Back to School?

One of my sisters-in-law is going back to school. She's fifty-three and has two bachelors degrees, but she's ready to take on a new challenge.

I envy her energy! I have no desire to go back to school. The mere thought of sitting in a classroom and taking notes or having to pay rapt attention to a professor literally gives me a stomach ache.

All I've ever really wanted to be was a writer. Even as I made my way though college and a career in advertising, all I ever wanted to do was write. Hope it works out.

However, even though I have no desire for another career, there are things I'd like to learn - or maybe there are just plenty of things I'd like to already know.

Here's my list:

Court stenographer (I've always thought they were cool)
Paralegal (I like research)
Archivist (I like research and old stuff)
Web site designer (Shouldn't everyone know how to do this?)
Physician Assistant (No med school - med school sounds horrible)
Computer Animation Designer (I doubt I'd have the patience, though)

How about you? Do you have a contingency list, wish list, or maybe something you'd like to seriously pursue?

Down Set Hike

I was talking to my dad about how happy I was that my son made it through football season with only a cut that required five stitches. Last year was a broken arm. Years before he's had painful sprains, tendon tears, etc. It's a brutal sport but my son loves playing it -- he loves all sports.

My dad is a football coach and played the sport himself. As I was telling him about how happy I was about the stitches under son's chin, he started talking about how he played before there were face masks. They started adding them to helmets when Dad was a freshman at Michigan State. The first day he wore one, another player hit him just right, ripped off the face mask and broke his nose -- a nose that had been broken a number of times before, because of playing without a face mask. As Dad sat in the hospital with blood from end to end, the coach stopped by and asked how he was doing. Dad said he was fine. The coach said, "Okay, then we'll see you tomorrow at practice."

You can imagine, but by the end of the conversation I was even happier about the stitches as well as the addition of face masks.

Changes

My husband and I don't have brand new cars. His is a newer model than mine, but both vehicles have seen their share of miles and accidental dings. We're both pretty happy with what we've got, though.

My son is almost sixteen (yeah, it's killing me) and we've been on the hunt for something he can drive. Something safe, reliable and, of course, extra affordable (read: cheap). We told him we'd match whatever amount he was able to save over the last few years, but the total budget still isn't huge. So the cars we've been looking at are old and packed with lots of miles. But that's fine if they have a good history and the safety ratings aren't bad.

This afternoon we drove something from 2001 that was in great shape. Remembering the things that were important to me when I was a teenager, I watched my son closely.
Stereo (check)
Double-check the stereo (check)
See if car will go fast (check -- well, I was right there with him, so he couldn't push it too much)

But the thing that got his attention (and held it) was the one item I didn't even think he'd notice. The one thing he'd never seen before. The cigarette lighter. It was the kind you push in and the inner circles of metal get red hot -- it was the kind my grandfather used, the kind that used to come standard in every car ever made. I have no idea when they quit putting lighters in cars.

My son was fascinated by the whole concept and though his generation doesn't seem to be interested in smoking cigarettes (yay!), the lighter brought him much joy. He had fun pulling it out after it was hot and then joking (yes, joking) about how he could use it as a weapon if someone was an unruly passenger. He didn't even say anything when I turned off the stereo.

I don't know if that's the car for my son or not, but he certainly thinks it is - I just hope he isn't being unduly influenced by the old-fashioned feature. Either way, I've got my fingers crossed that he finds he doesn't really enjoy driving, or the independence that comes with having wheels, or going fast, or listening to the stereo when he's driving, or looking at the silly red coils on the lighter.

Right.

We Have a New Winner!

Since I didn't hear from *Rachel* regarding the Farmers' Market Cookbook, I had my husband pull another name out of the bag. The new winner is Mary Gurney! Mary is a FB friend, so I bet I'll be able to make contact pretty quickly.

Thanks again, everyone!

Happy weekend!

Paige

Contest Winner - One More Time

So, I still haven't heard from *Rachel* - the official Farmers' Market Cookbook winner. I figure this will be my last post in search of her. If you are *Rachel* please email me. paige@paigeshelton.com

If I don't hear from her by Friday, I'll do another drawing.

Thanks,
Paige

Microwave Peanut Butter Fudge

When I was little, my dad would sometimes wax nostalgic about his Aunt Bonnie's peanut butter fudge. Aunt Bonnie was gone by the time his enthusiasm started to soak in with me, and my mom isn't into baking or candy making, or much cooking, really -- but what she does cook is pretty darn good. Hi, Mom!

Anyway, in 1987 I found a cookbook ("1987" is actually in the title of the cookbook -that's how I know the year) that included a microwave peanut butter fudge recipe. At that time I hadn't found my inner cook or baker yet, so I thought the microwave method might be the best way for me to give it a go. My dad raved about it, saying it was the best peanut butter fudge since Aunt Bonnie's. I've been making it for him ever since.

There's a little more to the story. About ten years ago, my dad was visiting old friends and family in his hometown, Rolla, Missouri. Someone gave him an envelope that was full of memories: some Valentine cards that his mother gave away when she was little, complete with hand-drawn hearts and her little girl signature; a picture of his great-grandmother; his great-grandmother's funeral notice; and most surprisingly, Aunt Bonnie's peanut butter fudge recipe, hand-written on a card, with notes about telling everyone to get out of the kitchen while you're making it or everyone will want a taste before it's ready. We think it was written in 1940-something. How in ended up in that envelope for my dad is a mystery to everyone. Sometimes things just work out the way they're supposed to, I guess.

I'll be including Aunt Bonnie's recipe in my first Gram's Cooking School Mystery, IF FRIED CHICKEN COULD FLY, to be published some time next year, but for now, here's the microwave version.

Ingredients:
3 cups sugar
3/4 cup margarine
2/3 cup evaporated milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 12-ounce jar chunky peanut butter
1 7-ounce jar marshmallow cream

Combine sugar, margarine and evaporated milk in a 3-quart glass dish. Microwave, uncovered, on High for 5 1/2 to 6 minutes, stirring once or twice. Cook for 3 minutes longer, stirring only if necessary to prevent boiling over. Stir in remaining ingredients until everything melts together and is combined. Pour into a buttered 9 X 13 dish. Chill for two hours. Cut into squares.

That was the recipe as written. Here are a couple additional notes:
Be very careful taking the dish out of the microwave -- hot, hot, hot!
Even after I cut the squares, I keep the fudge in the refrigerator -- just tastes better to me, though Dad doesn't notice a difference.

Rules

As a rule, I try (sometimes I don't succeed) not to write or speak critical book reviews. I've never been comfortable criticizing art, but after I became published, criticizing or giving bad reviews verged on (to me) arrogance (who do I think I am anyway?). However, I love spreading the word about things I like or love; even so, I try not to say much more than "I liked it" or "I loved it as much as I love popcorn with lots of butter and salt." I would hate for anything to be misinterpreted by a fellow writer -- I know how hard writers work. So, I'm kind of breaking a rule, but I think it's for a good cause. I'm going to expand some (not a lot, but some) on why I so enjoyed THE HELP by Kathryn Stockett.

Why am I doing this? Well, I get lots of questions in person and via email and Facebook about getting published. I don't mind answering these questions. I've found, though, that my journey was so long and full of rejection that sometimes I tend to horrify more than inspire. Sometimes I wonder if people walk away from these conversations or messages thinking they'd be wise to ask someone who got there more quickly.

Anyway, one thing I try to share about getting published is that writers should always be true to themselves, true to their stories - you'll hear it sometimes said as writing the stories that are "in your heart" or "in your soul." In simple form, what that means to me is that if the stories that are in your soul, the ones that reach out to you as easily as you reach out to them, don't have vampires in them, quit trying to insert the creatures into your story just because Stephenie Meyer was so successful.

It occurred to me as I was reading THE HELP that the author, Kathryn Stockett, not only wrote something unique, something with three dimensional characters, something full of life and story, but she wrote something that was "true" to her heart and soul. You can feel it -- I felt it more than I think I ever have. There was such connection between the author and the story. Ms. Stockett bled these words, happily. On some level, I notice the same thing when I read J.K. Rowling, or Diana Gabaldon (particularly her first book), or any number of amazing books, including, yes, some cozy mysteries. Hang on, though -- am I saying you'll be hugely successful if you write the story that makes your soul sing? I wish! I'm just saying that you'll stand a better chance of getting published, of being successful, if you are true to . . . yourself.

I know you've felt it -- your book list is probably different than mine. But the big question is: When you're writing, do you "feel" it with your own stories? If so, you're probably on the right track; if not, you might want to get rid of those vampires.

Best of luck.

Paige