Friday, February 29, 2008

Charlene


I know it’s not my usual “beat” to blog about pets, but I wanted to mention that it’s been a very sad week, because my oldest cat passed away. Her name was Charlene.

She had cancer, and was beginning to have physical difficulties that interfered with comfortable living. I made the difficult decision to have her “put to sleep” by a veterinarian. Even though it was a peaceful, quiet passing, I felt terrible about it.

Before taking her in for the procedure, I called the ASPCA, which has an 800 number that connects you to an animal psychologist. I expected to get a voicemail because it was the weekend, so I was amazed when the psychologist answered the line. She spoke with me about end-of-life management issues for animals, and reassured me that I was doing the right thing for my pet by letting her pass away without undue suffering. She also mentioned that I should stay her until the end. This was very hard to do, but I’m glad I did.

Yesterday, I was touched to receive a sympathy card from the veterinarian about the loss of Charlene. She said that I had made the best decision for my pet.

I found this picture of cats silhouetted against a sunset, with a cosmos of hanging toys to bat around. It made me hope that there’s really a rainbow bridge, and that Charlene and I will meet again someday. She was a good kitty.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Strange Hobbies

All of us who blog on Killer Hobbies have what I consider to be constructive hobbies --including our writing! Apparently there are other people whose hobbies aren’t quite so nice. Or maybe they just want to see what they can create, and it happens to harm others.

We’ve unfortunately had some comments attached to our posts with links that cause viruses in computers. I discovered that when I foolishly attempted to open one. In e-mail, I know better than to open attachments, but I goofed. Fortunately, I was using a computer at a place where there were experts around who were able to fix the situation.

I figure the people who create viruses are probably smart. They’re at least knowledgeable about things technical. What could they achieve if they channeled all that ability into something productive? If nothing else, maybe they could get a job with the government catching people who have similar sidelines.

Hmmm. Sounds like a plot for a mystery...


--Linda

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Mexico City

Our bookshelves are installed! I think every bibliophile in the world has a dream of real bookshelves, floor to ceiling, made of oak or walnut or maple. So did we. And now we have them. They take up most of the longest wall in our living room, a medium golden oak (to match our furniture), adjustable shelves, a little ornamental strip along the top. The workmen arrived as we were packing to go on vacation, so we didn’t have time to load the shelves before we left, but oh, what a pleasure it will be to come back home and see them! The only thing better would be to have a whole room lined with bookshelves, a for-real library. But this will do, it will do.

We are in Mexico City, one of the biggest cities in the world. We were picked up at the airport by local friends who were to be our guides during this five-day stay (technically six, but since we arrived after nine p.m. on Friday, I don’t think the first day counts. Saturday we went to Teotehuacan, a very ancient pyramid complex, older than the Aztecs (it was overgrown and abandoned when they came into the area, the name is Aztec for City of the Gods). The builders left no written record of themselves so we know almost nothing about them, yet the complex is enormous, tens of thousands of people once lived here and they built two gigantic pyramids -- the larger has about the same circumference as the Great Pyramid in Egypt!

We visited the little museum on the site and found they had uncovered some more items from when I was there last. There was this set of six or eight braziers made of pottery, for example, very strange and exotic and I'd adore to see them with burning coals. There is a round base about the size of a medium-size flower pot, set on three short legs. On top of the pot is an elaborate arrangement of deeply carved flat pieces – think Aztec style feathers or scrolls – with open spaces, and peering out from near the bottom of them is a pale face. Just the part from the eyebrows to mouth is visible. Now imagine that brazier in the evening, a little before dark, when the shape of it can be seen, and the glowing, gleaming, flickering coals dance over that mysterious face. Wouldn't that be very, very cool in Leona's garden? (Leona is the Wiccan I am going to write about in Blackwork.)

I'm thinking, since I'm establishing that Leona's into herbalism, that she might be experimenting with that very extensive "book" left by the Aztecs, describing the use of herbs in healing. And, in honor of her experimentation, she bought (or made) a copy of the brazier. Perhaps she also wears around her neck on occasion the twisted rope with a bead (small or elaborate) that marks the "bruja," or witch or sorceress or shaman in Aztec mythology. Perhaps she picks a bead shaped like a bat in honor of the piece of Aztec pottery that depicts a bruja who has taken on the shape of a bat still wearing the rope and bead.

Maybe I’m learning too much Aztec lore.

The next day, Sunday, we went to the Museum of Anthropology, a huge, magnificent complex full of statues and other artifacts of the several cultures that grew up in Mexico, Central America, and northern South America. One thing that struck me forcibly on this visit (this is my second to this Museum) were the very tiny figures (two and three inches high) of individual Mayans. And “individual” is the word, each has its own face, different from all the others. It was like looking at real people at a distance of a thousand years – which is just what I was doing, of course.

Monday we went to a market. In this one many, many, MANY booths were joined and then the aisles were roofed to make a single building in which pottery replicas of pottery gods, silver and abalone earrings, copper vases and pots and pans (miniatures to washtub size), wool serapes, wooden toys and pipes and drums, baskets, paintings, nativity sets, silver crucifixes and an incredible variety of Our Lady of Guadalupe replicas were sold. And yes, we bought some stuff.

Oh, and a young man who works behind the desk at our hotel is going to be the model for Godwin's new boyfriend. Strangely, I had decided to name him Rafael -- and that is this young man's name! He seemed flattered, and I hope he is. He's also incredibly handsome. Goddy will be pleased.

Today, Tuesday, we went to a museum of science and technology. Tonight we are packing for home, and since we have to be at the airport early in the morning, I am posting my Wednesday blog entry now.

When it rains it pours


Does anyone still have a very old container of Morton's Salt?

On the new containers, the illustration is of a little girl holding an umbrella in one hand and a plain, round, blue container, presumably Morton's Salt, in the other. Very simple.

On the old containers, however (see photo), the little girl is also holding an umbrella in one hand, but in the other she's carrying a container that's clearly Morton's Salt — with an illustration of a little girl holding an umbrella in one hand and a container of Morton's Salt in the other.

… and no this is not a typo where I inadvertently copied a line over and over. The graphic is carried out to infinity, with each little girl carrying a container picturing a little girl carrying a container … and so on to infinity.

At a launch party for "Murder in Miniature" last week, I had the feeling I was in a Morton's Salt ad.




The photo shows the outside of a miniature bookstore. In the bookstore window are small copies of my book and a sign advertising the event that I was doing in the life-size venue, which also had a sign advertising the event.

Confused? Sorry. It's hard to explain.

But what's easy to explain is the wonderful reception I had from fellow miniaturists who were so happy to have a series of their own, so to speak. Let's hear it for niche marketing. The mini shop was built by a crafter who bothered to personalize her store for the day. [Thanks, Donna!]

Writing is a funny business, where one day you get a rejection or a bad review. Or you may be seated next to a superstar at a conference, watching her signing line wrap around the corner while you signal your friends to keep you company.

But the next day you feel like you might actually be contributing to the pleasure of the reading public.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Contest Update--Now Worth $150.73

Yep, it was a gloomy weekend. So I breezed through more books. As a result, my Big Box O’ Books Contest, a lucky contest for the Irish and non-Irish alike is worth more than ever! Here’s how you enter—simply sign in at our blog. That’s it, that’s all.

Tell your friends--maybe they'll share if they win!

On March 17, I’ll choose one lucky person from those sign ins to receive my Big Box O’Books which is a box of gently read books totaling more than $150.73 in value. (I keep adding more!) See, I had to clean out my bookshelves, and I know all of you love to read, too, so I thought this was a nifty and GREEN alternative to recyling.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

How to Get Started Scrapbooking Part 4

For your page embellishments, I decided to make two tags. An embellishment can be anything, actually, that you add to your page besides journaling (your writing) and your photos. The most common embellishment is a tag, which I believe Rebecca Sauer was the first to add to a page. What's lovely about tags? They can be any size, any shape, and the common hole allows you to easily insert a ribbon. I added these to a background page, so you could see yet another way to make a background--by running a strip of patterned paper down one side of a page. In this case, I added a narrow stripe which is actually a Mrs. Grossman's sticker. She makes a variety of thin, stripe stickers that I seem to return to again and again.

Dressing Up Your Tag

Now...I restricted myself some when making these tags. I have all sorts of things I could have added, but I tried to stay fairly simple. What I've learned about tags is they are sort of like books. About 2/3 of the way through making one, you think, "This is crud. Looks awful." But you must keep going. Don't give up. Just keep adding stuff and playing and moving things around until you get something you like. I keep a small plastic container full of odd letters, pieces of paper, extra punched flowers and so on, just for adding to tags.

Family Sayings

But the best resource I have is probably the full sheet of family sayings and titles that I made some time ago. If you'd like it, email me at JoannaSlan@aol.com and I'll pop it to you through the 'net. (But I'll also add you to my ezine list unless you tell me not to.)

By having those sayings and words preprinted, I can add them quickly to any tag. It took a while to do it because I'm not good with textboxes. But, I can use it over and over. I printed the family verbiage on colored paper but you could also print it on white and add chalk to color it. I let the words take center stage on the tags, adding a flower and a sticker of lace and another sticker stripe of shiny copper.

Creating Your Tag Shape

If you don't have access to a tag you can trace, they're pretty easy to draw. Just make a rectangle and indent the top of one edge. Punch your hole in the middle of the indented top.

Tag Placement

You can put them anywhere on your page. If you adhere your photos first, as I suggested, you'll see where tags would be a natural fit. Just remember, if you have writing on your tag, you'll want to attach it so the writing is readable.

Okay...there you go. You know how to scrapbook. (Honest. It wasn't that hard, was it?)

Saturday, February 23, 2008

The question

Today is my launch party today. WooHoo! There will be quilts, food, and plenty of smiling faces. All the elements for a great day.

I’m looking forward to it. Especially the Q&A. I can guess what some of the questions will be. Where do you get your ideas? Is that quilting diva based on Alex Anderson and/or Eleanor Burns? Am I in it? Did you kill off someone you loathe? Am I the pretty one or the really annoying sister-in-law?

I’m not looking forward to the one question that gets asked of both quilters and writers: “How long did it take to: (Insert here) make that quilt/finish that novel?”

How long did it take? I find that impossible to answer. I don’t work to deadline with my quilts. I sew because I like to. The quilt is finished when the pattern is complete or the quilt is large enough to cover the bed. Or perhaps the baby has arrived two weeks early. Sometimes my inner designer tells me it’s finished.

How long did it take? How would I track the time? There’s the actual sewing time, of course. I could keep a log of time spent in the studio. What about the germinating? Just like novels, ideas for quilts come from everywhere. Do I count the time star-gazing that led me to sprinkling my sky with crystals? What about the long walks, where I often come up with a new solution to a tricky piecing problem. Shopping the quilt shops is an integral part. Do I count sleeping time if the right fabric choice came to me in the middle of the night? And how about studying time? Museum time, classes? Techniques learned and discarded often find a place in a different quilt.

How long did it take? What I want to know is what the questioner is really thinking with that question. Is it: a) If I had that kind of time, I could have done a better job. Or b) What a colossal waste of a life.

How long did it take? My first book took over five years to write, by the calendar. But that doesn’t take in Mr. Robinson’s senior English class or the business writing in night school or the proposal writing classes at the extension. The writers conferences, the seminars, the how-to books. The words that were cut, the drafts discarded, the characters axed. The other stories (typed, for crying out loud) that were almost sent into Redbook’s story contest.

So when that person in the back row, raises her hand and sweetly asks, “How long did it take you to write Wild Goose Chase?” I’ll be prepared. I know the answer.

My whole life.

Friday, February 22, 2008

The House, Part 2


Months ago, I blogged about a house that I’d bought in Connecticut—a cottage, really. This particular house, which has a four-square, Tuscan design, with a peaked slate roof and porthole windows, has special significance to me because I grew up in the house as a small child. In addition to being filled with memories, it's set in a few acres of woods in a beautiful semi-rural town in Connecticut.

Fast-forward to now. The house has been sitting there for the winter, and I’m going back in the spring to come to terms with it. For starters, there’s a tremendous amount of cleaning that needs to be done. We’re putting in a septic tank and drilling a well. Years of neglect have to be turned back and replaced with painted walls, finished floors, and a sense of being looked after. The house must be loved again.

I don’t blame the previous owner of the house for the neglect that took place since we lived there—she lived a long life, and I understand that an elderly, infirm lady cannot properly take care of a house. Her dog was dying at the same time. You walk in the place now, and you do get the sense that it’s a place where death had slowly taken root and conquered—there’s soot on the walls, a bitter smell in the air, and everything that touches water—the sinks, bathtub, toilet—has turned bright orange from some sort of iron issue with the water. It literally looks like something hopeless from one of those makeover TV shoes, where a small army of people will come in and transform it.

Well, that small army this spring will be me. My goal for the summer is to put my hair up in a bandanna, roll up my sleeves, and get that house in shape.

Now, I’m not exactly a FlyLady type, or a Mrs. Clean who knows how to do all this stuff. I’m the opposite—I once lived in a house with roommates, and was requested to hire a maid on my “cleaning” day, because my efforts to mop the floor kept yielding a sticky dull mess. (I did).

I’ll blog about the house again, once I’m there and into the whole thing. Right now, the whole prospect has me slightly terrified. Does anyone have any good tips for housecleaning on a salvage operation scale? I’ll be trying to rescue the battered little jewel of a home that once was there, and what it meant to me.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Projecting With Pets

I noticed that my Cavalier King Charles spaniel Lexie’s dry dog food was low yesterday. I’m in the middle of a couple of deadlines for my Kendra Ballantyne, Pet-Sitter mysteries, and my husband was already running some errands, so I gave him detailed information on what to pick up for our pup. Unfortunately, a clerk at the chain store where we usually go said they don’t carry that particular flavor any longer. I’d been at another one of the same chain’s stores a few days ago, and they didn’t have it, either, although they said they’d be getting some in soon.

Rather than send my husband back out to look for that food at a different pet store, I took time out to go myself. Lo and behold, the same stuff appeared to be on the shelves there, but the packaging had changed.

I nearly bought a small bag, but I read the label anew. It said that the food inside was for active dogs. Now, Lexie isn’t completely sedentary. She loves to go for romps in our large backyard, and she races around our living room with toy bones in her mouth. On the other hand, she doesn’t spend a lot of time doing either, so I can’t say she gets enough exercise. Plus, she has gained a little weight since we had her spayed. (We’d considered asking her for Cavalier puppies but decided Lexie was enough of a baby herself.)

So, deadlines or not, I spent some time reading dog food labels. I considered a new brand that I trusted, especially after the imported gluten fiasco last year, but the flavors didn’t sound good. I decided to go with another flavor of the same brand I’d bought before--one with healthier-sounding ingredients, low salt, and made especially for overweight dogs.

I’ve started mixing it in at meals with what was left of her old food, and will gradually replace the old with the new.

Now, do I do the same kind of thing for myself--buy food that sounds especially healthy? Sometimes, sure. Unfortunately, I’m not as good to myself as my fellow blogger Kathryn Lilley is to herself. I exercise some and watch my weight well at times when I’m not under stress--although this isn’t one of them. I can and will do better... someday.

But for my beloved pup? She doesn’t have much choice, since I select her food. Of course she’s hard to resist, so she gets more treats than she should, but we’ve also cut back on that. I may have no willpower for myself, but I’ll try to ensure that Lexie eats healthy! If only she’d stop looking so cute when she begs...

Do the rest of you who have pets treat them better than you treat yourselves?

--Linda

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Knit Out!

I apologize for posting this so late. It was written last night, and I generally post before I hustle off to the Courage Center pool for water aerobics. I haven't been going lately because I have this "cold thing." It's like a bad cold except it won't go away. I decided that I really have to get back into the real outside world so I went this morning, but forgot to post this before I left.

This past weekend the Mall of America had its second annual Knit Out & Crochet, sponsored by Craft Yarn Council of America, which I had never heard of before. Literally tens of thousands of women turned out for this. The parking ramps were packed full, the corridors of the mall were mobbed. Booths were set up, mostly by manufacturers who were giving product, magazines and patterns away. Lion Yarn was giving away the most enormous black canvas tote I have ever seen. It was about a yard high, it’s in my office right now, taking up valuable space. I had heard the people running this event had free knit and crochet lessons – and they did, even better than I thought: it was virtually one-on-one. I already know how to knit, at least the basics, so I sat down on a folding chair and was taught how to single and double crochet by a patient and enthusiastic young woman. I walked away with a page of instructions – and a skein of yarn and a crochet hook!

They also had panel discussions and even a world’s fastest kniter competition. I could possibly win a competition for world’s slowest.

There are more charities centered on knit and crochet than you possibly think. I paid eighteen dollars for a kit of three yarns, a pair of knitting needles, and a pattern. I’m supposed to knit a teddy bear (the pattern is dead simple), and send it to a local woman who ships the bears to sub-Saharan Africa to be distributed to AIDS orphans. If you save the red yarn the kit is closed with, you can stitch a heart on the bear to let the recipient know someone, somewhere, seriously cares about him or her. I’ve only got one leg finished and the second about two-thirds done, but what I’m doing is working it like a prayer shawl, thinking prayerfully of the child who will one day hold the little bear, wishing him or her well, hoping he or she has a long and happy life.

I invite you to visit the Craft Yarn Council’s web site; www.knitandcrochet.com.

On Friday we are flying to Mexico City. We have a very good friend down there who speaks excellent English – which is a good thing, as we speak virtually no Spanish. We will start for home on the 27th after a very busy visit. There is a lot to see and do in the capitol, and we’re going to take a big bite of that city. There is a big Aztec temple complex very nearby, there is the historic downtown, the world-famous Museum of Anthropology, fabulous restaurants, and lots of shopping. My friend’s husband plays flamenco guitar (when he’s not being a banker), and she has two very fine children, one of whom will celebrate a birthday while we’re there. The weather is in the mid-seventies and usually sunny. I think we’re going to have a great time.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

The souvenir thing




I've been studying up on what holds blog readers' attention. I finally found something I can handle: "Share your weaknesses or addictions," I read. Thanks. I'm now set for the next 52 weeks.

Here's the first one: my souvenir addiction.

I admire those who embark on journeys to enrich their lives, to expand their horizons by touring ancient ruins, museums, and cathedrals.

I travel so I can buy souvenirs.

I can't help myself. Even if I hate a place, I buy something to remind me of it. Last year I attended a conference in a shabby southwestern town I'd never willingly visit again, but I brought home a dishtowel with imprints of eight varieties of cactus. Fortunately, the towel is made of cheap fabric and the poorly applied paint-like design is already chipping away.

There's some logic to my addictive buying. A hierarchy, if you will. Colleges and universities are at the top of the list. If there's an academic institution near where I happen to be on travel, I must have a pennant, a binder, pens and pencils, at the minimum. In my sock drawer are representative novelty crew tops from no fewer than nine institutions of higher learning, from Villanova and MIT in the east, to CAL Berkeley and Chico State in the west.

The more I like a place, the bigger the item—so I have a 60-inch square throw and large posters from Revere Beach, Massachusetts (where I grew up) but only a key chain from a town that shall go nameless. But even when I have unpleasant experiences, I take something home. One day in the fall I had a very unsatisfactory visit lecturing on a college campus. The students were apathetic, the faculty full of self-importance and in-jokes. Still, I climbed a long hill to the bookstore and came home with note cards, a sports bottle, and a license plate holder with the school logo.

"I thought you had a bad time there," my husband said when I handed him his 85th cap and T-shirt with the school name in furry red letters.

I shrugged, but secretly I worry. Do I have some sick need to remember bad times?

Even the containers souvenirs come in are souvenirs to me. I keep plastic "insert your laundry here" bags with hotel logos, and, though I have never actually stolen anything, it's possible that a wash cloth or two has gotten entangled with my nightie and ended up in my own linen closet.

I'm not a collector in general. I have friends who collect Hummels or Lladro porcelain; their kids collect Pokemon cards and butterflies. Not me. To avoid being stressed out over having every item in a series, I don't bother to try. So I'm not collecting souvenirs, per se, I'm strewing them all over my house, distributing them to friends, storing some in my gift closet. (And here's another tricky situation: how long after a trip can you give a souvenir from that place as a birthday present? Will the person think you're recycling?)

Do I have a need to prove I'm a traveler? To prove I've "been there?" My mother never traveled, and when she died, the funeral procession passed every house she ever lived in. Maybe I'm carrying out her wishes that I would have a better, broader life — by traveling often and marking the journey with junk.

I realize have souvenir issues, and it's going to take professional help to deal with them. Maybe there's a souvenir-avoidance patch (in a little pouch with souvenir de Paris embroidered on it?), or a twelve-step program I haven't heard of.

I'm thinking of throwing away all my souvenirs and finally putting together a grown-up house, with high quality objects of art and classy potholders. A streamlined, well thought-out, matching home, not one with cups from Minneapolis and saucers from Washington, DC.

But I just found an amazing website where you can get souvenirs from all over the world. Are they really souvenirs if they're not carried home in my luggage?

Monday, February 18, 2008

How to Start Scrapbooking Part III and a CONTEST!

Okay, now you have the background for a scrapbooking page. (See my post last Monday for instructions.) You’ll want to add photos and embellishments. Except in rare situations, the photo is more important than embellishments, so you’ll add photos to your layouts first, and then fill in with embellishments.

You have two choices about how to add a photo—you can mat it, which means you border the photo with paper to make it stand out, or you can put it on the page as is.

(Note: Usually when something is matted, paper underNEATH it protrudes out to form a border. But you can also mat something by simply creating a border around the item. This is only important because if you go to a framing shop and they suggest a “mat” for your piece of art, they won’t mean something protruding from underneath.)

Either way you decide to display a photo is fine—matted or unmatted. Sometimes, for the sake of design or space or impact you’ll choose one way over the other. Typically, if you need the photo to stand out, you’ll mat it. For example, if the photo is small or if there are a lot of photos and you want one to be special, you’ll mat the picture. You might also mat the photo to bring out colors in the picture. Or you might mat the photo to make it more prominent because it might by itself be too small on the page. Finally, you might mat the photo because the patterned paper you’ve used would overwhelm the photo.

Two Pages--Two Ways to Add Photos

One shows a large photo on the 1/3 and 2/3s proportioned page. As you can see, there’s no need to mat this, and a mat would probably cause the photo to take up too much room as it’s already big.

The second page shows a lot of small photos on the same proportioned background. To distinguish my mother’s baby photos from mine, I matted hers.

How to Mat Photos

Now, there’s a hard way and an easy way to mat photos. The hard way is to adhere your photo to a piece of paper and try to trim all the sides so they are even. You’ll probably keep chopping down the sides until you need a new piece of paper for a mat!

Here’s the easy way: Put a photo split smack-dab in the center of the BACK of your photo. Stick your photo to the paper you want to use as a mat. Trim the mat paper as best you can. Now, GENTLY peel the photo off the mat and reposition the photo so that the borders are even.

(Note: To adhere a photo split, first remove the blue waxy tabbed square from the sticky split, then PRESS the split down hard where you want it to go, now peel off the ribbon backing. Do NOT try to remove the sticky split and stick it down. You’ll just get it stuck to your fingers. Trust me!)

Next week we’ll talk about embellishments…what they are and how to make them.

Big Box O' Books Contest

Announcing my Big Box O’ Books Contest, a lucky contest for the Irish and non-Irish alike. Here’s how you enter—simply sign in at our blog. That’s it, that’s all. On March 17, I’ll choose one lucky person from those emails to receive my Big Box O’Books which is a box of gently read books totaling more than $115.30 in value. (I keep adding more!) See, I had to clean out my bookshelves, and I know all of you love to read, too, so I thought this was a nifty and GREEN alternative to recyling.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

I blame my mother

I blame my mother. Maybe if my mother had better taste in dresses, I’d never become a sewer. Did you see the movie Hairspray? In one of the scenes, Penny—dorky, clueless Penny—is wearing the same dress that I wore to my first day of junior high. The exact red plaid cotton with the white collar. Which, by the way, was several years AFTER Hairspray took place. Did I mention the ankle socks? No, this was not Gwen Stefani kind-of-cool. The “it” girls were in pleated wool and knee socks featured in Seventeen magazine.

My mother was no Mrs. Pingleton. She never threatened to lock me in my room, and in fact, told me I looked great every day when I left for school, but she was not into fashion (Which should have been evident by her complimenting my outfits).

So I learned to sew. Dresses, and jumpers. Those were the days when pants weren’t allowed on high school girls for fear we’d inflame the high school boys. The fallacy in that logic is that a randy boy (Oh, is that redundant?) could drop his pencil on the floor under his desk and sneak a peek up the unsuspecting girl’s skirt. Over and over again. Some guys never tired of this. Yeah, Gregg, I’m looking at you.

All my best friends sewed. (We also wrote Beatle fanfic, but that’s another blog.) We talked fabric. We even critiqued each other’s work, without knowing the word. And we shopped. Yard goods were everywhere. We could ride our bikes to three fabric stores. Sears carried fabric. Montgomery Wards had yardage in the catalog.

All through high school, college and married life, we sewed. We sewed our wedding dresses, our trousseaus, our bridemaids’ dresses. We sewed capes, and muffs, and fantasy gowns. Baby clothes, baseball shirts. Even men’s pants. (Wouldn’t you marry a guy who agreed to wear the pants you made him? Seemed like a vow of undying love.)

When the sixties hit us, in the early seventies, we sewed skimpy tops out of bandannas, decorated our jeans. We sewed broomstick skirts and baby buntings. Then came the eighties, and working girl wardrobe. No time to sew, but still the urge.

I still harbored the creative energy so I decided to make a quilt. This was 1983, and resources in my small town were few. Following a library book, I spread the fabric out on the kitchen table. I marked the rectangles with a pen and cut. With scissors. You can see a picture of my first quilt on my website. So ugly.

This was pre-rotary cutter. The quilting bug didn’t take hold. It was too hard. I had a full-time job, family, night school. But the first thing I did when I got laid off, five years later, was enroll in a quilting class. Oh wait, the second. The first thing I did was buy a new computer and start a novel.

Both loves, writing and sewing, were tied together and ever-present. There were seasons of fallow and plenty. Sometimes I didn’t write, somedays I didn’t sew. Sometimes the pilot light was the only thing lit, but still the urge to write and sew never left me. Now I have the best of both, writing novels about quilters and stampers who kill and the woman who solves the crime.

Thanks, Mom!

Friday, February 15, 2008

Coining a new phrase: “ring rage”


Maybe it's too soon after Valentines Day to talk about rage.

I'm talking about small rage--in response to the blatant abuse of cell phone etiquette.

For example: yesterday, everywhere I went in my little town by the sea, I was surrounded by people yakking—shouting, even—into their cell phones. In the morning, I was in a quiet line at the post office, waiting to mail a belated Valentine’s Day card, when in came a young woman who was nannering into the phone about her fr**#! job, her no-good boyfriend, her car troubles, and whatever the heck was plaguing her uninteresting life. The rest of us in line listened stone-faced to her diatribe. Finally the postal clerk—bless her soul—told the young lady that she had to use her cell phone outside.

Really?” The woman rolled her eyes as if this were an outrageous request. She spent another two minutes loudly signing off with her caller, then spent the rest of the time in line fiddling with the phone and muttering to herself.

This happened a couple of more times during the day. By the end of the afternoon, I came up with a new phrase to add to the lexicon: “ring rage.” Ring rage will be when a person who has been forced to listen to a self-absorbed a**hole yammering into a cell phone suddenly leaps across the table or aisle, grabs the phone and smashes it against the wall. I haven't heard of that happening yet, but it's just a matter of time.

Now, I’m probably a tad sensitive these days to cell phone abuse and other demonstrations of incivility, because I recently made some major lifestyle changes that have left me much more sensitive to environmental cues. The way things are going, I can see that I will soon become one of those wild-eyed people who shouts at cell-nincompoops and plasters "Hang up and drive" bumper stickers on my car.

It’s probably just a passing phase.

But until then, I hope people will take their cell phones outside. I'd hate for things to turn ugly.
p.s. Sorry that such an uber-crabby post follows yesterday's, which is "All you need is Love."

Thursday, February 14, 2008

All You Need Is Love... And Creativity

I’m lucky--I get to post my blog entry for Valentine’s Day!

I’m the kind of writer who can’t help putting romance in most of my stories. That’s one reason I gravitated to the romance genre when I first started selling novel-length fiction. My first published novels were time-travel romances, and I’m now writing for Silhouette Nocturne in addition to my Berkley Prime Crime mysteries.

I’m also the kind of writer who can’t help putting suspense or mystery in all of my stories--even the romances. My Kendra Ballantyne, Pet-Sitter mysteries are far from romances, though--poor Kendra has a lot of issues in the relationship department, and true romances always have a happy ending, at least as far as the relationship goes. But it’s fun exploring Kendra’s many issues.

I love... love! I think it’s both enjoyable and a challenge not only to create interesting characters, but to see what makes them tick. What drives them into and out of relationships. And I was always told, when writing romance, that the hero and heroine need to have important conflicts to resolve--make each of them the other’s worst nightmare!

Not so in real life, of course. The fewer the conflicts, the better, even though “the course of true love never did run smooth.” Or it seldom does.

If you’re a writer, how do you develop the romantic conflicts between your protagonists? If you’re a reader, what kinds of conflicts do you find most intriguing?

And to everyone reading this: Have a wonderful Valentine’s Day, filled with mysterious, but exciting, romance.

--Linda

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Creative Writing Class

Thursday morning I am going to speak to a sixth-grade class at a local school. The teacher is a good friend, and I have spoken to her classes before. She brings her students’ stories to me for comment. She is very aggressive on teaching writing, and the children consistently amaze me with their creativity and talent. Some of the current crop, in my opinion, would make fine writers.

The secret to getting them willing to do the work is to get them excited. Mrs. Smith is great at this, and she gets me excited about teaching them about writing mystery stories. I’m sure most of you can remember being dismayed at some of the writing assignments you were given in grade school. Even “What I Did on My Summer Vacation” took far fewer words than the teacher required. So getting to write about a burglar or a bank robber or a kidnapper or even a murderer is really exciting for them.

I have a game I play with beginners, a “teach by doing” exercise that gives the children some insight into plotting. It’s not hard, it’s fun, and I invite any of you reading this to try it.

For a handout for this class, go to my web site: Monica-Ferris.com and click on Resources. You will find a set of instructions on how to write a play-fair mystery. You can use it “as is,” or you can re-work it to make it shorter.

The students should be at least in fourth grade. Fifth and sixth graders are the best and most fun, in my never-humble opinion. They are literate and creative, an explosive combination.

They should have done some reading of mysteries before the class. Ask them about their reading. What stories did they like? Were any of them able to guess the solution before the end? Talk about crime: what is a crime? Name some crimes? (theft, robbery, burglary, kidnapping, murder, fraud, etc.)

Talk about “collaborations,” how two or more people can work together on a story. It can be difficult, say, but the story is often richer because many brains contributed. Tell them we are going to collaborate on a story.

Tell them that often a news report or a joke or an overheard conversation will give a writer an idea for a story. Offer an illustration: I once read an article about people who spin the hair they get from brushing their dogs or cats into yarn, and knit hats or scarves from it. I have a friend who is violently allergic to cats. I wrote a short story about a woman who murders her rich uncle by knitting him a sweater. She didn’t get away with it because I also read an article about how the medical examiner has a chart with photographs of all different kinds of hair under a microscope. Sheep’s wool does not look at all like cat hair.

If there is time, let the children brainstorm about various “what if’s.” But then say there isn’t time to really decide, so you have an idea you’d like to try out for them. Say a big, important rule of writing is “write what you know,” and since about the only thing every member of the class has in common is this classroom, you will use it for your setting. Define “setting:” where the story takes place.
Say, What If your teacher had a friend who worked at the zoo, or at The Children’s Theater, or at the locomotive museum, or some other really interesting place. And What If your teacher had lunch with this friend right around Halloween or maybe near Christmas, and this friend said to your teacher, “Our tiger is going to have cubs in the spring, how would you like to bring your class out to see them? I can arrange for the kids to stroke a baby tiger!” Or come to the backstage of The Children’s Theater and see the props and costumes and try on makeup. Or take a ride in a steam locomotive.

Let the children vote on which of these (or some other attraction) they would most like to see.

Then say, Great! So your teacher comes back from lunch, and she’s so excited she tells her class about it right away, and they get all excited, too!

She goes to the principal and says she’ll need a bus to take the class on this special field trip. But the principal says, “Did you put this in the budget?” And your teacher has to say she didn’t, because she didn’t know about it. And the principal, who perhaps doesn’t like your teacher, says, “Well, that’s too bad. I guess you can’t go.”

But your teacher is determined not to disappoint her students. She goes to the cafeteria and she gets this great big empty mayonaise jar.

(Ask the teacher how much it costs to rent a bus.)

She says to the children, We’ll just raise that money ourselves!

And they do. They rake leaves and they shovel snow and they sell cookies and they collect aluminum cans and they baby sit.

And they bring the money they earn in, and the teacher puts it into the big mayonaise jar.

But she makes a serious mistake. She keeps the jar in the classroom. She wants the children to see the jar get filled, but it's not a good idea to keep a lot of money where strangers can see it.

Well, time is rushing by, and it’s almost time for the trip – and there is almost enough money. But there is not one unraked leaf or unshoveled sidewalk or loose aluminum can in the whole county!

But Jody comes in Monday morning with a whole dollar for the jar. He found a lost puppy and returned it to its owner. Everyone cheers! The teacher gets the jar out: AND IT’S EMPTY.

Someone has stolen the money.

“Awwwwwww!” should be the children’s response.

But now, you say, is the time to write the mystery. And you write a mystery by figuring out the end first! So we must answer these questions: Who stole the money? How was it stolen? When was it stolen? Why was it stolen?

One immediate suspect the children will offer: The janitor. He works alone, at night, and he has keys to all the classrooms.

You might note that I once offered this puzzle to a police investigator who said the amount stolen was not enough to bring a real police detective to the scene. He said a patrol officer might tell the principal to look at his list of employees and a name would jump out at him. You might tell the class this, and use it in the following manner: Suppose there is a janitor working in the school who is on parole for theft. It was a stupid mistake and the janitor is very sorry about it. But he is a person with a key to every classroom, and he is there when no one else is around, and he was once a thief. So when "janitor" is suggested, leap on this with enthusiasm – then say, “But isn't that too easy? How about he didn't do it? In fact, how about somebody in the class was supposed to take the hamster (plant, turtle, whatever) home during spring break – but forgot about it. And she (he) was just sick and sorry and scared until school started up again – and found out the janitor did it for her! And maybe another student was getting bullied on the playground and the janitor came over and broke it up. Or maybe the janitor is a cousin of one of the students, and the student knows the janitor is a good person. So let’s say the principal picks the janitor out of the list of employees, calls him in and demands the money back. The janitor doesn’t have it, of course. And he gets fired.”

Now, you see how beautiful this is? You have one or more students in this classroom with a powerful motive to find out who really stole the money. Student or students as sleuth! A believable motive to snoop and the necessity as well, because the powers-that-be are sure they’ve solved it, and are no longer interested in an investigation.

Other possible suspects: The principal, a rival teacher, two or more students in the class.

Let the children figure out how the thief got into the classroom (use the actual classroom). Where was the jar kept? Who has keys? Are the windows locked? Are there students in the building after school hours?

I like to force in as a suspect a student whose behavior was so awful all year long that finally the teacher said, “All right, just for that, you’re not going on the trip!” And the student thinks that if he’s not going, no one’s going. You kind of have to wrangle that one so it’s at least halfway to being the students’ idea. The others come naturally – the poor student who wants whatever is hot that season (shoes, game, bike, skateboard); the principal, already set up as a pain; and hey, maybe the janitor really did do it.

And now you have to come up with the clues that point to the culprit. (One delightful clue a student came up with: the thief jingled as he tried to walk out of the school with his trouser legs full of loose change!) Whoever took the money should not have spent it yet, so the ending is that they get it back and can go on their trip.

I apologize for the length of this thing, but I hope it’s helpful. And it’s fun to watch the kids get excited. But what’s really, really special is when a child says thoughtfully, “You know, if it say it this way, the readers will think that way about it.” There, right in front of you, an author is born!

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Love is eternal





Happy Birthday, Abraham Lincoln.

"Murder in Miniature" is set in the fictitious town of Lincoln Point, California, loosely placed somewhere between Mountain View and Palo Alto. Lincoln Point came about because I got a little tired of keeping track of potholes and one-way streets in the real cities that are the settings of my periodic table mysteries. I thought it would be easier and fun to make up a city.

It is fun, but not necessarily less work.

Once I chose the name of the town, I opened the door to hours of research on Abraham Lincoln, his life and times. It has been a pleasure to read Doris Kearns Goodwin as well as every Lincoln URL I can find. One site leads to another and I found myself this Valentine's week wondering what kind of courtship Lincoln had with Mary Todd. (I may also have been inspired by Ann Parker's nineteenth century courtship blogs on theladykillers.typepad.com.)

On again/off again for Mary and Abe, it seems, but they were married in Springfield, Illinois in November of 1842. The morning before the wedding, Mr. Lincoln is said to have told his minister, "I want to get hitched tonight." He was made to wait a day, however, so that proper arrangements could be made.

Abraham gave Mary a gold wedding ring engraved with the words "Love Is Eternal." The words for the ring exchange: "With this ring I thee endow with all my goods, chattels, lands, and tenements."

Romantic, huh?

Sunday, February 10, 2008

How to Start Scrapbooking, Part II


This is continued from my post last Monday...


We’re going to start by creating a page layout without the photo. This is the simplest way to learn how to create a page, sort of like a template approach. It will also give you some confidence with one of your most useful tools, the paper trimmer. Of course, you can also use scissors to make these cuts, but it’s tough to cut straight!

I suggest before you start, you practice with your paper trimmer. The cut line—that place where the blade meets the paper—is different on each trimmer, and the cut line is not always obvious. Use some crummy waste paper and practice. It’s worth the effort.

The proportions of 1/3 a page of one color or pattern and 2/3s of another always look great. You can fill an entire album with these and have a wonderful, consistent look to the project. You can also flip the page upside down, giving the layout a different look. And last, but not least, try this with a variety of patterned papers and solids. You’ll be surprised at how versatile it is, and how changing up the patterned paper and solid background changes the whole mood of the page.

1. Start by trimming your solid paper to a little less (about ¼ inch) than 8 ½ x 11 inches. (Keep that little strip of paper.) Here’s why I’m asking you to trim a piece of paper that probably seems the right size, little known fact: Plastic page protectors are usually a little smaller than they are advertised as being. If you don’t pre-trim your page, you’ll make a gorgeous page you can’t slip into the protector.

2. Trim your patterned paper. If it’s 12 x 12 inches, trim off 3 ½ inches from one side. Now cut the paper that’s left (8 ½ x 12 inches) into 3 equal pieces, 8 ½ x 4 inches.

3. Use your adhesive to attach the patterned strip which is 8 ½ inches by 4 inches to the top of your solid paper. There might be a little overhang, if so, use your scissors to trim the patterned paper to the size of the solid. You now have a page background.

You’ll notice I have a strip of solid paper between the top and bottom. That’s why it’s a good idea to keep any scraps you had when you trimmed down the 8 ½ x 11 inch piece of solid paper.

At the center of the thin strip, I adhered an embellishment which came in my paper package. You could do the same, but you don’t need to.

If your solid colored paper is the same color all the way through, back and front, you can repeat this procedure on the backside of your 8 ½ x 11 inch page, so that you’ll have TWO layouts.

Next week we’ll add embellishments and photos, but you can easy do a lot of these pages without much thought to get ready for breezing through this album.
By the way, you'll want to go to my scrapbooking website and sign up for my ezine. I have a new issue coming out this week with a cool Valentine's Day layout and embellishment.
Joanna
By the way, I didn't change the lock when my husband returned from Las Vegas. I forgave him. And he bought me a beautiful purse! So I was smart to let him in the house.

Friday, February 8, 2008

Week of Firsts

It’s been a week of firsts for me. First time I saw my book on the shelf at Borders. First interview. First party in my honor. First time I was bumped out of a magazine.

It’s a thrill seeing your book at the store, let me tell you. Wondering who’s going to buy it. Will they like the setting? Guess the murderer? Hate the right people? Will they blush at the naughty bits?

Here’s a picture David Isaak took in the Southland. There’s Wild Goose Chase in between Josephine Tey and Sherlock Holmes. I’d say that’s pretty good company.



Check out the interview at my brother’s blog. My first interview. By the way, Dave has created an alternate universe. You can’t really get to Eddie’s Book Nook from here. Don’t worry if you don’t understand it. I’ve known him, like my whole life, and I don’t always get it. He’s just that smart. http://davidthayer.booksquare.com

Do you have an Ipod loaded with your favorite songs? Do you know that feeling you get when a particularly good one comes up? Like whenever I hear those first few notes of Son of a Preacher Man, I think, This is going to be good. A friend threw a party to celebrate my Publication Date. Every time the doorbell rang, and it was another familiar face, I had that feeling. This is going to be good. And it was. My first party.

My first disappointment in publishing (okay, not counting the book rejections). Mark Lipinski’s review of Wild Goose Chase was bumped out of this month’s Quilter’s Home Magazine. He needed the ad space. Dang, the harsh realities of life. Still, the magazine, with his unique, slightly skewed view of the quilting world made me laugh. My plan is to be one of the swashbuckling quilters on page 36.

So a week of ups and downs, but mostly ups. Way up.

Notes from the writing front


Yesterday on this blog we were talking about stress—and naturally, that topic made me think about writing. I found this photo of hands beating against the monitor (or maybe they’re struggling to escape); to me, the picture perfectly illustrates my current source of stress, aka the pressure starting a new book.

Some background: in January, I wrapped up the second book in the Fat City Mysteries (called A KILLER WORKOUT).Then I started writing the first couple of pages of Book Three.

Fast forward to February, and I’m still working on the first couple of pages of Book Three, which features murder, mayhem and plastic surgery (the working title is FINAL CUT).

My struggle has to do with getting all the pieces just right in those first few paragraphs: character, humor, tone, plot and mystery elements. Once I get them defined, those elements, like the hands, take hold of the body of the story. From there, everything else flows more easily. But those first few pages are always tough.

So I’m wondering—what are the elements that most powerfully draw you into a story, that keep you turning the pages? As an author, are the first pages the most difficult? Which aspects are hardest to establish?

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Stress!

Okay, I need to make this short and sweet.

Like last week, I was planning on blogging about something erudite about my writing this week. That was before I started really stressing about time.

Why is it that I seemed so much more efficient squeezing everything in when I was younger? I had a full-time job, young kids with all their needs including getting them to and from school and after-school activities, and a great, supportive husband with whom I loved spending time, too.

Of course, maybe the point was that I was younger. I got up an hour earlier than anyone else in the household to write.

Now, I only work half days at a law firm and don’t take on any assignments that come home with me, either actually or in my mind. My kids are grown and my husband is still supportive. But with a March 15 deadline on the manuscript for the seventh Kendra Ballantyne, Pet-Sitter mystery, another Silhouette Nocturne sale (which I fortunately don’t have to focus on till my Kendra manuscript is out the door), and concern about promotion for Kendra #6, DOUBLE DOG DARE, a June release--not to mention some family stuff, but, then, there’s always family stuff going on--I’m feeling stressed!

Well, okay, taking time out to blog adds to it, but at least this way I get to vent!

Enough. I’d imagine nearly everyone reading this is equally stressed, at times, about... time! If anyone has any magic bullets to fix it, please let me know.

On the other hand, maybe the fact that my first published novels were time travel romances says something about my selective memory. Maybe I was stressed way back then, too, and figured that at least fictionally all I had to do was play games with time...

Anyway, I’d better get back to work.

--Linda

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Talk, Talk, Talk

I’ve been giving talks lately. I talked to WOW, Women of the West, a big quilters guild, a week ago Monday, and tonight I talked at a library in West St. Paul to a much smaller crowd. Both audiences asked good questions after the talk. One woman at the library, in a wheelchair and with both vision and hearing problems, suggested I use someone like her as a character. I thought about that and said that people with impairments are often dismissed as incompetent witnesses, but they see and/or hear more than many suspect. Or they use their remaining senses in ways not apparent or thought of. So yes, it would be interesting to use a character like that.

I’ve done enough of these talks that I now have a speaker’s fee of $200. It started out at a hundred, then a hundred and fifty. I raise it when I get too many invitations. I forget who advised me to do that, to set my speaker’s fee at a price that brought me just about as many invitations as I could comfortably handle. I thought I’d have to write a new speech at frequent intervals, but so far all I’ve done is refine my one speech, using audience reaction to know when I’m getting it right. It’s mostly humorous, with a few serious points. I bring along a couple of models of the patterns from the backs of my novels and – when I’m speaking to quilters – the magnificent chicken-themed quilt I recently had made for me.

Yes, I’ll confess it, I bought the wonderful, incredibly-varied fabric printed with chicks, hens, roosters, even eggs and fried-chicken legs, in cartoon, impressionistic, and realistic styles, large and small patterns, bright and subdued pastels and primary colors – but all about chickens. And a few yards of fabric printed with a chicken-wire pattern to be a frame. And I stitched needlepoint, counted cross stitch, punch needle and other kinds of needleworked pieces for it, too. All of which were sewn into a crazy quilt by Karen Kerner of Radisson, Wisconsin, when I discovered that (surprise!) quilting isn’t as easy as it looks, either. My description of my discovery of this often brings the biggest laugh of the evening.

Actually, I do have a second talk, one on how to plot, write and sell a mystery story. I’ve got handouts and funny stories and everything. But I haven’t been asked to give that one in a long time.

I recently added the serious point that I think we should encourage tales of heroism -- which mysteries are, really -- because people need to be uplifted, encouraged to do brave things, to act in hope that they can make things better. There are an awful lot of novels out there – it seems to me – about sad people living hopeless lives. Worse, many of these are aimed at young and young-adult readers. Children of divorce living in uninspiring neighborhoods with friends who steal or do drugs or both are features of these novels. Surely a steady diet of unhappy stories would discourage anyone from reading. And even if it doesn’t, such stories can easily convince a young reader that anger, dissatisfaction, and “acting out” are normal or even recommended ways to react to the normal disappointments of life. And that life is full of disappointments, if we look for them.

Not true, children! When you wake up in the morning, you are the one who gets to decide what kind of a day you’re going to have, whether you’re going to make it a positive or negative experience. In the words of the old song, Would you like to swing on a star? Or would you rather be a pig?

Mini Tuesday



It’s Tuesday, February 5, and “Murder in Miniature” has finally come into the world, in full color.

I really didn’t expect such elaborate coverage of its release. I mean, “SuperTuesday?” For a mystery series set in the world of dollhouses and miniatures?

But I’ll take it, every mention of it.

I’ve had a lot of fun making miniature scenes and taking them or sending them off here and there to auctions at conferences and meetings. I’d like to make one for a KillerHobbies reader. Post here or email me if you want to be included in a drawing I’ll do for a mini scene.

For samples, check out the album at www.dollhousemysteries.com. My book launch and party schedule is on the site also.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

My Promise to Stacey Klemstein

I’m totally bummed right now. Having a meltdown. So just let me rant, and then I’ll post what I promised Stacey Klemstein, author of The Silver Spoon by Eschelon Press.

See, I just flew back from Love Is Murder on Dark & Stormy Nights. I’m dog-tired. Bone-weary. Weepy. Had one of those return flights that's like your worst roller coaster nightmare. It's raining. My son couldn't come pick me up at the airport. My husband is in Las Vegas with guy friends from Steinway watching the Super Bowl. He left while I was gone. My dogs are at the dog sitter's house. I feel abandoned.

But I planned to focus on the positive. I took a deep breath when I walked in the door to my home.

Great, I told myself. This is my opportunity for Quality Time with my 18-year-old son. Michael and I can watch the Super Bowl together!!

I ordered pizza! We got comfy in the TV room. We were laughing over the commercials. Only…suddenly Charter (Mis)Communications demanded the PIN number. Which I thought I knew. But after three tries, I discovered I obviously didn’t. And Charter turned the screen all blue with the message “Incorrect PIN. Call 1888GETCHARTER.” (Which is code for "1-800-GET-LOST.) When I dutifully called Charter, I was told I wasn’t authorized to turn the service back on. The representative explained that the account is only in my husband’s name—not Mr. and Mrs, only Mr. Slan—yeah, the very name of the no-good son-of-an-earthworm who SET the PIN number and forgot to tell me what the number was.

And it’s happened before. He's changed it and forgotten to tell me. I so rarely watch TV—and now you see why. It’s no fun to be all psyched up about watching something only to have Charter decide you aren’t old enough. Which is a real kick in the butt because I’m the oldest person in this household, and CERTAINLY the most mature. (Or I am unless I'm really, really tired and angry.)

As my son said, “Why do we even need a PIN number? Mom, if I want to watch porn, I can watch it on my computer.” Spoken like a true child of the computer age. So now I’m here in my office in the basement and my son’s upstairs in front of his computer watching the Super Bowl on his monitor. So much for togetherness. For bonding.

I think I will change the locks.

GGGGGRRRRRRRR.

**

Now on to what I promised Stacey…

How To Get Started Scrapbooking When You Haven't a Clue Where to Begin

You don’t have to be really artistic to scrapbook. You don’t even need to spend a lot of money. Here’s how to get started…and I promise you can do this for less than $50. Probably more like $35 if you watch for coupons. (Google "Archivers." They have great coupons. Get on their mailing list.)

Shopping List (from Archivers, Michaels, Target, JoAnn’s, WalMart or Kmart)

1. An archivally safe pen—get this from Archivers or Michaels or Target or WalMart. Sakura makes a good one.
2. A personal paper trimmer—Fiskars makes a good one. Get the 12” size. From Archivers, or the others.
3. A variety of adhesives—a package of photo splits, a runny glue (like Elmer’s but one that dries clear), a glue stick, and my favorite, HERMA Dotto. (A little pricey, but worth it. Get the repositional dots.)
4. A package of scrapbook paper—get one of those pads that has multiple sheets of patterned paper, embellishments and alphabets. You can buy these for $20 or less. I suggest you take along the particular photos you want to scrap first. Hold the photos up to the paper in your package—is the mood right? Are the colors a good match? Try several combinations. You'll find one that pleases. (Even if the packaged paper is sealed, usually they show you the papers inside with a small schematic on the packaging.)
5. Six to 10 solid color papers to match the papers in the package of scrapbook paper. (This is for matting photos.)
6. Six to 10 solid white or crème papers to match the package of scrapbook paper. (This is for writing your journaling on. If there's cream in your patterned paper, buy cream. If there's white, buy white.)

From Around the House
1. A pencil
2. An eraser
3. Scissors
4. A metal ruler

From an Office Supply Store or Discount Store
1. A 3-ring binder (8 ½ inches by 11 inches) -- You might have one around the house that you can use to start with.
2. Same size plastic page protectors—ones that say “archivally safe”

Now you might be thinking, “Don’t I need a nice album?”

Why I Suggest Beginners Start with a 3-Ring Binder

The expensive albums take a lot of your craft budget. They are intimidating. You can ruin an entire page. The pages must be threaded on straps or posts in order and right side up. Heck, they even scare ME.

You KNOW how to handle a 3-ring binder, right? Yeah, sure you do.

Next week, I’ll show you how to scrapbook your photos. You’ll want to choose a dozen or so that have the same theme or time frame or some unifying thread. (Okay, and about that oft-heard cry, "You wouldn't believe all the photos I have! I haven't sorted them!" Honey-chile, I got you beat. I have 22 boxes of photos, one suitcase, one 3' x 3' cardboard box, and three old albums. I'm not BEHIND, I just have a lot of inventory to work with. See? Change your perspective. If you wait until they are all sorted, chances are you'll never get to it. That's one of the beauties of 3-ring binders. Find a new photo? No problem--make the page and put it where it belongs.)

Okay, you go get the supplies. I’m going to see if I can “recapture the magic,” and get my son to try to watch the SuperBowl with me again. You and I will pick up where we left off next week.

I’m still changing the locks.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

With a little help from my friends

There’s always that moment—in a quilt, in a book—where nothing is working. You’ve done all the scut work. You’ve thought it through, planned, executed, but it’s just not happening. Your inspired fabric choices are suddenly insipid, your piecing skills that of a dyslexic who doesn’t know a needle from a crochet hook. Your writing is as lifeless as yesterday’s garbage.

You wonder why you ever thought you could make this darn queen-size Double Wedding Ring or were capable of capturing the sunrise over the Capitola wharf or portray life-like characters in tough situations. Someone’s been murdered, you yell at your protagonist, Do something.

You force yourself to sit at the sewing machine or in front of the computer. When that doesn’t work, you check out what’s on television. A quick look at Dr. Phil assures that there are people worse off than you. That makes you feel better for a little while.

Every artistic endeavor has that point. Where it’s all sh*t. Then you have two choices: put the project aside and go back to playing Tetris, or press on.

In my life, there have been many, many times I’ve gotten to that point and put the project down. Away forever. The aforementioned Double Wedding Ring quilt will never be completed. The 300 pages of the hot and steamy romance novel was burned before the move to California. I decided I was not suited for writing or intricate piecing and I walked away.

That’s okay, sometimes. Do it too often however, and your work will never grow. You’ll never make the quilt you’ve got on the design wall, you’ll never restore that 67 Valiant, you’ll never finish the novel.

I don’t do that so much any more. The main reason for that are my friends. And their critiques of my work.

My friends are generous in spirit. Able to see past my mismatched seams and run-on sentences. Somehow they can see what I meant to say, or how I wanted the quilt to look. They’re able to suggest a different colored batik for that boat or insist that Dewey look into the darkened room. They gently push me past my hesitations, my hiccups. Their ideas spur me to new heights.

It’s not easy to allow yourself to write or make crap, but it is necessary. You must sew, you must write. You must make mistakes. You must make trash.

The thing about yesterday’s garbage is that it is great compost.

Friday, February 1, 2008

Those little decisions that add up…


I was interested today to see that Starbucks has decided to discontinue its hot breakfast sandwiches, in an effort to remediate flagging sales.

This action on the part of Big Cuppa Joe brought to mind the floundering economy. Traffic at U.S. Starbucks fell three percent over the past year, a trend that evidently reflects reduced consumer spending across the board. Retail sales, as we’ve probably all heard by now, came to a screeching halt in December.

So that got me to thinking…until recently, we were all freaked out about spending three bucks for a gallon of gas, but we thought little about spending three bucks for a cup of coffee. Or $1.50 for a pint of water. For water!

In my grandmother’s era—heck, in my mother’s era—such mindless consumption would have been unthinkable. My mother grew up during the Great Depression and World War II. She told tales of catching chickens for the family dinner, canning vegetables, quilting blankets—not for the joy of craft, but for warmth—and peeling the aluminum backs off gum wrappers for the war effort. It was an era of can-do frugality.

Fast forward to the government’s response to the sub prime mortgage mess. Our leaders say they’re giving us a six hundred dollar tax rebate, but they’re not hoping that we’ll save it for our children’s’ college, or pay off debt. They’re hoping that we’ll spend it.

On what? On more coffee, sweaters knit in China, and plasma TVs? Or maybe they’re hoping that we’ll generate another boom, and buy more houses that most people can’t afford. Our whole economic system is evidently a house of cards that rests on the buying habits of spoiled, over-consuming spendthrifts.

I think the whole thing is crazy. And to chip in to the sense that spendin' times, they're a changing, I've taken some action to cut back on my personal consumption (and carbon footprint):

  • I’m telecommuting to work, saving tons of gas.
  • I’m no longer ordering my morning breakfast burrito, at $3.95 per morning (I gave up Starbucks long ago).
  • I get my hair done every four weeks, instead of every three.
  • I have a manicure once a month, instead of once a week.
  • I canceled the newspaper and several magazines, reading almost everything online now

These are all tiny, baby steps, I know. But multiply one person’s effort by two hundred million, and you’re talking real money.

It might just be enough to get the attention of corporate America, to let them know that the American consumer is wising up. We're changing our own profligate ways, and are beginning to reject the corporations that outsource our jobs and then charge us premium prices for inferior goods and services.

We’re mad as hell, and we’re not taking it anymore.

Least of all from ourselves.

How about you? Are you cutting back in any way in light of the recent economic downturn? Any habits changing?