Home Again

Have you ever come home from vacation and felt like you couldn't get back into your old routine? That's how I've felt since returning home after five weeks with my Arizona family. First, spending all day traveling--spending most of it waiting in airports for flights--was so tiring. Getting home after 11 pm (local time, but only 9 on AZ time) meant we should go to bed but stayed up to watch a couple of episodes of Murdoch Mysteries (aka The Artful Detective). Getting this old body used to local time isn't as easy as it used to be. Even though I tried to keep up with blogs, etc. while away from home, it seemed extra hard to get back into routine.

That being said . . . If you're a member of my Facebook Readers Group, then you know I finished the rough draft of THE CASE OF THE MEDDLING MAMA (aka the story that took way too long to complete). If you're a regular reader of this blog, then you know I'm a combo pantser and plotter, heavy on the pantser part. Usually. With this book, I knew the beginning, the dark moment, and the end. I'd even worked out many of the scenes in my mind. So why did it take so long to write? I felt like I knew the whole story. Most readers would say, "Duh. You're the writer. Of course, you know the story."

Not usually.

As a pantser (one who writes by the seat of her/his pants), I don't know the story. I let it unfold as I write. A plotter, on the other hand, knows exactly what's going to happen and when. That takes the fun out of writing, for me. I'll have a vague idea for the story. As I write, I let my characters take the lead. Inspiration takes over. Not so with Meddling Mama. But now it's done and on to revising, editing, and proofing before it goes off  to my fabulous editor.

Also, if you're a member of my Readers Group or read yesterday's Weekend Writing Warrior post, you've seen the cover, If not, here it is.

When my amazing cover artist, Florence Price, and I talked about the cover for the first Alex O'Hara book, we decided to have the covers follow the seasons (since the stories would). As you can see by the tulips in the planters in front of Alex's building and people on the beach but not in the water, it's Spring.

Now it's back-to-work time. Revising, editing, proofing. Again and again.

Have a great week.

Writing Life While On Vacation

Once upon a time, I had a writing schedule. Get up, grab a cup of coffee, check email, get another cup of coffee, then time to write. When I stick to the schedule, I can turn out 1,000 - 2,000 words before lunch. But notice the beginning of that sentence--when I stick to the schedule.

We've been visiting our son and his family for almost 3 weeks now. We're on vacation. Sort of. It's wonderful leaving the snow and cold of Michigan for warm sunshine. Except. According to family back home, Michigan weather has been mild--up into the 60s, even. While here in Arizona, it rained all weekend with a high of 57. Today is much nicer. The sun is out, though it might make it to 70. Walking around outdoors is great.

But I'm not writing.

We all were down with colds for the first 2 weeks. Having a muzzy head (from decongestants) and being plain tired meant no writing. We're just starting to feel like doing something. Now I'm content to stay home (son's home) and relax. Maybe hang out with Toddler Girl. Frankly, it's more fun reading to her and/or playing with toys than anything else. What she likes best is sitting next to me (or on my lap) and looking at pictures of her and her Michigan cousins. She gets all excited and points to them, as well as herself.

But I'm not writing.

OdySea Aquarium, Scottsdale, AZ

We went to an aquarium yesterday and, boy, did she have fun. The fish, sharks, and sea lions fascinated her. But she has a short attention span. Not surprising for a 22-month-old. According to our DIL, the attention span was longer than time than the last. They have a real racket there, You have to exit through the gift shop. Somehow a stuffed penguin jumped into our shopping cart. She named him Happy. And that's what she is most of the time. Happy!


So my writing hasn't gone very far. I thought I'd be finished with Meddling Mama by now. As you can tell from the progress meter on the right, I'm so close to the end.

But...

I can write when I'm home. I can't play with Toddler Girl at home. Not until July when they come. Our time together is so short. How can I squander it on writing? As I wrote last week, I want her to remember me as the grandmother who played and read to her. Not the grandmother who was too busy writing.

Tomorrow is Hubs' birthday. It's hard to believe we've been together over 44 years. He's been a terrific husband, father, and grandfather. More importantly, he's still my best friend.

Happy Birthday, sweetie.

#Michigan Mini-Vacay

map credit: Bruce Jones Design

If you noticed last Monday, I didn't post my usual "musings." Hubs and I took a mini-vacation. We started out by driving across the state to the western Detroit suburbs for our good friends' 50th wedding anniversary then to my sister's to celebrate my birthday. From there, we drove north past Bay City (between the Thumb and "fingers) then along the Lake Huron shoreline. For all the years we've lived in Michigan, I can't believe we'd never done that before. We were in no hurry. Our destination was Mackinaw City at the fingertip of the Lower Peninsula. Lovely drive, resort towns similar to those on the Lake Michigan side, fewer trees.

Speaking of trees, we hoped to see the color changes. Not so much. Not sure if there was/will be a peak this year. In fact the best color was outside our motel window in Cadillac on the way home-- two brilliant red maples between two evergreens.

At Mackinaw City, we took the ferry over to Mackinac Island. (Yes, the spellings are correct--Mackinac was the French spelling, while Mackinaw City kept the English spelling; both pronounced the same: Mack-i-naw.) For a special treat, the ferry took us under the Mackinac Bridge, which spans the Upper and Lower Peninsula..

Fudgies, as tourists are called because of all the fudge shops, overwhelm the island in the summer. Even in the fall, full ferries dropped off passengers then turned around to return for more. No cars are allowed on the island. Pedal power (feet, bikes) and carriages are the way to get around. We took a carriage tour. These Belgians pulled our carriage.

Hubs, who hadn't been to the island in over thirty years, kept remarking about the changes--more buildings, newer paved roads. I'd been there five years ago with my sisters and cousin. Usually oblivious, I noticed some changes, too. The carriage driver gave us history and little tidbits of info along the route, including the fact that the horses are raised and trained by the Amish.

Of course, we had to stop at a fudge shop (mint chocolate and dark chocolate macadamia nut) and some souvenir shops (for the grandkiddies) before heading for the ferry dock and back to Mackinac City. Usually, I like riding on the top deck. Not this time. With the strong wind and water spray, we stayed on the enclosd lower deck rather than get soaked.

photo credit: Sheplersferry.com

The next morning, we headed to Sault Ste. Marie in the Upper Peninsula. That meant crossing the Mackinac Bridge. I love looking at it from a little park.

Driving across the bridge is another story. At the center between the two towers, the road bed is 200' above the water. Since heights are a bit of a problem for me, we usually don't drive next to the rail. But then we have to contend with the "hum" from tires on grating. Open grating, through which you can see the water. I can't get across fast enough. The no-passing, 35 mph speed limit (and road construction) slows traffic. Not complaining, mind you. When I was a kid, the bridge wasn't there. The only way to the Upper Peninsula (besides driving around Lake Michigan through Chicago and Wisconsin) was a car ferry. Often the wait for the ferry extended two to three hours. As we rode the ferry, we watched the bridge being built.

photo credit: saultstemarie.com

Another favorite place for both of us is Sault Ste. Marie, the Soo--the terminus of I-75 (and the "deer's" hip). It's claim to fame is the Soo Locks. Lake Superior connects with Lake Huron via the St. Mary's River, which falls 21 feet. The locks enable ships to travel between the lakes. From the observation platform, you can watch ships enter the locks and the water raise or lower them. You can also take a boat tour and go through the locks yourself. We've done that enough times that just watching from the platform is enough.

While we were there, two ships went through the locks.In the front of this picture is the empty MacArthur lock, behind is a freighter (distinctive red color with the white pilot house in back) entering the Poe, the longest/largest of the locks that's capable of handing the thousand-footers. As boats approach the locks, an announcement is made alerting visitors. This freighter was carrying iron ore for the steel mills near Chicago. What's the fascination of watching boars going up and down? Hubs used to work at a steel mill near Detroit. His company was the recipient of many loads of iron ore from Minnesota. Without the locks, the cost of transporting the iron by rail would have been much more expensive.

My fascination is a little different. Several years ago, during a visit to the locks, my writer brain went into that "what if" place. What if something happened to the locks? Either an accident or deliberate. That story is still percolating. But each trip Up North (as we Michiganders call it), that story is coming more to the fore. First, I need to finish The Case of the Meddling Mama (Alex O'Hara mystery #3) and one more Outer Rim novel.

I guess it's obvious I love traveling around our state. Besides just enjoying the scenery, I always find ideas for new stories.

*Note:unless otherwise noted, the credit for the pictures belongs to me.

Life Without Internet…Again

Last week, we went on vacation Up North. That’s what Michiganders call the area north of the middle of the state. It can mean anywhere from Clare to Mackinaw City—not to be confused with Mackinac Island or the Mackinac Bridge, which are all pronounced the same “Mack-i-naw.” However, Up North does't mean the upper peninsula. That's the U.P. But I digress.

photo credit: Phil Peffley

For several years back in the 1990s, we rented a cottage on Platte Lake along with my sister and her family. Many enjoyable summers while the guys fished and the “girls” sat at a picnic table with coffee and tried to wake up. This time, no kids (all grown), just my two sisters, brother-in-law, Hubs and me. One thing stayed the same, the guys fished. Or tried to. B-I-L’s boat motor had a major problem. It didn’t work. Rowing was the only option until the motor was repaired.

Meanwhile, the girls staggered out of bed, grabbed a much-needed cup of coffee, and just chilled out. My usual morning routine didn’t exist. No internet. If losing internet service had been sudden, I would’ve freaked. At least I was prepared. I got all my blogs (my own and visitors’) scheduled before leaving home. My email piled up, but I wasn’t worried. I’d been through internet withdrawal before—in April on the cruise.

Being disconnected is freeing. As before, I didn’t even take my computer out of its bag. Instead of working on my novella, I read. I talked to my sisters. We shopped until I dropped. LOL Like Energizer bunnies, my sisters kept on going. We certainly helped the local economy at gift shops and restaurants between Frankfort and Traverse City. Afternoons, we napped. In the evening, the five of us played dominoes. No sitting around glued to the TV. Some nights we were so tired we went to bed early.

That’s what a vacation is for. Rest and relaxation. Even though most of us are retired, we still have our routines at home. A vacation takes us away from that. Camaraderie with family trumps routine.

photo credit: Phil Peffley

However, it wasn’t all fun and games when the temperature and humidity rose. Along with no internet service, the cottage had no air conditioning. Who needs AC when a cool breeze comes off the lake at night? Except when no breeze came off the lake. We did bring fans, which helped, but even a sheet was too much.

I’ve tent camped, in the wilds of Canada, without AC, internet, or even an outhouse. Dad liked getting away from it all. Not me. I like my creature comforts. I can tolerate no TV, internet or AC, but I need a bed and a bathroom plus a nearby restaurant.

Imagine our surprise and horror when we returned home to the news of the shooting of police officers in Dallas. We left an idyllic setting for the reality of violence in our country once more. My heart aches for the families of the slain and wounded officers. Even more so for all of us in this world who have to keep going through one tragedy after another. Crazed gunmen out for revenge. Terrorists with their warped morals. People who have no respect for life. All compounded by news reporters endlessly replaying the events and speculating ad nauseam about the shooters.

I’d rather be back at the cottage. Being cut off from the world isn’t so bad.

A Mini-Vacay

Last weekend, Hubs and I took a mini-vacation up to Traverse City (Michigan). Just for fun. To see the colors along the lakeshore. Because we needed a break from everyday ho-hum. Two out of three ain’t bad. I thought we might be too late for the great foliage change. Nope. We were too early. I didn’t realize Lake Michigan affects so much. In fact, the colors were much better inland.

That aside, we did have fun. We drove around the peninsula that could be considered the Mitten’s baby finger. Northport, Leland, Glen Arbor, Empire. Quaint towns, lots of tourist shops, great for buying birthday and Christmas gifts – and a Christmas tree ornament for myself. We even took the scenic route around Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. No, we didn’t climb the dune. Been there, done that – when we were a lot younger.

Everywhere you go around Traverse City, you could stop and take pictures. Again, I’ve done that and have a hundred pictures somewhere. This trip, I just enjoyed the journey. Besides, only one day was sunny. Cloudy the second day and rain on the third.

Still, it was great to get away from home. A break from revising the latest Alex O’Hara novel for me, from fall clean-up outdoors for Hubs. We came to the conclusion that a little break every now and then is good – but we both like sleeping in our own bed.

On another note:

Author Liza O’Connor graciously invited me to visit her blog with a post celebrating The Case of the Bygone Brother (An Alex O’Hara Novel, Book 1). I chose to write about Lake Michigan, the setting for the Alex O’Hara books. Here’s the link if you’d like to visit. http://www.lizaoconnor.com/2015/10/diane-burtons-fun-facts-about-lake.html

Have a great week.

After Vacation

Is it just me or do other people suffer from post-vacation letdown? After being away from home for over two weeks, I really wanted my routine back—not to mention sleeping in my own bed. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed our trip to Florida and South Carolina where we visited with family and friends, saw great sights, fished (not me), shopped (so not me), ate terrific seafood (definitely me) and basked in the warmth of the Florida sun. Of course, the warm weather followed us back to Michigan so it wasn’t like returning to brutal cold and snow. (Is this weather weird or what? Seventy degrees in March?)

The laundry is finally finished. (How do two people generate so much laundry?) I’ve sorted the mail and taken care of bills. The house was left in fairly good order. So why don’t I feel like doing anything? It seems like such an effort getting back to what used to be my routine. My husband did drag me kicking and screaming (sort of) to the fitness center the day after we returned. I guess he thought I didn’t do enough walking through antique stores with my sisters while he was throwing out those lures for the smart fishies.

On Saturday, I got the prod I needed. I went to our local writers’ meeting (the Mid-Michigan chapter of Romance Writers of America). Something special happens when a bunch of writers get together. All that creativity permeates the air, seeps into my pores, and I come back rejuvenated. I’m ready to do what's essential for a serious writer: put butt in chair and fingers on keyboard. Writers write. We may moan and groan about writer’s block or the disappearing muse or vacation letdown. But, in the end, if we don’t put those fingers on the keyboard or pencil/pen to paper, we’re not doing our job, we're not writers. Last week, I wrote about play. Now, it’s time to get back to that work-in-progress. No more excuses.

How do you get over vacations?