Janet's Jargon

Christmas came early this year

2011-12-06T20:37:00.001-06:00

Surprises! I love surprises! I hate surprises! Actually, I love the surprise. I just hate not being able to figure out what it is. So, it was with a bit of apprehension that I approached the “great adventure” my youngest son, Kevin, had planned for me.
Kevin lives in Chicago, about 500 miles south of Amberg, WI, where I live. He let me know a few weeks ago that I was to keep the weekend of Dec. 3rd open, as he was coming up to “kidnap” me for the weekend. I mean, how can you kidnap your own mother? Something seemed amiss, but I do trust him, so it was with great anticipation that I waited. He said it was my Christmas present, early, because he knew he would be very busy with his catering business closer to Christmas.
To make matters worse, he let several of my friends here in Amberg know what was planned, but none of them would spill a word. I should have known it would be a miraculous time. In the 3+ years since I moved to Amberg, I have never known the whole town to keep a secret. But, they were sworn to secrecy, and no amount of begging, pleading, or bribing would move them to divulge the secret.
Kevin finally did drop a hint. He said, “It is something you have wanted to do for a long time, but you have wanted to do it more in the last few years, but you have never gotten to do it and I am pretty sure you will never get to do it in Amberg.” Well, that narrowed it down to about a gazillion things.
My first instinct was to think that perhaps he had gotten tickets for an opera. I have always enjoyed opera music, but until I got acquainted with Brad Garvin, thanks to his mom Martha, that I really started to understand it and fully appreciate it. Brad is a bass/baritone opera singer at the New York Metropolitan Opera and has been my radio guest a couple of years on my “Marketing for Fun and Profit” program. His mom introduced us because he had a book he had written and wasn’t quite sure how to proceed with trying to get it published. (The book is With the Voice of Angels, a wonderful mystery set in the opera world in Chicago, where Brad got his start.) So the opera was something I have been trying to educate myself in. Kevin had seen several operas, including some in Italy when he was there. When he stayed with me for a couple of months last summer we watched several of the Met performances on PBS TV.
So, with that as my clue, I went to Google and sought operas at the places in Chicago for the weekend of Dec. 3. I came up empty handed. I guess I would just have to wait and see.
As the day approached when Kevin would arrive to whisk me away to the Windy City, I was all packed and rarin’ to go. As we headed south, he told me what the big event was. He had indeed gotten two tickets to a very special opera. It was La Boheme, but it was not in an opera house, but in the United Methodist Church in downtown Chicago.
Kevin had several other things planned too, but that was to be the high point. So our excursion began on Friday morning, when we left for Chicago. The weather was perfect for traveling. We decided to not stop to eat on the way, but to wait until we got to the city. When we arrived, Kevin drove around Lake Shore Drive. The Chicago skyline has to be one of the most beautiful in the world. It was about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, so the lights were just beginning to turn on.
The last time I was in Chicago was 1965! How could that be possible? Was I really that old? No, it had to be a mistake. I felt like a little kid in a candy shop. While many things had changed over the years, there were still many things I recognized and that felt like I was, in a way, going home.
We proceeded to the Loop downtown. I had forgotten how loud the El was when it rumbled overhead. I wanted to see Moody Church and Moody Bible Institute, where I had taken a summer literature workshop back in 1963. Kevin wasn’t sure where it was, but he said he would figure it out. Before we could say “Jack Rabbit,” Kevin said, “I think I turned left when I should have turned right.” No, his wrong turn was exactly the right turn, as there on our left was Moody Church. It looked exactly as I remembered it, with the exception of the addition of a Shell gas station in its back yard. So, Wrong Way Smith turned out to be Just Exactly Right Smith.
We went to a used bookstore, and I found a companion guide to La Boehme. I bought it, and had a chance to read it before the opera. I strongly recommend this, as it makes it so much easier to understand what is going on. The acoustics in the church weren’t the greatest for such a performance, and it was so much easier to follow when you couldn’t make out all the words, even though it was performed in English.
Some friends of Kevin’s were having an art gallery opening Friday night and they had invited me to bring some of my books along to set up at the opening. Have books, will travel! It was perfect. We visited with the artists and quite a few of the patrons who came to do the artwork. I was not selling any books, but I was meeting new friends, handing out promo materials, and just having fun. I honestly didn’t care if I sold a single book or not.
After a while, a man, I’d guess about 60, came in and talked to the artists. They introduced him to me as simply “Peter, the man in the studio upstairs.” He came over to look at my books. I asked him, as I usually do, what he likes to read. His reply was “The Bible and Mein Kompf.” I said that was a sort of a different choice. He said, “I read the Bible because I think it is true, and Mein Kompf because I think it probably isn’t true.” And did that man know the Bible! He could quote verse after verse. He said he especially liked the Psalms because David was so full of iniquity (sin) and so was he. Then he said, “Religiosity is really hard for me to understand.” I told him that is because religiosity is man messing with God, but that the Gospel is really easy to understand. Then I gave him the two basic verses that lead a person to God. “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” The second one is “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved.” He asked, “And then what?” I said, “And then nothing! That is the entire Gospel in a nutshell. The tears started to roll down his cheeks and he asked me to pray for him to find his way to God, right then and there in the art gallery. I did, and he smiled and said, “I never knew I could feel like that. What just happened here?” Yes, there’s a new name written down in heaven, and it’s Peter! It was perhaps the best 20 minutes of the whole trip!
On Saturday, Kevin asked me what kind of food I wanted before the opera. One of my very favorite things is fried oysters, but you can’t find them in any restaurants up here. He did some hunting online and found a place that advertised all sorts of seafood, including fried oysters, so that’s where we headed. It wasn’t a fancy place, but the food was incredible. They don’t sell things by the meal, but by the pound, half pound, etc. Kevin got us ½ pound each of fried scallops, mini-crab cakes and the best fried oysters I’ve ever eaten in my life. It was right on the Mississippi River, so the scenery was just beautiful.
We drove around in the Loop to see the Christmas decorations. I guess the only sort of let-down of the entire trip was that I had fond memories of the beautiful window displays back when what is now Macy’s was Marshall Field’s. The windows were pretty blah compared to the way they used to be. However, that was such a minor part of it that it really was unimportant.
Then we headed to the opera. Kevin wasn’t sure exactly where it was, but he had a general idea. Soon he spotted three extremely tall steeples, and he quipped, “You think that might be it?” We went there and since it was a bit early, we waited in the lobby for the main doors to open. A family, consisting of a mother and father and their daughter, probably about 30 or so, came in and they were talking to each other. They had a very beautiful accent, so I finally asked them if they would mind if I asked them where they were from, telling them that I enjoyed listening to their accent. The man smiled from ear to ear. “We are Lebanese,” he said proudly. “Lebanese Christians.” He sighed deeply, then said, “You have no idea how good that feels. My brother was killed in Lebanon because he said that. Here in America I can say that I am a Christian and I do not have to be afraid of someone killing me or my family.” We talked a bit more, and I told him I was an “American Christian.” He and his wife both hugged me warmly and said, “Then you are our sister.” It was a precious moment. Soon the doors opened and we went inside, but during the intermission he came back to talk to us some more.
And the opera! Ah, it was a wonder! My very first ever live opera, and it lived up to all of my expectations—and more. It was the American Chamber Opera from New York. They didn’t have any props, but they didn’t need them. They didn’t have an orchestra, but they didn’t need one. They were accompanied by Jonathan Cambry, a pianist like none I’ve ever heard. I play the piano; he was a pianist. The entire opera was beyond description. If you get a chance, go to YouTube and listen to some of Mr. Cambry’s playing.
Kevin had told me that he wanted to take me to a jazz worship service on Sunday, but he got a call to cater a birthday party for a 90-year old man, so I told him to go ahead and do that. I stayed at the apartment, and it gave me a chance to get to know his four roommates better, so that was good. On his way home from delivering the food, he stopped and got a traditional Chicago pizza, which was wonderful.

He had a meeting that came up for Wednesday, so we decided to go home on Monday as we had originally planned, instead of waiting until Tuesday. We had good weather on the way home, except for about half an hour of rain and snow around Kenosha, Wisconsin. We stopped at Green Bay and ate dinner (some of you city slickers call it “lunch”) at Applebee’s. We splurged and split a piece of triple chocolate cake that was “to die for.”
Oh, one other thing, I walked more than I have probably walked in years, and climbed countless steps. I have had trouble with my knees for several years, but they are much better than they used to be. After Ivan died, the doctor told me I had basically just worn them out with all the lifting I did helping Ivan move from one place to another. He gave me an exercise routine that I do most mornings except on the weekend. I felt that they were getting much better, but this weekend proved just how much they had improved. It was truly an answer to prayer to be able to do what I did. Kevin said he was proud of me, but he was so good to slow down so we could walk together. He usually walks like he’s on his way to a fire, but he pulled back for his ma. It was much appreciated.
I slept on the sofa at the apartment, as Kevin’s bed is so low I knew I’d never get up if I got down on it. The sofa was pretty short. I kidded them, telling them that it was so short that it was the first time I’d ever felt like I must be really tall. It was good to be able to stretch out in my own bed last night.
So, I am home and Kevin is back in Chicago. It was perhaps the best weekend I’ve ever had, and one I will remember for the rest of my life. Brad (my opera singing friend in New York) told me to make sure Kevin treated me like a queen. He didn’t need to worry. There used to be an old TV program on, “Queen for a Day.” I felt like I was queen for the whole weekend.
I do have some pictures coming that Kevin took, and I will post them on my website in the next few days.

May you all have as wonderful a Christmas as I’ve had—and it isn’t even here yet!

It's the simple things in life

2011-08-05T21:06:00.008-05:00

The question I am asked most often, about my books, is "Where do you get your ideas?" The answer is simple: from watching life and people. For example, A Christmas Dream started with an episode at a McDonald's. Who hasn't been to a McDonald's? It began with a marriage proposal, then went on (in my imagination and onto the pages of the book) to the people who gave their lives through "friendly fire" in Desert Storm. (I have a difficult time defining "friendly fire" in my mind, just like I can't reconcile there being such a thing as a "Civil War.")

Anyway, yesterday I went with a friend, Wendy Werner, to do a little grocery shopping in Iron Mountain, Michigan, about 30 miles from where I live. Wendy and I both belong to the "Rain Dancers" group that meets once a month in Pembine. It is a group of widows. I really didn't want to join the group when they invited me, as it took me more than 2 years after Ivan died before I could even say that word: "widows." The same was true with the word "died." I have reconciled myself with them now. However, the group is very lively, and while we all share one common loss, that of our spouses, we dwell on the positive. It is anything but a "pity party," which was what I feared it would be.

So, after the meeting, we headed for WalMart. Another one of those oh-so-ordinary places to spend a bit of time. I only had a few things to pick up, while she had a pretty long list, so I told her to take her time and I would wait for her on a bench at the front of the store.

As I sat there, a man, I would guess somewhere between 45-50 years old, came in. He was having a difficult time walking, so I was not surprised when he went over to one of the electric shopping carts. He sat on it, then greeted me. I made some comment about how nice it was to have the electric carts when you needed them, and he agreed. Then he drove off, but in about 5 minutes he was back. He backed the cart in beside me and we began to talk. I learned that he was a disabled Vet from Desert Storm. That led to my telling him about my good friend whom I have "met" through the Internet. He is also a disabled Vet, and about the same age, but from the Persian Gulf War, who lives in Oklahoma.

What a blessing it is to accumulate the wonderful friends we can find through a machine! Imagine what our ancestors would have thought of what we can do online. It would be as far-fetched to them as it was for kids in my era to read comic books about men on the moon. But we have lived to see it.

My friend in Oklahoma is Dr. Aubrey Love. Yes, that is his real name. (That's him pictured above.) When I told the man in Iron Mountain about him, he laughed. "Nobody has ever accused me of being a doctor of love," he joked. Then he reached into the basket on the cart and took out the two Snickers candy bars he had purchased. They were not in a bag, but he had the receipt for them in his hand in case anybody questioned him about them. He held one of them out to me and said, "You look like a person who would like to snicker sometimes," he said. I thanked him but declined, telling him that if I hadn't just eaten lunch I might have had a different answer for him. I didn't pay any attention to what he did with them, but when I got home, there was the Snickers bar in one of my bags of groceries.

I have e-mailed with Aubrey a few times today, as we usually do. When we were discussing which war he was in, he responded with not just the name of the war, but he said this: "It's like serving in 'black flag ops'; you were never there and it never happened, but the memories haunt you so and the scars are just as ugly."

I don't know for sure, but I would not be surprised at all if at least some of his injuries didn't come from that "friendly fire." At any rate, when you see a person of interest, take a few minutes to share a happy thought or two with them. You never know, it might just be the day-brightener they needed, or it might turn out to be a sweet experience for you too, with or without the Snickers bar.

Guess next time I send you a care package, Aubrey, I should include a Snickers bar in it!

A Musical weekend (Part 1)

2011-07-25T10:01:00.005-05:00

I knew it was going to be a busy weekend, starting at 7 a.m. on Saturday when Kevin (my son) and I headed for the farmers' market in Menominee Michigan. I was armed with books, and Kevin with fresh luscious greens from his garden. It would be our second week there, so we knew more what to expect. Well, except that this Saturday was not only a work one, but there was some fun planned as well.
At the first Saturday we were there, a group of performers from the upcoming musical, Chicago, dropped in to offer a teaser for the show. They were delightful, and while Kevin and I had already planned to try to take in the show, we knew, after hearing them, that we didn't want to miss it. It was to be a two-weekend event at the Theatre on the Bay at the University of Wisconsin/Marinette, in the city across the lake, just over the bridge from Menominee. (See their visit on YouTube here. If you look real quickly you can see Kevin and me. We are right at the beginning of the video, the second booth over, by the light grey car.)

A short time before the performance, one of the singers had stopped by my table and we had a delightful conversation about books, writing, music, etc. He didn't identify himself as one of the performers, so it was with great glee that I saw that the nice looking young man I had been chatting with was indeed one of the main singers from the show. So this Saturday, we had our tickets in hand and we were really looking forward to it.

The farmers' market was quite successful, saleswise, so we made our way to Applebee's for a nice relaxing lunch after it closed. One of the most frequent questions I am asked about my writing is, "Where do you get your ideas?" My answer is always, "From life. I love to people-watch." One little incident can add that certain spark you need to make your book come alive. This was true at the restaurant. Sitting in the booth beside us were two young women and a mother of one of them, who was obviously about to get married. As they discussed the upcoming wedding, the bride-to-be laughed and said, "If the weather is bad, I'll just sit under the canopy and give everyone my royal wave." With that, she waved her hand in the air, looking every bit as delightful as the newlywed Kate. In a flash, their waitress came running. "What did you want?" They all looked puzzled. "I saw you wave for me," the waitress said, which sent all of them--and us--into fits of laughter. Yes, that will one day be in one of my books.

After we finished our lunch, Kevin suggested that we head to the Marina to just sit and relax for a bit. It was a beautiful day, with a light breeze, about 80 degrees, and there was a 100-mile race (of sailboats) underway. We headed to the boardwalk and sat on one of the benches lake-side. (It is on Lake Michigan.) The boats were beautiful as they passed by. There were many other boats docked at the pier. People were friendly, which to me is always a bonus. And then an old gentleman, who looked to be homeless, sat down on the dock, opened the loaf of bread he had with him and began breaking it up into little pieces and feed the ducks. I began talking to him and found him to be a delightful source of information. He had a Rubber Maid plastic wheelbarrow with him, which he used to collect cans. Another incident followed, with an elderly man in a yellow raincoat who appeared to be looking for his boat, much like I have done upon occasion when I couldn't remember where I had parked the car at a shopping mall, and watching him was like viewing an old Colombo show. But that's another story--one which will find its way before too long into a new Patrick and Grace Mystery. I even have the title: St. Peter on the Bay. Yup, I have it almost completely written in my head already. And it came from one day's observation of life in general and people specifically while we waited for the time to leave to see Chicago.

We headed for the Theatre on the Bay. It was the first time I had seen an off-Broadway musical. I have seen many of them as movies, but the thrill of being there and experiencing it in person was beyond belief. It was such fun to see the young man I had met as he played the lawyer, and to feel like I "knew him," even though ever-so-slightly. The performers were all top-notch, and if or when I get a chance to do it again, I won't hesitate for a second to get those tickets and make my way the 50 miles to Marinette. The sad thing is that I think the next one doesn't take place until November! Catch an interview with some of the characters, including my "new friend" Billy Flynn (aka Paul Okray) on YouTube. I did get a chance to talk to him after the program for a few seconds--and he even remembered me! I just love it when fate hands me a chance to rub elbows with "famous" people!
Our trip home was uneventful, other than passing a dead skunk on the side of the road. Even that couldn't dampen our spirits. It's a wonderful life! Now see the next post (below) for the rest of the story.

A musical weekend (Part 2)

2011-07-24T21:42:00.001-05:00

This particular Sunday morning was full of expectations. I am usually the pianist at our little church in the woods in Northeast Wisconsin. Today would be an exception, for the most part. Our church has been actively involved with Don Shire, a trumpeter extraordinaire, for about three years. During that time I have gotten to know Don quite well. He was scheduled to be the minister today, in the absence of our regular minster, Dave Pompo, who with his wife Toni is in Brazil for a 6-week ministry trip.

Last year I got to play a number with Don. This year we were going to do another selection. We had e-mailed a couple of times on the plan. He suggested "He Lives!" in the key of concert B flat, with me doing a short intro, doing the first verse together, then me doing the second verse, then doing the third and final verse together, with me watching him carefully as he slows it down on the end of the chorus. It sounded pretty do-able. I practiced it some, and we were to meet a bit early so we could run through it once. It went pretty well.

I asked Don if he wanted to do the prelude and the offertory or if he wanted me to do it. He said he would prefer that I do it. I did the prelude I had practiced a bit, a familiar arrangement of "It Took a Miracle." When I finished it, the leader of the opening exercises came up and asked me if that was all I had. I said I guessed I could do another song, so I played "If You Want Joy, Real Joy, Wonderful Joy." I had only gotten past the first two or three notes when I heard Don's trumpet join in, from where he was sitting with the congregation. It was as if we had rehearsed it.

The first selection he played was our duet, and it went quite well--except for one minor detail. He had told me to watch him at the end, when he slowed down. He was up on the platform, and I was lower than he was, but the piano was still high enough that I could not see him at all. Still, we seemed to blend fairly well, and ended up at the same place at the same time.

Following the service, we had a fellowship dinner, so he got a chance to mingle with the regulars, then we headed for Crivitz, where it was our church's turn to spearhead the service at the nursing home. Don had graciously agreed to go along. We talked about the music and agreed that we would just "wing it" and play together. It would be a lot of the old familiar hymns from bygone days, which we both knew well. On most of them, as he told stories about different hymns from his life, he would leave it up to me to strike the key and play an introduction, then he would join in. Only once did I get in a key that was too high to sing as I played the second verse, so he asked me to lower it a bit, which I did. Then he told about his mother when she was very ill, shortly before her death, when she called him late at night and asked him to sing with her. He began to sing "Through it All." He acted a bit surprised when I began to play it; little did he know that is one of my favorite hymns.

During the program, he stopped and thanked me for my playing. He quoted Bill Pierce, a now deceased radio host I had listened to for over 50 years and a great trombonist, and whom I had e-mailed shortly before his homegoing. "Bill Pierce once told me that any musician is only as good as his accompanist. I have a wonderful pianist today. No matter what I play she can join right in, in any key." And he led them in a round of applause--for me! I was flattered, of course, but I was also humbled. I count it a great joy and privilege when God allows me to play with some of the great musicians I have been honored to accompany. Today was definitely one of those days. Don always says, when he receives applause, "Give it to Him." I feel the same way. I have been blessed to be able to entertain and (hopefully) inspire people through my music. If God gives us a talent of any kind, can we do less than use it for Him?

And this evening, after a very long but very good weekend, I turned on my very dear friend, Martha Reed Garvin, for her radio program, "Musical Memories." She was doing songs about holiness. It brought many memories for me, as she always does. I spoke to Martha on the phone this past week and we had a delightful time reminiscing about so many things, as we always do. It seems like we have known each other forever. I love it when "new friends" become almost immediate "old friends." Martha and my friendship is one of those.

When her program finished, I came to share these memories with all of you. But before I did, I popped a CD in my computer. It is Martha's son Brad's "Called Unto Holiness." Yes, you have heard me mention Brad here before too. He's that big tall handsome singer from the Metropolitan Opera who pops in at my radio program, "Marketing for Fun and Profit" and lets me join him in a couple of Christmas songs every year. Can it get any better than that?

Anyway, I hope there is a song in your heart tonight. Mine is full to overflowing.

Oh, and in case you want to get a taste of the fun, check out Don Shire, Martha Reed Garvin and Brad Garvin on You Tube. You can also see more about each of them on their websites: Don, Brad, and Martha. I know you won't be sorry you did.

Fun at the Bay

2011-07-19T13:14:00.005-05:00

We (Kevin--my son) and I went to the farmers' market in Menominee Michigan on Saturday, me armed with books to sell and him with fresh produce from his garden. Hot temperatures were predicted. We were at least semi-prepared. After getting badly sunburned on two separate farmers' markets in other spots in the area, I broke down and bought one of those canvas canopies. It was a good investment. (You can tell we live in Small Town USA when somebody says during a phone conversation, "I hear you bought a canopy" and you ask them where they heard it, and they reply, "At the hardware store"!) Actually, with the wind blowing in off Lake Michigan, it was quite comfortable.

The good news is that I sold pretty well, and so did Kevin. We are going to do it again this coming Saturday. The following week we will be at a fund-raising event for the American Legion in Porterfield WI. Hopefully, we will hit some different folks.

One of the highlights of the trip to Menominee was meeting new people. One fellow rolled up to us in his wheelchair and we began chatting. His t-shirt was emblazened with "Schloegel's." I asked him if he was connected with the restaurant, which I had visited on one occasion when I was in Menominee with our pastor and his wife, and I loved the place. It is set right on the Bay, and the view was beautiful. The food was good too. He sort of grinned and said, "I own the place."

I had tried to get there with Kevin on one of our earlier trips there. My lack of knowledge of how to find anyplace around here is getting monumental. I can get lost easier than anybody I've ever met. (No, that's not bragging--just stating facts.) The weekend we went to a craft fair at nearby Four Seasons Resort (it's only about 15 miles from Amberg), Kevin followed my directions on how to get back home. He said he knew when I said to turn right, he should have turned left. Anyway, it was a beautiful day for a drive--which is how we ended up in Michigan!

Mr. Schloegel gave Kevin directions on how to find the restaurant. "Turn right and just stay on the road until you see it. No turns, nothing. It's just past Perkins." Well, could I help it that we had followed the road around the Bay before by going left instead of right?

That evening there was a concert right next door to the spot where the farmers' market had been (see photo above). The group that was performing was the "Dang-Its." It was a trio that played a fun mixture of blue grass, country western, and sort of old pop tunes. We got there in plenty of time to park right in front of the venue, so it was perfect. We watched as four police officers came up and pulled into the side street and parked their cars. There were a number of cars already parked there, and Kevin and I joked about how they would get out, since the cops pulled two long sawhorse dividers up so no one else could get in. The cops stood there, hands crossed on their chests, legs slightly spread apart, looking very serious. One of the cops was referred to by both the other officers and passersby as "chief." Well, it didn't take very long to see how they would handle one of the cars that wanted to exit. Two of the officers walked over to the sawhorse and went to pick it up and move it over out of the way. The dividing plank was obviously just resting loosely in the slots on the bases, as one of the officers went to pick it up--by the plank--and move it out of the way. Of course, the base dropped to the street, causing a loud "bang," and the action from there on was reminiscent of viewing an old Keystone Kops movie. Ah, but it was a great bit of entertainment for the end of a very good day!

Another highlight of the day at the market was a group of performers who stopped by to give a flash mob from the upcoming performance of Chicago at the Theatre on the Bay (at the U of WI in Marinette). Kevin and I had already decided that we wanted to see it, so as soon as we left the market we headed to Schloegel's and then off to get our tickets. It will be another fun day on this Sat., first at the market, then someplace for a nice relaxing meal, then to the theater for the evening. Does it get any better than this? I'm betting at least the restaurant and the theater will both be air conditioned. And the farmers' market? Well, there is almost always a nice breeze off the Lake and I do have my canopy!

Just to prove that life never gets boring around the Smith household, it was terribly hot yesterday, so after supper I decided to jump in and take a shower. Actually, my bathroom is so small that I can't really "jump" anyplace. It's more like I slither in. I've gotten my impersonation of Charo and her hoochie-koochie act down pat! I am, admittedly, a creature of habit. (As Patrick says, in my Patrick and Grace Mysteries, "Old habits die hard," which I hear is a wonderfully fun book--lol.) Anyway, I have a metal basket hanging in the shower which holds my shampoo and a bottle of wonderfully scented coconut/vanilla shower gel that was a Christmas gift. Well, not thinking about the fact that Kevin might have exchanged the order of the bottles, I uncapped the one that I thought was the shampoo and poured a bit of it onto my hair. Yup, you guessed it. It was the coconut/vanilla one. I probably have the sexiest smelling hair in all of Wisconsin this morning!

I hope you are all staying cool, wherever you are. Make it a great day.

Frustration beyond degree

2011-07-01T16:41:00.000-05:00

To say that I am upset is grossly understating what I am feeling right now. My late husband served in the Korean War, proudly, on the front lines. He was, thankfully, not injured in service, but when he was disabled at the age of 64, he was able to draw a disability from both Social Security and the VA.
He passed away in January 2008. While I was able to draw on both his SS and his VA, the amount was cut in half. Now anybody with half a brain knows that two people can’t live as cheaply as one, nor can one live on half what two can live on. My rent, utilities, etc. went on as before. About the only thing that was reduced was clothing, food, his shaving gear, etc. However, I was grateful for what I received from both agencies.
For the entire time since he died up until Dec. last year, the amount SS charged for Medicare Part B was automatically deducted from my SS each month. Last Dec. when I applied for energy assistance in Marinette Co., WI, the case worker was surprised that I was being charged for the Medicare coverage. Due to my low income, she informed me, I should be eligible for a waiver so it would not be deducted. It was approved. However, a short time later I received a notice from the VA office in St. Paul MN that they were now going to reduce my monthly benefits in the same amount as the SS was adding.
I am a Christian woman. I have been a missionary all my life. It’s not often I feel like swearing, but this has me at the point where I am about ready to do so.
I just got off the phone with a man from the St. Paul VA office who was trying to explain why they were reducing my payments each month and that there was no way that the request for a waiver, based on hardship, would be approved. He said, “I understand how hard it is…” I said (pardon my French), “The hell you do! Could you live on $600 a month? I’d like to see you try it.” He said, “Well, there is nothing I can do about it.”

So, I am appealing to anybody that will listen here to see if you have any suggestions of how to get around this? Meanwhile, the cost of living goes up and my income goes back down. This is “the land of the free”? It sure doesn’t feel like Liberty to me right now.

Whydah--or not?

2011-06-22T19:25:00.001-05:00

I am working on Port Call to the Future, the sequel to House Call to the Past. Both books are time-travels. House Call to the Past goes back in time to introduce Maria Hallett and Black Sam Bellamy, real "living" characters from the early 1700s in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Maria holds a special place in my heart, as she is my 13th great aunt. (To read an excerpt for House Call to the Past, go here.)

A funny thing happened on the way to getting published. I wrote the book long before it was published, but before it came out a group of men conducted what they called "Expedition Whydah." After all those years, they were successful in actually locating the pirate ship, which sank off the coast of Cape Cod in 1716. It is the largest pirate treasure that has ever been recovered. It brought a great deal of attention to the story of Maria and Black Sam, resulting in several articles in National Geographic, a documentary by Discovery TV, and a movie produced by Arts & Entertainment.

Eventually, the treasure was put on display at the Whydah Museum in Provincetown, Massachusetts. (See more on the museum at http://www.whydah.com/.) I have spoken to Ken Kinkor, one of the members of the crew that found the ship, several times. He has been wonderfully supportive of my books about the couple, as well as sharing information with me on what is held at the museum, as well as swapping tales about Maria and Black Sam.

Since the first book went back in time, there was no need to ask them for permission to include anything in the book. However, since the second book brings Black Sam to today's world, I wanted to find out what their reaction would be if I were to have Black Sam make a few visits to the museum. That resulted in my calling Ken today. He was, as always, gracious. He said that the museum is a public place, so I can pretty much do anything I wanted to as far as including it in the book. He gave sort of a half-groan and half-laugh when he added, "But I hope you won't do anything too sinister to those of us who work here." I promised him that I would be kind to the crew. He then explained that some fellow wrote a book (fictional) about them and he killed Ken off in a very gruesome way. I asked him for the name of the book, and he couldn't remember it. (I think that's what they call "selective memory"!) He then related that the author had since died, so apparently they got the last laugh after all.

This whole exchange with Ken made me wonder, is it really worthwhile to contact somebody to get their permission to include them in a book, even if it is a work of fiction, if it is not necessary? My answer came in the co-operation I got from Ken (and by extension, the museum). I have a new enthusiasm for completing the book after talking to him. It is not only good publicity (for both the museum and for my book), but I'd a whole lot rather have the backing of the people involved than to have them upset because somebody bumped them off.

I hope to put the 1st chapter of the new book up in the next few days. I'll be back to let you know where to find it as soon as I do. In the meantime, don't be afraid to make that phone call or send that e-mail. Happiness is contagious. I'm happy I made that call, and I hope the Whydah Museum is too.

Best friends

2011-06-11T20:15:00.000-05:00

Sometimes things just fall into place where they should. Not often, but when they do, they can last a lifetime. Such was my friendship with Gwen Crawford soon after we moved to Grand Forks, North Dakota.

We had just come back from Venezuela, where we were missionaries. We didn't know anybody there, but before too long I met Gwen Crawford. She was the secretary at the Religious Studies Dept. at the University of North Dakota (UND). We immediately "clicked" and I soon learned that she and her husband, John, had been missionaries in Mexico. We could converse in Spanish or English, and it was one of those bonds that formed right off the bat. You know the kind--where we could finish each other's sentences--in either language.

Over the nearly 40 years that we lived in Grand Forks there were few days when we didn't talk to each other on the phone, or meet somewhere in person. We shared our dreams, our frustrations, our hopes, our successes and our failures with each other. We literally had no secrets.

I was there for Gwen when John went to China to teach English. She was there for me when we faced some tough times dealing with "the system," which seemed to attack us on a personal and family level. We cried on each other's shoulder when Ivan lost his leg and when John had open heart surgery.

When Ivan died, John sang "Amazing Grace" (Ivan's favorite song) at the funeral. A women's choral group sang "I'll Fly Away," which Ivan loved. It wasn't planned, and nobody announced it, but when John got to that last verse--"When we've been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun..."--the entire group joined in and sang it with more gusto than I've ever heard it sung before. After the service John said to me, "I wish I could have sung 'I'll Fly Away' instead of 'Amazing Grace.' What a great way to have a send-off. I'd love that." I told Gwen what he said, and she said it didn't really seem like the kind of a song John would pick, but she would remember it. So, when just a few months later John died, the choir at the Methodist church gave him his own grand send-off by singing "I'll Fly Away."

Time has passed, but we still talk to each other on the phone about once a week. Some things just can't be destroyed, and our friendship is one of those special precious commodities. So it was with great joy that Gwen began talking about coming to visit me in NE Wisconsin. We originally planned for the visit to occur on Easter weekend, but the weather was "iffy" at best, with snow in the forecast, so it was delayed until Mother's Day. Gwen, at 84 years old, drove alone the 500+ mile trip, arriving in just over one day. She had no problems other than that blasted detour that crosses Lake Superior between Duluth MN and Superior WI. But she made it and got back on the right road to finish the trip.

Two old ladies, but we stayed up until midnight catching up on everything we hadn't been able to say on the phone. We looked at pictures and talked over old times, and what might lie ahead for both of us. We told each other about fantasies that we still cling to, and thoughts of lonely times--and the memories (both good and bad) that carry us through.

Gwen said she wanted to see what my "normal" life is like. She will gladly tell you that there is nothing "normal" about my life, even in a tiny town. I kept her busy, and by the time the 5 days were over, she was ready to go home--and then some. She made the entire trip back to Grand Forks in just one day, proving what I have always believed, that the distance home is always shorter than the same distance when you are going somewhere (anywhere) else. Will it happen again? Possibly not, but it is a very special time that will never be forgotten, by either of us.

Good wine, when aged, might improve, but you can never improve on true friendship. I hope you all have a friend who is as special to you as Gwen Crawford is to me.

Boyfriend 9.0 upgrade to Husband 1.0

2011-06-07T17:24:00.000-05:00

Sometimes one thing sparks another idea. I have a lot of wonderful online friends, some of them fellow writers, some readers, and some "just plain folks." One of those people is a fellow by the name of Aubrey Love. He lives "down south"--in Oklahoma. He is a disabled retired Vet. (That's a Veteran, not a veterinarian, although he has a bona fide "Doctor" attached to his name.) Now I ask you, how could anybody not be intrigued and more than a little bit curious about somebody who calls himself "Dr. Love." I thought at first that it was a pen name, but nope, it's as real as he is.

Anyway, recently somebody forwarded me a sort of cute take-off on a piece of software. Since Dr. Love is a computer engineer by both education and practice, he picked up on it immediately and we set out to have a little bit of fun. Here is the end result of our "playing" with the correspondence between a software user of our version of the program, with me being the customer and Dr. Love being the Tech Support guy. I hope you have as much fun reading it as we had writing it.

Letter to Tech Support

Dear Tech Support;

I recently upgraded from boyfriend 9.0 to husband 1.0 and found it to be absolutely perfect. Thank you and your team for such a wonderful product.

I am glad you found the upgrade satisfactory. If you encounter any problems, feel free to contact us again.

Tech Support

Dear Tech Support:

Is there any way to incorporate some of the elements of Boyfriend 9.0 into Husband 1.0? The earlier version allowed wining and dining, and the new version seems to utilize whining and leaving dirty dishes in the sink.

Dear Customer;

This is a common problem during first use of husband 1.0. There is nothing wrong with husband 1.0 you just need to re-read the “wife 1.0 users manual”. It explains how to utilize the additional feature - cooking at home 3.1.

Playing with husband 1.0 on a daily basis improves performance and initiates diamonds 5.0.

Dear Tech Support:

Three weeks have passed and I have still not been able to read the Wife 1.0 Users’ Manual. It looks completely foreign to me. I finally called the 800 number given in the manual, and I think the fellow I reached was in India. I could not understand him either. Would you please send me a translator? Oh, and it would help if he had a happy disposition and knew how to wash dishes. Thank you in advance.

Dear Customer;

It's never a good idea to install a translator, you would be better off upgrading to husband 2.0. Warning- you will need to install lawyer 87.5 to upgrade from husband 1.0 to 2.0. Please do not install boyfriend 9.0 while using husband 1.0 or 2.0. This will cause husband 1.0 to lock up.

Of course you should try again to read the “wife 1.0 users manual” for best results. If you still have trouble understanding any part of the manual refer to husband 1.0 who is all knowing and wise.

Dear Tech Support:

I do not want to INSTALL a translator. I want you to SEND ME a translator. Apparently you do not speak English any better than the man I spoke to on the phone. If I send you my husband, will you please try to program him so he matches what the manual says he is supposed to do????

Frustrated in Timbuktu

Dear Customer;

I am going to assume you are a blonde. I am going to do a remote upgrade to wife 2.0. Please stay online while I re-route husband 1.0 to wife 2.0. The other option would be to install secretary with short skirt 3.1to make husband 1.0 perform better. This option usually initiates guilt 4.5 which also initiates flowers 2.3 and diamonds 5.0.

Dear Tech Support:

I am no longer blonde. I no longer have ANY hair left. I have pulled it all out, thanks to frustration over all of your stupid products. I am enclosing the receipts for all versions of the Boyfriend, Husband, Wife and especially the Secretary with Short Skirt programs. Husband 1 ran off with Secretary with Short Skirt and I am left alone, with no boyfriend, no husband, and I am no longer a wife since Husband 1 filed for divorce. Please send me a complete refund, as you have ruined my entire life. I am also enclosing a receipt for the hairdresser’s services to convert me from a blonde to a redhead. It obviously didn’t make me any smarter or I would have dumped Husband 1 before he dumped me!

Dear Customer;

We regret any problems you may have had with husband 1.0 and will begin processing your refund. Please allow 6 to 8 months for processing minus 60% restocking fee. If you prefer we can substitute husband 1.0 with “significant other 4.3”. Please log-on to our website http://www.spousesoftware.com/ to start processing your refund or download significant other 4.3.

Thank you from the tech support team.

For more about Dr. Love, please go to his website

Christmas disappointments--or not

2010-12-11T18:40:00.001-06:00

One of the writers' e-groups I belong to was discussing bittersweet Christmases, when a loved one will likely not be there the next year. Or what if the last one was their last one, but nobody had any idea that was the case? I hate it when death comes around a holiday. It seems so much harder to take, because every year those images of the dearly departed ones in our lives seem to come back in full force, almost threatening to ruin what was meant to be a very special time of the year.

Those of you who know me know that I have a hard time focusing on the negative. I think that's a blessing. However, with Ivan gone, it is hard not to reflect a bit. But even in doing that, I can't help but smile. Let me share with you a bit of two Christmases we shared. One was very hard, and it still makes me shudder when I think of it.

It was Christmas eve, 1995. Ivan had a very sore foot. He was pretty much bedridden with it. He was very stubborn, especially when it came to doctoring. I pleaded with him to go get it checked out, but he was sure it was going to be okay if he just stayed off it. He finally gave in, and the ER doctor basically did nothing but to draw a ring around the area that was swollen and give him one shot of an antibiotic and send him home. By Christmas eve he was not able to walk on it other than to sort of hop on his other leg to get to the bathroom and back to bed again. I tried to call our regular doctor, but he was out of town, so Ivan said he didn't want to ruin everybody else's Christmas. On Christmas day, he spent the whole day in bed. He was not even able to get to the bathroom, so we resorted to his using a bedpan, which he hated. He was too sick to eat anything, even though he tried to get a few bites down that I fed him. We all took our presents back to the bedroom and opened them, but he was not even able to open his own gifts--and he loved getting gifts! On Dec. 26 our doctor was back in town and he said he would see Ivan right away. We took him up to the clinic, and the dr. immediately took him over to the hospital, where his leg was amputated. Even this did not seem to daunt Ivan's spirit. He said the Lord had already told him he was going to lose his leg.

Later, when he was "on the same level" as many kids he would meet and greet in stores, in the mall, in restaurants, he said he loved seeing things from their level. He said many times that his being able to reach so many kids made losing his leg all worthwhile. (He was 6 feet tall when he was standing up, and he often said that he must have looked like nothing but a pair of legs to little kids.) He carried a black marker in his shirt pocket, and when a kid would ask him what happened to his leg (usually to their mother's embarrassment), he would pull his pants leg up to show them. The incision scar was in a sort of rounded shape a ways up on his stump, so he would take his marker out and add a nose and two eyes to the ever-present "mouth." He would make his leg "talk" to them, telling them about the importance of good health, good eating habits, etc.

Yes, it was a rough Christmas, but he never complained about any of it. The other Christmas was his last one, in 2007. Would we have done anything differently if we had known it was his last one? I doubt it. God does know how to give us the desires of our hearts. No, not just the "needed" things, but many times the "wanted" things as well. Ivan served in the Korean War, and he treasured the medals he had earned. When Grand Forks had its great flood in 1997, his medals ended up somewhere between Grand Forks and Winnipeg. And it was that last Christmas that I contacted Sen. Kent Conrad to see if he could help me get replacement medals for him. Sen. Conrad graciously agreed, and he was successful. Just a few days before Christmas, the package arrived, bearing the replacement medals. When Ivan opened the package on that Christmas day, he beamed, and then his eyes filled with tears. He said it was the best Christmas present he ever got.

It was just a few days later that he said to me (and he had not been sick until the final day when he went home to be with the Lord), "You have had to give up doing so many things you wanted to do for your books and other things because you stayed home and took care of me. I love you so much for that. I hope some day you get to do them all." It was the greatest farewell gift he could have given me, even though neither of us realized that it was only a few short weeks until I would be faced with life without him.

As I look back at those Christmases, I feel not the bittersweet part of our life together, and the end of it, but I see his love for me, and I feel him smiling down at me. And when I go to any sort of a book event, I say softly as I walk out the door, "OK, this one's for you, dear. I'm just following orders!"

I guess what I am trying to say is that we never know what tomorrow will bring. Don't waste any time with fretting and stewing about the "what ifs" or the "if only I'd..." Instead, make the most of every single day you have. God gave us His son on that first Christmas day. Can we do less than to give of ourselves for those we love and those we meet?

Have a very Merry Christmas.
Janet

The picture above shows Ivan's service medals. Thank you, God, for letting me give him that gift.

Holidays

2010-12-02T10:58:00.002-06:00

It used to be that Christmas shopping, tree trimming, etc. started the day after Thanksgiving. Anymore, you can find Christmas items in the stores beside Halloween costumes. Somehow, to me, that doesn't seem right.

Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas. My Christmases are very different than they used to be. Ivan (my hubby of 42 years) passed away in Jan. 2008. My kids (they are so old now that they resent it when I call them "kids"!) are scattered all across the country. They do a good job of keeping in touch with me, but it's not the same as having them gather around the tree on Christmas morning as we all open our gifts together.

However, in my new (2-year-old) home in northeast Wisconsin, my holidays have been anything but lonely. I have made a ton of wonderful friends here, and they make sure that I am not alone. That is true not just on holidays, but people joke about my "revolving door" because people stop in so often. I love it! I am, in case you hadn't guessed it before, a "people person." Some people refer to me as a "social butterfly." I love butterflies, so that's fine with me. I have occasionally wondered if the reason people are so kind to me is out of pity. Afraid of the answer I might get, I refrain from asking them!

My holidays got off to a great start this year. Hal and Janice Locke live across the road and through the woods from me. They and their family has sort of "adopted" me. I'm not exactly sure what my family title is yet, but eventually I'll figure it out. Janice's daughter Judy invited me to spend Thanksgiving Day with them. To me, the best part of the holidays is children. This year, my extended family provided those kid-links. I am putting some of the pictures here so you can see why it was so special. Judy has a new granddaughter, Sage, pictured above with me (to the left). Hal and Janice are my special friends on the right above. Judy's daughter and son-in-law spent some time in Georgia, and their best friends drove all the way from Georgia to Wisconsin (through snow and wind) to be with the family. They had two children (Austin, 4 years old, pictured below right) and Jeremy (2 1/2 years old, bottom left). They were absolutely delightful. I don't remember what Jeremy was laughing at in that picture, but I have never ever seen a tot laugh that hard!

For more about Christmas and children, please visit my website at http://www.janetelainesmith.com or click on the title of this blog to go there directly.

Whatever you do, have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I treasure each and every one of you.

Fun, Fate and Fame

2010-09-18T16:52:00.002-05:00

I was going to the fundraising concert for the Cup O'Joy Coffee House in Green Bay WI on Friday night with our minister and his wife. After a very full and busy week, I was looking for a chance to just relax a bit. It was to be held at the Meyer Theater on Main Street. That was a wonderful plan, as my favorite restaurant next door to the theater was a little place that is sort of unobtrusive, but which favors great international fare. My mouth was drooling in aniticipation on the trip.

As luck would have it, we found a parking space just a couple of doors down from the restaurant and the theater. I am sure we have parked in that same spot several times before, but you know how you are when your mind is focused on something; you completely overlook the obvious.

We put some money in the parking meter and walked down to the cafe. As we stood in front of it, a young man came out and told us that the cafe was closed for renovations. Feeling more than a little bit disappointed, we headed back to the car, discussing what to do now as far as eating was concerned. As we stood in front of the car, Dave (the pastor) said, "Well, there's Al's Hamburger Joint, established in 1934. You want to settle for a burger?"

Disappointed, we agreed (mainly so we wouldn't lose our parking spot) and went inside. It was empty, except for the waitress, who welcomed us with "You look like you are from out of town and sort of lost. Welcome to the home of the greasiest and best burgers in Green Bay."

We laughed with her and Dave told her that we were indeed from out of town and that we were going to the concrt at the Meyer Theater in a couple of hours. She gave us a quick rundown of the specials of the day, then began to fill us in on the history of the restaurant. Al was the original owner, and it was now in its 5th generation of the same family. She was a true delight, and I couldn't help but be thankful that we were the only ones in "the joint." I'm sure we would have missed out on all of that fun history if the place had been packed.

Before long the cook (the only other person in the place) came out with our bread, the best coleslaw I have ever eaten, and our coffee. The gal said "That's the son-in-law of the current owner." He grinned and said, "Yup, I'm the outlaw. I married their daughter."

I had taken a couple of my brochures out and set them on the table, and he picked one of them up and asked what it was. The pastor said, "You didn't know you were going to serve a famous author today, did you?" He studied one of the brochures and handed the other one to the waitress. He said, "Hmm. These look really good. Do you have any of them with you?" I told him that I had just brought one copy of my latest book, "The Green Yea," with me. He said, "Sold to the highest bidder," and I had me a bonafide booksale. But that was just the beginning.

The waitress had been reading through her brochure and she began to ask about some of the other books. As I talked, I noticed that she was writing. After a few minutes (with Dave and Toni offering most welcome comments aBout some of the books they had read), she said, "OK, here's my list. I want these 5." She reached into her apron and counted out $60. "That's enough to cover the postage to send them to me, isn't it?" I assured her it was, and I thought that this was turning out to be a very profitable trip to have a lot of fun.

As we talked a bit more, they asked me to call the owner of the cafe and set up a booksigning for a ways down the track. "I can buy the rest of the books then," the waitress commented. I was so glad that other fancy place was closed for repairs!

At the concert, a friend I hadn't seen in quite a while came up to me with three of her friends and introduced us. She then asked, "What books do you have with you?" She said her friends wanted to buy some of them, and she wanted to get the ones that had come out since we had last seen each other. I told her that the only one I had brught was already sold, and I told her about our experience at Al's Hamburger Joint. She was all enthused about a booksigning there. "They have the best burgers in Green Bay," she said, "i can line up a whole bunch of customers for you. Just let me know when it's going to be."

After the concert, Dave and Toni were volunteering for some after efforts for the coffee house, so I was standing in the lobby, waiting for them. A woman came up and stood by a table near me and she kept looking at me. Finally she said, "I think I should know you. You look like somebody." I chuckled and told her that as far as I knew, I looked like me." She laughed with me, then turned to walk away. After taking just a few steps, she came back and said, "I know who you are. I bought some of your books when you did a booksigning at the Borders store here." I said that was very possible, as I had been there almost a year ago. She said she had bought two books at the signing, then had bought 3 more after that. She asked if I had any new ones out, and could she buy them? I told her that she would have to order them from Amazon or someplace online or have the bookstore get them if they didn't already have them. I gave her a brochure so she would know the ones she didn't have.

I had moved just a short ways toward the door, all the time watching for Dave and Toni so I wouldn't miss them. Soon the mayor of Green Bay (I knew it was the mayor, as the MC had said that he was dressed in a tuxedo) came up and extended his hand to me. I was surprised, to say the least. He said, "Somebody at one of the radio tables said you are somebody famous and that I should meet you." I laughed and told him that I might be famous in Amberg WI, but he was famous at least in Green Bay, and probably througout the whole state, so he had a head start on me. He asked me what made me so famous and I told him I was an author and gave him a brochure. In a few minutes he was taking me over to meet 4 nuns (surprisingly, still dressed in habits--a rarity these days). He told them who I was, and I gave them each a brochure with the Patrick and Grace books on the front page of the brochure. Their attention turned to Old Habits Die Hard, with the Mother Superior on the cover. Well, they were hooked, and promised to get the Patrick and Grace Mysteries ordered as soon as they got back to the convent. Times, they is a changin'!

Nearly half an hour had passed and I asked a volnuteer if he knew Dave and Toni Pompo. He said he didn't, but that he would try to find them for me. I told him I wasn't in a hurry, and told him what they were supposed to be doing, but I wanted to let them know where I was when they finished their duties. He said he knew where they probably were and offered to go let them know that I was right by the front door. When he returned (the crowd had thinned down quite a bit by then), and like a true gentleman, he got a chair for both of us and he sat down and we began talking. He told me that he has two sons that he and his wife are homeschooling. He said, "I just wish I could get them interested in history. They just hate it!" I told them that I hated history when I was a kid too, then I told him about My Dear Phebe, a young adult Civil War book. He got all excited and said that he was going to order a copy for his boys, and then he said that he is on the board of the homeschooling association for Wisconsin and that he would pass the information along to them too.

When Dave and Toni got there, they apologized for keeping me waiting so long. I told them of all the fun I'd had while I waited. Dave said, "Next time we go someplace you are going to have to take a bunch of books along in your suitcase and I will be your go-fer to run out to the car to get them as I sold them." I told him that I really don't feel comfortable selling them in a place where it is not about me or my books, but that the venue is for the performers. He said, "Fine. We'll just tell people to go meet you at the car in a few minutes and you can sell them out of the trunk of the car."

Hmmm, seems to me that I've heard of some pretty famous authors who sarted out that way. Maybe I'm on my way to the "famous" part after all! I sure am glad we had a burger instead of a banquet!

Famous music makers--and me

2010-09-08T19:25:00.003-05:00

From the time I was a very little girl (yes, I really was one--once!), music has been a very important part of my life. I began taking music lessons when I was 4 years old. I cheated. Yup, sure enough, and like usually happens, I got caught before too long. You see, my piano teacher would play the songs for me and I would hurry home and repeat them, just like she had played them. The only problem with that was that one day she skipped a page in my newly assigned song. So, I went home and played it exactly like she had done. When I went to my lesson the next week, she said, "But that's not the way it's written." I argued with her. "It's exactly the way you played it." Well, it didn't take her long to figure out that I was playing everything by ear, so I went home with a "note speller" and a new assignment, one that she didn't play for me.

Now, many years later, I am very thankful that she taught me to read music, but I am equally grateful that I can still play by ear. I often play in church, and if they ask me ahead of time if I know a certain song or chorus, if I don't, I can go to YouTube and find it and after listening to it a couple of times, I can "fake it," just like I did when I was 4 years old.

About 35 years ago my mother decided that it was time for me to have her old piano. She got it (2nd hand) when she was 4 years old; that would have been in 1915. How old it was then is anybody's guess. My parents had put it in the basement when we moved from southern Minnesota to northern Minnesota. There was no problem getting it down the steps, as the stairwell was not yet enclosed. Getting it out? That was quite a different matter. There was no way it would fit. It was a big old upright grand piano. My folks had a little room set off to the side of the house with a low roof on it. There was a coal shoot that opened up and it allowed my dad to shove big logs down to the basement to use in the furnace. He finally took the roof off and raised the piano up with his homemade tractor and hoist. From there it went into a logging truck and headed for our house in Grand Forks, ND, a distance of about 250 miles. The logger didn't even tie it down in the back of the truck. It made it safe and sound, and it didn't even need tuning. In fact, I had it checked by a tuner every 5 years, but it never needed tuning. They just don't make things like they used to!

When I moved to northeast Wisconsin after Ivan (my hubby of 42 years) died, my only regret was that there wasn't room in the U-Haul trailer for my piano. I lamented having to leave it behind almost every day from then on, until...

I was at a historical society meeting and a woman asked me about my piano playing. She said she had seen in the paper that I was going to play at our church's semi-annual community spaghetti feed. I laughed and told her that I didn't know I was playing for it until I read it in the paper too. She asked me how long I'd been playing, etc. and I told her how sad the loss of my piano made me feel. She asked, "Do you want mine?" I was dumbfounded. I asked her how much she wanted for it. She said she would be happy if she could come over and listen to me play sometimes. She had bought the piano new in 1948, but she never learned to play it, and her hands have so much arthritis in them that she couldn't play it now, even if she knew how. So, in a couple of days 4 fellows from our church moved it over and I had it tuned. (Yes, it needed it, but I was delighted to take care of that.) So, to Dorothy Willey, if you see this, THANK YOU--from the bottom of my heart.

There is a local group of widows (we prefer to call ourselves Rain Dancers) who meet once a month. They asked me to play for them, so we met at a church and I gave my very first solo concert. When I asked them how many songs they wanted me to play, they said, "Enough to fill up 30-45 minutes." Who says you are too old to try something new?

In the meantime, along the way, my music has led me to some very interesting and wonderful musical friends. I guess my first "famous" musician would be George Beverly Shea. I was in college in Minneapolis, MN when the Billy Graham Crusade was there. I was in the choir, but Tedd Smith, the usual pianist for the Crusades, got a flu bug. George Beverly Shea needed somebody who could transpose I'd Rather Have Jesus to a key that was low enough for him to sing it. Since I played by ear, I got the job. Tedd Smith recovered before the actual Crusade began, but it was an experience of a lifetime.

When I was a missionary candidate near Philadelphia, my accordian had a leaky bellow, and somebody at a church I attended one Sunday suggested that I ask the musical director, Alfred B. Smith, if he could fix it. I did, he did, and...well, another part of my musical history. He has written hundreds of well known gospel songs. While I was there, I also got to spend an afternoon with Ike and Mamie Eisenhower at their Gettysburg Farm, and I got to play their piano while we all gathered around and sang. But that's fodder for another blog--another day.

More recently, I got acquainted with a wonderful lady, Martha Reed-Garvin. I heard her on her radio program, Musical Memories, and e-mails led to phone calls, and to her son, Brad. Brad is a singer at the Metropolitan Opera Center in New York City. The friendship with Brad began because he had written a wonderful mystery, With the Voice of Angels, and he was looking for help in getting it published. It is now out from Star Publish LLC. He was gracious enough to allow me to sing a couple of Christmas carols with him on my radio program, Marketing for Fun and Profit, aired weekly on http://internetvoicesradio.com .

Another wonderful musician who has crossed my path is Job Christianson. He was a singer on Broadway for several years, but he returned "home" to Grand Forks, ND, after his mother passed away. When Ivan died, he was at the church when I called the pastor to make funeral arrangements. He called back in a couple of minutes and asked if he could sing for Ivan's service. I told him Ivan would be delighted. He sang "He Raised Me Up," a most fitting song, since Ivan had been confined to a wheelchair for 11 years.

My most recent musical experience was when I got to accompany Don Shire, a world acclaimed trumpeter. He is known in Wisconsin as "Wisconsin's own musicionary." He has traveled to many different countries. He allowed me to play How Great Thou Art with him at a recent service at our church. Afterwards, he gave a citywide concert in the local ball park pavilion. Before the concert we were talking and the conversation turned to Bill Pierce, a radio musician who passed away a few months ago. Don said that he had played with Bill Pierce, as well as Huntley Brown and his most recent CD was recorded with the Don Marsh orchestra, so he said, "Since you have played with me and I have played with them, you have played with them by proxy."

Oh, yes, I love the world of music. To see pictures of some of my famous partners in tune, go to my website (http://www.janetelainesmith.com) and click on the page "Making Music" or click on the title at the top of this blog entry.

Entering a time machine

2010-07-17T13:51:00.009-05:00

Oh, I know it is far-fetched, but on the weekend of July 10, 2010, I felt like it was completely possible. As my dear friend Pixi Myers and I glided across the miles from Amberg Wisconsin to Deer River Minnesota, the years seemed to vanish.

What caused this feeling? I was on my way to my 50-year high school reunion. I had seen pictures of many of the "kids" from the class, but somehow in my mind they were exactly like they were on that June day in 1960, even though I had not seen a single one of them in those 50 years. Would they recognize me? I had it all figured out that if they didn't, it wasn't because I had changed, but because their eyesight had gotten bad. I don't think it worked, but at least it got a laugh when I said that in my 2-min. speech I was allowed.

Our trip began on Friday morning, and we had been invited to stay with a couple in Deer River whose father (hers, that is) had been a pastor of a church my parents attended many years ago. They were the most wonderful hosts anybody could ever hope for. They also had a Native American fellow living with them who was as zealous and on fire for the Lord as the host couple. What a wonderful time of sharing, bolstering one another up, praying together, offering challenges for future plans in our ministries, we had. It was truly the icing on the cake! We had planned to spend the weekend at a motel, but oh, what we would have missed! So, thank you, Ken, Marvine and Mikey, for making this an even more spectacular weekend. It is truly one I will never forget. I came back as recharged spiritaully as if I had returned to the mission field in Venezuela.

Saturday afternoon was spent at the Forest History Center, where they were holding the annual North Woods Artisans and Authors Day. Have you ever noticed how perfect God's timing is? I could not have made the long trip twice, so having it on the same day was great. The people in charge there were very friendly and helpful. I did sort of chuckle at the fact that they had told me I would be their "feature author." The truth of the matter was that I was the only author; all of the other people there were craftsmen.

From there it was on to the reunion. I intended to start mingling, but old friends, some of them people I didn't recognize until I looked at their nametags, began to congregate around me, one by one, two by two, and the only problem was that everybody was talking at the same time and my ears got a real workout.

I had two "best friends" during those high school days: Virginia Dowling (also in grade school with me in our little one-room schoolhouse in Spring Lake MN) and Loralee Benson (who I didn't meet until we went 36 miles daily--each way--to high school). Loralee sat across from me, and I got a couple of chances to talk to Virginia.

I pondered the people I was talking to. It was like we had all truly entered that time machine. It was almost as if we had been on summer break and it was the first day of a new school year. (Having one of our teachers, Mr. Schomer, there made that seem even more possible.) They talked the same way they always had done. They remembered the same things I remembered. I felt like a teenager again!

And then Loralee burst my bubble when she said, "Look around the room once. It is like we are sitting here looking at a room full of our mothers." And she was right. Upon closer examination, all of the women looked more like our mothers than we looked like ourselves.

I had been asked to bring some of my books along. The committee that organized the whole reunion (and who did a fantastic job) had purchased a copy of my newest book, Rebel With a Cause, as one of the door prizes. It was the first prize offered up. I don't remember who drew the name out of the hat, but whoever it was drew my name. Tom Giles promptly said, "Janet not only can't sell her books, she can't even give them away!" OK, so I laughed along with everybody else, but they could have at least given me the next prize. Later, when I sold quite a few copies of that particular book, I wondered if they were really that interested in what I had done with a part of my life, or if they were afraid they might find their names in the book--and had I painted them in a good light, or not?

On Sunday I spoke at the morning service at the Evangelical Covenant Church in Deer River, where I made more new friends and saw a few old ones from days of yore. I thought Ivan and I were the epitome of an ecumenical couple, but I think their pastor even beat us! He's a Pentecostal Jewish Messianic priest (among other things).

It is impossible to try to ascertain the best part of the trip. Perhaps it was God's hand of protection on us as we traveled--in apite of a 2+ hour detour through Superior and Duluth, seeing all the old friends, the new friends we made, the e-mails I've had since I've gotten back from people who wished (along with me) that we had had way more time to talk, the beautiful scenery, or the extra time I got to spend with Loralee at a cafe because the car needed a bit of body work so we stayed one extra day. At any rate, it was definitely a day to remember.

Thanks to Joeann (nee Lee) and Tom Giles, you can share the fun with me by going to my website (http://www.janetelainesmith.com) and click on the page "Reunion and book tour" or by clicking on the title at the start of this blog post to see the pictures they sent me (plus a couple of extras from the Forest History Center and our host family).

I hope you all have as much fun this summer as I've had--and I hear it's only half way over. I can't wait to see what happens next! Oh, and I sold 80 books, including the 4 books Pixi pretty much sold for me at the restaurant where we had "lupper" (that's between lunch and supper, like "brunch" is between breakfast and lunch). Thanks, Pixi!

"Boston Med" Proves that timing is everything

2010-06-26T10:01:00.007-05:00

Information on my next book, The Green Year (El Año Verde): Dr. Rebecca Stanford was a highly acclaimed doctor in the ER in a Boston hospital. Everything was going fine, until she got a letter from a Foundation, asking her to give one year of her life to four clinics in Venezuela. The book is due out this month, July.

Enter "Boston Med." The highly acclaimed hospital is--you guessed it--in Boston. One of the doctors, played by Maria Troulis, is a female doctor in--yes, again, you guessed it--the ER.

I just love it when the Universe (or whatever you choose to call it--I prefer to think it is God interfering in my life) plops a wonderful surprise in my lap, and all without my help. Oh, of course I wrote the book. In fact, it was one of the earliest books I wrote. I had forgotten all about it until I moved from North Dakota to Wisconsin and I found it tucked away in a folder in my filing cabinet.

After a lot of people asking me to write my memoirs, especially of our (Ivan's and my) time in Venezuela, which came out last month (Rebel With a Cause: Tales of a Misplaced Lutheran and Memories of a Minor Missionary), I can now honestly say that my life is an open book. Yes, pun intended.

Since the memoirs focus on Venezuela, I figured it was the perfect time to bring out The Green Year, since it is also set in the four places in Venezuela where we worked. The two books are very different; Rebel With a Cause is completely non-fiction, while The Green Year is an inspirational medical romance. However, they are also close enough that you might well think that the people from the novel might have found their place in the memoirs.

I'm sure the lady doctor in "Boston Med" will do just fine. Still, if she finds things too tough, she just might opt for heading to the clinics in The Green Year. Oh, wait a minute! The clinics in there exist only in my head--and hopefully soon in your hearts as you follow Dr. Rebecca Stanford and the head doctor of the Foundation, the arrogant, bull-headed Dr. John Wesley Blackstone III.

This is not the first time such a coincidence has happened. When Par for the Course came out, it was the same week that the TV program "60 Minutes" came out with the TV ad that ran countless times, stating "Are women pro golfers soon to become Par for the Course"? It was a piece on their weekly program about a woman pro who was trying to play in the Augusta (GA) competition. But for me, it was not just about that golf pro, but it was perfect for some promo ops for Mechi Jeanotte, a golf pro at a fictional St. Andrew's Golf Course just outside Aberdeen, Maryland. Like I said, timing is everything. If you don't believe that, ask any comedian. The punch line, depending on not only how it is delivered, but when, makes the difference of a standing ovation or having tomatoes thrown at them.

Then there was Bank Roll: A Max Stryker Mystery. I had written it quite a while before it was actually published. Max Stryker, a crime reporter for the St. Paul Pioneer Press, got a pink slip, along with a whole lot of other reporters at the paper. Cut backs in today's economy, you know. Not at all a far-fetched scenario. She had to decide if she should try to get on the neighboring Minneapolis newspaper or if she should go back to the little (fictional) town of Willow Creek, MN, to try to help out the fellow who had taught her everything she knew about the newspaper business when she worked for him in high school. What was amazing was that the day I got the final proof to go through was the very day that the news nationwide reported that the Knight Ridder newspaper chain had sold all of its newspapers, including the St. Paul Pioneer Press. Yes, real life was duplicating Bank Roll, or was it the other way around? At any rate, hundreds--perhaps even thousands--of newspaper employees all across the country got their "pink slips" that day.

Yet another coincidence was that the day Bank Roll went up in the listing for Ingram, the major distributor in the US, there was an article in the Minneapolis Tribune that they were also having 5o positions cut. They were not owned by Knight Ridder, so this was truly due to the economy.

I called the reporter who had the by-line on that article, telling him about my newly released book and the strange events that surrounded its release. He gave a sort of half-hearted chuckle when he said, "I don't even know if I will be around to answer the phone tomorros. None of us know who is on their hit list." He paused a few seconds, then said, "I'll bet you Max Stryker was really glad she decided to go back home instead of coming here to work." It was then that I reminded him that Max Stryker was purely a fictional character. That time he lauhed loudly as he said, "Oh, I forgot that."

My next Patrick and Grace Mystery takes our wacky senior sleuths to Las Vegas. This time I am orchestrating it so it will feature the opening of a brand new major venue there. I just hope it will work as well when I try to plan it as the books seem to do "by accident."

Media release: With the Voices of Angels

2010-02-15T16:40:00.002-06:00

My Review of Pintuck Roll Sleeve Tunic

2010-02-05T08:40:00.001-06:00

Originally submitted at Roamans

Scoop neck with pintuck detail on front bodice. Long sleeves roll up to ¾ with button tabs. Hidden henley placket; side slits. Abt. 30”.

Cotton knit.
Machine wash.
Imported.
Sizes: M-5X.

Dressy but comfy

By JES-author from Amberg, WI on 2/5/2010

Sizing: Feels true to size

Length: Feels true to length

Sleeve Length: Feels true to length

Pros: Comfortable, Flattering, Good Fit, Versatile, Washes Well, Great Color, Stylish

Best Uses: Night Out, Wear To Work, Casual Wear

Describe Yourself: Career, Inspirational speaker, Classic, Author

I can wear this for speaking engagements, book signings, and look dressy, yet be comfortable. With the addition of a necklace or a cluster of brooches, I'm good to go--and I get a lot of compliments on it.
Janet Elaine Smith, see my books at janetelainesmith.com

(legalese)

Making sense out of $ and ¢

2010-01-23T13:24:00.005-06:00

OK, so President Obama (and most of the rest of America as well) are upset with the big banks and the guys and gals on Wall Street still getting all those big bonuses. I suppose, if I were among them, I wouldn't object, but I'm not, so...

But I have to wonder, why are we singling them out? Anybody who has read the headlines or listened to the news, or even the late night comedians on TV knows that there has been a war going on. No, I'm not talking about the one in Iraq or the one in Afghanistan. I'm talking about the one between NBC, Jay Leno and Conan O'Brien. I am getting too old to stay up to watch either of them, so again, why should it concern me? Yes, it does. Because, as I read the news, NBC has offered Conan a nice big fat $45,000,000--yes, that is $45 MILLION--to get off the air. Not only can he not be seen or heard on NBC, but it seems that they have put a muzzle on him, forbidding him to do any interviews on other programs or to start another program of his own for 6 months. Funny, but FOX hasn't, at least as far as I've heard, put such restrictions on Simon Cowell when he leaves American Idol. He will even be bringing his own competing program to the same network. It all reminds me of the government programs that pay farmers NOT to plant crops, yet the cost of everything at the grocery store seems to be more expensive than the last time you went. So what will Conan be doing for 6 months? My guess is that he will be writing a book, for which he will get umpteen million dollars as an advance, but that is purely speculation on my part.

The same policies that seem to be recommended for the bankers, Wall Street people, etc. don't seem to extend to the sports world either. I moved to Wisconsin just about the time the Brett Favre battle hit the fan. There was a lot of speculation at that time about whether or not he would retire, then he did retire, then he un-retired, then the Packers decided they didn't want him but New York did, then after just one season they didn't want him but the MN Vikings did. Reportedly he got $12,000,000 (yes MILLIONS again) for his first year there, with an additional $13,000,000 for his second year there. As a former Minnesotan and a current Wisconsin, I am just happy that I am not a big football fan. I'd have to have a split personality to figure out who to cheer for. There are many other multi-million dollar paid sports figures. And then there is Tiger Woods, who sort of cooked his own goose, but I somehow don't think he is living on Poverty Row until he makes a comeback, which I am sure he will do in time. I can't find a lot of sympathy for his loss of endorsements, but I do feel for his wife and child.

Anyway, I'm trying to figure out where the double--or triple, or whatever--standards should end. I don't like our money going to give millions of dollars to support the people I can't afford to hire because I'm way out of their league. Considering the ups and downs of the stock market, the scam artists fleecing the people they represent, etc., I guess the best thing I have going for me is that I have never had enough money to invest anyway. Who knew one day that would be a blessing? You can't lose what you don't have. I'm also glad that I don't have any desire to pay the new higher prices to go see the Packers next year, not even if they are paying the Vikings. Ah, the simple things in life!

Sometimes being a Christian is downright embarrassing

2010-01-14T09:12:00.003-06:00

I am a Christian. I believe in the saving power of Jesus Christ. I am not ashamed to admit that. I hope and pray that those who see and witness my life can recognize the importance of my faith to me in my daily life.

And then along comes somebody who claims to be a Christian and who has a much larger following than I can ever hope to have that just blows my mind with a thoughtless, careless comment. Such is the case with Pat Robertson's remarks about the devastation in Haiti. Not since he remarked a couple of years ago that he thought that the American government should assassinate Venezuela President Hugo Chavez have I been so outraged--and so embarrassed by someone who so boldly claims to represent the God I love and serve. I will put the comments he made at the end of this post.

Meanwhile, please rest assured, our brothers and sisters in Haiti, that you are in our thoughts, our prayers, and our hearts. I lived through the horrendous flood in Grand Forks back in 1997, and one of our sons lived through Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. I know a miniscule bit of what you are feeling. These are the feelings of the majority of the Christian people around the world.

My mind goes to the passage in the Bible where somebody asked Jesus, "Who sinned that this has befallen this man, the man himself, or his father?" And Jesus replied, "No one, but that the Father might be glorified." How can God be glorified in such a situation as faces the people of Haiti? I have no idea, but somehow, with each miraculous person that is rescued, I think God is glorified.

Here is what Pat Robertson said. and Mr. Robertson, from my part, you should be ashamed of yourself.

Americans United for Separation of Church and State today condemned TV preacher and Religious Right leader Pat Robertson for blaming the devastating earthquake in Haiti on the Haitian people’s alleged pact with Satan.

On his Christian Broadcasting Network’s “700 Club” today, Robertson said the Haitians “swore a pact to the devil” in order to become free of French domination.

“They said, ‘we will serve you if you will get us free from the French,’” Robertson asserted. “True story. And so, the devil said, ‘okay it's a deal.’ And they kicked the French out. You know, the Haitians revolted and got themselves free. But ever since, they have been cursed by one thing after the other.”

The benefits of old age

2010-01-12T10:57:00.003-06:00

I have a friend (sadly, virtual only) by the name of Wanda who is as funny as all get out. She has a blog, and you can't leave there without smiling, or even laughing out loud. This morning her post tickled not only my funny bone, but also my memory. Hey, as we get older, that's not always easy to do!

Anyway, it made me think of an incident that happened when I was back in Grand Forks, North Dakota. Our daughter, Raquel, is a manager at Wendy's. One day we had stopped in there for a quick lunch. A gentleman that we knew quite well was in line ahead of us. He was a little Jewish fellow (Sam) who owned a men's clothing store that had been established by his father before the turn of the century (the 20th one, not the current one). One time, when I was writing an article for a regional magazine about early businesses in Grand Forks, I had called Sam to ask him about the business in the old days. Sam replied, rather in a huff, "Mrs. Smith, just how old do you think I am? I wasn't around then!" I quickly explained that I assumed he had his father talk about it, and he co-operated beautifully after that.

Another time Ivan asked him, in his store, if he could still get a certain Van Heusen shirt like he had found once in Colorado Springs. It had all of the inner seams piped and hidden so they would never fray. Sam took him down the basement and went directly to a shirt that must have been there since not long after the Mayflower landed. Well, not quite that long ago, but the cellophane wrapping was yellow with age. There was a price on it of $3.95. Ivan bought the shirt, and after I bleached it, he wore it for many years.

Anyway, to get back to Wendy's. Sam placed his order, and Raquel rang it up. (Raquel did not know Sam like we did.) He cocked his head to the side and asked Raquel, "Did you give me my senior discount?" Raquel quickly replied, "I thought about it, but I didn't know if you were old enough for it, and I didn't want to embarrass you by asking." She then entered the discount and gave him the new price.

As she went back to get the order, Sam turned to us and said, in a very low voice, "She obviously doesn't know I'm Jewish, does she?"

So, thanks, Wanda, for the laugh and the memory. You can see more on this subject on Wanda's blog here.

Some gifts are just priceless

2009-12-09T11:39:00.003-06:00

Yes, it is true. As you peruse the online sites or the countless catalogs that arrive in your mailbox, nothing really catches your eye. Well, my wish for this Christmas was a bit different. I wanted to sing a duet with a Metropolitan Opera Tenor. No, not one of "The Three Tenors" who are so notable. I had my eyes set on somebody specific.

Let me back up a bit. After I moved to Wisconsin, I soon discovered the Christian radio station WRVM (stands for Wisconsin's Radio Voice of the Master). Every Sunday evening at 8:30 (CT) there is a wonderful program called "Musical Memories." The host is a delightful woman named Martha Garvin. I would sing along with her, offering the harmony she could not do alone, even though I knew she could not hear me. I somehow felt that we "connected" on some level, so eventually I tracked down her phone number and called her. She was as warm "in person" as she is on the air. We had a lot in common. Her father was a minister in the Church of the Nazarene; my late husband was also. She plays the piano, and so do I, and loves the good old hymns of yesteryear. (I suspect that we both play by ear as much, if not more so.) Her husband went through some physical problems, and I was pleased when she asked for my advice about a couple of things, since I was the caregiver for my husband in his later years. And then we hit on another subject: her youngest son, Brad, was writing a book and he had no idea at all how to get it published and she wondered if I could give him some hints.

Well, that led to my contact with Brad. (That's him up at the top.) He sent me his book (a mystery centered around the opera scene in Chicago, which is where he got his musical start). It is a fantastic book. I loved it from page 1 all the way to the ending. So, when I referred him to my publisher, Star Publish LLC, they liked it as much as I did, and the rest, as they say, is history. It has just been released, and I highly recommend that you put it on your Christmas wish list. It is available on Amazon.com, bn.com, and many other places, or it can be ordered from your favorite local bookstore. There is also a link at http://starpublishllc.com where you can click through to order it.

But that brings me to my Christmas wish. You see, Brad is a singer at the Metropolitan Opera in New York City. We have gotten pretty well acquainted, both through his mom and through his book, and we have joked about my singing with him and his mom when he makes an occasional guest appearance on her program. And it seems that I got my Christmas wish a little early. I just had a phone call from Brad, and together (on the phone) I got to sing a duet (Oh Come All Ye Faithful) with him!

If Ivan was still alive, he would probably laugh at me and tell me that I am "easy," something he often accused me of. To me, it wasn't all that easy. When is the last time you got to sing a duet with your favorite opera star?

O come let us adore him...o come let us adore him... If only I'd have had a way to record it! I guess you can't have everything. *sigh*

And in case any of you are interested, he's very single! Maybe I can find you a nice Christmas present too, Brad! LOL!

Follow-up and friendships

2009-11-23T08:37:00.002-06:00

I love it when one simple e-mail or blog leads to a new friendship. I feel one coming on with Marty, the gal in the last blog post, after we connected over a pumpkin pie. One just never knows where something might unexpectedly lead.

Anyway, yes, the picture is Marty. Below is her return e-mail to me.

Janet,
Wow! You are quite the writer and no, I’m sorry to say, we don’t have any of your books. I do order books through Ingram and when my budget improves (currently I have none due to reduced enrollment in these economic times), I will certainly be adding some of your titles! What fun to have made contact with an author . . . it makes my day to make these unexpected connections . . . writers, books, librarians and good food! Who could ask for more?!

Which brings me to a nudge for some of my fellow authors and/or readers. I used to be a bit concerned about libraries that stocked my books. My reasoning was that if a person could get my books to read for free, why would they bother to buy them? Don't get me wrong; I love libraries. Many of my books could never have been written if it were not for the friendly reference librarians all over the country who not only willingly helped me with my research, but were almost as enthusiastic about what I was writing as I was.
But my opinion has changed. For one thing, libraries, as Marty expresses, are facing dire financial hardships. Also, each time a person reads a book that they really enjoy from the library, they are apt to talk it up to their friends, might buy a future book for themselves because they enjoyed a certain author, or purchase a book they read for a gift for someone else.
So, if you have a couple of extra copies of your own book, it is well worthwhile to donate one to the libraries in your own area. This might also lead to a booksigning or some other type of event where you can actually sell some of your books then. Libraries, especially smaller ones, love regional authors. If you read a book that you enjoyed, but you don't have the shelfspace to keep it, donate it to the library so others can enjoy it as well.
Marty, you made this a happy day for me. I hope all of the rest of you get a little "surprise" friendship in your e-mailbox too.

Flashbacks--oh what fun!

2009-11-20T19:47:00.006-06:00

One of the parts of being an author, or blogging, or whatever you are doing, is to get great feedback. It is funny how we tend to forget something we have said in the past, but once in awhile it comes back to haunt us.

When somebody stumbles across something from the past in a blog, it makes me curious as to what they were searching for when they stumble across something I wrote. I have a couple of e-articles that seem to show up fairly often that are from way back when. One of the most popular deals with God's Writing Prompts, found on the website for Christian Fiction Factor.
Another one is on cold-calling bookstores, published in the frugalmarketing newsletter.

The one today was quite amusing. It referred back to an early blog, way back in 2005 in fact. Here is what the e-mail said:
Janet,
I just read your blog from 2005 about the Shartlesville Pumpkin Pie. Just had to let you know that my mother (just turned 100 years old) made that pumpkin pie every Thanksgiving and Christmas for over 75 years! Now I make it every year. It’s one of our favorites and I’ve never seen the recipe anywhere else in the world except on your blog! My dad who passed away in 1986 said he always needed a chaser after eating a piece of that pie!

Have a blessed Thanksgiving . . . I’ll think of you when I eat my piece of pie!

Martha (Marty) Vaughn
Director, Holland Library
Girls Preparatory School
Chattanooga, TN

You can find the blog she referred to by going to the archives at the right and clicking on the entries for July 2005.

I also noticed her signature line. Hmm, I wonder if the library has any of my books on their shelves. I think I hear opportunity knocking, along with a whole lot of fun!

Hope your day was as much fun as mine was.
Janet Elaine Smith

My Review of Princess Flounced Bedspread

2009-10-29T08:38:00.001-05:00

Originally submitted at Brylane Home

Flounced Quilted Bedspreads. Shimmer and shine set your bedroom aglow with these stylish, quilted bedspreads and matching accessories. Polyester/cotton. Machine wash. Imported.

Slip into the dreamy mood of this feminine, floral print with corded edging and ruffles.

Matching Accessories a...

Princess Flounced Bedspread

Blossoms in the snow
By Janet, best-selling author from Wisconsin on 10/29/2009

5out of 5
Pros: Quality Fabric/Stitching, Comfortable, Attractive Design, Easy To Clean
Best Uses: Everyday Bedding
Describe Yourself: Budget Shopper
The quality is great, and I can have beautiful lilacs in my house all winter long, and that isn't easy to do in Northeast Wisconsin! I had to decide between changing my bedspread or my drapes so the colors didn't clash. I'm so glad I decided on the bedspread.
Janet Elaine Smith, best-selling author of fun family fiction
(legalese)

New press releases

2009-08-12T13:42:00.002-05:00

Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

An author's lament

2009-08-04T19:22:00.006-05:00

Top picture: Amberg Writers' Group (August 2009)
Lower picture: Janet Elaine Smith and Billie Williams

"If only there were some sort of a writers' group," many authors complain. "Maybe then I could get inspired to keep at my writing."

It doesn't seem to matter if it is in a huge city or a rural setting. So what's the problem? My dad often told me (and I know it wasn't original with him), "If you want something done, and done right, do it yourself."

That's exactly what happened with the writers in Amberg WI when I moved up here, at the invitation (and transportation) of my buddy Billie Williams. Billie had the idea to start a writers group.

Sounds simple? Let's look at the big picture first. The population of Amberg varies between 200 (according to the local yokels) and 800 (at ePodunk.com). So how many writers can there be in a place that size? With Billie and I both living in town, we figured that was a pretty good representation of published authors.

A news article was sent to Rosella Smiley, the woman who is responsible for submitting information to the regional Peshtigo Times newspaper. It appeared in the paper, and we waited, not having any idea if anybody would show up or not.

I don't remember for sure, but I think we had 9 people at that first meeting. The number has grown to 23 members. Fortunately, since space is limited, not everybody seems to show up at the same time. Some of them have come from Niagra, about 30 miles away from Amberg, and some from Wausaukee, about 10 miles away. Some of them have been spawned by events Billie and I have conducted at neighboring libraries.

Billie does a fine job of teaching. I lend a hand (and a too-big mouth, usually) when I have something to contribute. It is, however, her "baby." She gives an assignment each month, and there is usually a 15-min. exercise to expand on it in some way during the class.

It is amazing, at least to me, as to the amount of talent there is in this little neck of the woods. Two of the members (Louise Jensen and Gloria Persinger) had their first published article to bring with them to the August meeting. I am sure there will be more following, as several of the members have begun submitting articles. Of course, rejections will no doubt occur, but even a rejection letter proves that they have done something.

So, if you are lamenting the fact that you wish you had a writers' group in your area, what are you waiting for? Contact the newspaper, the library, the schools, the churches, the bookstores, anyplace where you can get the word out. Then just get your lesson prepared, and get ready to have some fun while you share like passions with your fellow writers. If you can make it work in Amberg WI, chances are pretty good you can make it happen where you are too.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Will "the Riehl Janet" please stand up?

2009-07-17T08:01:00.006-05:00
When Janet Riehl and I first got acquainted, it was a bit confusing. I quickly be came “the original Janet” and she was dubbed “the other Janet.” However, today, as you will see below, she is “the Riehl Janet.” I hope you enjoy getting to know her.

Janet built on her book Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary (http://www.amazon.com/Sightlines-Poets-Janet-Grace-Riehl/dp/0595374999/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247835841&sr=1-1 )to make an audio book Sightlines: A Family Love Story in Poetry and Music. Together these form The Sightlines Collection.
This is the 7th week of a 9-week Internet tour. This week brought her to my on-line radio show (http:////www.internetvoicesradio.com/Arch-JanetESmith.htm ) on July 14, and the WOOF! (Women Only Over Fifty) http://www.woofersclub.blogspot.com/July 15th .
Welcome, Janet.

JES: Your poetry is beautiful and inspiring. Who inspires you the most?
JGR: In whatever genre I’m working in, I write in response to a point of connection—whether with a person, a place, or a memory—in which meaning comes together. For the story poems in Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary, these points of connected meaning came through being with my father and mother in the old family home place after my sister’s death.
These encounters with meaning became the themes of place, memory, homecoming, change, and shared grief. The home place is a beautiful spot on top of the bluffs above the Mississippi River. When I wasn’t needed to care for my mother, I roamed the land as I did in childhood. As we know, nature is comforting, embracing, healing…and, yes, inspiring.

JES: You have a CD out, and it features not only your poems, but some lovely music as well. Are you the musician, or if not, who is it?
JGR: I’m one of the musicians. In the interludes between the 90 poems, you’re hearing the Thompson Quartette playing. My father (Erwin A. Thompson) sings and plays fiddle; Gordon Dingeldein backs us up with rhythm guitar; and Mike Hammerbacher rotates among guitar, mandolin, and singing. I’m playing violin and sing sometimes with Pop. We’re playing in Pop’s parlor.
These are all songs from his young manhood in the 1930s mostly. Seven he composed. If you listen closely, you can detect the difference between my father’s fiddle playing and my violin playing. This is the same instrument, just played in a different style. My father, 93, had trouble that day with his hands getting numb. But, he prevailed. You can hear the fragility in his playing.

JES: How long have you been writing, and what got you started?
JGR: There have been different stages in my writing. As a child I naturally made up stories as all children do…at least the pre-techno children. That morphed into writing poems and stories published in a middle school magazine. Stage two was writing for college and graduate school; during this time, the poetry came in more strongly and I co-edited the “Sou’Wester” magazine.
Stage three was beginning to journal when I joined Peace Corps in 1972. I now have boxes of journals! Stage four was a career as a professional writer in every field as work for hire: education, marketing, technical, and business. Stage five was the resurgence of creative writing in 1990 when the art came in for me in all its forms.
It’s been a lifelong exploration in which my craft has slowly developed as each new part of the journey came on stage.

JES: Do you write other things besides poetry? If so, which ones?
JGR: I consider myself primarily a prose writer specializing in memoir. My personal essays have been widely published in literary journals such as The Cream City Review and The Harvard Review. I have written short fiction, but that’s not my strength. Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary came through as story poems because that’s what seemed to be needed at that time for this project. I like the sense of versatility of being able to choose.
I’m currently writing a memoir Finding My African Heart: A Village of Stories. This tells the through line of my five years in Africa in the 1970s and how that time shaped my adult life up to the present. Inter-laced with the basic narrative are poems, personal myths, and essays to punctuate my factual story.

JES: Your name seems to pop up in many different spots on the Net. Which are your favorite places to “hang out” and why?
JGR: That all depends on what I’m looking for or needing at the time. I’ve become interested in social networking sites. I’ve joined Facebook, Twitter, Linked In, and Plaxo. I’m most active on Facebook and find that rather fascinating.
I’m a member of Story Circle Network and am a monthly contributor to their blog Telling Her Stories (http://ow.ly/15H7Ke ) . My column, “Creative Catalyst,” examines themes of our creative lives in cycles of three posts each. I read all the posts from my blogging sisters there. Kendra Bonnett and Matilda Butler post there as well. I love their blog Women’s Memoir (http://www.womenmemoirs.com ).
I’m a member of Women Writing the West (http://www.womenwritingthewest.org ) which is an amazingly supportive group of women writers.
I like following my colleagues’ blogs. These are mainly the ones who have now partnered with me in supporting the Inernet tour. One I never miss is Susan Tweit’s Walking Nature Home, (susanjtweit.typepad.com ), named after her lovely new book.

JES: On Riehl Life: Village Wisdom for the 21st Century, you’ve been posting a featured video each week as part of your Internet tour on how to produce audio books. How did you get started with this?
JGR: I got into making the audio book because so many people told me that they’d like to have a recording of me reading my poems. That stuck with me, and like most dreams eventually the situation appeared where it all flowed. Perhaps this is something like the points of connection I mentioned in the beginning.
During the last week of the Internet tour on July 27th, I’ll be posting an article on Irene Watson’s Blogging Authors http://(www.bloggingauthors.com ) that gives the basic steps of how to produce an audio book. To illustrate each stage there’ll be video inserts to illustrate my points.
During several conversations on the tour I’ve given a good summary of these stages. The recording of the Women’s Memoirs telephone seminar is one of the best.

JES: For aspiring authors, is it expensive and where is the best place to start?
JGR: The author’s aspirations determine how expensive the project with be and how to go about it. The very first place to start is to figure out what you want (your vision and goals), and how far you want to reach out to an audience.
For family and friends as your audience, and with a straight reading you could probably just do it yourself rather inexpensively if you had the right equipment and software.
For a more commercial project, and with material to integrate into the reading then it would be more complex and more expensive. In that case, the place to start would likely be a good sound engineer. At least, that’s where I started.

JES: You are doing a blog tour this month for your audio book Sightlines: A Family Love Story in Poetry and Music. Where can people find your schedule so they can follow you?
JGR: Yes. We’ve had 22 stops on this tour which has included blog interviews and guest posts, reviews, a telephone seminar, an Internet radio show (yours!), and a podcast. The calendar for the tour can be found under the bookstore tab of Riehlife. http://www.riehlife.com/bookstore/sightlines-audiobook/calendar-for-janet’s-internet-tour-“sightlines-a-family-love-story-in-poetry-and-music” ).

JES: You do, I think, do quite a bit of public speaking. How did you get started with this, and which is harder—the speaking or the writing?
JGR: For me, I’m more tense about any type of performance: playing music, acting, or speaking. Because, in writing we have time to work out what we’re going to say and firm it up. With performance, we practice and prepare, but it’s in the moment that our chops are revealed. Performance is affected by so many factors. Some of these are external and some internal.

I did lots of training in my 20s and 30s especially. The ability to speak in public emerged from that. For Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary talks that fused poems, commentary, and music became a major way of promoting the book.

JES: I have heard that it is hard to sell poetry books. How have you been marketing your books, and what seems to have worked the best?
JGR: Talks with back of the room sale have been most productive to me. We’ve distributed around 500 copies of Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary. The audio book so far has been promoted through the Internet. We’ve distributed around 200. While those figures are small for mainstream sales, they far outpace the sales of most chapbooks. But, Sightlines with its 90 poems in 170 pages is far larger than the average chapbook as well.

JES: It has been wonderful having you as a guest. Best of luck with the rest of your tour, and do you have any final words of either advice or inspiration for our readers?

JGR: Just get out there and do the work. I believe that just as in the movie The Field of Dreams that if you build it, they will come.

JES: Where can people find you on the Web?
JGR: My blog magazine Riehl Life: Village Wisdom for the 21st Century (www.riehlife.com) is also my website.
You can follow my monthly posts on Story Circle Network’s Telling Her Stories blog (http://ow.ly/15H7Ke ).
If you belong to Facebook, Twitter, Linked In, or Plaxo find me there and we’ll connect.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing a bit of your life with us. The next stop on Janet’s Internet tour takes us to South Africa as we savor Damaria Senne’s Story Pot (http://damariasenne.blogspot.com ).
To win a copy of Sightlines: A Family Love Story in Poetry and Music view the featured video of the week and comment. That’s it!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Dear Fidel...

2009-07-12T15:50:00.003-05:00

Yes, it is Castro I'm referring to. Fate has a funny way of pointing their fickle finger at us. Back in 1963, when I made my first trip to Venezuela, I was flying on a Venezuelan airline from New York City to Caracas. It was supposed to be a non-stop flight. Until...

The plane suddenly began to roll from side to side. The announcement (in Spanish) came over the loud speaker. "This is your captain. We have hit turbulent weather." Well, color me stupid. I had already figured that much out! "We may have to make an emergency landing."

I leaned over and looked out the window. It was the most beautiful blue I have probably ever seen. Yes, it ws clear water. I knew how to swim, but how long could I stay afloat? How long would it be before anybody missed us, or came to rescue us?

In a few minutes that seemed to stretch into an eternity, I spotted a little patch of something green. Land! I could have shouted Hallelujah! Again, that was until...

"We may still have to make an emergency landing." Well, it didn't seem nearly as frightening, until...

"We are presently over Cuba."

This wasn't very long after the Bay of Pigs, and President Kennedy and Fidel Castro were enemies of the nth degree. Visions of my spending my entire missionary career locked in a prison cell in Cuba for the rest of my laugh danced in my head. I was sure a young missionary single woman would not be the most favorite person Castro would welcome to his fair isle. Perhaps my mother had been right when she told me I was too young to go to "a heathen land (she meant Venezuela, not Cuba) when I wasn't even old enough to vote!"

Soon the bad weather subsided and the captain announced that we would be able to proceed to Caracas as planned. What a relief. All of the passengers seemed to unite in one gigantic sigh.

But let's back up a bit. Ivan (my late husband) had his share of excitement on foreign soils too. He was in the Korean War. He was a conscientious objector, and he refused to fire a gun. In fact, when he was assigned to duty as a night guard, he agreed to carry a gun, but he never put the clip of ammunition in the gun. He trusted God to protect him, and He did a fine job of it. He often had to take ammo out to the guys that were on the front lines, and again, God had his back covered.

Their unit had a young Korean houseboy. He was a Christian and he taught Ivan several hymns in Korean: Onward Christian Soldiers and Revive Us Again were the two I remember him singing, especially when our kids were little. When Ivan left Korea, he gave his last paycheck to the houseboy. He had no idea what he did with the money, until...

One day Ivan received a letter from the houseboy. He had to find somebody who could read and write Korean to translate it for him. Thankfully, we lived right near the Grand Forks Air Force Base, so finding a bi-lingual person was not that difficult. He learned that the houseboy had given the money to his parents, and they used it to build a small chapel where they lived. They named it "The Ivan Smith Chapel." Ivan was, understandably, pleased as punch.

Now, fast forward to today... I don't know what the status is on missionaries going to South Korea, but I am sure it is impossible to get into North Korea as an American, say nothing of a missionary. Also, to my knowledge, neither Fidel nor Raul Castro are not about to welcome American missionaries to Cuba.

I'm not about to go to either of these countries, even if it were possible. For one thing, I am a whole lot older now than I was when I went to Venezuela. I don't have the money to travel the world. So, both Cuba and North Korea are safe, just in case they were worried.

However, my counter on my website http://www.janetelainesmith.com has a few stats that you can see. Recently, they have added a map so the owner of a website that has their counter in place can see where their most recent visitors are coming from. I have had hits from all over the world, which is a true delight, but what has been the most amazing thing to me is that I have been getting a whole lot of hits from both Cuba and North Korea. Thanks to the miracles of the Internet, I can carry a bit of the gospel, information about my books, and a whole lot more to these forbidden lands. Ah, yes, it is true: all things are possible with God!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Outsourcing--it finally makes sense

2009-05-25T19:45:00.004-05:00

Most of you know that I used to live in Grand Forks ND. North Dakota has some wonderful senators and a fantastic representative. Yes, there is just one. His name is Earl Pomeroy, and he happens to be my daughter's best friend and former roommate's cousin, which helps if you need something from DC in a hurry. In case you haven't heard, or don't remember, the number of representatives is based on the population of the state. Enough said. I'm not sure, but Rhode Island probably has more representatives than North Dakota does.

One of the senators is Kent Conrad. He holds a special place in my heart. After the Great Flood in 1997 in Grand Forks, Ivan's military medals were lost. I don't know if somebody in Winnipeg ended up with them, but it's possible. I have often said that things are so backwards in North Dakota that even the river flows the wrong direction! Anyway, Sen. Conrad helped me get replacement medals for Ivan for his last Christmas. It meant the world to him.

The other senator is Byron Dorgan. I think he's my favorite of the trio. Why? I don't know. Maybe it is just because when I contacted him (through Mission Socorro, the charitable organization Ivan and I ran in the Red River Valley for over 30 years) to help a person who was having problems with things like Social Security or Medicare, he always came through.

Anyway, a couple of years ago Byron Dorgan became a fellow author. The subject is "Outsourcing." You know what that means: sending our work to foreign countries because it is "cheaper." I happen to agree with Sen. Dorgan very strongly on this issue. We have massive unemployment in our own country, so why should we be paying the wages (even if they are lower) for people halfway around the world?

One of my biggest gripes is when you try to call a technical support person. You dial a toll-free phone number, and then you try your dead level best to make them understand you, and vice versa. I have learned one little trick; if you punch the number they suggest if you speak Spanish, you might end up with a Spanish-speaking person in the US. I have no idea if they are here legally or not, but if you are bi-lingual in Spanish/English, the call usually goes through much faster. But for some reason, if you choose the English option, it seems like the majority of technicians are someplace in India.

I have nothing against the Indian people. In fact, I have a couple of very good friends who are from India--a long time ago. But when I want an answer to why a certain software program won't work the way they tell me it should work, I want somebody that I can understand, and who can figure out what I'm talking about.

Well, today is Memorial Day. I was volunteering at the Amberg (WI) Historical Society's Museum complex as a tour guide from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. Shortly after noon two cars pulled up in front of the museum and a group of foreign-looking young people got out and made their way into the main museum building. They took their time in there, and then they came to the old town hall building where I was giving the tours. The first young man came in, and I asked him where they were from. That is a common question, as the museum gets visitors from all over the country. He replied, "I live in Chicago, but I'm originally from India." Yes! It was that same accent I had heard on all of those technical calls! I asked him what he did in Chicago, and he replied, "I am a software technician--you know, a troubleshooter."

I couldn't help it. I just had to ask. "You mean when I call that toll free number because I can't figure out your software and I get some guy that, when I ask him where he is from, answers 'India,' and it is really you--sitting at a desk in Chicago?"

The poor fellow. I thought he was never going to quit laughing. But at least I felt a whole lot better, knowing that at least some of those calls are going to people right here in the good old U.S.A.!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Pancakes--for the soul

2009-05-19T09:38:00.003-05:00

Yes, pancakes. When I was a kid at home, we had pancakes for breakfast every day except Sunday. My dad swore that he got a migraine headache if he didn't have pancakes to start the day out. Sunday, however, was Mother's day, and we got to have whatever she wanted. I never could figure out why Daddy had a headache some days even when we had pancakes. I finally asked him. His reply was, "I guess I didn't eat enough of them." Anyway, I have always thought of pancakes as my "comfort food." After a hard day, nothing soothes my nerves like a stack of them on my plate. I don't even have to have ham or bacon or sausage with them to make them do their job.

Back in 1996, right after Ivan had lost his leg, our daughter Raquel and I stopped at the Village Inn on our way up to the hospital one day. The waiter was a fellow we had gotten to "know," just by our trips to the restaurant. We had exchanged small talk with him many times, but didn't really "know" him up close and personal--until that day. I ordered pancakes and explained to him about Ivan being in the hospital. He then told us that it was probably the last time he would be serving us, as he was leaving the next week for college in Texas. He was going to be studying jazz music. Jokingly, I asked him if he would write down his name "so we can watch for your CD when it comes out--after you get famous." He grabbed a napkin and scribbled his name on it. We knew that his first name was Jeremy, but what a surprise to discover that his last name was Hallett. That was my maiden name! A bit of delving into our pasts quickly assured us that we were indeed distant cousins.

Anyway, other things over the years, especially since Ivan's death, have offered me that same feeling of comfort that I get from pancakes. Last night was a perfect example of that. When we were in Grand Forks (ND), we often kept the radio on, tuned to KFNW, the Christian radio station, as we crawled into bed, especially on cold winter nights, and we would listen to Bill Pearce on Night Sounds. If you have never heard the program, check it out in your area. He has the most soothing voice I've ever heard. The only problem was that he often would lull us to sleep before the end of the program and in the morning we would ask each other, "Did you hear what he said all the way through?" It was seldom that either of us did, but it was a good feeling.

When I moved to northeast Wisconsin, I was delighted to find a new Christian radio station. It is WRVM, which stands for Wisconsin Radio Voice of the Master. The local people seem real friendly. I have even met one of them a couple of times. Yes, it is Michael Fletcher, whose picture is up at the top there. We have met at a couple of the music programs the radio station has sponsored at the Cup O' Joy Coffeehouse in Green Bay WI. I even gave him a copy of one of my books, which I don't think he has read yet, but since he is on the air early in the morning and late at night many days, I have decided to overlook that. After all, it is a Christmas book, so he has plenty of time...

And, Bill Pearce and Night Sounds is also on WRVM, and it is late enough that I turn it on when I crawl into bed, and yes, I often fall asleep before the end of the program. But last night, for some reason, I stayed with it for the full half hour. He was talking about "stuff." You know, the things that fill our garages and our attics and we haven't used it in 25 years or more, but we still leave it there. Bill talked about all the traps we fall into as far as buying things we don't really need. Yes, he even confessed to doing the same thing himself. I was feeling fairly self-righteous, as I had to get rid of a whole lot of "stuff" before I moved. Then I mentally traveled around my new house and I realized that I had not only kept a lot of the "stuff" from my previous life, but I had accumulated quite a bit more "stuff" after I moved here, which is just over a year ago. I vowed to be more careful about what else I buy, which isn't that hard right now since I have to pay the pre-buy gas bill for the entire year by the end of May.

I left the radio on for a bit after Night Sounds ended, and then I fell asleep. When I woke up, some other fellow was talking. I don't know who it was, but I caught him just as he said, "Seek righteousness first, then all these other things will be added onto you." It didn't take me long to shut the radio off. I didn't really need a new excuse to start all over with more "stuff," no matter how righteous I felt!

So, my comfort zone got invaded. I started out feeling like I'd just had a stack of pancakes, and it quickly turned into an overdose of too much maple syrup on top of it!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Idea makers

2009-05-04T17:48:00.003-05:00

People often ask writers where they get their ideas. It is such a basic part of an author's life that it hardly bears giving an answer. I have always figured that real life is indeed stranger than fiction. All a person has to do is to keep their eyes and ears open, and they will soon find their brains filled with far more ideas than they have time to write about. I can't begin to tell you how many columns I have written were born at the Red Lobster when Ivan and I would eat there. Now, living in Small Town USA I have to resort to the gossip at THE local cafe. Yes, there is only one.

However, this week has been proof that having kids helps too, especially if your kids are as "inventive" with their lives as mine are. Our daughter, who runs her own photography business, is the "appointed" photographer for the drag queen events in the Red River Valley of Minnesota and North Dakota. And you thought they were a bunch of old farmers that never did anything exciting or unusual! And this weekend she went to a concert in Fargo for Elton John and Billy Joel. Yup, life in rural America!

Today my oldest son called me from Las Vegas. He was laughing, as he had been reading the latest book by Tim Dorsey, his favorite author. He said he found the best quote he has ever read. It is: "Coleman, there are three- and only three- kinds of people in this world: Those who don't know they're damaged and blame others; those who realize they're damaged and blame others; and then people like you and me, who wear damage like comfortable pajamas."
Coleman swigged from his pint bottle. "Mine are the ones with the little feet."

I have to agree. That's a pretty good one. Then he went on to sort of nonchalantly mention that the "biker chick" he had taken some pictures of was a finalist for a "spread" in a pretty big biker magazine. I didn't ask a lot of questions. If she makes it into the magazine, he gets some pretty decent money out of it. And since things are pretty slow these days in Las Vegas (he is a Union audio/visual technician), he has been doing pretty well with his side-line business he has started. What is he doing? Making barbecue grills out of things like hot water tanks and old bathtubs. The strangest part of it is, he is actually selling them.

Then there is our youngest, who lives in New Orleans. He is wheeling and dealing to try to make his dream come true--having his own swanky Italian restaurant. He is tossing figures of millions of dollars around as unimpressed as if he was working for the government. I wish him the best. He's had way more than his share of trials in his life, so he's long overdue for some good news. When it happens, I'll let you all know so you can stop in for a scrumptious meal. He is a fantastic chef, having studied "real" Italian cooking (living with Italian families) for a while. He also learned a lot from his dad, who could outdo a lot of the big names on getting creative in the kitchen.

Oh, and lest I forget, I have a gal who lives in Clifford, North Dakota (population practically non-existant) who has adopted me as her "mom." She runs a floral business and she wanted some help with her website. She sounds like your typical "country farmer's wife," right? Well, she would be, except she used to be a Playboy bunny. Her husband went to Las Vegas on vacation a few years back and rescued her by taking her "back to the farm." She's a real sweetheart and the two of them plan to come to visit me this summer--on their motorcycle.

So, now that the home base has been put back in its place, I suppose I really should see if I can conjure up a new idea for another book. You know, try to figure out where I can find something worth writing about.

I hope you all have a creative day too!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

George, are you pulling my leg?

2009-04-15T19:54:00.003-05:00

Twitter. It seems like everybody from news commentators to comedians, and most everybody in between them, is talking about it these days. I had refrained from joining up because as you know, if you follow my blog, I frequently forget that a blogger must blog. I knew, basically, that a Twitter-er is supposed to tweet, and I figured that was one more thing I didn't have to worry about. But that was then, and this is now.

I was all a-Twitter when I got a notification in my mailbox the other day from somebody saying that they were following me on Twitter, and they invited me to follow them as well. I immediately recognized the name, even though I would not have known how to spell it except that it was in the e-mail invitation. I was sure it was somebody playing a prank or a practical joke on me. Why on earth would George Stephanopoulas want to follow me? I could see him wanting to build the numbers up for his followers, but it was a puzzle as to why he would pick me, or how he even found me.

Well, I decided to put on my Sherlock Holmes cap and grab my trusty little magnifying glass and investigate a bit farther. I clicked through on the link, and it SAID he was George Stephanopoulas (see? I'm even learning how to spell it!) and it even had the link going directly to the ABC network Twitter place. It seemed legitimate.

In case you don't know who George Stephanopoulas is, he's that dashing young fellow you see on Sunday mornings talking to all the big shot politicians and financial advisors etc. Or you can catch him as the "expert" on Good Morning America quite often. He is in Washington DC, so I suppose by now he has met Bo, the newest member of the Obama family up close and personal.

So, now my only question is this: George, I'm extremely flattered, but I want to know the rest of the story. Paul Harvey is gone, but his memory lingers on, and I'd like you to pick up where he left off and fill in the blanks for me. How did you find me, and why do you want to follow me, and where will you take me since I did click on and I am now following you. I can only hope that you have a Google Alert set up so you know that I'm onto you! You can run, but you can't hide, not once you have bared your soul on Twitter.

You can either post a comment here, or if you would rather keep it under wraps, you can email me privately at janetelainesmith@yahoo.com, or if you prefer, you can just tweet at me. I'll be watching and waiting.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

M-m good--That's what Campbell's Soup is

2009-02-26T21:28:00.003-06:00

On a cold, blustery winter day, there is nothing that conjures up a feeling of warmth and security like a hot bowl of soup--Campbell's Soup, of course. It is just one of those "comfort foods" that make you feel warm from the inside out.

Since they were predicting a major storm for northern Wisconsin (and they were right), it seemed quite fitting that a newsletter I get on marketing started today's message with the following:
The question for me is how do we convert business into a
form of fun and sharing and stretching and fulfillment that
is as touchable as graduating summa cum laude? That's when
you get the buy in. That's when people say 'I'm going to do
incredible things.'

-- David Johnson, former CEO of Campbell Soup

"Show, don't tell." How many times have you heard that? OK, let me show you how to have a bit of fun.

Last evening I was just sitting down to eat my supper when the phone rang. It was a representative from my health insurance company. He said they needed some information for their files on my current health condition, and did I have a few minutes to answer his questions. I said I did, figuring I could chew in between the questions. He gave me enough information that I knew he was legitimate, not just a telemarketer.

As he began to ask me a few questions, he yawned several times. I commented on the fact that he sounded tired.
"You are my last call of the day," he admitted, "and it's been a very long day."
I told him I would try to be easy on him, and when he came to the question, "Do you have any hearing problems?" I laughed a bit and replied, "Huh? What did you say? Could you repeat that please? I didn't quite hear you."
He began to repeat the question, a little bit louder, and I laughed. Suddenly he caught on and he laughed too and he said, "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?" I told him that was sort of hard to do through the phone.

The whole feeling of the phone call changed at that moment. He began to ask me more questions, and I decided to have a little more fun with him, so when he asked me, "Do you have any indication of Alzheimer's or loss of memory?" I answered, "I don't think so, but I can't remember for sure." Again, he laughed.

"Are you always like this?" he asked.
"Like what?" I asked, sounding oh-so-innocent. Again, he laughed. I noticed that he wasn't yawning any more.

When we finished the question and answer session, he said, "Thank you. You really made this fun. I wish I could take your entertainment home with me."

"Oh, but you can!" I said quickly.

"How?"

So, I asked him if he was sitting by his computer. He said that he was, and I asked him if he could get onto Amazon.com. He said he could, but why should he do that? I asked him if he trusted me to show him how to continue letting me entertain him. He said, "After this long, I guess I can trust you." He chuckled and said, "Besides, I see here that you are old enough to be my mother."

He pulled up Amazon and asked, "Now what?" I told him to do a search for Janet Elaine Smith. It pulled up all of my books (including a few that are from rotten old publishers that are out-of-print but that will probably still be on Amazon years after I'm dead and gone).

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "Did you really write all of these?"
I told him that I had, and he asked me which ones were the most fun. I told him my Patrick and Grace Mysteries have a wackly old couple of sleuths from New York City and the first one in the series is a great read for right now, with St. Patrick's Day just around the corner. He was silent for a few seconds, then he asked, "What's this Pampers one."
I laughed. "It's not a baby book," I explained. "Pampas is a region of Argentina and the book has a lot of intrigue and mystery and adventure, with a sort of out-of-place cowboy who is sort of like the sauce in the Pace Picante Sauce commercial." He asked me what I meant, and I said, "Well, he looked like any other Argentine cowboy--called a gaucho--but he was really from New Yawk City."
Again, he was laughing.
"OK," he said, "I had better get going or I'll be late and miss my dinner when I get home. My wife doesn't like to keep it waiting in the oven too long. I ordered all four of them. And thank you for making me laugh. What a great way to end a very long day."
I said, "You're welcome, and if you want to contact me in the future, my e-mail address is at the end of the books."
"I think I'll give the mysteries to my wife as a surprise for St. Patrick's Day." Again, he laughed. "She'll wonder what the deal is. I never gave her a St. Patrick's Day present before."
"Just tell her you are starting a new tradition," I suggested.
"Great idea. Again, thanks for the fun."

I think that's what the Campbell's Soup CEO was talking about.
Now, get out there and sell your books--and have fun while you work at it.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Happy Birthday, George Beverly Shea!

2009-02-22T21:20:00.006-06:00

He is probably one of the best known gospel singers around. He has sung with Billy Graham at his crusades all around the world for many years. He wrote the music to the song I'd Rather Have Jesus. He made the hymn How Great Thou Art a household sound in many homes. And he recently celebrated his 100th birthday.

Today several people from our little church, Interfaith Bible Fellowship, in Amberg Wisconsin went to a nursing home in Crivitz, about a 20 mile drive. The activity director of the facility did a fantastic job of having everybody in the activity room waiting for us. I had been invited along to play the piano. Since I don't have my own piano anymore (read the blog on it a bit farther down), I enjoy it when I do get a chance to play. Dave Pompo, the minister, had asked me to pick out some oldtime familiar hymns the residents were apt to know. They enjoyed it so much we sang far more than we would have in our own regular church service. Old favorites like In the Garden, When the Roll is Called Up Yonder, Amazing Grace, The Old Rugged Cross, Jesus Loves Me, and as we finished singing How Great Thou Art we shared the fact with these elderly members of the community that it had recently been George Beverly Shea's 100th birthday, so we wished him a happy birthday. They all knew who he was, although one of them said, "I thought he was dead." It was a wonderful time of sharing, but that was just the end of an already good day.

When the minister and his wife began to make plans for the service, they called and asked if they could eat lunch at my house. It made perfect sense, because they live quite a ways in the opposite direction and there was not time for them to go home and then come back again. They made it a very gracious invitation by saying that the pastor would make his famous spaghetti and bring it, and his wife would make the salad. I said I would provide Texas garlic toast, jello and the beverage.

A little while later they called back and said that they were going to pick up a woman, Maureen, who has recently had her leg amputated. I have gotten to know her fairly well, as Ivan (my late husband) had his leg amputated in 1995, so while I haven't lived through that experience, I have lived with it. They wanted to know if it would be ok if she came to dinner too. I said "The more the merrier."

Again, about an hour later, the phone rang and they said that Pixie, a woman who had attended the church but who had moved away last fall, was going to try to make it to church and she wanted to go to the nursing home too, so would it be ok if she came to dinner too? Oh, and they didn't know for sure but she might be bringing the children she was taking care of with her. (They didn't end up coming, but Pixie did.)I figured that since they were furnishing most of the food, I had no problem with it.

So, everything was set. I would have somewhere between five to who-knew-how-many people for dinner, but I didn't have to cook it, so it was fine. I had plenty of dishes!

Pixie came to church, as did Maureen, and I rode home with our neighbors from across the road from me so I could go ahead and get the table set, the coffee made, the bread stuck in the oven, etc. As we pulled into the driveway, Margaret (my neighbor) said, "Whose car is that? It looks like Cathy's." Yup, it was my friend Cathy, who goes to a different church but who is often bored on Sundays. She had no idea of what was going on, so I waved to her to come into the house. She said she just brought me some magazines she had finished reading and they were in the doorway. I told her she might as well come in. When she got inside, I told her what was going on, so I invited her to join us. She did, and I wondered if anybody else would come. There was plenty of food if they did, but they didn't.

At any rate, we had a delightful dinner, and they even helped wash the dishes after we ate, so I came home to a nice neat house. Oh, and Maureen brought peanut butter cookies she and her grandchildren had made. It was the perfect finish to the meal.

Anyway, it was a wonderful day. Oh, and it was so cute at the nursing home. There were two women there named Irene, so Toni, the minister's wife, asked me if I could play Good Night Irene. I did, and we sang it. One of the Irene's apparently enjoyed it, but the other one was heard to remark, "I hate that song." When Toni asked her why, she said, "Because it has my name in it!" Well, you know what they say. You can please some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can't please all of the people all of the time.

The picture above is (Seated, left to right: Cathy, Janet, Pixie; Standing in the back row: Dave and Toni Pompo).

I hope your Sunday was as much fun as mine was. Now, go out there and make it a great week!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

A true romance

2009-02-13T19:21:00.004-06:00

Happy Valentine's Day!
Anybody who has ever been in love has a sweet story of their own to tell. The one I am about to tell you did not happen on Valentine's Day. It was on a hot summer day in Grand Forks, North Dakota. To me, it spells L-O-V-E in a way we seldom see it.

My late husband Ivan and I often went to a certain fast food restaurant in the summer, mainly because they had their air conditioning set lower than almost anybody else in town. We had a cup we had gotten from them a couple of years before this incident happened. We were cheap, but we did at least buy some little thing to eat along with the free refill of coffee we got when we bought our own mug in, which proudly bore their logo. The other reason we went was that it gave us a chance to get away from the hectic activities of running the HELP line at Mission Socorro, the charitable organization we ran. It helped keep burnout at bay.

There was another young couple that came in almost as often as we did. We were not sure if they were a brother and sister, good friends, or a real "couple." I am not sure exactly what the politically correct term is for such people now. Back a few years they were considered "somewhat retarded." I think now we are supposed to say they are "mentally challenged."

Grand Forks had a population of about 50,000 people, but it was still small enough that certain people had their routines so down-pat that everybody knew where certain people would be, and when. These two young people were able to hold down a job. They worked at two separate restaurants as dishwashers. We had heard that they never missed a day of work, were never late, and never complained about anything. We had speculated that they probably lived at a group home somewhere, but that was just a guess. They seldom took the bus unless it was extremely cold or raining really hard. They walked wherever they went.

When the servers at this restaurant would see them coming, they would run out to the counters by the coffee pot and quickly gather up all but about 4 of the little containers of cream and run them back to the kitchen. Why? This couple would go over and get a glass of water and empty as many of the creamers as there were out there into the water, would mix it up, then they would sit there for sometimes over an hour, drinking their "free milk."

This particular evening, when we went in, they were sitting in a corner booth, but oh my! How different they looked! She was dolled up ina formal that looked like it probably came from the "Playhouse" at the local thrift shop where they had old vintage clothes for theater productions, etc. She also sported a big floppy-brimmed hat. He had a suit jacket with mismatched pants--and his tennis shoes. Oh, and he had a very wide, loud necktie. They had broken down and ordered food--and they were drinking a soda.

We watched, wondering what was going on. We asked the servers and they had no idea, but they were chuckling at them. After a little while he reached out and took her hands in his. They were talking too softly for anybody to hear what they were saying.

Finally, my curiosity got the best of me. I went over and said, trying to sound interested but not just nosy, "It looks like it must be a special occasion. We have seen you in here so many times I feel like we almost know you. Can you tell me what you are celebrating?"

They both beamed. They welcomed the intrusion--or interest. Finally, he replied, "It is our anniversary. We were married five years ago today."

I congratulated them, wishing them many more years of happiness together. Then I went back and told Ivan what I had found out. We contemplated what we could do for them, then we came up with a plan. I went over and talked to the servers on duty. We called Hugo's, the Piggly Wiggly store across the street from the restaurant, and asked them if they had a cake they could decorate. They said they could, so we asked them to write "Happy Anniversary" on it. We had no idea what their names were, so we didn't have it personalized. One of the servers volunteered to go pick it up, so we gave him enough money for the cake--and a couple of candles so they could "dine by candlelight."

By the time he had come back with it, I had gone around to the few other people that were in the restaurant and quietly told them what was going on and we set our plan in motion. The servers came out with the cake and the candles. They set the candles on their table and lit them, then set the cake down and handed them a knife to cut it. They had a couple of styrofoam containers for them to put their cake in. Everybody in the restaurant gathered around them and we sang the heartiest "Happy Anniversary" you have ever heard in your life. It didn't matter how off key anybody was. We didn't pretend to be the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Our young couple had never glowed more in their life, other than perhaps the day they were married. The rest of us? There wasn't a dry eye in the place. When we finished singing, the bride spoke up and asked one of the servers if they could get some more of the styrofoam containers so they could share their cake--and their special day--with all of their friends.

It doesn't matter what shape or size or time love comes into our lives. It is the best thing we have this side of heaven! Happy Valentine's Day! Enjoy the one you love.

One tiny P.S. to the story. We noticed that the servers never went and removed the creamers after that when they saw the young couple come in.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

A Merry Christmas gift to you

2008-12-22T20:38:00.004-06:00
Several years ago the Federated Church back in Grand Forks ND asked my late husband Ivan and me to write a short story to read at their Christmas Eve service. The following is what resulted. I hope it will help you all stop all of your hustling and bustling for a few minutes to reflect on what Christmas is all about. Oh, and have fun!
Janet (and Ivan, in absentia)

This is free for church or family use only, and is not to be sold.

THE THREE WISE GUYS
By Ivan and Janet Smith

The faded plastic angel perched high above the forest of cut trees. Deeply tucked inside was a matching creche, defying anyone to remove it. It had just survived a legal battle with the ACLU. It had a right to be there; the sign high above the building in the background declared “YMCA.” If a Young Men’s Christian Association couldn’t house the true symbol of Christmas, who could?
A smaller sign, hand printed, read “Y’s Men’s Christmas Trees: $20.00.” It was only ten days before Christmas and according to tradition, the price would be lowered a dollar a day from now on.
“Come on, guys!” the teenage boy shouted to his two buddies. “The coast is clear!”
They headed straight for the manger, not caring that they trampled the trees as they went.
“Come on, let’s take the baby and put him on the roof!”
Brian, the leader of the gang, tossed the little image to Mark, the youngest and smallest member of the group. “You’re the quickest,” Brian said. “The fire escape is out back. Go for it!”
Mark obediently ran to the back of the building and began to climb the ladder.
“Hey! Stop!” The cop seemed to come out of nowhere, but his blinding flashlight hit Mark square in the eyes, causing him to drop the baby Jesus to the ground.
Brian and Ricky ran—right smack dab into the cop’s partner!
“In a hurry?” he asked them, laughing. “Afraid you might miss Santa?”
“Ain’t no Santa!” Ricky said.
“And you ain’t no angel,” the cop said, still laughing. “Come on, boys. I think we better take a trip downtown. By the way, you guys got names?”
“Yeah,” Brian replied sarcastically. “We’re the three wise guys.” He tried hard to laugh, but Ricky and Mark didn’t join him in the joke.
The policemen helped the boys into the back seat of the squad car. They sat, silently, staring through the wire divider between them and the officers.
Brian rubbed his fingers against the palms of his hands. They had never been so sweaty. But, he had never been in this situation before. Oh, sure, he’d done plenty of things wrong. But this was different. This time he’d gotten caught.
“Okay, everybody out,” one of the cops said. He opened the door and poked Mark in the back, steering him toward the steps up to the police station.
At least they didn’t handcuff us, Mark thought. If anybody saw them…
Inside, an old gray haired policeman sat, gazing at them with daggers in his eyes.
“What’d you guys do?” he growled at them. They didn’t answer.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asked. “I said, what’d you do?”
“We stole the baby Jesus,” Ricky said, his hands shaking in front of him.
The policeman’s mouth dropped open. He sat, speechless, for several moments. “You stole the baby Jesus?” he repeated, shouting accusingly at them. “That’s the worst crime we’ve ever had!” He shook his head, clicked his tongue and reached for the phone.
“Judge Walker? It’s Joe, down at the station. I hate to get you out this late at night, but we’ve got three juvies down here I think you should take a look at.”
He listened while the boys glanced at each other. The image of a black-robed figure danced in their heads. It was not the Nutcracker Suite! In fact, it wasn’t sweet at all.
“They stole the baby Jesus,” the cop said.
The boys fidgeted. The old cop looked at them, shook his head again and said “He’s on his way.”

The judge, who looked more like Santa Claus than a scary legal character, studied the boys, his eyes moving from one to the other, then back again.
“Do you know what you have done?” he asked, his voice bellowing. Dead silence followed. “I asked you if you know what you’ve done?” he asked again, his voice even louder than before.
“We stole the baby Jesus,” Ricky said, not daring to look up.
“And what do you think God would think of that?” Judge Walker asked.
The boys had never given much thought to God, but this was a pretty good time to change that.
“And what about your parents?” the judge continued. “What will they say when I call them to come down here to get you?”
Brian’s face turned as white as new-fallen snow. If the thought of God scared them, the thought of his mother and father finding out what he had done was even worse. He didn’t know God, but he knew full well how his parents would react. He would be grounded for the rest of his life!
“I’m not going to lock you up,” Judge Walker said. “Instead, I want all three of you—together—to do one good deed for someone every day. You will have to report back to me in nine days—on Christmas eve. You have to have proof of what you have done.”

“Well, boys,” Judge Walker said, sitting behind his huge desk clad in his black robe. “How did you do?”
He did not seem at all surprised when they began to relate the acts they had completed during the last few days.
“We helped old Mrs. Green carry her groceries home the first day,” Ricky said.
“The second day we saw a little girl fall on the ice. There was a car coming right behind her,” Mark said.
“We got there just in time,” Brian said, a big smile on his face. “Boy, that was a close one!”
“The third day we shoveled the church sidewalks after it snowed,” Brian said. “Here, we got everybody to sign a note after we helped them.” He shoved a pile of little square papers onto the judge’s desk.
“The fourth day we took care of Mrs. Parson’s little boy while she took the new baby to the doctor,” Mark said.
“The fifth day we walked Mrs. Hunt’s cats. She broke her leg, so she couldn’t do it herself,” Mark said.
“Yeah! And she was so happy about it that she hired us to do it every day,” Ricky said.
“We didn’t think it would count if we got paid,” Brian said. “So the sixth day we walked the cat and then we went to school early so we could help our home room teacher.”
“The seventh day we went to the old folks’ home and visited a lot of the people,” Mark said. “I think they liked it.” He smiled as he said, “We only got ten of them to sign the notes.”
“The eighth day we went to the church and helped decorate it for the Christmas program,” Ricky said. “It looked real pretty.”
“Then we got to the ninth day,” Brian said. “We knew it was the last day we had to do something good, so we wanted to make it extra good.”
Judge Walker waited until they all started talking at once. “Hold on!” he said, banging his gavel on the desk. “One at a time or I don’t have a clue what you’re saying.”
“Go on,” Ricky and Mark said to Brian. “You’re the boss.”
“We took the money Mrs. Hunt had paid us and we bought one of the Christmas trees from the Y. You know, the “Y’s Guys trees.” He laughed. “See? I told the cop we were the three Wise Guys!”
“What did you do with the tree?” Judge Walker asked.
“We took it over to the juvenile center. One of the kids in school said they didn’t have one.”
“We didn’t get anything signed,” Ricky said. “We didn’t want them to know it was from us.”
“Now you know the real meaning of Christmas,” Judge Walker said. “It is not only giving, it is giving from the heart. Not because you have to, but because you want to. I’m proud of you, boys.”
“We asked the Y’s Guys—the other ones,” Brian said, “if we can help them down at the Y Center after school. He said they’d be glad to have us.”
“Yeah, they’re going to give us a membership so we can swim and everything!” Mark said.
“But we’ll be sure to leave the baby Jesus alone,” Ricky said. “I don’t think He needs our help.”
“I think He’s already got it,” the judge said, standing up and walking towards his chambers. “Oh, and Merry Christmas, boys!”
“Merry Christmas,” the boys said in unison.
As soon as the judge was out of sight, they looked at each other and nodded. Then, unseen, they took out a can of Lemon Scented Pledge and began to polish the judge’s desk.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the most requested article I've ever written, please go here to share my first Christmas in Venezuela.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Last minute gift rescues

2008-12-17T19:10:00.004-06:00
These are a few of my favorite things...
OK, so I don't sound quite like Julie Andrews, but The Sound of Music is one of my very favorite movies. It's pretty much a tie between that one and Brigadoon. And that first line up there, as you probably recognize, is from The Sound of Music.

It probably won't come as any surprise that one of my favorite things is a good book. You can't go wrong with that as a gift. One size fits all. If it is especially good, you can read it over and over again. I don't advise that you loan it out, no matter how good the friend is, though, as books have a way of disappearing, just like they do at the public library.

So, in the interest of coming to your rescue, here are a few of some of the best books I have read this year. I know there are a lot of others out there too, and I don't mean to slight any of the other fine authors who have risen onto the horizon this year, but I am drawing the line at just a few. It's always hard to pick and choose, so I don't want to overwhelm you by offering too many. Some of them will be listed by book titles, but a few others will be by author, as they have more than one that fits on my "favorites" list.

Billie A. Williams has numerous books out. I admit that I haven't read all of them, but of those I have read, here are my top picks:
Knapsack Secrets--a woman who is a success suddenly finds herself homeless. When she teams up with another homeless woman (Valentine--my favorite character) and a young teenager, tragedy strikes, but can they find a way out? The scene with the tennis shoes is priceless! This was my favorite of her books until I read...
Ghost Music of Vaudeville--The Keith Theater in Ironwood Michigan is doomed for destruction, but Charlie, a crime reporter for the local newspaper, agrees to temporarily "adopt" a teenage boy, Tommy, while his mother goes off to fight in the war in Iraq. Tommy is a friend of Piano Man, who has been the heart and soul of the Vaudeville acts in the old theater. Can he find a way to breathe life into the theater one last time before the wrecking ball strikes. And where does Bette Midler suddenly fit into the picture?

The Kahills of Willow Walk, by S.K. Hamilton is a brilliant work that will have you scrambling through the hills of Wheeling, West Virginia as Kat makes her move to the big fashion picture in New York City, and discovers that there is more corruption than she ever imagined. Arson, black cats and the adorable Granddad Jedediah weave a magical spell on the reader.

Scarecrow in Grey--by Barry Yelton is a Civil War novel that will have you cheering for the underdog. Laced with a bit of humor amidst the conflict, this is a true delight. The hero in the book faces the enemy with no fear when it is demanded. Friendship, loss, and even rabbits make this one a tale you won't soon forget.

Storm--by Joyce Anthony. It is hard to fit this one into any particular mold. The closest I can come is to call it a "spiritual fantasy." Known only as "Storm," the main character will lead you down the railroad of life and it will change the way you look at those around you forever. Reading this book is truly a life-altering event.

The Savannah River Dolphins--by Muriel Lindsay is a young adult book that will have you smiling before you even open the cover. There is something loving about dolphins, and Ms. Lindsay has dedicated her life to studying--and befriending--these creatures. Truly a delight, no matter what your age.

Alice Duncan--I discovered Alice many years ago, when she was writing for Berkley's Homespun imprint. I have read every book she has published since then (probably about 25 years ago), and I can honestly say that I've never met an Alice Duncan book I didn't enjoy. Her Daisy Gumm books, however, are my favorites, and just in time for Christmas the third one in the series, High Spirits, is out. Daisy is married to a disabled war veteran, and it is up to her to provide the living for her family. She does so by posing as a fortune teller, and she gets into more pickles than you'll find in a bottle of Heinz gherkins. The first two books in the series (Strong Spirits and Fine Spirits) are unfortunately out of print, but if you look hard enough you can find them as used books. They are well worth the effort.

OK, that's it for now. There are tons of others out there, but this will get you started. And if you should happen to stumble across a Janet Elaine Smith book that strikes your fancy, that's fine with me too. With the early onset to a harsh winter this year, including snow in Hollywood, Texas and New Orleans, if you want to escape to a warmer climate, check out Pampas. It will take you to the heart of Argentina, and the heart of a very strange gaucho.

Happy shopping, and Merry Christmas!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

My Review of Only Necessities; Holiday motif fleece tunic

2008-12-09T07:59:00.003-06:00

Originally submitted at WomanWithin
in seasonal colors enhances your festivities with our exclusive applique designs with a touch of glitter.
Side slits; 30" long
Polyester/cotton
Machine wash
USA or imported
Sizes:
M(14W-16W), L(18W-20W), 1X(22W-24W), 2X(26W-28W), 3X(30W-...

A Red Hat Deal
By Janet Elaine Smith, best-selling author from Amberg, WI on 12/9/2008

5out of 5
Sizing: Feels true to size
Pros: High Quality, Attractive Design, Comfortable, Flattering
Best Uses: Travel, Going Out, Casual Wear
Describe Yourself: Practical, Stylish, Comfort-oriented
I am a member of a Red Hat Society group in WI. I ordered the purple one with 3 holiday gifts on it, as we all have to wear purple, so the new holiday sweatshirt is perfect. As an author, I love the 3 gift packages on the shirt, as when I present each of them with a copy of one of my books as my Christmas gift to them, I can tell them where I got the sweatshirt too. It is Christmas for everybody!
My Christmas Wish for all my friends
(legalese)
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Well, shiver yer timbers!

2008-11-24T16:35:00.002-06:00
If you want a real spine-tingling mystery, I have one that is just up your alley. Ancient Secrets, Billie A. Williams' latest book in her "Secrets" series will have you hanging onto the edge of your seat, but watch out, you might get burned!

An eerie necklace from long ago and far away, wrapped in a wild-animal print scarf holds the key to ancient mysteries. Soon you will be enrapt as you watch green-eyed jealous people have their eyes pop out of their sockets, exploding heads of a woman who is jealous and more than a little bit zany, a woman in a coma after she handled the necklace, a foreign exchange student who wants to get the necklace back to where it originally came from, and a duo that seem to be protected as they trace the history all the way back to Africa because they have "good hearts."

This will scare you as much as any Stephen King book, but you won't dare set it down until you close the last page, because the sky might fall, or they might end up in the pit of snakes, or... Well, just read the book! But don't do it unless you have all the bright lights on!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Ciao! Roma is on the menu today

2008-10-23T16:03:00.002-05:00
I am please to host Jo Lindsell on her blog tour today. Please come on in and see what's happening in her part of the world.

Jo Lindsell Interview

Welcome to my blog, Jo. It’s a delight to have you here today. After your long hiatus, first, may I congratulate you on the birth of your little guy. I have seen pictures of him and he’s adorable.

OK, now, let’s get down to business. I hope you don’t mind if I get “up close and personal” for a bit to start things off. It is, at least to me, incredibly romantic to be living in Italy. My youngest son visited there several years ago, near Venice, and he loved it. How did you decide to move from England to Italy?

I opened a map of the world, closed my eyes and my finger landed on Italy. As Rome is the Capital I decided to go there first. Crazy but true. I’d originally decided to stay a few days and then travel to other places in Europe but I fell in love with the city and decided to stay. It was actually a lot easier to do than you’d think.

You do a lot of networking, and your Writers and Authors activities are such a big boost to all of us authors whom you have hosted for one thing or another. Did your move to Italy influence your networking? It has to be much faster (and cheaper) than using snail mail to reach people in both the US and the UK.

I started writing fulltime after moving to Italy but I’m sure I would have done a lot of networking even living in the UK. Networking through the internet is a great marketing tool and means that writers can promote their books and communicate worldwide for free. It’s much faster and cheaper…even for reaching people in Italy.

You have what you call “The Italian Home Studies.” Can you tell us a bit about what all they involve?

The Italian Home Study Series is a collection of reference and practice ebooks for self-study. In the case of home schooling, parents may find it useful as additional course material.
The ebooks are designed for beginners, although they can also serve as a basis for revision and practice.
Each unit deals with a different topic area and is organized into sections; introduction—including a pronunciation guide and explanation of the Italian alphabet, information lists and examples, questions and answer key.
As this is the first series and designed for beginners it deals with the basics in both subject and grammar and introduces vocabulary.
I plan to do series for intermediate and advanced in the future.

I plan to write a time travel—one day—that takes place primarily in Italy. It involves around the opera scenario. Can you give us some tips on the best way to do research on Italian sites, etc.?

Obviously the best way to do it is to visit the sites in person, especially if you want to describe them in a book as in this case it’s not just what you see but also what you hear and smell that will create the clear picture for your readers. However, if this isn’t possible I suggest searching the internet for good sites with photos. Visiting the following sites may be helpful http://www.italiantourism.com/ for general information, the website for each city e.g. www.comune.roma.it. Another option is to interview people who have been there in person or to check out blogs about Italy e.g. http://astheromansdo.blogspot.com

In keeping with the last question, you have a book out on the Italian language. Does it contain just single words, or do you also have common phrases, etc. included? I am assuming that this would help any author that is using snippets of Italian in their books?

“Italian for Tourists” is exactly what the title indicates. It contains all the words and phrases a tourist is likely to need when visiting Italy. It also explains the Italian alphabet and has a pronunciation guide which may come in handy for authors writing dialogue for Italian characters.

Who publishes your books, and where are they available for purchase?

My books are published using lulu.com and are available for purchase from http://www.lulu.com/jolinsdell

How are your books distributed, and do you find any particular challenges in their sales, since you live in Europe and many of the authors with whom you network are in the US?

My books are currently only available through lulu.com. This means they are available for global distribution; however, my sales are limited as they can only be purchased directly through the lulu site. This will be changing in the near future however, as I plan to get them into bookshops and on major sites like Amazon in the new year.

Just prior to your pregnancy, you moved to a different apartment, if I remember right. What is a typical house or apartment like in the part of Italy where you live. I’m sure not everybody lives in one of those beautiful villas or castles. Do you see yourself ever living in one of them?

I see myself living in them all the time…in my dreams  Whenever we go to the beach (which is only about an hour away) we pass the most beautiful villas with swimming pools in the gardens and say “when we win the lottery we’ll have one like that.”
I live in Rome and as is the way with most capital cities, most people live in apartments. If you move further away from the centre you can find villas though.
My apartment is pretty typical really; large lounge and kitchen, bathroom (I’m lucky as I have both a bath and shower. A lot of apartments only have a shower. The bath was one of the things I was most happy about when we moved). We also have a large bedroom and a small room which has now become the nursery. We live on the 7th floor of an apartment block (this is the average height of apartment blocks although you can find ones that have up to 15 floors). We have quite a big balcony, which is great as the weather is good for most of the year and means we can eat outside too. It’s like having an extra room.

Will you tell us, briefly, what all you are trying to do with the authors’ services you are offering?

My main goal is to learn as much as I can about the writing industry and while doing so I figured I could help others do the same. I’m always looking for ways to promote myself and my work especially in ways that don’t cost a fortune. Through all my networking I’ve discovered that this is what most writers are trying to do and so thought I’d offer a way we can all help support each other. Writers and Authors, http://writersandauthors.blogspot.com is a great marketing tool for my writing projects too.

How do you reach authors to try to connect with them, and how is the best way for them to get in touch with you?

The best way to get in touch with me is by emailing writersandauthors@yahoo.it
As for me contacting others, I am a member of several yahoo groups for writers, the book marketing network and myspace, all of which give me the chance to contact large numbers of authors. I also love visiting other author’s websites and if I see one I like I email them directly.

Are you also trying to reach readers? After all, readers are authors’ favorite people! What do you offer to readers?

Writers and Authors was created with people in the writing industry in mind; however, that being said, most of us are avid readers too. Anyone with an interest in books will find something on the site. I post a weekly book review and the interviews on site give a chance to get to know the authors and in some cases read samples of their books.

You have some special Christmas activities coming up. Can we get a sneak peek at what lies ahead for this? When will the “games” begin?

I’m planning a “Christmas Wish List” feature for December where I will be posting short samples (max 2000 words) from books, along with their buying details. The idea is to give inspiration for presents for Christmas. I’m looking for a good mix of genres so there will be something for everyone’s tastes. As the site is open to the general public and therefore all age groups I will not be posting any adult, erotica etc…
Anyone interested in participating should send me their sample and purchasing details to writersandauthors@yahoo.it with “Christmas Wish List” in the subject line before 1st December 2008.

Will you please share with us any special tips you have learned along the way about how to be successful, especially on the Internet, with how to market our books?

You must make yourself known. You can do this by networking, writing articles for websites, your own website, blogs etc…The important thing is to get your name out there.
I have an ebook coming out 1st December called “Free Book Promotion” which covers numerous ways to market your book using the internet. Visit www.lulu.com/jolinsdell to purchase it.

Do you have any last words of wisdom or challenges?

This one’s not mine but I think it sums it up nicely, "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."~ Eleanor Roosevelt

Again, congratulations on your baby. They say our books are like our “babies,” but I have a sneaking suspicion that you are most proud of the flesh-and-blood baby at this point. And welcome back. It’s nice to have you taking an active role in things again.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

The New is Good--but the Old Ain't Bad Either

2008-05-31T19:38:00.003-05:00

Wow! It has been a long time since I've been here. I keep telling myself that a blogger must blog, but then I get all wound up in other things, and that's the end of that.

So, please let me bring you up to date. After Ivan died, my dear friend Billie Williams asked me what was stopping me from moving out to the house she and her husband Tom were buying? I couldn't come up with a good reason, so I decided to pack things up and head for Wisconsin. You can read all about the move and see pictures of my adorable new/old house here.

It's a good thing we reached a mutually agreeable date when they would come to Grand Forks to get me and all my worldly belongings. For those of you who have lost a mate, you will understand when I say that all of his belongings would still be sitting there, waiting for somebody (namely me) to sort through them and try to figure out where to put what. This pile for the Good Will. This one for each of the kids. This one for things I want to keep. This one for such-and-such a friend. This one for the trash... And Ivan was a collector! When he found something he liked, he wouldn't buy ONE of them, he would buy a dozen. Like he had 48 belts hanging in the closet! And after he lost his leg back in 1995, he almost never walked, and with him sitting solidly in his wheelchair most of the time every day, those pants weren't going anywhere!

Anyway, with everything in tow in the rented U-Haul trailer to head for Wisconsin, the only regret I had was that the piano was too high to fit in the trailer. That about broke my heart. My mother got it from her dad (the guy we called Grandpa Snitzelbaum, but that's another story!) when she was just 4 years old, and it was already fairly old then. Mother was born in 1911.

When we moved from St. Peter MN to Spring Lake MN, the piano went down in the basement. That was before the stairway was enclosed, so it went down. After many more years, my mother decided that I should have the piano. I was thrilled. I started taking piano lessons when I was 5 years old, and I minored in music when I was in Bible college.

Then came the next problem. By that time the stairway at the folks was enclosed, and there was no way it would go back up there. My dad wasn't an engineer, but he could have been. He had a very methodical mind. They had a little room off to the side of the house (it was attached) where they put wood down there for the furnace. The roof stood probably 2 feet off the ground, at the most. My dad tore the roof off and got the tractor and with the hoist on the front of it, they lifted the piano up and loaded it in the back of Bernard Anderson's logging truck. And Bernard brought it to me in Grand Forks.

I decided after that trip, I should call a piano tuner and have it gone over. The tuner came, and after checking it with his tuning forks, he said it was in perfect pitch so there was no need to tune it. I had it checked several times over the next nearly 30 years that we had it. It was moved within Grand Forks 3 times. Each time the report was the same. Once in awhile, when it got real humid, it would get what the kids called "a frog in its throat," but by opening the front on it, it would dry out in just a few hours and it was as good as new.

So, when I had to leave my piano in Grand Forks, it about broke my heart. It was an upright grand Cable. I felt like my cable had been snapped. I knew it was just a "thing," but it was a piece of my past I wasn't ready to leave behind. But I figured I'd get by...

Along with my move, my knees kind of decided to go on vacation. I think it was probably a combination of lifting, stretching, packing, hauling, and the cold damp trailer after the furnace died, along with Ivan. I keep reminding them that the rest of me feels like I'm only 30 years old, so why on earth won't they listen and co-operate with the rest of my body? But they won't.

But, little by little, I have been going out walking in the beautiful Wisconsin spring weather. A short walk to start with, then a bit farther. One day I walked all the way "downtown." I know to many people, that wouldn't be a big deal, because it was probably a total of about 4 blocks, since I walked in the other direction first. Now the "downtown district" in Amberg is pretty much restricted to one block. It contains a vacant building, a cafe, a bar, the Party store (that houses just about everything, at a bit of a higher price), and the post office. When I got to the corner of downtown, I was going to go into the restaurant and get a cup of coffee, but I realized that I hadn't taken any money along. So I just turned around and came home, stopping at Billie's for the cup of coffee. The company was probably better anyway!

Today I wandered out in the opposite direction. I headed towards the museum that is run by the Historical Society. Billie had told me that there was a bench out in front of it, so if I wanted to sit down and rest before I headed back, that was OK. Well, it was downhill all the way TO the museum, and I knew it would be uphill all the way back. When I spotted two old fellows out in front of the museum, I decided I might as well go make their acquaintance. One of the fellows invited me to sit on the fancier chair, which was propping the door open.

And then I heard it! From inside, somebody was playing the piano! I thought I was in heaven. It was wonderful, even though the woman came out after she heard us talking said that she couldn't play with her left hand, and she doesn't really play the piano, but she loves to play AT it. I asked her if she would mind if I went in and borrowed it. She said to feel free. She came inside with me. She was a delightful woman. One of the men outside was her husband, and it was their turn to volunteer to keep the museum open. It seems that it is open on Fri. and Sat. during the summer.

Well, when I got inside, there was a big old upright piano! It has a couple of keys that stick, but I just played around them. It was like going home! I knew that both God and Ivan were smiling down at me as I played How Great Thou Art. The woman at the museum said softly, "Oh, I love that song." So I played it again.

Then we sat there and talked awhile. Pretty soon Billie came walking in. She said she just wanted to make sure I was all right. She also said she saw Bicycle Bill heading that way, and she was afraid I'd been cornered by him. Oh, but that's another story for another day too. He's apparently a near genius, but a bit strange. Hmmm, isn't that always the case? Seems he is fluent in about 7 languages. I wonder if Spanish is one of them. Guess I'll just have to wait to find that out.

Anyway, the one thing I really missed has been replaced. I know where I'll take my walk every Friday or Saturday afternoon! Next time I'm taking some of my music along.

"You can have a song in your heart in the night..." Come on, sing along!
Oh, and by the way, the woman at the piano isn't me, but one of these days I'll get a picture of me down there.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

The Last Hurrah!

2008-02-05T19:33:00.000-06:00

(Click on the title to go to Amundson Funeral Home and sign the guestbook)
A Fond Farewell

The weather had risen above zero, but the wind was still brisk as I headed for the Federated Church to say my last goodbye to Ivan. Everything was ready. A fellow from across the street had taken the car on Thursday to put some gas in it and check the levels of the fluids. Such a thoughtful gesture. Diane Sawyer, as you saw in my previous post, had added her vote of affirmation by announcing that the entire country was to dress in red in honor of people who had died from heart disease. Did Ivan have a stroke or a heart attack at 3 o'clock on Tuesday afternoon? I don't know, and it doesn't matter. His heart was in heaven, and everyone was encouraged to wear red in honor of Ivan, as far as I was concerned.

From the moment the first arrangements began, God had His hand on everything. I was left alone for the most part to do what I needed to do. People just took charge, and I cannot thank them enough.
On Tuesday evening I called Keith Mills, our minister, to tell him that we wanted the funeral at the church. He asked about the mortuary, and I told him that he had been taken to Amundson Funeral Home.

Amundsons were amazing. They asked a few simple questions about what I wanted. Ivan always said he wanted "the cheapest coffin there was, and where I am buried doesn't matter, because I'm not staying in that box for long anyway." By the time the funeral arrived, I knew he was above, looking down at us, giving his eagle eye of approval to every single tiny detail.

One of the Amundsons--I'm not sure if it was Paul or Mark--asked me if I wanted flowers on the casket, or would I prefer an American flag, which Ivan had earned because of his military service. I knew immediately that he would want the flag. He was extremely proud of his time in the Army, and he loved his country deeply, even if he didn't always agree with their politics.

I told Amundsons, and Keith Mills when he called me the next morning, that I had asked our good friend John Crawford to sing "Amazing Grace." That was agreeable with them. Ivan loved music. I can see now that he must have known sometime earlier that he didn't have much time left here on earth. I think it must have been about 3 months earlier that a women's ensemble (5 women) sang "I'll Fly Away" one Sunday morning. That might not be anything outstanding to many of you, but the Federated Church does not sing a lot of rousing old "camp songs" in their regular services. As the women began to sing, Ivan turned to me and said, "When I go, I want them to sing that." The hymn was special to him. Years before I knew him, he had gone to a funeral for a family in Oklahoma that had been killed in a car accident. He said it was the most moving and happiest thing he had ever seen. As he bade farewell at the end of the funeral, you knew he was probably clapping in time to the music of "I'll Fly Away."

The church secretary sent a notice out on Wednesday morning to the congregation about Ivan's passing and the time of the funeral. Within a few minutes after it went out, Job Christianson, who has a beautiful voice and is a professional musician/performer, called the church and asked if he could also sing. Keith called me and I was thrilled. Ivan loved Job's singing. As the service began, Job's voice filled the sanctuary with "You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains; You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas; I am strong, when I am on your shoulders; You raise me up... To more than I can be." And we all knew that Ivan had indeed been lifted up on God's shoulders.

And then there was Devera Warcup. She is the church organist, even though she is (I think) a member of the Presbyterian Church. Ivan dearly loved her organ playing. Many a Sunday morning, towards the end when it was so difficult for him to get in and out of the car he would ask me, "Is Devera playing today?" I would answer, "The choir is singing today, so I know she will be." Devera also directed the choir, usually to the piano accompaniment of Thelma Willett, which he also loved. He would smile and say, "Then we should try to go. It doesn't matter who is preaching."
And when it comes to the preaching, he adored Keith Mills' sermons. Having preached many sermons himself, he always commented to Keith about the sermon after the service. He also often told Keith a joke.
The Federated Church, you must understand, is a weird breed. When Urban Renewal took both the United Church of Christ and the American Baptist Church out of the downtown area, the two churches merged and became The Federated Church. Strange bedfellows, but it works.

As we would drive home after the service, Ivan would often grin and remark, "Keith's Christian and Missionary Alliance background was sticking out today."

I knew it was going to be very special from the moment someone handed me the little folder with the information about Ivan and the service. The front of it had a picture of an eagle in flight, with the words "On Eagle's Wings" on it. Ivan always loved eagles. He has a collection of ceramic and porcelain eagles that people have given him over many years. He has a black bolo tie with a gold eagle clasp on it.

After the funeral, I asked Raquel if she had selected the folder. She said, "No, I thought you had." On Monday, I asked Paul Amundson about it. He said he had chosen it. "It just seemed like the right one," he said, not aware of Ivan's love of eagles. I am going to take one of his ceramic eagles over to Amundson's. It just seems right.

I gave the eulogy. I wanted to do that. I wanted to let people know the Ivan I knew. I also wanted to tell of all the amazing things that had happened within the last few days. I don't know, but I don't remember there ever being a round of applause after a eulogy at any funeral I had ever attended. But there it was. I could feel him saying, slyly, "You just had to steal the limelight one last time, didn't you?" No, my dear, I did not want to steal it from you. I just wanted to let them know why you had it.

Anyway, I digress. Getting back to the music, I had not thought about the fact that there would be an honor guard from the Legion, the VFW, and the National Guard. Nor that there would be a bugler to play taps. I was fine until that moment. As the mournful notes echoed throughout the church, I reflected on the bugle and taps. Ivan's father was in World War I. He was the bugler for his unit. Years later, he played in a competition in South Dakota. He won. We have the bugle, engraved with the date and his name on it, up on top of the piano. It was 1932, the year Ivan was born. When Willy, our oldest child, was about 3 years old, "Grandpa Bumpa" taught him to play the taps on the bugle. His little cheeks puffed out so he resembled a chipmunk. In a week or two I will pack the bugle up and send it off to Willy.

And then came the presentation of the flag. I stood, watching impatiently, as they so slowly folded the flag, exactly as Ivan had taught me to do with the old flag we had. It was a special flag that was presented to him after he came back from Korea by the senator of South Dakota. I don't remember his name anymore. It had been flown over the Whitehouse. In 1997, after Grand Forks' terrible flood, it was gone. It had been in our storage shed. It was one of those things that "One day we'll get another one," but it never happened. He now has his flag. I'm not sure, but I suspect that the older fellow who handed the flag to me was likely a Korean War vet too. I must find out who he is. I need to thank him--personally.

And the final step was the lunch that the women of the church served. The odd events that surrounded that on Thursday evening, when Dorothy Suggs and her daughter Sarah stopped by the house to visit me. Dorothy is always in charge of things like lunches, rummage sales, etc.

As we sat and reminisced, I told Dorothy about the red dress incident. I also told her that one of the very last things Ivan said to me was, "I don't want anybody to be sad. This is a celebration of life."

The color drained from Dorothy's face and Sarah took a deep breath. I asked them what was going on. Dorothy explained, "I was going to have that put on the cake--a celebration of life--but I thought I'd better ask you first." So, it was emblazoned on the cake--in bright red frosting!

As our daughter made her way to the table with the food, I heard her take a deep breath and then laugh. "Cowboy ronis and tater tot hotdish," she exclaimed.
When our kids were little, Raquel loved macaroni and cheese, but she refused to eat a "hotdish" with the added hamburger, onions and tomato soup. Likewise, the boys cringed at the mere mention of a "hotdish." Ivan soon duped the boys by renaming it "Cowboy Roni." The boys loved it. They still do.

And the tater tot hotdish? A group called SIL--a branch of Wycliffe Bible Translators--always has a training session here in Grand Forks at UND. For many years, Mary Walker was the cook. She could stretch a few cents worth of food farther than a rubber band. But her tater tot hotdish was something else. When the students knew that was on the menu, they would opt for a small hamburger from McDonald's. There were always leftovers, and she would call us to pick it up so Mission Socorro could give it to the migrant workers. Many of them would look at it and say "I guess we really aren't that hungry after all," and they would leave empty-handed.

If Ivan saw the table, I know he was laughing hysterically. It could not have been more perfectly planned if he had done it himself.

And so, Ivan was carried out of the church and put into the hearse for his last ride. He will be buried in the spring, but it won't matter. He's already gone, and he's loving every second of his new life.

Of course I miss him. Like I told my dear friend, Kristie Leigh Maguire, sure there were some rough spots along the way, but somehow they don't matter anymore. The memories--the good ones--are here, and they're not going anywhere.

Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Ivan--true to the end

2008-02-02T20:31:00.000-06:00
(Read the obituary by clicking on the title)
In January, 2008, I began to notice that Ivan was growing weaker, almost daily. It was hard for him to move in and out of the wheelchair to other surfaces, even with help. I found myself doing more of the lifting, and I don't think I was even aware of it until the last couple of days. I didn't notice all the black and blue spots and incredibly sore muscles until a couple of days after he was gone. We all do what we have to do when it is required of us, and God somehow gives us the strength, both physical and emotional, that we need.

I think the hardest part of it was when he could no longer get in and out of the car. Many were the times in the last two weeks when he wanted to go to Red Lobster or to church and he would say, "Let's try it one more time." And he just couldn't do it, so we would turn around and go back into the house. He loved to be the center of attention. Maybe that was the preacher part of him.

On his last Sunday it took me almost two hours to get him lifted from the toilet seat to his chair. He was a big man--6 feet tall and still almost 200 pounds. I realized that I had to lift him completely as his strength was completely gone. I managed to get him into the wheelchair and into bed. On Monday, he managed to get into the wheelchair, but Monday night in moving him again from the toilet seat to the chair, he slid forward and landed on the floor. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get him up. Our daughter came to help me, as well as a neighbor lady. After more than two hours, we finally got him into the bed.

On Tuesday, God knew we didn't need to try to move him, so he sent us the coldest day of the winter. It was 29 below zero, with a windchill of nearly 50 below. It was so cold in our old mobile home, I told Ivan I could tend to my phone business in the bedroom just as easily as anyplace so we might as well just stay in under the electric blanket and goose down comforter. Part of it was because of the cold, and part of it was because I was afraid he'd fall again.

Before long, he became nauseated, but I stayed by his side all day. We talked more, uninterrupted, than I think we had talked in years. We reminisced over so many of the good times. At noon he wanted me to go check to see if he'd had any e-mails from the kids. It was so cold that after 3 tries to hook up to the Internet the phone rang and ATT was calling to say that there were technical difficulties due to the weather. I went back and told him, and I just crawled under the blankets with him.

About 1 o'clock he said, "Will you promise me something?" I told him I would if I could. He said, "Will you promise me that you won't wear black to my funeral? It's a time of celebration. Wear that long red dress I always liked so much." I told him I would.

Ivan always had an uncanny sense of time, and in many ways it seemed like he could almost sense what the Universe was trying to say. He would often ask what time it was, then give the time before he looked at his watch, and I don't remember him ever being more than a minute off. He could point his finger at the light and it would stay green until we got through the intersection. His final hours were that way.

A few minutes before 3 o'clock, he was still vomiting and he was having a hard time controlling his urinating. I told him I was going to call the hospital and have them send an ambulance to take him to the hospital. He took my hand, and the last thing he said to me until the very end was "Don't make me go to the hospital. I can't go to a nursing home." (That had been his biggest fear for months.) "Just please let me stay here with you until it's over." He was not asking; he was pleading. I couldn't do anything different.

Within a matter of minutes, his breathing became very raspy and gruff. I prayed harder than I've ever prayed before. "God I don't know what to do. I know I am going to have to have him taken someplace by the morning. I don't know how to decide this. Please, God, make this decision for me. PLEASE!"

He tried so hard to tell me something. I couldn't understand anything he said. His words were all slurred together and nothing made any sense. I tried to get him to talk slow so I could figure out what he wanted to tell me, but it didn't work. Then he went to sleep, but his breathing was still so heavy. I didn't know what to do, so I just held him. And waited--for I didn't know what.

Shortly before 8 that evening, he began to sing. When he was in Korea he was friends with a little Korean houseboy. The boy taught him several hymns in Korean. He used to sing them to the kids when they were little, but I hadn't heard him sing them in years. Suddenly, with his voice and his words as clear as a bell, he began to sing, "Hallelujah! Thine the glory. Hallelujah! Amen! Hallelujah! Thine the glory! Revive us again." It was in his beloved Korean version that he sang. He sang it over and over again.

Ivan had a wonderful sense of humor, but he seldom laughed. I mean REALLY laughed. But now he began to laugh like I had never heard him laugh. He threw back his head and laughed a deep, hearty belly-roll laugh. He did that for 2 or 3 minutes. I kept asking him what was so funny. Finally he said, again with no slurred speech at all, "Everything! Everything is funny!" I told him I didn't understand, and he just kept on laughing. Then he said, in totally clear speech, "Everything! Everything up here is funny." He stopped for a few seconds, then he said, "Maybe it's not funny. It's happy. Oh, everything up here is so happy!"

And then he began to snore again. I got up and went to the bathroom. I was gone less than 2 minutes. When I got back, his snoring had ceased. I tried to shake him to see if he was all right. There was nothing there. I checked for a pulse, but there was none. I called our daughter, and she told me she was on her way over but that I should call 911. How many thousand people over the years on the HELP line at Mission Socorro had I told that?

In almost no time at all, they police, the fire dept. and the ambulance workers arrived. They were wonderful! They had a job to do, and they tried their best to do it. Still, one by one they stopped on their way out to get something else that they needed, they stopped for a few seconds to let me know they were still working on him. After I would guess maybe 20 or 25 minutes they managed to get an extremely weak pulse, but by then they told me that the brain damage after that long would mean that he would have no quality of life if he did survive. Both my daughter and I said that was the one thing he was most afraid of, and told them to stop trying to bring him back. And he was gone...

But back to his sense of the Universe. About 10 o'clock I called a very close friend, Billie Williams, and told her what had happened. She posted it to several mutual online groups we belong to. The next day, Wed., Barbara Williamson-Wood, a wonderful Native American woman in Montana, put out a plea for people all across the country to light a candle for Ivan at 10 o'clock on Thurs. night. By having them lit in different time zones, she said there would be a continuous trail across the country to light Ivan's way into heaven.

I was able to contact the only person I know in Venezuela who has a computer. I didn't say anything to her about the candles, but in her reply she said, "You realize that tomorrow is the Festival of Luminarias, don't you? There will be candles lit in every town in Mexico, Central and South America." Ah, yes, I told you Ivan liked to be the center of attention!

There were so many things that were so perfectly synchronized, I know I have only touched the surface. One of the other things was about the red dress. As I turned the TV on on Fri. morning, the day of his funeral, the very first words I heard were from Diane Sawyer on Good Morning, America. She said, "Today is National Wear Red Day!" It was in honor of people who have died from heart disease or heart attacks. As I looked around the church, I was amazed. Over half the people there were wearing something red! I asked many of them if they had heard it on the news, and not one of them had.

But the final straw was when a young very blonde woman I didn't recognize came over to greet me. She told me who she was, by name, and that she was a friend of our daughter from Mayville, a little town about 30 miles south of Grand Forks. I realized who she was. Our daughter and her dad shared a great love of photography. She has her own photography business, and her dad was very proud of her. About a month ago, she came over and asked her dad if he could run off some prints of a woman for whom she had taken wedding pictures. Along with the wedding pictures were some pretty sexy shots of a much younger view of the same woman. It seems that she was a Playboy centerfold model several years ago.

Yes, the blonde at the funeral was that same woman. She was very gracious and said she would like to take me to Red Lobster for lunch sometime. God has to have a divine sense of humor. I could almost see Ivan grinning in the seat next to me as I drove home from the funeral, asking me, "Do you know any other minister who could get a Playboy bunny to come to their funeral, and to do it with such class?"

One of the managers from Red Lobster brought me a name tag from Red Lobster that said, "Mr. Smith." It went with him. Many of the children who were at the funeral had brought pictures and they put them in the casket with him.

I will one day tell about the funeral. It was the most beautiful service I have attended. But as my best friend in town, Gwen Crawford, would say, "But not today." It's been a long day.

I hope they found a bagpipe to accompany the harps as Ivan passed through the Pearly Gates to the refrains of "Amazing Grace!"

I miss you, but if your Internet connection up there is not frozen up, I'll be fine. It's been quite a ride, my love!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

My Ivan--throughout his past (long post)

2008-02-02T18:34:00.000-06:00

IVAN HOWARD SMITH
(March 19, 1932-Jan. 29, 2008)

I hardly know where to start this. The past week has been the most incredible one of my life. What could have been the saddest one left me feeling closer to God than I have ever felt.
Some of you know that Ivan, my husband for over 42 years, began a battle for a "normal" life more than 11 years ago. He was quite ill, but being as stubborn as a Venezuelan burro, he refused to go to the doctor until it was almost too late. By that time gangrene had set into his left leg and he had it amputated. He had not been eating properly (his choice, not mine) and his electrolytes were all messed up, he was very anemic, and they discovered that he had diabetes.
He got a prosthesis but many days he did not want to use it. Other days he could not use it, as his stump was too swollen to get it on. After years of not using his leg, it was finally beginning to take its toll and in the last few months I have watched him get weaker and weaker. I tried, again, to get him to go to the doctor, but again he refused. I finally quit fighting; like an alcoholic, if a person is not willing to make changes in their life, there is nothing anybody else can do. I refuse to feel guilty about this.
One of Ivan's great joys was to go to Red Lobster. That might sound extravagant, when you consider that our income has never been very high. It really wasn't. We would often divide a meal, and the fun he had with the managers, the "doorkeepers," as he called the hosts, and the servers. Over the years we saw many young people move on to other places, and he would often buy all sorts of various sized suitcases and he would give them one to help them on their way. His tipping was always well above the recommended amount. When somebody was getting married or having a baby, he would give them extra "just for what you need." He once paid the Internet connection for a server who was a college student and who was getting really tired of having to go to UND to do their homework.
Ivan loved kids. Many a time he said, "I think God took my leg off and put me in a wheelchair so I would be on the same level as they are. When I was 6' tall they couldn't see anything but my knees." Kids would often come up to him and ask him about his leg. Many mothers were horrified, but he always told them to let the kids be curious, as that was the way they would learn things. The incision mark on his leg (just below the knee) was about 2 inches up. He would ask them if they wanted to see it. If they did, he would pull his pants leg up, take a marker out of his pocket and draw two little eyes and a nose to match the mouth that was already there, and it would become a puppet that he used to tell the kids about eating properly, making other kids that were "different" feel good about themselves, etc. It became his teaching tool.
Like Martin Luther King, Jr., Ivan had a dream. It was to establish a ministry of helps to reach troubled people in all walks of life. In 1971 he and I established Mission Socorro in Grand Forks, ND, after we returned from having spent 9 years as missionaries in Venezuela. During his life, we have helped literally thousands of families. He saw his dream realized. His idea of reaching others had its birth when he was in the Army. He was at Aberdeen Proving Grounds in Aberdeen, MD. He fell in love with that city, and he always regretted not having returned there at least for a visit after he came back from Korea, where he spent 2 years as an ammunitions specialist. While he was there, he met the Lord in a very personal way, and that relationship governed everything else he ever did. He notified the Army that he would go to Korea to help the country he loved in the Korean War, but that he would do so as a conscientious objector. He stood guard right near the front lines many nights, but he refused to put any ammo in his gun. He would turn both his clip and his gun over to the next man on duty. He always carried a pocket New Testament in his jacket pocket. Only once was he fired at and the New Testament stopped the bullet dead in its tracks and he was not hurt. He had that New Testament with the bullet still in it until the flood of 1997. It was in the storage shed we had out behind our mobile home, and he lost it. He cried. He said he hoped that if somebody found it in Winnipeg (the Red River here flows north), he hoped it would protect them.
Ivan's dream came about also because of a very kind Army officer he met in Washington, DC. Ivan had gone into the capitol so he could say he had done it. When he went to return to the base, he realized that he had spent more than he had intended to and he was short a few dollars for the return trip. The officer heard of his problem, so he handed Ivan some money. Ivan tried to get the officer's name and address so he could send it back to him. The officer refused, telling him simply to do something nice for somebody else someday. Ivan has done that for thousands of people in those years between 1951 and 2008.
I will not lie to you; Ivan was not always the easiest person in the world to live with. He could be, like I said, as stubborn as anyone I've ever seen. He could be obnoxious if he saw someone being mistreated. He didn't always have a lot of patience. We all have our faults. Now that he is gone, I can't totally forget all of those traits. He was very human. However, I have chosen to put those things behind me and instead dwell on the many good parts of his personality. As Pee Wee Hamilton reminded me today, "Love means never having to say I'm sorry." I'm not sorry. I loved him, human as he was. Oh, yes, there were times when I wanted to strangle him, but there were other times when I wanted to just take him in my arms and try to make him understand that things didn't have to get under his skin the way he sometimes let them.
I don't think, from what he said, that Ivan had a particularly happy childhood. There were no outstanding things that anybody did to mistreat him, but he was born in 1932, lived through the depression, the family struggled to survive financially, and his mother died long before I met him. I only knew his father and his two brothers. I adored his father. Nobody could want for a better in-law.
Maybe it was his childhood that made him often overly protective of our own 3 kids. He insisted that we take them to school, all the way through high school. They sometimes resented that, but they never questioned his reasons for doing so. His love for his family was one of his strongest traits.
When we got married, in Dec. 1965, my mother warned me that I shouldn't marry him. After quite a few years I understood why she said that. Ivan was a lot like my dad, and my parents, much like Ivan and I, had our ups and downs. Before my mother died, however, in 1996, she admitted that "both of them turned out pretty good."
Ivan was extremely proud of his Scottish heritage. He was the inspiration for my Keith Trilogy, which was based on one of his ancestral lines. On our 35th anniversary I hired a bagpiper to come to church to play Amazing Grace, which was his very favorite song, even though he never could hold the tears back when he heard it. The picture above on the right was taken that day.
Anyway, that is part of what made Ivan who he was. Please read the following part to see about the incredible last week of his life. There could be no question but what he was a very special person, not only to me, our kids and the countless people he helped during his life, but that God was anxiously awaiting him as well.

Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Meet Billie Williams

2008-01-26T11:43:00.000-06:00

I am delighted to bring Billie Williams to you today. She has been on an awesome blog tour during the month of January. She started off with our mutual good friend Joyce Anthony, and she is ending up here. If I had known how tough it was to find questions that none of the other people who hosted her at their blogs, I would have fought Joyce for the first day spot!

Billie has an awesome new poster designed by her cover artist and I am delighted to bring it to you here.

So now, without further ado, I bring to you...drum roll please...my very dear friend, the one, the only Billie A. Williams: Jill-of-all-trades, Mistress of many. (Not THAT KIND of Mistress! LOL!)

Janet Elaine Smith
Interview Questions

I have read several of the blog postings where you have told how you come up with your characters, but I want to know how you find the names for them. You have some of the most unique names. I love people like "Dusty Rhodes."
I usually begin my stories by searching for appropriate characters and the last thing I do when I get them fleshed out is decide on what name would fit them. With Dusty Rhodes though it was an accident – I wanted him named Dusty and the last name came because he was on the road, on vacation. So he became Dusty Rhodes. There is a family named Rhodes (several lines of them) in our town so I supposed I may have inadvertently borrowed their spelling for him.

Most times I try to match the name to the nationality, personality and cultural mores of my character. Who s/he is really. The strengths and weaknesses, the vulnerability, the flaws will suggest to me that this person should have a name picked from perhaps a Greek or Italian lineage, or some other unique bit of their make up. I have a book that I absolutely love for this name picking it is titled The Character Naming Source Book – from Writer’s Digest Books. It takes you from the various ethnic meanings for names and even imparts some degree of origin, if you will, for the name itself.

You say you are shy and introverted and it is hard for you to "sell yourself." What is the one thing that you have found that has helped you overcome that?
It is a constant struggle for me. With book in hand and someone who is interested in it, I can not be me for a few minutes. I can be an author, who knows about her book and her characters and her story-worth-telling.

A friend gave me a hint to try that can even work. (thank you Janet Elaine Smith) Become your character and speak out as though you were him/her. I believe that would be a good way for a shy person to get through the fear that being themselves turns into a sort of writer’s block, but in presentation sort of way.

Do you pattern your characters after people you know at all? If so, do you think they will recognize themselves and do you think they would be flattered or embarrassed?
I believe the characters in all writers books have come from a composite of the people whose paths have crossed theirs. It may not be a conscious adaptation, but it can’t help but become part of the fabric of your life. Of course, that would translate to your writing when you need a character who will act a certain way under certain circumstances.

In Small Town Secrets my January 2008 release I patterned the twins Taaktu and Twice Tewsday after a set of real life twins that just happen to be my Sisters-in-law. These two delightful women are as different as they are alike. Where one has certain strength the other might be lacking. They compliment each other like crumpets and tea. They were perfect for the characters I needed in this novel. Other characters in this book are composites of people who helped shape my life, who I remember for their presence—the way they affected my growing years and longer. I have always lived in small towns and you get to know the people through their being as close as family, at least many of them are.

I love your book Knapsack Secrets. I know it is being re-released. Will that be a part of your Small Town Secrets series?
Absolutely, Janet. My cover artist has even created a banner that will appear on the covers of all the books that tie into Small Town Secrets, technically the series will be The Secrets series. Knapsack Secrets is scheduled for re-release in May of 2008. I have just finished and submitted the third book Ancient Secrets that I hope will be accepted as part of this series too. I have a tentative start on another in this series as well. Secrets are such fun things to mess with. Everyone has one, and they wonder what is yours. What skeleton lurks in your closet.

Speaking of Knapsack Secrets, how long do we have to wait to find out about Audrey's next escapades, and yes, even those of Valentine? I think she was the favorite character I've read in the books of yours that I have read so far.
I have been pre-writing Valentine Azusa’s return to help Audrey and Zip out of a sticky situation – she will, of course return in a different guise but I will try to keep her the same loveable character that she was in Knapsack Secrets. I expect I will have her book done by next February in time for Valentine’s Day. And thank you for being a fan of her story.

You seem to have a bit of Native American lore, etc. in some of your books. Do you have any Native American blood running through your veins? If so, what tribe? If not, what causes that influence on your writing?
I do have a lot of reference to Native American Legend and Lore in my books. Their heritage is so rich and amazing. I do not, unfortunately have any Native American blood in my veins that I know about, however I did work as Program Assistant of The Native American Program at a community college for nearly ten years. The things I learned are ingrained in me as deeply as if I had been born into the culture. I learned from the Chippewa (Ojibwa) Pottawatomi, Navaho, Menominee, Cherokee, Brotherton, Apache and more. It was a fabulous learning experience. As I said the paths that cross your life influence it in many ways. I believe this was bound to come out in my writing. I have a great deal of respect and admiration for their traditions and ways.

You write both fiction and non-fiction books. Which do you prefer writing and why? And is it easier to market fiction or non-fiction?
Sticky wicket that. I love both at certain times.

If I get an idea for a non-fiction book it seems I write like the wind until it’s finished. With a novel I have characters tugging me this way and that, I have twists and turns and red herrings to deal with. I love the challenge, I love the involvement in a novel – but when I get in the zone with a non-fiction book like Spice up Your Writing! Write to Entice, one of my books on some fun ways to learn how to write where I use every day cooking spices as metaphors for some phase of writing— that to me is so much fun. I love sharing what I’ve learned and if I can do it in an entertaining way—-I’m in heaven.

In answer to your question, I love them both equally. I do think that the type of non-fiction I write is easier to promote, perhaps because I am focused on a certain area of the market. Where with fiction it’s really hard to define an audience — I mean yes mystery readers for most of my books, though not all…but what else – you know income level, or ethnic background, anything and everything. So very many things can influence a fiction reader from cover art to back cover blurb and perhaps even the hook in the first paragraph.

You did a fantastic job of writing the script for my book A Christmas Dream. Was that your first attempt at playwriting? What made you brave enough to tackle it? And how long until you finish my next book you are scripting, My Dear Phebe? Hey, if I don't needle you, who will? LOL!
Thank you for your kind words. Writing the script for A Christmas Dream was a dream because the book was a delight by itself and it seemed to lend itself readily to script format. This was my first real attempt at writing a 3-act play. I had been toying with adapting one of my novels for a screen play – which is totally different then a Stage play in many respects, but the classes and books I accumulated while doing that gave me the idea that maybe I could – so when you mentioned you would love to see it as a play – I thought why not? I’ve done most everything in my life that way. If I want to bad enough, I usually can do something. I had a great book, a staunch supporter and some education in the field – so as they say “the rest is history”.

My Dear Phebe got interrupted by some of my own books hitting the publishing queue edits, cover art decisions, more edits etc. So I needed to divert some attention there. I expect I will get Phebe on the page before the summer Civil War reenactments begin to take place. (cross your fingers) – I have books coming out January, February, April and May and you know that means promotion, marketing, promotion and lots of time with edits and all the other “business side” of writing and publishing.

What is the hardest part of writing for you, and what is the easiest?
The hardest part of writing is ‘Ribe Tuchus’ planting my butt in the chair and writing and let house work, snow shoveling, gardening, grocery shopping and all that mundane day to day stuff just slide away so I can write. Then comes the submitting – if someone would do that part for me, I’d be happy. {grin}

The easiest part is the writing, the playing with the thoughts and seeing where they take me.

If you could give us all some advice that would make this path as a writer either easier or more fun, what would it be?
Do what you love, write what you dream of. If you don’t know something and you want to write about it – roll up your sleeves and find out. Take classes, read books, talk to experts, ask for help. You will find it if you reach out.

Write like the wind – warm and balmy on a summer day, blustery when it needs to be, chilly, icy cold like a ‘nor’ Westerner when the story calls for it. Let the words that want to be written flow from your pen while you spill them onto the page –worry about grammar, proper form and substance later when you get all those beautiful words on the page.

Have fun with it. If you write with a playful heart your reader will have a wonderful experience reading your work. It doesn’t need to be comedy to write this way – it can even be horror – but if you put your emotional self in your work, share your love for the genre you are writing it will come out in your work and it will be fun, it will be a joy to sit in the chair day after day and write. Even if the bills, the laundry, the grocery list and the lawn need attending – or should I say in spite of all the daily chores that niggle at your mind – push them and the editor on your shoulder away, tell them to wait outside for you until you get your writing done. Thank you so much for stopping by. You are welcome at "my house" any time. You have become one of my dearest friends, and I wish you the best with your books. I love your new signature line--that you are looking for the $100,000 income this year! Go get it, Tiger!
Thank you Janet it was a real pleasure to try to answer your thought provoking questions. I want to thank you for sharing your blog space you’re your readers with me. And thank you for your kind words and support.

Some one told me once if you can see it (conceive it), and believe it, you can achieve it. That is why my signature line says I will generate $100,000 in revenue in 2008. If one person has done it before – so can I! If no one has done it before, then I could be the first – what a great Star to shoot for. {smile}
Billie
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Me me'd? Or as Miss Piggy would say, "Moi Moi'd"

2008-01-22T19:50:00.000-06:00

I've been MeMe'd. MeMe'd you ask? Well, so did I. Then I found out that I'd been tagged in this great little fun game that's going around. The guilty person who passed it on to me was Billie Williams. You can see her MeMe responses at http://printedwords.blogspot.com/. A person tags your blog and then you get to talk about yourself. How wonderful is that? If a person is taking the time to blog, they are not going to miss an opportunity to talk about themselves, are they? I've been tagged and I'm it! So here goes.
The MeMe Rules of the Game:
Link to the person who tagged you. Post the rules on your blog. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs. Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

Six totally useless facts about Janet Elaine Smith:

1. She was the youngest missionary candidate WEC International ever sent overseas. She was just 20 years old. No one has topped that position, and that was a loooong time ago. Her mother's biggest argument against her going to Venezuela, which she considered a heathenistic cannibal land, was "But you aren't even old enough to vote yet!"

2. She has three children. They were all born by C-section, and it is all her first one's fault. Willy came in weighing a full 11 pounds! Raquel followed, just 15 months later, at 9 lb. 15 oz. When poor little Kevin came along, he weighed a measly 4 lb. 11 oz. When Janet went to look for him in the crib his first night home from the hospital, she couldn't find him. She was looking for something the size of the other two! The dr. (in Pinellas Park, FL) wrapped him in a blanket so he would weigh 5 pounds, which was the limit for taking a baby out of the hospital. Kevin was born in an orthopedic hospital because the regular hospitals wouldn't let them in unless they made a deposit of $1000, which they didn't have as they had just returned from Venezuela. When they contacted the Red Cross to see if they could help them, they told them that if they had somebody who could send them the money, they could send it to the Red Cross and they would see that they got it! If they knew somebody who could send them the money, they sure didn't need the Red Cross to handle it!

3. Janet and Ivan were married just one week before Christmas, Dec. 18, 1965. Why? The church was already decorated, so it was cheap! No wonder Janet's marketing practices prove she is cheap! She learned it from Ivan, her Scottish husband! Her mother never remembered their anniversary, so every year that she was alive Janet would call her mother on their anniversary and ask her if she knew what day it was. The answer was always the same. "Of course I do. It's one week before Christmas and I still have a lot of things to do. What do you want?" Now their children have carried on the tradition; they never remember Mom and Dad's anniversary either.

4. Janet had a dual major in Bible college in music/social work. Her music was in piano and organ. So what did she most often play when she was in Venezuela? Her accordian--including for funerals and weddings!

5. Janet was invited to a presidential banquet when she was in Venezuela by (then) president Betancourt. She attended, and got to meet and spend time talking to him. She also met Ike and Mamie Eisenhower and spent several hours with them at their Gettysburg farm. She got to play their piano, and she accompanied Ike as he sang "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" to Mamie.

6. Janet has had over 3000 magazine articles published, as well as 18 books. She had a dream for many years. When Ivan or her kids would ask her what she wanted for birthdays, Mother's Day, Christmas, etc., she would reply, "One of my books published--and a sexy nightie." She is living her dreams--well, almost. She has all those books out, still writes for numerous magazines, has made a ton of friends thanks to the Internet, but she's still waiting for the sexy nightie. It's probably just as well, at 20 below zero! A granny gown of old-fashioned flannel works much better under the electric blanket and goosedown comforter!

Here are the people and blogs I am MeMe-ing. Please check them out too.
Carolyn Howard-Johnson at http://sharingwithwriters.blogspot.com/
Epstein LaRue at http://crazyonlineromance.blogspot.com/
Kathe Gogolewski at http://www.amazon.com/gp/blog/A21V32M89BJ4ZD/ref=cm_blog_blog
Deb Stover at http://debstover.wordpress.com/
Robin Bayne at http://wwwwritingbetweensundays.blogspot.com/
Martha Stewart at http://marthastewart.com/martha
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Miracles on 34th Street--or yours

2007-12-14T19:10:00.000-06:00

Have you ever done something that sort of felt like it had been touched by a magic wand?
Every author feels that each book they pen has something special about it. What makes the magic come to life is when someone reads the book and they let the author know that something wonderful has happened because of it. Such was the case this week about my favorite book, A Christmas Dream.

One of the things I don't like about e-mails is that you don't get a postmark, so you have no idea where the letter came from. I guess it really doesn't matter. It is just due to an overactive curiosity. I have no idea where this woman lives, but here is the essence of what she said.

The woman had a son who was killed in Iraq last year, shortly before Christmas. She said she wasn't sure she would ever be able to celebrate Christmas again. She also had a daughter-in-law and three grandchildren who apparently lived quite a distance from her.

I don't know who it was, but somebody told her about A Christmas Dream on http://internetvoicesradio.com. Last year I read the entire story, and it is available at the previous url. Just click on "Archives" in the main menu and scroll down until you come to it, then listen to it. It is divided up in segments, so you don't have to listen to the whole thing at one sitting.

The woman said that as soon as she listened to the first segment, she called her daughter-in-law and told her about it. They agreed to all listen to it at the same time every evening, the kids included. After it was over, they would call each other and discuss the story--and her son. When they got to the end of the book they all agreed that what they wanted most for Christmas was to be together. So, they decided to forgo the gifts they were going to send each other and buy a plane ticket for Grandma.

The end of the e-mail said, "How can we ever thank you? You have brought the joy of Christmas back to us. We have come to realize that we have a Christmas miracle--the memories of my son, her husband, and their father. We don't need things. We have each other. Thank you, and Merry Christmas!"

I have a funny feeling that somehow there will be some things under their Christmas tree. Miracles do still happen, especially at Christmas time.

Oh, and she added a "P.S." She wrote, "We will all be watching out the window from time to time, just in case a purple Volkswagon goes past."

If you want your very own copy of the printed book A Christmas Dream, order it on Amazon.com or most any other online bookstore, or ask your local bookseller if they have it. If they don't, they can order it. Even if it's after Christmas when you get it, miracles are good any day of the year. To make it easy, just click on the title of this blog at the top, "Miracle on 34th Street--or Yours" and it will take you directly to A Christmas Dream on Amazon.com.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Lots of Links

2007-12-09T15:04:00.000-06:00
What picture pops into your head when you hear the word "links"?

For some, it might be a chain link fence. There are lots of them in the world. The purpose of them, of course, is to keep something either in or out. But what happens when just one little link is broken? It can do as little damage as allowing a mosquito to get through a metal mesh net, or as much damage as letting a whole herd of cattle out to wander aimlessly about on the highways and biways of life.

A link might be the difference of a gift of an expensive piece of jewelry that a guy gives a gal, but it is just one link too short. A simple trip to the jewelry store can expand it enough so the gifter never knows the difference.

When I was doing research on my time travel Par for the Course (Book 3 in the Keith Trilogy), I learned about golf links. I am the first to admit that I know very little about golf, but I had a lot of fun learning. Wikipedia has this to say about golf links: "A links golf course, sometimes refered to as a seaside links is the oldest style of golfcourse. It was first develooped in Scotland. The Old Course in St. Andrews, Scotland, is one of the earliest links golf courses. I am a firm believer that a writer doesn't have to write what they know, but they do have to know what they write. A little research goes a long ways towards making a great book, instead of just a book.

When I was in high school, it was quite a fad for girls to wear their dads' good long-sleeved white shirts, especially if they had French cuffs. Oh, how I loved those cuff links. If we didn't have any fancy ones, we would buy a couple of really pretty buttons, sew them together with a loop of thread, and use them. Necessity is still the mother of invention!

Now that we have entered the cyberworld, we have a new type of links. They are connections to some of our favorite people on the Internet. As a Star author, some of my favorite fellow authors have some pretty neat blogs out there. In the interest of sharing some of their fun with you, I give you the following links. I hope you will enjoy them as much as I do. Just click on the link and it should take you directly to the other blogs.

-----From Joyce Anthony. Books and Authors http://joyceanthony.tripod.com/blogA place to find author interviews, first chapters and book reviews!

-----From Billie Williams. http://printedwords.blogspot.com Writing related topics, tips, tricks and how tos. A little of a writer's mind, a lot of learning and growing as a writer.http://onewomansgarden.blogspot.com Organic gardening tips, tricks and how to make your garden the envy of the neighborhood. In this age when you can't trust what you buy at the supermarket, why not grow what you can yourself. then you will know its safe, edible and vitamin rich.

------http://www.janetelainesmith.blogspot.com Where you will find out the story behind her stories and what really makes Janet tick--and what ticks her off. Missionary turned romance/mystery/adventure writer, Janet Elaine Smith.) Oops, you're already here, but I thought you might enjoy the description!)

-----From Epi Larue. Title: Travel Nursing HighwayURL: http://travelnursinghighway.blogspot.com/Description: Why travel nursing? Travel nursing allows you to see the world. Travel nursing allows you to catch up on your bills. Travel nursing is the adventure of a lifetime! But, along with this great adventure is a lot of questions and winding roads. This blog was created in effort to assist nurses out with their journey down the Highway of Travel Nursing! Title: 21st Century NursingURL: http://21stcenturynursing.blogspot.com/Description: 21st Century Nursing is dedicated to educating nurses about new technology, modality of new disease transmission, changing labor force, and the ever changing financials that affect the practice of nursing. (If you can't find Epi on the road, you might find her at her favorite links at the golf course.)

-----From Allyn Evans www.allynevans.blogspot.com Talking Out Loud is funny, heartfelt and true! and www.talkingallthingswrite.blogspot.com. Writer Allyn Evans shares what she has learned the hard way.

-----From Carolyn Howard-Johnson
Blogs: http://www.TheNewBookReiew.blogspot.com Where authors and reviewers can recycle their own reviews; where readers can weigh in on their favorites. Guidelines for submission are posted in the left column Carolyn is one of the biggest people about cross-promoting I know, and this blog of hers is one of her best.

Until next time, keep on writing--and reading. Don't forget to tune in to my two radio programs each week at http://internetvoicesradio.com . "Marketing for Fun and Profit" on Monday at 8 p.m. ET, and "What's Happening?" on Thursday at 8 p.m. ET. If you'd like to be a guest, drop me an e-mail at pivtrprograms@yahoo.com .
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Yesterday I felt like Danielle Steele

2007-11-17T10:10:00.000-06:00
I love hearing from readers. To me, that is the best part of this whole book business. Yesterday was one of those very special days.
I had an email from a woman who said this was the first time she had ever written to "somebody famous." Well, that set me to laughing from the start. I don't think of myself as famous. Anyway, she went on to say that she had gone to my website and saw that my PromoPaks are coming out in printed format. She said she couldn't wait to get them to add to her "Janet Elaine Smith Collection." I wrote back and asked her if she is also an author, since the PromoPaks are geared towards authors, and certainly not my idea of a "fun read" for anyone else.
She must have been online, as she answered right back. She said she is not an author, but she would hate for her collection to be incomplete.
Well, since I had her attention at that moment, I replied to her, telling her my favorite Danielle Steele story. Quite a few years ago, my husband and I were at our local mall. We had been in Waldenbooks, and I finished my shopping in there before he did, so I went outside and sat on one of the benches to wait until he was done. Two elderly ladies came along and one of them spotted the big cardboard display stand with Danielle Steele's new book on it.
"Oh, look!" she exclaimed excitedly to her friend. "A new Danielle Steele book! I have to have it."
Her friend commented, "I've never read one of her books."
"Oh, neither have I," the first woman replied, "but it looks so impressive to have them all on the shelves in my library!"
The woman I was corresponding with last evening sent a note back to me immediately again. "Oh, but you are so much better than Danielle Steele," she wrote. "I have read every one or your books at least three times. In fact, I have three copies of A Lumberjack Christmas...Revisited. Each one has a different cover. I had to read each one of them to see if you had changed something inside too. I was so glad you hadn't. I think it's my favorite of all of your books. Either that or A Christmas Dream. You really need to do a new Christmas book!"
I thanked her so much for her kind words, and let her know that a letter like hers is what feeds the kitty on the craps table of a writer's life. It is by far my favorite way to hit the jackpot.
I debated about telling her that I found two copies of my earlier edition (from an old publisher) of Dunnottar for sale through Amazon for a few cents over $115.00, but I would have felt very guilty if she had decided to buy one of them! I did tell her that I will let her know when the PromoPaks are available, though.
To each one of my "fans" who contact me, I cannot begin to tell you how much you all mean to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Stop the Slaughter

2007-08-01T08:08:00.000-05:00
Today, I gladly yield my space on Janet's Jargon to a very dear friend of mine, Joyce Anthony, author of the fantastic spiritual fantasy novel Storm, on behalf of both Joyce and her son Shane.

Many of us have had, or still have pets. We all know that they become part of the family. Joyce knows that I am not a "cat person," but she also knows that I love all creatures, whether they walk on four legs or two, and I certainly wish them no ill. But ill is exactly what befell Joyce's cats. But here, let her tell you her tale herself. And after you finish reading, please do anything you can to pass the word along and let justice reign supreme.

Stop the Slaughter

Returning home from a routine trip to the library on Friday, July 13, 2007. I found one of my beloved cats lying on the floor in a pool of blood, her tiny body wracked with convulsions. Checking on the others, I found two more unable to stand, their legs too shaky to hold their bodies, their bodies trembling fiercely.

Wrapping these three in towels, we headed for the Pet Emergency Hospital, where one of the first questions was whether I had recently given the cats a flea treatment—I had, that very afternoon. The next question: “Was it Hartz?” Again, my answer was yes. This was my first year using this particular brand.

When I left the hospital that night, it was without my three cats. They were too far gone to make it through. I left with instructions to bathe the remaining four and watch them closely. I followed this. They were quiet and nervous that night. By the next morning, another cat was in full-blown seizures and the other three were blinking rapidly and jerking, their muscles starting to be affected. Another trip to the Pet Hospital. When I left this time, one more of my babies was gone and the other three had been admitted. I was scared they would not make it. These three did come home. They survived physically, but my heart goes out to them as they wander through the house crying for those who are gone.

The look on the vet’s face got me thinking and I started to research. This was not the first tragedy caused by Hartz flea treatment. Cats have been dying from this product for years---yet the product remains on store shelves. Unsuspecting consumers, wanting to protect their pets and trusting the Hartz name buy and use it—sometimes it is fine, all too often it ends in tragedy.

I am asking you today to take a stand with me and demand that Hartz remove their flea treatment for cats from the shelves. Hartz knows the danger, they are aware of the record, yet they continue—this slaughter must stop!!

The warning on the box states simply the product should not be used on cats under five pound, pregnant or ill. None of my seven fell into any of those categories—all were over five pounds, five over ten pounds. None were pregnant. All were healthy. The youngest was just over two years old and the oldest six—not kittens. Yet EVERY SINGLE ONE had a reaction!!!

How can you take a stand? The first step is to make a copy of this letter and post it anywhere and everywhere you can. Let people know the danger of this product. Next, contact Hartz at:
Consumer Relations DepartmentThe Hartz Mountain Corporation400 Plaza DriveSecaucus , NJ 07094 USAConsumer Hotline1-800-275-1414 Monday – Friday 9 am – 5 pm EST

And insist they remove their product from the shelves. If you see the cat flea treatment on a store shelf, talk to the store manager, let him or her know the danger and ask that it be removed.

Hartz, how many more lives must be lost before you stop this needless slaughter? Is it going to take you seeing the pain and horror in your child’s eyes when they watch a beloved friend die? Is it going to take looking into a pair of golden eyes that are begging for help as you hold the convulsing body that just hours before ran and played? If there is any compassion at all within you, you will see the need to remove this product immediately.

I panic every time one of my remaining three moves quickly. Hundreds of others out there do the same. It is too late to save so many—it isn’t too late to save the rest!!! I ask each and every employee at Hartz to stop by the pet shop on your way home tonight—or maybe you have a cat at home –really look into that cat’s eyes and ask yourself this: Doesn’t that cat’s life mean anything? Is the money worth the pain and suffering?

If that doesn’t change your mind, look into your child’s eyes. What would you do if you gave this precious child medicine to help him or her and instead of helping, the medicine attacked every muscle, caused convulsions – and death?

My cats were my children—just as so many others are to those who love them. Find your conscious, search your hearts---and stop this senseless slaughter!!!

Joyce A. Anthony
rainbow@velocity.net
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Memories! What would we do without them?

2007-05-24T08:58:00.000-05:00

With this weekend being Memorial Day, it is appropriate that we reflect on memories. I belong to a writers' group called Word Mage. My good friend Billie Williams is the head honcho. We recently gained a new member, who calls herself Pee Wee. Pee Wee lives in Florida with her husband Ralph in a 5th-wheeler. Pee Wee was talking about memories, and what life would be like without them.

As I reflected on that conversation, I wondered about people who have amnesia or Alzheimers and who have no memories. Would you miss not having them? With amnesia, at least you have the option of creating new memories.

I would like to share a couple of memories, both old and new, with you. Another friend, Barbara (Babs) Williamson-Wood and I were recently discussing the book she is working on. It is about a glass hummingbird. As she described the old woman in the story, a visual image of my Great-grandma Bowen popped into my head. As I told Babs about Grandma Bowen, she agreed that the two women sounded like one-in-the-same. I said I had some pictures of Grandma Bowen, and she asked me if I could send her one.

That sent me to a box of pictures my mother had given me shortly before she died, in Dec. 1996. I had never looked through all of them, so this was as good a time as any. I found pictures of our own family from bygone years, pictures of my "early" family when I was just a child, pictures of my mom when she was young along with a lot of relatives I hadn't thought about for years. And yes, I found pictures of Grandma Bowen, including the one at the top of this blog. I remembered her sitting in that rocking chair, when she was in her 90s, telling my dad, "Howard, don't ever live to be an old lady. People feel sorry for you." My dad assured her that he never would. He lived to be 83 years old, and he kept that promise to her. Memories! I didn't want to do without them! They were far too precious.

As I continued on, I dumped the contents of another manila envelope onto the bed, I gasped. My husband Ivan and I were missionaries in Venezuela for 9 years. I had pictures of Venezuela, but on our final trip back there we had a blowout on a tire on the trailer that contained all of our worldly possessions, including our photographs. The contents were for the most part scattered all over the Interstate in Florida, right near the Busch Gardens. Like it was a sign that God had not forsaken us, the English bone china tea seat Ivan had given me for my first Mother's Day, was in tact and we got all of the pieces back and only one cup was broken!
Now, facing up at me on the bed, were the pictures I had sent to my parents of Venezuela. I could not help myself; the tears flowed freely. How I missed those dear people. Yes, I still have contact with some of them, but I was incredibly homesick for the land that had become my own homeland during those years we spent there. I looked at them, one by one, running my fingers over the people's faces as if I were a blind person feeling the ridges and wrinkles of the person standing in front of them as they tried to "remember" how they looked. Ah, these pictures evoked memories of long ago that I was so glad to rekindle.

And now, on to new memories. My latest book, Bank Roll, just came out this week. It has had a strange run already. The storyline is about a young woman, Max (Maxine, but only to her mother) Stryker, who left the small fictional town of Willow Creek, MN to seek her fame and fortune in "the twin cities" as a crime reporter for the St. Paul Pioneer Press. In the book, The Pioneer Press had a huge cutback and Max ended up jobless, and she had to decide whether to try to get on at the neighboring Minneapolis Star Tribune, or to go back home to Willow Creek, which she vowed she would never do, and where nothing exciting ever happened. She finally gave in and decided that she would go home again, and as fate would have it, the first exciting thing to happen since the moose got loose and caused poor old Pete Broquist's demise took place when the bank president was kidnapped.

Now real life is often stranger than fiction, and Max Stryker is living proof of that. The day after I finished the edit on the manuscript, Knight Ridder announced they were selling their newspapers, including the St. Paul Pioneer Press, and there were going to be a lot of job losses in the process. Fast forward to May 7, 2007, the day Bank Roll went up at Ingram so bookstores could get the book. The news broke on May 8, 2007, in an AP release that went nationwide, the Minneapolis Star Tribune announced that they were cutting back 145 jobs.
I called the reporter from the Star Tribune to discuss the cuts and Bank Roll. By the time we finished talking, he commented, "I'll bet she is really glad she didn't stay here. She'd have her second pink slip!" I reminded him, politely, that she is a fictional character. His reply was simple, but so inspiring to an author. "Oh, I forgot." I suspect that Max Stryker is on her way to making her own memories!

Finally, I do not often wax political, but this time I cannot help it. As we face a new Memorial Day, our hearts and memories go back to those who have given years of their lives to preserving our rights. Ivan served in Korea, as did a cousin of mine--Billy Rosenbush. His brother, Bob Rosenbush, was in Germany. My father-in-law and his brother both served in WW I. They all came home safely, but Billy was killed in a freaky car accident just shortly after he returned. To them, and to all the other brave men and women who have fought on our behalf, I say "Thank you." But now we are facing a new era. My heart aches for the young soldiers who are at war and who are dying daily. Just this week we have lost two men from our area; one was from Wahpeton, ND and the other was from Hawley, MN. One of them was only 23 years old and had a wife and a 2-year-old baby. I have to wonder why they were even there. Granted, we need protection from terrorism. I don't want a rerun of 9/11 any more than anyone else does. But our young people are our most valuable commodity. I want them here with us--with their families, at their jobs, continuing the studies they had to vacate--so they can make their own memories. I want them to be more than just a memory. I salute each of you, but I want you home!

I will be back this weekend with a new blog on a lot of exciting things that will be happening on my "Marketing for Fun and Profit" Internet Radio Voices program. Stay tuned! And above all, stay safe! Until next time!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

The Universe in Surround Sound

2007-05-06T19:42:00.000-05:00
You just have to love it when things happen in unison. You know, when you could hear a message as a solo, but instead you get it in three-part harmony. Such was the case this week. Let me start at the beginning.

I got a newsletter that talked about making yourself your best friend. The writer said that it is OK to acccept those personal flaws that bug somebody to the nth degree, but no matter what you do, you can't seem to make the necessary changes to please everybody in the world. It is, alas, so true that you can please all of the people some of the time, and some of the people all of the time, but not all of the people all of the time.

OK, let's take a little time for introspection here. I admit that I have ONE fault. (Yes, just one! LOL!) It is my lack of doing housework. My husband, Ivan, blames it on the fact that when we were in Venezuela we had a young girl, Maria, who did all of the mundane chores for me--at a very modest price of about $5/week. No, I wasn't cheating her; that was the fair fare at the time. Yes, it was a long time ago. I don't think that's it, because I really used to do fairly well at it. I think it is basically Ivan's fault. It is not my fault that I am tied to this machine like a newborn to its mommy by the umbilical cord. I argued with him for several years. I balked, I argued, I complained, and finally I gave in. He was happy--until it became more time consuming than Law and Order reruns are to him. So, I admit it. There are quite a few things in the housekeeping area that I don't do, but I DO windows--MS Windows, that is!

So it was nice to hear from the newsletter that I could love myself, in spite of my shorcomings. Besides, I figured it was OK. After all, the primary commandment of the New Testament is to "Love your neighbor as yourself..." Not only does that encourage you to love your neighbor; it gives you permission to love yourself.

But just like I needed re-enforcement of the fact, Ivan got a newsletter in HIS email from Eat Healthy. Guess what they figured out? People who live in dirt are actually healthier than people who live in immaculate surroundings. I'm sure they weren't talking about the filth of people like the Collyer brothers, who were found dead in their Harlem mansion in 1947. It took 17 days to remove enough trash and objects from their mansion before they could find the second brother! Moderation, you know! Everything--even dirt--must be done in moderation! Anyway, I was delighted to know that not only should I not condemn my lack of housekeeping interests, but I was actually helping us live a healthier life!

But wait, that's not all. They say that things often come in threes. Three deaths, three surprises, three unsolveable puzzles... Well, this morning in our Grand Forks Herald, in the book section, the third confirmation that I was on the right track showed up. The main book review was entitled "Bless This Mess." It was written by Vick Mickunas, and the release was from the Cox News Service. The bi-line read, "Author says if clutter works for you, there's no need to tidy up." The title of the book is "A Perfect Mess: The Hidden Benefits of Disorder." The authors are Eric Abrahamson and David H. Freedman.

The article starts out by quoting from the book: "Children exposed to fumes from home-cleaning products, among other chemicals, were up to four times more likely to develop asthma."

It goes on to explain that "Messes can incubate ideas. For example, in 1928, the British bacteriologist Alexander Fleming returned from a vacation. He had left his office in disarray. He noticed a moldy petri dish. It piqued his curiosity. Penicillin would not have been discovered that day in a tidy office."

Mickunas goes on to say, "The authors cite numerous other historical examples of messiness that inspired strokes of genius. Your average slob should feel thoroughly validated."

It also says that "the mind is built around disorder on several levels, ranging from the processing of raw sensory data to the juggling of complex ideas. Our brains are evolved to function in a messy world..."

It reminds me of a very wealthy woman here in Grand Forks. It was said that she had to go open the doors of the First National Bank every morning before the bank president could go to work. She was, by all reports, "a bit strange," but money talks, and she obviously had plenty of it. She was a non-practicing MD, although at one time she had apparently had a private medical practice. When she died, they had to tear down her house. There were dozens and dozens of cats' skeletons in closets, cupboards, etc. She was obviously onto the secret of non-cleanliness, but she carried it to an extreme.

And just in case you are wondering, yes, you can walk from one end of our house to the other without tripping over anything. But don't look in the closets, or the two "storage rooms" that used to be our kids' bedrooms. And don't stop too long to study the stack of "stuff" on my desk. I did clean the piano bench and the piano off the other day. I should have known better. Today when we went to go out for a bit I couldn't find my glasses. I knew exactly where they were before I cleaned the piano off!

I think I'll join the Universe and make it a quartet!

See you next time. Don't forget to check back often.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Taking the World by Storm

2007-04-25T12:37:00.000-05:00

For months before her book was released, Joyce Anthony declared in her signature line, and to anybody who would listen to her, that she was "about to take the world by Storm." I sort of chuckled at her high hopes and expectations. Every new author, I thought, figures the same thing. I know I did. What I didn't realize was that her book, Storm, was so powerful that once you read it, you will never look at people or life in general the same way again. I am pleased and proud to be a part of Joyce's Blog Tour with her stopover today. And if you haven't read Storm yet, or if you don't know what to read next, make Storm your next choice. I know you won't be sorry. And now, without further ado, I bring to you...(drum roll, please!) Joyce Anthony!

1. Storm is filled with spiritual (not religious--there is a big difference) references and insinuations. You could not have written this book without having a strong faith of your own. When did you realize how important faith was to you, and how did it come about?
I realized just how strong my faith was when I found myself alone with a five month old baby, no income and in an apartment I knew I couldn't afford. At that point in my life--God was my only hope--and He came through for me. Since that time, I have found my faith deepening constantly,

2. I know that you have a menagerie (i.e. zoo) of your own. Did you think about how much comfort the ending would be for pet lovers who have lost their four-legged family members?
I never thought about how the ending would affect those who lost a furry friend--I'm glad that is something it does, however. There are many moments in this book that found their way into the story without me realizing it.

3. I loved your references to the railroad. Is there some significance to railroads for you? If so, what is it?
I have always loved trains and railroad tracks. When I was a little girl, I would look down the empty tracks and imagine what it would be like to follow them until they ended--I somehow felt what was at the end was so much better than where I was--safer, happier. With Storm, I decided to see just what WAS at the end of the track :-)

4. How long did it take you to write Storm? It seems like you must have lived and breathed the storyline, as it is so "real" to the reader. How did you feel when you finally finished it?
The actual writing took two years from first word to last period. Before that, I spent nearly six months turning it over in my mind, doubting my ability to write, etc...
I did literally live this book--day and night--many parts came as I woke from a dream and had to write--when I got stuck, I'd pray that God would point me in the correct direction--and the next day I'd write.
I was actually scared when I finished it. I put so much energy into Storm I wondered what would come next--and the thought of rejection was overwhelming.

5. You have a teenage son, who I happen to know is a wonderful young man, and that you homeschool him. Do you think you had to sacrifice some of the time with him when you were working on the book? Did he ever indicate that he felt like he had suddenly become "second fiddle" to a man that didn't really exist--except in your mind?
I do believe time with him was lessened--but not once did he complain. Shane is an incredible young man. He is the one who kept pushing me forward--reminding me I should be writing when I did other things. He is my biggest supporter when it comes to writing.

6. When you started the book, did you KNOW who Storm really was, or did that take you by surprise as much as it does the reader of the book?
That was the one thing I did know. It actually made it hard to write, because he needed to discover that for himself and I wanted to "help out" :-) There were a lot of surprises in Storm--but this wasn't one of them.

7. Now that you are moving into the marketing phase of your first book, what do you plan to do to make this wonderful work known to the entire world? Is Oprah in the cards? If you could be on one of the major TV talk shows to discuss Storm, which one would you prefer?
I have started sending out press releases/reviews to all the newspapers and the libraries. I am gathering a list of every bookstore I can and will be calling each one personally to ask that they order at least one copy of the book (although I'm hoping for more).
The thought of being on Oprah scares me--but I plan on mailing her a copy also. I'm not big on talk shows--most are so controversial--but Oprah has a classier program.
Truthfully? The one person I always wanted to be interview by was Barbara Walters--that woman knows how to conduct an interview!!!
I'd like to see Storm become a weekly TV series (I think the way it is set up it is possible) or a movie--but that's just a dream.
I also want it translated into Spanish and done as an audio book.
I don't want much, do I??

8. I know this will probably sound strange, but then you know I'm not "normal" anyway. LOL! Do you think you have ever "seen" Storm? I mean, has he manifested himself to you in a physical presence?
Yes, I believe he did--over twenty years ago and only for a brief moment--a moment of intense eye contact that has stayed with me since.

Thank you so much for stopping by, Joyce. I'm thrilled for you to have this life-changing book out for people to read it. I wish you the best of luck with it.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Easter--a new take on an old tale

2007-04-08T19:02:00.000-05:00
OK, I admit it is long past sunrise, when the first Easter escapades were supposed to have occurred. I make no apologies; it's been a busy day. My husband and I did go to church this morning. Let me give you a bit of background.

We had a pastor (a couple of pastors ago) who was a combination minister/psychologist. We thought that was a great idea--until he began to question almost everything in the Bible. He would start out pretty good, but then he would take a sharp turn (I'm not sure if it was to the left or the right) and would continue with "Now what it says is not really what it means. Here's what I think it means..." And it was pretty hard for him to instill faith in anybody in the congregation, since he didn't claim to believe much himself. Maybe it's something with a scientific mind or something. I never quite figured it out. He was a nice enough fellow, but...well, you get the picture.

The next pastor was much better, but we knew it was just a stopgap. He was elderly, retired, and the last I heard after living in North Dakota for most of his life he decided to stay in Hawaii when he went there to visit his son. I can't say I blame him. He was much better in the sermon department, and he did seem to have a sincere faith, which to me is crucial for a minister.

So when his time ran out (at least in our church) we really lucked out. We got a fellow who is originally from Ohio, but he has lived in ND long enough to know that we ain't perfect--weatherwise or peoplewise! He seems to accept us anyway, which is a big plus for a minister. He has a delightful sense of humor, sort of a dry wit. You don't see it coming, and when it strikes it sometimes takes a minute or two to sink in, but then you realize just how funny it really was. In my book, he's a definite keeper. His name is Keith Mills. If you ever wander into Grand Forks, ND, I would like to invite you to a Sunday service at the Federated Church to judge for yourself.

Anyway, today was Easter Sunday. I guess I'm as guilty as the next person of thinking I "know it all" when it comes to the old familiar stories in the Bible. Keith does tend to keep it new and fresh and often puts a slightly new slant on things, and at the beginning of today's sermon, he said that was what he was going to try to do.

But he was way past that point. We have a "step story" where all the kids go up and sit on the steps that go up to the altar and podiumns. He started today by telling the kids that he was going to tell them a mystery story.

I am a writer. In fact, most of you know that I write mysteries. I have my Patrick and Grace Mysteries (you can see all about them at http://crumbycapers.tripod.com ) and soon I will also have my first Max Stryker Mystery out (go to http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com ). So when Keith started talking mysteries, I figured he had wandered over into my territory.

I had never really thought about the same old Easter story in terms of a mystery--until today. He had the kids spellbound when he told them about Mary Magdalene going to the tomb and finding the stone rolled away. He plaited them with questions such as "How could anybody roll away such a big stone?" "Where would they have taken the body of Jesus, if it was robbers?" "If it was robbers, why did they stop to take time to put the wrapping from around his head in a neat pile? When you have done something wrong and you want to get out in a hurry, do you stop to fold up your clothes first?" "When the disciples went running back to the tomb after Mary told them that Jesus was MIA, what did they expect to find? Were they looking for clues to solve the mystery of the century?" "When they got back to the tomb and Mary saw the angels inside, who did she think they were?" "What about the Roman soldiers? They were supposed to be guarding the tomb? What had happened to them?"

So yes, I looked at the same old familiar tale in a totally new light. If it hadn't already been written, it would make a great mystery!

And now, a reminder that on April 23rd, we will be having a real Storm here at my blog. Joyce Anthony will be my guest. And in keeping with the "Book 'em, Danno" (or "book 'em, Storm!"--available on amazon.com and lots of other places)--here is your next trivia question. For many years Hawaii 5-0 was the longest running TV police show on TV. It has been replaced by one other program as the holder of that honor. What show holds the record now, and when did Hawaii 5-0 start and end?
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Life-changing events

2007-04-06T08:27:00.000-05:00
There are a few things that come along that alter a person's life forever. Usually, they include marriage, births, deaths, divorce, winning the lottery, losing a fortune, getting hired, getting fired, etc.

For people who love to read (and thanks to Harry Potter that number is growing, especially among our young people), the pages of a book occassionally hold that same power. For me, the one book that I have credited for years with changing the way I look at the world was Norman Vincent Peale's book The Power of Positive Thinking. After my mother and dad read it and I heard them discussing it at great length, I decided to read it myself. That must have been back in about 1952, shortly after the book first came out. It was the "talk of the town," so to speak. I was sure that I would never find a book that would have that same effect on me.

And then along came Storm! This book is so different from Norman Vincent Peale's book, but it packs the same powerful wallop! The author, Joyce Anthony, is a newbie to the world of publishing. This is her debut book--not just the first book she has had published, but the first book she wrote! I have gotten to "know" Joyce, thanks to the Internet and the phone, so I have no doubt that all of her books will be as good as Storm, but I'm not sure she will ever top it. I guess I can understand that, at least to a point, as Dunnottar was the first book I ever wrote, the first one that was published, and now--7 years and 14 books later--it still outsells all of my other books. Once in awhile an author just stumbles onto something that "works."

In honor of Joyc'e book, I am pleased to be a part of her current Virtual Book Tour, where she will be visiting various blogs all month long. You can see the complete list of where she will be and when at her website, http://joyceanthony.tripod.com . She will be here on April 23rd.

I admit to not watching a lot of TV, but one of my old-time favorites was a very suave, debonaire PI from back in the '50s. I will try to post a new trivia question about the program almost every day, so stay tuned. For today, guess the program. Clue No. 1 is "Book 'em, Dano." And if you want to have some fun with Joyce, "book 'em" over on Amazon with your own copy of Storm. You won't be sorry. I guarantee it!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

USPS Strikes Again!

2007-04-05T20:27:00.000-05:00
OK, yesterday I got a credit card in the mail for Monday Knight. I know, you've read all about it, so I won't bore with a repeat of the details. About a week ago we got a letter from someone that lives right here in our own town. It was mailed at the main post office--and it was delivered to ours EIGHT DAYS LATER! I don't think it would take that long to get from one end of New York City to the other. I mean, Grand Forks North Dakota isn't really THAT big!

My husband and I run a charitable organization, Mission Socorro. We have had a PO Box in East Grand Forks, MN, on the other side of the Red River. Mission Socorro has always been non-discriminatory as far as race, sex, and religious beliefs. We follow the example of Jesus, and He never turned anybody away regardless of what they had been. Oh, yes, he had a bit of trouble from time to time with the Pharisees, but He welcomed the prostitutes, the tax collectors, the fishermen, and anybody else who came to Him with an open heart.

Today's mail showed just how ecumenical we had become! We got a letter from an Evangelical Free Church in Fargo, ND (75 miles to our south). That isn't so funny. It was addressed to Mission Socorro at our P.O. Box number. Again, no problem. But the person to whose attention it was addressed was "Father Gerald Potter."

We have known Father Potter for many years. He used to teach at the Religious Dept. of the University of North Dakota. He used to be fascinated by our big old ('79)bright yellow Lincoln. One time when I was at his office at UND, before he retired, he grinned broadly and said he would like to show me his sword collection. He explained that he had been fascinated by swords for years. He then opened a drawer in his desk and took out a whole pile of pictures he had collected from all those fancy places like Danbury Mint. He came up with the theme we use on our letterheads: "Mission Socorro is the gospel in action." After our great flood of 1997, when we were all evacuated to the Grand Forks Air Force Base, he kidded me because when they needed a pianist for the Catholic services that were held at the school that housed the hundreds of people who were refugees with physical problems or challenges, I was the best they could dig up! Ah, yes, Father Potter and Mission Socorro go way back. I just wish he would get back from Rome, where he has reportedly gone for Holy Week, so I could make his life complete by letting him know that he, a Roman Catholic priest, has joined ranks with Mission Socorro. At least that's what the Evangelical Free Church thinks!

Long live the Brotherhood of Christianity!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Reality Check?

2007-04-04T20:06:00.000-05:00
Authors are weird people. If you are one, you know that. If you've ever known one, you most likely wondered about them. They insist that their characters are "real people" who run around in their heads and manifest themselves in strange ways. They sometimes even insist that their characters "tell" them how to write their stories.

But the question comes to light once in awhile, "When do the characters become real to other people?"

I write a lot of books, in a lot of different genres. People often ask me, about Patrick and Grace Mysteries and why I chose them to pattern my favorite senior sleuths after them. These are people I have never met! Impossible? Of course it is. But I tell them that "Patrick and Grace are a little bit of everybody, but not really anybody." I love it when my readers identify with my characters.

It is probably true, however, that the character from my first Women of the Week series, Monday Knight, has captivated people's imaginagion more than any of my other characters. She has her own website at http://meetmondayknight.tripod.com , she has her own blog there, she has been invited on outings on a mountain top in Connecticut to view the planets when they line up, she has been taken on a tour down the Amazon, had a game made for her, gets her own email (she has been forgiven college loans, had more *ahem* enhancements than any man could ever want, has had mortgage approvals, been granted various college degrees), and once in awhile she even gets her own snail mail. She has accumulated more free AOL and Earthlink hours than I could ever hope to get, gotten free pantyhose samples (I know they were hers, even if they hadn't had her name on them, as they were way too small for me!).

Today was another example of how "real" she has become. She got a notice in the mail for a pre-approved Advanta Bank Credit Card. It boasted No annual fee, 0% finance charges for 15 months, and a $50,000 card limit. Yes, this was no ordinary credit card; it was a "Platinum Business card." It even offers a 5% cash back or free travel. How can you top that?

I decided that the honest thing to do was to call the company to let them know the real scoop behind Monday Knight. I got a very delightful young woman on the phone. She told me that her name was Krissy A. (She said she was not allowed to give out her last name.) I explained who Monday Knight is. She laughed with me as we discussed--of course, my books. She said she loves to read, but she usually doesn't read fiction, but she had been thinking about trying a few novels. So, when I told her a bit about Monday Knight, including the fact that it is a contemporary romance novel, she said, "I am going to go over to Amazon and look for your books. And I am definitely going to order it." She laughed again, then added, "I will tell my husband about it and let him see how it is supposed to be done!" Mr. A, you are in for some fun in your future! Monday Knight and her Dr. White can give you some pretty good pointers, inlcuding what kind of flowers a woman REALLY wants!

Krissy A., if you read this, I'd love to have you leave a comment. If you can't make it "take," just sign it as an Anonymous and include your name in the body of your comment. And happy reading! Thanks for making my day--and Monday Knight's!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

It's so "tweet"

2007-02-25T20:25:00.000-06:00
It was February in North Dakota, but it was a strange day. It was 5 o'clock in the morning--and it was raining! It doesn't rain in North Dakota in February.

About an hour later--after the automatic coffee was done perking--we got up, and as I went outside to get the newspaper, it was warm enough that I left the door open as I walked across the ramp to the mailbox to fetch the Grand Forks Herald. I was oblivious to the events that happened in that few seconds.

As we sat at the kitchen table, reading the paper and drinking our coffee, I suddenly spotted a little chickadee sitting on Ivan's desk. He didn't seem nervous or upset. He just sat and watched us.

But let me back up a little bit first.

I suppose the reason he (and yes, I was convinced this was a "he") wasn't afraid of us is because for many years we have fed the birds. At least that's the way it started. Soon our resident family of rabbits that have lived under the back shed for several generations began to join the feathered friends. They didn't argue; they all ate together in peace. After a bit, the squirrels came poking around, but they wouldn't touch the birdseed. Ivan decided we should add some nuts to the mixture. Well, I pretty much figured that between him and me there were already enough nuts around, but he got a bag of mixed nuts and put them down right with the birdseed. Again, they all gathered in unity, but the squirrels didn't have enough tooth power to crack the nuts. So, feeling sorry for them, Ivan got some salted peanuts. The squirrels had a grand old time with them, but they were not alone. The blue headed blackbirds (I mistakenly called them "crows" one time when a birdlover was visiting us) also liked the nuts. But, the birds would like the salt off the nuts, then scatter the nuts all over the yard, leaving the squirrels to work up an appetite by playing hide-and-seek for their supper.

Anyway, back to the rainy Feb. day and our friendly visitor. I went and got the broom, hoping to chase him towards the door, and once he got there I figured I could grab the door and open it and he would fly outside.

Wrong! The bird headed, calmly and gently, towards the bedrooms. I went back to find him and he flew over my head back to the kitchen, and he perched atop a high old antique oak cupboard. Ivan asked me why he would sit up there, and I said, "That's easy. He can get a birdseye view from up there."

I realized that the broom would probably scare him, so I went and opened the door and waited to see what he would do. He went back over to Ivan's computer and sat there for a bit, then he went to the organ, which is right beside the door. I was standing off just a little ways to the side of him. He perked his head first one way, then the other, as if to say, "Well, I guess you'll be all right in here." Then he hopped off the organ onto the floor and swaggered out the door. No, he didn't fly out. He was perfectly happy to walk out. As soon as he got outside, he sat on the ramp and looked back at me and let loose with one cute little "chick-a-dee-dee-dee" and then walked down the ramp and around to get his breakfast.

Babs Williams-Wood told me that to Native Americans a bird in the house is a sign of good luck for the coming year. In that case, 2007 should be a very good year!

Ivan wrote a poem about the event. Here it is, for your fun.

Tweety Bird
I saw a little Tweety bird
Who came into our house.
He went from room to room, unheard;
He was quiet as a mouse.

He circled places flying around
Without a single care,
Then went out to the ground
To our habitat, with care.

There he met his friend, the squirrel,
Then the rabbit, so very shy.
Then birdie friends came in a whirl
To join them from the sky.

They ate together ina patch
No bigger than a square,
Even in the snowy catch,
Filled with seeds and flair.

Seemed funny now to see,
Everyone agreed.
If only man could live
In harmony--with no greed.
-Ivan H. Smith, Feb. 2007
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Iraq Vet presents a special moment

2007-02-01T18:17:00.000-06:00
A couple of nights ago, when it was warm enough for my husband Ivan and me to come out of hibernation before another cold wave hit North Dakota, we ventured over to our favorite haunt, Red Lobster.

Seated at the table next to us was a young couple, two little boys--I guessed that one was about 2 and the other one about 4, and a middle-aged couple. Listening to their chatter, it was obvious that the older couple were "Grandma and Grandpa," but they seemed to be nearly invisible, at least as far as the boys were concerned. The kids did wave at us, then began to talk a bit, and before long we discovered "the rest of the story," as Paul Harvey would say.

The dad had just finished a tour of duty in Iraq--his third tour. It was his first day home. There was no need to wonder why the boys were so clingy to dad. In their little minds, they were probably afraid he would leave again if they didn't hang on tight enough.

There was no talk about the war and whether it was right or wrong. There was talk about how proud of him we all were. When they finished their meal, we called the waitress over and told her to have them order dessert, on us. They were delighted, especially the boys.

It is not often we get to see such a special day so up close and personal. It was a delight for us to be allowed to intrude on this special family.

No matter what we think of the war, these young men and women are true heroes, and my hat's off to each and every one of them. Thank you.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

The best gifts can't be wrapped

2006-12-23T11:01:00.000-06:00
With Christmas just a little over a day away, kids of all ages (from 1 to 92, as the song says) get itchy fingers to know what is hidden in mom and dad's closet, or under their beds (after they do their annual removal of the dust bunnies), or at the neighbor's house. I'm no different. Oh, I've finally outgrown--at least a little bit--the temptation to get up the night before Christmas to sneak out into the living room to see if I could pry a corner open on the most curious gifts and try to figure out what it was. Over the years, my family became experts at REALLY taping their packages shut. I guess that's what made me quit that ritual. Either that, or as I've gotten older, the sleep I might miss is more valuable than knowing ahead of time. Oh, and in case you wondered, I became a real expert at "faking it" on Christmas morning.
I think the most frustrating one was the year I asked Ivan (my other half) for a hint. All he would tell me was "I got you a green apple in a black velvet bag." Well, there were no visions of sugarplums dancing in my head that year. It was more like belly aches from the green apples I'd always been forbidden from tasting when I was growing up. When Christmas morning finally dawned, I anxiously tore the paper off the package I'd been teased by for so long. Inside, sure enough, there was a beautiful green jade apple pin, with gold leaves and a little white pearl. I still have it. I wear it quite often. I love it. And every time I do, I remember all the times I was told what it was--and I was too dumb to "get it"!

Anyway, sometimes a gift of great value drops into your lap when you least expect it, and there is no way to put it in wrapping paper and tie it up with a fancy bow. I got one of those just yesterday. Who was the Christmas fairy who brought it? It was a CNN news broadcast. Queen Elizabeth was announcing that she has "come of age" for her Christmas message to the people this year. It will be aired by Podcast.

I smiled, as I thought that I had beaten the queen to the modern age by about four months. That's when I started my two Internet broadcasts at http://internetvoicesradio.com . One of them airs on Monday evenings at 8:30 ET; it is "Marketing for Fun and Profit." The other one is on Thursday evenings at 9:00 ET; that one is "Vamos a Hablar Español" (Let's Talk Spanish). I wondered if Queen Elizabeth enjoyed it as much as I do. I hope she did.

Anyway, here's where the gift came in. They announced that the Christmas Podcast could be accessed at Queen Elizabeth's website. They did not give the url, but I figured my good friend Google would solve that problem in a minute or less. I don't know why I had never thought about the fact that Queen Elizabeth would have a website, but I hadn't.
When I got there, I was amazed. The site is loaded with all sorts of links and historical information on not only England, but Ireland and Scotland. There are pdf's of family ancestral charts. There are tales about various kings and queens, as well as their children, their parents, etc. It is a wealth of information. I marked it as a "favorite" in seconds. I just barely scratched the surface, but oh, the fun things I found there. One of the most fascinating parts was all of the links to information that is geared to children. I would love to share this gift with each of you. Just go to http://www.royal.gov.uk/output/Page1.asp and take your time browsing. It will take hours and hours to absorb all of the information that is there.

And today, I received another gift. There is a fellow writer, his name is Gale Sparks. He goes by "Papa Gale" in the groups we are both members of. He sent a message across to his friends in the group. Now Gale is a very special man. He lives in Tennessee and is a self-proclaimed "redneck." He and his wife are raising a couple of their grandkids. Circumstances don't matter; when they needed him, he was there. He idolized those kids, and this story he told explains why.
One of the kids, his firstborn grandchild, is named Haley, but he immediately nicknamed her "Haybug."
In preparation for Christmas, Gale's wife had taken the two girls to the mall. After they finished their shopping, they went to a little stand to get a pretzel. They sat at a table, and Haybug was distracted, as Grandma and her sister sat and chatted, by a little girl who went up to the counter and bought a small box of "corn." (I am assuming this is the redneck term for popcorn.) She went to a table and the family of four shared the one tiny box of corn. Haybug watched with interest, not saying anything, while Grandma and sister ate their pretzel. Haybug sat there, watching, not touching her pretzel.
After a bit, Papa Gale came to pick the threesome up. As they left the little deli, Haybug went over and gently set her pretzel down on the table for the little girl to have. She didn't say a word, just walked out and went to the car. On the way home, she told the rest of the family about the incident, explaining what she had done and why.

Yes, today I had two Christmas gifts. Neither one cost me a cent. Neither one could be wrapped and put under the tree. But they are among the most valuable gifts I will receive this year--even if it's another green apple in a black velvet bag.

Merry Christmas to each and every one of you. I am so glad we have become friends through my blog, my various e-groups, and through whatever means we have met. May you find some special gifts of your own, and may you be willing to share them--like the pretzel.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Christmas from a Lamb's point-of-view

2006-12-01T12:19:00.000-06:00
Almost every family has their own holiday traditions. As long as we had kids at home, we had a live Christmas tree. With changes in tow, we opted for a small artificial tree. It seems strange to me, since I grew up in the middle of the Chippewa National Forest in northern Minnesota. I get it out the weekend after Thanksgiving.

We also had two of our daughter's dolls that played the part of Mary and Joseph for the "creche" under the tree. A small antique baby doll made it complete. When she moved to her own apartment, the Holy Family went with her. I'm glad she has them, but it looked really bare by our more demure tree, so I hauled three much smaller dolls out of my own doll collection, wrapped them in a soft gold-colored cloth and placed them on top of the organ. It looked just right.

The "final straw" in the manger scene was the addition of "Lambie Pie." Kevin, the youngest of our trio of kids, got Lambie Pie (he named it) when he was about 2 years old. It was already showing signs of being well loved when he found him in a corner at a garage sale. Kevin slept with Lambie Pie for several years, but on Christmas he knew that the proper place for the little ovine creature was there, watching out for the baby Jesus' well being. Like the original Holy Family, when the kids left home, Lambie Pie was nowehre to be found. Kevin said he didn't have him. Raquel went out in the storage shed out back to see if it was there. Nope. So, while it left a hole in the scene, it just didn't seem right to replace Lambie Pie.

Kevin, after several places of trying to find the "home" that felt right to him, settled in New Orleans. He went through several traumatic experiences there, and I am convinced that he had a guardian angel watching over him. One day I'll blog about his special angel. Meanwhile, he was determined to stick it out through Katrina's warnings, but at the last minute he sent a very short e-mail to his dad. "Have a ride out. Leaving. Will call when I can." Those were some of the most nerve-wracking hours we had ever spent. Did they make it out? Were they stranded someplace on a rooftop, waiting to be rescued? Not knowing is usually the worst part of waiting.

Ivan and I were gone for a bit to do some errands, but when we came home, there, sitting on the kitchen table, stood--Lambie Pie! It was as if it was a sign from God that Kevin was going to be OK. Ivan went over to the computer and there was a note from Kevin, stating that they were in a motel in some little town in Arkansas. They (Kevin and his dog, Windigo) were fine, and he gave us the phone number of the motel. No voice has ever sounded better!

A bit later, we had a call from our daughter, Raquel, who lives here in Grand Forks, ND. She had been going through some boxes and discovered that she had Lambie Pie. She couldn't remember packing it when she moved from our house to her own apartment, but that didn't matter. Lambie Pie was back, and both last year and this year he has stood proudly off to the side, guarding the baby Jesus. Yes, most people would think he is too tall to be there. Not after all he'd been through. He has become a symbol of the hugeness of God's love and grace and protection to us.

Last Christmas, our neighbor boy, Joel (about 10 at the time), came over and was looking at the scene on the organ. He went around to the organ bench and took something off it and headed back to the Christmas scene. Ivan has a collection of stuffed lions and tigers, in various and sundry sizes. Joel had taken two of the littlest lions and set them beside Lambie Pie. He grinned as he announced, "The lions shall lie down with the lamb. One day there will be peace on earth." So, the lions are there again this year. They, too, are a symbol of hope and faith in a better world. Will it be in our lifetime? Who's to say? I think it is a good thing that we can't see into the future. Without knowing, we still have hope and faith.

As I share the picture of our Christmas scene, and the story behind it, I wish you all a joyous and blessed holiday season. Despite some people's claims, God is alive and well!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Part business, part personal

2006-11-19T17:31:00.000-06:00
First of all, please excuse my absence. I've been--um, a little busy. I have changed publishers, which means re-releasing all 14 of my novels. It isn't all bad news, though, as Star Publish is doing a fantastic job on them, giving several of them brand new looks. You can see the 9 books that are already out. Yes, in just a little over 3 months they have gotten 9 of the 14 books available!

In addition, they have named me as their Marketing Director. That means that instead of just peddling my books, I am responsible to help a whole bunch of other authors make their books successful. So far, it seems to be working, and I'm having a blast. As I have said many times, this book business is the hardest job I've ever done, but it is sure the most fun one too!

One of my not-so-brilliant ideas as the Marketing Director for Star Publish was to put out a weekly online newpaper. In just over 2 months we have had over 700 viewers. You can find it here: http://starpublishnews.tripod.com . A new edition goes up every Sunday morning.
This morning, when I went to check on it to make sure everything was OK, I was delighted to see one of the ads on the site. I'm not sure how long it will stay there, but in the upper left hand corner, there was an ad for the New York Times! I laughed, thinking that none of the Star authors have made it onto the New York Times best-seller list, but we can honestly say that the New York Times came looking for the Star authors! They even PAID to get their name up there on OUR website! It's sort of like when I turned down WalMart and Sam's Club when they agreed to sell my books in their stores in our region. Why? Have I lost my marbles? Some of you would surely say so. The bottom line is that there was no bottom line. They required such a huge discount, plus all books returnable and the shipping paid both ways by the author or the publisher, so basically, the more books I sold there, the more money I would end up owing them. It's been a long time since I've taken any kind of a math course, but even I could figure that one out.

And now, to move onto the personal news. Our youngest son, Kevin, is returning to New Orleans. He will be fixing up a house that was damaged in Katrina for a fellow artist he knows who has moved on to Texas. He is also negotiating with a high class Italian restaurant there to be a chef. He has a friend (female) who wants to go back with him. They are both in the Orlando area now. She wants to work as a volunteer to help people rebuild their houses. I don't know that I like the idea of him returning to New Orleans, but a part of me is downright proud of that kid of mine!
Anyway, the other night when we were talking on the phone, he said, "Mom, I'll bet you can't guess what the gal's name is." I told him I had no idea. He said, "It is Jasmine, but everybody calls her Jazz." He laughed like mad, then said, "Look out New Orleans! Chef Kevin Smith is coming back, and he's bringing Jazz with him!!!!!" Hey, Louis Armstrong had nothing on my kid!!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Marketing, digging and miscellaneous

2006-06-03T17:45:00.000-05:00
If any of you are authors or have any product to sell (including yourself--no, sillies, not like that!), please stay tuned.
When my first book, Dunnottar, came out in June 2000, I not only had no clue about how to market, I didn't even know it would be expected of me! Oh, how quickly that truth set in! But where to begin, and how to go about it, and what tools do you need?
To start with, a good website--that you advertise widely--is critical. Then, building a good mailing list is essential. Those things work well on the Internet, which is a great place to start.
However, as my friend Billie Williams said in an email on a group today, nothing beats word-of-mouth advertising. My husband and I have a favorite restaurant where we eat several times a week. We have gotten to know the staff there and tonight when we were in there one of the gals came over to talk to us. She grinned and flipped open her little black book and showed me that she was carrying around one of my business cards. She said, "I always hold the book so the customer can see it. They almost always ask me what it is. So I slip it out and show it to them. Then I tell them that you are a regular customer." She looked a little nervouse, then she asked, "I don't suppose you have any more of them, do you?" I took about 50 of them out of my purse and gave them to her. "That should last about a week," she said.
So how can I afford to give away that many business cards? Don't they cost a lot? Not if you have discovered the great deals at www.vistaprint.com. They offer 250 free business cards ALL THE TIME. If you sign up for their newsletter, you will get incrediible offers for either great price slashes or--a lot of free stuff from time to time. Yes, you have to pay the postage, but it is minimal. You can upload your own photos for an additional $4.99 (the first time only), but they have over 70,000 images you can choose from. I just love matching fun, snappy words that match their images. I have gotten stuck on one phrase: "Explore Roads Less Traveled in a Janet Elaine Smith Novel." Oh, the roads I can travel over there. I've gone to the woods, up into the mountains, little winding paths, to the ocean, and even off into outer space.
Even if you are a bit shy, it is much easier to bring your book/product into the conversation if you have something in your hands you can give the other person.
I do have one word of warning, though. It is extremely addictive. I haven't played solitaire or Freecell for ages!

Now, moving on to research. One of the often overlooked resources is to go to old National Geographic magazines. I used it when I wrote House Call to the Past. They had several articles on Maria Hallett and Black Sam Bellamy, as well as Black Sam's pirate ship, the Whydah. And Maria, well, she was my 13th great aunt and she was accused of witchcraft after the baby she had by Black Sam died shortly after his birth. Well, National Geographic said reported that she used to go out to the coast on Cape Cod, where she would hang lanterns on the tails of whales to warn the sailors if there was trouble brewing on shore. Well, the National Geographic said kit, so it had to be true, right?
I also have an idea for a timetravel that centers around Marco Polo and his travels, which lasted about 20 years. In 2001 National Geographic did a three-part series on Marco Polo. Oh, in reading it, I could just feel the story in my head exploding from all the information!

And now for the miscellaneous. This is not writing-related, but it was such fun. We have a really cute little 10-year old boy who lives next door to us. He pops in every so often to see what we are doing. He loves to use Ivan's computer to play games, as they don't have one at home. He was born really prematurely. He weighed only one pound! He was in the hospital from July 5 until mid October. He has an awesome single mom, who absolutely adores him. Like many preemies, he was a bit slow in development to start with, but once he started to run the road of life, there was no stopping him. He is the smartest little cookie I've seen in years. We have become sort of adopted grandma and grandpa to him. (Our own kids don't seem to "get the hint," so we have to adopt a few strays here and there!)
Anyway, the other night he popped in and he said they had just had supper. I asked him what they ate. He said, "We had hamburgers french fries and Bush's baked beans." I told him, "I love Bush's baked beans." He hesitated a few minutes, then he said, "I told Mom I only wanted a few beans. She said that's all she gave me. Well, I counted them. There were 57 beans! That's way more than a few!!!!"

Ah, the things we learn from our youngsters, whether they are our own or borrowed ones!
And on that note, please keep on being creative, and keep on being creative.
If you have a fun story about your favorite kids' sayings, please leave it in a comment for us to enjoy with you.
Until next time,
Janet
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Just "Kidding" Around

2006-03-03T16:50:00.000-06:00

Quite a few years ago, when I was in my thirties, I took a high school girl out to buy a prom dress for her. We were having a blast. All of a sudden, she got real serious and she asked me, "Do you think you will ever grow up?" I thought for a minute or two, then replied, "I sure hope not." I don't see any point in it. Let other people be adults.

A couple of days ago, when I was calling bookstores about my books, I called a small independent bookstore on the Iron Range in Minnesota. We got to chatting, and I told her I had taught Vacation Bible School in the late 50s in many of the Iron Range churches and small towns. I was working with the American Sunday School Union. She said that she had attended one of those VBS's in a Methodist Church in Nashwauk. She asked me if my name had been Janet Hallett, and I said that was indeed me. She was one of the kids in that VBS. As we talked, we both remembered the same thing that had happened. There was a little boy (I don't recall his name, which is probably just as well) who was the son of one of the deacons of the church.
Since it was the week of Father's Day, the kids were all supposed to find a smallish flat rock, write a Bible verse on it with a marker, then shellac it for a paper weight. Each child was to present the gift to their father at the final program on Friday evening and read the verse on it in front of the group.
Well, that little boy did as he was told. I could hardly contain my laughter when I looked at his rock and he had written on it, in big bold letters, "Thou shalt not commit adultery."
I was just a teenager myself, and I wasn't comfortable with explaining to him what the word "adultery" meant. I tried my best to convince him to choose a different verse, but he refused. Finally, I asked him why he chose that verse. He explained, in a very rational way to him, that his father always said he never wanted to grow up, so that was the perfect verse for him. "He will never commit adultery. He doesn't want to become an adult."
At the program, he proudly presented the gift to his father, and I asked him to explain why he had chosen that verse, which he did. I doubt that that church has ever had more laughter--before or since!

I love interacting with kids. I have a good friend, Joyce, and her 12-year-old son Shane has a page on her blog. You can find it at http://kaleidosouls.info/KaleidoKid.html. I have gotten acquainted with Shane, and he is a real charmer. I was delighted when one day he sent me a copy of his first experience airbrushing. Yes, that is the picture at the top of today's blog. I love colors, and geometric designs fascinate me, so thank you, Shane, for your wonderful gift to me. I am delighted to share it with the rest of you.

I have one young adult book out. It is My Dear Phebe. It is based on the real letters that were exchanged between 10-year-old Phebe Irvine and her uncle. Phebe lived in Sault Ste. Marie, MI during the Civil War. Her uncle lived near Gettysburg, PA. Many teachers have been using this book in their classes, not just to teach about the Civil War, but also to get kids to open up and share their feelings of frustration and fear over all the "junk" that is going on in today's world. Kids then were scared of the same thing the kids of today are scared of.
This is a very special book to me. Phebe Irvine was my great-grandfather William Henry Hallett's mother-in-law (by his second wife, who was not my great-grandmother). The actual content of the letters, misspellings and all, are at the back of the book.
I have done quite a few online chats with entire classes after they have read My Dear Phebe. If any of you are teachers or have kids in school and they read the book, I'm available. Just email me at janetelainesmith@yahoo.com

So, to all the kids who might stumble across my blog, my hat is off to you. And no matter what they tell you, don't be afraid to hang onto that childlike mind you have. Even Jesus recognized the value of that when He said "Blessed are the children," and "Let the children come onto me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." If by the word "adultery" you mean "not becoming an adult," then by all means, go for it! If you look it up in the dictionary, just ignore it. Sometimes even Noah Webster made mistakes!
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Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

It IS a laughing matter

2006-02-02T09:05:00.000-06:00

Ivan and I woke up this morning, and Ivan began reflecting on how things have changed since we were first married--40 years ago. The rent for our first apartment was $53 a month, and that included the 4-channel cable TV service. The fuel oil to heat it cost $.16/gal. Gas for the car was about the same.

Now, we pay over $300/mo. for the lot rent to park our trailer house. OK, I know, to be politically correct, it is a "mobile home." It still feels like I'm part of the "trailer tramp circuit." But, be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.

Suddenly, a funny thought hit me. When Jesus was living here on earth, once he grew up and moved away from his mother and father, He had no home at all. It seems to me like He went from town to town, camping out with His friends. And then I thought about the time He spent with perhaps His closest and dearest friends--Mary, Martha and Lazarus. And how on one of His visits to them (in Bethany), He heard that Lazarus had died.

I think Jesus must have been a "man before His time," as perhaps He was worried about political correctness, too. I mean, surely tongues would wag and people would gossip about His staying with two single women! Such a thing! So, He did the only thing He could do! In order to "avoid all appearance of evil," He simply raised Lazarus from the dead so He would have a safe place to stay on His future trips through town.

A good comedian knows that "timing is everything." So it was particularly amusing when my good friend, Glenda, sent me an e-mail, picturing Jesus laughing. It was done by a fellow in Florida, at a seminary. He chooses to remain anonymous. I had never really thought about it before. Yes, I had often reflected on His delightful sense of humor as He spun tale after tale, calling them "parables." But the idea of Him out-and-out laughing? The Scriptures tell us that He loved the little children. Did He never laugh with them? Of course He did! He was human, just like we are.

So, as you go throughout the daily grind, take a little time to think about Jesus laughing. Laugh with Him. If you don't think you have any reason to laugh, just look around you at all of His children. There is nothing funnier than our fellow "human beans," as my dad used to call them!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Fantasies Fulfilled

2006-01-18T13:35:00.000-06:00

Have you ever dreamed of seeing your name in lights on Broadway, or of making the front page of the New York Times, or having Hugh Heffner call you to ask you to be a Playboy bunny?

I am a member of quite a few egroups, most of them related in one way or another to writing. One of those groups is The Writer's Life, founded by Dorothy Thompson. The other day Dorothy found a software program that allowed her to bring all of the members' dreams to reality. You can see the results on the webpage she has created at http://www.dorothythompson.net/Writersville.html
It reminds me of an incident the other day when I was watching BookSpan on TV. There was a fellow on, talking about some political book he had weritten. He was a US Congressman from Georgia. Ho, hum. Bo-ring! Until--and my ears perked up--he said "I graduated from high school in Deer River, Minnesota, in 1960." Wow! That's the same high school I graduated from--and even the same year! I waited until his name showed up again on the screen: John Linder. I remembered John Linder! I knew John Linder! We both made the National Honor Society the same year. We used to talk in the hall when he was a hall monitor and I collected the attendance sheets from the various classrooms and took them back to the office. I hurried to the cedar chest to get my yearbook. Sure enough, there he was! He was (like me) a little chunkier, a little (OK--a lot) older, and we both have a bit less hair. I laughed when I looked at the "Hall of Fame." John Linder was on there. For what? He was voted "Most likely to succeed." Well, I guess they were pretty much right on the money.

As I reflected on John Linder's success--and my own--I thought of the old song, "If They Could See Me Now." I imagine most of you know it, but just in case you don't, the words are at the bottom of this blog.

OK, so I'm still not rich. I'm getting "famouser" by the day. And as I sit here and think about what Dorothy has done to me, I have to wonder if she has really made my dream come true, or is this Ivan's (my "other half") fantasy?

If They Could See Me Now

Tonight at eight you shoulda seen
A chauffeur pull up in a rented limousine!
My neighbors burned! They like to die!
When I tell them who is gettin' in and goin' out is I!
If they could see me now,
That little gang of mine,
I'm eating fancy chow
And drinking fancy wine.
I'd like those stumble bums to see for a fact
The kind of top drawer, first rate chums I attract.
All I can say is "Wow-ee!
Looka where I am.
Tonight I landed, pow!
Right in a pot of jam.
What a set up! Holy cow!
They'd never believe it,
If my friends could see me now!
If they could see me now,
My little dusty group,
Traipsin' 'round this million dollar chicken coop.
I'd hear those thrift shop cats say:
"Brother, get her!
Draped on a bed spread made from three kinds of fur."
All I can say is, "Wow!
Wait till the riff an' raff
See just exactly how
He sign this autograph."
What a build up! Holy cow!
They'd never believe it,
If my friends could see me now!
If they could see me now
Alone with Mister V.,
Who's waiting on me like he was a maître d'
I'd hear my buddies saying:
"Crazy, what gives?
Tonight she's living like
The other half lives!"
To think the highest brow,
Which I must say is he,
Should pick the lowest brow,
Which there's no doubt is me!
What a step up! Holy cow!
They'd never believe it,
If my friends could see me now!
What a step up! Holy cow!
They'd never believe it...
They'd never believe it,
If my friends could see me now

Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

The famous, the infamous--and S-E-X!

2006-01-08T18:40:00.000-06:00
I have two guestbooks at my website (http://www.janetelainesmith.com). Why? I had one that I put on a "back page," since I discovered that if someone made an entry that I didn't want on there, I had no way to remove the entry. I figured nobody could find it. I later added a second one, that is on the home page. That one I can edit. Both of these guestbooks send me a notification e-mail when someone signs them.

The funny thing of it is, there are way more people who sign the "hidden" one than the one that is upfront and obvious. Now people have to really hunt to stumble across this guestbook. When I get the notification, I can click through and it goes directly to the guestbook. One day, out of curiosity, I went over there to see if I could find it on my own. It took me over 20 minutes, and that was without reading anything on any of the pages.

Now this is the part I don't understand. A lot of the people who sign that guestbook sign it from their work addresses. I wonder if their bosses know that they are spending who-knows-how-much time having fun at "my place" instead of working. Mind you, I'm not complaining. And for some reason, many of these people are either (a)Viagra salespeople, (b)people running porn sites, (c)insurance salespeople, or (d)used car salespeople. I don't understand why my website attracts this kind of a crowd. I don't write erotica. I hardly have S-E-X in my books, and when I do, it is usually between a married couple (as in House Call to the Past) or very discreet. It is certainly not graphic and explicit.

Sometimes, when I get a notification of a new signature, I go look to see who it is. Other times I just ignore them. Tonight was one of those nights when I decided to go peek at it. Well, guess what I found? THIS!

7 08.01.2006, at 09:39:31
Fullname: Paris Hilton
Email: nosasdsasdsa@saddsadh.com
Where are your from?: Paris Hilton
Homepage name: Paris Hilton
Homepage URL: http://paris-hilton.frix.be/
Reference:
How good do you think this site is:
Comments: I am Paris Hilton! I like this site! Thanks! Paris Hilton

I have to ask, "Will the real Paris Hilton please stand up?" Well, I do know Mary Higgins Clark and her daughter Carol, I have brushed virtual arms with John Grisham, I know Bertrice Small (my books sit next to hers on the bookstore shelves, too!) and am acquainted with the likes of Deb Stover and Millie Criswell. I've met some unbelievably famous people. I spent an afternoon with Ike and Mamie Eisenhower at their Gettysburg farm many years ago. I once attended a presidential banquet in Venezuela. I have spoken with more than one Venezuelan ambassadors. I have sat on Hubert Humphrey's lap. (I was in 6th grade, and my parents were horrified. Why? Because he was a Democrat! Oh, horrors!)

So, maybe this IS the real Paris Hilton. In the meantime, it's fun to wonder "what if..."

And if you want some fun, head on over to my website and see if you can find the "hidden" guestbook!

Make it a great day, friends.
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

I'M NO "SHRINKING" VIOLET

2006-01-03T18:42:00.000-06:00
It has only been a few days since I posted here about my experience, brief as it was, with psychiatrists, and I invited any of them who would like to have a copy of my Sampler to contact me. I further suggested that they print it off and put copies of it in their waiting rooms for their patients to read.

Well, I'm having fun with my non-resident shrinks. Twenty of them have asked for my Sampler. Four of them have written back to me. One of them said he printed it off, but since he was off for the New Year's holiday, his wife got ahold of it. He asked her about it, and she said, "Yes, I have read the first three, and I ordered all three of them from amazon." He then asked if I intended to help him pay his credit card bill if she ended up ordering all of them.

The second one e-mailed me late this afternoon. He said three of his patients came into the office for their sessions laughing, which was most unusual. When he asked them about it, all three of them said they had been reading the things the receptionist was handing out for them to read while they waited. He said, "You are making my job much easier, but I hope I don't work myself out of a practice."

The other two were just polite "thank you's" and telling me that they planned to take them to the office.

And then I had an e-mail from a woman who was a patient of one of the psychiatrists who had taken it into the office. She wrote, "Our session went very well, and he told me he thought I would be OK for two weeks. I always have a session with him every week. I argued with him, and told him I wanted to see him tomorrow again. He said I seemed to be much better, and it wasn't necessary. I asked him how I was going to read the rest of that book he gave me if I had to wait two whole weeks. He gave me your e-mail address and said you would send me a copy of my own Sampler. Will you, please?"

Yup, I'm definitely having fun with my shrinks. I'm not about to ask them if they think I have any "issues" I need to deal with, though!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Starting the Year with my Sanity Intact

2005-12-30T13:31:00.000-06:00
Have you ever wondered if you are really among the "sane ones" in the land, or are you as far out in left field as the rest of the Universe?

Many years ago, through some events that occurred with our children when they were in school, we (and several other families) were required to have a psychological examination. We weren't sure exactly what they hoped to uncover in the life of a couple of former missionaries and their kids, but we agreed to the exam, although somewhat reluctantly. The plus side of it was that when the psychologist completed the tests, we were all five given a slip of paper decreeing that we were indeed "of sound mind." When I think about it now, I wonder how many families can say that, and even have the paper to prove it.

A couple of days ago I had an e-mail from a woman who said she is a psychiatrist. She said that after she has had a particularly stressful day and patients who are really upset or difficult, she comes home and clicks on my website (http://www.janetelainesmith.com) for some fun. Now I have many different purposes I hope to achieve with my website: educating and encouraging other authors, selling my books, letting people see "the real me" behind my books, but above all, I want people to have fun while they are there. From the responses I get, both by e-mails and in my guestbook, I think it is working. Anyway, the psychiatrist said that she has shared my website url with her fellow "shrinks," and they now refer to me as "the psychiatrist's psychiatrist." She was also asking for a copy of my Sampler (which includes the first chapter of each of my published books, as well as a teaser to a couple of upcoming ones). I gladly sent it to her, and suggested that she might want to print a couple of copies of it off and leave it out on the coffee tables in her waiting room, as it would probably be more interesting to her patients than old magazines. She also asked if she could pass along the advice I have up currently on my homepage on what to do with your New Year's Resolutions to her patients.

On another front, Cate Cavanagh is an online friend I have known for several years. She is currently working on a new book, Quantum Spirituality. Here is an excerpt from that book:
"When I define the passive mind in terms of Quantum Spirituality, I am talking about a mind that in peaceful repose. Peaceful repose frees us of anxiety, guilt, remorse, sorrow and self-denigration.

With this aspect of Quantum Spirituality, I suggest the following books. (See below.)
For pleasure: Any book by author Janet Elaine Smith. Select a book from her numerous offerings at http://www.janetelainesmith.com/"

For more information on Cate Cavanagh and her books, visit her website at http://members.tripod.com/cate_cavanagh/catecavanagh/id29.html

If you would like a free copy of my Sampler, either leave a comment here requesting it or send me an e-mail at janetelainesmith@yahoo.com and put "Sampler" in the subject line.

On this eve of the eve of New Year's Day, may you have all your heart's desires in the coming year. Remember to be happy and have fun!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

My Life as a Book

2005-12-11T11:31:00.000-06:00
I have heard arguments both for and against the practice of selling used books. As an author, of course we would rather have everybody buy our books new, but if a person can't afford that, personally, I'd much rather have a person buy a used copy of one of my books than to not read them at all.

A while back, I decided to check out a used copy of Dunnottar that showed up on Amazon. It was at a very reasonable price. That pleased me. I hate the idea of one of my used books being sold for more than you can get a new copy for. I decided to contact the seller. He was located in California.

The man very graciously replied, explaining that the book was personally autographed by me. He described my signature, and I knew it was mine. I have a certain little squiggly thing I always put under my name. It's the same thing my mother always did under her name. He also said the insignia was "To Sally."

Now I don't claim to remember everybody's name I sign in one of my books, but I don't know a lot of Sally's. I do know one here in Grand Forks, ND, and she had purchased a copy of Dunnottar from me when it first came out.

I called our local Sally and asked her about it, and she was a bit embarrassed that she didn't have the copy any longer. She had let her daughter take it to the east coast when she left for college.

So, I contacted her daughter. Yes, she had read the book--and loved it! She had then loaned it to her roommate, who had read it and then taken it to her home in--you guessed it--California! She left it with her mother in California.

After they contacted her mother in California, we discovered that she had taken it to a local thrift shop "because she couldn't bear to let it just sit there without letting somebody else read it."

And that is where the man who was selling it on Amazon had found it. He read it, and then decided that he wanted to pass it on "because it was too good a book to just die."

So, from one single copy of Dunnottar, I have hopefully gained at least six devoted readers. I have heard from three of them, that they purchased (new copies) of the other two books of the Keith trilogy.

Next time you see a used book, stop a minute and consider where it might have been. I have a line on my website that says "A great book is like a great mind; it keeps on giving,
over and over and over again!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Let's play tag

2005-12-07T17:57:00.000-06:00
10 Reading Secrets

I received the following message in my e-mail box this afternoon. It came to me from Mary E. Tyler. I had fun contemplating this subject. I hope you will, too. At the bottom you will see the three people I meme'd. Please see their blogs for their responses, as well as Mary's (aka "dej") by clicking on the link to her blog.
I'd love to hear your comments here on what you consider important in your own reading practices. Now, it's lousy weather in most of the country, so it's a perfect time to put your feet up, cuddle up in your favorite afghan, sip on a cup of hot chocolate and read a good book.

Meme Tag is apparently when one blogs on a certain topic and then tags, via email, another blogger to write on the same subject. The topic is "10 reading secrets." I bet you have interesting reading secrets. Read more about it at my blog, http://www.figure-skating-blog.com/ dej

1. Read with two things in mind: entertainment and education.
2. Don't throw a book out just because something isn't "right." A long time ago I started to read a book called "The Irishman." It was set on the Minnesota/Wisconsin border, and the two states were divided by a river, which the author identified as the Red River. My mother was raised there; that river was the Mighty Mississippi. Hard to miss that on a map! I almost didn't read the book because of that, and I would have missed a terrific book.
3. Don't be afraid to try something new. I am an author, as well as a reader, and a woman wrote to me and asked, "Why should I read your new book? I have never read a timetravel. The whole idea seems stupid to me." I wrote back to her and told her if she would try it and didn't like it, I would buy it back from her. She read it, and wrote to me asking when my next timetravel would be out.
4. Don't get so high-and-mighty that you overlook some of the "good stuff." Both in research and in reading, I enjoy kids' books. I had great fun writing "My Dear Phebe," a young adult book. My next Christmas book, which will be out in Oct. 2006, will be a young adult. You won't want to miss sharing the exciting adventures of Carmen and Molly Mouse.
5. You can't always judge a book by its cover. However, most people do. If you see a book that intrigues you, because of its author, the title, whatever, give it a chance, even if you think it's the ugliest cover you've ever seen. Many authors have no say in what goes on their covers, so don't blame them!
6. Don't always opt for the library for your reading material. Granted, most of us don't have unlimited cash that we can spend on books, and reading library copies is better than not reading them at all. However, remember that the authors are trying to make at least a little bit of money, so your purchases mean a lot to them.
7. Don't be intimidated by an author, even if it is a very famous one. Authors love to hear from their readers. Check on google to see if the author has a website with a "Contact me" spot. If so, email them. If not, contact their publisher and ask them to forward your comments to the author.
8. If you read a book that you really like, make it your first choice of gift-giving. If you liked it, chances are somebody else will, too.
9. Encourage our kids to read. Whether or not you like the Harry Potter books (and I admit that I haven't read them), they have accomplished one thing: they have gotten our kids reading again. For that, I say "Brava, J.K. Rowling!" My parents instilled a love of books in me from the time I can remember. For this, I owe them a great big "thank you."
10. If you know an author, or if you meet one, don't be afraid to declare the next time you meet them "Hug your favorite author day." As an author, I love the recognition by my "fans." When I hoped and prayed daily for one of my books to be published, the idea of actually having a "fan" never entered my head! I thought it was only people like Dear Abby and Ann Landers who had fans. Now I have fans of my own, and one of the famous advice column twins is dead. I figure I'm winning this game--little by little.

I have meme'd the following three people:
Joyce Anthony - http://kaleidosouls.info/Blog.html
Dorothy Thompson - http://www.overthehill.blogspot.com
Myriam Maytorena - http://www.myriamsmuse.blogspot.com
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

It's family night tonight!

2005-10-25T20:59:00.000-05:00
There are times when you realize that being a part of that entity they call a "family" is about as good as it gets. This last week has been one of those times. Let me elaborate just a bit.

Our youngest son was in New Orleans and got out just before the roads were closed before Katrina hit. A couple he knew who lived next door grabbed him and his dog at the last minute and they headed--they had no idea where, but "north" was how they described it. They ended up spending a couple of weeks in Alabama, then they went to Orlando, where the couple had family. After shifting from one place to another and another and another, he landed a job, got a nice apartment, and was pretty well back in the swing of things. Then he got a check from FEMA to help him with his relocation expenses. I was SO PROUD of him when he accepted the check, as the costs had been quite steep, but he wrote back to FEMA, thanking them for the check, but telling them that he had a job, a place to live, and in the future please send the money to somebody else who needed it worse than he did. (They had told him that he was eligible for up to 18 months of assistance for rent.)

Then our daughter, who lives here in Grand Forks, was quite stressed out from her job situation. She had been approached previously about taking a manager position at Wendy's, but she had always turned it down because one of the other employees had told her that she had to work more hours than she felt she could honestly promise them and still keep her two other part-time jobs. They again asked her about taking a manager position, but this time at the store she had previously worked at. She didn't want to go back there, but she also didn't want to sacrifice her other two jobs. After a lot of bickering and their almost insisting that she accept the offer and/or at least move to the other store, she took the bull by the horns and went directly to the owner. He was surprised at some of the reasons she gave him for why she didn't want to do what he wanted from her. Seems that, as is so often the case, the employees will do all sorts of griping, but never go directly to the source. So, she is the new co-manager at the old store. We stopped there for supper last night, and she is so much more relaxed and happy. Yup, I'm proud of her, too.

Then, to top it all off, yesterday I got a letter from my ex-sister-in-law. I never had any problem with her, but she disappeared from all of our lives after their divorce, in 1971. She accidentally stumbled across my website and got in touch with me. I could hardly wait to get on the phone with her. We had a very long, wonderful phone conversation. She is as sweet as ever. Tonight I got the email for her son (my nephew) and I just sent a note off to him. Still have to get in touch with her daughter (my niece) but she lives near her mom in Alaska. For a little extra icing on the cake, she ordered several of my books from Amazon.com!

Yes, we have another son. He's our firstborn. He is a good kid, even if he did forget my birthday last week. I am sure he will make up for it one day soon. Or maybe he did the other night about a month ago when he called me in the middle of the night because he had just met a gal who had actually been to Blackduck, MN, a little tiny town that was near where I grew up. He wanted some more information about how we turned at the biggest tree after we passed Bina on Hwy. 2 to get to Blackduck. I asked him why he wanted to know that. He and the girl he had just met were at a nightclub in Las Vegas, where he lives, were going to do a comedy routine. It was open-mike night. Yup, he's OK, too!

Anyway, it's been a good week, family wise. Hope yours was, too. Your comments are always welcome.

Until next time.
Janet
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com

Somebody's knocking!

2005-10-13T21:33:00.000-05:00
There are all sorts of "knocking" ditties: songs, knock-knock jokes, and even movies. I have never been able to figure out why my husband asks me "Who's there" when somebody knocks at the door or "Who's that" when the phone rings.

Yesterday afternoon I was in the back rooom and Ivan was in the living room when there was a knock on the door. I heard him call out "Just a minute" and then his wheelchair went over to the door. There appeared to be nobody there, so he went back to his computer. In a few minutes, there was another knock on the door. He again went to see who wsa there. He thought maybe some of the kids in the neighborhood were playing tricks on him. Again, he saw nobody. Then he saw the visitor.

Several years ago we started to feed the squirrels who inhabit our trees. We put out an assortment of nuts, but our northern furry critters apparently don't have as tough a teeth as their southern cousins. Ivan decided to try some salted peanuts. Well, they were an instant hit!

But back to the mysterious visitor. He saw the squirrel scurry down the railing on the ramp, off into the spot where we put the nuts. He called me, and I came and fed the little guy. This afternoon we had a repeat performance. When I didn't come fast enough for him, he began scavanging around in the leaves that had fallen onto the ramp. He's the most impatient little critter! I guess I'll have to make sure they are loaded for him. Last winter he chewed through the electrical wires to the car a couple of times. Believe me, peanuts are a whole lot cheaper.

It makes me think of the verse in the Bible that says "Beware, lest you entertain angels unaware." Hmmm! Does God sometimes send angels as squirrels. Now I KNOW I have to keep feeding him. Besides, he is cute!
Read excerpts from all my books at http://janetesmithstarbooks.tripod.com More fun at http://www.janetelainesmith.com