Let's Do Some Interviews

I love interviewing people. As a historian I’ve interviewed war veterans, people who survived the Depression, Holocaust survivors and even the relatives of the famous WWII traitor, Axis Sally (Mildred Gillars). Now I enjoy interviewing authors, artists, folks in publishing, and just about anyone else who crosses my path! (Barbara Walters, move over sweetie!)

Now here's a dude I would really love to interview!

However, until now, I’ve never interviewed a character in a book. You may think it’s really weird to interview someone you believe is merely a figment of someone’s imagination but let me assure you it’s not weird at all: there’s no character in fiction that is truly fictive.

Ask Papa Hemingway: I think he went drinking, fishing or whorin' with all his marvelous characters!

Great characters live and breathe as surely as you and I. Authors give these wondrous individuals flesh and blood so that they can be introduced to you -- but I assure you they are wholly formed spirits before they ever enter an author’s heart and mind. As a matter of fact, I believe authors are like mediums or other paranormalists and they serve as mere conduits between these extraordinary spirits and you, the reader.

Through us they speak.

My next post will be an interview with Lt. Del Carter of the Chicago Police Department. Del is one of the main characters in “January Moon.” In fact, my entire series of books (well, soon to be a "series") has been named after him (the “Del Carter Calendar Series”). I'm also going to interview a few other personalities in this series and, if possible, may even branch out and interview the most important personalities in other books, as well. But for now I'm stickin' with the people I know and love best.

This is obviously Gary Sinise; he "kinda' sorta' almost" looks like Del Carter

And this of course is John Cusack; he also "kinda' sorta' almost"
looks like Del Carter...

I met Del when he and at least twenty other people pulled up in front of my house (in three huge motor homes) and pounded aggressively on the front door. It was 6 in the morning on a freezing January day and I’d only been up about ten minutes – the coffee was still brewing and it was still black as night outside. You can well imagine how startled I was by all the damn commotion at my front door. I was still in my nightgown, for God’s sakes.

I threw on the porch light and looked out the window and couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a crowd out there.

What the hell? Who were these people?

“Maureen, let us in,” one said. Another barked “Yeah, hurry up, we’re freezing our damn asses out here for Chri’sakes” (that person turned out to be Fred Wiley.) “Please, Maureen,” one of the women said, “I need to use the bathroom.”

Gypsies. I was being invaded by a tribe of gypsies. Who else? I’d never seen Jehovah’s Witnesses show up with half their church, especially pre-dawn!

Well they looked
better than this
but you get
the idea...

I started to explain I didn’t know them from Adam, it was 6 in the morning, I wasn’t dressed, and I didn’t want to be unfriendly but, well… go away! They could get hot coffee and use the washrooms down the road at the Mini Mart.

“No, look, you have to let us in…” several said more forcefully and when one of them started to open the front door (God! I was sure it had been double locked) I threw myself against the door and cried, “Stop it! Get the hell off my porch!” but the sheer weight and power of the guy pushing the door open (that proved to be Mack) overwhelmed me and in a panic I screamed “I’ll call the police!” and several men replied “We ARE the damn police…”

And then they just seemed to pour into the house!

One of the women who’d come into the house with the men snapped, “Oh stop it! You’re scaring her!” and another said “I’m an attorney and I can assure you will not be harmed” (she was a very impressive, statuesque looking black woman; she had a very take-charge attitude). Then another woman who reminded me of a very tired looking but still beautiful Susan Sarandon tried to soothe me; she put her arms around my astonished quivering body and said quite kindly “Maureen, honey, I told them this wasn’t the way to introduce ourselves but, I swear, no one has any manners any more…” (I think that was Louise, if memory serves) and then this horrible monster of a woman (she was bigger than most of the men and had a face that reminded me of a Rottweiler) pushed people aside and said something snide but one of the cops (or maybe it was one of the FBI agents, I forget) barked at her to sit down and shut up. The next thing I knew Del and a beautiful young woman he introduced as his fiancé, Jess, were pouring everyone coffee while Louise was dispensing jumbo slices of Sara Lee coffeecake that she hauled out of at least three shopping bags she brought with her (it soon became apparent she could feed an Army on 5 minutes' notice). In the meantime, several brawny guys struggled to jockey a wheelchair with a robust-appearing middle-aged man in it through the front doorway and into the living room. Jess called him "Dad" and he graciously introduced himself to me as Frank Farrell and quickly explained he'd once been a Chicago "copper" but took a bullet and that's how he ended up in the chair. He looked around the house and said rather generously "nice place you got here" and wheeled himself over near the fireplace where one of the largest dogs I have ever seen had already taken up residence close to the warmth of the fire. My own never-before-intimidated German shepherd stared at this other hound in mute and horrified silence -- and I understood the feeling.

It took almost 40 minutes for the motor homes to empty out and for everyone to get their coffee, accept a slice of coffee cake, make appropriate small talk, and find comfortable seats in the living room. They pulled chairs in from the kitchen and dining room and even grabbed my desk chair in my office and after allowing me a few minutes to change into some sweats, brush my teeth and throw some water on my face… and pour some Jameson’s into my coffee (which a few of them eagerly accepted and poured into their own cups too) I settled down and, not much knowing how to begin just asked “what the hell’s going on?” (I couldn’t think of any better entrée, I’m sorry. It’s my Chicago-style bluntness.)

I mean, honest to God, what the hell else could I say? 
Over the next four months those astonishing people came and went every day of the week, at all hours, and made themselves at home... they each, in his or her own way, had a story to tell about how their individual stories were intricately woven together into the most remarkable tale – a tale they had chosen me to memorialize. A tale they wanted titled “January Moon.”

They laughed and cried and argued among themselves and not everyone shared the exact same memory of the same event but, they explained to me, it was my job to sort it all out, work out the inconsistencies, and produce a cohesive story that left nothing out or unexplained. They had chosen me, they explained, because I’m a historian. They were of the opinion that only a person trained in history could process such a detailed story and make sense of it all. I suggested that a journalist should be able to do the same but this didn’t fly.

“I don’t like journalists,” Wiley stated bluntly. “I never read a damn story about a cop or perp in any paper anywhere that ever came near the truth.”


This is one of my favorite actors, Pat "Muse" Watson
The man is AMAZING
I told Wiley I think he looks like just like Pat but Wiley's difficult sometimes
(you'll see) and he said "that's bull..." but
Eliot and Jess agree with me
I'm not sure what Pat would think, maybe one day I'll ask him

That very impressive black women I already mentioned, who introduced herself as Eliot Ness, reminded Wiley “You always liked Walter Cronkite and Bill Moyers, honey” to which he replied “Well, Cronkite’s dead and I think Moyers retired and everyone else works for Murdock and with that I rest my case, babe.” I was immediately struck by how they clicked; it was obvious they were a pair. She rolled her eyes as if to say, "I can't take this man anywhere" and he winked at me as if to say "Ain't she somethin'?"


I know you think this is Queen Latifah... and it is;
but if her hair was shorter and had a few whisps of gorgeous silver gray
woven throughout, well I swear she'd be a dead ringer for the stunning Eliot Ness

So, with that little ice breaker we all settled down and began our remarkable collaboration.

These fascinating people honored me with their candid honesty and trust; to a person, they all had a remarkable ability to confront the truths and lies, graces and sins, of their own lives. In each of these people I found a courage and insight into life that I had not otherwise known – about them, as well as about myself.

I certainly tried my best to honor their trust and I’m very happy they were pleased with the outcome. They so liked how I helped them write “January Moon” that we’ve agreed many of us would work together again. They assured me “January Moon” was just the beginning of their story and, true to their word, we are now collaborating on “March Storm” – a continuation of the saga begun in “January Moon.”

Over the course of the next few posts, I’ll share with you interviews with a few of the main characters in “January Moon” and “March Storm.” I think you’re going to really like these people. I would find it rather remarkable if you don’t. In fact, my guess is you’re going to want to read “January Moon” immediately so you can begin to participate in these interviews and ask these characters your own questions. They have assured me they would welcome hearing from you.

And BTW: if any of you doubt the veracity of how these people showed up at my home on that frigid January morning – well shame on you! – and double damn shame on you if you fancy yourself a writer and don’t believe every word I’ve written here!

Facebook: My View from the Edge

I was on Facebook several years and, to be honest, I didn’t like it. OK, maybe I didn’t “get it” and that was the problem but I really thought it was lame. Well, it was lame – at least for me and I understand that now. For the other people it was wonderful and a lot of fun and also obviously speaking to whatever their needs were at the time but for me it wasn’t a good fit.

See, they were into things I had no interest in, stuff that left me cold, things that did not speak to my heart.

There was nothing inherently wrong or even weird about what those folks were doing on Facebook; for the most part they were playing games and yakking it up about their families and friends and what they planned for the weekend. It was harmless and pleasant but it just wasn’t me (not that I’m not harmless and pleasant exactly; hmmm…. maybe I should rephrase that… oh the hell with it, this is a blog, not my literary opus -- deal with it). 

Ah! Nothin' like a big meaty bone!



I was talked into trying Facebook again about ten months ago and rather grudgingly I did, but this time I went in with an entirely different attitude. I was looking for meat. Stuff I could sink my teeth into, bones I could suck the marrow out of, grizzle I could masticate to death. In short: substance, not fluff.

I wasn’t particularly looking for friends, new or long-lost, and I wasn’t particularly looking for acquaintances. I really wanted to use Facebook to help me follow the news -- track and monitor the great political divide in this country. Oh, I could find the news by myself; that wasn’t my problem.  I wanted to follow opinions about the news and possibly share in those discussions.

I’ve never bought what the right wing conservatives in the country are selling so it was a natural fit for me to align with groups and individuals sharing news links and opinions from a liberal left perspective. They’re not always 100% on the money but at least they don’t give me hives. The other side does.

What is it about some people that gives me the hives?

I need to watch the right wing, of course, because it’s what they’re doing that I think warrants watching but reading about it through the filter of left leaning analyses buffers it for me. I still get infuriated but the sense that I’m not alone mitigates against my despair.

Then I branched out and began to meet other writers, both of fiction and not, and also made a deliberate attempt to find people I could admire and learn from and this opened up even more doors. Before I’d friend request someone or accept their request I’d study their Info page on Facebook and/or their Wall and if we weren’t somehow compatible I’d move on. This could be a little problematic in cases where people block this information from people who aren’t yet their friends but I’d then consider who their other friends were; if we shared many in common I felt our relationship would work.

Today I really believe that I’ve found 1000 of the most absolutely fantastic human beings in the world on Facebook. How can you be friends with over 1000 people? I know it sounds absurd but you know what? You can. We all don’t communicate all the time about everything and some of us are far more connected than others but I have to tell you as a group I think those 1000-plus people could move mountains.

I know they’ve often moved me in the most unimaginable ways.

Facebook represents many things about where I am in life right now. For example, I’m not a gamer – in all the ways that is meant. I’ve never been a big game board or card player. I like chess but haven’t played it in years and given the chance to play it again I’d rather just sit and talk to my chess opponent.  If talk is not an option, then just give me a book or magazine.

See what I mean?

If you want to discuss politics I’m all in – but I don’t want to listen to the politics of hate and fear. Then I’m out. If you want to talk about your family and I already like you (because we don’t play games and we share a similar world view), then I’m all in. But you have to get to that point with me because I want reciprocity and if I don’t like you then there’s not much I’m going to share with you about my personal life and family (read that as: I will share nothing at all).

I don’t think I need to say I’m into kink or bungee jumping and I’m not looking for anyone to save me for the Lord on Facebook (and I resent anyone who tries).

I know that it’s absolutely mandatory that authors create a sophisticated social networking world; I’ve heard the mantra and I know how it works and when I waded into the Facebook waters this was certainly on my mind but it wasn’t at the top of my mind and that’s the truth. I thought that some day it could very well be a tool to promote myself as an author and my books but I wanted to become familiar with Facebook first and I definitely wanted a different way to collect and filter news and possibly connect with some like-minded people.

Let me explain something about my new life as a fiction writer. Writing fiction is very new to me. I mean really, really new – at least as an adult. I’ve been dreaming up stories since I could just about walk and that’s no joke… well, more truthfully, I was spinning tales before I could write them down but it worked out because I had the luxury of owning my very own scribe. His name was Roo and he was a man of color (ratty brown furry color to be exact – the kind that would cover the body of a stuffed kangaroo).



My Roo!



Family lore records I was about 2.5 years old when I started dictating my stories to Roo. My father was an attorney and my mother a legal secretary and sometimes she’d step in and help him (as when his secretary was on vacation). I was fascinated with my mother’s ability to take shorthand as she listened to my father. I mimicked this and began dictating to my beloved Roo. The thing was, as my astonished folks soon realized, I really was dictating a story, not just kiddy gibberish. My mother captured some of those stories but sadly they are now lost to me; I have no idea where they ended up although I know she kept them on a steno pad for years and years. She kept this pad with many of the things she cherished under the table pads in the 2^nd drawer of the dining room buffet (makes sense, right?). Roo is also no more. He fell apart in the washing machine (I still mourn his loss). 

Does this professor look like a guy who would appreciate
a good yarn? Not likely.
If you think so, just try explaining
how the boys at the frat party ate your thesis.



Life took me on various other trajectories and I ended up (among other things) as a historian. As you may well guess, one does not boast about an ability to draft good fiction while simultaneously trying to earn bona fides as a credible historian. At least this is how it was at the university I attended. The History Department at my alma mater frowns on flights of fancy and other inventions and I’m sure you can appreciate why (unless of course you’re Michelle Bachmann, Sarah Palin or Glenn Beck but let’s not go there now…).





(This man is NOT a historian.)

But I digress... so, anyway, yesterday an aspiring young author contacted me and asked how I used Facebook to promote myself as an author. The truth is, my friend, I don’t.

But what I think I’ve done – what I hope I’ve done – is promote myself as a person.

I look serious here don't I?

Maybe even find myself as a person.

I have not been able to separate myself as the historian and political commentarian (is that a word?) from the newer persona of the author of January Moon, the first book in the Del Carter Calendar Series. Many people would advise me that this is a mistake.

It may well be – for them; I think it’s not a mistake for me.

I know I could create a writer’s reader fan page on Facebook and I did begin to create a page for January Moon but haven’t completed it. My heart’s just not there; it’s really not. I don’t want to talk about my writing all the time or even my beloved books and I know that’s a problem, especially for an indie who needs to constantly hustle and promote.

How can I explain this? Sure, I use my Facebook Wall to promote this blog and other articles I write elsewhere (such as The Pragmatic Progressive Forum & Opednews) and I also discuss January Moon and my reviews and my upcoming books as well. The fact is, however, I love discussing history and politics and I love following the news and it’s very important for me to watch trends and try to understand the many conflicting currents that dance over the American landscape.

I think that will always be how I use Facebook and doing so is necessary for me as a writer of fiction because my fiction is heavily embedded with observations and critiques about the many hot-button issues permeating society. In January Moon I wrote about FGM and domestic terrorism, cults and religious extremism, racism and madness, as well as families and love and loss. In March Storm I’m carrying over many of those themes and also wandering into areas about animal abuse, human trafficking, gay rights, and even Mother Nature and climate change.

When I send out a request to my Facebook friends to keep their eyes open for news about dog fighting or sex trafficking or gay bashing or even alpaca farming, I will receive fantastic news items from all over the country, even the world, in hours.

In that way my Facebook friends contribute to my writing in a remarkable way and invest their time in my efforts and become a part of the process. I’ve been floating some cover designs for March Storm on my Facebook page and that’s been fun and created some helpful feedback. I cherish this connection and I suspect many of them do as well.

But the fiction is a sidebar to the larger picture which, and I think we’re getting back to that young author’s question, is all about defining me as a person and the joys of building relationships with others. There is absolutely no way I could interact with so many people on a daily basis were it not for Facebook. I find this amazing and I love it.

I can’t advise another writer how to mine the depths of social networking to help sell books but I’d like to suggest it’s possible to use social networking to help define yourself as a person.

BTW: This picture was taken August '09 and that's Trooper at 10.5 weeks. It's a lousy pic of both of us but it will have to do... it's the only one we took that day. I always take lousy pictures so for me this was nothing new but Trooper was gorgeous! He was naturally photogenic and liked to pose. Trooper came and had to leave so that Shadow could come and I could write about Wolf. Their story is at the top of this blog, titled "Trooper, Shadow & Wolf."

Take care.

One Lame-Ass Blog Post

Mick's List

I have a list as long as your arm of things I need to do today...

Why can't I get motivated?

Mick's Whirling Mind

I need to get back to writing "March Storm" and would like to have a cover ready before I finish the book but the cover doesn't seem to be coming together for me as well as I'd like and that's certainly not the fault of anyone but me because I know I've been all over the road... I'm sort of all twisted up about it too. Know what I mean?

Bat-Shit Crazy People

There are interviews to give and to be written (I know many great authors and other interesting people and want to introduce them to you...) and I have emails to answer and generate and I started an article several days ago about The Comstock Laws (the true story about the man who decided to conduct a sexual purity campaign in America) that I need to finish because I already promised it to the editor of another blog. It's a great article and very timely because a bat-shit crazy group of people calling themselves "Personhood USA" are now warring on our reproductive rights. Who the hell are these people?

And my beloved "January Moon" needs some attention; I need to get back on schedule with its promotion...which reminds me I have a date tomorrow with some lovely people in a book club who've invited me to visit and discuss "January Moon." I'm thrilled about that and think it will be a lot of fun but I need to call and get directions again.
I had a directions here somewhere... I can't find a damn thing on my desk.

Did I mention I need to get my hair done and also find a card for 50th Wedding Anniversary this Friday? 

Oh yeah, and we have dear friends coming to visit next week and more dear friends are planning a get together for all of us to get together... and I have a few things I need to do to get ready and I'm also trying to put together another get together with old friends from grade school & high school....and wow, why are these things either feast or famine? Four Hundred Years of Loneliness and all at once it's Party Time! Isn't that always how it goes?  Especially in June?

And then there's the none-too small matter that I also need to get a plumber about a wee leak under the sink and find the time to pull some weeds and kill some dust bunnies lurking in dark shadows thoughout the house.

Mick's Monstrous Weeds

THE GILLS HAVE THE LARGEST, UGLIEST WEEDS IN AMERICA -- HERE, TAKE A LOOK IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME.

And this NO laughing matter... one of them attacked the dog last night. The damn thing jumped up off the lawn and wrapped itself around Shadow's tail and almost dragged him into the netherworld (true story).

But we're not half as worried about the Killer Weeds as we are about the Monster Dust Bunnies.... We had four cats and now we're down to three.  Worrisome, very worrisome...

Mick's Monstrous Dust Bunnies

I want to do a blog tour and don't even know what the hell that is (do I need to pack walking shoes?) and I think we're growing a new form of penicillin in the crisper in the 'fridge and it just dawned on me I think I need to give the dog his heartworm prevention meds today and let's see... what else?

This is the 7th and I don't think I've paid all the bills yet... God, I'm a mess.

 And Twitter. What the hell is that really all about? I was going to experiment with it but forgot why or how and I know I need to go to my website and study some stats and share an idea I have with my web team... and I'm wondering why we didn't hear from Shaun over the weekend. We'd better give him a call... among other things, we need to start discussing our trip to visit him up in Maine this summer. Hmmm... his father better get on the ball with our travel plans.


Have I ever told you how much I love Maine?

Here's a delightful family picture of me having fun in Maine last summer. 

OOOPS, wrong picture... OK, here's the picture of me having fun in Maine last summer. 



(Woke you up with that one, didn't I?)



OK, so that's how I MIGHT have looked to you if you were really drunk and really lonely back when I was 21 and lived in Ft. Lauderdale.

And here's how I REALLY looked -- half-geezed after a day at the beach -- relaxing at a lovely restaurant near the ocean when I was in Maine last summer.

Doncha' think Ursula and I could be twins? 

Well, it's now 1:30 in the afternoon and I've successfully persuaded myself I've just worked pretty damn hard writing this post even if it is hands-down the most lame-ass thing I've ever written in my entire life... and you know, there's no time to do a rewrite because there's a hammock in the yard calling my name and I see Al has his eye on it too and I need to wrap this up and beat him out to the yard.

But I'll make myself feel quite responsible because I'll take my work with me, right out to the hammock. Here's my plan: because so many people say I write like Michael Connolly I finally downloaded "The Lincoln Lawyer" to my Kindle but haven't been able to snatch it away from Al... he's been really engrossed in it and told me over coffee this morning, "Yeah, it's true. You and Connolly write a lot alike." I really need to see if this is true. What better excuse to bump Al from both his claims to the hammock and the Kindle?

"Honey, I have work to do..."

Of course, now that you've read this post there's no chance in hell you're buying the idea that I write anything like Connolly but, trust me, that's what's being said.

Do I think it's true?

I have no idea... that's why I need to grab the Kindle, hit the hammock, and put everything else on hold.

An indulgence? No way!

It's called "research" my friends! 


You understand, right?

Of course you do!

The Del Carter Calendar Series: Introduction

One of the things I hear most often, and this is also something that seems to be repeated in the many excellent reviews about January Moon, is that readers say they want to jump right into a sequel. Obviously, there can be no greater praise than hearing "Wow; I want more!"

I'm not sure it gets any better than that for an author, ever. Think of it as Fireworks for the Soul!

January Moon is the first book in the Del Carter Calendar Series and the second book, March Storm, will be released late summer/early fall 2011. And before you ask: there is no February.

I was in the middle of writing January Moon when I realized the story had enough fascinating and compelling characters, as well as interesting sub-plots, to spawn several books and so I began to structure January Moon as the first story in a continuing saga about the key families in the book and their interwoven lives. Additionally, as the story continued to develop it became very clear that there were some issues that could be left open and developed in future books, and so I began to see January Moon as the first in a trilogy.

However, I quickly realized, based on the wonderful feedback and numerous questions I received from readers, that January Moon could be the incubator for more books than three.  Although I seriously doubt I'll write twelve, I'm fairly confident I can write four to six. So, at some point in time I decided to take a leap of faith and decided to publish January Moon and whatever sequels may follow under the bold and broad umbrella "The Del Carter Calendar Series."

Del Carter is a central character in January Moon and obviously I'm naming the entire series after him. He is one of the characters who generates the most curiosity; readers ask me if he was patterned after a real cop (at first, no; later, yes); if he's my favorite character (I have no favorites; they're my children and I love them all, even the creeps); and (I love this question!) who I'd choose to play Del Carter in a movie (maybe John Cusack).

One of the most common questions I receive concerns whether I would ever turn the book into a movie and to be honest I don't know anything about making movies or writing screenplays so certainly that's not something I'm going to be able to steer forward by myself. Certainly I'd welcome discussing it with someone who does possess that talent but from the little I know about the movie industry I'd say I'm not holding my breath. Folks have asked me if I can see January Moon as a movie; my answer is "of course!" but at the moment I'm fully focused on the next two or three books in the saga.

The absolute hands-down most common question about January Moon concerns the heroic dog, Wolf. Everyone loves Wolf!

Wolf gets a lot of fan mail and he’s received two marriage proposals, too.  There’s a well-built Golden Retriever with a two-story dog house and an owner with a bass boat somewhere up in Minnesota who has her eye on him and she’s been coming on strong. Then there’s a real sweetie-pie Border collie in Pennsylvania who has the run of a 100-acre piece of property and responsibility for a small herd of sheep and she’s also in hot pursuit.

I routinely pass this kind of information on to my real dog, Shadow, who was my inspiration for Wolf and he's quite impressed with himself now; he’s getting a real fat head actually. We’ve noticed that at book signings he doesn’t correct anyone when they call him Wolf and I’m sure he expects to play the part if January Moon is made into a movie but I didn’t realize how seriously he was taking the marriage proposals until he asked me this morning, "so, which way's Minnesota?"

I told him "Fuggetaboutit; you ain't leavin' the yard" and now he's sulking next to the gazebo as I type this; my guess is he’d rather have access to a good bass boat than a bunch of sheep (or maybe he just prefers blondes). 

You can read more about Wolf and Shadow and Trooper -- the dog who tied Wolf and Shadow together for me -- in the short story titled "Trooper, Shadow & Wolf" right here on this blog (there’s a tab titled “Trooper, Shadow & Wolf” at the top of the blog).

Down the road I'll probably discuss Wolf more fully but right now I'm going to introduce you the other major characters in January Moon -- beginning with Lt. Franklin Delano Carter ("Del").

Beginning Wednesday – stay tuned!

March Storm (Sequel to January Moon)

This is a revision of my earlier post to update you on the progress I've made creating the cover for March Storm! Fun Stuff!

March Storm is the second book in the Del Carter Calendar Series that began with January Moon (and yes, there is NO February!).

I've been working on the cover and here's a DRAFT (we're still tweaking it) but what I know already is that Wolf is a keeper; everyone adores Wolf! I think, however, we're going to shrink his image down a bit so the twister is more prominent. I just love this picture of the twister; we acquired it from NOAA. It's a real picture and what I find so unique about it is that it has this really weird salmon/peachy-pink sky -- not the usual tornado greenish black sky at all. But there's going to be nothing typical about the storms in March Storm, whether they be nature made or of man's own venal nature.

Another thing we'll modify in this draft is we're going to keep the font and pitch on this cover the same as the font and pitch we used for the title January Moon and my name on the cover of  January Moon.

I'm working with Donna Casey for this cover; Donna created the cover for January Moon (and for that cover we used the evocative winter moon shot that my friend Cindy Newlin O'Connor, who's a professional photographer, offered me for the cover). Donna (DigitalDonna.com) and I are clearly forging an understanding of what I like to convey on a book cover. I'm more and more firmly embracing the "less is more" theory and Donna has helped me become more knowledgeable about what I like and don't like. (Thanks, Donna!)

So, now that I've shown you a draft of the cover for March Storm, let's talk about the book itself!

If you've read January Moon you already know that Lt. Del Carter, a Chicago homicide detective, had his mind and soul messed up by the notorious serial killer, Bradley Mommsen (the United Nations Serial Killer). Early in January Moon we learn Del has fantasies about turning in his badge, chucking the city life, and exploring a saner life in the country. Del even mentions he might like to be an alpaca farmer, an idea that his lover, Jessica Farrell, tends to think is absurd. Jess enjoys her position as a history professor at Loyola University and isn't thrilled about the prospect of being a farmer's wife.

Well, if Del was feeling burned out and screwed up before the "Big Bitch" she-monster Rae Hart entered his life, you can imagine how he feels at the end of January Moon. Jess, of course, has also looked evil in the eye and barely survived the encounter. So, as the curtain goes down in January Moon, Del has told the Mayor of Chicago and the Superintendant of Police to go to hell and it's pretty clear that Del's fantasy about a quiet life in the country with a small herd of gentle alpacas is suddenly looking pretty damn nice to the badly beaten and scarred Jess.

******

In March Storm we find Del and Jess married and living with their two small children in LeSueur (pronounced luh SOOR), Illinois. LeSueur is a picturesque river town about 100 miles south of Chicago. LeSueur was founded as a Catholic mission by the French Jesuit Jean-Michel Le Sueur in 1678, three years after the more famous Jesuit Jacques Marquette established a similar mission roughly 100 miles away near present day Utica. 

English, Irish and Germans followed the French to LeSueur and the trappers gave way to farmers,  merchants and small businessmen. Over the years LeSueur tenaciously clung to life through floods, tornadoes, droughts and pestilence. Today it's a beautiful area that's known for its outdoor recreation opportunities along the river. 

LeSueur is also known for some utterly bizarre local history. The LeSueur Historical Society likes to stress how Lincoln and Douglas almost debated in the town square in 1858 but the venue was changed at the last minute. Less serious types like to entertain with the tale about Mrs. Beatrice Hoopswaller's 1937 murder conviction regarding the peculiar disappearance of her husband Hal.

Beatrice’s life began to unfold after a small hairy toe with an ugly yellow nail was found in one of the forty-two apple-mincemeat pies she happily donated to St. Vincent’s Annual Christmas Season Bake Sale. As luck would have it, the pie slice with the nauseating toe ended up on Sheriff McGinty's dessert plate. Mrs. Emmeline Boudreau died of food poisoning three days later, a matter that was largely attributed to her gluttonous passion for mincemeat and appples. As the story goes, Mrs. Boudreau had virtually inhaled the whole pie by herself before she heard the bad news about the toe. 

Counting the Sheriff's and Mrs. Boudreau's pies, thirty-seven pies were recovered or accounted for, which left a certain unsettling mystery about the other five. 

Whichever way you look at it, the story about Beatrice's pies trumps anything about the planned Lincoln-Douglas debate. 

LeSueur has always been and primarily remains a farm community; the few manufacturing, industrial, and service-related jobs in the area have traditionally supported the farming community, nearby Forest View Community College (where Jess now teaches) and the LeSueur Nuclear Power Plant.

When the United States Geological Society announced it was funding a center for geological research at the community college the local press hardly noticed and failed to ask any probitive questions. Curiously, none of the employees at the nuclear power plant seemed to care either. This was a vast relief to the USGS who feared the local population might begin to ask a lot of pointed questions, especially after it was obvious all the way to Milwaukee that the New Madrid Fault seemed a bit perkier of late.

People were much more interested in the Wal-Mart store going up at the outskirts of town. Some people, however, insisted on talking about Mickey Rivera's strange disappearance while others preferred to focus on persistent rumors about corruption in the local sheriff's department.

Every now and then somone would unwisely ask if anyone had heard the rumors about dog fighting or human trafficking that occasionally circulated around LeSueur, but wiser people quickly changed the subject.

Del and Jess soon learn that the picture-perfect farm community they've chosen for their new home has more skeletons than a cemetery and more criminal behavior than even a homicide dick from Chicago could begin to imagine. They'll be even more amazed when Mother Earth begins to show the area a thing or two.

In March Storm, Del and Jess and many of the same folks that readers loved in January Moon find themselves in the middle of small town corruption and scandal, dog fighting, human trafficking, and murder. Oh, and did I also mention flood waters and an earthquake? 

RECIPE FOR EASY APPLE-MINCEMEAT PIE (WITHOUT THE TOE)

1 jar (1 lb.) prepared mincemeat
2 c. canned applesauce
1/2 c. light brown sugar
1 tsp. lemon juice
1/2 tsp. lemon rind
Pastry for 9 inch double crust pie
1 tbsp. butter

Combine mincemeat, applesauce, brown sugar, lemon juice and rind. Mix well. Roll out half of pastry and line 9 inch pie pan. Pour in applesauce - mincemeat mixture. Dot with butter. Roll out remainder of pastry. Cut in strips and arrange lattice fashion over filling. Trim and flute pastry to make standing edge. Bake at 425 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes or until golden brown. Serve warm or cold. Makes 6 to 8 servings.

Bon appetit!

This post will be permanently displated in a tab titled March Storm

Yesterday was wonderful!

I want to thank all of the Wonderful People who came out to meet me at Barnes & Noble Sunday, May15th.

 

Yesterday I basked in the glory of a generosity of spirit and freely offered friendship that was truly overwhelming. I was -- and remain -- amazed and exhilarated.

Our local Barnes & Noble in Bradley was swamped with wonderful people who came out on an unseasonably cold and wet May Sunday afternoon to support nine local authors, myself included in that number, and it was heartwarming. (I'm wondering if the weather was a boon for us since it wasn't a great day to garden or golf!)

The other authors were: J.L. Alkire, Margie Black, Yvonne Conner, Steve Goreham, Patti McKenna, Helen Macie Osterman, Gregory Thompson and Alan Webber. We seem to have had a mix of fiction writers in a range of genres, as well as a nearly equal measure of non-fiction writers who wrote about a variety of historical and current topics. From what I could tell, we were a very interesting group and there was a mix of debut authors as well as those who've written several books. To be honest, the layout was a problem; a few of these authors were placed at tables that were out of sight in other areas around the store. Half of us were luckier because we were right in front.

Location, location, location...

I was so busy meeting people at my own table that I had little time to meet all of the other authors. As it turned out I only met the authors who were in closest proximity to me. The wonderful truth is that we were all swamped by steady streams of people interested in our books and ourselves but we agreed that we'd like to get together in the future to learn more about each other, our writing, and lend one another the emotional support all writers need.

Sales were brisk and steady and I think we could have extended the event longer. In fact, although the event was technically over at 3:00 many of us were still talking to folks for almost an hour after that (I didn'd mind; we had a real party atmosphere going on there!).

My husband Al hovered around, in and out of the store. We took Shadow with us (that dog lives to travel; he adores it!) and although Al never brought him into the store he did walk him over to the front door where Shadow proved once again that he's a perfect gentleman and has the poise of a natural-born celebrity.

It never takes long for people to ask me about the dog on the cover of January Moon (and those who read the book eventually ALWAYS want to talk about "the dog") so at one point (when I saw Al and Shadow in front of the store, standing in front of the gigando picture window that serves as a wall for the store) it was great fun to say:

"Well, actually the dog that inspired me when I wrote about Wolf is my dog Shadow and, as a matter of fact, he's right outside the door now..."

Shadow is such a dead ringer for the dog on the cover of the book -- and so majestic in real life -- that sometimes people actually gasped when they turned around and saw him.

"Oh my God!" I heard someone say, "he's gorgeous!"

At one point I walked to the huge picture window and when Shadow saw me at the window he froze, ears straight up, riveted and at perfect attention... nothing could have diverted his gaze. He was locked on me like a heat-seeking missile.

He looked at me and I knew he was asking, "What do you want me to do? Are you alright? I swear to God I'll come in and get you -- I'll go right through this damn window if you need me -- I swear..."

He is so much like Wolf in January Moon (I should more correctly say that Wolf is so much like Shadow).

I smiled and cooed and Shadow went nuts, tail wagging and happy. He'd been given the queue: I was alright and he could relax. Shadow did not need to protect me from monsters as Wolf had needed to protect Jess in January Moon.

I heard one lady say to a friend, "I read January Moon and also read her story about her dogs and now I really get it."

It's easy to get once you look into Shadow's intelligent face.

Another person asked if I thought Shadow might be more famous than me one day which made me laugh and reply, "Well, I know he expects to be on Oprah but I'm not sure he plans to bring me with..."

Some random thoughts & observations:

1. I live in a wonderful area with wonderful people and plan to make an effort to get them to know them better. My new found friends assure me that this is absolutely going to happen because they intend to make sure I become more involved in the community. Awesome.

2. I was amazed at how many people came just to meet me after they already read January Moon; I guess I never expected that people would show up with books just to get my autograph. Some people brought their Kindles and Nooks and showed me that January Moon was downloaded on their e-readers -- which made us all realize you can't "sign" an e-book & caused one man to ask that I sign something else instead (some promo material for the book).

3. I didn't keep track but I bet I might have signed almost as many pre-bought books as new and that's pretty amazing (and this doesn't include the folks who downloaded January Moon on an e-reader right there in front of me in the store -- it seemed important for some people to show me that and it was indeed fun).

4. So many people brought in pre-bought books and January Moon on e-readers that I made a note to self: "check sales reports again" because it almost made me think my numbers were off! Or, was this all just a fluke -- a local phenomenon?

5. At least four people drove to Bradley from pretty far away (let's put it this way: I wouldn't have made the drive). One woman and her two daughters came from Joliet and that's a damn good poke down the road. (It was wonderful meeting you and your daughters, Sheila! You were a surprise!)

6. Two women told me they wouldn't have believed "a woman wrote January Moon" if they didn't know better. Neither could explain this but one did say her husband read January Moon and "he said you write like a man." She added "we never like the same books but we both liked January Moon" and she brought me her copy to sign. She said her son was reading it on Kindle.

7. A man heard this conversation (above in #6) and said he didn't read "women writers." The ladies at my table jumped all over the poor guy and I had to save him from some feminist indignation. I told him what male cops and other guys have said about my book and showed him Denny Banahan's review in the front of the book. He decided to buy the book but didn't want me to sign it. He asked if I'd take it back if he got home and didn't like it! I said "Sure, what the hell..." (I don't think that's gonna' happen but it it does I'll let you know!)

8. I was obviously fairly clueless about what to write when signing a book. I sort of feel I should personalize each book but that's pretty hard to do when you've known someone for all of 15 seconds... also, I'm easily distracted and when I do write something I like to think about it... not easy to do when the line is forming and people are waiting to be next up... talk about deadline pressure!

9. One kind soul laughed softly and said "you're kind of new to this signing thing, aren't you?" She added good naturedly, "it sort of shows but you'll get the hang of it!" (Note to self: need to get some advice on this from more experienced authors.)

10. The big surprise of the day was that two people drove a fairly good distance to purchase the two books I haven't finished! One man wanted my "history" book ("Daylight & Deja vu") and a young man was there to buy "March Storm." They were very nice about it but I felt terrible. The man who wanted the history book (he follows my blogging at the PragPro) wants a book in print and was not impressed when I said I'd probably distribute it by e-book first; the guy who wanted "March Storm" prefers e-books. He said that both he and his girlfriend read January Moon on their Kindles and his parents each have a Kindle.

11. A few of the local authors seemed unfortunately out of the loop about e-books. I had the sense that I was the only one who really understood e-books and I was surprised that even the authors who were much younger than I weren't very knowledgeable about the e-book revolution. I have a feeling that changed yesterday as there were a few epiphanous moments.

12. As always happens to me when I mix it up in a crowd, I came away with a very special connection. As luck would have it, I met a man who was a real honest-to-God alpaca farmer just when I needed to find one.

"March Storm" finds Lt. Del Carter, the young homicide dick from Chicago, trying to recover his sanity and shelter his new family on that alpaca farm he always swore he was one day going to own...

Mark Pressler said he'd be my alpaca expert and that put the final perfect touch on a thoroughly wonderful day.

Peace; ~mick