Tag: scrap-yard

Mindful Monday

I’d saved that a while back, but over the last few days, it really hit home for me as I read the three Martin Walker ebooks that had been waiting on my iPad for a while. I’ve already posted about the other two; this was the third I finished Saturday night:

There’s another in the series coming out in the fall. I’m really looking forward to it.

In the last two novels, Walker scattered a lot of global topics among the mysteries, the denizens of St. Denis, and the food (always the food!). I found these new storylines riveting (and not cumbersome): election interference, countries on the edge of war, the manipulation of public opinion via social media and disinformation, global politics, the rise of tech billionaires, the historical and cultural significance of migration from centuries past. There are many cozy things about the Bruno books, but the books themselves are not cozies. They fall into the same smart writing as Donna Leon and Louise Penny, two others among my favorite writers (with series set in Venice and Quebec, respectively), in which family, friends, and fellowship are always part of the theme but aren’t the full stories of their characters’ lives.

In Walker’s series, Bruno himself seems to be changing, but in all the ways that matter, he’s still the good human he’s always been.

Wikipedia background on Martin Walker: Born in Scotland…Martin Walker was educated at Harrow County School for Boys and Balliol College, Oxford. He lives in the Périgord/Dordogne in Southern France with his wife with whom he has two daughters.

Walker was on the staff of The Guardian from around 1971, working in a variety of positions, including bureau chief in Moscow and the United States, European editor, and assistant editor. Walker resigned in 1999 after 28 years with the newspaper.

Walker joined United Press International (UPI) in 2000. While at UPI he was also an international correspondent. He is now editor-in-chief emeritus of UPI. He also holds a variety of other positions, including senior scholar at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars in Washington, D.C.; senior fellow of the World Policy Institute at The New School in New York; member of the board of directors of the Global Panel Foundation (Berlin, Copenhagen, Prague, Sydney and Toronto). He is also a contributing editor of the Los Angeles Times’s Opinion section and of Europe magazine. Walker also is a regular commentator on CNN, Inside Washington, and NPR.

Writing Wednesday

Kinsmart die cast model of the classic 1953 Cadillac Series 62.

I actually am not writing today, or haven’t so far. I’m mostly outlining on paper, and mentally, a bunch of possible scenes and plot points that will eventually bring the Neverending Saga to a close. And when I write those words–“to a close”–my brain can’t quite conceive of it. It isn’t that I want to drag this out forever, like a nighttime TV drama where characters go through more jobs and marriages and crises in seven seasons than most people will ever experience in their entire lives. (Or, for that matter, a daytime TV drama, where characters die and return to life on a consistent basis, and sometimes they look very different, and sometimes they’ll die again and return looking like their original version. Soap operas are a delight in that way, and I say that sincerely.)

I’ll be happy when all my deserving characters are happy and doing what they should be, and then I’ll leave them alone for a while. If I rewrite the second and third 1990s novels, many of these characters appear again in supporting roles. Plus I have three strong ideas for completely unrelated novels. I have much I can write, but I’m not anywhere near saying goodbye to this group yet.

I do reflect a lot on what I changed from the 1990s versions, and I’m happy with those choices. I provided backstories where there were none. I changed or let go of certain storylines that I never thought I would, but doing so opened up so many better possibilities. There were people who read those 1990s books and said they loved them, and I have no way of knowing if they would love these.

If I were to tell you some of the ways these seven manuscripts I’ve poured my time and heart and effort into for the last seven years have been a means for a few people to criticize, belittle, or disrespect me, you might wonder why I keep going. It’s okay. The books and I are still standing. The people who respect what I do or who love me are still supportive in a range of ways. The others are either no longer a part of my life or if they are, I mostly stopped talking about writing with them (sort of the way most of us avoided talking about politics, religion, or our problematic relatives before it became a thing to share all that over social media–with words and videos–and now we can’t avoid it by moving to the other side of the globe because our phones will deliver it all to us 24/365. My detractors are safe from this rambling commentary since they also don’t read this blog.).

I had a lovely period of time once when things I wrote were published. Maybe I’ll get to experience that again. Maybe not. Publishing didn’t bring me riches or acclaim or the security that I’d always have a writing career. It brought me happiness, a sense of fulfillment, and the understanding that I’m able to follow through and finish things.


Some day, I hope you’ll come along for the ride with the Neverending Saga.

And remember…

Tiny Tuesday!

I guess Tiny Tuesday is a good occasion to offer a decent goodbye to this pencil that’s becoming too short for me to scribble notes to myself without discomfort (arthritis in my fingers). So long, Peewee, and thanks for your service. Notice I’m replacing you with another of your kind because you Ticonderoga Noir No. 2 Pencils are the BEST.

Run to you


The most recent play list: Diana Ross and the Supremes 2-CDs, Anthology. Not really sure why they were in the middle of the “T”s but they have now been relocated correctly in the CD binders. Also listened to the Trio CD from Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt, and Emmylou Harris.


Forthcoming: U2’s Achtung, Baby 1991, and Pop, 1997.
I didn’t lose any U2 albums in the flood. What I had was on cassettes long ago and long gone, including Rattle and Hum, which I’ll likely get again. I must have something in iTunes–Oh, yes! The one everyone with an iTunes account received free in September 2014 before it was released that October, Songs of Innocence. I remember the bitterness from people who aren’t U2 fans having it downloaded into their iTunes without their consent. I also have “Invisible,” the RED edition, in iTunes.

I have no beef with U2. Sometimes I agree with their messages; sometimes I don’t. Some of their music resonates with me, some doesn’t. I used a tear of their sheet music to get a lyric for a painting I did a couple of years ago. Afterward, I was thrilled to remember I have a brother-in-law who loves U2, so I offered, and he gave a home to, the painting. That made me really happy, because I love him and respect what U2 means to him.

I’m making great effort not to amplify what distresses me most in the world. I’m trying to make my little world, including Houndstooth Hall and its writing sanctuary, as well as this blog, places where I feel safe. I can’t always shut down my anxieties and distress over global events, politics, war, and hate. I can only try to manage them. I appreciate the people in my life who understand this isn’t a new struggle for me, but it has been exacerbated by several factors in recent years.

I saw this the other day and it resonated, too. Doing my best.

Below, one of my favorite U2 songs, is supposed to be about a guy who’s fallen in love and is a little overwhelmed by it. But it always makes me think of a message my mother once sent to me through Tom:
“Tell Becky to stop trying to save the world.”