Have you ever seen someone in real life who is the character in some book you’ve read? Or, if you’re a writer have you ever seen one of your characters show up in flesh and blood right in front of you?
We were having lunch a Mexican speedy, but not fast food place when I noticed a blond woman sitting alone in the booth behind us. She was eating the chips that come with everything and seemed to be reading something. For some reason when she got up to go to the salsa bar for a refill, my gaze was drawn to her. She was nicely dressed in dark medium brown slacks and a rust colored sweater. It wasn’t the clothes that caught my eye. It was her belt. It was big and brown and featured a holster with a gun. As she leaned over the salsa bar, I caught sight of the handcuffs and some other little compartments on the belt.
She might have been a little older than my character, but she was definitely Detective Heather from the crochet mysteries.
It was hard not to stare when she sat down with her salsa. I wanted to ask her a million questions about what it was like to be her. Of course, I didn’t. How crazy would I have looked if I slipped her a bookmark and said she seemed just like a character in the books I write? Sometimes you have to look at it from the other person’s point of view. Like the time I went into the sheriff’s station on Catalina and when they asked if they could help me, I started explaining about the book I was writing and how it took place on Catalina and I was curious about their jail cells. Did I mention I was wearing a hat from the Oprah show and sun glasses and a whole lot of bracelets? The female sheriff eyed me suspiciously and pretty much blew me off. Looking back on the episode I can see where I came across as a little odd.
So while the blond woman with the fine features was Detective Heather as far as I was concerned, I kept it to myself.
No surprise, when she left she got into a black Crown Victoria just like the one Detective Heather drives.
Showing posts with label crochet mysteries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crochet mysteries. Show all posts
Friday, January 13, 2012
Friday, July 1, 2011
Computer Joy
At last I can get online without waiting, waiting, waiting. At last I can read my emails without having to watch that swirly thing go around and around before each email would finally open. At last I can click on a website and actually have it download. At last I’m not getting kicked off line .
I’ve had my new desktop computer since March, but getting online was never good and sometimes impossible. It turned out that while I was getting reception from our DSL router, it wasn’t strong enough.
My son got me an antenna and some kind of booster and suddenly everything is working lightening fast. I didn’t realize how much the frustration of my online dealings was coloring my computer habits. Basically, I was avoiding my desktop.
I am certainly glad to have all that speed now. I have been making arrangements go to Minneapolis for the Knit and Crochet Show at the end of July. All that checking of airline schedules and prices would have been a nightmare if it weren’t for my nifty antenna.
The Knit Guild and the Crochet Guild get together and put on a summer show and a fall show. Along with a sales area, there are classes, banquets, fashion shows and lot of people who love to work with yarn. I’m going as research for the crochet mysteries that features Molly Pink and the Tarzana Hookers and for my new series that is going to feature Casey Feldstein who puts on yarn retreats at a slightly sinister Northern California conference center. I’m also going because I love doing yarn arts. I looked at the list of vendors and I’m bringing an extra suitcase, just in case.
As I said the two guilds put on a fall show as well. This year it’s in Greenboro, North Carolina. The funny thing is I’m already going to Greensboro that same September weekend for the Writers Police Academy. It’s going to be an intense weekend of learning first hand about cops and firefighters. There’s even a lottery and the winner gets a ride along in a sheriff’s car. I don’t remember all the activities, but there was something about a shallow grave and possible bad odors.
I love doing research.
I hope everybody has a safe and happy 4th of July. What are you all doing to celebrate?
I’ve had my new desktop computer since March, but getting online was never good and sometimes impossible. It turned out that while I was getting reception from our DSL router, it wasn’t strong enough.
My son got me an antenna and some kind of booster and suddenly everything is working lightening fast. I didn’t realize how much the frustration of my online dealings was coloring my computer habits. Basically, I was avoiding my desktop.
I am certainly glad to have all that speed now. I have been making arrangements go to Minneapolis for the Knit and Crochet Show at the end of July. All that checking of airline schedules and prices would have been a nightmare if it weren’t for my nifty antenna.
The Knit Guild and the Crochet Guild get together and put on a summer show and a fall show. Along with a sales area, there are classes, banquets, fashion shows and lot of people who love to work with yarn. I’m going as research for the crochet mysteries that features Molly Pink and the Tarzana Hookers and for my new series that is going to feature Casey Feldstein who puts on yarn retreats at a slightly sinister Northern California conference center. I’m also going because I love doing yarn arts. I looked at the list of vendors and I’m bringing an extra suitcase, just in case.
As I said the two guilds put on a fall show as well. This year it’s in Greenboro, North Carolina. The funny thing is I’m already going to Greensboro that same September weekend for the Writers Police Academy. It’s going to be an intense weekend of learning first hand about cops and firefighters. There’s even a lottery and the winner gets a ride along in a sheriff’s car. I don’t remember all the activities, but there was something about a shallow grave and possible bad odors.
I love doing research.
I hope everybody has a safe and happy 4th of July. What are you all doing to celebrate?
Friday, April 22, 2011
Abra Cadabra
You just don't know when something you learned will come in handy. I originally took the magic class with the Great Houdanni because I was writing a script about a kid, Woody Finkle, who becomes Principal for a Day and everything goes wrong. Woody was a kid magician and eventuaully used magic to save the day.
Apparently woman aren't big on being magic students. The class had twenty men and three women. Anyway, I learned lots of the secrets behind illusions and how to pull off a trick. I briefly toyed with the idea of putting together an act and seeing if I could become a member of the Magic Castle (a famous Los Angeles magic club).
Now all these years later, my knowledge of magic is suddenly useful. In addition to the crochet mysteries, I am going to be writing a second series for Berkley Prime Crime about a dessert chef who puts on yarn retreats in the northern California town of Cadbury by the Sea at a retreat center that is picturesque and a little bit sinister. The dessert chef, Casey Feldstein, has an ex boyfriend who doesn't want to be an ex. His name is Dr. Sammie Glickner and while being a urologist, his real passion is magic. And thanks to the Great Houdanni's class, I'll be able to give him some illusions and the patter that goes along with them.
Now if I could just figure out a way to use that tap dancing class I took.
Have you found that some special knowlege you have has come in handy in an unexpected way?
Apparently woman aren't big on being magic students. The class had twenty men and three women. Anyway, I learned lots of the secrets behind illusions and how to pull off a trick. I briefly toyed with the idea of putting together an act and seeing if I could become a member of the Magic Castle (a famous Los Angeles magic club).
Now all these years later, my knowledge of magic is suddenly useful. In addition to the crochet mysteries, I am going to be writing a second series for Berkley Prime Crime about a dessert chef who puts on yarn retreats in the northern California town of Cadbury by the Sea at a retreat center that is picturesque and a little bit sinister. The dessert chef, Casey Feldstein, has an ex boyfriend who doesn't want to be an ex. His name is Dr. Sammie Glickner and while being a urologist, his real passion is magic. And thanks to the Great Houdanni's class, I'll be able to give him some illusions and the patter that goes along with them.
Now if I could just figure out a way to use that tap dancing class I took.
Have you found that some special knowlege you have has come in handy in an unexpected way?
Friday, February 18, 2011
Synopsis
Judging by the groan I get in response from other writers when I say I’m working on a synopsis, I gather that it’s not most writers favorite task. I wasn’t too thrilled either when I got my contract and it said they wanted to see a synopsis first for each book.
But now that I’m working on my seventh crochet mystery I have come to like doing the synopsis. It is where the story starts to come together. At times, it seems like magic as information from all different places starts popping up in my mind.
My chosen method of working is first thing in the morning when I’m still a little half here and not quite there. I like to use index cards. I learned to write scenes on index cards when I was writing scripts, but it works nicely for books, too. The good thing about index cards that as I think of something that needs to happen earlier, I can write it on a card and stick it where it belongs. I number the cards, but end up with adding abc, etc to the numbers as I stick more cards in.
Writing a synopsis is about telling rather than showing. I find that in writing mysteries, there are two stories. The first is what happened. Who killed so and so. How they did it. Why they did it. And what clues lead to the killer being uncovered. Then there is the story the reader gets, which is the first story all mixed up and revealed slowly. For me the synopsis turns out to be the plot the reader gets with some explanations of what really happened mixed in.
When I get done with the index cards, I either start writing the actual synopsis on a yellow legal pad or move right to the computer. The funny part is that I barely look at the cards unless I get stuck.
I’m still on index cards right now, but the pieces are falling into place. Tidbits of information I never knew would be useful seem to fall from the sky and land on the cards. The characters are all starting to talk in my head, or in some cases, argue. I don’t want to give anything away, but in this book two plot lines have to dovetail and all these neat ways to do it have been showing up in my imagination.
When I’m finished and my editor has given me the okay, the synopsis will be like a book map. Even though things will change in the actual writing, I will know where I’m headed and the ride will be so much more fun.
For the writers out there, how do you feel about writing a synopsis?
But now that I’m working on my seventh crochet mystery I have come to like doing the synopsis. It is where the story starts to come together. At times, it seems like magic as information from all different places starts popping up in my mind.
My chosen method of working is first thing in the morning when I’m still a little half here and not quite there. I like to use index cards. I learned to write scenes on index cards when I was writing scripts, but it works nicely for books, too. The good thing about index cards that as I think of something that needs to happen earlier, I can write it on a card and stick it where it belongs. I number the cards, but end up with adding abc, etc to the numbers as I stick more cards in.
Writing a synopsis is about telling rather than showing. I find that in writing mysteries, there are two stories. The first is what happened. Who killed so and so. How they did it. Why they did it. And what clues lead to the killer being uncovered. Then there is the story the reader gets, which is the first story all mixed up and revealed slowly. For me the synopsis turns out to be the plot the reader gets with some explanations of what really happened mixed in.
When I get done with the index cards, I either start writing the actual synopsis on a yellow legal pad or move right to the computer. The funny part is that I barely look at the cards unless I get stuck.
I’m still on index cards right now, but the pieces are falling into place. Tidbits of information I never knew would be useful seem to fall from the sky and land on the cards. The characters are all starting to talk in my head, or in some cases, argue. I don’t want to give anything away, but in this book two plot lines have to dovetail and all these neat ways to do it have been showing up in my imagination.
When I’m finished and my editor has given me the okay, the synopsis will be like a book map. Even though things will change in the actual writing, I will know where I’m headed and the ride will be so much more fun.
For the writers out there, how do you feel about writing a synopsis?
Friday, February 11, 2011
Black and White and Read All Over
guess it sounds kind of dinosaurish, but I like to read the newspaper. Yes, there is lots of news online, but it’s not the same. With the newspaper there is a certain serendipity as you flip through the pages. Who knows what stories you’ll find? If you’re just following tabloid headlines online, you miss out on a lot.
I read the Daily News which used to be called the Valley Greensheet and the first page really was green. Although it covers the news of the whole Los Angeles area, it focuses a little more on the San Fernando Valley. Although focusing on local news seems kind of dinosaurish, too.
I took a journalism class at the local community college a while ago. It was kind of like shutting the door when the chickens have already gotten out. I already had a degree and had worked on the student newspaper of two different universities, writing news stories and a column. Still it was an interesting class if for no other reason than the students. Community colleges attract the whole spectrum of people, so there was a man who knew World War II first hand, and a kid raw out of high school who couldn’t deal with the concept on not wearing his baseball cap in class.
The first thing the instructor talked about was what made something newsworthy. Right up there was proximity, but that was before the Internet made the whole world local.
I often end up cutting out newspaper stories because they are relevant to what I’m writing. I am just beginning on the seventh crochet mystery, tentatively called Knot What It Seams. Both Molly and her friend Dinah have issues with what I call text talk. It started with shortening names. Kentucky Fried Chicken became KFC. Sunny Delight became Sunny D. Then between emails and texting, all hell broke loose or AHBL.
Not only was there LOL, but thank you became TY. See you later became C U. I saw this great article in the paper about even more words that had been turned into letters. It was great information for Molly and Dinah. As I cut it out of the paper, I could just hear Molly and Dinah throwing their hands up that OK had become K. The period was added to signify the discussion was finished. I’m sure Molly and Dinah would have a few things to say about LMAO or LMAOOF, which are supposed to show how hard you’re laughing out loud.
Then there’s WTF, which is a way of saying the F word without saying it and makes you look edgy and clever.
I added the article to my stash. Yes, along with a stash of yarn, I have a stash of newspaper articles. In fact, the whole plot of Knot What It Seams came from a newspaper article.
So old fashioned as it seems, I like the newspaper. I’m sure they will be appearing on I Pads soon if they aren’t already, but it’s not the same experience of holding the paper in your hands and folding back the pages. I still like my news in 3D.
What about you?
I read the Daily News which used to be called the Valley Greensheet and the first page really was green. Although it covers the news of the whole Los Angeles area, it focuses a little more on the San Fernando Valley. Although focusing on local news seems kind of dinosaurish, too.
I took a journalism class at the local community college a while ago. It was kind of like shutting the door when the chickens have already gotten out. I already had a degree and had worked on the student newspaper of two different universities, writing news stories and a column. Still it was an interesting class if for no other reason than the students. Community colleges attract the whole spectrum of people, so there was a man who knew World War II first hand, and a kid raw out of high school who couldn’t deal with the concept on not wearing his baseball cap in class.
The first thing the instructor talked about was what made something newsworthy. Right up there was proximity, but that was before the Internet made the whole world local.
I often end up cutting out newspaper stories because they are relevant to what I’m writing. I am just beginning on the seventh crochet mystery, tentatively called Knot What It Seams. Both Molly and her friend Dinah have issues with what I call text talk. It started with shortening names. Kentucky Fried Chicken became KFC. Sunny Delight became Sunny D. Then between emails and texting, all hell broke loose or AHBL.
Not only was there LOL, but thank you became TY. See you later became C U. I saw this great article in the paper about even more words that had been turned into letters. It was great information for Molly and Dinah. As I cut it out of the paper, I could just hear Molly and Dinah throwing their hands up that OK had become K. The period was added to signify the discussion was finished. I’m sure Molly and Dinah would have a few things to say about LMAO or LMAOOF, which are supposed to show how hard you’re laughing out loud.
Then there’s WTF, which is a way of saying the F word without saying it and makes you look edgy and clever.
I added the article to my stash. Yes, along with a stash of yarn, I have a stash of newspaper articles. In fact, the whole plot of Knot What It Seams came from a newspaper article.
So old fashioned as it seems, I like the newspaper. I’m sure they will be appearing on I Pads soon if they aren’t already, but it’s not the same experience of holding the paper in your hands and folding back the pages. I still like my news in 3D.
What about you?
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Last Minute Details
No matter how much I think that this time it will be different, it never is. There’s always a mad dash to get everything together when I’m going away. It didn’t help that I have been going back and forth with my agent on something. No more drop it in a mailbox and forget it for awhile.
I sent her some chapters Thursday morning. Thursday afternoon they were back with some valid comments. No matter that I had things to do, I sat down and fixed the chapters right way and sent them back across cyberspace.
Friday morning the download was waiting in my mailbox. Everything was fine, just some clean up and getting rid of all the notes. I did my work and sent the file back. Linda wrote about the wonders of the Internet. It is pretty amazing how all this stuff flew back and forth from coast to coast.
Then it was back to get ready to go to Chicago for among other things, the Printers Row Book Fair. It was very exciting when a link to it showed up in my google alert because my name is in the list of authors. I’ve gone to the fair for the past two years and signed books in the Mystery Writers of America booth, but that doesn’t get your name in the program. You have to be on a panel for that.
On Saturday, June 12 at 2:30 in Digitally Lit Room 1, I will be joining Wendy Lyn Watson, Clare O’Donohue, Heather Webber and Kate Collins to discuss Mysteries with a Cozy Twist. I’d love to see anyone in the Chicago area. I’ll also be signing books in the Mystery Writers of America booth from 10 a.m. to noon on Saturday.
I was going to get my stuff ready days ago. Ha! Even though I have some clothes there, I always carry a fresh supply of black tee shirts and I still have to remember my phone cord and my flash drive, then there’s my computer and all the notes for my sixth crochet mystery which I’m going to work on while I’m there, and I have to decide what crochet project I’m going to take for the plane, and figure out snacks for the plane that aren’t too big and don’t crumble too easily, and on and on.. As usual, I’m doing it all at the last minute.
What about you? Are you ready days in advance when you go on a trip? Or are you chronically last minute like me?
I sent her some chapters Thursday morning. Thursday afternoon they were back with some valid comments. No matter that I had things to do, I sat down and fixed the chapters right way and sent them back across cyberspace.
Friday morning the download was waiting in my mailbox. Everything was fine, just some clean up and getting rid of all the notes. I did my work and sent the file back. Linda wrote about the wonders of the Internet. It is pretty amazing how all this stuff flew back and forth from coast to coast.
Then it was back to get ready to go to Chicago for among other things, the Printers Row Book Fair. It was very exciting when a link to it showed up in my google alert because my name is in the list of authors. I’ve gone to the fair for the past two years and signed books in the Mystery Writers of America booth, but that doesn’t get your name in the program. You have to be on a panel for that.
On Saturday, June 12 at 2:30 in Digitally Lit Room 1, I will be joining Wendy Lyn Watson, Clare O’Donohue, Heather Webber and Kate Collins to discuss Mysteries with a Cozy Twist. I’d love to see anyone in the Chicago area. I’ll also be signing books in the Mystery Writers of America booth from 10 a.m. to noon on Saturday.
I was going to get my stuff ready days ago. Ha! Even though I have some clothes there, I always carry a fresh supply of black tee shirts and I still have to remember my phone cord and my flash drive, then there’s my computer and all the notes for my sixth crochet mystery which I’m going to work on while I’m there, and I have to decide what crochet project I’m going to take for the plane, and figure out snacks for the plane that aren’t too big and don’t crumble too easily, and on and on.. As usual, I’m doing it all at the last minute.
What about you? Are you ready days in advance when you go on a trip? Or are you chronically last minute like me?
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Side Trips
It seems like everything is hitting the fan at one time. I got the go ahead on the synopsis for the sixth crochet mystery and today got my revision letter for You Better Knot Die. Tomorrow (I’m posting this Friday night) is the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books and I’m going to be in the Sisters in Crime booth Saturday from 4-6. Anybody in the area please stop by. The booth is near Royce Hall. Then it’s get ready to go to Malice Domestic in Washington DC. I’m leaving Thursday morning. It’s a chance to meet up with a lot of my writer friends, and hang out in the hospitality room with Joanna. Berkley takes all their writers out to a fabulous dinner at RuthChris Steakhouse (they have a nice vegetarian option) and there’s a banquet on Saturday night. I’m going to be on a panel Sunday morning about red herrings with a book signing afterwards.
The cool thing about the Washington Trip is that the subway station is practically in the hotel. The first time I discovered the subway, I was surprised at how easy it was to get to all the good place. A few stops and you come up in the Mall. One direction is the capital and the other the Washington Monument. And in between all the Smithsonian museums.
This year I’m planning to go somewhere different. I discovered if you take the subway in the opposite direction, it’s only a few stops plus a bus to Old Town Alexandria. I have an book that describes walking tours in and around Washington. That’s where I found out how close Alexandria is to where I’m staying. The book didn’t have any pictures, but it described various old buildings. I find the pictures never really tell enough anyway.
So for now, what it looks like is a bit of mystery to me. I know there is an old apothecary that in the old days had globes of different color water to tell people who couldn’t read when there was an epidemic of some bad disease like plague, cholera or yellow fever. There a Palladian style mansion which interests me because there was a whole thing about Palladian houses in Dead Men Don’t Crochet. I had to write about the style from pictures. It would be nice to see what it looks like in real life.
I know this trip is about meeting readers and spending some time with my agent and editor, but I always like to throw in some tourists stuff. I already signed up for next year’s Left Coast Crime because its in Santa Fe and I’ve always wanted to go there. Last year’s Left Coast was in Hawaii. I loved the day trip I took around the Kona coast. Each night I watched the sunset either from the balcony of my room or from down by the water. It was very cool to encounter a sea turtle sleeping on the black rocky beach.
It’s not going to be all fun and tours, though. I’ll be working on the sixth crochet mystery and the revisions for You Better Knot Die, though that will be mostly during my stop in Chicago after DC.
How about you? Do you like to mix pleasure in with business?
.
The cool thing about the Washington Trip is that the subway station is practically in the hotel. The first time I discovered the subway, I was surprised at how easy it was to get to all the good place. A few stops and you come up in the Mall. One direction is the capital and the other the Washington Monument. And in between all the Smithsonian museums.
This year I’m planning to go somewhere different. I discovered if you take the subway in the opposite direction, it’s only a few stops plus a bus to Old Town Alexandria. I have an book that describes walking tours in and around Washington. That’s where I found out how close Alexandria is to where I’m staying. The book didn’t have any pictures, but it described various old buildings. I find the pictures never really tell enough anyway.
So for now, what it looks like is a bit of mystery to me. I know there is an old apothecary that in the old days had globes of different color water to tell people who couldn’t read when there was an epidemic of some bad disease like plague, cholera or yellow fever. There a Palladian style mansion which interests me because there was a whole thing about Palladian houses in Dead Men Don’t Crochet. I had to write about the style from pictures. It would be nice to see what it looks like in real life.
I know this trip is about meeting readers and spending some time with my agent and editor, but I always like to throw in some tourists stuff. I already signed up for next year’s Left Coast Crime because its in Santa Fe and I’ve always wanted to go there. Last year’s Left Coast was in Hawaii. I loved the day trip I took around the Kona coast. Each night I watched the sunset either from the balcony of my room or from down by the water. It was very cool to encounter a sea turtle sleeping on the black rocky beach.
It’s not going to be all fun and tours, though. I’ll be working on the sixth crochet mystery and the revisions for You Better Knot Die, though that will be mostly during my stop in Chicago after DC.
How about you? Do you like to mix pleasure in with business?
.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Iowa Summer Writing Festival
I got my catalog for the 24th Annual Iowa Summer Writing Festival the other day. For anyone not familiar with the program, it is run by the University of Iowa and offers week long and weekend workshops through June and July.
Thumbing through the catalog brought back memories of the four times I went there. I took magazine writing, two children’s writing classes and one on travel essays. With the exception of one of the children’s writing classes where almost everyone was experienced, most of the people taking the classes were testing their toes as writers.
When I think back on the classes, what sticks in my mind is how I got to know all the people through their writing. It was neat to start out the week as complete strangers and by the end, know their hopes and dreams and inner thoughts.
I loved going to Iowa City. I always stayed at the Iowa House which is the University of Iowa’s student union hotel. The rooms are spartan, but pleasant with their view of the Iowa River. It was literally right outside the building, which ended up a being a problem two years ago when the river flooded. I wasn’t there that year, but saw pictures.
In a weird way I enjoyed the certain melancholy aloneness I experienced outside of the workshops. Once we left class, everyone went their separate ways. I always ate alone at one of the restaurants in the downtown area that was walking distance away. Who would have thought Iowa City would be where I finally got to try Ethiopian food?
I have a lot of snapshot memories. Walking across a field of grass at twilight with a multitude of fireflies twinkling on and off. Watching the river melt into darkness as I worked on my assignment for the next day.
Eating dinner in a noodle house and looking out the window at the eerie yellow sky, not the slightest of breezes stirring, wondering if the tornado sirens would go off.
Then there was the time in the middle of class when the sirens did go off and we had to rush down to the basement as the power went off. Huddled together, we waited while the storm cell passed over.
Walking up a steep hill in the darkness on my way to the local ice cream parlor. The sweet smell inside of the freshly made waffle bowls. Waiting in the long line for my chance to pick a flavor. Then walking back in the darkness with the taste of strawberry cheesecake.
Taking a bus to the Coralville mall and walking in Target and knowing exactly where everything was because it was just like the one near me. Then losing myself in the familiarity and being surprised when I walked outside and realized I wasn’t home.
Before I went the first time, I kept looking at the University of Iowa website and the web cam view of a bridge over the river. Then when I got there and was walking on a bridge, realizing I was in the view I’d been looking at.
I brought what I hoped was a picture book manuscript to the first children’s writing class I took. It was called Monty, Monty, Monty and was about a Scottish terrier with an attitude - are there any other kind? I held my breath when I met with my teacher, a Caldecott award winning author, waiting for her pronouncement on my story. It turned out she and the class both loved it and urged me to send it out. I did, for awhile, and got some positive feedback, but then I got involved with the crochet mysteries and until I started writing this post, had forgotten all about it.
I think the biggest draw to the summer workshops was being in the midst of people for who writing was still such a dream. They were so infatuated with what their doing. Away from their regular life, often for the first time being taken seriously as a writer. My favorite was a woman who was taking home a jar of Iowa City air to put next to her computer as inspiration. I hope it worked.
Thumbing through the catalog brought back memories of the four times I went there. I took magazine writing, two children’s writing classes and one on travel essays. With the exception of one of the children’s writing classes where almost everyone was experienced, most of the people taking the classes were testing their toes as writers.
When I think back on the classes, what sticks in my mind is how I got to know all the people through their writing. It was neat to start out the week as complete strangers and by the end, know their hopes and dreams and inner thoughts.
I loved going to Iowa City. I always stayed at the Iowa House which is the University of Iowa’s student union hotel. The rooms are spartan, but pleasant with their view of the Iowa River. It was literally right outside the building, which ended up a being a problem two years ago when the river flooded. I wasn’t there that year, but saw pictures.
In a weird way I enjoyed the certain melancholy aloneness I experienced outside of the workshops. Once we left class, everyone went their separate ways. I always ate alone at one of the restaurants in the downtown area that was walking distance away. Who would have thought Iowa City would be where I finally got to try Ethiopian food?
I have a lot of snapshot memories. Walking across a field of grass at twilight with a multitude of fireflies twinkling on and off. Watching the river melt into darkness as I worked on my assignment for the next day.
Eating dinner in a noodle house and looking out the window at the eerie yellow sky, not the slightest of breezes stirring, wondering if the tornado sirens would go off.
Then there was the time in the middle of class when the sirens did go off and we had to rush down to the basement as the power went off. Huddled together, we waited while the storm cell passed over.
Walking up a steep hill in the darkness on my way to the local ice cream parlor. The sweet smell inside of the freshly made waffle bowls. Waiting in the long line for my chance to pick a flavor. Then walking back in the darkness with the taste of strawberry cheesecake.
Taking a bus to the Coralville mall and walking in Target and knowing exactly where everything was because it was just like the one near me. Then losing myself in the familiarity and being surprised when I walked outside and realized I wasn’t home.
Before I went the first time, I kept looking at the University of Iowa website and the web cam view of a bridge over the river. Then when I got there and was walking on a bridge, realizing I was in the view I’d been looking at.
I brought what I hoped was a picture book manuscript to the first children’s writing class I took. It was called Monty, Monty, Monty and was about a Scottish terrier with an attitude - are there any other kind? I held my breath when I met with my teacher, a Caldecott award winning author, waiting for her pronouncement on my story. It turned out she and the class both loved it and urged me to send it out. I did, for awhile, and got some positive feedback, but then I got involved with the crochet mysteries and until I started writing this post, had forgotten all about it.
I think the biggest draw to the summer workshops was being in the midst of people for who writing was still such a dream. They were so infatuated with what their doing. Away from their regular life, often for the first time being taken seriously as a writer. My favorite was a woman who was taking home a jar of Iowa City air to put next to her computer as inspiration. I hope it worked.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Going in Circles
The knit and crochet group I belong to has been learning how to knit in the round using two circular needles or circs as the hip woman in the You Tube video called them. Doing anything in the round is much easier in crochet and some of my characters in the crochet mysteries would probably think I was a traitor, but I was curious how it worked with knitting and it was something I could use in the proposal that seems to be taking forever to finish.
For anyone who doesn’t know circular needles are really short versions of knitting needles joined by a cable. One set is already unruly with the plastic cable part snaking around. But working with two at the same time?
When I first tried, I hyperventilated when I looked all the stitches and needles going every which way. I couldn’t imagine that it would ever be easy. Somehow it reminded me of being an O operator. It was a long time ago back before everything was computerized and the closest thing to a cell phone was a mobile phone and there were few of them. Actually the big change was answer machines.
I wore a headset that pinched my ears and I sat hooked into a switchboard. I plugged in cords to make person to person calls. I was the one who said you’re three minutes are up. I also was the one who asked for more money. I could tell how much was deposited by the sound. It was also before the 911 system, so we Os were who you called in an emergency and we summoned help. If someone yelled “help” and dropped the phone, I had to put a trace on the call and get the phone number and address and stay on the line until help arrived. Oh, and I had to fill out some kind of card for each call.
The point to all this is that when I first got the job and was going to be trained, I took one look at the operators and all those cords and clips on the coin phone cords and thought I’d never learn how to do it. Of course I did learn how to do it, and it became second nature. Then I wondered how it had ever seemed impossible.
That’s the cool thing about learning something. It forever changes your world – maybe not in a big way, but it changes it.
So even with dealing with snaking cables and brain freeze when I tried to figure out which stitches I was supposed to work with which needles, I wanted to keep going. Thanks to Linda in my group who sent me the link to the You Tube demonstration, I began to understand what I was actually doing. But I needed to be able to think it through in my head before my fingers got another shot at it.
I let it percolate in my mind and then like a curtain opening and light coming in, the pieces fell into place and I “got it.”
I wouldn’t say I’m flying through knitting in the round yet – I’m closer to making a bracelet than a sock – but it has forever changed my world. When I look at a pattern for making sock using two circular needles, I will now understand. Even be able to picture how to do it in my head.
Learning something new is so cool. First there’s the challenge, wondering if you’ll be able to do it. Then you start and probably struggle. Somewhere there is most likely a black moment when it seems like you’ll never get it. Then the big aha moment and nothing is ever quite the same.
What seemingly impossible thing have you learned to do ?
For anyone who doesn’t know circular needles are really short versions of knitting needles joined by a cable. One set is already unruly with the plastic cable part snaking around. But working with two at the same time?
When I first tried, I hyperventilated when I looked all the stitches and needles going every which way. I couldn’t imagine that it would ever be easy. Somehow it reminded me of being an O operator. It was a long time ago back before everything was computerized and the closest thing to a cell phone was a mobile phone and there were few of them. Actually the big change was answer machines.
I wore a headset that pinched my ears and I sat hooked into a switchboard. I plugged in cords to make person to person calls. I was the one who said you’re three minutes are up. I also was the one who asked for more money. I could tell how much was deposited by the sound. It was also before the 911 system, so we Os were who you called in an emergency and we summoned help. If someone yelled “help” and dropped the phone, I had to put a trace on the call and get the phone number and address and stay on the line until help arrived. Oh, and I had to fill out some kind of card for each call.
The point to all this is that when I first got the job and was going to be trained, I took one look at the operators and all those cords and clips on the coin phone cords and thought I’d never learn how to do it. Of course I did learn how to do it, and it became second nature. Then I wondered how it had ever seemed impossible.
That’s the cool thing about learning something. It forever changes your world – maybe not in a big way, but it changes it.
So even with dealing with snaking cables and brain freeze when I tried to figure out which stitches I was supposed to work with which needles, I wanted to keep going. Thanks to Linda in my group who sent me the link to the You Tube demonstration, I began to understand what I was actually doing. But I needed to be able to think it through in my head before my fingers got another shot at it.
I let it percolate in my mind and then like a curtain opening and light coming in, the pieces fell into place and I “got it.”
I wouldn’t say I’m flying through knitting in the round yet – I’m closer to making a bracelet than a sock – but it has forever changed my world. When I look at a pattern for making sock using two circular needles, I will now understand. Even be able to picture how to do it in my head.
Learning something new is so cool. First there’s the challenge, wondering if you’ll be able to do it. Then you start and probably struggle. Somewhere there is most likely a black moment when it seems like you’ll never get it. Then the big aha moment and nothing is ever quite the same.
What seemingly impossible thing have you learned to do ?
Friday, June 5, 2009
Hank and Me
As I continue my discovery tour of yarn, I have found something surprising. Paying more for yarn doesn’t mean it’s going to be easier to work with. I bought yarn at both of the local yarn stores I stopped in. The garnet colored worsted I got to make a shawl came in sort of a twisted hank rather than a ball or whatever the shape is called that Red Heart and Vanna’ Choice come in. With the Red Heart or all the yarn I’ve gotten at Michael’s or Joann’s, you just find and end and begin with your project. Not so with Mr. Hank.
I’ve heard you can use the back of chair to drop it over while you wind a ball. You can use a friend’s hands to hold it while you roll it in a ball, or you can use a yarn swift. I bought one a while ago, but had never used it. It looks kind of like the underside of an umbrella and comes with a twirly thing that makes the actual ball. I tried to put Mr Hank on the swift and threaded onto the twirly ball maker, but instead of turning it into a nice orb, he turned into a nightmare of tangles. I did finally manage to painstakingly untangle the mess and hand roll it into a ball, but luckily I was watching television which at least made the two hours it took entertaining. Of course, I was sure I had done something wrong.
The next day I took the rest of the yarn back to the store where I bought it. I had noticed they had a yarn swift and thought if they showed me how to do it, I’d be home free. Well, it turned out Mr. Hank 2 was all twisted and even with hanging it on the yarn swift the correct way, it took an hour and a half to wind a ball by hand because it had been badly twisted by the manufacturer. I asked the store owner why the yarn came in hanks and she said it was all about marketing. If it were in balls, shoppers would squeeze them and mess up the yarn. So basically it’s for her convenience, not her customers.
I will say that Mr. Hank 3 did work on the yarn swift and flew into a ball in a few minutes. The same for the hank of yarn made from recycled sari’s.
The cashmere yarn I got last week did come in a nice workable ball, which I certainly appreciated.
When I tried knitting with the garnet yarn it seemed okay to work with. I made a gauge swatch for the shawl and it didn’t split or knot up. I figured that was the least it could do after the pain I went through turning it into balls. And for all that effort, each ball wasn’t that big. All three together barely make one skein of Vanna’s Choice.
The sari yarn was a different story. It doesn’t like being unraveled. The threads come loose and become kind of a halo that grabs onto everything around it. I decided simple was best with it and am making a skinny scarf with double crochets on a big hook. Even though it didn’t want to be unraveled, I fought with it until it came undone. It’s kind of embarrassing, but I had gotten mixed up about which side was up on the scarf and started the next row on the side of it. I am pleased to report that after starting over, it is now going the right way. However, when I picked up some Lion’s Brand cotton yarn to make a scarf, I sighed with relief and my fingers flew and any unraveling that needed to be done was a breeze.
I have big plans for the pink cashmere. I found a pattern for a ruffly scarf that should be beautiful. The question is how will it be to work with?
The good part of all these problems is they are material for the next crochet mystery.
By Hook or By Crook came out Tuesday. Berkley does such a great job with covers. The colors of my three book’s covers look so nice next to each other. I already stopped into a Borders in downtown Chicago and signed their stock. Saturday I’ll be signing books at the Printers Row Book Fair at the Mystery Writers of America booth from 1-3. And next Sunday, I’ll be signing books around noon at the Encino Barnes & Noble along with other members of Los Angeles Romance Authors.
I’ve heard you can use the back of chair to drop it over while you wind a ball. You can use a friend’s hands to hold it while you roll it in a ball, or you can use a yarn swift. I bought one a while ago, but had never used it. It looks kind of like the underside of an umbrella and comes with a twirly thing that makes the actual ball. I tried to put Mr Hank on the swift and threaded onto the twirly ball maker, but instead of turning it into a nice orb, he turned into a nightmare of tangles. I did finally manage to painstakingly untangle the mess and hand roll it into a ball, but luckily I was watching television which at least made the two hours it took entertaining. Of course, I was sure I had done something wrong.
The next day I took the rest of the yarn back to the store where I bought it. I had noticed they had a yarn swift and thought if they showed me how to do it, I’d be home free. Well, it turned out Mr. Hank 2 was all twisted and even with hanging it on the yarn swift the correct way, it took an hour and a half to wind a ball by hand because it had been badly twisted by the manufacturer. I asked the store owner why the yarn came in hanks and she said it was all about marketing. If it were in balls, shoppers would squeeze them and mess up the yarn. So basically it’s for her convenience, not her customers.
I will say that Mr. Hank 3 did work on the yarn swift and flew into a ball in a few minutes. The same for the hank of yarn made from recycled sari’s.
The cashmere yarn I got last week did come in a nice workable ball, which I certainly appreciated.
When I tried knitting with the garnet yarn it seemed okay to work with. I made a gauge swatch for the shawl and it didn’t split or knot up. I figured that was the least it could do after the pain I went through turning it into balls. And for all that effort, each ball wasn’t that big. All three together barely make one skein of Vanna’s Choice.
The sari yarn was a different story. It doesn’t like being unraveled. The threads come loose and become kind of a halo that grabs onto everything around it. I decided simple was best with it and am making a skinny scarf with double crochets on a big hook. Even though it didn’t want to be unraveled, I fought with it until it came undone. It’s kind of embarrassing, but I had gotten mixed up about which side was up on the scarf and started the next row on the side of it. I am pleased to report that after starting over, it is now going the right way. However, when I picked up some Lion’s Brand cotton yarn to make a scarf, I sighed with relief and my fingers flew and any unraveling that needed to be done was a breeze.
I have big plans for the pink cashmere. I found a pattern for a ruffly scarf that should be beautiful. The question is how will it be to work with?
The good part of all these problems is they are material for the next crochet mystery.
By Hook or By Crook came out Tuesday. Berkley does such a great job with covers. The colors of my three book’s covers look so nice next to each other. I already stopped into a Borders in downtown Chicago and signed their stock. Saturday I’ll be signing books at the Printers Row Book Fair at the Mystery Writers of America booth from 1-3. And next Sunday, I’ll be signing books around noon at the Encino Barnes & Noble along with other members of Los Angeles Romance Authors.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
A Second Look at Yarn Shopping
Remember the experiences at yarn stores I wrote about a couple of weeks ago? I decided to give it another shot. I’m ready to start writing the fifth crochet mystery and in this one Molly Pink is going to be learning about yarn. If she’s going to learn, I have to find out about it first. I have already collected some interesting yarns at Michael’s and Joann’s, but the really good stuff is in the small stores.
I picked the two closest yarn stores. After my previous experience I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I went with an open mind. The first store had one woman working the counter and a bunch of women around a center table. I noticed right away they were all knitting. I ended up hanging around for awhile before I was helped. I wondered how these small stores stay in business. I found out. They are busy. She had customers calling and people who’d come in before me to tend to before she could get to me.
I was actually looking for some yarn for a project I’d found in a book. It called for nylon worsted weight yarn, which I hadn’t been able to find at Michael’s or Joann’s. The Knot Garden didn’t have any either, but I found out I could use any worsted weight yarn for the shawl. I’m kind of shy, but I finally explained I wrote a mystery series with a crochet theme. Everyone seemed interested, particularly when I explained the books took place in the area.
Everyone was very friendly and anxious to show me their projects and offer knitting advice. The clerk said if anyone bought yarn there, they were welcome to hang around and get knitting help. They were curious about crochet, but none of them were crocheters. I gave out book marks for all my books and left some on the counter. I left having bought some beautiful garnet-colored shiny yarn for my shawl project.
I’d Rather Be Knitting was only a short distance away. Again there were a group of women around a table, working on projects. The two owners were very friendly and I’d gotten over my initial shyness at the first store, so explained right away about the crochet mysteries and my desire to learn about yarn. Somehow I had expected the yarn to be similar in both stores, but it was completely different. Gorgeous at both places, but each seemed to have different brands and types. The owners told me Kate Jacobs who wrote The Friday Night Knitting Club had done an event at their store, which impressed me. That book is a super hit. They said they might be interested in doing some kind of event with me. We’re going to discuss.
I bought some yarn there, too. A beautiful skein of pale pink cashmere. It cost a fortune, but both Molly and I want to see what it is like to work with. My plan is to make swatches of all the fancy yarn I buy. Molly is going to be doing the same, so it is part crochet adventure and part book research. The owner of the second store assured me the one skein was enough to make a scarf. She showed me one she was making in blue cashmere. She was using big needles and the result was lacy and luscious. She suggested I use a big hook.
I’m sorry to say all the yarn is still in the bags. By Hook or By Crook comes out Tuesday and my editor asked me to write a Dear Reader letter for the Berkley website. I’m going to Chicago on Wednesday. Going away always means lots of stuff to take care of. For any of you in the Chicago area, I’m signing books next Saturday at the Printers Row Fair in downtown Chicago from 1-3 at the Mystery Writers of America booth. I’m keeping my fingers crossed the weather is better than last year when the tornado sirens went off during a thunder storm. But just in case, this time I’m taking my umbrella.
I picked the two closest yarn stores. After my previous experience I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I went with an open mind. The first store had one woman working the counter and a bunch of women around a center table. I noticed right away they were all knitting. I ended up hanging around for awhile before I was helped. I wondered how these small stores stay in business. I found out. They are busy. She had customers calling and people who’d come in before me to tend to before she could get to me.
I was actually looking for some yarn for a project I’d found in a book. It called for nylon worsted weight yarn, which I hadn’t been able to find at Michael’s or Joann’s. The Knot Garden didn’t have any either, but I found out I could use any worsted weight yarn for the shawl. I’m kind of shy, but I finally explained I wrote a mystery series with a crochet theme. Everyone seemed interested, particularly when I explained the books took place in the area.
Everyone was very friendly and anxious to show me their projects and offer knitting advice. The clerk said if anyone bought yarn there, they were welcome to hang around and get knitting help. They were curious about crochet, but none of them were crocheters. I gave out book marks for all my books and left some on the counter. I left having bought some beautiful garnet-colored shiny yarn for my shawl project.
I’d Rather Be Knitting was only a short distance away. Again there were a group of women around a table, working on projects. The two owners were very friendly and I’d gotten over my initial shyness at the first store, so explained right away about the crochet mysteries and my desire to learn about yarn. Somehow I had expected the yarn to be similar in both stores, but it was completely different. Gorgeous at both places, but each seemed to have different brands and types. The owners told me Kate Jacobs who wrote The Friday Night Knitting Club had done an event at their store, which impressed me. That book is a super hit. They said they might be interested in doing some kind of event with me. We’re going to discuss.
I bought some yarn there, too. A beautiful skein of pale pink cashmere. It cost a fortune, but both Molly and I want to see what it is like to work with. My plan is to make swatches of all the fancy yarn I buy. Molly is going to be doing the same, so it is part crochet adventure and part book research. The owner of the second store assured me the one skein was enough to make a scarf. She showed me one she was making in blue cashmere. She was using big needles and the result was lacy and luscious. She suggested I use a big hook.
I’m sorry to say all the yarn is still in the bags. By Hook or By Crook comes out Tuesday and my editor asked me to write a Dear Reader letter for the Berkley website. I’m going to Chicago on Wednesday. Going away always means lots of stuff to take care of. For any of you in the Chicago area, I’m signing books next Saturday at the Printers Row Fair in downtown Chicago from 1-3 at the Mystery Writers of America booth. I’m keeping my fingers crossed the weather is better than last year when the tornado sirens went off during a thunder storm. But just in case, this time I’m taking my umbrella.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The C Word
In the crochet mystery I’m about to start writing, Molly Pink learns about yarn, which in turn means I need to learn about yarn. I know about the basic stuff – the reasonably priced kind you can buy at Joann’s or Michael’s. I want to see in person the kind of yarn I’ve only seen in books. For this I have to seek out small yarn shops.
I tried going into some of these small stores before, but frankly it didn’t turn out well. You would think a small shop keeper would be anxious to help a new customer. Not my experience. I thought it was just me and that I imagined their disdain when I mentioned crochet or asked where the crochet supplies were when all I saw was a wall of knitting needles. Even when I told them about my mystery series, they were weird and not very friendly.
Recently I picked up a book called Hooked for Life Adventures of a Crochet Zealot. It is made up of essay about crochet written by Mary Beth Temple. I happened to randomly pick one last night titled Crocheters, the Silent Majority. Mary Beth reiterates what I had read elsewhere – that crocheters far outnumber knitters, though nobody seems to know by how many. She also brought up hearing about people having the kind of experience I’d had in local yarn stores. To see if it was true, she went to a well known big city yarn store. When she saw that there were only three lonely looking crochet hooks among the huge supply of knitting needles, she asked the owner where the crochet supplies were. Mary Beth said the woman gave her a bemused expression and showed no interest in waiting on her.
So, maybe it wasn’t my imagination after all. Even though it seems crazy even as I’m writing this. How can these little yarn stores afford to be so snobby against crochet?
I will be finding out. Starting tomorrow I’m going give the yarn stores in my area another chance. I want to buy skeins of all different kinds of yarn and make up swatches so I can see what each kind looks like and what it’s like to work with. But before I rack up a big bill, I’m going to buy one skein of yarn and see how the shop keeper reacts to the C word. No respect and I keep moving. I’ll report on what happens.
Have you ever felt discriminated against?
I tried going into some of these small stores before, but frankly it didn’t turn out well. You would think a small shop keeper would be anxious to help a new customer. Not my experience. I thought it was just me and that I imagined their disdain when I mentioned crochet or asked where the crochet supplies were when all I saw was a wall of knitting needles. Even when I told them about my mystery series, they were weird and not very friendly.
Recently I picked up a book called Hooked for Life Adventures of a Crochet Zealot. It is made up of essay about crochet written by Mary Beth Temple. I happened to randomly pick one last night titled Crocheters, the Silent Majority. Mary Beth reiterates what I had read elsewhere – that crocheters far outnumber knitters, though nobody seems to know by how many. She also brought up hearing about people having the kind of experience I’d had in local yarn stores. To see if it was true, she went to a well known big city yarn store. When she saw that there were only three lonely looking crochet hooks among the huge supply of knitting needles, she asked the owner where the crochet supplies were. Mary Beth said the woman gave her a bemused expression and showed no interest in waiting on her.
So, maybe it wasn’t my imagination after all. Even though it seems crazy even as I’m writing this. How can these little yarn stores afford to be so snobby against crochet?
I will be finding out. Starting tomorrow I’m going give the yarn stores in my area another chance. I want to buy skeins of all different kinds of yarn and make up swatches so I can see what each kind looks like and what it’s like to work with. But before I rack up a big bill, I’m going to buy one skein of yarn and see how the shop keeper reacts to the C word. No respect and I keep moving. I’ll report on what happens.
Have you ever felt discriminated against?
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Me and Martha
Even though I was tired from my Chicago trip and had a ton of things to do, I couldn’t resist when I saw the listing in the Sunday paper. Martha Stewart was doing a book signing for her craft encyclopedia at the Borders in Northridge.
I figured it was research since Molly Pink handles bookstore events in the crochet mysteries. I was curious to see what a real celebrity event was like. I was curious about Martha Stewart, too.
The newspaper said the event started at 3 and that’s when I arrived. There were tons of people there already. I heard a rumor that some people had gotten there at 6 a.m.. I found out the hard way that you couldn’t just get in line for the signing. There was a whole protocol set up. First you had to buy the book, then you stepped over to someone who checked your receipt and gave you a colored wrist band. I got a blue one and was told to hang around where I could hear the loudspeaker for an announcement for my group. I was also given a list of rules. The cut off number for wrist bands was 350. There would be no personalizing of books, and while we could take photos from the line, there would be no posing with Martha.
I found that the yellow wrist bands were already lined up, and the greens who followed them were hanging around waiting to be moved to the staging area. The blues were beginning to congregate behind the greens, so I joined them. Everybody was holding at least one heavy book.
I think it must have been an hour before the blues were moved into the staging area, but the time flew by. Most of the people in line were crafters and we all started talking. The woman behind me was a fellow crocheter and we talked granny squares. I handed out bookmarks for Dead Men Don’t Crochet.
At last we moved up and snaked around the bookshelves close to the signing table. Cameras came out and a bookstore employee checked that our books were all flapped with the front page tucked under the book cover to ensure the book would open right to the signing page.
A bookstore employee greeted each person in the line just as we got within sight of Martha, while a bunch of publicists and assistants hung around the table.
At last my moment was there. Martha looked just like she does on television. She said hello in a friendly voice. She noticed my crocheted flower pin and said I was obviously a crafter. I seized the moment and said I wrote a crochet themed mystery series. She countered by mentioning that they had a needlework encyclopedia coming out next year. She signed my book in green ink that perfecting matched the green in the book. Even after signing countless books, her handwriting was beautiful.
In retrospect, I realize I should have offered her a bookmark, but before I could think about it, my book was back in my hand and I was moving on to the next station where a man with big scissors was clipping off wrist bands and I heard an announcement that the purples were moving into the staging area.
The next day there was an article in the newspaper about the signing. Apparently it was the first time Martha had come to the San Fernando Valley in twenty years and the crowd came from all over, as far as fifty miles away. She was on the Tonight show that night and talked about the book signing and all the people who had showed up. It was neat to hear her referring to something I’d been to.
All in all it was a fun afternoon and I got a lot of ideas for my fictional bookstore events. The craft encyclopedia is great, filled with all kinds of things I’d like to make. And the perfect green ink signature makes it extra special.
I just hope that someday my blog sisters and I have book signings so popular we have to use color coded wrist bands to manage the crowd.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
The Other Yarn Art
I have a dark secret. Not only did I read, write and crochet during my personal retreat this past week. I did something else – something shocking, considering what goes on in my crochet mysteries. If one of my character’s knew what Iwas doing, she’d probably step out of the book and throw a fit.
What is this activity that would cause so much turmoil? I taught myself how to knit. Before I go further I ought to mention it is for something else I’m writing, and also out of curiosity so I can figure out what the big deal is about knitting, anyway. I know knitting has been around longer than crochet which might have earned it the first position when people refer to the two crafts together. It is always knit and crochet. Even though I object to the order, I find myself giving knitting first billing, too.
Back to my knitting attempts. I sort of knew how from long ago. I mean long, long ago. A college friend of mine had gone to a fat farm (is that a politically incorrect phrase these days?) and I went to visit her. It was this creepy place in Indiana which, if you weren’t on her diet , had surprisingly good food. It was sort of health resort. I think they were known for their mineral baths and some kind of sour milk drink. I partook of neither. But this has nothing to do with knitting.
My friend had taken up knitting to pass the time and got me to do the same during my visit. I think she’s the one who showed me the ropes or should I say yarns. I have no idea how I cast on the stitches. Maybe somebody did it for me. I just remember using baseball bat size wooden needles and four strands of yarn to make some sort of dress. All the rows were knitted and I didn’t learn how to purl. I think that’s called the stockinette stitch. I did finally finish the dress after I’d gone home and I have to say it was probably the ugliest most unflattering thing I’d ever seen.
I think knitting is a little like bicycle riding in that if you’ve ever done it, your fingers kind of remember what to do even years and years later, but since I’d never learned to purl, my fingers had to work on that one. I discovered purling was no big deal. You just stick the needle in from the top and put the yarn in front of it. I tried doing swatches over and over. My stitches got better and I realized why the edge looked crooked (I had dropped an end stitch several rows back). I figured out how to tell whether a knit or purl row came next if I had set aside my work in mid swatch. If the bumpy side is facing, it time for a purl row. If the smooth side is facing, the next row is a knit one.
I just moved beyond swatches and am going to try the little coin purse from the Klutz knitting book and kit I have. So far the edges look even, but I have to admit, I still don’t get the big deal of knitting. When I took a break and went back to my hook, I felt a big sigh of relief.
What is this activity that would cause so much turmoil? I taught myself how to knit. Before I go further I ought to mention it is for something else I’m writing, and also out of curiosity so I can figure out what the big deal is about knitting, anyway. I know knitting has been around longer than crochet which might have earned it the first position when people refer to the two crafts together. It is always knit and crochet. Even though I object to the order, I find myself giving knitting first billing, too.
Back to my knitting attempts. I sort of knew how from long ago. I mean long, long ago. A college friend of mine had gone to a fat farm (is that a politically incorrect phrase these days?) and I went to visit her. It was this creepy place in Indiana which, if you weren’t on her diet , had surprisingly good food. It was sort of health resort. I think they were known for their mineral baths and some kind of sour milk drink. I partook of neither. But this has nothing to do with knitting.
My friend had taken up knitting to pass the time and got me to do the same during my visit. I think she’s the one who showed me the ropes or should I say yarns. I have no idea how I cast on the stitches. Maybe somebody did it for me. I just remember using baseball bat size wooden needles and four strands of yarn to make some sort of dress. All the rows were knitted and I didn’t learn how to purl. I think that’s called the stockinette stitch. I did finally finish the dress after I’d gone home and I have to say it was probably the ugliest most unflattering thing I’d ever seen.
I think knitting is a little like bicycle riding in that if you’ve ever done it, your fingers kind of remember what to do even years and years later, but since I’d never learned to purl, my fingers had to work on that one. I discovered purling was no big deal. You just stick the needle in from the top and put the yarn in front of it. I tried doing swatches over and over. My stitches got better and I realized why the edge looked crooked (I had dropped an end stitch several rows back). I figured out how to tell whether a knit or purl row came next if I had set aside my work in mid swatch. If the bumpy side is facing, it time for a purl row. If the smooth side is facing, the next row is a knit one.
I just moved beyond swatches and am going to try the little coin purse from the Klutz knitting book and kit I have. So far the edges look even, but I have to admit, I still don’t get the big deal of knitting. When I took a break and went back to my hook, I felt a big sigh of relief.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Left Coast Crime
Even though this posts on Saturday, I’m writing it Friday night. Did I really get home from Hawaii this morning at 7? I was supposed to arrive at 5:30 a.m., but the plane was delayed two hours getting to Kona. The Kona airport is basically outside and it was kind of chilly. All those people dressed in their shorts were shivering. Actually the weather was very untypical the whole time I was there.
It is supposed to rain 11 days a year. It rained four of those while I was there. When the sun finally came out, the wind picked up and was bad enough to make them cancel the whale watching boat ride I was supposed to take. That’s not to say that any of it was uncomfortable. I kept the door to my patio open the whole time and let the air blow in my room. I sat on the beach watching the sunsets (when the clouds made it possible to see them), went on a wonderful trip to the north end of the big island and back with stops at the Parker Ranch and several towns, and watched a sea turtle as it slept on the shore.
It was my first Left Coast Crime conference. I met lots of great people and there were lots of fun activities. Opening night featured a dessert buffet and some getting to know you games. Every night there was some kind of entertainment. They screened a movie or some TV shows and one night there was a nicely done production of a play someone at the conference had written based on a Charlie Chan book. A lot of the actors were from the University of Hawaii at Hilo. They were very actorly in their performance, which I particularly enjoyed. One man seemed to have a signature wave of his arm he used to punctuate a scene. The play was preceded by a luau minus the pig for budgetary reasons. No loss to me the vegetarian.
The panels were fun. My brain is still in tired mode so I hope this makes sense. These panels were the first I’ve done since the crochet mysteries started coming out. It was extremely neat to find out some people in the audience had actually read one or more of my books. I have to admit that me and my fellow panel people all had a hard time with the Hot Sex and Cold Blooded Murder panel because most of the sex in our books is suggestive rather than overt and mostly off scene. I’m not sure what the people in the audience came expecting.
Even with having fun, I managed to get a lot of work done on the book I need to turn in next week. What a great place to work. I’d look over my shoulder and see the ocean – and sometimes rain drops. I also sat on the balcony crocheting samples of the patterns in the book.
Another really nice touch was the gourmet grocery store in the mall a short walk away. Instead of having to eat in a restaurant, I was able to pick up fruit and salads and vegetable sushi. I hate having to eat somewhere and order something and tell them to hold the shrimp, but I still get charged for it.
Hawaii didn’t go to daylight savings time, so between the half of my clocks at home that haven’t been changed to daylight savings time and my brain which thinks it’s earlier than it is, I’m still a little confused. But nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.
It is supposed to rain 11 days a year. It rained four of those while I was there. When the sun finally came out, the wind picked up and was bad enough to make them cancel the whale watching boat ride I was supposed to take. That’s not to say that any of it was uncomfortable. I kept the door to my patio open the whole time and let the air blow in my room. I sat on the beach watching the sunsets (when the clouds made it possible to see them), went on a wonderful trip to the north end of the big island and back with stops at the Parker Ranch and several towns, and watched a sea turtle as it slept on the shore.
It was my first Left Coast Crime conference. I met lots of great people and there were lots of fun activities. Opening night featured a dessert buffet and some getting to know you games. Every night there was some kind of entertainment. They screened a movie or some TV shows and one night there was a nicely done production of a play someone at the conference had written based on a Charlie Chan book. A lot of the actors were from the University of Hawaii at Hilo. They were very actorly in their performance, which I particularly enjoyed. One man seemed to have a signature wave of his arm he used to punctuate a scene. The play was preceded by a luau minus the pig for budgetary reasons. No loss to me the vegetarian.
The panels were fun. My brain is still in tired mode so I hope this makes sense. These panels were the first I’ve done since the crochet mysteries started coming out. It was extremely neat to find out some people in the audience had actually read one or more of my books. I have to admit that me and my fellow panel people all had a hard time with the Hot Sex and Cold Blooded Murder panel because most of the sex in our books is suggestive rather than overt and mostly off scene. I’m not sure what the people in the audience came expecting.
Even with having fun, I managed to get a lot of work done on the book I need to turn in next week. What a great place to work. I’d look over my shoulder and see the ocean – and sometimes rain drops. I also sat on the balcony crocheting samples of the patterns in the book.
Another really nice touch was the gourmet grocery store in the mall a short walk away. Instead of having to eat in a restaurant, I was able to pick up fruit and salads and vegetable sushi. I hate having to eat somewhere and order something and tell them to hold the shrimp, but I still get charged for it.
Hawaii didn’t go to daylight savings time, so between the half of my clocks at home that haven’t been changed to daylight savings time and my brain which thinks it’s earlier than it is, I’m still a little confused. But nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Where Did All the Hours Go?
Is February really gone? I have been focusing so much on working on my fourth book I feel like I have been in a tunnel. Just the same feeling every day – that there aren’t enough hours for everything I want to do. You notice I say want to rather than have to. Want to is so much more positive than have to. I certainly never complain about being bored.
I’m going to the Left Coast Crime Conference in Kona next Friday. When I’m not on panels or going to them, I’ll be finishing my book in my room with a view of the ocean. I’ll be crocheting, too, as I tweak the pattern for this book. And I’ll be watching the sunsets every night.
That’s all for this week because I am running out of hours of today and there is still more than I want to do.
I’m going to the Left Coast Crime Conference in Kona next Friday. When I’m not on panels or going to them, I’ll be finishing my book in my room with a view of the ocean. I’ll be crocheting, too, as I tweak the pattern for this book. And I’ll be watching the sunsets every night.
That’s all for this week because I am running out of hours of today and there is still more than I want to do.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
A Change of Scenes
I left the victim in book four of the crochet mysteries dead on the beach and let my son talk me into going for a walk in the mountains behind us. It still amazes me how we can drive a short distance through some twisty streets of houses, park just before the street ends, and walk into a wilderness. More specifically it’s the Santa Monica Mountain conservancy.
It was a perfect time for a walk. The afternoon had started to fade and the temperature had dropped into the low 60's. The sky was clear except for some clouds that looked like wisps of hair and the recent rains had left everything green and sweet smelling.
The path from where the streets ends led us up to the dirt road portion of Mullholland. We took the opposite turn we usually do and after a short burst of bushes and open area, we passed a large concreted rectangle we think is a helicopter pad or at least we saw a helicopter land there once. It’s surrounded by wild growth and giant hunks of sand colored rock. As we continued, the road turned and there was tall growth on either side with an occasional path going off and disappearing.
When we reached the creepy water tank behind the barbed wire fence we turned off onto an asphalt road that goes a short way and then abruptly ends just before a steep cliff. From there we took a narrow path that led up and around until we reached a summit that offered a fabulous view. The helicopter pad seemed about the size of a postage stamp. Beyond, the San Fernando Valley looked like a sparkling carpet as lights came on. There was still of dusting of snow on some of the taller mountains that ring the Valley. The Santa Monicas aren’t as tall and thanks to the ocean air that finds it way through them, are much greener. As we looked back into the Santa Monicas, we could see mysterious houses tucked into secret valleys that seemed to have no outlet.
The sun was beginning to slide behind the mountains to the west when we started back. By the time we got to dirt Mullholland, the sun was gone and the sky becoming night. Coyotes starting to think about dinner yipped in the distance. We passed pockets of fragrant, cold, damp air that had wound its way in from the ocean. It was completely dark when we reached the street and the car.
Then it was home and back to work on who fed my victim on the beach the deadly s’more.
It was a perfect time for a walk. The afternoon had started to fade and the temperature had dropped into the low 60's. The sky was clear except for some clouds that looked like wisps of hair and the recent rains had left everything green and sweet smelling.
The path from where the streets ends led us up to the dirt road portion of Mullholland. We took the opposite turn we usually do and after a short burst of bushes and open area, we passed a large concreted rectangle we think is a helicopter pad or at least we saw a helicopter land there once. It’s surrounded by wild growth and giant hunks of sand colored rock. As we continued, the road turned and there was tall growth on either side with an occasional path going off and disappearing.
When we reached the creepy water tank behind the barbed wire fence we turned off onto an asphalt road that goes a short way and then abruptly ends just before a steep cliff. From there we took a narrow path that led up and around until we reached a summit that offered a fabulous view. The helicopter pad seemed about the size of a postage stamp. Beyond, the San Fernando Valley looked like a sparkling carpet as lights came on. There was still of dusting of snow on some of the taller mountains that ring the Valley. The Santa Monicas aren’t as tall and thanks to the ocean air that finds it way through them, are much greener. As we looked back into the Santa Monicas, we could see mysterious houses tucked into secret valleys that seemed to have no outlet.
The sun was beginning to slide behind the mountains to the west when we started back. By the time we got to dirt Mullholland, the sun was gone and the sky becoming night. Coyotes starting to think about dinner yipped in the distance. We passed pockets of fragrant, cold, damp air that had wound its way in from the ocean. It was completely dark when we reached the street and the car.
Then it was home and back to work on who fed my victim on the beach the deadly s’more.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
What Dreams Become
Earlier in the week I went up to Northern California to refresh my memory for the fourth crochet mystery that I’m currently working on. The specific spot is called Asilomar Conference Center and it’s located on the outmost edge of a peninsula situated between Carmel Bay and Monterey Bay.
Asilomar is somewhere between a resort and a camp and is set in a forest of Monterey Pines and bordered by plant covered sand dunes. The beach is a short walk away. The sand is silky and white and the waves are huge and sea foam green.
My first trip there was also the first writer’s conference I’d ever gone to. The California Writers Club used to sponsor a yearly long weekend there. All together I went three times. As I walked through the grounds this visit, I was filled with memories of those conferences. I passed the wood framed building where I’d heard some guy speak about a blueprint for writing the best selling novel. If only it was that easy. As I walked the grounds thinking of what I’m writing now, I saw shadow memories of myself sitting in the living room of the Scripps building listening to Ruth Cohen talk about finding an agent. Another shadow of me was in Merrill Hall, the auditorium, hearing Olivia Goldsmith describe her bitter story of how she’d gone from living off her credit cards to being the best selling author of books like First Wives Club. I pitched agents and yawned through a late night session on the inside dope from a Hollywood producer.
As I was taking photos of the dining hall and taking notes about the pine scent in the air and the way the wind feels on your face, I was suddenly stuck with the wonder that the dreams of that yesteryear me had come true. My young adult mystery found a publisher. Two crochet mysteries out already, with another due out in June, and another I’m busy writing, and more after that.
All I could so was smile.
Asilomar is somewhere between a resort and a camp and is set in a forest of Monterey Pines and bordered by plant covered sand dunes. The beach is a short walk away. The sand is silky and white and the waves are huge and sea foam green.
My first trip there was also the first writer’s conference I’d ever gone to. The California Writers Club used to sponsor a yearly long weekend there. All together I went three times. As I walked through the grounds this visit, I was filled with memories of those conferences. I passed the wood framed building where I’d heard some guy speak about a blueprint for writing the best selling novel. If only it was that easy. As I walked the grounds thinking of what I’m writing now, I saw shadow memories of myself sitting in the living room of the Scripps building listening to Ruth Cohen talk about finding an agent. Another shadow of me was in Merrill Hall, the auditorium, hearing Olivia Goldsmith describe her bitter story of how she’d gone from living off her credit cards to being the best selling author of books like First Wives Club. I pitched agents and yawned through a late night session on the inside dope from a Hollywood producer.
As I was taking photos of the dining hall and taking notes about the pine scent in the air and the way the wind feels on your face, I was suddenly stuck with the wonder that the dreams of that yesteryear me had come true. My young adult mystery found a publisher. Two crochet mysteries out already, with another due out in June, and another I’m busy writing, and more after that.
All I could so was smile.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Random Acts of Research
You know how they say when you’re thinking about something, things that relate to it seem to keep showing up? I’m deeply involved with writing the fourth book in the crochet series for now titled Murder and the Marshmallow Stitch and yesterday along with this morning I kept running into things in the book.
We met my son’s girlfriend’s parents for the first time yesterday over Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant. Just after we sat down, the father started talking about his possible allergy to shrimp and since he hadn’t brought an epi pen with, he was going to forgo eating any.
Epi pen, allergy? Wow two important words in my current book. My immediate reaction was to start asking questions about the single shot devices that are used in extreme allergic reactions. I know they contain something like adrenalin and are used to treat anaphylactic shock, but there is more I don’t know. I’m sure the father would know, too. Not only does he possibly have allergies, he is also a retired plastic surgeon. But I stopped myself before I asked a single question. It was Thanksgiving and we’d just met. I didn’t even know if they knew I write murder mysteries. How odd would it have been if out of nowhere I started asking questions about ways to kill people?
After dinner, my husband, son and I went to the movies. As we were watching I felt my eyes open wider as I took in the details on the screen. The action in the story was affected by heavy fog. Wow, sort of like in my book. In the movie it was San Francisco which is almost where it is in my story. Mine takes place near Monterey Bay. I studied what the thick fog shrouding the Golden Gate Bridge looked like and was glad that someone else thought a crippling fog was believable.
And then the capper. This morning when I got up and looked out the window, it was foggy here. Not the thick crippling fog of my book, but foggy enough to see what it tasted like and how it softened the details of the redwood trees in the back of the yard.
A few asides. Although I laughed a number of times, I didn’t care much for the movie we saw - Four Christmases. I thought the tone was uneven, but mostly I just didn’t like the main characters. But on a more positive note, my son is sure his girlfriend’s father would love to talk about the death stuff with me. Yay, another source.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who keeps running into things that relate to what they’re working on. What about the rest of you?
We met my son’s girlfriend’s parents for the first time yesterday over Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant. Just after we sat down, the father started talking about his possible allergy to shrimp and since he hadn’t brought an epi pen with, he was going to forgo eating any.
Epi pen, allergy? Wow two important words in my current book. My immediate reaction was to start asking questions about the single shot devices that are used in extreme allergic reactions. I know they contain something like adrenalin and are used to treat anaphylactic shock, but there is more I don’t know. I’m sure the father would know, too. Not only does he possibly have allergies, he is also a retired plastic surgeon. But I stopped myself before I asked a single question. It was Thanksgiving and we’d just met. I didn’t even know if they knew I write murder mysteries. How odd would it have been if out of nowhere I started asking questions about ways to kill people?
After dinner, my husband, son and I went to the movies. As we were watching I felt my eyes open wider as I took in the details on the screen. The action in the story was affected by heavy fog. Wow, sort of like in my book. In the movie it was San Francisco which is almost where it is in my story. Mine takes place near Monterey Bay. I studied what the thick fog shrouding the Golden Gate Bridge looked like and was glad that someone else thought a crippling fog was believable.
And then the capper. This morning when I got up and looked out the window, it was foggy here. Not the thick crippling fog of my book, but foggy enough to see what it tasted like and how it softened the details of the redwood trees in the back of the yard.
A few asides. Although I laughed a number of times, I didn’t care much for the movie we saw - Four Christmases. I thought the tone was uneven, but mostly I just didn’t like the main characters. But on a more positive note, my son is sure his girlfriend’s father would love to talk about the death stuff with me. Yay, another source.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who keeps running into things that relate to what they’re working on. What about the rest of you?
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