Village Life in the Winter

Since we have not yet made our annual sojourn to Florida, we have had plenty of opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with winter life in upstate New York. We have added new cold weather clothes to our wardrobes and dug out some things we had questioned whether we would ever need again, like ski gloves. Good thing. The cold has taken a bit of getting used to what with our being so accustomed to warm weather year around.

While some days are dark and dreary—it’s often cloudy, and the sun sets an hour earlier here than in Florida—winter skies can be gorgeous, not only with brilliant colors but with the contrasting shapes of bare limbed trees silhouetted against the evening sky.  My walks through the woods have been fun as well. I caught glimpses of Canada geese on the pond nearby until it became almost completely frozen over. Then they left. It was kind of sad when I no longer heard their honking calls, but I could understand their need to go south. The main pleasure has come from day after day of light snow on the ground, enabling me to track small animals as well as whitetail deer. Squirrels and voles have created runs on their daily forays. I’ve also been able to track a gray fox.

Tracking animals can be as exciting as glimpsing the animals themselves. Sometimes more so. Tracking their movements is like solving a puzzle, looking for the next piece needed to fill in a complete picture of what they have been up to, undisturbed by my presence.

Of course, after spending a couple of hours in the freezing cold, there’s nothing like cup of hot tea or cocoa to put a warm cap on the afternoon’s explorations. Sitting out back and watching the birds, and sometimes an alligator, down south is certainly enjoyable and another way to relish a good cuppa, but coming in from the cold to a hot drink is its own special pleasure.

Naturally, our wintry stay has stirred thoughts about how Bobby Navarro would take on the winter season. Knowing how Bobby loves to get out on an open road in the southwest where he can see from one horizon to the other, I have to ask myself how he would respond to these days of darkness and cold. I think the answer is likely that he would get outside as often as he could. He is an outdoor guy. He would enjoy filling his lungs with the crisp freshness of the winter air. I suspect he would thrill to the feel of freezing wind against his face just as he loves the rush of wind off the high desert when he’s on his Harley.

So, am I going to put Bobby in a wintry situation in an upcoming novel? I’ve been asking myself that very question. Any thoughts?

Hot Cocoa and a Snowy Day

There’s nothing like a mug of hot cocoa on winter’s day. Lesley dug out some marshmallows that were left over from a camping trip with my son’s last spring to add to the treat. I had forgotten how well they topped off a hot cup of cocoa. Tasty and fun. It took me back more years than I want to acknowledge to when I was a kid in California. Then, it was hot chocolate made with milk heated in a pot over the gas burner of our stove. (That was before we moved to the hills and reverted to using a wood stove.) Hot chocolate. It was  also the best accompaniment to a grilled cheese sandwich ever. That, along with a cup of tomato soup, was a real lunch treat for my sister and me. You know, it still sounds good. I still love grilled cheese. Come to think of it, I haven’t had tomato soup in years . I don’t even know if I like it anymore, but it sounds good.

When we moved from Oakland to the northern California hills, I got my first taste of snow.  Literally. We were coming home from school, and the bus couldn’t make it all the way. Stranded in the snow. We had to walk about four and a half miles to get home. Mom was waiting for us, worried but thankful to have us there safe. After getting us dried off and thawed out, she made something she called “snow cream”, a cup of snow mixed with canned milk and maple syrup. We thought it was terrific, but then, we were kids. These days, I’m sure I would prefer French Vanilla ice cream or frozen custard.

We didn’t have snow often where we lived, just occasionally. Most of the winter, it was  just cold. For college, I moved back to the bay area, but I got a refresher course in winter snow when I was in the navy and in New Port, Rhode Island. I remember going to a Christmas midnight mass during a snowstorm. Everyone was heavily bundled, and you could see your breath when you talked. Several inches of snow made everything feel like living in a Currier and Ives scene. That night still stands out as a special Christmas experience.

On another occasion, I was at a donut shop in New Port. Several kids sat at the other end of the counter, enjoying donuts and hot cocoa. One of them wasn’t taking part in the eating and drinking. A portly beat cop demanded in a loud voice to know why that one wasn’t having anything. He said he wasn’t hungry and didn’t want anything. One of the other kids said it was because he didn’t have any money. The cop, in the same loud voice, told the wait person to give the kid a hot cocoa and whatever kind of donuts he wanted. The young boy tried to turn down the offer, but the cop told him he would either “. . .eat it or wear it”. Some police officers know the street–and care. They can be great. I think some are still out there.

I like to think Bobby Navarro would be the kind of guy who would notice a young boy in a group of kids doing without in order to at least be a part of the group. I don’t think such a boy would turn down a command to accept a couple of donuts and mug of hot cocoa from a biker like Bobby either.

Funny how something like a mug of hot cocoa can stir memories of cold days past. How about you?

 

Warm Winter Thoughts

We received a good eight inches of the white stuff outside the other day, and it seems to be lasting. The forecast is snow off-and-on for the foreseeable future, and it’s snowing outside as I write this blog. Lesley keeps mentioning that we made a mistake in delaying our trek south. Since we’d rather not have to drive through snow, especially through Pennsylvania, we keep trying to look ahead for a break in the weather, but we haven’t noticed anything encouraging. She doesn’t care for the cold weather. Even one of our cats seems to be spending his time on an upstairs bed looking out a window at the whitened landscape as though he feels trapped inside. We’ve been trying to tell him as an indoor cat he is always trapped inside, but he seems to feel this is different.

In a way, I’ve been trapped inside too–by projects like making a plumbing repair in the basement. And, my forays outside have had mainly to do with shoveling snow. It’s been years since I’ve done that. Good thing we kept a snow shovel. After these “outings” I’ve opted for a mug of hot chocolate rather than finding out if I still remember how to ski. I keep putting that moment off until my indoor obligations are tended to.

Not complaining, mind you. It’s been great weather for hearty seafood chowder, bean soup, and other comfort- food-and-drink appropriate to the season. I’ve always loved fall and winter as seasons for baking and roasting. Root vegetables have taken over the daily indulgence in sautéed kale, steamed pole beans, and fresh salads. I guess Lesley is right, I tend to think with my stomach. Not surprising that I put my series protagonist, Bobby Navarro, on a cattle ranch in the southwest learning how to cook like a sourdough in his debut novel. The other day I read over a notebook I had kept on some earlier cross-country rides of my own to do research for that book. It was impressive reliving some of the rides I encountered on those trips. A lot of rough weather and difficult driving conditions, but great encounters with interesting people, too.

Well, people say you should write what you know. I also think you should write what you love, what you have a passion for. Presumably, that passion spills over into your writing, inspires your imagination and drives your work. No, that doesn’t mean I have a passion for murder, but I do have tireless fascination with people. Like other writers, I’m an incurable people-watcher. So is Bobby. It’s one of the things he loves about being on the road. Another is being in the outdoors, and simply being on the road itself.

Speaking of the outdoors, I’ve been loving the snow in spite of the need for shoveling. I have managed to get out a few times for extended walks, and I might dig out those old cross-country skis yet. In the meantime, Bobby’s latest adventure has been formatted for publication, and I’m looking forward to seeing Murder in Key Largo finally make its way into print. How is the onset of the season affecting you?

At the Start of the Storm

Magical Beans

I learned early in life that a beanstalk might grow up into the sky, into the land of giants. I never did understand why giants would live up in the sky, their being so big and heavy and all. Of course, I’m talking about Jack and his magical beans. As it turns out, his exploit was the only one I recall having turned out that way, although our experience seemed to be headed in that direction for a while.

Last summer we tried growing pole beans. I don’t have any previous experience growing them, so I was anxious to see how they would turn out. The woman who provided us the beans to start with was at a local nursery. She had run out of pole beans to sell but gave me a few from her own store, warning me that they would grow to a considerable height. Sound ominous yet?

We happily planted the beans and I built a framework to provide a trellis for the vines to grow on. It was around eight feet in height, so I figured that would be plenty tall enough. Amazingly, the beanstalks grew even beyond the top of the framework. The beans they produced were delicious, and we both agreed to give them another try this year.

Again, there were no beans available at the stores and nurseries in the area, but a neighbor gave us a few beans she had on hand. Do you see a possible pattern here? We planted the beans and waited in anticipation. They certainly grew well in terms of climbing the trellising I had built. However, it seemed to take a long time for them to produce any blossoms, let alone beans. Lesley gave up on them, but I held onto my belief they would do something eventually. And, eventually they did.

I thought the beans delicious, although Lesley said they tasted strange.  Undeterred, I  ate them along with fresh kale we had grown as well. As before, the stalks grew beyond the top of the trellis and proved quite fruitful. I finally let them mature to the point where the beans inside the pods could develop then dry on the vine. I shelled the dried pods and was impressed to find the yield nearly three pounds of beans from the few stalks we had planted. 

I was intrigued by the way the beans adsorbed the pod inside which they were attached from their vegetable umbilical cords, or umbilical threads, and grew into miniature  nutrient storehouses. It was like discovering the magic of food production all over again. I had tended our vegetable garden when I was a kid and delighted in the tastes of carrots and radishes and tomatoes picked and eaten on the spot. For most of my adult life however I have looked to grocery isles in the local supermarket as the source of fresh produce. It has been a treat to rediscover growing some of our own.

From what I read in the news, a lot of people are returning to locally grown produce and planting gardens all over the country. I hope others enjoy the sense of magic through this experience as I did. Of course, I had to ask myself whether my protagonist, Bobby Navarro, would have any gardening experience in his life. For the most part, I think the enjoyment and magic of a vegetable garden would not be practical for Bobby. He spends too much of his time on the road. But, that’s important too. Sometimes our characters are defined by things they don’t have, or do, as well as the things they do. When I was pitching my first book to an editor at a conference, I said, “Looking for a home is what keeps him on the road”. She made me stop and write that down. She said it  was a compelling description of Bobby’s character, defining him by something missing in his life. 

I wouldn’t say not having a garden makes one’s life incomplete, but having one can help enrich it. How about you? Is gardening a part of what makes your life good? Remember, there might be some magic in those beans.

Picking Those Magic Beans

On a Rainy Day

It’s snowing today. Just showers, but snow nevertheless. Naturally, conversations with others are focused on the weather. The other day, I was sitting in the dentist’s office and overheard two people talking about the weather. Outside, it was rainy and cold, and one of the people said she liked rainy days. Her comment reminded me of a coworker in Los Angeles many years ago. She was from Portland, Oregon, a city with a reputation for considerable rainfall. My coworker’s approach was that you just dress for the rain and do what you want to do anyway.

The second person in the dentist’s office said she didn’t like rain, but she loved days that were windy, not hurricane windy, but with winds that were strong. Her comment made me stop and think as well. When I was growing up in northern California, I lived on a farm and always seemed to have reason to be outside, no matter the weather. I loved storm winds and remember clouds scudding across the moonlit sky, carried by strong winds. It was exciting, so much so I didn’t mind the pelting raindrops on my face, the cold, or the buffeting force of the wind against my body. I was skinny in those days, so maybe I should have feared being blown away. I didn’t, though.

When I lived in the Los Angeles area as an adult, I recall going out on the pier at night during the winter and embracing the winds off the ocean. I had crossed that ocean more than once while in the navy. I still thrilled to the excitement of faraway places those winds seemed to promise. I do today.

Of course, not all weather conjures up thoughts of adventure. Cold, wet and rainy days summon images of coffee shops, warm fires and a good book as well. Blustery, cold days stir thoughts of soups and stews, fresh baked bread, and hot, homemade pies in any cook’s heart, don’t you agree?

My series protagonist, Bobby Navarro, must have some of my love of winds and weather when he’s not actually on the road and exposed to the elements on his Harley. I think his enjoyment of cooking must include a repertoire of favorite dishes to match the weather like many of us as well. So, I assume rainy days carry a litany of images and memories for Bobby as well as me. How about you? Is the first snowfall exciting? Does a rainy fall day make you want to curl up with a good book, get something baking in the oven, or dress for the occasion and go outside?

 

Empathy-a powerful tool for writers

Empathy—a powerful tool for writers

Empathy—the ability to feel another’s perspective. It’s a fascinating subject. Empathy can provide a useful tool for survival, such as improving one’s ability to anticipate the moves of an adversary or envisioning the likely response of an opponent to one’s own actions. We see this portrayed in stories of hostage situations in which a victim is able to thwart an armed attacker by getting into their head and appealing to base emotions.

I suppose empathy can be weaponized. I think that is the basis of psychological warfare. Empathetic understanding can be associated with criminal profiling. But, using empathetic understanding for better communication and fostering of improved social relations has greater appeal to me. Empathy can bring insights into the behavior of colleagues, family and friends. It can help one understand the actions and motives of others. I remember my mother talking with a young boy who was jabbing a stick into the earth alongside a shallow ditch. He revealed that he was unhappy in his family’s recent move “to a place where a kid can’t even dig a hole without getting in trouble.”

 Empathetic understanding can be especially important to writers. It can help a writer to understand the feelings and motives of a villain, providing for a more interesting and believable bad guy. This is particularly important as mystery novels increasingly emphasize character complexity. Since a writer must depict a whole cast of characters, good empathetic understanding enriches our portrayal of characters in addition to the villain.

Empathetic skill is important to the writer while conducting research for a novel. It’s not enough to learn about facts and events we want to use in a novel, we need to gain and portray the way people we are writing about, or who have inspired our writing, felt when they did what we want to write about. Those feelings must so permeate our understanding of the people we write about that attitudes and motives will come through in how our fictional characters talk, act, and interact. Their feelings must be more than an analytic deduction, they must be ingrained by the writer and infuse the writing.

Admittedly, some people are simply more empathetic than others. But, can empathy be developed as a skill? I think so. As with most things, practice leads to perfection. We can ask ourselves how people we observe, or study must feel about something. We can consciously ask ourselves what our friends and colleagues seem to feel as we interact with them in a host of differing situations. As we people-watch, and I suspect most writers are people-watchers, we can seek glimmers of empathetic understanding of the behaviors we observe and not simply listen to dialogue or look for amusing situations and characters. I think empathy can be one focus of attention, and that we can improve our ability to employ it with conscious practice.

I don’t portray Bobby Navarro, my series protagonist, as being particularly empathetic. He’s a biker, a blaster, and a loner. But, he’s a people-watcher. And, he solves murders because he cares about people, especially the young and vulnerable. He was able to understand the feelings of a young woman who was a bit of a marginalized individual in Murder on the Mother Road and gain important information leading to solving the murder in that story. Perhaps there’s a little empathetic capability in most of us. It just needs to be developed. What do you think?

The Magic of Unscheduled Events

Summer is coming to an end. A woman ahead of me in the checkout lane was buying a young girl crayons and other school supplies at the drugstore the other day. Labor Day is almost here, when people will be hitting the road for the last big trip of the summer. There is a sense of urgency in the air to take advantage of the time left while it is still available.

 Nevertheless, I can’t help but think about times I have encountered memorable discoveries on my own road trips. They were usually unplanned, unexpected. A restaurant a few miles off the interstate traveling through the Midwest turned out to be a gathering place for local farmers and had the best sticky buns I’ve ever eaten. A barbecue place in Texas we gratefully dined at when a breakdown forced us off the road offered terrific meat, slow-cooked and smoked Texas style.

Not all of my memories are about food. A small town with about twenty-seven residents once became a surprise step back into history for me as the old west buildings quietly disclosed hints of a bygone era. A sudden snow storm resulted in an unplanned stay atop a Hopi mesa. Magical moments. Treasured ‘mages from the road. These things can’t be planned, they’re discovered. But, you can be open to their occurrence and take time to appreciate them when they appear. I’m not sure they’re as likely to happen when you have a schedule packed with all the places and activities you intend to encounter.

When I started making cross-country runs by motorcycle, I sometimes waited until the day of departure to choose the route. Actually, I was watching the weather and letting that determine the best way to go. Similarly, I had only a general idea of where I might end up at night. Again, the weather would be a factor, along with traffic conditions and my own energy or fatigue. Rather than uncertainty, it yielded a sense of adventure and a need to explore, and appreciate, what came along. I loved it.

I think life if a little like that as well. It’s good to have a plan, but often the things most remembered, and sometimes the big determinants, occur unexpectedly along the way. And, when I think about writing, the fun aspect is discovering the story as it unfolds. You may work from an outline, but there may well be twists and turns and new thoughts as the writing proceeds. To me, it seems like an adventure. I think the end story is probably better when if it is allowed to evolve and grow a bit.

I can’t imagine my series protagonist, Bobby Navarro, pre-planning the details of one of his road trips or adventures. It would be useless if he did, given the tendency for murder to interrupt his travels and take over his attention. But, that’s who he is. He wouldn’t be Bobby Navarro if he said he couldn’t take time to solve a murder calling for his attention. 

What about you? How do you like to travel best, and are your fondest memories of things planned or do they include the magic of unscheduled events?

Driving Down a Country Road

 

 

County Fair Time

This past weekend brought the county fair to our neighborhood. Local farmers started bringing in livestock several days in advance of the opening, along with numerous food vendors. The carnival company trucked its equipment in late at night just before opening day. Watching the traffic build on the street that runs past our house was like a preview of things to come, with an increasing tempo leading up to fair day and the sudden appearance of fairgoers taking advantage of the seasonal highlight. Of course, the big question as opening day approached, was what the weather would be like. This year, it was hot and humid, but not rainy for most of the fair, although we’ve had almost nothing but rain since.

Because we live close to the fairground, we were able to sit on our deck and look down the stream to enjoy the fireworks display the first night of the fair. As always, it was an impressive display. Of course, we also had to pay our visit to the fair itself and walk around the grounds looking at the animals, exhibits, and crowds. It’s an annual must-do for us. This year we were strict in watching our diets and gave up the fair food indulgences in favor of our own cooking. That wasn’t easy. County fairs mean cotton candy, barbecue, and fried dough, and much more. But we were good. Since we’ve been enjoying fresh vegetables from our garden and our local Amish stand so much, it was not all that big of a sacrifice. Holding off on indulging in the ice cream available down the street in the other direction has presented a bigger challenge. I love ice cream. County fairs bring up childhood memories for both Lesley and me. They’re one of the joys of summer.

Our frequent drives through the hills around the area have provided another pleasure, watching the seasonal tableau change. The corn is now high, with brown spikes adorning their tops, a declaration of maturity. Rows of rolled up hay line cut fields, most of them wrapped in plastic to protect against weather. In the untilled areas, several ‘crops’ of wildflowers have bloomed. Splashes of goldenrod and roadside boarder strips of white topped Queen Ann’s lace have replaced views of meadows filled with dandelions earlier in the year. Brown spikes of curly dock provide occasional accents, along with a stalk of mullein here and there. Soon, fields will be muted in dusky shades of late summer, and grasses will turn brown. Right now, everything is still green, from all the rain we’ve been getting although tree leaves are a couple of shades lighter. We feel lucky not to be dealing with the wildfires of the west.

When I first came east, the lush green everywhere overwhelmed me. I felt claustrophobic. Now, I see it as a seasonal state. I’ve also become more aware of the many subtle changes in the landscape as the seasons progress and love to observe them. I think living in the countryside has made that possible. The fields, forest plots and farms offer a much richer and closer connection to the environment. It’s an advantage of village life and country living I treasure.

Now, I must push through the final stages of publication of my latest Bobby Navarro mystery so I can get to work on the next adventure, and the next setting. I’ve gotten behind. I’ll blame it on the weather. Of course, there’s always work to be done on the cottage. That’s been held up by the weather as well. Not complaining, mind you. I love summer. How about you? What does summer mean in your life? What changes in the seasons do you watch for, and enjoy?

 

Technology Today

This week I’m running behind schedule on most things, my blog included. I’ve been working on replacing the siding on our house. That means hammer and pry-bar, dozens of nails and bag after bag of debris—not to mention Ibuprofen at the end of the day. Definitely a low-tech operation. That part, I like. I have problems with technological innovations that keep offering to help me do whatever it is I’m doing when I’m on my computer. I have one on my bank app that doesn’t seem willing to concede defeat when I tell it to go away, and one that pops up on my computer when I start up that seems to think I need to install a program I’ve long been using.

I find these ‘helping hands’ an annoyance. I didn’t ask for their help, or their appearance. I don’t feel comfortable with the thought of using them or trying to. And, it doesn’t help when I’m told even a nine-year old can figure it out. I don’t want a nine-year old running my life or having more control over it than I do. One reason I don’t trust these pop-up helper appearances is they want permission to use information from all sources on my computer or phone. I don’t believe they have my best interests at heart. Come to think of it, I don’t think they have a heart.

I concede that there are great advantages to enjoy from the use of modern technology, but they come at the tacit acceptance of disadvantages as well. The trouble with technology, is that it gets ahead of us. Especially those of us who have learned a few things since we were nine-year olds. Like reading a map, writing a memo or note. Or letter. Some of us think we can handle our own organization of documents and photos. We can even organize our own thoughts and put them into a novel of our own creation.

Speaking of novels, I can’t picture my series protagonist, Bobby Navarro, embracing some of this technology either. He rides a Harley across country to relax and enjoy life. He camps out and cooks real food over a fire. Sometimes he stops off at a burger joint for lunch because he feels hungry and sees a place that’s handy. He doesn’t try to find a particular dining experience on the internet and then follow his device to the suggested location. That’s one of the many things I find interesting and reassuring about Bobby. He can do things for himself. Sometimes he gets stubborn in that regard, like when he is solving a murder. I’m glad he does. And, none of his intelligence is artificial. How’s your relationship with modern technology going these days?

Writers and Weather

Weather is such a variable factor here in upstate New York. People joke about it. Many complain when it changes, bringing a threat of thunderstorms or whatever. Oddly, its one of the things I enjoy here. Not always, but overall. I had to run an errand in a town about twenty miles from where we live, so I took the Mustang and drove with the top down. Gorgeous drive. Farmers are plowing for corn, creating a checkerboard pattern of different colors and shades across the hills and valleys. Trees have leafed-out with lights shades of green contrasting with the darker stands of conifers here and there. Wildflowers are blooming. Yellow buttercups and lavender flowers looking like small pansies are clumped along fencerows and roadsides. Overhead, the sky was blue with white puffs of cloud providing dramatic accents. Horses grazed knee-high in grass and wildflowers, and herds of Holsteins occupied themselves with the rich spring grazing. Some farmers had already taken a cut of hay, and the big circular bales dotted freshly mowed fields. After the drive, we sat on the deck overlooking our own backyard and trout stream. What could be better?

Next morning brought complete change. The temperature was still warm, but not pleasant. Humidity was up, and the sky was heavily overcast and threatening. It remained that way all day. We’re still waiting for the rain, which we can use at this point. I need to water the plants in our vegetable garden. I don’t want them to wilt. And, instead of feeling uplifted by glorious spring weather, there has been a sense of impending problem or crisis of some sort. Easy to become anxious and turn one’s thoughts to all the things that could go wrong. Weather changes can do that to a person.

I’ve experienced a lot of adverse weather on the numerous motorcycle trips I’ve made across country. When you’re on the open road, you are exposed. No way around it. Sometimes, there is little you can do about it except try to survive the ride and whatever it brings. I’ve tried to bring that aspect of riding to my stories of Bobby Navarro. It’s part of riding a motorcycle, especially when you take the long ride. Later, it makes for an adventure you relate to others. At the time, endure the ride as best you can. But capturing the weather seems important to telling the story the way it should be told.

Weather can be a handy tool for a writer. Bringing in the weather can help set the mood for a story (aside from the clichéd It was a dark and stormy night). Shifting the weather from pleasant to threatening can help build tension and suspense. It can even dramatize the personality of a character. Think about a character walking down a seaside path, enjoying the sun, or not running from a sudden shower. Weather can also be used to convey a character’s emotions, something I find challenging. Like a lot of men, I learned more growing up about holding back emotions than I did about acknowledging and describing them. A timely comment about the weather helps me convey something about Bobby Navarro and what he’s feeling and experiencing.

What are your thoughts about weather? Do you enjoy an occasional storm, or cloudy/misty day? I’m going to assume everyone likes a sunny day, especially with a bunny in the grass.