A sudden burst of energy and a fascinating Web site

Does this ever happen to you? You sort of drag your way through a few days and then suddenly you're energized, enthusiastic, back, as my friend Joyce Roach alwys says, "at yourself." I've been lollygagging this week. Oh, I could keep busy with Facebook and emails and Pinterest and odds and ends, like a long discussion with the plumber about why my water bill was so high. But late this morning, I finally turned my attention to the manuscript that's been on my desk since late January, waiting for revision after I got comments from beta reader Fred. And I'm suddenly "back at myself." It's lovely to go back to something written quite a while ago and discover it's not all that bad; in fact, I like parts of it, and Fred's comments are helpful. So I sailed into it.
One thing that helped: I'm a more critical reader these days. As I read more cozy mysteries, I find my taste or instincts improving. Just finished one that I thoroughly enjoyed--the plot was convoluted enough that I was left guessing until the end and the villain turned out to be the last person you'd suspect. Plus the requisite climactic scene was nail-biting indeed. But the heroine--like too many single amateur sleuths, she kept shooting herself in the foot, refusing to trust the guy who is obviously (to the reader) the good guy and crazy about her. Worse, she went lickety-split after the guys she thought were the villains, all but screaming their names from the rooftop--and, indeed, giving them to the police, who nicely ignored her as a nuisance. She was out of control. So there I had a model of what I don't want to do, and I'm re-reading carefully to make sure that Kate doeesn't behave that way.
That's right, Kate, not Kelly. What I'm reading now will come out in January, and I hope it's the first of a new series set in a small-town cafe in East Texas. Anxious as I am to encourage everyone to get to know Kelly O'Connell of Skeleton in a Dead Space and No Neighborhood for Old Women, I'm also immersed in Kate's world--and wondering if Kate and Kely are too close together in sound. I still have time to change Kate's name. I'd love opinions.
Held the first copy of No Neighborhood for Old Women in my hands today--always a thrill, though it looked a bit smaller than I expected. I love the dedication and hope my publishing pals--Gayla, Fran, Kathie, Carol and Melinda--read it. Kathie told me she doesn't read mysteries but maybe she'll read this one with her name on the dedication page--or at least read the dedication page. Gayla and Fran and Melinda are fans of the first book, so they tell me, and I don't know if Carol has read it or not. My busy friends.
I also sent out email invitations today to the two signings at the Old Neighborhood Grill: May 19, Saturday, at 7:00 a.m.--Peter, the owner, says that's when his readers come in. I'll stay as long as people stop to say hello.The second signing, for slugabeds, is at 5:30 Monday May 21, same place--great place to have supper if you're in Fort Worth. I'll post on Facebook soon, but I've already had nice response to my email flyer. Last time I signed at the Grill, it was a great success.
I stambled on a Web site today called The Secret Life of Pronouns. I believe it's a book.

http://secretlifeofpronouns.com/exercises.php. It has fascinating exercises for you to analyze yourself. One is the classic TAT which is supposed to reveal your views about yourself, the world, and relationships, but the one I liked was a Life Survey. About 80 questions but they go fast, and it instantly analyzes how you fit into four categores (I can only remember three because I was like a one in the fourth--I think it was sloth or something). The other three are Suburbanite, Cultural, and Preppie. I arrived pretty much in the middle ground on all three, and at the end was told, "This computer thinks you have a healthy approach to life, but you may try too hard at your yoga." Are you listening, Elizabeth? Check it out--it's fun. One exercise I'll have my class do--writing about an everyday object for five minutes, no longer.

So with this newfound energy, tomorrow I'm back to a world of errands, lunch and dinner engagements, etc., not that I'm complaining about any of that. Oh, and cooking. But once I get going on a major project, like these revisions, I'm usually pretty focused. 

Lush spring growth and a lazzy day.

The huge elm in front of my house is fully leafed out, except for one cluster of branches at the very top that is bare. I called the city about it--it's their tree, not mine--but I always call with trepidation, afraid they'll say it's old and they'll just cut it down. I figure since my house is ninety years old this year, the tree probably is too. The woman at the city forestry services assured me they are all about saving trees, not cutting them down. This was two weeks or so ago, so I think they have decided it the dead spot is too high and too insignificant to do anything about. Over the years branches, some of them large, have fallen off--I live in terror that one will fall on school children walking by or that, some fierce night, the entire tree will crash into my house. But I love that tree. It anchors my house to the street.
Tonight I took wine and my Kindle and sat on the porch, but mostly I stared at the tree, watching its branches wave in the spring breeze. It's a lovely evening--just the right temperature (I have no idea what) and not so humid I was aware of it. My herbs are growing beautifully. I've let my green  onions sit in the soil too long, and they're developing bulbs--I used several of them tonight in some cooking. The rest of my gutter garden is pretty much a waste--some seeds didn't come up at all, others produced scraggly plants you wouldn't want in your salad, and the cilantro has already gone to flower. Greg says that it's too hot for such a shallow planter and maybe I can use it in the fall. The onions, meantime, flourish. I tried an experiment tonight. I've read somewhere that if you put the root end of a green onion in water, it will sprout. I'm skeptical but trying. I've also read that about the base of celery--if the onions work, I may try the celery next.
I keep celery on hand mostly to make ham salad, which I love. I buy a thick slice of Black Forest ham--between a quarter and half inch--at the deli counter at Central Market, shred it in the blender, add a bit of mustard, celery, onion, and mayo to bind. Makes a great lunch for several days.
My stay-at-home day was lovely. At 9:30 this morning, I thought it loomed before me; by noon, I wondered where the morning had gone. But I sent off a guest blog post, made notes for a ten-minute talk in a week or so, did some work for my memoir class, proofread and sent off to the designer new copy for my web page, and proofread my Kelly O'Connell short story. Soon I'll offer it to you in pdf form, free of charge.
And tonight? I'm reading The Scarlet Pepper a White House mystery by Dorothy St. James. Yes, I've got work to do--papers to critique, a novel to revise--but I'm being lazy.

Good day, lazy, happy evening

My friend Betty and I have lots of adventures on our weekly dining trips, but tonight was an old favorite--Pappadeaux. But with a twist. We split the Greek salad for one, as usual--so good, but so large--and then ordered oysters. We split the Oyster Duo with Rockefeller and a Romano Parmesan sauce--three of each. But we liked the cheese ones so much we ordered another half dozen. Lots of laughs and lots of good food--and a bit of nice chardonnay. After dinner, Betty swung by her house to show off her garden, which truly is lush and lovely--I love the use of all kinds of ferns. She of course can name them but was stumped when I asked her to name the yellow flowering bush in my yard. Greg has told me the name, but I don't seem to be able to hold it in my brain. I'll ask again when he comes Friday. I came home and went out on the porch to read but was antsy--not unusual--about what waited for me on my desk. So I came in, fed the dogs, changed clothes, and settled down to write this blog and the guest blog I should have written two days ago.
But it was a nice end to a good day. Maybe it was the peanut butter toast that started it out right. (I admit many mornings when I only have cottage cheese, I'm hungry well before lunch.) At a routine doctor's appointment, the doctor confirmed that no carbs might indeed by making me cranky. He said the trick is low carb, not no carb. I finally unhooked that ugly old, really old TV in my bedroom and gave it to Booker, the crossing guard, who says his grandkids will use it for video games. And I returned the U-Verse equipment from that set to AT&T at the UPS store that I didn't even know existed downtown. The kind of little things that you're glad to get done and off your conscience.
So now on to a blog about whether or not a serial killer fits into a cozy mystery--sure hope I can make a case for it, since that's the main plot point of No Neighborhood for Old Women.
And then? The luxury of reading someone else's cozy--just finished The Last Word by Ellery Adams and thoroughly enjoyed it. I recommend it highly. Now starting The Scarlet Pepper by Dorothy St. James, one of her White House gardener series.
A good day.