Wild days, Wild days

Emily Dickinson may have written about "Wild Nights, Wild Nights," but I had no such luxury. Instead I had a wild day day. First of all, I can't go out my front door and lock it. I can go in and I can  lock it from the inside, but can't lock it from outside, so I go out the backdoor--a bit of a nuisance. Then we had driveway congestion this morning, and I had to wait for Jordan to get back from taking Jacob to school before I could leave for a dental appointment. Then I was 30 minutes early for my appointment--me, who has no patience for waiting in a doctor's office. And long story short, I was there two hours for a simple cleaning--their schedule and not my mouth was the problem but I was at the point I wanted to say, "I don't care what you do, just get me out of here!"
Then I realized I'd pulled my car up too close to the electric gate--when I left for lunch I wouldn't be able to get out the gate from the backyard. So I went to move the car, judged the distance, and thought it would probably be all right. It wasn't. The gate hit the car and stopped. I hit the opener again, thinking it would close. It didn't. It kept trying to open. and then it wouldn't do anything. So I had essentially broken the gate. I locked it manually. It will be fixed first thing in the morning but my contractor who keeps my house together essentially said, "Please don't try to do it yourself." I asked if that's because I screwed everything up and he said, "Well, partly." When I called him I said, "This is disaster-a-day-Alter." Not sure he was amused.
Then I ordered ebooks from Amazon and couldn't get my Kindle to work. Finally did work that one out all by myself tonight but the books haven't arrived yet.
Oh, and the accountant tells me I goofed by not sending my estimated return certified with return request, so now I have to call the IRS and ask why the check hasn't cleared the bank. He advises patience in making such calls. He's new, doesn't know me well, so I explained patience is not my long suit. I'll arm myself with a book and make the call.
Every day has its bright spots: enjoyable lunch with two friends, and I'll be eating with the neighbors at the Old Neighborhood Grill tonight. Then I'm going to pull the covers over my head and start over again tomorrow.

Are short story collections dead?

During the last ten years or so that I was director of TCU Press, we routinely rejected short story collections, usually without reading them. The policy was based on bitter experience--we had published collections by well-known Texas authors, stories that I really thought were high quality. And we inevitably lost money on them. In this day of POD and  e-books, they may be more profitable, but I came away with the impression that readers don't want short stories. They want to immerse themselves in the world of a novel. Short stories were saved for literary journals and the occasional commercial magazine that publishes them. Remember when POST published all those stories by authors either already famous or soon to be? Those days too seem gone (oops, just dated myself--I mean I've read about the history of that magazine).
In the past I was asked to contribute to several themed anthologies of stories, the most difficult among them the time I had to write about some sort of firearm--I required a tutorial from my longtime friend and mentor, Fred, and if I remember correctly I wrote about a derringer--and a young girl out for revenge. "Pegeen's Revenge" was one of my favorite stories.
Today my publisher, Turquoise Morning Press, publishes themed anthologies of romance short stories. Recent titles inlude Men in Uniform, Foreign Affairs, and Be Mine, Valentine. They must be successful or TMP wouldn't continue to publish them.
I have one collection of fourteen stories in print. Sue Ellen Learns to Dance is filled with stories about what was once my focus--the lives and loves of women of the American West, both historical and contemporary. Originally published by Panther Creek Press (thank you, Guida Jackson), it got some nice blurbs and reviews but it never sold much. When I asked for permission to post it as an e-book, Guida gave me her blessing, and up it went on Kindle and Smashwords. Recently, a couple of fellow members of Sisters in Crime/Guppies have discovered the title and said some quite nice things about it but mostly it languishes.
I have two books posted myself on those platforms. One, Mattie, sells quite well. The short story collection simply doesn't sell. I know a redesigned cover would help--the current one has too academic a look, so a friend who owns a gift shop tells me. It didn't sell for her. You can comment on the cover as seen above. The photograph, which is eloquently poignant and sad, is by Dorothea Lange and was my personal pick. But at this point, I'm reluctant to put more money into redesigning the cover. Then again, maybe I didn't market it enough, put enough oomph into it (yes, this blog post is an effort to remedy that).
I don't know the answer to Sue Ellen's status, but I'm curious: do you read short stories? Collections of them? Don't get me started on poetry collections...but then, I've never written a single poem.

A cooking failure and a lovely evening

My Easter table

What do you do when it's the Saturday night before Easter and you're alone and having a pity party? Why cook yourself a good meal, of course. So that's what I did. But it didn't quite work out. First of all, I generally don't like tilapia. But I found a recipe that sounded good--poach it in wine, make a cream sauce and top with sauteed mushrooms. Of course I fiddled with the recipe--no way I'm putting two cups heavy cream in a sauce, so I added a small spoon of light sour cream. Of course I didn't let the cooking liquid reduce enough--impatience!--and I didn't as the recipe said thicken it with cornstarch or flour and water. Result was a runny sauce that did nothing for the fish. And guess what? I don't like tilapia. The aspargus was good, but I've been eating on the same bunch of aspargus all week.
I decided chocolate and chardonnay fix anything, so I took both of those, with my Kindle, out on the porch. Lovely evening. As I came out the door, a small gray and  white kitty skittered away from my monkey grass--hope she's not someone's lost baby. Then I sat and stared at squirrels, who are my enemy because they ruin my porch plants. The big old elm in front of the house has a huge knot hole in it--one  year we sat and watch birds fly in and out. They had built a nest there and were feeding babies. Tonight squirrels were in and out of it. Do they build nests? The world does not need more squirrels, at least my corner of the world.
I got my chili book as ready to send off as I can today, and the book on my pile is dark and depressing--a holocaust survival tale with a twist. Not what my mood needed. So here's the glory of an e-reader: I ordered Carolyn Hart's newest Death on Demand book, Death Comes Silently, and read until it grew too dark. Then I came in and filled the deviled egg shells--gosh that filling is good!
Mood much improved now.
For those of you who celebrate Easter, may you have a blessed day tomorrow. If Passover, enjoy that. I've lost track of how far into Passover it is, but I do have fond memories of seders more raucous than reverent. But I'm sure the intent was there, and I think seders are meant to be joyous. How I'd love some good, crisp, hot latkes!
Table set with my Easter china--check. Eggs deviled--check. Dishes out to cook lamb and vegetables--check. I'm all set for Easter dinner. So glad to share it with Sue Boggs, her children and her parents as well as Jordan, Christian, and Jacob. And maybe my Colin--what a treat even a brief visit from him will be.

The Mystery of Etta Place

Who was she? Where did she come from? What happened to Etta Place after Sundance and Butch died in a hail of bullets in South America? Well, that's the 1969 movie version--and then there's my version, now available again in ebook on a wide variety of platforms.
Here, told in first person, is my rwllinf of the story of Etta Place's life with the Sundance Kid, Butch Cassidy, and the Hole In the Wall Gang, told form her point of view and with a hint at a new look at the relationships between that infamous threesome and a question about who really died in that shootout in South America. 
She was born Martha Baird, but history will always remember her as Etta Place, the woman who rode with the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang. This is history transformed into fiction in a novel that captures all the drama, passion, and adventure of the life of one of the West’s most amazing women.
Publishers Weekly wrote “Alter is a meticulous researcher but never at the expense of a skillful first-person narrative.” And The Literary Times said, "Judy Alter is one of the finest writers of Western fiction! Her realistic portrayal of historic events touches the imagination and stirs the spirit."
Heady praise for an author with at best a mid-list career.
Here, just in case, are links to Sundance, Butch and Me:
Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Sundance-Historical-Western-Romance-ebook/dp/B007Q3LUGM/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1333393307&sr=1-2 

 Nook:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1005183916?ean=2940014178884&itm=1&usri=sundance%2c+butch+and+me

Thanks for putting up with me and my blatant self promotion. From now on, back to regular posting. Who knows? I might discuss politics--naw, probably not.

:Like seeing your chldren again

An author/friend once commented that having books out of print was like having children  you can't see. Well, I'm excited to announce that as of today I can see two of my OP "children" again. Libbie and Sundance, Butch and Me are now both available as ebooks. I've mentioned them before but in cases of blatant self promotion, I believe in repetition.
Libbie is the story of Elizabeth Bacon Custer's years with George Armstrong Custer, as I imagine them. Not all the fun and games her journals would suggest. Elmer Kelton wrote, "Libbie is probably the book Mrs. Custer would have written had she not been determined to protect her husband’s name.” a review in Romantic Times said, “A wondrous, intimate story of an unsung heroine of the West," and Affaire de Couer said, “Rings…authentically true….Brilliant and memorable….Kudos to Ms. Alter for a refreshingly unique story.” Here's a brief excerpt:

I knew that history would make a plaything of Autie, and when that happened, all my battles would be lost again. Autie rarely lost a battle—save that last big one—and his fights were always glorious, painted on a broad screen by the clamoring newsmen if not by himself. My battles were small and silent and private, but oh! they were important to me, and I had managed to hold the line. I would not see it all wiped away with the muckraking cry that Autie's overweening ambition had led him to disaster at Little Bighorn. I would make sure that the world saw the George Armstrong Custer I wanted seen. Only this private journal—to be burned upon my death—records my own wars.

Twelve years is not very long in a lifetime, yet it seemed my whole life was lived in those brief years of marriage. I had fought battles of my own, hard battles, to marry Autie, and once married, I thought myself the happiest and luckiest of women—married to the great boy-general, the hero of the Civil War. We would, I knew, grow old together, savoring the best of life, the last for which the first was made, so the poet wrote. I'm not sure when, exactly, that I knew that dream was not to be, that a love as intense as ours could not survive, that two people as willful as we could not be bound so tightly together. And yet, when all was said and done, I would not have traded those twelve years for anything on earth. Were they worth a lifetime? There is no answer, but even to think about it, I must begin earlier, back in Monroe.... I remember yet one snowy night when I was but sixteen years old.

 Libbie is available from Kindle at

http://www.amazon.com/Libbie-Historical-Western-Romance-ebook/dp/B007Q3EJ74/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1333417391&sr=1-3  and from Nook at

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1000340594?ean=2940014178730&itm=1&usri=judy+alter+libbie

I'm proud of these novels and the research that went into them. Hope you enjoy them. Tomorrow, more about Sundance, Butch and Me, the story of Etta Place's years with the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang. 

Who--or What--Are You? And Do You Re-Read Books/

We seem to be fascinated these days with classifying people--and heaven knows, there are any number of ways to classify them. Here are the classes into which I clearly fit: senior citizen, woman, liberal, Protestant. Therein if you're into statistics, you can tell a lot about me from how I'll vote in November to how I feel about Rush Limbaugh--don't ask.
But there are other, less clearly defined ways of looking at people, and some of them are amusing. There's been some buzz on the internet lately about introverts and extroverts--my daughter-in-law wrote about that on Raggedy Madness and announced she's an introvert though capable of being as social as the next one when the situation calls for it. I've read several pieces about this inborn disposition and have decided I'm an ambivert--dead square in the middle. My favorite place to be, admittedly, is at my desk in a quiet, empty house, probably with a dog asleep at my feet (ah, I'm in heaven right now for that's the situation). But give me, say, a week of evenings alone at my desk, and I am irritable, bored, lonely, cross--name a negative and I'll claim it. I love to have my house full of people, my favorites being of course my children and grandchildren. But there are a lot of friends I like to have come join me for supper, a visit, whatever. Fill my house with people--or take me whirling off to parties and dinner with friends and meetings--for five days, and I long for the solitude of my house and my office and the undemanding company of my dogs. I'm not happy for any length of time as an introvert or an extrovert, so I clearly define myself as an ambivert.
Yet another classification has come to my attention in the last couple of days. I've talked here before about authors who are plotters (everything carefully plotted out before they write that first sentence) and pantsers (those who write that first sentence, and let the muse loose to see where it will carry them). Now someone on a mystery listerv has raised the question of whether or not pantsers ever re-read books or watch a movie twice. I'm not sure I see the exact correlation but apparently the thought was that if you're a free enough spirit to be a pantser, you must be bored with planning and knowing ahead and you won't want to read a book twice. The theory is getting shot down because lots who consider themselves pantsers write about the books they read annually, or those they love to go back to occasionally. I've got to admit not only to being a pantser but to almost never re-reading a book. Nothing makes me more distressed than to come home from the bookstore (or download from Kindle now) in anticipation of an evening of cozy reading only to find after five pages I've already read the thing. One of the wonders of the Kindle program--and probably other digital programs--is that you can preview twenty pages of a book. If you don't know by then if you've read it, you might just as well give up and read it again.
What about you? Do you re-read books? Think it makes you an ambivert? 

The World is Closed

Again, and no hope for the next two days! I don't much mind being here by myself, but I don't like the feeling that I can't jump in the car and go if I want to. I try, with medium success, to tell myself that what will be will be, and if you can't go out, you can't. I think the streets are clearing up, at least the major ones, and I would be comfortable driving, but I'm cautious about walking across my porch even to empty trash. Today I had a couple of catastrophes: my washing machine won't work, and I suspect the pipes are frozen. I called for a repair appointment, but I think I'll wait and try it Sunday night, hoping to cancel the appointment. The machine is in an add-on part of the house and not the regular, well-insulated brick portion. Then the dog ate the pie crust for the chocolate cookie pie crust I was planning to fill. I gave him stern lectures, to no avail--when allowed back in the kitchen, he busily searched for crumbs my sweeping had missed. I posted this incident on Facebook and got lots of suggestions on how to handle dogs who ate chocolate, toxic to them. But he shows no signs of distress. And he's a dog who shows distress easily when he feels it. I started from scratch and remade the pie, so the crust will be better than the one I bought.
Tonight my young neighbor next door called just to chat. Being home with a three-year-old, she had cabin fever and wondered if I did. She had gotten out with her husband and said even a ride around the neighborhood would make a difference. We had a good long visit about a lot of things, and she says they'll come for a visit tomorrow. I have invited them, with three other young couples (including Jordan and Christian), for supper Saturday night, and she says they'll take me to the grocery if need be. It's supposed to snow Friday--snow, not ice--and be middling-to-pleasant Saturday, really defrost by Sunday and SuperBowl. I do feel sorry for the merchants and people of downtown Fort Worth who worked so hard to prepare for this week--and now nobody can get out and enjoy the fun.
I've made good use of my housebound time: I finished critiquing a manuscript I was reading in the Guppies critique program, where authors are matched with others and reach each other's manuscripts.I really liked the one I read, but I had lots of comments and suggestions. Critiquing it was a learning experience for me and made me aware of things I need to correct in my writing.
I also posted a short story on Kindle--"The Art of Candle Dipping" should be up in a couple of days. It's a story that has always made me choke up the few times I've read it aloud. Based on a true account in the files of Fort Worth's Log Cabin Village. I'm puzzled though as to how to price it at 99 cents--Amazon didn't seem inclined to let me price it below $2.99, which seems a bit high for one short story. I'll have to investigate that.

E-books--oh, my!

I've been working hard for two days to post Mattie on Kindle and Smashwords. Finally got it up on both, though don't go rushing there. I have to proof and okay. But today comes a letter from the reprint publisher of Mattie discussing reversion of rights, which I'd asked for, and saying they're considering making some backlist available as e-books and pod. Am I interested? Of course, it's easier for them to do it than me, but I've already done it. I replied to that effect, only to find out that I shouldn't have posted it without checking with them first. I thought, since I had rights from Doubleday, the original publisher, it was all ok. Not so. But the representative of Leisure Books was nice, said they wouldn't want to rob me of revenue (as if I'll make a fortune) and we'd cross the bridge of their rights if they decide to e-publish. Fine with me. They'd probaby format their version better than mine, but tonight I must begin to proofread all over again. I may put that off until tomorrow. This bright new technology isn't all that bright sometimes--formatting is hard.
And then once you get the digital books up, there's the problem of marketing. Watch for a link here to free samples soon (I hope) on my web page. Is all this hard work to build a career worth it at my age? Yeah, I think so.
Dishwasher is repaired, toilet fixed, and my back bettter--things are looking up. However, tonight I think I smell sewer gas in the house--not sure how to tell if it's a gas leak, but since I smell it mostly in the bathrooms, I suspect it has to do with the plumbing. Or my imagination. I'll ask my neighbor to give it a sniff test tomorrow.
Went to a Christmas Open House today with spectacular food--a whole salmon with andalouse sauce (mayonnaise with pimiento and maybe tomato puree--I didn't know either until I looked it up), wonderful cheddar and Maytag blue cheese with figs, dates, and dried apricots, green beans and asparagus with good sauces--I didn't even try the desserts. Oh, and a flaky phyllo thing that had sort of lemon-flavored goat cheese baked in it--tiny pastries. Sooo good. I think I was the only person there who was not a docent at the Amon Carter Museum but they were all so friendly (I guess docent training makes you outgoing). I especially enjoyed a visit with the Carter's librarian where we discussed everything from research and publishing to Kindle and e-books. A pleasant late afternoon event and nice to get home before dark.

A good day--and a salmon croquette recipe

Do you ever have a day that just feels good? I had one today and decided it was about  time. I've had a bad week--a sore back that really really hurt, a commode that had to be rebuilt, a dishwasher that needs a new part (very expensive, as in very very!). But today was good, and I'm not sure I can explain why. Monday when I looked at my calendar I realized I had nothing on it for today, and since I like to get out once a day, I called a friend and we decided on lunch. The only flaw in my day was that my friend had some not-good news from the doctor and cancelled lunch. But other than real concern for her, even the cancelled lunch didn't mar my day. I was deep into getting my novel Mattie ready to post on Kindle and now I've got it done, although it will be several days before it's up--don't worry, I'll trumpet! And I did some cooking planning and made a grocery list, the most immediate things being a batch of oatmeal/cranberry/white chocolate cookies and a black bean soup with feta and cilantro. If that doesn't tempt you, nothing will. I also corresponded with the editor about my Texas food book, and I think we've settled on separate books about three food groups--chili, Tex-Mex, and chicken-fried steak. I'm not sure there's a whole book, even small, to be written about the latter but I'll give it a shot. And the editor agreed that we have to include side dishes, so that gives me room to discuss some of the other companies I found, like O. B. Macaroni. I'm looking forward to starting this, after I finish a couple of things on my desk. But it was a good, productive day at my computer, and I didn't get cabin fever at all. Oh, and lunch? I made a sandwich of a leftover salmon croquette, one of my favorite sandwiches of all time. I had made the croquettes last night with that good salmon from Oregon.
Tonight Betty and I went to dinner. She wanted to try the Cowtown Diner. I was reluctant, thinking it was all steak, but not so. We split the meatloaf plate, with mashed potatoes and peas and carrots. Meatloaf came with nice gravy, and it was pretty good.
So now I'm back at my desk, going to figure out how to post Mattie to Smashwords. If I remember correctly, it's not as complicated as Kindle, so I think I'm doing well.
Want to make my salmon croquettes? Take a 7.5 oz. can salmon, drain and flake. Add one egg, a double pinch of instant tapioca (if you have it--it binds the ingredients), some Worcestershire and dry mustard, salt and pepper, diced onion, and enough ground saltines to hold it together. (My mom always said you can't use anything but saltines; I used some other crackers in my cupboard, but crackers are important--don't use mashed potatoes.) Shape into croquettes (or patties if you wish) and roll in more ground crackers. Saute at low heat--these burn quickly. Serve with lemon. The next day, make sandwiches with mayonnaise on the bread and extra lemon on the croquettes. One 7.5 oz. can makes four croquettes.

KIndle publishing, self publishing, promotion, memoirs--my brain is in a whirl

Spent much of the day studying various hints on promoting your e-books, formatting them to publish--did some investigation and found that Kinko's will scan existing books without damaging the spine for $1.00/page. Wonder if I'd ever make that much back if I posted one, short (182) word-book on Kindle and Smashwords. Also, everytime I see a new small press mentioned, I check out the web page--so many are interested in sci-fi, horror, vampires, etc. Doesn't seem to be many that want cozy mysteries, but I have starred a couple to query. Waiting on that until after Fred re-reads the manuscript. Meanwhile my desk is still loaded with tips for promotion and that book on how to build your platform. I'm only half way through the book--think what wondrous things I might do if I ever finish it! All of this takes most of the day--well, there was the grocery this morning, lunch with a friend, class tonight, and of course my nap. Point though is that I'm not anywhere near going back to concentrate on the novel in progress. I figure when I get back to writing it, I need to give it my full attention. I started to say I'll be grateful for the holidays--but what am I going to be on holiday from?
Holidays, however, do mean more of a disruption--I planned to bake all weekend, stocking my freezer for the holidays. Forgot, however, a nice dinner invitation for Friday night, a trip to Central Market on Saturday, a stop at Origins for cosmetics, and a 1:00 p.m. book signing with the contributors to Grace & Gumption. If you're in the area of the University Village Barnes & Noble, come on by. Grace & Gumption: The Cookbook is a wonderful mix of social history and recipes--some tempting, some not so. But should you want to stew a squirrel, this book tells you how. Great gift for women in Fort Worth.
My memoir class met tonight, and as always I'm enthralled. They are so open and honest about their lives. One class member, a minister, read us a eulogy she delivered for a very young woman--I don't know how she got through it without crying, but she says she tries to think of things that make her angry. If someone died of cancer, she thinks how much she hates cancer--when she's angry, she doesn't cry. Another described a year-long experience living in London in terms of the language difficulties and had us all laughing. Still another described a couple of heartbreaking incidents from her childhood. At the end we all stand in a circle and say how we're feeling--in one word. I couldn't help it: I had a sentence. I was feeling happy for the good things we heard tonight, but sad that there is so much unhappiness in the world. One more class, and then we'll have a reunion with previous class members.

One of those days

Since retiring I've fallen into the habit of sleeping until abut eight o'clock--I wake about seven and doze as long as the dog, cat, and my bladder will let me. It's a delicious time, and my thoughts wander all over the good things in my life and what plans I have for the day. But this morning, at 7:45, I was blasted out of bed--literally--by the boom of marching drums. They were coming from the schoolyard across the street, and I finally got myself together enough to go out, get the paper, and see what was going on. Crowds of people were gathering on the lawn, then a sheriff's car pulled up with lights flashing, and pretty soon an inflatable arch went up over the side street. I finally figured out it was a walkathon, fund-raiser for the school (probably when first awakened I'd have donated money to get them to stop the drums but once I was up and about, I sort of liked them). Of course, the dog and cat went crazy--the dog demanding to go out, the cat demanding to be fed, and me deciding going to the bathroom was my first priority. I finally got everyone settled down, fed, and where they belonged. When I left for the grocery store, there was a police car almost but not quite blocking my driveway. The woman driving it moved it a bit, but it was still tricky getting out of the driveway without scraping a police car--now that would have been a nightmare.
The day went that way--I got tangled in a bunch of e-mails, a long conversation with Jordan about Kindle--she was relaying everything I said to a colleague until I finally said I felt like I was talking to a parrot. Had a delightful lunch at Nonna Tata (country Italian) with Susan and Melinda, then back to the computer. I spent a lot of time creating an author page on Kindle, and it was three o'clock in the afternoon before I read the morning paper, usually the first thing I do in the morning.
The rest of the day went okay--a nap, a bike ride, feeding animals (again! with the cat it's a constant process!), dinner making salad out of leftover salmon from last night with an added bit of gravlax I had on hand (made an interesting salad). Tonight I posted my short story collection on Smashwords which puts things on all kinds of e-platforms. I know I did both that and Kindle without following format instructions, so they are in less than ideal shape, but they're up and running--my usual impatience with tech instructions.
Tonight I've had it. I'm doing something I never do--watching TV: Dateline, to be followed by a Food Network show featuring a local restaurant. Sometimes it's good to chill.

Three big accomplishments

Nothing makes me feel more deliciously self-indulgent than eating a whole lobster, but that's what Jeannie, Betty and I did tonight at Lucille's, a local restaurant that once a year sponsors Lobstrama for several weeks. A whole lobster is only $13.95, and we have it with the house salad which has a roquefort-vinaigrette dressing. Needless to say, I'm stuffed but happy. I've gotten pretty good at dealing with a whole lobster and extracting the meat, especially the claw meat that is so sweet and tender. Betty laughs that she always needs instuction, though she did well tonight, and Jeannie found meat in the body cavity where I never think to look--I was full by the time I got to that. Lovely evening, although the restaurant got so crowded it was hard for me to hear, in spite of the fact that the volume on my hearing aids has been re-set and turned up a lot.
But that was only my final accomplishment of the day. The first was  cleaning closets, a chore I hate and am fully capable of putting off for two years or more. But I got a notice that the ARC would be in my neighborhood tomorrow (Association for Retarded Citizens? Surely not. There must be a more pc name for it now, but they do help people with intellectual and developmental disabilities). It sparked my conscience. I kept the notice on my desk for a week or so, thinking surely I could come up with one bag. Today, with a/c repairmen putting the finishing touches on the duct work for my new furnace, seemed like a good time to clean closets, so I did. Got four bags, including one of shoes. I was ruthless--or pretty much so. There are some things I gave leniency to for another year, and in a couple of instances, I discarded the pants, skirt or jumper but kept the top. I even straightened the shoes that were strewn haphazardly on my closet floor, put them on the shoe rack, and swept the closet. Oh, the feeling of righteousness! Tomorrow I'll put the bags out with the appropriate sign.
Then this afternoon I spent about two hours posting my short story collection, Sue Ellen Learns to Dance and Other Stories, to Kindle. They really do make it simple, though I'm afraid my text came through with no paragraph indents. Stiill, I was enormously proud of myself for having accomplished this. I priced it at $2.99, the lowest price Kindle allows. I've heard that at that price you get a lot of sales. It wilil be two or three days before it shows up in the Kindle shop.
Why, then, with these accomplishments for the day, do I feel edgy? It's the lack of a next project, but I made a resolve today: I'll finish the draft of my work-in-progress, a cozy mystery, and then move on to a nonfiction project that's floating in my head since my agent mentioned a possible assignment. I hope I'll stick to that resolution. I also have to obtain e-book permission from previous publishers and send copies of the books to the agent. And I'm still waiting for an editorial opinion on the Texas food book. Yep, I'm not giving up on the career yet.

So much good--and a bit of sadness

Story Circle Network has named me a Star Blogger. They praised me for blogging about life stuff that comes my way in an in-the-moment style and said I'd given myself permission to stick a piece of tape across my editor-self's mouth and ramble from idea to idea. I think that means what I've always thought--my blog is disorganized, sort of stream of consciousness, the kind of fiction I don't like to read but maybe in a blog it's okay. I hope you all think so. I will eventually get a "badge" to put on my blog but in the meantime it was featured today in the national SCN newsletter that came in my email. SCN is an international network designed to encourage women to write about their lives--and it's the basis of the most rewarding course that I teach on Thursday nights on my front porch. Teach? Shoot, the women themselves teach it by sharing. Wonderful experience. Not sure if you can read the newsletter if you're not a member of SCN, but here's the URL: http://www.storycircle.org/eletters.shtml#national.
Today I was happily and busily working, mostly on compiling a file of my short storycollection so I could send it to my agent, Roger Williams of Publish or Perish, to put on Kindle. Now I'm proofreading it and finding mistakes I guess were in the printed version but I hope not. Sort of fun to read those stories again, because I still like them, egotistical though that sounds. I also sent off for printing the new stuff on my  Blue Plate Cafe mystery so I can give it to Fred Friday to read and a segment I wrote for class Thursday night on anxiety disorder. And spent a lot of time on emails--the Sisters in Crime  and Agent Quest lists are always much busier on Mondays, it seems. So even though my lunch pal got mixed up and forgot me, I had a really pleasant, busy day.
Tonight, I had dinner with good friends Kathie Allen and Carol Roark--we mostly talked about university presses (Kathie is senior editor at SMU Press, which is in a great deal of jeopardy, and we also talked about the new director of TCU Press and Carol is a frequent contributor to TCU Press, so it's an interest we all have in common). Then we talked Carol's trip to Portugal, aging parents, and other depressing topics, but we had a good visit. Ate at Piola, where we all had piccata--veal for Kathie and me, chicken for Carol--with asparagus risotto. Absolutely delicious. A pleasant evening. And it rained tonight and turned blessedly cool--when I went to water porch plants about 5:15, it was in the upper 70s and I wished I was cooking a porch dinner for the ladies.
The note of sadness: Megan had to put down her Tsi Shu--Jackson was I think sixteen or seventeen, but it seems like she's had him forever. He had gotten so his back legs wouldn't support him, and he'd fall, couldn't get up. But he was the sweetiest bad smelling dog I ever knew--he loved to be cuddled, but a day after he was bathed, he smelled bad again. Never did figure that out. But I knew the last few times that I saw him that he was pretty miserable, blind in one eye from poor vet care among other things. It's such a hard decision to make, but it's one I've made too many times in my life. My heart's with Meg tonight--but then it always is.

A really good dinner, if I do say so

Tonight friends Jean Walbridge and Jim Clark came for supper, and I made a recipe from the Star-Telegram series of burger recipes. I used to get great recipes from the newspaper until it cut back dramatically on its food section, so this was a special find. The recipe was for Japanese chicken burgers, which led Jean to say she'd never had a chicken burger. I have several other recipes for them, but this was really unusual and turned out to be terrific. Obviously I can't give the exact recipe for copyright reasons, but I'll say that the burgers had, along with ground chicken, grated fresh ginger (I thought that was going the extra mile--I needed two teaspoons but you can't find small pieces of ginger, so now I have a large piece left in the fridge), garlic and soy sauce. You pan fry them in vegetable oil and serve with cucumber-shallot pickles, made with picked ginger, rice vinegar (okay, I got home with rice wine instead of vinegar so used the chardonnay vinegar I had in the cupboard and will return the rice wine), sugar, water, peppercorns--an English (seedless) cucumber and a shallot. Great with the burger, but the cukes still tasted a lot to me like the ones my mom used to make in cider vinegr and water. The burgers were also served with wasabi mayonnaise--mayo mixed with wasabi powder, which turned out to be white (even though the powder was white I somehow expected it to magically turn green when I mixed it with the mayo; it didn't, so now I'm wondering why wasabi in sushi places is so green). Great combination of tastes. That, with some corn on the cob and a terrific salad Jean brought, was dinner--with hummus and pita chips for an appetizer. Okay, I was mixing cultures, but it worked. Also a good visit. Jim prowls through my books and ignores Jean and me, while we visit. I'm afraid someday he'll have run the gamut of my books--he likes illustrated books of the American West--and won't want to come to dinner any more! But a pleasant evening.
Nice email correspondence with my agent today, mostly about how to get my old books on Kindle, especially since I have no digital copy of the ones fro the '90s--who back then thought to save digital copies once the book was in print. He asked me for my last emails with the editors and again I said, "Duh. I don't have them." Clearly I've cleaned my mailbox out many times since then, and my files on those books have gone to the archive at the Southwest Writers Collection at Texas State University-San Marcos. I do have digital files of my short story collection and permission to turn them into ebooks from the publisher, so maybe that's the place to start. I hear if you sell books for 99 cents to $1.99 on Kindle, you get a lot of orders. What fun! My goal is to have all my older novels, about women of the American West, in Kindle format. Meantime, I'm working away on the new novel--and having fun with it.

Reply to an author

This post is mostly for Denise Weeks, who writes YA fantasy as Shalanna Collins but has at least one mystery, Murder by the Marfa Lights, under her real name. I mentioned last night I was reading the book, she found the blog and was ecstatic that someone was reading her book. She asked several questions and I know of no way to answer except on the blog. So yes, Denise, it's still holding my attention. I found it on the Kindle store when I was browsing the cozy mystery category, and I guess the idea of the Marfa lights, which have always intrigued me, plus my neighbors who talk about Marfa all the time drew me to order it. And, if I remember, the price was low. (I've read a lot on the Sisters in Crime listserv lately about how books priced really cheaply, like 99 cents, do so much better than even those $2.99 ones--volume vs. individual price, and volume wins!). Denise, I'm sorry you didn't spend more time in Marfa, but I'll ask my neighbors about authenticity anyway. Is it available any way except online?
If you were ecstatic to find someone reading your book, I was most pleased to find a new reader for my blog. Did you find the mention on Google Alerts? I find the Alerts service most interesting--some days it picks up my blog; other days, it "alerts" me to sales of my older titles. I'm investigating getting some of my '90s historical fiction up on Kindle. I think it's a great sales tool.
Other than reading Denise's book, I'm a drudge today. Spent the morning at the office but the server was having problems and for most of the morning I couldn't do what I came in to do. But we had a terrific meeeting with an author who is doing a book for 7th graders about the Texas Revolution. Susan, Melinda, and I were really enthusiastic about it. Then the server came back up, and I was able to send out the proposals I wanted to.
And tonight I've been working on taxes--categorizing the expenses from 2009. I can only take so much of that in a spell, so I have lots left to do, but I'm making a dent in it.
I did conquer techbnology today--with help. I now know how to find my VPN connection to TCU and have the link to my desktop installed. The link to my TCU email (instead of the web email I use at home) isn't quite working yet, but I can probably fix that tomorrow. And, wonder of wonders, all by myself, I finally got my cell phone to bring up my e-mail. For a non-techie like me, such small triumphs are really wonderful.
Still a busy week in which I have to get up early every morning--yawn!

Maybe the new year has begun

Still cold in North Texas--17 this morning, but I finally got brave, blocked the dog into his cozy bed, and ventured out. I really do okay in the cold--it's the dog I worry about. Don't want to leave him out, can't trust him alone in the house, but he seems to be okay if I put him in his bed and don't stay away too long. Went to the grocery and made a brief stop at the office. I came home to hibernate and suddenly was inspired by the Sisters in Crime listserv--those ladies, and a few men, constantly work at their careers, while I seem to sit and wait for something to happen. I realized I really have a lot to do and should stop sitting here reading mysteries, much as they relate to what I hope is my new career.
First decision: put my '90s historical fiction on KIndle. That's been a big topic on the listserv, and even if I doin't make any money, it seems to me it would be great for name recognition. I investigated a bit, wrote to my former agent to make sure rights have reverted, and then wrote my new agent. Lo, behold, and glory, he said he would take care of that as my agent. Not right away but in a few months (okay that made me a bit nervous!).
Second decision: I did the index recipe tonight for Grace & Gumption: The Cookbook. For those who don't know or remember, TCU Press did a book a couple of years ago titled Grace & Gumption: Stories of Fort Worth Women. Following it up with a cookbook was really my idea, because of my love of not only food but food writing, but it has been fun for all of us. I proofread the pages, then found out that wasn't one of my assigned chores--still my proofreading may help. But my job was to index the recipes, and tonight I've finished that, though I have to proofread. Then I'll make a list of cookbooks consulted, because there were a number of locally published cookbooks that ought to interest Fort Worth women. What really struck me was that when I categorized the recipes, the dessert section was twice as long as any other--what does that tell you about women? Actually, given my druthers in cooking, dessert is the last thing I make. I try to avoid them, am not creative about fixing them, and they never "look pretty" like the ones you see in magazines.
Third decision: I signed up for a class on Twitter. To me it is baffling, but maybe this class will help me make sense of it. It's supposed be a great tool for getting your name out there as an author. I do alright on Facebook though I'm mostly silently--some of my children are on it all the time with baffling messages that I can't understand at all--I've begun to think of some of my own family as aliens from another planet. And who needs to know every place they go all day? Now they've begun posting something from Gowalla and I have no idea what that is. I do strugglel hard to keep up and be computer literate, but it's hard.
Fourth decision: made a committment to do some volunteer work at the church on a weekly basis. Will call first time attendees and possibly take a weekly turn at the reception desk. I need to get back into the life of the church.
Tomorrow: staying home, keeping Scooby out of the cold, and starting to organize my tax info for 2009.
Whew! All this organikzed ambition has tired me out, and I'm going to read the Charlotte Hinger mystery I'm well into and hooked on.

Writing--and rewriting

It's wonderful to re-read something you've written and realize it doesn't sound like an idiot wrote it. I got a critique a couple of days ago on "The" mystery, Skeleton in a Dead Space, the one that was rejected, and it had most helpful suggestions. As I go into another round of querying I think I can really make it a stronger novel. (Okay, I already got a rejection on a query I sent last week, but I am determined not to be discouraged.) So tonight, having cleared my desk of everything else, I started to read the manuscript again. I'd forgotten that I'd re-written the first line, which now delights me. Here it is, and I would love to know if you'd read a novel that began this way:
"I am passionate about a few things--my daughters, old houses, the neighborhood I live and work in, white wine and chocolate. But certainly not skeletons." Would you read on?
In going through the manuscript, I've found just a couple of typos in 40 pages and haven't yet come to the parts that need strengthening. But I'm having fun reading it, which I think is a good sign.
I rescued my Kindle today from Autobahn Volkswagen, where they were all very puzzled about what a Kindle is. The service advisor who handed it to me asked if it was one of those things where you keep your calendar, and I thought it's large for that when you can do that on your phone. I tried to show him, but it was out of battery--and I'm going to keep it that way because I do more work when it's not beckoning to me.
Nice day--ran errands this morning, then Jean and I went to see Charles in Trinity Terrace where he is temporarily living and getting his strength back before movig to assisted living in East Texas. We had a great visit, and both Jean and I found him cheerful, funny, and looking good. I had leftover gorilla casserole for supper and sent some home with Jean. Still a whole bunch to go, but it's pretty good.

HIghs and Lows

This morning Sue drove me to Weatherford to do a half-hour radio program live on KXQY--if you knew in advance you could follow it on an internet connection, but I doubt few did that. But it was a high--I felt I did well, was casual, informative, talkative but not too much so. And I got in a plug for my blog. Sue, who sat and listened, said she thought it was fine. One of the things we talked about was improvising, cooking off the top of your head.
Well that was not exactly a low but not great either. Tonight I had a nice piece of wild-caught salmon, and I planned to follow a Rachel Ray thing I saw on TV--sauteed the salmon, though I didn't use the seafood seasoning she reccommended--just salt and pepper. She had covered her salmon with a green sauce but I didn't get the ingredients, so I made a sauce of cottage cheese, yogurt, one anchovy filet, basil, scallion, and just enough white wine to turn it liquid--good but not great. Then I topped it with a salad of cucumber, tomato, red onion, and shallot--no dressing. It was good. Just not one of my best. I accompanied it with tiny asparagus spears, just barely roasted. I offered one to Jacob but he said, "It's yucky." He's stuck on chicken nuggets.
Another high--I got a critique comment on my mystery, Skeleton in a Dead Space, and it really made sense. I'll get a print-out of the mss. on Monday and dig in. I'm excited about it.
Of course Jacob is a high--he walked in the door saying, "Juju, I love you!" How can you beat that? We had a lovely evening, though he requires increasingly more attention, wants your every minute. I barely got dinner cooked, cleaned up, and some basiic table setting done for tomorrow night. I read two books to him, cuddled (his idea of cuddling is for you to lie there while he bounces around the bed playing with toys and occasionally bangs into you with an elbow, his head, or his foot--I am battered by a three-year-old!)
A big low: I left my Kindle in the loaner car I turned in to Volkswagen yesterday. After many calls, they found it, but by that time it was too late to go get it (I have no car seat for Jacob). I'll get it Monday, which is already shaping up to be a busy day.
Meantime, I'm going to try to finish going once more through my friend's manuscript and cook a casserole that will feed 12 gorillas.

Out of charge and the Littlejohn book--which is fully charged and ready to go

This morning when I got to the doctor's office, my cell phone, my Kindle, and I all needed re-charging. I took the Kindle knowing I'd have time in the waiting room and exam room, and I really wanted to call my office to ask a favor. Couldn't do either, so I sat and had a lesson in patience--in the waiting room, in the exam room, at the pharmacy. That was the final blow--it was almost noon by the time I got to the pharmacy, and I was hungry as I sat in the drive-through pickup, which is never as fast as you think it's going to be. Finally this nice young man informed me that my insurance wouldn't cover it and did I want to pay $40.99? No, I didn't! Thoroughly frustrated, I went home, unpacked my groceries, ate lunch, and then headed back, with my insurance card in my hand. What I didn't realize was that when TCU changed pharmacy services, the new service covers all pharmacy transactions not just mail-in orders. So it was all straightened out fairly quickly, and I headed home with my antibiotics by 1:30. But I worked, some office, some my own, until 4 p.m.--a really late nap, from which I didn't want to get up. But there's that interior clock in me--it was time for the news, time to feed Scooby, etc. Made myself pea salad and salmon croquettes (one of my absolute favorite things) for supper.
Tonight is a huge reception for the lead title of our TCU Press fall list, Calvin Littlejohn: Portrait of a Community in Black and White by Bob Ray Sanders. Littlejohn was the only photographer for the black community for many years, most of the twentieth century--he took photos at schools (we have a school picture of Bob Ray in maybe third grade that Littlejohn took), churches, weddings, funerals, family gatherings, ceremonial occasions. He also took studio portraits and, best of all, pictures of any celebrity who visited Fort Worth. There are pictures of Harry S. Truman, Lyndon B. Johnson, a young George W. Bush looking bewildered, and of many black athletes and musicians. Maybe the prize is the one of Martin Luther King, Jr., sitting in a parlor with a group of women. Bob Ray, a Fort Worth Star-Telegram columnist and well known in any community in Fort Worth, did an incredible job of tracking down people and getting specific identities of many of the photographic subjects.
So tonight they expect 300 people at the Ella May Shamblee Library for a reception/book signing. Nice note: Bob Ray's niece, Brenda Sanders-Wise, is catering (he is the youngest of 12 and has nieces and nephews who are older than he is--I thought for a long time Brenda was one of his sisters, but not so). Brenda submitted such a yummy menu that I asked Melinda if she wasn't going to bring me a doggy bag. The doctor supported my instinct that I shouldn't go--don't need to expose everyone to my germs, and I still don't have the energy. So, following orders to lie low for three or four days, I'm at home but I'll be anxious for a report tomorrow.
This book is a fitting cap to my publishing career. I wanted to publish Littlejohn's work ever since the 1980s, but there were problems getting permission. Finally, the family gave the photographs, or most of them, to the Dolph Briscoe Center for American History at the University of Texas at Austin. I was able to work with Director Don Carlton to cooperate on the publication. It's truly a book to be proud of--beautifully designed and printed--and I'm delighted to view it as my swan song.
Meanwhile I'm not all that unhappy to be comfortably at home in sloppy clothes, with a bit of work to do and a book to read, but I do feel a bit bad over missing the moment of triumph.

Neighbors

Sue's nice blog about me on "Replete Life" last night made me think I ought to write about neighbors, because I am so lucky to have good ones. I've lived in this house 15 or 16 years. When I first moved in the house to the west of me was occupied by an eccentric and lonely old man, but the previous owners of my house gave me to undertand that if I reached out to him, he would be mine to raise. So I was never as charitable as my instinct would have me be, but I found it true. Once when he was mugged, I went to the corner to see what happened, saw him standing, talking to the ambulance and police people, and went back home. Next day, he was on my porch, saying he wanted to tell me all about it, it was a long story. "Could you give me the short version?" I stammered. I once asked him to throw my paper on the porch when I was out of town and thereafter he threw it every day, often hitting and demolishing the plants in my pots and planter boxes. When he died, Susan and Jay bought the house--the first time I saw Jay in a stained T-shirt I asked if he was my new neighbor's contractor, and he said, "I am your new neighbor." Oops! They have become such good friends, and both are good about looking after me. Jay does small household chores, like changing lightbulbs I can't reach--once when he came to do that, Jordan said, "Oh, here comes the handyman!"

On the other side, when I moved in, the owners lived there with small children who used to stand in our shared driveways (right by my bedroom) at 6 a.m. on Saturdays and scream, "Daddy, Daddy!" They moved out and rented to a 30-40-ish couple who had two dogs; one, Grant, part wolf, used to howl all the time, and I would rise out of bed saying "Grant, G--dammit!" until my kids laughed and said that was his name. The next tenants were a woman who never ever came out of the house--I suspected she had anxiety problems and wanted to offer to help, but they were so unsociable that I put that thought aside. He had a homemade-looking camper from which he sold golf balls. As one friend said to me, "But, Judy, what's in the golf balls?" And the first time Jamie saw the camper in the driveway, he said, "Oh, Mom, I am so sorry!" The man's worst habit was that he would get a fast-food drink and when he got home just throw the paper cup in the bushes. They also let their recycling bin overflow, so the driveway looked awful. Megan said, "Mom, you don't have to live that way," so I called the landlord and complained. Then came three series of college students--some noisy, some considerate, some very friendly. I did call the police one weeknight when they had a big party in the backyard and started karioke at 11 p.m. I didn't want to get them in trouble--I just wanted them to be quiet. I wasn't the only one who called.

Then my neighbor across the street told me a divorced mother with two young children was moving in. I groaned, thinking of noisy children, but Alex and Hunter are a delight. They were soon in and out of my house, especially when my Frisco granddaughters were here, and were very familiar with my refrigerator. To this day, they call me Juju as my grandchildren do. And Sue, their mother, is a true delight and a good friend--we drink a lot of wine and talk about life, men (she's more interested than I am), books, and food on long summer evenings.

And the four of us--me, Jay, Susan, and Sue--have become like a small social unit, often sharing drinks or dinner, though almost always on my porch. It is so wonderful to have good neighbors and to know that I can count on them in times of trouble. I am blessed.

A problem with Kindle: the last two books I posted abut, The School of Essential Ingredients and Justice at Guantanamo, turned out to be ones I want in m private library. I asked Megan for Kristine's book for my birthday and ordered a used copy of the other "in new condition."

And a problem with Weight Watchers: the last two days, in spite of having done so well last week, I have really cut into my bonus points, though I would tell you I ate lightly. A veggie sandwich at lunch today did me in because it had cheese and avocado, even though I didn't eat the bread; tuna nicoise tonight was also more points than I needed, and when I added a couple of glasses of wine, there I was over my limit. My most low-point meal: smoked salmon, hearts of palm, grape tomatoes, and either raspberries or blueberries. But that can get monotonous. Who would ever thought I'd get tired of smoked salmon?