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Friday Fare: 5/18/18

In a world where you can be anything, always be yourself.  Unless you can be Batman – or have one of the Batmans give your college’s commencement address.

Want to wear socks like the Pope’s?  Apparently this is a thing and possible.

Vanity Fair had an interesting first-person narrative about one woman’s adventure with a “magician of Manhattan.”

Fried. Bologna. Sandwiches.  I want to go there.

And in the social media world, I just want to say that my cat is eons cooler than I am?  Witness that the fiddle player from Old Crow Medicine Show liked one of my Instagram posts.  Was it of my adorable kids?  My writing world?  My love of craft beer?  No – he loved the picture of my feline. (Because my cat is rather adorable.)

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Listening: The past couple of weeks have been long and rather emotional.  I’ve had this song on near constant repeat in my car.

The following lyric has meant a lot to me: “What became of you girl, what became of me? / She said / I had good fortune / Silver silk and wool /
I gave them all away and now my heart is full…”

Reading: Finished Thomas Harris’s “Silence of the Lambs.”  And damn.  There’s a reason why that book is a classic.  Reading “Red Sparrow” by Jason Matthews.  And the love story between the two protagonists is coming into focus, because the adage is true – books are usually better than the movies made out of them.  Also, my dear friend Emily is published in an anthology that features novellas inspired by “Beauty and the Beast.”  So proud of my friend and loving her story!

Writing Life: Butt in chair, fingers on keyboard.  Or more precisely – butt in chair at my local Panera Bread and my hands clutching an ink pen while I hammer away at edits.  Sometimes old school is OK.  Especially when you just need to get the job done.

– Shelley

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What is Friday Fare? As a recap, on Fridays I post link love to the various bits of arcane shiz I discover on the Interwebs.  I liken it to a glimpse into my mind, but without the 80s song lyrics or mental cobwebs.

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Friday Fare

Friday Fare: 5/11/18 (In Memoriam Edition)

My cousin died this week.  And while my father is one of five children and the majority of them went on to have 2-3 kids, resulting in a plethora of cousins; my mom has one sister and both of them had two children. Four grandchildren, four first cousins – two boys and two girls.  Four musketeers that were raised to basically be siblings (including the fights, oh lordy the fights were stupid-epic.).  And now, we are down one.  And god, my heart has a fault line created early Sunday morning when my mom called to tell me that her bonus son had fallen and died of his injuries.

Let’s not sugarcoat things.  My cousin wasn’t perfect, I’m not perfect – our relationship reflected this imperfection.  I cannot drive the heavy machinery that he seemed born to operate and he could barely use a computer.  He drank Busch Light and I drink craft beer.  But we loved our grandparents.  We have all the shared memories that come out of childhood.  A Waylon Jennings CD was on top of the stack of discs I found in his kitchen, so the kid had good taste in music.  (Yes, he was a 38-year-old man, but I was older – so I get to call him a kid.)  There were times this week that I wondered if he thought that I was weird and frivolous, but to be honest – we probably didn’t spend much time thinking about each other, because we were just there.  Most of the time, family just shows up and my cousin and I were good at that.

My cousin was a good man.  He was one hell of a hard worker.  He didn’t talk a lot, but he showed up early to family gatherings and he’d just take it all in.  He drove a truck, he had a dog.  I watched a lot of burly men cry this week as they remembered one of the greatest friends they’ll ever have.  He leaves his dad, his mom and her husband, his baby sister, a trio of stepsiblings, his aunts and uncles, a lot of cousins.  He was buried on an unseasonably cool spring day in a beautiful church cemetery in the country.  I was comforted to see that he’s beside his beloved uncle Gene and close to his paternal grandparents, Ben and Virginia. 

His memory is a blessing, but for the rest of my days I’m going to miss my bonus brother.

Friday Fare

Friday Fare: 5/4/18

What is Friday Fare? As a recap, on Fridays I post link love to the various bits of arcane shiz I discover on the Interwebs.  I liken it to a glimpse into my mind, but without the 80s song lyrics or mental cobwebs.

My eldest child was already picking some “dandi-flowers” on the way to school this AM, so I think it’s time to change up the banner on ye ‘ol Friday Fare.

I’m an ex-journalist and as a mentor once told me, it’s important to fact check EVERYTHING.  Even the claim that your mother loves you.  Pro tip?  Using Wikipedia is NOT the same thing as using a reputable source for fact checking.  Don’t believe me?  See here.

I’ve got a bunch of big love in my heart for Sturgill Simpson.  And I also understand the angst that comes with being a writer.  Reading this article by Leesa Cross-Smith was a treat as it combines the aforementioned. (PS – Oxford American is probably one of my favorite online reading spots these days.  I don’t read them all the time, but they have some fine contributors.)

Career Authors has become one of my FAVORITE writing spots on the Interwebs.  It features contributors who are luminaries in the mystery world like Hank Phillipi Ryan, Paula Munier, and more.  They recently ran a post by Jenny Milchman that talked about the difficulties of balancing family and the writing life.  And I thought back to the day that I left for Killer Nashville.  My in-laws agreed to watch my kiddos until my husband joined them for the weekend and instead of leaving to hugs and well wishes, I was nearly in tears because my youngest son decided to start projectile vomiting as I was preparing to continue my southern road trip.  It was a rough mom-ing moment in my life.  (And I should add … youngest was fine.  My husband brought his mom a bouquet of flowers.  And I got first runner-up for the Claymore Award.  I like to think that there’s been no lasting damage.)

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Listening: Last week, I talked about my trio of awesome concert experience and shared that I saw Willie Watson at the Cavalier Theater in LaCrosse.  I’ve had this song on near constant repeat since then.  (And bonus … my eldest also knows the words, which makes us folk geeks.  Or adorable.  You pick.)

Reading: I just finished Kathryn Lane’s “Waking Up in Medellin.”  Ms. Lane won Killer Nashville’s Silver Falchion in 2017 for this book.  And it’s good, Lane writes amazing actions scenes. There were a couple parts of the book that I couldn’t suspend my disbelief on.  (i.e. – I rooted for the romantic pairing, but didn’t think that the main character would be getting it on while her life was in peril.  But hey … I could be wrong.)

I have a heart full of congrats and excitement for the next book on my list.  My dear, dear friend Emily Allen West has a novella out with a bunch of other writers.  “Of Beasts and Beauties” is next on my Kindle.

Writing Life: Writing is a marathon, not a sprint and I’m still wogging (walk/jogging) along. I have Sunday to myself since I’m solo parenting this Saturday and I’m looking forward to figuring out what the hell is wrong with the last half of my book.   

May your coffee be hot and your lawn not totally full of dandi-flowers.

– Shelley