Life keeps getting in the way

     I can't believe I haven't been here since the end of February. I apologize to all my regular readers. What have I been doing? The first thing that comes to my mind is I've been living my life which, by the way, has gotten somewhat hectic. No, I haven't stopped writing. I've managed to fit that in whenever I have time to sit down. 
     I'm still running my business, although the house is still up for sale and I hope to be living in Vermont by next year at this time. The bed and breakfast started getting really busy again the end of January. It stayed that way through most of May. But has begun to slow down again. We got through the Kentucky Derby with two new helpers. The employee thing has been in flux since John quit last Christmas. Hoping it'll stabilize soon.  
     I am still working on re-writing the first three chapters of my memoir, Operatic Divas and Naked Irishmen. It is definitely getting better, but still is not where I want it. I've included excerpts from my first chapter below

Operatic Divas and Naked Irishmen

Chapter1
The Big Move

      At sixty four, divorced and retired, with my family scattered around the United States, I made the most impulsive decision of my entire life. With no prior business experience and little start up money, I moved to a new city where I only knew one person, bought a 125-year-old historic mansion, and opened a bed and breakfast.

      It was June 1995, eight months before I opened my bed and breakfast. My furniture was in the van and I was all packed and ready to leave Chicago.The movers slammed the heavy doors together and walked around to the front of the moving van; I watched them from my third floor apartment window as they climbed up into the cab, then I started toward the front door. What if they forgot something? I decided to take another look around.

     As I walked past the front door and circled back down the wide hallway into the apartment again, the squeals of my little three year old grandson echoed in the hall near the empty bookcase where the stereo had been.Alek and I had danced there to Old MacDonald Had a Farm over and over…twirling and laughing, enchanted by the music. Despite my oldest daughter Kylie’s attempts at pulling away from me emotionally, she did allow me to bond with my first grandchild and Although I knew I had to leave Chicago, leaving Alek would be very hard. When I told Kylie I was leaving, I'll never forget the look of relief on her face; it hurt so much...like salt in an open wound.
      I walked toward the windows at the front of the apartment as sunlight from the living room began to creep into the dim hallway, falling on the glossy hard wood floors that extended straight ahead and throughout the entire apartment.

     Living in the big city had become way too expensive and I knew I had to find some place cheaper. and, although I loved Chicago and this apartment, I had nothing really tying me here except Alek, as Maggie my closest friend had already retired and moved back to her home town in Kentucky.

     ...I took a sharp turn to the right and, walking into the sun room, stopped at one of the windows to look outside again as bright sunlight fell against the panes, warming my cheeks and flooding my eyes so that I could barely see the van still parked in front. The sun room was a charming little room just big enough for a round pedestal table, four chairs and a few more plants, where last Christmas I draped the table with a red and green plaid cloth and invited all my closest friends as well as the gang from Crane High School and my daughters to a farewell get-together.16 minutes ago

      I filled a crystal punch bowl with creamy eggnog, as they began to arrive, and circled it with little crystal cups, wedging in red satin bows and sprigs of holly.“ So you’re leaving us, eh?” Mario walked into the sun room flashing that beautiful smile of his. He and I had been colleagues at Crane High School; his classroom right across the hall from mine.

    
     “Yeah, I’m gonna start my second career” I laughed a little nervously as I told him.

     “Bet you’ll be glad to get away from the little darlings?’

     “ Not really, Mario. I’ll probably miss everyone like crazy.” Mario and I never socialized outside of school, although I wouldn’t have been against gazing into his dark brown Italian eyes at dinner in some nice restaurant. But we took breaks together at school and talked about the kids a lot. I loved being a teacher and was always thinking up ways to entice them to learn.

     “What are you going to do in Louisville? You bought a house there, right?” Angie said.

     “Yeah, a beautiful, Victorian, like the ones down on Fullerton Avenue. Only those in Louisville are a lot cheaper. But just as big.”

     “ How big?”

     “Almost forty five hundred square feet. Five bedrooms and three baths.”

     “And you’re gonna live there all by yourself? Marcie’s eyes widened.Saturday at 9:11am · Like · 4

I guess they all thought I was crazy cause the whole room looked over at me in awe.

     "I’m turning it into a bed and breakfast.”

     “A bed and breakfast?” everyone said in chorus. You would have thought I’d said I was jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge.

     “I never heard you talk about wanting a bed and breakfast,” Angie said.

     “Me neither.”

     “Me neither.” By now I had the attention of the whole room.

    
     “I never really thought about owning one until I saw this house,” I said.

     “You mean you’ve decided to open a bed and breakfast cause you want a Victorian house? Marcie asked.”

     “Yeah, she’s crazy, right?” Mario looked straight at me and winked.

     “I am not. This is a brilliant idea. I can live in a beautiful, historic home and make some money at the same time. The business will pay for the mortgage.

    
     “I didn’t know you knew how to run a bed and breakfast.” someone across the room said, with a smile and a modicum of sarcasm.

    “Well, actually I don’t, but how hard can it be?” I said, trying to convince myself.  I had a very romantic notion of what a bed and breakfast was and had no idea it was a business. I know, unbelievable for someone who’s supposed to be fairly intelligent. But stupid or not, I was doing it. I was such a risk taker, the thought of doing it excited the hell out of me.

      It was hard to believe I had lived in Chicago thirty years. I did a lot in those thirty years….got divorced three times, earned degrees in education and music, taught high school, worked on a Ph D and traveled in and out of the country many times.  I was thirty four when I moved there and now, at sixty four, I was about to start a new career, one I knew absolutely nothing about. I must be nuts …starting a new business at age sixty four in a town where I only know one person. I stood there for a moment staring at the empty room.  A shiver slowly made its way up the back of my spine. Yes, it would be an  adjustment, but I’d gotten through three divorces, my first husband’s suicide, and the death of my beloved grandmother and felt emotionally stronger each time the grieving was over.

* * * *

  ...I turned and walked through the French doors into what was originally the dining room. It made a wonderful airy office space. I loved the hard wood floor and the oriental rug that had covered it. At the far end of the room, I’d moved in a second desk strictly for writing and sat working on my Apple computer day after day. It was in that very room I first started writing my dissertation.

    My one year Sabbatical had begun in September almost three years before. I registered at the University to work on an advanced degree. Since the Board of Education required a complete physical every few years, I made an appointment at my clinic to do it before classes started. A couple of days after my appointment, the clinic called saying they found something suspicious on my mammogram. They suggested a biopsy. As I often do, I went into denial and put it off until October. I finally went in as an outpatient on my birthday, October ninth. The results were not good and I was told I needed a lumpectomy and probably radiation and/or chemo. I had stage one breast cancer.
    I did not quit school and go into cancer treatment hibernation.  I continued as planned. Every day, for eight weeks, I went to the Michael Reese Cancer Center for radiation in the early morning, took classes at the university in the afternoon, and worked as a teaching assistant, in the evenings. That’s how I had always handled unpleasant things. I threw myself into the solution or the business at hand, or just went into denial for a period of time and dealt with the aftermath later. I’d gotten very good at it over the years. I was great in a crisis.
     I spent most of my recuperation period alone. Although Kylie had taken me to the hospital for my biopsy and lumpectomy, she did not offer to help in any way afterward, nor did she call to see how I was doing. In many ways, I wasn’t surprised. Thank God for Kristie, who called and emailed on a regular basis and let me know frequently how concerned she was. In fact she offered to make the trip from Austin, where she lived, to Chicago to be with me a while. But, as usual, I preferred to handle the situation alone.
     The radiation was scary to me, so I helped myself through the fear and anger by drawing pictures of  "The Radiation Team from Hell.” They sat hunched over on motor cycles wearing helmets and goggles and looking fierce as they came after me dead on. I pasted them on the wall over my dissertation desk and talked to them disparagingly every day. Somehow, this diffused their power over me…a technique I learned while reading how psycho-therapists treated patients with panic attacks. As usual, I got myself though another traumatic ordeal.
     My cancer was only stage one, so fortunately they got it all with a lumpectomy and I hadn‘t needed chemo. I treated myself to the summer in Africa. It was very expensive, but I’ve never regretted it.  It took me away from the angst of  a year of studying, teaching, and cancer. And it helped with the depression that came once that year ended and my mental state plunged.
     I went on Safari, gorilla trekking, and sight seeing…from Kenya to Tanzania. to Lake Kivu, Burundi, Zaire, and Rwanda. Over that summer, my state of mind gradually stabilized. When I returned to Chicago, I was ready for another year of teaching choral music, and Chaucer to high school kids. I was glad to get back to teaching. I loved it, and it took my mind off of everything else.
    I finished checking the apartment for things the movers might have left behind and looked out the window again. This time they were gone, on their way to Louisville, Kentucky. I hated to leave this place but decided I better get on the road. It was a five to six hour drive straight down I-65 and I wanted to get there before dark....

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Digging Deeper

     I know I'm vacillating back and forth, but I honestly don't think that's a bad thing. After all, I'm not in a hurry. I mostly started writing my memoir to see if I could do it and because I simply love the process and activity of writing. When I thought I was finished, after several re-writes, I queried a handful of agents. Several of them requested I send them my MS but that's as far as I got. There were no real takers. Fortunately though, I got valuable feedback. The majority said my writing was good, but the one remark that stood out loud and clear was that I needed to dig deeper.

     OK, so I need to dig deeper. Now that shouldn't be too hard should it? Alas, I was wrong about that. It was very hard. I didn't know where to start. In fact, I was somewhat confused about what that meant and how to do it. I went back to the journals and the how-to books to find the answer. Some were helpful, like Stephen King's and a couple of others, but most were not.

     I finally realized it was up to me to find a way. So I began sitting with a scene for hours, first thinking about it, then picturing it, and finally feeling it, trying to get to the soul of it. I would ask myself How did I feel when this happened? or ...when he of she said this or that to me? I was working on my first three chapters, 'cause those are the ones most agents ask for. I was actually making a modicum of progress, but it was taking forever. Finally, I decided to hire a content editor.

Best idea I've had in a long time. She was great. She pointed out all the places I needed to reveal more about myself, about my feelings, my motives, my thinking and so on. She also included suggestions and asked questions that got me thinking. I printed out all her edits and re-read my first three chapters, referring to her notes and making changes as I went along.

When I finished, I was delighted with the result. My chapters may not be perfect, or even salable ( I'm not a publisher), but the pages have come alive. 

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More research on the Purple Gang

 After doing a little more research, I found this: "Detroit's Infamous Purple Gang was one of the most notorious organized crime groups of the 20th century. The gang  evolved from a juvenile street gang through their rise to power and eventual self-destruction. They exemplify the dark side of the  Prohibition-era in Detroit history. Detroit had a gold rush atmosphere and a thriving black market during the 1920s that attracted gangsters and unsavory characters from all over the country."

Detroit News July 16, 1999
Article by Paul R. Kavieff:  http://apps.detnews.com/apps/history/index.php?id=183#ixzz2KEgZFLa4

Rum running

"With the advent of Prohibition in Michigan on May 1, 1918, the young delinquents quickly graduated from nuisance types of street crime to armed robbery, hijacking, extortion, and other strong arm work. They became notorious for their high profile manner of operation and their savagery in dealing with enemies.


     The four Bernstein brothers, Abe, Joe, Raymond, and Isadore (Izzy), soon became the recognized leaders of the mob. The Purple Gang was never a tightly organized criminal syndicate but a loose confederation of predominantly Jewish gangsters. By the early twenties, the Purples had developed an unsavory reputation as hijackers, stealing liquor loads from older and more established gangs of rumrunners. The Purple Gang always preferred hijacking to rumrunning and their methods were brutal. Anyone landing liquor along the Detroit waterfront had to be armed and prepared to fight to the death as it was common practice for the Purples to take a load of liquor and shoot whoever was with it. In the early years, the Purple Gang preyed exclusively on other underworld operators, insulating them from the police.

     The young Purple Gangsters came under the tutelage of two older and established Detroit mobsters in the early twenties named Charles Leiter and Henry Shorr. These two men operated a legitimate corn sugar outlet on Oakland Avenue known as the "Oakland Sugar House." Leiter and Shorr became the mentors of the Purples using the younger men for strong arm work, extortion of local businesses, and to muscle in on the alley brewers to whom they sold bootleg supplies. As a result, the Oakland Sugar House Gang was born, in reality only an early phase of the Purple Gang's evolution.

     With their numbers swelled by the influx of mobsters from other cities who came to Detroit to cash in on the golden harvest of Prohibition, the Purple Gang prospered. The mob soon branched out into other rackets. During a period of strife in the Detroit area cleaning industry, the Purple Gang was used as terrorists by corrupt labor leaders to keep union members in line and to harass non-union independents. This conflict became known as the Cleaners and Dyers War. Bombings, thefts, beatings, and murder were all methods employed by the Purples to enforce union policy. They were paid handsomely for their services. The labor war ended with the Purple Gang Trial of 1928 in which all of the Purple Gangster defendants were eventually acquitted. The gang emerged from the trial unscathed and became the dominant power in the Detroit underworld. The Purples ruled the Detroit underworld for approximately five years from 1927 to 1932.

In September 1928, Purple Gang defendants were found not guilty of extortion in the "cleaners and dyers war." This photo shows the prosecutors, defense lawyers and defendants during the trial before Judge Charles Bowles.

     The gang rose to underworld prominence rapidly after a machine gun massacre at the Milaflores Apartments in March of 1927. Three imported gunmen suspected of killing a Purple Gang liquor distributor were butchered in the ambush. Fred "Killer" Burke, famous for his role in the St. Valentine's Day Massacre in Chicago in 1929, was hired by the Purples as the machine gunner. Two other notorious Purple Gang gunmen also participated.

     During the late twenties, the Purple Gang reigned supreme over the Detroit underworld, controlling the city's vice, gambling, liquor, and drug trade. They also controlled the local wire service which provided horse racing information to all of the Detroit horse betting parlors and handbooks. The gang even became the suppliers of Canadian whiskey to the Capone organization in Chicago. This arrangement was made after Capone was told by the Detroit underworld to keep his operation out of the city. Capone thought it more prudent to make the Purples his liquor agents rather than go to war with the gang.

     For several years the Purples enjoyed almost complete immunity from police interference as witnesses to crimes were terrified of testifying against any criminal identified as a Purple Gangster. Jealousies, egos, and inter-gang quarrels would eventually cause the Purple Gang to self-destruct.

The "Collingwood Manor Massacre" in 1931 took the lives of Hymie Paul, Isadore Sutker and Joe Lebowitz. This illustration from the old Detroit Times shows how the bodies were found in the apartment.

     In 1931 an inter-gang dispute ended in the murder of three Purples by members of their own gang. The three men had violated underworld code by operating outside the territory allotted to them by the Purple Gang leadership. Three members of the "Little Jewish Navy," a group of Purples who owned several boats and participated in rumrunning as well as hijacking, decided they would break away from the gang and become an underworld power themselves. The three men, Hymie Paul, Isadore Sutker aka Joe Sutker, and Joe Lebowitz, were lured to an apartment on Collingwood Avenue on September 16, 1931. They believed they were going to a peace conference with Purple Gang leaders. In reality, they were only going to their deaths. After a brief discussion, the three unarmed Purples were shot to death by the Purple Gangsters they had gone to meet. A bookie named Sol Levine, who had transported the three men to the fatal rendezvous, was arrested soon afterwards and was quickly frightened into becoming a State's witness. Levine had been allowed to live because he was a friend of Ray Bernstein. The State had a live witness to the murders and Levine's testimony was devastating. Three of the four Purples involved in the incident which became known as the Collingwood Manor Massacre were quickly arrested. Irving Milberg, Harry Keywell, and Raymond Bernstein, three high ranking Purples, were convicted of first degree murder in the Collingwood Manor Massacre and sent to prison for life.

     Although the Purples remained a power in the Detroit underworld until 1935, long prison sentences and inter-gang sniping eventually destroyed the gang's manpower. The predecessors of Detroit's modern day Mafia family simply stepped in and filled the void once the Purple Gang self-destructed.

From The Detroit News: http://apps.detnews.com/apps/history/index.php?id=183#ixzz2KEha69oG

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Back to the drawing board

Had to readjust my New Year's Resolutions a bit. I decided to re-write my entire first memoir....all twenty two chapters. Based on lots of good feedback from agents, I radically changed the format of the first six chapters and carefully crafted some of the chapters. This, of course, has left my new memoir sitting on a corner of my desk, but at least I'm writing....lots, and every day. And, I have continued to write articles, and keep up my four blogs and the one for the Louisville Bed and Breakfast Association.

My focus, in the re-write, was on going deeper with my story, especially in terms of the narrator and how she changed over time. I also tried to emphasize and develop some of the conflict that arose between her and other characters. I've had to look at this work as you would a work of fiction and make sure all the major parts; such as, character development, dialogue, plot, story arc, etc are well crafted. This is no easy task, especially for a memoirist who isn't used to applying fictive techniques.

Anyhow, I will be back to my second memoir soon. I first want to send out more queries on the re-write. I only sent it to a small group the first time. I got good feed-back and a lot of good suggestions for making the work better.  Thanks to all the agents who were so positive. It gave me hope.


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Writing Resolutions

In 2013, I will be focused on selling my bed and breakfast and moving to New England. It's a big undertaking and requires a lot of planning, organizing, and time. My resolutions for the New Year are not completely worked out but they will all center around finding time to write while carrying out my plan to move by the summer of 2014.

I resolve to work with my two realtors, one here in Louisville and the other in Vermont to come up with a plan to sell my Victorian home (which is also my bed and breakfast), hold an estate sale (to pare down the furniture I'll take to Vermont), and  find a condo in and make a smooth transition to a small town near my daughter in Burlington.

I further resolve to make time to work on my new memoir, while still running my business and making plans to move. I will spend half my writing time on the extensive research my new project demands and half on creative sessions to develop a first draft. In addition I will  post on my book and writing blogs at least twice a month and continue to develop my platform on social media sites.

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Emergent memoir update

Monday (12/17): Since last I posted about my new memoir, I 've gotten lots of comments suggesting that I emphasize the sensational parts of my story, such as my mother's relationship with a member of the Purple gang during the 1920s and the incidences up in the mountains of North Carolina when my grandpa and his bothers were making Moonshine and running from the revenue agents. (I love long sentences!)

I am not averse to hanging out my dirty laundry, as I've learned that my family is not much different from most. We all have our dirty little secrets we'd rather not disclose, but it's important to me as a writer of memoir to be honest and authentic. Not that I'm looking for shocking events from my family's lives to expose but, if it's an integral part of the story, I do not want to be afraid to write about it.

The Purple gang connection has piqued my curiosity. In addition, I received an email from the brother of an on-line writer friend, who is writing a book about that era and the gang. He wants to exchange information, and I'm tempted to do so, only I really don't have a lot of information. So, I've decided to do some research about how my mother met this person, where she was living, and what she was doing at the time. 

Tuesday (12/25): I've started my research on the "Purples" and, honestly, what I've found so far is somewhat frightening. I'm not sure I want to pursue this. And, I can't believe my mother would have been involved with a man who was part of this gang.  She was a gentle person, beautiful and loving. At least as far as I know. But I only really "knew" who she was, after I became an adult. Before that, I saw her through the eyes of a child.......(more later)

Saturday (12/29): With Christmas over and my family gone, I've returned to my research. I'm going to give it another try even though the last exploration turned up some awful things about the Purple gang that turned me off temporarily. Today, I'm trying to figure out how and where my mother met her gangland boyfriend who, according to my sister, wasn't her boyfriend for very long. 

Seems my grandmother was in the room when my mother received a Christmas gift from him. It was a huge box that contained a sable coat with a diamond ring in the pocket. Guess the family, including my mother, had thought he was a nice young middle class boy with a crush on their daughter. When Roxie (my grandmother) saw the coat and ring, she freaked out and made my mother send it back and break up with him. Roxie, the matriarch,  always had good instincts and suspected immediately that he was part of  the Purple gang which, at that time, was running rampant in Detroit. Guessing again,  he may have looked like someone she saw in the newspaper.



  

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My Next Big Thing

I had the pleasure of being selected to participate in a blog hop called My Next Big Thing. I was tagged by professor, blogger,  and creativity expert Michele Tracy Berger and asked to respond to the following ten questions concerning my most recent project.

1.  What is the working title of your book?
I’m working on my second memoir, Roxie, Alfred, and Me. I just started it and have only completed a few chapters, but have come up against some issues I didn't have to deal with in my first memoir. It's an interesting challenge.

2.  Where did the idea come from for the book?
If you've ever had wonderful grandparents, grandparents you were very close to and loved more than anyone in the world, then watched as they withered away with age and died, you will understand my story. I knew no more caring and generous people in my life. They loved me, they listened to me, and they understood me like no one else did. They were creative, intelligent, and lived life to the fullest. My grandfather, Alfred, was my pal and wanted me by his side to share his love of the sea. My grandmother, Roxie, watched out for me. She was sensitive to my feelings and respected me as a individual. The pain of losing them has never really dissipated. I write this in memory of the two of them and in hopes of finally facing and dealing with the loss of them.

They are both in my heart  and will always be. And, even though it has been years since they passed away, within six months of each other, my emotional feelings remain close to the surface. I don’t know if it’s possible but I’m hoping, by writing about them, I will be able to talk about them openly without tears flooding my eyes and falling down my cheeks.

3.  What genre does your book fall under?
I am a non-fiction writer who frequently writes journal articles and essays. But I have a penchant for memoir. This will be my second one in book form, and I’m sure there will be more after this one.

4.  Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
Max von Sydow, now 82 years old, would be the perfect actor to play my grandfather. In fact, my grandfather looked a lot like him, especially after his hair turned snow white. There’s a shyness and a creative intelligence about von Sydow that my grandfather also possessed. Despite being Swedish, I’m sure von Sydow could capture my grandfather’s voice and stature.  Both men were thin and tall, close to 6 ft. 4 inches. “I'm a family person” wrote von Sydow. ”… rather private and enjoy my work. I like nature and being outdoors. I'm a gardener at my summer home and like to travel.  I really don't know myself too well.” This quote by von Sydow could have been my grandfather talking. It sounds so much like him. (They are both from middle class families.)

Although a little shorter than my grandmother, there is a striking resemblance between Rosemary Harris, the actress and Roxie.  My grandmother had the same beautiful smile and bright, intelligent eyes. Again as with von Sydow, Harris is not an American but, being an actress, I’m sure she could portray Roxie in speech, stature, and mannerism with no problem.

5.  What is the one-sentence synopsis of your manuscript?
A story about family and significant relationships and events that leave an indelible mark on one young girl’s entire life.

6.  Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
I have recently decided to self publish my first memoir and, since I think this one will be much better than the first, I will be looking for an agent in hopes of getting it published traditionally.

7.  How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
I am not finished with the first draft yet. I usually write pretty fast. I love the feeling of just letting the story flow out onto the pages without monitoring, then seeing what emerges. When it has some shape to it, I let a couple of alpha readers take a look at it before going on to the re-write process. After a few re-writes, I send it to my Beta readers for more feedback and then I’m on to the final crafting. My first memoir took six weeks for the first draft, then almost two years of re-writes and crafting. However, before I self publish it, I’m going to do even more re-writing. It never really stops until you put the kibosh on it and just let it go.

This memoir is going much more slowly than the first. What's different is the increased amount of research I'm having to do. Besides trying to remember what happened over fifty years ago, to whom it happened and where, I'm having to research information on World War II, Cherokee Herb Doctors, moon-shining in North Carolina, and much more. Another issue that’s slowing me down is the time line. There were no documents, diaries or journals to refer to when I started this memoir, only vague memories. Family members were long gone, except for my sister, who doesn’t remember very much. So getting the time line straight is really difficult.


8.  What other books would you compare this story to within the genre?
The Glass Castle, by Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses by Jeanette Walls, and Tender At The Bone by Ruth Reichl.

9.  Who or what inspired you to write this book?
My grandparents and my family are my inspiration. I have two daughters and two grandchildren whom I’d like to share my early life with. I would also like to share, with my sister, a different perspective of our parents and grandparents than she had when we were growing up. Finally, I hope readers can either connect with my stories or marvel at the wonderful relationships I was afforded in my crazy family.

10.  What else about the book might pique the reader’s interest? I come from an extraordinary family of writers, artists, moonshiners, plumbers, carpenters, professional musicians, chefs and so on. I am in hopes the mixture of divergent personalities, talents, and interests will make for some pretty entertaining reading. My grandmother was extremely funny and at times had us rolling on the floor in laughter. Despite being crippled, my beautiful mother dated a gangster (a member of the Purple Gang in Detroit during the 20s) ‘til my grandmother found out and told him to get lost. My grandfather and his three brothers spent a lot of their early lives in North Carolina moon shining and outwitting the revenue officers. My father was a professional musician who met my mother in her beauty salon (after she broke up with the gangster) when he came in to get a manicure. There were so many real characters in my family, I don’t have to make anything up.

The following writers and authors will be discussing their latest projects on their blogs or websites. Visit their blogs and comment. Keep the circle moving.

Nov. 26: Julia Hanna http://mystories.sweetbeariesart.com/2012/11/26/my-next-big-thing-a-writing-blog-hop/ "I am working on a novel which I can best describe as contemporary fiction that re-envisions the traditional romance novel. It is about how a woman can be happy for the rest of her life even if she does not get married. Being an old maid is not some reprehensible thing."

Nov. 29: Thelma Zerkelbach http://www.widowsphere.blogspot.com/
Thelma will talk about her new memoir Stumbling Through The Dark, a story of an interfaith couple facing the greatest spiritual challenge and of a woman who lost her husband but eventually found herself

Nov 30:    Marcia Meier www.marciameier.com/
" I plan to talk about my completed memoir, Sweeping Down the Sky"

Dec. 3rd: Carol Clouse:  http://www.carolclouse.com/
"My project focuses on Native American philosophy in conjunction with sustainability in Architecture."

Dec. 4th: Susan Bearman:  http://2kop.blogspot.com/

"I wrote and self-published a picture book called the Animal Store Alphabet Book 
(http://alphabetanimal.com) based on my husband's pet shop. My illustrator and I 
launched a successful $10,000 Kickstarter campaign to fund the printing and 
distribution of the book and companion products (coloring book, poster, canvas 
prints and book bag)."

Dec. 5th: Valerie Neiman http://valerienieman.blogspot.com/
Valerie will talk about her  new book, Backwater, a taut crime novel and coming-of-age story, as a teenage girl struggles for her identity – and her life – against the backdrop of her cousin’s murder.

Dec. 7th:  June OHara www.juneohara.com
"I'm finishing up a humorous memoir about being a psychotherapist and having my own breakdowns, neuroses and humorous life circumstances."


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Emergent Memoir

Author's notes: This project is just getting underway. It may be too early to start posting excerpts as I haven't even finished the first draft. But I want to explore different approaches and test the content to see if a story about me and my grandparents might appeal to readers. Aside from ny children, no one in my family is still alive except my sister and she doesn't remember much. I've been able to unleash quite a few memories because I spent a lot of time with and was very close to them. But the memories are coming from all directions and I've found dealing with the time lines rather difficult. 

Also, there's a lot of research necessary to the various locations and events in the story, which is slowing down my flow (a major part of my process).  My voice as a young child seems to be coming through, which is good, but I sense there are a lot of emotional feelings that are trying to get out. It's a little scary, but I want to dig deeper and open myself up completely. 




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