Why do you blog?

Today I want to open the floor, so to speak, to all my bloggy friends.

  • I want to know a few things:
  • Why do you blog?
  • How did you get started blogging?
  • What has been the benefit of blogging in your life?
  • What have been the best parts of your blogging experience?
  • Have there been any bad parts of blogging?
  • You can answer these questions here or write a separate post and then come back and let me know.

I started thinking about these questions as they pertain to my life in the last few weeks because I had become very wrapped up in social media while trying to promote my books and I started to hate it. I hated it because I missed blogging. I missed sharing with my “followers” here. I don’t like the term followers because many of you have become my friends – friends I don’t see or talk to in person most of the time (with a couple of exceptions) but friends, nonetheless.

Many of the people I have met while blogging have prayed for me, checked on me, encouraged me, and sometimes even gently corrected me.

There have been recent seasons in my life that I don’t think I would have survived without my blog friends.

I truly am feeling choked up as I write this.

What a blessing it has been to connect with bloggers in my “real life” (not that blogging isn’t real life). I never imagined I would be able to call my readers my friends – such as Facebook friends but also real friends.

So to answer my own questions:

I started blogging because I enjoy writing and my brother was blogging so I started to keep one too. My first blog was called the same as this one, Boondock Ramblings, and it was what was called a “mommy blog” because I blogged mainly about my son.

I blogged back then to connect with other moms and share stories (both funny and stressful) and simply to have a creative outlet. Today I still blog for the creative outlet and to connect with others.

The benefit of blogging is that it has allowed me to connect with other people who have encouraged me and supported me and laughed and cried with me.

It has also been something I can do other than sit and worry about my problems or concerns.

Connection with the other bloggers has also encouraged me in my walk with Christ, or as a reader, or mom, or just a person.

Is there a downside to blogging? Sometimes. There have been times I’ve felt pressured to write something, even when I’m busy, but that’s more my problem than blogging’s problem and I luckily haven’t had that feeling in a while. There can sometimes be rude people who leave rude comments but that has very, very rarely happened to me.

There are times when bloggers can get into the comparison game and compare their lives to the lives of other bloggers. That’s a negative but something I have not done very often, luckily.

I’ve already mentioned the best part of blogging above but I will reiterate again that the best parts of blogging are meeting people, getting to know them, and forming friendships with people who have stumbled onto my blog for whatever reason.

For whatever reason you stopped on my blog – I thank you. I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad we have become friends. I’m thankful that God brought you here at just the right time in my – and your – life.

I hope you’ll stick around.

She was ready for heaven

We walked into the sparsely decorated hospital room and the tired woman reached out one hand to each of us. Dark circles creased the skin under her eyes. Mom walked to one side and I walked to the other and we each took a hand.

“Oh, girls. I’m so glad you came.”

She turned her head to look at Mom, tears in her eyes. “It’s spread. It’s all over this time. There’s nothing they can do.”

Mom fought back tears but lost the battle and I felt them come fast to my eyes too.

“Don’t cry, girls.” She squeezed our hands. “I’ve been so lucky. I know we thought it was a bad thing when Joy had her babies so young but look at all this time I’ve had with my babies.”

More tears from us and more calm from the woman who had just been given a terminal cancer diagnosis after being in remission from breast cancer a decade before.

I don’t remember how many years she continued to fight but it was longer than doctors expected. We visited her as much as we could with her living an hour away. A hospital bed in the living room became her permanent place to sit and visit.

One of the last times I saw her I was pregnant.

“Boy or girl?” She asked in her matter-of-fact way. “What are we having?”

“She thinks a girl,” Mom answered for me. “But I think that’s because she has so many nieces.”

Donna laughed that loud, boisterous, full-of-life laugh, unique laugh of hers. “No. It’s a boy. We have enough girls. I love them but we need a boy.” She had four granddaughters at the time.

On the day of my baby shower, Mom received a call. It was from Donna.

“I so much want to be there but I don’t think I’ll make it. I’m not feeling well today.”

They spoke briefly and Mom said she, of course, understood.

Later that night Donna’s son called to tell Mom that Donna had just passed away. She thought of me on the day she died. I couldn’t figure out why. I wasn’t anyone special – she had others in her life she was closer to. I am certain she’d wanted to be there for me but especially for Mom.

Over the months, I began to wonder if the baby growing in my womb really was a girl. We had only picked out two names for children  – Grace and Jonathan.

Our baby was born a few months after Donna died. The labor was long — 23 and a half hours. The kid was comfortable in there and was already two weeks late.

When the baby finally arrived at 5:58 a.m., the midwife held the small figure up to me butt first and said, “What’s that?”

I was delirious with exhaustion and said “Her umbilical cord?”

“No!” The midwife cried. “That’s not an umbilical cord!”

“Oh!” Tears filled my eyes. “Is that my Jonathan?”

“Yes! It’s a boy!”

They cleaned him off and laid him on my stomach and in his eyes I saw wisdom beyond what I can explain – not because my child was brilliant already but because he seemed to still have the remnants of heaven in his gaze. I’ll never forget how alert he looked. Maybe Donna had told him about me.

Mom was on the other side of the room, exhausted herself. “What did Donna say?” She asked, her voice breaking.

I was still exhausted and emotional now and I started to cry. “She said we’d have a boy.”

I was angry at God for taking Donna from her family. I harbored bitterness at him for years over it.

“You’re not a fair God,” I told him. “I can’t trust you. Look what you did to Donna.”

One day I told Mom this and she said something like, “No, no. Don’t ever be angry at him for taking Donna home. She wanted to go. She wanted to see him. She was ready for heaven and God knew that.”

My anger has shifted to confusion now and I just want to know why she had to suffer and leave them all behind. I’m looking forward to God’s answer one day.

I wish you could see him now, Donna. You’d be so proud of him. He’s smart and funny and takes care of your best friend like she’s the queen. He helps Dad several times a week and he’s taking a building and construction class. He’s sweet and caring and earlier this year he saved a woman’s life.

You really would be proud of this boy.

Our boy.

Sunday Bookends: Still reading the same books, homeschool starts, baking cookies, and photos of the week




It’s time for our Sunday morning chat. On Sundays, I ramble about what’s been going on, what the rest of the family and I have been reading and watching, and what I’ve been writing. Some weeks I share what I am listening to.

This week I’m joining up with Kimba at Caffeinated Reviewer and Kathyrn at The Book Date.

What’s Been Occurring

I wrote more about what has been occurring in my post yesterday, but will share here a few things: homeschool started, we had what was probably our last swim last weekend, and cooler weather is moving in. If you want to read what I wrote yesterday, that post is HERE.

Last night we had some family time and it was really nice. The Boy wanted to make cookies for the neighbor next door because she always makes cookies for us either when the mood strikes her or around Christmas. He bought the ingredients we didn’t have and he and his sister made the cookies themselves with only a little bit of help from their mom (uh, me) while we watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding (getting ready for the third movie in this series).

Our oven has been broken for a while so we cooked them in the air fryer and they came out pretty good, actually.

The Boy and Little Miss ran them over to the neighbor, even though it was 10:30 at night, because we saw her on her porch. They are night owls like us. Unfortunately they almost gave her a heart attack when they appeared out of the darkness. Luckily she recovered and she and her husband were very appreciative of the gift.

They are experiencing a new season in their life after their daughter left for college last week. It is the first time in 31 years they haven’t had children in their house so we are trying to treat them a little as they adjust.

This morning we watched church and afterward Pixel, our older cat, was yowling on the front porch. The Husband stepped outside and she was sitting there with a dead bird that she appeared to be presenting us with as a gift. She doesn’t bring us dead animals as much as the younger cat, Scout, because she has gotten a little bit lazy as she’s gotten older. We were sad that she grabbed a young bird, but she was so proud of herself so I told her she’d done a good job while The Husband scooped up the bird to prepare it for what he calls a “Viking” burial in our burn barrel.

Photos from Last Week


What I/we’ve been Reading

Anyone who is new here should probably know up front that I am not a book blogger. I don’t read fast. I read slowly. Mainly because I read a couple books at a time, write my books, and homeschool throughout the week. I also don’t enjoy reading so many books that I don’t even remember what I read. I’m old, peeps. If I read too many books, then I just can’t remember what the book was about down the road because my brain has absorbed it into all the other things I have forgotten thanks to my old age.

With all that being said, I’m still reading All That Really Matters by Nicole Deese (enjoying it more than I thought I would), Crime and Poetry by Amanda Flower, and Anne of Ingleside by L.M. Montgomery.

I plan to finish All That Really Matters and Crime and Poetry this week. Both flow along quite quickly and easily.

Later this week I plan to share some books I plan to read this fall.

The keywords in the above sentence are “plan to”. I may never get to them, but I “plan to” read them.

Little Miss and I are back to Little House books for the nighttime at her request. They are comfort reads for her and with the changes in our family schedule this week I think she just wants some comfort reads. We are reading On the Shores of Silver Lake. During the day we will be reading Gone Away Lake for School.

The Boy and I will be starting The Red Badge of Courage this week for literature and history.

What We watched/are Watching

This past week I watched two Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers’ movies. One was Flying Down to Rio and the other was Shall We Dance.

I liked Flying Down to Rio better than Shall We Dance. One major issue I had with Shall We Dance was the scene at the end with a bunch of women who were dancing while wearing masks that looked like Ginger. Talk about upping the creepy factor to ten.

Still, the dancing was amazing as always.

Flying Down to Rio was the first movie that Fred and Ginger ever made together and they were not the main characters. They were, however, supporting characters who stole the show.

The pair went on to make ten movies together. Nine of those movies were made from 1933 to 1939 and were in black and white, which always leaves our daughter and I to guess what colors Ginger’s dresses are. In 1949 they filmed a technicolor film together – The Barkleys of Broadway – and that was their last together.

I hope to watch that soon and offer a little review of it. I think I might offer a review of Flying Down to Rio later this week too because that film was a lot better than I expected.

Have you watched any of Fred and Ginger’s movies? Which ones were your favorites?



What I’m Writing

I am working on blog posts right now. I have a few ideas and things I want to share so I’ve been focusing on writing them ahead of time the last few days.

I am also, of course, working on Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage so I can release it in November.

This week on the blog I shared:

What I’m Listening To

There are so many new albums out this week, which The Husband let me know about. I do not pay attention to new releases very well. Tim McGraw and Brooke Ligertwood have new albums and Steven Furtick put out a new motivational message to music so I am checking all three of those out. I am also behind on listening to Elevation Worship’s new album and then Brandon Lake also has two new songs that I haven’t listened to yet. I need more hours in the day.

I’ve also enjoyed finding this new artist from his viral song, Rich Men North of Richmond:

(*language warning*)

Now it’s your turn

Now it’s your turn. What have you been doing, watching, reading, listening to or writing? Let me know in the comments or leave a blog post link if you also write a weekly update like this.

Fiction Friday: Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage Chapter 2

Welcome to the second chapter of Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage, which is the second book in the Gladwynn Grant Mystery series. This is a cozy mystery series.

For the last few years I have blogged my books as I write them, sharing a chapter a week for my blog readers. I didn’t do this for the first book in this series, but thought I’d try it with book two. If you want to read book one, you can find ebook and paperback copies here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C1KSQJXP

If you are new here, I just want to let you know that this is a story that is somewhat a first draft, though I actually read over the chapters a few times before moving forward and before posting them here. There will be typos, errors, wrong names, and plot holes. Just keep that in mind. If you see a typo and you want to tell me about it, please do. I have my books edited and proofread before they publish and still many things are missed. It also doesn’t help when I upload the wrong file for the final book. Sigh.
Anyhow, enjoy book two of the series and if you want to check out my other books you can find links to them HERE.

You can find the first chapter that I shared last week HERE.

If you don’t want to read the book as a serial, you can pre-order it HERE. It releases November 21.

Chapter 2

Gladwynn pulled her gaze from the man standing above her and returned her focus on the task at hand. “No, Vince. I can handle it myself.”

“Or I will do it for her,” Abbie interjected.

Out of the corner of her eye, Gladwynn noticed Abbie’s pursed lips and one raised eyebrow, almost as if she had gone all Mama Bear in an effort to protect Gladwynn from being hit on by some man at the beach.

Vince Giordano wasn’t exactly “some man,” though. Gladwynn had had plenty of interactions with him, one of the last ones being on the back of his ATV when he drove her to see a digging operation on the property of a man who turned out to be very guilty of several crimes.

He’d lifted her onto the back of the ATV in an embarrassing moment and then the embarrassment had continued when she’d fallen in the mud and he’s tried to help wipe the mud off of her. After that he’d definitely been flirting with her so she’d been avoiding him as much as possible since.

Today, Vince was standing above her in a pair of blue shorts, shirtless, with muscular arms folded across a broad and well-toned chest. His dark beard was neatly trimmed and his dark green eyes flashed with amusement.

He shrugged his shoulder. “No problem. Just thought I’d ask.” He tipped his sunglasses down. “Nice to see you again, Gladwynn.” He moved his eyes to Abbie. “Mrs. Mendoza. Good to see you too. You ladies have a nice picnic.”

Abbie wriggled her fingers at him in a wave. “You too, Vince. Buh-bye.” She rolled her eyes as soon as he turned to walk across the beach. “The nerve of him asking you if you wanted him to rub sunblock on your back. I mean there is flirting and then there is outright making a pass at a woman.”

Gladwynn laughed and leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows and stretching her legs out in front of her. “Vince is just – well, Vince. He’s a flirt, sure, but he’s also a good guy. Grandma says he came back home to take care of his mom when she was ill.”

Abbie rubbed lotion on her arms. “He did and he’s a prison guard and the bouncer at the Birchwood Township meetings, but he’s still a man who needs to learn some manners.”

Gladwynn laughed again at her friend’s protectiveness.

She looked out over the beach, noticing that Vince had laid on his stomach on a towel, laying his head on his arms and clearly sunbathing. He propped his chin on his hand and looked at her, grinning.

Her attention was pulled from Vince by a slender woman with honey blond hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun talking aggressively on a cellphone further down the beach. A white stripe stretched diagonally across her black bathing suit, which fit snuggly across her curvy form.

The woman shook her head, said something, placed a hand on her hip, and scowled as she listened to the person on the other end of the phone.

Abbie waved a hand in front of Gladwynn’s face. “Hello. Earth to Gladwynn. What’s got your attention?”

“Oh. Sorry. It’s that woman down there. She’s clearly having an intense conversation with someone and her expressions caught my attention.”

Abbie took a sip from her water bottle. “It’s the storyteller in you. I’m sure you’re imagining all kinds of scenarios about what that phone call is all about.” Her expression changed quickly to recognition. “Oh. That’s Samantha from Willowbrook. She’s the recreational director.”

Gladwynn turned her head to watch the woman again. “Grandma and Doris were just talking about how wonderful she is.”

“She is wonderful,” Abbie said, sliding her sunglasses up to the top of her head. “She doesn’t look like she is having a wonderful conversation, though.”

Samantha gestured into the air and then slapped her hand against her thigh, her face twisted in an angry scowl.

Gladwynn winced. “No. She doesn’t. Hopefully it is just a minor lover’s spat.”

Something about Samantha’s expression, though, told Gladwynn that the conversation was definitely not minor.

After swimming with the kids for an hour, eating lunch for a half hour, and stretching out for a half hour on the blanket under the umbrella, it was time to pack up. Abbie needed to get the children home for dinner, baths, and bedtime and Gladwynn had an appointment at the theater. She’d need a shower to wash off all the sand and a change before then.

Logan had definitely had enough and had to be carried on Isabella’s back to the parking lot. Gladwynn and Abbie followed carrying their bags and several bags full of sand toys, towels, and wet clothes. Gladwynn also carried the cooler and had the swan’s neck hooked over one shoulder.  

“Do ya’ ladies need a bit of help there?”

The thick Northern Irish accent was a clear indication of who was offering assistance. Gladwynn glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “We’re doing okay, but thank you for your offer, Pastor Callahan.”

Luke sighed heavily. “I’ve told you before that we are past the formalities. Call me Luke, Miss Grant.”

His blue eyes sparkled with amusement as he fell in step beside her. She noticed he was as clean shaven – and as handsome — as ever. It was apparent he didn’t allow hair to grow along his jawline even when camping. His blond hair was cut short, as usual, and combed to one side. Once again, he reminded her of a classic 1940’s movie star. It was both of their love for classic movies and jazz music that had led them to an in depth conversation more than once before over the last few months. The first conversation had been in the sunroom at her grandmother’s where Gladwynn had caught Lucinda looking on with a mischievous smirk. That smirk had been brought on by the fact she’d invited Luke home for dinner, obviously hoping the two would hit it off.

“Now, seriously, my dears. Let me have a bag.”

Abbie paused and slid two canvas bags off her shoulders. “I will gladly accept your assistance, pastor. Thank you so much.”

“Yes. Thank you for your help,” Gladwynn added. “How was your camping trip?”

He lifted the bags onto his shoulders and smiled. “Refreshing. Exactly what I needed.”

Gladwynn took in his dark maroon T-shirt and dark blue jeans and realized it was the most casual she’d ever seen him. She was used to seeing him in a button-up dress shirt and khakis, even when he wasn’t behind the pulpit.

He set the bags down when they reached Abbie’s minivan then opened the back hatch and set them inside. He held his hands out for the bags Gladwynn was carrying, setting them down as well.

He did the same for the remaining backs Abbie was carrying, then ruffled Logan’s sand encrusted hair. “Did you have fun, young man?”

Logan nodded sleepily from his position on his sister’s back.

Luke laughed. “You’re going to sleep hard on the way home.”

“God willing,” Abbie said with a small laugh and a gesture toward the sky. “Put in a good word for me, pastor.”

Luke winked. “You know what I always say – I’m no better than you in the sight of God just because of my vocation, but I’m willing to say an extra prayer for the wee one to get a nap.” His gaze drifted across the parking lot. “I should be going, ladies, but I hope you have a good rest of the day.” He leveled a gaze at Gladwynn. “See you in church tomorrow?”

She was again struck by how nearly translucent his blue eyes were. “I’m sure Grandma and I will be there, barring any unforeseen circumstances.”

He smiled, tipped his head down briefly, and kept his gaze locked on hers as he stepped away. “Until then.” He broke eye contact as he turned.

Gladwynn watched him cross the parking lot and pause next to a small blue car. It wasn’t the car that caught her attention as much as the woman standing next to it. Samantha Mors had one hand on the car door as Luke about a foot in front of her and propped his hand on the roof of the car.

They began talking and Gladwynn found herself trying to interpret their body language. Was their conversation professional or personal?

She pulled her attention from the scene in front of her and started looking for her keys in her bag. What they were talking about was none of her business. Just because her grandmother wanted her to have a stake in Luke’s life didn’t mean she wanted the same. The man was a pastor. He could be talking to Samantha about her spiritual wellness.

As she raised her gaze and began to turn back to her car, she saw Samantha hug Luke and him return the hug. She chewed on her bottom lip. Hugs weren’t usually part of pastoral counseling, were they?

“I thought you weren’t interested in Pastor Luke.”

Abbie’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. “What? I’m not.”

A small smirk pulled at Abbie’s mouth. “Yeah. Okay. If you say so. You just seem a bit invested into whatever is happening over there.”

Gladwynn unlocked her car door, opened the driver’s side door, and set her bag inside. “Not in the least. Looks like you have a way of imagining scenarios yourself, Mendoza. Get those kids home and washed off and we’ll talk later.”

Abbie gave her a quick hug, still sporting an amused smile. “Okay, hon. Thanks for coming and good luck at the theater event. They can be a rowdy bunch, so prepare yourself.”

Gladwynn laughed out loud as she started her car.

Rowdy bunch? They were senior citizens. How rowdy could they be?

***

The disgruntled voice of a man hit Gladwynn as soon she opened the door to the main part of the community center theater.

“Good grief, Marge. I didn’t say I wouldn’t play the part. I just said I didn’t want to.”

A woman, presumably Marge, responded sharply. “Well, if you don’t want to then I don’t know why you would say you’ll do it.”

“I’m playing it because there aren’t many other men in this community who can play it so I’m fine with playing it.”

Gladwynn paused at the top of the aisle and sought out the source of the argument, looking up on the stage, which was fully lit by the house lights.

A woman with tightly curled gray hair, slightly plump, stood facing a tall man with white hair. The woman was holding a script in one hand, a pair of small, wire-rimmed glasses in the other. The man had his hands shoved deep in his khaki pockets, leaning back slightly as if trying to lean away from the woman. The expression on his face didn’t match his stance, instead he looked incredibly bored by it all.  

The woman remained in the same position, looking at the man, swinging her glasses by the earpiece. “Don’t feel obligated. It’s not the end of the world if you can’t do it. We’ll find someone else.”

The man kept his hands in his pockets slightly leaning forward. “Marge! I already said I’ll do it. Now, can I get a copy of the script so I can see how many lines I have?”

“You don’t need a script if you don’t want to do it.”

 Another woman’s voice broke in off stage. “Greg said he’d do it, Marge. Let him do it and let it go.”

Marge let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. Here is a script then. Don’t be late to rehearsals.”

Brookstone post office employee Floyd Simmons walked onto the stage wearing a floppy woman’s hat. “How do I look ladies? Am I the perfect Matthew?”

Several people in the front of the theater laughed and at least one person told him to take the hat off. Gladwynn wondered how Floyd would play Matthew, since she knew the man was hard of hearing and somedays practically had to be shouted out before he could hear the other person. She experienced this firsthand any time she visited the post office where Floyd still worked after 50 years.

Lucinda, standing by a large chest overflowing with fabric and costumes, waved at Gladwynn from the back of the stage. “Over here, sweetie!”  she called, her voice echoing through the empty theater.

The small group of people on the stage all turned toward her to see who Lucinda was beckoning to. Gladwynn tipped her head slightly in a greeting as she made her way down the aisle toward the front of the theater. Several smiles met her as she walked.

A woman who Gladwynn guessed to be somewhere in her mid-60s stepped in front of her as she reached the top of the steps on the side of the stage. Her dark hair with light gray streaks fell in a straight bob to her shoulders, like something from a 1920s film. A dress made of thin, flowing material covered in purple flowers fell to her ankles and wrists.

Her lipstick, a shade of deep lavender, matched the flowers on the dress.

She firmly grasped Gladwynn by the arms and leaned back to look at her.  “Oh, Lucinda, is this the Gladwynn we’ve heard so much about?”

The woman turned to look over her shoulder briefly at Lucinda, who laughed.

“Yes, this is her.”

The woman turned back to Gladwynn. “Oh my. She’s gorgeous.” She slapped her hands to her chest. “You’re gorgeous, love. Just gorgeous!” Her smile stretched the skin along her mouth and bony cheek bones, slightly cracking a thick layer of pale foundation “You definitely have Grant genes in you. You remind me so much of your father.” Her eyes, outlined with thick, black eyeliner, widened. “What a looker he was. My younger sister was just head over heels for him.”

Gladwynn wasn’t sure what to do with the information about the sister’s crush on her father or with the compliments about her looks. She felt warmth spread across her cheeks and chest as she laughed softly. “Thank you. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Emerald.” The woman waved a hand out to one side with a dramatic twirl of her wrist. “My name is Emerald Cappucci. I’m the assistant director of the production.”

She slid a hand to Gladwynn’s upper back and gently pulled her forward. “Come. Let me introduce you to everyone. We’re so very glad you could come. Our director will be here soon. She’s back at her place trying to get rid of a headache she developed after a day in the sun.”

Gladwynn exchanged a perplexed look with her grandmother as Emerald propelled her toward a small group of people gathered on the edge of the stage.

Emerald raised her arms and clapped her hands together twice.  “Everyone! This is Gladwynn Grant. Lucinda’s beautiful granddaughter and the reporter from the Brookstone Beacon. She’s here to write a story about our upcoming production. Everyone welcome her please.”

The small group was made up of a mixture of ages ranging anywhere from Gladwynn’s age to Lucinda’s and maybe older. There were smiles, nods of heads, and ‘hellos’ offered. Gladwynn recognized Floyd, Beatrice Gilbert, Jane Henderson, Louise Barton, Mikey Tyler and Fanny Tanner – all whom her grandmother played Pitch with once a week at the retirement community. She didn’t recognize the other three. Emerald introduced each person, gesturing to them with a dramatic twist of her wrist each time and saying each name with an equally dramatic roll of the r in the names that had them.

Emerald’s eyelids — the edges darkened with clearly fake eyelashes — fluttered as she gestured to the younger woman with long blond hair that fell in large, fluffy curls down to the middle of her back. “Summer Bloomfield is our Anne, of course.” She clasped her hands in front of her and continued to look at Summer as if the woman had fallen from the sky with angels wings attached.

Ah, Summer. The Summer. The Summer who worked at the library and who her grandmother had once told her was dating Luke Callahan. Gladwynn wasn’t sure of their relationship status at this point, especially after seeing Luke with Samantha earlier that day, but it was nice to finally put a face to the name.

The name perfectly fit the woman’s sunny personality too. Her face practically glowed. Her smile revealed two rows of perfectly white, perfectly shaped teeth, and her bright green eyes sparkled under the stage lights as if she were born to be a star.

“So lovely to meet you, Gladwynn!” Summer gushed, stepping forward and clasping both of her hands around Gladwynn’s. “We have heard so much about you and all of it has been wonderful.” She winked. “And not all of it has come from your wonderful grandmother. You have made quite an impression on people in Marson County since arriving.”

A good impression? Or a bad one? And on whom? Who had been talking to Summer about her? Was this a veiled reference to Luke? She wasn’t sure how to take Summer’s statement but since the woman was smiling, she’d take it as a compliment. Unless the woman was subtly suggesting that Gladwynn had made an impression on Luke and she didn’t like it. Her mental analyzing was cut short as a door behind the group slammed open, hitting the wall behind it.

Doris walked briskly through the doorway and to the group. Her cheeks were flushed. “You’re not going to believe who just called me.” She paused to smile at Gladwynn. “Hello, Gladwynn, hon. Glad you made it.”

Emerald laid a hand lightly at the base of her throat. “Tell me it wasn’t Ashley.”

Doris’ brow dipped into a scowl. “It was and she’s flaked out on us just like you said she would. She says she can’t possibly play Diana now because she’s sprained her ankle playing pickleball.”

Emerald tipped her head back and groaned softly, pressing the heel of her hand against her the center of her forehead. “Pickleball. Please! That girl! She’s so dramatic.”

Gladwynn stifled a laugh behind her hand at the irony of the statement coupled with Emerald’s dramatic swooning gesture.

Doris placed her hands on her hips. “Who are we going to find to play Diana on such short notice?”

A murmur rippled through the group.

Marge shrugged, looking sour. “There are only so many young people from the area interested in community theater these days. The pickings are definitely slim.”

“We could place an ad in the newspaper and on the radio,” Franny offered.

Emerald shook her head, wrapping her hand around her chin. “That could take some time and we need to get someone in as soon as possible. We only have two months until opening night.” Her brow furrowed in thought. “Who do we even know who is young, with dark hair, and loves Anne of Green Gables?”

A quiet settled over the group. A couple of them looked at the floor. Others looked at each other and shrugged, then shook their heads.

Then slowly, one by one, starting first with Lucinda, the cast began to look toward Gladwynn, who sensed rather than saw the situation happening. She looked up from the script she’d picked up from the top of a crate to flip through.

She looked at Lucinda who had an amused smirk pulling at one side of her mouth, then back at the group. “Why are you all looking at me?”

Emerald clapped her hands together once. “Oh daaahling!! – you’d be perfect!

Confusion clouded Gladwynn’s expression. “Perfect? For what?”

Emerald held her arms out to her sides. “You could totally play Diana. You’re young. You have dark hair. You’re beautiful. Plus, Lucinda was just telling us the other day how much you love the book.”

Gladwynn narrowed her eyes and looked at Lucinda. “She did, did she?” She shook her head once and held up a finger. “No. No. No. And no. I liked reading Anne of Green Gables. I don’t want to act in a play of it. Never. Ever. No. Not going to happen.”

Lucinda stepped across the stage and placed a hand on each of Gladwynn’s shoulders. She gave her granddaughter her best puppy-eyed dog look. “But don’t you want to make a bunch of old people who are on death’s door happy?”

Gladwynn gasped. “Grandma, really? Emotional manipulation does not become you.”

Louise scoffed from the right side of the stage. “Speak for yourself, Lucinda. I’ve got another decade in me at least.”

Emerald waved her hands in a dramatic rhythm above her head. “Just think about it, dahling, and get back to us, okay? For now, let’s get this interview going. Samantha should breeze in — .” She looked down at the watch on her wrist. “Any minute now.”

Gladwynn shook off the shock of being asked to be in the play and took her notebook and pen out of her bag. She asked Emerald and the actors questions about the production, who would be playing what part, and the show dates and times. Half an hour later she had all she needed for the article. For a photograph she took a few candid photographs of the cast rehearsing their lines and Lucinda and Doris looking through the costumes.

Emerald stood from the chair she’d sat at the front of the stage for the interview and huffed out a breath. “I just can’t understand where Samantha’s got to. She’s never been this late.”

Louise fanned herself with a script. “Has anyone tried to call her?”

Doris raised her cellphone. “I have her number. I’ll give her a call and see what is going on.”

Gladwynn grabbed Lucinda by the arm as Doris stepped outside through the backdoor behind the stage and steered the woman toward stage left. “What was with them asking me to be in the play? And who was the lady yelling at that man when I first came in?”

Lucinda smiled. “You just happened to be here at the wrong time, my dear. They probably would have jumped on any warm body who came in the door to play that part, but Emerald is right. You are perfect for the role. As for Marge Dickinson, that’s just how she is. Pushy and demanding. She means well though and she gets things done. She’s in charge of our casting, I suppose you would say. She’s in charge of whatever she wants to be in charge of. She and Emerald butt heads all the time. Both women like to have control.”

Gladwynn sighed. “Grandma, to be perfect for an acting role you have to have done some acting. I never have and don’t have any interest. I read books and write for a small town newspaper. Neither of those things qualify me to participate in one of the most extroverted activities there is.”

Lucinda handed her a script. “Just take this home. Look over it, and see what you think. Diana isn’t in the play as much as she is in the book. Plus, we’re weeding out a few scenes for time. Our actors can only stand so long before the bunions start chaffing or the varicose veins start popping.”

The back door opened, and Doris walked back inside. “It’s going straight to voicemail. I think I’ll head back to Willowbrook and see how she’s doing. I know she’s been taking sleeping pills for her insomnia, but I wouldn’t think she would taken them for a nap.” She picked up her purse from a small table at the back of the stage, then paused and snapped her fingers. “Oh wait! I can’t drive over. I left my car at the shop. Bill dropped me off.”

Gladwynn lifted her keys from her bag. “I can give you a lift. I was planning to head back to the house anyhow.”

“That will work,” Doris said as she slid her purse strap over her shoulder. “Then Sam can give me a lift back here.”

A warm breeze ruffled Gladwynn’s hair as she stepped onto the sidewalk and slid her sunglasses on. Doris sighed next to her. “My goodness it’s gorgeous out today. I’m so glad that humid weather we’ve been having finally let up.”

Gladwynn couldn’t help but agree. She was not a fan of weather that made her feel like she was walking in a sauna. Her hair wasn’t either. Today would be a perfect day to put down the roof of the convertible that she’d bought when she thought her research librarian job at the college was going to be more permanent than it turned out to be. Doris probably wouldn’t enjoy that full force wind in her face or hair, so she opted to keep the roof up, though.

She pulled the car out onto Main Street. “Doris, am I right in assuming that Samantha has her own place in the retirement community?”

“Yes. She has her own condo. It’s part of her salary package. She gets a place to stay and they get a full-time recreational director and all around go-to person. People go to her with their concerns and worries more than they do the community manager.”

“And who is the manager?”

“Eileen Bristol. She’s been here about four years. No one is really sure how she got the job. She’s not very nice and looks like she ate a jar of sour pickles. There are some who have questioned who she slept with to get her job, but no one can imagine who’d want to do such a thing considering how miserable she is.” Doris slapped the tips of her fingers over her mouth. “Excuse me. That was gossip. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Gladwynn patted her knee. “It’s okay, Doris. We all slip up from time to time. I know you didn’t mean to be malicious.”

The retirement community was only about half a mile from the theater. Doris pointed out Samantha’s condo and Gladwynn pulled her car into a parking space next to the car she’d seen at the lake earlier.

“You go on and head to work,” Doris said as she stepped out of the car. “Samantha can give me a ride back to the theater.”

“Okay, then. Have a good day, Doris.”

“You too. Don’t work too hard.”

Gladwynn’s cellphone rang as Doris closed the passenger side door. A small smile pulled at Gladwynn’s mouth as she answered it.

“Hey, sis.”

Gladwynn dropped her voice into a lower octave. “Hey, bro.”

“You at work?”

“Nope. It will probably change soon since a reporter left, but for now I have weekends off.”

Caelen laughed on the other end of the phone. “Enjoy it while you can, right?”

“Right. What’s up with you?”

“Thought I should call in and get the real story about how you’re doing. You know how Mom and Dad are. They tend to be a bit –”

“Dramatic, I know.”

She knew Caelen had decided not to spend  his summer break from college at home this year. Instead, he’d gotten a job at a construction company in Michigan. She also knew their dad wasn’t too happy about his decision. He’d planned on Caelen working at the law office during the summer. William Grant was definitely planning on his son joining the firm after college. After a few revealing conversations with Caelen, she had feeling that was not going to be happening.

“Heard Dad’s going to drop in on you in a few days.”

Gladwynn winced. “Yeah. Not sure how I got that honor.”

“You didn’t move far enough away like the rest of us. So, how are you doing?”

“Pretty good.”

“You’re liking your job?”

“It’s growing on me.”

“How’s Grandma?”

“Crazy as ever.”

“And her new boyfriend?”

“She says he isn’t her boyfriend, but he’s doing well.”

Caelen laughed. “Is it weird to see her with someone other than Grandpa?”

Gladwynn flipped the visor down and looked at her hair in the mirror. She moved a couple of stray strands off her forehead. “It was at first but Jacob’s a great guy. Super sweet. He’s got the sweetest dog he brings with him sometimes. He has lunch or dinner with us a few times a week.”

She heard the sound of cars behind him as he spoke. “You think they’ll get married?”

Gladwynn made a face at her reflection. “I don’t know about that, yet. Maybe? I’m not sure I’m ready for that, to be honest, and I don’t think she is either. She’s enjoying his companionship, though.” There was a pause in the conversation and she wondered if he had another reason for calling other than checking up on her. “So, what’s up with you, anyhow? How’s the new job?”

“It’s okay, I guess.”

There was another pause. She cleared her throat. “You still don’t want to be a lawyer, do you?”

Caelen let out a breath. “No. Not at all.”

“And you haven’t told Dad, have you?”

Another breath. “No.”

Gladwynn let out a brief breath herself. “Well, I hope you’re not calling me to ask me to tell him because I’m not going to. He already isn’t very happy with me. At this point, his youngest offspring are a great disappointment to him.”

Caelen snorted in disgust. “Which makes no sense. We’re allowed to have our own lives. He and Mom both need to accept that. I mean, it wasn’t your fault you got laid off and you took a chance and reinvented yourself. I think that’s cool.”

Gladwynn closed the mirror on the visor at the same moment Doris rushed out of the condo door looking over her shoulder, a terrified expression on her face. The woman stopped, turned back toward the door, and clasped her hands over her mouth, shaking her head slowly, her eyes closed.

Gladwynn reached for the door handle and opened it quickly. “Uh, Caelen. I need to go.”

“I thought you said you had the day off.”

 “I do, but something is going on.”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but I’m very worried that someone else isn’t. I’ll call you back later.”


Social media’s narcissim makes me sick to my stomach

My family needs help with our finances.

I write this not because I want your pity – God provides. He has in the past and he will again.

I say this to explain a couple of my actions recently.

Two weeks ago I joined TikTok to try to drum up some sales for my books and bring us in a little income. I did it despite having huge misgivings about the platform. HUGE MISGIVINGS.

I have made very little money from my books and that’s okay. I’ve had a lot of fun writing them and meeting other writers or connecting with my readers.

Still, if there was a chance I could bring in some sales, I needed to try.

So I started making videos for TikTok and Instagram and posts for Facebook.

Then, I became overwhelmed and, quite frankly, pretty disgusted with the insane amount of attention grabbing on social media. Yes, I realize I was starting to do the same to earn some money.

I share about my life on social media and on my blog. I like to connect with others and I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. I am not remotely interested in fame or being popular.

I am interested in making connections, having fun, and maybe bringing in a little income.

What I have seen on social media, though, has turned my stomach to the point I’m ready to walk away from the majority of it and go back to merely sharing my books on here, advertising by word of mouth and sharing for free where I can.

I have seen a woman crying in front of a camera when she sent her children to school and all I wanted to know was when did she set the camera up? Was it before she started crying or after or did she cry for the camera. I mean it seemed like a very realistic interaction with her husband but if she was so worried about her children going to their first day of school then at what point did she pause her worry in the moment to make sure the camera was set up correctly?

The worse example of this was the one of a woman climbing into her truck and sitting there crying with a box next to her. The box was her husband’s urn, the caption said. She’d just collected his ashes from the funeral home, she said. She and her children would have to live without him.

Yet, she’d had the forethought, before she went to get his ashes, to set her camera up on a tripod or something similar and record herself crying.

I’ve lost three aunts in the last five years. The last thing on my mind while I grieved them was that I should set up a camera to record myself crying.

I understand that it is good to connect with others going through something similar to us and one way to do this is through social media but when in the world did social media become our therapist and God?

Why in the world would people turn to their camera instead of praying to God? Why do we document every single second of our life? Nothing is sacred anymore. Nothing. Not even the death of a husband or the loss of a baby or the breakup of a marriage. People document all of it before they even process it.

There is a popular Christian speaker/author who documents her life tragedies in a new book every time one occurs. Sometimes I wonder if she creates drama simply so she can write about it and speak about it and make more money. The dust hasn’t even settled on one tragedy or crisis when she is writing about it and sending it to the publishers and then making Bible studies and speaking engagements around the book.

Her husband cheated on her, she wrote all about it and dragged him to counseling and they wrote all about it and held a renewal of vowels ceremony and she wrote a book. Then she developed breast cancer and wrote another book. Then she and her husband split – another book. This was all in about the span of four or five years. I don’t see how she ever had time to process any of what was happening to her. Some might say she was processing it through writing. I have processed some very serious situations in my life through writing but I have not shared all of what I have written. A lot of that is between me and God, not me, God and the rest of the world.

The term is narcissim, I think.

The desire to share your entire life with the world and then to watch the lives of others from your phone or computer without actually interacting with people.

There was a young woman on TikTok live that I saw last week that broke my heart. She might have been 15 and she was simply sitting in front of the camera with a red curtain behind her, wearing dark eyeliner and make up and a dress too old for her, her knees hugged to her chest while watching TV. She wasn’t doing anything other than watching TV while other people watched her and then once in a while she’d say, “Thanks for the rose.” I don’t know what a rose is on TikTok but I’m guessing some sort of payment? I have no idea but how sad is it that people were paying to watch a teenager sit and watch TV?

We live in a sick world and I don’t want to be part of it. I’ll continue to promote my books here and there, even on social media, but I just can’t put my entire life out there for everyone to see. It’s none of their business. Recording or documenting every second of my life just isn’t something that interests me in the least.

It makes me anxious trying to even keep up with videos to help get attention to my books. I can’t imagine the level of internal anxiety in those who record their whole lives for the world to see.

Sunday Bookends: Family outing, last of our swimming days, a variety of books, and getting ready for school

It’s time for our Sunday morning chat. On Sundays, I ramble about what’s been going on, what the rest of the family and I have been reading and watching, and what I’ve been writing. Some weeks I share what I am listening to.

This week I’m joining up with Kimba at Caffeinated Reviewer and Kathyrn at The Book Date.

What’s Been Occurring

I didn’t share a Saturday Afternoon Chat post yesterday because my week was fairly boring, but also because we were too busy yesterday for me to sit and write it. I like to start the post ahead of time but didn’t do it this week for some reason.

We didn’t do a ton during the week other than some cleaning at my parents, a bit of planning for  homeschool next week, writing for me, and the last week of work for The Boy who is getting ready to start a half day at a career center next week, in addition to homeschool.

Yesterday we had a wonderful family day out. We visited one of our favorite restaurants, located next to a covered bridge and a creek in a tiny little town in the middle of nowhere in our county.

After lunch there we visited the local state park which is literally up the road from the restaurant. I had no idea the state park was that close, but really I should have known since I used to visit there with my family when I was younger.

I had not visited there in years. It seemed smaller than I remember but the trails and cabins are all throughout the 780-acre park so we didn’t see all of it, of course. The park, incidentally, is called World’s End State Park. I’ve always wondered where the name of the park came from so I searched online last night and according to Wikipedia: “The name Worlds End has been used since at least 1872, but its origins are uncertain. Although it was founded as Worlds End State Forest Park by Governor Gifford Pinchot in 1932, the park was officially known as Whirls End State Forest Park from 1936 to 1943.” So, there you go.

I had hoped to take Little Miss to the swimming area there, which I went to a couple time as a kid, but it was closed because of high, rushing water, caused by heavy rains we had a couple of days ago. It was an insane storm that went on for two hours, with part of that time consisting of very heavy rain.

Not being able to visit the swimming area wasn’t a huge loss because it was not super hot yesterday. It was actually perfect fall weather – not too warm, not too cold. It was lovely and Little Miss was happy with being able to stick her feet in the edge of the creek. The rest of it was rushing water and wilder than I’ve seen a creek that close up in a long time. I am sure creeks have been that wild over the years, but I haven’t been that close to them before.

While we were by the water and put our feet in it, a young girl and her parents were making their way through the water and were making me very nervous. I was concerned the dad was going to get to close to the rapids and be swept away. Luckily, they were fairly close to the edge of the creek and being very careful not to get pulled down by the rapids. They were in swimsuits and swim shoes, so they were either camping there or had visited hoping to swim at the swimming area and were unable to.

The woman found a stick that looked like Moses’ staff in The Ten Commandments and she and I joked about parting the waters.

We were able to take Zooma the Wonder Dog with us to both places yesterday. Seating is outside for the restaurant and they welcome pets as long as they are on a leash. They even sell a “doggy meat bowl” for the dog’s that visit. Zooma, of course, received her own bowl. We were glad to be able to take her because many times we have to leave her home on our excursions.

She loved sniffing all over the parts of the state park we walked in as well but did not like when The Husband disappeared inside the visitor’s center without her.

We joke in our family about who Zooma loves more and the rest of the family says it is me, but I do notice she seems concerned when any member of the family disappears for too long. Yesterday she whimpered a couple of times when she couldn’t go where the rest of the family went or when one of them disappeared.

She was very happy when we were all together and she also passed out like a toddler who runs themselves into exhaustion when we arrived home.

Today Little Miss will have a couple of friends over for our last summer pool gathering before school begins on Monday. The pool is probably going to be way too cold to play in because the days and nights have been cooler, but we will see how it goes.

I can’t even believe summer is pretty much over. It went very fast and I feel like we didn’t do as much as we usually do as far as family outings and trips. It was a very hectic and stressful summer for many reasons and I am looking forward to a slower autumn. I laughed as I wrote the previous sentence because I said something similar in July about August and … well, it didn’t happen.

September will be a bit busy because my parents 60th wedding anniversary is September 8 and we are holding an open house/anniversary party on September 9. I was all calm about it and figured we could handle it but as we get closer, I feel a bit anxious about pulling it off. Thankfully my brother and sister-in-law are helping me since it was sort of their idea (and sort of mine too). We are renting a place down the road from my house and hopefully it all works out well.


What I/we’ve been Reading

I finished Ellie Alexander’s Meet the Baker Friday and two books I’ve been wanting to read came in from Libby this week: Crime and Poetry by Amanda Flowers and Paper Cuts by Ellery Adams. They are both cozy mysteries.

Crime and Poetry came first so I am going to start that first. This will be my third book by Amanda. I’ve heard great things about Paper Cuts and it will be my first by Ellery Adams.

I am also reading a few chapters a week of Anne of Ingleside by L.M. Montgomery. This is my first time reading it and it’s already a comfort read for me. I’ve been taking these books slow, partly because of the old language, and partly because I love to savor them. My husband purchased the series for me two Christmases ago so I’ve been making my way through them since then.

I am making a list of books I want to read this fall and I’ll probably ramble about them next week.

The Husband finished Born Standing Up by Steve Martin and now he is reading Plan B by Lee and Richard Child.

Little Miss and I are reading a cute mystery she picked up at the library sale a couple of weeks ago. I don’t have it in front of me right now and I don’t want to go find it, so I don’t know the title.

I plan to start Gone Away Lake by Elizabeth Enright, which Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs, and her son Wyatt sent to us, with her tomorrow as part of our school lessons.

The Boy is not reading anything right now but he will start The Red Badge of Courage later this week for school.

Photos from Last Week

What We watched/are Watching

It has been a Newhart week this week. I’ve needed the escape for sure.

I started The Misfits with Marilyn Monroe and will finish it this week. It’s depressing.

The Husband and I also watched an episode of Poirot.

Little Miss watched a ton of Bluey and Duck Tales and now she’s rewatching The Lion Guard.

What I’m Writing

I am still working on Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage and I shared the first chapter on Friday.

I hope to share additional chapters in the following weeks.

On the blog I shared:

Now it’s your turn

Now it’s your turn. What have you been doing, watching, reading, listening to or writing? Let me know in the comments or leave a blog post link if you also write a weekly update like this.

Find me on Instagram and Facebook.

Review: The Word is Murder by Anthony Horowitz

Book: The Word is Murder

Author: Anthony Horowitz

Release Date: June 5, 2018

Genre: Mystery

This is my second book by Anthony Horowitz and this one was much different than the first I read.

I read Moriarty a couple of years ago and loved it.

I already knew before reading this book that Horowitz was brilliant but after reading this one, which is the first of a series where he incorporates himself into a fictional story, I have decided that he is even more brilliant.

A little background on Horowitz: He is the creator and writer for some well-loved UK mystery shows included Foyle’s War, Midsomer Murders, Injustice, and New Blood, among others. He is also the author of 50 books, including the popular teen spy book series, Alex Rider, Magpie Murders, and two Sherlock Holmes books.

I truly wasn’t sure what to think of this book when I first started it and there was a point where I thought he was going to go on a rant about a social issue and really considered putting the book down. In the end, he didn’t go on the rant I thought he would.  I also couldn’t put the book down for the very reason Horowitz says in the book he couldn’t walk away from the case he becomes wrapped up in – we both had to know who killed Diane Cowper.

I wanted to know how she died too and it was why I was up more than one night/morning until 1 in the morning reading it.

The book opens in a way that ensures that there is no way you’re going to put it down.

A woman walks into a funeral parlor and plans her own funeral. Later that day she is murdered.

Daniel Hawthorne is a former cop who becomes the consultant on the case. Horowitz has worked with him before as a consultant on a show called Injustice and now Hawthorne wants to know if  Horowitz wants to write a book about him. As a quick reminder, the show is real, Hawthorne is not. There is a lot of blending of fact and fiction in this book and there were times I wondered which was which.

I knew there was some truth when Horowitz wrote about meeting with Hollywood heavy hitters like Peter Jackson and Steven Spielberg.

Horowitz was actually supposed to write the screenplay for the sequel to The Adventures of TinTin and it’s unclear why the project never took off but in this book the theory is that Hawthorne interrupted Horowitz’s meeting with Jackson and Spielberg and both of the men wandered off to pursue other projects.

When I first began reading the chapter where Horowitz started detailing his involvement with Tintin and what the comic and the movie was about, etc., I was bewildered. What did this have to do with who murdered Diane Cowper? Why did I care? Why was he writing about this?

It turned out to be one of the funniest chapters in the book and it made sense because it showed Hawthorne’s character – specifically how clueless he is about current events and current entertainment (he didn’t even know who Spielberg was) and how absolutely inconsiderate he is of others.

From the book:

‘Who are you?’ Spielberg asked.

Hawthorne pretended to notice him for the first time. ‘I’m Hawthorne,’ he said.

‘I’m with the police.’

‘You’re a police officer?’

‘No. He’s a consultant,’ I cut in. ‘He’s helping the police with an investigation.’

‘A murder,’ Hawthorne explained, helpfully, once again sitting on that first vowel to make the word somehow more violent than it already was. He was looking at Spielberg, only now recognising him. ‘Do I know you?’ he asked.

‘I’m Steven Spielberg.’

‘Are you in films?’

I wanted to weep.”

As the book progresses, and especially after this incident, Horowitz isn’t sure he wants to take on the project and continues to be unsure, even as he begins tagging along with Hawthorne as Hawthorne investigates Diane Cowper’s case. Hawthorne is extremely unlikeable, rude, and judgmental. Horowitz wants to walk away but if he does, he won’t know what happened to the woman whose death may have been related to an accident she was involved in a decade before.

There are tons of red herrings in this book. There are also tons of amazing descriptions by Horowitz, especially of Hawthorne.

Here is a couple I highlighted on my Kindle:

“He had the same silken quality as a panther or a leopard, and there was a strange malevolence in his eyes – they were a soft brown – that seemed to challenge, even to threaten, me. He was about forty years old with hair of an indeterminate colour that was cut very short around the ears and was just beginning to turn grey. He was clean-shaven. His skin was pale. I got the feeling that he might have been very handsome as a child but something had happened to him at some time in his life so that, although he still wasn’t ugly, he was curiously unattractive. It was as if he had become a bad photograph of himself. He was smartly dressed in a suit, white shirt and tie, the raincoat now held over his arm. He looked at me with almost exaggerated interest, as if I had somehow surprised him. Even as I came in, I got the feeling that he was emptying me out.”

And another one:

“Hawthorne nodded. I always knew when he was about to go on the attack. It was as if someone had waved a knife in front of his face and I had seen it reflected, for an instant, in his eyes.”

One aspect of the book I didn’t enjoy was toward the end when Horowitz added in this very long explanation and speech by one of the characters. It went on for pages and I really didn’t understand the point of it at all, unless it was to throw the reader off the scent. He did this a few times in Moriarity as well and I didn’t enjoy it. He seemed to forget he was writing a book and not a speech for one of the characters in the screenplay for one of his shows.

That  one disappointment and a few other rambling explanations didn’t take away from the book overall, however, and I’m looking forward to reading the remaining three in the series. My husband says the third book is the best. A fifth book in the series is also being written from what I read this week.

I enjoyed this book as a reader, but also as a writer. Horowitz had some interesting personal insights about the writing process that I could relate to especially now that I am writing mysteries myself.

Here are a couple of the quotes I especially enjoyed:

“The hardest part of writing murder stories is thinking up the plots and at that particular moment I didn’t have any more in my head. After all, there are only so many reasons why anyone wants to kill someone else. You do it because you want something from them: their money, their wife, their job. You do it because you’re afraid of them. They know something about you and perhaps they’re threatening you. You kill them out of revenge because of something they knowingly or unknowingly did to you.”

And

“The modern writer has to be able to perform, often to a huge audience. It’s almost like being a stand-up comedian except that the questions never change and you always end up telling the same jokes.”

If you haven’t gathered, I would recommend this book if you enjoy a good mystery. As for it’s clean rating, it is not clean in many ways but it is also not overly graphic, there is no sex, and the cursing is minimal but when it does happen it is the big ones (think the one that starts with “f” – if your mind will even allow you to think of it.)

Summer of Marilyn: Monkey Business and All About Eve

A sinus thing that wasn’t exactly an illness but a weather change thing hit me last week so I ended up forgetting to finish watching my one Marilyn movie and watching the other one. In other words, I have a good excuse for being late on my Marilyn movie impressions.

I’m going to be sharing about two Marilyn Monroe movies this week since I have been so behind on watching and writing about them. They are two very, very different movies on different ends of the spectrum – Monkey Business and All About Eve.

First up: Monkey Business.

Cary Grant is an absent minded professor in this screwball comedy that he stars in with Marilyn and Ginger Rogers.

Ginger is the straight man (woman) in this one with Cary being more of the goofball with the biggest bottle cap glasses I have ever seen him in. They looked more like something Jerry Lewis would wear.

This is very early Marilyn, so she almost likes like Norma Jean probably looked before she became Marilyn, but not quite. She still has the pouty lips and short hair, but the hair looks darker to me in th is film.

Marilyn plays the secretary of Cary’s boss and in their first scene together she shows Cary the stockings he invented and how they look on her legs. Cary’s character, showing his true nerdy self, is more interested in the stocking than the legs they are covering, of course.

The premise of the movie is rather silly but silly is a wonderful escape from life so I liked that it was silly.

Cary is working on a formula that could help people look and feel younger. It also, apparently, makes them more virile – ahem. The monkey they test it on is very interested in the female monkey, despite being 84 in monkey years. The monkey Is also able to move around like a young monkey after taking the formula.

This is after many of the tests did not yield any results.

 
(As I side note here, I must say that I don’t know many other actresses who have a hip sway like Marilyn. I am completely jealous of it and the shape of her. Sigh.)

It’s the monkey that finally mixes the winning concoction for a type of youth formula and then proceeds to pour it in the water cooler. Cary and his fellow professors don’t know this, of course, so when Cary decides he’s going to be the guinea  pig and take his own formula and then wash it down with the water from the cooler. So Cary believes that his formula is what helps him when he suddenly can see without his glasses and then becomes like a teenager and runs off with Marilyn’s character to buy a new car.

After Ginger learns that Cary tested the formula on himself, she decides she should be the test subject and she takes the formula, which we know doesn’t work, but it tastes so awful she washes it down with the cooler water.

Now she becomes the young and crazy 20 something year old.

She ends up with teenage angst complete with crying and breaking down at Cary. It’s a hilarious but ridiculous scene. I have a feeling Ginger had a blast filming it.

Ginger even gets a chance to dance a bit in the film, even though that isn’t the main focus, when she’s feeling a lot younger.

The film is a low-key romance with the two of them realizing even under the influence of the formula how much they love each other.

Luckily the formula does wear off and when both have had it wear off, they decide the formula could cause more harm than good. Cary is going to destroy the formula and that’s when they decide to make a pot of coffee with the water from the cooler. Ah, yes, I’m sure you know where this is going. Craziness is about to ensue so hold on to your seats.

You’ll have to watch it to see what happens, which reminds me, you can watch it for free on YouTube here:

I pulled a bit of trivia off of IMbd about the movie and some of it was very interesting. Here are a few tidbits:

  • The exterior shots of the Oxly Chemical Co. office building where Barnaby works were actually shots of the Executive Building on the 20th Century Fox studio lot. The building is now known as the Old Executive Building.
  • The sports car used in the film was a red 1952 MG TD Roadster, which was put into storage by 20th Century-Fox after filming wrapped. It was purchased by Debbie Reynolds in a 1971 sale of Marilyn Monroe memorabilia (despite the fact Monroe herself never owned the car). It sustained a dent in the front bumper when Cary Grant hit a fence while driving it. Reynolds had the transmission rebuilt, then put it up for auction in 2011. It sold for $210,000.
  • Among the movie star photos Marilyn Monroe taped to her bedroom wall when she was a foster child were several of Cary Grant. She was thrilled to be co-starring with him in this film, a break-through role in her then fast-rising movie career.
  • Forty year old (forty-one at the time of release) Ginger Rogers was the oldest leading lady to ever star in a Howard Hawks picture.
  • Marilyn Monroe plays the character Lois Laurel. The real Lois Laurel is the only daughter of comedian Stan Laurel of the comedy team Laurel & Hardy.
  • Shares a title with the otherwise unrelated 1931 Marx Brothers comedy “Monkey Business,” though the films have some vague connections: Early in his career, Cary Grant was partly inspired by Zeppo Marx, the team’s parodic juvenile straight man. In addition, the 1931 film co-starred Thelma Todd, whose life, career, and mysterious death parallel Grant’s co-star here, Marilyn Monroe.

This movie was so much fun and I really did enjoy it. I mentioned above that Ginger must have had so much fun filming that one scene but I have a feeling they all had a ton of fun. It was absolute ridiculous and hilarious fun.

All About Eve

Now, Marilyn is not a main actress in this film, but it was one of her first movies and she was considered a standout in it, and my husband suggested it, so I included it in my list to watch this summer. Marilyn was 23 when the movie was made and just about to break her career wide open.

This movie was nominated for 14 Oscars and won six, including best picture. It is the only film in Oscar history to have four women nominated, including Bette Davis, Anne Baxter for actress and Celeste Holm and Thelma Ritter for supporting actress. Released in 1950, it made $3.1 million, more than half of it’s $1.4 million production costs.

Bette Davis is a famous stage actress named Margo who Eve Harrington, played by Anne Baxter, goes to meet one night after watching her show every single night during its run.

This is my first movie with Bette, by the way, and it did not disappoint.

Eve is very peculiar to say the least as this movie starts. She tells the actress and the producer and writers about her sad life of losing her husband early in their marriage and staying in San Francisco to make a new life for herself and her love of acting and the theater.

You know right away that something just feels off about her, even though the movie starts with her being honored as a well-known actress. She really inserts herself into the lives of these people and weasels her way into the acting jobs she wants, pushing others out of the way for it.

With her sob story, Margo welcomes her into her home and she becomes her confidant, her assistant, and everything you can think of that requires Eve to wait on Margo. It’s clear that Eve wants Margo’s job and as time goes on it is clear she’ll find a way to get it, mainly by being Margo’s everything. Actually, she’s a little too everything. She starts doing things that Margo doesn’t ask her to do and making herself look better than Margo. It’s a very strange obsession.

Margo begins to notice how attentive Eve is to her boyfriend and everything else. She also begins to compare herself to Eve and feel old around her. To her it’s time for Eve to move on because she has a feeling Eve is much more interested in taking her place, not just waiting on her. |

Marilyn doesn’t come in until more than 40 minutes into the movie and I didn’t even recognize her. She was beautiful, sure, but her hair was styled differently and she was a minor character. It was clear she was ready for stardom though and George Sanders uttered a premonition of sorts when he said, “Well done. I can see your career rising in the east like the sun.”

And soon after this movie, it did just that.

Her character Miss Casswell has the middle name of the author of the short story that was never credited for her part in the movie – Mary Orr.

She’s so young looking in the movie – it’s crazy. And, of course, she’s sort of passed off as someone sent in to make producers and directors happy because she’s sexy and flirtatious.

I searched online to see what critics said of Marilyn’s performance and found a few opinions. Here s one:

Lyvie Scott on Slashfilms.com said Marilyn stole the scenes she was in in All About Eve and I’d have to agree. She had some of the best lines, such as where Eve says she doesn’t know what she’d talk about with Dr. Dewitt (George Sanders) and Marilyn says, “Don’t worry about it. You won’t even get a word in the whole time.” Or something along those lines.

A bit off topic here, but George Sanders always reminds me of John De Lancie who played Q on Star Trek.

Scott wrote of Marilyn, “Monroe’s role in “All About Eve,” though small, is one of the most memorable of the film. It’s difficult to focus on anyone but Monroe when she’s in the room. Knowing just how famous she would become, it all feels like a testament to her inescapable star power.”

Scott, of course, details what others detail about Marilyn on film sets throughout the years. She was often late and had a hard time nailing her lines and was a bit difficult to work with overall. Marilyn tried to blame her inability to remember her lines on nerves and that very well may have been the case since she was acting next to Bette Davis and the fact that she’d only come off the success of one other film, “The Asphalt Jungle” before this.

Davis wasn’t really buying her excuses. According to Scott’s article: “Unfortunately, Davis was less than impressed with Monroe. Famously temperamental on set, she was already put off by the younger actress’s tardiness. And after so many retakes for a scene which, to her, must have been a breeze, Davis apparently snapped — and Monroe had to excuse herself to vomit offstage.”

Read More: https://www.slashfilm.com/806889/filming-all-about-eve-was-more-than-marilyn-monroe-could-handle/

It’s just so humorous to me that in this movie they pan Marilyn’s audition to be the understudy of Bette’s character when she would rise to stardom faster than almost all of them, except Bette. She might not have been as good of an actress, especially when compared to Bette, but she still seemed to shoot up even faster – probably because of her looks (aka breasts and hips).

I’m talking more about Marilyn in this post because my feature is called Summer of Marilyn, but I should be talking about Anne Baxter and Bette Davis more, especially considering Marilyn was only in this movie about ten minutes, if that. Both of the other actresses were very good in this, even though I could not stand the way Anne Baxter talked and how overly dramatic and maudlin she was. That was, however, her character so, in other words, she was brilliant in making me hate her.

As for Bette – wow. She knocked it out of the park. Here is what Roger Ebert said about her performance on his site:

Growing older was a smart career move for Bette Davis, whose personality was adult, hard-edged and knowing. Never entirely comfortable as an ingenue, she was glorious as a professional woman, a survivor, or a b***** predator. Her veteran actress Margo Channing in “All About Eve” (1950) was her greatest role; it seems to show her defeated by the wiles of a younger actress, but in fact marks a victory: the triumph of personality and will over the superficial power of beauty. She never played a more autobiographical role.”

Besides Bette and Anne Baxter, George Sanders was absolute perfection at being a dirty, crooked journalist. His speech toward the end of the movie was just absolutely outstanding and  

She seems so innocent and idealistic but deep down she’s just pretty selfish to me. She wants a career and she doesn’t care whose coat tails she rides, or whose head she steps on, to get there. She’ll do it with big, watery eyes and a tipped head, of course.

The film is mainly about jealousy and ambition and the tangled web that both can weave, but it is also very much about the dread of getting older, especially for women. Margo feels that Eve is stealing everything from her because she is young. Off screen, Bette Davis was terrified of growing old and this part fit her well, as Ebert said. When she was talking about the dread of growing old in the movie, she was speaking from personal experience, not just from the experience of the character.

At one point she says, “Funny business, a woman’s career — the things you drop on your way up the ladder so you can move faster. You forget you’ll need them again when you get back to being a woman. That’s one career we gals have in common is being a woman.”

So far All About Eve has been one of the best films I’ve watched but not because of Marilyn, even though she was great in it. The best film I watched with her in it was a tie between Niagra and Some Like it Hot. We will see if The Misfits knocks one of those movies off the list when I watch it later this week.

Have you seen either of these movies? What did you think?

Sunday Bookends: Reading mysteries, enjoying the last drops of summer, and still watching Marilyn


It’s time for our Sunday morning chat. On Sundays, I ramble about what’s been going on, what the rest of the family and I have been reading and watching, and what I’ve been writing. Some weeks I share what I am listening to.

This week I’m joining up with Kimba at Caffeinated Reviewer and Kathyrn at The Book Date.


What I/we’ve been Reading

Last week I finished The Word is Murder by Anthony Horowitz. I enjoyed it very much and will have a review up for it at some point this week (I hope! My plans keep getting messed up each week, so we will see).

This week I am reading Meet Your Baker by Ellie Alexander. It is a cozy mystery.

I also plan to read a couple chapters of Anne of Ingleside because I enjoy the little stories in the book and it’s just something lovely and light to read.

I may also start one of the books I picked up at the library book sale last week. As I mentioned in my post yesterday – I went a little crazy with picking up books. My son claims I won’t read any of them and tried to say I hadn’t read any of the ones I’d picked up at the last sale. That’s actually untrue. I read at least one or two and my daughter and I read a few together as well. This year I picked up a lot of books we can use for homeschooling so I am very sure I will read those too.

I really want to finish When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit by Judith Kerr that I picked up from the library but it has an awful smell to it because it is so old and it is giving me a headache. I have to be careful with mildew smells. They tend to overwhelm me. I got halfway through the book before it really bothered me so maybe I can push through because I am enjoying it. It is a middle grade book but it has a lot of deep themes.

The Husband is reading The Devil’s Hand by Jack Carr.

Little Miss and I finished The Boxcar Children: Surprise Island this past week and have not started a new book yet. She’s reading Saving Winslow by Sharon Creech on her own or I read some at night.

I also ordered her her own copy of Fortunately the Milk by Neil Gaiman and she breezed through most of that on two car rides this week. I thought she’d love to hold the book and look at the photos since we’ve mainly listened to it and the other copy we have is my son’s. He’s very possessive about it because that’s one of the main books his dad read to him when he was little and it’s a core memory for him. She was happier when she opened that book than when she opened a stuffed toy I picked her up this past week and if you knew Little Miss, you would know she’s obsessed with what she calls “stuffies.” I wish I had taken a photo of her holding that book and jumping up and down.

What’s Been Occurring

Things were crazy last week and I wrote about it in yesterday’s post if you want to check it out.

Writing it all out here again would be tedious, traumatizing and exhausting so I don’t think I will.

Photos from Last Week

What We watched/are Watching

I watched All About Eve and will have a post about it and Monkey Business for my Summer of Marilyn feature this week. I also plan to watch The Misfits and write about it. that will close out my Marilyn Monroe feature for this summer and then Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs and I will be joining together for a fall and winter feature of movies that I will update you on later.

This week I also clamored for comfort watches like All Creatures Great and Small (the new one), Anne of Green Gables from 1985 (Which Little Miss and I are making The Husband watch with us), and Newhart.

I will probably watch a lot of those same shows this week.

What I’m Writing

I’ve been working on Gladwynn Grant Takes Center Stage off and on and I hope to write more this week but, again, my plans have been all over the place. I also have several blog posts started that I hope to finish.

Last week on the blog I shared:

Blog Posts I Enjoyed This Past Week

I didn’t have a lot of time to read blog posts this week but here are two I enjoyed:

Hamelette’s Soliloquy: A Sunshine Blogger Award  

Mama’s Empty Nest: Tuesday’s Tour: Land of Sculptures

Now it’s your turn

Now it’s your turn. What have you been doing, watching, reading, listening to or writing? Let me know in the comments or leave a blog post link if you also write a weekly update like this.