Functional family? Don't make me laugh!

I've been reading a lot in blogs lately about dysfunctional families. It's Christmas season that sets these things off -- a time when our expectations most exceed reality and disappointment in non perfection is most acute. Calling any family dysfunctional is being unnecessarily redundant. Find me a family that's functional -- go on, I dare ya. Movies and TV don't count; neither does any family you haven't been a part of. Too easy to be fooled by a good facade when a stranger is present. If you're looking for perfection anywhere, you're doomed to failure.

I'm watching one of my favorite movies -- Meet Me in St. Louis. It has just about the most goldenly perfect depiction of family life ever seen on the silver screen with none of the grating mawkishness of the Brady Bunch. Most times I watch it in a happy glow of nostalgia for an era and family which never existed, an idealistic glimpse of what everyone wishes their family were like. There were a few times I watched it tearfully, sad that my family could never measure up to the Smiths.

But, you know, even the Smiths had their moments of discord and familial failings.

Agnes runs off on Halloween leaving her sister Tootie behind because she's too little. And talk about juvenile delinquency! What those children are allowed to get up to -- bonfires, for heaven's sake.

Mr. Smith doesn't consult anyone in his family before deciding to accept a new position which means moving his family to New York. Everyone is pretty upset. Most of them stalk out in a huff (although the parents' singing draws everyone back, determined to make the best of it).

Rose and Esther are mortified when their dates fall through, and they face the disgrace of having to be escorted to the Christmas ball by their brother. They narrowly miss being scarred for life.

Yet at the end of the film they're a united and happy family.

I know there are a lot of families out there with some very serious problems -- drug/alcohol abuse, physical and emotional abuse, neglect, mental illness. I'm not taking that lightly. But now everyone has decided, via mega viewings of Dr. Phil and Montel, that they're expert analysts. They study their family, find it lacking, and blame their problems on negative and non supportive kin.

Most people have been damaged by their family. The main exceptions are the alphas -- the golden children who grow up to rule the pride. Or those few who are exceptionally resilient and thick skinned.

I'm no exception. My main problem, from always being the odd one, the belittled one, is a lack of self-confidence. When it seems like someone is snubbing me, when someone who has been friendly suddenly turns cold, my first thought is usually that I've done something wrong. It worries me. I feel hurt. I wonder if I should approach them about it, or just cut and run. It's compounded by my difficulty picking up subtle hints. I don't: I need a brick to hit me (or someone to come right out and say things clearly and distinctly).

Then I try to look at it from another perspective. Maybe it's the other fellow's fault. Maybe he has his own problems, his own inadequacies. Maybe she hasn't had much practice relating to people.

I'm far from shrugging off situations like this, but I'll continue to work at it. And I won't bemoan my dysfunctional family. When I go to Christmas dinner, I'll remind myself that they are insecure people who have to put me down to feel good about themselves. Not My Problem unless I choose to make it so.

Snow Day?

I'm really hoping they cancel school tomorrow. Not that I'm a student -- haven't been for over twenty years, but I work at a school, and if the city cancels, I don't have to go in.

Normally I don't mind so much. I don't like to drive in snow, and this year I'm not familiar with my new (used) car and how it behaves in slippery or snowy conditions. But I can get to work on the bus, with one transfer. Which is also handy if my car's out of service.

However, I woke up this morning with a scratchy throat, achy, feeling blah, and it hasn't improved any over the day. Being able to sleep in tomorrow would be such a great thing! And if there is school, with the snow seeming to be a definite thing, it's going to be wild tomorrow.

For some reason, as long as it's not snowing too badly by seven a.m or so, they don't seem to want to cancel. Even if by dismissal time they know that there's going to be three or more inches on the ground, the roads treacherous, and the school buses having to make their way through a city of people who've left work early to beat the rush hour storm traffic.

This has happened before, and what it usually means is that, starting around 10 a.m. and continuing until school gets out, there will be a steady stream of parents through the front door getting their kids dismissed early. A few times there were dozens of dismissals out of a school population of about 330, not counting the ones who started showing up at the side door from a half hour before school ended and were taken care of by the day care workers.

Then I'll have to slog through the snow to the bus stop, wheezing and sneezing, and stand ankle-deep in freezing slush to wait for a bus which will probably be late because of the weather, to catch a bus to take me to wait for another bus which will also be late.

One time the traffic congestion and driving conditions were so bad, none of the buses could do their routes after about four p.m. They had one final bus for each route at about 6:30 to get all of us who had been trapped downtown home. That day I got home after seven, after leaving work at 3:30. And my house, under non inclement driving conditions, is about fifteen minutes away from work.

If you're coming snow, come early!

News from Brian Murphy about Gold Eagle

For those who are familiar with the Destroyer Series, by Richard Sapir and Warren Murphy, there has been a new development in their relationship with Gold Eagle. Warren Murphy did not renew their contract when it was up for negotiation last summer, though he did let them exercise their option to publish the Destroyer through 2006.

One of the problems with the negotiations was that Gold Eagle did little to promote the series. They even refused an offer by the owner of Destroyer Club to buy an advertisement for the club in the back of the books. For some reason, now that they've lost the series, Gold Eagle is willing to offer a dedication/acknowledgement of Warren's site. You can view the picture below.

Nano and Web Site

Getting toward the halfway point in Nano! I was hoping to be at 25,000 words tomorrow, but I slacked off a bit today. Only got to 22,195, which means almost 3000 tomorrow if I want to make it. But I will sit down and try. Funny thing is, I've been flying by the seat of my pants lately. I didn't really plan out anything too much. Things just seem to work themselves out as I go along. For instance, originally, I had my heroine's brother telling her too much too soon, but I put up some roadblocks to that as I was writing it. Now, she's searching for answers somewhere else. I only thought of that plot point yesterday, but it gave me something I was sure about to write today. But I didn't feel as inspired to write it, though I got some speed up around eleven.

They had four My Name is Earls on tonight, and I got distracted watching them. Funny show, and sweet.

I still have ideas for tomorrow. The situation I have my heroine in is going to be playing out for a few chapters. No hurry. I still have half my word count to go.

There's an excerpt posted on my viewer profile over at Nanowrimo. It's crude and I haven't edited at all, so if you want to go check it out, I'm dmcourt there.

I'm getting tempted, too, by my new web site. Jerry finally persuaded me to register my name online, so I got a web site too, while I was at it. I worked on that a little, but there's still much to do, and I don't have a really clear idea of what I can put on it. I could have a book review section. And set up links and advertise the Destroyer and New Blood on there too, if anyone ever finds the site! For now, I'm just cross posting a few of my blogs there.

As soon as I finish my book (for now), I'll turn to the website. They have different themes besides the ones you can choose from. I'd like to decorate it for Christmas for now, then after Christmas, either go with a winter theme or -- probably better -- a tropical theme. I'm sure to be sick of snow by January.

Grateful

Got this over at Live Journal . I really need to do this. Too often I only think of things that go wrong or that I'm not happy about.

Gratitude Meme: List ten small things you're grateful for, then tag five other people to do the same.

1. Chocolate
2. Good old movies
3. Bad old movies that are so bad, they're good
4. Sundays
5. Typing instead of writing by hand
6. Warm days in November
7. Cool days in July
8. St. Francis of Assisi
9. My comfortable old bathrobe
10. live journal/blogs

Nano went well today. I couldn't write much Friday, but I had written over on other days, so I wasn't behind. But I mean to get far enough ahead this weekend so if something comes up during the week, I won't go too far behind then. I'm up to 9185, and if I can get in at least 2000 (hopefully 3000) tomorrow...

I was really proud of myself today. I couldn't start writing until after six, and I was starting on the third chapter. I had planned the first seven chapters, but decided, as I was starting tonight, to move what I'd had planned for the third chapter into the fourth chapter, and substitute one written in third person dealing with the villain. When I sat down, I had no real idea what was going to come out, but come out stuff did. While it's not great literature, I really wasn't expecting to pull ideas and words out of thin air like that. I hadn't really thought my villain through until I began tonight.

My cat seems much better today. I'm crossing my fingers. He was able to walk around much better. Yesterday, when he came home, the first thing he wanted was the litter box. He had to rest halfway to the bathroom, then, after doing his business, he lay down in the box until he could get up the strength to get out. He wasn't eating the special food they'd given me and he felt cold when I picked him up.

Today he's walking longer before he has to rest. I gave him his regular food tonight, and he's gone to the dish three times so far and ate a little bit each time. He feels warmer and his nose is pinker. I'll just have to keep giving him his medicine and hope for the best.

All in all, a much better birthday than I was picturing a few days ago.

Rights and Wrongs

I'm one of the administrators over at Destroyer Club, a site dedicated to the series created by Warren Murphy and Richard Sapir. There have been over 140 books in the series since 1972, many of which have been written by ghost writers. Some background material before my rant.

When I first found the series, it had just gone over to Signet, and Murphy & Sapir were still writing it (for the most part). Then Will Murray took over as the main writer, with an occasional book by Murphy, Sapir, or both. I didn't realize back then about ghost writers. M&S's names were still on the books, and if they were a little different, they were still entertaining and featured the characters I had grown to love.

Signet gave way to Gold Eagle, and a few years later Murray gave way to Jim Mullaney, and still the series went on. But Gold Eagle didn't advertise it very well and didn't seem to care about selling as many of the books as they could. Jim Mullaney was made an offer he needed to refuse during his last contract negotiation, and a new writer took over. Sales plummeted, and as it stands now, Warren Murphy has refused a new contract with Gold Eagle and is shopping for a new publisher for the series. Since then the books have taken a nosedive in quality with the new writer, and GE has never promoted it, it's going to be a bit of a task.

Jim Mullaney, who continues to love the series, has been trying to help get the series back in the public eye a bit. Last week, National Review Online (the web branch of a conservative magazine) published an article by Jim. It posited that one of the reasons for the series' sliding popularity was that the conservative slant that had been in place since Murphy and Sapir's books had been sliding toward the left. He also happened to mention that the ghost writer before him, Will Murray, had also in his opinion not stayed true to the series' conservative roots.

Now, agree or disagree, it did get the series a bit of publicity, much more than it's had since Murphy and Sapir's Destroyers were mentioned in the New York Times Book Review. Sales (on Amazon.com) of the Assassin's Handbook 2, a privately published reader's guide to the thirty years of the series, even went up a little in the days after the article appeared.

However, Will Murray took it rather badly. Which is his right. However, he used this as the occasion to join the Destroyer club and make his first post there -- not to answer fans' eager questions, or give them a chance to say how much they loved his books, but to rant against Jim Mullaney. As one of the administrators, I can't take sides on the forums, but my blog is my own.

What an honor! After over a year of the club's existence, another one of the ghost writers finally shows up and it's to do nothing but spew venom against a fellow writer. Makes me wonder, if he cares so much about the Destroyer, why it took him so long to find us. It was pretty quickly rectified once he'd got a bug up his butt.

Contrast his behavior to that of Warren and Jim's, who have been posting on the Destroyer Club since the beginning. And while both of them have expressed their opinion about Gold Eagle, they haven't attacked the latest ghost writer or dissed other writers of the series. Even with Gold Eagle, they've never named names.

The Destroyer club is supposed to be a site for the fans to talk about Remo and Chiun and Smith and CURE, ask Warren and the ghostwriters questions, and just get together to talk. It is not supposed to be a site for one of the writers to slam another of the writers, no matter how justified he might think he is. The other admins aren't happy about his little temper tantrum either.

It really bothers me how he's gotten people's hopes up. Finally, another of the ghosts is on the forum! Several members responded eagerly to his post. They didn't give him the angry reactions he wanted, but were excited to see him there. The more cautious ones didn't weigh in; they probably read the message and found it disturbing. But I would bet everyone's hoping he'll be dropping in on us regularly now he's found us. I feel that since he's done his spewing and didn't get the indignation and support he craves, he won't be back. Which stinks for the fans. It's sure to occur to them that he could have found this site easily a year ago and didn't bother. And the site is for the fans, not for him to spit venom at Jim or engage in vendettas.

Twelve days to...

nanowrimo. Now I have the song from You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown running through my head. The one about The Book Report on Peter Rabbit... Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five... I'm glad Microsoft Works and Open Office come with automatic word counting. And I also wonder if contractions count as one or two words. Maybe I'll I will not use any, just as a little bit of a word count booster.

Rather ordinary day. Good news on the Destroyer front. Jim Mullaney wrote an article about the decline of the series that was on The National Review Online. Anything that will get the series in the public eye now that Warren Murphy's shopping it around to publishers. Caused a bit of a controversy on the Destroyerclub (but what doesn't).

Yesterday was the twelfth anniversary of my mother's death. Got through it better than last year. Don't know what happened last year that made it so hard. Maybe a convergence of that, hormones, and God knows what else. Though it may not have hit me on the exact day. Last year I had a bad two days, then for some reason my mood broke suddenly. The only reason I can pinpoint the day is that I suddenly felt better about halfway through the seventh game of the world series. Not because the Red Sox had a chance of winning that for the first time in 87 years (or so). I remember sitting there, feeling miserable and wishing I could enjoy something I probably wouldn't see again, and suddenly I felt better. Hormones. Go figure. But I think the last game of the world series had to be later than the 18th.

To get back to nanowrimo, I'm wondering about the hyphens. Do hyphenated words count as one or two? Vital questions for a very important issue...

NaNoWriMo

I've signed up for the national novel writing month. I'd heard about it last year, but couldn't think of anything to write. This time I have an idea; whether the novel will turn out well isn't the point. In fact, since it's probable there will be no time for editing, I should make up my mind before I start that it'll be total crap. Although I still hope that somehow there will be something worthwhile somewhere within it -- enough that I can work on it and maybe have something better than I thought.

While I'm waiting to start, I'm plotting out characters and what's going to happen and breaking that into chapters. I won't have time for planning when I start writing. There may be a lot of: he was a very, very, very, very, very tall man. Hmmm... note to self, don't use italics too much, takes too long to italicize words. I could probably type five of six words in the time it takes me to highlight and hit the little "i" button on top of the box here.

I'll also try to write something every day, sort of as a warmup. Can't go from no words to 1700 a day. I'll continue my entries about The Witching Hour on my Live Journal and My Space, try to post more on Destroyerclub (though I'll have to keep on topic there). Too bad these places don't give you a word count.

One good thing has come from signing up for nanowrimo, but I can't say what it is yet. I don't want to write that something is going to happen and then it doesn't pan out.

Everything is Beautiful (in its own way)

Had a little misunderstanding on Jim Butcher's mailing list earlier. There was a thread which had gone from word meanings to dress. One poster had written about seeing a five year old girl dressed in a skin tight mini skirt, hot pink tight top and knee length boots with two inch heels. Oh, and fish net stockings(what else).

There were a few posts in which the words decent/indecent came up regarding the issue of dressing a five year old (or allowing her to dress) this way. I wrote in mentioning that, emotionally charged words aside, it was a very constrictive, uncomfortable, and unhealthy (two inch heels are a bitch on adult feet, what they'll cost to a five year old years down the line is a matter for chiropodists to speculate).

As an aside, I happened to mention that I thought it was totally inappropriate unless you were between the ages of 18 and 29 and had a perfect, bulgeless body. I should know better than to speak lightly.

So, naturally, someone posted to the list that they weren't criticizing my opinion, then went on to suggest that I'm also revolted by the idea of elderly people having sex, that our society (and I by association) am superficial and only think perfect bodies should be seen. I have a sneaking suspicion she thinks I am between 18 and 29, with a fab bod who spends my time snickering at ugly people.

I'm feeling a little irritated right now that I'm feeling defensive about my opinion. After all, one of my favorite Twilight Zone episodes is "Number 22 Looks Just Like You" about a future where people were forced to have surgery so that everyone would be beautiful (and lobotomized). Rod Serling was a good writer who managed to say a lot in a half hour playlet about the nature of beauty and the importance of individuality and diversity. It was ahead of its time, in this age of plastic surgery and extreme makeovers. It worries me sometimes. It's shown so much on TV and the movies; we're getting Hollywood's view on the importance of looks shoved down our throats. I've written before that I'm an optimist, so I still believe that the majority of people outside Hollywood and NYC don't buy into that.

I'm 44 and not ashamed to say it (or put it on this blog). I'm also short and stout (being kind here) and if I ever go outside in a midriff baring outfit, it would be because my cold, stiff body is being taken out by ambulance.

Am I ashamed of my body? No. Neither do I think it's a work of art. Because I say that, some people might try to tell me I have "poor self esteem." My reply would be that it's a fair and honest assessment and I'm comfortable with it. Isn't it more a sign of poor self esteem if you're afraid to be honest with yourself?

Maybe it's my age, maybe it's just the way I was raised, but I don't believe that flaunting my body, wearing revealing outfits, shows pride in myself. It has nothing to do with sexuality. I was taught to dress to complement my body, minimize the flaws, accentuate the positive. Even if I were gorgeous, the same rules would apply. I've seen pictures of beautiful movie stars wearing outfits that didn't flatter them. Did they know that when they looked in the mirror and didn't care? If they did, I say go for it, girl! Just don't anybody insist that I say that they're looking their best.

Why CompuServe 7.0 sucks

When I hooked up my new computer, I was glad I'd saved the CD my ISP had sent me several months ago, when I'd had to reload it. It had been fouled up then, too, I forget the details. My old computer couldn't support the latest version, so I continued with Compuserve 4.0, which suited me anyway, as I was used to it.

Now here I was with Compuserve 7.0, and the problems started almost immediately. Suddenly, I couldn't log in to My Space. Every attempt took me back to the sign up page, and when I tried to sign up again I'd get an error message. I contacted My Space three times and received no reply. Guess you get what you pay for.

Then I noticed when I went to My Preferences and tried to change anything, CS would freeze, forcing me to log off. And my computer would freeze if I tried to log back on too soon.

Now to Blogger. My dashboard looked strange. I saw the problem: the blogger news that they post under the dashboard was now superimposed over my dashboard. And none of my dashboard controls would work. Wrote to Blogger. Three times. See the last sentence two paragraphs back.

By this time I was increasingly irritated and worried and decided to bring some of the problems to the attention of Compuserve. I wrote to them about My Space and Blogger (hadn't realized the "Preferences" problem yet) and received a disinterested reply that I should really get in touch with the web sites in question, as how could this be Compuserve's fault.

I had installed Firefox, on the recommendations of a few friends, when I set up the new computer. Jerry had sent me a DVD-rom with some of his favorite freeware programs he'd found over the years.

A few nights ago, at a loss for any solutions, I had activated Firefox. For the hell of it, I decided to try connecting to Blogger through it. Since you're reading this, you can guess the outcome. And My Space. Success there also. JKRowling.com, which I had just discovered I couldn't access, except through the text only version on good old CS? You probably can guess that too.

I'm only paying $14.95 a month for CS, though I'm thinking of adjusting my budget enough to spring for DSL. But we have Comcast cable at work, and it has it's down moments. I could add, once more, that you get what you pay for. But Firefox is free.

Hypothetical Situation

Urban Sasquatch posed this time travel question on his blog a few days ago. At first, I meant to answer in the comments for that blog, but decided it would take up too much space.

The situation and rules are:

You have a year in which to prepare for this trip in any fashion you dub appropriate.

More still -- you can take approximately two hundred pounds of cargo with you, be it another person, equipment/books, money -- the list is infinite!

Now, the important part: It's a one-way trip!

Wherever you go, whenever you go, you will live out your life there until the day you die in whatever fashion Nature dictates.

1. Where/when do you go, and why?
2. How do you spend your year preparing for the trip?
3. What do you take with you?
4. What is your purpose?

I needed a few days to think it over and shush my practical side.

My practical side said, "When you start going back in time, each era will have increasingly inferior medical care." It glared fiercely at me, adding: "Don't mention diseases like AIDS and SARS. Without vaccines and antibiotics, you've got polio -- and tuberculosis. What about bubonic plague, huh? Huh? And if they know enough to operate, before the mid-nineteenth century, you won't get anesthesia. Think about it."

This is only an exercise in imagination, you know. We're supposed to have fun with this.

"Fun? You won't have much fun as a woman. Let's face it; in this time and place you have more rights and protection than any time in history. Go back far enough, even here or in Europe, and you won't be able to vote or own property."

Shut up.

"Oh, and speaking of going to other countries, have you even thought of the language problems? Remember all those years of French in high school? Can you speak it, really? You don't really have an ear for languages. And remember, go back more than three or four hundred years, and even English becomes a little tricky."

OK, so I never could shut my practical side up. But I did manage to compromise. It's still not happy. Anyway:

1. Where/when do you go, and why?

England, Regency period, c.1800-1830. Not too bad for women. Language not a problem; good literature (Austen, the Brontes), with Dickens to look forward to. Napoleonic wars, but England is peaceful. No big famines or plagues. Women have ditched the big powdered wigs and the fashions are comfortable. Interesting people and conversation. London's got a fairly small population and anyone worth knowing is pretty much there.

2. How do you spend your year preparing for the trip?

Learning as much about the times as possible, with an emphasis on investments and shipping. When I get there, I'll need to make as much money as quickly as possible. No point living in the past if you're not rich. The conditions below middle class were wretched in the city, and work from sunup to sundown on the farms.

Also, take a few nursing courses, learn as much as possible about herbs and natural medicine. Investigate if I'd be able to make a few simple antibiotics. Learn to bake from scratch, how they do laundry, etc. (I'm planning on getting rich enough for servants to do all that, but it's better not to be ignorant of household things).

3. What do you take with you?

A medicine case (I know, any pills would lose strength eventually, but it would give me a start). A few precious gems to sell for a start up stake, since you can't get gold. A few favorite books.

4. What is your purpose?

Do I have to have a purpose? To live well, to enjoy the company of the great thinkers and writers of the age. To stay one step ahead of the times.

New Blood On Sale

A few years ago, on warrenmurphy.com, Warren wrote to his fans that he wanted to thank us for being such loyal readers of the Destroyer series. He'd decided to publish a book of short stories, entirely fan written, with a forward written by him.

I'd never written any fiction, aside from some small attempts as a child, but I decided to try. There had been a character mentioned a few times, but never seen. I'd always wondered what she'd have to say. I had already imagined things about her life as I'd come across references to her in the books. Since something of her life was known, I thought it might be easier for a beginner. The story already was structured; I just had to fill in things from her perspective.
It was both easier, and much harder, than I'd imagined. I got stuck about two thirds through, and spent months fiddling with it, changing a word here, a phrase there. Finally, about a year later, after I learned how to format it, I e-mailed the file. It wasn't bravery, it was ignorance (or innocence). That, and I figured he lived too far away for me to hear him laughing.

Then, hearing back from him. Finding out that he thinks it's well-written. Finding out he likes it. Imagine that, something I'd set in someone else's world, a world that I love, and hearing back from the author that he liked what I did!

Now, the book's been printed. My copy is already on the way. The book went on sale yesterday. Just through warrenmurphy.com, and destroyerworld.com; later Amazon will get some in. Ballybunnion is a small publishing house so it can only do so much.

My biggest hope is that Mr. Murphy will at least break even on the printing costs, or maybe do a little better. I know I have a few stories ready to choose from if a second book becomes a possibility. I know some of the other authors have some too. Then there are the others, the ones who didn't know about the short story submissions until it was too late. Some of them have written fan fiction at the DestroyerClub that's really well done. It would be a shame if none of them got their chance. For now, I'll have to wait and see and try to think of ways to sell New Blood.

And, if nothing else ever comes from it, thank you, Mr. Murphy, for giving me the incentive to try something I'd always wanted to try.

Optimism

I was replying to a post on the Destroyer Club earlier, and realized, after reading it through for errors, what an optimist I sounded. Which isn't a bad thing. I didn't realize when I started how upbeat I felt about the future. Not my personal future, necessarily, but humanity in general.


How did I get to be an optimist? It certainly wasn't from my father's side, at least not the ones I've met. My father and his mother were the gloomiest people I know. Bad times were always ahead, anything good was in the past (and wasn't that good looking back on it).

I remember one time when they were reminiscing about when my father and his sister were small. They lived in government housing, attached houses which were tidy brick buildings that are still standing in my city. Kitchen and parlor downstairs, two bedrooms upstairs. My grandfather was a cook who would have had trouble making ends meet in a nonsubsidized apartment.

Back in the forties, it was a close knit community, mostly French-Canadian and Greek. The women kept everything scrupulously clean and there was little crime. Families would walk downtown to one of the movie theaters, stay for the double feature, and think nothing of walking home through the dark streets and the North Common close to midnight. My grandmother and aunt used to travel to Church for novenas; it ended earlier than the movies, but in winter it was after night fall.

To get back to the memory, my father and grandmother were talking about hot summer days. Some of the residents in the housing would hire buses and organize trips to the beach. Everyone chipped in for transport, and everyone brought along big hampers of food and sang songs on the bus.

I was enjoying the story. It was fine up until then. But then...the sun was too hot, everyone was too noisy, sand got in the food and the bathing suits, it was a pain cleaning up the kids after they got back. The fumes from the bus made my father sick, and he didn't enjoy the beach anyway.

Sigh.

Now, my mother.

My mother's father was kicked off the police force on trumped up charges just before the Great Depression hit. He worked driving a cab, among other things. He started up more than one newspaper, trying to expose the corruption and take down some of the people who had framed him. He kept his lawsuit up in the court system throughout the decade, until he was finally exonerated and reinstated with full back pay owed and promotions granted.

They never went hungry, but money was tight. Days went by when all they had to eat was oatmeal and molasses. A few times they had to vacate their apartment very quietly, in the middle of the night, wearing several layers of clothes and taking only what they could carry. My aunt Jane was a severe diabetic who needed to keep to a strict diet. Most of the food budget went for hers. Sometimes it wasn't enough. Once, when things were particularly hard, my grandfather went to a priest to ask for money. He got it, but the priest asked him not to come back. He was in with the city's politicians who had had my grandfather kicked off, and said he didn't want trouble.

My mother loved to tell me about her childhood. For her, it was a mostly happy time. She didn't romanticize the poverty, but she said she liked molasses anyway. Christmas presents during the Depression were usually what could fit in one stocking; maybe a little toy and one orange. She'd talk of her friends and the games they'd play, the barrel slats they'd use to sled downhill in the winter, the potatoes they used to swipe and roast in holes in the ground. She remembered moving into a large, run-down Victorian house that a friend of her father's had let them move into rent free because he couldn't find anyone who could afford to rent or buy it. She called it the haunted house and talked of going to sleep in a room with a skylight, and how she'd watch the bats swooping overhead. And the fireplaces children could walk into without bumping their heads.

It isn't a puzzle really, where I got my optimism. It isn't surprising I can feel pessimistic about some things; most people are a mixture of both anyway, I think. I'm just amazed, growing up with my father carrying his little black rain cloud with him wherever he went and spreading the gloom, that I didn't get the optimism sucked out of me.

Writing

I wrote a little bit today, just the beginning of a story that I had the idea for months ago. At least I'm beginning again. For some reason I've been lethargic about it. Just never seemed to be the right time, or I couldn't seem to write anything that wasn't awful. I like what I've put down so far, and I should finish it this weekend. I might show it to Jerry first, before it goes up on the Fan Fiction Forum, if he's not too busy. Just a general look-over, see if it makes sense and what I'm writing is coherant.

It should be an exciting time coming up in July. New Blood will be coming out very soon. Contract negotiations for The Destroyer should be settled, and we'll know if there will be more books beyond 2005. Hopefully, we'll learn that better books will be coming out, with rewriting done where it's needed to get the characterization back on track. The next Destroyer book will be out about the middle of July. Not as looked forward to since the problems started, but I've decided to enjoy what elements of the story I can, and ignore the bad parts.

And The Half-Blood Prince, of course. There's so much anticipation, it's almost a let down when I've read it. Then it will be at least a year until book seven. And no more new Harry Potters after that, at least so J.K. Rowling has said.

Memorial Day

It's not quite Memorial Day yet, but I'm heading for the graves today with my grandmother and aunt. Glad to get it over with a day early, and can spend Monday in peace.

I can stand the visit. I don't get depressed or start thinking about my mortality. I do that anyway on occasion, but going there doesn't bring it on. And I certainly don't want to forget those who've passed on, but for the ones I've known, I would rather remember their lives than where the bones rest. I don't know about an afterlife, but wherever they are, they're not there.

Which, considering how my mom felt about geraniums, it's just as well if she doesn't look in on her resting place. For some reason, geraniums appear to be the flower of choice. I see some pansies, too, and a few other things. Well, you have to go with what's blooming in New England at this time. And my nana likes geraniums best because they're hardy and practical and can be taken and planted in your yard after the deceased (and their visitors) are through admiring them.

When I remember my mother, I remember her reading. I remember how she taught me love of reading. Not just by reading to me, but by making time in her day to read her own books. I had to amuse myself while she was doing something she clearly enjoyed. When I was older, I was busy with my own reading. We had different tastes. She liked Regency romance, I like mysteries. When I was a child, I read the classics -- Little Women, Treasure Island -- which she had read a long time before. And contemporary children's books-- The Phantom Toll Booth, A Wrinkle in Time, etc, which didn't interest a middle-aged woman.

But we both liked humor. Sometimes, in romances and mysteries, there are funny parts. One of us was always finding the other one, finger holding the place, to read a passage. Like in a Charlotte MacLeod mystery where the main character's cousin, who's looking after an eccentric(and rich) elderly relation, tells her about the old man's plans to clean up Boston Common. By providing diapers for the pigeons. The cousin rants that it's the old man who thinks up these things, but it will be him out on the Common holding talcum powder and chasing after pigeons. My mother ended up reading a few of MacLeod's mysteries.

We took turns reading some humorous books out loud even when I was well into my teens: Erma Bombeck, Jean Kerr, Phyllis Diller, Sam Levinson, P. G. Wodehouse. There where more, but these were our favorites.

So, when I go out to the cemetery tomorrow, I'll be thinking about how to place the flowers so they don't tip over. I'll think about the dead when I'm doing or seeing something that they would have enjoyed.

Weekend

Three day weekend and feeling better than I have in over two weeks. I should be able to get eight hours of unbroken sleep instead of waking up coughing several times. The sun came out today for the first time since last weekend, and may be out a little bit every day even though there's a chance of showers each day also.

I signed and sent out the release form to Brian. The book should be out by summer, and hopefully there will be good news about the Destroyer series shortly after.

Better

One week later. My cold is still here, though it's improving. My senses of smell and taste are still almost non-existent. It's been almost a week; I've never had that go on for so long. Still coughing.

I have a new car: a 2001 Nissan Altima. Picked it up yesterday. So far, it seems to be a pretty good car. It's been well-maintained. I just have to get used to a four cylinder engine. My Tempo was six cylinders; even though it was running poorly, it still had more power than the Nissan. When I got up to speed, it stayed there longer without me having to put my foot back down on the gas. On the other hand, when I was on the highway, I was going over seventy without realizing it. The Tempo always used to start to shake over 65, sort of like the Enterprise in the original series when it would go past a certain warp speed and Scotty would call up from Engineering. "Captain, she canna take anymore!"

New Blood is almost ready to go. I'm afraid I'm holding it back now. Brian emailed a release form to print and return via snail mail. With everything going on last week, I never printed it out. It'll have to wait for Monday now. I don't have a printer at home, so I'll have to do it at work. But I'll have an envelope ready and mail it out the same day.

Sick

Just goes to show, when you get lazy writing and think you can get back to it in a few days, then you get sick and can't do anything much at all.

Felt bad since Tues, but didn't come out to be a head cold until Fri. I've spent a miserable weekend sneezing, with my eyes running, and a sore throat too.

To make things worse, the car developed problems yesterday, and is at the garage waiting to get looked at tomorrow. The only good thing is I've got enough food in the house to get by for now. It was running fine until I spent $22 on gas yesterday, then leaving the gas station it couldn't accelerate and was making a ghastly noise. Sears was close by, but they don't handle engines, so I was off to my city, taking the back roads at 25mph, and managed to ge to my usual garage. Probably the transmission. When I put it in park and revved the engine it sounded fine (at first I thought putting gas sent some dirt into the fuel line, but then it would have affected the car even in park).

So, I'll be on the bus tomorrow, and I doubt I'll have a car when it's time to go home. If it's too expensive to fix it would be better to buy a new (used) car. I hate change, but I hate not having a car more.

Breather

Haven't been writing for about a week now. Not just here; I haven't been posting on my Live Journal or finishing my chapter or writing a new story. I don't even have a reason. I don't feel depressed or blocked. Maybe it's just my general goofing off and fooling around.

One place I have posted is at Destroyerclub, but that's more like talking. We're not posting profound posts about the Destroyer and there isn't any news. I think we all needed a breather after the discussions about the latest book got a little too intense. New Blood should be coming out within the next month or two. That will be exciting! Also, I'm hoping to get a regular chat session going, if we can decide on a day and time.

This is a good beginning, but I really have to get back to the fiction!

Update

Haven't updated in a while.

The problem I had last month's been worked out. My partner did get back to me. He'd been very busy; a lot of problems at work. The bad news, once we got back on track, is the possibility for the book fell through. I still have hope that something may work out in the future with it, but the author we were writing it for is a bit down. Our hope now is that something can be worked out between him and the publisher for the main series.

Anyhow, my co-writer still has his book to work on, and I still have my short stories for practice, and also the idea I have for a mystery book/series. Once I get that worked out (characters, setting, etc.) I thought I might try a few mystery short stories first. If they don't work out I'll know the elements need working on without putting in a the major effort that a book would demand.

I also have my challenge writing group on Live Journal. I just finished a 2000 word story for that. Well, mine came up to 2600. We were supposed to write a story that showed a character getting angry. I hope mine got angry enough. I may have overreached myself. She's also sad and has had a bit of a shock. I hope my story portrayed her confusion without being confusing.

If my partner isn't too busy, I may ask him to just look it over; no heavy editing, just to see if it does what it's supposed to do.

Down

Feeling a little down tonight. I've been collaborating with someone on a book, and things seem to be halted, maybe permanently.

What's really pissing me off is I don't know where things stand; I don't know where I stand. He's not being very communicative, less and less as the weeks go on and the excuses pile up. Problem is, every one is legitimate -- lack of time, working on something for someone else, lots of overtime at work. But, taken all together, it's starting to sound suspicious. If there is a problem, I'd like to know. If he just wants to quit; if it's me, he doesn't want to work with me anymore; if he's figured that the author we're writing this for, who doesn't know about it, won't accept it. Last time I heard from him, several days ago, he was rewriting another book. If he has the time for that, but not the time for this book, what does that tell me?

Trouble is, I got enthused. I have three chapters written. True, it wasn't my idea to begin with, and the major plot is his. However, I do think I've come up with a few good plot points.

I'd like to know one way or the other, but with my temper, I hate confrontations. I don't want to react in a way that will burn my bridges, but I have a feeling the bridges are being deconstructed while I'm waiting in vain for answers.

Books

Trying to put a color here that would complement my blog's background parchment coloring.

Still working my way around the site, trying to get the feel of this. I should write something every day just for practice. I don't really want to stir up controversy anyway, or express my political or social views.

I work as the receptionist in a small private school. Not a bad job, lots of time for reflection, in between all the little fill in things they have you do. Answering the phone and greeting visitors leaves you hanging around too much; may as well fold letters and stuff envelopes.

I've always loved to read, mostly historical mysteries. My favorite authors are Lindsey Davis, Anne Perry, Edward Marston, Bruce Alexander, and Rhys Bowen. I started reading mysteries in my teens with Agatha Christie and Conan Doyle.

I also love Harry Potter and Murphy and Sapir's Destroyer series.

The computer opened up a lot of new reading venues. I discovered fan fiction; the quality varies wildly, of course, but I still find plenty out there to make it worthwhile. More importantly, it started my urge to write.

I'd always wanted to write growing up, but never could think of anything I really wanted to write about. Or maybe I was just lazy. Somehow, reading other amateur fics online spurred me to write when I realized writing in someone else's world gave me access to full blown characters and a pre-made world.

I wrote my first story in response to an offer from Warren Murphy on his author site. He created the Destroyer series, which I've been reading for over twenty years now. He was putting together a book of short stories written by fans, as a thank you for their devotion to the series over the years. I'd been speculating about an unseen character off and on for years as I've read the books. I wrote it down, sent it in, and was accepted for publication. The book, Destroyerworld Presents: New Blood, will be available shortly.

Since writing the first story, I've written others. They're either Destroyer or Harry Potter (another favorite series). The Sugar Quill link on the left goes to my author page.

Once you write one, it seems to be easier to continue. Even writing here is practice. That's enough for today.

Hello

Just one small entry so I can adjust a few things.