhs and ahhhhs. Tasted fantastic. Basked in compliments.
Divided left overs into various portions and stuck in freezer. We ate a modest dinner of it tonight. This is good! Recipe below. I didn't use all the oil to brown the sausage because the sausage was exuding its own oil. I used 2 lbs. sweet and 1 lb. spicy and that was about right. Raise your glass of Chianti to Sandy and Ed. We need more competitions like this. A Lasagna-off? Hmmmm.
Sandy's Lasagna
Tomato-sausage sauce (see recipe)2 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt plus additional salt for lasagna water (divided)2 pounds lasagna noodles (I use De Cecco)3 ounces Italian parsley tops (about 2 large bunches cleaned and dried)2 ounces basil leaves2 pounds ricotta cheese (divided)1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg3 egg yolks1 pounds mascarpone cheese1/2 pound aged Asiago cheese, grated1/2 pound Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, grated1 1/2 pounds whole milk mozzarella, sliced thin1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Prepare tomato-sausage sauce and let cool.
Fill large (about 3-gallon) pot with water and bring to boil; add about 3 to 4 tablespoons salt until water tastes slightly salty. Cook noodles according to package directions, about 7 to 8 minutes.
While noodles cook: To food processor, add parsley and basil and process until fine. Add half the ricotta, the 21/2 teaspoons salt, the pepper and nutmeg and process (about 30 seconds) until fine. Add egg yolks and remaining ricotta and process until just mixed. Place mixture in bowl and mix in mascarpone. Set aside.
When noodles are done, drain and re-cover with cold water. When cool, drain noodles. Place noodles individually on sheet pan layered with plastic wrap, placing plastic wrap between each individual layer.
Set out all remaining ingredients and preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Spread 1 1/2 cups sauce over bottom of deep, 16-by-12-inch baking pan. Place layer of noodles (about 8 to cover) just slightly overlapping. Spread over it 2 cups sauce with spatula. Sprinkle a fourth of the sausage slices (from the sauce), then a fourth of the ricotta mixture (I like to pipe it out with a pastry bag and lightly spread it to cover), then sprinkle over 1/2 cup Asiago, 1/2 cup Parmigiano-Reggiano and a fifth of the mozzarella slices. Place a layer of noodles over top (8 again) and lightly press down.
Repeat sauce, sausage, ricotta, Asiago, Parmigiano-Reggiano and mozzarella three more times. Then top with fifth layer of noodles, final layer of mozzarella and sauce to cover and sprinkle with remaining Asiago and Parmigiano-Reggiano. Sprinkle over top the 1/4 cup of olive oil and cover with sheet of parchment paper. Cover parchment with foil and place in preheated oven 11/2 to 2 hours, until instant-read thermometer reads 150 degrees. Remove parchment and foil and let lasagna cook 10 more minutes to brown slightly. Remove and let rest at least 20 minutes before cutting. Serve with remaining tomato sauce. Makes 12 servings.
Tomato sausage sauce
3 pounds Italian sausages1 1/2 pounds (2 large) onions, diced2 ounces (8 large cloves) chopped garlic2 ounces basil, chopped1 bunch parsley stems, chopped4 bay leaves4 sprigs thyme1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil1 cup tomato paste2 cups pork or chicken stock4 cans (28 ounces each) peeled plum tomatoes in juice, pureed in food processorKosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Brown sausages in heavy-bottomed pot in olive oil. Remove and set aside.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Add onions to pot and saute until lightly browned. Add garlic and herbs and saute 1 minute, then add tomato paste and saute 1 more minute. Add stock and tomatoes, stir, and bring to boil. Add sausage.
Cover and simmer in preheated oven 45 minutes or until sauce is of correct consistency. Remove bay leaf, thyme and sausages. When sausages are cool, cut each into 1/4-inch discs and reserve cold. Season sauce with salt and pepper and cool.
I would say this would serve at least 16 unless you were serving football players or lumberjacks.
Grapeshot
The blogger (Kim) claimed that each was the world's best lasagna, depending on whose you were eating when you made the pronouncement. He said to try them both and let him know which you thought was best. I accepted the challenge, printed out the recipe and was off and running. Made the sauce a day ahead. What a production!
Yesterday I made my own assembly instructions, but couldn't fit five layers of pasta into the huge pan. Baked it. Smoke alarm went off. No fantastic smells emanating from oven, but, zowie, it looked awfully good when I took the parchment and the foil off. Lots of ooohhhs and ahhhhs. Tasted fantastic. Basked in compliments.
Divided left overs into various portions and stuck in freezer. We ate a modest dinner of it tonight. This is good! Recipe below. I didn't use all the oil to brown the sausage because the sausage was exuding its own oil. I used 2 lbs. sweet and 1 lb. spicy and that was about right. Raise your glass of Chianti to Sandy and Ed. We need more competitions like this. A Lasagna-off? Hmmmm.
Sandy's Lasagna
Tomato-sausage sauce (see recipe)2 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt plus additional salt for lasagna water (divided)2 pounds lasagna noodles (I use De Cecco)3 ounces Italian parsley tops (about 2 large bunches cleaned and dried)2 ounces basil leaves2 pounds ricotta cheese (divided)1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg3 egg yolks1 pounds mascarpone cheese1/2 pound aged Asiago cheese, grated1/2 pound Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, grated1 1/2 pounds whole milk mozzarella, sliced thin1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
Prepare tomato-sausage sauce and let cool.
Fill large (about 3-gallon) pot with water and bring to boil; add about 3 to 4 tablespoons salt until water tastes slightly salty. Cook noodles according to package directions, about 7 to 8 minutes.
While noodles cook: To food processor, add parsley and basil and process until fine. Add half the ricotta, the 21/2 teaspoons salt, the pepper and nutmeg and process (about 30 seconds) until fine. Add egg yolks and remaining ricotta and process until just mixed. Place mixture in bowl and mix in mascarpone. Set aside.
When noodles are done, drain and re-cover with cold water. When cool, drain noodles. Place noodles individually on sheet pan layered with plastic wrap, placing plastic wrap between each individual layer.
Set out all remaining ingredients and preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Spread 1 1/2 cups sauce over bottom of deep, 16-by-12-inch baking pan. Place layer of noodles (about 8 to cover) just slightly overlapping. Spread over it 2 cups sauce with spatula. Sprinkle a fourth of the sausage slices (from the sauce), then a fourth of the ricotta mixture (I like to pipe it out with a pastry bag and lightly spread it to cover), then sprinkle over 1/2 cup Asiago, 1/2 cup Parmigiano-Reggiano and a fifth of the mozzarella slices. Place a layer of noodles over top (8 again) and lightly press down.
Repeat sauce, sausage, ricotta, Asiago, Parmigiano-Reggiano and mozzarella three more times. Then top with fifth layer of noodles, final layer of mozzarella and sauce to cover and sprinkle with remaining Asiago and Parmigiano-Reggiano. Sprinkle over top the 1/4 cup of olive oil and cover with sheet of parchment paper. Cover parchment with foil and place in preheated oven 11/2 to 2 hours, until instant-read thermometer reads 150 degrees. Remove parchment and foil and let lasagna cook 10 more minutes to brown slightly. Remove and let rest at least 20 minutes before cutting. Serve with remaining tomato sauce. Makes 12 servings.
Tomato sausage sauce
3 pounds Italian sausages1 1/2 pounds (2 large) onions, diced2 ounces (8 large cloves) chopped garlic2 ounces basil, chopped1 bunch parsley stems, chopped4 bay leaves4 sprigs thyme1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil1 cup tomato paste2 cups pork or chicken stock4 cans (28 ounces each) peeled plum tomatoes in juice, pureed in food processorKosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Brown sausages in heavy-bottomed pot in olive oil. Remove and set aside.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Add onions to pot and saute until lightly browned. Add garlic and herbs and saute 1 minute, then add tomato paste and saute 1 more minute. Add stock and tomatoes, stir, and bring to boil. Add sausage.
Cover and simmer in preheated oven 45 minutes or until sauce is of correct consistency. Remove bay leaf, thyme and sausages. When sausages are cool, cut each into 1/4-inch discs and reserve cold. Season sauce with salt and pepper and cool.
I would say this would serve at least 16 unless you were serving football players or lumberjacks.
Grapeshot
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
My Review of the NYTimes Book Review
John Banville has written a crime novel under the pseudonym Benjamin Black. Sounds pretty good. Interesting how many literary writers, like Oates, write crime fiction on the side.
More books about Leni Riefenstahl. Endless review that talked most about Riefenstahl and not so much about the books under review, a la Mailer. Kind of ho hum in that it was part of the endless debate no one will ever win about whether the artist working under a "bad" regime is tainted by the politics. Off hand, I'd say yes, but you do have to feel sorry for the artists who are then either mute or prosecuted. I think Leni was a pretty smart lady who knew exactly what she was doing. Art can never exist in a vacuum.
I keep seeing that sexy photo of Mo Hayder who writes thrillers and hard boiled and now horror. It definitely helps to be good looking. Somehow the name "Mo" doesn't exactly match her genre. Marilyn Stasio always has an interesting Crime Review page. Nice write up for Cara Black and Soho Press. I had hoped they would take on World of Mirrors, but they didn't. There's also a review of a book from Bitter Lemon Press, Fever, which sounds like a good read. Bitter Lemon was another publisher I had high hopes for, which alas, were dashed.
Winterton Blue by Trezza Azzopardi getting lots of good reviews and PR. Loved the illustration on the review page. Sometimes we overlook the resonance that drawings and photos add to the reviews.
I have noticed that literary novels and story collections all begin to have interesting titles which are enough alike to begin to identify the genre. This began a few years ago. The latest is The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears. I am going to start writing all these titles down. Titles are important, and there are many theories of how to title a book. It's probably like Somerset Maughan said about the novel. There are three rules for writing it, but nobody know what they are.
All in all this week's review was heavy on Crime Fiction, the last being Inheritance, by Natalie Danford.
The question before the house this week is whether crime fiction is losing the genre status and becoming Mainstream, or whether the Times just had a quiet week on the non-fiction literary front.
Mildly humorous article on the cell phone, and how hard it is to keep your character out of touch these days. Hmmm. Black Rock Desert. Adirondaks. Afghanistan? Dead batteries, thieves, leaving it on the restaurant table and the like. I haven't had any problems keeping characters out of touch.
Tonight is the big lasagne feed. Sauce was really good. Kept nibbling at the sausages all day. Bad girl!
Ciao,
Grapeshot
More books about Leni Riefenstahl. Endless review that talked most about Riefenstahl and not so much about the books under review, a la Mailer. Kind of ho hum in that it was part of the endless debate no one will ever win about whether the artist working under a "bad" regime is tainted by the politics. Off hand, I'd say yes, but you do have to feel sorry for the artists who are then either mute or prosecuted. I think Leni was a pretty smart lady who knew exactly what she was doing. Art can never exist in a vacuum.
I keep seeing that sexy photo of Mo Hayder who writes thrillers and hard boiled and now horror. It definitely helps to be good looking. Somehow the name "Mo" doesn't exactly match her genre. Marilyn Stasio always has an interesting Crime Review page. Nice write up for Cara Black and Soho Press. I had hoped they would take on World of Mirrors, but they didn't. There's also a review of a book from Bitter Lemon Press, Fever, which sounds like a good read. Bitter Lemon was another publisher I had high hopes for, which alas, were dashed.
Winterton Blue by Trezza Azzopardi getting lots of good reviews and PR. Loved the illustration on the review page. Sometimes we overlook the resonance that drawings and photos add to the reviews.
I have noticed that literary novels and story collections all begin to have interesting titles which are enough alike to begin to identify the genre. This began a few years ago. The latest is The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears. I am going to start writing all these titles down. Titles are important, and there are many theories of how to title a book. It's probably like Somerset Maughan said about the novel. There are three rules for writing it, but nobody know what they are.
All in all this week's review was heavy on Crime Fiction, the last being Inheritance, by Natalie Danford.
The question before the house this week is whether crime fiction is losing the genre status and becoming Mainstream, or whether the Times just had a quiet week on the non-fiction literary front.
Mildly humorous article on the cell phone, and how hard it is to keep your character out of touch these days. Hmmm. Black Rock Desert. Adirondaks. Afghanistan? Dead batteries, thieves, leaving it on the restaurant table and the like. I haven't had any problems keeping characters out of touch.
Tonight is the big lasagne feed. Sauce was really good. Kept nibbling at the sausages all day. Bad girl!
Ciao,
Grapeshot
Monday, March 26, 2007
The Shadow Warriors
This evening, I have an "event" at a Rhode Island library. This will be a three person panel of female crime writers talking about "the new heroine." We get to sell books afterward. The audience is usually rapt enough and since I have joined toastmasters, I feel more confident doing these gigs.
One problem is that I have only one book in print, The Shadow Warriors, which came out first in 2000 as an e-book, and then in 2003 in print. Kids, that's a long time ago. I've written three books since, none of which are sold yet. Hence, this blog's title, "suck it up."
It's difficult to remember the book at times, since I began writing it in 1993. That's how long this so-called writing career has been on and off track. So this afternoon I dug out my copy and browed through it in order to be able to discuss the characters and scenes with some degree of freshness. It's actually a pretty good read, even better than I remembered. Isn't that something? It's the latest one, Festival Madness, that I worry about now, but it's only first draft and can be fixed. Problem is, I'm getting so depressed about not selling the last two books that I think my writing is beginning to sound a little depressed, too. You know, it's what's in your head that comes out on the page and well. . . you know.
Not good, and no amount of sucking it up is going to lift the depression. And here's another thing. The California book isn't really coming to me, but the Afghanistan book is--a book I don't even want to write, not qualified to write, yadda, yadda, and yet it's calling my name.
I am reading Three Trapped Tigers and revelling in the author's command of various voices, all in the first pages. Zowie. That's talent.
Why do I think my writing would be better if I ran around drinking, smoking, drugging and chasing men? Raising hell? Did Emily Dickenson? Hell, no.
Think about that for a while.
Sucking it up big time.
Grapeshot
One problem is that I have only one book in print, The Shadow Warriors, which came out first in 2000 as an e-book, and then in 2003 in print. Kids, that's a long time ago. I've written three books since, none of which are sold yet. Hence, this blog's title, "suck it up."
It's difficult to remember the book at times, since I began writing it in 1993. That's how long this so-called writing career has been on and off track. So this afternoon I dug out my copy and browed through it in order to be able to discuss the characters and scenes with some degree of freshness. It's actually a pretty good read, even better than I remembered. Isn't that something? It's the latest one, Festival Madness, that I worry about now, but it's only first draft and can be fixed. Problem is, I'm getting so depressed about not selling the last two books that I think my writing is beginning to sound a little depressed, too. You know, it's what's in your head that comes out on the page and well. . . you know.
Not good, and no amount of sucking it up is going to lift the depression. And here's another thing. The California book isn't really coming to me, but the Afghanistan book is--a book I don't even want to write, not qualified to write, yadda, yadda, and yet it's calling my name.
I am reading Three Trapped Tigers and revelling in the author's command of various voices, all in the first pages. Zowie. That's talent.
Why do I think my writing would be better if I ran around drinking, smoking, drugging and chasing men? Raising hell? Did Emily Dickenson? Hell, no.
Think about that for a while.
Sucking it up big time.
Grapeshot
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Promiscuous Mode Revisited
Egad! Back to Promiscuous Mode. I changed the names of three characters, cut another 500 words, and corrected all the newly found typos. Now I am hoping ye olde faithful HP Laset Jet will produce another copy. I could never say enough good things about this old printer. It has seen me through five books and endless printings. I'd love to know how many pages it has ground out. When it finally goes, it will have earned its rest.
That and the 23 year old Amana refridgerator that goes on and on. Once we had a Sunbeam toaster that was also like an old friend. Maytag washers and dryers are also golden appliances. I just hated it when Maytag was sold. Guess that's the mark of becoming an old fart. Well, so be it. I hope I'm not jinxing myself by bragging on the appliances.
By the way, I got the gum off my shoe. I "googled" remove chewing gum, and found the instructions to put the shoe in the freezer, but also found instructions for using WD-40, and that took the remnants right off. Another fantastic product! Who would have known? Someone actually had to try these things and find out what works and what doesn't. Life is truly amazing. Two out of three Christmas cacti are blooming like crazy. We are referring to them now as Lenten Cacti. I love my plants.
Grapeshot
That and the 23 year old Amana refridgerator that goes on and on. Once we had a Sunbeam toaster that was also like an old friend. Maytag washers and dryers are also golden appliances. I just hated it when Maytag was sold. Guess that's the mark of becoming an old fart. Well, so be it. I hope I'm not jinxing myself by bragging on the appliances.
By the way, I got the gum off my shoe. I "googled" remove chewing gum, and found the instructions to put the shoe in the freezer, but also found instructions for using WD-40, and that took the remnants right off. Another fantastic product! Who would have known? Someone actually had to try these things and find out what works and what doesn't. Life is truly amazing. Two out of three Christmas cacti are blooming like crazy. We are referring to them now as Lenten Cacti. I love my plants.
Grapeshot
Does Your Chewing Gum Lose It's Flavor?
Yesterday I discovered GREEN chewing gum on the bottom of my good brown loafers. They have a sole like a driving shoe, with those little raised bumps which means it's hell to clean chewing gum off of them. I got so desperate I actually put the shoe in the freezer, as ice is supposed to help with this icky task. It helped some, but the gum is still there.
Green chewing gum is even yuckier than most. My 8th grade teacher always said,
The gum chewing girl and the cud chewing cow,
There must be a difference, Ah I see it now
The intelligent look on the face of the cow.
Another teacher, Mr. Wooley in social studies made his students put the gum on their nose if he caught them chewing. I swallowed mine once, rather than submit to this indignity. And I stopped chewing gum. And I don't like to step in it.
If you have handy gum removal hints, I'd be happy to receive them. And post them.
Grapeshot
Green chewing gum is even yuckier than most. My 8th grade teacher always said,
The gum chewing girl and the cud chewing cow,
There must be a difference, Ah I see it now
The intelligent look on the face of the cow.
Another teacher, Mr. Wooley in social studies made his students put the gum on their nose if he caught them chewing. I swallowed mine once, rather than submit to this indignity. And I stopped chewing gum. And I don't like to step in it.
If you have handy gum removal hints, I'd be happy to receive them. And post them.
Grapeshot
Saturday, March 24, 2007
A Nice Little Downtown
Significant Other and I try to take a half-hour walk each day. Weather good, almost 60 degrees and sunny. We simultaneously decide to drive to Taunton and walk around the downtown, which someone had recently told us was "a nice little downtown."
Yes and no. Drove there. Parked a ways away, and started walking. Went by a handsome courthouse and headed for the stores. The first thing we noticed was that we were the ONLY pedestrians. Kids, it is 1:30 on a Saturday afternoon. Where are the shoppers? Then we noticed the closed stores. Lots of vacant storefronts. The big industry seemed to be prom dresses and tuxedos. We walked and walked and made it to the Unitarian Church (another handsome building) and started back down the other side of the street. Same story. Stores closed. Lots of insurance agencies and chiropractors--the town is full of chiropractors. Made my neck stiff to look at all of them. Still no pedestrians. Hardly any parking places. Most mysterious. Lots of cars going by with big loud bass booming from the stereo. No shoppers. No strollers. WTF?
Felt sad. Taunton was founded in 1637. Way back when. Seemed like a nice town. On the way out, we went by a couple strip malls and a "real" mall. Obviously where the action is/was. It's always disturbing when a nice downtown dies.
Later on we were in Canton, where the downtown seems stable and few store windows were empty. Such a change from my childhood, when everyone came into town to shop on Saturday.
Times have changed.
Grapeshot
Yes and no. Drove there. Parked a ways away, and started walking. Went by a handsome courthouse and headed for the stores. The first thing we noticed was that we were the ONLY pedestrians. Kids, it is 1:30 on a Saturday afternoon. Where are the shoppers? Then we noticed the closed stores. Lots of vacant storefronts. The big industry seemed to be prom dresses and tuxedos. We walked and walked and made it to the Unitarian Church (another handsome building) and started back down the other side of the street. Same story. Stores closed. Lots of insurance agencies and chiropractors--the town is full of chiropractors. Made my neck stiff to look at all of them. Still no pedestrians. Hardly any parking places. Most mysterious. Lots of cars going by with big loud bass booming from the stereo. No shoppers. No strollers. WTF?
Felt sad. Taunton was founded in 1637. Way back when. Seemed like a nice town. On the way out, we went by a couple strip malls and a "real" mall. Obviously where the action is/was. It's always disturbing when a nice downtown dies.
Later on we were in Canton, where the downtown seems stable and few store windows were empty. Such a change from my childhood, when everyone came into town to shop on Saturday.
Times have changed.
Grapeshot
Friday, March 23, 2007
How Doth the Busy Little Bee
That's me, the busy bee. Baked a loaf of Jalapeno-Cheddar bread from March Gourmet today. Came out well. Yum! Very tasty.
S.O. and I each have big collections of old family photos, and everything has been crammed into a closet in a disorderly mess. I've been trying to get up enough energy and determination to tackle the mess, and today was the day. We each got early family photos separated, and then all our years into decades. Found the old dageurrogtypes of my great grandpa. Lots of good stuff, there. Now there is still a huge amount of work to do, to sift thru each decade or the really old photos and bring yet more order to the mess. We also had 3 big boxes of souvenirs and memories. Really cool stuff that also needs sortation, but at least its all together in a box with a label. Everything is still on the home office floor, but we have a plan for tomorrow.
My mother was from a small town in Kansas, and even way back when, the county seat had a handful of good photographers. Some of these old portraits are fantastic. You see and know the person behind the photo. I may post some on the blog here once they're scanned in. One more sortation required first. S.O. and I both have a propensity to save not toss, but it is really neat to have baby pictures of one's grandmother, and photos of the great grandparents.
The photos carry memories, and now I can recall exactly what my grandma's living room looked like. There's a house on Rte 27 that looks just like hers, and I can never drive by without wondering if the room's are arranged like her old house.
On the writing front, S.O. has read the entire MS of Promiscuous Mode aloud. I have a few more edits to make, and then it's off to a friend for critiqueing. Still no synopsis, but it will come when I'm ready. Soon, I trust.
Onward,
S.O. and I each have big collections of old family photos, and everything has been crammed into a closet in a disorderly mess. I've been trying to get up enough energy and determination to tackle the mess, and today was the day. We each got early family photos separated, and then all our years into decades. Found the old dageurrogtypes of my great grandpa. Lots of good stuff, there. Now there is still a huge amount of work to do, to sift thru each decade or the really old photos and bring yet more order to the mess. We also had 3 big boxes of souvenirs and memories. Really cool stuff that also needs sortation, but at least its all together in a box with a label. Everything is still on the home office floor, but we have a plan for tomorrow.
My mother was from a small town in Kansas, and even way back when, the county seat had a handful of good photographers. Some of these old portraits are fantastic. You see and know the person behind the photo. I may post some on the blog here once they're scanned in. One more sortation required first. S.O. and I both have a propensity to save not toss, but it is really neat to have baby pictures of one's grandmother, and photos of the great grandparents.
The photos carry memories, and now I can recall exactly what my grandma's living room looked like. There's a house on Rte 27 that looks just like hers, and I can never drive by without wondering if the room's are arranged like her old house.
On the writing front, S.O. has read the entire MS of Promiscuous Mode aloud. I have a few more edits to make, and then it's off to a friend for critiqueing. Still no synopsis, but it will come when I'm ready. Soon, I trust.
Onward,
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Never the Twain Shall Meet
The Mystery Writer's of America are having their Edgar week shindig in NYC at the same time the PEN people are meeting there. Imagine there's not a lot of crossover. Pity. We can always learn from each other.
A link to PEN: http://www.pen.org/page.php/prmID/1096
Aloha,
Grapeshot, who is happy to note that the first daffodils and daylilies have sprouted by the warm stone wall where the afternoon sun warms things up a bit.
A link to PEN: http://www.pen.org/page.php/prmID/1096
Aloha,
Grapeshot, who is happy to note that the first daffodils and daylilies have sprouted by the warm stone wall where the afternoon sun warms things up a bit.
Pour the Cheap Wine in the Gallo Bottle
The food section of today's NY Times has an article about cooking with wine. Way back in the days of yore, Julia Child advised not to cook with cheap wine. Apparently hordes of cooks took her advice to heart and floated loans to buy pricey wine to dump into the boeuf bourgignon. Not Grapeshot. Grapeshot had always observed that a modest wine could assist the cook in creating a spectacular dish.
I am one of those people who don't always heed authority. Just ask my mom. Have to learn everything the hard way, except when I follow instinct and always cook with ordinary wine, or think about butter versus margarine. Butter is a natural food and no one will ever see "all natural" on a margarine bottle or box or tub. So for years I joked to people (who never, ever, saw the humor) that "margarine will kill you." Now of course with transfats, etc., that starts to sound like folk wisdom. Same for egg substitute. You won't ever see "all natural." Egg yolks have tons of nutrients. Don't me a nitwit about food. Fruits, veggies, dairy + meat in moderation. Lots of whole grains. Treats in moderation. Smaller helpings. It' s so friggin' simple.
Exit soap box.
Cook with wine. Tonight we're having the pork tenderloin from this month's Gourmet. It's one of their "weekday meals" which is about all I ever cook from Gourmet. We live in the boonies and don't have easy access to many ethnic and obscure ingredients.
Yesterday, in mild desperation after inviting a crowd for lasagna, I looked for a recipe. Now I have Ed Giobbi's Lasagna, which we always thought was the world's best, but for various reasons relating to pan size and so forth, I decided to look for a new recipe.
Major bummer. Nothing looked quite right. In desperation I Googled "Ed Giobbi's Lasagna" and up popped a BLOG, yes, a bloody blog, with link's to both Ed's recipe and another which the blogger said was equally good. Invited readers to try both and decide which was the superior recipe. Blogger was ambivalent. So I'm going to try the new recipe. Sauce from scratch, lots of cheeses, out of season basill. You name it. I'll let you know. Rats! Can't find the link. O.K., I'll post the recipe now and a critique later.
Off to make a shopping list.
Grapeshot
I am one of those people who don't always heed authority. Just ask my mom. Have to learn everything the hard way, except when I follow instinct and always cook with ordinary wine, or think about butter versus margarine. Butter is a natural food and no one will ever see "all natural" on a margarine bottle or box or tub. So for years I joked to people (who never, ever, saw the humor) that "margarine will kill you." Now of course with transfats, etc., that starts to sound like folk wisdom. Same for egg substitute. You won't ever see "all natural." Egg yolks have tons of nutrients. Don't me a nitwit about food. Fruits, veggies, dairy + meat in moderation. Lots of whole grains. Treats in moderation. Smaller helpings. It' s so friggin' simple.
Exit soap box.
Cook with wine. Tonight we're having the pork tenderloin from this month's Gourmet. It's one of their "weekday meals" which is about all I ever cook from Gourmet. We live in the boonies and don't have easy access to many ethnic and obscure ingredients.
Yesterday, in mild desperation after inviting a crowd for lasagna, I looked for a recipe. Now I have Ed Giobbi's Lasagna, which we always thought was the world's best, but for various reasons relating to pan size and so forth, I decided to look for a new recipe.
Major bummer. Nothing looked quite right. In desperation I Googled "Ed Giobbi's Lasagna" and up popped a BLOG, yes, a bloody blog, with link's to both Ed's recipe and another which the blogger said was equally good. Invited readers to try both and decide which was the superior recipe. Blogger was ambivalent. So I'm going to try the new recipe. Sauce from scratch, lots of cheeses, out of season basill. You name it. I'll let you know. Rats! Can't find the link. O.K., I'll post the recipe now and a critique later.
Off to make a shopping list.
Grapeshot
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Maggie and Iris
This is Maggie. Iris is in the background. This year Maggie had a brown calf and Iris, a mom for the first time had a black calf. The Sweet-Faced Young Bull is brown, so there must be genetic weirdness someplace. Maggie, in spite of being female, is the bull of the woods and horns her way in (one suddenly understands where that expression comes from) when food is offered. The young bull really like the outer cabbage leaves and the stale pita pockets. Maggie has had so many calves that she didn't pay a whole lot of attention to this year's. She feeds it and then ignores it. The calves (we had three this year) all hung out and were calves together, so that was cool. Maggie doesn't much like Iris anymore, although Iris was her calf, too once. Right now, they are all hoof-deep in snow and eager for any treats that come their way. Broccoli stems always a populat item, as was the escarole core. We eat a lot of veggies and the cows profit, too. They are quite partial to banana skins. These are, of course, Scottish Highland Cattle, a hardy breed. After almost four years of intense observation, I feel like I know them pretty well. Sometimes they recognize me and all come bleating and running. It's like a stampede and the earth almost shudders from the thundering hooves. I am flattered. It's nice to be appreciated.
Grapeshot
Monday, March 19, 2007
14 Ways to Postpone Writing the Synopsis
1) Work out
2) Buy granola and cleaning stuff at Ocean State Job Lot
3) Actually cook something for lunch
4) Read examples of "good" synopses
5) File vacation ideas and last year's tax returns
6) Pay bills
7) Pet cat (several times)
8) Send out two queries which do not require synopsis
9) Debate whether to write a long or short synopsis
10) Inner debate on how many characters to include
11) Cut articles out of newspaper
12) Shovel bits of ice off of driveway
13) Get piece ready for writing group, even though it's been postponed
14) Blog about not writing synopsis
I am green with envy about the people Stephen King has brought into the publishing limelight. The latest is: http://meggardiner.wordpress.com/
She seems like a funny lady, good writer, and all round deserving person.
Onward, kinda, sorta
Grapeshot
2) Buy granola and cleaning stuff at Ocean State Job Lot
3) Actually cook something for lunch
4) Read examples of "good" synopses
5) File vacation ideas and last year's tax returns
6) Pay bills
7) Pet cat (several times)
8) Send out two queries which do not require synopsis
9) Debate whether to write a long or short synopsis
10) Inner debate on how many characters to include
11) Cut articles out of newspaper
12) Shovel bits of ice off of driveway
13) Get piece ready for writing group, even though it's been postponed
14) Blog about not writing synopsis
I am green with envy about the people Stephen King has brought into the publishing limelight. The latest is: http://meggardiner.wordpress.com/
She seems like a funny lady, good writer, and all round deserving person.
Onward, kinda, sorta
Grapeshot
International Thriller Writers Nominees
Best Novel :
False Impression, Jeffrey Archer (St. Martin's Press)
Killer Instinct, Joseph Finder (St. Martin's Press)
Cold Kill, Stephen Leather (Hodder & Stoughton)
The Messenger, Daniel Silva (Putnam)
Beautiful Lies, Lisa Unger (Shaye Areheart Books/Bantam)
Best First Novel :
Shadow of Death, Patricia Gussin (Oceanview Publishing)
Switchback, Matthew Klein (Orion)
A Thousand Suns, Alex Scarrow (Orion)
18 Seconds, George D. Shuman (Simon & Schuster)
Mr. Clarinet, Nick Stone (Michael Joseph Ltd/Penguin)
Best Paperback Original:
Skeleton Coast, Clive Cussler with Jack DuBrul (Berkley Trade)
The Deep Blue Alibi, Paul Levine (Bantam)
An Unquiet Grave, P.J. Parrish (Pinnacle)
Headstone City, Tom Piccirilli (Spectra Books/Crown)
Mortal Faults, Michael Prescott (Onyx Books)
I'm rooting for PJ Parrish, Joseph Finder and Patricia Gussin. Gussin is published by a small local press. It's always good when a new writer and a new press are nominated for a serious award.
By the way, Patterson, who I dissed yesterday, will be the first (?) Grand Master for the Thriller Writers this year. He has indeed published lots of books and is always on the best seller list. The man is a master of covering all bases. He wrote romantic suspense as well as thrillers, has adopted a bunch of co-authors, and even wrote a book set in California when he found out he wasn't as popular in that state as he wanted to be. Ah, the old advertising genes can't help but kick in. I still don't want to read about people being hacked to death by machetes. I can read that in the news.
Working on my synopsis of Promiscuous Mode, which has strong romantic elements along with business, computer crime and much monkey business.
Aloha,
Grapeshot
False Impression, Jeffrey Archer (St. Martin's Press)
Killer Instinct, Joseph Finder (St. Martin's Press)
Cold Kill, Stephen Leather (Hodder & Stoughton)
The Messenger, Daniel Silva (Putnam)
Beautiful Lies, Lisa Unger (Shaye Areheart Books/Bantam)
Best First Novel :
Shadow of Death, Patricia Gussin (Oceanview Publishing)
Switchback, Matthew Klein (Orion)
A Thousand Suns, Alex Scarrow (Orion)
18 Seconds, George D. Shuman (Simon & Schuster)
Mr. Clarinet, Nick Stone (Michael Joseph Ltd/Penguin)
Best Paperback Original:
Skeleton Coast, Clive Cussler with Jack DuBrul (Berkley Trade)
The Deep Blue Alibi, Paul Levine (Bantam)
An Unquiet Grave, P.J. Parrish (Pinnacle)
Headstone City, Tom Piccirilli (Spectra Books/Crown)
Mortal Faults, Michael Prescott (Onyx Books)
I'm rooting for PJ Parrish, Joseph Finder and Patricia Gussin. Gussin is published by a small local press. It's always good when a new writer and a new press are nominated for a serious award.
By the way, Patterson, who I dissed yesterday, will be the first (?) Grand Master for the Thriller Writers this year. He has indeed published lots of books and is always on the best seller list. The man is a master of covering all bases. He wrote romantic suspense as well as thrillers, has adopted a bunch of co-authors, and even wrote a book set in California when he found out he wasn't as popular in that state as he wanted to be. Ah, the old advertising genes can't help but kick in. I still don't want to read about people being hacked to death by machetes. I can read that in the news.
Working on my synopsis of Promiscuous Mode, which has strong romantic elements along with business, computer crime and much monkey business.
Aloha,
Grapeshot
Sunday, March 18, 2007
NYTimes Book Review
My first priority on Sunday morning, along with coffee, is to devour the New York Times Book Review. One of my complaints (one of many) is that so few books about workers in offices appear. Not good escapist reading, methinks.
Imagine my pleasure this morning when the lead review is Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris. Set in a white collar ad agency office. Looks like a real good read. I wonder who his agent is.
Much of Promiscuous Mode plays in an office, as does Festival Madness (between festivals). So many of us work or worked in offices, one would think there would be more business mysteries, thrillers (Thank You, Joseph Finder) and the like. Perhaps no one wants to read about their day, but then why the popularity of Dilbert? Dilbert WAS my day.
Last night S.O. read aloud the scene in Promiscous Mode where the worker bees were told that manufacturing operations were shutting down at Great Northern Shoe. Good characters, drama, tension, and even a been-there, done-that feeling. Why is this such a hard sell? I don't know. I really don't.
Larry McMurtry has a new book out, damned with faint praise. Let me tell you a horrible embarassing secret. When I first started as a writer and had one book to sell, I didn't know The Rules, and was a nitwit, in Ms. Snark's inimitable phraseology. So I prostrated myself and begged two authors to put in a good word for me. One was Larry McMurtry, who used to grade my papers. We shared a major and a university as well as the teacher/student relationship. I wrote a really stupid letter, which thank dog I didn't save, and of course, heard nothing. How many letters a week does he get like that?
The second scenario was even worse. I went to a reading my Peter Mayle, a uniformly nice man, and was last in line for the book signing, at which time I handed him an envelope with some of my novel and an SASE. Bear in mind he was on a book tour. Though I checked the mailbox for months, I never saw my SASE. I didn't know the rules, which are that an unpublished writer may never ever under any circumstances ask or beg a published writer to a) read your work, b) recommend an agent and c) waste their time. This should be the first thing taught day-one in any writing course.
I still feel the humiliation. Somehow, through luck or chutzpah your work has to reach the published author's attention without your having appeared to have done anything. A reading, maybe, or prescient remarks one made, I don't know, still haven't figured it out. Take one of their classes and be brilliant. Assuming time, money and whatever you write will be brilliant. Maybe show up with something polished and honed for 10 years that you pretend to just dash off? Guile, in other words.
Last words of a longish post. I have read two books on this week's best seller list, both of which came to the house via a roundabout way as ARC's. High Profile, by Robert Parker, was an ok read but not one of his best. I didn't like the ex-wife at all, and felt neutral about the new girl friend. Plot was o.k., ending too macho. Jeez. Family Tree I nearly didn't finish. Writing was O.K., just O.K, but these tear-jearky sentimental things don't ring my chimes either. Janet Evanovich rings my chines. Robert Crais. NOT James Patterson.
When Patterson retired from J. Walter Thompson and started writing full time, he used to put the names of the people who used to work for him into his books as murder victims. I knew one of them and was completely creeped out that anyone would do that. It's not as though they bid at an auction. The first book of his I ever tried to read had people hacking each other up with machetes in the first chapter. Read him twice, you might say. For the first time and the last time. Now who else can I knock today?
Why are so few women on the fiction best seller list? I doubt my Information Technology tell all will make it. So many projects. So little time. So few pats on the head. What do we do?
All together now. Suck it Up.
Grapeshot
Imagine my pleasure this morning when the lead review is Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris. Set in a white collar ad agency office. Looks like a real good read. I wonder who his agent is.
Much of Promiscuous Mode plays in an office, as does Festival Madness (between festivals). So many of us work or worked in offices, one would think there would be more business mysteries, thrillers (Thank You, Joseph Finder) and the like. Perhaps no one wants to read about their day, but then why the popularity of Dilbert? Dilbert WAS my day.
Last night S.O. read aloud the scene in Promiscous Mode where the worker bees were told that manufacturing operations were shutting down at Great Northern Shoe. Good characters, drama, tension, and even a been-there, done-that feeling. Why is this such a hard sell? I don't know. I really don't.
Larry McMurtry has a new book out, damned with faint praise. Let me tell you a horrible embarassing secret. When I first started as a writer and had one book to sell, I didn't know The Rules, and was a nitwit, in Ms. Snark's inimitable phraseology. So I prostrated myself and begged two authors to put in a good word for me. One was Larry McMurtry, who used to grade my papers. We shared a major and a university as well as the teacher/student relationship. I wrote a really stupid letter, which thank dog I didn't save, and of course, heard nothing. How many letters a week does he get like that?
The second scenario was even worse. I went to a reading my Peter Mayle, a uniformly nice man, and was last in line for the book signing, at which time I handed him an envelope with some of my novel and an SASE. Bear in mind he was on a book tour. Though I checked the mailbox for months, I never saw my SASE. I didn't know the rules, which are that an unpublished writer may never ever under any circumstances ask or beg a published writer to a) read your work, b) recommend an agent and c) waste their time. This should be the first thing taught day-one in any writing course.
I still feel the humiliation. Somehow, through luck or chutzpah your work has to reach the published author's attention without your having appeared to have done anything. A reading, maybe, or prescient remarks one made, I don't know, still haven't figured it out. Take one of their classes and be brilliant. Assuming time, money and whatever you write will be brilliant. Maybe show up with something polished and honed for 10 years that you pretend to just dash off? Guile, in other words.
Last words of a longish post. I have read two books on this week's best seller list, both of which came to the house via a roundabout way as ARC's. High Profile, by Robert Parker, was an ok read but not one of his best. I didn't like the ex-wife at all, and felt neutral about the new girl friend. Plot was o.k., ending too macho. Jeez. Family Tree I nearly didn't finish. Writing was O.K., just O.K, but these tear-jearky sentimental things don't ring my chimes either. Janet Evanovich rings my chines. Robert Crais. NOT James Patterson.
When Patterson retired from J. Walter Thompson and started writing full time, he used to put the names of the people who used to work for him into his books as murder victims. I knew one of them and was completely creeped out that anyone would do that. It's not as though they bid at an auction. The first book of his I ever tried to read had people hacking each other up with machetes in the first chapter. Read him twice, you might say. For the first time and the last time. Now who else can I knock today?
Why are so few women on the fiction best seller list? I doubt my Information Technology tell all will make it. So many projects. So little time. So few pats on the head. What do we do?
All together now. Suck it Up.
Grapeshot
Saturday, March 17, 2007
What's In a Name & Whither Motivation
In Promiscuous Mode, I have a good lowlife character named Earl. He lives in a trailer. I came up with Earl long long before the TV Show "My Name is Earl" debuted. But my book hasn't sold and now agents and editors are pointing out the triteness of good old Earl. What's a writer to do? So I changed his name to Darrell. Darrell Gullet sounds almost as good as Earl Gullet, and one thinks of "Darrell and his other brother Darrell," which maybe goes too far back for said agents and editors to remember. I had to change "Earl" Earl's" "Earl," and other assorted permutations. What would we do without Word's Search and Destroy capabilities.
S.O. is reading the book again, after a long absence, and I've started the synopsis. Glory be, the first and 2nd plot points are where they belong, as is the conclusion and the wrapup and the BIG GLOOM.
This novel is kind of a romance, really an anti-romance. The protag goes off with the wrong guy, because this is a series and if I ever get it published I can milk the romance/anti-romance angle from here to kingdom come. Certainly did in the Burning Man book. I think of my books as the "Goettingen book," "the East German book," the "Wisconsin book," and the "Burning Man Book." And yes, the California book.
In the meantime, I listen to my IPOD and download songs and surf the web and wonder "whither motivation?" And pill Annie the cat who indicated that "all is forgiven" today. A good thing.
So, we're moving along slowly but surely and forgetting about the web site for the time being. We had a big corned beef/cabbage feed Thursday night, because I didn't do Chinese New Year this year. Dunno what happened. Then last night friends on their way north stopped because of the weather, and lo, I fed them a corned beef and cabbage meal with even leftover strawberry shortcake dessert, and put them up for the night. It's damp and it's cold and the snow is still out there, and one certainly wouldn't want to stand and wait for a parade today.
In Boston, EVERYONE is Irish on St. Patrick's Day, even all the ethnic minorities.
Celebrate.
Grapeshot
S.O. is reading the book again, after a long absence, and I've started the synopsis. Glory be, the first and 2nd plot points are where they belong, as is the conclusion and the wrapup and the BIG GLOOM.
This novel is kind of a romance, really an anti-romance. The protag goes off with the wrong guy, because this is a series and if I ever get it published I can milk the romance/anti-romance angle from here to kingdom come. Certainly did in the Burning Man book. I think of my books as the "Goettingen book," "the East German book," the "Wisconsin book," and the "Burning Man Book." And yes, the California book.
In the meantime, I listen to my IPOD and download songs and surf the web and wonder "whither motivation?" And pill Annie the cat who indicated that "all is forgiven" today. A good thing.
So, we're moving along slowly but surely and forgetting about the web site for the time being. We had a big corned beef/cabbage feed Thursday night, because I didn't do Chinese New Year this year. Dunno what happened. Then last night friends on their way north stopped because of the weather, and lo, I fed them a corned beef and cabbage meal with even leftover strawberry shortcake dessert, and put them up for the night. It's damp and it's cold and the snow is still out there, and one certainly wouldn't want to stand and wait for a parade today.
In Boston, EVERYONE is Irish on St. Patrick's Day, even all the ethnic minorities.
Celebrate.
Grapeshot
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
The Critical Eye
Finally back to editing Promiscous Mode again, the pages where I got so caught up in reading I forgot to read with the Critical Eye. Didn't find much, mayb 100 words, but what the heck? I would gladly shed 100 ounces or even 100 grams. Of course what I am postponing is writing a synopsis for this sucker.
The problem: I am juggling three plots and I can't really decide which is the main one. Dumb, huh? Other problem. Can't decide who or what is the antagonist. Yet the book has beginning, middle and end, lots of plot points and EVERYTHING gets wrapped up in the end. So what is the problem? Maybe I'll draw straws.
I have something like 45 agents to query once I have a synopsis. Really do want to have a good one. Two pages, smooth as butter.
We're been living off one turkey breast since Saturday. Two night a straight Thanksgiving-type dinner. 3rd night hot turkey sandwiches, fourth and five nights (tonight) turkey pot pie. Thank heavens the bird is gone. It cost $7.00 and change. That's a lot of eating for that money. Sides were cheap, too. Tonight I threw together a fresh pear and cranberry crisp type of dessert with a flour/butter/sugar/oatmeal topping. A soupcon of cinnamon. Yum!
Tomorrow is corned beef dinner and maybe strawberry shortcake for dessert. I have nice fresh carrots, parsnips, potatoes, onions and cabbage to cook with the meat. No turnips. Grapeshot doesn't like turnips, at least not the big ugly ones. Ick.
The New England weather couldn't be beat today, and S.O. sat on the deck and watched the birds come to the feeders. We saw the cute little wren and some sort of song sparrow. I hung two wren houses yesterday--tried to keep them far apart. Hope somebody nests therein. Also saw a big butterfly. The slough is thawing. Tomorrow is to be rainy and then it gets cold again. Typical March, huh
Adapt.
Grapeshot
The problem: I am juggling three plots and I can't really decide which is the main one. Dumb, huh? Other problem. Can't decide who or what is the antagonist. Yet the book has beginning, middle and end, lots of plot points and EVERYTHING gets wrapped up in the end. So what is the problem? Maybe I'll draw straws.
I have something like 45 agents to query once I have a synopsis. Really do want to have a good one. Two pages, smooth as butter.
We're been living off one turkey breast since Saturday. Two night a straight Thanksgiving-type dinner. 3rd night hot turkey sandwiches, fourth and five nights (tonight) turkey pot pie. Thank heavens the bird is gone. It cost $7.00 and change. That's a lot of eating for that money. Sides were cheap, too. Tonight I threw together a fresh pear and cranberry crisp type of dessert with a flour/butter/sugar/oatmeal topping. A soupcon of cinnamon. Yum!
Tomorrow is corned beef dinner and maybe strawberry shortcake for dessert. I have nice fresh carrots, parsnips, potatoes, onions and cabbage to cook with the meat. No turnips. Grapeshot doesn't like turnips, at least not the big ugly ones. Ick.
The New England weather couldn't be beat today, and S.O. sat on the deck and watched the birds come to the feeders. We saw the cute little wren and some sort of song sparrow. I hung two wren houses yesterday--tried to keep them far apart. Hope somebody nests therein. Also saw a big butterfly. The slough is thawing. Tomorrow is to be rainy and then it gets cold again. Typical March, huh
Adapt.
Grapeshot
Monday, March 12, 2007
5,000 words gone from Promiscuous Mode
I've been on a cutting spree, hacking 5000+ words out of my novel in hopes of making it more saleable, and indeed I don't think anyway will ever miss these words. Quite an exercise. A couple times I got to caught up in the story that I forgot to look for cuts. Guess that's good. It is a twisty thing, with lots of cool characters. The bad ones are good. You know what I mean.
It's hard to look at every word and ask oneself, "does that word belong there?" I found I had the most trouble when I was trying to explain something technical. There, I didn't cut so much as try to explain better. Mystery readers are "people people" and they like lots of feelings, which computer people don't always exhibit on their rolled up sleeves. So like everything else, it's a balancing act. Think I did O.K. The part where the lovers broke up was really sad. The wild ride on the raft was exciting. The part I forgot to look at with a critical eye was when my sleuth was sneaking around an office at night. She got caught, of course.
No progress on the web site, but I'm hoping the 2nd half of the month. Saw another robin this a.m., and heard bird of spring singing when we took our walk.
Household hint, sort of. I collect nice dry fallen pine cones (big ones) and use them for starting fires in the fireplace. They burn like hell (!) and work really well.
We grilled a turkey breast Saturday and will live on it for at leas two more days. I made gravy (gravy, not sauce) from the drippings and it was fantastic. So lately we've sneaked in some grilling around the still wintry days. With daylight savings time, it is still light enough that S.O. doesn't have to go out with a flashlight.
Onward,
Grapeshot
It's hard to look at every word and ask oneself, "does that word belong there?" I found I had the most trouble when I was trying to explain something technical. There, I didn't cut so much as try to explain better. Mystery readers are "people people" and they like lots of feelings, which computer people don't always exhibit on their rolled up sleeves. So like everything else, it's a balancing act. Think I did O.K. The part where the lovers broke up was really sad. The wild ride on the raft was exciting. The part I forgot to look at with a critical eye was when my sleuth was sneaking around an office at night. She got caught, of course.
No progress on the web site, but I'm hoping the 2nd half of the month. Saw another robin this a.m., and heard bird of spring singing when we took our walk.
Household hint, sort of. I collect nice dry fallen pine cones (big ones) and use them for starting fires in the fireplace. They burn like hell (!) and work really well.
We grilled a turkey breast Saturday and will live on it for at leas two more days. I made gravy (gravy, not sauce) from the drippings and it was fantastic. So lately we've sneaked in some grilling around the still wintry days. With daylight savings time, it is still light enough that S.O. doesn't have to go out with a flashlight.
Onward,
Grapeshot
Sunday, March 11, 2007
A Walk Through the Woods and Around the Lake
Sometimes we walk in the Audubon preserve in Norton, sometimes in Sharon, in days of yore in Natick. Today, with the weather in the 50's, we drove to Norton. Immediately greeted by some Canada geese. We strode along through the woods and the sun disappeared and a sharp wind with a memory of winter blew up. We saw some folks with a big assed telescope looking at some ducks across the ice. Mergansers, they said. One woman was a font of knowledge, about the turtles, the geese, the lone swan. One pair of swans will chase all the others away and become downright vicious if their territory is invaded. My mother always told me that swans grabbed children and pulled them into the water and drowned them. Needless to say, I've always been a bit leery of swans.
The naturalist explained that Canada Geese would not be such a problem is farmers hadn't captured some years and years ago, clipped their wings and used them as live decoys to lure other geese to lakes (as in roast goose for dinner). Now what I didn't know was that geese don't migrate naturally; they have to be "taught." So as time went on, more and more geese were born that didn't migrate. Now we are stuck with them. The woman said goose poop is harmless and one could even eat it without ill effects. She didn't and I sure as hell didn't, in fact I tried not to step in it.
We walked on, pussy footing thru an icy area and back around to where the geese were and one had to trod gingerly. Some of the geese had mates and other males were looking for mates, so there was some bad blood and hissing and jockeying for territory. We saw an interesting pair that were giving each other love pecks on the neck. I noticed the ones who flew in and landed on ice didn't even skid. They had the landing nailed.
We saw the first robin yesterday. I need to get out for a walk every day for my mental health. The chives are trying to come up again. Tomorrow will be warmer still. An early spring? One always hopes.
The naturalist explained that Canada Geese would not be such a problem is farmers hadn't captured some years and years ago, clipped their wings and used them as live decoys to lure other geese to lakes (as in roast goose for dinner). Now what I didn't know was that geese don't migrate naturally; they have to be "taught." So as time went on, more and more geese were born that didn't migrate. Now we are stuck with them. The woman said goose poop is harmless and one could even eat it without ill effects. She didn't and I sure as hell didn't, in fact I tried not to step in it.
We walked on, pussy footing thru an icy area and back around to where the geese were and one had to trod gingerly. Some of the geese had mates and other males were looking for mates, so there was some bad blood and hissing and jockeying for territory. We saw an interesting pair that were giving each other love pecks on the neck. I noticed the ones who flew in and landed on ice didn't even skid. They had the landing nailed.
We saw the first robin yesterday. I need to get out for a walk every day for my mental health. The chives are trying to come up again. Tomorrow will be warmer still. An early spring? One always hopes.
Life Sucks and Then You Die
I haven't posted much this week because we received news that a dear friend is dying of cancer, the kind that kills always and quickly. She spent a year nursing her husband thru his fatal illness, and then she soldiered on, selling three pieces of property and getting everything in order. She had just had a hip replacement and now should have been looking forward to a few years of travel, grandchildren and friends. It won't happen.
I think of how frightened she was of her diabetes, and how she almost never drank or ate a dessert (even a bite) and kept to a Draconian diet because the endocrinologist told her if she did not, she would die a horrible death.
Her husband babied her, paying bills, doing laundry, shopping, even cooking. She was not even computer literate, and after he died she had a difficult time adjusting to taking charge of things.
She was a holocast survivor and had begun writing memoirs. The old Chinese curse, "may you live in interesting times" gave her lots to write about.
She always saw the glass half-empty, and now of course one wonders if she had a premonition that the glass would indeed be half-empty.
Such a shame. Life sucks, and then you die.
I think of how frightened she was of her diabetes, and how she almost never drank or ate a dessert (even a bite) and kept to a Draconian diet because the endocrinologist told her if she did not, she would die a horrible death.
Her husband babied her, paying bills, doing laundry, shopping, even cooking. She was not even computer literate, and after he died she had a difficult time adjusting to taking charge of things.
She was a holocast survivor and had begun writing memoirs. The old Chinese curse, "may you live in interesting times" gave her lots to write about.
She always saw the glass half-empty, and now of course one wonders if she had a premonition that the glass would indeed be half-empty.
Such a shame. Life sucks, and then you die.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
College Drinking Song- Let Nellie Sleep Under the Bar
We were driving home on a very cold night and this old ditty from college days popped into my head. Where are all these old words stored? Do they fill up one's brain?
Twas a cold winter evening
The guests were all leaving
O’Leary was closing the bar
When he turned and he said
To the Lady in Red
Get out you can’t stay here no more.
She wept a sad tear
In her bottle of beer
As she thought of the cold night ahead,
When a gentleman dapper
Stepped out of the crapper,
And these are the words that he said.
Her mother never told her
The things a young girl should know
About the ways of college men
And how they come and go (mostly go).
Now age has taken her beauty
And sin has left its sad scar.
So remember your mothers and sisters, boys,
Let Nellie sleep under the bar.
Twas a cold winter evening
The guests were all leaving
O’Leary was closing the bar
When he turned and he said
To the Lady in Red
Get out you can’t stay here no more.
She wept a sad tear
In her bottle of beer
As she thought of the cold night ahead,
When a gentleman dapper
Stepped out of the crapper,
And these are the words that he said.
Her mother never told her
The things a young girl should know
About the ways of college men
And how they come and go (mostly go).
Now age has taken her beauty
And sin has left its sad scar.
So remember your mothers and sisters, boys,
Let Nellie sleep under the bar.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
At the Vet's
Back at the vets with Annie for a blood test and medication readjustment. Some confusion among staff as to what we are there for. While this gets straightened out I look around.
A very large man is filling out paperwork and from his talk with the receptionist his pet (never did find out whether cat or dog) is there to be euthanized. Instant sympathy. He calls a number they give him and arranges for cremation and to receive the ashes. By now I am practically in tears. He declines to be present. Always seems to me that one owes the animal to be with it during its last moments no matter how upsetting. Anyway, I am feeling lots of sadness and empathy and casting glances at Annie, glad that she is sitting in the carrier in relative tranquility. So I never notice what Significant Other sees.
The man has helped himself to a dog biscuit from a "cookie jar" on the counter and scarfed it down. The thing is, the bisquits are shaped like bones and there can be no mistaking that this is a dog treat. Absent-minded, due to grief? He was a very big guy. Intentional? Eats dog biscuits all the time and finds them tasty. Dunno. Life, as they say, goes on.
I recall some horrendous trips to the vet and so there is always something tinged with sadness and regret. Annie felt frisky enough today to chase Thisbe out of the home office which Annie regards as HER territory.
Cats!
Grapeshot
A very large man is filling out paperwork and from his talk with the receptionist his pet (never did find out whether cat or dog) is there to be euthanized. Instant sympathy. He calls a number they give him and arranges for cremation and to receive the ashes. By now I am practically in tears. He declines to be present. Always seems to me that one owes the animal to be with it during its last moments no matter how upsetting. Anyway, I am feeling lots of sadness and empathy and casting glances at Annie, glad that she is sitting in the carrier in relative tranquility. So I never notice what Significant Other sees.
The man has helped himself to a dog biscuit from a "cookie jar" on the counter and scarfed it down. The thing is, the bisquits are shaped like bones and there can be no mistaking that this is a dog treat. Absent-minded, due to grief? He was a very big guy. Intentional? Eats dog biscuits all the time and finds them tasty. Dunno. Life, as they say, goes on.
I recall some horrendous trips to the vet and so there is always something tinged with sadness and regret. Annie felt frisky enough today to chase Thisbe out of the home office which Annie regards as HER territory.
Cats!
Grapeshot
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Sunday Times Book Review
Meaty stuff, indeed a whole pot roast of interesting reviews in today's NY Times Book Review. I would like to read Milan Kundera's essays as well as The Communist's Daughter, a novel by Dennis Bock. The nonfiction book, The Father of All Things, about a father and son's visit to Viet Nam is high on my list of "to be read." Written by the son, the father becomes the perhaps unlikely hero. A bunch of other good stuff including Tennessee Williams' Notebooks.
Becoming Judy Chicago, A Biography of the Artist, just has to be good. I remember seeing The Dinner Party in Chicago way back when. I went with a friend and we were absolutely blown away by those plates on the tables, plate after fantastic, incredible plate. I saw the exhibit once again and like it even more, and now it will have a permanent home in New York at the Sackler Center in Brooklyn. Hooray! I find this really exciting. If you want to know what the late sixties and seventies were all about, see this exhibit. I'll be taking it in as soon as time and finances allow. Yay, Judy Chicago!
The best seller list is always instructive. James Patterson up the ying yang, some sentimental twaddle, the usual thrillers and Janet Evanovich, who makes me laugh out loud embarrass myself in public. I wouldn't dare read her on a train or plane. She's a nice lady, too, and shares of herself. Ten Days in The Hills by Jane Smiley, also reviewed in the Times, a modern day Decameron, has been panned a lot. Lots of talk, lots of apparently x-rated sex, and no plot to speak of. What was she thinking of? Ya gotta have plot. Miles and miles and miles of plot. Hmmm. I think I could do a whole parody here.
In the letters, someone pointed out that 50's pre-Castro Cuba had been written about and very well in the novel Three Trapped Tigers, (Cabrera Infante)which I enjoyed a lot way back in the 70's when I was a slip of a girl.
High Profile by Robert Parker is on the best seller list and on my nightstand, a coinidence that almost never occurs. I am enjoying it moderately. The very laconic dialogue starts to sound a little weird after 100 pages, and I don't find the ex-wife very sympatische. Oh well.
Nothing of interest on the paperback best seller list but Lisa Scottoline's Dirty Blonde, which I do want to read.
We drove to Cape Cod for lunch today, all the way to Provincetown, or P-town, as it's called locally. The sign on 495 states The Cape and the Islands. Would an outlander find this confusing? Would he know he was heading to Cape Cod and the ferries to Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard, the aforementioned "Islands."
P-town in winter is delightful. A brisk windy day that began sunny. We took 6A, the shunpike there and loved driving through the historic little towns with glimpses of water and salt marshes, the closed art galleries and restaurants, the for sale signs, the very gray twisty tree trunks, gnarled by salt and wind, and all the little gray shingled houses, big ones too, the inns and the quaint gift shops. The restaurant we wanted in P-town was closed. Last winter it was open, so we found another and had a scallop role that couldn't be beat and a Caesar salad with homemmade croutons and a soupcon of anchovy. Typical half-straight half-gay crowd, with the gays better dressed. We looked like the typical urban couple on a Sunday outing, which we were. I had hoped to eat some oysters. Well, there's always Legal Seafood, n'est pas?
Friday night at Handel and Haydn about 5 - 10% of women wore tailored blazers. This is something I'm looking at all the time now. Still most laidies wore sweaters. After all, it's New England in the winter, and what could be more appropriate that warm wool? Which was what we wore today, as well.
It's going to be colder than a well-digger's you-know-what this week, so warm wool is required.
Looking in vain for signs of spring,
Grapeshot
Becoming Judy Chicago, A Biography of the Artist, just has to be good. I remember seeing The Dinner Party in Chicago way back when. I went with a friend and we were absolutely blown away by those plates on the tables, plate after fantastic, incredible plate. I saw the exhibit once again and like it even more, and now it will have a permanent home in New York at the Sackler Center in Brooklyn. Hooray! I find this really exciting. If you want to know what the late sixties and seventies were all about, see this exhibit. I'll be taking it in as soon as time and finances allow. Yay, Judy Chicago!
The best seller list is always instructive. James Patterson up the ying yang, some sentimental twaddle, the usual thrillers and Janet Evanovich, who makes me laugh out loud embarrass myself in public. I wouldn't dare read her on a train or plane. She's a nice lady, too, and shares of herself. Ten Days in The Hills by Jane Smiley, also reviewed in the Times, a modern day Decameron, has been panned a lot. Lots of talk, lots of apparently x-rated sex, and no plot to speak of. What was she thinking of? Ya gotta have plot. Miles and miles and miles of plot. Hmmm. I think I could do a whole parody here.
In the letters, someone pointed out that 50's pre-Castro Cuba had been written about and very well in the novel Three Trapped Tigers, (Cabrera Infante)which I enjoyed a lot way back in the 70's when I was a slip of a girl.
High Profile by Robert Parker is on the best seller list and on my nightstand, a coinidence that almost never occurs. I am enjoying it moderately. The very laconic dialogue starts to sound a little weird after 100 pages, and I don't find the ex-wife very sympatische. Oh well.
Nothing of interest on the paperback best seller list but Lisa Scottoline's Dirty Blonde, which I do want to read.
We drove to Cape Cod for lunch today, all the way to Provincetown, or P-town, as it's called locally. The sign on 495 states The Cape and the Islands. Would an outlander find this confusing? Would he know he was heading to Cape Cod and the ferries to Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard, the aforementioned "Islands."
P-town in winter is delightful. A brisk windy day that began sunny. We took 6A, the shunpike there and loved driving through the historic little towns with glimpses of water and salt marshes, the closed art galleries and restaurants, the for sale signs, the very gray twisty tree trunks, gnarled by salt and wind, and all the little gray shingled houses, big ones too, the inns and the quaint gift shops. The restaurant we wanted in P-town was closed. Last winter it was open, so we found another and had a scallop role that couldn't be beat and a Caesar salad with homemmade croutons and a soupcon of anchovy. Typical half-straight half-gay crowd, with the gays better dressed. We looked like the typical urban couple on a Sunday outing, which we were. I had hoped to eat some oysters. Well, there's always Legal Seafood, n'est pas?
Friday night at Handel and Haydn about 5 - 10% of women wore tailored blazers. This is something I'm looking at all the time now. Still most laidies wore sweaters. After all, it's New England in the winter, and what could be more appropriate that warm wool? Which was what we wore today, as well.
It's going to be colder than a well-digger's you-know-what this week, so warm wool is required.
Looking in vain for signs of spring,
Grapeshot
Saturday, March 03, 2007
500th Post and I am pulling my hair out in big clumps
I worked in technology for 25+ years and do not consider myself an ignoramus. Maybe I'm wrong. In late fall, I downloaded Internet Explorer 7.1 to my computer. Took just about forever, but there were no problems. When I signed on, I didn't see any changes, but that's often the case.
The first weirdness was when I looked for Internet Explorer and couldn't find it. Nada. I thought I would need to unbury it and put the icon on the desktop. No icon. Didn't think too much about it. Didn't see any new features, either, but what the hell.
I have been using AOL since God was a boy, and 8000+ people and institutions and everybody whose anybody has my email address, so I have beem reluctant to make a MAJOR CHANGE.
Then I needed to update my web site and not finding Internet Explorer was major problemo. Got busy doing something else. Today, for no discernable reason, the fonts in AOL were HUGE. Did not like. Decided to get to the bottom of the IE problem. Discovered I had no IE tool bar. Who knew? Googled around and found information that the registry keys were probably corrupt and restoring them would bring back the toolbar. Fooling around with the registry keys is high stress keep-your-fingers-crosssed stuff, but I persevered. No toolbar. Googled around and thought I found something that mentioned AOL did not use the IE toolbar, but that couldn't be right. Looked all over the friggin computer and found various IE folders but nothing with a key that you could actually click on.
Went into Microsoft and looked for user groups, etc., and found no useful information. Getting mad now. Feeling put upon and also stubborn. Downloaded Google stuff which promised IE toolbar. SOL. Really mad now, having wasted good hours.
I have to either SUCK IT UP bigtime and pay microsoft $59.00 per hour to find out why their IE7 shit the bed without telling me, or pay a geek to come and fix things. I cannot live without IE 7 any longer. This is so annoying. SO VERY ANNOYING. And of course AOL and Microsoft will start finger pointing. EVEN MORE annoying. So I am thinking seriously of leaving AOL which will necessitate DAYS changing email addresess. Right now I am thinking all the words the newspaper cannot print. How did everything get so gd complicated? Thinking of leaving Microsoft for Apple on the next computer. I am mad. Enraged. Bull Shit.
Unwilling to suck it up on this issue.
Grapeshot
The first weirdness was when I looked for Internet Explorer and couldn't find it. Nada. I thought I would need to unbury it and put the icon on the desktop. No icon. Didn't think too much about it. Didn't see any new features, either, but what the hell.
I have been using AOL since God was a boy, and 8000+ people and institutions and everybody whose anybody has my email address, so I have beem reluctant to make a MAJOR CHANGE.
Then I needed to update my web site and not finding Internet Explorer was major problemo. Got busy doing something else. Today, for no discernable reason, the fonts in AOL were HUGE. Did not like. Decided to get to the bottom of the IE problem. Discovered I had no IE tool bar. Who knew? Googled around and found information that the registry keys were probably corrupt and restoring them would bring back the toolbar. Fooling around with the registry keys is high stress keep-your-fingers-crosssed stuff, but I persevered. No toolbar. Googled around and thought I found something that mentioned AOL did not use the IE toolbar, but that couldn't be right. Looked all over the friggin computer and found various IE folders but nothing with a key that you could actually click on.
Went into Microsoft and looked for user groups, etc., and found no useful information. Getting mad now. Feeling put upon and also stubborn. Downloaded Google stuff which promised IE toolbar. SOL. Really mad now, having wasted good hours.
I have to either SUCK IT UP bigtime and pay microsoft $59.00 per hour to find out why their IE7 shit the bed without telling me, or pay a geek to come and fix things. I cannot live without IE 7 any longer. This is so annoying. SO VERY ANNOYING. And of course AOL and Microsoft will start finger pointing. EVEN MORE annoying. So I am thinking seriously of leaving AOL which will necessitate DAYS changing email addresess. Right now I am thinking all the words the newspaper cannot print. How did everything get so gd complicated? Thinking of leaving Microsoft for Apple on the next computer. I am mad. Enraged. Bull Shit.
Unwilling to suck it up on this issue.
Grapeshot
Friday, March 02, 2007
The Rains Came
We are living in a rain forest. Ye gods! Yesterday the weather almost felt like spring. Today, we had snow, slush and this a sh__load of rain. The street is a river and across the street is a lake. Gloom and doom. Bah!
I have found a new way to waste time. Look for cheap airfares on the Net. Try just one more airport, one more airline. Another way to waste time. Redeem Delta Frequent Flier Miles. Two hours on various holds over two days. At least I could sit here and surf the web and download itunes and all that stuff.
World of Mirrors is off to MacMillan New Writing with its new synopsis, a brief bio and all 96,500 words.
When I started thinking about Promiscuous Mode's synopsis, I realized there may be some structural problems. Now bear in mind, 2 agents and one editor have really really liked this book. Anyway, I want to cut 10,000 words and take another whack. Do this in March while I redo the web site. Always too much to do. Life if full. A good thing.
Two blogs I ran across today, which I rather liked:
http://www.sereneambition.com/blog/jimselman/
http://grumpyoldbookman.blogspot.com/
Check them out. Tomorrow will be my 500th post. Zowie!
Grapeshot
I have found a new way to waste time. Look for cheap airfares on the Net. Try just one more airport, one more airline. Another way to waste time. Redeem Delta Frequent Flier Miles. Two hours on various holds over two days. At least I could sit here and surf the web and download itunes and all that stuff.
World of Mirrors is off to MacMillan New Writing with its new synopsis, a brief bio and all 96,500 words.
When I started thinking about Promiscuous Mode's synopsis, I realized there may be some structural problems. Now bear in mind, 2 agents and one editor have really really liked this book. Anyway, I want to cut 10,000 words and take another whack. Do this in March while I redo the web site. Always too much to do. Life if full. A good thing.
Two blogs I ran across today, which I rather liked:
http://www.sereneambition.com/blog/jimselman/
http://grumpyoldbookman.blogspot.com/
Check them out. Tomorrow will be my 500th post. Zowie!
Grapeshot
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
