The Circus Came to Town

Hubby and I went to the Cole Bros. Circus yesterday. We haven't seen a traveling circus show for a very long time. The last time we went our daughters were very young.

The Cole Bros. put on a good show. There were tigers, elephants, ponies, poodles, trapeze artists, clowns, and the guy who gets shot out of a cannon. The motorcycle act was something new to me. There were three motorcycles inside a huge metal cage--they drove around inside the ball--at a very fast speed--and did not crash. They made me very nervous.

Hubby and I were entertained. We truly enjoyed the show. It was far superior to a movie. It was all live. Simply watching the speed at which the stage was set for the next act was intriguing.

My brother was a circus roustabout one summer. He needed a summer job after high school and when the circus came to town, he decided to join it. In a few weeks, he was muscular and tanned. He had lots of exciting stories to tell about the way the circus works, how the whole circus moves from town to town, and the life of a roustabout.

I never forgot my brother's tales of the circus life. When my hero in The Fiend of White Buck Hall needed an intriguing past, I decided the circus had been a part of his life. It fit.

If the circus comes to your town, go and see it. It is well worth the price of admission. Maybe it will inspire you. :^)

Grounds for Sculpture

Manet painted The Boating Party. Seward Johnson made it into a life-sized reproduction. And I put myself in the picture, just for fun.

If you haven't visited Grounds for Sculpture, you should. Seward Johnson founded it and many of his works are there. However, many other artists are featured there as well.

We were there last week because Daughter #3 had some of her pastels displayed in a special exhibit.



Grounds for Sculpture is incredible. I would love to go again--soon. I highly recommend it.

Just Write

Last week, a friend asked me what software I use to write my books. I was a bit surprised by the question. I just type my novels into Word. The publishers want the books in Word, or Word's rtf--depending on the publisher's preference. I don't know of any other authors who use a special software to create their stories--and I belong to several writing groups. None of those groups has ever had a workshop on writing software. Of course, I only belong to fiction writing groups. We all make up stuff in our heads and I don't know how that could ever be programmed. :^)

I went online and discovered a wealth of software programs for those who want to write a book. Some are very expensive. You can see a bunch of them here.

In looking at the features of the various programs, I must admit that having a program to help organize an index for a non-fiction book would probably be a good idea. However, for a fiction book, there is no index.

I have attended many, many writing workshops. I have read many books on writing. I have had my work critiqued. I own several dictionaries and I am a frequent visitor at dictionary.com. I have a favorite thesaurus. I write my own outlines and if I need to brainstorm, I call up a friend.

Word count and spellcheck are built into Word, but it's always good to have a real editor because Word can screw things up.

I think the best aid to help any writer in getting the job done is to put glue on the chair and sit down. Then just write and keep writing. Don't stop until you've reached the end.

You can save a lot of money on software programs that way.

Carrot Crunchies Cookie Recipe

This cookie recipe is an old favorite. There's some real good nutritious stuff in these cookies so I think it is perfectly acceptable to eat them for breakfast. Everyone in my family agrees. :^)

2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 cup butter
1 cup light brown sugar
1/3 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
1 cup finely shredded carrots (about 2 small carrots)
1 cup raisins
1 cup chopped walnuts
2 cups toasted rice cereal

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Prepare 2 large cookie sheets with parchment paper. (Or you can grease them, but the parchment paper makes cookie baking easy.)

In a bowl, combine first 5 ingredients; set aside. In large mixer bowl with electric mixer at medium speed, cream butter, sugar, milk and vanilla. Beat in eggs until light and fluffy. Add flour mixture. Stir in remaining ingredients. Drop batter by tablespoonfuls onto cookie sheets. Bake about 15 minutes. Remove from sheets, cool completely on wire rack.

The original recipe called for pecans, but I like walnuts. I also substitute a small amount of shredded coconut for some of the carrots--if I happen to have the coconut. The original recipe called for dropping teaspoonfuls of batter onto the cookie sheets and baking the dough for 10 minutes. However, the cookies came out puny. I like big cookies so I use a tablespoon.

Enjoy!

Inventions and Fiction Writers

I have an iPad. One of my sisters has an iPhone. Lately, instead of talking on the phone we video chat with FaceTime. It is almost as good as having my sister here for a visit. Way back when we were kids, the idea of video chatting was science fiction. Now it's a reality.

The amazing thing is that so many inventions were dreamed up in fiction. Most readers are familiar with the gadgets Jules Verne and H.G. Wells wrote about that were able to be produced much later when technology caught up. However, I found an incredible site on the web that details many more technological wonders that were dreamed up by novelists who were way ahead of their time.

Go to http://www.technovelgy.com/

This compilation will show that ebooks were thought up in 1961 by Stanislaw Lem. Frederik Pohl wrote about cellphone voicemail in 1965. Poul Anderson wrote of laser rifles in 1966.

So though truth may be stranger than fiction, fiction writers are rather clever when it comes to devising useful tools that people need.

Thanks to fiction writers, my sister and I can talk to each other in real time. I love those fiction writers!

Two Years Ago

Two years ago today my mother died. In the photo above, my mother is the toddler on the right. She was the daughter of a coal miner and grew up in a family with six other children. She went to art school and then joined the Marines in World War II. She met my father after the war.

Mom was truly gifted as an artist, but she also had an indomitable spirit and a heart filled with compassion.

I miss her, but I can't help but believe that she's still busy painting, giving out good advice, or delivering food to some poor soul somewhere.

Invasion

Large, black carpenter ants live in New Jersey. In fact, carpenter ants are hearty and find many locations just to their liking. Though they are not termites, they are still destructive to wooden structures like houses. You can find information online about these prolific insects here.

Over the years, carpenter ants have wandered into our house--typically during the springtime. We stepped on them and bought ant baits which we placed in corners about the house. That seemed to alleviate the problem.

However, on Thursday the ants chose our home for their annual convention but they really should have made reservations first. We were totally unprepared for the invasion. There were hundreds of them crawling around in the living room. It resembled a scene in a horror film. I got out the vacuum to remove them and while that did not kill them, I placed the scurrying contents of the vacuum into a plastic bag and tied it tightly in the hope that they would suffocate.

An exterminator came later in the day to assess the situation. He was impressed with the size of the ants. Maybe what we had in our house was a convention for bodybuilding ants. The exterminator set up an appointment to have the house treated on Saturday. Meanwhile, I had to deal with the ants. I spent much of the day vacuuming the aliens life forms crawling across the rug. Some of them came in carrying food on their mandibles. Maybe there was a potluck supper going on.

By that evening the influx of bugs had diminished but Daughter #1 read online that carpenter ants are most active from 10 pm to 2am. She placed another fresh ant bait near the spot beside the chimney which the ants appeared to be using as their special entrance to the big convention.

We did not sleep well, but in the morning while we did find a few ants it was nothing like the inundation of the previous day.

The exterminator sprayed outside and inside on Saturday. On Sunday, not a single ant was to be seen. I'm hoping it stays that way.

My Experience in Sales

One summer, between my junior and senior year of college, I landed a job as an aide in a summer school program. It was a great experience since I intended to become a teacher. However, it paid next to nothing and I needed more money for college. To supplement my puny salary, I decided to sell cosmetics. My success in selling cosmetics depended almost entirely on the vanity of women. Fortunately, many women long to be beautiful and anything that will help them toward that goal is something they desire to own. (Especially if it is not too expensive.)

In fact there were only two real problems selling a line of beauty aids for me. One was my fear of getting bit by a dog. I went door-to-door initially to gather a customer base, but I skirted around any house with a snarling dog.

My other downfall was that I tended to use up my profits by buying many of the cosmetics for myself. Yes, I longed to be gorgeous and alluring just like everyone else. I believed all the hype--and, of course, I looked in the mirror and found myself lacking--even though I was twenty, thin, and did not have a single wrinkle in my face. Still, my lips seemed too thin. I had freckles. I wanted glowing cheeks and come-hither eyes. I put on way too much makeup.

Nevertheless, I had fun. I got to chat with people, something I've always enjoyed because in the process I collect gossip and characters--an extremely useful habit to develop for a writer.

My customers never complained about the products I sold. I'd douse myself with the newest fragrance, they would get a good whiff when I walked in the door and then they would order some for themselves.

It was a great business.

Selling books is far more difficult than selling cosmetics. Some people don't read and those who do read, don't read romances. Most people refer to my habit of touting my wares as shameless self-promotion. In addition to that, there's always criticism in the form of reviews.

Despite that, some of the techniques I learned in selling cosmetics actually do work in selling books.

Here are the salient points:

1. Stay away from snarling dogs.

2. Dress up and smell good.

3. Smile.

4. Enjoy the conversation, wherever it goes. (You might get an inspiration for another character.)

5. Always believe in your product. (I have had to explain over and over what a romance novel is. Some people really do not understand the genre at all.)

6. Help the customer find what they want. If they don't want to read any of your books, point them to another author who writes in the genre they claim to enjoy.

7. Keep writing!

For Sale--Again!

Prince of the Mist was originally published in 2005 by New Concepts Publishing. At that time, the book received wonderful reviews and sold surprisingly well in those pre-Kindle days when few readers knew what an e-book was.

NCP decided to cull their collection at one point. Like all publishers, they wanted room for new books. Still, they quickly gave me back my rights and subsequently published two other books of mine--and one of those has been my own personal bestseller, so far.

Three of the four books returned to me were picked up by another publisher, but Prince of the Mist languished in slush piles here and there. I found it disheartening because I loved Wildon and Tia. I knew there were readers who would love them, too.

Fortunately, despite all the negative things said about e-publishing, it has created a wonderful opportunity for authors with a backlist. Any author can take their previously published books and publish those books on their own. Many have done it.

I decided it was time for me to dip my toe gently into self-publishing. I started by whipping up a new bookcover--something eye-catching. Then I uploaded the cover and the manuscript to Amazon's Kindle. It was not a difficult process at all.

Feeling confident, I decided to try Smashwords as well so my book could appear at other e-book distributors. Smashwords was a bit trickier. I had to carefully go through their style list, but I got the hang of it after a few tries.

Once the book was up for sale, I made another book video for it. I don't do anything fancy for the book videos, but I love the process. To me it makes the book comes alive.

Now all I have to do is promote the book, which is a job I have to do even if a publisher gives me a contract. I do not have plans for a paper edition of Prince of the Mist. For now, it can easily be read on personal computers, Kindles, Nooks, Kobos, iPhones. and iPads.

And that's awesome enough for me.

Lowering My Blood Pressure

I was diagnosed with high blood pressure about seven years ago. Since my mother suffered from high blood pressure for over thirty years, learning that I had the same problem was scary. My mother took several prescription drugs specifically for high blood pressure, but her doctors believed her anxiety exacerbated her condition and so she had tranquilizers as well.

Nevertheless, her blood pressure would often spike. Her greatest fear was that she would have a stroke. She decided to take a proactive stance and though she never stopped taking her prescription medicine, she tried every alternative known at the time to keep her blood pressure in check. She went on the Pritikin diet--reducing her fat intake to the lowest level possible. She ate raw garlic. She tried juicing her vegetables and tossed into the mix every vitamin that experts claimed would help reduce blood pressure levels. She kept a careful record of her blood pressure readings. None of her tireless efforts cured her. Her blood pressure was never truly under control.

She had a stroke at the age of eighty-six. She died a year a half later. Maybe all her healthy eating did help--there are a lot of folks with high blood pressure who never get that far.

Last week, my heart rate plummeted but my blood pressure went up. I went to my doctor who ordered another medication for me. (This is the fifth one.) However, he also became very serious and told me I will have to start walking--a lot--everyday. I was relieved that he did not suggest tranquilizers. I do not want to live in a Xanax-induced haze for the rest of my life--especially since it never did help my mother.

My father was quite surprised by my doctor's advice since none of my mother's doctors had ever mentioned anything about walking.

Obviously, times have changed and medicine is continuing to evolve. Maybe someday the doctors and the pharmaceutical companies will figure everything out. For now, I'm happy to put on my athletic shoes and take a walk. It's great medicine!

The Blogs I Miss

I have been going through my long list of bookmarked blogs and deleting some of them. There are bloggers who haven't posted anything for a year or two--or more. The blog is still there, but nothing is happening. I feel bad about deleting them from my bookmarks, but there is nothing fresh to read.

There are plenty of people who give up blogging after a while. I don't know why. Perhaps they are too busy. Perhaps they said what they have to say or they moved on to another hobby. I miss them. To me, for a while, they felt like friends. I especially loved the blogs written by other mothers about their families. It was easy to relate to them because I had gone through many of the same experiences. Sometimes I would offer advice. :^)

Inexplicably, they stopped writing. With most there was no explanation. One claimed she lost interest, but most simply no longer posted.

I worried about them.

There are those of us who continue to blog. I don't think I'll ever run out of things to say--but, of course, I also have an ulterior motive for blogging. I have books to promote and blogging regularly helps in garnering followers who might be interested in reading my books.

That's the theory. Blog and they shall read. If they like what they read on my blog, maybe they'll pick up one of my books. Marketing--not very subtle, but that's what it is. Besides, I don't always write about my books or writerly topics. I tell true tales about my family, our travels, and troubles.

The blogs I enjoyed most were the ones where nobody was selling anything. The ones where the busy mother was herding her kids here and there, feeding them, taking care of them--and the house, the garden, etc. It's not an easy job and eventually the kids grow up. Maybe that's why they stopped posting. Maybe their offspring were starting to go through that phase where they aren't cute anymore. :^(

Or maybe, they found that they enjoyed writing. Maybe they are writing their own book--right now. Maybe they'll come back to the blogosphere and start hawking their wares--like me.

I don't know, but I pray they are all safe and well.

Peanut Chicken

This is delicious, quick and easy. The perfect dish for a busy writer to prepare.

1 onion, chopped
1 clover garlic, chopped
1/4 cup peanut butter
1/2 cup chicken stock
1/4 cup honey
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon curry powder
a pinch of cardamom
a dash of Tabasco sauce
4 chicken breasts, cut into bite-sized pieces

Combine the onion and garlic, cook on high in the microwave for 2 minutes.

Stir in the peanut butter, chicken stock, honey, mustard, curry powder, cardamom, and Tasbasco. Add chicken. Cook, uncovered, on high for 6 minutes. Stir. Cook on high for 6 more minutes.

Serve over rice. (You should have a rice cooker for that!)

Pantster or Plotter?

There's that white page. What am I going to write on it? The blinking cursor waits and time moves on. I close my eyes and start typing. I can see my hero and my heroine--shipwrecked...on an island with a white sandy beach...

This is going to be fun!

That white page can be daunting, but authors are brave souls. However, they use different methods to get their books written. Some are methodical. They are the plotters. Then there are those who just sit down and write. Those are the pantsters, so called because they wing it--flying by the seat of their pants, or in their case, writing by the seat of their pants.

There are some writers who employ both methods.

Much has been written on this topic and you can find plenty of other blogs covering this subject just by typing pantster vs. plotter into Google.

As for myself, I have used outlines for several of my books, but I have often wandered away from my original plans. I have written some books completely by the seat of my pants--winging it through the manuscript. When I use that method, I have a lot more fun but I tend to go off on tangents. That results in more editing when all is said and done.

Nevertheless, I always have the story in my mind even if I do not have a detailed outline. I know the main characters, the main conflict, and the setting. It is quite an adventure to set sail without a script.

A brief survey of my Twitter friends indicates the pantster method is alive and well.

Mia_Marlowe @penelopemarzec Definitely a pantster. Once I figure out who my characters are and what they want, keeping them from getting it is my plot.

suzannelazear @penelopemarzec I'm actually a puzzler with pantster tendancies.

LdyDisney @penelopemarzec Pantster! :)

freyasbower @penelopemarzec pantster all the way. (g)

Some of my Facebook friends chimed in, too.

Nancy Sue Petersen Brandt I'm a pantster trying to reform!

Catherine Guerrero I'm a pantser and proud of it. Got my rough draft for a new novel started that way back during NaNoWriMo.

I believe using the pantster method is rather like recording a dream while being awake. To do it, I must turn off my internal editor. Then I just let it rip.

Are you a pantster or a plotter or a little of both?

Teenage Angst

Once upon a time, I was young--a teenager growing up on the "wrong" side of town--the side where the "hoods" lived. I was a shy and I wore all the wrong clothes. While I was bright and destined for college I never fit in with the "in" crowd.

Oh yes, I had plenty of angst. But I was blessed with loving parents and siblings so I eventually got over my social awkwardness--sort of. I went to college, got a job, met a nice man, had a family and started writing. Actually, I started writing when I was nine, but I became serious about my writing. There's a difference.

I have toyed with the idea of writing a young adult book for years. So today, the New Jersey Romance Writers had Cyn Balog speaking and I decided I needed to hear what she had to say. I took lots of notes and now have a lot more books on my TBR list.

She also recommended an excellent blog written by Mandy Hubbard, an agent and author of YA books.

Tonight when we went out for supper with Dad, I told him about today's lecture. He could not understand why I--as a mature woman--would want to write a book where teenagers were the main characters. I told him I was a teenager once and I remember a lot about it, maybe too much. My high school experience seems permanently embedded in my brain.

Not that I would want to write about my high school experience. Most of it was rather humdrum and while I did suffer through a few crushes, there was no great romance. But YA novels include romance and the books have happy or hopeful endings. How delightful!

So I will continue mulling over the idea.

But first I've got to finish my WIP!

The Importance of a Smile

Good dental health is a blessing. It is also costly and not an option for many people. When I was young, I rarely went to the dentist. When I did go, it was always and only for an emergency. I went to get teeth pulled--like the time I cracked a tooth on a lollipop.

My parents could not afford dental visits either. They both had full sets of dentures by the time they were fifty years old.

Fortunately, I was lucky enough to fall in love with a man who had a dental plan as part of his benefits package at work. I still have most of my own teeth--except for a bridge in the place of that empty spot due to that hard lollipop.

Our daughters regularly visited the dentist throughout their childhood. Their teeth are in much better condition than mine.

I just got another crown on one of my teeth this week. A tooth had cracked when I chomped down on a hard pizza crust. Our dental plan does not cover the entire cost, but at least it does pay for a portion of the bill.

When I see people with terrible teeth, I remember the pain I had as a youngster.

We need affordable dental care in this country and we need it for everyone.

A Spiffy Newsletter

Until now, sending out my newsletters to friends and fans has been a chore. My newsletters were rather plain. However, today I decided to try MailChimp. What fun! There are a wide variety of templates offered, lots of colors and fonts. I used the header from my website, plenty of photos of my book covers, and a nice photo of me. My newsletter is now not only informative but gorgeous, exciting, and full of links.

I was able to easily import the email addresses from my computer's address list.

Finally, after a few simple steps I sent the newsletter off. MailChimp keeps track of any emails that bounce, the ones that are opened, and the ones that click through.

The same newsletter email went to Twitter and Facebook with another little click.

Best of all, MailChimp was free.

If you're interested in seeing the newsletter check it out here.

Creativity: A Gift? Or an Aberration?

I love writing stories. It's fun. Watching my characters in action and listening to them talk--in my mind--is usually better than watching movies.

On the other hand, I hate writing query letters and synopses. (That's work.) Writing blurbs is sheer torture.

I love writing letters (longhand) to friends and family.

I have been putting words on paper since I was nine years old. I have not run out of words or stories. I always have something to say. Some people call it a gift. Some think it's egocentric.

Some just think I'm crazy.

There have been many studies done concerning mental illness and creativity. There are some psychologists who are persistent in trying to prove that there is a link between creativity and madness. It is true that there have been an abundance of famous writers who apparently showed signs of mental illness. I found a list here, but there are others. I do not think it's fair or ethical to diagnose someone after they have passed on.

I know a lot of romance writers. I hang out with them. They are very nice, normal people. They simply have vivid imaginations. Children have vivid imaginations, too. Do you remember what it was like to be a child? A child can view a box as a house, or an army tank, or a boat.

Writers are people who have not lost that power. They can create stories out of almost nothing--out of little bits of information that most people ignore.

Writers are special, but not crazy.

At the Monmouth Festival of the Arts Gala

Last Saturday, I was a VIP at the Monmouth Festival of the Arts Gala. As one of the exhibiting artists, I was treated to wine and tempting hors d'oeurves. Hubby was there, too, and took the photos (below) of me and the oil paintings I did which were part of the exhibit.

We both had a great time and enjoyed looking at the work of all the other exhibiting artists. It was an honor to be included in such a renowned display of artwork.

Florida in April

Florida in April is quite agreeable. The temperature is in the eighties.

Hubby and I flew to Florida to see his parents for a few days. I do not enjoy air travel. I hate being pressed into the seat as the plane takes off, and I really can't stand the dropping feeling as the plane comes in for a landing.

I especially do not appreciate any weird mechanical noises in an airplane and bumpy flights are no fun either. Sleeping is impossible on a plane. However, flying to Florida takes less time than driving--despite the hours spent in airport waiting rooms.

Still, it is quite amazing to leave New Jersey wearing a coat and arrive in Florida where everyone is wearing shorts. We went from early April to what felt like June in a few hours, which is really quite a pleasant experience.

I felt like a time traveler. :^)

On the way home, I got a smoother flight and a window seat. I took photos.



When we landed in New Jersey, the temperature was in the forties and it was raining, but I'm glad to be back.

Downsizing

We had to resort to renting a dumpster to clean out the house where I grew up. Yes, there's the loveseat on the left and right on the top is the port-a-potty Mom and Dad used while camping. There's a small bookcase (we never had enough of those), some plywood panels of various sizes, a worn comforter, a rug, and a frame.

Before my mother died, we had an auctioneer take some of the stuff. After Mom died, we had the Salvation Army take some of the furniture. We made countless trips to donate stuff to Goodwill. Up until Dad broke his hip, he constantly filled up the trash cans with extraneous items he knew he would not need in his small apartment. But he moved into that house fifty-six years ago and in the interim, filled it up with lots of happy memories--and plenty of things. Mom was a prolific artist, so we all have the paintings she left behind. However, there was were also Dad's many tools. (Dad wanted to take his circular power saw to the apartment. I nixed that idea.) He a collection of old portable radios, assorted wires, and a host of ancient audio tapes. Too much stuff!

Fortunately, we had help in cleaning out the house. It is just too difficult to toss memories into a dumpster. I did retrieve one thing from the dumpster--but only one. And though the job is done, it is still sad to look at this photo.

I loved growing up at the edge of Treasure Lake by Raritan Bay.

Liberty States Fiction Writers Conference

I had a great time at the Liberty States Fiction Writers Conference today. This was only the second conference run by LSFW, but it was awesome! The workshops were great and there were top-notch editors and agents, too.

I particularly enjoyed the cocktail hour. :^) I had a nice time chatting with other authors.

KISS OF BLARNEY Available for the Kindle Today!

Moving Dad

Dad is now living in a small apartment. We made the big move on Monday, but there are still things in the house that we must either donate, recycle, or throw out. It's going to take quite a while to go through everything.

However, the apartment--furnished with the bare essentials--is comfortable and with the addition of my mother's paintings, it does look homey. Dad will be getting physical therapy for a while and he'll have a home health aide, too. After two and a half months in the hospital, he still has a long way to go in regaining his strength. Nevertheless, his appetite has definitely improved. Daughter #1 made rice pudding on Sunday and Dad had three helpings of it on Monday after dinner.

Tonight we took Dad out for pizza. He only had one slice, but he downed a bottle of stout, too, and he intended to have dessert once he returned to the apartment. Dad has always had room for dessert. :^)

Handouts

There's another writers' conference coming up--the Liberty States Fiction Writers will be gathering to listen to MaryJanice Davidson and a host of other well-known fiction writers who are more than willing to give away their secrets of success.

I plan to be there and I intend to bring along my books in case anyone wants to buy some. I will also bring along my promotional handouts. Lots of writers buy pens to hand out, some buy little sticky notes, or bookmarks.

My handouts are rather simple. I used trifold brochure paper and set Word for three columns. One one side, I put the cover, the blurb, and some other information. Inside I squeeze in an excerpt from the book.




That's the easy part. The trick is to get the other writers at the conference to pick these things up. At the last conference, I attached a Twizzler to each brochure. Every single brochure disappeared from the table.

But my latest book has an Irish theme. What sort of candy should I attach for this one? Peppermint Patties?

Authors' Houses

I like to visit old houses. It's a real treat for me to tour the homes of famous authors. Several years ago, I visited Harriet Beecher Stowe's house in Hartford, Connecticut. It was modest and comfortable. Mark Twain's grand home is next door and it is where he was most productive. Yet, I've seen pictures of the birthplace of Samuel Clemens and that was a two-room cabin.

Here's Louisa May Alcott's family home. I'd love to go there. It is not at all what I envisioned when I first read Little Women.

Here's Edith Wharton's home. She designed it. This is not the type of home I thought the writer of Ethan Frome would have.

Here's Stephen Crane's house. I went there one evening to see an Poe impersonator. It was a Halloween event. Go figure.

Here's Edgar Allen Poe's house in Baltimore. Hubby and I visited it a few years ago. It's really small.

I've visited the House of the Seven Gables in Salem, Massachusetts. I have not visited any southern writers' homes, but I might.

Any ideas for me?

Soon To Be Released!

Available in March from Crescent Moon Press.

When Ula's druidess is kidnapped by the evil Balor, the Irish princess must leave her secret cottage to seek help. And who better to help her locate the druidess than the Irish Wolfhound who just happens to be owned by the handsome man who saves her virtue at a pub?

Shay Devlin wants nothing to do with the beautiful Ula--especially not once he realizes she's out to steal his unruly dog, Bran--but there's no way he and his geise will allow him to turn her out into the snow, alone and unprotected. Too bad everything about the mysterious dog snatcher tempts him to break every rule of his sacred code.

Though their love is forbidden--for prophecy says Ula will marry a man with black eyes and Shay's are blue--they battle the druid who wants not only Ula, but the kingdom she is destined to rule.

Celebrate St. Patrick's Day by downloading Kiss of Blarney.

Novels of Commitment

Despite the perrennial popularity of romance novels (check out the statistics at the Romance Writers of America) there are still many people who denigrate the genre by labeling the books as "trashy," or even worse "formulaic."

While it is true that in some romances there are very explicit sexual scenes--there are also romance novels that contain nothing more than a kiss.

The only formula in a romance novel is the happy ending.

What makes a book a romance is not the level of sensuality, it is the level of commitment.

True love is all about commitment and romance novels are all about true love--the real thing. Sex is usually part of that commitment, but it should not be the only thing in the relationship. Genuine love should involve obedience to the marriage vows--for better or worse, in sickness and in health. That is commitment. That is what everyone longs for in their heart. We all want to be loved by someone--even on our bad days--even when we are no longer beautiful--even when we are old and infirm.

That is why the genre is so popular because in each story, the protagonists realize their love for each other is the forever kind.

I write novels of commitment. Don't label them as trashy, or formulaic. My books are about true love.

Read one. It'll give you a warm feeling in your heart.

Wine and Wi-Fi

My father is still in rehab, but today we learned how to get him in and out of the car. This is a useful skill since he needs to go to two specialists next week. (Of course, it would make life a lot easier for patients if the doctors came to them.)

Time passes slowly in rehab.

Daughter #3 gave her grandfather a white board and each day I list the date on it along with the number of days that have passed since Dad broke his hip. Today Dad added another note. He listed the tentative date of his release as D-Day.

There are programs in rehab to entertain and amuse the patients, but there is only one computer in the lounge. I wheel Dad to the lounge so he can use the computer to check his email and his Facebook page. It would be really nice if everyone had wi-fi in their rooms, but they don't.

Dad thinks there should be wine in rehab, too. I agree--as long as it doesn't interfere with medication. Dad does enjoy the food he is served. However, he complained about the lack of pie. He said there's plenty of ice cream, but no pie. So I brought him a cherry pie one day. He was thrilled.

Subsequently, the rehab kitchen served apple pie a few days later. Dad was delighted. It doesn't take too much to make him happy. :^)

Of course, I bring him the New York Times everyday. That's another perk he loves. I can tell he's feeling better because he has resumed clipping out articles he believes I should read. (Today I also brought him a small pair of scissors.)

But Dad can't wait to get out of rehab. He wants to wear a special outfit on that day so he can put up a new photo on his Facebook page.

Under Siege

2010 was a difficult year for my family. Each of my daughters spent time in the hospital for various, serious ailments. Thankfully, they all took turns. Still, things became complicated when my in-laws went into an assisted living facility and my mother-in-law did not want to sell her house. Then my father-in-law, who had broken his hip the previous year, fractured his pelvis at the beginning of December. Finally, right before Christmas, my father fell and broke his hip.

There have been times during all this chaos when writing became impossible—and it’s not that I didn’t have ideas but there were days when I didn’t have the heart or the time, and many more days when I didn’t have the energy. (I still have a "real" job.) I often felt as if I was under siege—being bombarded by doctors’ acronyms.

So what did I do while the enemy was scaling the walls of the castle? I tried a few ways to keep my mind on writing--even if I wasn't writing. Here are some of my ideas. If you have any to add, please add a comment. I would love to know what works for other writers, too.

1. Remember this won’t last forever or as my father always says, “This, too, shall pass.” In the meantime, I asked for help when I could. I am not Superwoman.

2. I kept a pen and paper handy. I wrote blog ideas. I took notes about what the doctor said. I scribbled down a few in-depth character studies. (There are lots of characters in a hospital.) These might be useful later on.

3. I read The Sea Wolf, by Jack London. That's a far cry from the usual romances I enjoy. However, when Dad wasn’t ready to read or even listen to me read to him, my paraphrased version of the plot held his attention.

4. I re-read my last draft from the beginning and I edited it. It's only 29 pages, but that doesn't matter.

5. I made plans to go to a writers’ conference when the siege is over.

Bestselling Product

According to Amazon, the Kindle is its worldwide bestselling product of all time. You can read about it here. But I know for a fact that it has to be true because my sister got a Kindle for Christmas.

When it comes to books, I've been digesting far more than either of my sisters for a long, long time. Not that they don't read, but I am far more obsessed with words--and in particular with fiction, probably because I believe there is a lot of truth in fiction despite all the disclaimers at the beginning of every book. :^)

I also rarely watch TV. However, both of my sisters have large, flat screen televisions with cable hookups.

I own a Nook, an eBookwise and I read books on my cellphone. But I own plenty of paper books as well and I have a very hard time parting with any of them.

My sister with the Kindle has always been up on the latest fad. She was the first one in our family to buy a microwave oven back when microwave ovens were massive machines. My sister always informs me about the fashion color of the year, the pet of the year, the accessory of the year, or the hairstyle of the year. If my sister owns a Kindle that officially makes it the gadget of the year.

Those of you who don't own a Kindle (or some other ebook reader) are behind the times.

The Blizzard of December 2010

Yes, that is our backyard in the aftermath of the Blizzard of December 2010. Our picnic table is buried in a rather deep drift.

When we walked out of church last Sunday, it was snowing. Everybody in town went immediately to the grocery store, which they do every time the flakes fly. However, this time it turned out to be a good idea. The subsequent blizzard left us stuck at home until Tuesday morning when the plow finally came through. Of course, we spent most of Monday clearing the snow off our cars and digging out the driveway.

Later in the evening we played several rounds of Bananagrams--a great game for word lovers!

Many of the roads are still dangerous. It was a bad storm, but I do believe it should have been treated more aggressively. Nevertheless, it is supposed to be warmer today. Hopefully, a lot of this white stuff will melt.

Happy New Year!

My Latest Ebook Reader

I've been reading ebooks on my trusty old eBookwise ereader and on my Nook. However, I recently purchased a new cellphone because my old cellphone had developed a strange quirk. I could only hear calls on it if I used the speakerphone, which meant everyone else could hear my calls, too.

To replace my old cellphone, I bought Virgin Mobile's Loft. For $25 a month I have unlimited texting and unlimited internet access. I have only 300 hours of talk time, but who needs to talk?

The one thing about this phone that left me a bit unsatisfied was that I could not download an ebook app for it. But with the web at my fingertips, I searched around until I found what I wanted.

At Bookworm I can upload an epub formatted book to the site and then read it on my cellphone. This is awesome!

Being economically minded, for my first book on Bookworm I downloaded a classic because it was free. I read Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton. I had never read it and while it isn't a happy book, Edith Wharton's prose is stunning. I just downloaded The Sea Wolf by Jack London today. I intend to catch up on many of the classics I haven't read.

So if you have a cellphone without an ebook app, try Bookworm and then start reading a few classics. :^)

Workshop!

I will be giving a workshop on December 14, 2010, at 9:30 a.m. at The Fine Grind, 101 Newark Pompton Turnpike (Route 23), Little Falls, NJ 07424 (Phone: 973-837-0199)

The workshop will be a live, in-person version of Creating Atmosphere: The Tone of Your Novel. I presented the talk at the Muse Online Conference in October. So if you didn't make it to the Muse Online Conference, come to Little Falls, have a cup of coffee and listen to my writing wisdom.

I believe every novel should have an overall feel--a tone--that clues the reader into the type of story he or she has chosen. The tone can be funny, or gloomy, or suspenseful. I will use examples from my paranormal romances to show how setting, dialogue, and other story elements create the desired atmosphere for a novel.

You won't want to miss this! Besides, there will be a drawing and someone will win a book. Maybe that someone could be you!

Some Sort of Miracle

I woke up yesterday to find a single daisy flowering in our yard. I decided it had to be a sign of from my mother. Daisies were her favorite flower and are not usually seen blooming at the end of November in New Jersey.

I cooked Thanksgiving dinner--again. The first time I cooked Thanksgiving dinner, I was 19 and my mother was in the hospital with soaring high blood pressure. Up until that point, I had always been my mother’s apprentice. Mom was an exacting cook. Everything had to be done her way. The celery was chopped just so. Mom made stuffing from scratch. The pie crust had to be handled gently so it would be flaky and light. My siblings and I were relegated to certain specific tasks for the annual Thanksgiving feast, but that year, I did it all. Maybe it wasn’t the greatest meal but I enjoyed the sense of accomplishment I found in my own ability to rise to the occasion.

As Mom aged, I took over the role of hosting Thanksgiving every year for the burgeoning clan. Mom always brought yams and pumpkin pies to the feast. With her gone, I made the pumpkin pies and one of my sisters made the yams. My other sister made apples pies and cranberry relish. My daughters are my assistants—though I am by no means as exacting as my mother was. Some things are not worth all the fuss because the fact is that Thanksgiving isn’t about the food. It’s about reconnecting and catching up--long conversations with the people I love. It’s about laughter and the treasured memories that we share—and passing those memories along to the next generation.

Mom isn’t with us anymore—except in spirit, and hers was an indomitable one. As I was whipping the potatoes a wave of sadness washed over me because Mom wasn’t there, but then I thought of the daisy outside. It is difficult to be down when you’ve got your own little miracle occurring right outside the back door.

I gave the daisy to my father at the end of the evening. I’m sure the daisy was meant as much for him as it was for me.

Not Like the Real World

As a fiction writer, I deal in complete lies all wrapped up in one nice, neat package called a book. I make up stories about imaginary people trying to solve imaginary problems in imaginary settings. The trick is that in all my stories, the lies have to "ring true." I can do this because most people who pick up a book voluntarily suspend their disbelief while reading the story. Readers are quite willing to give an author the benefit of the doubt--most of the time, but writers are always warned against using contrived plots, boring dialogue, and flat characters.

Still, there are plenty of very odd coincidences that happen in real life. Remember that kid in school who seemed to be headed for a detention center, but who is now a lawyer with a Mercedes and a trophy wife? If it happens in a book, the author has a lot of explaining to do--and it all has to sound "real."

Though dialogue in a story must seem real, the everyday dialogue we use is hardly as succinct or witty as that in a novel.

The characters in a novel must appear to be flesh and blood. They cannot be flat or cardboard characters--one dimensional. But how many genuinely boring people do you know? The world is populated with millions of them!

In short, a novel is nothing like the ordinary world we live in. It is far, far better. It makes a lot more sense even though it is one big lie.

The real world is often much stranger than fiction.

A Memorable Event in Brooklyn

Hubby and I went to Brooklyn yesterday for hubby's high school reunion. He graduated from St. Augustine's high school, but around 1970 St. Augustine's closed. Afterwards, students went to Bishop Loughlin high school. However, there is a wing of that school with memorabilia from St. Augustine's--statues, stained glass, athletic awards and even a glass case with clothing and the old-fashioned book covers.

Bishop Loughlin high school hosted the reunion and did a great job. Despite a flea market in progress on the school grounds, we were given a parking spot! (Big miracle in that section of Brooklyn.)

Hubby brought an old photo of the high school class trip to Washington, D.C. which he passed around.

There was a Mass--of course. Afterwards, awards were given out to several St. Augustine students who have made remarkable achievements. The reunion itself helps to fund a scholarship program and one young man from Bishop Loughlin high school is going to Annapolis next year.



I enjoyed meeting hubby's former classmates and their spouses. The Christian Brothers taught them well.

Writing Sisters

I have been a member of the New Jersey chapter of the Romance Writers of America since 1988 and I have been to every one of their conferences. There are plenty of workshops offered along with editor and agent appointments, but the best part of the conference is the camaraderie with other authors as well as future authors. They are my writing sisters--they understand what it takes to write a book.

What we all need are more people who will read our books. There's a lot of good stuff between the covers. :^)

Reading will improve your vocabulary, make you smarter AND more interesting.

When was the last time YOU picked up a book and read it? Turn off the television and the internet, sit down, open a book, and savor the words.

You don't have to read the whole thing tonight. Just a chapter. It won't take long. Tomorrow night you can read another chapter.

See what we writers do. We work with words. Using them we can make pictures in your head. It's magic. (Well--sort of.)

So please buy a book today, or borrow one from the library. Your brain will be glad you did.

My Heroines Are Not Me

I have an imagination and I am capable of making up stories. The books I write are fiction--that means they are not true. There are disclaimers at the beginning of each book that attest to the fact that any resemblance of the characters in my books to actual people is coincidence.

My heroines do not lead boring lives. They are caught up in life-threatening dramas. They are young, beautiful, and can eat lots of salty food because they do not have high-blood pressure--yet.

My heroines are not me.

Yes, I write the stories. My attitudes and opinions are there on the pages if anyone is seriously looking for them.

The truth is that I was a wallflower when I was young. Eventually, I left some of my shy nature behind when I grew up, but I was not and have never been a professional chef, scientist, policewoman, park ranger, journalist, farmer, or secretary.

I simply have a vivid imagination. Maybe it's because I've read too many books. Maybe it's because my parents were creative. Maybe it's because I grew up in an era where we didn't have any electronic games and we had to amuse ourselves. Maybe it's because I don't watch television.

Anyhow, it's great fun. It would be wonderful to be young and blond with curly hair, but I can do without the life-threatening drama. I give my heroines such a tough time!

An Old Idea of Recycling Recycled

Back in the old days, when I was young, nothing went to waste. Thread used to come wrapped on wooden spools, but when the thread was used up we would put nails in the wooden spool, wrap yarn around the nails and use an old crochet hook to lift the loops over the nails so we could make horse reins. Never mind that no kid in Cliffwood Beach owned a horse. The activity kept us amused for hours. From that exercise, I developed a fondness for crocheting, but never for knitting. You can find more information on knitting spools here.

Years later, when my own children were young, I found a wooden spool, tapped some nails into it and showed my daughters how to make long knitted reins. Daughter #1 actually saved the knitting spool I made for her which is the one you see above.

Recently, I was cruising around Jo-Ann Fabric with hubby who was looking for a particular glitter paint to match his latest green accordion. On a rack I saw what appeared to be a giant knitting spool made of plastic. According to the instructions on the package, this giant knitting spool could be used to make a hat.

Awesome.

Since it was almost Daughter #1's birthday, I bought the gadget. Daughter #1 opened it on her birthday and began making a hat immediately. Within days, it was finished. Perhaps Daughter #1 can make everyone a hat for Christmas. :^)



It never ceases to amaze me how some old ideas can be transformed into something new and improved. Of course, I want to make a hat, too.

Sea Chanties--Getting the Work Done Cheerily

I am reading Two Years Before the Mast, by Richard Henry Dana, Jr. (You can read the entire book online at http://www.bartleby.com/23/) I'm reading it as reference material for my pirate book. Today I read a section of the book concerning sea chanties. I've always loved sea chanties, but it was interesting to read Dana's comments about them.

The sailor’s songs for capstans and falls are of a peculiar kind, having a chorus at the end of each line. The burden is usually sung, by one alone, and, at the chorus, all hands join in,—and the louder the noise, the better. With us, the chorus seemed almost to raise the decks of the ship, and might be heard at a great distance, ashore. A song is as necessary to sailors as the drum and fife to a soldier. They can’t pull in time, or pull with a will, without it. Many a time, when a thing goes heavy, with one fellow yo-ho-ing, a lively song, like “Heave, to the girls!” “Nancy oh!” “Jack Crosstree,” etc., has put life and strength into every arm. We often found a great difference in the effect of the different songs in driving in the hides. Two or three songs would be tried, one after the other, with no effect;—not an inch could be got upon the tackles—when a new song, struck up, seemed to hit the humor of the moment, and drove the tackles “two blocks” at once. “Heave round hearty!” “Heave round hearty!” “Captain gone ashore!” and the like, might do for common pulls, but in an emergency, when we wanted a heavy, “raise-the-dead” pull, which should start the beams of the ship, there was nothing like “Time for us to go!” “Round the corner,” or “Hurrah! hurrah! my hearty bullies!"

We should all start singing when we really want to get some work done! Here's one song I've always enjoyed.

Music for Turbulent Times

During every turbulent time period in our nation's history there have been songs that brought our citizens together, uplifting them, giving them a rallying cry, and bolstering their faith.

The awesome part is that everyone knew the words and could sing along.

Folk songs motivated my generation during the turbulent sixties. We had great music and terrific musicians who not only sang the songs but went out and marched in the protests.

World War II, the Great Depression, and World War I there were rousing ditties to raise the spirits of our citizens.

There were songs for the unions seeking a better life for oppressed workers--songs that my grandfathers and my father knew.

Our country is going through some tough times right now. I believe we need some new songs, but I write books--not music. I write romances with guaranteed happy endings. That's what romances are all about--the good feeling at the end when it all works out for the characters--even if there's been some tough times--even if there have been tears and frustration--even if the characters lose their jobs and their healthcare. There is hope.

We need positive, uplifting songs right now. Songs with easy melodies, clear simple words, and stimulating choruses. Songs that will give us all a good feeling. Songs that will promote brotherhood. Songs that will put an end to divisiveness.

We need songs to help us work together like one big, happy--if somewhat dysfunctional--family. Joyful songs.

Can somebody please get to work on that?

Suspending My Disbelief

A writer cannot make every reader happy. Occasionally, an author will write something that rubs a reader the wrong way.
I was clipping the hedges the other day when I remembered a scene in a novel I read many years ago where the heroine was also clipping hedges. The book was written by a very well-known novelist who has sold a gazillion books. I had loved the first book of hers that I read--so I got another one. However, in the second one, the heroine's situation annoyed me a bit. To me, it seemed unrealistic. But I come from humble beginnings. What do I know about the lives of the rich and famous? Only what I read in the gossip papers or see on television. Nevertheless, the plot held together and I finished the book.

I bought a third book by the same author. I frowned when I reached the part of the story where the heroine goes outside to clip hedges. It wasn't a long drawn out episode. It was a simple reaction scene which allowed the character to reflect and share her thoughts with the reader.

Unfortunately, the reader happened to be me--a woman who regularly battles bushes and fears that someday the bushes might win. The scene completely shattered my concentration. I just could not believe for one moment that the author had ever held a pair of hedge shears in her hands. Of course, it was entirely possible for the character in the book to be involved with clipping those hedges. But I was not thinking of the character. I was thinking of the author.

It was an unfair reaction on my part, but that's what happened. For me, the experience of reading that particular book was ruined. My response does not mean the author was not a good writer--after all, she's sold a lot of books over the years! For me, she simply happened to hit on a raw nerve.

To read a book, every reader must suspend their disbelief and accept the world within the novel. What happens in the story does not have to be real--otherwise we would not have Harry Potter and Twilight. However, all events should seem plausible given the boundaries established by the author.

I've written stories that could never realistically occur--genuine fantasies with lots of paranormal magical stuff. Tadeusz in The Beast of Blackbirch Manor was cursed by a witch and is going to turn into a wolf on his thirty-third birthday unless he finds a woman who loves him. Evidently, readers are willing to suspend their disbelief in reading that book because it's been very popular.

But Tadeusz isn't clipping any hedges in that novel. He's got gardeners to do that job. :^)

More Cookbooks

I went to another flea market today—a small one at a local park. I bought two cookbooks there despite the fact that I already have a large and varied assortment of cookbooks. However, I couldn’t resist. The first cookbook was the kind put together by a group of people to benefit their organization. Those types of cookbooks I’ve found to have some of the best recipes, ones that are simple but good. I’ve already decided to try one of the recipes this week—Smothered Chicken.

The other cookbook I can justify as a necessary reference book. Daughter #1 spotted it. It is The Victorian Seaside Cookbook, by Anne Bishop and Doris Simpson. It contains authentic recipes of the Victorian era served at hotels along the Jersey shore. It has lots of pictures and even a map of the railroad lines. History is a great deal of fun.

This amazing book contains menus, too. It is truly astounding to read of the quantity and variety of food served at each meal during the Victorian era.

Here I am, in 2010, counting every calorie I put into my mouth. By contrast, the Victorians seem like gluttons. Their breakfasts started with fruit, clam broth, and then a hot cereal. Next came three or four kinds of fish, grilled steaks, lamb chops, liver, and eggs. Following that, they heaped creamed codfish or beef, ham and bacon, several varieties of potatoes, hominy, and fried mush on their plates. In addition, there were griddle cakes with syrup plus hot chocolate, coffee, tea, milk or malted milk.

Reading all that made me groan. When I read about the Victorian dinner, which was far more sumptuous, my tummy started to ache.

Nevertheless, I found some of the recipes to be quite interesting. There’s stuffed tomatoes, a favorite of President Fillmore. There’s also rice pudding, said to be a favorite of President Grant.

Since we are what we eat, I do wonder about those Victorians. They spent a lot of time eating way back when along the Jersey shore.

Road Scholars

In a writer’s life, every experience can lead to an idea for a story. Every new vista can become the setting for another plot. Every person I meet has the possibility of becoming a character or at least having some facet of their personality spark the basis for a character. Going on a different adventure is the best way for me to “fill the well” in my mind in preparation for future books.

This year, hubby and I decided to try an elderhostel vacation. We signed up with Road Scholar. One couple we know had gone on a few trips with the elderhostel and recommended the company to us.

After considerable thought, we chose a tour based in White River Junction, Vermont. Our host was David Briggs of the Hotel Coolidge. We learned about Vermont railroads and small gauge railroads. The tour included a field trip to the top of Mount Washington where we rode the cog railway to the top of the mountain. We also went for a ride on an Amtrak train as well as a ride on the Green Mountain Railroad. In addition, we learned more about the region’s history, humor, and economics.

Other attendees came from as far away as California and Kentucky—though most were from other northeastern states. One woman had been on fifty elderhostel trips. Another on twenty. Hubby and I were the newbies—and I was undoubtedly the youngest in the group.

The price of the tour included all meals. The food was excellent but one of my favorite activities was being able to dine with our fellow travelers and compare life stories. I like to talk, but I am just as happy soaking up conversations and tucking them in the back of my mind. (Some small nugget of information might come in handy when I’m slogging through my plot one night.)

We found the lecturers in the program to be not only knowledgeable but passionate in their love of the subject they taught. Also funny. :^)

We had one afternoon free. Since Dartmouth wasn’t far way, hubby and I checked out the Hood Museum of Art (very nice and FREE!). We also visited Quechee Gorge.

On Thursday night, we were treated to a movie A Man With A Plan produced by a local Vermonter, John O’Brien. I would classify the film as political satire—but it was also funny, cute, and poignant. No violence, no sex, no outrageous special effects—but well worth watching. I bought the DVD.

I took a lot of notes during the lectures and I have a list of recommended books to read.

Will I write a book set in Vermont involving the railroads and White River Junction?

Maybe. I wrote down a few ideas on my Alphasmart as we journeyed home. However, I have to let everything percolate for a while in my mind.

There was one question I forgot to ask while I was in Vermont. There’s also a few details about the town of White River Junction that I need to clarify. My research is not finished yet!

New Old Words

I've been reading The Red Rover by James Fenimore Cooper. I downloaded it from Project Gutenberg last year after I had visited J.F. Cooper's birthplace in Burlington, New Jersey. I had not known until that visit that Cooper had been in the Navy. Years ago, I read The Water Witch, because it was set in the Highlands of New Jersey. However, I did not know about The Pilot and The Red Rover, Cooper's other books with very nautical settings. I've already read The Pilot, but I am now reading The Red Rover. It's a good story (a pirate story!!!) but it goes slowly. Cooper was, like most authors of his time, verbose. He uses a lot more words to get from one point to the other.

The surprising thing is sometimes Cooper's vocabulary--ancient words that are completely out of common usage. I am an avid reader and coming across these little nuggets has had me reaching for the dictionary. The old words are still there, but it makes me sad that they are getting moldy. However, if I use any unfamiliar words in my manuscripts, I could lose readers. Odd words stand out like little red flags and take the reader out of the flow of the story.

Of course, there are always new words popping up in our language. The English language is alive and well and constantly changing. It is so rich and full of nuances that working with it is a joy.

Below are a few words from Cooper's The Red Rover that I looked up at dictionary.com:

habiliment –noun
1.
Usually, habiliments.
a.
clothes or clothing.
b.
clothes as worn in a particular profession, way of life, etc.
2.
habiliments, accouterments or trappings.


Porteous-Porteous, John , d. 1736, British soldier. He was captain of the Edinburgh town guard at the execution (1736) of Andrew Wilson, a smuggler. When the crowd, which was sympathetic to Wilson, rioted, the guard fired into it, killing eight or nine persons. Porteous was tried and sentenced to death, but his execution was postponed. On Sept. 7, 1736, an indignant mob took him from prison and hanged him, a crime for which no one was brought to justice despite the efforts of the government. Incidents of the Porteous riot are used by Sir Walter Scott in The Heart of Midlothian.

picaroon–noun
1.
a rogue, vagabond, thief, or brigand.
2.
a pirate or corsair.
–verb (used without object)
3.
to act or operate as a pirate or brigand.


mantling–noun Heraldry .
a decorative piece of cloth represented as hanging from a torse so as to cover the sides and rear of a helmet and often so as to frame the escutcheon below.


I think everyone should read lots of classic books, which anyone can get for free at Project Gutenberg. It's a great way to learn some new old words. :^)