The Blotter

Some things shouldn't be changed

2011-01-06T08:31:00.000-05:00

There's been a lot of talk lately about the new version of Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn. In case you haven't heard, the word "nigger" has been removed and replaced with the word "slave."

While the "N" word is certainly offensive, removing it from literature is just plain wrong. It's censorship--pure and simple. You don't revise history. Period. And this book IS history.

Read Sean Ferrell's blog. He states his case pretty darn well.

Home Cookin'

2010-12-13T10:02:00.000-05:00

I like my own cooking.

This revelation came to me one Friday afternoon when hubby asked me, "Do you want to go out to eat tonight?"

I thought about it for three or four seconds and said, "Nah. I'll make something." It had nothing to do with the fact that it would require me to shower, fix my hair, put makeup on, and wear something besides nylon workout pants and a t-shirt.

It had to do with a few meals we'd had recently at restaurants. Quite frankly, they sucked.

I'm not going to officially name any of the restaurants, even though I should--as a warning to unsuspecting consumers. It all started a couple of months ago when we went to one chain that serves burgers, sandwiches, and might just have a bird in their name. It was the absolute worst meal I've ever had. I should have known we were in for a bad experience as soon as we walked into the place. The entrance area was packed. Misbehaving little monsters were running rampant while their oblivious parents chatted. The hostess said there'd be a ten minute wait. We were finally seated a good half hour later.

It got worse. We were seated about six inches away from a family with four children under the age of ten. This wouldn't ordinarily be a problem, but the little girl in a high chair seated closest to us was a true demon child. I almost suggested we go somewhere else, but we'd already waited so long, I figured we should stick it out. Bad decision.

After another long wait, our waitress finally showed up and we ordered a couple of beers. Just when I was wondering if she was brewing the beer herself, she came back. Hubby and I ordered fish sandwiches. While we waited, said demon child kept throwing things onto our table. Every once in awhile her mother would say she was sorry, but didn't do anything to correct demon child. Okay, maybe she said, "Honey, don't do that." She should have picked up her precious one and given her a good swat on the backside. Maybe she was afraid the kid's head would start spinning or something. It wouldn't have surprised me.

Believe it or not, there's more. When our food finally arrived I bit into my fish sandwich. IT WAS STILL FROZEN. As in ice particles underneath that crispy fried batter. I took my fork and poked at it. Yep. FROZEN. While hubby ate his unfrozen sandwich, I waited for our server to come back. Ate a few french fries. Waited some more. No server. I finally flagged down a passing waiter after he served another table and told him. He took the sandwich and brought me a basket of fries. When he finally brought a new sandwich, I couldn't eat it. Just the thought of frozen fish turned my stomach. All this time, our waitress was nowhere to be found.

I'll cut to the chase. When it was time to pay, we handed our waitress (who had finally come back) our credit card. Another wait. The credit card machine was broken. She asked if we could pay cash. Um. No. She came back with a manager who stated she'd try to run it the old-fashioned way. Another wait. Finally, the manager said the meal was on the house because she couldn't figure out how to run the card. So, we got a free meal, not because it sucked, but because their credit card machine didn't work. Needless to say, I'll never go there again.

And that's not the only bad meal I've had lately. We went to another chain and I had a hard time picking something because there were too many weird ingredients in things. No, I don't want cranberries, pecans, and who knows what else in my salad. No, I don't want the chicken dipped in Caesar dressing, breaded, fried, and topped with cheese. I want an ordinary grilled chicken salad. Hold the fries. It's not that hard. Sheesh.

Even the lunch I had at our annual SinC Christmas lunch was inedible. And this was at a place that used to have good food. My pulled pork is a hundred times better than theirs.

I got the message. I'm cookin' at home.

Next time we go out I'll stick to beer and dessert.

They're my two favorite food groups anyway.

Remembrance of "A day that will live in infamy"

2010-12-07T09:47:00.001-05:00

Today is the 69th anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. The following is what my mother wrote about that day. She was a 21 year old beautician at the time. She loved to write, and I think she would have been a great one if she'd had the chance to pursue it.

"Well, this day began as usual. Being Sunday, I arose late and just about made it to 12 o'clock Mass at the Point Church in downtown Pittsburgh. After Mass, I followed the Sunday routine by waiting on the corner of Ferry and 3rd Avenue for Cass and Peggy, the three of us then making a dash across the busy streets, startling Sunday drivers by our bold jaywalking, walking briskly up Liberty and into the Jenkins Arcade to avoid the brisk December weather. And as always we looked into the windows of a shop displaying novelty jewelry before leaving the Arcade for another mad dash thru the Penn Ave. traffic and into the lunch room at Walgreen's drug store. We even had our regular order of ham salad on toast and coffee, lingering long enough to smoke at least three cigarettes, tongues wagging while going over the current capers of our clique. Yes, it was the usual Sunday for us. We had nothing more important to talk of than the surprise party we were planning for Jimmy McCloskey's birthday on the 12th. Nothing more important in our frivolous heads than thoughts of Tom, Jack and Larry, members of our clique for whom we three were bearing torches.

We left Walgreen's and walked down Penn, stopping to look at the clever window display in Horne's dept. store. Christmas was in the air. Everyone pushing, crowding, but everyone gay as they watched the huge Santa Claus in the window. As each person turned away from the window, he turned away with a broad smile and laughter in his eyes for the laughter of the Santa Claus brought mirth to all.

We three crossed the street to our car stop, boarded our car and arrived home about 2 o'clock as we did every Sunday. Daddy left for work just after I arrived home, mother was out for the afternoon, and just Joanne and I were at home. We just sat around reading the funnies and after awhile I curled up on the studio couch for forty winks. Joanne woke me in time to start preparations for supper. Mother, Aunt Clara, Anna Mae, Jack and the baby came in around five. We were just about to sit down to the table when Joanne turned the radio on for some dinner music. The program was soon interrupted with special bulletins. This was no longer our usual do-nothing Sunday. This was history in the making. This was an outrage to our government. While the Japanese Consul General was having negotiations with our government for peace, Japan was bombing our territories.

What little supper that was consumed was done so automatically. The coffee pot was twice emptied and the ash trays held too many cigarettes. The thought of war made your blood run cold. I resolved then and there if my business is affected in any way I'll close, store my equipment and do whatever I can to help with defense work. Every able bodied American will be on their toes now.

Peggy and I went to church in the evening for our novena. After church we went to the show where we met Bobby, Cass, Ernie and Jimmy. We stopped and had hamburgers and coffee in a little shop in the Rocks and then came home where we all sat around."

Fascinating, isn't it?

Here's a site that contains links to some of the radio broadcasts that people listened to that day.

A Good Time Was Had By All

2010-12-06T08:13:00.000-05:00

The Pittsburgh Mary Roberts Rinehart chapter of Sisters in Crime had a Christmas lunch yesterday at the Church Brew Works in the Lawrenceville section of Pittsburgh. As usual, I forgot to take my camera.

But I assure you, everyone had a good time. I mean, really. What could be better than the combination of getting together with other writers, food, books, and a former Catholic church turned into a brewery?

While we were waiting for our lunches to arrive, we did our version of a book grab bag. Everyone brings a new or gently used book that they read--wrapped, of course. Our exchange is a bit different than the usual. The first person up chooses one of the pretty packages and opens it. Whoever brought that book then tells the group a little of what the book is about and why they liked it. Then that person picks the next book. It's a fun way get a book you might not have picked otherwise. And if you get one you read already, you can always trade with someone. I have to say, though, the only trade I saw yesterday was for a latecomer who would have received her own book, so we all must have liked our gifts.

The book I got was DECIDER by Dick Francis. I've never read any of his books, so now I can broaden my literary horizons. Or something like that. The book I gave was SWORN TO SILENCE by Linda Castillo. Hubby and I go to the Walnut Creek/Berlin area in Ohio about once a year, so when I saw the setting was Amish country in Ohio, I had to buy it. The protagonist is a former Amish woman who is now the police chief of a small town. She has to track down a serial killer, who may be the same person who raped her years earlier. Good book!

Have you ever participated in a grab bag? What's the weirdest or best grab bag gift you received? Have you been in a book exchange? What was the best book you received?

Yes, Virginia, there is a writer here...

2010-11-30T08:29:00.001-05:00

I'd say welcome back to my blog, but some of you probably visit it more than I do.

Anyway, I'm in the process of redesigning the thing to better reflect the type of book I'm writing now. (Yes, I've been lured over to the light side.) My WIP--soon to be finished--is a funny mystery. At least I hope it's funny. My protagonist is a sarcastic, irreverent, six-foot-tall, red-headed, divorced police secretary, who attempts to solve the murder of the police chief. Her efforts are hindered by her pink Cadillac-driving mother, her ex-husband who happens to be her new boss, the mayor who wants to keep the investigation secret, and the hunky newcomer restoring the local hotel.

I still haven't come up with a title, so I may be asking for help with that. Maybe a contest!

I'll be tweaking the blog design over the next few weeks, so let me know how you like it, and what you'd like to see on here.

More on Gettysburg Casino battle

2010-09-01T12:26:00.000-04:00

This video says it all:

http://www.civilwar.org/video/our-gettysburg-legacy.html

Historians on the Gettysburg Casino Plan

2010-07-01T09:46:00.000-04:00

Historians speak out against the proposed casino only 1/2 mile from the Gettysburg Battlefield:

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/10182/1069580-454.stm

and

http://www.civilwar.org/aboutus/news/news-releases/2010-news/gettysburg-historian-letter.html

I wonder if it's a coincidence that the manuscript I'm sending queries out for has this hot-button issue as a major plot point. As my protagonist, Summer would say, "I don't believe in coincidences."

I just wish I was marketing the book right now instead of querying!

Must be a crime fiction writer...

2010-06-25T13:54:00.000-04:00

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Good to Know

2010-06-11T08:08:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm certainly relieved now. How about you?

Never Mess With a Nun

2010-05-27T09:59:00.000-04:00

I'd bet the guy in this article went to Catholic school. Go Sister Lynn!

Pennwriter's Conference

2010-05-15T16:42:00.001-04:00

I just thought I'd take a few minutes before I go to dinner and post a quick summary of the fabulous Pennwriter's Conference. This year's conference is in Lancaster at the beautiful Best Western Eden Resort. I'm with my usual roomie, Annette Dashofy. Our room is gorgeous, and so is the bathroom--so much so that I took a few photos of the large shower. I'd like something similar at home when it's time to remodel the bathroom.

All the classes have been very informative. My favorites so far have been the one on pitches by CJ Lyons, one on mystery writing by Ramona Long, and one on writing thrillers by Jonathan Maberry. And the session on Effective Social Media and Networking taught by Janet Reid was enough to make my head explode. I guess I have to add Twitter to my repertoire now. Sigh. (Suck it up, I know.)

I observed the open read and critique session last night, too. It was interesting to hear others reading their first page and see what worked and what didn't. And the query clinic today was also an eye opener, and really showed that every agent likes something different in queries. It was fun watching them "spar" over the letters.

We're meeting fellow Sisters in Crime and others for dinner at one of the in-house restaurants, then there's a big social get-together for everyone in one of the ballrooms. If I make it that long!

Breaking and Entering

2010-04-13T07:35:00.001-04:00

Sisters in Crime has a new publication out called BREAKING AND ENTERING: THE ROAD TO SUCCESS, with contributions from many members, including me.

What? You don't belong to Sisters in Crime? Well, why not? It's not just for writers, you know. And it's not just for females. We have many brothers in our ranks. Join now so you can order your copy of BREAKING AND ENTERING!

All for craft

2010-03-26T10:06:00.000-04:00

There's no end to the sacrifices I make for craft.

I'm listening to country music while I write because that's what my protagonist would listen to. If I start talking like Irma Jean, y'all are in trouble.

Ack!

Snow!

2010-02-06T13:22:00.000-05:00

Here's what my back yard usually looks like:

Here's what it looks like today:

And this:

The Dumb Get Dumber

2010-01-29T07:50:00.000-05:00

Every once in awhile something comes up that I just can't help writing about. Sometimes it's an exciting event. Many times it's something that really pissed me off. Once in awhile it's something cute. Most of the time, however, it's something that makes me just shake my head and laugh.

Like this. Go ahead and read it. I'll wait.

Cue Jeopardy music.

Okay. Are you laughing as hard as I am?

I've long been of the opinion that the PETA people are nuts, but this definitely proves it. I mean, really. A robotic groundhog???

Punxsutawney Phil is the most famous animal in Pennsylvania. He has a website. There are 52 chapters worldwide that celebrate Phil and Groundhog Day. You can even eat breakfast and get your picture taken with Phil. There's even been a film called Groundhog Day (one of my favorite movies).

I'd bet that Phil is cared for better than most animals. Hell, probably better than most children. I wouldn't be surprised if Phil brings more income to the town of Punxsutawney than all the businesses there put together. I'm sure they take good care of their little moneymaker.

The PETA people are definitely suffering from HUYAS.*

Here's one of my favorite scenes from the movie Groundhog Day.

*HUYAS--Head Up Your Ass Syndrome

Now I Know

2010-01-17T19:52:00.001-05:00

It seemed like every time I turned on the TV last week there was a commercial for the Starving Artists sale being held this weekend at some local Pittsburgh hotels. The last time I went to one, the so-called art was pretty pitiful, but I'd gotten a couple of decent paintings in the past, so I thought I'd try it again.

Big mistake.

I spent about thirty minutes looking at paintings at the Holiday Inn and the nicest thing I can say is that the paintings were colorful. Most of them looked like someone passed out a bunch of paint by number canvasses to a sixth grade art class.

When I Googled "Starving Artist Sale" I found one site that stated the art was mass-produced for next-to-nothing in China. From the looks of it, it doesn't surprise me a bit.

Gives a whole new meaning to the term "Starving Artist."

The Christmas Shoe Scam Redux

2009-12-17T07:37:00.000-05:00

Since no radio station will take my advice and STOP PLAYING THIS SONG, I've decided to rerun this blog post from last year.

There's one Christmas song that drives me absolutely nuts. Well, there's really more than one, but one in particular not only makes me get up and turn off the radio, it makes me want to scream. I swear if I hear it one more time I'm going to have to hurt someone.

While Dominic the Donkey, and I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas are annoying, and any song with children singing drives me up a wall, the one that really bugs me is The Christmas Shoes.

If you're not familiar with the song (I don't know how you could not be, they play it at least every hour on most stations), it starts out with some guy standing in line waiting to pay for his Christmas purchases. There's a kid in front of him counting out his change to buy--get this--women's shoes.

First off, how many men do you know who would have the patience to stand in line on Christmas Eve while some kid counts out pennies at the checkout? Exactly. Zero. Second, how many times have you seen a boy in line buying women's shoes? Exactly. Zero. Heck, you don't even see too many grown men buying women's shoes. And the ones who do are probably buying them in really large sizes, if you get my drift.

The kid explains that his mother is on her deathbed so he's buying her shoes so she looks nice when she meets Jesus. And the guy in the song falls for it. He pays for the shoes.

Maybe I worked for a police department for too long, or maybe I've read Oliver Twist, or seen the movie too many times, but I think the kid is a scam artist. I picture the urchin looking like this:

Even if the mother was real, would the kid buy her shoes? How many children know what size shoe their mother wears? How many children even know shoes come in different sizes? When was the last time you saw an eight year old boy want to buy anything at all for his mother when he could buy the latest Star Wars toy?

See, I think if the mother exists, she's a crackhead and sent the kid to score something nice that she can sell to get some cash. Who could resist a cute kid with a story about his mother dying?

And if the mother doesn't exist, he hangs out with people like this:

It's a scam, I tell you.

So which Christmas songs are like nails on a chalkboard to you?

Cat Makes a New Friend

2009-11-19T11:37:00.000-05:00

I just thought this was too cute!

Kreativ Blogger, or Annette, I Thought You Were My Friend!

2009-11-06T08:56:00.001-05:00

My good friend, Annette Dashofy has passed a Kreativ Blogger Award on to me. Annette is a fantastic writer, an excellent roommate at conferences, and just an all-around terrific person. Be sure to check out her blog today--there's a really cute photo posted. Although Annette may have had an ulterior motive in nominating me (to get me to actually write a blog post!) I thank her anyway!

The rules for accepting the award are simple:

1) Copy the pretty picture and post it on your blog.
2) Thank the person that gave it to you and link to their blog.
3) Write 7 things about yourself we don't know.
4) Choose 7 other bloggers to pass the award to.
5) Link to those 7 other bloggers.
6) Notify your 7 bloggers.

I got one and two out of the way. I'm not sure anyone really wants to know 7 things about me, but here goes.

1. I'll be married 30 years in August 2010. (Yes, I'm REALLY old.)
2. I won a lot of spelling bees in grade school.
3. When my cousin, Debbi, and I were about 13, we'd go around talking in a British accent. (I have no idea why.)
4. I used to play guitar.
5. When I was a "wee tot" I had an imaginary friend named "Sac Lac." Don't ask. I don't know.
6. I love Big Band music.
7. When my kids played dekhockey, I scored two goals in the kids vs. parents game. (I even had my own hockey stick with hot pink tape on the handle.)

Wow. It was hard coming up with those! Now for my blogger nominees.

The Graveyard Shift. Former cop and all-around good guy, Lee Lofland, tries his best to keep all of us writers on the straight and narrow. Just don't say the word "cordite" around him.

The Kill Zone. TKZ is a group blog featuring Clare Langley-Hawthorne, Kathryn Lilley, Joe Moore, Michelle Gagnon, John Gilstrap, John Ramsey Miller, and James Scott Bell. Most of the time, the topics are writing related but even when they're not, I always learn something new.

Poe's Deadly Daughters, another group blog. This one features mystery writers Sandra Parshall, Julia Buckley, Darlene Ryan, Sharon Wildwind, Lonnie Cruse, and Elizabeth Zelvin. An excellent place to hang out!

That's Church. This blog is written by Virginia Montanez, formerly the anonymous Pitt Girl. Ginny writes about anything and everything that has to do with Pittsburgh. Sometimes rude, sometimes crude, but always hilarious.

I'm going to mention the last three blogs, but not notify the recipients. I'd hate to clog up their inboxes when they should be strictly for the queries of struggling writers. I'd hate for some poor writer's query to bounce because I sent a Kreativ blogger award notice and the mailbox was full. Hey, just trying to do my part for writers everywhere.

The final three:

Janet Reid, Literary Agent. I love, love, love Janet Reid. I only wish I could entice her to see the error of her ways and take me on as a client.

Bookends, LLC--A Literary Agency. Jessica Faust always has something worthwhile to say about writers and the publishing industry.

Nathan Bransford - Literary Agent. Nathan always has good advice. And usually hundreds of comments.

So, that's it. Go check out those blogs!

One More Reason...

2009-10-31T12:48:00.000-04:00

...why the local library closures MUST not happen!

http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/news/s_650812.html

A Small Miracle

2009-09-24T15:02:00.001-04:00

If you live in the Pittsburgh area you may have heard about this story already. I first became aware of Kelly Frey when I read this article in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette on August 26th. I'd seen her before on TV--she's a reporter for local station WTAE, but never paid all that much attention. She was just another on-air personality. Pretty. Did an adequate job. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Boy, was I wrong.

Kelly Frey and her husband, Jason have to be two of the most remarkable people I've read about lately. Earlier this week, their first child, Bennett was born. While this is an ordinary occurrence for many people, for Kelly and Jason it was much more. Before he was born, they knew there was a good chance that Bennett would never take a breath, let alone cry.

During a routine ultrasound at 12 weeks, Kelly and Jason found out that Bennett had holoprosencephaly, a severe defect where spinal fluid takes the place of some brain tissue. Some babies with the defect lack enough brain tissue to even take a breath.

Bennett was born this week. And he was able to breathe on his own. He cried. He yawned.

As I write this, there hasn't been any more information released on Bennett's current condition. I'm praying for a miracle. And so are many, many others.

An organization called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep has documented Kelly and Jason's story in photographs. Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Foundation provides beautiful photos at no cost to parents who are facing the death of their child. They feel that the service not only gives grief-stricken parents concrete memories of their child, but helps with the healing process.

Here is a link to Kelly, Jason, and Bennett's photos. Be warned--have lots of tissues handy.

Keep little Bennett in your prayers. And if you don't pray, this might be a good time to start. The world could use a few more miracles.

Just Because

2009-09-01T11:32:00.003-04:00

I'm posting this just because. Chanel sounds like she was really cool.

What? Okay. My cat, Layla, said I should add "for a dog" to that sentence.

Chanel was really cool--for a dog.

Here's the article:

World's Oldest Dog Dies at age 21--or 147.

Battlefield Preservation

2009-08-27T11:27:00.002-04:00

Here's one more reason why battlefield preservation is an important issue:

Orange County Supervisors Approve Wal-Mart Superstore on Wilderness Battlefield.

To learn about the Wilderness, click here.

Gettysburg!

2009-07-09T08:00:00.000-04:00

I planned on posting this last week for the 146th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, but I was derailed by a computer virus that wouldn't go away. Actually, I kept getting rid of it, but it would keep coming back. I finally reformatted my hard drive and started over. (Which I don't recommend doing unless you don't have anything better to do for about three days.)

But I digress.

Hubby and I managed to get to Gettysburg at the end of June for a couple of days. There is so much to see there, we could have used a week. We were able to squeeze in a two hour long Battle Walk with historian Scott Hartwig on part of the first day's battle. It was hot and humid, with a little bit of rain thrown in, which made it even hotter. It made me appreciate what the soldiers must have gone through. They were there a lot longer than two hours--and wore wool uniforms!

The new visitor center at the battlefield is wonderful. I could spend days in the museum alone. And the restored Cyclorama painting is spectacular. I took a few photos (no flash allowed), but they don't do it justice. I'm not going to post them. You really have to see it in person.

One thing that disappointed me was that one of the best restaurants there was now gone. I really liked The Gingerbread Man and it's now a sports bar. Tell me. Do we really need another sports bar? Fortunately, there are several other great restaurants. We went to The Pub instead. It was excellent. They have really, really good French Fries.

It was a great trip but next time I think we need a few more days.

My first born suggested that I post the article I wrote way back in 1994 about our trip to Gettysburg. It was our first trip there with the kids, and also my first published article. It appeared in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette in September 1994. Take into account that this was written fifteen years ago, so much of it is outdated. It's a nice trip down memory lane, though, especially since my boys are now 25 and 21. Sigh. I've also resisted the urge to edit it, so here it is.

1863 Battle of Gettysburg Just a 4-Hour Car Ride Away

Even though the roads are filled with cars and hundreds of people are walking around, an eerie stillness lies over the battlefields at Gettysburg. As I listened to the park ranger explain the details of the third day of the Battle of Gettysburg, I could almost hear the thunder of cannon fire and the rebel yells of the 12,000 Confederate soldiers charging toward the small thicket of trees beside us.

Ten-year-old Andrew sat with me and listened intently while my husband watched Josh, our 6-year-old, hunt for "bullets." A few minutes later, Josh ran over and whispered, "Look, I found a bullet!"

I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was only some kind of a seed or a nut that fell off one of the trees. To 6-year-olds, bullets and cannons are the best things about Gettysburg.

When my husband and I first thought of going to Gettysburg for vacation, we weren't sure what the kids would think. We were pleasantly surprised that they liked the idea. Andy likes anything historical and Josh likes whatever Andy likes--this year, anyway.

Gettysburg is only four hours from Pittsburgh, which is just long enough with two active boys in the back seat. We arrived at our hotel, the historic Gettysburg Hotel, built in 1790, before either one of them did any major damage to each other or to the minivan.

Over the next few days, we did all the usual tourist things, like visit the wax museum and the souvenir shops. The kids each bought a kepi, the cap that most of the soldiers wore. Andy bought Union blue, while Josh, always the rebel, had to get the gray.

The gray cap came in handy once when my husband was waiting to cross the street with Josh. A car stopped and the driver waved for them to cross. Jerry waved a thanks to him and the driver called out in a southern accent, "He's wearing the right hat!" Jerry figured it wouldn't be a good time to tell him he's really a Yankee.

The best way to tour the battlefield, especially with kids, is to buy or rent a cassette tape to play in your car. It rents for about $11, and sells for $13. We bought a tape and Andy has even listened to it since we've been home. The tape directs you to the different battle sites and monuments and comes complete with sound effects.

You also can ride on a tour bus or take a battlefield guide in your car. We didn't like the idea of a crowded bus and I think the Park Service requires you to return their guides alive at the end of the tour, so that wasn't an option with two kids. Also, with the tape, you can stop when and where you want. We spent more time on Little Round Top and at Devil's Den so the kids could play on the rocks, than we would have on a tour.

The Park Service also offers "Ranger Walks." We went to one at dusk at the amphitheater in the woods. The ranger explained how photographs were taken back in the 1860s. The next day, we also went on a 40-minute walk where the ranger detailed the third day of battle, known as Pickett's Charge. Andy can now explain the details of the battle to anyone, whether they want to know or not. At least he should ace his test on the Civil War in fifth-grade American history.

Another highlight of the trip for the kids was the "Ghosts of Gettysburg Walking Tour." At dark, one of the students from Gettysburg College takes a group of people (at $6 a head) for a walk through the town and the college and tells stories of ghosts that are supposed to haunt the area. In one story, our guide described how the ghost of a woman walks the campus at night, looking for her lover. Apparently, she and her boyfriend were to jump from the tower at the same time. She jumped--he didn't. Figures.

A few days after we came home, we watched the movie "Gettysburg" that I had taped before vacation. The kids really liked seeing what had happened at the places they had just seen. Josh was fascinated with Col. Joshua Chamberlain, who saved Little Round Top from the Confederates, I think because they share the same first name.

It was a good experience for them. A lot of times, we think that children are bored with anything educational, when, in fact, the opposite is true. It just depends on the way it is presented to them. They even want to return to Gettysburg to see one of the reenactments that they have every July. Maybe they'll even be one of the reenactors someday. Right now, as I write this, I can hear Josh outside yelling, "Charge!" He's Col. Joshua Chamberlain, leading a bayonet charge down the slopes of Little Round Top.

For the record, Andy is now a historian and still explains the details of the battle to anyone, whether they want to hear it or not. And Josh is still a rebel--he does brain/memory research in a lab at Pitt. He no longer goes charging down hills, unless it's down to Forbes Avenue in Oakland (PA) and he's heading to Caribou Coffee.

Here's a few more photos, too.

Cemetery Hill

On Little Round Top

McPherson Barn

On McPherson Ridge

Railroad Cut (where the first victim is found in Buried Lies)

A Capitol Time

2009-06-11T05:00:00.002-04:00

A couple of weeks ago, hubby and I went to visit our firstborn who lives in Virginia. He works at the US Capitol, and on Saturday afternoon he gave us a personal tour of the building. I took lots of pictures, so I thought I'd give everyone a little mini-tour.

The first photo shows the view of the Capitol as we approached from the Capitol South Metro station.

Next, is the view from the other side of the building.

This is the inside of the new Visitor's Center, which opened in December 2008.

Inside the Rotunda.

Statuary Hall.

Old Supreme Court Chamber. This was used by the Supreme Court from 1810 until 1860.

The Brumidi Corridors on the first floor of the Senate Wing.

The view from the top of the Old Post Office.

The riverfront in Alexandria.

If you've never been to our nation's capital, I highly recommend it. It's extremely easy to get around the city (I love the Metro!), the people are friendly, the buildings are really cool, and for history geeks like me, there's plenty to do. Make those reservations now!

Get Used To It

2009-04-30T10:52:00.003-04:00

There was an article in the Wall Street Journal Wednesday about the rejection letters students have received from colleges. Due to the large number of applicants, more students than ever are being rejected by the schools of their choice. Back in the Dark Ages, when I was in high school, we applied to one or two schools and most likely got accepted by both. We didn't have to apply to ten or fifteen and be rejected by most. We spent our senior year partying and having fun instead of sitting at a computer filling out applications.

Some of these rejected students have created a "rejection wall" on a message board. Colleges are rated on how harsh or how compassionate the rejections are.

Rejections ranged from downright cruel-- "The deans were obliged to select from among candidates who clearly could do sound work at Bates" (Bates College)-- to the very nice but wishy-washy "Past experience suggests that the particular college a student attends is far less important than what the student does to develop his or her strengths and talents over the next four years" (Harvard). Stanford tells students that appeals will not be considered. Duke wants rejectees to know that they'll "find an institution at which you will be happy."

I couldn't help but see the parallels between these letters and the rejection letters most writers have seen at some point in their careers. Come to think of it, looking for an agent is a lot like searching for that perfect college. Students pore over college websites checking out majors, course requirements and activities. Writers spend hours researching agents to see what they represent, who their clients are and how many sales they've made. Students spend weeks working on the application package and essay, while writers agonize over the perfect hook and query letter.

The rejections are similar, too. Some are harsh, like the one from Bates College. I once had one that said, "I thought it would be better." Ouch. Others are kind, "while I liked this a lot, it's just not right for my list, but please think of me for your next project." Some agents say that you'll surely find another agent who will love it.

Although rejection isn't easy, I think it's healthy for these students to learn to deal with it. Rejection is a part of life, whether it's not getting accepted to the school of one's choice, or getting turned down for the perfect job.

And if any of these students plan to be writers someday, well, they'd better get used to it.

Anyone have any rejections they'd like to share? What was your most memorable rejection--either good or bad?

A Little BSP

2009-03-30T11:02:00.003-04:00

If you like short crime fiction, go check out my short story, Agatha, in the Spring edition of Mysterical-e magazine.

Coincidentally, my good friend, Annette Dashofy has a story in the same edition. Be sure to read hers too!

A Glimpse Back

2009-03-26T00:01:00.001-04:00

A month or so ago, one of my sisters found a box containing some of our mother's stuff that she didn't even know she had. Inside the box were pages and pages written in Mom's hand. Mom always liked to write, and I think if four children and being widowed at age 39 hadn't interfered, she would have been one hell of a writer.

She wrote on any kind of paper she could find. On some small scraps of three by five inch paper, I found the beginning of a novel. It was clearly autobiographical and even with some of the names changed I recognized some of the people she was writing about. Instead of Dolores McCloskey, she was Dawn McCrea. Her best friend, Catherine (Cass), was now Colleen. Her baby sister Joanne, she called Jane. She lived in a section of the city called Eden, instead of the real life Esplen.

Here's how it began:

"Perhaps you have never read a story without a plot, but I am about to attempt writing one. You see, my story has no end. I can't say "And they lived happily ever after," for my tale concerns not a few people, but my closest friends, our clique, modern youth as I've seen it. My real motive in writing this is to reveal the staunch and sturdy friendship we've built among us. Regardless of mistakes, folly, we stand together. Our future is before us. Doctor, Lawyer, Merchant, Chief--yet meanwhile we are living. "

Mom goes on to write about some teenage adventures, including one of her friends losing her virginity, which was quite scandalous. Her descriptions of two boys she had crushes on were cute. (One she called a "bronzed Greek god" and the other a "blond Adonis.") I was disappointed when I ran out of pages just after she shared a kiss with the blond Adonis in his dad's fancy Buick. I'd love to know if she ever finished the story.

I laughed at a shopping list on the back of one of the pages:

6 doz buns .90
1 can spiced ham 1.50
2 katsup .30
2 doz cakes .45
candy-peanuts .50
1# coffee .30
1 cream .15
relish .35

Another interesting find was a journal entry written on Sunday, December 7th, 1941. Mom would have been 21 years old at the time. This is what she said:

"Well, this day began as usual. Being Sunday, I arose late and just about made it to 12 o'clock Mass at the Point Church in downtown Pittsburgh. After Mass, I followed the Sunday routine by waiting on the corner of Ferry and 3rd Avenue for Cass and Peggy, the three of us then making a dash across the busy streets, startling Sunday drivers by our bold jaywalking, walking briskly up Liberty and into the Jenkins Arcade to avoid the brisk December weather. And as always we looked into the windows of a shop displaying novelty jewelry before leaving the Arcade for another mad dash thru the Penn Ave. traffic and into the lunch room at Walgreen's drug store. We even had our regular order of ham salad on toast and coffee, lingering long enough to smoke at least three cigarettes, tongues wagging while going over the current capers of our clique. Yes, it was the usual Sunday for us. We had nothing more important to talk of than the surprise party we were planning for Jimmy McCloskey's birthday on the 12th. Nothing more important in our frivolous heads than thoughts of Tom, Jack and Larry, members of our clique for whom we three were bearing torches.

We left Walgreen's and walked down Penn, stopping to look at the clever window display in Horne's dept. store. Christmas was in the air. Everyone pushing, crowding, but everyone gay as they watched the huge Santa Claus in the window. As each person turned away from the window, he turned away with a broad smile and laughter in his eyes for the laughter of the Santa Claus brought mirth to all.

We three crossed the street to our car stop, boarded our car and arrived home about 2 o'clock as we did every Sunday. Daddy left for work just after I arrived home, mother was out for the afternoon, and just Joanne and I were at home. We just sat around reading the funnies and after awhile I curled up on the studio couch for forty winks. Joanne woke me in time to start preparations for supper. Mother, Aunt Clara, Anna Mae, Jack and the baby came in around five. We were just about to sit down to the table when Joanne turned the radio on for some dinner music. The program was soon interrupted with special bulletins. This was no longer our usual do-nothing Sunday. This was history in the making. This was an outrage to our government. While the Japanese Consul General was having negotiations with our government for peace, Japan was bombing our territories.

What little supper that was consumed was done so automatically. The coffee pot was twice emptied and the ash trays held too many cigarettes. The thought of war made your blood run cold. I resolved then and there if my business is affected in any way I'll close, store my equipment and do whatever I can to help with defense work. Every able bodied American will be on their toes now.

Peggy and I went to church in the evening for our novena. After church we went to the show where we met Bobby, Cass, Ernie and Jimmy. We stopped and had hamburgers and coffee in a little shop in the Rocks and then came home where we all sat around."

Fascinating stuff. I only wish there was more.

Idiots Abound

2009-03-05T08:09:00.004-05:00

Boy, is this guy an ass.

The economy keeps sliding downhill, people are losing jobs left and right, and all he's worried about is Barbie! Is there a Karate Barbie out there? I know where she might do some good...

Or maybe we'll just send her.

How did I miss this?

2009-03-03T18:10:00.002-05:00

I don't know how I missed this one.

Warning: This is not for the weak of stomach.

A Very Nice Person

2009-02-25T13:21:00.003-05:00

Any writer who is tired of the rejections should read this post. I've said it before and I'll risk life and limb saying it again--Janet Reid is a nice person.

Exactly Right

2009-02-23T11:32:00.003-05:00

Bestselling author MJ Rose gets it exactly right in her blog post titled "Exactly Wrong." I'm glad I'm not the only one who is tired of the naysayers!

What Do You Make of This?

2009-02-19T07:36:00.005-05:00

I've heard of the Skull and Bones Society at Yale, mostly because I watched both National Treasure movies. I'm one of the few people who never knew it was a real group until I read this story. (I have to ask though, how can it be a secret society if many people know about it and members' names are listed all over the internet?)

The descendants of Geronimo are suing the Skull and Bones Society (along with Yale University, and certain people in the federal government) because they believe members of the society robbed the grave of Geronimo and are keeping some of his bones in their New Haven clubhouse. Legend has it that back in 1918, members who were stationed at Fort Sill dug him up. A spokesperson at Fort Sill says there is no evidence to back this up, but a letter discovered by a Yale historian seems to back up the claim.

What do you think? Is Geronimo resting in peace, or hidden away in a not-so-secret location in New Haven?

Yes Virginia, Ice Melts

2009-02-07T19:57:00.007-05:00

I apologize in advance, but I couldn't help laughing when I read this article. If the Darwin Awards haven't been given out yet, this group gets my nomination. I don't care how thick the ice is, when the temperature is above freezing, IT MELTS.

The best quote in the article was from Sheriff Bob Bratton: "We get people out here who don't know how to read the ice. What happened here today was just idiotic. I don't know how else to put it."

By the way, I'd be careful about any good deals on snowmobiles or ATVs near Lake Erie in the spring. I hear they're a little bit waterlogged.

The King's English or The Kings English

2009-02-01T10:13:00.002-05:00

Officials in Birmingham, England have taken a stand against apostrophes. Fortunately, it's not a stand against all apostrophes, only those on street signs. They feel apostrophes are "old fashioned" and "confusing." So now St. Paul's Square is now St. Pauls Square. (Note: the spell check on Blogger shows that St. Paul's written without the apostrophe is wrong. Take that Birmingham officials!)

Although a group of residents has been complaining about the change, it was made official last week. No more punctuation on street signs.

I guess the city council thinks their constituents are too dumb to understand basic grammar and punctuation.

It seems to me that the council members are the dumb ones.

Just The People to Help With The Bailout

2009-01-30T12:52:00.003-05:00

Hey Congress and Mr. President,

I know just the people who can help you with that bailout:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090130/ap_on_bi_ge/earns_exxon_mobil

No need to thank me.

This Freaks Me Out

2009-01-08T07:33:00.007-05:00

Read this article and tell me if it freaks you out as much as it does me:
http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/09008/940371-114.stm

Apparently, one of the side effects of a glaucoma drug is that it gives users longer and thicker eyelashes. The manufacturer decided to seek FDA approval for dispensing the drug for that purpose.

The drops can also PERMANENTLY darken your eye color. Suzan Obagi, a dermatologist interviewed in the article states, "I'm going to dispense it judiciously. If the darkening of the eye color can be permanent, that raises red flags. I need to see what the studies found about the effect on the pigment-making cells in the skin, because those can produce not just color but melanoma."

Possible melanoma. In your eye.

Is this going to be one of the many drugs approved, that several years down the road the FDA will say, "Oops, never mind--it's dangerous after all"?

I don't know about you, but I'm not messing with my eyes. I'll stick to mascara.

The Shoe Scam

2008-12-22T06:00:00.000-05:00

There's one Christmas song that drives me absolutely nuts. Well, there's really more than one, but one in particular not only makes me get up and turn off the radio, it makes me want to scream. I swear if I hear it one more time I'm going to have to hurt someone.

While Dominic the Donkey, and I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas are annoying, and any song with children singing drives me up a wall, the one that really bugs me is The Christmas Shoes.

If you're not familiar with the song (I don't know how you could not be, they play it at least every hour on most stations), it starts out with some guy standing in line waiting to pay for his Christmas purchases. There's a kid in front of him counting out his change to buy--get this--women's shoes.

First off, how many men do you know who would have the patience to stand in line on Christmas Eve while some kid counts out pennies at the checkout? Exactly. Zero. Second, how many times have you seen a boy in line buying women's shoes? Exactly. Zero. Heck, you don't even see too many grown men buying women's shoes. And the ones who do are probably buying them in really large sizes, if you get my drift.

The kid explains that his mother is on her deathbed so he's buying her shoes so she looks nice when she meets Jesus. And the guy in the song falls for it. He pays for the shoes.

Maybe I worked for a police department for too long, or maybe I've read Oliver Twist, or seen the movie too many times, but I think the kid is a scam artist. I picture the urchin looking like this:
Even if the mother was real, would the kid buy her shoes? How many children know what size shoe their mother wears? How many children even know shoes come in different sizes? When was the last time you saw an eight year old boy want to buy anything at all for his mother when he could buy the latest Star Wars toy?

See, I think if the mother exists, she's a crackhead and sent the kid to score something nice that she can sell to get some cash. Who could resist a cute kid with a story about his mother dying?

And if the mother doesn't exist, he hangs out with people like this:

It's a scam, I tell you.

Got Beer?

2008-12-02T07:41:00.009-05:00

So, this is what our sunroom looked like this past weekend. You know how some people do Cookie Exchanges? Well, we do a Beer Exchange.

Forget Black Friday. On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, we head over to Save On Beer where we select 24 cases of imported beer. I'm sure Discover Card loves us. Can you imagine someone at the credit card company reviewing purchases? "Hey Ralph, you wouldn't believe what these people just bought!"

After loading up the RAV 4, we drive home very carefully. I always think about what a mess it would be if someone rear-ended us on the way home. Not to mention explaining the beer smell to the police.

The next day, we take all the beer out of the cases, then each case gets one bottle of each flavor of beer. After that, we send out an email announcing the Annual Beer Exchange. Anyone who wants to participate buys a case and (usually) picks it up at our house. And if there are any cases left over, well, we're not going to complain.

Here are some more glorious photos. Notice our cat, Layla, "guarding" the beer.

Goodbye Pitt Girl!

2008-11-19T08:59:00.004-05:00

I guess it was bound to happen, but The Burgh Blog is no more.

Written by an anonymous blogger known only as Pitt Girl, it was one of the funniest, entertaining blogs around. She said goodbye yesterday, as apparently, some douchebags were on the verge of finding out her true identity. In the spirit of true superheroes everywhere, she made the ultimate sacrifice in order to keep her identity a secret.

Pitt Girl is a funny, talented writer and she will be sorely missed.

PG, if you happen to read this, and you ever want to do a guest blog, you're more than welcome here!

I'm Here!

2008-11-13T15:03:00.003-05:00

It's been awhile since I posted, but I haven't been slacking off--honest! I've been working hard on my WIP. My goal is to have a first draft completed by the end of the year. Now that I have the plot (mostly) worked out, the goal is attainable provided I don't let anything else get in the way.

I really like this story and I'm having lots of fun with it, so I'm getting back to it now...

Bouchercon Burn Out--Finale

2008-10-15T07:48:00.007-04:00

It's hard to believe that an entire week has passed since Annette and I left for Baltimore. It seems like everyone who attended Bouchercon has been blogging about it, most saying it was one of the best Bouchercons ever. I still can't get over how nice and friendly everyone was. I don't think you'd find that kind of camaraderie in any other profession. I'm glad to be a writer.

Annette and I were supposed to go on a ghost tour in Fell's Point on Friday evening, but we missed it. There was no transportation provided, so we drove (after we retrieved my vehicle from the dungeon of a parking garage). We made it to Fell's Point and would have been on time, except for the fact that there was NOWHERE to park. And I mean NOWHERE. We drove around--and around--and around, until we figured we had missed the tour. So, we headed back to the Radisson and the bar. The bar in the Radisson was much quieter than that in the Sheraton, but we did run into our good friend, Nancy Martin, author of the Blackbird Sisters mysteries and a gazillion other books. Not too long after that, Felicia Donovan joined us. Here's a photo of Felicia and me.
We were up bright and early again on Saturday. Not only did we not go to the gym, we didn't even attempt the yoga. We went to the first panel of the day on the business of publishing moderated by Madeira James, who designs incredible websites for writers. Panelists included publicist Maggie Griffin (also an owner of Partners & Crime bookstore), Ben LeRoy of Bleak House Books, agent Scott Miller, agent David Hale Smith, and Sarah Weinman, whose blog Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind, is a must-read for writers.

The next panel featured our very good buddy, Rebecca Drake. Others on the panel included Bryan Gilmer (moderator), Jack Getze, Marion Moore Hill, Bob Morris, and LJ Sellers.
It was very entertaining, especially when Bob Morris talked about the "old days" in the news room.

After that, we went to the Murder What Fun panel which was hysterical. But anything with Chris Grabenstein always turns out to be funny.

The rest of the day, I just kind of hung out, talking to other writers. Lee Lofland introduced me to agents Janet Reid and Lucienne Diver. Both were very nice (sorry to ruin your reputation, Janet). I might have to hire Lee as my publicist--he tried to pitch the book I'm still writing.

Later, it was the restaurant and bar where we ate dinner with the motley crew of Kelli Stanley and partner, Bill Cameron, Shane Gericke, Lee and his wife Denene. Many others stopped by to say hello over the course of the evening.

On Sunday morning, after a false fire alarm at the Sheraton, we decided to go to our last panel, only because it featured the hilariously funny Stuart MacBride. We weren't disappointed.

After many goodbyes and promises to keep in touch, we retrieved my vehicle from the dungeon and headed back home.

I, like many others, am looking forward to Bouchercon 2009. Indy, here I come!

Bouchercon Burn Out--Part 2

2008-10-14T07:41:00.006-04:00

After lunch on Thursday, Annette and I headed for the panel on keeping readers interested in your book. David Montgomery was the moderator, and on the panel were Barry Eisler, Andrew Gross, Mike Lawson, Gayle Lynds, and MJ Rose.

Next was the law enforcement in novels panel featuring Caroline Todd, Wilfred Bereswill, Stephen Booth, Stuart MacBride, Yrsa Sigurdardottir, and Andy Straka. If you check out these fine authors' websites, you'll see that Stuart MacBride is every bit as funny on his website as he is in person.

When the panel was over we took a little break, then went to dinner. Passing the gift shop in the Sheraton we spotted some Pashmina shawls and I talked myself into buying one. I didn't take much convincing. I wore my gorgeous new acoutrement to the opening ceremonies and awards ceremony that evening held in the ballroom of the Sheraton. Here's a photo of Michelle Gagnon, Lee Lofland, and myself at the awards ceremony. Annette and I got up bright and early on Friday morning, but both of us were two tired to go to the gym. Instead, Annette taught me a little bit of yoga. Our first panel was the CSI panel moderated by John French, featuring Jonathan Hayes, Lee Lofland, Gwen Freeman, and Cody McFadyen.

The rest of the morning we spent chatting with friends, then Annette went to the Guppies luncheon. We met up after that and took a walk down to the Inner Harbor, which is really beautiful. (See earlier posts for photos.)

To be continued...

Bouchercon Burn Out

2008-10-13T07:59:00.014-04:00

Annette and I made it home just fine from Bouchercon, but I'm afraid my brain is fried. Last night, I was trying to tell my husband about everything that went on and I felt like I was leaving so much out. I had all this stuff in my head trying to get out at the same time. I probably sounded like a babbling idiot. I'm sure for the next few days I'll be using the phrase, "Oh! I forgot to tell you..."

Anyway, I'll try to summarize what we did. Maybe.

Wednesday is kind of a blur. We arrived at the Radisson Lord Baltimore and checked into our room on the 14th floor, which is really the 13th floor. Perfect for mystery writers. The Radisson is an older hotel, and I was surprised to see that you could open the windows. I squelched the "what if" that bubbled up in my brain at that point. I didn't have time to contemplate a new plot right then. After we got settled, we crossed over to the Sheraton and headed to the registration table. We received a fantastic bag full of free books and magazines, and got a nifty little pouch to wear around our necks. The pouch had our names and the state where we lived on the front, along with a pocket schedule of the activities. I don't remember what we did after that, other than eating a delicious crabcake sandwich in Shula's 2, the hotel restaurant.

Annette and I actually got up at six on Thursday morning and went to the gym. (Don't be so impressed--it's the ONLY day we went.) The first panels were at 8:30. Annette went to one about e-zines, and I went to the one Robin Burcell was moderating. Photo from left to right: Sean Chercover, Julia Spencer-Fleming, James O. Born, Robin Burcell, and Vince O'Neil.

Robin has a new book, Face of a Killer, coming out next month featuring an FBI forensic artist, which sounds fantastic.

I skipped the next panel to volunteer for an hour in the hospitality suite sponsored by Sisters in Crime. There was plenty of coffee for bleary-eyed conference goers, along with goodies like pastries, yogurt, fruit and granola bars.
The panel I attended at 11:30 was about getting cops right in fiction, moderated by author and cop Dave Case. I didn't learn anything new, but it was interesting to hear authors Michael Black, Martin Edwards, John McFetridge, Caroline Todd, and Raffi Yessayan.

After that, we were off to the Sisters in Crime luncheon in the ballroom of the Radisson. We enjoyed a delicious lunch and got to see outgoing president, Roberta Isleib, turn over the Great Seal to our new president, Judy Clemens. More to come...

More Bouchercon Photos

2008-10-10T22:20:00.016-04:00

Bouchercon Baltimore

2008-10-09T16:44:00.008-04:00

Annette and I are at Bouchercon in Baltimore. Here are a few photos from today's activities (so far).

Baltimore Bound!

2008-10-06T07:46:00.005-04:00

On Wednesday, Annette Dashofy and I are heading for Baltimore for my first major mystery shindig, Bouchercon. Three and a half days of mystery related panels, famous authors, not so famous authors, editors, agents, and fans should make for a fabulous (and exhausting!) time. We're even taking a ghost tour on Friday evening, which should be interesting, although I really don't expect to meet up with any ghosts. I've been on several Gettysburg ghost tours and have yet to see one, and Gettysburg is supposed to be one of the most haunted places around. (The Bouchercon hotel is only a few blocks from Poe's grave, so maybe he'll be compelled to make an appearance.)

The only other thing that I have scheduled is the Sisters in Crime luncheon, which includes the election of officers for 2009. Oh, and as a member of SinC, I'll be volunteering for an hour in the hospitality suite, encouraging people to join this important organization. The history geek in me is hoping to make a quick visit to Fort McHenry (of Star Spangled Banner fame), although with all the good panels to check out, I don't think I'll have that much time.

Only two days to go--I guess I'd better start packing!

Commercial Annoyances

2008-09-25T07:12:00.004-04:00

To me, there aren't too many things more annoying than commercials. I know commercials serve a purpose--they pay for the shows we watch, or songs we listen to, but it would be nice if those of us in the intended audience were treated more like valued customers and less like gullible schmucks.

There are a few commercials that I've heard on the radio lately that drive me absolutely nuts. Yes, I know. I don't have far to go. I'm not going to mention the products because I don't want to take a chance that someone will decide to fall for their line of BS. And I'd like to avoid a lawsuit.

One commercial played over and over on the radio is for an at-home business that sounds great at first. There's usually someone talking about how they wanted to spend more time with their children, or they wanted to save for retirement, and now they're earning beaucoup bucks with this "plan." Out of curiosity, I called the number to see what this "plan" really entailed and listened to a recording. It's basically a multi-level marketing business (which is usually just a nice name for a pyramid scheme--not always, though) selling some weird kind of juice. Now really. How much juice can you sell over the phone?

Another commercial that bugs me is the one that tells listeners they can have an internet business selling products that they never see, never have to store, and get this--never have to pay for! How does that work? For the life of me, I can't figure that one out.

There's another commercial, that when it comes on, I end up yelling at the radio. It usually begins with a woman talking about how her child was defiant and wouldn't listen to her. (Kind of reminds me of the people who call the police because their kid won't go to school.) But she bought this guy's CD and now her child is a wonder-kid/angel/straight A student/future President--whoops, got a little carried away there. You get the idea. The guy selling the CD then says he can make any child listen in six minutes or less.

Yeah? I can do that too, and it doesn't take me six minutes. More like six seconds. Most of the time all it took was one look.

How about you? Which commercials make you yell at the radio or TV? Or maybe you like commercials. I'd like to hear about that, too.

A Mighty Storm

2008-09-15T11:53:00.005-04:00

Hearing about Hurricane Ike, I can't help thinking about the old folk song Wasn't That A Mighty Storm (James Taylor does a great version of it). Here are the lyrics:

Chorus:
Wasn't that a mighty storm
Wasn't that a mighty storm in the morning
Say, wasn't that a mighty storm
Blew all the people away

Well, Galveston had a sea wall
Meant to keep the water down
High tide from the ocean
Sent water over Galveston

Chorus

Yeah, year was 1900
Fifty long years ago
Death came walking on the water that day
Death calls, you gotta go

Now the trumpets,they sounded warning
Said it's time to leave this place
But no one thought about leaving town
Til death stared them in the face

Chorus

Right then the sea started boiling
A thing that no ship could stand
I thought I heard a captain crying out
Somebody save a drowning man

They had two trains loaded
With people trying to leave town
Tracks gave way to the water now
And all of those people drowned

Chorus

I said the year was 1900
Fifty long years ago
Death came walking on the water
Death calls, you gotta go

I said Death, your hands are clammy
You got them on my knee
You came and threw a stone at my mother
And now you're coming after me.

Chorus

Chorus

The song is about the Great Galveston Hurricane of 1900. I did a little research and found that this hurricane (GGH--my acronym) was the deadliest hurricane in US history. While Katrina was the costliest, it was only number 3 in terms of lives lost.

In 1900, Galveston had a population of 35,000 and approximately 8000 (12,000 in some estimates) lives were lost to the GGH. Despite warnings issued by weather trackers in Cuba, government officials did not repeat the warnings to Galveston residents. They didn't want to panic anyone. As a result, evacuations were not begun until the hurricane hit. By then it was too late.

But I wonder how many would have chosen to evacuate if given the chance. By estimates I've heard on the news, as high as 40-50 percent of Galveston's current residents chose to ride out the storm despite facing what officials said would be "certain death." I would have been one of the first to leave. Let's see, solid ground or drowning? I'm outta there. (Now a tornado would be another story. I'm a bit fascinated by them.)

While we didn't get any rain here from Hurricane Ike (thank goodness, Ivan was enough!) we sure did get the wind. Our power went out briefly about three times, but the longest was for only a few minutes. Since I'm not a football fan, I was kind of hoping the power and/or the cable would go off for the entire length of the Steeler game. I thought it would be nice for everyone to know that there are other colors besides black and gold. The gorgeous pink clouds and yellow sky last evening were much more interesting than watching a bunch of overgrown juveniles play a game.

Enough about that. So how did everyone else "weather" the storm? Did you get rain? High winds? Power outage?

Oh, and one more thing. If anyone finds a grill cover, I think it might be ours.

Remembering 911 Again

2008-09-11T09:12:00.003-04:00

Below is the entry I made on the fifth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on 9/11/01. I think it bears a repeat.

Just like previous generations remember where they were when Pearl Harbor was attacked, or when President Kennedy was assassinated, this generation will remember where they were when terrorists flew planes into the World Trade Center five years ago.

I was only six when President Kennedy was killed. I remember the nuns at school crying and sending us home early. I remember the television being on constantly and playing "funeral" with my younger sister and my cousins, using our toy box as a coffin. Being so young, it didn't make a great impression on me.

September 11, 2001 was different. In many ways, this event was more horrific than both Pearl Harbor and the Kennedy assassination. We were attacked on our own soil. It wasn't a military attack. It was a cowardly attack on innocent civilians.

I was at work entering police reports into the computer. The phone rang and when I answered it, the wife of one of the police officers told me to turn on the television, that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. In the squad room, the TV was already on, and we watched the events unfold. At the time, most of us thought that it was an accident--that a plane had malfunctioned somehow and hit the tower. No one even considered that it might be deliberate, until we watched a second plane hit the other tower, then the Pentagon and Shanksville.

I don't remember what I thought at the time, other than that things would never be the same. Even in our suburban police department, we took extensive precautions. We locked down the building, installing a temporary phone outside for visitors to call to gain entry to the building. We remained in this lock-down mode for days. Keys to the police cars had always been left in the cars--after all, who would steal a car from a police parking lot? Not any more. We had to worry about terrorists taking the cars and using them as bombs. Even now, the keys are kept in a lock box inside the station.

There were numerous other precautions taken, investigations done, and assistance given by our department to federal agencies involved in preventing more attacks. Before 9/11, our police department had only been concerned about DUIs, drugs, domestics, and traffic violators.
That all changed in one day.

We'd lost our innocence.

After five years, though, complacency has returned. No one thinks about the attacks anymore. I know it's not good to dwell on the tragedy, but we shouldn't forget. For a time, people changed. They cared about each other. They went out of their way to help others. If anything good came out of 9/11, it was that. Maybe with this fifth anniversary, people will not only remember the tragedy, but remember how we all felt afterward. How we were better people for helping our fellow man.

Do you remember where you were and what you were doing on 9/11/2001? Please share. I'd like to hear your story.

A Tourist At Home

2008-08-28T06:00:00.002-04:00

We're on vacation this week. Unlike most people I know, we're spending ours at home--almost. Since we blew a bundle going to Busch Gardens in June, we decided to spend this one at home. So we're being tourists in our own town--Pittsburgh.

It's been fun so far. My husband and I have both lived in or around Pittsburgh our entire lives and there are tons of things we haven't done or seen. On Monday, we had lunch at Houlihan's in Station Square, then took a Just Ducky Tour.

It was a lot of fun. A DUKW is an amphibious vehicle first used in WWII (think D-Day Invasion). The D stands for 1942, the U for utility truck, the K for front wheel drive and the W for two tandem axle rear driving wheels. You wanted to know all that, right?

On Tuesday, we stayed home. I did some house cleaning (exciting, I know) and my better half worked in his wood shop. He's always happy when he's knee deep in sawdust. The rest of the day we hung out in our back yard.

On Wednesday, we made our way to the North Side of Pittsburgh to the National Aviary. They have an outdoor bird show that was a lot of fun.

Afterwards, we went to the historic Penn Brewery for lunch. The outside courtyard was worth a picture. We'll probably be checking out their upcoming Oktoberfest celebration at the end of September.

We're not sure yet what we're doing on Thursday, but on Friday we're thinking about looking for a flea market. Then again, we might just hang out at home!

How many of you have played tourists in your own town? What did you do? Would you do it again?

To Kilt or Not to Kilt

2008-08-08T13:00:00.005-04:00

Don't anyone faint. Two posts in two days might just be a record for me. I saw this article and I couldn't resist. When I first spotted the headline on my home page, I thought it was from The Onion. Then I looked again and it was in the regular news section.

Postal employee Dean Peterson (left), who is 6 feet tall and weighs 250 pounds wants to make a kilt an optional part of the official uniform. Although the idea was defeated at the postal union convention last month, Peterson is not giving up. He plans to bring it before the convention in 2010. He says kilts are comfortable and he wears them everywhere--to his sons' activities and even gardening. (I hope he's careful bending over.)

While I have no problem if someone wants to wear a kilt, I guess I don't quite get it. If I have a choice between wearing pants or a skirt, the pants win every time. I've never yet put on a dress that was as comfortable as an old pair of blue jeans. How about you? Male or female--would you prefer a kilt instead of pants?

And if you pick the kilt, we want photos!

I Love a Mystery

2008-08-07T07:00:00.001-04:00

Like many others, I'm fascinated by cases that appear to be unsolvable: The Black Dahlia, Chandra Levy, Jon Benet Ramsey, and of course The Boy in the Box.

One of the most fascinating cases, though, occurred seven years ago shortly after the terrorist attacks of 9/11, when five people died and seventeen were injured from being exposed to anthrax. People were panicked. Was this another terroristic attack? Although it appeared that those in the media and politicians were the targets, no one really believed they were safe. At the police department, we had calls daily from residents who received what they thought was suspicious mail. The department had to quickly develop a protocol for handling items that residents turned over to them. None of the mail turned out to be hazardous, but it was still a trying time for those involved.

Now that everyone has become complacent again and mostly forgotten about the Amerithrax case, there has been a break in the case. Just as the FBI was preparing to charge 62 year old Army scientist Bruce Ivins with murder, he committed suicide by taking an overdose of Tylenol with codeine.

Using new, state of the art scientific testing, authorities were able to determine that the anthrax strain used in the attacks was very rare and narrowed it down to a sample that Ivins controlled. If this testing had been available earlier, the case would have been solved years ago.

We now know who did it, but with Ivins' death, we may never know why--or how.

How was he able to take his anthrax sample and make a powdered form without any of his co-workers knowing about it? Why were the media and former senator Tom Daschle targeted? How and why did he go to New Jersey to mail the anthrax-laced letters? Was his motive to promote his recently patented anthrax vaccine? Or was he a just a "revenge killer" as his therapist Jean Duley stated?

Hopefully, with US District Judge Royce Lamberth unsealing certain documents we may get a few answers. These documents are now posted on the website of the Department of Justice if anyone wants to take a look.

Attics, Small Towns and Buried Treasure

2008-07-31T07:00:00.004-04:00

People keep asking me what I’ve been doing since I became unemployed. Well, lots of things.

I’ve been cleaning out my attic and cupboards for the garage sale we’re having on Saturday. We figured since our kids are now 24 and 20, it might be time to get rid of all the stuffed animals, Micromachines, Fisher Price toys, games and puzzles. The Legos, Star Wars and Ghostbusters toys are staying, though. I’m also getting rid of all the might-need-it-someday stuff that we’re not really going to need someday. If anyone thinks they might need my junk, let me know. But you have to come and get it.

I’m researching magazines for articles I have some ideas for, and I submitted a short story to an e-zine. I’ve also been doing a lot of writing. I have a new book kind of figured out, and a first chapter written. It’s a funny mystery (at least I think it’s funny), which is a new direction for me. It’s a lot of fun so far.

When I started researching small towns for the setting in the new book, I found this site. I could spend hours looking at this stuff—and I think I did. You can pick any state you want to research. If you click on what’s in parenthesis, it gives you a list of smaller towns. After that, there’s even a link for towns with less than 1000 people. I’ve browsed the listings for several states.

Did you know there’s a town in Mississippi named Chunky (population 344)? I can’t help but wonder how that town was named. There’s one in Georgia called Ty Ty (pop. 716). Why not just one Ty? There’s another town in Georgia called Experiment (pop. 3233). The experiment must have worked—the town is still there. We have our share of odd names in Pennsylvania, too: Grindstone, Mars, Nanty-Glo, Glen Campbell (not the singer, I’m sure!), even Intercourse.

I dare you to go to that site and not spend hours there.

There was also a news article that caught my eye a few days ago. There’s some guy named Franz Felhaber, who keeps taking old, decomposed cash to various banks and attempts to cash it in. In his latest venture, he arrived at the Treasury Department carrying a suitcase with over 5 million dollars. Authorities are suspicious. Felhaber can’t seem to keep his story straight, either. He’s said the money was an inheritance, was found in a tree, found when someone dug up a field, belongs to relatives from Mexico. The list goes on. No wonder the feds are suspicious.

As a writer, I can’t help but wonder where the money really did come from. Is it drug money? Buried treasure? Ransom? What do you think?

A New Chapter

2008-07-12T11:00:00.000-04:00

Although at the time I write this, I haven't heard anything officially, I am pretty sure I'm no longer the secretary for the Shaler Township Police Department. Apparently a couple officers took offense to some things I wrote in my blogs and took it up with the township manager. He seemed to think that I painted the township in a bad light, and I was suspended.

I'm still flabbergasted (cool word, don't you think?) that anyone could possibly take offense to anything I wrote. I was always extremely careful not to mention anything confidential. Any joking around or teasing was done in the same way you'd tease a sibling. I thought these guys were my friends. Apparently I was wrong.

I know some of these guys have read my blogs before--I sent them links--and they never once had anything bad to say about what I'd written. A couple of times I actually got a comment that they liked what I wrote! But now? Not a peep out of them. Not a phone call. Not an email.

To me, this is a First Amendment issue. I've never written anything detrimental to the township. On the contrary, anything I've written about the police has brought them good publicity (like the Tickets & Stuff article). Many people outside of law enforcement think cops are power hungry jerks. I've tried my best to paint them as caring human beings, who have the same foibles as the rest of us. My blogs are written to give readers and writers a glimpse into the world of law enforcement. I don't think I've done too badly with that.

So, I'm onto a new chapter. I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet. I'd like to do some freelance work, or possibly apply for some jobs doing something a little less stressful than working in a police department. For now, I'll get caught up on things around the house and do a lot of writing. And I'll definitely keep blogging.

The First Amendment to the Bill of Rights:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

Vacation

2008-06-26T07:40:00.015-04:00

We just spent a wonderful few days in Virginia. We picked up Andrew from his seasonal job as a Park Ranger at Prince William Forest Park (check out the July 5 Ranger program) and headed down to Williamsburg.

Busch Gardens is the greatest amusement park in the world. I have to say, though, that my legs don't take the twelve hour days walking around the park like they used to. Thank heavens for the Festhaus and Grogan's Pub. If anyone asks, all that beer was for medicinal purposes only. And I highly recommend Griffon, the new roller coaster. Awesome. Best ride ever.

After two days at the park, we checked out the Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville battlefields. We even stopped at the Stonewall Jackson Shrine. Yes, believe it or not, he has a shrine. I don't quite get that logic. Most people have memorials, not shrines. But then again, it's the south.

Anyway, we had a great time. See below for some photos of the trip.

A Bee Story

2008-05-29T17:39:00.009-04:00

We have a shed behind our house that's so large we call it "The Barn." It has a porch and everything. The other night we were sitting there and heard the loudest buzzing we'd ever heard before. We looked around and there was this HUGE bee buzzing around the edge of the porch roof. After awhile he settled down and we kind of ignored him.

Then we heard chewing. Yes, CHEWING. The bee was eating the cedar! I've heard of carpenter bees before, but this one must have been the mother of all carpenters. I swear it was wearing a tool belt. Jerry being a man and all, instead of the wasp and hornet spray, he got a long piece of 1 x 2 and chased the bee away. There wasn't much damage.

Then last evening, I happened to look up at the same spot and the little sucker must have come back because now there are quarter to half inch holes eaten all the way through the cedar plank.

I had a lot of errands to run today, but when I came home after lunch I took a look to see if the bugger had come back. Sure enough, it was up there munching away. Being a Woman To Be Reckoned With, I went straight for the wasp and hornet spray.

Zap.

It landed on the concrete with a satisfying thunk. Ha. Taught that bee a lesson.

Josh thinks we should hang it up and display it like they did with Blackbeard. Think it might discourage any others from dining on our barn?

Indy vs Titanic

2008-05-23T14:22:00.013-04:00

As much as I want to see this (probably when it comes out on DVD):

Indy has a bit of competition this weekend.

In today's Pittsburgh Tribune Review there's an article about a new exhibit at the Carnegie Science Center that opens this weekend. TITANIC: THE ARTIFACT begins a three month run on Saturday. Other than seeing many artifacts from the doomed vessel, visitors to the exhibit get a chance to tour several full-size replicas of rooms on the Titanic. Upon arrival to the exhibit, visitors are given a "boarding pass" with the name of a person who had been an actual passenger on the ship. At the end of the self-guided tour, visitors will learn the fate of their passenger.

History geek that I am, this is almost cooler than Indy.

Almost.

Things Have Gone Too Far

2008-05-22T22:14:00.004-04:00

What is this world coming to?

From today's Pittsburgh Post-Gazette:

Sweet-tooth robbers hit Downtown chocolate shop

Thursday, May 22, 2008

By Dan Majors, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

Two men who claimed to have guns robbed the Betsy Ann Chocolates shop at 500 William Penn Place, Downtown, just before 4 p.m. today.

The robbers got $125 from the cash register and a $40 gold-colored box of chocolate truffles that caught their attention as they fled, police said.

Detective Jay Johnson said there were no customers and only one employee in the store at the time. The men indicated they had guns but did not show them.

They demanded that the clerk give them the contents of the register and his wallet, the detective said.

They gave the clerk back his wallet when they saw it had no cash in it, Detective Johnson said. The men ran off in opposite directions.

Now, the money is one thing, but things have gone too far when thieves get away with a box of chocolate truffles.

Tickets and Stuff

2008-05-01T16:24:00.001-04:00

Today's post is a reprint of an article that was published in the Pennsylvania Chiefs of Police magazine a few years ago. Officer Funtal's Traffic Camp is coming up in a couple of weeks and I thought this might be a good time to tell everyone about the program.

by Joyce Tremel

Imagine for a minute that you are seventeen years old. It is 6:45 a.m. and you are driving to the Shaler Area High School. Your favorite CD is playing and you’re tapping your fingers on the steering wheel in time to the music when all of a sudden you hear a siren behind you. You look in your rear view mirror and see a police officer on his motorcycle, his lights flashing, motioning you to pull over. Panic sets in, your gut tightening up like someone squeezing it with a rubber band. Your thoughts flash as quickly as the lights on the motorcycle, wondering what you did wrong. You thought you were obeying all the traffic laws. Why is he pulling you over?

You pull your car over to the side of the road, watching while the officer gets off his bike and heads toward your car. Your mouth goes dry when you see the size of the officer. He’s over six feet tall and muscular, and he looks mean! You swallow hard and try to remember how to breathe. When you look up, he’s at your window with a big, friendly smile on his face. You squeak out a hello.

"Hey, man, I just wanted to congratulate you on following all the traffic safety laws!” he says in his booming voice. He briefly explains that he’s started a program that rewards drivers for following the traffic laws. Relieved, you are soon back on your way to school.

The above scenario is fiction. Although many police officers might like to hand out good news on occasion instead of citations, in Pennsylvania a driver needs to violate one of the motor vehicle laws for a traffic stop. It is doubtful that the above driver would complain, but Officer Carl Funtal of the Township of Shaler Police Department doesn’t take any chances. Instead he notes the registration number on the plate to find the identity of the good driver.

In Shaler Township, a community of thirty-one thousand residents located north of the City of Pittsburgh, rewarding good drivers is part of the Township of Shaler Police Department’s Tickets & Stuff program. Several years ago, due to an increase in the number of teen driving fatalities in the northern suburbs, Chief Jeffrey Gally asked Officer Carl Funtal of the Traffic Division if he could come up with a program to educate young drivers.

Initiated during the 2000-2001 school year, Tickets & Stuff appears to be working. The program is unique in that not only are violators given citations, but good drivers are rewarded. Funtal likes the idea of the positive reinforcement this gives the kids. “Too often the focus is on the bad kids,” he said. “We wanted to do something for the kids who do the right things.” The good drivers are identified at school, where they are notified and given a chance to be in a drawing held at the end of the school year. Prizes such as restaurant gift certificates, CDs, and car stereos are given away. Funtal receives donations from many of the area businesses and civic organizations.

There is some good news for the violators, too. Any teenage driver given a traffic citation can plead their case before District Justice Robert Dzvonick, who may dismiss the citation, provided the violator attend Funtal’s traffic camp, which is the main part of the program. The traffic camp is held on a Saturday in May, but it has become increasingly popular and might be held twice a year in the future. Word of mouth has spread so much that parents are calling to sign up their teens even if they haven’t been cited.

The Tickets & Stuff traffic camp is an all-day interactive event held at the Shaler Area High School. The kids are given breakfast and a fast-food lunch. The first part of the camp features guest speakers. In the past, Magistrate Bob Dzvonick discussed criminal aspects of the law, and an insurance agent from State Farm Insurance informed the students about what tickets and accidents can do to one’s insurance rates. An attorney discussed the civil aspects and liabilities and what could happen if they or their parents are sued, which most of the teens had never even considered. One of the speakers who had a strong impact on the students was a young accident victim who will spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. His talk seemed to reinforce the idea that they (the teens) are not invincible, and that it could happen to them, too. Another speaker who brought tears to the eyes of many students was the father of a teenage girl who was killed in a motor vehicle accident. Some of these speakers return every year.

In the next part of the camp, the students participate in interactive skits, then are shown a slide show featuring music with slides of serious accidents. Funtal hopes that there is a subliminal message in the slide show; that whenever a student hears the song on the radio or on a CD, they’ll picture the image on the slide.

After lunch, everyone moves to the parking lot where Funtal, who is an accident reconstructionist, demonstrates the Physics aspects of accidents. The students learn to convert speeds to velocity, or miles-per-hour to feet-per-second. They also learn about perception and reaction, and the fact that it takes awhile for their brains to give them the message to stop. This is often the students’ favorite part of the camp, especially when Funtal skids the police car and they get the chance to measure skid marks.

After all the fun is a test, then each student receives a certificate of completion. The kids also get to fill out an evaluation form and they don’t have to sign their names. So far, all of the evaluations have been positive and most of the students say the class made them aware of things they had never thought about before. They all state that they’ll drive more carefully, which seems to be holding true. Very few students are repeat offenders after participating in the traffic camp.

Word of the Tickets & Stuff program is spreading beyond the Pittsburgh area. Funtal was invited by the Highway Safety Administration to speak about the program. He also did a presentation for PAUD--Pennsylvanians Against Underage Drinking.

Anyone who is interested in learning more about the program can contact Officer Carl Funtal at the Township of Shaler Police Department.

What Does a Police Secretary Do?

2008-04-17T08:00:00.004-04:00

For some reason, when I hear the question, “What does a police secretary do?” it makes me think of the song, “What Do the Simple Folk Do?” from the musical Camelot. Not Spamalot, people. Camelot. You know, Lerner and Loewe? Richard Burton and Julie Andrews? Oh, never mind.

Anyway, in the song, Arthur and Guinevere are pondering what their subjects might be doing. They get it all wrong.

The same holds true with the public and most police work. How many of you knew there was such a thing as a police secretary? Come on. Hold up your hands. Uh-huh. Thought so. We are so under appreciated. You never see us on Law and Order or CSI. One more thing they get wrong!

So, what does a police secretary do? The simple answer is pretty much anything. I work for the Shaler Township Police Department in Pennsylvania. Shaler Township is a suburb of Pittsburgh. Our population is around 30,000 people. We have 27 sworn officers-this includes the Chief, two Lieutenants, one Sergeant, two Detectives, one Officer who handles juvenile cases, and the rest are Patrolmen. The two civilians are an administrative assistant, who acts as the Chief’s secretary and does, well, administrative things, and myself.

I have my own office which consists of my computer station, a desk and file cabinets. I have a bullet proof glass window that looks out onto the reception area. If someone needs a copy of their accident report, etc, I pass it through the slot at the bottom. After they pay the $15.00 fee for a copy of the report, that is.

One of my main duties is answering the phone. All the municipalities in Allegheny County have a single 911 dispatch center, so I don’t dispatch any calls. The calls that come into the office are usually people calling to talk to a police officer, calling for a copy of an accident report, or people filing a complaint by phone. I also get a lot of calls from people who need to see an officer but didn’t want to call 911. I have to tell them if it’s important enough to dispatch an officer, they should hang up and dial 911. If there happens to be an officer in the station, I’ll give him the call, but they’re supposed to stay out on the road unless they’re writing up their reports. Many times, I’m the only one in the station. We do get walk ins (or 10-12s as we call them) and then I’ll get on the squad room radio and ask someone to “10-19 for a 10-12,” which translates to “get your rear in here and talk to this person.” Not literally, but you get the idea.

My most important duty is entering the police reports into the computer. We use a software program called “The Informer.” The officers write a report up for every call they get and turn over all the handwritten reports to me the next day. I then make sure that none are missing and spend most of the day typing. We average about 10,000 calls a year, and a report must be filed for all of them. I type most of them with help from the administrative assistant. We always split up the weekend reports on Monday-too many for one person to do.

Someone asked me once why the officers don’t enter their own reports. The most important reason is they have to be entered correctly. For reporting purposes, there are certain things that have to be on the reports and most of the guys would take short cuts. Sometimes what they have written as the type of call is nothing like what it really is. For example, the officer might put “harassment” down where it says type of call, but it’s really a dispute between neighbors. Another reason the officers don’t enter their own reports is time. They would need to be sitting at a computer for hours instead of out patrolling. Even if they could do it from the patrol car, people complain that the officers are loafing if the car is parked somewhere.

Another duty is to enter all the traffic and non-traffic citations. Really, really boring. I also process requests from insurance companies for accident and police reports. They mail in a check and I record it and send them the report. Sometimes I get requests from attorneys for the same thing. I really like it when an attorney asks for a report because his client is suing the other party and it turns out his client is the one at fault. Or someone is suing for injuries and the report clearly states there weren’t any. Now that really amuses me.

I’ve also done things that aren’t in the job description. I’ve fingerprinted people who needed them done for their jobs when the detective who usually does them was out. I’ve done pat-down searches on females who have been arrested. I’ve watched lost children and lost dogs. I watched an arrestee when everyone had to leave on an emergency. I stayed over and helped out when we had a major flood after Hurricane Ivan. I did the same after 9-11 when we were in “lockdown.”

So, that about sums up the glamorous life of a police secretary. At least in Shaler Township. Oh, and did I mention that I only work part-time? I do all this working twenty eight hours a week.

This and That

2008-03-06T07:25:00.000-05:00

One would think that by working in a police department I'd have all kinds of things to write about. I mean, there was a robbery at Walgreen's last week and a bank robbery in the neighboring township. The problem is they're not really as exciting as they sound. The police report for the Walgreen's robbery was only two paragraphs long. The store manager ended up with a bump on his head, but if you watched the 11 o'clock news that night you would have heard he was "brutally beaten." That sounds much more exciting than just getting whacked on the back of the head.

There's been one annoyance after another this week. The people causing me the most
grief this week are senior citizens. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't hate ALL old people--just the ones who have this attitude that you should drop everything and do their bidding. I've run into an overabundance of that type lately. For the record, I know I'm going to be old someday (no wisecracks from you youngsters!), but would someone just shoot me if I turn into anything like these people?

There are volunteers doing taxes for senior citizens in the training room upstairs in the township building. They're not affiliated with the township or the police department in any way. I have no idea who these saints are and I don't want to know. The problem is I get at least three or four calls a day from old people asking what time the tax preparers will be there, what days, etc. And they won't take "I don't know" for an answer. Here's a conversation I had last week:

Me: Shaler Police, can I help you?
Old lady: Are they doing taxes today?
Me: I don't know. They aren't affiliated with the police department.
O.L.: Well, I need to get my taxes done. When will they be in?
Me: Ma'am, this is the police department. We don't do taxes here.
O.L.: I know that. But I need to know if there's anyone upstairs doing taxes today.
Me: I have no way of knowing that.
O.L.: Well, I'll hold on and you can run upstairs and see if anyone is up there.
Me: I am not doing that.
O.L.: Maybe one of the policemen can do it then.
Me: They're all out on emergency calls right now.
O.L.: Okay. I'll call back later.

It's been like this every day. Yesterday I gave a call to one of the officers because the old biddy wouldn't take no for an answer. She wanted someone to go upstairs and tell her husband to call her. She wanted him to pick up something at the store on the way home.

In addition to all that, you take your life in your hands walking through the parking lot. Yesterday there was a car parked in a handicapped spot that should have been parallel parked. Instead the driver was parked head first with the entire back half of their car out in the traffic way. Today when I went out to go home for lunch, there was a car parked so close to mine that I couldn't open the door wide enough to get in--I had to use the passenger door.

As far as I'm concerned April 15th can't get here fast enough!

Police Records

2008-02-07T07:29:00.001-05:00

A lot of people are surprised when they walk into the police department to get a copy of a police report and I tell them they can’t have it.

“What?” they sputter. “I was the one arrested! Why can’t I have my report?”

I calmly and politely explain that police reports are not, contrary to popular opinion, public records, especially when there is an arrest involved. Even the arrestee’s attorney is not privileged to see the report before the preliminary hearing. Sometimes the arresting officer will let the defense attorney view the report at the prelim, but he doesn’t have to do so. If the charges are waived to court, the officer will prepare a pre-trial packet containing all pertinent documents which is then sent to the district attorney’s office. The defense will get a copy of the report and other documents from the DA’s office during this phase (known as discovery).

There are other types of reports I can’t release. Our department has a policy that we won’t release any reports involving domestics or child custody issues. One reason for this is sometimes one party will change the report or cut out things to suit themselves. (The police chief in a neighboring jurisdiction who was going through a nasty divorce, was fired last year for changing one of his own reports.) Or they want to dispute what is in the report (“I never said that!” or “That’s not what happened!”) We require a court order or a subpoena and release the report directly to the attorney.

Come to think about it, there’s not much you CAN have. Let’s say the police showed up at your neighbor’s house at three in the morning and the next day you show up and ask for the report. Nope, sorry. For privacy reasons, we can’t even tell you WHY the police were there. And because of the ridiculous HIPAA regulations, when the police go on an EMS call, they can’t even write what was wrong with the patient on the police report. All they’re permitted to write is that the person was transported to the hospital.

Every once in awhile we’ll have a parent come in after their child has been involved in an incident and ask for a copy of a report. The answer is always no. Juvenile records are sealed—period. Even if there’s no arrest, if the report has a juvenile’s information we aren’t permitted to give it to anyone—not even a parent.

Occasionally we’ll release a redacted report when an insurance company or similar entity needs a copy of a report that we normally wouldn’t give out. When we redact a report we take a black permanent marker and black out any identifying information that the insurance company doesn’t need. It doesn’t look very pretty, but it serves its purpose.

The Queen

2008-01-30T15:59:00.001-05:00

Don't you think this woman should have dark hair?

Dinner at My House

2008-01-14T15:53:00.000-05:00

As busy as we are, our family tries to have dinner together. Great! you might think.

Not always.

You see, my immediate family is full of jokesters. Lately, the dinner hour has turned into a battle to see who can spew pizza out their nose. I'm the only female (except for the cat) in a household overrun with testosterone and bathroom humor.

Hubby Jerry has always been part comedian. I think if he ever gave up his accounting job he could make a good living at the Funny Bone. It doesn't help that he knows Bob Newhart used to be an accountant. Andy is more serious, but Josh is definitely following in his father's footsteps.

Hence the interesting dinners at my house lately.

Andy came home for the weekend on Thursday. I was off work, so I thought I'd make homemade pizza. All went well until we actually sat down to eat. Andy made the mistake of letting his fork hit his teeth and a new comedy skit was born. Josh began a dialogue that included Andy trying to bite his fork in half. Josh had us laughing so hard, he was sure pizza would be coming out Andy's nose.

On Saturday night, Jerry's brother and his wife came over. We made Lynchburg Lemonade and Tennessee Tea. Since the powers that be in Allegheny County have saddled us with a ten percent tax on poured drinks, we're doing all our drinking at home. Except Josh. He's the only 20 year male I've ever met who doesn't like to drink alcohol. He says it's more fun to watch everyone else make asses out of themselves. Anyway, we played the game "Cranium" that Santa brought us for Christmas. By the end of the night, my stomach hurt from laughing so hard, and Andy ended up coughing because he aspirated the water (we shut him off) he was drinking. But all is well. My team won the game and Andy's lungs are back to normal.

If you're ever passing our house and hear hysterical laughter, stop in. If you're lucky, we'll be playing a game. Then again, it just might be dinner time.

A Moo of a Story

2008-01-09T14:43:00.000-05:00

I know I'm warped, but this story in the Post-Gazette yesterday cracked me up http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/08008/847591-100.stm.

Jason Michael Fife was charged by police in Lower Pottsgrove, Montgomery County, with stalking, terroristic threats, disorderly conduct and harassment after he sent a cow's head to his wife's lover in June 2006. The head was frozen when he mailed it, but it thawed while sitting on the victim's doorstep. Fife was sentenced to probation and community service. Believe it or not, he and his wife have since reconciled.

Fife's attorney, Henry Hilles said, "...in a civilized society a person cannot send a severed cow's head to anybody."

I want to know why not? The guy bought it from a butcher. Maybe cow's head is some kind of delicacy somewhere. No one objects when someone sends chocolate covered ants through the mail. It's not like someone put a horse head in your bed. (Although one of these might be okay.)

You can send filet mignon through the mail, so why not cow's head?

Ringing in the New

2007-12-31T15:01:00.000-05:00

Actually, I'll probably be sound asleep well before midnight.

I've been seriously neglecting this blog as of late, and will try to do better in the new year. Other than that, I'm not making any resolutions. My only goal is to write the next book in the Summer Evans series.

Happy New Year to everyone!

Tis the Season

2007-12-27T07:00:00.000-05:00

Since New Year's Eve is only days away, I thought it would be a good time to re-post this (especially since we had four DUI arrests on Sunday alone!) Keep this in mind if you're out partying. If you've had more than one or two drinks over the course of the evening, make sure someone else drives please!

The following is fiction, but details what a typical DUI arrest might be like—at least in Shaler Township. Definitely not great literature by any means, but you'll get the idea.

I flicked the switch for the overhead lights on my patrol car when the Ford Taurus that I’d been following for half a mile crossed the center line for the third time. When the car didn’t pull over, I turned on the siren. The Taurus slowed down, drifted toward the curb and stopped.

I pulled behind the car, leaving enough of my unit in the travel lane for safety. I notified dispatch of my location and gave them the registration number.

Dispatch repeated the plate information and my location. Another unit answered and said he was on his way to back me up.

I grabbed my flashlight and got out of the car. When I reached the Taurus, I pressed on the trunk. It was closed tight. No one in there. Not that there ever would be, but I didn’t like to take chances.

The driver spoke before I did, asking me why he was pulled over. His words were slurred and he reeked of alcohol.

I told him why. I shined the flashlight quickly around the inside of the car. There were four empty beer cans on the floor of the passenger side and an open can in a cup holder.

The driver fumbled with his wallet, passing over his license three times before he found it and handed it to me. He didn’t know where his registration or insurance card were.

I took his license back to my patrol car and entered the info into the MDT. His license came back DUI suspended. Surprise, surprise. Dispatch informed me his vehicle registration was also suspended. I had them notify the towing company.

As I went back to the Taurus, my back up arrived and I filled him in. He stood by while I spoke to the driver again. I asked if he had anything to drink tonight.

He assured me that he’d only had one beer with his dinner.

I suppressed a smile. Why was it they always only had one? Just once I’d like someone to say, “Hell, yeah, I’ve been drinking all night.”

I asked him to step out of the car. He swayed so much he almost fell. I asked him if he had any illness or disability which would preclude him from taking a field sobriety test. He said no and agreed to submit to the test. We moved to a well-lit parking lot nearby. I demonstrated the first one—the finger to nose test. Instead of listening to my instructions, he tried to do it at the same time as I did. The ability to listen to instruction was actually part of the test. He touched his upper lip with his left hand twice and the bridge of his nose, then the side of his nose with his right.

The second test was worse. I showed him how to hold his leg straight in front of him, six inches off the ground. He didn’t even make it to the count of one thousand two on either leg.

The third test was the straight line walk. He not only couldn’t walk heel to toe, he couldn’t even stay on the line. I placed him under arrest, handcuffed him and placed him in the back of my patrol car. The officer backing me up inventoried his car and waited for the tow, while I took the prisoner back to the station.

In the booking room I turned on the Intoxylizer machine to let it warm up while we waited the required twenty minutes before I could test his breath. In the meantime I read him the Chemical Testing form, which explained that if he refused to submit to testing, his license would be suspended for an additional year. Probably didn’t matter to him—he was suspended already and still driving.

He signed the form and I showed him how to blow into the machine. On his first reading, he blew a 0.25 and on the second, a 0.21. I gave him a copy of the reading and asked if there was someone he could call to pick him up. He arranged for his wife to get him. When she arrived at the station, I explained that he would be charged with DUI by summons and he’d be notified of the preliminary hearing. If he failed to appear, a warrant would be issued for his physical arrest and he’d be taken to the county jail.

That was one off the road. At least for tonight.

Raising Your Book

2007-09-18T21:30:00.000-04:00

My revision is done. I gave the book to two writing friends to read. I actually have free time for a change. So why do I feel so lost?

I've spent almost every evening and weekend for the past several months on this book. Even when I wasn't writing or revising, the plot and the characters weren't far from my mind. I pretty much lived and breathed this story and I loved every minute of it. Depending on what my readers have to say about it, it'll soon be time to pack it up and send it off to my agent.

I've heard writers compare their books to having a baby. I think it's harder than that. Childbirth was a piece of cake compared to writing a book. To me it's more like raising a child and sending him off to college. Childbirth is the beginning of a relationship with a brand new little person, just like beginning a book.

You love and nurture the child as he grows. Sometimes things don't go exactly the way you planned. Sometimes they go great. A writer nurtures the plot and characters in much the same way. Just as in real life, there are twists and turns along the way. Sometimes your characters have tantrums just like your two year old. Then you hit those tumultuous teenage years and life becomes a roller coaster ride just like the third act of your story. Then finally--graduation. You sigh. You're so proud! This is your baby!

Then comes the day you have to pack him up and say goodbye.

Although it's definitely not as intense as dropping my son off at college for the first time, I hate to say goodbye to this story. When I wrote the first book, I was glad it was over. I was sick of it. Not this one.

So, that's where I am. As much as I hate to see it end, I'm looking forward to writing the next one. There's some consolation in the fact that I'm writing a series, so I still get to hang out with old friends. I've got plot ideas starting to form in the back of my brain and characters coming to life. This could be fun!

But I have to say, I'd like to skip the terrible twos in the next book.

Revision Time

2007-08-17T15:31:00.000-04:00

Sorry I haven't updated lately, but I'm knee-deep in revisions right now. I finished the 2nd book and plan to have it revised by September. So far, it's going well, but I don't have time for much else.

I'll see "yinz" when I'm finished.

Furry Capital of the World?

2007-07-11T21:18:00.000-04:00

Who would have thought that Pittsburgh would be the place for the world's largest furry convention? Surprised? Me too.

When I was reading the Post-Gazette online last week, I came across an article that Pittsburgh was hosting the 11th annual Arthrocon, a convention where people dress up as animals. When none of us were paying attention, 2500 furries descended on our city and they love it here. I had to know more. I found another article (with better pictures) on the Tribune Review site.

I know I've lived a somewhat sheltered life, but I never knew there was really such a thing as a furry. I'm familiar with Kenny Kangaroo, the Pirate Parrot and some other mascots, but they get paid to dress like that. What kind of people would stuff themselves in hot, smelly, furry suits just for fun? Was it really for the kinky stuff that was portrayed on an episode of CSI?

According to the Arthrocon website, the convention is for people who like animals with human characteristics, like Bugs Bunny. There is a strict code of conduct at the convention -"PG at all times." Once again, you can't believe anything you see on an episode of CSI.

So who are these furries? Wikipedia has just about everything you need to know about furries, including this photo of the fursuit dance at the 2005 convention.

Jerry and I just happened to be downtown on Saturday night to see White Christmas at the Benedum theater. As we were walking down Liberty Avenue from the parking lot, all I could hear were people on the street talking about the furries. One man walking in front of us pointed across the street and said to his companion, "Look, I think that one has a tail." I looked and sure enough, there was a girl on the other side of the street wearing not only a tail, but little cat ears. Years ago, when Liberty was the red light district of the city, it might not have been all that unusual to see a girl in some type of "costume." Since Liberty's now been "redd up" it's a very strange sight. I was kind of disapointed that I didn't see anyone in full furry regalia, though.

That would have made my night.

Teen Idols

2007-06-12T07:22:00.000-04:00

In honor of the release today of Season Two of the Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteries on Amazon, I'm devoting this post to teen idols. Anyone else out there remember being glued to the TV on Sunday nights at 7? Back in the pre-remote control days, no one dared get up and change the channel. My sister Mimi and I would have killed anyone who tried.

My first crush was on Davy Jones of the Monkees. Maybe because we were about the same height. Or it could have been the British accent. That was also the year my mom bought me bright yellow, patent leather go-go boots. Between the boots, the little sunglasses that we called "Monkee shades," and my "Monkee shirt" with the double row of buttons, I was cool. At least I thought I was.

After that I moved on to Jack Wild, who was the little runt on H.R. Pufnstuf. Remember that show? That crush only lasted briefly because my fickle heart moved on to more mature things. Like The Partridge Family.

In seventh grade, The Partridge Family was at the height of its popularity and I fell head over heels in love with Keith Partridge, aka David Cassidy.

In school that year, we had an assignment to write our autobiographies, but we had to extend them to the year 2000. In my work of art, I became an actress and starred with David on the Partridge Family. We got married and live happily ever after. Looking back at how David's life turned out after PF, it's probably for the best that it didn't work out between us.

For the next few years there was no one in my life. I became too busy with friends, school, and beer parties on Friday nights at Clare Cook's house when her mother went to bingo.

Everything went along smoothly until that fateful Sunday night when I turned on the TV and there they were. My little heart went thumpety-thump. For the next three seasons, Mimi and I were glued to the set. She liked Joe (Shaun Cassidy), while I went for older, more mature--like myself--brother Frank (Parker Stevenson).

Growing up I read most, if not all, of the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys mysteries. It's probably part of the reason I write crime fiction. I even own a few Nancy Drew books from the 1930's that I found in an antique store. Every time I see books at a flea market, I have to check for more. There's nothing better than reading about Nancy zipping around in her Roadster.

So, who were your idols? Come on, I 'fessed up. I want to hear all your secrets!

Cops and Cars

2007-06-07T08:43:00.000-04:00

Middle aged men should not be permitted to buy cars. To be specific, they shouldn't be allowed to buy police cars. Our department just purchased the world's ugliest police car. It looks something like this, except without the NYPD logo.

What were they thinking? A Dodge Charger with a V-8 engine and mag wheels. Whoever heard of a Dodge Charger for a police car? Police cars are Crown Vics, or Impalas like our other cars.

The only reason I can think of is midlife crisis. The guys who pick the cars are no longer twenty five year old rookies. Their personal vehicles are trucks so large they don't fit into the slots in the parking lot. They are waxed to perfection and heaven forbid they get a spot of dirt on them. I'm sure their wives aren't allowed to drive them. They've been banished to the minivans full of toys, sippee cups and stale Cheerios.

To their credit, the other new police car is an Expedition. Now that makes sense to me. A four wheel drive behemoth can come in handy during our long Pittsburgh winters. What are they going to do with the Charger the four or five months of the year when there's snow and ice on the ground? Put it in the garage for the winter? Obviously this was not a well thought out purchase. And did I mention the car is ugly? The only car we had that was worse was a Dodge Neon. We used to call that one the Clown Car.

My solution? A woman should be in charge of the police car purchases. Like me, for instance. If I were choosing the car, I'd be looking at practical things. You'd never hear me saying, "Dude, this car is so cool!" I'd want to know how well it handled in the snow, not how nifty the skid marks look when you hit the brakes. Is there enough room for the equipment or is the laptop really going to be in my lap? Am I going to hit my head on the video camera when I get into the car (yes that is what happens!)? Does the shotgun fit over the rear window or is the back of the car too small?

See what I mean? I'd at least make sure the cars had enough cup holders.

I'm afraid if they don't put me in charge, the next car will look like this:

Heaven help us.

Post Conference Brain Mush

2007-05-22T14:27:00.000-04:00

I attended the Pennwriter's Conference this past weekend and although it's Tuesday now, I am still brain dead. Talk about information overload. Every session I attended was packed with things I either didn't know, things I should know, or things I knew and forgot.

I had a lot of those "Ah-ha!" moments-those moments when a speaker says something that just clicks. I had several of those in the two sessions taught by Hallie Ephron. One session was on revision and the other was on mystery writing. After the mystery writing class, I was tempted to call my agent and say, "Um, is it too late to fix a few things?" I mentioned this to Hallie and she said that even now she tries not to look at her published books because she'd find things she wanted to change. A couple of other authors told me the same thing.

Vicky Thompson's keynote speech at lunch on Saturday was inspirational. She talked about writing, and her books, and especially about not ever giving up. Vicky will be giving a workshop here in Pittsburgh in October sponsored by our Sisters in Crime group. (Keep checking the website for details.)

Lee Lofland's session called "CS I Don't Think So" was great. He showed writers that they should not rely on TV for crime scene investigative techniques. I think a lot of writers went home and had to fix their manuscripts afterwards. Lee has a book coming out in August from Writer's Digest Books in the Howdunit series, called Police Procedure and Investigation: A Guide for Writers. It sounds like a reference every mystery writer should have on their bookshelf. Lee is a great guy and fit right in with us mystery weirdos. Boy, did he have some stories to tell!

And I was on my very first panel and survived. There were a gazillion of us on a Finding an Agent panel. It shocked me that it was standing room only. I guess everyone wanted to know what magic we possessed that we actually had agents. I hope we convinced them there was no magic involved--just lots and lots of hard work.

Not only was the conference itself great, it was exciting to see friends receive recognition for their hard work. Sandy won an award for a short story, Kristine got an honorable mention for an article and Mike has an agent very interested in his book. A good weekend all around.

Now it's back to work as soon as I get my brain cells functioning again.

I Just Committed Murder

2007-05-03T07:22:00.000-04:00

Well not really, but it did get your attention, didn't it?

For the past few weeks I've been thinking of how to increase the tension in my WIP. As I near the climax of the story, I decided there aren't enough bad things happening to my protagonist. She was plugging along, thinking she was going to wrap it all up soon. The person who she was sure was the killer is dead and that kind of put a crimp in things, but it wasn't enough. I was at the point where I was thinking, why doesn't she just give up and go home? I certainly would.

(If this is going to spoil reading the story for anyone, stop reading this now.)

So the only thing I could do was kill the person who has been her best friend since she was four years old. Yep. I did him in. Chris Danchek is the reason Summer is in Gettysburg in the first place. He had invited her to his wedding, but when his fiancee dumped him a few weeks earlier, Summer decided to visit him anyway. While she's there she witnesses a fight between him and and a guy trying to build stuff too close to the battlefield. In short, the guy gets murdered and Chris gets arrested. Summer spends most of the book trying to prove that Chris is innocent. When someone else is murdered and someone runs Summer off the road and into a tree, VERY, VERY HOT (and I mean sizzling) FBI agent finally believes that Chris is innocent.

But just when Chris is going to be released from jail, someone stabs him. He ends up in the hospital on a ventilator and all that stuff. He was getting better and was just about to be moved out of ICU. Summer was happy.

And that, dear friends, was the problem. She's not supposed to be happy yet. The book ain't over. I went back and forth, talking to myself for several days. Should I or shouldn't I? I finally decided it was the only option. I had to kill Chris. In a very dramatic scene, Summer is talking to above mentioned FBI hunk about evidence found in the murder of the person she thought was the murderer. Confused yet? Good. Her cell phone rings. The display shows it's the hospital-she thinks it might be Chris calling-that he was off the ventilator and in a regular room. It's not him. It's the nurse. And well, to know more, you'll just have to read the book.

It surprised me that it was such an emotional scene to write. I mean, I really liked Chris. He and Summer had an interesting backstory. I didn't want to kill him, but I had to do it for the sake of the story. Summer will now be emotionally out of control, out for revenge, and willing to take much bigger risks which will make for a kick-ass showdown at the end of the book.

So, do "yinz" think I did the right thing? Who would you kill off for the sake of your story?

As Time Goes By

2007-04-25T13:52:00.000-04:00

Yes, I know I stole that title, but it seemed appropriate.

I realized today that I hadn't posted anything for awhile. You'll have to forgive me, though, because I've been working on THE BOOK. I'm trying to get this damned first draft finished. My goal is June 1st, even if it kills me. I know exactly what needs to happen in the next 70 or so pages so I'm hoping it goes easier than I think it will.

I also redid my website. I think it looks a little more professional than the old site. It'll do for now, anyway.

I'll be pretty busy over the next several weeks. On Monday, May 7th, I'll be helping with the Festival of Mystery that Mystery Lovers Bookshop has every year. I'll also be on a panel at the Pennwriters Conference the weekend of May 18th-20th. The panel is on finding an agent and I'll be joined by fellow writers Rebecca Drake, Annette Dashofy, and Meryl Neiman. We all found our agents in different ways and I think we have a lot of good info to share.

Writers Are a Strange Bunch

2007-03-26T22:02:00.000-04:00

We writers are a strange bunch. I was just reading some of my favorite blogs while I was trying to figure out a few things with a scene I'm working on.

One of my favorite blogs is Miss Snark's. For anyone who doesn't know, Miss Snark is an anonymous literary agent who performs a great service (although she'd never admit it) to hapless writers everywhere. Anyway, tonight she had a link to the blog of a writer, Pat Wood, who regularly posts comments on Miss Snark's blog. Pat's post today is about getting the 2007 Putnam catalog and finding her book on the cover, and a two page spread inside. This is huge news for a writer.

I don't know Pat at all but when I read her post tonight, I was absolutely thrilled for her. I was almost as excited as when my friend Rebecca Drake, showed us the catalog featuring Don't Be Afraid. Every time an author I know--either personally or just through blogs--has a success, I'm happy for them.

I don't think this happens in any other profession. Like I said, we writers are strange. Maybe it's because we have to work so hard at what we do. Unlike so-called normal jobs, much of the time we work in solitude. It takes most of us years to accomplish even a modicum of success. Maybe that's why it's sweeter when one of us succeeds. All the writers I know are generous with what little time they have. They're willing to help other writers succeed. They don't look down on those who are just starting out. They don't forget that it wasn't that long ago they were in the same position.

I find it easy to cheer for my fellow writers. Every writer who succeeds makes it that much more possible for other writers to do the same. Unlike other jobs, there's room for all of us. We might be strange, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

The Big Five-O

2007-03-02T11:44:00.001-05:00

And I don't mean Hawaii.

Next Wednesday, March 7th, I will be a half century old. That's right. Five-Zero. Half of one hundred. I don't know how this happened. Wasn't I just thirty? Or forty?

I feel like I'm living proof that age is all in your head. Sure, there are days when it's hard to drag my sorry ass out of bed and it takes an hour or so to work the kinks out of the back, but most days I don't feel any different than I did twenty years ago. I don't think I look fifty. I don't have any wrinkles and I still get zits. And if I keep my gray roots from growing in, who would know? When I think about what my mother looked like at fifty, I thank my lucky stars. I always thought Mom looked much older than she was. But then again, I was just a kid at the time. Doesn't everyone look old when you're a teenager?

I have no huge celebration plans. My family is taking me out to Claddagh's Irish Pub on Saturday March 10. It's my favorite restaurant. Feel free to stop by. I might even bake my own birthday cake. Spice cake with homemade buttercream icing, of course.

I have no big plans for this year either, other than finishing my second book. When I was thirty I had my second son. When I was forty I earned my Black Belt. I'm not sure I could top those. A publishing contract would be nice this year, though.

Okay, I've rambled long enough. I just want to say that I'm looking forward to the second half of my century. It's going to be a hoot!

Two Thirds

2007-02-04T20:38:00.000-05:00

Well, I've made it to the two thirds point in the first draft of Buried Lies. I've strugged through the last few chapters, but this weekend I pounded out over ten pages, and this was between grouting tiles in the bathroom. I don't know--maybe the mindless chore of grouting is conducive to plotting or something. Whatever it is, it's working. And I have a lot more tiles to grout.

The two thirds point is usually a milestone for me, because the last 100 or so pages are the most fun to write. This is when all hell breaks loose and things look the most dire for the protagonist. Right now, Summer is sitting in a hospital waiting to see if her friend (who was stabbed) will make it though surgery. Then she's going after the person who did it. I still have two big surprises to reveal yet and I can't wait.

I also got an email from my agent today. She gave me the names of the editors and houses where she sent my manuscript, so now I'm trying not to panic. All major houses (cue screaming here). Don't worry, I'll keep reminding myself to take deep breaths.

In the meantime, back to Summer. She's got work to do.

Women and Crime Fiction

2007-02-02T08:59:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I posted this on a group blog (Working Stiffs) that I belong to. I think it's an important topic, so I'm repeating it here.

On Sarah Weinman’s blog yesterday, there was a link to an intriguing article on women crime writers. The author of the article, Julie Bindel, interviewed several female British novelists about writing crime novels and what makes their books different than those written by men. The authors all stated mostly the same thing: That women humanize the victims better than men. They write crime novels as a way of “understanding the danger that lurks around us.”

The more I think about it, the more I think this is true. While both men and women are equal in the ability to write crime novels, each have different ways of presenting the story. One way is not better than the other. Just different.

Men like to deal with facts. Many times (not always), men lay out the story, investigate the crime and catch the killer. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am. There’s blood and guts and maybe a little bit of angst on the part of the protagonist—but not as much as a female writer would show.

Women, on the other hand, are more likely to explore the reasons for the crime. They want to know why the murder occurred—not just how. Female characters often go through quite a bit of anxiety and anguish in their quest. They want not only to find the killer, but bring some justice to the victim.

From what I’ve seen, this is true in real police work, too. Female officers are more likely to empathize with the victim. Male officers just want to solve the crime. “Just the facts, ma’am,” as Joe Friday used to say. That’s not to say they don’t feel sympathy for the victim—they do—but they don’t handle it the same way a female officer does.

Another thing I found interesting about Sarah’s post were the comments. There were several comments from men who, in my opinion, completely misunderstood what the article was about. For some reason, they seemed to take it more as personal criticism, than just a general study of how women and men can approach the same subject in different ways. They accused the interviewed authors of stereotyping. I didn’t see the article as stereotyping men at all. The women were giving their views on how women view violence and how they portray it in their own work. There was no male bashing of any kind. The differences between the male comments and female comments proves the point that men and women are inherently different. We just don’t think the same. That should be a surprise to no one.

What do you think of the article? Do you agree that women and men write differently? When writing a character of the opposite sex, how do you approach these differences?

The Wait Begins

2007-01-12T20:27:00.000-05:00

Well, it's off. My manuscript, that is. I finished my revision and mailed it to my agent yesterday. So now the wait begins. My agent plans on submitting to five publishing houses, then waiting for a response before submitting to the next five.

Fortunately I have plenty to do while I wait. As soon as I finish posting this, I'm getting back to writing the second book, Buried Lies. I'm looking forward to it. I really like this story. The plot is more complicated and it has more layers than Lost Summer, not to mention a cool subplot. Being away from it for a month helped me to figure out where I needed to go with it next. Definitely a good thing.

I'm hoping I'll be so involved with Summer's life over the next weeks that I won't notice the passing of time as I wait to hear from my agent. I don't think that's too unrealistic, do you?

Goals

2007-01-01T14:47:00.000-05:00

Well, here it is, a brand new year.

A lot of people make resolutions for the new year, but I don't. A resolution is so final. To me it seems like setting yourself up for failure. I think setting goals is a much better idea.

Goals are something to reach for while a resolution is "make it or break it." Many studies show that people who set goals end up much further along whatever path they're taking than those who don't. The opposite is true of making a resolution. Most resolutions are broken before the end of January.

The trick to setting goals is to make them attainable. Don't say your goal is to earn a million dollars this year when you don't even have a job. Make getting a job your goal instead. Don't say you want to lose fifty pounds this year. Make your goal eating right and exercising more.

I have lots of goals, but the ones I want to focus on this year are:

Write the best I can and do whatever my agent needs me to do to get that publishing contract. This includes finishing the second book and starting the third.
Attend a few conferences. I'm already planning to attend the Pennwriters conference in May. I'd like to attend another one later in the year.
Keep eating right and exercise more consistently. I managed to lose five pounds in December without dieting. I just watched my portions. I don't need as much food as I think I do!

That's it. Three simple goals.

So what are your goals for 2007?

Preserving Our History Part 2

2006-12-20T15:56:00.000-05:00

Just a brief post to thank the Pennsylvania Gaming Board for voting against the ill conceived idea of a casino in Gettysburg. I am elated. Thanks to groups like the Civil War Preservation Trust, No Casino Gettysburg and other preservation groups, this hallowed ground has been saved for the time being.

Battlefield preservation is an issue that will not go away. More and more of these precious sites are lost every year, and not just at Gettysburg. Please consider joining the CWPT in their fight to preserve our history.

Bah Humbug!

2006-11-15T14:53:00.000-05:00

Don't get me wrong. I like Christmas. Actually I love Christmas. But would someone please tell the stores and the media that Christmas is in December!

I turned on my radio Monday afternoon expecting to hear the normal soft rock that the station usually plays. To my surprise they were playing Christmas music. (Excuse me, they call it Holiday Music.) Maybe it's just me, but it's not even Thanksgiving yet. I haven't thought about buying the turkey or anything else that goes with it. Halloween was just two weeks ago. The weather has been mild. I haven't even gotten my winter coat cleaned yet, and we're supposed to be dreaming of a White Christmas? I don't think so.

Every year it seems that the Christmas season (and for those of you who prefer the word holiday--get over it already! It's Christmas. Period. End of discussion) arrives earlier and earlier. In the past, no one put up decorations or trees until at least mid-December. Whatever happened to Santa Claus putting up the tree when he delivered the toys? That was one of the magical things about Christmas morning. What could be better than a room full of toys and a beautifully lit six foot tree?

Should we blame it on the retail stores? After all, the longer the season, the more money they make (theoretically, anyway). My feeling is that most people have a set amount they spend for gifts, and the length of the shopping season doesn't matter. The people who like to get their shopping done early, do it so they don't have to deal with the crowds and overpriced products. One year, I was finished shopping by September, but that was only because I was pregnant and due in January. I was approaching beached whale status and didn't think I'd fit up the store aisles if I waited.

Maybe we should blame it on the fast pace of today's world. It seems like everyone has to have something to plan for. Play dates are scheduled for the kids. If we have time, we might pencil in a friend for lunch or dinner. Everyone is on the go all the time. There's never any down time.

What I suggest is that everyone take a deep breath and relax. Don't think about Christmas yet. Next week is Thanksgiving. Let's all think about what we're thankful for and just enjoy the day. Spend some time with your family. Eat lots of turkey and have some dessert for a change. Play a game or watch a movie. Take some time to rest and recharge.

Then hit the stores on Friday. By then I'll be ready!

Preserving Our History

2006-10-25T20:37:00.000-04:00

If you ask most people where their favorite place is, they’d probably name a location like Paris, Hawaii, or maybe New York. I don’t have to even leave the state of Pennsylvania. My favorite spot in the world is Gettysburg.

Back in 1994, I managed to convince my family to go to Gettysburg for vacation. Andy was ten at the time, and Josh was six. Andy was okay with the idea, but Josh and my husband, Jerry weren’t too sure. I think I threw in the enticement of Hershey Park to get them to give in. They loved it. Josh even wrote a book about the Battle of Gettysburg in middle school (there’s a copy of it in the Shaler Area Middle School library). Fast forward twelve years. Andy is now working on his Masters in History at Kent State. Ask him anything about the Civil War (or as he calls it, The War of the Rebellion) and he’ll tell you more than you want to know.

Several years ago, I heard about how developers were planning to build a huge housing complex on a section of the Chancellorsville battlefield in Virginia. The Battle of Chancellorsville was fought in May of 1963 and it was during this battle that General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson of the Army of Northern Virginia was shot and subsequently died. I was astounded that there were parts of this important ground that weren’t protected and were being threatened by development. This is when I became aware of an organization called the Civil War Preservation Trust.

The CWPT’s sole purpose is to preserve these precious sites for future generations. With the help of their many supporters and various government entities, they were able to stave off the Chancellorsville threat. But with each victory, there is always another battle to fight. Recently developers illegally dug a huge trench on National Park property in Harpers Ferry. The fight goes on and on. Fortunately the victories outnumber the defeats.

The battle that is closest to my heart is taking place at Gettysburg. A development group by the name of Chance Enterprises has applied to the state for a license to build a casino less than a mile from the East Cavalry Field at Gettysburg. Hopefully the Gaming Board will have the good sense to turn them down, but we can’t always count on government officials to do the right thing. There were over 50,000 casualties in the three days of fighting at Gettysburg and the thought of a casino on ground where so many "gave the last full measure of devotion" to preserve this country is incomprehensible.

Fortunately, there are groups like No Casino Gettysburg, and especially the CWPT working hard to make sure this doesn’t happen. We need to preserve our heritage for future generations. We’ve already lost many battlefields to development and neglect. We can’t afford to lose anymore.

Learning from the Rocket Man

2006-10-09T20:09:00.000-04:00

Everything I learned in life I learned from Elton John. Well, not really, but I learned a lot. I never realized I was even a fan until a few months ago when I bought a DVD of a concert he did several years ago at Madison Square Garden. I’d always enjoyed his music but had forgotten how much. Listening to the songs from the Madman Across the Water album (yes, I’m old enough to still call them albums) brought back memories of the parties at Claire Cook’s house on Friday nights while her mother was at Bingo.

And on Friday night, my husband, my sister, and I went to see him at Mellon Arena. He performed for three hours—with no intermission. It was incredible. If you want to read more about it see the review in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.

Here are a few things I learned:

1. Start with your best stuff.
Some performers open with something mellow, then build to “the good stuff.” Sir Elton opens with Funeral For a Friend (Love Lies Bleeding), without a doubt one of his best. A writer should do the same. Open the book with a bang. If you save the good stuff till later, your readers might not make it that far.

2. Surround yourself with good friends.
Some of the members of Elton’s band have been with him from the beginning. Nigel Olsson (drums), Bob Birch (bass), and Davey Johnstone (guitar) have been around forever. His new CD, The Captain and the Kid (a sequel to Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy) tells about his long and sometime difficult friendship with his lyricist, Bernie Taupin. Find people who share the same interests and make friends. I hang out with a good group of very talented people. I hope to call them friends for the rest of my life.

3. Don’t get in a rut.
Change is good. Elton is always reinventing himself. He’s gone from the flamboyant performer with the weird costumes and goofy glasses to someone you’d like to have over to your house for dinner. He’s written all different kinds of music. Pop, rock, classical—even Broadway musicals. Writers should continually challenge themselves. Never finish learning. Even if you write in the same genre all the time, keep things new for the reader—and yourself

4. Respect the people who put you where you are today.
Near the end of his concert, Elton took the time to sign dozens of autographs at the edge of the stage. He worked his way across and signed whatever people handed him. He didn’t have to do that—or do it for as long as he did. It showed that he cares about his fans. He knows who put him on that stage. I’m not in the position yet, but you can be sure that when I have a book out, I’ll sign as many as you put in front of me.

5. And finally, have fun!
No matter what you do for a living, try to enjoy it!

In support of one of my friends—Rebecca Drake, author of the thriller, Don’t Be Afraid, will be appearing at Joseph-Beth Booksellers in South Side Works, on Friday, October 13th at 7:00 pm. If you mention our group blog, Working Stiffs, she might just have a surprise for you!

The Omaha Steak Incident

2006-09-17T22:47:00.000-04:00

No, it’s not the title of my next novel. It’s what happened when I gave Jerry the phone when the salesman from Omaha Steaks called. I don’t know how they got our number, unless we’re in the phone book under “these people will mortgage their house for steak.”

It started out innocently enough. We’d bought steaks from Omaha in the past, but we purchased them online. We got a nice package of filets, and some other things for a reasonable price. They came in a nice little Styrofoam cooler and didn’t take up much space in our freezer. And they were very tasty.

After that, we’d get an occasional email with their latest “special.” Most of the time I’d look at it, then delete it. I think we ordered something once or twice.

Then came the phone call which went something like this:
“This is Omaha Steaks, can I tell you about our latest special?”
“We don’t really need anything right now,” I said.
“I understand that, but we have some really good specials right now.”

He wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I handed the phone off to Jerry. Surely he could get rid of a pushy salesman.

Right.

The Omaha Steak guy and Jerry got along like they’d been best friends since kindergarten.

This is not good, I thought. Boy, was that an understatement.

After he hung up, Jerry said, “$154.00 for steaks is a good price, isn’t it?”

When I could speak again, I found out he’d ordered 12 filet mignons, 6 of some other steak and some hamburgers. After I figured out the cost per pound, it did turn out to be a decent price. It’s just that I’m not used to spending that much on steak. Not all at one time, anyway.

So the next time the Omaha Steak guy calls, I’m telling him that Jerry is not allowed to talk to him anymore.

Remembering 9/11

2006-09-09T20:31:00.000-04:00

Just like previous generations remember where they were when Pearl Harbor was attacked, or when President Kennedy was assassinated, this generation will remember where they were when terrorists flew planes into the World Trade Center five years ago.

I was only six when President Kennedy was killed. I remember the nuns at school crying and sending us home early. I remember the television being on constantly and playing "funeral" with my younger sister and my cousins, using our toy box as a coffin. Being so young, it didn't make a great impression on me.

September 11, 2001 was different. In many ways, this event was more horrific than both Pearl Harbor and the Kennedy assassination. We were attacked on our own soil. It wasn't a military attack. It was a cowardly attack on innocent civilians.

I was at work entering police reports into the computer. The phone rang and when I answered it, the wife of one of the police officers told me to turn on the television, that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. In the squad room, the TV was already on, and we watched the events unfold. At the time, most of us thought that it was an accident--that a plane had malfunctioned somehow and hit the tower. No one even considered that it might be deliberate, until we watched a second plane hit the other tower, then the Pentagon and Shanksville.

Procrastinators Anonymous

2006-08-22T15:12:00.000-04:00

Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m a procrastinator.

Last week, I vowed to have 50 more pages of my WIP finished by September 10th. That would get me to the halfway point of my book. Piece of cake, right? Wrong. In the last week, I’ve only written three pages. It’s not that I didn’t have the time. I could squeeze it in. My problem is the P word, and it doesn’t have anything to do with the potty (unless it means cleaning it).

I’ve been procrastinating. Every time I think about sitting down with my laptop, I find something that needs cleaned, laundry that needs done, baskets of clothes that need folded, grocery shopping—the list is endless.

All this made me wonder why people procrastinate. I found that the reasons are as numerous as the excuses procrastinators use. According to the about.com website, the top reasons are:
1. Fear of failure.
2. Fear of success.
3. Perfectionism
4. Boredom
5. Anger
6. Lack of skills or information.
7. Poor health.
8. Distractions.
9. Task seems too large.

I don’t buy all of these reasons. I understand the first three. (I think I have all three of those problems.) Four, eight and nine I also get. Five makes no sense to me. How can anger make you procrastinate? Number six is a cop-out. It sounds like something a procrastinator would say: “ I don’t know how to do it.” I don’t believe poor health has anything to do with procrastination. If someone is sick, they have a legitimate reason not to do something.

So, what’s the solution? One is to set goals. Even if you don’t reach your goal, you will have accomplished more than if you didn’t have one.

Next, prioritize. That’s one of the toughest for me. I know it’s more important to write than to check my e-mail or clean the toilet, but knowing and doing aren’t the same thing.

Another is to make sure your work area is organized. I use a laptop—my work area is my lap. Not a problem.

One of the best solutions I read about was to tell yourself you’ll only write for five minutes, then you’ll do the laundry (or whatever it is you think is more important). Chances are good that you’ll work a lot longer than five minutes.

For me, the best solution can be summed up in a quote by Mary Heston Vorse: “The art of writing is the art of applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair.”

I'm ready to get back to those 50 pages. How about you?

How Would You Cast Your Novel?

2006-08-17T10:13:00.000-04:00

Several days ago on another blog, the authors were talking about who they would cast if their books were made into movies. They all concluded that chances of that happening were pretty slim, but it was a fun exercise anyway.

After that, I couldn't help but try to come up with my own "cast," which is really a stretch, since I'm not even published yet. I don't go to movies and I watch very little TV, so this was a problem. When I write, I have a definite picture in my mind of what my characters look like, but pinning it down to "real people" is hard! I came up with a couple of "maybes."

For my protagonist Summer, who is an ex-cop, martial arts instructor, I thought of two actresses who might work: Jill Hennessey from Crossing Jordan or Mariska Hargitay from Law and Order, SVU.

Casting Neil would be much harder. One suggestion I was given was David James Elliott from the TV show JAG, but I don't know. He's not quite what I pictured.

In the book I'm working on now, the second in the series, there's a hunky FBI agent who I describe as an updated, 40-something version of Sonny Crockett from Miami Vice.

I realize Don Johnson is probably too old at this point, but you get the idea.

I'd like to hear from everyone else on this. How would you cast your book if given the opportunity?

Don't be shy! This could be fun!

Why a Website?

2006-08-12T21:32:00.000-04:00

Being a cheapskate at heart, I've spent the past few weeks designing and working on my own website http://www.joycetremel.com. I don't know any html, and only know enough about computers to be dangerous, but thanks to my son, Josh, and Yahoo's sitebuilder, it was all relatively painless. It doesn't look too bad to me, even though I can't get the red at the top to go all the way across the page. I'm leaving it alone.

I was at the point of wondering why I was bothering with a website at all, when I noticed an article in the new Writer's Digest magazine on the necessity of writers having a site. The article stresses that a web presence is critical, even before having an agent or a book contract. The fact that a writer has a website shows an agent or editor that she is serious about her writing career. Agents and editors routinely Google potential clients, and not just to make sure they're not nutcases or serial killers. In addition to being able to write a good story, they want their clients to have a way to market themselves and their book. A website is an ideal way to do this.

In spite of what Writer's Digest says, I'm not counting on hearing from any agents who just happen to stumble upon my website. I'm still planning on finding an agent the old-fashioned way: through good writing, hard work and lots of perseverance!

I guess that means I'd better get back to writing...

Where Do Writers Get Ideas?

2006-07-19T09:08:00.000-04:00

I came across an article yesterday on the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette's website about a woman's body found in a pen of nine hybrid wolves. Her body was intact, but had been partially eaten. Unlike many people, my first reaction was not "yuck." The first thing that went through my mind was there's a story in here somewhere.

It made me wonder how and where other writers get their story ideas. I have a story file containing newspaper clippings, pages I've printed from things I found on the internet, notes I've jotted down, etc. I even have a Word document called Lines to Use in Future Books.

One of my favorite articles came from the FBI website about two men who were arrested for bringing in female illegals from Mexico and selling them for sex slaves. Another favorite is about employees of UCLA being investigated for selling body parts of corpses that had been donated for research purposes. I don't know if they'll ever work their way into a book, but they are in my file if I need them.

My novel, LOST SUMMER, came from an article I read on date rape drugs. The novel I'm working on now was sparked by not only my love of Gettysburg and battlefield preservation, but by the controversy over building a casino next to the battlefield.

Story ideas can also come out of nowhere. I'll be having a conversation with someone, and something they say sparks an idea. People you see on the street. Wisps of dialogue in a restaurant. You get the picture.

So, other writers out there--where do you get your ideas?

Conflict

2006-06-22T19:29:00.000-04:00

I've been diligently working on my WIP, but this week I hit a snag. I began writing a scene that just didn't work. I knew what I wanted to accomplish, but no matter how many times I rewrote it, something was missing.

The scene took place at a restaurant where Summer was having dinner with the hunky FBI agent. She only agreed to go out with him because she thinks he's hiding something. He doesn't seem interested in any of the evidence she's come up with so far in the murder investigation. I finally let it sit for a few days, and when I tried writing it again last night, I figured out what the problem was: No conflict.

Instead of a nice dinner where Summer questions him politely (boring!), it's now a scene with tension between them and Summer ends up pissed off and walking out on him. This sets up the end of the chapter, where, because she's still upset, she realizes too late that she's being followed.

As much as I hate conflict in real life, I have to keep reminding myself that my characters live for conflict. Sometimes it's hard to put them in situations that I would never find myself in. I get so used to seeing things through Summer's eyes when I'm writing, that I have to consciously not put too much of myself in her. If I don't put her in danger, threaten her life, have her stumble on dead bodies, etc., it would be an awfully boring story. No one wants to read what happens in real life, especially mine.

That's the great thing about writing fiction. We can live dangerously and not get hurt!

My Friends Made Me Write This Post...

2006-06-07T20:35:00.000-04:00

My friends have been reminding me that I haven't posted for awhile (Annette & Kristine, are you there? Happy now?) I've been using the excuse that I'm concentrating on my "real writing." I'm up to page 105 in my WIP, so I am making considerable progress.

May was a hectic month and June will be the same. My firstborn, Andy, graduated from Thiel College in the beginning of May, and he was off to his summer job at Prince William Forest Park in Virginia. My "baby," Josh, graduates from Shaler Area High School this coming Friday, June 9th. So between graduation announcements, picking a party date, getting Andy packed, reminding Josh that he doesn't have a summer job yet, consolidating school loans before the rate goes up July 1, etc., there hasn't been much time for anything else.

Things should settle down soon and I'll be able to keep my friends happy by updating my blog a little more often.

If I don't I'm sure I'll hear about it!

A Mother's Worth

2006-05-04T16:27:00.000-04:00

According to a study http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20060503/ts_nm/life_work_dc stay at home moms are worth $134,121 a year. Mothers who work outside the home should add $85,876 to their annual salary. The pressing question here is: Who's going to pay me and when am I'm going to get it?

Can we get congress to pass some kind of law? Don't other countries pay moms to stay home?

I was a stay at home mom for over fourteen years. When the boys were old enough, I took a part-time job, but my main job was still being "mom." It still is, even though the boys are now 18 and 21. A mother's job is never done. I'm proud to admit they still ask for my advice and usually heed it. I'll admit there were a few occasions when I wanted to quit, usually at 3am when one of them was sick and throwing up all over the place. The feeling always went away when they put their little arms around my neck and gave me a hug.

Mothers are a huge influence on their children. Both the boys respect me and respect women in general, and I like to think that had to do with their upbringing. Dads have a lot to do with that too. Kids need to see a good relationship between their parents to know how they are supposed to behave and relate to the opposite sex. When a parent is missing from a family, the kids miss out on that.

Kids should also have a healthy fear of their parents. There have to be boundaries and they must be enforced. I always knew I crossed the line when my mother said, "Joyce Ann." When she added the middle name, it wasn't a good sign. She also had "The Look" which could stop a truck. Fortunately, I've inherited "The Look." I haven't stopped any trucks, but it works well with the kids. Even in taekwondo class, my instructor liked to have me help out with rank testings because I could make the kids behave without saying a word. It's a good talent to have.

Enough of that. I'm off now to write my congressmen asking when I can expect my money. By my calculations they owe me over 2 million dollars. Do you think maybe "The Look" would work on them?

Life or Death

2006-04-27T07:39:00.000-04:00

I just caught the end of a news blurb on the radio that once again convinced me that our legal system is out of control. Apparently there's a convict on death row somewhere who is suing because his future lethal injection might cause pain if it wears off and he happens to wake up. Now, I give the guy credit for coming up with something so inane, but it boggles my mind that an actual court is considering this. What is wrong with these people??? The guy is on death row. He killed somebody. I doubt if he cared if he caused his victim pain. I don't care if he feels anything. If he's afraid of waking up, give him a double dose!

It amazes me almost as much as the Moussaoui jury still deliberating whether he should get life in prison or the death penalty. How much more evidence do they need? Not only do they have the cockpit recordings from Flight 93, they have him saying in his own words that he was glad and he hopes it happens again. Personally, I think lethal injection is too good for him.

Don't get me wrong. I don't believe in the death penalty for every case, but some crimes are so heinous that the perpetrator deserves to die. I did a lot of research on serial killers for my first book. Most of them deserve the death penalty. Anyone who murders a child deserves the death penalty. Most of these killers have no remorse and they'd do it again if they had the chance. They should never be given that opportunity.

Listening To Your Characters

2006-03-16T07:54:00.000-05:00

Looks like this writer hasn't been musing for awhile. Sorry about that! I have to say in my defense, however, I wrote a lot of pages in book #2 since my last post. I've also revised my outline and worked out a very interesting plot twist, thanks to certain characters telling me what they were up to!

I know that sounds weird to any non-writers who are reading this, but sometimes our characters don't behave the way we had planned. It's not like we hear voices or anything (well, most of us anyway), but our characters do "tell" us when they don't like something. They'll refuse to go any further until we listen to them. Most of the time, they're right.

I have one character who is an FBI agent. When he was interviewing my protagonist, she seemed to know he was up to something, even if this writer didn't. A couple of days ago I figured out what it was--hence the plot twist. Sometimes I hate it when the characters know more than I do! I've tried arguing with them, usually because I don't want to have to revise my outline. It doesn't work. I've found that if I fight them and refuse to change anything, they win anyway because the story sucks. They love to say, "Told you so!"

I've found that if you listen to your characters, they become three dimensional. No writer wants cookie-cutter characters, and no reader wants to read about them. If you box them in and don't let them loose once in awhile, the story becomes stiff and the characters unrealistic.

The other side to this is to not let the characters run amuck. If you let them revolt, every character wants to be the most important. Before you know it, they've taken over and your story becomes a mish-mash of unconnected subplots.

I guess it's kind of like raising children. You want each child to be an individual. You let them have some freedom, but there are still boundaries. Just like with children, you can't let your characters take over the household. You have to reign them in once in awhile.

Just don't spank your characters--unless that's what they want, of course.

Productivity and Laptops

2006-03-02T08:10:00.000-05:00

I bought a laptop. I know I'm a little behind the times--every writer has one, right? I could be so much more productive, squeeze in more writing time, get that &*^%$ second book written. At least that's what I told myself to justify the purchase.

You know what? I was right!

I've written ten pages so far this week. I know that doesn't sound like much--some writers I know average that many in a day. But for someone whose first forty pages took months to write, it's a big deal. I've been taking it to work with me every day and writing on my lunch hour. Every evening, after dinner is over, I clean up the kitchen and do whatever else needs done, then I plop my butt down on the couch and write. Before the laptop, I'd just plop my butt down--forget about writing anything. After spending all day at work at a desktop computer, the last thing I wanted to do at night was sit at another desk. It was a real struggle to get anything written.

I feel like a writer again. To top it off, I've gotten two requests from agents this week for Lost Summer, and a request for some articles for the PA Chiefs of Police magazine.

Maybe I'm on a roll. And all because I bought a laptop.

Oh, and did I mention the wonders of wireless internet? That'll have to be another post. I have to get back to Chapter 5--Chris is just about to be arrested for murder...

Playing It Safe

2006-02-16T09:23:00.000-05:00

My friend, Kristine's post about emotion in writing (see http://kristinecoblitz.blogspot.com/) got me thinking more about my own writing. Although I think I've succeeded for the most part in feeling (or showing) rather than telling, I still think I play it too safe.

I've been sending queries out for awhile for Lost Summer, and I've had a lot of requests for either chapters or the entire manuscript. One agent even did a line edit and gave me many suggestions to improve the book, but then when I sent it back after the revisions, she said she couldn't take it on after all. I've gotten all good rejections (if you can really call a rejection good). Every agent who's read the whole manuscript said that I'm an excellent writer and they love the character, but it just doesn't "do it" for them. They all want me to send them the next book.

I've come to the conclusion that my writing is too safe. Sure, there's a serial killer and dead bodies, and a realistic investigation, etc., but there's no "wow factor." Like Kristine, I avoid conflict in real life, and I think it shows in my writing. If I compare earlier drafts of Lost Summer to the latest, I've greatly increased conflict and tension, but maybe not enough.

I've been trying to read and analyze a lot of books over the last few weeks to see what it is that made them sell. Several, like Karin Slaughter's and M.J. Rose's books, it's obvious. Great writing combined with great characters and unique plots. A couple of books I tried to read were so poorly written (POV problems, stilted dialogue, etc.) I couldn't finish them. But even the bad books had that "wow factor." They had over-the-top plots and unique ideas that make for good sales. I think a lot of readers who aren't also writers just want a good story. They don't care if POV changes in the same paragraph.

So, where are am I going with this? I'm in search of that illusive "wow factor." I know it's here somewhere...

To Be or Not To Be...

2006-02-08T11:21:00.000-05:00

A writer.

When I didn’t get the job at Pitt last week, I realized I needed to decide what it was I wanted to do. When the Pitt interview came up out of the blue, I thought maybe that was where I was supposed to be. The pay was good, the benefits even better, and if they had offered me the job, I would have taken it. But it was not to be.

For awhile I wondered why, but yesterday it dawned on me. I’m a writer. I’m supposed to write. I’ve taken for granted the fact that I have a part-time job that gives me the time to pursue my God-given talent. I believe that everyone is born with some kind of talent, even if not everyone is fortunate enough to know what that talent is. It should not be wasted.

I have to admit I’ve gotten lazy about writing. It’s too easy to go home from work and put it off, finding other things to do. No more. It doesn’t take all evening to make dinner and throw a load of laundry in the washer or dryer. In between those things, I should be at the computer writing something. If I’m not working on my book, I should be drafting an article or short story, or doing research. Yesterday afternoon (at work, I might add), I found some magazines to pitch some articles. I even have an idea for a monthly column that I’m sure I wouldn’t have thought of if I hadn’t been turned down for the Pitt job.

I’m not saying that if another full-time job came up I wouldn’t explore it. I definitely would, but I’d leave the final decision up to the One Who Knows Best. Which, most certainly, is not me.