Report on the Kindle

It's actually a lot of fun to read on the Kindle. My first and so far only book is Josephine Tey's Daughter of Time. It's not what I expected, but her writing is sublime and I am enjoying it a lot. No way to lose your place. Shuts off when you get up to do something.

I'm still working on getting my novel downloaded to it, and the learning curve is a little, well, curvier. I'll definitely put another book or two on it before leaving for south Florida. Taking my new notebook as well. A high tech trip, along with the digital camera.

The trip is for research on my WIP. Work In Process to the uninitiated. I have travelled to South Florida for years and years, either on business or pleasure and sometimes both. However, I never thought I would find myself writing about it. Heaven knows, there are so many authors who use the setting, and it's a great setting. Carl Hiaasen comes to mind. John McDonald's Travis Magee (sp?) hung out, as well as many others. The Florida MWA is a large and productive group.

Nevertheless, my character headed to Florida and I followed her, and she went to Miami and Key West, locales I only had a passing acquaintance with, and now I need some telling details. My drug lord lives in Miami and the character makes a crucial trip to the Keys. Again, the plot follows its wimsey, in a controlled way, of course.

The web is good for research, but nothing beats being there. So I'm off. The best thing is the book takes place this time of year, so I should be able to nail weather, sunsets, what's blooming, how wilted one feels, and all that good stuff. Yes!

More anon.

Grapeshot

Oh Wind, If Winter Comes . . .

Yikes, winter is back. Cold wind. Shrivelled rhododendums. Ice on the slough again. Ducks ain't gonna like that. Chives regretting they poked green tips above the cold ground.

Well, it was good to have a break. I think I am officially caught up with my homecoming chores. Now, if only the house were clean.

Today has been a lazy day, which is to say I lay in bed all afternoon and read. Of course, I really could do this every day, but a weird puritan streak keeps me up and about. The cats have NO problem whatsoever sleeping and lazing about all day.

I finished a great book by a woman who became caught up in the cocaine trade in Colombia in the early 70's. The co-author was a wonderful writer who really took you there, and the last 1/3 of the book was a tension-filled pounding adventure. Just what I'm trying to write. I read it as background for the Colombian "stuff." I had not expected it to be so good. The Book is The Last Run by Kay Wolff and Sybil Taylor. Good stuff. Great descriptions. Think I'll write a review for Amazon.

I had done so much research on Colombian for my robot fish short story that I knew where most everyplace was.

Agent Queries

Somali pirate. I had a dress out of the same fabric as his "headpiece" when I was in grade school. Photo may be from the BBC. Couldn't find a credit. It was on another blog that didn't credit. These pirates all have automatic weapons and cell phones.

Back to writing. I'm calmer about the whole piggy shopping scene, although the sight of all those glossy adds in today's Globe nearly got me into rant mode again. Not my zebra. Not my zoo. Just keep repeating.

I have a big list of agents to query about Promiscuous Mode, a book my writing group loved, a traditional amatuer sleuth whodunnit with lots of suspects, small town, a cat, low lifes, bass fishing. God, what more could you want?

Anyway, I need to send out some queries about this book, since the sequel is already completed. She's into high tech. He's into homicide. The Northwoods rock and roll . . . yada yada. That's my "Pitch" line. God, I wish someone would just read the freaking book. This business of queries to agents, in spite of all the good advice, is something I haven't mastered. It's like there is this giant blind spot the size of the sun.

And also I need to get back to my fabulous fish robot, Frances, and back to Lotto, the Colombian Drug Lord and his worries and tribulations. I live in a world of strange characters, and sometimes they talk to me. How weird is that? And I listen.

Lotto is a little like the Warren Beatty character in "Shampoo." Everyone wants something from him, and he's pulled in many directions.

I take some of the "props" out of the headlines, like small submarines and Somali pirates.
So, off to the drug wars and the agent battle and Indian Ocean piracy. What a fun way to spend a rainy Sunday. Take that, Baudelaire.

Cheers,

Grapeshot

Writing Bad Guys

One loves one's literary characters and doesn't want anything bad to happen to them. I am really starting to like my Columbian Drug Lord, as I flesh him out. He sees himself as a businessman with "product" and all of these disasters descend on him--supposedly loyal employees skimming money, a missing laptop, employees swimming at the shallow end of the gene pool, bad luck, smart opponents, a greedy girlfriend, huge outlays of cash for his little submarine fleet, and this woman who has disappeared, a woman who has caused him so much grief, a woman who needs to be killed. But where the hell is she? He has a grudging respect for her, and she for him. Throughout the book they will be doing this dance. I love the way he cusses and views the world and what he really wants, which is to go home to Cartagena. But of course he can't. Life is complicated. For all of us.

Tonight I took the scraps of chicken (some pretty big scraps) and made a tasty chicken pot pie with homemade crust, again the food processor recipe which takes one minute and rolls out like a dream. I had chicken fat left over, and all the savory pan juices, garlicky and lemony and chickeny. I bought a few mushrooms, but the peas, carrots, celery and onion came from the fridge. There was one problem. So good we couldn't stop eating. Not a good thing. About a million calories. Thank the lord I didn't add any heavy cream as the Food Network recipe called for. The recipe made enough for three, so there is a lunch to die for in the fridge.

We have been very busy getting ready for the mystery conference, the New England Crime Bake, and I've done mail merges for labels, which I have to relearn every time I do them, although I hope that I'll remember at least enough to do the Christmas card labels. Doing the mail merge is NOT like riding a bicycle. You forget practically everything.

Late fall is here. The colors are mostly drab and there are more leaves on the ground than on the trees. I put the acorn squash seeds outside for the critters and fed the Highland Scottish cattle their fruit and veggie scraps. The little herd has increased by four new cows with tags in their ears. A second bull has been added. Everyone seems to be getting along. They liked the acorn squash skin and the grapefruit rind and the apple cores. Banana skins always popular. We have taken recycling to a new level.

More anon.

Grapeshot