tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64040361701060013742024-03-18T04:40:45.227-05:00Murderous MusingsWhere writers of mysterious books muse about murder and mayhem and all kinds of stuff. Blogsters include Ben Small, Beth Terrell (a.k.a. Jaden E. Terrell), Bill Kirton, Carola Dunn, Chester Campbell, Earl Staggs, Jean Henry Mead, June Shaw, Mark Danielson, Susan Santangelo and Mike Befeler.Chester Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07155257451021065218noreply@blogger.comBlogger1645125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-64649296209027362812018-11-13T15:00:00.000-06:002018-11-13T15:00:01.616-06:00A Long Look Into The Past<br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">It hardly seems like
fourteen years ago, but it became what I'd chalk up as a most unforgettable
venture. Here, slightly edited, is how I described it in a piece I wrote a few years later:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Back in
September of 2004, my wife, Sarah, and I undertook our most ambitious book
signing tour, a five-day gig in </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Orange County</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">, </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">California</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">. We did all our travels by car, so
we made a two-week trip out of this one. Sharing the driving time kept a
fairly fresh pair of hands on the wheel.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">While
cleaning up my desk the other day, I came across a small note pad with a few
scrawled pages of cryptic notes jotted down during that trip. It’s interesting
to see what random thoughts I chronicled from all we saw in traveling most of
I-40 from </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Nashville</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">, </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Tennessee</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> to its end at </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Barstow</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">, </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">California</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">. The pages only covered the trip
out. We did our sightseeing on the way back, including a visit to the </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Grand Canyon</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">According
to my little book, we departed </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Nashville</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> at </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">7:20 a.m.</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> on Monday, Sept. 13. My first
entry showed “cappuccino in </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Jackson</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">,” which put us well into </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">West Tennessee</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">. I might add that we became
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">I noted</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">construction as we neared the I-40 bridge across the </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Mississippi</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">. And the rain doused us with
bucketsful as we trekked across </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Arkansas</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">. However, I noted the temperature
in </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Little
Rock</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> was a steamy 94 degrees. We stopped there for lunch at the Cracker Barrel. We made a habit of eating at Cracker Barrel. You knew what to expect
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">As the
weather improved, we zipped across </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Arkansas</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> and kept pressing on until it got
dark on us at </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Shawnee</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">, </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Oklahoma</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">. We picked out a likely looking
Best Western not far off I-40 and checked in. Bummer. The restaurant was closed
and the pool shut down by order of the Health Department. We were too bushed to
look for another place so settled into the third room they gave us (the first
had no a/c, the second door wouldn’t open). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Tuesday
dawned with a welcome red ball in the sky. After we crossed into </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Texas</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">, my notes mention “buttes, maize,
cattle.” I was also impressed by the colorful lights on the </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Texas</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> troopers’ cars. Happily, they
didn’t flash them for us. The </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">New Mexico</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> border brought a mention of the
state’s </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">75 mph</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> speed limit. Another salient (not
the word Sarah used) feature was the rustic rest rooms at their rest areas.</span></span></div>
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farther west we traveled, the higher the elevation. I noted the landscape
consisted of “high plains with zilch,” indicating little of descriptive value
as far as I could see. We cruised through </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Albuquerque</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">, where the
colorful Spanish architecture impressed me . As the sun dropped lower, we found ourselves
nearly blinded by that unyielding glow on the horizon. We stopped for the night
at Grants, </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">6,466 feet</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> up, a little shy of the
Continental Divide. My notes say we ate at the 4B’s Restaurant, although it
wasn’t memorable enough that I recall anything about it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Since we
had left </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Tennessee</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> and were heading for </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">California</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">, we came dressed for summer
weather. The lofty altitude left us shivering when we stepped out of the room
Wednesday morning. We also discovered that the price of gas kept going up as we
traveled farther west. My notes show $1.79, which doesn’t sound bad today.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Arizona</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> brought more high plains and lots
of rock. The different colors in the rock and the way they seemed piled about in places proved </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">most noticeable</span>. We stopped briefly in </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Flagstaff</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> to check out the </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Grand Canyon</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> tours for the following week,
then began the downhill trek toward the </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">California</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> border. We found it a desolate area,
with a 50-mile stretch between Seligman and U.S. 93 that was packed with
absolutely nothing.</span></span></div>
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crossed the border into the </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Golden</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">State</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> and stopped at Needles for the
night. I had made a reservation at a motel there, but when we arrived they
informed us the air conditioning was out. We said no thanks and went across the
street to a nice Motel 6, where they had left the light on for us.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">My final
scribblings on Thursday indicate “</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Barstow</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> 40 ends, the LA experience
begins—more lanes, more traffic.” For some reason I failed to make note of the
long stretch through the </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Mojave Desert</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> before we reached </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Barstow</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">. It was somewhat reminiscent of
the landscape I experienced on a trip to the </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Holy Land</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> a few years earlier.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gRwGMEfRWkY/ShK_2IjCqxI/AAAAAAAAAXI/P4o82HG1bp4/s1600/KShephard.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" class="CSS_LIGHTBOX_SCALED_IMAGE_IMG" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gRwGMEfRWkY/ShK_2IjCqxI/AAAAAAAAAXI/P4o82HG1bp4/s1600/KShephard.JPG" style="height: 281px; width: 300px;" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">My
penultimate note indicates the freeways appeared not as bad as </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Atlanta</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">, “just more of ‘em.” The final
entry says only “Katherine’s tour.” But it was one of the highlights of the
trip. Dear author friend Katherine Shephard took us on a tour of </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Orange</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">County</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> the day after we arrived. Kathy
had a personality I can only describe as bubbling with enthusiasm and, as
someone else said, a zest for life. She was a most gracious hostess. She had
things to do but took time to drop by my signing at Barnes & Noble, where
this photo was made. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Kathy was
the one who had given me the contact that got the B&N signing. Sadly, about
the time we were there, she was diagnosed with the cancer that took her life
after a long and valiant struggle. But her hospitality was one of the
highlights of our tour, which included an appearance at the annual Men of
Mystery event in </span><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Irvine, California</span><span style="font-size: 15pt;"> and signings at three Borders
stores.</span></span></div>
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</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span>Chester Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07155257451021065218noreply@blogger.com95tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-77530651452529073992017-03-26T16:00:00.000-05:002017-03-26T16:00:00.482-05:00Writing FastBy June Shaw<br />
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I had never written a novel in less than a year--until recently.<br />
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The first book I wrote took two or three years, and it collects dust. It was fun. It was exciting. It was awful. It went on and on, and I was having a good time getting it down because I had wanted to do such a thing for so long. Then I discovered most books shouldn't be much longer than 100 pages unless the author was well-known or the book fit into a certain kind of genre, but it wasn't the genre I was writing.<br />
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Each book I sold in my first cozy mystery series took about a year to write, and that time frame let me write and exchange manuscripts with my critique group and revise a couple of times before I sent them in. Here is the first one--Relative Danger.<br />
https://www.amazon.com/RELATIVE-DANGER-Cealie-Gunther-mysteries-ebook/dp/B003YJEWNK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1490560419&sr=8-1&keywords=Relative+danger<br />
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Now I'm writing a cozy mystery series for a different publisher, and they want the books faster. They want one turned in every six months. At first I thought I couldn't do it, but then I sat, knowing I needed to do and many authors write two or three or even more books a year.<br />
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My first book in that series came out last month. The second will be published in August, and last week I finished the first draft of the third one. <br />
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Wow, how productive this publisher has made me. Thank you.<br />
<br />
Many positive reviews tell me A Fatal Romance came out very well:<br />
https://www.amazon.com/Fatal-Romance-Twin-Sisters-Mystery-ebook/dp/B01F0YVQEE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1490560830&sr=8-1&keywords=a+fatal+romance<br />
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<br />June Shawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11634658458716422436noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-28712409074829890422017-03-15T20:44:00.002-05:002017-03-15T20:49:11.943-05:00John Lindermuth's New Novel<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SPGKNkfaEG8/WMWuwwpJCDI/AAAAAAAAHw4/6Ac_2EBfXr0dyvwHJkb8pcNJ3dzdGyP5gCLcB/s1600/000_Untitled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SPGKNkfaEG8/WMWuwwpJCDI/AAAAAAAAHw4/6Ac_2EBfXr0dyvwHJkb8pcNJ3dzdGyP5gCLcB/s1600/000_Untitled.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I've always been interested in history and few eras are more interesting than that of our American West. I'm also intrigued by mystery. So what could be better than combining the two?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As trappers, gold-hunters and settlers expanded into the West they ran head on into people they often regarded as less than human but who had cultures as diverse as their own. When conquered, these people were forced onto reservations where it was hoped they might be controlled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Like most other reservations in the United States, San Carlos in Arizona was established by politicians ignorant of native cultures and relationships. The process forced both friends and enemies to live cheek by jowl in a harsh environment made worse by cheating agents and abusive soldiers while constantly being spied upon by tribal police and scouts who assisted the Army in hunting down renegades.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The conquered Yavapai and Tonto bands of the Apache people, formerly hunter/gatherers, turned to farming and were becoming near self-sufficient on their first reservation on the Verde River. This didn't sit well with contractors who profited from supplying the reservation. Orders came down for the Army to march these Indians 180 miles on foot to San Carlos in mid-winter, a move General George Crook called "cruel and greedy, the foulest blot in Indian history."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">John Clum, who had been appointed agent in 1874 (after twice turning down the job), appears to have been a decent man who attempted to treat the people fairly and gave leaders more autonomy than they'd had under other administrators. He embarrassed and inspired the wrath of the Army when he and a small group of scouts brought in Geronimo and his band to San Carlos in 1877 without a single shot being fired</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Despite Clum's best efforts, San Carlos was bleak, rations were short, there was animosity between the various bands and disease afflicted the people. No wonder then that many chose to break out, seek freedom in the mountains and over the border in Mexico.</span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 27.6000003814697px;">This is the background for <i>Geronimo Must Die</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My protagonist is Mickey Free, based on an actual scout who served as a translator under Al Sieber in the Yavapai/Tonto campaign and then at San Carlos. His mother was Mexican, but his father has not been definitely identified. As a boy, Mickey was kidnapped by Pinal Apaches and an Army officer blamed it on the Chiricahua, igniting a decade-long war. Mickey was adopted by Nayundii, a White Mountain Apache, and he and his foster brother John Rope both joined Sieber's scouts.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As Mickey says in the book: "History's like an old mirror, distorted, smudged and fly-speckled. It don't always reflect things the way they are." This gave me the liberty to play with fact and fictionalize to suit my story.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There's a plot to kill tribal leaders in the hope Apaches can be convinced to leave the reservation in a great runaway. Sieber suspects Geronimo is behind it. But when Geronimo himself becomes a target of the sniper it falls upon Mickey to save him and discover who is behind the plot.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I love research and fortunately there are a ton of books, government reports and other sources for information on the period and the people involved. Incidentally, the San Carlos reservation stills exists. Despite formation of a Chamber of Commerce, a casino, a language preservation program and other efforts by the people, it is one of the poorest Native American communities in the</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">U.S.</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 27.6000003814697px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; line-height: 27.6000003814697px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Here's a blurb for <u>Geronimo Must Die</u>:</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 27.6000003814697px;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 27.6000003814697px;">Geronimo and rascally half-breed Indian scout Mickey Free have never been friends.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-siO1cEsOZb4/WMWxHHZn_iI/AAAAAAAAHxE/VoZwIN4PQ44ueYqbWUT1sWgdkYHwdlfDgCLcB/s1600/GeronimoMustDie-LindermuthWeb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline; float: right; font-family: 'times new roman', serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 27.6000003814697px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-siO1cEsOZb4/WMWxHHZn_iI/AAAAAAAAHxE/VoZwIN4PQ44ueYqbWUT1sWgdkYHwdlfDgCLcB/s320/GeronimoMustDie-LindermuthWeb.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yet, Mickey has already saved Geronimo's life twice (without acknowledgement) and is the only one who can keep the great Apache leader out of the sniper's sights now. The sniper has already murdered several tribal leaders and Mickey believes it's all a plot to prompt a great runaway from the hated San Carlos reservation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Mickey's efforts are stymied by Al Sieber, head of scouts, and John Clum, reservation agent, as well as suspicion of other Indians. Adding to his problems, Mickey is in love with a girl whose name he keeps forgetting to ask and who may be allied to the plot.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Only perseverance, risk to his life and, eventually, Geronimo's help will enable Mickey to resolve this dangerous situation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>Geronimo Must Die</i> will be published March 28 by Sundown Press.</span></span></div>
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<div style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A retired newspaper editor, J. R. Lindermuth lives and writes in a house built by a man who rode with Buffalo Bill--which may have helped inspire his interest in the West. His 15 published novels are a mix of mystery and historical fiction. Since retiring, he's served as librarian for his county historical society, assisting patrons with genealogy and research. He is a member of International Thriller Writers and a past vice president of the Short Mystery Fiction Society.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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Jean Henry Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08146960738692672013noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-4087519041897636752017-01-28T01:00:00.000-06:002017-01-28T11:07:32.468-06:00New Mystery Series by June Shaw<br />
<br />
I am so excited to announce that Kensington's Lyrical Press has just published A FATAL ROMANCE, the first book in my new Twin Sisters Mysteries!<br />
<br />
This series is set in a place I live in and love--South Louisiana's bayou country. The second book, DEAD ON THE BAYOU, is scheduled to come out in August--and I'm writing like crazy on the third, SAVING MOM. (The twins' mother lives in a retirement home.)<br />
<br />
Writing these books is fun and difficult and so rewarding once they're done. Here's the opening of A FATAL ROMANCE: <br />
I stood in a rear pew as a petite
woman in red stepped into the church carrying an urn and stumbled. She fell
forward. Her urn bounced. Its top popped open, and ashes flew. A man’s remains
were escaping. <br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Oh no!” people
cried. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Jingle bells,” I hummed
and tried to control my disorder but could not. Words from the song spewed
from my mouth. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Not now,” my twin
Eve said at my ear while ashes sprinkled around us like falling gray snow. She
pointed to my jacket’s sleeve and open pocket. “Uh-oh. Parts of him fell in
there.” </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I saw a few drops
like dust on the sleeve and jerked my pocket wider open. Powdery bits lay
across the tissue I’d blotted my beige lipstick with right before coming inside
St. Gertrude’s. “I think that’s tissue residue,” I said, wanting to convince
myself. I grabbed the pocket to turn it inside out. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Don’t dump that.”
Eve shoved on my pocket. “It might be his leg. Or bits of his private parts.” </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Here Comes Santa
Claus,” I sang. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
She slapped a hand
over my mouth. “Hush, Sunny.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The dead man’s
wife shoved up from her stomach to her knees, head spinning toward me like
whiplash. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Sorry,” Eve told
her. “My sister can’t help it.” </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Beyond the wife, a
sixtyish priest and younger one and other people appeared squeamish scooping
coarse ashes off seats of the rough-hewn pews. An older version of the wife
used a broom and dustpan to sweep ash from the floor. People dumped their
findings back into the urn. Other mourners scooted from the church through side
doors. A boiled crayfish scent teased my nostrils. Someone must have peeled a
few crustaceans for a breakfast omelet and didn’t soap her hands well enough. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ashes scattered
along the worn green carpet like a seed trail to entice birds.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Look, there’s
more of him. I’ll go find a vacuum,” I said.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The widow faced
me. “No! Get out.” </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“But she’s my
sister,” my twin said. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“As if I can’t
tell. You leave with her. Go away.” The petite woman wobbled on shiny
stilettos, aiming a finger toward the front door.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I sympathized with
her before this minute. Now she was ticking me off. I’d been kicked out of
places before but never a funeral. “I didn’t really know your husband, but Eve
did. I stopped to see if she wanted to go out for lunch, and she asked me to
come here first. She said y’all were nice people.”<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“We are!” The
roots of the wife’s pecan-brown hair were black, I saw, standing toe to toe
with her, although my toes were much bigger inside my size ten pumps. I was
five eight and a half. She was barely five feet. Five feisty feet. “But you’re not
going to suck up parts of my husband’s body in a vacuum bag.” She whipped her
pointed finger toward me like a weapon. “And you need to stop singing.”</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I wanted to stop
but imagined parts of the man that might be sucked into a vacuum cleaner and
ripped out a loud chorus, my face burning. Nearby mourners appeared shocked.
Mouths dropped open. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“You don’t know my
sister,” Eve told the little woman who’d just lost a spouse. Actually, lost him
twice. “Sunny can’t help singing when she’s afraid. And that includes anything
dealing with sex, courtesy of her ex-husband.” </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“What does sex
have to do with Zane?” The wife’s cheeks flamed. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Should I tell her
about his privates possibly being in my pocket? Second thoughts said not to.
“Who knows? But you don’t need to worry. I certainly wasn’t having an affair
with your husband,” I said, quieting my song to a hum. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Just the thought
of sex makes her sing,” my sister explained. “Maybe it’s a good thing she
doesn’t think of it often.”.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The widow shook
her finger. “Zane was always faithful to me.” </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“I’m sure he was,”
I said, working to get my singing instincts under control. Nodding toward the
carpet, I spoke without a hint of a tune. “I’d really like to help you get
those pieces of him out of the rug. If we can just find an empty vacuum bag,
I’ll—”.</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Go! Get away!” </div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>www.juneshaw.com http://amzn.to/2k1GBys<br />
<br />June Shawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11634658458716422436noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-32559382743560551382017-01-26T00:00:00.000-06:002017-01-26T00:00:24.530-06:00OLD IS COOL AND SO IS WRITING!
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">by Jackie King</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">I’m a writer, so I
write. Sometimes I have to write what’s foremost on my mind. Today that happens
to be writing as I grow older. If you’re a writer, everything is
connected with your writing. And no matter what your age is today, one day you
too, will be old. So this morning, instead of trudging ahead on my latest
Work-in-Progress, I’m talking about my Life-in-Progress.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Arranging your life
successfully as you age isn’t as easy as it looks. And I’m one of the lucky
ones. I have two daughters in the area who are both willing to help. The
problem is, I don’t want to be a pain in their backside. I must say that hard
as I’ve tried, I have complicated both of their lives. But I make a discernable
effort to minimize their problems.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Years ago I vowed that I
wouldn’t unnecessarily cause my children pain. I won’t go into the history of
why, just that this was my goal for dealing with adult children. Did I
always accomplish this? Of course not. But with all honesty, I can honestly say that I’ve tried.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Here was my game plan
when I hit about 75: Since I’m single, I sold my four-bedroom house and
downsized to fit into a three-room apartment in a complex for seniors. My
daughters helped me, but the decision was mine. Here are my self-imposed ground-rules:</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">The “treasures” that I
spent a lifetime collecting are just “stuff.” Look at the need to shed them as
a relief, not a tragedy.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">No “meltdowns” allowed.
(I had one rather serve collapse right after I moved. Luckily my youngest daughter
was with me, and she was wise enough to just let me boohoo in her arms until I
recovered my equilibrium.)</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">I had to try two senior
complexes before I found the right fit for me.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">I made up my mind that
I’d be happy.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">I adopted the motto: OLD
IS COOL! Because it is. (imo)</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">I chose a drop-dead
date when I would stop driving, and then sold my car to my youngest
granddaughter. Her delight at having a bright red, sporty-looking car,
sweetened the bitterness of this pill.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">As with all of my
decisions, I made up my mind not to grieve over what laws of nature governor.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">My rule as a writer:
NEVER GIVE UP WRITING.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Write something each day
that it’s humanly possible. (Did I break this vow? Of course. But as soon as
possible, I went right back to writing. And I’m not talking about my grocery
list.)</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Growing old is sometimes a
challenge. One must reject bitterness, regret and loss, and then press forward with
hope, courage and faith.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Now back to my new cozy
with the working title of <i>Corpse Under a Sagebrush</i>. Which more than likely will
change.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Cheers,</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Jackie</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-46933097684810407022017-01-12T00:00:00.000-06:002017-01-12T00:00:10.142-06:00INDIE PUBLISHING: My New Venture in 2017<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">by Jackie King</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Technology in printing and the
popularity of ebooks have changed the publishing world in ways that have
transformed the book industry.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">I’ve always been something of a
late bloomer, and my entrance into publishing my own books is no different.
When I started writing seriously, that was back in the late 1980s, self-publishing
was considered to be something that only hobbyists indulged in to bolster their
egos. Twenty-first century publishing is a whole new ballgame.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">The once shabby title of
“self-publishing,” is now called “Indie publishing," and has a shine all its
own. Now everyone and his favorite author seems to be considering some type of Indie
publishing. Including yours truly.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">At the close of 2016, I asked
for the copyrights to all of my books and novellas to be returned to me, and the regional
publisher I worked with for many years graciously agreed. So with the help of
local writer/editor, Joshua Danker-Dake, and local graphic designer/artist,
Mark Combs, I am in the process of printing Blue Cameo Books.</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia";">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia";"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TNXzhAPzyjM/WG0x-_qmKTI/AAAAAAAAC4s/qncKy995fU8l9YhYHeCL9JWGfPNQBdPqwCEw/s1600/Joshua%2BDanker-Dake%2Bpic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TNXzhAPzyjM/WG0x-_qmKTI/AAAAAAAAC4s/qncKy995fU8l9YhYHeCL9JWGfPNQBdPqwCEw/s320/Joshua%2BDanker-Dake%2Bpic.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Josh Daker-Dake, Writer and Editor</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"><i>“Self-publishing was time-consuming, but straightforward—it’s nothing any reasonably computer-savvy person can’t do with a little bit of diligence." Josh Daker-Dake—interview with Publisher’s Weekly 2015</i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TNXzhAPzyjM/WG0x-_qmKTI/AAAAAAAAC4k/khElxpQT3gYfvq_DVQdusvnQ8TatgsCLACEw/s1600/Joshua%2BDanker-Dake%2Bpic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><br /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0JUMt8umY4w/WG0zKPxdGCI/AAAAAAAAC40/JtoWzmNEWsI9ZFAFlAq2BrGIZbKEPDBogCEw/s1600/Mark%2BCombs-Graphic%2BDesigner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0JUMt8umY4w/WG0zKPxdGCI/AAAAAAAAC40/JtoWzmNEWsI9ZFAFlAq2BrGIZbKEPDBogCEw/s320/Mark%2BCombs-Graphic%2BDesigner.jpg" width="207" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mark Combs, Graphic Designer/Artist</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">This imprint will soon
republish all of my Grace Cassidy Mysteries, and my stand alone contemporary
mystery, MURDER AT THE EDGE OF NOWHERE, which is set in the Oklahoma Panhandle.
Later in the year I’ll issue a collection of my historical novellas that are
set in 1889 Guthrie, Oklahoma Territory, at the time of the Land Run.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">I’m very excited with this new
venture, and am enjoying learning more and more about the craft of
self-publishing each day. The illustrious SistersInCrime organization plans on
sponsoring a ListServ for its members sometime this year.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Very soon I’ll show the new
covers of my “Corpse,” series, featuring Grace Cassidy, an independent B&B
inn-sitter who offers her services to overworked innkeepers who desperately
need a vacation.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-80583846910278957492016-12-10T00:30:00.000-06:002016-12-10T00:30:22.645-06:00WAITING FOR SANTA -- AND THE NEW BOOKby June Shaw<br />
<br />
This morning I heard footsteps padding around on my roof and had hopes: Maybe it was Santa (I mean it's the coldest day so far this winter in south Louisiana--the low forties last night.)<br />
<br />
It wasn't such a surprise, though, when a man came down, a slim man who'd gone up on the ladder I had watched him lean against the house. That was before I felt the wind's chill and pulled my nose back in my snug house.<br />
<br />
He came down minutes later and knocked on my backdoor again. "I'm sorry. There's a spot right over there that feels soft," he said. "I need to go to the lumberyard to get a piece of plywood to replace it and a few shingles that match yours."<br />
<br />
At least it didn't sound too terrible. That wouldn't be such a large bill, I figured--even though spending any money on work on the house right before Christmas didn't seem right. I mean, the kids did want presents. Of course mine are grown and would be content to receive nothing, but they'll get gift certificates to a favorite restaurant or building supply place they frequent. The teens are different. They might say they don't need anything--Wait, they're girls and teenagers, and would never make such statements. But they are most pleased with cash to spend on things of their choosing so that's what they'll get.<br />
<br />
Now me: I want to get more work done on my current book--SAVING MOM, and I am pleased to say I have quite a bit done.<br />
<br />
I also want to get make preparations for the first book in that new series, which is set down here. It's called A FATAL ROMANCE, and it is available for pre-order now! It will be released on Jan. 24. <br />
<br />
As you can tell, I am satisfied, even if the little footsteps from my rooftop didn't come from the person I had hoped for. Looking forward to having the first book in a new cozy mystery series is a wonderful present!<br />
<br />
What would you like Santa to bring you?<br />
<br />
http://www.juneshaw.com<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />June Shawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11634658458716422436noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-7077023241036337692016-11-24T00:00:00.000-06:002016-11-24T00:00:13.534-06:00TRUE THANKSGIVING STORY and Pecan Pie Recipe
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0px;">
by Jackie
King</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Thanksgiving is the perfect time for reminiscing and for remembering
family stories. These generational memories are often centered around cooking
and good food, and these special tales of family history should be treasured
and never forgotten.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Here is a yarn spun for the pleasure of all gathered at a festive Thanksgiving
meal celebrating God’s abundance and goodness. Such true stories cry out to be
told and retold.</span></i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y-5Mnh3g4Xs/WCt0vwAt59I/AAAAAAAACvo/V1YGwpn8W-Y_VTW4B1FKjbvkkf45czIDACLcB/s1600/June%2BButts%2Band%2BSophia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y-5Mnh3g4Xs/WCt0vwAt59I/AAAAAAAACvo/V1YGwpn8W-Y_VTW4B1FKjbvkkf45czIDACLcB/s320/June%2BButts%2Band%2BSophia.jpg" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">June Butts with Sofia her Great Granddaugter</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uLV8O_-lABs/WCt0fBz1acI/AAAAAAAACvk/4MXqwlpjV8EpfKjodonuCkeLQRpXdKKEQCEw/s1600/June%2BButts%2Band%2BJamie%2BHorn%2Bcooking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uLV8O_-lABs/WCt0fBz1acI/AAAAAAAACvk/4MXqwlpjV8EpfKjodonuCkeLQRpXdKKEQCEw/s320/June%2BButts%2Band%2BJamie%2BHorn%2Bcooking.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">June Butts with her grandson, Jamie Horn</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></b></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Memories of Papa Peeling Pecans for
the Grandkids</span></b></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span></b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“We called our grandfather, Papa,”
June Butts, now a great grandmother herself, said. “Back in those days
different generations of the family lived in the same house, and it was
wonderful to grow up with an older person who had the time to tell stories and
to teach us kids about the generations past. I think maybe that’s one reason
why families were closer back then.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">The comely woman smiled and the
faraway look that came into her blue eyes told me she had transported herself
back to South Texas and a simpler life sometime in the 1950’s.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“We had a pecan tree and Papa peeled
pecans for the kids. We’d sit in a circle at his feet, listen to his tales, and
eat the perfectly shelled and halved nuts as he passed them around.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“Peeled pecans?” I asked, trying to
imagine how such a feat might be possible. “How could he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">peel </i>pecans?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">It was Thanksgiving Day and I had
been invited to join June’s family for a traditional dinner of turkey, dressing
and all of the trimmings. We were sitting around the table drinking coffee and
savoring that mellow sated satisfaction that fills a group of friends during
happy times.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“With his pocket knife,” June said.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“His pocket knife?” I asked. “You’re
kidding.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“I’m not!” June’s robust laugh was
typical of a woman who was Texas born and bred. “He peeled those pecans just
the same way you’d peel an orange. He’d slice off the top and the bottom, cut
slits around the nuts and then just peel off the hulls. Those pecans came out
in perfect halves and he’d hand them to us kids.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“That must have been one sharp
knife,” I said, wondering how he kept from cutting off his fingers.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“That it was,” June said. “And he
could peel those nuts really fast. Sometimes he’d peel enough for Mama to make
us some pies.” She sighed with remembered pleasure. “Mmm—mmm—mmm, those pies
were good! We never had much money, but we had happy times, anyway. God was
always good to my family.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“I’ll bet you learned to cook from
your own mother,” I said.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">“Sure did. Mama and Daddy had eleven
kids, and I was helping stir up dinner as soon as I could hold a spoon and
stand on a stool to reach the table.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">It happened that we were drinking
Texas Pecan flavored coffee. I took a sip of the hot brew and savored the rich
flavor. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pecans, family and holidays equal
pure pleasure</i>, I thought. Everyone sitting at the table owned their own
cell phones and computers, but some things never change. The memory of “peeled
pecans,” outranked any of the electronic pleasures available to the diners.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Only the delicious food that we
shared stayed the same.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Loretta Carson’s Pecan Pie</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">1
Scant cup sugar</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">1
cup dark Karo Syrup</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">3
eggs</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">3
Tablespoons melted butter or margarine</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Pinch
salt</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">1
teaspoon vanilla</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">1
cup pecans</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Beat eggs and sugar until
blended. Add Karo syrup and mix well, then add melted butter, salt, vanilla and
pecans. Mix well and pour into 9 inch unbaked pie crust. Bake at 400 degrees
for 8 minutes. Turn heat down to 325 degrees and bake for 35 minutes. (Center
will be set.)</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">Happy Thanksgiving to All</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gM8HoYF8HIc/WCt1sNFE8eI/AAAAAAAACvs/GwNGjcUg2Ys-EpUM8IhZjwOiXVICVdYqwCLcB/s1600/DevotedToCookingFrontCover%255B1%255D-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gM8HoYF8HIc/WCt1sNFE8eI/AAAAAAAACvs/GwNGjcUg2Ys-EpUM8IhZjwOiXVICVdYqwCLcB/s320/DevotedToCookingFrontCover%255B1%255D-1.jpg" width="206" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://tinyurl.com/devotedtocooking" target="_blank">by Jacqueline King and Jennifer Sohl</a></div>
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-4668652699221453672016-11-10T00:00:00.000-06:002016-11-10T07:36:52.991-06:00Chasing the Blues by Writing<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;">November 9, 2016</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;">
</span>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;">I have
a bad case of the Blues today. Better than last night around midnight, but still
feeling sad. In my struggle to avoid a gloomy day, I searched my memory for a happier time.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;">A conversation held at a Malice Domestic Conference sprang to mind. A guy who happened to be another cozy mystery writer said,
“My whole day goes better if I write.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;">“Really?”
I said, “So does mine.” The other authors gathered with us agreed.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;">So
today, in pursuit of a lighter heart, I sat my fine broad butt in the chair
in front of my computer and continued working on my newest project. This cozy mystery has the working title of CORPSE IN THE SAGEBRUSH. It’s set in the Oklahoma
Panhandle a little farther west than my just published suspense novel MURDER AT THE EDGE
OF NOWHERE.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-daq5z0Vt8IA/WCOE5YExauI/AAAAAAAACuI/LZHrRWdd4UAqayyrxR1vUGp8H7gPbvehACLcB/s1600/Plains%2Bsunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-daq5z0Vt8IA/WCOE5YExauI/AAAAAAAACuI/LZHrRWdd4UAqayyrxR1vUGp8H7gPbvehACLcB/s400/Plains%2Bsunset.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sunset on the Plains</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Photo by Rhonda Smith Hodges</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;">These
two books are very different, but my therapy will be the same: Telling a story
from my heart.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;">Here’s
wishing all my readers and fellow authors that their day be filled with joy.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;">Cheers,</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 13px; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0px;">Jackie
King</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-67300344353854505612016-10-29T01:00:00.000-05:002016-10-29T01:00:19.483-05:00VOLUNTEER YOUR WRITING <br />
<br />
by June Shaw<br />
<br />
I love to sell material I write. I really do. Getting to write and have something published was tremendously gratifying. It was when I first began.<br />
<br />
Things have changed.<br />
<br />
Yes, I'm still thrilled to learn that anyone would want to read something I create. It's especially pleasing when readers tell me or write that they enjoy my work and even ask for more. That is so exciting!<br />
<br />
Exciting, too, is getting paid for words I write. The first essay I sold to a magazine many years ago brought me forty dollars. I was a widow with five young children, and receiving extra money, especially for words that I wrote, was unbelievable. <br />
<br />
Over the years now I have written a number of books, had a great time doing it, and earned much more than in earlier times.<br />
<br />
I've also enjoyed nonprofit writing. A number of years ago the president of our Chamber of Commerce asked if I would write a column on retiring in our area. There would be no pay, but I could advertise my books in my byline. It would not need to be any longer than five hundred words. "And you can write that in your sleep," she added.<br />
<br />
She was right. I've penned "Retiring on the Bayou" for quite awhile now. I've interviewed people and told of their exciting pursuits since they left their nine-to-five jobs. <br />
<br />
But now it's time for mine. I just finished a column for the paper and started it by saying it would be my last. They should easily find someone else to create a different column. I will have more time to write my novels--but I'll miss having so many people in town tell me how much they enjoy my columns.<br />
<br />
http://www.juneshaw.com<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />June Shawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11634658458716422436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-70870814588128611192016-10-27T00:00:00.000-05:002016-10-27T00:00:28.912-05:00Characters That Form Our Lives
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"><b>and Later Come Alive in Our Stories</b></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">by Jackie King</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">One of
my earliest memories is sitting in a circle with my brother, sister and various
neighbor kids as my mother told us stories. Delia Hodges Sprague could spin a
yarn about any character or characters we might name. Let’s say that I wanted a
story about Cinderella, my sister Joan wanted the heroine to be Wonder Woman
and my brother J.D., chose Tarzan of the Apes.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">No
problem to Mother. She’d create one tale using each of these characters. The
story would be exciting and it would make sense. At least to kids.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Delia
Hodges Sprague was a storyteller, an actress, a teacher and a sometimes writer.
This redheaded dynamo was smart, fun and very temperamental. My childhood was
sometimes difficult, sometimes frightening and always challenging. But life was
never boring.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Mother
taught me to read, and when there was nothing to read, to make up stories
inside my head and entertain myself with imaginary friends and foes.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Delia
Hodges Sprague is often found in my books. Sometimes she’s in the guise of a
father, a mother or a best friend. In my latest mystery, MURDER AT THE EDGE OF
NOWHERE set in the land of her childhood, the Oklahoma Panhandle, she’s walks and breathes in the
character of Winnie Doolittle.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_ktA7OLNtWc/WAubUnzN7fI/AAAAAAAACtM/R2cqRseE0AYVSY_W_fsa6OYaWlAGTPZNwCEw/s1600/MATEON%2Bfront%2Bcoverr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_ktA7OLNtWc/WAubUnzN7fI/AAAAAAAACtM/R2cqRseE0AYVSY_W_fsa6OYaWlAGTPZNwCEw/s320/MATEON%2Bfront%2Bcoverr.jpg" width="206" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Murder-Edge-Nowhere-Jackie-King-ebook/dp/B01LW6UKL3/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1477155758&sr=1-1&keywords=murder+at+the+edge+of+nowhere" target="_blank">$3.99 at Amazon Kindle</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Delia
faced real danger with lionhearted courage: she rode boxcars from Oklahoma to
New York state at the age of 20, challenged rattlesnakes in my grandparents
pasture and tarantulas in the outhouse of a country school. But small things shattered
her: imagined slights, walking into her bank to ask for a loan or having a conversation
with her own father.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">When I
was a child she often awoke screaming bloody murder from recurrent nightmares;
battled depression her entire life and fought breast cancer until her death.
She was an extraordinary woman of courage. I loved her with all my heart. But
she wasn’t an easy mother to have.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">To see
the best side of Delia Hodges Sprague, read MURDER AT THE EDGE OF NOWHERE, and
observe Winnie Doolittle. To see the more complicated side of my mother, notice Emily Ashcroft.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Most
everyone loved my mother—especially me. I hope you’ll enjoy her as Winnie Doolittle
in MURDER ON THE EDGE OF NOWHERE</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Below
is a clipping from the end of chapter two after Liz O’Brien and Winnie
Doolittle find cousin Christabel in Liz’s garage:</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">“Help!” Liz screamed. “Oh, my God. Someone. Anyone. Please help.” They stretched
Christabel on the grass.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">“Won’t do no good to yell.” Winnie’s voice was cold, toneless. “You know
how to do that resuscitation thing?”</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Liz forced herself to press her mouth against Christabel’s cold lips.
Her gut twisted. Why didn’t someone drive by? She alternated the breathing routine
with chest compression for what seemed</span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"> forever, but she knew it was useless. Christabel
was unresponsive. Liz felt for a pulse. Nothing.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">“You might as well quit.” Winnie pulled at Liz’s shoulder. “She’s
dead. We’ll have to call the police and tell them she killed herself.”</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">“But that’s crazy. Christabel would never commit suicide.
Nothing could make me think that.”</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 16px 0px 0px;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">“Oh,
hell, Liz. Don’t be stupid. I’m not telling you what to think. I’m telling you
what to say.”</span></i></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-12460533099398342222016-10-13T00:00:00.000-05:002016-10-13T00:00:34.882-05:00Galley Proofs for MURDER AT THE EDGE OF NOWHERE
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">by Jackie King</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Yesterday I
received galley proofs of my latest mystery, MURDER AT THE EDGE OF NOWHERE. The
odd thing in up-to-date publishing trends, at least with my small regional
publisher, is that the ebook came out a few weeks ago. I’ve been reading this
version and have been appalled at some of the errors. Did I do that? I ask
myself, or was it the publisher’s editor, the publisher himself?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oa6YG_9_xbQ/V_5oWN29RNI/AAAAAAAACrw/wDh5uo9xu6wOX8FWalp2AcSUFiWzQx2xACLcB/s1600/MurderAtTheEdgeOfNowhere_ebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oa6YG_9_xbQ/V_5oWN29RNI/AAAAAAAACrw/wDh5uo9xu6wOX8FWalp2AcSUFiWzQx2xACLcB/s320/MurderAtTheEdgeOfNowhere_ebook.jpg" width="206" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">It doesn’t really
matter. It’s my book, and I accept all responsibility for any mistakes. Which
is what Galley Proofs are all about. The last ditch chance to catch and correct
mistakes.</span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">For those who don’t
know, Galley Proofs are pages of the novel sent to me online. I print them out
on paper, or do a final <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Murder-Edge-Nowhere-Jackie-King-ebook/dp/B01LW6UKL3/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1476290943&sr=1-1&keywords=murder+at+the+edge+of+nowhere" target="_blank">$3.99 at Amazon</a>edit on a copy online. My choice.</span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">The good news is
that this means the paper version will soon be available.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ha7yFp1cQB0/V_5olL2pTKI/AAAAAAAACr0/BiJsS99QRUs-y8trwTjxmaeFqc_gJkyzQCLcB/s1600/J%2Bking%2Bapartment%2Bpic%2B4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ha7yFp1cQB0/V_5olL2pTKI/AAAAAAAACr0/BiJsS99QRUs-y8trwTjxmaeFqc_gJkyzQCLcB/s320/J%2Bking%2Bapartment%2Bpic%2B4.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Jackie at Work on Galley Proofs</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">And that’s what I’m
doing just now—or it will be as soon as I finish this post. And according to
both my calendar and my watch, I’d better get at it. Now!</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Cheers,</span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0px;">Jackie</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-20571547359441552822016-09-22T00:00:00.000-05:002016-09-22T00:00:31.260-05:00My Latest Mystery--Suspense, Not Cozy
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">MURDER AT THE EDGE OF NOWHERE, is now available on Amazon Kindle</span>!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MFx3pg-CDOE/V-LfUDfB6rI/AAAAAAAACqo/fvdN9y548ecqIwa7tcbIwScZ_JNpEOauACLcB/s1600/MurderAtTheEdgeOfNowhere_ebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MFx3pg-CDOE/V-LfUDfB6rI/AAAAAAAACqo/fvdN9y548ecqIwa7tcbIwScZ_JNpEOauACLcB/s320/MurderAtTheEdgeOfNowhere_ebook.jpg" width="206" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Embezzlement, Blackmail and Murder</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">On the Oklahoma Panhandle!</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span><div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When
Liz O’Brien returns home to make peace with her ailing mother, she expects
boredom and monotony. Instead, she finds a morass of secrets that land her in
the crosshairs of a killer. Who would have thought that Tumbleweed, an Oklahoma
panhandle town so tiny it could disappear as a mirage, would be rift with embezzlement,
blackmail and murder?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Plus: The romantic designs of handsome cowboy from her past, really throw Liz
for a loop.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 6pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Here’s how the story begins:</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 6pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Prologue</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Everyone
has something they want to hide, but you have more than most.” Christabel
Steele flipped her hair backwards, a movement that she knew accentuated her
beauty. She pictured her sleek, golden hair fanning in practiced perfection
over her right shoulder. The gesture usually mesmerized men and annoyed women.
But today her quarry’s eyes glazed with fear. Christabel licked her lips,
savoring the moment. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Like an antelope
caught in underbrush. But instead of blood, I’ll taste money.</i></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Emotional
pain radiated from her dupe, and Christabel drew strength from the suffering.
Her earliest memory was watching her father suck marrow from a steak bone while
he skillfully tormented her pliable mother. Without so much as raising his
voice, the man could cause his beautiful, gentle wife to turn pale as moonlight
and cry like a baby. Christabel had watched and learned. Daddy had been dead
five years now, but she still worshipped him. He had taught her well.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
still have trouble understanding how you found out.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You
mention that each time you come, and my answer never changes.” Christabel
laughed. “Your tawdry little secret was clear to me from the beginning. I saw
and recorded every detail in my journals.” Christabel swirled the half-filled
champagne glass, never moving her gaze from her prey. “I’ve kept notes on what
I’ve seen for a very long time. I started back in the second grade when I got
in trouble for tellin<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>g people’s
secrets.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You’ve
been a monster since a child! A bad seed.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh,
please.” Christabel licked her lips again, savoring her victim’s pain, which
was stronger than she had expected.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“And
you think people will continue paying forever?” The prey’s voice tightened and
Christabel’s lips curved higher.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well
you have, haven’t you?” Christabel moved her body sensuously against the sofa.
“And not just in cash.” Her enjoyment intensified as the person’s misery grew.
“I never tell my victims <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">everything</i> I
know about their little indiscretions. A pinch of uncertainty adds excitement
to the hunt. Then, the slightest hint of knowledge and you all get the same
stricken look on your faces—like an antelope just before a mountain lion
pounces. I watched that once on TV.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
victim flinched and Christabel laughed.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Growing
up, I watched my parents carefully. I inherited Mother’s beauty, and Daddy’s
brain. I learned how to get what I wanted by mirroring him.” Christabel smiled.
“Knowing is power and power is even better than sex.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You’d
do this even if cash wasn’t involved, wouldn’t you?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Christabel
arched an eyebrow. This one was smarter than she’d thought. “Perhaps. My family
has run Tumbleweed since the late 1800s. We’ve always called the shots here—my
father before me and his father before him. I like making people dance to my
tune. And I like the money.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Her
life was perfect.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then
she remembered Liz. Why the hell hadn’t her cousin stayed in Tulsa where she
belonged? Everyone claimed the bitch had been a huge success. Crashed through
the glass ceiling and became VP of some company. Now she’d returned and wanted
her house to herself.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She’d hated her cousin forever!</span></i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
It was Liz’s fault she’d gotten pregnant and had that embarrassing baby with
his brown skin.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Christabel
flicked her tongue across her scarlet lips remembering the night a heartbroken
Liz had eloped on the rebound to marry that worthless Danny O’Brien. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I thought she was gone forever. Oh, the hell
with her.</i></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Christabel
took another swallow of the expensive wine. Her victim always brought the
finest. She frowned and sniffed the glass. She had left the room for only a
moment in order to carry that wretched cat upstairs and lock the beast in Liz’s
room. Could there be something in the champagne? Christabel smiled. Impossible.
Too much fear. “You brought the money?” She held out a small aristocratic hand.
“All of it?”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes.”
Her victim sat quietly, and the quietness annoyed Christabel. She sipped the
champagne again. Of course, it tasted the same; it was her fourth glass. She
drained the flute, then smiled. She’d finish the whole bottle and offer none to
her prey. Daddy had taught her how to hold her liquor and how to keep victims
in their place.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You
promise not to tell?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“If
you pay, I never tell.” Christabel let contempt curl her lips upward, then
enjoyed the resentment mirrored on the victim’s face. Christabel laughed. “At
least, I haven’t yet.”</span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
room grew suddenly warm. The fragile stemmed glass weighed heavily in her hand
and her head spun. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What was happening to
her</i>?</span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A
black pistol appeared from a pocket as if by magic, grasped by the visitor’s
white-knuckled fingers. “Sit still.” The voice was hard and angry and not a bit
frightened.</span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What
the hell...?” Christabel asked. It took her a minute to regroup. She narrowed
her eyes. “Don’t be an idiot. You shoot me and your sins become public. My
cousin Liz will give my journals to the police. You won’t be able to pay her to
stay silent. Miss Perfect wouldn’t take a bribe to save her own life.”</span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m
here now, and I’ll find the books before she comes home.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Books?
I quit writing on paper years ago.” Christabel’s words started to slur. “Even
if you find my old journals and smash my iPad, there are tiny things called
thumb drives you’ll never find.”</span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’ll
take the chance.” Her visitor reached into the same pocket and pulled out a
plastic bag, passing it to Christabel. “Put that over your head.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You
think I’m crazy?” Christabel felt even dizzier. Her eyelids were heavy. If only
she could close them for a minute, she’d be all right…back in control.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“If
you don’t do what I say, I’m going to shoot off one side of your face.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Not
her face, her beautiful face! This couldn’t be happening. She was the hunter.
She had never been prey.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I
won’t kill you. I’ll just take off one cheekbone. I’ll even call 911 before I
leave. Only, no man will ever look at you again. Your outside will be as ugly
as your inside. That’d be worth going to jail for.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
image so terrified Christabel that she slipped the bag over her head, leaving
the bottom open to breathe through. She’d stall. Keep talking. She’d think of a
way to get the edge. She always did, just as Daddy always had.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Her
visitor walked behind her and put the barrel of the pistol against her face.
Christabel sat still, not daring to move. She felt fingers reach forward and
tighten the bag around her neck. The gun seemed like ice against her skin.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: .5in 1.1in 1.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Christabel
drew in a sharp breath, and then the plastic shrink-wrapped her mouth. She
couldn’t raise her hand, and she couldn’t breathe! She might really die! For
the first time, she knew what fear meant, then blind terror.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The last sound
Christabel heard was glass shattering when the champagne flute slipped from her
fingers.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 6pt 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 6pt 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Print copies will be available soon!</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-54094969394951825122016-09-10T00:19:00.000-05:002016-09-10T00:19:14.268-05:00REACHING THE END<div>
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by June Shaw</div>
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I'm breathing. Just breathing. And actually moving my fingers over the keyboard right now to pen this blog. The reason I'm allowing myself time to just breathe--actually, relax and do whatever I want to, even if it's nothing--is because I just finished writing my newest book.</div>
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I finished writing it!</div>
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Okay, not really. What I've done is complete my second book in the upcoming series, and then I rewrote and revised and edited three times. Day before yesterday I sent it to an excellent beta reader, so it's in her hands now. I need to get it to my editor at Kensington by October 1. Soon after that I'll have to start on the third book in the twin-sisters series they want.</div>
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Once book number two, called DEAD ON THE BAYOU comes back to me from my sweet beta reader I'll need to revise it again before the 1st. </div>
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And of course once my editor gets the book at the publishing house, I'll need to do bits of revising again.</div>
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In the meantime, I'm going to just breathe. Maybe take a nap.</div>
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What do you do once you finish a book?</div>
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juneshaw.com</div>
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June Shawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11634658458716422436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-55096984969454982702016-09-08T00:00:00.003-05:002016-09-08T12:18:32.694-05:00GUEST WRITER—MARY COLEY<div class="Body">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Posted by Jackie King</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mary Coley
is an Oklahoma writer. During her professional career, she has worked as a
journalist, a park planner, an environmental educator and a public relations
officer. A native of Enid, Coley lives in Tulsa, where she is an active
volunteer for Oxley Nature Center. She holds membership in state and national
writers groups, as well as the Tulsa Chapter of the Women in Communications.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JvQy4IiE2DE/V9BCNoalC4I/AAAAAAAACpM/bSjiNmOV4Q0Z2cbcl0GxMHRyi4Ijp5KmACLcB/s1600/IMG_8797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JvQy4IiE2DE/V9BCNoalC4I/AAAAAAAACpM/bSjiNmOV4Q0Z2cbcl0GxMHRyi4Ijp5KmACLcB/s320/IMG_8797.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Finding a Storyline<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">by Mary Coley<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We've all heard that there are no new story lines, they have all
been used before. Not good news, especially for mystery writers. A limited
number of motives for murder exist and only a limited number of ways to do the
deed. So how do you make your mystery new and relevant? Incorporating a topic
of current interest into your story is one way to do it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For my second mystery, <b><i>Ant Dens</i></b>, I found a topic I
had seen in the headlines and even on a
billboard with a 1-800 number. But I had never read anything about it
and had never attached a human face to it. It was only a phrase; I didn't pay
much attention. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">While researching, I discovered a shocking issue: the kidnapping
of children, young women, young men and even adults for use in the sex trade or
servitude. Could I incorporate the issue of human trafficking in a mystery I
had just finished drafting?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the second mystery in my Family Secret Series, Ant Dens, the
main character's stepdaughter disappears. Jamie wonders if Rebecca ran away or
if she had been kidnapped. Wouldn't the tension be increased if it was possible
that her stepdaughter had been trafficked and might be existing in a living
hell? That would add a whole new twist to the story, and provide a way to make
the mystery current but also timeless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">People have been sold into slavery, or trafficked, throughout the
history of mankind. This horrific crime is not new, but most of us don't think
much about it. That is, unless we personally have a missing loved one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I began to delve into the emotions those family members feel when
a loved one disappears. What horrible fears and imaginings must go through the
minds of those left behind! I can imagine my character wanting to shrug it off,
to refuse to believe the worst, but what if it becomes almost a certainty that
her worst fear has been realized? And worse yet, what if the disappearance was
not random, but might be related to her stepdaughter's father, her deceased
second husband?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My character, Jamie, does what I hope I would do. She becomes
consumed with finding her stepdaughter. It does not matter that she was not
particularly close to the young woman. Rebecca is family -- she is all that
remains of the husband she loved and misses horribly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In <b><i>Ant Dens</i></b><i> </i>I chose the setting of New
Mexico, a state well aware of tragic disappearances, as the Hispanic population
is often victimized in trafficking crimes. And Rebecca is half Hispanic. I
added an additional conflict by including Rebecca's mother, Jamie's husband's
first wife, in the mystery. Maria comes to stay with Jamie as they investigate
the girl's disappearance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hope that the resulting newly crafted mystery, <b><i>Ant</i> <i>Dens:A
Suspense Novel </i></b>provides<b> </b>a new awareness of this horrifying and
prevalent crime as well as a chilling ride for the reader! I hope you'll check
out my Amazon Author page too, after you visit my book link. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ant-Dens-A-Suspense-Novel/dp/1627871969/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1419966722&sr=1-2">Www.amazon.com/Ant-Dens-A-Suspense-Novel/dp/1627871969/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1419966722&sr=1-2</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">MARY COLEY'S LATEST MYSTERY:</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l2lSFPfAWVI/V9BEwWSGp6I/AAAAAAAACpU/jW8-OWoOvN0iQlTtxg3Xga8ocBVyIWhRACLcB/s1600/The%2BRavine%2Bby%2BMary%2BColey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l2lSFPfAWVI/V9BEwWSGp6I/AAAAAAAACpU/jW8-OWoOvN0iQlTtxg3Xga8ocBVyIWhRACLcB/s1600/The%2BRavine%2Bby%2BMary%2BColey.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Learn more
about Mary on her website, <a href="http://www.marycoley.com/">www.marycoley.com</a></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">or at her blog,Blog Site: <a href="http://marycoley.me/">http://marycoley.me</a></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her books are available at Amazon.com.</span></div>
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Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-42318302737461767912016-08-25T00:00:00.000-05:002016-08-25T00:00:27.600-05:00BRAINSTORMING AND WRITING TRUTHS<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">by Jackie King<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;">Brainstorming
for plot points is another of those writing conundrums: I love plotting—I hate
plotting.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">Friends
sometimes help. In an email to a colleague, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I mentioned </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I was struggling over which
type of book to write next, suspense or cozy. This writer/lawyer called me that afternoon and said, “An idea for your next book just came to me, and it's about Grace.” (The protagonist in my cozy series.) </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">My heart sank a bit, because I'd almost decided on writing a suspense novel. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">Then my writing-pal outlined his thoughts. I liked them, but still wasn't sure if that was the route I wanted to take. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">He
added, “Don’t think I’ll feel bad if you don’t use this idea. It just came to
me and I wanted to pass it on.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=mark+darrah" target="_blank"><img alt=" Mark Darrah, Attorney and author of A Catalog of Common People " border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Es3XwEHGc88/V7yDpMXBZNI/AAAAAAAACm4/WHUGmjls16AvRAPBUfqKXU4A-WN-lZrPgCEw/s320/Mark_Darrah%2Band%2Bfriends.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=mark+darrah" target="_blank">Mark Darrah, Attorney and Author of Catalog of Common People</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I don't write religious/inspirational books, but I do believe in prayer and in listening to guidance from God. For this reason, I carefully considered my friend’s
suggestion. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">As
he and I talked on the phone, the story began to grow arms and legs, and when I
mentioned these. He agreed they were good.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The next morning, when I was my busiest, plot points began coming in a way that doesn’t usually </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">happen to me. Most often I have to struggle, and with much weeping and wailing and
gnashing of teeth.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Great
plot ideas, scenes, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">twists</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> and </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">turns, seem to come at the most inconvenient time for me. (I think this is because my body is busy, and my mind relaxed.) I had just showered and needed to dress, then tidy up my apartment for the cleaner
who could come at any minute. If something is cluttered, i.e. the bathroom counter,
the kitchen sink counter, areas that need dusting, etc., she won’t clean that
spot. House rules.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I’d already spent more time writing than I had available, and the duties of daily
living beckoned. So I had the following argument with myself:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">“These
ideas are so vivid, they’ll stay right here in my head until I tidy up. This
apartment must be cleaned if I'm to stay on schedule!” Thus I lectured myself as I finished drying my feet. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Then a still voice from somewhere deep inside said, "That won't happen. It never does for you." Whether this was my better self, or a higher power, I don't know. But I did know </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">that it would be wise to follow the advice.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">So,
wearing only my towel, I went to the computer and began to type. (Luckily that
was only six steps. I live in one of those apartment complexes for Independent
Seniors, and have learned to love simplicity.) I keyed in all of the essentials
necessary to capture on paper the ideas that flowed inside my head.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm so glad that I listened! I have enough plot points for at least three
chapters, and a good start on the new novel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I’m
leaving you with two writing truths:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The law of creativity demands immediate obedience. </i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">When ideas come, write them down immediately, or you'll lose them. </span><span style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><i>A blank page can only be fixed with words</i>.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">When
there’s no inspiration, sit down at your computer, put your fingers on the
keys, and write anyway. No matter how bad your work seems to you at the time,
any prose can be edited and improved.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GLM0BxS_UxE/V7zKjvShFQI/AAAAAAAACnU/PoD7t0CYTKUAUFHgwjU2OSkVIGhRMEv0ACLcB/s1600/Murder-newAuthorFont.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GLM0BxS_UxE/V7zKjvShFQI/AAAAAAAACnU/PoD7t0CYTKUAUFHgwjU2OSkVIGhRMEv0ACLcB/s320/Murder-newAuthorFont.jpg" width="205" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">My latest novel set in the Oklahoma Panhandle. Due out soon!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Cheers!</span></span></div>
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Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-67415858358130070222016-08-11T00:00:00.001-05:002016-08-11T08:11:59.444-05:00GUEST AUTHOR DEBORAH CAMP ON WHY WE READ<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">WHY DO WE READ?</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_c_2_17?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=solitary+horseman+by+deborah+camp&sprefix=Solitary+Horseman%2Caps%2C156&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Asolitary+horseman+by+deborah+camp" target="_blank"><img alt="Product Details" height="320" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51xVeLpJ8GL._AC_US160_.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">INFECTIOUS READING</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">by Deborah
Camp</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I
recently read an interesting article by the ever-interesting novelist Neil
Gaiman about the importance of reading. Often, I see posts on Facebook and
other places wherein people fret about the younger generations not appreciating
reading and preferring to play video games. This fretting flies in the face of
huge sales of Harry Potter books and many other adventure novels aimed at
children and teens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I'm of a
mind that there will always be avid readers, just as surely as there will
always be those who can't bring themselves to read more than a caption under a
photograph or instructions on how to play a new game.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Gaiman
quotes Rebecca Solnit, who asserted that "a book is a heart that beats in
the chest of another." That's so very true, and it's why many people not
only enjoy books, but also films, TV, and video games. A book, however, gives
you a wholly different journey because, when done well, it allows you to know
someone else's mind, feelings, and experiences. You don't just
"watch." You live and breathe with a character or characters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As Gaiman
puts it, "books are the way we communicate with the dead. The way that we
learn lessons from those who are no longer with us, that humanity has built on
itself, progressed, made knowledge incremental rather than something that has
to be relearned, over and over. Fiction is the lie that tells the
truth..."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He
cautioned against preaching and writing what you wouldn't be that interested in
reading. Difficult tasks. That might surprise some, but writers know it's true.
The need to "preach" hinders us all. We have beliefs and truths we
want to present in every novel, but if we hammer home these
"lessons," we risk alienating our readers. Likewise, every writer has
written "fluff" to fill out a book. Fluff is usually scenes that go
on too long and serve no real purpose other than to add pages, relating
information the writer has recently learned and feels compelled to share even
it's boring to others, or fascinating facts that end up stopping the book's
narrative. To take the editing pen and strike out paragraphs and whole pages
takes courage, but is necessary. Like cutting out a cancerous growth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Lessons
or ideas should be sprinkled in, rather than poured into book pages. Otherwise,
you will over-season and ruin your original, good recipe for a well-told tale.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">In my new
novel. SOLITARY HORSEMAN, I dealt with three "lessons." With so many,
it was a delicate mission to keep them under rein so they didn't trample my
story. Throughout, I had to remind myself why we read -- to immerse ourselves
in another place, time, and body, so that we emerge different than when we
entered that fictive world. Also, and this is no small thing, to entertain and
delight. When I write, I craft scenes that I hope will compel readers to keep turning
the pages, but also to elicit smiles, frowns, and maybe even a giggle or
longing sigh. This happens when readers "become" the characters; when
they forget where they are and what they're doing and take breath for breath
with the character in the book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I recall
when I read THE STAND by Stephen King. In it, a deadly disease was killing off
most of the population and symptoms started off with people coughing. I had
been reading the book during my break at work. When I went back to work, a
co-worker walked past me and coughed. My heart froze and my gaze snapped to the
person as a sickly fear slithered through my mind with the thought, <i>He's
infected! </i>Of course, in the next instant I was back in my own world and
laughing at myself even as I marveled at Mr. King's ability to wrap me up so
tightly in his fictive world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">That my
friends, is talent. And that is also why we read.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Deborah Camp's Newest:</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_c_2_17?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=solitary+horseman+by+deborah+camp&sprefix=Solitary+Horseman%2Caps%2C156&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Asolitary+horseman+by+deborah+camp" target="_blank"><img alt="Product Details" height="400" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51xVeLpJ8GL._AC_US160_.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_c_2_17?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=solitary+horseman+by+deborah+camp&sprefix=Solitary+Horseman%2Caps%2C156&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Asolitary+horseman+by+deborah+camp" target="_blank"><br /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #888888; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22.5px;">Series below features psychic detectives Levi Wolfe and Trudy Tucker:</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank"><img alt="Mind's Eye (3 Book Series) by Deborah Camp" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/D1jtOgxszFS._SL250_FMpng_.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank"><br /></a>
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank"><br /></a>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; font-weight: 700; line-height: 22.5px;">From Book 1:</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; line-height: 22.5px;"> Someone is stalking women and murdering them in Key West. </span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; line-height: 22.5px;">Psychic Detectives Levi Wolfe and Trudy Tucker join forces to help identify the murderer and stop him. Levi can channel the deceased victims and Trudy can tap into the mind of the killer. As a psychic detective team, they’re formidable. As lovers, they discover that they’re insatiable. </span></a></span><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
</a><br />
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<span style="color: #404040; font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank">Reach out to Deborah through these channels:<o:p></o:p></a></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank">Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/AuthorDebCamp<o:p></o:p></a></span><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Blog: </span><span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">http://deborahcampwritersdesk.blogspot.com/</span></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank">Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/officialdeborahcamp/<o:p></o:p></a></span><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Pinterest: </span><span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">http://www.pinterest.com/debbycamp44</span></span></a></div>
</div>
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #111111; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: start;" /></span>
</a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; line-height: 22.5px;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012A3Z1W6/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank"><br /></a></span></span></div>
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Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-63640051801963418392016-07-28T00:00:00.000-05:002016-07-28T00:00:32.971-05:00DIALOGUE AND CHARACTERIZATION FROM REAL LIFE<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">by Jackie King<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Realistic dialogue with clear attributions makes the characters in your story come alive. Natural sounding dialogue helps distinguish one character from another. </span></span><br />
<b style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The death knell for a writer:</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large; text-indent: 0in;">Have you ever
been reading, and suddenly wondered which character is speaking? I have, and the
experience frustrates me. I'm forced to stop reading and count quotation marks backward to the last attribution, then count forward to learn who’s
talking. I’m annoyed right out of the story. I want to throw the book across the room. If I haven’t bonded with the
characters in a special way, I might quit and move to another book in my
TBR (to be read) stack.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>Solution to the problem:</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0in;">Dialogue confusion occurs when attributions aren’t given or when characters all sound alike. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0in;">Realistic dialogue makes the people in a story come alive. Natural sounding dialogue can help distinguish one character from another even without names. If there's any doubt about the reader knowing who is speaking, use the simple attribution, <i>said</i>. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0in;"> The word, "said," is almost invisible to American readers. Don't be afraid to use it .</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span><b style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0in;">How do we keep the reader turning pages?</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Try the following
exercise to hone this skill:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Write a scene with three people without using names of
characters.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I did this in a
class once, and it was so much fun! I chose a high school principal’s office as
the setting. The three characters were a teenage boy, his father and the
principal. I worked all afternoon on this project, and finally achieved the goal
to my satisfaction. I used body language and conversation only. No names.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>My challenge:</b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The boy needed to sound young, and inexperienced. He's embarrassed, and </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">intimidated</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> by the
situation, but trying not to show his feelings to the grownups.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The father channeled a middle aged businessman, highly annoyed and embarrassed by his son’s bad behavior. He snapped at his son, was tersely polite with the principal, and he looked at his watch every couple of minutes.</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The
principal was professional, but obviously most interested in solving his
problem and getting on with running the school. The premise of the scene was to
portray a student getting little real guidance from either adult</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>A stealthy technique:</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large; text-indent: 0in;">Good dialogue is
not easy to write. Some people seem to have a natural flare for this, and others
have to work hard and rewrite a number of times. Both writers create successful
novels, and entertain readers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Eavesdropping is
a good tool for improving dialogue. When you’re at a restaurant, listen to the conversations nearby. This works even better,
if you can’t see the people who are talking. Picture their appearance, age,
color of hair, level of education, and apply that method to your own
characters. Is one person from a different part of the country? How does his
speech pattern and lingo differ from locals?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<b style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Moving on.</span></b></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">None of us,
writers and readers alike, graduate from the school of life. We experience either joy or vexation, both through books and in life. We learn continually, and writers record this fine journey. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Remember:</b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Everything that’s going on in our seemingly
mundane lives, will one day be considered history.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-20735509362495241302016-07-15T09:43:00.000-05:002016-07-15T09:43:17.821-05:00Writing Mistakes<span style="font-size: large;">by Jean Henry Mead</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It’s often difficult for novices to break the writing habits they've learned in school. Perfect grammar, especially when writing dialogue, is one of the worst mistakes a writer can make. I was in an online critique group a dozen years ago, comprised mainly of unpublished writers. I’ll never forget a critique that said, “You need to clean up your characters’ grammar.” The characters were uneducated farmers.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Author William Noble once said, “The grammar rules we learned in eighth grade should never be followed absolutely. At best they are one choice among several, and at worst, they will dampen our creative instincts.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The use of clichés is another fledgling blunder. The rule of thumb is: if it sounds familiar, don’t use it. If you can’t come up with something original and your muse is tugging you on, type in a row of Xs and write it later during the second draft. But if you must use a cliché, add the word <em>proverbial </em>as in "as profitable as the proverbial golden goose."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Of course there are rules that must be followed, such as adding commas for clarity and periods at the end of sentences. Some writers have felt that innovative sentence structure signals creativity, but the practice is only acceptable now in poetry. In <em>Ulysses</em>, for example, James Joyce’s last chapter begins with: </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<em><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, because he never did a thing like that before as ask to get his breakfast in bed with a couple of eggs since the City Arms hotel when he used to be pretending to be laid up with a sick voice doing his highness to make himself interesting to that old faggot Mrs. Riordan that he thought he had a great leg of and she never left us a farthing all for the masses for herself and her soul greatest miser ever. . .</span></em><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Joyce’s stream of conscience continues for forty pages without a single period. I wonder how many people actually read it to the end. Creative and innovative? In my opinion, anything that slows the reader for even a few words may cause him to abandon the book.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">On the opposite end of the sentence spectrum, Hemingway taught novices to write declarative sentences: “The day had been hot.” “The rifle was long and cold and strange.” “She wore black shoes, a red cape and a white tunic. . .” However, short, choppy sentences must be interspersed with longer ones to make them read well. A good practice for beginning writers is to read one’s work aloud to avoid clumsy phrasing. If words don’t flow well together and your reader stumbles over them, you’ve lost her. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Reading the classics doesn't prepare anyone well to write for today’s market. I’ve judged writing contest entries that contain the most formal language I’ve seen since reading <em>War and Peace</em>. Some fledglings avoid contractions entirely, even when writing dialogue. The result is stilted language.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Studying the bestsellers for style, content, description and characterization helps the beginner gain a handhold in the current market. Some writing teachers advise copying your favorite author’s work, as artists have done with the masters—as long as it’s only practice and doesn't result in plagiarism. </span><br />
.Jean Henry Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08146960738692672013noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-18719577001805492572016-07-14T00:00:00.000-05:002016-07-14T09:35:26.973-05:00BOOKS CHANGED MY LIFE<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">by Jackie King<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">People have asked if there's a specific book that changed my life, and that question always stumps me. Many books have influenced me but what <i>transformed </i>my life was discovering books in general.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I remember the first time that I fell into the pages
of a book all by myself. I can still recall the awe of it all. Between my hands
I held the promise of a lifetime filled with adventure and pleasure and
comfort. I was overcome by the wonder of it all, and, much like Dorothy in <i>The Wonderful Wizard of Oz</i>, my world turned Technicolor.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">My mother had read books to me, and I had loved
that. But hearing those stories was limited by Mother having time available,
and she was a busy woman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The ability to read my very own hardcover book was a
thrill that I’ll never forget.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">~~~~~~~</span></div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large; text-indent: 0in;">I was seven years old and riding home on a school bus
filled with high school kids who were Mother’s English students. Being a teacher's kid automatically made me a stationary target. All of the contempt these teens felt for being forced to write complete sentences without using double
negatives found its way to me. The short ride to our small house in the country
was usually an ordeal. But suddenly I had found a hiding place.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">God smiled on me in the third grade when Miss Hinkle,
an aging old maid whose life was teaching her students, put a book into my hands
and encouraged me to read it as a way to entertain myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">My earlier experience with reading books had featured the perfect world of Dick, Jane and Spot. While I admired these siblings
and their pet, I didn’t have one thing in common with them.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Dick and Jane never got into trouble, and I did. Their parents agreed on most everything. Mine were divorced. Their mother stayed home with them, and mine had to work. </span><span style="font-size: x-large; text-indent: 0in;">While I
admired such paragons of virtue, I couldn't identify with them.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large; text-indent: 0in;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large; text-indent: 0in;">In the book I read that day on the bus, the girl telling
the story got into all kinds of trouble, and suddenly, magically, I was that
girl!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The terrors of the bus didn’t disappear, but I had
found a hiding place. Each time after that, when I opened the pages of a book, I
found my life filled with excitement. That was the year I read my first mystery,
one about the Bobbsey Twins. In another year or two came Nancy Drew. And when I
was eighteen I discovered Agatha Christie and I was a goner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">What I'm reading now:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">If I’m able to give my readers even an ounce of the
pleasure that I have received from other authors, then I will have made Miss
Hinkle proud.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-68230115745803035532016-07-09T01:00:00.000-05:002016-07-09T01:00:21.373-05:00Technically Challengedby June Shaw<br />
<br />
<br />
This is for all of us who were born technically challenged. I mean, Bob tells my sons not to use mechanical equipment--like a wheel barrel. <br />
<br />
When computers became the thing (okay, I have to admit the first one was in our local college, and it took up two walls and was kept in a cold, locked room--but we could see it through all the windows), I said whoever knew how to work that thing was certainly brilliant. (Hint: I should have known then it wasn't going to be me.)<br />
<br />
Fast forward awhile, and computers changed. They grew smaller, did not need to be kept in really cold conditions, and a few businesses had them. <br />
<br />
"I think it's great that my children will probably learn how to use one of those things when they're in college," I'd tell everyone, so glad I would never have to go through that immense learning curve. After all, I'd given birth to five children, completed a B.A. plus in college, and began teaching whatever from my school's textbooks. There was one computer, and it was in the office, and as a lowly English teacher, I certainly did not learn to use it. (Remember the wheel barrel?)<br />
<br />
Okay, but I did want to become a writer. I wanted to write novels, and yes, I had paper and a typewriter that usually worked, but did not have much extra time. <br />
<br />
Getting to the point: Yes, I learned the basics of using a computer, which is so much easier to work with than a typewriter (but not the paper and pen), and I'm thrilled that I know what I do. I've written a number of books--maybe nine or ten--and they all come out of a computer until they come out in print or as e-books.<br />
<br />
<br />
So why can't I use this blog? I'm on it with a number of great mystery authors who post regularly when they're supposed to, but my posts? Sometimes I think I've gotten one written and scheduled to show, and a week later I discover nope, that didn't happen. Now I'm trying again. I hope you'll all cheer for things to work out for me this time because, okay, I am better than a wheel barrel (although I do not want to use one.) <br />
<br />
Am I the only one technically challenged? Gosh, one of my sons teaches computer usage to a group of people who work with him and one of my grandsons writes programs.<br />
<br />
Please tell me some other person like me is out there. Thank you.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.juneshaw.com/">www.juneshaw.com</a><br />
<br />
<br />June Shawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11634658458716422436noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-85677108796296982342016-07-06T19:31:00.003-05:002016-07-06T19:34:12.506-05:00Don't blame the author!by <a href="http://www.caroladunn.weebly.com/" target="_blank">Carola</a><br />
<br />
I'm in the middle of checking the galleys (known these days as First Pass Pages) for the third of my Daisy Dalrymple mysteries, <i>Requiem for a Mezzo</i>. It's going to be reissued with new artwork next January. <br />
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The process involves re-typesetting the text. I'm very glad I've been given a chance to go over it. You wouldn't believe how many fresh errors have crept in. There are letters missing from the middle of words; letters replaced with a different one; transpositions; and even one four-word phrase printed twice consecutively.<br />
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Last week I was checking the first pass pages of <i>Buried in the Country</i>, my fourth Cornish mystery, due out in December.<br />
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The manuscript went through my own final edit before sending it off, my editor's reading, the copyeditor's reading, my reading and editing of the copyeditor's corrections and suggestions, and then typesetting. The result was--not unexpectedly--considerably worse than <i>Requiem</i>'s. Besides a few things all the editing eyes had missed, I found the horrid results of the typesetter's trying to make sense of my red-pencil changes to the copyeditor's brown-pencil changes. But as well as those, there were several introduced errors such as missing letters (as for was, offical for official), a name not capitalized, and oddest of all, scotch for splotch!<br />
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I hope I caught everything, but I wouldn't swear to it. Nor can I be certain that my corrections will make it correctly into print.<br />
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It's a complicated business going from a .doc file to a book. If the end result isn't perfect, don't blame the author!<br />
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<br />Carola Dunnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16796872169346386593noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-7813656253419741562016-06-30T22:16:00.000-05:002016-06-30T22:16:09.212-05:00<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W2ee35mTfXc/V2bOC_bcSpI/AAAAAAAAHsY/ky8ImxdvUM4maNH9YMWCVFd1CzXs8Ke0QCLcB/s1600/AuthorPhotoNewest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W2ee35mTfXc/V2bOC_bcSpI/AAAAAAAAHsY/ky8ImxdvUM4maNH9YMWCVFd1CzXs8Ke0QCLcB/s320/AuthorPhotoNewest.jpg" width="252" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A guest blog</span> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">by </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Marja McGraw</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jean asked me what inspired the personalities in the book, and this is the short version.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">One of my favorite authors, Dorothy Bodoin, and I discussed that we’d both like to try our skills on a time travel book. Further inspired by two songs, <i>Time in a Bottle</i> by Jim Croce, and <i>That Sunday, That Summer</i> as sung by Natalie Cole, I took a step out in faith. I could do this, or at least I’d try my best to write a time travel story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I thought about people I know and how they might react to life if they lived in another time period; specifically, 1909. Honestly, I have no idea what led me to choose that year. I remembered older people I’ve known throughout my life. They loved to share stories about growing up in an earlier era. Somehow it all came together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The main character in <i>Choosing One Moment</i> is Carrie McFerrin. I had to give her a lot of thought and determined she <i>must</i> be a mystery writer whose skills someone wanted to put to use. There had to be a purpose for her time travel. Is she based on me? Not at all. Well, she is a bit clumsy, and that’s a trait we share.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">She traveled to 1909 as the request of her great-aunt Genny, who’d traveled before her. I might add that Carrie didn’t travel willingly. Genny reminds me a bit of my own aunt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My husband inspired more than one character because of the many sides to his personality (the good guys). <i>Inspired</i> is the key word. The world needs good men, and he was one of them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The book includes an aged woman called Mother Possum. When I was a child there was a woman in her nineties who was called Mother Possum, and I’ve never forgotten her. The name alone made her fodder for a character. And, yes, her surname was actually Possum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I could go through character by character, but that would be too time-consuming. In my other mysteries, the people are purely fictional, for the most part. I can’t explain it, but this time travel story felt more personal. It begged for personalities that I’m familiar with and people who have played a role in my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yes, the characters are fictional, but they’re inspired by the best, and the worst (don’t forget the bad guys). And remember, there’s a killer on the loose in the fictional town of Little Creek.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">One last thought, and that’s that an old crank phone hangs in my guest room. It was begging to be in a story. I couldn’t resist. It’s a link to the past.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jean also asked about research for the story. As I mentioned, I grew up hearing stories related by elderly people. Those led me to read old newspaper articles, books about the time period, research (and images) of clothing in and around 1909, and anything else I could lay my hands on. The fact that people from that time period didn’t have the amenities we have today played a large part, too. Can you imagine what they might think if they saw today’s appliances, cell phones, cars or jetliners? What about a microwave oven or a dishwasher? A man on the moon? They’d probably laugh at at that idea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ah, the differences are too many to think about. If we traveled in time, imagine what it would be like to suddenly have things that we take for granted disappear from our lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thank you, Jean, for allowing me to give a little background on <i>Choosing One Moment – A Time Travel Mystery</i>. It was an experience I enjoyed, and I think readers will, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">About the story:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mystery writer Carrie McFerrin has inherited an old family house and all of its contents from her Great Aunt Genny.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">While taking inventory of the attic contents, she comes across an old wooden crank telephone. Thinking the old phone would look perfect in her vintage kitchen, she hangs it on the wall by the back door, and an old, yellowed piece of paper asking for help falls to the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The impossible happens when the disconnected old phone rings – three rings, a pause, and three more rings.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Carrie picks up the receiver, wondering what’s going on, and her life suddenly changes – forever.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Nothing will ever be the same.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Author Bio:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My friend Marja McGraw was born and raised in Southern California. She worked in both civil and criminal law, state transportation, and a city building department. She has lived and worked in California, Nevada, Oregon, Alaska and Arizona.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">She wrote a weekly column for a small town newspaper in Northern Nevada, and conducted a Writers’ Support Group in Northern Arizona. A past member of Sisters in Crime (SinC), she was also the Editor for the SinC-Internet Newsletter for a year and a half.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Marja writes two mystery series: The Sandi Webster Mysteries and The Bogey Man Mysteries, which are light reading with a touch of humor. She also occasionally writes stories that aren’t part of a series.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Marja says that each of her mysteries contains <i>a little humor, a little romance and</i> <i>A Little</i> <i>Murder!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">She now lives in Washington, where life is <i>good</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Buy Link: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_8?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=marja+mcgraw&sprefix=Marja+Mc%2Caps%2C361">https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_8?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=marja+mcgraw&sprefix=Marja+Mc%2Caps%2C361</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Website: <a href="http://www.marjamcgraw.com/">http://www.marjamcgraw.com/</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Blog: <a href="http://marjamcgraw.blogspot.com/">http://marjamcgraw.blogspot.com/</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Jean Henry Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08146960738692672013noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-22770327264822337362016-06-23T00:00:00.000-05:002016-06-23T00:00:34.331-05:00THAT TIME BETWEEN BOOKS<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">by Jackie King</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">I’ve come to that wonderful/dreadful time between books that every author must face. I use antonyms to describe
how I feel, and both fit. I’m <i>excited</i> about brainstorming new story ideas.
I’m <i>fearful</i> that I’ll never be able to pull </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 48px;">together the plot for </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">another complete novel . (I
always have this angst before I find an idea I like.) I’m <i>eager </i>to send out my
latest book to readers. I’m <i>reluctant </i>to send out my latest book. What if the
world of readers find my “child” ugly and uninteresting?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Did I mention
that writers are sometimes a bit neurotic? Insecure? Apprehensive? We’re also
curious, eager, and interested. Who else would choose to earn money by sitting
alone in front of a terrifyingly blank computer screen?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Okay. That’s
enough angst for now. That emotion will reappear at three in the morning to haunt me. Now it's time to plan promotion for the finished product and brainstorm plot ideas for the
upcoming project. I love this. I hate this. Grrrr…</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The book I’ve
just finished is titled MURDER ON THE EDGE OF NOWHERE, and it’s set in the
Oklahoma Panhandle. The town is fictional, but near the real town of Beaver and
seventy miles from Guymon. The land is flat and the horizons stretch on forever;
to my eyes this view is lovely. A good many people don’t agree. My ex-husband
called it bleak. And it is, but bleak has character—and beauty—and strength.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I was born on
these plains and spent a large amount of my childhood at my grandparent’s farm.
I love the natives who are strong and smart and resilient. My characters are
fictional, but they came alive in my mind in this made-up story.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>First paragraph
from the prologue:</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Everyone has something they
want to hide, but you have more than most.” Christabel Steele flipped her hair
backwards, a thing that she knew mesmerized men and annoyed women. She pictured
her sleek, golden hair fanning in practiced perfection over her right shoulder.
Her quarry’s eyes glazed with fear, and Christabel licked her lips, savoring
the moment. </span><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like an antelope caught in
underbrush, but instead of blood, I’ll taste money.</span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">MURDER ON THE
EDGE OF NOWHERE is a story of a small town where people harbor deadly secrets from their past:
blackmail, child abuse, and murder.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Jackie Kinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16276062715832103428noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6404036170106001374.post-32292754889955439702016-06-17T00:00:00.000-05:002016-06-17T00:00:07.252-05:00Linking the Past to the Present<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">by Jean Henry Mead</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I enjoy research, especially when I can link historical events to the present. So when I came across the Teutonic Knights, a group established in the year 1190, as well as the Heart Mountain internment camp of World War II, I worked them both into my recent release, <em>Mystery of the Black Cross. </em>The Teutonic Knights was formed to establish hospitals and escort pilgrimages to the Baltics and the Holy Land. The organization evolved, however, into anarchist groups, abbreviated ABC, which still support political prisoners worldwide.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">During this seventh Logan and Cafferty novel, my senior women amateur sleuths discover a black cross painted on their front door, which they learn has marked them for arson, murder and terrorism. The police chief and a rogue detective, who considers himself a latter day Don Juan, figure prominently in the plot, which led me to Wyoming's Heart Mountain internment camp for some 14,000 Japanese during WW II.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I made a trip to northern Wyoming to witness the former internment camp, which I consider a concentration camp. Four of the barracks where the internees lived still remain along with a guard tower. The living conditions were deplorable, and I read interviews with some of the people who had lived there, which I included in the book.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When the war ended, each former prisoner was given a train ticket back to the West Coast and $25 to begin a new life. And Cong<span style="font-size: xx-small;">r</span>ess finally decided in 1988 and 1992 to compensate the survivors for the loss of their homes and livelihoods. The state of Wyoming also erected a monument to commemorate those who enlisted from within the camp to serve in the army during the war. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Working both histories into the novel was easier than I had anticipated. I also included some humor and a bit of romance to hopefully balance the seriousness and relevancy to the history we're producing today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mystery of the Black Cross is available at <a href="http://amzn.to/1X63EHE" style="line-height: 24px;">http://amzn.to/1X63EHE</a> in digital and print editions. </span></div>
Jean Henry Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08146960738692672013noreply@blogger.com0