CHANGES—BIG AND SMALL

By Kay Kendall

A few times during my many years, I’ve reached a level of calm stability. My home life and work are nicely balanced. My near and dear ones are healthy and reasonably happy. All seems well.

When I realize I’m in this condition, then I think, ah, this is great. Once this stability becomes stasis, however, I get a little bored. And then things* change, and the hits just keep on a’comin and they don’t let up. At this point, I long to be bored again.

Last August I‘d reached the point of stasis. However, by then I’d learned enough to fear what lay ahead. And, boy, was I right.

>My elderly mother-in-law declined, and my husband spent a month in her faraway city tending to her. She passed on. 

>He immediately was diagnosed with a bad illness and went into gruesome treatment.

>My daughter-in-law had a strange illness that no doctor could fathom.

>A dear friend was diagnosed with terminal cancer. She proceeded to have two strokes. I visited her today in the nursing home.

>My writing had to give way for three months.
>My hairdresser of 22 years retired. 

In short, the roof fell in.                                              

And then the house next door was torn down. See photo.

Now, here’s a funny thing. That house was the worst on our block and had been deteriorating visibly for twenty years. We waited and waited for someone to buy it, to tear it down (this being Houston, after all, and everything gets torn down), and to rebuild. I dreamed of when we'd live beside a McMansion, and our home's value would soar.

When all that finally, finally began to happen, did I rejoice? No, I did not. Instead, I worried. The jackhammers tearing up the cement would hurt our foundation. Our house would develop cracks. The new neighbors would be dreadful. Things, in short, would all go to hell. Or so I worried.

I have discerned a pattern in myself regarding change. After I look forward to—even long for—change, then when it finally arrives, I am displeased. Well, perhaps I do exaggerate. I’m upset a little, and then I do adjust. But not until I have gone through a period of great gnashing of teeth and ranting and raving.

Thank heavens that upset stage has shortened over the years. These days I tend to get on with doing what I must until, one day, I look up and see that everything is all right with my world again. I used to fear I’d get stuck on a cycle I abhorred. Now I know that’s not true. Things do change, whether you really want them to or not. They change.

My husband’s illness has taught me to stay in the half-full position. I eschew the half-empty one. That way happiness does not lie. His condition is dangerous…it could be so much worse. The doctors are fabulous in my large city. He will get well. So the treatment is tough. He will get well. He is lucky. I am lucky.

I now apply this half-full approach to everything I can think of that torments me. I haven't become a Pollyanna. I don’t think everything works out for the best. Instead, I’ve learned good things can grow out of bad. If you only let them.

While all this may not make sense to you, it does to me, and it took me a while to arrive at this philosophical state. I celebrated a major birthday this week, by the way. As my friend (since kindergarten) likes to say, we are still on the right side of the grass.

Once I thought her saying was gruesome. I don’t anymore. It’s accurate. I know I’m lucky to be achieving this large number of years. Some people never do. I'm one of the lucky ones. Tell yourself that, too, no matter what. It can always get worse. Enjoy what you have....By the way, I gave myself a new nickname. You may call me Zen. Or at least…Zen-esque! 

____________________

* For brevity’s sake, I use the inexact term things to cover a multitude of events, conditions, situations, settings, etc. etc 

*******   

Kay Kendall set her debut novel, DESOLATION ROW--AN AUSTIN STARR MYSTERY in 1968. The sequel RAINY DAY WOMEN (June 2015) shows her amateur sleuth Austin Starr proving her best friend didn't murder women’s liberation activists in Seattle and Vancouver. A fan of historical mysteries, Kay does for the 1960s what novelist Jacqueline Winspear accomplishes for England in the 1930s–present atmospheric mysteries that capture the spirit of the age. She is also an award-winning international PR executive who lives in Texas with her husband, three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. Terribly allergic to the bunnies, she loves them anyway! Her book titles show she’s a Bob Dylan buff too. 

Oh, Boy, Doing Income Tax Makes Me Wonder by Marilyn Meredith

I've always done my own income tax even back when I had to do it by hand on all the forms.

No I do it using Turbo Tax, much easier. I have to admit, I keep up with my income from writing and what I've spend at least montly, so it's not such a chore at the end of the year.

No matter what the ease may be now, when I'm all done it does make me wonder why on earth I'm spending so much time writing. My income for all my efforts certainly doesn't make up for how much I've spend on traveling and promotion.

So, you might ask, once you've had this proof why do you keep doing it?

As any writer will tell you, even the ones in similar shoes to mine, it's not possible to quit. Writing is a powerful addiction.

I write two mystery series and if I didn't keep writing, how would I find out what happened to my characters?

As any writer knows, traveling around to do promotion or going to conferences or conventions is not only fun, it's a time to visit with other writers and meet readers. Writers lead fairly solitary lives while working.

(Me at last year's PSWA Convention.)









Now, I have to share that I do have balance in my life because I have a big family, and there's always something going on. We have lots of weddings, and of course the babies follow.


 I'm blessed to live fairly close to most of my family members so I do get to spend time with many of them.

Our three daughters in the middle, me and hubby on either end.

 Wow, I do digress--back to the income tax situation--who cares if I'm not making lots of money, I am doing what I like and have a full life.

Anyone else have any of these feelings?

Marilyn

The Courtesy Strategy



2015 Celebrity Apprentice Cast with Donald Trump

I don’t watch many reality shows, but Donald Trump’s The Apprentice has always fascinated me. When it first premiered, with non-celebrities participating, I followed the program until Bill Rancic won the initial challenge. Each episode, I remained glued to the screen. Then, afterward, I would berate myself for enjoying a show that encouraged folks to undermine their opponents in order to take the prize.

For those of you who have avoided the temptation, please let me congratulate you. The premise is that Mr. Trump brings together talented individuals from all walks of life to be divided into teams, compete against each other in accomplishing business tasks, and eventually be eliminated (“You’re fired”) based on judgments of their work product, their cooperative abilities, and their capabilities to outlast each other. The original prize was the opportunity to manage a Trump-owned enterprise. Later, the participants were limited to people considered “celebrities” (including actors, singers, comedians, reporters, athletes, reality stars, and people generating media attention) who played for donations to selected charities.

So, I weaned myself from the terrible viewing habit, although I must admit some backsliding to watch Omarosa’s manipulative efforts. Of course, I was intrigued when celebrities became involved, and had to see if what I read about Gary Busey’s antics was true. Then, this year, how could I not tune in for Joan Rivers’ last TV appearances?

Leeza Gibbons

There is a more personal reason that the current Celebrity Apprentice appeals to me. It features among the players local girl made good, Leeza Gibbons who grew up in Irmo, South Carolina, a suburb of Columbia, and attended the University of South Carolina. Also, I went to law school with her brother Carlos.

Leeza Gibbons came to prominence as an interviewer of celebrities on Entertainment Tonight. She also hosted her own programs and infomercials and has been a competitor on Dancing with the Stars. She’s beautiful, intuitive, kind, supportive, and the epitome of a lovely Southern lady, which is why she seems to be doing so well in this round of the Celebrity Apprentice.

In the early episodes, Leeza followed a Bill Rancic strategy, remaining low key, but always available and part of the team. She appeared level-headed and evaluated the situations reasonably without making derogatory comments. She even expressed regret and concern when people faced the boardroom. At one point, Geraldo Rivera asked her when she would step up to the plate to be project manager. With demure tact, she managed a non-answer.

Then, the task arose to make a viral video for Chock Full of Nuts Coffee. Making videos is Leeza’s forte. So, she stepped up to the project manager slot, listened to the recommendations of all her team members, and ultimately took charge to direct the process, including making use of a dispute between two female team members and incorporating it into an edgy, controversial film for a conservative product. Even she admitted she wasn’t certain how it would go over because it pushed the envelope, but with her classy presentation, her team was victorious.

Geraldo Rivera

Now, Leeza and Geraldo, two reporters, one respectful and deferential, but savvy, and the other inventive and intelligent, yet erratic, face off in the final challenge that will air tonight (Monday, February 16, 2015). Who will be the victor? Will class overcome brash?

As you can imagine, I intend to watch the resolution. Maybe because I was raised in the South and have seen its manners work successfully in so many settings, I have to admit I’m rooting for a Leeza win. I haven’t felt as guilty following the episodes this time because I saw less of bad behavior being rewarded and more of courtesy and kindness being admired.

What do you think? Is courtesy the preferred strategy? Can it be used for a competitive advantage?

 

I Don’t Want to Blog Today by Debra H. Goldstein

I don’t want to blog today.

Plain and simple – I’m tired, cranky, out of ideas, and grumpy (is that the same as cranky?). I want to be snowed in so nothing will prevent me from lighting a fire, covering myself with Joel’s Alabama afghan, and either putting on a TV show DVR’d during the past the two weeks or finishing the Janet Bolin book I’m halfway through. It isn’t to be.

The book, TV shows, blanket and electric fireplace are all there waiting for me, but I live in the South so, thank goodness, the snow idea is out of the picture. Plus, I have lunch and afternoon meetings beginning two hours from now and then we’re hosting a dinner for twelve (don’t worry, we made reservations). Today is typical of my schedule for the past two weeks. Consequently, I don’t want to blog today.

Up to now, I haven’t minded that my days have been filled with meetings, doctor appointments, house guests, exercise classes, attending two wonderful mystery conferences (Murder in the Magic City and Murder on the Menu), visiting and hanging with dear friends, submitting a proposal, laundry and other mundane things. Add in attending a funeral, moderating a charity debate on the value of latkes vs. hamentashen, and judging a children’s writing contest and you can understand why I’ve been a little short of sleep. I haven’t had time to write a single word even though I know there are short story submission deadlines I would like to meet (I understand it helps to write the short story first) and a revision idea begging me to address it in the new novel I’m almost finished drafting.

I don’t want to blog today, but I will. That’s what writers do.

Debra H. Goldstein is the author of 2012 IPPY Award winning Maze in Blue.  Her second mystery, Should Have Played Poker: a Carrie Martin and the Mah Jongg Players Mystery will be published by Five Star Publications in 2016. Her most recent short story, Power Play, appears in the new edition of The Birmingham Arts Journal (Volume 11, Issue 4 - 2015). Whether or not she wants to blog or introduce you to a guest blogger, you can find her thoughts expressed as a member of The Stiletto Gang every 2nd and 4th Friday and every other Monday on "It's Not Always a Mystery"- http://debrahgoldstein.wordpress.com.

Goldfish Brain

by Bethany Maines

I’m monumentally bad at dates.  The Christmas after I got married my mother-in-law got a new pair of sneakers and she said, “Oh, I wish I’d had these on XX of some-month-Bethany-doesn’t remember.”  And I said, “Really? What happened on that date?” And they all stared at me because it turned out that was the day I got married.  Which may seem a bit rude to my poor husband, but in my defense I also can’t remember what year I graduated from college.  And one time I spent an entire day being really annoyed because my friends kept calling me (I was in the middle of a project) to wish me happy birthday.  Every single call was a surprise.  So, I’m not saying that I will absolutely forget that some day (14th?  15th? No, seriously, what day is it?) in February is Valentine’s Day, I’m just saying that the odds are not in my husband’s favor.  But on the other hand that means if he remembers all that lovely chocolate will be a wonderful surprise.

Unfortunately, this type of memory blockage also means that my memory for VERY IMPORTANT FACTS related to my characters is also somewhat lacking. Like last names, eye color, the details of their backstory.   Given enough time and rewrites it all gets a bit fuzzy.  Bulletproof Mascara, for instance went through 9.5 rewrites (I’m counting the typo catching pass as .5 of a rewrite).  That means that the villain Jirair Sarkassian went from being Texan to Armenian somewhere around draft 6.  And in An Unseen Current (Available everywhere April 28! Available for pre-order on kindle now!!) I dropped an entire villain between draft 1 and 2.  Which wouldn’t be much of a problem if I didn’t insist on writing sequels.  It’s a bit of an embarrassment to have to read your own book to find out what you wrote, but apparently readers insist on continuity and well, just generally making sense.  But having just read Bulletproof Mascara and Compact with the Devil (in preparation for the forthcoming High-Caliber Concealer), I can honestly recommend my books to people.  I’m very funny and my plots actually do make sense.  I give myself two thumbs up.  I probably can’t review myself on Goodreads, can I?

Bethany Maines is the author of the Carrie Mae Mysteries, Tales from the City of Destiny and the forthcoming An Unseen Current.  You can also view the Carrie Mae youtube video or catch up with her on Twitter and Facebook.  Learn more at www.bethanymaines.com

Valentines: Red Hot or Humbug Blue?

by Marjorie Brody

The day for expressing love is just around the corner. Do you look forward to it with glee? Eager to plan what you will do to make the love-of-your-life feel special? Or is your reaction one of a modern day Valentine Scroogette?



Bah, humbug. What’s with Valentine’s Day anyway? Why should we need a special day to show people we care about them? Oh, sure, a kid might have fun that day. She can give out cards to everyone in the class and keep her fingers crossed no one forgets to bring her one. She can give the boy who sits across the aisle and draws Superman pictures he slips to the prettiest girl in the class whenever Mrs. Thomas turns her back, a special card with a lollipop in it. But of course, he'll give the lollipop to her pretty rival. Or, she can eat the chocolates Dad brings home for Mom because he had to work late again even though he promised to make it home in time for dinner and the dinner’s ruined so Mom throws it in the trash and shoves the box at her and tells her she can eat the whole thing herself for all she cares. Phew.

Poor Scroogette. Her experiences with Valentine’s Day are so unlike my own--except that Matthew McCawley did slip me Superman drawings, and I did put a lollipop in his Valentine card.

Actually, my Mom and Dad always sent each other beautiful Valentine cards with sentimental handwritten notes prefacing their signatures. And sometimes gifts. But they’d do the I-love-you cards and gift thing on non-special days, too. Like for an un-birthday. Their motto was to show (and for writers, we know the heightened value of “showing” rather than just “telling”) each other how much they loved each other. Daily. So, Valentine’s Day was only a smidge more special than any other day.

This Valentine’s Day, my husband and I are going to babysit so our son and his wife can have a nice, quiet, romantic dinner alone. We’ll play with the babies and hold them in our laps and tell them stories, and after they are tucked in their beds, my husband and I will cuddle on the couch, and think about the non-Hallmark Valentines we’ve delivered to those we love.

How will you show your love and caring?

Marjorie Brody is an award-winning author and Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her short fiction has appeared on stage, in literary magazines, and in three volumes of the Short Story America Anthology. Her psychological suspense, TWISTED, received an Honorable Mention at the Great Midwest Book Festival and won the Texas Association of Authors 2014 Best Young Adult Fiction Award.

The First Time...

There are all sorts of firsts in life – first kiss, first car, first love… With all due respect to my first kiss and my first love (and no, they’re not the same) the first I remember most clearly is riding down the sidewalk in front of my childhood home without my father holding onto my bike.

He’d let go before and I’d crashed. Spectacularly. I had the skinned knees and scraped fingers to prove it. I told him I couldn’t do it. He told me I could. Lord knows, I wanted to ride that bike. It was pink with a white banana seat, white handles and hot pink streamers. I wanted it so badly I could taste it, so I tried again.

The next time, I stayed upright. I flew. The bumps that, on previous trips, had sent me careening into the neighbors’ lawns were just…bumps. Behind me, my father cheered. Ahead of me, the world opened up like a new Nancy Drew, with me as the heroine and untold adventures hiding around every corner.

On Tuesday, February 17^th, I will experience another first. The Deep End, will release.

I wish my father could hold onto the back of my banana seat and whisper advice – Don’t obsess over rankings, honey. Don’t drive your children crazy checking reviews on Goodreads. Remember, not everyone will like it. He’d be right – about all of it.

He'd also be right if he told me to look out for adventures hiding around every corner.

 

A Good Person to Murder

by Linda Rodriguez

One of the secret benefits of writing crime novels and short fiction is the chance to vicariously kill off people who have worked hard at pissing you off. We’re seldom violent people, we mystery writers, even though we write about murder and lesser crimes. We’re usually polite and kind to our friends and family and gentle with kids and animals. If you know a lot of crime writers, you know we’re mostly very nice people. I believe mystery and thriller writers are the nicest group of writers there are, and I know a lot of various kinds of writers.

My theory about all that niceness is twofold: Nice people may just be drawn to write mysteries and thrillers, or we’re all so nice because we have the chance to work off all our anger in our books. I know I’ve been able to deal with a certain person’s nasty behavior in real life much more easily since I wrote a scene where a similar character was mowed down by reams of bullets in a classic gangland shooting.

For that matter, listening to mystery writers at a professional conference talk at meals or in the bar can be scary for outsiders. We swap good ways to murder, especially in ways that are difficult to prove, and methods and places to dispose of bodies. I’ve watched waitresses and bartenders stand back from a group of us with leery eyes as they overhear bits and pieces of what must seem a violent conspiracy. I suspect the really troubling thing is that all this morbid conversation is always full of great cheer and hilarity.

This ability to extract satisfying revenge on the page can remove lots of resentment and hurt from our lives. That co-worker who goes around behind everyone’s back, telling lies to stir up trouble in the workplace that costs people their promotions or even their jobs—smash her over the head with a fax machine. The senior faculty member who steals your research and passes it off as his own, branding you as a pathetic liar when you protest—how about rat poison in his coffee? The old schoolmate who made you a laughingstock at the last reunion—have her hit and run over by a car. The guy who humiliated and dumped you publicly after “borrowing” all your savings—let a crazed serial killer catch up with him and slash him up. The ex-wife who cheated on you all through your marriage and then took your house and kids to go off with someone else—fake a suicide with a handgun to the head (that your smart detective will see through immediately). The sexually harassing boss who threatens to destroy your career if you complain or don’t let him have his slimy way with you—tie him up naked for kinky sex and smother him with a pillow over his face.

So the next time you’re at a crime writers conference, look around at all those sweet, funny, and kindly mystery authors and ask yourself, “Why are these people smiling?”