Last Year's Ugly-This Year's Healthy

Last year's ugly heirloom-this year's good sauce

2012 On the plains in Northern Arizona, two families joined forces and began the trials and tribulations of building a small family farm with nothing in the bank but love.

I finished reading the fourth book of Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series yesterday morning while sitting on Lake Mohave. Beautiful day - seventy degrees, sunny, water was glassy and Frank was casting for bass. Now what has this to do with Tortuga Flats Farm? Several days ago, I learned that marigolds are supposed to keep insects away. I'm going to plant some around certain crops that are prone to infestation. Gabaldon is a 'smart' author in that her books are usually well researched and fact based. In this series, her heroine is a time traveler and is in the eighteenth century. She mentions using marigolds to keep bugs away from some food in her home.

As we become more in tune with our crops and our life on our prairie farm, I've learned that much of what we do or know dates way back. I mean way, way back - such as the marigolds. I may be a geek, but I found that really interesting.

Chamomile

Living with a pregnant lady is also educational when it comes to what we grow and consume. For instance, fresh ginger is good for morning sickness. Chamomile (I harvested a ton of this and am still making tea from our dried plants) is not good for pregnant ladies. Chamomile has anti-inflammatory properties which would be bad for a fetus heart.

Here's a fact I found very odd but Lance can attest that it works - cayenne pepper helps defray heartburn. I would think the opposite.

Zucchini is good for dogs. We include it in our dogs' meals.

Canned tomatoes/tomato sauce is better for you than fresh tomatoes.

Jarred potatoes are tasty. This is merely my own insight. We tried freezing and jarring. Both are good, but I have a particular liking for the jarred potatoes. They get kind of sweet and have a peculiar texture.

We haven't started on the greenhouse yet. Got the quote from the watering system company and it'll cost us about $850 to set up the fields and the greenhouse. Lance was happy with the quote, BUT we won't be buying it this month. Still have a bit of time. We have about a month before we have to get serious about building the greenhouse or getting the irrigation set up. I predict a flurry of activity in April and May.

How Important is a Title? Huge!

Muse Monday
Coming up with titles is a struggle. Sometimes they come to me as if out of ether. Others take a hammer and a crow bar to pry an idea from my head.

I don't believe I've ever known the title of a story or book before well into the manuscript, except once. One of my favorite published short stories, Amanda in the Summer, came to me from a wedding announcement. In fact, the entire story grew from the title. The announcement was printed on an 8 1/2 x 11 page of parchment. The bride's name was Amanda and it was a summer wedding. When I pulled the page out of the envelope, it was folded so that the words Amanda, in and summer aligned. Amanda in the Summer struck my fancy.

My first published novel, Sleeping with the Lights On, had the working title Of Men and Bullshit. I knew that wouldn't stick but because I drew on my sister's dating experiences, well, it fit. It was somewhere around page two hundred that the title came to me. Abby asks Sandra how she can get any sleep if her husband doesn't come home that night. Sandra tells her to sleep with the lights on - which she's been doing since her divorce. And so we hope Sandra finds love again so she can turn the lights off.

The same sort of epiphany gave me the title for Honey On White Bread. I didn't even have a working title. There were scenes that would come to me while riding in the car or falling asleep at night. One of those times, I saw my heroine, Claire, and the hero, Benjamin, in a sweet moment. (This story takes place in 1945.) Ben explains to Claire why she's so special.
 

“You know what honey does to plain white bread?” He kissed my cheek softly, his lips like the touch of a butterfly wing. “You dribble it on, slow…and…thick. The bread soaks the honey in and changes.” His lips caressed my earlobe. “Well, I’m white bread to your honey.”

 
My short story about a blind date, which I originally titled Blind Date (brilliant, huh?) became Tattoos, Leather and Studs because the hero is wearing just that. And I wanted a sexy title.

Right now I'm working on a three book series. The titles I've come up with may or may not hold once an editor gets them. Because they're a series, I wanted a common thread. They are mystery/suspense and of course romance. Love and Murder series sounded good to me. The first book concerns art so The Art of Love and Murder is the title. But I didn't come up with either the series name or the book title until the first book was written. I put out a cry for help on Facebook for the second and third book. I needed to submit the series to my agent and couldn't do it without titles - an impossible task for me before I've even written the books. With help from my FB friends I have Southwest of Love and Murder (the book takes place in the southwest) and A Legacy of Love and Murder (the plot deals with an inheritance).

The last book I released, The Morning After, has a funny story about the title. I can't remember what title I suggested to my editor once the book was accepted, but she didn't like it. I submitted five more titles and she vetoed all of them. She's tough! Then she emailed me and told me when I originally submitted the book I entitled my email The Morning After. I guess way back I had that title and forgot! She liked it.

P.S. If you aren't part of my Quarterly Newsletter Group, I hope you'll consider it and be eligible for an Amazon Gift Card in February and April. http://www.brendawhiteside.com/contact.html#newsletter

  

Doctors, Splotches and Snow

2012 On the plains in Northern Arizona, two families joined forces and began the trials and tribulations of building a small family farm with nothing in the bank but love.

This Tortuga Thursday should be called Tortuga Thursday Thoughts. Still in winter's throes, it's a little of this and a little of that going on.

More seeds are on order. Last week, we received our "bucket of seeds" but there are other things we plan to grow that weren't included. Lance toiled over the web site but got them ordered.

I had my regular three-month check up (because of past melanoma issues) at the Indian Medical Center in Phoenix with a new dermatologist a few weeks ago. This one didn't look in certain female places either. I thought the last guy was just shy, but this doctor said that the regulations of the center didn't allow it. Sort of seems like going to a nose and throat doctor who can only look at the outside of your nose. He had me make an appointment with the eye clinic and the women's clinic. The doctor who looked at my eyes was mystified why he needed to do so. Very unlikely anything there. My thought was so what - if it ever happens, then just do it. The gynecologist was even more mystified. He didn't say much but shook his head when I told him the dermatologist couldn't remove all of my clothes to check all of my skin. Three doctors later, I'm free and clear.

I received a jury duty summons, but the trial was canceled. I've never gotten to actually serve so hope I do some day. It's possible I could get called for Cottonwood. I'm not hoping for that since the drive would take me about an hour and a half.

I'd like to get my end of the house painted before planting season. Frank and I have the kitchen and one wall in the living room done. I always have a difficult time picking color. Those small jars of samples Home Depot sells are a blessing or a curse, depending on how I look at it. They've saved me from making some awful mistakes in color choices but then again, I seem to take longer making up my mind. I've had three different splotches on the remaining living room walls, two on the bathroom and four in the bedroom. I got sick of my indecisiveness in the bedroom and bought a gallon yesterday of a color I had not splotched on. Not sure I'm happy but I'm not going to waste another $30. The first color I bought I didn't bother testing, and it turned out to be the color of baby poop on the wall. Had to eat that $30.

Speaking of painting, Frank and I painted the baby's room. Excitement is building.

Rusty loves the snow

We had snow yesterday but the sun and heavy wind took care of that today. 

A last financial note since I promised to share it all on this experiment. We've finally put aside the RV dream for now. After crunching numbers, it seems best not to lock into a payment if there's a chance we'd have the RV but no funds to use it. We're going more commercial with the farm this year and who knows what that will bring. Yes, the farm is pretty much Lance's project, but we're partial owners in it and want to see it succeed. By next week I should be able to unveil our first crop adventure into the wholesale market.

And a P.S. on snow - the San Francisco Peaks are calling. From here they look solid white. Even though it's Tortuga Thursday, we're heading out to play in some real deep snow about an hour and a half away. I'll be back in the afternoon so I welcome your comments and will respond then. One great thing about where we live is that we're close to many different types of free entertainment like a drive and play in the snow!

Have You Kissed Your Editor Lately?

MUSE MONDAY

A couple of years ago, I worked as an editor for an e-publisher. What I learned could probably fill a book, if I was inclined to write nonfiction. Not only did I become a better editor as the year wore on, my skills as a writer also improved.

My authors ranged from the experienced to first time published. The blunders of both groups ran the spectrum from point of view problems to back-story dumps.

How much easier it was to see the foibles of other authors than to see my own. But what I came to recognize were my own weaknesses. When you’re removed from a manuscript, you see the pitfalls so much easier. I love my manuscripts like a baby and, like all mothers/fathers, I don't necessarily see the imperfections. The phrase I worked so hard over and is so clever has no history for the editor. Pretty easy to slash and burn. When I realized this, I was able to more easily step back and use the same technique on my own manuscripts.

We’re told to write without fear of our inner editor; to ignore her and lay our story down with abandon. I have a multi-published friend who requires little, if any editing, once she’s completed her manuscript. I’m convinced her inner editor works side-by-side with her. She’s at the point in her career, after having written so many books, she and her inner editor are one and doesn’t disrupt the creative process. Editing other authors has given me some of that ability. Kind of the practice-makes-perfect syndrome.

But, and this is a big but, I will always need an editor. In my opinion, an author will always be too close to her work to see all overused words, illogical plot lines, flat characters, questionable POV issues and unneeded verbiage to name a few. I also have great respect for editors. It’s hard work. And every suggestion from my editor gets a thoughtful consideration from me now.

What I found most amazing about the experience was hearing my voice in other authors. How many times had I disagreed when told to cut paragraphs of back-story? It hurts. We create this wonderful history, and shouldn’t everyone want to read about our well-rounded characters? You really have to know this! Or “but Nora Roberts” switched POV in the middle of a scene – why can’t I? Some edits are hard to make.

What I found most amusing about the experience was a comment my husband made to me one day when I was an editor as I toiled over one of my own manuscripts. My editor had sent back the first round of edits. I cringed at the amount of red. “My gosh, this is going to take me longer to edit than it took me to write it,” I complained out loud. My husband didn’t look up from his paper, but snickered, “Now you know how your authors feel.”

Don't forget to join my Quarterly Newsletter Group for a chance to win some Amazon gift cards!

Join Here 

How Cool Are Hiccups!!

2012 On the plains in Northern Arizona, two families joined forces and began the trials and tribulations of building a small family farm with nothing in the bank but love.

This has been the week of seeds.

The most important little seed growing in my daughter in laws womb is nearly full term. Not exactly farm talk, but I'm so excited that this soon to be event merits mentioning. Until this week, I haven't been able to catch Sadi Belle in movement. Every time I put my hand on Christie's belly, Sadi stills. I'm taking this as a good sign. Gramma could be the calming touch or the charming touch for our newest edition to the clan. Time will tell. But when Sadi had the hiccups this week, I finally felt the life. Pretty exciting. Then yesterday, I went to Christie's doctor appointment as a stand-in for Lance. When the doctor set his stethoscope on Christie, Sadi's heartbeat thumped loud and clear at 160. Beautiful. 

We also got out first batch of seeds for this year's garden. A new local supplier offers seeds by the bucket, and they're actually local heirloom seeds. I hadn't thought about where seeds come from could make a difference. It makes sense that seeds from a particular area are going to be more acclimated for that area. This bucket of seeds was reasonably priced, and even though we won't use some of them, the cost was still attractive. I'm sure we'll plant the broccoli, cabbage, carrots, cucumber, green beans, lettuce, onion, peas, peppers, spinach, tomatoes, squash and a multitude of herbs. There are several varieties on some of these seeds. There are four or five others we will most likely take a pass on. They also included marigold seeds for free which are natural pest control plants. Winter isn't nearly over, but I'm already anticipating watching our new crop spring from the warm earth.

What a rich spring and summer this will be with Sadi and the crop both blooming with growth.

What Comes First - the Story or the Characters?

Muse Monday

It's a question all authors get asked at some time or another. My answer is quick - the characters. My imagination is so character driven that there are times I've really had to search out their story. I might have only a vague idea. For instance, Sleeping with the Lights On started with a fifty year old woman who hadn't found the right man or the right career. I knew Sandra Holiday was upbeat and funny, but why hadn't she found what she needed in life? I gave her a past, and voila! The story began. I started her on her path of discovery but she led the way and got into all kinds of trouble.

1945 friends

Honey On White Bread also started with a character, Claire Flanagan. This young woman was inspired by my mom, so when I created her past, I plucked a few events from my mom's childhood. I wanted to write a story set in the 1940's. Although still character driven, this time I allowed the era to determine my direction. But Claire's sass jumped right off of page one and gave me the reason for the book.

For my novella, The Morning After, I answered a submission request from my publisher. They set the scene (at least one pivotal moment in Amarillo, Texas at the Lonesome Steer Honky Tonk) but the story was the writer's choosing. So...Texas, dancing, drinking and romance. A thirty-something lady came to mind. Abigail Martin woke up with a hangover in Amarillo after a wedding at the Lonesome Steer. And since she needed a sexy cowboy to spice up her dull life - redheaded Bobby Stockwood swept her off her feet. And he gives the meaning to the word character.

The hotel Lacy stays at in Flagstaff

I'm currently writing a series, my Love and Murder series. I tried to start a bit differently this time. My intent was to write three murder mysteries and begin with the storyline. I came up blank. And then Lacy Dahl popped into my head - a woman looking for her past and a new future because her present had been yanked away. Why wouldn't she know her past? Why was it dangerous for her to make that discovery? So, as I did for Sandra Holiday, I created Lacy's past. Only this time, it was my secret. Or I thought it was. Once the story began, it got way more involved than I first thought. 

Because I write romance, there are of course heroes in all of my books. And where they come from is about as mysterious to me as where my heroines come from. All I know is, they're born before the story. I know most of their pasts, how they look, how they dress, how they smell and how they sound long before they divulge their stories. I share that with my characters - discovering the story.