There are 399 Web Log Items in 50 pages and you are on page number 31 |
| Rumblings? |
Just a very quick note. I'm spending Sunday cleaning my bedroom, which entails making me throw out so many magazines that I "might" find time to read. They just pile up, and new ones come in. I think my hoarding goes back to the days when I only got 25 cents out of every paycheck to spend on magazines, and it was so hard to make up my mind which one to buy. Now that I can afford to buy them, I get a lot of free things to read because of my job. I also like to order from catalogs and I must get every catalog there is. They pile up too. Sigh.
Anyway, I changed all the sheets--very slowly, of course with my bum shoulder.
The point I wanted to make today is that there are no rules about style, caps, no-caps, fancy script, good grammar, bad grammar on my website. You can post however you want to. Lots of Internet etiquette was established a long time ago by someone else to suit their whims , so please don't worry about how your messages come in? And please don't chastise one another about such a silly thing as this!
The only thing that I really discourage would be mean-spirited messages or fights! There are plenty of websites to visit where people take delight in fighting all the time, and that's not what this one is about. My webmaster removed pornographic messages and posts from obviously commercial enterprises who "pirate" space on others' websites.
A lot of people who visit the weblog and Guestbook are shy and never post to the whole group; the last thing we want to do is scare them away by making them think there are special rules and techniques they have to learn. Remember, too, that if you have arthritis in your hands--which many readers do--it's more difficult to have to keep hitting the Shift key to change tenses. Some people have vision problems and need to use a very big font. Remember that a lot of people are just plain intimidated by computers period, and they are very tentative. My readers come in all shapes and sizes, all ages (The youngest so far was eight and the oldest 97--and these are just those I've heard from!) We have PhDs, and people who had to leave school in the sixth or eighth grade. We are all different colors, too. And single, married, divorced, widowed. Some of us have strong, confident personalities and some of us are very modest and withdrawn and EVERYONE is welcome.
One thing I have noticed is that so many of you are very good writers who are great at expressing yourselves and who share some really good infomration with the rest of us. I'm learning a lot from you!
Ann
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| Posted by Ann on Sunday, November 20, 2005 at 15:12 |
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| Cooking Secret Alert! |
Saturday Night before Saturday Night Live.
Doggone it. No Keeping Up Appearances tonight because the PBS Channel is having a three hour fund-raiser. I'm watching a Lifetime movie with Jenna Elfman, who I think is a very good actress. Remember "Dharma and Greg?" She has a lot more depth than that.
I finished the book by Carole Radziwill this morning. It's called WHAT REMAINS, and it is a book that was criticized some by the Kennedy clan who try to maintain privacy while being rich and famous. Not easy to do. But this is HER story about marrying Jackie Kennedy's sister Lee's son, Anthony. Carole and Anthony Radizwill were close friends with John Kennedy Jr. and his wife, Carolyn, and this author lost them all within about three weeks. I don't usually cry over a book but this one made me cry. She came from humble roots, married the son of a prince, and immediately faced the long journey of losing him to cancer. She's a very good writer, and tough on herself. One thing she does that is endearing and shows someone who's not trying to sell books by name-dropping. She usually refers to Jackie Kennedy as "Anthony's Aunt," and other famous people by their first names but not their high status. She doesn't invade their privacy, but she tells her story beautifully. This may not be everyone's cup of tea, but for someone like me who loves biographies, it was excellent.
With Thanksgiving only five days away, I am going to reveal to you my secret ingredient for pumpkin pie. Every Thanksgiving, I make about twenty of them, and my sons and their friends tell me I make the best pumpkin pie they ever had. First, I use more Mace than the recipes call for. And THEN, I put in about three or four teaspoons (into a big, big bowl of pumpkin and the milk and eggs and all) of Mapleine--the kind you use to make your own syrup. It really does add a special something. I've made them with powdered milk and they still come out tasting rich. With my right shoulder still kind of "stove in," I may not be up to making twenty pies this year though. Rolling out all that dough uses just the wrong muscles when they are sore.
WORTH MORE DEAD should start showing up within about 10 days. I know that my editor has copies on the way to me, and the offical pub date is December 1. I'm always kind of thrilled when I see the first actual book. I carried THE STRANGER BESIDE ME around with me for a week, just like a new baby, when I saw that first book in print. I think all authors must feel that way.
I have about 250 pages written now on NO REGRETS, ANN RULE'S TRUE CRIME FILES, #11 but it won't be out until a year from now. TOO LATE TO SAY GOODBYE, the hardcover story of Jenn Corbin and Dolly Hearn in Georgia is scheduled for January, 2007. Seems so far away, but years go by faster and faster.
I'll post the Seattle Area signings on the first page of this website in a day or so. I'll be doing a bunch of radio and TV interviews in December, and I can put that schedule on if you would like. Most of it happens in one day--from 5 a.m. Seattle Time to about 2 p.m.
I do know that I will be on Northwest Afternoon on November 28th on KOMO. I think I already mentioned that.
Toonces, the cat, is back from the vet's. 24 hours and $550 later. He didn't have a bacterial bladder infection, but he has crystals in his urine so he has to be on a special diet. He forgave me at once for sending him off to have needles put in him. It's so hard because you can't explain to pets that it's for their own good. He had a slight case of anaphylactic shock to the needle that withdrew the urine from his bladder,a nd they had to give him some emergency measures. Poor Toonces. He says he feels fine now.
Yes, I do talk to almost all the people that I mention in my stories, although sometimes I can get their information when they are on the witness stand during trial. Research is at least a big a part of my writing as the writing part. Then it's a matter of figuring out the way I introduce all the different factions and people. Once I get it going, things seem to fall into place.
On a panel discussion where we all participate on-line, I have done those a lot a few years ago, but someone else set it up. It involves a lot of technical stuff that I don't know how to do. And there has to be a very strong "manager" person who keeps things going in an orderly fashion so that everyone doesn't "talk" at once and everyone gets a chance to speak. If I can't do it before I go to Georgia for the trials, I will try to do it in the early spring when I'm home again. As for that giant "slumber party" for all of us, we might have to hire a stadium!
Time for bed. I'm going to start another biography--not my own, reading somebody elses.
Ann
P.S. Leslie and Donna are working hard on their next books. Donna's on her last chapter, and Leslie's just beginning. |
| Posted by Ann on Saturday, November 19, 2005 at 22:00 |
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| Random Thoughts |
Hi Everyone!
This hasn't been the very best week of my life. Last night, I wrote what I thought was a very interesting post for my blog--and it was LONG. And my computer ate it, lost it, totally ignored it. I'm trying again, but this time I am doing it in regular mail that I will copy later. There is such a hollow feeling to see that the two hours I've spent on a blog entry have disappeared forever into outer space and there is no way--no way--I can get it back. Tonight, I am trying again.
November is kind of a sad month to me. After the warm colors of October (my very favorite month), the winds blow and, overnight, the trees are bare. I won't mention again what those fallen leaves did to me last Sunday, except to say that while the bruises shock me, and I sure won't be in much demand as an exotic dancer anytime soon (No, never!) the pain is moving on. It hardly hurt at all yesterday morning, not until I had one of those days that no one wishes for. By nightfall, it really smarted, hurt all night, and was still there this morning. Hurts right now, in fact--but tomorrow will be better. I am a dedicated optimist.
Anyway, November seems like No-flowers, No-love, No-fun, No-nothing, doesn't it? I'm going to plant daffodils, Dutch Iris, Ornamental Kale, and winter pansies, and I planned to paint all my doors a soft moss green until I found it's too cold for paint to dry. Holiday season is hard on a lot of us. We remember wonderful days with people who aren't here any more. Or some of us remember horrible holidays. I think we all expect to enjoy and participate in Christmas and Thanksgiving the way they are depicted on television commercials and fairy tales ( Forget Scrooge as some of us may resemble him!) Holidays demand so much of us, so much from our families and friends. If you didn't get along with somebody in July, you really can't expect love and kisses in November and December--but we all do. We tend to remember the catastrophes of the holidays, the people who drove off in a huff, those who drank too much and spoke their minds (which may not have been fully in gear), the gifts we planned so carefully that weren't appreciated. Let's face it. It's a difficult time, and I can't think of anyone but children (bless their innocence) who believe in all the wonderful myths. Don't feel bad if you don't feel constantly cheery and kind, and if your Thanksgiving table doesn't look like the cover of Good Housekeeping. Like MAD TV, I would recommend "Lowered Expectations" and all the good stuff that COULD happen will then be a wonderful surprise! Give fewer gifts that you buy, and think of gifts that give of yourself and speak to what the person really wants and needs. Don't even think of emulating Martha Stewart--who may not be all that fun and cozy in person. Think of contributing some pies, money, or time to homeless shelters. Our meals taste a lot better and we all feel better when we know that four of our pumpkin pies are bringing some comfort to people who eat holiday meals in a mission. Invite someone who might be lonely. As I said to a friend last night, "Lonely people can be interesting; you don't have to invite someone who is both lonely AND dull. Only saints do that!"
I think my most memorable Thanksgiving was in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania when my father's football team--Lincoln University--was playing Morgan State University at Temple University Stadium. I think my mom, brother and I were the only white people in the stadium for this traditional all-black conference game. (Yes, my dad taught us that prejudice was WRONG from the moment we were born and he was a wonderful coach who loved his black athletes and was the first coach in America to schedule a game between a black college and a traditionally white college--long before people caught on to the magificent power of black athletes.) I can remember feeling very, very pale--almost anemic in that stadium. It was good for my brother and me to be in the minority, to understand what it was like to be in the minority! After the game was over--and Lincoln University won--we looked for someplace to have Thanksgiving Dinner. We ended up at the only place that was open--a deli. And the only thing left to order was bacon and eggs. And it tasted great. Now, I am the only one left of that wonderful family I grew up with, and I treasure the memory of being with my parents and my brother, eating bacon and eggs instead of turkey. Still, losing them makes it a sad memory, too.
I hope that we will all have a rewarding, fulfilling time between now and January 2nd, but don't demand too much of yourselves or of others. Just love people for who they are, and know they are probably doing the best they can. This is no time to try to reform or change anyone. Or ourselves!
Even with all the troubles of this week--falling down and going Boom and then Boom! again, a lost dog (found, thank goodness), some cases of pneumonia, poor Toonces, the Cat, with a bladder infection, paint that never dried, things that didn't get written despite good intentions, recipes that even the raccoons rejected, three pounds gained, seven bad hair days in a row, a suddenly revealed poop dumpsite that Lucy had hidden discreetly on the dining room rug, and on and on and on, we've had lots of good stuff. Bev's new grandchild is a blessing, indeed. Arielle's dad has a second chance at life, Jerri's hanging in there as a grandmother-mother with more challenges than I could handle, Deb Pignataro survived more poisoning than anyone in America and is here for HER wonderful kids and joing us on this website, Liz is still basically a non-smoker, and things are good. Difficult sometimes--but good.
I realized tonight that we have created a website full of friends. While so many websites are packed with sniping, criticism, flaming comments, whining, bragging, put-downs, etc., this one has attracted so many people who show sincere caring for everyone else.How strange and wonderful that you started responding to a true-crime writers' website and turned the guestbook into a warm, caring, supportive place people can go when there may not be anywhere else they can feel safe and find people who respond to them. Is that remarkable--or am I just sappy? When I go back and think of my real doubts about embarking on a career that was based on writing about peoples' tragedies and how I wondered if I should do that, and then I look at where we are 35 years later, I can see a pattern of what was probably meant to be. We've certainly had our bumpy spots along the way, but we're still here. It's good that we are here in 2005, talking to one another, and helping one another through good and bad times. In January, this guestbook will be a year old--and look how many posts we have!
Yesterday, I had an email that was much like emails I get at the rate of a dozen or so a day--from someone who has a story to tell or wants specific instructions on how to write a book or wants me to collaborate on a book ("SURE TO SELL AT LEAST A MILLION AND BE A MOVIE and we'll let you share in the profits, Ann!") Writing is a job, a very difficult job, that requires years of trial and error and disappointment and usually a regular job at the same time to put groceries on the table. When I get those letters and emails at a time when I'm tired and hungry and grumpy and behind in meeting a deadline, I have to admit that it makes me little grumpy.. Do people think I can just drop everything and tell them how to do what's taken me so many years of study and work to do? In the morning, I don't feel that way. And I berate myself for feeling grumpy. I do try to answer everyone and give them good advice. Yesterday, I sent the best advice I could to a very nice woman with an idea for a bestseller who only needed a writer to make it happen. (Like a car only needs an engine to go?)This goes for the young entrepreneur who also had a tremendous idea that only need a writer to make millions, had not read one sentence of anything I'd written but had heard I was a "creditable writer." So I gathered my thoughts and experience and sent off a "how-to" email that I hoped would truly help to raise the blinds on the real world of writing for a living. And today I thought it might help to post what I said here, too. This woman wrote to thank me today, so I think it did help her get going.
Here is what she wrote to me, in what was not an odd request, but one I see every day.
"I have what at first blush might seem to be an odd question or request. I need some direction.
I have a story to tell. I am not a writer nor do I pretend to be, but it is an interesting and timely tale . . .So, what I am asking for is guidance or direction. How does one go about finding a ghost writer?...One person telling the story to someone with skill and knowledge. You came to mind, knowing you only write true stories, but also knowing that a love story without a dead body, either at the beginning or the end (!) is not really your genre.
Any advice you could give me would be appreciated. Thank you"
Without revealing her identity, here is what I wrote back:
"O.K. Patsy (Not her real name or even close to it),
"I've had one of those horrible days where everything went wrong, but I can see that you have real writing talent. So I want you to pull up your socks and write this story yourself. Ghost writers are almost impossible to find. The good writers are doing their own books. Those who are for hire usually don't know as much as you do about writing. Some are frauds who will take your money, and give nothing back. Some are sincere, but haven't the slightest idea how to sell a book to a publisher. Personally, I don't know a single ghost writer, although there may be some on the Internet. Most of us are writer-writers."
Patsy had a good idea about what was basically a romantic true story. And I gave her the best suggestions I could.
" So here are my guaranteed good advice suggestions, Patsy. Please listen to me.
1. Read several books written by the very successful author of The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks. This sounds to me to be in the genre you are looking for. Study the structure and the characters.
2. Sign up for a course in Creative Writing at a community college or four-year college near you. This will make you write and you will learn a lot.
3. Subscribe to THE WRITER and WRITER'S DIGEST magazines or buy a few to find out about where writers' conferences are held in your area, and then go to one or two. You will meet writers, editors, literary agents.
4. Buy a book called THE COMPLETE IDIOT'S GUIDE TO GETTING PUBLISHED by Sheree Bykofsky (who is my daughter's literary agent.)
5. Write your book. If you only write one page a day, in a year you will have a book-sized manuscript.
YOU believe in this story and I hope you are right. It's not my kind of story, as you already know, and I work seven days a week as it is to meet my own writing deadlines. But YOU can do it!
If you aren't willing to show your faith in this story by tackling it yourself, look in your writing classes or at a writers' conference for a ghost writer. Put an ad in the paper under Help Wanted or in the magazines I mentioned seeking a ghost writer. But sign no contracts or pay any money UNTIL an attorney looks at the ghost writer's demands. Ask about what they have published before!
Writing anything is like spreading your own intestines on paper for people to pick through and criticize, and it's scary. But you have to just jump in and swim. Sorry for my mixed metaphors. Maybe you have something, and maybe you don't but show your belief in it.
O.k. It's 6 p.m. and I haven't had breakfast yet, so you got the straight scoop from me and I am doing to save this email to send it to the six or so people who write to me every day with the same request. Writing is reality. It isn't easy, but it's worth it when you win. I had five years of rejection slips before I sold my first article--for $35.
Go for it!
Ann"
"Patsy" wrote back to me, and thank goodness, she was grateful that I shot from the hip, and she may tackle this story herself. And I say to all of you, if you have a good idea--true or fiction--put your money where your mouth is. Take a chance, and write it. Buy Sheree Bykofski's book (No, I have absolutely NO financial interest in it, but it's good)
Someone asked me about my ex-husband, Bill Rule, whose picture I put in the photo album. I put it there because he fathered my children (except for Bruce, my foster son) and was a big part of my life for 20 years. He died before I ever published a book, and that may have been easier for him in a way than if he was around when I first achieved some success.He had his own dreams of selling his books. But our story is much too private and complicated to even began to address in a weblog entry. I will talk about it when I write my autobiography. Bill was a would-be writer, too, a brilliant man, a wonderful teacher, a champion distance swimmer, and very kind to people who weren't as lucky as the rest of the world. Mine was not a happy marriage, however.
I know I have left out answers, but this should do for tonight. I'm really tired.
Would I be out of line to suggest that we may have covered Bare Essentials on my website enough? I don't want this website guestbook to become an advertising spot for any commercial product. Yes, you bet I hope to let people know about my books, and I surely hope readers will eventually buy them all--but I'm not selling makeup, vitamins, or anything else. There is considerable cost to me to maintain my website pages, and the Bare Essentials company probably has their own website, and when I had insomnia at 4 a.m. this morning, they were right there on my TV with an infomercial, so I don't think they need me to support them. Fair?
It is so cold and foggy tonight. I have to go outside and round up all the critters!
All my best,
Ann
http://www.annrules.com/
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| Posted by Ann on Friday, November 18, 2005 at 19:35 |
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| Major thoughts on an ordinary night |
No, I'm not slipping; I make mistakes like everyone else. I knew full well that Alcatraz was a tourist attraction and not an active prison. I mis-wrote myself when I said that Scott Peterson was there, when I meant San Quentin. (Hey, maybe it would be GOOD to put him in Alcatraz as a tourist attraction?) I swear there are readers out there who exist to pounce upon mistakes, mishaps, and Freudian slips that writers make. And we all do. We count on our proofreaders and copy editors to catch our brain bleeps, but they sometimes fail, too.
Hooray, Bev! We are all so thrilled with your new grandbaby. The world goes on and our beautiful babies, innocent and pure, come to us to remind us that life is, indeed, everlasting. Happy cuddling, and I'll have my fingers crossed for you tomorrow.
The Bart Corbin trial preliminaries are accelerating in Georgia. I'll be heading down there soon. I always try to keep my opinions to myself until after trial, and I will do the same with these trials. So many people are going through hell, though, as the denouement of these bizarre murders evolves. This will be one of my major books of my career, and so tragic. Often, the victims' reputations are smeared in an attempt to make the accused seem less guilty. Please try to keep an open mind, no matter what the press says. I'm racing to finish NO REGRETS before I fly to Georgia. I'll admit the bum shoulder has slowed me down a little, and made me think longingly of afternoon naps--but I haven't given in.
I realize that this group has LAUNCHED now, and is flying by itself out there in the Internet world. Even when I cannot post, you will keep up with each other and I'm glad.
It's cold tonight in Seattle, and that may weaken my resolve to make Lucy sleep out in the Dog-Loo with all its rugs and drapes after she confronted me with a major clean-up this morning. I don't know if she does it deliberately or if she can't help it, but it's awfully hard to clean up multiple dog messes on a new hardwood floor when your right shoulder doesn't work. I spoke to her about it, and she seemed to understand but she no longer has my complete trust! I think she is sorry. I'm not sure she can change. Sigh.
I'm reading what I think is a really good book, although it is not in the True Crime genre. It's WHAT REMAINS by Carolyn (may be wrong first name) Radziwill, the wife of John Kennedy Jr.'s beloved cousin who died of cancer not long after the tragic crash that killed young Kennedy, his wife, and her sister. This isn't basically a "Kennedy" book, but more a very appealing and sad personal memoir. I am drawn, always, to biographies and autobiographies. I may sound morbid--but I'm not-- because I read the obituaries in the Seattle PI every day. I want to know about peoples' lives--their happy times, what their jobs were, their losses, the things they had every right to be proud off. No one is an "ordinary person," and each life fascinates me. My son, Mike, and I sometimes visit really old cemeteries and read the headstones, wondering about who these people were in life? To me, they aren't sad--but those who lived interesting lives before they passed over into Heaven. When you look at photographs of people who lived a hundred years ago, they look like someone who might reside just down the block, don't they?
After all this introspection, I will admit that I'm watching King of Queens as I write my post!
Have a great Thursday, and for all of you who are worrying, sad, and barely coping, know that we are here for you! We all hit those troughs in life where things seem really bleak--but the sun is just around the corner.
All my best,
Ann
www.annrules.com
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| Posted by Ann on Wednesday, November 16, 2005 at 18:54 |
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| Late Thoughts |
Should go to bed--but a few quick answers.
Maureen, at least half of the stories in my Ann Rule's True Crime Files ARE from my earlier days as Andy Stack. Out of the fourteen hundred I have written over the years as "Andy," about 10% were of exceptional interest. I update them and re-write them (hopefully with better writing that I've learned over the years) and use them in the "crime files." Because they ARE my crime files. I add new stories, too. All of the hardcover books are about a single case, a new case. Between the two contracts, I keep pretty busy!
I've been madly doing shoulder rotation exercises so I won't get "frozen shoulder," something I had never heard of before. It hurts to do them, but I'm guessing it would hurt more in the long run if I don't do them. I am being quietly grateful that I skidded north instead of west when I fell on my deck Sunday morning. We're putting in a new deck and there is a big gaping hole and a drop of about 9 feet to the west. So all I fell in was dog poop. Big purple bruises getting darker, but I'm feeling a lot better.
For those of you who find the photo gallery looks weird, wide, and difficult on your computer, my webmaster tells me that it's probably the way your system is configured. We are working to make it so universal that it will show up perfectly on everyone's screen. Usually, if you click on a photo, the caption appears, perfectly centered, beneath it. Most of us are having trouble with the arrow freezing up. When that happens, hit F5 and start over or hit your refresh button. I hope to send Rainey, my WM, a few dozen more photos in the next few days.
Willow and Lucy are very tired, not to mention Beans, Buns, Fluffbutt, and Toonces and ME --so we are all going to bed now.
All my best,
Ann
http://www.annrules.com/ (Oh you know that already, I guess)
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| Posted by Ann on Tuesday, November 15, 2005 at 23:31 |
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| Writing Wounded |
Hi All!
I'm writing a post to see if I am able to type. I did the dumbest thing yesterday--went out on my deck to feed the seagulls, wearing my slippers. (No, the seagulls weren't wearing my slippers--I was.) But I can get away with funky syntax when I'm not writing for publication. :*) Also, I can use exclamation points which are frowned upon by editors in actual manuscripts. See, I did it again.
Anyway, it was raining and the deck was so slimy from wet leaves that it felt like I hit bacon grease. I went airborne without a single thing to grab on to to break my fall. Hit first with my shoulder, and then bounced and landed on my hip--the one where I have an artificial hip. I was so afraid I had popped it out of the socket, but found I was able to get up. All of it hurt a lot, and it got worse as yesterday passed. Miserable night, but it was from the shoulder hurting and not the hip, thank goodness. I couldn't pull the blankets up, pick up a glass of water, get Buns, the cat, off my chest, or get in or out of bed without rolling and using my left arm for leverage. Couldn't even drive to the doc this morning with all that steering required, but I have a wonderful neighbor, Margie, and she took me. Nothing broke, so I must have good bones because I hit really hard. But my rotator cuff is bruised, strained and insulted. I have to do exercises to keep my shoulder from freezing up; it's a good thing I went to the doc because I would have kept my arm still to let it heal. And, look, I can type! Hooray. So I'll be writing away on NO REGRETS this afternoon, a little more slowly due to the pain pills. The worst part of the whole experience, I think, was the nursing assistant who said, "Now, take care of yourself. You're not getting any younger."
Unless you're under forty or so, nobody likes to hear that. We KNOW we're not getting any younger, and why some fool thinks that is going to make us feel better is beyond me. I mentioned to the doc that her assistant could use a refresher course in tact. My mom used to complain that she found young, empty-headed, nurses rude and tactless and I would tell her she was just super-sensitive, but now I know what she meant. Hey, for those of us over 50, it's just fine to joke about it among ourselves--but nobody likes those patronizing remarks; they can ruin a whole day and make you feel like Grandma Moses!
Off of my soapbox now, but I'll bet a lot of you will agree with me?
For the question about how my tram works? Those of us who live along Lake Washington or Puget Sound are basically on the shoreline beneath steep slopes. Unless you have the lungs and muscles of a mountain goat, it's a far piece walking up and down the hills, carrying in groceries, building materials, plants, pets, furniture, EVERYTHING, and carrying out garbage, mail, etc. So most of us have our own individual trams. These would be called funiculars (not sure of spelling) in Europe. They are little cars about 4 feet by 5 feet, and they run on tracks, powered by electricity. Some tracks extend over 400 feet, but mine are about 150 feet from where I park down to my house and writing cabin. The older trams are jerry-built and are grandfathered in, and not nearly as safe as they might be. My first tram was new, but crushed by the second of my mudslides in 1996. I had to wait for about a year and a half to get my new tram built because there are few true experts on hillside trams in America, and there's a long waiting list. There are also about leventy-seven hoops that you have to jump through for the State to be sure the trams are fail-safe and have all kinds of brakes to prevent them from free falling. They are basically raised and lowered by a steel cable that winds and unwinds around a drum and is attached to the car, and controlled by computers. If the doors are opened, the car stops. If the cable should break, the car instantly clamps onto the tracks and stops. The cars can hold about 700 pounds per trip. The only way to bring material in to our houses is on the tram, down a skid road (the way old-timers in Seattle sent logs sliding on mud chutes down the hill to Puget sound), or by sea. (After my mud slide, a barge to carry out the 30 foot high mountain of mud cost me $20,000!)This morning, we brought down lumber for a new deck. (Not me--I can't lift ANYTHING at the moment) but my son, Mike did. Hideabeds, refrigerators, exercycles, mattresses, pianos, all my furniture, etc. have arrived via the tram. On the night Gary Ridgway, the Green River Killer, was arrested, anchor people and film crews from ABC,NBC, and CBS boarded my tram in a pouring rain. Everyone made it safely except for CBS, because, bless them, they overloaded the tram and it stopped 25 feet down the hill. I finally managed to get them moving from the bottom landing, but my nicely combed hair ended up being wet strands in my face, and my TV comments showed a very bedraggled-looking author.
When it snows, the tram doesn't go. And, of course, in a power failure it doesn't go. In a pinch, I can still hike up the hill, although not quite as swiftly as I did 17 years ago when I moved here. :*) "Tramsters" have a little different way of life, but I like it. It affords privacy that you can't beat. I also enjoyed living in a 27 foot trailer, a 400 square foot houseboat, and all kinds of houses and apartments and have always harbored a secret wish to have a writing studio in the retired caboose of a train. (I just don't know if I could find a barge big enough to bring one in here!) I've found that people who live in situations that are a little off the beaten path make very good neighbors who look out for each other. With the exception of one couple, I can count on all of mine--and they can count on me--in any emergency. The exceptions in our neighborhood should never have moved here; they would be much happier in the middle of twenty acres and have feuded with every family who lives close by! I think we have all had neighbors like this wherever we live--unless it IS on twenty acre plots!
And life is too short to fight with your neighbors!
So that's the scoop on trams and, much less so, on neighbors.
I'm loving all of the pet stories! I'm not surprised that there are so many animal lovers who visit here; it's a wonderful group of people, kind, considerate, and caring.
Arielle, please let us know how your dad is doing? Elizabeth, you have shown tremendous self-control as you quit smoking, and don't let a tiny few slips slow you down. 10, 20, 30 years from now and even beyond, you will be so happy that your lungs are pink and healthy and that you can draw them full of good clean air. As hard as it may be now, it will be a hundred times as wonderful to know that you made the right decision in 2005!
I appreciate all of you, and consider that I have hundreds of friends I've never met in person all over America. I hope you feel the same. Right now, my shoulder hurts like blazes, but I know it will get better, and I know I can keep typing.
And the sun is shining in Seattle in November! How would have thought?
Ann |
| Posted by Ann on Monday, November 14, 2005 at 15:02 |
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| P.S. |
Oh, I forgot again. That picture of me standing on the shore of the Green River? Believe it or not, that was taken for Penthouse Magazine! (For an article on serial murder. I offered to take my clothes off, but they hastened to tell me not to!) The person on the bridge is the photographer's assistant. They had him stand up there to look menacing.
It ended up being a really creepy day--dark and foggy and after the photographer dropped off his assistant, he drove me off in the dark on the road next to the Green River, and then turned and said, "How can you be sure I'm really who I said I was?"
For a minute there, I thought I might be alone with a psycho! It turned out he was just a guy with a man sense of humor.
I'm going to look at the picture of the burned house in Bitter Harvest, and see if I see anything reflected in the windows. You know, I think, that I did take a picture of a ghost in David Brown's house in my book, If You REally Loved Me.
Goodnight for now,
Ann |
| Posted by Ann on Saturday, November 12, 2005 at 21:25 |
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| Just Before "Keeping Up Appearances" |
Saturday Night:
Oh what tangled webs we weave when we get involved in a WEBsite where we come to know each other so well. I don't want us ever to slip into the "flaming" posts that used to mark some of the sites I visited when I first discovered the Internet.
On Karen J. She has pretty much burned her bridges on this site, and I see your anger when a couple of you responded to her. When she first started posting, she said she was contemplating suicide--and I can't be sure if that was true or if it was a way to get attention.It pushed my buttons because I lost my brother to suicide. I don't think any of us want her to fail in her life and I still think it's possible that she's fragile enough not to be able to deal with rejection. She still seems not to get it. We're not in junior high anymore. Remember how mean girls could be to each other then? High school wasn't much better. But I don't think anyone wants to accept Karen back as if nothing happened. I believe that the amount donated to help her because she was "dying of cancer" ended up being more than $1500, and a lot of it came from those of you where it was a sacrifice. Karen has to learn that when you cry "Wolf!" too many times, people don't believe in you anymore. We all need attention and approval, and Karen seems to need more than most. And I would bet that many of you--and me--have had really humiliating, sad, lonesome, anxiety-causing, frightening, poverty-stricken, experiences not unlike her own. But we didn't lie or take advantage of other people. There are a lot of websites,and I hope she finds others where she can start out fresh, tell the truth, and find real friends who can trust her. It's just that we can't trust her any longer, and that's sad--but it's true. I don't think anyone needs to tell her off, but she won't get our attention and it's because she lied to us and we went out of our way, our own comfort zones, to try to help her. And I worried alot about her and felt so sad for her. At the end, I began to suspect her stories because they just didn't match. So I'm asking you please not to tell her off. She will go away on her own, I'm sure. And, God willing, find an honorable way to make friends.The saddest thing of all is that she could have had friends--as we all do here--without making up big stories.
Elizabeth, I was horrified by the rabbit story, too. The thing is that most of us on here are real animal lovers, and can't bear for anything to be in pain. In nature, it is dog eat dog, and there's a circle of life--and death--but your anecdote hit me right in the stomach. I had a pet snake once--only a garter snake. I got him to eat chicken livers and he seemed quite happy with that or I couldn't have kept him. I have gotten to the point where I do swat flies, but when my cats catch a mouse and it's alive, I rush in and rescue it and place it outside so it can have a long headstart on my cats. I can't even fish because I feel sorry for the worms, not to mention the fish. Too much empathy,perhaps. So we love Liz and we're so proud of her for quitting smoking, but we would ask her not to tell us any more awful stories. I know that such things exist, but I try not to have to think about them. Can't watch the animal channel or pet rescue shows. I can deal with people's ER shows, but not animals.
The above may sound weird coming from a person who writes about murder, but I try to give the victims a voice and find ways to stop the killers before they ever grow up to be monsters. I try to tell just enough about the actual crimes that the reader will know what happened--but not to dwell on it, or use photographs that might hurt the families.
Enough of all that. I was just watching a show on TLC Channel where people buy houses and make fun of the former owners as they redecorate. I don't know the name of the show, but, tonight, they had three couples. The blond woman in the second house was really sarcastic. I didn't like her at all. Making fun of other people's home decorating seems mean to me--especially because they bring the former owners back to show them how they've wiped out every vestige of what THEY had thought was nice. Everyone has different taste. I have a dollhouses and a miniature town in my house that I'm sure some people think looks silly. But I like my little town, and I change the trees when the season changes, and put out Halloween and Christmas decorations. My smaller grandchildren think it's all fascinating. And then I've got my very large collection of antique bottles, some dug and some purchased.
It was truly exciting to hit a million visitors on my website. And we've had almost 130,000 on the Guestbook. Whatever did we do before the Internet?
It's sure cold tonight, and all my kitties line up to run in the moment the door is open. The same kitties who INSISTED they wanted to go out soon change their minds. The few wan petunias that are left don't seem to have much oomph anymore. I know it's no use to save them. There will be more next year. I have a feeling that we will have a basically warm winter, though, so I'm going to gamble with some of my geraniums. I just hope we don't get one of those surprise zero degree January snowstorms that creep in to Seattle every few years while I'm in Georgia.
Did I already tell you that I have to have a new roof? That was a nasty surprise, coming on the heels of needing a new deck. Just have to keep on writing!!!
Bev, we are all pulling for you. You're going to be among those 3% of patients who beat your nasty disease, and you and I will have lunch when I get to Georgia.
Have to go. Keeping Up Appearances has just started, and I do love to see Hyacinth's pomposity and complete lack of understanding of anyone else's needs? On TV, it seems funny. In real life, it's not so much.
All my best,
Ann |
| Posted by Ann on Saturday, November 12, 2005 at 21:16 |
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