Twofer Tuesday--A Leprechaun for Your Thoughts

The Three Little Pigs in Santo Domingo

I've started editing A Fly On The Wall. Some of the characters weren't named until later so one of the first things to do was replace the placeholders with the names. It gave me a sense of accomplishment.
The first pass is for fixing obvious errors so I tend not to worry too much about Big Things Needing Fixing, but I've already spotted a glorious mess-up. I compromised by making a note of it to be dealt with later.

Reading took a back seat this past week. I have no reason, it just happened. The days may be getting longer, but they are also going faster.
I'm still reading All Quiet on the Western Front (by Erich Maria Remarque, First Ballantine Books edition 1982). It's compelling, it's stirring, and it's grabbed my innards and will not let go.
Here's a bit:
"We bayonet the others before they have time to get out their bombs. Then thirstily we drink the water they have for cooling the gun."

This is my contribution to the cause this week from A Fly on the Wall. It's close enough to St. Patrick's Day that I thought I should include a selection involving a leprechaun.

"Parsley Wornstaff had not thought his life was going to turn out this way. He was a careful fellow and minded his own business most of the time. In all the hundreds of years of sitting at the end of the rainbow on a desolate hill in Old NewBridge-Barrowsmith he never thought anyone would actually catch him."

Thanks for reading me.
For more or to get in on the fun please see the Women of Mystery.

**
If you're wondering, the photo has nothing to do with the body of this post.

Twofer Tuesday - A Howling Success

I've managed to get a bit more done on the manuscript cleanup. I get distracted quite easily and by the time I get back to it the day is over.
Normally I listen to music when I write and I hadn't been doing that lately. The music I use has nature sounds in it. They relax me and elevate my mood.
The Solitudes (R) series by Dan Gibson is about the best for me with his "Algonquin Suite" CD being my standby. If I'm stuck or can't harness my wandering mind and need to get something done, then that's what goes in the computer's CD drive.
Yesterday I treated myself to "Harmony" with its cloudbursts, loons, and more than five minutes of howling timberwolves. That may not be to everyone's taste, but it sure is to mine.
From the CD's inside:

"Timberwolves atop a lakeside cliff howl inexhaustibly through the night. Their calls filter through the still air of distant hills, leaving a wild and haunting trail."

It helped a great deal. I got several pages corrected in between checking my email, checking Facebook, checking for new LOLcats, and randomly looking things up researching on the Intrawebz.

But what did I do? Can I actually back up the wild claim of getting some work done?
Well, here's a sample from Biting The Dust:

"Night songs filled the air. A snipe laughed and dived as coyotes spread the news."

Thanks for reading me. For more or to get in on the action please see the Women of Mystery.

Twofer Tuesday--Editing Counts, Doesn't It?

Morning fog at Tropes De Collantes

I'm nearly recovered from my trip. Like in the above photo I've been waiting for the fog to clear as being tired does not lend itself to good editing. If a sentence already makes no appreciable sense, then correcting it when tired ain't a help.
I decided on Saturday that I was able to get back at it and have managed to get mark up two chapters in Biting The Dust.
In theory, the corrections are improvements, but I won't know until I start adding them to the file.
Meanwhile, here are more than two sentences from the first page of the first chapter that only needed quote marks changed. I'm sure that correction will hold.
#
"Kid, run to the house and get the shotgun. Never know quite who we might find."
"Ma, you know we don't need a gun."
Kid was secretly thrilled. He loved the hard, cold feel of the barrel and how the butt snugged up against his shoulder like he was born with it.
"Yes, my son. But our guest doesn't know it."
#
It was Saturday before I picked up anything to read, too. I'm only a little way into this book, but so far I think I've made a good choice.
Here's a bit from Christopher Moore's Fluke: Or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings. (Harper, 2003)
" 'You might want to go up in the bow and look for whales, Amy."
"Whales? They're big and wet. What else do you need to know?' "
#
Thanks for indulging me.
For more, or to get in on the fun, please see The Women of Mystery.

Twofer Tuesday --The Beauty of Crap

My mind has been occupied with getting things sorted out for our upcoming trip to Cuba rather than on writing.
The guidebook we picked up was named the Best Guidebook of 2005 by the Caribbean Tourism Organization and its author was named Travel Journalist of the Year.

Here's a snippet:

"Cubans are fastidious about dressing well, especially when going out to the theater or dinner, and for business functions. You may wish to take a dress jacket or cocktail dress for dinners in more expensive restaurants, and for that unexpected meeting with Fidel."
- Moon Handbooks Cuba by Christopher P. Baker (Avalon Travel).

I haven't looked at the hard copy of Biting The Dust and likely won't until the middle of next month.
I felt a bit dry and blocked since I printed it out and knew that I should do something to get the flow going. The question was, what?
Then it hit me--dreck. I have permission to write crap, so why not do it? It'll be fun. Ideas will flow and some of them may even be good.
But what would I write?
The beauty of crap is it doesn't matter. The point is unclogging the drain so the good stuff flows.
To that end I opened up a file and started to have at it. Not to brag or anything, but there's a passage where I cringed so hard I had to close my eyes to finish typing it. I thought it was the worst thing ever until I wrote what I'm offering today.
Without further ado or proper preparation here's a little something from Sara Harris' Interesting Time.

Enjoy.
And I'm sorry.

"She felt a strange sensation just below her knee like she was being hugged. A look of horror swept over her face as she realized the cause.
'Pupster. You stop that. You stop humping my leg. Even if it is a compliment.'

If you're wondering, yes, the title is an acronym.

For more or to participate please see The Women of Mystery.

Thank you for reading me.

Twofer Tuesday – The Second Time is Great

Many long years ago I read The Great Gatsby. It bored me. I could not imagine what all the fuss was about. What was the point?
I could go on, but I think you’ve realized the problem: me.
Of course I didn’t get it. I was stupid and young and had no context. Books like this require someone to have had a life in order to appreciate them.
I had a rescue copy from a sale decorating my TBR pile and a vague notion that I’d get to it again someday. Then I read Lillian Hellman’s memoir and it gets mentioned several times. I don’t recall the words used, but I think at one point Hellman or someone in her circle told F. Scott Fitzgerald it was brilliant and/or his best work.
Obviously, I’d missed the point when I read it in my teens. I can tell you now, on second reading, that I get it. I’m glad I gave it a second go.

Here’s a sample. I’ve sneaked an extra sentence to round out the paragraph.

“Outside the wind was loud and there was a faint flow of thunder along the sound. All the lights were going on in West Egg now; the electric trains, men-carrying, were plunging home through the rain from New York. It was the hour of a profound human change, and excitement was generating on the air.”
-The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald. (Collier Books, MacMillan Publishing Co. Copyright 1925, Charles Scribner’s Sons.)
#
I’m still tapping away at Biting The Dust’s obvious errors.
Here’s a sample featuring one of the God-fearing folk in Saintree:

"Roy Hansom went to church to atone for his sins of the week and if he didn’t have sufficient ones, then he’d go to town early to make some. Roy loved the Lord and it was important to him to beg for forgiveness and absolution."
#
For more, or to find out how to participate, please see the Women of Mystery.
And thank you for stopping by. I appreciate it.
________

It's the Bag Lady's birthday whether she likes it or not.
How about we slip over to her place and make a fuss?

Tuesday Time – Editing Mode

I’ve been a good little writer and kept myself busy with editing and reading last week.
I finished the first edit of The Legend of Shallal on Sunday and it put me at loose ends. I was still in editing mode and wasn’t quite sure what to do beyond wandering around the house bumping into the furniture and apologizing.
That wears thin after a time.
Since I still had my personal editing setting activated I decided to open up the vampire western and do something about the obvious typos. My head’s not really in it, but it keeps me from going back to Shallal.
The weather’s turned suitably nasty, though, so that’s a big help.
It’s good for reading, too. I’ve finally cracked open some Terry Pratchett and am nearly done his first Discworld novel. It’s been out since 1983. Not sure why I haven’t visited Discworld until now, but at least I’ve made it there. It takes me a while, I guess.

From The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett, Corgi Books ( copyright 1983)

“ ‘Yar. Well, I’m not sure about it myself, really. It’s a sort of bet, see?’ said the innkeeper nervously. ‘In-sewer-ants, it’s called. It’s like a bet that the Broken Drum won’t get burned down.’”

#
From The Legend of Shallal here are a few extra lines in the interest of context.

“In the north the Thuliacs high, cracking voices hit a midtone and kept it until their lungs strained. They raised hands and swept them over one another and took another breath of the close air in the tunnel. The tone they loosed was high enough that they had to monitor one another to ensure they were really making a sound.
Beside them at their feet their wolf guard stood at tight-jawed attention. His ears hurt. His mind screamed. His lupine sensibilities were frozen as he did all he could not to howl.”
#
For more, or to find out how to participate, please see the Women of Mystery.
And thank you for stopping by. I appreciate it.
##

Sidenote: this is my 666th post.
Yay!
Not sure what to do to observe it, but it must be celebrated.
Maybe this?

Twofer Tuesday- Catspiration

I decided to crack open a Zane Grey a few days ago. It's been interesting. I can't help but be 12 years old sometimes, though, and his choice of name for the Bad Guy makes me smile. It is unlikely that today this character name would make it to a mainstream novel.
Here are a few sentences from Valley of Wild Horses, by Zane Grey, Pocket Books, copyright 1927.

"Pan's cup was full. The days flew by. Snow and cold were nothing to him. Not even study, and the ever-malicious Dick Hardman could daunt his spirit."

I'm closing in on A Fly on the Wall, I think. I expect to wind it up within a few thousand words.
In this scene the characters in the main frame of the story have gathered at Mrs. Phlebos' house.

"A fluffy cat with the build the feline equivalent of a linebacker strode into the kitchen and rubbed up against Nick.
' This is Pussums Manynaps. He seems to like you. That’s good. If Pussums didn’t I’d have to ask you to leave.' ”




The neighbor's cat, Panther, has been so helpful to me while writing A Fly on the Wall that I thought it ought to be in it. Kitty was the inspiration for Pussums Manynaps.
Above, the Pussums model spends quality time in a cardboard box under the clothestree.

For more or to get in on the fun please see the Women of Mystery.

Twofer Tuesday and Tomatoes

Another week has slipped by. I meant to get more done than I did, but I still got things done. I even wrote some and read a bit, but mostly I played with tomatoes.

My FIL grows some of the finest and he has plenty to share. This meant dusting off some favorite tomato salad recipes and firing them up once more. Tomato season is one the happiest times of the year.

In honor of that my two sentences are from Please To The Table: The Russian Cookbook by Anya von Bremzen and John Welchman, Workman Publishing, 1990.


“In a small bowl combine the vinegar and the garlic and let stand for 30 minutes.
Place the tomatoes and onion in a salad bowl and sprinkle with the vinegar and garlic mixture.”

My contribution to the cause this week is from A Fly on the Wall. In this scene Dr. Phlebos has just told Brelyan and his friend Nick how she had to kill a Kodiak bear when she was out on an expedition alone:

“Hated to do it, but it was him or me. Anyway, that’s my reminder to be more careful when I’m on professional expeditions.”
“And not personal ones?”
“Oh, dear no. If I’m on personal travel I’m someone else’s problem.”


For more, or to find out how to participate, please see the Women of Mystery.

Another Installment of Twofer Tuesday

Here's a bluebird on the Kootenay Plains. I mention birds in my opening sentence so it is tangentially related to today's post. Mostly I just wanted to run a pretty picture.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and it’s Twofer Tuesday time again.
I’m currently reading the second of two books my FIL lent me on curing heart disease. I’m tickled silly about it because I’d never heard of either of them and they’re fascinating and useful.
This week’s sentences are from Dr. Dean Ornish’s Program for Reversing Heart Disease, by Dean Ornish, M.D. (Ivy Books, Ballantine, 1990 and 1996).

In a chapter on opening your heart he looks at expressing feelings as opposed to thoughts and judgments. The two chosen sentences:

“I’m right.
You’re wrong.”

I’m getting toward the end of A Fly on the Wall, but I still managed to cobble together something.

Here the mirror is on offer at a community garage sale. A young child is talking to it. The second sentence is the mirror’s response.

“‘You’re not a person. You have to be a person to speak.’
‘You’re very limiting. Why are you right?’ ”

For more, or to find out how to participate, please see the Women of Mystery.

Two Tuesday-- No Drunk Dogs

There's something about having these prohibitions together than really, really bothers me.

It's Twofer Tuesday again and that means I get to tell you all about this sign. My two sentences that I read are rendered above:

"Liquor and Nudity are Prohibited."

"Dogs are Prohibited Beyond this Point."

Now that we've established there's no getting the dog all likkered up at this British Columbia hot springs we can move on.

From my "A Fly on the Wall":

“No picture. In fact, nothing at all. It’s blank.” Mrs. Ingetuckle looked puzzled.

“This happened once before to me. I got so excited. Thought I’d been rendered invisible.”
“We could ignore you and pretend you’re invisible if it’ll make you happy,” Mrs. Phlebos offered. “We love you that much.”

For more, or to find out how to participate, please see the Women of Mystery.

Two Much Snow Tuesday

The snow hit yesterday and it meant business. We usually have a snowstorm at or near the May long weekend. I sure hope this is it until, say, next month.

Twofer Tuesday again and I can’t say as I got much writing done. Not a lot of leisure reading either, though I managed a bit on the deck the other day before the snow hit.

More from Delusions of Grandma by Carrie Fisher (Simon & Schuster, 1994): “Once during this whole episode Ray gave her a bath. That really got to her.”

I did string a few sentences together, so here they be.

From A Fly on the Wall:

“The two women conferred in the hallway. Neither wanted to take the chance of being overheard by the hamster.”

For more, or to find out how to participate, please see the Women of Mystery.