Dazed and Confused

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY

First tomato of 2009*

Oh, wow!  My first tomato of the season.  This is from the celebrity "vines."  I have a bunch of flowers, but so far only this one little tomato, which is about the size of my thumbnail.  But hey, they have to start small before they get bigger, right?

The heirloom "seedlings" took an awful hit with the hail storm last week, and I did lose one.  The others are holding their own, but seem to be a bit soggy from all the rain.  (They and everyone else.)  But, hey, if I get just one tomato from that batch, I'll be ... well, not happy, but I'll accept it.  (And it better be good for all the angst I've gone through.)

* No sooner did I type this, than hubby called me out to show me two more. (On different plants.)  Yee-ha!  I see many BLTs in my future.

PET PEEVE THURSDAY--"How's the Book Doing?"

Today's guest is Jeffrey Cohen, author of the Double Feature Mysteries.

"How's the book doing?"

People ask you this all the time when you've gone miles out of your way to let them know you have a new book coming out, or just out.  They're showing interest in your work, your welfare, your career. It's a very kind gesture on their part.

It drives me nuts.

See, I pride myself on my conversation. I like to be thought of as witty or at least interesting when I'm talking with or to other people. And a question like that--"How's the book doing?"--leaves me at a complete loss for an adequate answer. I've tried things like, "How's the book doing WHAT?" or "The book's just fine, and it was asking about you," but the fact is, I really don't know what to say when friends, acquaintances or perfect strangers drop that particular question in my lap.

How's the book doing? The fact is, I haven't a clue. I can look at the Amazon sales numbers, which are at once depressing and meaningless. I can gauge the number of reviews or mentions when I Google the book's title (and any author who says they don't is LYING!). I can count up the emails I get from readers or visitors to my web site (http://jeffcohenbooks.com). But assuming that the question "how's the book doing" refers to sales figures, it will be months before I have an answer. Publishers don't call we aspiring mid-listers with regular reports unless something highly unexpected (like people buying a lot of books) happens. We wait for accounting reports, which come months after the book is published, and even then, have to be read to me over the phone by my agent, because I don't understand one single digit listed on the page.

So when me meet, believe me, I appreciate your interest in my book. I honestly do. I'll talk to you for hours about my book if you don't shut me up, and I'll think you're a wonderful person for indulging my 
ego so selflessly. But please---PLEASE--don't ask me how the book's doing.

I really don't know.

And what's bugging YOU today?
----------------------------------------------
Jeff Cohen is the author of the Double Feature Mystery series.  His current book, A Night At The Operation, is third in the series and now available.  Check out Jeff's website.  Jeff also blogs on Mondays at Hey,There's A Dead Guy In The Living Room (Mystery Publishing from Idea to Bookshelf).

Summer fun

We had a terrible thunderstorm with hail last Friday, which I wrote about in yesterday's Writers Plot post.  (You can find it here.) The garden suffered a LOT of damage and we were pretty upset about it.

So on Saturday, when I started out on my weekly Garage Sale Hunt, I wanted to find something fun to cheer me up.

I did.

As I walked back to the car with my wonderful find, my husband commented, "These are the things that cause divorces."

Okay, so a pink flamingo is a cliche (and this one is so pink it's almost purple), but after the angst we went through over the garden (which is bouncing back, thank goodness).  I wanted.  I needed it.  And at 75 cents -- what a bargain!

Fred--annoyed

This is Fred.  It's not the nicest picture of him.  He was quite annoyed at the time.  See, Fred likes to chill in his carrier.  We think this is amusing.  I mean, we've never had a cat who actually LIKED  being in a pet carrier.  Fred is NOT like most cats.

As a matter of fact, Fred was a rescue cat.  He and his brother, George, were in a cage at PetSmart for THIRTY-NINE WEEKS before we brought him home.  Technically, he should be a basket case.  He's not.  He's quite a mellow cat, and extremely affectionate. 

But don't mess with him when he's snoozing in his carrier. 

PET PEEVE THURSDAY--Peony Wars

Today's guest is Mary Jane Maffini, author of the Charlotte Adams (professional organizer) mystery series.

Perhaps it was the climate, but I never so much as spotted a peony when I was growing up in Nova Scotia. The first time I saw them, I was a young teacher and a tiny girl in first grade brought me a bunch of delightful deep pink beauties for my desk in June. I was struck, no, make that besotted, and possibly even bewitched, bothered, and bewildered. Of course it was years before I had a garden of my own but when I did, whammo, in went peonies. New ones, heritage varieties, pale pink, white, deep fuchsia, you get the picture. They need to be planted just so, not too deep, not too shallow. They need sun; they need ants. Whatever it takes, I said, I'll do it. I had to have them.

And how did my darlings repay me? Well, let me tell you. Peonies usually bloom in early June in Zone 4 which is where my Ottawa peonies are. They allegedly continue flowering for several weeks.  For years I had jobs that required me to be at conferences for a week every June, although never the same week. For nearly a month I would watch the buds grow, flourish and bulge. Then just as I would be heading out the door to fly off to the Canadian Library Association conference, or the Special Libraries Association gathering, or the Canadian Booksellers Association educational sessions and trade show, I could almost hear the sproinging sound of petals bursting open. Perhaps there would be a tantalizing glimpse of a half-opened bloom.  Then my taxi would zoom down the street and I'd be gone.  I'd return to find millions of white, pale pink and deep fuschia petals lying inches deep on the ground and the spent plants gasping and ready to pack it up until the next year.

But now I work at home, allegedly writing. My conferences are in May except for Bloody Words one weekend in early June. My peony problem should be well in the past. But no. Not so fast. This year I headed out to Book Expo America secure in the knowledge that the peonies were not ready. Bloody Words followed the next week and they were just gearing up. I rubbed my hands in glee. This was going to be the best crop ever! Hundreds of buds all looking vigorous. And I was home, happily writing in my little office with plenty of time to enjoy them, taking a cup of coffee in the morning, and promenading by proudly.

The little scamps must have been playing games with my head. As I finally left for a family road trip in the third week of June, long after the peonies should have flowered, the blooms were getting ready to pop. One had unfurled in a provocative, even seductive manner. Maybe they can hold off until I get home, I thought, seeing as they are already well past their normal blooming pattern. Anything is possible.

Three days after I left, I called my husband who was watching the fort, which includes my tiny garden. "Please check the peonies," I said.

"The what?" 

"Peonies," I repeated, jaw clenched.

Long pause. "Are they the ones with the big beautiful flowers?"

"Yes."

"They're blooming, all right. There are hundreds of them. They're gorgeous."

"Huh."

I'll be home a week from today and once again will get to see a zillion petals on the ground.  Why do they do it? And how do they know?

"Take a photo please," I sniffed, "and email it to me. At least I can get to see them that way."

"But you have the digital camera with you," he pointed out.

True. Too true.

I think it's all part of the great peony plot. These flowers are not to be trusted.

Am I peevish? No kidding. I may be defeated, but it's not too late to plan for next year. This time, trust me, peonies, this means war.

And what's bugging YOU today?
---------------------------------------
When not staring morosely at her peonies, Mary Jane Maffini writes the Charlotte Adams mysteries, the Camilla MacPhee series and the Fiona Silk adventures.  Visit Mary Jane's Web site.  her at . Her latest book is Death Loves a Messy Desk. Check out her latest book trailer here.

Me and my laptop

It's a long boring story about how I got my laptop.  (So just pretend you already slept through that one.)  I didn't want a laptop.  When I got the thing, I didn't like it.  It has a very bad habit that annoys me.  I'll be typing along and suddenly the cursor jumps up to another line.  No warning--there you are typing your latest thought in the middle of some other sentence.  I've gotten so I read along as I type, just to make sure I'm still where I'm supposed to be.

But for the past year, I haven't been able to write in my office.  It's become goof-off central.  Oh, I can do blogs, write e-mails, and work on promotion, but I can't seem to work on my books.  Hello!  That's my job.  I'm supposed to report to the office every day and produce literature (or at least have a whack at it).  But it hasn't worked out that way.

When the deadline was getting tight, I decided one day to take the hated laptop to the dining room table and see what happened.  At first, I didn't log into the Internet for fear I'd just make the dining room a goof-off annex, but it hasn't worked out that way.  I have a boom box, so I've got music, and I have access to mail, and Tweetdeck, and Facebook, and, most importantly, GOOGLE.  I didn't realize how much I depended on Google for research until I decided not to use the Internet in the dining room.  (That lasted about a week.)

The current manuscript is going pretty well.  (They never seem to gel for me until I get close to the 50,000 word mark.)  I'm still seriously short on word count, but June has been good to me.  Of course, I have two more books to write in the next nine months, so I'm really sweating it.  But buckling down and concentrating on getting my daily word count (which I often miss), is good.  I feel like the little engine that could.  If I get something substantial done at least five days a week, I feel fairly good about it.  (And if I exceed my word count, I'm absolutely ecstatic.)

Oops--just looked at the clock.  Time to fire up the laptop and get back to work.

CROP UPDATE

Things are growing quite well at Casa de Lorraine.  So far, the bunnies haven't eaten more than eight or nine of the beans.  I've been putting cayenne pepper on the leaves, and that seems to be deterring them, and yesterday we put granular blood pellets down, which is supposed to deter them, too.  In this picture, you can see the beans and almost see one that was bunny-bitten.  (Bottom Middle.)

To hedge my bets, I planted beans in the ground, but also in a big container.  So far, the container beans are outperforming those in the ground.  Go figure.  I figure they're going to start climbing before the end of the week. 

Now here's a potential problem.  What if I have a bumper crop of beans this year?  I planted them here at home and at our family's cottage.  I LOVE fresh green beans and could eat them every day.  Hubby isn't quite as enthusiastic.  My luck at freezing them has been hit and miss.  I seem to blanch them too long, and then they're mushy when you go to cook them for dinner.  (Anyone want to give some advice?)

We had a LOT of rain last week, and the potatoes said, "WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" and really took off.  I'm using new dirt this year (again, growing them in a container), and they seem a lot happier than their predecessors.  I'm hoping to have a bumber crop this year.  (Past years haven't yielded more than two meals.)

The broccoli and Brussels Sprouts have been happy with the rain, too.  Likewise the tomatoes.  And already my parsley has gone to seed, which is telling me to get off my butt and pick it.  (Meanwhile, I've been nipping it--hoping it'll bush out.)

This is the first year I've grown lettuce, and again, to hedge my bets, I did it in a little container.  I'm hoping we'll be eating fresh lettuce by the end of the week. That pot on the bottom contains one of my heirloom tomato "seedlings."  I had them in little containers and decided last week they were big enough to have their own pots.  (Actually, there's two in this pot--I ran out of pots.)  They're doing well, albeit late, and I'm hoping to have at least a few purple and green tomatoes before the frost.

I love going out in the garden and seeing my crops doing well, and I don't even mind weeding.  (Still have some mulching to do in the flower beds.) 

Who knew gardening could be so much back-breaking fun.

Where's my book?

I don't know about you, but I take a book with me wherever I go.  You never know if you're going to get stuck in traffic, or have to wait in the car while hubby runs in the store to get a bag of ice -- or something like that.  Rather than being bored, carrying a book with you means you have your entertainment at your fingertips 24/7.

Until you leave your book someplace you can't get back to for a few days.

I visited a friend over the weekend, and of course I took my current read with me.  (All Mortal Flesh by Julia Spencer-Fleming.)  Wow--I'm really enjoying this book (which is the 5th in the series).  But things were rushed at the last minute.  Not only did I forget the book, but I forgot my hat.  I have three of them, so I can live without it for a week.  But I WANT MY BOOK!  I want to know what happens with Clare and Russ.  I want to know who murdered Russ's wife.  I was halfway through the book, and intended to finish the book in one BIG read so I can jump into Julia's next book, already sitting at the top of my TO BE READ pile.  (I shall Not Want.)

But nooooooo!  I had to leave it behind on the countertop.  Why didn't I put the book with my purse?  I had to have my purse to leave.  That's where I keep my car keys.  But nooooooooo! It was on the countertop and my purse was on the couch.

The book will still be there when I return this weekend.  But I want to read it NOW.

(Does that ever happen to you?)

WEEKEND GETAWAY . . .

We saw this little getaway at a sale in an RV camp last weekend.  Don't you just love the palm trees?  (Bet the one on the left is cute at night.  Okay, I admit it. We have two of them.)

And here's a better view of the little sign directing you to Margaritaville.  (All that's missing is a couple of pink flamingos.)

Have a GREAT weekend!