My string of stupid mistakes continues. This morning I took my car in--yeah! repair of the top-lowering mechanism was covered by warranty. I separated my other keys from the car key (I have a simple pop-apart thing that does that) and went about my day. Betty picked me up for lunch at the Modern Art Museum, where I indulged in a charcuterie platter--I don't often allow myself to eat pate because it's so bad for you, but it sure was good. Then she dropped me off, I got the car and came home. Once in the garage I couldn't find the house keys. I tore my purse apart, called Jordan to say I was coming to get her key to my house (which she couldn't find) and backed out of the garage, thinking I'd tear my purse apart one more time. Found them caught in an obscure pocket. I think that's three things, so the spell should have run its course. Two thoughts on this: if I'd driven out to Jordan's house, 20 minutes away, I would really be mad, though I have no one to blame but myself, and I seem to have a fixation lately about losing my keys, which I've been known to do a lot, except that they always turn up.
Last fall TCU Press published Grace & Gumption: Stories of Fort Worth Women. I've mentioned it before on the blog but to refresh: 14 area authors each contributed a chapter to the first women's history of Fort Worth and, in the process, became a bonded, close-knit group. The book was a huge success, flew off the shelves in Fort Worth, and the project grew wings. Forthcoming is a cookbook, with what recipes we can find from women in the book (they were all deceased--a requirement for inclusion, for practical reasons). People began to write and call telling us about women who should have been in the book, and we toyed with a second volume. One day in a light-bulb moment it struck me that a blog would be ideal for continuing the project. So, as of today, the Grace & Gumption blog is live. Check it out at http://www.graceandgumlption.blogspot.com/. And if you have stories about Fort Worth women, send them to tcupress@tcu.edu. We'd love to have digital pictures too.
I mentioned that Fred Erisman's advice to me in writing is always to slow down. He also said Sunday that Patt, his wife, doesn't like books that are all dialog. She wants description, enough that she feels she is in the story--that is of course my ultimate criterion for absorbing fiction. I told her not to read Spenser novels, but I also took that caution to heart. I knew all along that I was getting lost in dialog, so last night I went back over the first three chapters, filling out description and also Kelly's thoughts. Amazing how in one line I finally captured just the feel I want. She's describing Claire, who has just come to her house, impeccably dressed, to announce she shot her husband in the derriere (not the way she says it). Kelly notices in the midst of this trauma that her outfit is perfect, down to color coordinated sandals, and reflects that she herself is wearing light cotton workout pants and a T-shirt and is barefoot. To me, that captures the essence of Kelly. I felt good about it and other revisions and was really quite pleased with myself. I also rescued from oblivion a column I thought was awful and got a good start on another, so I was full of work and proud of it.
And then I took a little time for myself, almost finishing a Diane Mott Davidson catering mystery, Sticks & Scones. I like Davidson, though the way she puts off cooking for large events until the last minute causes me heartburn, and her recipes are far too complicated for me. But the stories are good, the people engaging, and Davidson knows her fictional town of Aspen Meadows, outside Denver. In fact, I think her novels these days are much better than the first one or two in the series. But it struck me that a lot of implausible things happen to Goldy, the central figure. This time she's come across the theft of a multi-million dollar stamp collection, finds a body in the river, is attacked by a fencing master and then someone pours boiling water on her from a "murder hole" in a castle ceiling. This all made me think--I'm trying to keep Kelly's adventures within the realm of possibility--things that really do happen in urban areas, like hidden family secrets that can lead to murder, domestic disputes that can push someone over the edge, even serial killers. I'm toying in my mind with the distinction and not sure about it yet.
Excuse me, but I got up to the last chapter at the car dealership this morning, and I really have to finish it.
Last fall TCU Press published Grace & Gumption: Stories of Fort Worth Women. I've mentioned it before on the blog but to refresh: 14 area authors each contributed a chapter to the first women's history of Fort Worth and, in the process, became a bonded, close-knit group. The book was a huge success, flew off the shelves in Fort Worth, and the project grew wings. Forthcoming is a cookbook, with what recipes we can find from women in the book (they were all deceased--a requirement for inclusion, for practical reasons). People began to write and call telling us about women who should have been in the book, and we toyed with a second volume. One day in a light-bulb moment it struck me that a blog would be ideal for continuing the project. So, as of today, the Grace & Gumption blog is live. Check it out at http://www.graceandgumlption.blogspot.com/. And if you have stories about Fort Worth women, send them to tcupress@tcu.edu. We'd love to have digital pictures too.I mentioned that Fred Erisman's advice to me in writing is always to slow down. He also said Sunday that Patt, his wife, doesn't like books that are all dialog. She wants description, enough that she feels she is in the story--that is of course my ultimate criterion for absorbing fiction. I told her not to read Spenser novels, but I also took that caution to heart. I knew all along that I was getting lost in dialog, so last night I went back over the first three chapters, filling out description and also Kelly's thoughts. Amazing how in one line I finally captured just the feel I want. She's describing Claire, who has just come to her house, impeccably dressed, to announce she shot her husband in the derriere (not the way she says it). Kelly notices in the midst of this trauma that her outfit is perfect, down to color coordinated sandals, and reflects that she herself is wearing light cotton workout pants and a T-shirt and is barefoot. To me, that captures the essence of Kelly. I felt good about it and other revisions and was really quite pleased with myself. I also rescued from oblivion a column I thought was awful and got a good start on another, so I was full of work and proud of it.
And then I took a little time for myself, almost finishing a Diane Mott Davidson catering mystery, Sticks & Scones. I like Davidson, though the way she puts off cooking for large events until the last minute causes me heartburn, and her recipes are far too complicated for me. But the stories are good, the people engaging, and Davidson knows her fictional town of Aspen Meadows, outside Denver. In fact, I think her novels these days are much better than the first one or two in the series. But it struck me that a lot of implausible things happen to Goldy, the central figure. This time she's come across the theft of a multi-million dollar stamp collection, finds a body in the river, is attacked by a fencing master and then someone pours boiling water on her from a "murder hole" in a castle ceiling. This all made me think--I'm trying to keep Kelly's adventures within the realm of possibility--things that really do happen in urban areas, like hidden family secrets that can lead to murder, domestic disputes that can push someone over the edge, even serial killers. I'm toying in my mind with the distinction and not sure about it yet.
Excuse me, but I got up to the last chapter at the car dealership this morning, and I really have to finish it.
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