Ron and I started today with a nice moment. We're stumbling around the apartment half-awake, and suddenly I have a question.
CHRISTINE
Hey Ron, do Protestant churches allow funerals for suicides?
RON
What?
CHRISTINE
Do Protestant churches allow funerals for suicides. The Catholic Church calls it a mortal sin.
RON
Uh. yes.
CHRISTINE
Good.
(short pause)
RON
... WHY!!!
CHRISTINE
For my mystery novel.
RON
Oh.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Monday, November 02, 2009
Happy Halloween!
Festivities began Friday morning with a school parade down the neighborhood business district. I camped outside a Tully's beforehand and shot some pictures as they passed.
Then I stepped out with Benny Saturday night for some Trick-or-Treating fun. We started with a party hosted by Dinosaur Preschool parents. Then some of us refreshed our wine glasses and hit the streets with our kids. This is a big night for San Francisco and I only regret I didn't take pictures of random pedestrians.
Benny dressed as a ninja and his friend Quinn was a dinosaur. By the end of the night, their pumpkin pails were so full the boys could hardly carry them. Benny refused to let me carry any of his candy. (Probably afraid I'd eat some -- he knows me so well.) I asked him where he would put candy now, since his pail was overflowing.
"I'll stuff the candy in my pockets," he said matter-of-factly. And he did.
National Novel Writing Month 2009
In a fit of insanity, I've decided to write a novel in a month again. I've joined National Novel Writing Month and have begun my first murder mystery. Think "Da Vinci Code" meets "Our Town."
The working title is "The Fred Code" and you can track my progress and read the novel here:
Here's the synopsis:
Local historian and general nutcase Fred Stark has been found dead in his beloved, lovingly restored 18th-century courthouse in the small town of Winslow, Michigan. The suicide note beside his body is packed with obscure historical references, prompting beleaguered police chief Skippy Bronson to call for expert help.
Enter Leda Morris, part-time history teacher, closet organizer and organizing freak. She never could stand Fred, who was her ex-fiance's uncle and a self-described "sixth-generation Winslowite." But the note is intriguing— and almost completely incomprehensible — and she finds herself researching the clues despite herself. Leda and her ex, Jeffrey Stark, attempt to sort out the bizarre riddles and follow a trail of clues hidden in “historic sites” throughout the town.
So welcome to Winslow, Mich., population 4,947, barely limping along economically since the Dodge air-conditioning vent factory closed in '92. Meet Winslow's secret, ruthless Society and learn about this small town's most valuable historic relic.
Wish me luck!
The working title is "The Fred Code" and you can track my progress and read the novel here:
Here's the synopsis:
Local historian and general nutcase Fred Stark has been found dead in his beloved, lovingly restored 18th-century courthouse in the small town of Winslow, Michigan. The suicide note beside his body is packed with obscure historical references, prompting beleaguered police chief Skippy Bronson to call for expert help.
Enter Leda Morris, part-time history teacher, closet organizer and organizing freak. She never could stand Fred, who was her ex-fiance's uncle and a self-described "sixth-generation Winslowite." But the note is intriguing— and almost completely incomprehensible — and she finds herself researching the clues despite herself. Leda and her ex, Jeffrey Stark, attempt to sort out the bizarre riddles and follow a trail of clues hidden in “historic sites” throughout the town.
So welcome to Winslow, Mich., population 4,947, barely limping along economically since the Dodge air-conditioning vent factory closed in '92. Meet Winslow's secret, ruthless Society and learn about this small town's most valuable historic relic.
Wish me luck!
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