Publishing Announcement: Get Entangled in a new novel!

I've been writing stories nearly all my life, but about eleven years ago I decided to make it my vocation. My kids were grown up enough to feed themselves, turn on the television, and have better things to do than hang out with their mom anyway, so it worked out fairly well. I'm not saying it's been a paying gig or a great career choice, just a love of story that turned into lots of hours of work and very little compensation. Okay, sometimes my family members or friends would read something I wrote and tell me how great it was, but it just wasn't the same as seeing it in print. In a real book.

So, after many rejection letters of "we aren't taking on any new clients at this time," from agents--enough that I could definitely wall paper my office with them--I decided to go "Indie." No, it's not a strange quirk I have of dressing up like Indiana Jones and running through the streets with my whip. Although, that might be fun. Rather, it is publishing in ebook formats. I won't see my book in print on paper yet, but in E Ink. It is downloadable on computers, some phones (such as the Blackberry or iphone), or any ebook reader. In a few weeks it will be sold at B&N, Amazon, Kobo, Sony, Apple, and Diesel ebook stores as well. Right now you can download it from the publisher at Smashwords.

I decided to try out this exciting new venture with my contemporary suspense novel, Entangled.

Here is a very short synopsis: When Minneapolis attorney Billie Fredrickson learns her uncle has left her the winery she hasn’t seen since she was eight years old, it reawakens memories of a childhood mystery that has lain dormant for twenty years.  But digging up her past also lays bare the skeletons of others, including her mother’s.  Can she live with the consequences of full disclosure, or will she run home, where everyone is Minnesota nice?

Now I'm sure you want to know more. So, click here and download a free sample or purchase the entire book in seconds. It's that easy. You don't even have to leave the comfort of your home or get out of your pajamas. Isn't technology fun?

You can also check out my author page at Smashwords here. For a look at some of my short stories and other random information about me, visit my webpage.

For those of you intrigued by the awesome cover, all the credit goes to my graphic design artist, Katie. (Who also happens to be my daughter:) 

Signs of the Times

Signs tell us where we are, how fast to go, where we can find the best ribs in the world, how to use a hand dryer in a restroom, or when the end of the world will take place. 

Signs are everywhere and every size. Roadside billboards, grocery store window ads, mini-van bumper stickers, and opinionated t-shirts. We are inundated with information all the time. Much of it is useful--such as which direction to take on the freeway--although some people seem to ignore good advice.

Other signs are oddly disconcerting--like the truck I saw the other day as we were driving toward Austin. "Ask the driver about today's specials" it said. Like we were going to speed up, roll down our window and yell out questions about the price of Ribeye while driving 75miles an hour. We did get a little freaked out when he noticed us close behind him and slowed down to pull into the lane beside us. Obviously prepared to answer those questions. 

Sometimes signs have only a symbol or picture, rather than words. Like the golden arches. Everyone knows there is a McDonalds coming up. But since crazy, irrational, city committee members everywhere have enforced new signage height rules--because the arches are no longer politically correct icons of proper food choices--it is getting harder and harder to see our favorite fast-food joint from the highway. We could pass it right by and have to wait another thirty minutes to eat and use the restroom.

Animal Crossing signs usually have no words. Deer can't read, you know. That's why there's just a picture. I noticed the elk crossing signs actually say, Elk Crossing. Apparently they've taken an English immersion course.

This crossing sign also speaks for itself

Some signs are written by the simple-minded.

This sign makes me wonder why. Don't kids have it hard enough these days with peer pressure and bullying? Do they really need it broadcast throughout the entire neighborhood that they're slow?

                                      Some signs have a clear message. Take heed. 

Spam--the other pink meat

Our home is once again an empty nest, leaving me to wonder how one extra person could make so many more loads of dirty laundry. It's a mystery. But our daughter has gone back to finish off her college degree and now that I don't have to be down in the basement folding clothes for hours on end, I can get busy and write. A masterpiece of fiction doesn't write itself!

This summer has flown by and not just because I bought a B&N Nook and have been reading like there's no tomorrow. I also supply vegetables and raspberries to all my friends and neighbors. They don't grow on trees like money, you know. I had to actually plant and water and pick, by the sweat of my brow and the rest of me. It's been a very hot and humid summer!

Last week my daughter and I drove to Austin, MN for a short road trip. Our destination: The Spam Museum. Yes--we have always wanted to see the birthplace of Spam. Doesn't everyone?

The Spam Museum is attached to the Hormel plant where this lovely, greasy, non-textured meat is produced. An elderly man greeted us in the entrance and showed us the "wall of spam" where almost 3500 cans line an entire wall from top to bottom. It was definitely a sight to behold. Fact: At one can per day, this wall could feed you for 10 years. Is that awesome information or what?

He gave us some other facts about Spam that I instantly let slip from my mind, but he was very helpful and pointed the way to a little theatre where we watched a short, entertaining, commercial-packed trailer on the history of Spam. Then we exited to tour the museum and behold the glorified meat for ourselves.

While my husband and I were in Hawaii a while back, we heard that many in the islands enjoy a hearty breakfast of fried Spam and rice. We were slightly appalled at the notion of eating Spam for breakfast, or rice for that matter, but being the live and let live kind of people that we are, we just thought they must be crazy. Why would anyone choose to eat Spam unless they had nothing else? Obviously, we were wrong.

At the Spam museum my daughter and I found that people in many countries, and even some American states have a strange addiction to the canned meat. A cross between ham and who knows what, this meat loaf has been used in many imaginative recipe creations: Spam Sushi, Spam casserole, Spam rolls, Spam & Pasta, etc.

We even got to sample a chunk of Spam on a toothpick. The taste gave me an instant flashback to childhood when Mom would fry Spam as a last resort quick and cheap meal. Kate, on the other hand, had no memory of the succulent taste of Spam, since I never bought it. Twenty-two years without Spam and she survived. Amazing!

If you have a free afternoon with nothing to do, and wish for a bit of nostalgia, visit the Spam museum. It's actually pretty fun. We enjoyed the trip and even bought a can of Spam. I'm not sure what I'll do with it, but I have it in my cupboard, just in case.

Airline Perks for Pushy People

Ever since kindergarten, there have been those individuals who just have to be first in line. You remember the kids that pushed in front of you when the teacher wasn't looking, or their friends let them cut in line in front of you with the silly excuse of "saving a place." Like that's fair. Those were the kids you wanted to smack, but didn't, cause of course your mother taught you manners. Apparently, they didn't have mothers.

Those line-cutters are the same individuals--now grown up but still without manners--that American Airlines is counting on today. The airline has come up with another totally unnecessary fee for a totally worthless perk and want line-cutters the world over to pay for it. They call it, Express Seats. I say, good for them! It's about time line-cutters had to pay.

Express Seats guarantees pushy people get to board the plane in the first bunch of cheap seat people and sit in the front row of the cheap seats for only an extra twenty bucks. Of course, last week they could sit in the front row of the cheap seats without an extra fee of twenty bucks. But they won't think of it that way. They'll think of it as being first--cutting in line ahead of all the other people in the cheap seats. Getting to sit in those luxuriously, comfy cubbyholes for an extra hour or so as everyone else slowly boards, bumps them as they pass in the aisle, whacks their heads with overhead luggage, and stares at them with open jealousy will be worth the cost. At least to a serial line-cutter. Okay, maybe the first class people will still get to get off before them. And the business class people. And the people with small children. But...they're probably next.

Express Seats will endear American Airlines to their passengers nearly as much as when they began charging to bring luggage. Who needs luggage on a vacation anyway? There's a Walmart in every town in America. Pick up a package of Fruit of the Looms and a toothbrush when you get to your destination, and you're all set. The luggage fee has just made everyone realize what's truly necessary and what is not. I'm actually looking forward to the day they start charging extra to bring children under eighteen. Flights will be so much quieter.

He's Older Than Me!!

With news that President Obama turned 49 on August 4th, I suddenly knew what it felt like to be old. I never really thought of Presidents as being young and hip, or even agile enough to ride a bike. They're supposed to be old, and wise, and decrepit, to sit around in the Oval Office and decide important things that we obviously can't decide for ourselves. Like which china dishes would look best at the next White House Gala or which American-hating country to give a big ol' pile of money to. Although when I was young and naive I didn't realize those were the kind of things they actually had to decide. But then I began living in the body of a fortyish person. I don't know whose body this is, cause I certainly don't feel as old as the mirror reflects.

There are certain people in my life that should never be younger than me. They hold positions of authority, knowledge, or skill that I have always believed is only obtained through wisdom that comes with age. Age older than me.

The President of the United States should never be younger than me! President Obama is really pushing it. He barely made the cut by a month and three days. If he were any younger I would have to move to Canada. Which I've been thinking about anyway--for their wonderful healthcare and abundant wildlife.

My Gynecologist should never be younger than me! I don't care what anyone says, if a doctor walks in wearing baggy-butt jeans and a Spongebob Square Pants t-shirt under his white lab coat, I can't trust him. He might work out as a Pediatrician, but if his patients are over ten years old he should think about going back to school until he can grow facial hair and his voice stops cracking.

My Father should never be younger than me! This is just a "heads up" to Mom in case she is thinking about trading the old one in.

My Pastor should never be younger than me! Okay, I've struggled with this for many years now. Our pastor is slightly younger than me, but since he now has a lot of grey hair and I don't, I'm slowly coming to terms with it.

The models on television, advertising makeup and skin lotions to defy age, should never be younger than me! I hate it when some chick that looks like she just graduated from high school is telling me how young and vibrant a new skin product makes her look. What a crock! Who needs age defying skin products when they aren't even two decades old?

Some people say that age is just a number. That we are only as old as we feel. Actually it's an ever increasing number and the aches and pains we feel seem to increase along with the number. But I know what they mean. As long as they aren't younger than me, I might even think there is wisdom in their rhetoric. I'll let you know how old I feel after I finish the six mile Mud Run for MS next month. If I'm still able to write.

Here is the link if you would like to donate to MS and support my run: http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR/General/MNMGeneralEvents?px=8619648&pg=personal&fr_id=14711

You Know it's Hot When __

This week has turned out to be quite miserable, temperature-wise. Unless you're native to the Rain Forest. Then you might feel right at home. Of course, with the Dakota County Fair starting up, I knew the weather would rise to the occasion. You can't truly have the ultimate fair experience without eating deep fried cheese while standing in the blazing sun, losing half your body weight in perspiration.

Weathercasters sometimes tell us how we can know that the heat index is too high to be out playing or exercising. But their reasons are so technical. They don't seem to be able to bring it down to the common man. So I decided to give you a list of ways you can know that it's "dangerously" hot outside.

1. You know it's hot outside when squirrels refuse to scamper through the trees, but stay inside and play poker.

2. You know it's hot outside when you take the dogs for a walk and are seriously envious when they stop to drink from water runoff in the street gutter.

3. You know it's hot outside when Orchids and African Violets spontaneously bloom in your backyard.

4. You know it's hot outside when the neighbor is frying eggs and bacon on the hood of his pickup cause his grill is broken.

5. You know it's hot outside when M&Ms melt in your hand before they can make it to your mouth.

6. You know it's hot outside when entering your home, set at a comfortable 70 degrees, feels like walking into Antarctica.

7. You know it's hot outside when you step out to pick up the newspaper and have to take a shower before you can run on the treadmill.

8. You know it's hot outside when Global Warming begins to make sense.

So be safe out there and don't overdo things in this weather. You may end up embarrassing yourself by lapping from a mud puddle.

What are some ways you know it's hot outside?