Tonight we set our clocks ahead one hour.  Tomorrow YOU WILL CHANGE THE BATTERIES IN YOUR SMOKE DETECTORS. 

We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog post. 

You might have seen a variation on this making the internet rounds before.  I think it was maybe four or five years ago when I first saw it.  The idea was to ask people to name five famous people they would most like to meet at a party.  At the time I thought it was intriguing because it made me think.  And now that a few years have passed, I realize that the names I’d come up with today would be a little different.  But famous doesn’t necessarily mean interesting (Sometimes the famous are the least interesting.  Um, so what are they famous for?)  And anyway, if I get to choose the five people I want to sit down to dinner with, why limit myself to reality?  So much better to thumb through the pages of fiction and assemble my guest list from a much more entertaining group.  Here’s my list, which is subject to change almost hourly as I think of yet another very cool fictional character:

1. The Dowager Duchess from Dorothy Sayers’ Lord Peter mysteries.  Of all the books in the series, my favorite passage is the letters to and from the DD at the beginning of Busman’s Honeymoon.  She’s a much sharper cookie than she appears at first glance.

 

2. Brother Cadfael from the Ellis Peter’s series.  I’d love to spend some time talking with him.  But not in the 12th century.  He’ll have to come to me.

 

3. Moist von Lipwig from Terry Pratchett’s Going Postal and Making Money.  I really think he and Brother Cadfael would hit it off. 

 

4. Archie Goodwin from Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe mysteries.  Because the Yanks need representing, too, and it would be interesting to pit him against Moist in the wise-cracking department. 

 

5. Laurie R. King’s Mary Russell character.  That will even the numbers up, and I think both the Duchess and Brother Cadfael would like her.

And, of course, all of you are invited, provided I can come to your party, too.  What would your guest list look like?

Ms. Peter’s wrote The Rose Rent. So let’s write The Rent Rose. Maybe several.

So, I went to a B&N near me to get Lani Diane Rich’s Wish You Were Here, because the bookstore in Dayton didn’t have it, and Beth Ciotta’s Evie Ever After, which is the last in the trilogy, the first two being All About Evie and Everybody Loves Evie, all three of which you should go out and read right now. I’ll wait.

… 

Oh good, you’re back. Anyway. I’ve been pining for Evie Ever After since last year after reading the second in the series. The B&N near me only had one copy. The middle top of the front cover was very slightly bent. Okay, maybe you wouldn’t have noticed it, but I did. And there was some black schmutz on the spine. I put it back and walked out of the store. No way was I going to spend $7 (well, OK, no way was I going to take $7 off my gift card…) for a damaged book. I drove 10 miles to the other B&N in my area. This store also only had one copy. And it was in worse condition than the first. The cover was not even applied correctly. The spine was all bunched up and creased right down the center, and the entire cover was pasted on haphazardly, so that part of the spine overlapped around into the front. Nope, not gonna buy it. So what did I do?

That’s right. I went back to the first B&N and got the book with the schmutz. Because while I need my books to be pretty, I also need my fix.

Do you have any habits with your books others might consider odd?

The author is currently off basking in Dayton.  Probably not in the balmy breezes unless the thermostat is set high and someone has brought a fan.  But there will be basking.   Happy Valentine’s Day. 

A few weekends ago, in honor of the inauguration of the new President of the United States, I watched a marathon of movies and tv shows rather heavily featuring patriotic themes, including Air Force One, starring Harrison Ford.  It’s a good, fun movie with lots of opportunities for the hero to whomp on the big bad guys and give the viewer a few vicarious thrills.  I love that kind of thing.  I have several favorite moments in the movie, but the one that I especially wait for comes near the end when the President, played by Ford, gives the main bad guy a vicious kick and growls (as only Ford can do) “Get off my plane!” 

It happens in books, too.  In J.D. Robb’s Witness In Death, there’s a scene where Dallas is feeling a bit guilty for not being more romantic.  Thinking about an earlier conversation with Peabody, Dallas asks Roarke “Would you jump in front of a maxibus for me?”  And Roarke replies, “Absolutely.  They don’t go very fast.”  Hmmm, that one might lose something out of context; but trust me, it’s funny.

Comedy or drama, the best of stories, the ones that really pull the viewer or reader in, often seem to have that kind of hook, that one quote that so perfectly sums up the whole thing, plot, character and genre. 

What are your favorite quotes?

Diana Gabaldon (Outlander series): Jamie Fraser, Lord John Grey (also Lord John series), Murtagh

Sara Donati (Wilderness series): Hawkeye Bonner, Dan’l Bonner, Luc Bonner

Lois McMaster Bujold (Miles Vorkosigan series): Miles Vorkosigan, Aral Vorkosigan, Emperor Gregor

So what do these heroes (not necessarily the protagonists) have in mind? Well, they are ….Nope! That’ll wait ‘til you all give your heroes and the whys.

Villains?

Diana Gabaldon (Outlander series): Jack Randall 

Sara Donati (Wilderness series): Richard Todd

Don McLean’s AMERICAN PIE

A long, long time ago…
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.

But february made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn’t take one more step.

I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.

So bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, “this’ll be the day that I die.
“this’ll be the day that I die.”

Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in rock ‘n roll,
Can music save your mortal soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you’re in love with him
`cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.

I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died.

I started singin’,
(chorus)

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone,
But that’s not how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen,
In a coat he borrowed from james dean
And a voice that came from you and me,

Oh, and while the king was looking down,
The jester stole his thorny crown.
The courtroom was adjourned;
No verdict was returned.
And while lennon read a book of marx,
The quartet practiced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died.

We were singing,
(chorus)

Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter,
Eight miles high and falling fast.
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.

Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause the players tried to take the field;
The marching band refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?

We started singing,
(chorus)

Oh, and there we were all in one place,
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again.
So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick!
Jack flash sat on a candlestick
Cause fire is the devil’s only friend.

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage.
No angel born in hell
Could break that satan’s spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite,
I saw satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

He was singing,
(chorus

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news,
But she just smiled and turned away.
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before,
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play.

And in the streets: the children screamed,
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most:
The father, son, and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died.

And they were singing,
(chorus)

I’m rereading Dorothy Dunnett’s Niccolo series of 8. Takes place in the mid 1400s all over Europe, especially Scotland, Italy, and France. Start with Niccolo Rising. ADVENTURE and INTRIGUES.

I’ve just reread Judith Ivory’s Angel in a Red Dress. Anything Ivory writes is great. She wrote 2 as Judy Cuevas, Bliss and Dance, the only ones that are a series, but don’t have to be read that way. And hard to find. ROMANCES, early 1900s, Regency, etc.

 What do you recommend?

Thurs. was the beginning of the workshops (and the Goody Room, where I saw what made good promotional items and filled up a bag with the stuff). I got to see RSS again (yay! I was very lucky and got to spend a lot of time with RSS, all of it fabulous) and then Dee (first and last time I saw her at the conference; you need to get an elephant to sit on her to keep that CB in one place). The workshop to point out for that day is Watching the Detectives: Peek Inside a Real Detective Agency with Eileen Rendahl, who basically explained all the ins and outs of PI work and life. If anybody has a PI in their story, I’ll be happy to type up my notes from this one for you, cause wow was she informative. The luncheon during the afternoon had a very funny, funny speech by Victoria Alexander, who I must now read in the hopes she is just as funny in her books. I also went to the Moonlight Madness Bazaar (aka time to sell you stuff) and met the DH of a writer/blogger who did magic tricks. Spent more time talking to him than anyone else there (until he started to look like a young Tom Cruise which was a little freaky, cause ew) but he and his wife were very wonderful. Had the best time at dinner with RSS that night too, where I found out some more cool things about her and the family.

Fri. was the first all-day workshop day. There were three especially amazing wokshops. First, The 21st C Heroine: How Far She’s Come and Where She’s Heading (which included on its panel Kesington editor Kate Duffy who is completely hilarious; if you go to RWA next year make sure you go to one of her workshops). We had a very fascinating discussion that I learned a lot from (you burst with romance pride after this one). The second was World Building: Creating Your Own Universe. A lot of it was stuff I knew, and they were referring to contemporaries, but I had a lot of little light bulbs go off, which is the best response to have in a classroom (as opposed to yawning). And third was Sociopaths vs Psychopaths and the Serial Killer with Dr. Cynthia Lea Clark, and I must buy her books cause oh boy, the stuff she knows. I talked about her workshop often afterwards, which garners more strange looks than I was really expecting considering where I was. I also should mention the workshop with SEP and Jayne Anne Krentz, which was more entertaining than informative (not saying it’s a bad thing, I just found it to be so). I’d love to see Jenny with those two doing a ‘workshop’. This was also the night of the CB Get-Togther in Chinatown. I don’t really have words to describe just how it feels to be sitting and talking with CBs face to face. Most of you have experienced it, but it strikes me* every time by how wonderful it all is. Even if they think checking up to make sure they got home safely is something only a mother would do. Like if I wasn’t walking back with Kay T they wouldn’t have made me* do the same thing. CBs. Sheesh.

[BTW: I'm mentioning the names of the omibob workshops I went to because you can download the workshops from the website and you may want to look at a few to get a feel for them if you've never been to RWA. I'm not really suggesting any of the above three- first was more about being there, second was good but basically common sense, and the third will probably have a lot of blank spots as after her first five minutes of speaking we just peppered her with questions and I'm not sure how many she repeated for the mike. I did take good notes in the last one though, so again, will type them up if you so wish.]

Sat. had one very mentionable workshop (though there was another I liked, but mostly just because the people were so wonderful on the panel, all from Dorchester Publishing House)- From Cover Concept to Finished Cover, and this gave me a great view inside the marketing/sales/art dept. Don’t bother getting this one, you needed the images too, but I would love to go to another one like this. After that it was mostly zooming through book signings (cause at this point I really needed more books) instead of workshops. Then it was the awards ceremony, which I dragged Kay T to so I could see Suz emcee. As I said to Kay T, until RSS or another CB is up for an award, or someone like Jenny is doing host spot, I’m probably not going to another one. It was fun, and we got to sit in the finalist section (didn’t see the red rope, I swear officer), but once is plenty until a CB is nominated.

Sun. was not as fun, mostly cause I was leaving and partly because I had a monster headache. RSS, Kay T and I meet up and ate breakfast as lori’s diner (judging by the car in the middle of the place, let’s not have lori doing any driving any time soon). And then it was a plane ride and home, brimming with ideas, a headache, and the desire to go to RWA next year.

I really didn’t mean to do a play by play of the whole conference, but overall I have a few tidbits I picked up during the conference. One, get the vegeterian meal at lunch. Two, find a workshop with Kate Duffy in it. Three, learn as much as possible, but go to to at least one book signing during the weekend. Four, have Kay T drop your raffle tickets in the box if possible. Five, romance writers want to meet you and want to share as much knowledge as they can. Six, it truly is their refrain that the best book to write is the one you want to. Seven, stay in the hotel where the conference is at if possible; it truly is worth the money to be able to drop off stuff you pick up during the day instead of breaking your back (RSS lent me* her room for this reason).

And eight- it’s a magical experience, and I recommend it to anyone who loves romance- whether it’s reading, writing, or doing both with it. The energy you get can bring you into a new place in your writing and life. I’m so glad I finally went to one.

And don’t forget about Dr. T’s Scotland post below.

You remember when you first met. He made you laugh. He enthralled you. He made your heart race. You couldn’t get enough of him. But now, something is missing.

Like page 163.

That’s right, my friend is a book.

It’s been my favorite book for about 6 years or so. I read it at least twice a year; last year more. But there is only so much a paperback can take. The spine is cracked, the binding’s shot, and the pages are falling out.

But I can’t bring myself to get rid of it. It’s always been there for me, so how can I just abandon it? How can I (gasp) throw it away?

Throwing it out is the reasonable option; I would relegate it to the Island of Misfit Books if I donated it to the Salvation Army or the local library—who wants a book with missing pages? But I can’t just leave it to a life of slow decomposition among used coffee grounds, brown banana peels, and dirty diapers.

I finally broke down and bought a new copy. The same exact book, the same friend, only without the dog ears and faded cover. So why do I feel disloyal? It’s almost like an illicit love affair and I am cheating on my beloved with someone younger.

I once read – and correct me if I am wrong because I am sure I am – that Jewish people consider books friends and treat them accordingly with a proper burial when they reach “the end.” This is a lovely sentiment, but not one that would be looked upon kindly by my condo association, let alone the people living below me. So that, too, is out as an option.

So what am I left with?

Free to good home: Friendly, loving book. Likes sitting on lap, snuggling in bed, laughter, and pina coladas, but please don’t let it get caught in the rain. Needs TLC.

I checked the schedule and *gasp* we don’t have a 3rd weekend author!  How can that be?  Any of you random posters want to step up and take permanent duty?

Anyway … I mentioned in a comment that I’m a bit of a purist when it comes to Christmas songs.  I want Nat King Cole singing “The Christmas Song (Chestnuts)” and Brenda Lee “Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree.”  I’m not a huge fan of “new” holiday songs either.  Few of them ever get it right, the whole spirit of the season thing.  And a few I just plain don’t like.  Which ones?  Well, “The Christmas Shoes” for one.  Although I blame it on radio bombarding me with that song relentlessly every year.  First time I liked the song, second time I really listened to it, third time was “what, again?” 

Another one, and I’m dying to know how many others feel this way, is Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas.”  No, no, I’ve got nothing against The King.  It’s those back up singers woo hoo hoo-ing their way through the song.  I hear that first “woo” and it’s like someone dragging fingernails down a blackboard for me.  My radio gets switched off before they make it to the last “hoo.”

I’m also not a big fan of song interpretations.  Interpretation is supposed to be part of art, I guess, but to my mind the original artist – in this case the songwriter – has already done that.  He (or she) is giving us their interpretation of a Christmas song.  The first artist to sing it will usually give it a twist, a little something to brand it to their particular style.  But after that?  After that, my friends, it has had all the interpretation it needs.  If you want to do something different, come up with your own song and leave the beloved standards alone.

There are acceptable exceptions, however.  Reba McIntire’s version of “The Christmas Song” is lovely, a sort of bluesy, piano thing that almost makes me think I can smell those chestnuts roasting.  And Vince Gill did a wonderful instrumental version of “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” that is just plain fun.  I’ve mentioned Mannheim Steamroller’s version of “Carol of the Bells” before.  In their hands it is not the delicate chiming I’m used to; but if the purpose of music is to move you and make you feel something, they’ve clearly accomplished that. 

And for non-traditional, the ‘not really Christmas songs but played at lot at this time of year’ my vote goes to Emerson, Brown & O’Donoghue and “It Doesn’t Have To Be That Way.” 

Which songs to you love to hear ths time of year?  Which ones make you cringe?  Which ones make you sit up and pay attention?