Hammock Time

I know I'm supposed to be feeling the pressure of the upcoming Christmas season. I will. I promise.

But right now I'm in that soft, swaying place where the book is gone and the new book is barely forming in my mind, and I can see at least a part of the carpet in my office (it's blue. I'd almost forgotten) and after a week of dealing with a very sick dog, he seems to be currently improving (so I'm crossing my fingers and hoping for a miracle as he is 12 and that's 80-something in dog years), I don't want to do anything except lie here and drift.

Which is one reason you've had a dearth of blog entries this week. What could I say? Nothing was happening. I wasn't even reading. I was just . . . drifting.

It felt great to drift. Everyone should get to now and then.

But I have a feeling the drift is about to come to an end. I bought the Thanksgiving turkey today. Which means I had to clean out the refrigerator to find a place for it, which means I did less drifting than I had been.

And the characters are beginning to nag again. It's Demetrios this time.

He was the actor brother of Tallie and Theo Savas. Now's he's an independent film producer/director. He's in Cannes, and he's not exactly patient. He wants me to get on with his story. Across a crowded room he's just spotted a woman he never thought he'd see again.

And he's annoyed that I won't get out of my hammock and get to work.

I need to think about this some more, though. At least that's what I'm telling him. In the meantime I think I can get at least a few days more of relaxation.

After Thanksgiving? Yeah, I think that's about right. Maybe Christo's book will be back for revisions then and I can put Demetrios off a while longer.

Maybe I'll start looking for collage pictures. I think I know what he looks like. But I need to get a better idea about his heroine, Anny. At least I have lots of pictures of Cannes.

Anny is blonde, by the way. Wholesome. Girl next door-ish. Which, when he finds out who she really is, turns his world upside down. She's also capable of absolutely stunning elegance when required. Think Cinderella at the ball, minus the mice and the fairy godmother.

You guys helped me find the perfect Natalie. That's her to the left. Want to take a shot at Anny?

Post links or tell me names and I'll check them out.

I can do that while I'm still lying in the hammock.

They're Gone!

Christo and Natalie have left the building. They got finished last night and hopped across the pond shortly after midnight. They aren't even due until tomorrow. Does this make them premature?

No matter.

It makes them DONE. And that's what's important.

I'm off to watch Casino Royale so my mind will be refreshed and I will understand the back story for Quantum of Solace this week. And to read my Daniel Craig GQ.

Never let it be said that I don't take preparation seriously.

Tools of the Trade

As I have become a peripatetic writer of late, I have learned the particular value of certain of my tools.

While I do love my nice big desk top computer with its screen that I can actually see and its keyboard the fits my fingers, I have learned to love more portable devices as well.

The last few times I've traveled abroad I haven't taken my laptop. It weighs, conservatively, 7.5 lbs dripping wet and by the time I add its adapter and power cord, it's closer to 9 lbs. It also rarely cooperates when I want to get on the internet. So mostly I use it to write on at home because, as it won't get online, it's a perfect refuge from the temptation to read email or surf the net.

Enter the mini-notebook -- in my case the wonderful Asus eee pc, otherwise known as "eepie."

There are quite a few sub-notebooks on the market and I'm sure many of them are fine. But I've had my eepie for over 6 months now and I love it. It's been a lot of places, though not clear around the world like Anne Gracie's has been, and it hasn't let me down yet. It starts up in less than a minute. It stores as much as I need. And it weighs just over 2 lbs.

With the eepie I can work on my book wherever I am. I can carry it to record offices or libraries and not feel burdened. And I can get online almost anywhere. Generally speaking I don't leave home without it these days.

I love my flash drives, too. My current best friend is called Big Red because, well, he is. And he carries 8GB of my stuff around on his back and never complains. In fact he loads so quickly I don't even keep my book on my hard drive now. I just leave it on Big Red and move him from the eepie to the laptop to the desktop as the occasion arises.

Digital cameras have made a huge impact on my researching. I can take photos not just of scenery and places and people, but pages in books, newspapers and original documents of all sorts. Mine takes video, too, as most seem to these days. I find that while stills are great for certain details, the ambience is often better captured in a video. You get not only sights but sounds -- and if I'm feeling articulate I can add a voice over as well. And as it's no bigger than the palm of my hand, I can tuck it in my bag and barely know it's there.

Right before I left for England I bought a tiny Flip camcorder that takes an hour's worth of video. Yes, I know I said my digital camera does the same -- possibly even better because it's more sophisticated. But as I used up an SD card in Ireland taking too much video and then was stuck without space when I needed it, I decided a palm-sized camcorder was worth it. I used it extensively in Cannes -- capturing a lot of footage on a history tour of the city (complete with commentary). It gives me a feel of being "in" the setting. I wouldn't be without it.

Lest you think I've sold my soul to technology, let me assure you that I take along a full complement of pens (right now I'm partial to Staedtler triplus fineliners that I bought at a stationer's on the King's Road in Chelsea) because there are twenty different colors which means I have a pen for every mood (and the variety has proved enchanting to 8-year-olds with mono).

And I have lots of small (say 5" x 8") lined-paper notebooks. I use one as a sort of journal 'day book' to jot memos and references and ideas for the book that will flee if I give them half a chance. This is a catchall, but I wouldn't be without it.

I use another to keep my family history references that I intend to look up and record what I find. And I use a third for the current book. These don't spend the day in my bag, but I add to them as I discover I need to. And they preserve a sort of traveling record of what I've wanted to do and what I've actually done.

There are other things I find useful -- like my cell phone (and I'm thinking a world phone would be a better idea as mine was useless across the pond), and my wallet-sized tube map of London, and my tiny Time Out guide to Cannes and Nice and the French Riviera, which I read ahead of time and left home.

I needed to. I pack too heavy. Just ask Sophie Weston.

I need lessons from Sophie who took a tiny tote along to France and still had room to stuff 2 one-liter bottles of water into it when required to do so.

But I think it will be the clothes I cut down on, not any of the above.

Besides, however lightly I pack, it's impossible not to bring home books and magazines, even if they do weigh a ton. When you go into a bookstore and there are three magazines with cover stories on Hugh Jackman and two with Daniel Craig, I defy you to pack light!

What do you consider essential when you travel? Which would you leave out?

No Place Like Home

I have barely seen "home" in 6 weeks. It looks pretty much the way I remember it. The dogs were glad to see me. So was The Prof.

So were the complement of grandsons (three of the four in existence, the eldest being elsewhere) who were in the front yard when I got home from the airport. So was the new puppy who was following after the twins. I harbor a deep wish that said puppy will find a different home as the boys already have a dog (father of puppy), and this puppy looked like twins would be too much for him. Just my humble opinion.

It is rare however to feel that kids will be too much for a dog, so trust me on this.

Anyway, I am home. And I wrote 35,000 words in 3 weeks (amazing even myself, not to mention the 8 year old granddaughter), and I have one and a half scenes to go to finish Christo's book. Correction: to finish a draft of Christo's book.

It should be done in the morning. Then I can go back to the beginning and line up all the frogs (remember, we're in the year of the frog in McAllisterland; the ducks are taking the year off).

With luck Christo and Natalie can go winging off to the editor on Wednesday or Thursday. Early for once. Imagine that.

I'm also way behind on updating my website. Poor PJ, aka Antonides' Forbidden Wife, is halfway through his month on the shelves in UK and Ireland and I haven't even posted him on the sidebar.

I will stick him here, though so you know to look out for him if you are a UK/Ireland person in need of a good book.

I might even let PJ or Ally come and blog. What do you think? Should we invite them?

I'm going to bed with Christo now -- and finish his scene. Get your minds out of the gutter.

See you tomorrow (I hope).

Stranger than Fiction

When I knew I was not going to be home in time to vote, I did my civic duty and requested an absentee ballot.

This entailed faxing a request to my elections office to have one sent to me where I am currently staying, and then following it up with a real signed letter (in case I had faked the fax, I guess).

So I did.

And a week should have been sufficient because this is, after all, less than a thousand miles away and in the same country. Presumably, too, absentee ballots are sent first class mail because, well, you have to send them back that way, don't you?

I wouldn't know, of course, because I'm still waiting for mine to arrive.

When it didn't arrive yesterday -- the last possible day that it could have arrived so that I could have voted and had it postmarked (though the mail here arrives about 4 pm so it would have been cutting things close), I rang the elections office and asked about it.

"We sent it," the lady said. And she read me off the address they'd sent it to in "Templeton, Texas."

And I said, "No, it's Temple, Texas."

And she said, "Yes, Templeton, Texas."

And I said, "No, Temple."

She said, "That's what I said, Templeton."

And I said, "No. Temple. T.E.M.P.L.E."

And she said, "Yes, T.E.M.P.L.E.T.O.N."

Groundhog Day is alive and well and living in, er, some place in Texas.

So we tried again. "Temple. Two syllables, " I said. "No 'ton.'"

"Templeton?" she said with the barest hint of doubt this time.

"Temple," I said. "Tem-ple."

Silence. "Temple, Texas?" she said.

"Yes," I sighed.

Shuffle of paper. "But wehave the paper you sent. it says right here . . . 'Temple . . . Texas. Oh."

Yes.

"Well, we've got the zip code right, haven't we?"

Beats me. I haven't seen it yet. Still didn't arrive this afternoon. Not that it would have mattered if it had.

So, whoever wins, it's not my fault.

For the first time in my life, I didn't do it.

Role Models

Way back when I was a fledgling writer, I used to look at other writers' careers and think about whose I would like mine to emulate.

Hands down, it was always Tony Hillerman.

The talented, hard-working, steady, insightful gentleman who was, in my estimation, not only a wonderful, memorable novelist and essayist, but even more a genuinely fine human being, died a week ago at the age of 83.

His mysteries featuring Lt Joe Leaphorn and Sgt Jim Chee of the Navajo Tribal Police brought the reservation and its people to the attention of readers the world over.

His evocation of the American southwest -- its stark landscape, its disparate cultures and peoples, its religions and superstitions, its beauty and its violence -- has been celebrated for over a quarter of a century.

I read all his books as soon as they came out. They brought back childhood memories of frequent treks across the Navajo reservation en route from California to Colorado. They humanized the landscape for me. They peopled it with men and women who might have grown up in a different culture from mine, but who in very fundamental ways weren't alien at all.

That was one of the talents of Tony Hillerman. Through his work, he brought people together. He created characters you came to love as you came to know them. And I will always be glad that he gave Jim Chee a woman to love him and a potential happy ending in his last book.

If he had done no more than write wonderful books that stayed on the shelves year after year after year (something all writers aspire to), his would have been an admirable career.

But he did far more than just write. He was a generous man -- with his time and with his knowledge. He worked tirelessly for his fellow mystery writers, and even those of us in completely different genres were the beneficiaries of his wisdom and concern.

Twenty years ago I wrote a book called Gifts of the Spirit. The hero, who had been in several earlier books, was a half-Navajo, half-Anglo journalist called Chase Whitelaw. The story I wanted to tell about Chase and his family was going to take him to the reservation as an adult, to discover a part of his heritage he'd never really known.

I know about mixed blood heritage. I didn't know very much about Navajo culture. I needed a resource, a person who understood what a writer needed, and who understood the Navajo culture.

I needed Tony.

I didn't know him personally. But I contacted him, asked if he'd be willing to talk to me. Next thing I knew we were discussing my book at length on the phone. He listened to my story, made suggestions about what Chase's family would think, pointed me in the direction of the most useful books he thought I'd need.

We talked an hour. Maybe more.

When we hung up, he said, "Call me whenever you have more questions."

I said I didn't want to bother him. He said, "No bother. Writers help other writers."

They do. He did. We talked again later in the book.

And right before I sent Chase off to the publisher, I called Tony one last time and thanked him. He was glad to know it had worked out, happy that his books and suggestions had helped.

They had. It would not have been as good a book without his help. I would not be the writer I am without his guidance -- and his example.

I doubt very much that I'll have the writing career Tony Hillerman had. But if I can be half the human being he was, I'll be very well pleased.

Thank you, Tony, for wonderful books, for your wisdom and your time and your generosity. God speed.

Blogging Around

While I am granddaughter-sitting, my blogs (written last week) are set to appear on Monday.

The Pink Heart Society has my Male on Monday choice -- Michael Vartan, And the lovely people at We Write Romance are featuring Presents this month and have my blog on the joys of writing for that line scheduled for Monday as well.

Please stop by and leave comments if you are inspired. Always glad to hear from you -- here, there and everywhere.

Also I'm happy to report that my good friend Anne Gracie has been invited to join the Word Wenches on their blog as a regular contributor. She will be writing at least one post a month there, and her first one is also featured on Monday. So please stop by and say hi to Anne.

I'm happy to say that Christo and Natalie appear to have their act together. They had a tough time on Saturday when I threw out a couple of thousand hard fought words, but now that they are sorted, I think some of the words might actually come back.

It's interesting having the end already figured out. It makes what they're doing clearer to me. Less possibility for them to go hieing off to prospect for gold in Alaska for one thing. (I hope).

Still no pix. Sorry about that. I would have loved to post more Michael pix as I have been collecting them for months in anticipation of this blog. But I'd never get this one up if I tried adding a picture.

Did you notice that we've had visitors from 100 countries now here on the blog? It happened during this past week. I'm not even sure which the 100th country was. Togo? Libya? One of those two I think. But they had passed off my neocounter before I was able to discover which it was.

I'm really excited that people from so many places all over the world have dropped in to visit. Keep on coming!

Vanishing Act

I really didn't mean to be gone this long. But the internet connection I have at my granddaughter's house is, um, iffy at best. And as a result, every time I almost got a post going, the connection would vanish.

Which it may again post haste.

I have given up trying to post pictures. That is impossible. No connection would last long enough for one to upload. So you will just have to think about all you know about Cannes and imagine George Clooney or whoever you wish on the red carpet (which is more than you would get from my pictures anyway) until I am somewhere more reliably connected.

The good news is that Christo's book is going like a house afire. I've written 14000 words since Monday. Don't let my editor see this or she will banish me to Texas every time I have a book due.

I think it's that I had nearly a month where I couldn't get anything written, and the ideas kept building up. So they came tumbling out when I finally got going. Then there is the fact that, other than the sick 8 year old, there are no distractions here. Nothing that I specifically need to be doing -- except writing.

And then there's the odd fact that I seem to be writing this book front to back to middle. Which is to say, I wrote the first four chapters, left them with a pizza and couldn't get past it. To save my life, I couldn't.

So finally Monday I began in chapter nine and wrote it and chapter ten, and now I'm going back and filling in. But at least I know where I am going -- an unusual and happy occurence, believe me.

So wish me luck. Today I'm tackling Brazil. Another 1500 words would be a great blessing. Then again, I may have all weekend alone to write which would be somethng that has never happened in my life before. No dogs, even. Boggles the mind. Wonder if I can stand it.

Road Warriors R Us

I just got home and got my clothes washed, and I'm leaving again. This time I'm off to Texas to hang around my daughter's house while she goes to work all day and I stay with the grandkid with mono.

As the grandkid and I get little chance to bond on a regular basis due to the thousand mile or so gap in our proximity, I'm looking forward to it. But I'm sorry she's sick and that that's the reason I am going.

Still, it's a blessing to have the sort of job one can pick up and take along and do at someone else's house. So stand by. I've done all the blogs through the end of the month for Tote Bags and for We Write Romance and for The Pink Heart Society. The first comes on the 20th. And the last two are a week later -- on Monday, the 27th.

I'll try to update my own blog from Texas. That and Christo will be what I'll be doing while the grandkid is sleeping and reading and watching DVDs and working on family history.

In the meantime, here are a couple of photos from Cannes. I had intended to put more up -- and perhaps I'll be able to from down south.

But not tonight. Still packing.

One Good Hero

Not all heroes are Hugh-in-a-towel. Lovely as he is, some others are equally memorable.

One of them is Paul Newman -- a leading man who was more than just a pretty face. He was a heartthrob with a brain, a conscience and a talent for not just acting, but for making other people feel as if they, not he, were really the stars.

I grew up watching Paul Newman, frankly wishing he'd passed on some of the anti-heroes he played because I always wanted to like his characters. Now I can appreciate the challenge that appealed to him. At the time, they weren't my favorites.

My favorite, I suppose, was Butch Cassidy. But Lew Harper, his wry laconic detective, ran a close second. And when I saw Nobody's Fool I fell in love with him all over again.

I wrote a piece 'remembering Paul' for Friday Night Film Night at the Pink Heart (it's Friday by now somewhere) so if you want a trip down memory lane, recalling some of the reasons we should be grateful for the gift that was Paul Newman, drop by.

I'd love to hear which of his films you enjoyed. Gunnar might even be persuaded to make me part with a book or two if he likes your answer!