Freedom

G.M. Malliet

There are occasions we can never forget. The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, and the assassinations of JFK, RFK, and MLK are among the occasions that come to mind.

Occasions where you not only remember where you were, you can never forget where you were, what you were doing, when you heard the news.

But there is a happy occasion that comes to mind, also: the day the Berlin Wall fell, twenty years ago on November 9. The day we woke up, most of us with nothing more pressing on our minds than what to have for breakfast, and saw the amazing images of the collapse of the Berlin Wall. Of people cavorting on top of the much-hated, nearly 100-mile-long concrete edifice.

The day communism collapsed in Europe, seemingly overnight.

One day you’d be shot for trying to cross the border (and many did die trying), the next day a giant Oktoberfest was in progress.

No one could believe it. Freedom was as “easy”—and as difficult—as that.

The escape attempts, whether successful and unsuccessful, were heartbreaking. How desperate do you have to be to make a break for freedom with your family in a homemade hot air balloon? To spend months digging a secret tunnel, with the hundreds of occasions for betrayal and discovery? To make a mad and almost certainly suicidal dash across the “death strip”?

By coincidence (having forgotten the 20^th anniversary of this event was upon us) my husband and I visited the Newseum for the first time last week, where as it turns out, part of the Berlin Wall is on exhibit. This, combined with a display of Pulitzer Prize-winning photos, many of atrocities too painful to witness, and the 9-11 exhibit (ditto), provides a powerful one-two-three punch. I would urge everyone visiting Washington, D.C., to take in the Newseum, but bring a handkerchief. The exhibits are among the most potent reminders of the freedoms it is so easy to take for granted—beginning with that writers’ favorite, the freedom of the press.

My turn at this blog is a day late for Veterans Day, but let this serve as a very small tribute to those whose sacrifices let us live without walls, real or imagined.

Berlin wall photo from BBC.co.uk

Diary of an Envious Author

by Felicia Donovan

My nine-year old friend, Alex, recently loaned me his copy of Diary of a Wimpy Kid. I've watched this series climb up the bookselling charts to hit the number one spot both in adult and children's categories and was ever so curious about it.

An hour and exactly 224 pages later (a quick read, I assure you), I understood why. Author Jeff Kinney has managed to capture the developmentally immature, mischievous antics of socially-challenged Greg Heffley, an angst-driven adolescent who makes life anything but mundane. The stick-like figure cartoons lend hilarity in their sardonic simplicity.  It's not often that I find myself chuckling out loud while reading, but when skinny Greg tries to dupe teens out of money, he preemptively asks his out-of-shape friend, Rowley, to teach him some karate moves, "But Rowley said he's a gold belt in karate and he wasn't going to teach his moves to a 'no belt."

Once again, I'm kicking myself in the tooshie for not having thought of writing it first. Angst? You want angst? How about my nightmare of being the fourth child in a line of straight "A" smarties - all of whom had the same teachers. "You are related, aren't you?" Mrs. Allgrove asked as she studied me over her bifocals, mystified that unlike my siblings before me, I couldn't tell a polygon from a polliwog.

Sarcastic whit? Did you not hear that I was President of the Club? Read the t-shirt and buy a clue.

Adolescent hi-jinx? I'll journal my little heart out about skipping classes to go to the beach and thinking we would get caught and be thrown in jail or worse - sent home to face our mothers.

Another great series I coulda, shoulda, woulda written -- if only I'd thought of it first. Hats off to you Jeff Kinney. That's okay, I have an idea for another book about what to and not to eat. My working title is Eat This, Get Fat. It's got bestseller written all over it, don't you think?

New Technology, Not Better Technology

by Julia Buckley
We have gone through a lot of telephones in my family. Home phones tend to be expensive these days, but they are cheaply made (cell phones are a different category, and they're for another blog post). I'm talking about the landline--the good old house phone which, in our case, has always been mounted on the wall.

But the last few phones we had were so light and insubstantial that if we tried to travel while talking--travel,say, across the room--the phone got yanked out of its moorings and clattered onto the floor. Our most recent phone fell and clattered so often that I indulged in some insane moments, yelling at it while it lay in all its cheapness on our hard wood floor.

These events gave rise to a wave of nostalgia, and I indulged in memories of my 1960s and 70s era rotary-dial phones: big, heavy, substantial and ever reliable, these phones were soon phased out for the newer models, because lighter is better, right?

I was not convinced. I've blogged before about planned obsolescence, and my phone experience put me on that soapbox once again.

This time, though, I followed my nostalgia to Ebay, where I found the lovely rotary model in the photo. I purchased it for ten dollars, and it now sits regally on my desk. It works, by the way, and every time I dial it I thrill to the sound of the dialing disk as it slides back into place.

What if I'm on the phone, but I want to wheel my chair over to the other desk--the one where I pay the bills? No problem. This jumbo telephone isn't going anywhere--and it has nice little rubber feet that help to hold it in place.

So I say hurrah for Ebay and for the chance to reclaim some of the value that has been lost in the age of expediency. I highly recommend my rotary dial, and if you call me, you can bet I'll answer you on that one, and not the little cheapie on the wall.

Support Your Local Library!

In these tough economic times, more and more stresses are being placed on local libraries, while at the same time many of them are facing budget cuts. People who can't afford to buy as many books are checking more of them out of the library. People who have lost their jobs are using library computers and reference materials to search for new jobs. Also, libraries are serving as community centers, providing meeting rooms to organizations and low-cost or free reading or educational programs for children and adults.

How can you support your local library and assure the services they provide your community continue? I'll list a few ideas, and I'd like to encourage InkSpot readers to submit more ideas in comments. Libraries everywhere need our help and encouragement.

1. Donate used books that you no longer want to your local Friends of the Library organization or to whatever entity at your library runs a used bookstore, with profits going to buy new materials for the library shelves.

2. If a library tax measure is up for a vote in your community, support it any way you can, with a letter to the editor of your local newspaper, a sign in your yard, a contribution to the campaign, personal e-mails to your friends encouraging them to support the measure, etc.

3. Include your library or the Friends of the Library organization in your year-end giving plan. Most libraries have an associated nonprofit organization, or are one themselves, to which you can make a tax-deductible donation. Alternatively, if your library has a donation "wish list" of physical items, maybe you have a file cabinet, printer, bean bag chair or some other item that you no longer need and the library could use.

4. Volunteer a few hours a week in your library to shelve books, read to children, decorate a bulletin board, make database entries, or do whatever needs to be done. As library funding shrinks, so does the staffing, and volunteers can help fill some of the gaps.

5. Serve on a library committee to plan special events such as local author signing days or an all-city-reads program. And, you can even bake cookies or provide other refreshments for such an event. I serve on the committee for the Pikes Peak Library District's annual Mountain of Authors program, which aims to connect local authors with potential readers in the community. My connections with fellow local authors are useful in planning programs and inviting speakers. If you're an author, this is an area where you can really contribute.

6. Another area where a writer can contribute is in encouraging teen writers. If your local library doesn't have a teen writing critique group, start one. If they do, offer to talk to the group about writing or writing business how-tos. I've given presentations to the teen writing group at my library branch about tools for character development, how to write a query letter, markets for teen-written short stories and poetry, and other topics. I find working with enthusiastic teen writers to be a lot of fun!

7. Avid readers can volunteer to run a book club at your local libraries, possibly focusing on a particular genre or a theme, such as "world travelers" . I've discussed my mystery books with general and mystery-oriented book clubs at various Pikes Peak Library branches, and while some are managed by librarians, others are run by volunteer organizers.

8. Join your local Friends of the Library organization and volunteer for their projects, many of which might be included in the above list. Or, serve on the Library Board as a community liaison.

9. If you're an author, donate a copy of one of your books to the library and volunteer to put on a reading or discussion program by yourself or with other local authors.

10. USE your library! Get a library card and check out books, movies, and other materials and talk to your friends and neighbors about how useful the library is to you.

I'm sure InkSpot readers can come up with lots of other ways to support your local libraries, so chime in, folks!

What Do You …Or Will You…Do?

How many social or business events have you attended where someone asked, “So what do you do?” Most people respond by talking about their job and maybe segue into their hobbies. Years ago, my answer would have been, “I’m the Human Resources Director at… or I work in Marketing at …” For seven years, I said, “I’m a stay-at-home mom.” During those years, depending on how exciting my day was, I might also have answered, “I’m the laundry frau.” I doubt many children aspire to be that. I know I didn’t.

But now I’ve published my first novel, and I can say, “I’m a writer.” I never said that until I signed my publishing contract. I feared if I did people would ask if my book was finished yet or when it was going to be published and I would feel pressure. Since I wrote for my own entertainment, I didn’t want any pressure. I didn’t want to feel like I was failing in some way when I was so excited about all the words I put on paper. I didn’t want to feel like the woman who says, “We’re trying to have a baby” because, let’s face it, it’s the kind of goal either ultimately achieved—or not.

Last month, I left my family (something I hate to do) to attend Bouchercon for four days and promote For Better, For Murder. Socializing was different there. Most people could tell from the bookmarks sticking out of my name badge that I was a writer—okay, author. No one started a conversation by asking what I do or about my interests. Readers, librarians, writers, and authors abounded. Popular authors drew crowds.

During my last hour of the conference, I realized one of my preferred authors, Harlan Coben, was standing behind me, talking with some readers. When I got home, I checked out his web site and his list of appearances. He spent March in Begium, France, and New York. April in California, Texas, Missouri, Illinois, Massachusetts, New Jersey, D.C., West Virginia, Florida, and Scotland. May in England. My first thought was the man’s an international sensation and a real star. Then I wondered, did he have to be away from his wife and kids for all that time? Then I read the statement at the top of his appearance list: “Any requests should be directed to Harlan's publicity people—Harlan does not choose where he goes.” And I thought, are you saying Harlan’s given up control of his life?

Days later I read an online story about Kenny Rogers. A man paid him $4 million dollars to sing “The Gambler” at his birthday party. Who wouldn’t accept that gig? According to the story, Kenny sang it twelve times. When the man asked a thirteenth time, Kenny drew the line. Me, I would have folded after three to four requests.

So what would you give up to be an international sensation and a real star? And where would you draw the line?

Is H1N1 Worthy of the Hype?

I feel qualified to answer this question because as this is being posted, I am on Day 4 of this flu. In many ways, it’s like any other flu. There’s a fever, sore throat (that soon develops into a nasty, wet cough) and muscle aches.

After the first two days, it doesn’t feel as severe as it did during those initial 24 hours, but it also doesn’t seem to let up. I had Mono once in high school and this flu reminds me of Mono because I’m tired all the time. If I fold a load of laundry I have to rest afterward. If I write a paragraph I have to rest afterward. This blog post will set me back days!

My son also has H1N1. (That's him dressed as Swine Flu Indiana Jones) He was diagnosed on Halloween and the doc said, “No trick-or-treating for him.” Yeah right. I could not do that to the kid. He’s a six-year-old boy. Running around taking handouts of free candy is his idea of heaven. How could I deny him? I didn’t. I made him wear a mask, had my husband ring the doorbell and collect the candy, and refused to let him near another human being. Did he still have fun? Heck, yes! He got 80 pieces of candy and told me it was the best Halloween ever!

I think the media has spun this illness beyond the bounds of reality. I know adults and children alike have lost their lives from this flu and that others have had some major scares (the children of two friends had fevers reaching 104 degrees. That’s scary!), but is this flu really worse than other strains? Does the fear do us any good?

Perhaps I’ll answer my own question by saying that our public school phoned last week with a recorded message detailing exactly how our children should be washing their hands (warm water and soap – can you imagine?). I had my son listen. Afterwards, he went into the bathroom and followed the recording’s steps. When he emerged, he proclaimed, “Now when I pick my nose my boogies taste like lemon.”

And that’s how he got H1N1! Anyone out there had it? Do you think it’s worth the hype?

Halloween Sluts

Let me take this blog down a notch, away from writing and toward the gutter. Halloween was this past Saturday. Love Halloween, always have. Is there a connection between enjoying a holiday based around subterfuge and disguise and being a mystery writer? I dunno. Let’s say there is, and that I was the first one to point it out.

But that’s not why I’m writing. I’m writing because I’m the mother of a bright, beautiful, funny, clever 11-year-old girl, and when we went costume shopping, all the costumes were some version of “Halloween Slut”: naughty nurse, candy corn concubine, wanton witch. Want to portray a strong, interesting character? Too bad. You’re a girl. Strap on the fishnets and get to work.

My daughter bucked it all and made her own Penelope costume, based on the pig-nosed girl character in the movie. She was warm, and she got to smile a lot because she didn’t have to worry about her belly hanging out or her skirt being too short. But can’t we as a culture do better? Can we boycott the short, tight, mono-boob-creating female costumes and embrace creativity on this of all holidays?

By the way, I was an elven warrior, and I meant it. Tell me what your favorite costume was this year so we can carry those warm thoughts with us right up until next Halloween.