Amazon's Contest, Authonomy, and the Fish Story

Yesterday morning I got my entry up on Amazon's novel contest. Not only did one need the actual book but a pitch, photo, anecdote (mine was pretty anemic) and all that jazz. It was like---work. https://www.createspace.com/abna

I put another book up on Authonomy, but haven't had a chance to participate in the web site. You read my book, I'll read yours, we'll blurb each other and may the best writer win. We'll see.

Finished the robot fish story. Love that fish. It's it crazy how one comes to love one's little characters, even a robot fish. He seems very real to me.

Now it's back to the novel. Poor old Maxine. She hasn't been given her due lately. It's always hard to get back once you leave a manuscript. Speaking of leaving, we taking a few days of R and R in Washington DC. So far no dinner invitation from the Obama's. Hell, I would even make my to die for pork shoulder tacos.

Yesterday I made cookies, and they're incredibly tasty and not too sweet. Recipes have lately become over-laden with sugar and even the cranberry sauce recipe changed the sugar recommendation from one cup (already on the sweetish side) to 1 1/2 cups. Yucko. I bet the grocery stores who are labelling "healthy foods" will not skip the sweet stuff. Overdosing on sugar is not healthy. The low-fat freaks took out the fat and added sugar and salt. What sense does that make?

I lost my favorite glove at Walmart this morning. Already lost a nice red leather pair this winter, and my good fleece baseball cap. So far it's a bad winter for losing clothing. My warm up jacket is also among the missing. Where does all this stuff go?

Up to the kitchen to make some low-cal rice pudding. What could be better on a snowy winter day? High-cal rice pudding, that's what.

Yeah, it's snowing. Again. We put more suet out for the birdies. Writing group cancelled last night. About 13 people, now and we still have to cancel all the time. Major bummer. All this stuff about hardy New Englanders is bull. Other myths: up North they really know how to drive in bad weather, and up North they keep the roads plowed. I am here to witness that neither is true. Sometime I will make a list of lies. Around here at least, the ground hog saw his shadow and I never remember a spring coming in March no matter what. Yet another lie.

Bah humbug.

Grapeshot

Writing and Other Occupations

I haven't been posting as regularly as I might, because I've actually been getting books ready to send out to agents and editors. In other words, not sucking it up quite as much as usual. Takes a lot of time to re-edit an entire manuscript and print it. Staples had a BOGO on paper this week, so now we have a year's supply. We applied to work on the census, and I wrote a press release for my Toastmaster's club. Had a dinner party. Cooked and then cooked some more. Got ready to enter a novel in the Amazon/ABNA contest. The good thing about having novels backed up waiting to sell is that you really stay busy flogging them. (I love Britishisms) .

It's taking more time to manage my so-called "retirement" than I thought. This would be the stuff of an article were I so inclined.

Today I joined Authonomy and put World of Mirrors (first 6 chapters) up on it. These sites where everyone sucks up for votes and comments, comments, comments make me a little nervous, geeky hermit type that, au fond, I am.

Speaking of au fond, I'm working on my fish story again, and finally found the site for the conclusion. Man, this has been work. Poor Francis. He's been through the mill. I do love my characters, even the non-human ones.

Iris, the Scottish Highland Mama has a big gore in her side. I think the gorer was Maggie. They are both somewhat obstreperous, and Iris has been beside herself since her calf was sent away. Don't know what Maggie's problem is. I climb up on the snowbank and throw the scraps over the fence. We buy cheap bread (hard to find nowadays) and feed the ducks on the way home from the store. Can you believe Wonder Bread costs over three dollars? I was appalled at paying $4.00 for a superior loaf of bread, but maybe that's not even a bad price.

Tomorrow, we will again partake of our tradition of having meatloaf for the SuperBowl. Meatloaf is easy to eat if you're watching TV. Doesn't have to be cut, no messy gravy, you know. Is a ritual also a myth? Inquiring minds want to know. Is a tradition a ritual? I know someone who puts the flag up and has a big rigamarole before every Patriots game. Is that a tradition, a ritual or just foolishness?

So, tradition or ritual, meatloaf it is. I'm not making my complicated meatloaf, but the simple one my mother taught me. I use oatmeal instead of cracker crumbs. Chacun a son gout.

I've been searching through my mom's old photographs and looking at the ones from the summer she went to school at Emporia State Teacher's College. Looks like she and her little gang had a wonderful summer. No TV, No electronics, no booze, no smokes, maybe no guys, but the girls had fun. No city and no sex. Probably a curfew. They almost always wore summer dresses. Not too flapperish, but sorta. It is just so hard to put my 21st century self back to 1926. Young Girls in Flower. Proust had it right.

As ever,

Grapeshot