No Comment

I’ve seen people on email lists and blog sites complain because they don’t get comments on their posts. Goodness knows I’m guilty of reading blogs and not commenting. The only blog I comment on regularly is FatalFoodies, because I post there myself and want other people to comment on my posts, self-serving back-scratcher that I am.

So here I am, back in town. I’m becoming addicted to high-speed internet. If I could get my husband to start jonesing for it, too (Is that term out of style now? If people my age are using it, it probably is), we might get it at home. But then what excuse could I have to hitch up the buckboard and drive into town? I’d have to collect a raft of errands to justify it. Love the luxury of being at the library (or the coffee shop) with the sound of traffic all around and folks wandering in and out of my view. One of the many nice things about living in a small town is how often you see people you know–and usually like–anywhere you go.

Fatal Foodies is having an open mic night tonight. I’ll be accessing it on my dial-up, which disconnects itself erratically, so it’s liable to be spotty for me, at best. It used to happen when I went to chats with the Patrick Bauchau fans, and I would return and be advised to fasten myself onto the list with duct tape. Didn’t work.

Although no one reads this blog–and why should anyone read it–it’s BORING–I’m going to post a writing exercise, just in case anybody stumbles in by accident and actually reads this far:

You are sitting in the library and someone passes the window. You’re working on your laptop, which is plugged into the wall socket. The door is at the other end of the building. The person who passes is going away from the door. This is someone from your past, someone you never thought you would see again, someone you very much want or need to speak to. Who is it, what’s the backstory, what do you do?

 

Roughing It

I came into town and met our #3 daughter–well, when I say “town”, I mean this small town. It isn’t what we used to call a “one-horse” town, it’s way too cool for that, but it’s really small. It was sort of a 1 1/2 horse town, but then somebody opened a coffee house with live entertainment and free wi-fi access, so now it’s more 1 3/4.

Anyway, I have another meeting to go to later, and I didn’t want to drive in from the country, drive back home and drive out again, so I made a sammich and I’m sitting in the coffee shop eating it and drinking Peach Mango Fuze (mmmmmmm….) and contemplating a cream cheese cranberry muffin as big as my head. Tough life.

I’m blogging on a group blog called Fatal Foodies. We write about mysteries and food, not necessarily in that order of importance. We’re having an “open mic” night on Tuesday, July 15 at 8:45pm Eastern time and giving away books to the first four guests.

I finished my ghost story. It’s called Elinir, and it’ll be in the Southern Indiana Writers’ SPIRITS ON THE SQUARE–AND ELSEWHERE anthology, out by this October. I’m taking it to the meeting tonight to read for critique. Pray for me.

Oh!–I made a store at CafePress! I write a tiny little flash fiction story every month for my web site, and I put a year’s worth together and put them on the back of shirts. And on a barbeque apron, tote bags and a mouse pad. it’s at the MA’s Flashbacks 2007 store. Wheeee!