Today’s team review is from Noelle, she blogs here http://saylingaway.wordpress.com Noelle has been reading Bad Blood Will Out by William Savage This review is for Rosie’s Book Review Team. The book was purchased by the reviewer. Bad Blood Will Out is the fourth in the Ashmole Fox series of mysteries set in Georgian England. The protagonist […]
I was remembering when I learned to whistle and snap. These actions seemed to cross us over a special boundary of human muscle control. Children are captivated by someone snapping or whistling.
Have you watched a child try to snap? They imitate the action but the sound isn’t there, frustrating them in their efforts. They watch your fingers, then they watch their own but something isn’t working and they know it. I adore observing this process of physical learning. What is it that happens in their brain that figures out the dynamic of friction necessary to make that cool sound?
And a whistle? There are a few grown ups who still cannot whistle – astounding as that may seem to us natural whistlers. I can whistle the regular way. I also have my football game whistle, two fingers together and it makes everyone around me cover their ears.
Lauren Bacall said it best “just put your lips together and blow” and that made Humphrey Bogart her slave!! Just awesome the power of a whistle.
After potty training, learning to snap and whistle are huge steps in growing up – right up there with learning to read and write.
Can you whistle? Do you remember learning to snap?
I have music on my old fashioned stereo which will play the radio, CD’s and believe it or not cassettes tapes, and there are iTunes on my laptop. I don’t have iTunes on my phone because it is an android-yuck. You see I have to have music, especially to be creative. Another thing I do when I am sewing is to chromecast from my laptop to a TV in my work room. I can watch a netflix movie and know how much time I’ve spent on a project, or turn it to YouTube and autoplay one of the channels I follow.
I’ve always had a soundtrack for my life. Inspiration, motivation, interpretation, recall, prompting, all of those words I get from the sound of music I love, or stories I like to watch. It colors the thought process, and the feeling of my creative surroundings.
Today the wind is blowing, the air is cool, the sky changes from clear blue with wispy clouds to a spreading overcast that changes the color of the mountains. It is a classical music day. Hayden I think, maybe Debussy later. I am glad for the solitary time I have at this moment to do some important research for my historical work. I’m looking for books or text written during 1868-1870 to get a feel for language and customs that dominated interpersonal relationships. How would a single young woman write to a young man she has know for her life, but now the relationship is starting to evolve?
I welcome suggestions as I sip my wine.
Here is an update on my historical story.
I wrote this on my Facebook Author page www.facebook.com/NancyTurnerVaughn/
One aspect of this page that I prefer over my personal page is the lack of political messages and posts. My current historical work touches on the political climate post civil war, when the west was opened up for migration from the east by people who were looking to settle the lands in the west. This presented the situation of conflict with the indigenous population and the people looking for a new life. It could have been done so much differently.
I was watching a program about the Norman conquest of the Saxons in the 11th century. The French speaking Normans found the people to be backward, and some parts savage. They forced language on the population, expected them to conform to the accepted religion, and essentially to become Normans. Within a few decades a transition began in the people and their rulers whereby the Saxon culture began to emerge from it’s oppression. The language, government, etc. melded with the established Norman regime and over centuries we have what is now the United Kingdom.
How could the USA have done this conquering better? My main characters finds he is at odds with the military attitude toward the indigenous people, and yet is brutally attacked by these same people because of what his uniform says about who he is. In my research, I found times where both sides retaliated first, rather than condescending to conversation. There were some like Cochise who were guardedly open to conversation with the invading forces, and Lt. Charles Gatewood who made earnest promises his government didn’t keep.
So here I go, delving into the past, to find the passion, courage, and healing for my character, Jude Tremaine in my story currently named “A Favor From A Lady.”
Yesterday was the “Big Game” for the NFL. I have to admit, as a football fan, the NFL has been a troubled platform for lots of fans and players. As a military kid, dad was Air Force, I have a strong patriotic heart. It’s true I was disheartened at the continued disrespect I saw, but this was not just in the NFL-it was everywhere.
It made me harken back to that time when we were on our way back to the US from the Philippines after my dad spent most of that tour in Phan Rhang, VietNam. We were told not to mention our dad serving in VN, and it was best not to mention our father was military. He was told not to wear his uniform on once he reached the shores US because of the strong and sometimes violent anti-military sentiment at that time.
1969 it was.
When I saw the protests of the players kneeling, the flag burning, and the things said about our military forces, it was Déjà vu. I felt my late father was being disrespected-again. His career in the Navy during World War II, and in the Air Force for Korea and Vietnam seemed to have no value or meaning to many of these humans who weren’t even around at that time.
So, yesterday I got a a bit of mine back.
I live outside of Tucson AZ, home of the University of Arizona Wildcats. My in-laws, my husband, and my daughter are all UA alum. I’ve worked there, and hubby currently works there.
If anyone was watching, the Wildcats had four ex-players in the game. Two for each team. It was splendid for me and for my dad’s memory. You see, for at least eight years my father volunteered his time to the UA football team for Coaches Larry Smith and Dick Tomey, as a time keeper for football practice, on the sidelines holding headset cables (before wireless,) and helping out with anything coaches, players, and trainers needed.
To see Nick Foles, Coach Dave Fipp, Rob Gronkowski, and Marquis Flowers playing in the Super Bowl would have brought my dad incredible joy. He would have been happy no matter who won, but I’m kinda thinking he would have liked Nick getting a Super Bowl ring, since Rob already had two. But just knowing some of his boys were playing, well lets just say there was cheering in heaven!
Everyone has their own opinion about the topic of what the flag means and why they protest. That is their right. But this is mine. I love my flag just like I love my country. I know history shows there was very bad and wonderfully good events. This is the point of keeping history, to be aware and make sure those mistakes are never made again.
While I’ve been working stories, especially fiction, the one thing I discovered is the complexity of character names. How do other people come up with names? Sometimes I’ve had a name from the start. In the case of my current story the main characters’ names have been in my head from the beginning. I also had several of the other background and ancillary characters with names I knew I wanted to use.
But this one guy. My main female’s ex-husband. What the crap is his name? Todd, Alec. Oh he’s dead, a jerk, and only referred to in past tense.
I’ve come up with those two names so far, but they just don’t strike me as the right one. All you writers out there. Where do you look for names? Do you have a proven method to find the one that works?
I am currently trying to blog, listening to classical music and eating a sandwich while trying to keep the cat from my food.
So let me know the way you find the best name for a fictional human.
I’m having such a good writing day working on the first draft of my new story. These people are so real to me. So I wanted to share a scene from the new book Anchor Bay –
Tom sat in his recliner watching basketball, holding his second beer. His mind was not on the game but on a beautiful red head with lips he hoped were as soft as they looked. He was happily surprised when she accepted his invitation. She gave him her number when he dropped her at her house, and he smiled watching her shapely form walk toward the front door. She opened the door, turned to him, offering a quick wave and went inside. He had just sat in the cruiser for a few minutes enjoying the newness of attraction before heading home.
“Oh damn!” he swore when the realization hit he had just broken his own rule of not dating a local. He would have to take her somewhere close but not in Anchor Bay. Maybe she wouldn’t mind a drive down the coast to Ogunquit. Some good eating down there. Barnacle Billy’s had good food and drinks, yeah that’s where they would go. Still, there might be Bay folks there. What were the odds? He jumped when his landline rang.
“Sheriff Chambers,” he said, his voice sharp.
“What did I tell you about calling this line, Barb? It’s for work.”
“Oh, Tommy don’t be that way,” she whined. “I need to stay with you tonight. My car broke down at Willies and Tony won’t come get me.”
“Call a cab.”
“You can’t stay here. Impossible!” He insisted.
“Wait…okay here,” she was obviously talking to someone.
“Sheriff, get this woman out of here!” Willy Plum owner of Wet Willies shouted into the phone.
“Willy, what the hell is going on?”
“Damn woman is driving the paying customers away. She’s begging drinks, and well ya know how she is Tom.”
“Yeah I know. I’ll lock her up for the night. She can sleep it off and I will get her car fixed so she can leave.”
“Thanks man,” Willy said and then Barb was back on the phone.
“Tommy, don’t listen to him. He thinks just because he owns the place he can boss people, and…” Tom hung up on her, got his coat and weapon, grabbed the keys to the cruiser and took off for Wet Willies.
I’m very glad to share I have been writing again!
I sat down, opened the file, read what I had already written – I’ve done this before with no results – and when I reached the end of the text another line came to my mind, then another, and before I knew it 1000 words were knocked out and my mind was flying. It was bliss. I’ve since added more words, plotted the next couple of chapters, and fleshed out an important character I didn’t yet know very well.
This fed the creativity in my brain for the cosplay costume I am making. I was becoming so stale it was disconcerting and depressing. I can’t express how great it feels to get things moving once more. One thing I did discover is I need to ignore the distractions, specifically a person whose negativity is counterproductive. I shut the door, blast the Netflix or music and get busy writing and sewing. Woo hoo, it’s fun.
I spent four days in the LA area with my sister, Mary, and I think that started the brain cleansing. The laughing we did felt great. A good, long, loud belly laugh does wonders for the perspective. We spent hours at the ocean, we cruised down one canyon and up another listening to great music, singing, and remembering. Went to a wine tasting, had breakfast at Weiler’s-twice-and spent plenty of time with Melissa and Charlie (love kissing that boy.) Got a little too much sun. I felt young, bright, free, and adventurous. It was a perfect respite from the tension that flows from the negative person in my house.
I would have liked to have Chuck along but this was a girls trip. Next time!
The nights are cooling off, finally! The days are still too close to hell fire for me, but thank goodness for refrigeration and lots of fans to keep the air moving. My nephew is holding his own in Army basic, hubby is busy with his leather working, my kids are busy productive humans, and life is going on.
“There’s no such thing as too much magic, pixie dust, or fun.”
I’ve been on a blogging hiatus, primarily because I was struggling with inspiration for any kind of writing. The stresses of life hit me like a category five hurricane. Thoughts and ideas were destroyed like 200 mph winds throw around a metal shed, and rip off the roof. The next step in my story plot was washed away from my mind like the storm surge will swipe the surface of the ground away, debris lost to the tides. I have struggled, cried, complained, and spent quiet time in thought. Where can I start? Author Twist Phelan gave me a suggestion, to start with just a paragraph, so that is what I am doing. This is Nancy fighting back, rebuilding the house, pumping out the water, throwing away the ruined furniture, and repainting.
Last Saturday I held a farewell party for my nephew, Austin, who is leaving for Army basic training. He is actually my great nephew but I never make those distinctions. This party was important to me for a couple of reasons. The first is I was there when Austin was born. I helped his mom be calm through a difficult delivery. I watched as he was helped to take his first breaths, when he made his first cries, and when he peed on his dad.
Austin has always been important to me.
He has struggled with some poor life choices, let the wrong people influence him, dealt with abuse, and turned the corner to focus on a direction that is healthy, both physically and emotionally. He has found his spiritual voice giving him a strength to release detrimental humans in his life. I am incredibly proud of him.
The party was here at my house, in the “party yard” and was filled with family and friends who came to celebrate this step in his future.
The music was rocking, the kids were running, the drinks were flowing, the food was plentiful, the ice cream was homemade, and the cake was Army cammo.
Once the sun went down the bonfire was lit and the little ones were entertained by waving sparklers.
Austin represented third and fourth generations at the party – how cool is that! He was able to tease and chase his young cousins. He had cousins present who were older by a decade to as young as a year old. He had friends there who grew up with him. It was perfect.
I took a moment to share with everyone how proud I was of him and to give him a cheer.
It was fun. I think he was a bit surprised at the whole thing.
He will leave for basic training on October 2nd. But he will stay in our hearts and minds as he serves his country and makes us all proud! So I leave you with this special picture of Austin and I, and the party.
This is a Catalina AZ party!
I’ve never been a fan of rising early unless it was to catch a flight to Hawaii. I was always the kid that slept in on Saturday mornings. I always waited until the last moment to get out of bed to get ready for work. I loved lying abed.
However since my mom moved in I have found the early morning, all by myself with my coffee and my tablet, is treasure for my sanity. Hubby sleeps until 8 since he gets off work at 11pm and is home by midnight. It takes him an hour or so to slow his mind and decompress so he is usually in bed by 2am.
In my morning solitude I read, feed the birds and the dogs, and listen to the early sounds of the neighborhood waking. On weekdays this includes the sounds of school buses, the garbage trucks, and people leaving for work. I imagine myself sitting on a porch beside the ocean or a mountain lake, trekking through Paris searching for a meal or stopping in a pub in Ireland for conversation and laughter.
Sometimes my mind plans home improvement ideas and the standard “if I won the lottery” schemes. Occasionally mom and Chuck are up and moving around at the same time, but there are those days that my care giving doesn’t start until 8:30 or 9am. Those are wonderful mornings.