Turpentine meets Buffalo Bill

I know, it was billed as Buffalo Bill meets Turpentine, but Turp was the definite underdog and it is my web site. Here is Vicky Panzich of the Next Chapter Bookstore in Woodland, California. (This is a GREAT bookstore. It used to be a hardware store and all of the great hardware ghosts must be roaming around being helpful and interested. It's got a wonderful feel, a gallery running around the upper floor, a coffee shop, a wide and fine array of books, and Vicky and John are friendly and interesting. Go to Main Street and hang around for a while, you'll love it.)

It was a lot of fun to appear with Louis. I didn't realize how nice it was to have a break in between reading passages. While Louis talked (and he can talk) I could sit back, wave at friends, (Louis may have found this very irritating) get a drink of water. I, at one point, took a call on my cell phone. It was Jess and when Louis looked askance at me I said, "It's one of your sons." Next time I'll turn the phone off because the next time it could ring while I am reading.

It was also great to have an expert on the scene. If anyone were to take exception to my depiction of the past, they knew I would put Louis on the case, and no one gave me any trouble at all.

Further, he bought me coffee afterwards and drove me home.

I'm not sure what the perks were for Louis in sharing the podium with me...I didn't buy him coffee or drive. According to the photographs, I did look adoringly at him a few times.

I'll ask him what he liked about the experience. If he can't come up with something good, he's in big trouble. He can usually be counted on to say something sweet and if must be true, because he's the historian.

Old and Gorgeous-it can happen!

It's Thursday, the busy day at our house. I did get a run in, now I'm off to my office. Work, work, work. So- to cheer all of us up who are facing another long day, Pippin is providing comic relief. You can be old and gorgeous. Check out those fangs!

My Cell Phone HELPS ME WRITE!

I'm old enough that a cell phone still seems miraculous to me.  And...I'm guess I'm young enough that I feel good instead of irritated that I can always be reached.  In fact, I am willing to give my cell phone a great deal of credit for the writing I do.

Because I've got it, I can go to my "office" (Starbucks) all day long  and focus on the keyboard not having to worry that my family can't get hold of me.  

Because I've got it I can call people and ask for words that I just can't think of and can't go on without.  (What's that word for...?)

I've made appointments, had interviews, set up schedules...on my cell phone.  

I got the call from my agent saying she had sold my book on my cell phone.  

And today my writing buddy and I did writing sprints together, though we were a hundred miles apart, because of my cell phone.  

My cell phone and my lap top...

Oh, let me tell you how thankful I am for my laptop!   (Another entry)

CRAZYRODENTACTIVITY

I AM THE MAD SQUIRREL OF CORRESPONDENCE!
Yesterday I scuttled, scratched and tapped out 20 e-mails, 8 actual letters, in envelopes, signed, stamped and mailed. Bwahahahahahahah! Today I will be a mere mouse and quietly finish off a few notes that I started yesterday. But I will write. Back to the novel!

To the Breach

It awaits. The 279 e-mails that have been put into your inbox that require some kind of attention. And then requiring filing into folders. For every hour I spend writing notes and e-mails and letters, I spend twenty thinking about it. I compose in my head. I think about how much nicer it would be to write actual letters. I fret over where I will find actual addresses. I worry if I have one more step, that is finding actual addresses, it will be years before I get anything done. It goes on and on.

This morning I had a dentist appointment at 7:30. I am NOT a morning person and definitely NOT a dentist person. I thought perhaps if I went so early it would make things better, not being fully conscious to worry about my teeth, the pain, and the future pain therein.

It was worse. I was cold. I didn't get breakfast. Riding my bike to the dentist woke me up sufficiently to worry and feel pain both. I got bad news.

However, the bad news didn't take long, and I was home by 8. My computer staring at me. I, having faced the worst already, sat down and charged through correspondence. At least a quarter of it. And the day is still young.

Thursday, the day after the reading, a day of eating, and hanging around the airport

Thursday morning I woke and had breakfast with Gingy and Chris and then Gingy and I went to Acequia books, a great used bookstore in Albuquerque run by Gary, a true bibliophile, and Marilyn Stablien a fantastic writer and artist. (Vermin, The Census Taker, a memoir of her travels in India) I bought books, though I had no room in my luggage and the volumes made dognapping Ben a definite impossibility.

Sarah Paine, Graduate Student, writer, assistant extraordinaire, took me to the airport after I had eaten yet another serving of green chile. (Green Chile enchiladas, green chile stew, green chiles on roated chicken sandwich, green chile quesadilla, yes, all in only two days. Why did I gain 2 pounds while I was gone? I didn't even think that was possible.)



At the airport I found that my flight's departure time had been changed from four pm to seven thirty pm. I now had four and a half hours to hang around. Perhaps because of this the airline put a code on my ticket. SSS. When I gave my boarding pass to the guy at security he announced that my airline had chosen me for special inspection. Yahoo.



I stood at the sign with all the s's and waited and waited. I finally yoo-hoo-ed and the security team at the regular line glared at me, snapped to wait. Finally, two young men escorted me to the special machine that would discern if I were carrying explosives in the lining of my bag or not.



Apparently people with heart conditions often get a false positive and have to go through additional interrogation, a process that seems rather ironically dangerous and not a little heartless. The guy told me people do get a little bent out of shape when chosen for special inspection, but he merely crooks a finger and they quiet down real quick when the cops swoop down. I behaved myself.



I ate a quesadilla here. TEN tv sets. Nine were on the Dallas San Antonio basketball game.



Hours and hours, and hours later we were over LA.



in our very small plane.



I finished the Thursday NYT crossword puzzle and then we landed. Hard. It was like the pilot thought the ground was ten feet farther down than it really was. Louis was waiting for me outside of baggage. Ah, home.

Flying to Albuquerque and the reading at BookWorks, Wednesday, November 14th

The vacuum bag at work. This is my pemmican clothing; A long blazer, pair of pants, tights, pajamas, all squashed into a notebook sized space.


The desert is sooo beautiful. New Mexico is gorgeous.


The BookWorks bookstore patrons. I took this picture noting that if we were in a murder mystery I'd be the victim, someone in the audience not wanting to have it known he/she had been there. Thank God I survived.


Preparing to read, enthroned in the large chair, seemingly puzzling over something at the back of the book.


One of the best things about readings is afterwards, having conversations with people I wouldn't usually get to talk to.


Gingy Scharff, aka Virginia Swift. She not only writes REAL history, but also has penned a fantastic mystery series, The Mustang Sally books, which are set in Laramie, Wyoming.


The bookstore was fantastic, but the owners, Nancy (center) and Mike Rutland were even better. Real book lovers, charming, and very hospitable.

Gingy in her garden. I only wish I had gotten a picture of her dog Ben as well. I would have slipped him into my luggage if I hadn't bought so many books.