Mentally Speaking.

 I am about to write a book (I will not reveal the title until it is produced) wherein I will discuss mentality, mental illness, mental awareness, and the invisible wounds, scars, and disabilities that rise up and hold people hostage from life. Whether it is because they don't or can't see their worth, or because others can't see or refuse to see their worth, the fact is some are in fact essentially invisible, ignored, overlooked, and even (sadly) dismissed.

    The book will reveal industries, entire industries that choose to ignore people; and even those people they have sworn oaths to assist and protect. The book will shed light, shine exposure, and peel back the corners to blatantly put the blame where it should be put; and in some cases, surprise the world with what I can show so boldly.

    Some have told me not to write the book. I've been told I'll be threatened if I do. I'm writing it as a fiction novel, there will be no real names, real corporations, or real attachments to what I suppose or suggest. I'm holding out a light and lifting it up so that you, the reader can see for yourself what is literally all around you. You're in your car, you're next to them. You're shopping at the store, you're next to them? Who? Who are you next to, you ask.  You're next to the invisible people, and you're next to those who purposely don't see them. My desire for my audience is that they LOOK.

    When you look, when you see, when you hear, when you listen, and when you understand, you'll be in a better position hopefully, to either lend a hand, say a prayer, or make small changes that can affect everyone. We're here at this time for a reason; not one of us knows how long we're allowed to remain here. There will be a judgment for all of us; not for punishment necessity, but for blessings poured upon us for having made the right choices to be there for someone else without expecting anything in return. We are to love, and this book is about that, about love. 

    I think it was Albert Einstein who said that if we "... judge fish by their abilities to climb a tree, it will believe its entire life that it is stupid." If you take me, a woman with a Ph.D. and the ability to write a 390-page book in under two weeks, and you put me in a room with an orchestra on the stage, you can't compare my worth or my experiences. I would be lost. I have no talents that could compare or be useful in that room. I am only as worthy as I see or know myself to be, and if I allowed myself to think I was worthless because I couldn't play an instrument, read music, or make extraordinary sounds, I would be depressed and anxious wondering why I was so damaged.

    We, all of us, are wonderful. We are all genuinely genuine, and creatively creative. We are bountiful with our own us-ness, we are unique and singular. This book, I pray, will allow someone (even if it's only one person) to know that you are not alone, you are not unseen, you are not worthless, you are not invisible. You are not less, you are not reduced or void. You have everything you need to be the one thing you were created to be, and that is YOU. I'm the only me that I could ever be, and that's a damn good thing - - there should not be two of me out there.

    Stay tuned. I'll keep you posted.

Photo Credit: L.A. Times.

1211 (DONE!!! Well, Sort of)

 So, this is it. The book "1211" is finished in that I have written it. I have completed the book.  Now, what I need to do is go through the manuscript tonight and check all the words and phrases that need to be in italics, and then I find all the underlined words to see if they really are misspelled or if it's supposed to be that way. I write words like thinkin' or gonna, and then when you do that the computer thinks you've made an error.

    I'll go over the red lines tonight, which are the potential errors. I'll go over the blue underlines, which are potential grammar errors. I'll do that tonight, and wait until tomorrow to go through it for more mistakes.  I will also, tomorrow, go through it and add about 70 or so "notes" or things I wanted to be sure and add. I have small phrases I want one or the other character to say, or an action they can do. I'll add that.

    The manuscript is at 82,800 words now, and by the time I am finished with it, it should have closer to 85,000 words. I'll have to see if I can stretch it to 390 pages so it fits the already-created book cover. I can go as low as 380 I think, but no lower than that without having to re-do it. If I do have something close to 380 I'll add a few blank pages at the back, or add something like a memorial. In fact, I was going to add a memorial to Toby Keith in this book. If I don't do it in this one, I will certainly do it in "Mesa". 

    This was a heck of a book to write, and I'm so glad I did it. It has a difficult finish, but one that actually (for the most part) took place. Some creative licensing was used as I was not part of the trial process. I only lived at the house when it took place and of course, I was younger, I heard rumors, but I didn't really research or investigate it at the time. I've lost all recollection of the actual names of the people who lived in the house; but then again, I wouldn't have used them anyway. 

    I will say this, we did have a Good Bill and a Bad Bill, but I have no idea what their last names were. Our real landlady's name was Wilma, and Mercedes' last name was not Kuhlman. I do know what it was, but I won't say. Arthur never existed, and neither did Celeste or Phyllis, but there were really cool people, including myself, who lived in the house. I lived in Apartment E, Celeste's apartment, and the same one Mercedes Kuhlman's boyfriend died in; in the book. 

    Done!! The book is DONE...I'll add to it tomorrow, then read it through Wednesday/Thursday, and have it ready for production next week maybe around the 19th or 20th. I'll let you know....DONE!! Woot!!

Photo Credit: Wikipedia.com

1211 82% (Woot!)

 I am 82% finished with the first draft of the book "1211" and I will say it has been a lot of fun to write. I'm going to wrap things up for now and call it another day after writing 3 chapters.  I will start Chapter 26 tomorrow, and write another 3, so 26, 27, and 28. Then, on Sunday, I'll close the whole shebang by either writing 2 chapters, ending with 30 chapters, or I'll write 3 and end up with 31, I haven't decided. 

    Who am I kidding? I don't decide these things. The characters decide. Just like they decided to take a hike and see the...oh wait, that's tomorrow. I can't tell you what they see, I only have an idea about it. I have the outline. I have them leaving their house, driving to the end of the Scottish shores to what is known as the "End of the World". This is not to be confused with the "End of the World" pub, which is at the end of Edinburgh's old street boundaries. 

    Remember, this book is taking place in Oklahoma City for the most part, but we do visit Edinburgh, and we talk about Chicago.  The next Posh thriller will begin in Oklahoma City, and leave Edinburgh in the dust for nearly the entire book, but speaking of dust, it will take us through the Mauve Desert, and there will be a tribute to Toby Keith in that book, even though he didn't come along for another 30 years. There will be someone like him in the book, and I'll be sure to give him a grand tip of my hat  -- such a really good man, that one.

    With "1211" being 82% done, I can tell you that one character has been completely changed by the events that took place in the book; she will never be the same. We see and find that less is more in some cases, but not in all cases. We have a killing, a death, an accident, and talk of other crimes. We have comparisons of things similar and things not so; it is a good book. I really like it - - I'm having a great time writing it. I even pulled out a few old friends and gave them a nod. God rest the Three Guardsmen. (Here's the link to them: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_Guardsmen )

    If you ever have the opportunity to write you should do it. I don't watch television, so I have a little more time than most do I suppose. I mean, I have on-demand CBS and Paramount, I do watch shows, but I'm not addicted to the tube or anything. I don't go out partying, and I don't go out with anyone - - dang, having said that I realize how boring I am. Maybe I need to write about how pathetic I am...LOL, nah, no one who knows me would believe me.

    So, "1211" will be done by this time Sunday. I'll read through it Monday/Tuesday, adding and fluffing. Then I'll set it down for a few days, picking it up again on the 15th or 16th, and I'll make final corrections, size it up, and send it off to be published. I'm trying to not have to stop the press so I can make even more corrections. That's the reason I'm setting it down for a few days. I need to do that. I hate it, but I can't find my own mistakes for a while after I write something. 

    It will be out in the middle of the next week with a publication date around the 20th or so.  I can't wait to get $$$ in my pocket to make all my books into Ebooks. That's the next big step for me. That will be grand.  The next Posh thriller will be titled "Mesa" and will be out in late spring or early summer. I've got another book to write in the middle of this one and that one. After I write the drama book and get back on track with Posh, I will likely write at least three more Posh books in 2024. That's the goal. Let's see if I can do it.

    Here's a book for you, it's Tom Rizzo's book https://tomrizzo.com/justice-times-three/

    

Photo Credit: TomRizzo.com 

New Tartan Book from Waverley on the Way.

 When I was a kid, and I don't remember exactly how old I was, I saw a little tartaned book in my great-grandmother's dresser drawer. She kept ideas in it and things she wanted to remember. It wasn't a diary, it was too small. I think it was a Waverley book, but if they weren't made back in the day, then it was something else. I have found or refound the Waverley notebooks online about three or four years ago and I have decided to use them for my books. I was going to have one Waverley for each Nick Posh book but after writing the notes from Murder Book into the first notebook I realized I didn't need to waste the rest of the notebook. I can use one Waverley for two books, so I am. 

Right now I have four Waverleys but one more (Isle of Skye pattern) is coming in the mail and I'll use it in the future. I have:

• Murder Book and Cask (Mackenzie Clan) green/blue/white
• Pinball and Mesa (Macleod Clan) yellow/black/red
• 1211 and Kingdom (Fraser Clan)  red/blue/some white
• Shadow and Stollen (Campbell/Blackwatch) Dark blue and black
• Death Mask and Yet to be Determined (Isle of Skye) also green/blue and white.

I am very much a fan of tartan plaids.  My other novels, the romance books, all but "Of Kilted Pleasure" have other, somewhat larger tartan-covered books because a friend purchased them for me as a gift thinking I would love them. I do love them, but all of my Posh books will be Waverley and the others can be recorded in the other books. So far I have three of these books, and like the smaller ones, they too will be host to at least two and maybe even three books. I just write ideas in them, disorganized and random ideas. Things that crop up out of nowhere and I don't want to lose them in the mire of my mind.

    I will say that I've always been a note-taker. I have a file cabinet drawer full of notebooks, and composition books, literally crammed with thoughts and notes I've taken for this or that reason over the past 500 years of my life. Before paper, I had to make do with rocks, and let me just say it's incredibly difficult to carry those from place to place. Thank God for paper. Though I am keeping the title of my next book (a dramatic book) under tight lock and key, not revealing the title literally until it is published, I will use one of the larger books for it. It is not a Nick Posh book. It is not a romance book. It is a drama, but not like "Bay Sorrel Ranch", in that no characters are falling in love, marrying, going on vacation together, hoping for the best, and making things happen.

    The new book will have a working title of "The New Book" and I'll refer to it as that until I give it the actual title. It is an exploration and expose type book that will bring to light some of the more dramatic failures of our society; the people we intentionally avoid, and why so many people are in fact ignored by our government and by those who swore an oath to protect the very people they hurt daily. It will be sad, it will be hard, it will be factual. It will bring home a lot of hurt and sorrow that needs to be brought to light because quite frankly, it's been in the dark just too long - - without the disinfectant of true light. We all need to be made aware of just how raw the world is around us -- maybe we can still do something about it. 

    The book is good. There is hope. There is joy. There is happiness. There is reality, and there will be fictional situations that didn't really happen but could have happened, and maybe did happen somewhere that I'm not aware of, but for the most part, it is a book about love and what love actually means. I think it will be a very therapeutic book for me to write. I've been in some of the situations that I'll write about - - and my mind has been to other places through videos, television, movies, interviewing, reading materials, and research. Yes, this book needs to be written. I'll make that happen, and then I'll climb back in the saddle for the next Posh thriller -- and by climbing in the saddle, I mean yeah, it's a little foreshadowing of what the good detective himself does. Woot! (or Whoa...not sure which is best to say.) 

Photo Credit: Me

1211 (70% done) Last Umph!

 So, with 61,000 words in the can, I have about 70-71% of "1211" finished, and I'll do the rest over the next two or three days. This is Thursday, and I wrote three chapters. That put me over the 70% mark, and I decided to outline the last 8 chapters so I know exactly what my goals are. 

    I have about 150 notes which I'll go through to be sure I added them in the book. If I have not added them, I will try to. If I can not add them anywhere I'll save them for the next book. I'll go back over the notes from the last two books to see if I need to add any of those notes to this book. That will be fun. After all the notes have been exhausted I should be at 86,000 to 90,000 words and since I have the book cover completed for a 390-page book, I'll be sure to make the font a 12-pt Georgia font, and the spacing 1.25 or 1.3 so there is enough space but not too much space, and the book should turn out to be perfectly sized.

    This one, as are all the books now, is a 5x8 book, paperback and with cream paper. I did have white paper on some I think. I may go back into their metrics and change that for future publishing. I think I like the cream paper better. It's a preference and I think I do like it better. I don't know why. It really shouldn't be a thing, but it's sort of a thing now in my head.

    Soon, and very soon, I will have all the books on Epub and they'll be listed on Amazon as Ebooks. That will lower the price for everyone. I make about $1.45 a book now, and when I lower the price of the books from $18.00 (which I don't have control over) to $2.99 for Ebook, which I do have control over, I will earn $2.10 per book - - that's really a much better thing for me and for my readers. I don't and can't control what Amazon charges for books.

 When I upload them I must make a small profit, and I must list the books over the print-cost. The average book will cost the printer $6.48 to print and I have to earn $1.45 according to them. You'd think I could make the book $10.00 but no, they want their profit too. The lowest I can set my price is $17.00 and in some markets, it negates my profit if I do. (I don't get it, but it is what it is. I follow the rules.)

    So, "1211" is about to be finished. I will then go over it for obvious errors, adding, and fluffing. Then, I'll go over it again for mistakes, corrections, and more boo-boos. Then, I may wait a week, and go over it again, so my eyes will catch the mistakes. I tend to not see them all if I am too close to it. I usually run a test book and go through it, but I am trying to not do that because someone usually buys the book and there it is out there for the world to see with mistakes until I can pull it and make corrections. I think I may be able to ask them to run it, and print me a book to correct, but hold off on all sales until I give a final word, but if they charge for that I can't do it.

    Believe it or not, I'm not a successful author yet, just an author. I'm not writing to get rich; if anyone buys my books I get excited. I really do. I think it's cool to make something and have others like it - - but I write to write. So, when "1211" is done, and I've gone through it, and it's for sale, I'll post that as well. It will be on my other social media platforms too. 

https://www.linkedin.com/in/judestringfellow (LinkedIn)

https://www.instagram.com/judestringfellowauthor/ (Instagram)  I have a Facebook, but it's really more for family and friends whom I've known. There's another Facebook out there actually, and I really should keep it up. I may do that. It's 

https://www.facebook.com/jude.stringfellow  I just have to figure out what my password is so I can get back onto it. LOL

I'll keep you posted!!

Photo Credit: Me.

Waxing a bit Nostalgic.

 I just watched a YouTube video showcasing the differences between the kids born and raised in the 60s and 70s and those who were born in the mid-2000s (Gen Z basically). The whole video had me laughing, shaking my head, agreeing with the guy narrating the thing, and saying "Yes!" or "You're damn right" on most of it. 

    Times were different. We went to church. We walked to school with or without our friends (my first-grade teacher lived across the street, so yeah, I made it to class on time. She walked me from Kindergarten to fifth grade every single day! She carried a Winchester rifle too, and yes, we shot game hens and rabbits on the way to and from school. Not lying.) Mrs. Earp's husband was related to THE Earps. She was rough and tough to boot.

    As kids, we didn't try to get in trouble. We were quite aware that if we got in trouble at school we got in more trouble at home. At the parent-teacher conference, the kids sat out in the hall and we were told to stay quiet. If my parents had come out of the room and I wasn't sitting right where they left me I would not be able to sit down for two Sundays in a row. It was that way.  My teachers never lied. They didn't give me any grade I didn't deserve, and they never made excuses for me either. Ethics were a thing in our day.

    Some of the more dangerous things we did as kids have been talked about and demonstrated in so many YouTube and TikTok videos. We slid down hot galvanized steel slides that were banked on concrete and had rivets sticking out where the rails were connected. We scalded ourselves, fell off, and scraped our knees, hands, heads, and elbows. We got over it. We used the water from a garden hose to wash off, and if we were thirsty we drank from it.  We rode in cars without seat belts, with our parents smoking in the car, and maybe - - just maybe one of them would roll the window down an inch or so to let the smoke out, but not in the summer; they couldn't afford to let the cool air out.

    We became spit-friends and blood-brothers, even if we were girls. We cut our hands or fingers and mushed them together swearing our oaths to remain besties forever. I think I am still keeping that promise with Jeannie  -- so they did actually work. We were given pocket knives around the age of six or seven, and guns around the age of nine or ten. We were taught to use both. I think my dad taught me that I could kill, gut, and skin a fish or a squirrel with my knife - - and he may have mentioned that if a boy tried to kiss me I could do the same to him.

    We tried out for sports and for cheerleading. We weren't accepted just because we showed up. We had to keep our grades above a B, not a C...and if we dared to show our faces with a C on our report cards we had to do the dishes and take out the trash all the way through the next nine weeks until the next reports came back with better grades. It just was the way that it was. 

    We played "Pin the Tail on the Donkey" with a stick pin that was run through a ribbon. We were spun around in circles a dozen times and set loose to try and find the paper with the donkey on it, and we were blindfolded. There is no end to what could have happened and most likely did. We snuck drinks from our dad's beers and finished off mom's coffee at tender ages. We were swimming in lakes, ponds, and creeks with the fish, turtles, gars, and whatever else decided to show up. I remember tossing a snake at my sister when it swam in front of me.

    There were trees to climb and I'm not talking about lower branches. If you were caught sitting on a lower branch you better have a book in your hands; otherwise, you called a chicken. We threw dirt clods that were hard as rocks at each other from greater heights and chased the culprits down the streets on our bikes without caring if a car was in front of us or behind us. We knew the drivers had eyes and could see us. I don't remember having a set of lawn darts, but we played it when we went to my cousins' houses.  Yes, we tried to spike each other; it's what you did.

    Another thing we did was ring doorbells and run away, or we'd ring them and stand there waiting for friends to come out and play. We rang doorbells to hear them chime. We usually got a look from the father or mother of the kid we just said goodbye to, but sometimes other people's doorbells were cooler than mine were. We prank-called people too. You know we did. We didn't do all the mean nasty sinister stuff like telling people they had three days to live. No, we just said things like "Hey, is your fridge running? Better catch it!!" We were dorks. We were really really cool though.

    Our skates strapped right onto our tennis shoes and we had to tighten them with a key. They were metal, and the wheels were metal too.  The tire swings we affixed to our trees hadn't been cleaned and if it rained it rained, and we dealt with the water sloshing all over us. We nibbled on the tar that the city crews laid down on our streets, but not before we popped all the bubbles. What? It didn't get hot enough where you live to have your street tar bubble up? Well, sometimes you had to use a stick so you didn't get burned.  You know what else we had back then? We had horny toads. (Brown Texas Horned 
Toads) They were everywhere. 

    I miss those kids. I miss that my kids were probably the last age of kids to have spit fights, impromptu mud-wrestling, or sleepovers. Times have changed, but not for the better. I can't wait to get to heaven and do these things again -- maybe not the door-knocking thing but yeah...the door-knocking thing too. I'll do it. 

Photo Credit: Reddit

Me, the Comedian.

 About the time a certain creative and ruggedly handsome songsmith from Edinburgh was being born, I was doing a very good bit myself in Hollywood as a stand-up comedian. I laugh now about it for a few reasons. First, no one really does it anymore straight out of high school like I did. I was actually, at the time, just barely old enough to be in the bar in Oklahoma, and in California where I was at the time, I was too young. (and there I was up on their stage performing.)

    I look back at my young and adventurous self, and again, I have a chuckle or two because I was literally unstoppable about getting up on stage to say whatever the hell I had in my head to say. I rarely depended on a skit or routine. I just winged it; said what was popular for the time, the day, that hour, you know, if something was happening right in front of me I'd go off and talk about it. I used to ask the audience what they wanted to talk about and then proceeded to make up stuff so I could continue to involve them in the performance. Gosh darn, I wish we had smartphones back then. 

    When I say I was unstoppable I mean I would literally jump and volunteer to go so no one had to feel nervous or giddy. I was never nervous or anxious about being heard; which probably isn't something that currently surprises anyone who knows me. Being a comedian helped in a few ways with any of the negative feelings I may be experiencing. I'd simply showcase it, involve the others, and dismiss it as if it was something that needed to be packed away - - or scorched. I loved the physical aspect of it too. The gesturing, acting, moving about. If there was a pole near me either on stage or just off of it, I would run up to it, throw myself onto it, spin around, and stick my legs out before turning upside down and wrapping one or both around the pole while I continued the skit. (Yeah, it was a fun time to be alive...and thin.)

    The drinking age in my state, the state of Oklahoma, was 18 at that time. Everyone I knew was drinking. I made a lot of money off those people too. I would get three or four of them rounded up to play poker and since I didn't drink, I'd wait them out, bet heavily throughout the night, bluff my way out of every hand, and take home the money. I could get them to show their cards, that was helpful. I'd bet them I could tell them what they were holding. When I couldn't actually do it, I'd ask them to prove it - - and they would. 

    I remember when I worked at the Improv in Los Angeles I had to find my own way there and back, but it wasn't a problem for me. I worked for three separate studios in their transportation departments and I could take home something as long as I brought it back. I owned a really cool Karmann Ghia, but why pay for gas when the studio can?  I was never a headliner but moved up the ranks to third or fourth most of the time. You'd go in on an open mic night, do your bit, get votes and the next week if you came back you went on in the order they told you to go on -- I loved that. I used it to gauge whether or not what I was doing was funny enough to make the next leap. It was.

    I didn't resort to being sexual; that was what I used to not be. I would take a broom, mop, and bucket with me on stage and talk and joke while I swept the floor, claiming the last guy was so filthy I felt as if I needed to clean the place up a bit before I got started. It always worked.  The Bee Gees worked too - - I know every word to every song I think, and I did then as well. I'd pull out a lyric and challenge someone to finish it - - they couldn't because they were into acid rock, even classic, but not the Bee Gees. I'd make up some lie about being from Scotland and continue the rest of the skit in that accent. Loved it. (The Bee Gees were born on the Isle of Man, not Scotland)

    I didn't start out as a stand-up. I tell people who choose to listen, that I actually started out as a sit-down comedian. I began the first day of Kindergarten; the class was my audience. No, I wasn't the class clown, I was the class comedian - - a huge difference. I thought for years I would make my living up on stage, and I did for 3 years, but it never really paid, so I had other jobs as well.  When I worked in L.A. I also worked the studios taking vehicles back and forth. I also babysat a mansion, and from time to time, usually three days a week for three hours a day, I would answer the phone at California Student Loan Finance Corporation. I still can't get that out of my head sometimes when the phone rings.

    "Hello, California Student Loan Finance Corporation, this is Jude, how may I help you?" takes a little time to say, but it gives the caller time to get their stories straight, doesn't it? You can't exactly say you've reached the wrong number when someone makes you wait that long.  The CSLFC was just a few blocks east of Twentieth Century Fox studios on Pico Blvd. I would walk to their offices and one day I came across a big, huge, never-seen-before snail - - the joy! I picked it up and carried it to work with me. He died a few days later since I didn't know how to properly care for a snail, but he'll be the first one I'm sure to greet me at the gates of Heaven - - with an instruction manual. I'll have to read it, and agree that I was woefully negligent before he'll let me pass - - Jesus, you know, forgives -- not necessarily the escargot.

Photo Credit: Lincoln someone - - Forgot his last name. It was 1982, and I was in the middle of the Pacific...freezing. 

1211 (53500 words and growing) 62% Done.

 Yes, yes, I got really busy today, and I finished three more chapters of the latest Nick Posh thriller titled "1211".  If you don't know, 1211 N.W. 30th was an address in Oklahoma City that I really did live at when I was quite young and stupid. I've changed the address in the book to 1211 W. Garvey Street, and I give it a much more affluent style and living space(s) than I ever had. It's all part of the creative license I'm so proud of. 

    You'll never believe what I did, and only because I can. No, Tex, I didn't ask permission, I just did it. I did it because I wanted to. I did it because I could, and I did it because it made my book that much more interesting. I claim in the book "1211" that a baby elephant was born in captivity at the Oklahoma City Zoo when in reality, the darn thing was born in the Tulsa Zoo! Woot! I went there!! Changed the course of history and the true facts just out of sheer want-to. That's me. I will not apologize. I claimed that elephant's birth for my fair city, and you know what, I may alter one or two more realities in the process!  You just never know with me. It is a fiction book - - nothing can be or should be taken seriously; not in this one.

    So, today, in the book, Mercedes finds herself at the hospital after being pushed to the ground by a silent rather hulking bully; we're sure Posh won't let it rest. He'll find a way to nail the S.O.B. when he can. It may take a minute to think about, but he'll get his man. Speaking of men who have been got - - the body of the murdered man was indeed found today in the basement of the old stoic home and just like that, he disappeared! WHAT? Who? When? How? Well, you'll just have to read the book now, won't you? (I have to write the rest of it before you can. I haven't figured it all out yet.)

    Tonight I sat down with Ginger and went over the small tartan book that I use for notes for this book. I have a tartan-covered book for each of my books. They will end up sharing a notebook when I get to the point where I run out of tartan-covered notebooks. I can fit two books in one for notes. It's good to know. Anyway, I sat down with Ginger and I wrote out the little notes I had been scribbling into the book. I write them all out, type them out, and then I refer to these notes when I'm fluffing and stuffing.

    I'm not at the point where I need to fluff or stuff just yet, but I'm sort of kind of doing that along the way to make things seem as if I know what I'm doing. It's a game I play with myself. I pretend to be this really successful author who has nothing to do all day but read and sweat words; it's a really fun game. I like to think I'm winning at it, but again, you'll have to wait for the next chapter to be written to see if I really made any progress or process. It's not always crystal clear because I can't always read my notes -- yeah, it's that way most of the time.

    Tomorrow will be a big day. I will type up the notes and then start placing the tidbits into the already 62% of the book that I have finished. I'll scratch through each note to show myself that I did in fact use the note I took. If I don't use the note, I'll save it for the next book - - I do that too. I go back over the notes I have written for the other books to see if any of those notes will fit into this book - - sort of a tying up of the loose ends from a book that may have had an unanswered question just hanging and dangling out there in space. I do that too.

    I even found myself writing notes in the "1211" notebook, then circling the note and writing the words "Mesa", "Cask", "Shadow" or "Kingdom" next to the circle. Those are the next four books in the Nick Posh series. After Shadow is "Death Mask" and after that I don't know yet -- but I'll work on it. I'll keep you posted. The next book I'm going to write will not be a  Nick Posh thriller at all. It won't be a romance novel. It will be a dramatic novel and I've already started it. I don't have a tartan-covered book for it yet, I want it to have its OWN. This one is really rather - - special. You'll find out why later, I promise.

    Until next time -- eat your vegetables and sing your praises. Always turn off the basement lights and if you need to double lock that door -- go ahead and do that now.

Photo Credit: Me. This is the "1211" notebook.

1211 ( Over 50% Done )

 I just wrote another 5200 words or more, putting me over the 50% spot of my book. I think there are 45,000 words now, and the book will be between 86,000 and 90,000 as it may be a thicker book. I'm not really sure. I want to try to keep them around the same size so they are about the same cost for me to order them. Right now my books cost me about $6.50 to have them printed, and $3.99 to mail to me, so for right at $10.50 or so I can enjoy my own book in book form. I don't want that to be higher than it needs to be.

    I've written Chapters 15 and 16 today. Neither of them was what I was expecting, but I like them both. Indirectly they explain one of the residents at the house, and in a very direct way the 16th chapter gives us an insight as to who was murdered, why he was murdered, where he is buried, and what we're gonna have to see take place concerning the murderer. Time is a funny thing.

    The next few chapters will deal with the relationship of the deceased and the person who ended his life. Next, we'll find a way to uncover and recover the body in such a way that it doesn't bring attention to the murderer as it may have been an accident or even self-defense so so so many years before. Is it really necessary to punish someone for something after such a long time when they've only been a model citizen since the event? (Well, yes, of course, but there are mitigating circumstances, to be sure.)

    I'm finding that the ideas in this book come out of nowhere for me. I have some of the memories locked away in my head and then there are made-up stories that tie in, twist in, tangle with, and simply take over. There are truths and half-truths, there are lies and outright fabrications of fantasy! It's wonderful and I am fully enjoying every last minute of it. I have no idea why I took a week or 10 days off, but I did, and now I'm back at it. I won't make any predictions as to when the book will be done. I'm already past the day I thought it would be, so we'll go with I don't know.

    After "1211" I'll write a novel that isn't a Nick Posh thriller. It won't be a romance either. It is a dramatic novel, and one I won't reveal the title of as it really is that big of a secret. It's the biggest secret. I have worked out a plot and storyline, but now I need to fill it in with the really cool stuff. There will be death and even murder, but the characters don't investigate or try to solve anything. It's information they use. I won't say more. I'll do a ton of research for the book, I know that.

    For now, "1211" is on the examination table and must be attended to before it ruptures. Too many fun stories ahead, and I need to figure out which ones to leave in, and which ones to leave out....but I really don't want to leave anything out - - that's the problem. I could have a sequel to it, but I doubt I will. I'll just do a flashback now and again  -- that'll work.  I'm back on track, so hopefully tomorrow I'll write two more chapters and we can pick up where we left off. (I say we...I mean me.)

Photo Credit: VintageHatShop.com 

Sesame Seeds are GREAT (I KNEW IT!!)

 Sometimes I pat myself on the back for knowing something, and other times I stand around waiting for someone else to do it because you know, you don't want to look too proud, but this is one of those times that I simply must toot my own horn because I was not only right, I was dang-flat-out right, and na-na-na-boo-boo to the kids I went to high school with who made fun of me; you know who you are!!

    I was that kid, and maybe you know one or two of us, I was that kid who ate licorice, chewed clove-flavored gum, and couldn't get enough of those sticky good sesame seed candies from the Asian store. I couldn't wait to visit my grandparents because I could sneak out of their backyard, cross a few streets and fields, and make my way to the part of town my parents whispered about; Oklahoma City's own "Chinatown".  They had a live fish market, and they had weird food for sure. One of the things they had were sticky sheets of candy that you weren't able to bend and break, you had to cut through it. It was made of sugar or corn syrup I'm sure, but 99% of it was nothing but sesame seeds; gloriously stuck together with love. I could not get enough.

    Because I didn't want anyone to know I had gone by myself to the stores we were all forbidden to go to, I could only buy enough to eat on the way back, and then hope Mom didn't find the tiny seeds in my pockets later on; but that was never happened. She knew. Moms know.  When I got a little older she would take me to the stores to buy it, but she wouldn't share it with me; she thought it was disgusting. I have to this day, no idea who introduced it to me, but I can't stop eating it. 

    In high school, we had a few cafeteria ladies who swore by sesame seeds as well, and they added them to several of our food items. I loved it. My friends hated it. I remember saying how good sesame seeds were for you, and I think I even said then that they could be the reason I'm so chill - - and now I know through research that I may have been right all along about that! Sesame seeds and sesame oil literally help to reduce anxiety and stress levels in both animals and humans! Not only that, it helps with pain, promotes and releases serotonins and it lowers bad cholesterol. WHAT? Will you look at that? Little Jude knew something way way way back in the day!! Do the dance.

    Not many people like black licorice either.  My mom would say it's like eating tar. I never really tried tar before I was four, but after the 10th or 100th time my mom made the comparison I decided to try it, and she was wrong. Yep, that woman was absolutely and completely wrong. Licorice was so much better than street tar, which was the only type of tar I could find. Licorice had a better taste than tar, a better texture, a better consistency, and it went down so much better than tar ever could. I don't think I actually tried tar more than a few times, but yeah, I had her dead to rights on that one!

    Today, because I'm a grown-up, I drive my own car, and I have the rights of an American citizen, I can get into my own vehicle and drive my happy self to the Asian section of our city, which is no longer referred to as "Chinatown OKC", but we do distinguish it from the rest of the area by calling it the "Asian Market Area"; where some of the best food is served and they still stock my favorite treat -- but not in sheets these days. I have to go the other side of town to get "rounds" of it, but at my favorite store to pick it up, I get bags consisting of bars of sesame seed candy. Some brands are better than others.

    Let me just say - - and I say it with such a happy face -- next to chocolate, sesame seeds candy ranks right there; which is next to chocolate. I'm not stupid. Chocolate will always be King! (dark over light, and if it has raspberry anywhere near it, I'm all over it.) Now, I'm thinking of a new recipe; one that will have chocolate-covered sesame seeds rolled in raspberry mash, then dipped again in chocolate - - and rolled in sesame seeds. Dare I dream?

Photo Credit: Netmeds.com