DANGER ZONE - LIBRARY? By Morgan Mandel

Last Friday, against my better judgment I ventured once again to the Arlington Heights Memorial Library for the Friends of the Library Night book sale. This is the special night reserved for Friends of the Library members the night before the general public book sale starts. To be a friend, it's only $5.00, so it's worth the investment.

Between autographed books from friends I absolutely will not part with and books I would like to read but never seem to get a chance to, I own an overabundance of books. I had no business adding more to my collection but couldn't resist.

Although the library organizes the event by passing out numbers so everybody doesn't rush in at once, the sales room is a scene of semi-controlled bedlam. No one tramples on anyone, but sometimes they do come close. People sit or stoop to look at books under the tables, while others try to get around them. It's difficult to spend any amount of time trying to check what a book is about because there are so many people dying to get into the same area.

Then there are the notorious booksellers making their rounds with mini-computers which scan books into programs to gauge what the books are worth. These people are fast and know what they're doing. Before an average person can even pick up a book, it's swiped up into a huge canvas bag and deposited in the stage area, where boxes are kept. Entire dollies are wheeled out with what I assume are priceless books that will be for sale on e-bay or in bookstores.

Despite the bustle, I, being adventurous about stuff I really want, do try to get to the Friends of the Library Book Sale whenever I can. So, I did brave the mob and managed to pick up a few goodies for my collection - a few cds and some promising-looking books which I hope to finish before the next book sale, but probably won't be able to.

While I did my browsing, I happened to run into my hair stylist, Dan, from Village Family Hair Care, 108 North Evergreen, in downtown Arlington Heights. I'm including his photo, along with another from the event.

By the way, if you live in the area and need a good haircut, Dan can be reached at 847-259-4464. Tell him Morgan sent you. If you come to his shop, you'll notice my bookmarks, business cards and postcards on the counter by the register. I never miss a chance at promotion if I can help it.

Until next time,

All the best,

Morgan Mandel

http://www.morganmandel.com/

http://acmeauthorslink.blogspot.com/

http://bookplace.ning.com/

http://mysteryturtles.blogspot.com/

http://www.myspace.com/morganmandel

Mark your calendar: Meet Morgan Mandel and DL Larson at the Schaumburg Barnes & Noble book signing ... on Thursday, November 29th, 7:00 - 8:30 p.m.

Roads not taken

Recently, the Chicago Tribune carried an article by Emilie Le Beau titled "When to surrender." In that feature, Le Beau quotes literary agent Michael Larsen as saying "The reality is, agents and editors reject nearly 100 percent of what they see."

At least they're consistent.

What follows is not the usual "keep writing and keep at it and one day you'll make it" pep talk, because that pep talk is just so much verbal balm.

As novelists we go on submitting to traditional publishers because that's where the most money is, at least for fiction. But we know the odds are against us, especially first-timers. We keep doing so because we wrote the damn book, and we think it's good, we want it published, and we want to get paid at least something for our work. So we drive straight ahead down the lane of getting an agent and getting an editor's attention, convinced that our combination of brute force and determination will get us through and get us published.

There are several interesting things about riding a motorcycle, but one comes to mind as most relevant here.

Motorcycling makes you much more aware of your surroundings. When you're on a bike, you're not as insulated from the world as you are in the glass and steel confines of a car. And while there's been many a cold morning when I've been on the bike and wished for more insulation, even as I focus on the road, I can't help but "see" more of what's happening around me. Indeed, key to a biker's longevity is to "see" farther ahead , "see" threats coming from behind, and "see" potential dangers and escape routes ahead and to the left and right. A biker sees the environment differently too. Bikers do see the world differently in terms of threats, possibilities and opportunities.

Writers would be well advised to look around and see the writing and publishing world differently as well. If you see only the lane of traditional publishing, you'll likely find that lane full of traffic. Which is not to say you have to either drive off-road and self-publish, as driving off-road and self-publishing fiction both have low probabilities of success. The number of alternatives to traditional (often known as "New York") publishing are very substantial and in fact greater than any time in US history, if only novelists would see them.

And who says you have to stay in the US?

As a biker, I've learned to stay away from Interstate highways. Supposedly the fastest, most direct, and cheapest methods of driving from point A to B, I've found them crowded, boring, dangerous, slow, and mind-numbing. I can travel 500 miles and see the same fast food restaurants as I saw in the place I started.

I now see the world not in terms of Interstates, but in terms of good back roads. The back roads are often slower, twistier, more challenging, and sometimes harder to find. However, that trip is much more rewarding. And, I end up at my destination feeling like I've seen much more. I have to watch out for speed traps, but on the Interstate I have to keep an eye out for overzealous state troopers anyway.

If you are a novelist, consider seeing the publishing world differently. You may find your journey much more rewarding if you get off the toll road.

Enjoy the ride.

Todd
www.storytellerroad.com

Playing with fire ... bwah ,ha, ha

I gotta tell you a deep dark secret about myself.

I'm a lazy researcher.

In fact, I'm pretty much a non-researcher. I rarely, if ever do anything that might be misconstrued as research.

I mean, sure, during my first book I Googled Dan Quayle quotes to make sure that I was using actual quotes rather than just the quotes that people suggested DQ would have spoken had he thought of it.

We are ready for any unforeseen event that may or may not occur.
Dan Quayle, 9/22/90

I stand by all the misstatements that I've made.
Dan Quayle, to Sam Donaldson, 8/17/89

Still though, as research, it wasn't much different than just Googling Knock Knock jokes. Fun, but not particularly informative.

(Oh, sorry Larry, Quayle is from your state, right?)

Anyway, as far as putting effort into researching a book, Dan Brown I'm not. And, uh, as far as book sales, Dan Brown I'm not. ... and, well, okay, enough of that.

But today I did some research! Really!

Woo-hoo!

There's a story that I'm working on a story where a pothead starts a big fire by catching his munchies on fire.

My research? I needed to know if potato (or as Quayle would say, 'potatoe') chips are flammable.

So I collected my resident pyro, my daughter Lauren, and we convened a high council of pyromaniacs on the front porch. I held the chip, glistening with grease, and she had a fireplace match.

I held my breath as the match got near the chip....

You wanna know if potato chips burn? Do your own experiment. Either that, or read my book to find out.

(hmmm... wonder if Cheetos burn?)

Norm

www.normcowie.com
The Adventures of Guy ... written by a guy (probably)
The Next Adventures of Guy ... more wackiness

Happy Halloween -- by Larry D. Sweazy

So this week brings us Halloween. It is my wife’s favorite holiday of the year. Last year we had almost a hundred trick-or-treaters. She keeps count with a joyous fervor. There’s 10 pounds of candy hidden in the pantry. Our street looks like the Halloween scene out of the movie, ET. It’s pretty cool actually.

Thankfully the days of soaping windows and toilet papering trees are past us—not that I ever engaged in such devious behavior…

Now, we just have a band of cute kids dressed up in all sorts of costumes knocking on the door, and robbing me of my Snickers bars…OK, OK, I don’t mind sharing so much…as long as there’s some Tootsie Rolls left for me.

The cool thing about Halloween is, even in its watered down form from when I was a kid, we still encourage kids to dress up and be something else for a day. A pirate. A witch. A pumpkin. And that’s the best part. Imagination is still a part of our lives…for a day, anyway. We still encourage kids to PLAY dress up.

I loved Halloween as a kid. In the town we grew up in you could trick-or-treat for 3 nights. Throwing corn and soaping windows started a week before. I haven’t seen a soaped window in years. You’d probably get shot or sued today if you did some of the stuff we did as kids (other kids--like I said, I never did any of that stuff, I swear).

It was innocent fun, but now that I’m older, it really wasn’t as harmless as I thought was at the time. There are few tricks in my neighborhood, and in a way, the edge has been taken off Halloween for me because of that…

Anyway, back to imagination, which is what this post is all about. The great thing about being a writer is that is Halloween every day for us. We get to play any character we want, dress them up, put in them in exotic locations, and if we're lucky, our work finds an audience and a reader will tell us that we touched their heart, made them laugh, took them away from their problems for a day. That’s better than a sack full of Snicker’s Bars if you ask me.

But we have to grow our imagination, allow it to bloom. Halloween is a seed. Those little goblins who are coming to your door begging for chocolate Wednesday could be the future writers of their generation—learning what it feels like to be a pirate for a day, so maybe they can be a writer for life. Think about that when you open the door to the chorus of trick-or-treat, and how Halloween fed your imagination as a writer. I bet it makes you smile just a little more.

Now I’m off to find that bag of Tootsie Rolls my wife hid from me…I know it's around here somewhere...

Happy Halloween!

A Short Blog by Margot Justes

Just an FYI, still nothing from Mr. Tom Jones or his agent. I am going to try the phone, see if I have any luck going that route. I will keep you posted on any suceess or lack thereof.

It is Sunday afternoon already and I still have to do the blog, minutes for RWA, answer my
e-mails and did I mention, a short story to write with a November 9th deadline.

A short note on Rob Walker's blog-book burning is a horrific concept. If you don't like the subject matter, content, whatever-don't buy the book, but please allow the individual adult reader the courtesy and the right to make up their own mind.

I am off my soap box, and am back at work, finishing all my other tasks. Before I know it it will be Monday morning and I'll be back at work, at an actual job with a salary, benefits etc...

Till next time,

Margot Justes
AHotel In Paris
Echelon Press LLC June 2006
www.mjustes.com

BANNED BOOKS, PAT CONROY AND A FIERY LETTER FROM FROM By Robert W. Walker

Whenever the "banner" of Banned Books raises its ugly head again,waving out ignorance and illiteracy, Underdog Rob will be near. In an area high school, the fools in charge are now trying to ban Pat Conroy's books. Here is my letter to the editor in response to a letter published in the Charleston Gazette two days ago. I was much pleased that our largest newspaper made it front
page news. Conroy said among other things: "Here is my favorite thing: because you banned my books, every kid in your county will want to read them."


Subject: Pat Conroy Letter/local author's take
To: http://us.f827.mail.yahoo.com/ym/Compose?To=gazette@wvgazette.com&YY=6517&y5beta=yes&y5beta=yes&order=down&sort=date&pos=0

Hello Mr. White --

I read the front page story on Pat Conroy's response to the bruhaha at Nitro High School over Prince of Tides and other of Conroy's work. First, I commend the Gazette leadership for
placing the story on page one. Many another newspaper would have buried this importantt story and issue--book banning.

Secondly,
let me thank you for making the story a prominent one. More and more freedoms gained by blood in battlefields throughout US history are being eroded away, and with each book banned by the closed-minded who cannot see beyond a four letter word or a scene of violence to the depth of meaning in Pat Conroy and other fine authors who make of a pantheon of American and British and actually world-wide genius in letters are a testament to the poverty in Education today. The schools in Chicago in the 50s and 60s I thought were like prisons that placed chains on the minds of young people, but those schools seem today like country clubs. The level of intelligence of those running our schools is staggering. Most no clue as to what the grace of fiction is all about, and I daresay most seldom to never understood their English teachers nor understand why the word English is always capitalized.

I have myself written, edited, and published over forty novels of suspense, mystery, and much mayhem, and am in fact working on my forty-six such work. I can't understand how people in a position to hire professionals in the field of English instruction can't themselves see that every classic from Moby Dick to Heart of Darkness is about violence and the attachment of violence to the human condition--that we are not angels, that the world is populated with as much evil as it can bear, and that young people need, as Ernest Hemmingway cautioned, "a built-in bullshit detector."

Finally, I wish to commend not only young McKenzie Hatfield at Nitro High but all of her classmates as well who've stood up in an attempt to be heard, as they've done so admirably and for the right reasons. Imagine it, even Mark Twain is on the banned list. Imagine a young person denited the joys of reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. This is the reason such organizations as the American Library Association is against banning any book. It is a slippery slope. Ban one book, ban them all, and pretty soon you have what Ray Bradbury says will happen. He said, if I may paraphrase: "You don't have to burn books to get people to stop reading them. You just have to get people to stop caring to read."

In other words, create a nation of illiterates and you can easily understand the rise of a Hitler or a stolen election.

Robert W. Walker
Writer, speaker, teacher
www.RobertWWalkerBooks.com
Google and Amazon
>

I Ain't Gonna Paint No More by DL Larson

Have you ever had a "theme" week? I mean when several things happen regarding a similar topic? Well, last week I had one.

It started with my preschool story hour. I read Karen Beaumont's giggler, called, "I ain't gonna paint no more," where this little boy ends up painting and painting all over himself! The kids got a kick out of it and happily dove into the paints I had set out and we had our own painting session. Clean up wasn't too bad if I imagined a herd of elephants had stampeded the library and not a dozen four year olds. Oh, and the four three year olds!

Then came Thursday. I was inspired from all the energy the youngsters had shown and
since it was my day off, I decided it was time to finish my summer project. Yes, I know it's October, past mid-October, but I still wanted to finish in the year 2007. Last spring we enclosed our back porch - did the window and tile floor thing, added heaters so it could be a three-season room. I'm very happy with my new back porch except for the painting I have yet to finish.

Above the windows is this area where old wood meets new wood. The old wood is aged, the new wood is not ... and in between the two stretches a strip of white stuff - I think it's called liquid silicone, maybe caulking - anyway, it's ugly and needs to be covered up! One can't expect to relax on my new three-season porch with an unsightly white line running around like that. My plan was to paint a red bar where old meets new. It would be a great accent to the room and camouflage the white glue line.

The paint I already had. As I dug the can from the paper sack the receipt came out too. The date was June 23rd. So the paint would need stirring. No problem, I had that under control. But since I'm a wallpaper hanger from way back, I knew my walls needed to be prepared first. I had forgotten to buy the blue tape, but figured I could find something suitable to use. After tearing through every junk drawer all I came up with was black electricians tape. Better than the duct tape, or so I thought.

Then came the tape measure, the yardstick and the level. My goodness there was so much to this painting and I had yet to unwrap my brush. I went back for the step ladder.

After scooting the furniture to the center of the room I began the task of marking where the red bar should be. Did I mention my windows are long and narrow and rather tall on the wall? So I was up on the ladder, down, back up on the ladder, then down again. This went on and on, as I measured, marked and measured, scooting the ladder across the room as I made my way onward.

All right then! With the measuring complete, I started taping. Hey, this electricians tape worked good. It stretched; that helped a lot. The walls are rough and I had worried what would stick, but the tape stuck. Again I did the ladder thing, up and down, scooting across the room. By the time I had finished, I was hungry. And still my paintbrush had yet to leave its wrapper.

The wind flitted in through the open windows as I fixed lunch. The actual painting would go quickly now that I had all the prep work done. I was really going to like the red bar above the windows. It would be the finishing touch to my new room. I cleaned the crumbs from the counter, tossed the dishes in the dishwasher and went back to the porch.

Manufacturers really should have a caution statement on their electricians tape. In the fifteen minutes I'd been gone, the wind played a trick on me. Or maybe it was the stretchy part of the tape that became bored and no longer wanted to stay stretched. Black strips dangled down in about two foot strips all around my porch. Several had completely given up and lay on the floor in lazy loops.

As I stood there contemplating the situation, two ideas popped into my head. I could give up and pretend the stupid white line was just part of the room ... Or, I could declare war and make my presence known. Giving up was not an option, so grabbing the ladder once more, I looked for the marks I'd made with the pencil. The hard part of measuring was behind me. This tape was going back up in a matter of minutes! The porch was getting painted TODAY!

Why the hell didn't I use a black marker? Pencil lines shouldn't disappear, but of course they did. Grabbing the level once more I began again. The ladder knew the routine by now and we plodded along, shutting windows as we crept across the room.

The sun was in the west before I opened the paint can. My arms ached from being over my head so much of the day, but stirring eased the kinks in my shoulder. The first coat of paint took fifteen minutes. I timed myself. And the paint manufacturer knew what he was talking about. The first coat had dried by the time I made my way around to the end. So I started in again. Not bad. Of course the tape started to peel away, drooping all around again. I tore it off. This project was way beyond needing straight lines. My brush and I were a team. We were painting, covering up that horrible white scar on my walls.

Has anyone considered that maybe - just maybe folks don't want white caulk in unsightly places in their homes! My painting turned to dabbing, that quickly became stabbing, blobbing paint to cover the shiny I can still see it line. The fourth coat did the trick. White disappeared and I sighed. I had won the battle.

It was supper time; I was hungry again. My husband came in and nodded at my work. "Looks, good. What's for supper?" He eyed me sitting in my comfy chair on the porch.

I sipped my beer. "Whatever you fix." This was a battle I knew how to win.

"Take-out sounds good to me," he said. Yep! All I had to do was take out the ladder, the paint can and brush, and the level. My work here was done.

But I conceded one thing. I ain't gonna paint no more!
I'll use the yellow pages.

Til next time ~

DL Larson


This weekend, DL will be attending the Western Kentucky Book Fair, 9:00 - 4:00 p.m., Saturday, Oct. 27th, at the John A. Arnold Convention Center a the Union County Fairgrounds, Sturgis, KY