Blogging to figure things out

Someone asked me once why I blog, and I answered that it made me write something almost every day (except that I haven't posted in two days). But I think that's the truth of it, but I also think I have always figured things out in writing. It used to drive my ex-husband crazy that I didn't argue--I wrote notes. I figured he could yell louder than I could, and arguing was futile.
So today I'm trying to figure out revision of my mystery. The rejection mentioned earlier said a real estate agent had no spark, no appeal. So I rewrote my query letter and really punched it up, making Kelly, my protagonist, a character who stumbles over skeletons and bodies, serial killers and cold-blooded murderers. A TCU Press author who reads the blog sent an opening sentence from El Paso that sounds pretty good: Kelly Jones always thought real estate was pretty safe until . . . So having rewritten the query, I set about "punching up" the manuscript itself, adding more free-spiritedness to Kelly. But as I tried to do that, I found I really like Kelly the way she is. She's realistic about who she is and who she isn't and she can be clever, but she's not a rebel against society--she has those two daughters to whom she's devoted. In short, she's a real person in my mind--she has taken on life. A lot of the advice I got from Sister in Crime sisters over this had to do with what write you want and believe in, and so though I'll continue through the first manuscript and then start querying again, I doubt I'll change much. I did work in a craving on Kelly's part for chocolate bars with ground peanuts and jalopenos--my current chocolate addiction. And I think I might work in Fort Worth's "Cowtown" image in the public and its contrast to ordinary life in our neighborhoods. But I don't think I'll change much. If, praise be, an editor gets hold of it someday and wants changes, that's another matter. Meantime I'm confident about what I've written.
There was a huge private signing party for one of our authors last night. The book, Dancing Naked: Unforgettable Encounters with Memorable Texans, is a collection of columns the author, Mary Rogers, published in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram over a period of years. There were well over 200 people at the reception, and our bookstore sold 176 books--terrific for one evening. My job was to ask people to write on post-its how they wanted the book personalized, and several said, 'Oh, Mary knows me." I tried to explain that in a long signing line, an author can forget her own children's names. Worked most of the time but Mary confessed she was stymied by one person, and her brain only kicked in at the last second. The hostess created a lovely affair with elegant, low-key refreshments--I was fascinated by how many people chose lemonade over wine. All in all, it was elegant and fun.
The food part of my blog tonight even involves some figuring out: I have been craving things that aren't good for you lately. No more the lean piece of meat and the green vegetable. Today I had two Hebrew National hot dogs with kraut for lunch, and though I was tempted by the idea of a baked potato topped with chili, cheese, and sour cream for dinner, I refrained in favor of pan frying some Dover sole I had in the freezer and topping it with lemon butter sauce. I've finally learned to cook it at medium and not hot, and it came out browned nicely, just a tad crunchy. When I defrosted it I thought it smelled fishy even though it was vacuum packed, but it tasted great. I baked a half tomato topped with bread crumbs and blue cheese and steamed some green beans. I steamed a whole mess of beans earlier this week but not long enough--they were really al dente, more than is pleasant. Better tonight. I have a mystery in my kitchen--I've lost the top to the steamer I've had for 30 years or more. I used it earlier in the week, put all the parts of the steamer in the drain basket but I cannot find the lid anywhere. I keep thinking it will show up in some weird place, but I've looked all the weird places I can think of and so far no luck.
The report from Houston is that Colin and Lisa are okay, managing with a smile, but they still have no power. They are supposedly on the list to have power by Monday which Colin hopes means any time between now and then. Tomorrow they'll take the kids to Lisa's parents, who have power, and go to dinner with friends in the part of town where things are more back to normal. I admire thier good spirits during all this. Was trying to think the longest I was out of power, and I think it was four days. You do kind of sink into an unpleasant routine, but it's sure magic when the lights come on. Lisa keeps repeating though that they are so blessed when so many lost so much and they are relatively unscathed--just inconvenienced. Colin said it's hard to make coffee on the grill in the dark with a flashlight and frustrating to get up in the middle of the night to put more gas in the generator.
Not much political comment except that I am astounded to hear McCain try to blame Obama for the financial crash--McCain has taken three times the money from Freddie and Fannie than Obama. And I'm further asotunded at a poll that says 59% of Americans believe Sarah Palin is qualified to be vice president. My goodness, are their heads in the sand?

A beautiful but disturbing day, sad news, and the mystery of writing mysteries

The weather in North Texas remains wonderful--downright cool when I poked my head out for the paper this morning and plesant all day, with a breeze. I haven't heard my air conditioner kick on, and with the windows open, the house feels much fresher. Hard to explain the difference, but it's there. Still on a beautiful day, much of the news is bad. As more and more reports come in about the damage from Hurricane Ike, it's hard to take in the magnitude of the destruction and of the recovery that will take at least a year. Colin and his family say they're doing fine, coping from day to day and hoping for power in the next few days. I know if the family did a heave-to, rented a U-Haul, took gas, ice, and a larger generator down there, the power would come on as we drove in the driveway. So we wait . . . and I worry, though three-year-old Morgan said tonight, "We're fine, Juju." And then there's the financial news from Wall Street. Admittedly, I don't understand the country's finances--I don't understand where a country with the horrendous debt we have gets the money for such massive bail-outs. And Senator McCain has admitted that he hasn't paid much attention to the economy. Between that and Governor Palin, I wish someone could tell me why he's running so strongly. I read one article today suggesting it's Palin's designer eyeglasses--is that how dumb this country has become?
A disturbing phone message tonight from the husband of a high school friend. When we finally connected by phone tonight, I was right--he was not a bearer of good tidings. Bernice died Thursday, and Alan was uncertain who to call, kept forgetting, but said today he was looking at wedding pictures and thought of course he must call me. I knew Bernice had breast cancer for four years but we only kept in touch at Christmas, and I didn't realize it had gotten critical. Makes me sad on lots of fronts, but it also calls back good memories and funny ones--Alan and I talked about some of those memories and then I had an email from their daughter--I replied with thanks and a recounting of a teen-age escapade that got us in trouble. I guess you think people from your young years will always be there, and of course that's not true. But Bernice is one of the major memories of my high school years in Chicago and the years after when we crossed paths occasionally. She was straightforward, adventuresome, and always fun.
And then there's the mystery of writing mysteries. I've thought long and hard about this. I read several mystery-related blogs and listservs and it has struck me that I may simply not be devoted enough. I read a blog of advice to newcomers to publishing (I don't consider myself one but I can always learn and the game changes constantly) where the blogger maintains about twelve internet "billboards" as he calls them--Twitter, mySpace, Facebook, several personal blogs, etc. When does he have time to do anything but tend to those? Then the listserv about seeking an agent makes the querying process sound intense and full-time. When to these people--mostly women--write? I realize I love writing, but I have a lot of other things in my life--family, friends, cooking, my job, reading books I enjoy, reading recipe magazines, doing my yoga. I'm not willing to give up all aspects of my life for my writing--and maybe that's what it takes in today's marketig-intensive world. But then I read other mystery-related blogs that talk about bad hair days or a fondness for picnics or some other everyday topic with which I can identify and I think, "Okay, maybe I can do both." Right now I can't decide whether to keep going through the second novel or turn some intense attention to querying and placing the first novel. Hah! As if I know how to do that. But I think that's where I'll turn my efforts tonight. It's a puzzlement.