Travels

Let's see---we've already had Halloween posts and posts on Fall colors and food. I'm tempted to write about more Fall food. It's starting to get to me---the desire to make applesauce and pumpkin soups and all sorts of soups. But instead, I'm going to write about visiting friends---oh, and a little about Fall colors.

I've been drinking in Fall colors everywhere I could for the last five weeks: Madison, WI, w/Bouchercon; Northern Indiana while visiting old friends; then Colorado which had turned glorious. Then, I went Back East and drank in the gorgeous colors in CT and Virginia (New York City was still green, strangely). It was wonderful and I revelled in the Fall before returning to Colorado last night.

But---the best thing about the traveling is still seeing friends and family. That's the one thing about this crazy career which is a definite bonus. I get an excuse to visit people I care about around the country that I might not have a chance to see. It's wonderful.

I also got to visit w/Cozy Chicks Laura Durham in WashDC and JB (Jennifer) Stanley in Richmond, VA, while there.

And I'm about to leave again for five days to Lake Tahoe, NV, to a national conference for spinners. I'm not a spinner, but I'm going as a guest and it sounds like lots of fun. I love watching spinners, watching the wheel, watching them spin. I'll be visiting with them and knitting. And---I hope---relaxing. After three weeks of traveling, I could use some relaxation.

The Cake Walk

I know, I know. I'm late with the post. But I have a good excuse. Sort of. Tomorrow being what it is and all--Halloween, I had some preparations to make today (yes, I procrastinated over the weekend. At least I wrote). Anyway, the Kindergarten class is in charge of the Cake Walk tomorrow. Let me just say that I don't know if all schools are as big on the cake walk as ours is, but apparently everyone in our school bakes a cake and enters the contest and the Kindergarten moms run it. And, it is a major deal. Of course, my Kindergartner wants to win this contest. My darling husband found seveal wonderful photos on the web of haunted houses and cemetary cakes, etc., and said "Now this looks good. You guys should make this one." Yeah, right, hon--last time I checked I wasn't Martha Stewart. See, I can write all day long. I can even come up with five different story ideas in a day. I can direct the lives of nine different characters at any given time. And, I can even bake a damn good cake. No problem, but decorate it? Ha, ha, ha. Sorry, not my strong point. I'm the lady who bakes a cake and slaps on the frosting and viola! No pretty flowers, no sprinkles. Nada. You're lucky if your name (B-Day cake) doesn't look like an alien wrote it.

Anyway, I went on a cake mold hunt thinking that it might make this project easier if I could find a Halloween type mold. I did. A pumpkin cake mold. Perfect! Not! My husband sees the pumpkin and says, "You're not going to win with that." He is so not on my "I like you list" right now. "You gotta be creative." Okay, well, my daughter gets out some drawing paper and makes a cemetery scene. I start thinking--yeah! We can put the ginormous pumpkin cake on a flat pan, cover it with green frosting (uh, huh--pumpkin patch; you with me?) take some of those Milano cookies and make headstones. I took it a step further and got gummy worms that we can have crawling out of the now-not-a-pumpkin, but a scary jack o' lantern cake. We got the candy corn for his teeth and some other worm looking candy that my boys have already tried to confiscate (sour worms--gross!).

The cake is baking right now as I write, and I am gearing up for an eve of decorating with my ever-so-excited five-year-old. Wish us luck! Anyone else doing anything out of their norm for Halloween, or any special traditions you do? Have? Share, please! And, does anyone have an easy concept for a cake for next year?

Cheers,
Michele

As American as hazelnut souffle?

I know this is not a pressing issue or even one that merits lengthy debate, but I miss apple pie. Not apple tartin or apple crepes. Regular old apple pie.

The last few restaurants I've been to have had dessert menus that feature such culinary delights as hazelnut beignets, lemon-rosemary sorbet, and pumpkin crème brulee. All lovely and adventurous options, I'll admit. But none are comforting.

I miss apple pie and peach cobbler. Real wholesome desserts that make you want to lick the plate, not take a picture of the impressive presentation. I can appreciate a cherry blossom branch made out of chocolate but I don't get cravings for them.

And I also miss regular wedding cake. The trend now seems to be toward exotic flavors like papaya, mango and passion fruit. I've even had rosemary-infused icings! What happened to a rich, yellow cake with a classic butter cream? Or a yummy chocolate cake without five different types of fillings and glazes? I did a wedding not too long ago where the bride served peach cobbler on her dessert buffet and the guests couldn't get enough of it. Forget the truffles and petit fours. These black-tie guests were happily chowing down on huge bowls of cobbler.

Maybe the cooler weather makes me long for comfort food of all kinds, dessert included. Or maybe my cravings go a bit deeper. Just maybe I miss simpler times and simpler food when everything didn't have to impress. Back when wedding cake was white and you could actually get a piece of apple pie at a restaurant.

Little Town, Large-Hearted Ladies

I had a great experience yesterday that made me especially grateful to be doing what I’m doing. It was rainy and gray – a day more suited to London than to Richmond – as I drove south to attend a library talk and signing.

I’ve always liked living on the edge of country. By that I mean that I want all the convenience of a suburban lifestyle but still be within twenty minutes of a herd of cows. Anyway, on Friday morning I was happily cruising down a two-lane highway past fields of all sorts of hoofed animals (including llamas) on my way to a tiny town called Victoria.

The town was small with a small library. The crowd gathered to hang out with me was small too, but I didn’t care. I love these intimate meetings where I can pull up a chair, ask the ladies to move a little closer, and pass out some cookies. I talked a bit about myself and my books, answered some questions, and then sold some books. Next came my favorite part: the informal chatter with one interesting woman after another. This is when writers really learn about the readers – who connects with your character, who has a completed manuscript at home and wants to know what her next step should be, who understands the demands of juggling a career and motherhood – you get my drift.

I drove home high on the experience. It happens every time I meet a group of strangers that I will regard a mere thirty minutes later as new friends. I really love when one of them emails me days or months after we first met, and we stay in touch, just as I had hoped we would.

These types of days remind me of how wonderful women are at sharing our stories with one another. We’re like walking scrapbooks. Thank goodness for us and now I see that it’s wonder our history books were all so dry. Not enough women writers documenting their stories back then! Now times have changed and we’re filling up the bookstore and library shelves. This may sound like a Virginia Slims blog, but that’s cool. Look at the mystery section – we’ve come a long way, baby!

Going, Going, Gone

Well, it's 8:20 here in Cincinnati and I'm due to leave the house at 8:30 for the Magna Cum Murder conference in Muncie, IN. I had grand plans to somehow fit writing a blog into my morning schedule, but I had to confess it lost out to the hot rollers. So, my apologies. I'll be back next week, though.

And if anyone has tips for procrastination, please post them. Don't be shy. I need all the help I can get. Or maybe I need medication. Or maybe both...

Okay, now it's 8:23. Gotta run!

Another quick one...

Well, my laptop died.

AGAIN.

Grrr.

Thank goodness my dad lent me an old Dell laptop while my Mac is somewhere in California being rehabilitated. Speaking of California and rehabilitation, is there some kind of wine spa there, Michele? Can I check myself in?

But back to my computer problems. I had to create a hotmail account and e-mail my work-in-progress to myself. And since my dad's computer doesn't recognize my wireless network at home, I have to go to Starbucks and pay six bucks to log on! Let's just hope his computer doesn't go belly-up and lose all my work! (I am, however, eternally grateful for the loaner -- without it, I'd be a few thousand words behind.)

I promise I'll be posting more next week, but this chair is a foot tall and my knees are hitting the keyboard tray, so I'm going to sign off now. Time to put the kiddos to bed; my daughter has a four-day weekend (grr), so I'll get precious little writing done. Oh, and early dismissal Tuesday.

*sigh*

Chianti, take me away.... ;)

Grass Roots Marketing

Michele's post yesterday inspired me. The subject of "grass roots" marketing is important enough to discuss even more. In fact, maybe each one of the Cozy Chicks can join in.

As Michele said, grass roots marketing is building that readership one reader at a time. Yeah, it sounds slow, but it's really powerful. Because it spreads by word of mouth and that means reader loyalty. If someone likes your book and tells someone else, that's a powerful recommendation. Much stronger than a book review by some faceless, unknown reviewer (unknown to the reader, that is).

We all take personal recommendations all the time---on the cars we drive, the cafes we frequent, the movies we see. And for the books we read.

That's why I like to do book clubs and library book talks and talks to business clubs, etc. Every time we visit a new group, there are some potential new readers there. Not everyone there will like your books, but others will. Plus, I love meeting new people, so it's fun for me. I actually enjoy meeting strangers.

And ---- we have to think outside the box, too. Charity fundraisers are another good opportunity to meet and build readership. I always donate books to charity groups for auctions to raise money for their good causes. It's a GOOD thing to do, and it's a SMART thing to do. There are potential readers in every one of those groups.

Last June, for instance, I was contacted by a local volunteer organization in Fort Collins that wanted me to participate in their yearly fundraiser. They asked if I'd be interested in coming and signing and donating some proceeds to their cause. I said "yes" before they even told me the name of their event: Books 'n Beer. One of our local microbreweries hosted the event.

What a great idea----people in the community came out and paid a modest fee for picnic food and beer on the brewery's lovely grounds, bought items in their silent auction, and----visited with me and bought signed books. It was a win-win for everyone involved. And---a whole lot of fun.

Word of Mouth

I have done quite a bit of marketing with my books--some if has worked, some of it hasn't. I'm always being asked what works best. I've taken out ads, done book signings at wine shops and bookstores, run sweepstakes, etc. The bottom line as we've mentioned here before is that regardless of what is spent on marketing--the book still must be a good one. And, I think this leads me into what is probably still the most effective way to get a book "out there." It is not necessarily the fastest way, but I think it's what works, and that is grass roots, word of mouth marketing.

The way I do it is by making myself available to local book clubs. When I speak at women's clubs, I always let them know that if anyone has a book club that I would love to come and meet with them. This usually generates someone calling me up or e-mailing me within a month and asking me to join them. It's great because these book clubbers tend to make excellent food! I went to one last week and each clubber made a recipe from Murder Uncorked! It is a lot of fun and what tends to happen is that readers start to spread the word about the books because I am open to coming and spending an evening talking about the books and eating their good food (tough job). It may only be ten book in a group, but my feeling is that even if only one of the readers tells one other person, who knows how many people that person will tell. So, it's never a losing situation, because every book sold is hopefully another reader gained. And, with a series (with any books really) it's vital to get that type of loyalty from your readers. So, if you want to know what I think works the best as far as marketing goes, then I suppose I do have an opinion--a willingness to meet and talk to readers, which in turn can cause a word of mouth campaign that may start small but hopefully catches on and spreads like crazy!

Life is Good

Have you ever seen those car stickers or T-shirts with the slogan reading Life is Good? I’ve always admired them from afar, but would never buy one. To me, it would seem too much like tempting fate.

However, I was lucky enough to be able to leave my two little ones at home with the hubby yesterday while I played hooky and drove west into the glory of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Everything about the day was perfect. Sun streamed through trees so vibrant with crimson and tangerine colors that the hillsides looked like a wet oil painting. My destination was a tiny antique store in a tiny town composed of a general store and a post office. I bought the piece of furniture I had gone to see and headed to a nearby truck stop for lunch.

This place was a book setting if I ever saw one! The hall leading to the eating area was lined with wall cases containing the owner’s massive knife and gun collection. There were enough weapons in there to take out the entire MWA list! The hallways opened up to a large dining room, which was for smokers only. The non-smokers were requested to hide out in a cave-like setting off to the side. In this little cozy and rather dark nook, I tossed aside my low-carb diet and had three sumptuous blueberry pancakes drenched in hot butter and warm maple syrup. I had bacon so thick and fresh that the hog must have been tied up out back up until my meal ticket was presented to the cooks in the kitchen. The eggs tasted like…real eggs. Man, I was full. Man, I was happy.

I filled up my pink breast cancer awareness coffee cup and got back on 81 North. Despite the fact that I had been driving through the fall splendor all day, I pulled off at a scenic lookout spot, which was packed with other smiling and friendly travelers with license plates from New Mexico to Michigan, and stared. I looked out at that sea of hues, at the sun-filled sky, and around at my fellow man, and I thought, Life IS Good. I understood the slogan completely and I was deeply grateful for being granted that one day to recharge my spirit.

Did you do anything this weekend that made you feel that life is good?

All Dolled Up

I had a blast from the past this past week. One that made me wish for the first time my daughter still played with dolls.

Why?

Because American Greetings has brought back Holly Hobbie and her friends, created new videos and assorted games. Sure Holly’s been updated—gone are her braids and Little House clothes, but those dark eyes, rounded cheeks and happy smile are still the same.

One of my earliest memories is getting a Holly Hobbie vanity as a present. I used it all the time, feeling quite proud of myself for being so grown up as to need a vanity. It had a an image of Holly Hobby with her long blonde pigtails, floppy hat, and country clothes, with an oval mirror and a drawer or two—everything a little girl could want for all her doodads. I seem to remember having a Holly Hobbie sleeping bag, too, but that could just be wishful thinking.

There was just special something about that Holly. Something sweet and endearing, unlike, say, Barbie.

Looking back, Holly Hobbie with her prairie hat, long skirt was a reflection of a simpler time, wholesome and honest. She was a role model that let little girls be little girls.

I hope the new one does the same for little girls of this generation. Because they need it—and more dolls of the same.

~heather

P.S. Has anyone seen the new Barbie’s new dog Tanner? I saw a commercial for a couple of weeks ago and couldn’t believe my eyes. Tanner well, does what doggies do, and the gimmick? Barbie has a flashy pooper-scooper to clean up after him.

Say it with me: Ewww.

Pot roast weather... finally!

Well, for all of you who caught me grousing about the weather last week, break out the hot mulled cider and toasty slippers. I am happy to report that a REAL cold front came through last night, and... (drumroll here...) I got to wear sweatpants today.

Yes, that's right.

Actual sweatpants!

According to my car thermometer, it was 56 degrees when I dropped child number two off this morning. Now for those of you who consider 56 degrees something of an Indian Summer, let me remind you that it's been in the 90s the last few weeks; the temperature change was so drastic that when I went out to get the paper this morning, I had to look around to make sure someone hadn't relocated the house to Alaska.

So I went for a lovely, slightly chilly walk, which put me instantly into full Fall mode. (I went home, defrosted a chuck roast, and tossed it into the crockpot, and spent more than I care to recall on a big bunch of bittersweet, fancy pumpkins, and about a billion oddly shaped gourds. And apple cider, of course.)

But as it does each year, the cold weather caught me unprepared.

You see, every October, a day like this finally comes along, and I have to bypass my son's shorts drawer and look for something that will extend past his knees. (Actual pants-wearing occurs so rarely here that it was only six months ago Ian discovered that pants are not called 'long shorts'.) After several tries, I found a pair that not only buttoned, but fell a mere two inches above his ankles.

But the battle wasn't over yet. I still had footwear to deal with. My options? Squeeze his tootsies into last year's sneakers, or put him into the only pair of shoes that fits. In other words, sandals. (To his credit, my son refuses to wear them with white athletic socks, despite his mother's attempts at coercion.)

All I can say is, thank God I bought him a fleece jacket in Maine this summer.

Needless to say, we will be repairing to Target or the mall this weekend to buy another pair of sneakers. And some pants that fall somewhere below mid-calf. I know everything we buy will only be worn about 12 times, but at least I'll be less likely to receive the "Worst Mother of the Year Award."

Of course, once it gets out that I let him sleep in his clothes (the ones he wore all day) and only change him into new clothes when we're actually sitting in the parking lot of his school the next morning, all bets are off...

Tough Choices

My eight-year old niece was recently explaining to me how to play some arcane game called Applesauce Dumpling. This is a child who can follow the intricacies of Yugi-O Dueling; needless to say, her gaming skills are more advanced than mine. Anyway, after she painstakingly reviewed concept and strategy with me, she gave a jolly and knowing little laugh and said (much as would Obi Wan to Luke S.), "Of course if everyone else is going to cheat, you may as well too."

Now if you're waiting for some wise and heartwarming story of how I steered that beloved little tyke straight, you're in for a disappointment. I burst out laughing and said, "Em, you little nut. Where'd you go to kindergarten, Gamblers Anonymous?"

But, overall, I think I'm a pretty good aunt. It's weird to be an aunt and not a mother--especially because I always assumed that I would have children. But choices are made along the way and things turn out differently than we would expect. This was brought home to me this weekend at a music festival where I was performing. Three people asked me about my non-existent children. Not in an offensive or hurtful way, simply assuming that I had a couple of them.

And so I've been thinking about some of the choices I've made.

The autumn always seems like a time of reflection and reevaluation to me--maybe because I'm an autumn baby. I get to the golden season and I start taking stock, recalculating where I am versus where I thought I would be right about now. And, for the most part, the only things I regret were the things I did that hurt others. Not every decision I made was a wise one and not everything turned out as anticipated, but generally I'm pretty happy with both my personal and professional lives.

Now it seems to me that I'm coming up fast on having to make a lot of tough decisions about my writing career. And for the first time in my life I'm conscious that I need to choose wisely because I'm at a point where it would not be easy or painless to start over. It's the first time I've felt this way, and I realize that I have reached my own personal autumn.

I don't want to carry the metaphor too far--and winter is a long way off--but I do feel that I have achieved many of the things that I struggled for. And there is a certain mellow warmth that comes with that knowledge. But it's not enough. And to get to where I want to be, I can see that I have to stretch myself and take a few risks.

That's not really one of the things they teach you in writing books or at conferences--generally all the focus is on landing an agent and getting that first book published. No one actually tells you that your troubles end there, but there's a temptation to believe it, since those two goals tend to be tough ones to reach. The shattering truth is most aspiring writers don't reach them.

And if you are lucky enough to clear that first hurdle, gather yourself for the next three jumps--and a possible water feature. Because series' get dropped and other books get rejected and the time may even come when you have to cut your losses and strike out into new territory. Alone.

Tough choices for tough times. But there's a kind of relief in making your mind up to start fresh. The important thing to remember is that every choice we make along the way, counts. Everything in the past adds up to where you find yourself in the present, and so it's important to make careful choices from the very first. Not that these will save you from having to make tough choices in the end, but if you get in the habit of being tough-minded about your career, straight-thinking comes a little easier when you need it the most.

The first agent who shows interest and the first contract that comes your way may not be the best ones for you. (And, by the way, self-publishing is not your only alternative.) I know that's hard to believe when you're working so hard to interest any agent or publisher. It's true, though. Look before you leap--and I don't mean, look for an easy landing spot, I mean look further down the road. Look as far into the distance as you can possibly see.

That's my career advice to you--and frankly, I think it's good advice for your personal life as well. However, when it comes to playing Applesauce Dumpling with my niece, you're on your own.

Fall Colors

I love Fall. I love the trees turning golden and orange and flame-red and the bushes going from green to crimson as the nights turn chillier and chillier. In Colorado this year, we got our "regular" Fall cool weather mid-September, which startled the heck out of some of us. Why? Because those awful hot drought years had messed with our Fall weather for the past six years so that we were having 80 degrees thru September and October and often way into November. Now, that's just not right. Sept, sure. October, yeah it's nice, but November is pushing it.

So--I was happy to see that weird drought weather disappear from Colorado last year and bring yards and yards of snow to the High Country and cold to the rest of us. And chilly Septembers again. The trade-off is gorgeous, awesome colors. Golden and orange aspens and maples----oh, the maples. Reds of every descriptions-----fire-engine red, scarlet red, crimson red, and burgundy red---alll mixed with shades of green. Glorious altogether, as the Irish would say. We didn't used to have all those red maple trees back in the 1980's when I first came to Colorado. But I think the horticulturists at the universities (like our hometown Colorado State University) have developed new species of maples by grafting (I think that's the technique), and the trees are living proof of their successes.

In between my return from Bouchercon mystery conference and my trip to Indiana & Chicago areas, I had a sparse six days at home before I left for Back East (where I am now) for three weeks. So----I drank in the color around me every day I was at home. I inhaled the colors as I drove around town. I even drove into Rocky Mtn National park the Sunday before coming on this trip so I could see the last of the colors and hear the elk bugle. I figured all the leaves would be gone and on the ground by the time I returned on October 30th.

And----it's a good thing I did. Imagine my surprise when I arrived in New York City and found that due to the warm Fall, all the trees were still green. Wow. At lease, when I was in CT for a day and half for a signing in Fairfield about a third of the trees had changed. And they were gorgeous----reds, oranges, and golds.

This Wednesday, I'll be off to Washington, DC area and Northern Virginia for more signings, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they've had some cool nights. I want more colors.

Philosophy for a Monday Morning

So, I may be going out on a limb today for some of you. I warn you that today I may be too philosphical, and maybe a bit esoteric for some. I know this blog is lighthearted, so I debated on what I would blog about today for some time, but this topic has been kind of banging me over the head all weekend. It's this idea that nothing happens by coincidence, and I will even go a step further and say that everything that happens to us and around us comes from something bigger than us. I am not going to get on a kick about religion. I respect all faiths and belive that a choice in religion is deeply personal. What I want to say here is what I think is a basically simple truth--there is something larger than us at work in out world, universe, etc. I don't think the label you put on it matters too much--it could be called The Holy Spirit (my personal term), quantam physics and energy (see "Where In the Bleep and "The Secret"), God, Higher Self, whatever, but the fact is that we are co-creating on a day to day basis with this Source. More and more I am convinvced that what we focus on, we receive. The universe makes no judgement on what it is your focus is placed on. It only allows our focus to become our reality. People often ask me how I became a writer. Well, there are the stand bys--I wrote a lot, sent work out a lot, etc. But, I think more than that--I always knew in my gut and I never doubted that I would not be a published author. Not once did I doubt it. Okay, maybe a little--and when I look at that, those doubts, I think that is probably why it took me so long--I resisted. It was when I was in that place of knowing and focus that things started to happen for me. I think that I had some help from something bigger than me--a Source guiding me and walking with me on this journey. I like to believe that when I put something out there (whether it comes in the form of a thought or I speak it) that it's a done deal. I visualize it being done. It's complete. I can then let it go. The life part, or the really intersting part (I suppose it's what I call the journey) is seeing how it is comes about in my life. How does this thing that I have asked for manifest itself? It doesn't always happen in the way I thought it might. In fact, it typically never does, but it happens in the way that I believe it is supposed to. It happens in the way that benefits my family and me and those around us in the most powerful of ways.

I hope this all makes senes, and if it doesn't you can write me or tell yourself, "That Michele is a whackadoo." But it is what I believe and feel in my heart and it works for me.

What are your personal beliefs about dreams and reality? God, or Higher Self? Does anyone else use visualization or see it as "being done," before it's reached you?

Thanks for "listening" to my ramblings.

Michele

Let's talk about. . .

Well, it's finally happened. I now have a wedding story to rival the tale my caterer friend tells of catching a groom in a closet (during his wedding reception) with a waiter (not waitress, mind you). Previously, my wedding drama has involved more mile calamities like purse dogs piddling on place card tables. That was before yesterday's wedding when my assistant and I walked in on the rabbi in a state of undress. He wasn't just changing outfits and he wasn't alone. And, yes, he was still wearing his yarmulke.

I don't know if I was so shocked because he was a rabbi or because he'd just finished performing a solemn and rather moving wedding ceremony or that he and his wife couldn't wait a few hours until they got home (I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt and assuming that she was his wife). Maybe I'm just old fashioned. I think that if the bride and groom can manage to keep their hands off each other until the end of the reception, then everyone else should, too.

I have to admit that I see a lot of strange things being a wedding planner. Emotions run high, people get drunk and brides aren't always the most rational human beings. I've seen guests pass out, groomsmen crack their head open dancing "the worm," and first wives and new wives come to blows. But until yesterday, I'd never actually walked in on a couple in flagrante delicto. The fact that it was the rabbi still has me reeling. I guess I should just count my lucky stars that he wasn't with the groom.

Animal Lover...Maybe

I’m an animal lover. With the exception of caterpillars, which I fear due to repeated childhood nightmares where they streamed into my window and crawled all over my body, I avoid hurting even the creepiest spider. I let wasps trapped inside the house back out to build their nests in my garage, pretend that the gross-looking beetle that somehow found its way into the family room is harmless, and even rescue all sorts of small rodents and birds from the greedy paws of my cats.

However, when I went out to get the mail the other day, I practically fell down to the earth’s core after inadvertently stepping onto a molehill. Suddenly, I saw signs of tunneling all over the lawn. The amount of money I had spent on milky spore, thumpers from Costco, and any other humane treatment to rid myself of these pesky creatures made me see red. No, not red. Pink. I was reminded of a terrible method for disposing of moles and voles: sticking chewed pieces of bubble gum into their tunnels. The hapless critters choke on the gum.

Tempted though I was, I simply could not perform such an act of cruelty. In any case, I don’t have any gum at home-just some of those tasty Life Savers Crème Swirls. I popped one in my mouth, sat on the porch swing, and decided that my lawn looked pretty good, despite the burrowing occurring below the surface. My son, Owen, soon joined me outside and began chasing a squirrel all around the yard. I thought, no way those moles can hang out with a three-year-old in their ‘hood and I quickly forgot about them.

Early this morning, and I mean the 3 a.m.-it’s-still-dark-and-I-am-still-asleep part of the morning, I hear my youngest cat, Finnegan, batting something around my bedroom. My husband is out of town and I know that I’m going to have to turn on the light and see what it is. Finnegan’s name suits him perfectly. It’s Irish for Blonde Warrior and that cat is the most incredible hunter I’ve ever seen. He brings his kills home to me and I praise him and throw them into the garden.

When I finally turn on the light, I see that Finnegan has brought me a mole. It’s such a tiny thing. I can’t believe that it could have done any damage to anything, let alone plow through the underbelly of a lawn.

So I stumbled downstairs, tossed the carcass outside and mumbled to the creatures out in the darkness, “Let that be a warning to all of you tunnelers,” but I didn’t really mean it. I took my oldest cat back to bed, grateful that his days of hunting are over.

What’s the worst thing one of your pets has ever brought home to you?

Fictional cold fronts

I live in Texas, but I didn't always. Since I grew up in upstate New York, I have fond memories of Halloween snowmen, Christmas nights in hotels (when the snowplow blocked our driveway during Christmas dinner), and white Easters. I spent more mornings than I can count jumping up and down at the bus stop to keep warm, hoping (a) that the bus would somehow fail in the Herculean task of slogging up the hill and we'd get to go home or (b) that if it did indeed manage to lumber up the hill, it would arrive before my lips froze off. In short, IMMEDIATELY. (I still remember the smell of cold-weather scarf breath. You know, when you've had your mouth burrowed into a length of wool for so long all you can smell is wet, slightly oatmeal-scented sheep?)

Unfortunately, as I'm sure those of you who live in colder climates can empathize with, the stupid bus always made it up the hill. (Fortunately, my lips are still intact.)

(On a side note, here in Austin, if we get 1/4 inch of ice on the bridges, they close down the entire city, then proceed to put so much sand on the overpasses that the highways start looking like Padre beaches. And I can only imagine how many car accidents are caused by drivers skidding over the sand dunes in subsequent weeks.)

I grew up with cold weather. It came early and left late -- it was summer that was always too short.

But now that I'm in Austin, chilly seasons like, say, fall, winter, and spring -- last about three weeks.

Cumulatively.

Which is why everyone in Austin was all atwitter today, digging out our fleeces and waiting for this 'cold front' which would make our temperatures plummet... and I mean plummet... to a high of only 67!

So I sent Ian to school with a fleece. And at 2:45, I picked him up. And his fleece.

It was 92 degrees.

The big 'cold front' dwindled to a bit of breeze and a few drops of rain from the frosty North. It did drop to 75 earlier this evening (brrr!), and there may be some hope for lower temperatures tonight, but I'm not digging out my shearling slippers just yet.

To be honest, though, it may be for the best. I am raising Southern children. When the morning temps drop below 70, my son asks if it will snow and then chastises me for not bundling him up in a parka.

Seriously.

So if you're in cold and apple country, bundle up in a sweater (I bought some yesterday -- hope springs eternal), mull up some cider, and think of me sweating in my tank top.

And send some of that cold weather SOUTH!

With Two You Get Egg Roll

Mr. Thrilling and I are on a quest for the perfect Chinese takeout.

I love Chinese food.

I love those little white cartons (that most places don't use anymore) and I love chopsticks. Chinese food is so...so...Breakfast at Tiffany's. You know what I mean? When I was a kid I couldn't wait to be a grown up woman living in a cute city apartment and eating dinner by myself out of a little white box....

And it's one of those relatively guilt-free carry-out foods. All those crunchy-tender vegetables and delicate shavings of white meat. The hot and flavorful (and always surprising) soups, which just have to be good for you. It's soup! Plus I'm addicted to MSG.

I love the romance of Chinese restaurants--yes, I know. Too many viewings of LADY FROM SHANGHAI. But I love walking through towering red lacquer doors or past giant-sized bronze lion-dogs (who always look like they have indigestion) and settling down to third-degree burns from boiling hot green tea, and a leisurely browse of a menu of exotic items like Shark Fin or Bird's Nest Soup or Thousand Year-old Egg. Okay, personally, my idea of exotic is shrimp in lobster sauce, but it's about the options, baby.

But takeout is a different thing entirely. For one thing there are no drinks with umbrellas to distract you from the business at hand--namely the food itself. Takeout has to be good.

Not long after Mr. Thrilling arrived from the snowy hinterland of his birth we discovered a wonderful little Chinese restaurant. Actually "restaurant" is the wrong word, because no reasonable person would have chosen to sit in those excruciating hard plastic space chairs under that glaring fluorescent light and try to eat. Obviously the place was designed for takeout. Or interrogation. We chose takeout. What the Rice Bowl--yes, the name was as humble as the surroundings--lacked was a delivery service.

They advertised delivery, but...

Part of the problem was that no one at the Rice Bowl spoke English. So when I would try and give directions, we would run into that Failure to Communicate thing. Big Time.

"Rowan Court....two words. R-o-w-a...R...as in Robert. Robert, right. NO. The street is called Rowan Court. You know, like...a-a rowan tree. Not an orange tree. Yes, we are in Palmdale! Right down the street from you..."

On and on and on and on--with Mr. Thrilling laughing himself sick in the background.

The other problem was that the Rice Bowl only took cash. No credit cards (and even they weren't crazy enough to take checks). Having to plan ahead sort of takes the fun out of delivery--I mean, if I wanted to plan, I'd just go and get the food myself.

Then, the final blow. They stopped offering delivery service. Not that I blame them. They probably still have employees wandering the backroads of the Leona Valley looking for Orange Court.

Needless to say the Rice Bowl didn't last more than a year. They were replaced by another Chinese place that came and went so fast we didn't even notice them until they were ripping out the counters and carrying away the (suspiciously familiar) hard plastic space chairs.

They were replaced by the Joh's Diner. I know. Don't these people understand that Chinese restaurants are supposed to be called the Golden Dragon or the Jade Garden or the Phoenix Empress?

Joh's takes credit cards but, alas, they don't deliver. Still we were desperate enough last night that Mr. Thrilling made the supreme sacrifice and faced the elements (both of them) to bring home our supper. Chicken chow mein and war won ton soup. Now how hard can that be? It's like asking for grilled cheese sandwich, right? Wrong. Joh's does not do war won ton.

There was a funny moment, however, when Mr. Thrilling (not seeing the soup listed on the menu) inquired, "War Won Ton?"

To which the old lady behind the counter replied, "In back on stove!" Duh!

I kid you not.

Anyway, the won tons should have stayed on the stove a bit longer and somebody should have told Joh that chow mein usually has some vegetables in it. One or two. Just for color. And to keep the lump of noodles company. Everything had way too much ginger and the meat (such as it was) was mostly fat. This doesn't strike horror into the heart of Mr. Thrilling as it does me, but even he agreed Joh's was not a success.

So we are still looking, still hoping to find that perfect Chinese takeout for those nights when you just want to sit home and watch a movie and catch up with each other--and have someone else do the cooking. Like Marco Polo, we're traveling ever further towards the edge of the map--or possibly the menu.

So do you have a favorite Chinese restaurant? What's your favorite Chinese dish? What about the whole Chinese takeout chick mystique? Is it just me?

(Humble apologies for skipping out on my blogging duties last week--I was traveling with limited computer access.)

On the Road Again. . . .

Here I am again, trying to write a coherent post, while I'm running around, trying to get a zillion things done before I "hit the road" again. This time I'm heading Back East on my Freeload on Friends and Family Tour for three weeks.

Late Tuesday night, I fly out on a "redeye" to JFK in New York to stay with my daughter, Melissa, and do several booksigings and other promo stuff, like visiting bookstores, signing stock, talking with booksellers, meeting with my editor and agent. But---I also get to visit with old friends in NY and CT plus--spend time with my daughter. Melissa and I love finding new little cafes around the city, kick back and enjoy a Vodka martini and catch up. Gossip. Talk about jobs and men, dreams, whatever.

After a week, I'll head to Washington, DC, area and Northern Virginia, where--yes---I have another daughter. Christine. Her life is SUPER hectic and believe me, I treasure the times I get with her amid the Chaos. This time it'll be really good wines and cozy Italian restaurants between sports tournaments. And of course---booksignings and booksellers. And---I'll spend a few days with old friends from our shared childhoods in Arlington, VA. Good times. I'll even get a short overnight trip to Richmond, VA, for a booksigning before I fly home.

For any of you bloggers in the East Coast areas who're interested, I'll be signing in New York City and Fairfield, CT, Washington, DC, Vienna, VA, and Richmond, VA. Check out my website for locations and times. www.maggiesefton.com

I love to meet new people, so if you drop by, please introduce yourselves. Meanwhile, I'll be posting from "the road" next week. Hold down the fort, Chicks.

Good News Channel

Okay, is it just me, or do we live in a really bizarre culture? So, I'm listening to my radio show this morning and the talk turns to Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie having diner together last night. And, the commentary goes on and on for fifteen minutes about this, and how are they bff's again? (Sidenote--where did this bff thing come from? Or am I too old or out of the loop to get it?) The talk was all about how thin Nicole Richie is, etc.,and all about why they weren't friends anymore and now why they might be, blah, blah, blah. Then, when I got home and saw that the story was up on the web, I was immediately directed to it. Then, I felt ashamed for watching it. Can I ask--what are these two yung women famous for anyway? Paris is the grand daughter of a famous hottelier and Nicole the daughter of a famous singer. Oh, wait a minute, they did that show The Simple Life! Of course--this is their claim to fame. Oops--I forgot.

Anyway, it is amazing what our culture finds newsworthy and what we are willing to allow into our minds. I was wondering the other day, why there isn't a news channel that only has good news playing on it. It could be called The GoodNews Channel! I believe most of us are wonderful people and I also believe that we each have at least one good news story to tell. Can you imagine what the world would be like, if we all started spreading good news? We could move mountains!!! And, not that Paris and Nicole getting back together to be "bffs" again is bad news. Not at all. I think it's great and everyone needs somebody. But is it all that real? Is it all that important in the grand scheme of things? I'm not here to base on these two women. I think they've done a fine job "creating" their images, etc. However, I would like to start hearing IMPORTANT good news! I want to know about precious babies being born. I want to hear about people falling in love. i want to learn about people who help others, feed others, teach others. I know theses stories are out there, but I want more! Fill up the world with GOOD NEWS! Okay, so now, tell me somethng good! Give me some good news. Some might say that no one cares about those things. However, I disagree. What do you think?

I'll give you a little good news--I just finished my copyedits for SILENCED BY SYRAH and got the manuscript sent back, and that feels damn good! Oh, and my daughter had a wonderful day at school. And, my son told me he loved me, and my other son gave me an awesome hug today. Now, isn't that just GOOD?

Living Backwards

I'm hoping that no one really noticed that I completely forgot to write my blog last Sunday. The problem was that (for once) I didn't have a wedding on Saturday. This would be a good thing, you might think. And, of course, it was. Not having to worry about misplaced veils and moody bridesmaids for one weekend was wonderful. But it did throw off my schedule. I'm just not used to having a free Saturday and I got too comfortable (hence the forgotten blog).

For the past ten plus years, I've worked like a mad woman on Fridays and Saturdays (and sometimes Sundays) and done all my errands during the week. When the rest of the world gets excited about Fridays, I'm mentally gearing up for my hardest days of the week. My neighbors have gotten used to seeing me all dressed up in a black dress and pearls on Saturday mornings but I do feel a bit overdone when the rest of the world is doing yard work in shorts. Everyone else groans about Mondays while I consider them a bit of a breather. It's like living a reverse life. Kind of like a vampire. Not that I'd burst into flames if I did yard work on the weekend, but work with me on this one.

Even my social life is upside down. I never go out on a Friday night (I'm home alphabetizing escort cards and doing inventory of my wedding emergency supplies) and I've missed almost every weekend party, baby shower and family wedding for the past decade. All of my closest friends (and my husband) work in the wedding and event industry because our schedules don't mesh well with non-event people. Of course, the great thing about my friends in the industry is they're available for get-togethers mid-week.

I realized that I've become so used to working on weekends that I don't really know what to do with myself when a free one comes knocking. When I've gone to a mall or grocery store on a weekend, I'm shocked at what madhouses they are. They aren't so crowded on Tuesday mornings, I promise you.

I used to be slightly bitter that I missed out on the usual weekend fun. But now that I've gotten used to my upside down schedule I wouldn't change it for the world. I shop in deserted stores and never have to wait for a table at a restaurant. Now if only I could have cool vampire-like powers, I'd be set.

Cookie Dough & the Blues

Sorry folks, but I’m good and cross today and I’m going to vent a bit in this blog. Today is the launch party for my two latest books, CARBS & CADAVERS, the first in my supper club mystery series, and A FATAL APPRAISAL, the second in my antiques & collectibles series. I should be psyched, right? Two books to celebrate, a group of friends coming by to purchase them and snack on finger foods, and a babysitter watching my youngest child. Things should be perfect.

Here’s where they have gotten rather off-track. First, it has rained for the past 48 hours here in Richmond and the rivers, lakes, and backyard streams will soon be transporting people in miniature arks. The bookstore hosting my launch has a horrible parking lot and on the sunniest days, patrons have to park far away, so I’m worried that new readers won’t show up because they don’t want to get soaked just to see me. The second problem is that I hate the new fashion trends. By that, I mean the skinny jean!

I have always had, ah, healthy-sized thighs. My mom said they were “succulent” when I was a baby. Skinny jeans and I are not ever going to be a match, but I did want to wear something kind of hip tonight. I have tried on scores of clothes in the last few days, and am amazed that at my size (a 12 until I lose the rest of the baby weight) I have been directed to extra-large shirts and given hopeless shrugs by anorexic teen salesgirls whose legs look like two needles poked into a pair of high-heeled boots.

My solutions? I’m wearing a raincoat and a cool scarf covered with skulls. I’ve eaten half of the cookie dough that I was supposed to be bake and serve to the devoted and courageous readers who might show up this afternoon. I’ve also consumed vats, and I really mean vats, of coffee. Now, my hands are shaking and I’m way too full, but the house smells wonderful – like rain, baby powder, and cookies warm from the oven. MY mood may improve yet.

I hope you all discover little spots of light in your day today!

Autumn Germs?

What is it about this time of year and colds?

Everyone in my family is fighting a nasty cold. Two are barking like sea lions, three could give Sneezy a run for his dwarf money. And don’t get me started on the sinus issues.

I’ve been heavily medicated all week and should probably buy stock in Sudafed, Nyquil, and Advil. The pharmacist at the local Walgreens must think I’m a junkie by now. I keep running in there for more meds. Hey, it goes fast when there’re five people taking it!

You’d think I would have stocked up in preparation. Getting a cold as the seasons change happens to us yearly. Every October and every March we’re all sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy-headed messes.

But life goes on. There’s much to do and not enough time to lie in bed with a box of Puffs to watch the People’s Court and recuperate. However, I’m not too stuffed up to notice the beauty right outside my window. Maybe being sick is worth it.

Have a great weekend—I’ll try not to send my germs your way.

The Plot Thickens

Maggie's post on talking to students made me realize that I'd better get ready for my Saturday class. You see, I've bravely volunteered to teach two four-week classes on writing the novel. Brave, indeed. Either that, or soft in the head. :)

The first week of the class, I mainly talked about creating the practice of writing -- making space and time for it, and sticking with it. And I think that's almost the most important part of writing. But, you see, everyone wants to learn how to DO it. So this coming week, we move into stickier territory.

Like plotting.

You see, the thing is, writing is hard to teach. I can't tell you how to plot your novel any more than I can tell you what wallpaper to choose (or not to choose) for your kitchen. But I CAN show you how to go about figuring out how OTHER books work. And that's what you need to do. You need to read a lot of books, take them apart, and consume them -- internalize them -- to understand how they work.

Artists tend to learn by imitating the masters. That doesn't work so well on a literal basis for writers -- after all, typing War and Peace into the computer (if that's considered a masterpiece) seems to me about as exciting as watching paint dry. BUT.... if you took it apart to see what scenes made up the book, and how the author treated the scenes -- what language did he use, how did he open a scene, what was the pacing, what were the conflicts -- and how you might incorporate some of that into your own work -- now, that's helpful.

Last time I tried to show my class how to outline a book. Which can be helpful -- we actually spontaneously plotted one up on the board. Kind of the give the writer a fish kind of thing. This time, I think I'm going to teach them -- or try to teach them -- how to fish for themselves. Particularly since that overall plot needs to translate to actual scenes...

Speaking of which, I'd better get my materials together. Ta for now, and I hope your weeks are going splendidly!

Post-Convention Musings

The big Bouchercon mystery convention finished last Sunday. Three and a half days jampacked with meetings, workshop sessions, meeting fans, and networking with other mystery writers. And, fun. Lots of fun.

I enjoy conferences and conventions, mainly because I love meeting people---old friends, new friends, and people I don't even know who go on to become friends. It's a real high for those of us who like a fast pace. But, it's still draining. So, I try to take little "breaks" to recoup my energies. And, I really don't need to go off into my room away from everyone to do it.

I've discovered that I can sit in the hotel lobby, right in the middle of the "action" so to speak, and relax. I just plop into a comfy chair (or at the end of the couch where two others are involved in coversation), open up my laptop, and quietly check email. Yeah, I know that's not technically relaxing, but it works for me. I'm sitting, reading, writing replies, while all these conversations swirl around me. Sounds weird, but it really is peaceful (if not entirely quiet).

Several minutes (half hour if I'm lucky) of quietly sitting and doing emails or checking Cozy Chicks blog provides a nice "quiet down" period in the midst of conference chaos. And---sometimes a friend you hadn't met yet passes by, sees you, and drops beside you for a brief chat. That's always nice. You might have missed each other otherwise.

To me, that's the main reason I go to mystery conferences and conventions: meeting people. Fellow writers, old friends, and new ones----and mystery fans. I cannot tell you how much fun it is to meet readers. It is a "high" like no other. I love it when they tell me they've read my books and start talking about the characters. I start talking, too, because those characters are REAL to me, and it's so joyful to discover that they're just as real to those folks.

For that, I am overwhelmed and so very, very grateful. Thank you, everyone.

Right now, I'm visiting with old friends in Northwest Indiana near Chicago, which is so nourishing. Relationships with old friends grow more precious over the years, I've found. Yesterday, I also had the opportunity to speak to three classes of university students at the neaby campus of Purdue University--Purdue North Central. What fun that was! I love speaking to students. Their enthusiasm is contagious. Sharing with them is another way to "give back."

Guest "Speaker" on Publicity!

I'm excited because I have a guest today!This will be informative to you writers, and I thnk many readers will find it interesting as well. We have talked about marketing before on this blog, but today I thought I'd bring in an expert. Theresa Meyers is the owner of Blue Moon Communications. She is a freelance publicist who I work with and who has become a friend of mine. I attribute Theresa in many ways to getting me and the books "out there." She is always full of ideas and she is wonderful to work with. So, we set this up as a question and answer "thingy," and I hope you will all feel free to ask questions, as Theresa will be answering them throughout the week.

Thank You! Enjoy!

M: Hi, Theresa. Welcome to the Cozy Chicks!
T: Happy to be here. What can I help you with?
M: A lot of writers really have no idea what a personal publicist does that's different from an in-house publicist. Can you explain that a bit?
T: You mean you haven't told them? Your in-house publicist and personal publicists have two different, but not competing agendas. Your in-house publicist is an employee of the publisher, works on approximately 25 or more books every month, and is paid to get hits in the media about your book, and as an aside, you the author. They usually follow the unspoken 80-20 rule, which is spending 80% of the budget for the department on the top 20% of the books in the publisher's list and the remaining 20% of the budget on the other 80% of the list. Your personal publicist is the author's employee, takes on about 10 books in a month and spends every dime of the budget you give him or her on promoting your author brand and, as an aside, your book. Why the difference? Because your personal publicist is more interested in building your long-term career, not just getting you sales on one book.
M: What kinds of things do personal publicists do?
T: Everything I do is tailored to the individual client, so no two authors have the same plan. Some of the things I do include media training, setting up signings and book tours, arranging interviews with radio, television, newspapers, Internet chats and other venues, sending out proposals for speaking at conferences, entering contests like the RITA for an author, writing copy for newsletters, websites and mailings to fans or reader groups, image consultation, author branding, writing and designing press kits, creative consulting on projects, mailings, contest creation and management, and much more! How much and what they do depends on what you need, your goals and your budget.
M: When does an author need to think about getting a publicist?
T: In general I advise writers that when it comes to publicity you are going to spend either more time or more money for it to be effective. If you are spending more time, then you are probably saving money...that is unless that time has become worth more to you. Remember that YOU are the only one who can produce your unique brand of product. There is no assembly line to put it together for you. But stuffing envelopes? That can be done by someone else. Same with placing ads, keeping up with paperwork and answering some repetitive email (boiler plate paragraphs are a wonderful thing, learn to use them. When you start spending more than 30% of your active writing time working on promotion instead of writing, that's when its time to start looking for professional assistance. Can you pay an assistant to do some things cheaper than a publicist. Absolutely! But when it comes to things like pitching you to the media or setting up author tours, you may want to go with the person who can do it quicker and with far more experience. Trial and error is a real nasty process if you're out on the road. The other time to consider a publicist is if you feel you are getting looked over by your publisher or you have a big leap in your career happening with your next book. Both situations might call for a little extra push that you need a team to accomplish.
M: What's the craziest thing you've had to do for a client?
T: Um, I'm not sure I can answer that...client confidentiality and all...let's just say I've had cookie baskets made, sent out press kits that looked like murder files and even done a 50-city book tour.
M: What are some of the best things authors can do for themselves?
T: First and foremost, they need a good website. That's crucial to looking like you're a "real" person these days. Authors can also post their press kit information on the site. A lot of time I hear journalists typing in the author's URL when I'm following up with them on the phone. Author's also need to have a clue what their author brand is. If you don't know, get a tape from an RWA national conference or find a class online. It can change what you do and how to you do it to make it more effective. Authors can also get the word out. Start a mailing list if you don't have one already. You can't be shy if you are going to do your own promotion! Talk with friends, family, have people host a launch party for you. Make friends with all your local booksellers. Consider sending out postcards to your mailing list or an online announcement. Participate in chats online or consider going with a service like Writersspace, Noveltalk, Authors Red Room, The Romance Club, Fresh Fiction or MJ Rose's Author Buzz, to get the word out there. If you're a member of RWA, take advantage of their Romance Sells book too. Look for different venues for booksignings that are fun and different. No one says they have to be at a bookstore. Consider speaking to different groups, your local chamber of commerce, your local Lion's club or even the library. If you can offer a how-to workshop or an insight into the challenges of the small business operator and how you've managed it, you can get a lot more bookings for speaking opportunities. Remember that when it comes to media that they DON'T CARE that you've written a book. The best hooks are 1)identify a problem and offer a solution 2) point to an opportunity or 3) explode a myth.
M: Thanks for taking the time to chat with us. If people have questions can they post them here?
T: Sure. I'll try to answer questions posted during the next day or two. Thanks for inviting me.