Showing posts with label Earl Staggs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Earl Staggs. Show all posts

Saturday, January 4, 2020

Earl Staggs. Rest in peace, my friend


Last night I read some news on Facebook that rocked me.  

My friend Earl Staggs was gone.

My last note from Earl was reminding me to send him an autographed copy of the book he recently edited for me.  And the note was signed, as was every note he ever sent me, with "Heapsa Hugs."

Earl spent two years on an almost daily basis helping me write "Whimsey."  He was the best writing class anyone could ever hope to take.

He edited every short story, every essay I ever submitted and was constantly telling me I should do more.  

As many of you may have figured out by now, I do dearly love Mr. Staggs.

I met Earl several years ago at DorothyL and we became fast friends. We both grew up in Maryland - Earl in Baltimore, and me in a small town on the Eastern Shore of Maryland named Cambridge, which is the home of my heart. 


While Earl and I were getting to know one another, sharing Maryland stories we discovered a mutual love of Ocean City.

Ocean City, MD is where Marylanders go, and have gone for years and years. It's  still, in some ways, an old fashioned beach town, old boardwalk included, with all the requisite boardwalk type shops, and carnival type games and rides. And while we talked about the things no longer there, we were also both pretty happy with the fact that there's a lot about that boardwalk that is exactly the same now as it was when I was a little girl. There are also beautiful white sandy beaches, and great restaurants. I love Ocean City.

Years back, Donald and I borrowed a girl friend's condominium in Ocean City.  This little condo of hers was perfectly situated just at the very end of the boardwalk, and a block back from the ocean with nothing but sand between it and us. We could sit on our balcony and watch the dolphins play. We could watch the surfers. And we could witness gorgeous sunsets.  


This condo is also in the exact same spot that Earl Staggs' protagonist, Adam Kingston, lives in his MEMORY OF A MURDER, a book I love.


































Earl can also take credit for being one of the people most accountable for me being here at Meanderings and Muses, blogging away about anything and everything. He and I taking those walks down Maryland Memory Lane nudged something in me. The love I have for Cambridge and the memories I have of growing up there just started bubbling up; begging to be remembered. And shared.

I will miss Earl Staggs and those conversations.

I will miss his wisdom, and his wit.

I will miss sending him the occasional box of peanut butter fudge from Dolle's on The Boardwalk.   

Earl graciously participated in my Meanderings and Muses author spotlights from 2009 through 2014.  He was always the first to respond when I sent out the annual invitation.  

You can read his pieces here - 

http://www.meanderingsandmuses.com/2009/01/for-whom-bus-rolls-by-earl-staggs.html


http://www.meanderingsandmuses.com/2010/03/spring-is-coming-but-by-earl-staggs.html

http://www.meanderingsandmuses.com/2011/03/surrounded-by-beautiful-women-by-earl.html

http://www.meanderingsandmuses.com/2012/04/elmore-leonards-eleventh-rule-by-earl.html


http://www.meanderingsandmuses.com/2013/04/evolution-of-novl-by-earl-staggs.html


http://www.meanderingsandmuses.com/2014/04/earl-staggs-writes-romance.html




Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Editing my mom's work



"Mama.  This story needs lots of work.  Better get it to Earl pretty quick."







Sunday, April 13, 2014

Earl Staggs Writes . . . Romance?!



Me?  Write Romance?  Maybe.

I write Mystery and Thriller stories, not Romance, but there’s no law saying the kind of stories I write can’t include elements of romance. Would I be capable of blending a love story into a Mystery/Thriller novel?  Well, I was put to the test in my last novel, JUSTIFIED ACTION. 

The novel features Tall Chambers, a man who spent twenty years in Army Special Forces.  After leaving the Army. he is invited by General Cyrus Brock to join a secretive agency which tracks terrorists and puts them out of business before innocent people are killed. During his meeting with the General, Tall sees a photograph of the old man’s daughter, Victoria.  Tall is quite taken by the beautiful young woman in the picture and can’t take his eyes off her.  When he asks his best friend Stephen about her, he is told she is off limits to him.  She is way out of his league.  Even so, he can’t get her out of his mind.

He doesn’t get a chance to see her in person until she is taken hostage by a gang of bad guys and he is called upon to rescue her.  He does, but there’s no opportunity to talk to her.  Once the ordeal is over, they go their separate ways.  Tall resigns himself to the fact that he will  never see her again.

But, as they say, love will find a way.  Here’s what happens next.

* * *
A week later, Tall switched off his TV when his doorbell chimed. When he looked through the peephole, he’d never been so surprised in his life. His hand shook when he opened the door.

Victoria stood there in a yellow dress, looking even more beautiful than he remembered.

With a teasing twinkle in her eyes and a playful grin on her lips, she says. “I came by to thank you for rescuing me.” She brought her hand around from behind her back and extended a bottle toward him. “I thought we might have a glass of wine and then go out to dinner.”

Tall stood in the doorway staring at the woman he fell in love with when he saw her picture on a shelf in her father’s house. He knew he should say something and opened his mouth.

“Uh. . .,” came out.

She grinned and cocked her head to one side. “May I come in?”

“Uh. . .,” he repeated.

She brushed by him and he saw she was holding back a giggle.

“Where do you keep your glasses?” she asked. If we don’t open this bottle of wine soon, it may spoil.”

He followed her into his dining room area where she stopped, turned back to him, and held out the wine. “Or we could drink it right out of the bottle. I don’t mind if you don’t.”

Tall knew he was blushing a bright red. He lowered his head and chuckled. “I’m sorry. I was. . .uh. . . not expecting company.”

She pursed her lips. “Now don’t tell me this is the first time a crazy woman has shown up at your door carrying a bottle of wine.”

Tall laughed. She was not only the most beautiful human being he’d ever seen in his life, but she had a sense of humor, too. Damn.

He took the bottle from her hand and nodded over her shoulder. “Glasses are in the cabinet behind you, second shelf. I’ll open this.”

He went into his kitchen remembering what Stephen said when he asked about her.

Don’t even think about it. You wouldn’t just be shooting yourself in the foot, you’d be shooting your balls off.

Too late. Shots fired.

After a glass of wine, they went to a nearby restaurant for dinner. Over their meal, they discussed books. They both liked John Grisham. When they moved on to movies, they both were big fans of Clint Eastwood. Her favorite of his films was Bridges of Madison County while his was Dirty Harry. By the time they’d finished eating, Tall felt he’d known her all his life.

When they were ready to leave the restaurant, he suggested they take the long way back to his apartment where her car was parked. She said it would be a good idea to walk off some of the huge dinner she’d had. His idea was to keep her with him as long as possible.

It was twenty past nine when they stepped outside the restaurant. A full moon in a clear sky added a silver tint to the street and sidewalks. A gentle breeze had cleared the air of exhaust fumes from the day’s traffic along the busy street. The few cars passing by now seemed to be moving in slow motion so as not to disturb the quiet stillness of the evening. A perfect evening, Tall thought. A perfect evening for a perfect date with a perfect girl. A date! How long had it been since he’d been on an actual date? Years. It saddened him to think it would be over soon. He slowed his pace as if that would stretch it out longer.

When they reached the first corner, he reached down for her hand and guided her across the street. He thought her small delicate hand folded neatly in his. A perfect fit.

Once across the street, they entered a park filled with medium height trees and winding walkways lined with rose and azalea bushes. The path brought them out of the park directly across from Tall’s apartment building. Traffic was light and after they negotiated their way across the street, they sat quietly on the steps for a few minutes.

“So do you like being a lawyer?” Tall asked. During dinner, he’d learned she worked for a large legal firm specializing in international law and finance.

She shrugged. “Mostly, I do research and analysis for the senior partners. It’s not very exciting, but my dad says it’s a good place to begin.”

They were sitting side by side, so close Tall felt her body stiffen the slightest bit.

“Begin what?” he asked.

“There are several opportunities it could lead to.”

Even her voice had changed. She spoke in a clipped monotone, as if repeating something she’d heard. It sounded almost scripted.

“My dad says the experience I get with this firm could lead to something in London, Madrid, maybe even Geneva. Or, he thinks it could lead to a position with an embassy or a political appointment someday.”

He hesitated, then asked, “Is that what you want?”

“What do you mean?” She stared at the park across the street.

“I mean, you told me what your dad said and what he thinks. I was just wondering if politics is something you want for yourself.”

She cleared her throat. “Of course. Who wouldn’t? You have a problem with women in politics, big boy? Don’t you think it’s about time we had a woman in the White House?”

In a serious tone, Tall said, “As I understand it, there were a lot of women in the White House during the Kennedy years. They were slipped in and out through a side door.”

She gave him a poke in the ribs. “That’s not what I meant. Men!”

“Well, when you get elected to the White House, I want a key to that side door.”

She grinned. “We’ll have to see about that.” She stood up and stretched. “I really need to be going, I guess. Long day tomorrow.”

“Me, too,” he lied. He had nothing scheduled for the next day and was sorry she was leaving. He pushed himself to his feet and looked around. “Where’s your car?”

He held her car door open while she settled herself behind the wheel. “I really enjoyed this,” he said. “Maybe we can do it again some time.”

“I’d like that.”

“Good. I’ll call you. Can I get your number?”

She looked up at him with a sly grin. “You already have it.”

“I do? Uh. . .where? How?”

“In your jacket pocket. I slipped my card in there when we were sitting on the steps back there. Goodnight, Tall.”

“Uh. . . .” He fished in his pockets as she drove away, pulled out her card and grinned as he looked at it. Damn. She wouldn’t have given him her card if she weren’t interested in seeing him again. He turned toward his apartment building and thought about what her father would say if he knew they were spending time together. By the time he reached the door, he decided he didn’t care.

He called her two days later. They went to dinner and a movie. Clint Eastwood’s “Gran Torino.” She cried at the end. He fought not to. The following evening, Wednesday, they went to a play. When he dropped her off at her apartment, she invited him to a home-cooked dinner at her apartment on Friday and suggested he bring a toothbrush. He did, along with a change of clothes, and stayed until Monday morning.

* * *
            And there you have it.  My attempt to incorporate Romance into a Mystery/Thriller story.   As I said, I don’t write Romance.  There’s no huggy-kissy business, but I hope there was enough interactive attraction between them to make it believable that they will eventually marry.  Which they do.
   
         What do you think?  Should I give up any thoughts of writing anything involving Romance and stick to pure Mystery and Thriller stories?


Bio:  Earl Staggs earned a long list of Five Star reviews for his novels MEMORY OF A MURDER and JUSTIFIED ACTION and has twice received a Derringer Award for Best Short Story of the Year.  He served as Managing Editor of Futures Mystery Magazine, as President of the Short Mystery Fiction Society and is a frequent speaker at conferences and seminars.  
Email: earlstaggs@sbcglobal.net 
Website: http://earlwstaggs.wordpress.com




Saturday, April 13, 2013

Evolution of a Novel by Earl Staggs

 

Earl Staggs earned a long list of Five Star reviews for his novel MEMORY OF A MURDER and has twice received a Derringer Award for Best Short Story of the Year. He served as Managing Editor of Futures Mystery Magazine, as President of the Short Mystery Fiction Society, is a contributing blog member of Murderous Musings and Make Mine Mystery and a frequent speaker at conferences and seminars. Email: earlstaggs@sbcglobal.net Website: http://earlwstaggs.wordpress.com





 
EVOLUTION OF A NOVEL
by Earl Staggs

 
Like most writers who’ve been around the block a time or two, I can produce a new book from start to finish in several months, a year at the most. I’d like to tell you a story, however, about a book that took much longer to write. How long? Ten years. That’s right. Ten years.

I didn’t work on it full time for that long. It took me that long to get it right

The idea for the book came to me not long after the horrendous incident we now refer to as 9-11. Terrorists killed three thousand innocent, unsuspecting people that day and left a scar across the world that will never heal. Like most people in the world, particularly Americans, I was deeply affected. I wanted to rush out and kill terrorists. I couldn’t do that for real, of course, but it occurred to me I could do it in a book. That’s how it started.

I came up with a fictitious secret agency which tracks terrorist groups. If the agency determines the group has definite plans to kill innocent people, it steps in and stops them with extreme prejudice. That usually means the terrorists are killed.

I gave the book what I thought was an appropriate title. JUSTIFIED ACTION.

I needed a central character and came up with the name Tall Chambers.

After twenty years in the Army, most of it in Special Services, Tall joined the agency.

While I admit, in the wake of 9-11, I enjoyed writing about saving innocent lives by taking out those who would kill, I soon realized an entire novel of that would not be interesting for long. I put the book aside and worked on other projects.

Tall Chambers never really left my mind, however. He took shape over a period of time until I knew him as a friend, someone I liked. I formed ideas of what kind of man he would be, what were his goals and ambitions, and what did he want for his life.

While Tall remained a fixture in my mind, I occasionally went back to the book. This time, the business of tracking and dealing with terrorists became only a background on which Tall’s personal life played out. I liked the story much better this way, but still didn’t stick with it full time. I’d put it on a back burner from time to time and write other things. Eventually, his story, a personal one played out on the stage of international terrorist activity, became more clear and fully developed.

And Tall definitely had a personal life. He met the ideal woman, fell in love, and married. He’s also a man of action and, since I love writing action scenes, there are plenty of them in the book.

But his life did not become a happily ever after story. Everything changed when a murder turned his life completely around. After that, Tall has only one goal in mind: find the killer and set things right. In the process of doing that, he comes to a hard-earned decision about the path his life will travel from that point on.

Eventually -- and the process actually did take ten years -- I finished the novel, completely satisfied with how it all came together. I’m as proud of it as anything I’ve ever written.

I recently announced the debut of JUSTIFIED ACTION, a Mystery/Thriller novel, in both print and ebook form. But then came that nail-biting, can’t-sleep, why-did-I-ever-become-a-writer, what-made-me-think-that-book-was-good-enough-to-publish, suppose-everyone-hates-it phase. That’s the period when you don’t breathe, the hands of the clock don’t move, the sun never rises or sets but just hangs over you, and you wait for reviews.

Happily, the reviews were as good as they could be.. All Five Stars.

Feedback included comments such as:

“Couldn’t put it down.”

Read this book. You'll be glad you did.”

“. . .a strong emotional impact and a satisfying ending.”

 Action and suspense without all the gore.” 

“When I got to the last page, I wished for more.”

Can’t ask for better than that. Two major hurdles are now in the rear view mirror – getting it published and receiving great reviews. It feels good, especially when I think about how long it took to write this book.

I’m also excited about the cover. I wanted a particular mood and attitude on the cover. I wanted it to speak in a voice filled with suspense and tension and say, “Get ready. Here comes trouble.” It took a while, and I had help from a good friend, but the perfect cover eventually came around. The cover is. . . . But, wait. Instead of talking about it, let me show it to you. Here it is.






Cover by Carole Ryan




You’re invited to read Chapter One of JUSTIFIED ACTION and meet Tall Chambers. I hope you like him as much as I do. You’ll find it at http://earlwstaggs.wordpress.com

And that’s the story of a book that took me ten years to write. Thank you, dear Kaye, for letting me tell it here.

 

 

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Why I've Decided to Self-Publish





For those of you who have asked about my decision to publish my novel myself rather than attempting to go the traditional route.  This is why I think self-publishing is for ME - not for everyone, of course, but for me.

I'm in the midst of making a few final revisions which I should have done by the end of this week or next. After a LOT of soul searching and pondering I've decided to forego the agent querying thing and go for self-publishing.

Had it not been for Celia Miles, Judy Greber and Earl Staggs I doubt I ever would have even thought about writing a novel - and I thank them for having the faith in me that I didn't have.  They're my angels walking the earth disguised as just plain ol' regular human beings.  and I love 'em to bits.

 I learned a lot about myself during the novel writing. I loved writing it. Loved it! I hate rewriting and revisions. I know a lot of people love it. Not me. And the more I do it, the more I tend to not want to do it, which has shown me in bright brilliant lights that I am not one of those "I HAVE to write every single day!" writers.

You all know how I feel about writers - they're my rock stars.  I admire and respect them greatly.  I'm not one of them.  I'm just not and I know it.   I don't possess the talent or the pure need and stamina to write as well as my friends Louise Penny, Margaret Maron, Judy Greber, Hank Phillippi Ryan, Deborah Crombie and so many others. 

That's not meant as false modesty - I do think I'm a fairly decent writer.

My decision has nothing to do with what others do or want to do, and it certainly doesn't reflect how I feel about traditional publishing.  These are, to me, all separate issues.

I have no desire to be a career writer. And if I were, my choice would not be fiction - as much as I dearly love it.  And you all know how very much I love a good novel.

I, myself, am at my happiest writing memoir pieces for my blog.  And the pieces I wrote which were accepted for two anthologies edited by Celia Miles and Nan Dillingham which I remain immensely proud of. That seems to be the type of work that fills my heart and soothes my soul.

What I decided during the holidays while we were busy driving here and there for Christmas festivites and a lovely wedding in Meridian is that truthfully, even if I were one of the lucky ones to find a good agent who was able to sell my work, I don't want to wait two or three years to 'see' my novel. I want to see it now. I feel like I've worked hard and now I want to see the end result out there. 

The feeling isn't based on impatience - I've never had any illusions about making a big splash and making a lot of money - I just wanted to write a novel. Now I'm done and honestly - just want to move on. I don't want to write a book every year, I don't want to have to travel around doing promotion, and I don't want to lose control of my own writing - the writing I've done or the writing I might still do. I just want to do it for "me." Just for me. 

I've written the novel I wanted to write. It's not everyone's cup of tea and that's okay. It has magic and best girlfriends. There's pretty clothes and great food. There's laughter and love. Art and a perfect gallery on a lovely little idyllic island in the Lowcountry. There's a ghost or two and a pixie named Earlene who happens to be partial to Christian Louboutins.  It's impossible to put a tag on - kinda like the most interesting people I know who refuse to be placed in a single category. Eccentric and flawed. and fun.

The next novel, when and if it happens, may be a sequel or it may be something a bit more serious concerning the Freedom Riders who came to my hometown of Cambridge, Maryland in 1962 when I was a teenager. That was a time that helped mold me to be who I am today. My 64 year old self who now just wants (as I've said so many times) to spread my wings and try a whole world of new things.

I want to continue practicing and improving my photography, I have bags of needlepoint and knitting which I've missed working on the past couple years while I've been writing "Whimsey" - there's just a whole wealth of things I want to do. Pottery. I really want to try my hand (again) at pottery. Maybe paint a little.

There are still lots of experiences I want to have along my road to Ithaca (and my thanks to my friend Hank Phillippi Ryan for introducing me to this perfect poem).

Ithaka

When you set out for Ithaka
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you.

Ask that your way be long.
At many a Summer dawn to enter
with what gratitude, what joy -
ports seen for the first time;
to stop at Phoenician trading centres,
and to buy good merchandise,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensuous perfumes of every kind,
sensuous perfumes as lavishly as you can;
to visit many Egyptian cities,
to gather stores of knowledge from the learned.

Have Ithaka always in your mind.
Your arrival there is what you are destined for.
But don't in the least hurry the journey.
Better it last for years,
so that when you reach the island you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to give you wealth.
Ithaka gave you a splendid journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She hasn't anything else to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka hasn't deceived you.
So wise you have become, of such experience,
that already you'll have understood what these Ithakas mean.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Judith Greber aka Gillian Roberts turns the tables on Kaye Barley


When I happily agreed to write a November 4th guest blog for Kaye, I had no idea that Gillian Roberts would be nowhere in sight, the way alter-egos and figments often are, and Judy Greber would be: boarding with a hitherto unknown 85 year old woman in Florida, three thousand miles from home, working (volunteering) a minimum of 12 hours a day, seven days a week for the past ten weeks and singularly obsessed with Barack Obama’s re-election.

November 4th means only: two more days to get out the vote. No time for either meandering or musing.

        Instead, I happily turn the tables and spotlight onto our hostess, and here is(almost) everything you (or at least I) ever wanted to know about Kaye!  Enjoy—and don’t forget to vote!

        --Judy Greber, aka Gillian Roberts
 

        

         

 

What prompted you to begin a blog?  When did it start? My memory is pathetic!

 

Pathetic memory?  Oh, gee – let’s don’t even talk about it.  I had to go to Meanderings and Muses and look up these dates – even the year had escaped me.

 

What prompted me to begin Meanderings and Muses was first being invited by The Stiletto Gang to do a guest blog about how I had recently quit smoking.  This was in September, 2008 (I had quit smoking in May).  

 

The following October, JT Ellison invited me to do a guest blog at Murderati about the “Internet Water Cooler.” 

 

I took to writing these types of pieces like a duck to water.  It was fun! 

 

Next thing that was getting ready to happen was that I was going to Bouchercon in Baltimore and it was my first mystery con.  I knew I’d want to write about it – and I knew I’d be taking lots of pictures.  What better place to share my B’Con experiences than at my very own blog.  (This after having been pretty outspoken about not really understanding the whole blog thing for a period of time.  One example of Kaye Barley eating her words).

 

So, I started Meanderings and Muses almost as soon as I got home from Baltimore in October 2008.  It turned out to be a very extensive piece, and honestly – no other format would have been available or appropriate.

 

Where else could I have written this sort of piece with all those pictures to go with the story?  I decided right then blogging rocked.  

 

There was one small problem.  I had NO idea what I was doing technically.  Blogger made it very easy – up to a point.  Then it all became complete gibberish to me, but, as in most things, with time came knowledge.  In the meantime, flying by the seat of my pants does usually get me where I’m going.

 

What was the original ‘shape’ you envisioned? Did you have an overall plan for Meanderings and Muses or did you think you’d let it grow organically—or what?

 

Like practically every other thing in my life, there was no plan.  Envisioning isn’t something I’m good at, apparently.  With very mixed results, I’ve always been a, “I think I’ll give that a try,” sort of person.  That’s not to say it’s something I recommend.

 

In the case of M&M, I now had a blog, and I had now written about my first Bouchercon.  Which was magical, by the way – and where I met you.

 

So, now what?  What do I talk about?  Will anyone read it – does anyone care what I have to say?  Do I have any ideas or topics in mind that might interest and engage others?  All the same niggles I had about blogs in the first place now reared their ugly heads and stared me down.

 

So, I just started writing.  Anything that crossed my mind might find its way to Meanderings and Muses, and after a while, it didn’t really matter if anyone read it or not simply because I was enjoying the process.  Blogging seemed to have been invented with me, and people like me, in mind.

 

I wrote about many subjects I’m still writing about today because they have particular meaning to me, ie, how so many people confuse being an introvert with being shy, the importance of girlfriends and connections, and being a small town girl.  I wrote about President Obama’s inauguration and about Aretha’s hat (which I thought was wonderful!).   And books, of course.  And authors.  And I did some give-aways.  And I did a “Best of 2008 Books and Authors List.”   The “Best of List” is one I have continued each year and can’t imagine not doing. 

 

And somewhere along the line I had the bright idea of inviting guests.  That’s when Meanderings and Muses hit its stride and, I think, found its own unique spot in the world of blogging and in the mystery community.

 

What’s the best thing about writing/managing the blog?

 

The best thing is the guests.  Wow.  I was so blissfully ignorant.  Would I, today, ask some of the writers I invited back then to commit to doing a guest blog?  Pfft.  No. 

 

As it happens, I just did it. 

 

And, out of kindness, or just because they were taken completely by surprise, who knows, but every single person I invited (except two) said yes.  I now have some of the best known names in the mystery world as annual guests – most of whom have been with me since the beginning.  Some of these people were already friends, some of them have become friends because of M&M.  Each has helped mold M&M into what it is today and I’ll be forever grateful. 

 

I’m proud beyond words of the guest list I have every year.  And not just the well-known and mid-list authors.  It’s been a lot of fun for me to discover new writers – and even more fun to introduce them to others.

 

And then there's one of my favorite aspects of M&M -  the writers who haven’t been published yet. They’re a very big part of the Meanderings and Muses community.  I expect to see more than one or two of them in print some day.

 

I sometimes have to nudge the readers who participate as guests to write a little something each year.  They have important things to say, but some of them worry about how to say it.  As it turns out, they’ve written a lot of the pieces that receive the most hits. 

 

I love Meanderings and Muses.  It’s a big part of my life and of my heart.

 

What’s the worst?

 

At first, and up until this year, the worst thing was doing it over dial-up.  No one would believe how many  pieces I thought I was finished only to have them hang up and then disappear. 

 

This was sometimes a major problem when guests would send their pieces later than I had requested – and/or used a lot of fancy formatting I’d have to strip out before posting.

 

There’s been a lot of midnight oil burned doing guest spots.

 

Any surprises along the way?

 

The surprises have been few, really, but some rather astounding at times.  Some of the posts, on my part, get a little personal – to be expected because it’s my blog.  I have occasionally been surprised by the personal and quite poignant pieces by the guests.  There are a few that have brought tears.  Some because of their beauty – some because they have broken our hearts.  I’m touched that people have chosen Meanderings and Muses to share some of these stories.  

 

Surprises on a more personal level include two pieces starting their lives as blog posts and growing into pieces juried and accepted in two separate anthologies.   I am over the moon proud of both those anthologies and being a part of the huge talent involved.

 

To me, your exuberant personality is the essence  of this blog, but how much of yourself do you feel you actually share—or think you should share—with your readers? Is there a “Kaye Barley, blogger” vs. Kaye Barley wife, writer, retiree, dog-lover, beach-lover…etc., etc.

 

I am pretty much a “what you see, is what you get” person.  And I’m very open about a lot of things.  I have an opinion on just about everything and I’m going to share it.  What better place than at my own blog?  There’s no one out there who has read Meanderings and Muses who has a doubt in their mind about which political party I favor, or how much I detest mean people.  Bullies, I’m sure, have their own circle of hell awaiting them and that makes me happy.

 

I’m not one of those people who uses the internet to be any different than I am in person.  If someone has stepped on my toes, I’m going to say so – either face to face or in writing.  But rest assured – where or how I tell you how I feel is never going to change the fact that I am going to tell you how I feel.  I’m not scared of much, and speaking my mind has never frightened me.

 

This sometimes leads people to believe I’m going to share my whole life.  But, no – I’m not.  Not even close. 

 

And I try to be very careful that what I do share is actually mine to share.  Not my Donald’s, not my mother’s, not close friends’.  Their stories are not mine just because I happen to know them.  I have to remember that and walk a fine line.

 


Some questions for Kaye Barley, reader extraordinaire and in addition, writer of long fiction: First, now that you’ve written a novel (hooray!) do you read other people’s work differently or with different expectations?

 

(Heeee!  Thank you for that “hooray!”  Can you believe it??) 

 

I do think I start a new book by reading differently.  I find myself looking at things, studying them and learning from them  – but then the longer I read a particular book – if it’s one I’m enjoying - that falls away and I’m then just reading as I always did, savoring the beauty and cadence of the words, the phrases that touch me and the story.   I find myself falling in love with the characters and the setting.  And I’m glad.  I don’t want to find myself critiquing and deconstructing everything I read.  I want to read purely for enjoyment and escape and my love of words and story.  I hope I’ll always be able to do that.

 

What prompted your novel?

 

Good question!

 

Actually – you had a good bit to do with it.  You and Earl Staggs – who both told me early on that you thought I had a distinct voice that could work well for me if I ever decided to try my hand at fiction.  Those conversations ebbed and flowed for a long time, but my interest, then, wasn’t in writing fiction.  I didn’t think it ever would, really.  (Example #2 of Kaye Barley eating her words).

 

I was happy as I could ever imagine writing the sort of pieces I was writing.  It thrilled me when I learned that they even had a name – “Creative Non-Fiction.”  Cool! 

 

I was over the moon when I submitted my first piece which was accepted for publication in the anthology “Clothes Lines.”  And just as proud to be accepted for a second – “Women’s Spaces Women’s Places.” During a group get-together Celia Miles, the editor of both anthologies, had for the writers she told me something I will never ever forget.  She said, “I hope you’ll continue writing, you were born to write.”  I was stunned to hear the words and overcome emotionally.  And I will never ever forget the feeling.  That coming from a woman I admire as much as I do Celia is something to be cherished – as is she.

 

And then I retired.

 

And I wasn’t filling my days as productively as I would have liked.  This after having made myself one promise when I retired – to spread my wings.  I would now have the time to explore creative outlets I had not had the time to explore while working.

 

And so, I started writing a novel.

 

I remembered reading the quote about writing the book you want to read, and decided that’s what I would do.

 

I’m drawn to novels with strong characters with strong connections and who share a clear, strong love and loyalty to one another.  I enjoy a setting as a character on its own.  I love the south and a lot of my favorite authors and books are southern.  There was never a question about it being set anywhere but the south.  I have a close bond with the ocean, an intense love of the beauty and sheer raw energy of it, the beach, the marshes and the coast.  So all those things were my “given.” Other things I enjoy, both in my life and in my fiction, include art, pretty clothes and good food.  So – I tossed those into the mix as well.  Magic?  Love it – let’s have a little!  Wise women - GOTTA have a wise older woman or two, and if one of them ends up being a ghost - well, it's the south so it'll work.  And then, just like Alice Hoffman said – the characters took on a life of their own and started writing the words.  Wow.  I had always heard writers say this happened, but this was my first experience with it.  I have to say – it’s a powerful thing.  At the end of the day I would go back and read what I had written and often find passages I truly did not remember writing.  And I’d think to myself, “did I write that?  I like it!”

 

It was a secret for a very long time.  You knew and Earl knew.  And Donald knew.  That was it. 

 

You, being you – were supportive and helpful in all ways.  Your personalized copy of YOU CAN WRITE A MYSTERY is always close by – along with Anne Lamott’s BIRD BY BIRD, and Stephen King’s ON WRITING.

 

Earl, on the other hand – has stood next to me with a whip!  Actually, he has held my hand and patiently walked me through the process from day one until almost two years later we said, “The End” together.  I lost track of how many drafts we did.  Each time I thought I was finished he’d say,  “no, not yet.”  And I’d find myself working on yet another draft.  And, loathe as I often was to admit it, each one was better than the last.

 

Now, the manuscript is out to a few “First Readers.”  Once it comes back I’ll have some decisions to make.  More re-writes, or not.  We’ll see.

 

Any wisdom or warnings you’d want to impart to somebody beginning their first novel?

 


DO IT!  And don’t wait for “the right time.”  Just do it.  A year is going to pass whether you’re writing or not.  Do you want to look back and wish you had started that book?  Just do it.   And, you know what – do it for “YOU.”  Forget about all the other stuff – the publishing end, the querying, the critiques – just write it for yourself.   No one will ever be able to take that accomplishment away from you.  No one.

  

What was your work routine while writing Whimsey?

 

I wrote almost every day.  At first, my routine consisted of getting up with Donald and as he was going to work, I would go to the gym, run errands, come home and write.  Sometimes for a few hours, sometimes well into the night – that just depended on whether the characters were feeling particularly playful and creative that day or not.

 

After a while the routine changed.  I would send pages to Earl and then I’d be so excited when they came back I’d start working on them.  It didn’t matter if I saw his email at 11:00 at night or 6:00 in the morning, or what had been on the schedule for that day.  The writing pretty much took over.  After that, there was no routine, really.  Except that I would still write almost every single day.

 

Any surprises along the way? Had you plotted it out beforehand? Did that plot work?

 

Oh, you’ve made me laugh.  Surprises?  More than I’ll live long enough to tell.  And some I shouldn’t.

 

The first surprise was how much I didn’t know, and admittedly, a lot of which I still don’t.  Luckily, I had an angel by the name of Earl.  If I had had even a clue as to what I didn’t know about writing, it’s doubtful I would have started.  Earl Staggs made most of the doubts disappear and had me forging forward.

 

Not many people writing their first novel will be lucky enough to have a one-on-one writing class like I did.  Earl Staggs is a terrific writer.  He’s also a great teacher.  He’s an editor beyond the pale.  He’s not one to let you slide and when I wanted to just quit, he had a sly way of keeping me in the game. 

 

The next surprise was how hard it was.  And a very good friend said to me, “the only people who don’t think it’s hard are those people who haven’t done it.”  True, that.

 

A really big surprise came when I finally finished the manuscript to the point that I felt like it was ready to be seen.   I was surprised, honestly, that finding the guts to let it go and be seen was harder than writing it.

 

 

So.  I sent the first ten pages to someone – a writer.  The very VERY first critique I got started off, “Oh, Kaye, I so wanted to like this.” 

 

Thump. 

 

That was the sound of my heart hitting the floor before it shattered into a million pieces. 

 

But – there were valid points made and I paid attention and rewrote some of those first 10 pages.

 

But then I was scared to death to let anyone else see it.

 

But – Hank Phillippi Ryan said to me – “Somebody’s got to see it sooner or later – RIGHT?!”

 

Well – of course, she was right.

 

I then sent the first two chapters to four writer friends.  Each replied with something kind in the subject line of the email (something everyone should remember to do if asked to do a critique, in my humble opinion – it made a world of difference to that “thing" - that huge lump that had taken up residence in my stomach).  Each started off with an encouraging word and then proceeded to make comments on what they had read.  The surprise here is that each person had totally different takes on the same two chapters.  Something that bothered one, got applause from another, etc.  Interesting and an exercise I learned from.

 

Had I plotted it beforehand?  No.  Honey, I didn’t know plots from popcorn. 

 

I had a basic premise and that really didn’t waver.  Characters pushed their way in (some I pushed back out), and a story line I wanted from the very beginning changed in a major way, then disappeared completely.

 

And then Earl let me know (in his inimitable gentle manner) that I didn’t have a plot at all.  Just a bunch of really nice characters with no conflict and it was just boring as hell.  Pffftt!

 

So now there’s a plot.  There are still some really nice characters, but there is conflict.  And there’s magic.  Some folks may not like it – but I’m proud of it, and hey – I like it.  And really, I’m the person I was writing it for.  I wrote a novel I wanted to read which is just what I started out to do.  If it brings others some enjoyment, that’s the cherry on top.

 

 

What’s next?

 

Good question!  I wish I knew!!!!  Right now I’m still waiting to hear back from first readers, including another writer friend. 

 

Depending on what the readers say, and how many agree on what they think individually. That’s going to help determine whether or not I think I still have more work to do or if I’m ready to start the agent query process (which scares me to death).

 

If the agent queries turn up nothing, I’m thinking about what I might do, but no decisions yet.  I’ll be 64 years old this month, so truthfully?  I’m not sure I want to give as much time to the querying, the heartbreak of rejections and all that, as some people would.  I’m going to try the traditional route – but I don’t think I’m willing to give it years of trying.  An eBook is not something that puts me off and while I’m querying I’m planning on looking into this as well.

 

In the meantime, I’m making notes for Book #2.  It’s not a series, but I’d like to do a book about each of my main characters – five lifelong women friends who are artists and have returned home to the Island of Whimsey to pursue their art.  And a wicked pixie named Earlene who favors tight fitting designer clothes and Louboutin stilettos and a cigar smoking matriarchal ghost who drops in from time to time to make sure things are going as planned.

 
 
Was it hard writing both the blog and a novel at the same time?

 

It’s been hard.  Mostly because if I was writing for Meanderings and Muses I felt guilty and felt like if I was writing I should be writing for Whimsey (the working title of my novel). 

 

In the midst of all this, I received an invitation from the elegant, delightful and OH so talented Hank Phillippi Ryan to join the Jungle Red Writers at their blog as “Oh, Kaye!”  -  a monthly contributor.  I was so thrilled, I put aside my guilt.  You kidding – Jungle Red!  Wow!  Forget guilt!  So, some of what I would maybe have written for Meanderings and Muses has instead gone to Jungle Red, which I’m honored to be a part of. 

 

This allowed me to pursue another love that I could use Meanderings and Muses for - photography. Donald and I both have been interested photography for a very long time - sharing some of our work at M&M has become an almost daily exercise, and one we both enjoy. We're part of an incredible group of people doing a photo a day challenge. Spreading my wings is turning out to be a fabulous thing to do - I hope I remember to keep doing it and not relax into a position of just existing without creative challenges.

 
The writing end of Meanderings and Muses is being kept afloat for the most part by my weekly guests.  They’re getting as many hits as ever, so my not being there much hasn’t made a bit of difference in M&M’s audience.  Oddly enough, even though there are usually a few hundred hits per day, there are not a lot of commenters.  This used to worry me, now I don’t really give it much thought other than I worry that the guests might feel ignored or slighted.  But what I’ve been told by many of the writers is that they see a surge in their amazon numbers after they’ve visited.    And that’s a great thing!  If someone discovers a new writer, or picks up a book because of Meanderings and Muses I have done a good thing and I’m happy.

 

What’s ahead for Meanderings and Muses?

 

ANOTHER great question!

 

I don’t know.  It’s never going to go away – but it will change.  And change is good.

 

It has, truthfully, changed a little every year.  Some of the guest writers are now writing about things other than their books.  One year we featured people’s work spaces - one year we featured some of their pets.  This year we’ve had more “chats” featuring two or three people at a time having a conversation.

 

This year I posted a lot of poetry during the month of April because it’s National Poetry Month.  This did not eliminate our mystery writers because some are also poets.  Reed Farrel Coleman is a wonderful poet and I was happy to post some of his work. While some of our mystery writers were shy about sharing their work, they did share privately, and some suggested poets to me they thought I might enjoy.

 

Next year, however, will be different from the others in that I don’t have a schedule of guest bloggers.  I intend to have guests – but not as many, and perhaps just randomly.  I’m still sorting through all that.

 

I don’t feel like, right now, I have the time  to dedicate to Meanderings and Muses at a level that I once did.  At least, not while I'm working on all the many aspects of writing and rewriting Whimsey and all the things that follow, but that could change in a minute.  I like knowing that if I wake up in the middle of the night with something on my mind I have this wonderful spot that’s all mine where I can write and sort through it all.  That’s become a very important fact of my life.

 

It will always, though, always be a place with the mystery community at its heart.

 

We’ll just see where it all goes . . . .

 

What question do you wish I’d have asked you instead of/in addition to these?

 

Jude, I don’t think you missed a thing!  And it’s been a bunch of fun.  Before we say "The End," I want to thank you for all the support you've given me.  And for always being there to answer a question, or let me bat around a few ideas.  Mostly though, I want to thank you for what you're doing in Florida.  You've always been an inspiration, but making this big move to temporarily leave your beloved home and much adored family to work on a cause you believe in so deeply is worthy of "Hero Status."  Hugs, my friend.  You are the best.