Twins and Other Things That Are Born

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 I woke this morning with no clue it was Thursday, much less the third Thursday of the month. 

Oops. 

Covid-brain, you ask? 


Well, the days have certainly run together this year/decade/eternity of a pandemic. But it’s simpler–and tougher–than that. Backing up a moment, my daughter and her husband had twins in December. Talk about a Christmas surprise! Twins don’t “run” in either family, so R & E were a (delightful) shock and were quickly labeled Double Trouble. 

(Not my grandchildren, but aren’t they cute? =>) 


For the past three months, writing has been especially sporadic, since we’re spending our days tending babies. At first, it was simply they needed more hands. (How on earth did moms do this in the 50s when they were expected to handle all domestic chores alone???) Now, they have to work and even after a year on the waiting list, their day care doesn’t start until July. Yikes!

While I’m the first to say, you have kids when you’re young for a reason, it’s been interesting (the only all encompassing word I can come up with on one cup of coffee) to see all the ways things have changed. Part of me laughs about it, the rest says, seriously, I’m not that old a dinosaur. Of course, snuggling babies and the eternal maternal rock are the same, but now there’s probably an app for everything else. Seriously, there are lactation coaches, sleep assistants on call (but not at 2 AM when you need them), heated cleansing cloths, and an app to track every soiled diaper – including the relevant degree and color of the poop. 

I wouldn’t miss this time with my grandchildren. R is a charmer who already knows how to use her engaging smile and bright eyes to entice you to pick her up and play. E – aka Little Man – is more serious, loves jazz as much as I do, and puts much more effort into capturing fingers and toys with his lovely long fingers. (Yes, I’m getting him a keyboard as soon as he can sit up.) 

I promised both my daughters I’d never post pictures of their children on social media, a decision I whole-heartedly support. But the coos from the other room says it’s time to load up the stroller and head out. 

An award-winning author of financial mysteries, Cathy Perkins writes twisting dark suspense and light amateur sleuth stories.  When not writing, she battles with the beavers over the pond height or heads out on another travel adventure. She lives in Washington with her husband, children, several dogs and the resident deer herd.  Visit her at http://cperkinswrites.com or on Facebook 

Sign up for her new release announcement newsletter in either place.

She’s hard at work on Peril in the Pony Ring, the sequel to The Body in the Beaver Pond, releasing May 2021!) which was recently presented with the Killer Nashville’s Claymore Award. 

Superstitions: The Nutty Ties that Bind Writers and Actors

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by Barbara Kyle

 


Shakespeare was an actor. So was Dickens.

 

In a way every writer is, because when
we create stories we play all the roles inside our heads. It’s part of the joy
of writing.

 

Before becoming an author I enjoyed a twenty-year
acting career (here I’m with Bruce Gray when we starred in the TV series High Hopes) and I’ve found many commonalities between the two arts. 

 

 

One of the most interesting commonalities is superstitions. 

 

Actors are obsessively superstitious
about many things, and one in particular: the name of a certain play by
Shakespeare, the one in which a certain Highland lady can’t get blood off her
hands. 

 

Actors won’t say the name of this play
inside a theater. Instead, they call it “The Scottish Play.” Why? Because
it carries a curse.

 

– At
its first performance in 1606 the actor who was going to portray Lady Macbeth
(a boy in those days) died suddenly and Shakespeare was forced to replace him.

 

– In
1957 actor Harold Norman, playing the lead role, died after his stage battle with
swords became a little too realistic.

 

– During
a performance starring the famous Sir Laurence Olivier a stage weight crashed
down from above, missing him by inches.

 

And what if an unsuspecting soul makes
the error of uttering the name of this play inside a theater? Is there a spell
to remove the curse?

 

Yes, there is. You leave the theater,
spin around three times, spit over your left shoulder, and either recite a line
from Shakespeare or spout a profanity. Got it?

 

Writers have superstitions too and they’re
just as weird. Here are three that many writers hold:

 

– No
chapter can be 13 pages long because that number brings bad luck. Any chapter
that ends on page 13 must be revised to make it 12 or 14. (By the way, there’s
a name for the fear of the number 13: triskaidekaphobia. Try saying that three
times fast!)

 

– Many
writers can’t write unless they’re wearing a particular “lucky” piece of
clothing, like a certain sweater or a pair of slippers or a hat.

 

– Some
writers won’t give characters the same initials as friends — otherwise, the
person might suddenly have bad luck.

 

 

Some famous writers had their own pet
superstitions:

 

– Alexander
Dumas, author of The Three Musketeers, had to write all of his fiction
on blue paper, his poetry on yellow paper, and his articles on pink paper. No
exceptions.

 

– Charles
Dickens had to place the ornaments on his desk in a specific order before
beginning to write.

 

– Truman
Capote refused to begin or end a piece of writing on a Friday.

 

– J.K.
Rowling’s superstition is to hold off titling a piece until it is complete. She
said on Twitter: “I only type the title page of a novel once the book is
finished.”

 

If you’re thinking actors and writers are
a bit nuts, you’re not far wrong. After all, we spend our days with imaginary people.
As John Gardner said, “One must be a little crazy to write a good novel.” 

 

But it’s a happy madness. One meets such
interesting (imaginary) people!

 

So now I’ll cross my fingers, touch
wood, toss grains of salt over my left shoulder, and get back to work on my
new book.

 

Wish me luck.

 

Barbara Kyle

 

Barbara Kyle is the author of the bestselling Thornleigh
Saga series of historical novels (“Riveting Tudor drama” – USA
Today) and of acclaimed thrillers. Over half a million copies of her books have
been sold. Her latest is The Man from Spirit Creek, a novel of suspense.
Barbara has taught hundreds of writers in her online classes and many have
become award-winning authors. Page-Turner, her popular how-to book for
writers, is available in print, e-book, and audiobook. Visit Barbara at www.BarbaraKyle.com 

   

 

The Man from Spirit Creek

 
When Liv Gardner arrives in the rural town of Spirit Creek, Alberta, she
has nothing but her old car and a temporary job as paralegal with the
local attorney. But Liv’s down-market persona is a ruse. She is actually
in-house counsel of Falcon Oil, a small oil and gas company she co-owns
with her fiancé, CEO Mickey Havelock – and they are facing financial
ruin.

Farmer Tom Wainwright, convinced that lethal “sour” gas
killed his wife, is sabotaging Falcon’s rigs. But Wainwright is clever
at hiding his tracks and the police have no evidence to charge him. With
the sabotage forcing Falcon toward bankruptcy, Liv has come undercover
to befriend Wainwright – and entrap him.

But Liv never dreamed
she’d become torn between saving the company she and Mickey built and
her feelings for the very man whose sabotage is ruining them.

On a
rain-swept night, Spirit Creek is stunned when one of their own is
murdered. The evidence does more than point to Tom Wainwright . . . it
shatters Liv’s world.

 

The Man from Spirit Creek is available in paperback, ebook, and audiobook. 

 

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Untitled Post

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Marching On!

by Saralyn Richard

 


March is such a brave month! It begins with winds,
sometimes with the harshness of winter, and it ends with the first signs of
spring. This week, in particular, offers opportunities to acknowledge and
celebrate cultural traditions. Sunday was “Pi Day,” Monday was “The Ides of
March,” and tomorrow is “St. Patrick’s Day.”

March, for me, is the green month, so today I want to
talk about how the green of nature speaks to me as a writer.

A couple of weeks ago, my world was shaken by an
unusual natural phenomenon, the Texas Freeze. Many were the hardships from a
week of frozen temperatures, lack of power, lack of water, broken pipes,
caved-in ceilings, and more. I lived in Chicago for many brutal winters, but
Chicago is prepared—homes are better insulated, vegetation is not as delicate—and
I never experienced a disaster like this one.

I’d wrapped plants and tree trunks in sheets, towels,
and prayers. After everything thawed, and the temperatures returned to normal,
between 60 and 70 degrees, it was time to assess the damage. Here are a few sad
horticultural photos. There are many of these beloved plants and trees in my
yard, some I planted from seeds and have nurtured for years. I’ve fed and
watered them, pruned them, enjoyed their fruits.

 

As a writer, I can’t help finding the metaphor.
Sometimes, after careful creativity, production, revision, and planning, we put
a new novel out into the world. It flourishes and stands as a thing of beauty
for all to enjoy. It provides delicious fruit to please and sustain. And,
without warning, something unexpected comes along to knock it down. A biting review,
a competition lost, canceled launch events, a pandemic. Any of these can and do
discourage us, as authors.

 

But the month of March teaches us patience and
resilience. It teaches us hopefulness. The green buds of March, and the saucy
flowers of the azalea remind me that nature destroys, but nature also heals. That
same ebb and flow exists in the life of a book. A book club meeting can spark
new interest in a backlisted book. A sterling review from a respected source
can make an author’s heart sing. And there are always more contests and online
activities galore.

This year, St. Patrick’s Day will give me more reason
to celebrate the green. I’m more resolved than ever to March on!

How will you celebrate the green this year?

 

 

Lessons from a Year in Isolation

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by Paula Gail Benson

A year ago, so much of the life we were used to changed
as we learned that Covid 19 not only was deadly, but spreading rapidly. I have
a vivid memory of meeting with church council members and making the decision
to “postpone” our bi-annual presentation of the Living Last Supper. At the
time, we hoped this would be for a few weeks or months. We have not yet
rescheduled.

During this past year, I found myself retreating into
more solitary pursuits. I rediscovered the joys of reading books in series,
which I had not had time for in the last few years. In addition, I learned
about television programing and movies available on Apple and Prime.

Some of what I discovered took me to historical paths,
I previously had not explored. I had seen several movies and series about Henry
VIII and Elizabeth I, but I knew little about Henry VII and the War of the
Roses. Watching The White Princess, about Elizabeth of York, and The
Spanish Princess, about Catharine of Aragon, both based on books by
Phillippa Gregory, gave me a different perspective about English history and
the Tudors. In addition, going further back in time with the Brother Cadfael
stories, based on books by Ellis Peters and played by Derek Jacobi, made me appreciate
modern conveniences and customs in comparison with the medieval lifestyle.

Recently, my viewing had shifted to American history.
I discovered April Morning, based on a book by Howard Fast, that told
the story of a young man’s experience when the British troops marched from
Boston to Concord and exchanged fire with a group of colonists in Lexington,
known as the “shot heard round the world.” I tried without luck to discover
where the movie had been filmed.

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to go to Boston
for a conference. I went early and stayed late to do some sightseeing in the
area. The movie featured so many locations that were familiar to me from that
trip. In particular, I had taken photos of the stone walls along the road from
Lexington to Concord. After the colonists had so many casualties in Lexington,
they stationed themselves behind the stone walls to fire on the British troops
as they returned to Boston. Following the movie, I looked back at the photos I
had taken of those walls, having a new regard for the history that had taken
place around them.

Previously, I wrote here about watching What the
Constitution Means to Me, a filmed version of Heidi Schreck’s Broadway play
based on her teenaged experiences of competing in the American Legion
Oratorical contests for scholarship money. Having judged a local American Legion
Oratorical, I appreciated very much seeing the perspective from a competitor.

Over the weekend, South Carolina held its statewide American
Legion Oratorical competition. Unfortunately, due to Covid 19 continuing restrictions,
the national one will not take place this year.

I was pleased to be asked to participate as a judge for
South Carolina. My church hosted the competition and I found myself back in the
room where so many decisions had been made to cancel activities a year ago.


During the competition, in explaining how the
Constitution is a living document, one of the students spoke about the events
that took place around Lexington and Concord. It was wonderful to hear that a
young person had spent a year in isolation as I had, learning from the past and
appreciating its impact on the present and future.

In spite of our year
in isolation, we go on—still learning and applying the lessons of history to
our current time. Hopefully, next year will bring the opportunity to return to travels
and gatherings.

F8, F2, and no, they aren’t football commands by Debra H. Goldstein

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F8, F2, and no, they aren’t football commands by Debra H.
Goldstein

I bet I know something you don’t know! It’s something I’m not
even sure the protagonist of the Sarah Blair series I write for Kensington
knows. For those of you who don’t recall, Sarah, as she demonstrated in One
Taste Too Many, the first book in the series, is more frightened of the kitchen
than she is of murder. Although her amateur sleuth skills improve in Two Bites
Too Many, Three Treats Too Many and the upcoming Four Cuts Too Many, the
reality is that she still doesn’t really know the difference between a walk-in
freezer and a regular one or between a butcher’s knife and one used for
de-boning. That’s why I’m certain she doesn’t know what it means when an oven
stove combination flashes F8 or F2.

Sadly, I do.

I say sadly because I learned about each of these flashes
the hard way. My story, and I’m sticking to it, is that a few years ago, I
decided to clean my oven. I locked the door, turned the buttons accordingly,
and waited. Nothing seemed to engage properly, so I flipped the knob to off and
tried to start again. Suddenly, there was a sizzling sound, a slight flash and
everything was silent. The only thing out of

place was the F8 where the time on
the clock had been. I’d blown the brain of my oven. That one took about three
weeks from diagnosis to receipt and installation of the parts.

Recently, I’ve been doing a lot more cooking. Because my
usual fare was getting boring, I decided to try a service that my daughter
uses. For the past five weeks, I’ve ordered 2-4 dinners that come complete…and
luckily the ingredients are labeled because I don’t recognize half of them. My
husband and I have been pleased with the results and actually amazed that most
of the dinners look exactly like the pictures they send as a model for plating.

This is where the F2 comes in. One of the meals was small steaks,
a vegetable, and an au gratin type potato. The instructions called for slicing
the potatoes into thin slices, putting them in a tablespoon of oil on the stovetop,
coating them a bit, and then putting the cast iron frying pan or whatever one
used into the oven to finish them off while the steaks cooked – all at 350
degrees. Well, I don’t have a frying pan that I wanted to put in the oven, so I
took a cookie sheet – put the steaks on one side and the coated potatoes now
topped with some butter on the left and put everything in to bake. There was no
question that the potatoes got done like they should, but the steaks weren’t
the way we were going to want to eat them. They needed more time to cook.

I took the potatoes out, leaving the residue of them on the
cookie sheet, and turned the dial from bake to broil. Only problem, I forgot
the rack was higher than it usually is for broiling. Sitting in my sunroom, I
looked up at the oven and didn’t even need to put on a light to see the flames
coming off the part of the cookie sheet where the potatoes had been. Needless
to say, I put the fire out. As I did, I noticed that where the time is usually
reflected on the stove, it now read F2 – the universal message for the oven is
on fire.

Need I say anymore? Sarah Blair comes by her skills
naturally. Oh, and the steaks – perfectly seared. My husband thought it was one
of the best meals I’d made.  

A Ghostly Encounter

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I am a certified city of Charleston tour guide. Sometimes I give ghost tours. Once one of the tourists told me that what was scary about my ghost stories was that I told them as a matter of fact, not fantasy.

 

Well, it’s because I’ve had a few ghostly encounters. I thought you might like to read about one of them.

 

My best friend and I babysat at a house in Pinopolis, SC, where we lived. (Side note: it was a fantastic place to grow up!) We had never been told specifics about the ghost in the house, but I had lived at the house next door for a few years and had heard there was a ghost at this house, as there was one in the house I lived in as well, but that’s another story.


Pinopolis is a peninsula on Lake Moultrie outside of Moncks Corner, SC.

 

We put the children to bed. We locked the front door with the skeleton key and placed the key on the credenza all the way across from the front door. We checked the side door (near the dining room) and the back door in the kitchen. 


Once we put the children to bed, we did not check on them again as the room on the right at the top of the stairs gave off weird vibes. When I had to walk past it, and you didn’t have a choice as it was on the way to the rest of the upstairs, I would close my eyes and dash across the doorway, whether the door was open or closed, it did not matter.

 

In the past I had heard someone going up and down the stairs while I bathed the children in the tub between the den and the study. I never saw anyone, even though I would take the kids out of the tub and go investigate. 


A view of Lake Moultrie from a home in Pinopolis.

 

Anyway, back to that night … We had popcorn and a soft drink, probably Mountain Dew as we were big fans of Mountain Dew. We had just finished watching the Love Boat and Fantasy Island’s starting credits had begun. I was on the couch that was parallel to the wall at the bathroom. My friend was sitting in the lounge chair that was to my left and at an angle facing the television. We were both facing the opening to the hall and the television.

 

I got that eerie feeling that someone watched me. I glanced up at the door between the hall and the den. A little old lady peered at me around the door frame. Her hair was in a bun. She was short. She had on a dress. Her gnarled, arthritic-looking, fingers were gently placed on the door frame. She stared at me until I broke contact to look at my friend. She was staring at the same spot in the doorway. She practically levitated to the spot next to me on the couch after she said, “did you see that little old lady looking at you?”

 

We sat with our hands entwined until the parents arrived. They said the front door was wide open and they fussed at us. We asked them if there was a ghost in the house and gave the description. They were in disbelief, not because they didn’t believe us but because they said she never showed herself to anyone but family. (My friend is related to them, but she was staring at me, maybe trying to figure out who I was and why I was there so much?) The parents said it was the man’s relative who had been bedridden in later life and the room at the top of the stairs had been her room.

 

After that, whenever I babysat for the children I’d talk to the ghost and tell her what I was doing so she’d be aware, and maybe, hopefully, not appear to me again!


—-



Robin Hillyer-Miles lives happily in the Lowcountry of South Carolina with her husband, teenaged son, and three dogs. She’s supposed to be editing her latest novel to be self-published but she has been lazy. This new novel is based in a fictional town called Marion’s Corner, also located in the Lowcountry. It has a witch, many ghosts, and quite a few people of all ages looking for love. She’s published in short-story format and is the president of the Lowcountry Romance Writers of America.


follow her on FB: 

https://www.facebook.com/RobinHillyerMilesAuthorTourGuideYoga

 

Plotting Party

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 by Bethany Maines

Last weekend, I reached peak pandemic and hosted a gathering in my carport. It was a writer’s gathering, aka a Plotting Party, so there was a lot of sitting and staring at our notebooks. And also snacking and freezing. But, as with other joint writing gatherings I’ve hosted, we did use each other to work through problems in our outlines. No one asks more “but why?” questions than a writer except a four-year-old trying to stall bedtime. But why do you want a ball in your story?  But why is she in Ireland?  But why did the killer drain all the blood? Each story has it’s own answer and it’s fun to hear the reasoning that went into each one. 
Of course, being the writer in the hot seat isn’t quite as much fun, but it does serve an important purpose. Searching out the answers to those questions forces me to examine the clues in the story I’m writing as well as my intention for writing the character or story that particular way. When another writer points out that my characters motivations seem implausible I’m forced to confront why I want that scene or why I want the character to behave that way.  Being faced with well-intentioned friends who simply want to understand my story is the equivalent of Law & Order level third-degree. Pretty soon I’m caving and confessing that I just like something and I’ve been ignoring my characters motivations all along. 
But the added benefit of a plotting party is that I have additional minds to help me brainstorm. And with brainstorming comes encouragement and a cheering section that is irreplaceable. The pandemic has put a lot of things on hold, but creativity and friendship clearly haven’t been one of them. I see more outdoor plotting parties in the future, particularly as the weather gets warmer and I wish all of you a carport full of friends of your very own.
**

Bethany Maines is the award-winning author of the Carrie Mae Mysteries, San Juan Islands Mysteries, Shark Santoyo Crime Series, and numerous
short stories. When she’s not traveling to exotic lands, or kicking some
serious butt with her black belt in karate, she can be found chasing her
daughter or glued to the computer working on her next novel. You can also catch up with her on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and BookBub.

Gay Yellen: Imaginary Friends

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Dickie George was his name, my first imaginary friend. I was the only four-year-old among a household of grown-ups, so I suppose he was my way of having a ready-made playmate whenever I wanted an adventure.

At the dinner table, I would regularly share news of his latest exploits with my Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, and teenage aunt. And they lovingly played along.

For me, there was no doubt that Dickie George was real. I was a well-mannered child, but he enjoyed all kinds of tricky activities, doing things that would have gotten an ordinary kid in trouble, like the time he stuck a broom in Grandma’s washing machine. Yes he did.

Somewhere along the way to kindergarten, I lost track of Dickie George. But he remains in the family lore of my childhood, and in my memory, too.


Later, when I encountered the brilliant Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes comic strip, I would catch myself peering deeply into each panel in search of Dickie George, certain that he and Calvin were soulmates, and maybe even playmates. And Hobbes, too, all of them living together in the fantastical universe created by children’s imaginations.

I have new imaginary friends now, with names like Samantha and Carter and Lizzie and Gertie. As a grown-up author, I’m supposed to describe them as the characters in my books. Yet when I’m writing, they are as alive in my mind as Dickie George was so many decades ago. I often find myself following them and reporting on their activities, rather than forcing actions on them. Not always, but often enough that I can feel a trace of the little-girl me who once had an imaginary playmate. 


Did you have imaginary friends in your childhood?
What were they like? Please share in the Comments, below.

Gay Yellen is a former magazine and book editor. She writes the award-winning Samantha Newman Mystery Series: The Body Business and The Body Next Door. Book #3 is slated for release in 2021. Gay would love to hear from you, here, on Facebook, or at her website, GayYellen.com, where this post was originally published.

 

The Creative Process: Where Does it Start?

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Years ago, when my son and my now daughter-in-law Melanie were
dating, she stopped by my home office and asked if I’d like to see her
drawings. I didn’t know her well at the time, and I thought this would be a wonderful
ice breaker, so, I said, “Sure, I’d love to.” A little backstory, this young
woman was studying to be an R.N. “During my breaks, “she explained, “I’ve been
sketching the preemies in the nursery.”

I’d been prepared to pay her the requisite, “Good job.” What
I wasn’t prepared for was to be blown away by her talent. In charcoal pencil, she’d captured
the essence of these sleeping babies and the detail was incredible. I was both
touched and a little ashamed that I’d underestimated her.

Turns out, I wasn’t the only one. Her mother did too! In kindergarten
Melanie drew a picture of a dinosaur and took it home to show her family. “This is
terrific,” her mother said. “Did you trace this?”

Melanie Jane Addison (Age 5)

“No, Mommy, I drew it.” 

And that very very smart mother replied, “Well,
I guess we better enroll you in art lessons.”

Melanie Jane Addison Bell 

When I was young, I was a perpetual daydreamer and loved to write stories. Fortunately, I was encouraged by my parents and my teachers. Their generosity led me to pursue a lifelong dream of writing. 

I so appreciate parents, grandparents, teachers and others who acknowledge and nurture a child’s passion. The Creative Process: You just never know where it may lead. 

The Benefits of Podcasts by Kathleen Kaska

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Two years ago, I was asked to host a
podcast for a local business. Excited to take on something new, I prepared by joining
Toastmasters to improve my speaking skills, signing up for a one-day class to
learn the mechanics of podcasting, and taking a Creative Life class on
conducting podcast interviews. Always a big fan of NPR’s This American Life, I was happily surprised when that class was being
taught by Alex Blumberg, NPR’s producer and the show’s interviewer. Just like his broadcasts, he had me
hanging on every word. Saying his lessons were invaluable is an understatement.

 

Using what I learned, we recorded
and aired our first two episodes. One listener commented that they sounded like
NPR interviews. When I heard that, I knew that class had been worth it. Then we
got COVID-ed (metaphorically) while I was in the process of interviewing my
third guest, so the company pulled the plug on the podcasts. Needless to say, I
was disappointed because I loved being a podcast host. Even though that project
fell through, the lessons I learned about podcasting benefited me also as an
interviewee. Since many writers use this medium to promote their books,
learning the nuances of podcast interviews is just as valuable to podcast guests.

Here are
some tips:

1. Be
authentic. Don’t be afraid to look like an idiot. Laugh at yourself.

2. Pause before
punch lines, emotional moments, and important revelations.

3. As
interviewer, don’t ask yes-and-no type questions. Instead, ask questions that delve
into the subject. For example:

“Tell me
about the day you realized . . .”

“What
were the steps that got you there?”

“How did
that, or they, make you feel?”

And my
favorite question-preface (used when the interviewee is not sure how to
proceed, is hesitant, or unsure of what to reveal): “I noticed in your voice .
. .”

4.
Interview people with direct experience, rather than “experts.” It’s more
interesting to interview the passenger of a plane that’s been hijacked than the
airline’s official.

5. Once
you’ve chosen your topic and who you want to interview, create a two-statement
hook to grab your listeners’ attention. Example: “This is a story about a
family who sold everything to buy a boat and sail around the world. Then the
father, “abandoned ship,” returned home, and left the mother and three children
to fend for themselves.

6.
Conduct a short pre-interview to get to know your interviewee and decide on a
course of action.

Keeping this in mind, as
interviewee, rather than giving synopses of all your books, talk about an
interesting story behind the reason you write, how you developed your
characters, or why you chose your setting. Your listeners are more likely to
stay engaged until the end. And by discussing the interview ahead of time and
giving thought to what you want to cover, you will help the podcast host move
the interview in the direction you want to go.

 

Here are two podcasters I highly
recommend: Laurel McHargue’s Alligator Preserve Podcast ( https://leadvillelaurel.com/). Laurel has hosted me twice, on February 18, 2021, and on
February 10, 2019. The links to each follow. Take a look and see how I improved
in the second interview, which occurred after taking Blumberg’s class. You
don’t even have to watch the entire interview to notice the change.

https://www.youtube.com/embed/wkqtbNjBDcM

 

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yf1MpsDeh60

Also,
there’s Linda McHenry’s The Writer’s Voice: (https://lindamchenry.com/the-writers-voice-podcast/).

You can find my interview (Episode 36, on January 27, 2021)
by clicking on “Listen to All Episodes.”  

 

Awarding-winner
author Kathleen Kaska writes mysteries, mysteries trivia, nonfiction, blogs,
stage plays, travel articles, essays, and poems. Her latest release, The Sherlock Holmes Quiz Book, was reissued by Rowman and Littlefield (Lyons
Press). Kathleen writes the Sydney Lockhart Mystery Series and the Kate Caraway
Animal-Rights Mystery Series. Her first two Lockhart mysteries, Murder at the Arlington and Murder
at the Luther, were selected as
bonus-books for the Pulpwood Queen Book Group, the country’s largest book group.

When she is not writing, she spends much of her time with
her husband traveling the back roads and byways around the country, looking for
new venues for her mysteries and bird watching along the Texas coast and
beyond. Her passion for birds led to the publication The Man Who Saved the Whooping Crane: The Robert
Porter Allen Story (University
Press of Florida). Her collection of blog posts for Cave Art Press was
published under the title, Do
You Have a Catharsis Handy? Five-Minute Writing Tips. Catharsis was the winner of the Chanticleer
International Book Award in the nonfiction Instruction and Insights category.

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