A Week Without Blogging

Posted on April 14, 2008 by Dana

Oh, the shame of it! The stain upon my honor will never be washed from the fabric of the laundry of life. Nay, there is not enough spiritual spot remover to expunge the…the…er…well…

Never mind.
I didn’t write any posts last week. At this rate, it will be time for Left Coast Crime 2009 by the time I finish my series of posts about Left Coast Crime 2008.

Nah.

Last week was one of those ‘got a social event every friggin’ night except Tuesday night’ type of weeks. And Tuesday night I got a stomach bug. The weekend was taken up with more social activity; my sister Lisa was up visiting from Venice Beach (one of the cool parts of Los Angeles) and we had a full weekend of beach walking, ferry trips, wine tasting and exploratory drives up the 101 and 116 to the coast.

I did, however, finally finish the prologue for BAD RAP, my current WIP. Third person is NOT my friend and it took me an inordinate amount of time to hammer it out. But it’s done, I’m happy, I tasted good wine and took my first ferry ride since moving up to San Francisco. I haf no regrets!

But I do have a hell of a lot of posting to catch up on.

I’m also doing another mini blog tour in prep for a live (not dead!) signing tour with fellow mystery writer Jess Lourey, author of the hilarious MURDER BY THE MONTH series. She’ll be promoting her new book AUGUST MOON and I’ll be promoting MURDER FOR HIRE: The Peruvian Pigeon. To check out our tour stops in the Bay Area to Seattle, starting the Wednesday before Memorial Day, go here. I’ll be doing an interview with Jess on Pointless Drivel on April 22nd. Don’t worry, I’ll post a reminder.

Jess and I are planning on a pacifistic Thelma and Louise type drive from San Fran up to Seattle. Only problem is we both wanna be the Susan Sarandon character. Which is okay ’cause even though we won’t get laid, we won’t get our money stolen by a sexy drifter either.

LCC 2008 – Part 3/Suspicious Super Shuttle

Posted on April 5, 2008 by Dana

The ride from the airport was, at least for the first 20 minutes or so, uneventful. The landscape was flat, covered with brownish gray scrub brush and patches of dirty snow. I could see mountains in the distance. I didn’t notice any immediate affect of the higher altitude, but my sinuses didn’t have much nice to say about the lack of humidity.
Lots of industrial complexes and hotels as we got closer to the city, Day’s Inns and Applebee’s territory. The driver exited the freeway (or do they call them ‘highways’ in Colorado?) into hinky looking industrial part of town, lots of chain link fences, graffiti’d brick walls, safety bars on windows and padlocked doors. The occasional bar, greasy spoon eatery (and one strip club) broke up the monotony of warehoused auto repair stores and parts manufacturers, but I didn’t see any people.

My mind immediately went to ‘this would be a great setting for a zombie movie!’ My mind often travels this path in its spare time, along with ‘if I were here when the zombie apocalypse hit, what building would be the most easily fortifiable and practical?’ Hey, I’m not the only one I know who thinks this way.
Before I could decide if I’d rather hole up in a bolts manufacturing company (totally surrounded by chain link) or Zeke’s Autoshop (solid sliding metal doors and next door to a Mexican restaurant that could be raided for supplies), a large car, Cadillac or Buick or some other big American gas guzzler (the old fashioned kind, before Humvees came into popular use – damn you, Ahnold!) pulled up next to the driver’s side of the shuttle. Both drivers saluted each other with a wave. Ours rolled down his window; the front passenger window of the Caddibuick was already open. Both cars reached a red light and a conversation commenced in a foreign language I didn’t recognize. Which means it wasn’t English, Spanish, French, Gaelic, Cantonese, Mandarin, Polish, Russian or Japanese. I don’t know all these languages, mind you, but I do hear them on a semi-regular basis here in San Francisco.

What I didn’t assume (using one of my barometers for logical thinking, which is ‘what would George Dubya NOT do’) is that the drivers were Islamic terrorists on a suicide bomb mission. Then, of course, my mind started concocting a South Parkian/Team America scenario in which it WAS a terrorist plot to destroy the Adams Mark Hotel and take out the mystery writers of America. Why? Didn’t matter. I was having fun picturing myself and the SinC members I’d met so far as Thunderbirds style puppets.
Meanwhile the stoplight changed to green and both cars moved forward about 20 miles an hour, conversation still going. I exchanged looks with my fellow passengers. This was kind of weird, not to mention potentially hazardous to our health if other cars came along and our driver didn’t start paying attention to the road.
They reached another stoplight and our driver picked up a white wrapped package next to him and tossed it into the passenger window of the Cadibuick. Eyebrows raised all around this time. “Some extra money on the side?” said the woman next to me just loud enough for us to hear. The driver was oblivious, still talking to his buddy as the light changed and they began rolling again. They reached a fork in the road and our driver went straight while his friend/business acquaintance drove off to the left.
I was dying to ask what it was all about, but didn’t quite dare as the super shuttle driver settled back into stony-faced silence. Chain link fences and graffiti gave way to a much more upscale downtown area and we reached the Adams Mark Hotel in short order. I got out along with the man in the backseat.
Heh. If he was another LCC attendee, I wondered which of us would use the incident in a book or story first.

Super Power

Posted on April 1, 2008 by Dana

Ever played the ‘if you could have a super power, what would it be?’ game? Y’know, the power to fly or turn invisible or whatever takes your fancy. My super power of choice has always been teleportation. This would include a guarantee I would always teleport successfully (correct location, body not turned inside, internal organs where they should be, etc) and be able to take person/persons and inanimate objects with me. This way I wouldn’t have to pay for gas, plane fare, rental cars, or animal sitters. I could go out of town and teleport back to clean out the cat boxes and feed the little darlings. Pretty nifty super power, eh?

As of this weekend, however, a new power has supplanted (at least temporarily) my tried and true dream of teleportation.

I want to be able to make people fart at will.

MY will. None of this ‘pull my finger’ stuff.

Now before you dismiss this ability as being worthless to anyone over the age of 10 (or not a drunken frat boy), think about it for a minute. True, the idea originated because of an unworthy desire to see a particularly pompous acquaintance taken down a few pegs in his own self-esteem, but then the ramifications of this gaseous power began to occur to me. Imagine what would have happened to, say, Hitler back in the days before he obtained real power, had he been seized with uncontrollable bouts of flatulence whenever he tried to give a public speech? Would anyone have taken him seriously? He’d just be known as that farty little gasbag with the doofy mustache instead of one of history’s greatest monsters. And had George W. let a few wet and juicy ones rip on the campaign trail I seriously doubt we’d have had to put up with him for the last 7 plus years.

Think about it, ladies and gents. The power to change history without raising a finger. Or pulling one either.

My super heroine name?

The Fartiste, of course.

LCC 2008 – Part 2/Arrival in Denver and the Evil Airport

Posted on March 27, 2008 by Dana

This was the first time I’d flown Frontier Airlines and so far, so good. Their planes are tiny – something like 24 rows in total – and, like all economy sections, leg and aisle space are in short supply. But they boarded when they said they were going to board and my flight actually landed at Denver Airport a few minutes ahead of schedule. This was a very good thing as the Denver Airport is one of those sprawling multi-terminal hubs. Half airport/half shopping mall, with flat moving escalators stretching across the length of the building. Signs pointed the way to ground transportation and I set off confidently in that direction, tote bag propped on top of my wheeled suitcase to make things easy on my shoulders. I ignored the moving escalators. They were for wusses afraid of getting a little exercise! And the free train? Hah. I had plenty of time. I’d walk it.
Five, ten minutes later I found myself dead-ended in another terminal, having somehow missed the turnoff for ground transportation. My suitcase/tote bag had doubled in weight (or so my arm was telling me). True, I had a half dozen copies of MFH squirreled away in case the box shipped by my publisher got lost in transit, but they were paperback, fer crissake! Okay, trade paperback, but still…
I switched arms and trundled off back the way I came, my stride a bit less jaunty. I kept a lookout for signs and arrows pointing me in the right direction. Even still, I missed the turnoff again and not because I’m directionally challenged. Seriously, I’m usually a damned good navigator. But there were elevators, escalators, pedestrian overpasses scattered next to and above one another and the arrows pointing towards the elusive ground transportation seemed to indicate all directions and choices at once.
By this time both my arms were burning from the strain of lugging my magical weight-gaining bags and I honed in on the first uniformed person I saw and asked if he’d point me towards the Super Shuttle. He pointed and gave me a series of lefts and rights and ups and downs that left my head spinning. I became increasingly stressed every minute and discovered it’s impossible to practice deep yoga breathing when you’re walking at a fast clip and hauling lead baggage.
To cut an embarrassingly long story and seemingly endless hike short, five friendly, well-meaning airport employees later I finally found the Super Shuttle kiosk at what must have been the furthest possible point from my arrival gate.
I huffed and puffed like someone who’d just tried to run a mile after years of sedentary living, both arms felt like they were going to drop out of their sockets and my hair flew every which way but neat. The woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow as I collapsed on top of the counter and gasped, “Adams Mark Hotel, please.”
“One way or round trip?”
“Round trip.”
She typed on her computer as I caught my breath and looked at my watch. Still plenty of time to make my panel. As she handed me my receipt, the gal smiled and said, “They leave every 15 minutes. So relax.” She pointed the way to the exit and the waiting
And in a total anti-climax as I immediately boarded a waiting shuttle along with two other passengers. The shuttle departed within minutes and we were on our way to downtown Denver.

Foster and Haggis

Posted on March 26, 2008 by Dana

I love this picture…it’s one of the last ones taken before Haggis got ill and really shows his sweet personality. Foster’s too, for that matter.

Left Coast Crime 2008 – Thursday/The Airport

Posted on March 23, 2008 by Dana

I’d been to one mystery convention before; Left Coast Crime 1998 in San Diego. I went as a performer at the request of my mom, who was one of the local organizers. We had a skit involving Sherlock Holmes, Moriarity and Nancy Drew. I played Nancy Drew, my husband Brian was Holmes, our friend Scott did a turn as Moriarity, my mom was Hannah Gruen (faithful housekeeper for the Drews) and local mystery writer Alan Russell played Nancy’s boyfriend Ned Nickerson. Heh. My favorite moment was when Ned, sent off stage to do Nancy’s bidding, muttered ‘ball breaker’ in an audible impromptu bit of dialogue that nearly made me break character.

And that pretty much was it for my mystery convention experience until a decade later, when I decided to attend LCC ’08 in Denver. This time, however, I’d be going as an author, not a performer. I had my new mystery (okay, my ONLY mystery so far) MURDER FOR HIRE: The Peruvian Pigeon to promote, managed to get placed on a couple of panels and was invited to attend the New Authors Breakfast. Pretty heady stuff considering the years between MFH’s first draft and actual publication. I very nearly didn’t go, however, because of the sudden illness of our kitten, Haggis. As it played out, my little guy left us the night before my flight to Denver. I was desperately grateful for the distraction and glad I hadn’t cancelled the flight.

Our friend Leslie (website designer extraordinaire) kindly offered to drive me to the airport Thursday morning, so I was spared the expense of a Super Shuttle ride and the alternative convoluted routine of taking the L-Taravel Muni car to Civic Center station, then catching the BART and backtracking to San Francisco airport. Either one would have required me getting up far earlier than I’d have liked, especially considering how little sleep I’d gotten over the previous weeks. Did I mention Leslie is an amazing website designer too?

Leslie dropped me off at the airport in plenty of time to navigate the security checkpoint. Good thing ’cause my driver’s license had expired a month earlier (a fact I discovered when I handed over boarding pass and license at the first checkpoint) and I was suddenly singled out for ‘extra special’ screening procedures. Luckily this did not include a body cavity search, although I did have to step into the air puffer booth.

The puffer looks kind of like a tanning booth, but instead of tanning rays, ‘the portal has a hood that captures the plume of heat that naturally rises off a person’s body; it then puffs jets of air which shake loose particles. The machine vaporizes the particles, gives them a charge, and measures how fast the ions are traveling. Using that speed, screeners can identify the presence of banned substances, such as explosives.’ I let out a little surprised laugh when the jets of air hit me and quite cheerfully submitted to the rest of the special screening, which involved the careful inspection of my bags. The two security guards in charge of the procedure were friendly and courteous (perhaps because I was so cheerful about being inspected?) and repacked my bags more neatly than my packing job that morning (I’m sure my mom won’t be shocked at that). After seeing a copy of my book, the male security guard asked if I was going to have a sexy airport security fellow in my next mystery. I promised him I would and they sent me on my way with more than enough time to hunt down coffee and a chocolate croissant (forbidden wheat!). I spent a contented 45 minutes reading a Charlaine Harris book, nibbling on the croissant and sipping an extremely good cappuccino while waiting for the call to board my flight.

The only point of stress was a slim margin for error regarding my flight times and my first panel at LCC. My flight was due to land at 1:05 and the panel started at 2:45. The Denver airport is about 30 miles outside the city of Denver itself and my budget dictated a SuperShuttle ride and they left every 15 minutes. In theory it shouldn’t be a problem, but if my flight was delayed I might miss the panel. I’d thought to get one of the organizer’s cell phone numbers before leaving, so at the very least I could call and let them know I might not make it. I wasn’t too worried, but I was so numb after losing Haggis, things that would normally have had me on edge didn’t make much of an impact. I’d either be on time or I wouldn’t. Yup, I was riding a numb Zen wave from SFO to Denver. I had a good book and a chocolate croissant and I was off on a new adventure. Numb Zen was fine by me.

Side-tracked

Posted on March 18, 2008 by Dana

My original intention was to write my first post on the Left Coast Crime convention in Denver. However, I veered off track (it happens) after reading the introduction for zombie novel. The intro describes the book as a ‘pulp zombie masterpiece,’ the author as ‘the Quentin Tarantino of zombie literature,’ and further states the author ‘goes balls-to-the wall’ to give the readers what they want in a zombie story.

Balls-to-the wall.

Now when did this expression become popular? And why? I know it’s supposed to convey a tesosterone filled all out attempt to accomplish something, but the image it conjurs is of some guy with his package super-glued to a wall. Kind of like this, but with the woogies pressed up against the wall.

‘Balls to the wall’ has been used, among other things, to describe writer/director Eli Roth’s treatment of the horror genre, namely his first commercial film CABIN FEVER, which was said by one sycophantic review to have ‘revitalized horror movies’ or something thereabouts. And all I can say to that is if you’ve seen CABIN FEVER and the word “Pancakes!” doesn’t make you a: laugh, b: cringe, c: shake your head in disbelief or d: all of the above, then please don’t come over to my house for Bad Movie Night because neither of us will have a good time.

Now please excuse me. It’s time to utilize my tits to the wind style of writing, test the boundaries of reality, good taste, disregard the sanctity of my characters, push the envelope of my readers’ comfort zone, and, if I’m really lucky, revitalize a genre or two.

Haggis

Posted on March 15, 2008 by Dana

It’s been a rough few weeks. Last Wednesday night, we had to say goodbye to Haggis, our darling eight-month old kitten. He let us know he was ready to go…and we had our vet come to the house. He had 24/7 of attention and love from Dave and me from the moment we found out he had FIP; I took him to work with me a couple of days. He faded out slowly, but even at the end he still purred when he woke up and saw the two of us with him.

I have cried more in the last couple of weeks than should be allowed.

His sister, Taz, curled up with him every hour or so. If she wasn’t grooming him, she was coiled around him in a protective semi-circle. I spent a lot of time holding the two of them.
We got Haggis’s ashes back from the vet’s this morning. They came in a little polished pine box, complete with a lock and two little keys. We put the box in a vampire kitty container from one of Cost Plus’s Halloween collections, courtesy of my brother and sister-in-law. It was one of my favorite Christmas presents this year and perfect as a resting place for Haggis, who had overlong canines. I need to take a picture of the vampire kitty and post it. Just not yet

Grieving is a long process. You can’t rush it. I’m okay with that. I’m not okay with people telling me ‘get over it; it’s only a cat, fer crissake.’ Tell that to Taz, who periodically wanders around the house looking for her brother and meowing. If someone doesn’t relate to those of us who consider our animal companions (that’s the PC term for ‘pets’, in case you were wondering) part of our families, the best thing they can do (both for the sake of the bereaved and their own health) is keep their opinion to themselves. Seriously.

I hope this is the last post I’ll write for quite a while about grief and loss. I attended Left Coast Crime in Denver last weekend, am gearing up at a leisurely pace for a book signing tour in May with my new pal and fellow writer Jess Lourey, and have a lot of positive things happening in my life.

But damn, I miss that cat.

Upcoming Virtual Book-signing Events

Posted on March 3, 2008 by Dana

My friend and fellow writer Steve Prosapio, is holding Bookdays on his blog, virtual interviews and book drawings with four writers, including myself. Steve’s blog is here. Below, in his own words, is a more comprehensive description of the events. Please stop by his blog, both on the dates mentioned and just to check it out! And yes, a free copy of MURDER FOR HIRE: The Peruvian Pigeon, will be up for grabs!

“They say that March comes in like a lion…

But I’m hereby declaring the next thirty days, “March out and buy a book” month! In support of that, I’ll be hosting virtual “book-signing” events each Wednesday this month on my blog. In fact, I’ll no longer refer to the fourth day of the week as “Wednesday” any longer. It’s now called “Bookday.”

Okay, that last part might be a bit over the top, but the “book events” will be fun.

Without further ado, here’s who will be joining us:

March 5th – Chicago, IL

Geoffrey Edwards, author of Fire Bell in the Night, a historical novel set in antebellum South Carolina that centers on the trial of a man who helped an escaping slave.

March 12th – San Francisco, CA

Dana Fredsti, author of Murder For Hire: The Peruvian Pigeon, an almost-cozy murder mystery about an acting troupe that specializes in spoofing, not sleuthing…until bodies start stacking up.

March 19th – Sienna, Italy

My review of Too Much Tuscan Sun by Dario Castagno, a memoir of a Chianti tour guide. I recently met Dario at a book signing. I’d corresponded with him from time to time since purchasing his book in 2005.

March 26th – New York, NY

Seymour Garte, author of Where We Stand: A Surprising Look at the Real State of Our Planet. This nonfiction work explores environmental topics and suggests what we can do to better care for the earth.

Stop by for any/all of these events on my blog. Interviews with the authors will be posted and some of them have agreed to stop by the blog that day to discuss their work and answer questions from the audience (aka the No Bull Gallery). You do NOT need to be registered with Live Journal to participate. You can post anonymously (hit the “anonymous” button after clicking your comment), but please make sure to put your name on the post. Books and/or gift cards will be given away on the Friday following the visits to those who participate.

Don’t miss out on your chance to “mingle” with published authors (and win free books)!

Again, these events will be held ON MY BLOG on the posted dates. I will be “replaying” the interviews, so to speak, on my gather.com home page but if you want to win prizes, come and post to the BLOG itself. “