Jennifer Worrell's Blog: Jennifer Worrell...Reads

One of the great things about working in education is the two-week long break we receive as part of winter intersession (their words, not mine; wintersession was right there).

I planned to spend most of that time on big projects I kept putting off and writing a shit-ton of pages. Outside of a few meanderances between errand runs, or as part of a marketing blitz, I limited my social media use and turned on the news only once or twice, mostly to check the weather. Ignorance truly is bliss! I could pretend reality was some unreachable planet, or a fantasy land you could only visit by intense hugging.

In these trippin’-ass final days of the year, I’m unsure of the date, continuously surprised at how the passage of time works, and floating in a cookie-fueled daze. Without end-of-year lists to anchor me somewhat, the year behind would be a confusing, pointless slog.  Forget all that introspection nonsense, let’s look back on our escapist undertakings instead!  

I have to give critics their due; they can describe their feelings concisely in a way that makes you want to partake without giving away all the best parts. It’s especially hard to write about music in a way that puts the tune in readers’ heads without them hearing a note. 

Every year I vow to write a short little description/review of these titles, but I’m really bad at it, both the execution and the persistence.  You’ll just have to imagine I’m tugging on your sleeves and making a lot of excitable, unintelligble dolphin-like yelps while I stuff your arms full of media.

As usual, the caveats: I don’t include friends’ and colleagues’ works; everything is ranked based on personal preference, not “merit”; and I don’t reveal the worst experiences because that’s a shitty thing to do.  Consider these “recommendations”.

BOOKS!

Best Fiction - adult and YA

1.       The Final Revival of Opal & Nev: A Novel, Dawnie Walton

2.       Station Eleven, Emily St. John Mandel

3.       Lessons in Chemistry, Bonnie Garmus

4.       Shopgirl, Steve Martin

5.       TIE: The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store, James McBride and

Quichotte, Salman Rushdie

6.       Al Capone Does My Homework (Tales from Alcatraz, #3), Gennifer Choldenko

7.      The Loner, Ester Wier*

(*I read this in second grade and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Was it as gory as I remembered? Yes, yes it is.)

Fiction Honorable Mentions

1.       Honor, Thrity Umrigar

2.       A Man Called Ove, Fredrick Backman

3.       Starter Villain, John Scalzi

4.       This Book Betrays My Brother, Kagiso Lesego Molope

5.       Skellig, David Almond

6.       Suds in Your Eye (Suds, #1), Mary Lasswell

7.      Wasps in the Ice Cream, Tim McGregor

8.       Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, Judy Blume

9.       Deenie, Judy Blume

10.     Eeeee Eee Eeee, Tao Lin

Best Short Story Collections - adult and YA

1.       Best Horror of the Year, Volume Fourteen, edited by Ellen Datlow

2.       Red Ridin’ in the Hood: and Other Cuentos, Patricia Santos Marcantonio

3.       The Inhumans and Other Stories: A Selection of Bengali Science Fiction, edited by Bodhisattva Chattopadhyay

4.       The Trees Grew Because I Bled There: Collected Stories, Eric LaRocca

5.       NANO Fiction Volume 8 Number 2

6.       Robots Have No Tails, Henry Kuttner

Best Nonfiction and Memoir

1.       The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark, Carl Sagan

2.       The Wrong Way to Save Your Life: Essays, Megan Stielstra

3.       The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot

4.       Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation, Kristin Kobes DuMez

5.       This Is What It Sounds Like: What the Music You Love Says About You, Susan Rogers

6.       On Tyranny, Timothy Snyder

7.       Last Call: The Rise and Fall of Prohibition, Daniel Okrent

8.       Party of One: A Memoir in 21 Songs, Dave Holmes

9.       The Public Library: A Photographic Essay, Robert Dawson

10.   Gender Queer, Maia Kobabe

MOVIES & TELLY!

I keep switching the order of these. Ranking is always hard, even if you don’t take it super-seriously, but ohhhh Hitchcock is gonna be pissed if he sees this. Don’t tell him.

Best

1.     Odd Man Out** (1947)

2.     Crank (2006)

3.     Crash (1996)

4.     The Order (2024)

5.     Leap of Faith (1992)

6.     Heretic (2024)

7.     Hundreds of Beavers (2022)

8.     Roaring Twenties (1939)

9.     The Postman Always Rings Twice** (1946)

10.   Crumb Catcher (2023)

11.   American Fiction (2023)

12.   Kinds of Kindness (2024)

13.   Carry-On (2024)

14.   Brute Force** (1947)

Second Place

1.     S.O.B (1981)

2.     Cemetery Man (1994)

3.     Only God Forgives (2013)

4.     Never Open that Door** (1952)

5.     Faust (1926)

6.     Hardly a Criminal** (1949)

7.     TIE: Fistful of Dollars (1964) and For a Few Dollars More (1965)

8.     The Greatest Night in Pop (2024)

9.     TIE: The Bear, season 3 and Only Murders in the Building, season 4 (2024)

Recommendation of a Sort!  I Don’t Remember a Single Word! //jazz hands//

1.      Il Fuggiasco (2003). I listed it as a B+ in my spreadsheet. ??

**Seen as part of Noir City, Music Box, Chicago.

***For the style nerds: yes I know the movies should be in italics too, but it’s hard on the eyes.

MUSIC!

For reasons I can’t entirely explain, I went on an zealous li’l mission to borrow every CD from the library—including via interlibrary loan—to discover some “new” music.  I wondered: what the Barenaked Ladies have been up to since Stephen Page left? (Lots.) And why hadn’t I ever picked up an album by Dwight Yoakam? (A folly on my part, since he seems unable to record a lemon.)

Since I love making “mix tapes”, I added a playlist to my usual books and movies lists. And as with the books and movies, almost none of these tunes were released in 2024.  What can I say?  I’m too hip for trends, man.

There’s a total of 158 songs on this list, and that’s me being conservative. However, if you don’t like either BNL or Yoakam, your listening time will be reduced considerably.

Songs run from 1925 onward, comprising nearly 100 years of music. It’s pretty heavy on rock and country, but quite a few genres are represented, including Bulgarian folk music, dark humor, and a weird little ode to Coca-Cola. The last three are last on purpose, because the album is a masterpiece.

Note: some of the lyrics are profane and a few contain videos, so enjoy at your discretion and put on your headphones.

Any music recommendations to share? Not books. Please. For the love of beans. (My TBR list went UP from 833 to 1038 totally by magic.)

The Epilepsy Foundation is hosting a 26-Minute Reading Challenge in June as a way to raise money.  Twenty-six represents the 1 in 26 people who will develop epilepsy in their lifetime.  You can support me and other challengers by donating to the cause as we rack up the minutes.  

I’ve been a legal adult for just over twenty-six years (I needed a calculator for this, but the coincidental result is worth it) and you know what?  It’s not all that and a bag of chips as advertised.  The adults of my youth WAY oversold this nonsense.  The bills, the obligations, the various health nuisances, the slow decline into the great endless void (not to mention the many reasons to scream into it): what a crock, am I right?

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Ahhhh for the days of childhood freedoms.  Those three sweet months in which we actively deleted everything we learned in the previous nine.  

To keep our brains from turning into melted ice cream, grown-ups (librarians specifically, bless ’em) tricked us into learning by instituting the Summer Reading Challenge.  But we book nerds looked forward to it almost as much as the last day of school.

The 26-Minute Challenge brings that favorite back, with the added bonus of helping a nifty charity.  So please consider donating, or joining me, or sharing...or better yet, all three of these things.  I’ll be posting my progress every day on Twitter and Facebook, and you can follow me on Goodreads to see what’s on my current TBR list.

In 2007, my mother-in-law, a mutual puzzle lover and experienced cat roommate, knew with the recent adoption of our new overlord, my tidy puzzle-solving days were over.  That Christmas, she gave me a jigsaw mat to rectify the issue, along with a photomosaic puzzle of Bart Simpson writing on the blackboard.  For those unfamiliar with photomosaics, they’re made up of teeny weeny images grouped together by color theme.  The pattern doesn’t necessarily repeat and the characters are so miniscule you need to analyze each piece to determine which way is up.  Every correctly placed piece earns a bigger huzzah than a traditional puzzle.

After completing most of the frame, I rolled this project up inside the mat, placed it on a high shelf, and didn’t get back to it until sometime after New Year’s.  This New Year’s.  

Photo by Yosef Futsum on Unsplash

For reasons I could no longer remember, I kept putting it off, looking up at it with a wistful sigh of “someday”.  Writing, I assume, took up some of the time I would have spent doing wonderful things like puzzles or re-learning guitar.  Last year was the opposite: not enough writing, too much...reading?  TV?  Scratching my butt, more likely.  

Imagine a child dragging themselves to the piano every day, plonking out a vague melody with their index fingers purely to appease the adults within earshot, and you’ll have a reasonably accurate metaphor for my writing the first seven months of 2022.

The latter five were plagued by personal and family mishaps, work stress, yadda yadda. Valid excuses perhaps, but in August I realized that I’d been published every year since 2014, and it was probably too late to keep that streak going.  I dusted off a few pieces and submitted them in a mad dash to the finish line.  One story was accepted, but it won’t go to print until sometime this year.

At some point during the ’20s (I love saying that), I got it in my head that centipedes or spiders had crawled inside that jigsaw mat and died.  Or maybe they’re thriving in there, doing the Charleston during critter condo happy hour.  With my dear patient husband’s assistance, I finally unfurled the mat.  The inflatable tube holding everything in place had lost a little air, but everything remained surprisingly intact.  My eyes have aged along with the rest of me, so I didn’t get very far.  But the return to enjoyable pastime was a win in itself.  

With piles of unfinished stories and folders of notes; a pack of new guitar strings; a charcoal pencil and adorable three-inch canvases (I couldn’t resist), and rainbow of acrylic paints, it’s time to quit dragging my ass.  One creative outlet should never eclipse the others.  

Other than Bart at the blackboard, I’d forgotten what this puzzle looked like.  His message?

“I will finish what I start.” 

The little bastard.

On New Year’s Day, my husband and I revived our annual tradition of the movie marathon.  In the BeforeTimes, movies were released to theaters first, popping up on streaming or DVD months later.  Now they’re released on all formats simultaneously or nearly so, and theaters are ghost towns except for the ones showing the latest superhero thing.  Not that I mind semi-private screenings, but the fate of theaters worries me.  So many empty facilities, so many jobs lost, the end of an era.  

Norridge Theater, back in the day. Pic stolen from Cinema Treasures .

Our last movie on the docket, Violent Night, was showing in my old stomping grounds.  Norridge Theater is the same venue where I saw my first movie by myself (Angels in the Outfield, for $4.75), where my high school friends and I attended a free screening of The Fan with Robert DeNiro, walked out mid-way, and still felt cheated by the cost.  

Now part of the AMC chain, the east half of the building has since closed, the west half remodeled into a maze of luxury theaters.  The dingy mom-and-pop charm is gone along with the crowds.  We left the theater at 1:20am and met only fog in the parking lot, when two years ago it would have been bustling with teenagers.  The ride home was desolate, as it was the night before: many of the bars in our neighborhood, if they opened at all, closed at five.  Five!  On New Year’s Eve!  As much as I like the idea that staffers finally got to spend a holiday as they wished instead of cleaning up after mooks, I fear it’s not benevolence on the part of managers that caused the early lock-ups.

I rarely see anyone wearing a mask these days.  The booster rate is surprisingly low.  We’ve all shrugged our shoulders and plowed ahead.  At work, we’ve returned to in-person interviews and meetings.  At a time it seems we should be returning to “normal” with businesses thriving, I’m seeing more closures than I have in the last two years.  

We seem to be wandering, confused and empty.  Ghosts wondering why we haven’t leapt over to the next world yet.  Waiting for the next shoe to drop, I suppose.  What is left undone or unsaid, I wonder, as I try to connect with online friends without memes bridging the gap.

BeforeTimes traditions may have faded, and my peopling skills continue to flounder (I’m studying the humans for greater insight), but one thing steadfastly connects us all: The End-of-Year List.  

Everybody loves books and movies.  (Well, most of us, anyway.)  Both are always a great icebreaker, even if the conversation starts with “are you crazy?!”  

Some traditions I’m going to cling to, even as the world changes beneath my feet.

As usual, the disclaimers:

“Movies” has always included DVDs, but now also includes TV and streaming.

I don’t rank the work of friends and close colleagues.

These are personal favorites, not “best”, because what the hell is that, really.

The List disregards release date.

Of course I have lists of least favorites, those are the most fun to write.  But it’s a dick move to publish them, so the only people who know are my secret cadre of corporeal cronies (also a great name for an assembly of Batman villains).

If you’ve seen/read any of these, what did you think? Tell me your favorites too! I love recommendations.

MOVIES

Best

1.  Choke (2008)

2.  Blue, White, and Perfect (1942)

3.  Barry – seasons 1–3 (2018–20)

4.  See How They Run (2022)

5.  Petit Maman (2021)

6.  The Bear – season 1 (2022)

7.  Montana Story (2021)

8.  Moon (2009)

9.  Something in the Dirt (2022)

10. TIE - Michael Shayne, Private Detective; Sleepers West; Dressed to Kill; The Man Who Wouldn’t Die; Just Off Broadway; A Time to Kill (1940–1942)

11.  Hatful of Rain (1957)

12.  Cry of the City (1948)

13.  Reservation Dogs – season 1 (2021)

14.  Studio 666 (2022)

15.  Licorice Pizza (2022)

16.  Only Murders in the Building – season 2 (2022)

17.  Thief (1981)

18.  Nightbreed (1990)

19.  TIE - Final Destination 1–3 (slight edge to FD1; 2000, 2003, 2006)

Honorable Mentions

1.  Dexter: New Blood (2021)

2. Crimes of the Future (2022)

3.  Serial Killer’s Guide to Life (2019)

4.  Roadrunner: A Film Anthony Bourdain (2021)

5.  Atlanta – season 1 (2016)

6. The Pale Blue Eye (2022)

7.  Big Night (1996)

8.  No Time to Die (2021)

9.  Saloum (2021)

10. Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror (2021)

11. The Patient – season…1? (2022)

BOOKS

Fiction

1.  The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

2.  Jesus’ Son by Denis Johnson

3.  Shoebox Train Wreck by John Mantooth

4.  Heaven’s Crooked Finger by Hank Early

5.  Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr

6.  Recitatif by Toni Morrison

7.  Exhalation by Ted Chiang

8.  Tell Me an Ending by Jo Harkin

9.  Hard Mouth by Amanda Goldblatt

Nonfiction and Memoir
1.  World Record Book of Racist Stories by Amber Ruffin and Lacey Lamar

2.  Rock On by Dan Kennedy

3.  Lady Sings the Blues by Billie Holiday

4.  One Square Inch of Silence: One Man’s Search for Silence in a Noisy World by Gordon Hempton

5.  Sentient: How Animals Illuminate the Wonder of Our Human Senses by Jackie Higgins

6.  Anne Frank’s Diary: The Graphic Adaptation by Ari Folman

7.  Craft in the Real World: Rethinking Fiction Writing and Workshopping by Matthew Salesses

8.  Where they Purr by Paul Barbera

9.  We Had a Little Real Estate Problem: The Unheralded Story of Native Americans in Comedy by Kliph Nesteroff

10. Arbitrary Stupid Goal by Tamara Shopsin

11. The Body of John Oakhurst by John L. Anderson

12. Weapons of Math Destruction: How Big Data Increases Inequality and Threatens Democracy by Cathy O’Neil

13. Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops by Jen Campbell

Picture Books & YA

1.  Maudie and Me and the Dirty Book by Betty Miles

2.  TIE - Al Capone Does My Shirts and Al Capone Shines My Shoes by Jennifer Choldenko (slight edge to Shirts)

3.  Ben’s Trumpet by Rachel Isadora

4.  Speak!: Children's Book Illustrators Brag About Their Dogs by Michael Rosen

Poetry

1.  I Never Saw Another Butterfly: Children's Drawings and Poems from the Terezin Concentration Camp, 1942-1944 edited by Hana Volavkova

2.  Everything On It and Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

Over the last year, I think I’ve gotten the hang of this book signing thing, and streamlined my efforts to make the process easier. 

They’ve all been fun, but full of surprises.  You can never gauge attendance, even when conditions seem certain, so say yes to as many opportunities as you can.  Last year I set up at Printer’s Row in the Chicago Writers Association booth.  Not only were we having a tough time getting noticed, we could count the number of visitors walking out with any books on one hand.  This year I decided to save myself the table fee, and a colleague told me he made out like gangbusters, despite the rainy weather.

Sharing a table is better than going it alone.  This is especially nice if the person next to you sells a different thing.  More than once, a reader said they preferred a specific genre that I don’t do (yet).  I directed them to my tablemate, and my mate did the same for me.  

It’s also easier to keep things lively with another person, because you will repeat the same schtick 973 times.  Bring water for the same reason; that shtick dries you out.  And everything comes full circle: your tablemate transforms into a handy Pee Pal, watching your merch when you visit the loo.

Thank you, Irit Keynan (Unsplash)

Sales are never guaranteed, and you can’t predict which event will be lucrative.  But I’ve met tons of fellow book lovers who seemed genuinely pleased to meet me, and most signed up for my newsletter.  And as one author stated at Berwyn Library’s inaugural event, it’s about connecting with readers more than selling.  

Speaking in part for myself, times are tough and money is tight.  I want to support everybody but that’s just not possible.  I tend to gather up information and narrow down my choices later.  I can’t be the only one who does that, so...

Have a shit-ton of cards.  Business cards are cheap and provide information on you: your website, your socials, your contact info, your aesthetic.  Product cards (or one-sheets) include your cover, back cover text, buy links, and excerpts of the best reviews.  Encourage visitors to take some before they leave your table.  When they get home, that cover imagery will intrigue them a second time and they have a minute to absorb the details.  And if it’s still not for them, maybe they’ll pass the card to a friend.

Pack a single box that you can carry without help. Parking might be half a block away from the event, and you don’t want to crush yourself under a fifty-pound weight.  Plus, I don't know a single modest-level author who sold more than 25 copies at a single event.  I have everything in a standard copy-paper box.  It has handles, it’s sturdy, and the lid fits nice and tight.

Necessaries

Books with a stand for each title.  You can stack a few copies at different heights and display one on top.  I know most people don’t need a reminder to bring books to a book signing, yet, I started the car once with nothing but a box of stands in the trunk.  

Cards as mentioned above with displays, but if you only have one book, you can fan cards on the table.

Newsletter sign-up sheet, if you have one, or use this opportunity to do a giveaway.  

My sign-up also has an icebreaker question: ‘What’s your favorite pie?’  It’s unexpected and fun, until you meet the rare bird who doesn’t like pie.  They...exist.

Cash box with a shit-ton of singles.

Square (or other card reader hardware) and corresponding accepted-card signage. 

Pens.  One for the newsletter/giveaway and at least two to sign.  If you bring a single pen, it will die, because the Universe can be a real dick.  

Don’t get fancy.  I won a fountain pen before Edge of Sundown came out.  I thought, I’m gOinG to uSe thiS foR SignInGs liKe a Real AutHoR, but you know what?  That shit’s heavy.  If you sign more than three things in short order you’ll sprain something. 

Test them all in your actual book.  I love the shit out of my Pentel EnerGel and my Pilot G2, but I made sure the ink didn’t bleed through.  Otherwise I’d have been blowing on the pages like an asshole while the customer regretted his decision.  

Tape, paperweight, and binder clips.  A lot of events are outside, and sometimes the only table covering provided is a thin plastic sheet.  If it’s windy, you’ll want to tape it down.  The binder clips will keep your one-sheets from flopping over.

Ziplock bags and umbrella if it’s an outdoor event.  In case it rains, you can pack up most of your merch, but leave one of each wrapped in plastic.  Anyone sticking around can still read your back cover.

Tissue, sanitizer (the only bathroom might be a port-a-potty), phone charger (that Square eats up the battery), fan (you don’t want to pass out from heat stroke mid-handshake; an old fashioned paper one will do).

Paper/notebook, especially for small, in-store events.  Sometimes there won't be a single customer for twenty minutes, so you might as well use the time to get some writing done.  Your work-in-progress can double as a conversation starter, and scribbling on paper keeps you from piddling around on your phone, which might appear standoffish.

A good night’s sleep and a big morning coffee.  Author events are fun and exciting but they take all the spoons and a couple of sporks.  

Un-Necessaries, but Things Worth Thinking About

Tablecloth.  Ask your host if they’re provided.  If not, it makes for a nice presentation.  

Logo table runner.  These small cloths hang down the front and represent your brand (for the record, I hate this term with my entire body and soul).  They can cost upwards of $70 but draw the eye across a crowded room.

Icebreaker Thing.  Wear a funny t-shirt, put a symbolic object from your book on display, whatever floats your boat.  It gives visitors (and you!) something to talk about other than The Schtick.

Risers and decor.  

At Once Upon a Book, I sat next to a lady with a beautiful setup.  Wooden crates displaying books on and inside, beads and fairy lights dangling along the edges, gauzy fabric weaving among her wares.  It’s a fun way to represent your books’ themes and attract attention without going broke.

Hotspot (in case there’s no WiFi to run the Square).

Bowls of candy or free swag.  

Keep in mind, these can end up costing a lot, especially since they need constant replenishment.  Candy can melt and will eventually spoil.  It’s also another box of stuff you need to carry.  

If you do either, keep it practical.  Logo wrappers are cute, but no one keeps a wrapper food was in.  The candy gets eaten, the wrapper gets tossed, and you get forgotten.

From Narcis Ciocan (Pixabay)

If you have swag items for sale, make sure you keep a tight eye on them or make a special display with a price tag.  I had a handful of gorgeous wooden bookmarks, custom-carved with my book title and website, and quite a few people thought they were giveaways.  I only stopped three of them before they walked away.

Most attendees are fun to talk to, because you all have one great love in common.  Once someone made a beeline for my table, which was super sweet.  Kids will say the cutest things, like the girl who saw my kitty paperweight and told me about her own pet, or the tiny fellow who was thrilled by a dump truck around the corner.  

Then there are...others.  Admittedly, I find most human behavior baffling.  But certain people are less than supportive, for reasons I cannot fathom.  Like the parent who insisted my tablemate’s picture book must be like A Certain Famous Series, and she also wasn’t pitching it hard enough.  Or the person who told me they read cookbooks, followed by “if you believe that...” as they walked away.  Or the many(!) people who say they don’t read at all.  Or my favorite, the person who blew a raspberry at profanity in fiction because it debases language.  I wonder if the irony has dawned yet.  

It took me an embarrassingly long time to stick my foot in the door, but I found these and other events just by googling.  If an event has passed, ask the host if you can get on their mailing list for next year.  And sometimes you need to get the ball rolling yourself: contact your local library or bookstore for a slot.  They’ll likely even do a little advertising on your behalf, putting a thumbnail on their webpage, newsletter, and socials.  After all, it’s free publicity for them too.

Tell me what I missed.  If you’ve done signings, how have they gone?  If you’re a reader, what do you like or dislike about these events? 

Leslie and I found each other in an online writers’ group, and last year we finally met in person. Every time we talk I find out something new and interesting about her, like where she got her start…

Q: Tell us about your writerly beginnings! What’s a little known fact you wish more people knew?

A: That I was a high school drop out. Despite the fact that I attended law school and practiced law for many years before becoming a writer, I began without a high school education. I do not encourage this, but I want people to know that you can do anything if you put your mind to it. After getting my GED, I struggled financially to make it through junior college, then the university, and then law school, but I finally made it. How was I able to do this without basic high school education? It was because I had determination and, most of all, I was an exceptional reader. Reading is everything. A person who can read well has the key to unlock thousands, nay, millions of opportunities.

Q: You’ve had a fascinating career, first as a lawyer and later as a shelter aide and waitress, among other things. How does your rich background inform your writing?

A: It taught me about people. I write character-driven stories. To be able to focus on character, I must understand different characters. I do not mean the caricature form of writing; I mean how people are really motivated. I think working as a census taker taught me the most, at least at first. I was later able to apply what I learned there, and the education I received from the food and beverage industry, to my law career, and then what I learned there to my writing.

Q: Though you were born in the South, you spend part of the year outside the US. What can you tell us about your travels? Do you notice a difference in your writing style depending on where you’re located?

A: I think it goes deeper than that. Yes, I was born in the South, but I was raised in the Midwest. I now live in the South in winter and Prince Edward Island in summer. I find that living in PEI brings back a lot of my memories of living in Iowa. The people on the Island are modern, but in some ways the place is like living in Iowa when I was a young girl in the 70’s. There is an innocence here that used to be in the Midwest. As far as my writing style, I’m so wrapped up in this novel now, which partly takes place in Maritime Canada, that I can’t really see a difference because this is almost all I write these days.

Q: What would you say is your favorite genre to write?

A: I like best to write fairy tales and legends. But I write almost everything except hard-core horror or sci-fi.

Q: You’ve been featured multiple times in magazines like Fudoki Magazine and Two Sisters Writing and Publishing. (Congrats!) Do you have any secrets to publishing success?

A: Don’t just send your stuff out willy-nilly hoping someone will take it. Read what publishers are looking for and if you don’t have what they’re asking, then don’t send them anything. In fact, only send them something if you have exactly what they’re asking for or at least pretty damn close. Publishers are getting hundreds of submissions for just a few slots. It doesn’t help you if you’re considered to be someone who can’t read because you sent something that is totally outside the call. Also, if they reject you but say submit again, then SUBMIT AGAIN. And ones who publish you like your writing style. Definitely submit to them again! I was published three years in a row by Scribes Valley because they published me the first year, so I figured they liked my writing. They stopped at three because I didn’t submit a fourth time - I’m too busy with my novel.

Q: What can you tell us about this novel? Any exclusive tidbits you can share?

A: History is ripe with things that you didn’t learn in school. My novel takes place from 1911-1919 and is set in Maritime Canada and Ireland. There are some things that happen that I learned about through research, but when I ask the people here they’ve never heard of them. Why? Because governments in many places, not just the United States, controlled the school curriculum, especially on matters they had intervened on. But, as time went by, those things have slowly made their way to the internet. These are the things that you look for when you write. These are true things that you bring to the public’s notice, but you do it in a story.

Q: What’s the most fascinating thing you’ve learned, either about the writing process or while researching?

A: I knew this already because it has always been one of my approaches to life, but I applied it to the writing process and obtained a result that was better than I could have hoped for – that is, it never hurts to ask. I will try to make this brief. I had read a poem but when I read it, I thought it was simply a line in a poem because it is so short. I thought, “just a line, I can claim fair use and use it in my novel.” But after a while I began using the whole principle of that line – it was like a thread that ran through my work. I looked up the poem again and then realized that line was the entire poem. Fear gripped me – I didn’t know how I could just remove all of my references to this, for it had become important to the work. So, after much thought, I looked up the author, found her on Twitter, and asked her if I could use her poem. She asked to know more about my novel, and gave me her email address. Well, what I sent her must have seemed like a mini dissertation. She responded rather tongue in cheek that she certainly had a clear picture of what I was writing and my intentions, and that yes, I could use her poem in any way I wanted, including for the title. All she wants is attribution which of course she will have. But I never expected her to be so generous. Like I said, it never hurts to ask for what you want.

Q: In addition to writing, you do impressive beadwork. What about the medium appealed to you most? Can you share any pictures of your favorite pieces?

A: That’s easy – I liked beading because it sparkled! It’s funny though because I seldom wear jewelry. There used to be this commercial for Ortega Mexican products. In the commercial, the family was making tacos. The question they asked was, “what’s more fun, making them or eating them?” For me, when it comes to making jewelry, it is much more fun to make it than wear it.

Q: Standard question: favorite pie?

A: Rhubarb-pineapple. If rhubarb is unavailable, then any two-crust fruit pie that I make.

Q: What question do you wish I’d asked but missed?

A: If I thought I was an artist. When I saw the name of your blog – Artist Centerstage – I cringed and almost told you I couldn’t do the interview. I think people throw the word “artist” around too easily these days. Everyone thinks they are an artist when
99% of us, perhaps more, are merely craftsmen. Shakespeare was an artist. Cather, Steinbeck, and the like, they were artists. I am merely a craftsman. The same goes for what I do with beads and quilting. I do want to encourage other writers, other beaders – everyone however they want to express themselves – but it is my opinion that calling oneself an artist is like making a comparison to Michelangelo. I know I don’t even come close. But the world also needs us craftsmen. There are so few true artists that we’d get bored if that’s all we had. So celebrate being a craftsman. I know I do!

Q: Thank you for interviewing with me! How can we keep up with you?

A: I’m on Goodreads and Amazon Authors. I can also be found on Twitter.

This weekend I attended the Once Upon a Book author signing in Frankenmuth, MI. Being broke-ish, I wanted to maximize my time away. Thus, this was an all-in-one conference/author signing/writing retreat/research fest. Bonus: cheaper gas. Thanks, Michigan and Indiana!

My current novel project requires some research into ghost towns and their surrounding areas. Specifically, what it must be like to live within walking distance of an abandoned place, where homes and businesses are somewhat intact but crumbling.

I stopped in Singapore (now Saugatuck) and Fallasburg, MI, on my way to Frankenmuth. Buried beneath the sand, all that remains of Singapore is a historical marker; the bustling lakefront town of Saugatuck surrounded its resting place. All was not lost, however: when research doesn’t pan out, get yourself an ice cream cone.

Charlie’s, photo swiped from Yelp; neat sculpture, photo taken by me.

I would have taken a picture of the cone itself, but the temp was just hot enough to melt it the second I stepped outside. I busied myself with hoovering the scoop before it turned to soup (and barely made it).

I encountered a different problem in Fallasburg. Many of its ancient buildings are preserved with historical markers. 

Old Schoolhouse (1867s); Post Office (1851).

People still live in some of the residences, and in the case of Misner House (Historical Society), the upper level is a museum. I had to backtrack for a picture of this one; I thought I saw a caretaker in the window. Nope. I also did not Google anything further.

Misner House / Historical Society (1830?)

Does it really count as a ghost town if it’s kept up as a tourist attraction? Possibly, but not for my purposes, so the hunt continues. Whatever you call it, I wish I’d spent more time on the bank of Flat River, basking in the profound silence, broken only by the huffs of a possibly irritable boxer.

Fallasburg Covered Bridge (1871)

Though my research didn’t entirely go as planned, it’s always nice to putz around someplace new and devoid of city noise. I sold more books at the signing than I had at Printer’s Row and connected with a bunch of nifty readers and writers. And in the snippets of time between events, I wrote three scenes on the WIP that I’m legitimately pleased with, after a stretch of hot garbage and vaguely defined voice. I’d call that a success.

If you know a great place to visit in the Midwest, please comment below!

We were warned, but no one listened.

Soylent arrived in the US in 2013.  Not as wafers like the 1973 documentary predicted, but as tasty 4-pack beverages.  No one forced us to take it, the food availability situation wasn’t dire. It was simply enticing us from the shelves at Walgreens next to Boost and Carnation’s Breakfast Essentials with delicious flavors like mint chocolate.  Oh the lols we shared over that name, the referential video clips.  It was all a joke to you, wasn’t it? 

Well here we are, 2022.  We’re now dealing with the pollution, climate change, and food, water, and housing shortages foretold 50 years ago.  There’s precious little time left to reverse this awful chain of events that will lead to devouring our neighbors.  We must overcome the temptation of sweet, lucious Soylent Green!

Charlton Heston called upon me to assist in the fight; never mind that he’s dead.  Aren’t we all dead, in a sense?  It’s been a rough couple of years.  Anyway, who am I to argue?  Chuck was a tough bastard, and I wouldn’t want to piss him off.  So unfortunately, I won’t be at Midwest Writers Workshop after all, because I’m trying to save you and your children from becoming convenience food.  

No need to thank me.  Saving the world is gratifying enough.  But you can show your appreciation by buying a book or two.  If you enjoyed the 200 words of fiction above, here are a bunch of others you might enjoy, some of which are free.

This year, I’m heading to two writers’ conferences, but this time they have to do triple duty.  

Supermarket prices are high, gas prices are higher, and air travel is scary.  Not because of COVID so much anymore, but the nutjobs having tantrums and trying to drop-kick flight attendants.  I’m anxious enough when flying; I don’t need that bullshit on top of it.  

Sick to death of Zoom**, I decided it’s time to find in-person events that:

are within driving distance 

aren’t stupid expensive

double as writing retreats

preferably offer advanced or unusual workshops and  

allow me to sell my books.

Unfortunately, points A and E eliminated quite a few I had my eye on.  Point D crossed out a few more, as too many conferences keep things frustratingly generic and broad.  I narrowed down my shortlist to Midwest Writers Workshop and Once Upon A Book.

Midwest Writers in Muncie, IN checked off a few boxes that I found greatly appealing: a keynote on anxiety by Jane Friedman; workshops on “reclaiming your pre-pandemic mojo”, revision triage, and point of view, which I’ve been playing around with in my latest novel experiment; and a consignment shop.  Rather than renting table space, I’ll have copies of my novel, Edge of Sundown, in a makeshift bookstore.  Interested in joining the event, or just doing some shopping for works by local-ish authors?  Sign up here.   

Once Upon a Book sounded delightfully different and will allow me to finally meet one of my writer friends (and hopefully future collaborators) in person.  Held in Frankenmuth, MI, I can also revisit some landmarks from a childhood trip I took with my parents . . . 30 years ago?  (That can’t be right.  Surely not.)  

At the end of the first day’s panel discussions (including one on marketing, lord help me), attendees are invited to cut loose at a themed dinner party.  A monster ball, people.  How fun is that?  Although I have no weather-appropriate costume or even an evening dress, I do own a badass tiny hat***.

Image from cottonbro via Pexels.

This two-day event ends with a traditional author signing****.  Want to meet me (likely still wearing my tiny hat) and a bunch of other nifty scribes (hats not guaranteed)?  You’re in luck: I’m raffling off five free tickets.  If you’re interested, email me and mention this post.  If you share it, tell me where and I’ll drop your name in the bucket twice.  I’ll announce the winners via email June 29th.  

(Even if you don’t win, you can still register here.  If you’re interested in buying a copy of Edge of Sundown or my smutty chapbook, Escape Artists, you can pre-order both here.)

*Seriously, I’m taking advice.

**I am SO DONE participating in lengthy video meetings.  Two hours at a stretch give me ants in the pants.  An entire conference?  Nooooooooooope.

***I am obsessed with tiny hats.  One can’t have too many.

****By which I mean the traditional setup; not necessarily traditionally published.  I’m hoping we’ll see a wide smattering of artists.

Two weeks ago I put up the latest issue of Jenny Eat World.  I was feeling pretty pleased with myself, until I realized that it was not the third installment after all, but the second.  I’d written others, but they stayed in the first draft folder.  Worse than that, the first Jenny post was almost a year ago!  A YEAR.   

I saw my parents three weeks ago to celebrate Mother’s Day. Before that, we got together for my birthday at the end of March.  What happened to April?  Neither of us could remember.  I couldn’t even account for what I did, or where I went.  

Recently I left work just after 5:00 as usual, dropped by an Open House (admittedly for cheese and cake), took a different L route home with a quick stop for milk and eggs, and somehow unlocked my door at 8:30.  That particular course adds 15 minutes to my trip, and the connecting train was 10 minutes behind, and the bodega stop took
five minutes.  I know I couldn’t have been eating cake for two hours.  So where did the time go?  I don’t recall walking through a portal, and I bypassed the wine tent (I know, I’m surprised too).  I snarfed a quick dinner and went to bed.  I felt like I was being punished.

Photo by Karolina Grabowska via Pexels. I used the search term “time is a prick” and wow, did they deliver.

Every week I promise myself I’ll work out (and write) more.  I’ll just take a one-day break after meeting with my trainer (or staring at the laptop’s blue glow for hours), I say, and I’ll do a full routine (write a couple more pages) on Thursday.  Then: oh look it’s Sunday night.  Might as well have more cake.

Anyone else getting robbed by the time fairy?  I’d like to hear your secrets.  Or conspiracy theories, assuming they don’t cause a breach in the void.  Or just bitch with me.  I’m not alone...right?