She's unable to lunch today.
I may not be Miss Otis, but I'm unable to lunch today as well, for an entirely different reason. I'm in Duarte, at the Festival of the Authors, held as a fundraiser by the Friends of the Duarte Library. I was originally invited by my friend Pam Carter Ripling, who writes as Anne Carter. I've come to look forward to seeing her each year at this event.
Lots of my other writer friends have made their way here, not necessarily to make large sales, but to spend a lovely day at the park among books and readers. Today I'll see Jenny Hilborne, Terry Ambrose and Teresa Burrell, to name a few. I'll be missing Jeff Sherratt, who passed away last year.
My first trip to Duarte was my most memorable, in that I got to meet with Ray Bradbury, who flirted with me, even though he was 200 years old at the time. I learned from a friend recently that Ray flirted with anything in a skirt, so maybe I should feel so special, except that I do. Here's the post I wrote about that: http://gaylecarline.blogspot.com/2009/10/lucky-day-wearing-lucky-shirt.html.
I'll give you all a de-brief tomorrow, but I'll leave you with a song.
Someday, when I grow up, I want as much energy as this gal.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Friday, October 4, 2013
It's all about ME
I've gotten hooked on a TV station recently. It's called ME TV, as in Memorable Entertainment Television. (Don't worry, I'm only hooked on two stations, ME and TCM, and neither of them interfere with my writing.)
ME TV has old TV shows, old movies, and generally old stuff. Where else can you watch Perry Mason and Ironside back-to-back and compare the skinny Raymond Burr to the rotund one? Exactly. Only on ME TV. I've been watching obscure episodes of Peter Gunn, Naked City, and even some Twilight Zones I don't remember.
In particular, I've been tuning in on Saturday nights to watch Svengoolie, a wacky host who introduces old horror movies and inserts his very special brand of humor at the commercial breaks. I don't want to ruin any surprises, but rubber chickens are involved. (And BTW, no, apparently I have no life if I'm spending my Saturday nights with a man who looks like he's been punked by Dr. John.)
Last weekend, I saw The Leech Woman. Totally funny movie. Totally not meant to be. So, here's the plot:
Snooty Scientist and his Semi-Okay-Sidekick go to Africa to find a youth potion that they plan to recreate back in the lab, then sell for big bucks and retire. Snooty Scientist has an old, Boozy Wife who is already richer than Rockefeller, and he schleps her along to be his personal youth potion guinea pig.
In deepest Africa, where the huts all have porches, the natives have tools of metal and the ground is so perfectly smooth you might suspect it's a soundstage, our three stooges find an elderly woman who is the leader of the tribe. She gladly tells them of the potion and demonstrates how it works. The recipe is as follows -
1 pinch of magic powder
2 drops of spinal fluid from a freshly dead man (obtained with a claw-like ring)
1/4 cup of water
Stir and drink immediately.
Tribal Queen drinks the potion, twerks a little, then POOF! turns into the drop-dead gorgeous Kim Hamilton. I really wanted her to say "Tada!" but she just gave everyone the And-That's-How-It's-Done look.
Crazily enough, no one was bothered by that second ingredient. Snooty Scientist encourages Boozy Wife to drink the Kool-Aid. Tribal Queen is willing to share, but the recipe only makes enough for one. She stands on her porch and points to her large group of male followers (so very different from a group of large male followers).
"Choose the man," she tells Boozy Wife.
Boozy Wife doesn't even blink. She points to Snooty Scientist. "Him."
Shortly after that, Beautiful Boozy Widow and Semi-Okay-Sidekick steal the magic powder, the claw-ring, and skedaddle. While they are on the run, BBW discovers a couple of interesting things about the youth potion. The effects wear off in around 24 hours, AND afterward you are left looking older than before you swallowed it.
The Semi-Okay-Sidekick learns that you cannot trust a woman who has a claw-ring and knows how to use it.
The rest of the movie returns us to her hometown, where she has to kill a lot of men to keep herself looking good. By the end she has learned one more valuable lesson - the spinal fluid of a woman doesn't work. She should have killed the boy-toy, not his fiancée. As you can imagine, it ends badly for everyone, except perhaps the local funeral home.
Wild, yeah? Got any other crazy-cheap-cheesy movies you'd like to recommend?
ME TV has old TV shows, old movies, and generally old stuff. Where else can you watch Perry Mason and Ironside back-to-back and compare the skinny Raymond Burr to the rotund one? Exactly. Only on ME TV. I've been watching obscure episodes of Peter Gunn, Naked City, and even some Twilight Zones I don't remember.
Last weekend, I saw The Leech Woman. Totally funny movie. Totally not meant to be. So, here's the plot:
Snooty Scientist and his Semi-Okay-Sidekick go to Africa to find a youth potion that they plan to recreate back in the lab, then sell for big bucks and retire. Snooty Scientist has an old, Boozy Wife who is already richer than Rockefeller, and he schleps her along to be his personal youth potion guinea pig.
1 pinch of magic powder
2 drops of spinal fluid from a freshly dead man (obtained with a claw-like ring)
1/4 cup of water
Stir and drink immediately.
Tribal Queen drinks the potion, twerks a little, then POOF! turns into the drop-dead gorgeous Kim Hamilton. I really wanted her to say "Tada!" but she just gave everyone the And-That's-How-It's-Done look.
Crazily enough, no one was bothered by that second ingredient. Snooty Scientist encourages Boozy Wife to drink the Kool-Aid. Tribal Queen is willing to share, but the recipe only makes enough for one. She stands on her porch and points to her large group of male followers (so very different from a group of large male followers).
"Choose the man," she tells Boozy Wife.
Boozy Wife doesn't even blink. She points to Snooty Scientist. "Him."
Shortly after that, Beautiful Boozy Widow and Semi-Okay-Sidekick steal the magic powder, the claw-ring, and skedaddle. While they are on the run, BBW discovers a couple of interesting things about the youth potion. The effects wear off in around 24 hours, AND afterward you are left looking older than before you swallowed it.
The Semi-Okay-Sidekick learns that you cannot trust a woman who has a claw-ring and knows how to use it.
The rest of the movie returns us to her hometown, where she has to kill a lot of men to keep herself looking good. By the end she has learned one more valuable lesson - the spinal fluid of a woman doesn't work. She should have killed the boy-toy, not his fiancée. As you can imagine, it ends badly for everyone, except perhaps the local funeral home.
Wild, yeah? Got any other crazy-cheap-cheesy movies you'd like to recommend?
Thursday, October 3, 2013
They're not who you think they are
Yesterday, my buddy Drew wrote a post about his meeting with a hooker, back when he was working as a broadcast journalist. Yes, it was for a story, you crazy kids. You can read it here: http://crimefictioncollective.blogspot.com/2013/10/that-evening-i-spent-with-hooker.html. As it turns out, the prostitute he met was not the prostitute he thought he was going to meet. The cliché of the hardened woman, abused as a child and strung out on drugs, was replaced with a young girl who worried about being seen on camera because her mom watches the news.
This started me thinking about real people vs. writers' characters. I was at a read and critique at a writer's conference, listening to an excerpt. The writing was clearly strong, and the story had a certain level of intrigue. A young, naïve woman is taken captive and gang-raped by a group of men. They leave the house and she frees herself, finds some clothes, a little cash and...
Stops to heat up a can of soup and eat because she's hungry.
What? Maybe she is hungry, but why not grab a piece of something - bread, fruit, crackers - to go? Maybe she's so traumatized that she's not thinking clearly about getting out of the house before her attackers return. It's possible. But nothing communicated her motivation, and the action didn't seem related to the plot. The soup wasn't Chekhov's gun.
We argued with the writer for quite a while. I don't know if we ever changed his mind. It sure taught me a lesson, though.
A character can be anyone doing anything, but they have to make sense.
Perhaps a member of the family abused the young prostitute and is making money off her. Perhaps her family is struggling financially and she is trying to keep them off the street. There might be several ways to tell her story and make her believable. Since she really exists, there's got to be a way. (I'm sure Drew could find it.)
Perhaps the writer's young naïve woman really is so delirious she stops to heat soup. Perhaps she's not that naïve, she's a badass who sticks around to get revenge. Again, there might be several ways to make her actions understandable.
It's easy to create a character that everyone is familiar with. The geeky computer specialist. The Hispanic maid. The hooker with the heart of gold.
I'd like to suggest that it's just as easy to create a character than no one is expecting. The Hispanic computer specialist who is a body builder in her spare time. The college-educated white man who cleans hotel rooms. The housewife who moonlights as a call girl to feed her sex addiction and get paid for it. These people can exist in stories. The author only has to make us believe.
What are some of the characters you've read about (or seen on the screen) that turned a stereotype on its head?
Give me some great examples and I'll give you a free ebook.
This started me thinking about real people vs. writers' characters. I was at a read and critique at a writer's conference, listening to an excerpt. The writing was clearly strong, and the story had a certain level of intrigue. A young, naïve woman is taken captive and gang-raped by a group of men. They leave the house and she frees herself, finds some clothes, a little cash and...
Stops to heat up a can of soup and eat because she's hungry.
What? Maybe she is hungry, but why not grab a piece of something - bread, fruit, crackers - to go? Maybe she's so traumatized that she's not thinking clearly about getting out of the house before her attackers return. It's possible. But nothing communicated her motivation, and the action didn't seem related to the plot. The soup wasn't Chekhov's gun.
We argued with the writer for quite a while. I don't know if we ever changed his mind. It sure taught me a lesson, though.
A character can be anyone doing anything, but they have to make sense.
Perhaps a member of the family abused the young prostitute and is making money off her. Perhaps her family is struggling financially and she is trying to keep them off the street. There might be several ways to tell her story and make her believable. Since she really exists, there's got to be a way. (I'm sure Drew could find it.)
Perhaps the writer's young naïve woman really is so delirious she stops to heat soup. Perhaps she's not that naïve, she's a badass who sticks around to get revenge. Again, there might be several ways to make her actions understandable.
It's easy to create a character that everyone is familiar with. The geeky computer specialist. The Hispanic maid. The hooker with the heart of gold.
I'd like to suggest that it's just as easy to create a character than no one is expecting. The Hispanic computer specialist who is a body builder in her spare time. The college-educated white man who cleans hotel rooms. The housewife who moonlights as a call girl to feed her sex addiction and get paid for it. These people can exist in stories. The author only has to make us believe.
What are some of the characters you've read about (or seen on the screen) that turned a stereotype on its head?
Give me some great examples and I'll give you a free ebook.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Karma
Karma: Theosophy - the cosmic principle according to which each person is rewarded or punished in one incarnation according to that person's deed in the previous incarnation.
It's a word we throw about a lot without thinking. Specifically the "karma's a bitch" line we use when people mess with us. I'm guessing that a lot of people say that without actually meaning they believe in reincarnation.
I myself believe in reincarnation while I'm still alive to learn something from it. So when I think about karma, I think about being the best I can be in this moment, because I may need someone's good will in the next.
Part of my job as writer-publisher is marketing my books. I try not to do this by shouting Buy My Books all over the internet, or spamming my friends and relatives with invitations to buy my books or otherwise boring the universe with the same broken record.
What do I do instead? Well, for one thing, I spread the word about other authors' books. I share their latest release news, I leave reviews, I offer my site up for blog tours. While I don't ask for reciprocation, the authors who return the favor have a special place in my heart.
For another, I do events. Book festivals, craft fairs, etc. I show up on time, I am considerate of the other sellers, I'm polite to customers, and I thank my hosts. Again, I don't ask for anything special in return, but if I've come back to a place for several years in a row, I'm thrilled when they know me and give me a better spot or some other little reward for my loyalty.
I'm at a point where I don't know what to do about authors who take and don't give, and festivals who treat me like my loyalty to them doesn't matter. I'm still about good karma, about showing up and doing my best. Do I cut my losses and give my good will elsewhere? Or do I keep finding that reason within myself to continue to give them my support?
Is good karma its own reward? What do you think?
It's a word we throw about a lot without thinking. Specifically the "karma's a bitch" line we use when people mess with us. I'm guessing that a lot of people say that without actually meaning they believe in reincarnation.
I myself believe in reincarnation while I'm still alive to learn something from it. So when I think about karma, I think about being the best I can be in this moment, because I may need someone's good will in the next.
Part of my job as writer-publisher is marketing my books. I try not to do this by shouting Buy My Books all over the internet, or spamming my friends and relatives with invitations to buy my books or otherwise boring the universe with the same broken record.
What do I do instead? Well, for one thing, I spread the word about other authors' books. I share their latest release news, I leave reviews, I offer my site up for blog tours. While I don't ask for reciprocation, the authors who return the favor have a special place in my heart.
For another, I do events. Book festivals, craft fairs, etc. I show up on time, I am considerate of the other sellers, I'm polite to customers, and I thank my hosts. Again, I don't ask for anything special in return, but if I've come back to a place for several years in a row, I'm thrilled when they know me and give me a better spot or some other little reward for my loyalty.
I'm at a point where I don't know what to do about authors who take and don't give, and festivals who treat me like my loyalty to them doesn't matter. I'm still about good karma, about showing up and doing my best. Do I cut my losses and give my good will elsewhere? Or do I keep finding that reason within myself to continue to give them my support?
Is good karma its own reward? What do you think?
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
A big fat month of fun!
Wow, it's October already! I did not see that coming.
My October is going to be quite busy, with a capital BEE, It starts with the Duarte Festival of Authors, a fundraiser for the Friends of the Duarte Library, held in the lovely Westminster Gardens Memorial Park. I'll be there on Saturday, October 5th, from early to late. I believe the official hours are 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. but it doesn't matter, I'll be arriving early and staying til the last dog is dead, as they say. (I'm not sure who "they" are, but they're a macabre bunch.)
My mystery buddies will be there, too. Terry Ambrose, Pam Carter Ripling (writing as Anne Carter), Jenny Hilborne, Teresa Burrell, and who knows who else. We call ourselves Murder, We Wrote, and we have a Facebook page, if you're interested. There will be books and authors and food and more. We're supposed to be on a panel together. I'll give you the details when I get them.
Then on the following weekend, I'm in a parade!
Placentia Heritage Day is always the second Saturday in October. There is always a pancake breakfast, a parade, then a day-long lovefest in Tri-City Park. As a trustee for the Placentia Library District, I get to ride in the parade. This will be my second year. I haven't decided whether to wear the tiara again, but I have started to get my waving arm in shape. I never knew how taxing it was to continually wave along the route!
After the parade, I will have a booth in the park where you can buy my books and I'll autograph them. I'll even just stand around and chat with you, because I love meeting people.
I'd love to come home and rest after that, but on Sunday, Oct. 13th, I'll be selling and signing at the Big Orange Book Festival (aka, BOB), held at Chapman University in Orange. I've never been to this event before, so we'll see how it all shakes out. Of course, you'll be getting a de-brief.
Because I will be so insanely busy, I've decided to ramp up the action by posting blogs every day, not just here, but on Snoopy's blog, too! We'll be doing some giveaways, and giving you some surprises.
Stop in every day and see what you could win!
My October is going to be quite busy, with a capital BEE, It starts with the Duarte Festival of Authors, a fundraiser for the Friends of the Duarte Library, held in the lovely Westminster Gardens Memorial Park. I'll be there on Saturday, October 5th, from early to late. I believe the official hours are 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. but it doesn't matter, I'll be arriving early and staying til the last dog is dead, as they say. (I'm not sure who "they" are, but they're a macabre bunch.)
My mystery buddies will be there, too. Terry Ambrose, Pam Carter Ripling (writing as Anne Carter), Jenny Hilborne, Teresa Burrell, and who knows who else. We call ourselves Murder, We Wrote, and we have a Facebook page, if you're interested. There will be books and authors and food and more. We're supposed to be on a panel together. I'll give you the details when I get them.
Then on the following weekend, I'm in a parade!
Placentia Heritage Day is always the second Saturday in October. There is always a pancake breakfast, a parade, then a day-long lovefest in Tri-City Park. As a trustee for the Placentia Library District, I get to ride in the parade. This will be my second year. I haven't decided whether to wear the tiara again, but I have started to get my waving arm in shape. I never knew how taxing it was to continually wave along the route!
After the parade, I will have a booth in the park where you can buy my books and I'll autograph them. I'll even just stand around and chat with you, because I love meeting people.
I'd love to come home and rest after that, but on Sunday, Oct. 13th, I'll be selling and signing at the Big Orange Book Festival (aka, BOB), held at Chapman University in Orange. I've never been to this event before, so we'll see how it all shakes out. Of course, you'll be getting a de-brief.
Because I will be so insanely busy, I've decided to ramp up the action by posting blogs every day, not just here, but on Snoopy's blog, too! We'll be doing some giveaways, and giving you some surprises.
Stop in every day and see what you could win!
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