Wishing a Happy Halloween to one and all. Hey, we’re mystery writers, of course we love Halloween. I’m the witch, naturally 🙂
Bart J. Gilbertson, Deathbed & Breakfast (Pookotz Sisters Mysteries #1)
Jean Erhardt, Small Town Trouble: A Kim Claypoole Mystery
Kate Eileen Shannon, Social Insecurity (Brigid Kildare Mysteries #1)
Pamela Rose, Sherlock’s Home: The Adventure of the Contentious Crone
Robert Warr, The Barkers Dozen – Reminiscences of an Early Police Dog
Richard Forester, a retired CEO for a major software company, and his granddaughter Penny show up at the Pookotz Bed & Breakfast one evening and find themselves in some rather unpleasant company. All the guests somehow seem to be connected to Richard’s past and when he is found dead the next morning, everyone is suspect. However, there are a few wrinkles that the inn’s owners Edna and Mildred Pookotz need to iron out as the investigation unfolds. Not only was Richard deathly ill, but he was also accused of embezzling $750,000 which is still unaccounted for. The local Sheriff suspects that this victim’s death is not a natural one, so he–and the sisters–set forth to discover who the murderer is.
Meet Kim Claypoole, restaurateur, reluctant heroine and amateur sleuth with moxie galore. In Small Town Trouble, the first in a series from mystery writer Jean Erhardt, Claypoole’s adventure begins as she leaves her home in the Smoky Mountains to help save her mother Evelyn from financial disaster. Claypoole leaves in her wake her Gatlinburg doublewide, her restaurant, The Little Pigeon and her restaurant partner and sometimes best friend Mad Ted Weber as well as a budding secret love affair that’s hotter than an Eskimo in July. Claypoole’s savior complex leads to more trouble when she bumps into an old flame in her hometown who asks for her help clearing her hapless brother of murder charges. In true Claypoole fashion, she gets more than she bargained for when she gets dragged into a complicated quest to find the true killer complete with topless tavern dancers, small town cops, and a stream of backwater characters. Can Claypoole muddle her way through the murky depths of this bizarre murder mystery before it’s too late? With biting humor and wit, Small Town Trouble will leave you guessing what’s around the next corner in the quirky life of Kim Claypoole.
Brigid Kildare is not your typical hard boiled private eye. But she doesn’t pretend to be. No matrimonial. No child custody. No bodyguard or surveillance work. No process serving. Brigid is strictly data. Asset searches, background searches, computer security, pre-employment screening, and basically any type of records research is what she deals in. And you really could not expect anything else. After all, your average five foot tall, blue eyed, blond (one friend describes her as looking like a Christmas tree angel) is rarely the person you would send out after a bail jumper. Oh, and there is that whole one leg thing – ADA aside, most people don’t think of an amputee as the go to person for a security job. But in SOCIAL INSECURITY, the first in the Brigid Kildare Mystery Series, professional PI, Brigid Kildare, turns amateur sleuth when old ladies in the Federal Hill area of Providence start to go missing and she can’t get the police to believe her. As her assistant and long time friend, Kevin, puts it: “Honey, if an old lady like Jessica Fletcher can do it, a one-legged PI and her gay PA can do it too!” Brigid solves the mystery, along with an odd cast of friends and family, but not before four old ladies have died, she has caught the eye of a handsome Providence detective, and she discovers that not everyone who is close to her is what they appear to be
Life imitating art? That’s Finn Sherlock’s first bizarre thought when she stumbles across a dead body within the Civil War era hiding place inside Sherlock’s Home Mystery Bookstore. Thinking that it’s her gnome-like Uncle Oz costumed to play the part of a fortunetelling druid for ‘All Hallows’ Eve,’ she is relieved when she learns that the hooded figure is not her favorite uncle, but the town’s favorite outcast, Odds Bodkins. Unfortunately, murder suspects abound due to the fact that the mystery bookstore and its adjoining 221b Bakery were the first stop on the Leapers Point’ Halloween circuit and any number of people were on the scene for the annual ‘Fright Night’ tour. More than that, Odds Bodkins was almost universally detested; far too many would agree that the assisted demise of the loathsome little witch was more treat than trick…possibly even a community service. With a little help from Uncle Oz and her identical twin sister, Echo, Finn sets out to discover who amongst the congenial southern townsfolk had the audacity and plain bad manners to murder the contentious crone right under the Sherlock family noses. Was it the fire and brimstone preacher Willie Ping? ‘Blooming Idiots’ talented but slightly mental florist? Or what about fluffy nonagenarian Eula May Binks…can anybody really be that sugary sweet? But, when the local Sheriff, Wavy Davey, learns that it was Uncle Oz’s Halloween prop – a bona fide hangman’s noose – that was the murder weapon, there’s more heating up inside the 221b Bakery than just the ovens.
The detective got the praise, but the dog did the digging… The book consists of twelve linked stories that deal with the cases of Richard Thompson who is a Scotland Yard detective in Victorian Britain. Unlike the Sherlock Holmes type of story the hero is a member of the official police service. What gives these stories their special twist is that they are narrated by Snuffles, who is the Inspector’s Springer Spaniel. Snuffles is an extremely likeable narrator although he is quite arrogant in some of his opinions and has a tendency towards bad puns, he is, however, a dog it would be a pleasure to know. The location for these stories range from the foggy streets of Victorian London to grand country houses and crimes committed during country house weekends. The prejudice that existed between different classes forms a theme (uncomfortable to our modern views) that runs through the book giving it a true flavour of its period. Although Richard Thompson is a very good detective we learn that most of his cases are actually solved by Snuffles who interviews the animal witnesses. The dog is left with the problem of telling his master what he has learnt without revealing that he can talk. All I will say is that he is a most resourceful Spaniel. The book contains some great illustrations by Phillip Lee that hark back to pictures in The Strand Magazine that accompanied the Sherlock Holmes stories. This book gives interesting insights into Victorian society as well as being a great story in keeping with the cosy mysteries genre.
I’m not one of those bloggers who does product reviews or endorsements for money. I mean seriously, do people read them and believe them? I know I don’t, never even read them. Of course someone is going to say something good if you pay them to. But for all you readers who are writers, I am going to tell you about something I found and I love. I have no association with the company. They don’t know I am doing this. And if you buy it, I don’t make a penny. (If an ad happens to appear on the bottom of the post, I have no control over that since I have the free version of WordPress and sometimes an ad appears because of words in the post.)
Writers are always looking for something that makes their lives easier. The thing everyone raves about the most at the moment is Scrivener. I tried it. I don’t get it. I didn’t just get the free download, I bought it when they had it at half price on Amazon. I was going to take a class about it when a writers’ group offered it locally. But there was a blizzard and I missed out. I am no good at online tutorials. So maybe another class will come along and I will finally understand what everyone is raving about. Mind you, there are things about it I like. The corkboard and the index cards appeal to me. Because I have scenes occur to me or snippets of a conversation. When I am not actually sitting there writing. I used to jot them in a notebook. Or if in front of the computer, on a Post-it note on my desktop. Then I gather all those things together when I sit down to write. (I’m very disorganized. No nicely planned outlines here.) So using that one little part of Scrivener hardly made it worth my while. And it isn’t as easy as notes on paper.
But the creators of Scrivener, Literature and Latte, have a new product called Scapple. It is perfect for a scatterbrain like me and it was only $14.99. You get an idea and make a note. Another idea, another note. Some may connect and you draw a line between them. I have separate notes saved for each book. I can color code things. Everything about it appeals to me because it is just like when I took notes on paper:
It is perfect for nonlinear thinkers such as myself. And if I ever do learn to use Scrivener, I understand you can just drag your notes into it. But for now, I am very happy with Scapple. There is a free 30 day trial – I knew after one day that I wanted it. And that is 30 days of use, not 30 calendar days. Use it today, one day. Don’t use it again for a week, day two. So you’ve nothing to lose and plenty of time to try.
Of course I am still waiting to have a chip installed to capture my ideas and then download them when I need them!!!
Drum roll please…
My blog tour with Great Escapes Virtual Book Tours is done. I want to thank Lori Caswell who works so very hard putting these tours together. And thank you so much to all the tour hosts and to all the readers who followed the tour.
Since Price Waterhouse was unavailable, I put all the emails on slips of paper and had my husband do the draw. Some people commented at every stop which got them multiple entries.
I’ll have you know that bowl is a Charles Sharrod Partin original that the real Brigid Kildare, after whom the character was named, bought me for my birthday many moons ago. So nothing but the best was used for this drawing LOL
The five winners of a paperback copy of SOCIAL INSECURITY are:
Nancy Hill Bradford
You should all have your books within a couple of days. Thanks to everybody who participated and there is one more winner to announce…
The winner of my have a character named after you contest is:
Andrea will be appearing early on in MEDITATED MURDER when she steps forward to give Brigid and Earl the first clue. The real Andrea will receive a copy of SOCIAL INSECURITY and MEDITATED MURDER.
Congratulations to all, thanks for all the support and kind words.
Well my blog tour has one final stop tomorrow. It has been a fun experience but there is one blog the tour didn’t stop at, this one, my own. Which makes sense of course. I can’t exactly host myself. But I had a request. Seems Brigid Kildare has a few questions for me. So I decided to let her do it right here, today, before the tour ends. And at Brigid’s suggestion, the prize at this stop of my tour is different. One person who comments here today and enters this Rafflecopter giveaway will have a character named after them in MEDITATED MURDER. There’s no purchase necessary but if you haven’t already read SOCIAL INSECURITY, now would be a great time to order the book. MEDITATED MURDER is just about ready to come out, but thanks to the miracles of ‘Find’ and ‘Replace’, changing a character’s name won’t be difficult to do. I promise you won’t be the killer. Well, unless you want to be. But that is a pretty big role – and depending on who wins I might have to change not just the name but the sex. To get that part you would have to take a solemn oath, written in blood, to buy every book I ever write and give them all five star reviews on Amazon and Barnes & Noble and Goodreads! LOL
KATE: Alright, here we go, shoot Brigid – um wait, I didn’t mean that, you don’t have a gun with you, do you?
BRIGID: It would serve you right if I did. It’s not bad enough you are writing about me and invading my privacy, why did you make me seem so bossy?
KATE: I didn’t do that. I think you were born that way. Besides, I never said it. I just report the facts. I believe your father said it. And maybe a couple of other people.
BRIGID: Report? Facts? You are to reporting facts, what Miley Cyrus is to prudish behavior. Why are you writing about me anyway?
KATE: You’re interesting. You’ve done more than most people twice your age. And I actually like you. Not at this moment, of course. You are being pretty rude to me.
BRIGID: I’m rude? This from the person who crashed my wedding.
KATE: Well it would have been nice if you had invited me.
BRIGID: Well it would also have been nice of you not to put a wedding veil on a cow on the third book cover. If I had known you were going to do that, I would have called the gardaí to haul you out of the reception. Enough bickering. You seem to be stuck to me like a bur. Are you at least going to try to be honest and factual in all the stories?
KATE: Cross my heart. Besides, you are a fine one to talk about honesty. You lie about how tall you are. You say five foot two but you’re only five feet tall.
BRIGID: Really? Let’s keep my height out of this and talk about your honesty. SOCIAL INSECURITY took place in 2011. MEDITATED MURDER and DYING OVER SPILLED MILK took place in 2012. And NOT A RHODE ISLAND CLUE just happened and you aren’t even finished writing about it. But a little birdie told me you are already planning a fifth book, UNSAVORY SUPPER so you have to be just making that all up.
KATE: I have complete confidence that you will get into some mischief and if you don’t, at the very least, you will butt your nose into one of Earl’s cases. Besides, you let out a big secret on Dru’s blog the other day. Which gave me the idea for the title.
BRIGID: Secret? What are you talking about?
KATE: Oh, nothing. Feeling a bit pudgy lately?
BRIGID: Pudgy? Pudgy! First my height, now you are calling me fat? I am NOT fat. And if we are gonna get personal, what about that picture of you with the blond hair? Why don’t you show your gray hair? Huh? You know what, I can’t interview you. I am out of here.
KATE: Well, if that’s how you feel… OW! She didn’t need to slam the door so hard.
Maybe Brigid and I can get together for a civilized interview someday soon. Leave a comment below if you would like to have a character named after you and click on this link: Rafflecopter giveaway. Be sure to leave an email so I can contact you. And Brigid was right about the hair. That’s no secret, I’ve blogged about that. But since she brought it up, I’ll make the big reveal today since I’ve had a month and half to grow it somewhat.
Okay, it’s gray. And curly when it is short. But it won’t be short long – thankfully it grows like a weed. I mean I looked like I was just out of Marine boot camp back on July 11th. Now to get someone to take a decent picture to put up everywhere.
Don’t forget about the real tour, put on by the wonderful Lori at GREAT ESCAPES VIRTUAL BOOK TOURS. 5 autographed paperback books will be given away across the tour with the entry being simply leaving a comment. You still have time, links are below, the winners will be announced September 9th.
August 19 – Omnimystery News Guest Post
August 20 – Kaisy Daisy’s Corner Review & Guest Post
August 21 –Socrates’ Book Review Blog Guest Post
August 22 – Mommasez…Review
August 23 – readalot Review & Guest Post
August 25 – Chloe Gets A Clue Interview
August 26 – Dru’s Book Musings Guest Post
August 27 – Musings and Ramblings Review & Guest Post
August 28 –Melina’s Book Blog Guest Post
August 31 – Must Read Faster Review & Guest Post
September 1 – A Chick Who Reads Review & Guest Post
I came late to WaterFire, I was still in Ireland when it started and then I moved to Florida before Rhode Island, but there are people who live in Rhode Island who have never been there. That blows my mind. I mean you live in a state that has an award winning sculpture by artist Barnaby Evans, consisting of eighty bonfires on the three rivers of Downtown Providence, and you don’t go see it? Not even once? It is not just the fires. There’s the people watching, the entertainment, the food. It is fun. It is mystical. It is sensuous and mesmerizing. You can even take a ride along the river in a gondola for crying out loud, and since 1994 you haven’t had one free summer evening to go see this? All I can say is some people are barbarians.
I love WaterFire. My first year in Rhode Island, my son and I went to every single lighting. And I have been to many, many since. It has been the scene of both happy and sad events for me. And some funny events. I even got my third (and final) husband because of WaterFire.
Get the sad out of the way. I was newly arrived in Rhode Island. I had just gotten my Broker’s license. WaterFire can bring up great emotion. It suddenly hit me I was celebrating getting my license and the person I most wanted to share that with was my late daughter. I was overcome. I sank down into the gutter and started sobbing uncontrollably. My poor ten year old son was trying to comfort me. A couple came along and the man squatted down and tried to help me. He was so kind. Between him and my son, I got myself under control. But as kind as the man was, the woman was that much of a bitch. He saw someone in trouble. She saw a tanned blond in tight jeans and a skimpy top. Actually, maybe it was her got me under control. I was determined to get up and stop crying to show I was not the drunken slut she was loudly proclaiming me to be, right in front of my son. The bitch.
Now a funny story. I will not name him. But there is a certain person who has held elective office or other state appointment his entire adult life. He has a very large forehead. Very. Very. Keep in mind, I was newly arrived here. So one night my son and I are walking around and as we pass one of the VIP tents, this man comes out and invites me in for a drink. He was hitting on me. Now I am a master of putting such a man in his place. But I thought he had Down Syndrome. So I was kind. I was not able to extricate myself until someone who knew him came up to talk to him. I didn’t give it much thought until a few days later when I saw him on the news giving a press conference. Oh. My. God. Well, me and my big mouth, I made the mistake of telling the story in the office. Thirteen years later, I still hear the story every now and then.
Now the husband. (Who will be mad I am telling this.) When I met him, my husband was dating someone else. I was his dirty little secret, the bit on the side. Most of the people in the office knew. Or guessed. Some felt bad for me and tried to counsel me. I was too young for him. He was never going to leave her. And so on. But I was in love. Now the way my husband tells the story, he had decided on me. But here is the real story. We were not seen together in public except on business. But he decided to take me to WaterFire. I guess he figured it was dark and no one would see us. HA! I was magnificent. Tall. Size six. Tanned. Long blond hair. I wore a baby blue outfit. Full length form fitting skirt that was below the navel and a long sleeved but very form fitting cropped top. Now my husband is not a classically handsome man. But he has a presence. He is striking. He looks like a powerful man. Especially smoking his Churchill cigar, as he was. With his arm around my waist, looking out over the fires. We made a beautiful couple. I wish I had a picture of us that night. Or better yet, the film. Unbeknownst to us, a reporter thought we made a beautiful couple and was filming us. We were all over the news. Everybody saw it. Including the other girlfriend. We were married the following March.
A little BSP here. In my fourth book, Not A Rhode Island Clue, there will be a proposal on a gondola at WaterFire. There is a lighting tonight. If you are anywhere near Providence, go. WaterFire is an experience.
I tell stories. Well of course I do. I am a writer. But that is not what I mean. You could ask me anything. Say… a question about quantum physics, a topic I know nothing about, and I will look you in the eye and give you an answer, right off the top of my head, that will have you convinced I am an expert in the subject. When I first met my husband, he was quite impressed until he caught on. Now he thinks it is funny as all get out. But the really funny part is the person on the receiving end of my nonsense who believes it and, here’s the best part, repeats it. That is the victory. When your story has legs. That is when you know you are a good story teller. The only trick is to respond immediately and with an air of authority. For example, back in Ireland I was driving a visiting American around. We were travelling down a road that had a tall stone wall to our right and we had just passed a small road on our left when we came upon a very, very large half circle indentation in the wall. The visitor pointed to it and asked what that was all about. Now I could have said that there was a massive oak there a couple of hundred years ago and they built the wall around it. But what would be the fun in that? No one had ever asked me that question before. So there was no thought put into my answer. But immediately I responded, “Ah well now, that’s what we call ‘The Sherlock Turnaround’. See Sherlock’s Garage is down that little road we passed on the left. You get people racing down the road and they miss that turn off and this is a tough road to turn around. So old man Sherlock went to the farmer that owns that land and bought a chunk and pushed the wall back so people could make a u-turn. Some kids probably stole the sign.” The visitor muttered something like convenient or clever and I didn’t give it another thought. Until that night when I heard about ‘The Sherlock Turnaround’ in the pub! Victory!!!! Now I never lie. I am a very honest person. But as someone once said, an Irishman never let the truth stand in the way of a good story. I just tell stories when something comes over me. It’s probably some form of serious mental illness but I have fun with it.
Excuse me a moment… I had to wipe away a few tears. I’ve known it for a while now. I’ve flirted with the concept. But today I must accept it. I am old. Was it the finding of arthritis in yet another place? (Most recently my right hand – oh no! I type all day!) Was it the decision to go gray? (A process. First the $200 dye job to my long hair by a ‘hairdresser to the stars’. That didn’t hold – I had been dying it blond too many years. Then cutting my long hair to a short blond bob. Finally cutting it to the roots. New picture soon, when I don’t look like a new Marine recruit.) No. It wasn’t either of these things or one of the many other signs. It was a simple email from Galway. The Saw Doctors are taking a break from touring. They have been doing it for over twenty years. There has always been only two constants to The Saw Doctors. Davy Carton and Leo Moran. As Leo is going out on his own for the time being with Anthony Thistlethwaite doing small venues, it means only one thing. Davy is tired. And Davy is my age.
I have loved The Saw Doctors from the beginning, back in 1986. They had it all. A true Irish rock and roll band with a sound like no one else. Sure, U2 made the world realize we were not all Tura Lura Lura or Whack for the tura lura laddy, but The Saw Doctors were pure West of Ireland culchie, wild and crazy, rock and roll. They had the added benefit of making the Catholic church mad when they sang about a boy in church watching a girl for ‘the glory of her ass’. You can hear me humming N17 when I am dreaming of getting the hell out of here and wondering why I ever left Ireland. Or The Green and Red of Mayo. I could not begin to name a favorite song. Every single one has been relevant to me and my life.
Davy was my age but I had a special fondness for Leo as his Da was my bank manager back in Ballaghaderreen. They took the stage, back in the very early days, on Honda 50s (although it was Seamus Moore who sang about the Honda 50). The preferred culchie method of transportation – along with the ubiquitous Red Cortina (which they wrote a song about). I was even inspired to paint a picture, Honda 50.
A Saw Doctor concert was always a unique kind of event. I will never forget the first time I dragged my husband, kicking and screaming, to his first one at The Melody Tent on Cape Cod. There he was, 15 years older than me and Lebanese with no love for anything Irish. Other than me. Dressed in his expensive slacks, polo, and Italian leather loafers. Absolutely determined to be miserable and make me remember the things he did to make me happy. The Saw Doctors took the stage and everyone in the audience, except one man in a wheelchair, rose to their feet and never sat down again. You sing along, you dance in the aisle, you jump around madly, but you never sit down at a Saw Doctor concert. And my husband was right there with everyone else. As we crossed the road after, to the hotel, his one comment was, “I’m wearing sneakers next year.” And he did. Last year as I soaked in the Jacuzzi, post concert, trying to silence the ache in every bone and muscle, he said it was his last one. He was too old for it. Of course I planned to beg and plead and in the end convince him to go again this year. But there will be no Melody Tent this year. Seems Davy is too old as well. Which means so am I. So excuse my tears, I am mourning the passing of my youth. Lets hope Davy gets a second wind so I get my youth back!!
The email follows. If you have a local venue that Leo and Anto could play, get in touch with Amanda, her email is below. You won’t regret it. Some great music and story telling for all.
Greetings from Galway. I suppose at this stage you know
that The Saw Doctors are on a break from gigging and as a
result there won’t be any more live shows this year.
The current break is The Saw Doctors first rest from
touring and recording in over twenty years of non-stop
gigging all over the world. I’m sorry to say there will be no
Melody Tent shows in Cape Cod or any US tour dates
But now some good news. With The Saw Doctors on
sabbatical, two band members Leo Moran and
Anthony Thistlethwaite, have booked a US tour from
mid-September to mid-October, playing small venues
such as The Tin Angel in Philadelphia and some intimate
The Fall US Tour will be advertised as ‘Leo & Anto’ and
the two lads will perform as an acoustic duo for the full show.
The start date for the Tour is September 20 and there
are still a few dates left to be filled in the month long US
If you would like to host a House concert with Leo & Anto,
please email me with a proposal including a date, venue,
and capacity of room. firstname.lastname@example.org
Leo will sing some Saw Doctors songs such as Clare Island
and Same Oul’ Town as well as some new songs he has
been working on with Padraig Stevens such as Rossport
Five. Anto will sing songs from his days in The Waterboys,
including Strange Boat and Fisherman’s Blues.
Leo & Anto will tell some stories from their twenty odd
years of touring the world with The Saw Doctors and The
Waterboys – Anto will share his experiences of working
with Bob Dylan, Donovan and Mick Taylor of The Rolling
I’m rushing now as the sun has come out again here in Galway –
I promise to update you soon again with more news and gossip
– the boss Jennings has big plans to launch a new Saw Doctors
website in the coming weeks and wait for it…..he says that there
will be new Tshirts for sale and loads of special offers on
CD’s, DVD’s, etc. Meantime, there’s always a bit of craic and
Saw Doctors music on the bands Facebook page.
This is just a random, odd post. About me. Not what I am reading or what I am cooking. Just me. And how really weird I am.
I love maps. Back in the day, I had loads of paper maps. Road maps for places I had been and places I would never go. And I love a nice big hard bound atlas. And globes. I have even progressed with the times. I am very into GIS (geographic information system). I can use ArcGIS as well as, if not better than, people with degrees in using it. I have used it to manage every plat and lot in a fairly large city. Or I can go old school and look at an old metes and bounds description, get out my pencil and Staedtler Drafting Kit, and accurately map it out.
What is so weird about this, you may well ask. Lot’s of people can do this. Love maps and mapping. Well, I’ll tell you. I have lived in my current tiny city for almost thirteen years. I still sometimes get lost going to the grocery store. Less than a mile away. Only one or two turns to take to get there. The city I managed to map out so well? That I went to school in and know like the back of my hand, on paper at least? I once went to a place there, or tried to, that I had been to at least a dozen times before and ended up lost, several cities away. On one trip to Nantucket, a place I have been many times, I got an entire group of people lost. Walking from the boat. To the hotel you could clearly see from the boat. How? I found a map on the boat. And I love maps. And I decided to use it. To get to the hotel that you could clearly see and just walk towards. My husband didn’t say anything. Because he had noticed what I hadn’t – and was amused. A large number of people were following me. Because I had a map and looked like I knew what I was doing. I always do things with authority and confidence. Even when I have no clue. They really should have caught on. Like when I stood on that corner and said, “This map is upside down.” Or further on, when I looked up at the street sign and said, “This street isn’t supposed to be here.” But they kept following me. After I had gone many blocks away from the hotel, my husband took pity on the fools following me. Some were old and they were all hauling luggage. He took my map away from me, turned us a full 180°, at which point I discovered I was leading a group, and headed us to the hotel. He has dined out on this story for several years now. Well… this and others. Let’s just say, I provide him with a lot of material.
Intersting post and question. My response? I don’t want to be famous. My biggest fear is someone will actually read my writing. Seriously. I write for myself, because I want to. Maybe it is because of the whole publishing thing and the fact I am also a painter. With a painting, only one person on the planet has to like it, even if the one person is yourself sometimes, and the painting is a sucess. With a book it is different. A lot of people have to like it for it to be a success. Which means a lot of people won’t like it. The downside of success and fame and writing and publishing.
So how do YOU feel about it? Do you want to be famous in whatever field you are in? Do you think it is a good thing? Or are the negatives so great you are happy with obscurity?