Tag Archives: Whatchamacallit? Thingamajig?

Granny’s (Hermiony Vidalia Criony Fiddlestadt) How-To Books

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Granny_BA Note From Granny (Hermiony Vidalia Criony Fiddlestadt): I thought I needed to write a how-to book about something. I read and buy how-to books. How-to books seem to be the ones on the best seller list and the writers seem to be making mega millions and then I realized—I already wrote a how-to book. How to Hook A Crook, How To Skewer A Scoundrel and How to Snow A Sneak. My next how-to book will be out soon and I will teach you How To Fork A Fugitive. If you would like to learn how to do all of these things, here is the instruction how –to find them. Click on the link, quick as a wink, before you can blink, Granny’s how-to will bring you to the brink. Granny’s How-To-Books

 

The Good Old Days? Are They Gone?

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lemonadeI can’t believe I am still here after growing up in the ’50s and ’60s. I can’t believe my children made it through their childhood.

After all, we had lemonade stands, drank from neighborhood lemonade stands, had many meals at church and community potlucks, ate pie from church pie stands at celebrations, stayed out after dark, were left home alone starting at age 10 or 12, played with tin toys, didn’t have car seats or seat belts and I probably could name many more things we did that you can’t do today without getting in trouble. Although, if we did get in trouble the people who saw our actions probably called our parents, and that was more trouble than a policeman being called.

The news the past few weeks has baffled me. First was the lemonade stand in a large city. The kids had to shut down their neighborhood lemonade stand because they didn’t have a permit. The permit cost $150. Really — a kid’s lemonade stand needs a permit like that? I don’t believe my community got on the bandwagon for lemonade stand permits. At least, I hope not.

Then there was the case of the family building a new house and camping out in tents on their land for the summer, who had their kids taken away from them because they did not have running water or bathrooms or electricity. I visited my grandmother when I was small and they didn’t have running water or bathrooms or electricity. I guess they were neglecting me too. They seemed to survive pretty good and so did I, I learned about Outhouses. There are camping grounds that don’t have water or electricity. What about those families who vacation at a campground for a couple of weeks? Are they neglecting their kids?

What about the 11-year-old whose parents also got in trouble because they weren’t home when their son came home?  The son, locked  out of the house for 90 minutes,  decided to wait for his parents and shoot a few hoops in the backyard. The authorities said he was without emergency services, food and water because of being  out of the house. Really?

In the back ages, my growing time, kids were babysitting at the age of 11, and it wasn’t unusual for kids to stay home by themselves. Other parents have left their kids to play alone at the park, and that apparently isn’t done now either.

My church used to have a pie stand at our local community celebration. Ladies from the church baked pies and everyone devoured them. The pies are now prepared in a commercially licensed kitchen or made by a commercial company.  Many communities and churches have also stopped potlucks because of regulations.

My granddaughter, living in a larger city, wanted to have a lemonade and cupcake stand this summer. They too ran up against permit fees.

Homeowners back in the old ages didn’t have to check to see if what they planted or built on their lawns met code or was up to HOA standards. Next-door neighbors talked to each other, and most of the time it was live or let live.

Every day I read of something that boggles my mind.  Today it was the patio of a restaurant in a nearby community, closed down for a time, because it didn’t have enough live plants. The business broke the rules of the city. Of course we want a safe world, but are we carrying things a little too far?

I am  thankful I grew up in the ’50s and ’60s when summer months meant lemonade stands and long bike rides, playing kick the can after dark, and camping out in the yard where we could meander to others yards to meet with those friends that were camping out too.

I am thankful for all the potlucks and good food I was able to eat at community and church dinners and picnics in the park.

I am thankful for the freedom to stay at home by myself in my younger years. I am thankful  I could explore barns and feed the chickens on our place that was on the edge of town. The place is still there but no one would be allowed to raise chickens, let alone have a pony in the barns that close to town.

I am thankful  the church doors were open day and night allowing us to visit when needing comfort. I am thankful for school doors always being open during the day and the fact we didn’t have to fear violence in school.

I am thankful we could write our own plays and talent shows and perform in garages and charge admission and serve cupcakes.

I am thankful I was a child of the ’50s and the ’60s when life was less restricted and we could experience life with less restrictions, life our children and grandchildren will never know today. Life wasn’t always easy but it was simpler. Yes, the good old days — when kids would be kids, parents could parent and city governments weren’t worried about regulating lemonade stands

The Easy Life of an Author

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I want this hat.

I want this hat.

Who would think the life of a writer would cause aches and pains all over one’s body? My fingers are moving slowly over my keyboard this morning because I have spent 12 to 14 hours at my computer the last few days finishing my next book.

When I am in finish mode I barely notice anything that is happening around me. In fact, when I took a break to stretch I noticed my house was empty of the man I share my life with. I checked all the rooms, peeked out the window and could see that he was not in the yard or in the garage. I vaguely remembered that he might have said something to me while I was concentrating. I had to call to see where he was and what I had missed when he was telling me where he was going.

I am a small cog in a big wheel of authors. Being a small cog does not diminish the work it takes to write a book, edit what I wrote and get it off to my publisher. Once it is at the publisher you might think that the work is done, but it is only the beginning.

When I am in finish mode it means that I neglected writing this column, writing my blog, my Facebook page, my Twitter page and promotion for my other books. It means I neglected the calls from friends and preparing for the time I need to spend at writer’s meetings and book fairs. Also there will be more edits for the book sent to the publisher as they read it and offer suggestions on how to make it better, since I am comma challenged.

My author friends work long hours and into the night so they can create and weave their stories. As much as we love what we do there is stress involved with deadlines and expectations. If our first books were a success, can our new ones measure up to what our reader’s expect? Usually authors work on more than one project at a time.

Recently I have been working with a graphic artist who is creating a Granny image for my publishing company that is all ours. Add to the fact that my books will soon be out in audio. To make that happen there were interviews with a producer to find the right person to project the image of my books.

As I wait for the new book to come out I must work on either taking the time myself to create a book trailer or finding someone to create my vision.

Authors write because for them it is breath. It is the same way for me. Authors, unless you are very famous, do not make a great deal of money. On any month it is feast or famine, but authors write because they like to tell the story.

We go on blog tours; we have our own touring company that sets up the tours. We visit book stores and sign books. We speak at libraries, churches and wherever people love books.

Each author has his or her own way of getting a book to the stage where it is ready to send to their publisher. Some outline, and some wing it. Whatever works for each author still requires time and effort.

A blogger and reviewer that features the type of cozy mysteries that I write, recently had a reader chastise her because the reader thought what the blogger does is easy. The blogger let her readers know how much time it takes to promote, read and review to keep her blog fresh. What may look easy to an onlooker looks that way because it required a lot of work.

I love what I do but I have to write when the creativity spins in my mind. That may be at 4 a.m. after waking up from a dream. It may be at 10:30 p.m. when I can’t get to sleep because an idea forms in my mind. Or, it may be forcing myself to sit down at my computer every day for a little while; whether I feel like writing or not, hoping something that I write has a spark of creativity.

What I do, when I write, is no different than every man and woman who go to work every single day to put food on their table and make a living. It is another career just like the ones my readers have. It takes dedication and perseverance. It takes long work days to achieve the vision that is in our heads.

When you read a book by your favorite author, remember the work that it took to get that book on the shelf by authors, editors and publishers.

Authors love their readers, and in today’s world it is easier to get to know our readers on social media. The favorite parts of my job are meeting authors whose books I have read and being able to now call them my friends. It is meeting new friends and meeting my readers and finding out who they are and caring about them as people, not some number on a spreadsheet.

Perhaps a quote by Harlan Ellison says it best. “People on the outside think there’s something magical about writing, that you go up in the attic at midnight and cast the bones and come down in the morning with a story, but it isn’t like that. You sit in back of the typewriter and you work, and that’s all there is to it.”

It’s been fun taking a break, but it’s time to edit.