Hackers and Proofing

We’ve always known that internet connect computers and other devices can be hacked. In fact, they almost seem custom made for that.

http://www.techtimes.com/articles/14800/20140903/cloud-hacking-isnt-hard-think.htm

I’ve recently learned that cars can be hacked. Well, why wouldn’t they be hackable? They contain computers that send and receive data, right?

http://www.wired.com/2014/08/car-hacking-chart/

And now—here’s a new opportunity for hackers! Houses. That’s right, you can make your house controllable, remote. How convenient! And how hackable.

We’ve worked long and hard to defend our home computers. We try our darndest not to get our portable devices hacked. Those are dangers we have to live with, if we use those things. But I’m scratching my head wondering why I should have to worry and my car and my house getting hacked! Well, I don’t really have to.

There are still a few cars around that don’t contain computers. That’s the kind I learned auto mechanics on. They’re mechanical and they make sense. And no one, absolutely no one can hack them. We might have to go to Cuba to get them, though.

I think the only way around the danger to my PC is to use one for writing that’s not on the internet. At least I can back up everything multiple places and hope they don’t all get hit at once. Or I could back to writing with pencil and paper and I could mail things to people. Perish the thought.

I hope and pray that I never fall for making my home hackable.

The Espresso Book Machine

I’m curious about this.

I’ve heard about these for a few years now. I’ve even seen video of them operating. I think they are quite noisy and they smell like…something. Maybe ink and paper?

http://www.ondemandbooks.com/ebm_locations.php

Here’s a video:

 https://mizzouebm.wordpress.com/2013/05/30/espresso-book-machine-process-video/

(I chose this one because it starts out playing EINE KLEINE NACHTMUSIK: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uH9idqTlbRE, and you can print my book EINE KLEINE MURDER on the machine! I don’t think it plays the music while it prints, though.)

Here are my two books that are available on them. (The only two I can find.)

http://bampublish.com/search.html#page=1&sorting=none&find=deathin the time of ice

http://bampublish.com/search.html#page=1&sorting=none&find=einekleine murder

 

But here’s my question. Has anyone ever used one? Has anyone ever seen one?

What’s your opinion, if so.

Learned Helplessness

Most of my inspiration for this post came from a video on this topic (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMPzDiraNnA&feature=em-subs_digest) that impressed me when I first saw it.

Here are the basics of what it’s about. The term “learned helplessness” was coined during (or after?) an experiment with dogs, a pretty cruel experiment. Two groups of dogs were given shocks. One group could not avoid them, the other group could jump over something and get away. After that session, both dogs were permitted to get away, but the first group did not do it! They had “learned” to be helpless. Only after lifting those dogs away at least twice, were they able to unlearn the behavior.

There’s much more to the video, but I’d like to use this part and relate it to two aspects of mystery writing.

First, our characters. We can use this knowledge to understand why abused women and children don’t escape their environment. They’ve been well taught that they can’t get away. If you ARE writing characters in similar situations, this gives you what you need to know to portray their plights realistically.

Second, we, the mystery writers. We’ve been given a certain amount of learned helplessness, too, Another part of the video deals with people and their roles as employees or managers. We tend to stick to our roles. The writers write. Only a few years ago we were completely dependent on agents and publishers. The employees, not the managers. And not in charge of our future. If we want to go that route, we still are.

However, many of us have learned to take advantage of opportunities that weren’t there those few years ago: small press publication and self-publication. None of us are dependent on agents or big publishers any more unless we wish to align with them. We have almost too many options! It’s hard to choose which route to follow. (I won’t go into it here, how I’ve followed all the routes at once. That makes me either ambitious or insane. Sometimes I don’t know which.)

We can not only choose how to get our work published, we can choose who to market it to and how to do that. We can hire a publicist or do it all ourselves. We can use Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram, Tumblr, giveaway contests, giveaway strategies, conferences, writing organizations, webpages, blogs, newsletters, and probably some other avenues I’ve left out.

Of course, no one human can do all that AND write more books. And stay sane.

But all we have to do as writers today is decide our path and follow it. We don’t have to wait for someone else to grant us permission.

The video ends with this quote, so I will, too.

Nelson Mandela: “It always seems impossible until it’s done.”

All pictures from morguefile.com

Conferences and Conventions

by Kaye George (who will also be Janet  Cantrell at the next convention)

Are these good for authors to attend? I had a publisher who insisted they are a waste of time and money. True, they do use up these things, but I could never call them a waste. I’ve gotten SO much out of them. After all, it’s due to Malice Domestic and Killer Nashville that I can call myself an award winning writer!

Besides the opportunity to win awards and put cool things on your book covers and in your bio, the psychological benefits are enormous.

I’ll never forget the time I arrived at Malice late Thursday night and, after chucking my things in my room, headed down to the bar for a drink. Vicki Delaney came up to me while I was ordering and said, “Hey sailor, can I show you a good time?” Vicki is a stitch! I joined her and a small group of writers at a table. We were the only ones in the bar. A rousing discussion of ellipses and em-dashes ensued. You can’t find fun like that if you’re not with a bunch of writers!

Then there was the time I lunched with Annamaria Alfieri in Nashville. She had attended a session that I hadn’t been able to, so she filled me in. We were talking about human trafficking, to use the polite term, which had been the topic I’d missed, but we were also talking about plot possibilities. When mystery writers get together, serious discussions of murder methods, plot devices, and the dark side of the human psyche flow. I would feel awkward speaking about those things in public if I weren’t with other writers. I wonder what the waiters at those conferences think.

When I first started attending conferences, I gained a huge amount of knowledge from listening to panel members talk about details of writing, also about publishing, submitting, and just plain keeping on in the face of the incredible amount of rejection we all experience.

As I’ve gotten published and am now speaking on panels, I find that I don’t need to attend the sessions about nuts and bolts writing so much, but still find it great fun to see the people I know behind the panel tables.

Which brings up another benefit, getting to meet people face to face that I’ve known online—sometimes for years. Sometimes I’m surprised at how short or tall people are, and by what their voices sound like, especially accents. After I’ve met someone, I can hear their voice as I read email exchanges and blog posts, and can picture them much better than I can from a tiny headshot.

Also, of course, there’s always the hope that attending mystery readers and fans will discover and like your books!

By the way, I’ll be at Malice Domestic in May and if you’re free at 3 on Saturday, my panel will be called “The Paws That Refresh”—a panel by writers who use pets in their novels. I think you’ll have time to get down to the bar to see the Kentucky Derby at 4. If you leave early for that, I’ll forgive you.

Have I missed any of the benefits of conferences?

Does Anyone Know How to Market?

by Kaye George (also w.a. Janet Cantrell)

I was asked for tips today from a writer who is newly published. I gave her what I could think of at the moment: Goodreads giveaway, read Jeffrey Marks’ INTENT TO SELL, watch what Rebecca Dalhke does.

But, really, besides those, how does one market a new mystery? How do YOU market your mysteries?

Here are some things I do (never knowing what works and what doesn’t).

I guest blog when a new book or short story anthology comes out, wherever I can. I’ve accumulated a list of places where I seem welcome and am always looking for new ones, usually mentioned on one of the writers’ lists I belong to.

I put the news in my newsletter. I put it on my blogs. I cross-reference these as best I can for increased visibility.

If I’m in an area with cool bookstores, I get signings. I now have a signing lined up here in Knoxville at Books A Million for my second Fat Cat book.

I try to appear on panels at conferences, also to increase visibility.

For every brand new story and book, I post the releases on the discussion lists and Facebook groups I belong to.

I try to build up hype before publication with the above-mentioned Goodreads giveaways, plus giveaways on guest blogs and my own blogs. I give away ARCs as well as actual books.

When a conference accepts auction baskets for charity, I put one together with some themed items for the new release. I already have a few cute cat things for Malice in May to promote my Fat Cat series.

I had mugs made for DEATH IN THE TIME OF ICE and for EINE KLEINE MURDER and have done giveaways of them.

When a conference lets me take bids on a name in one of my upcoming novels, I do that. It’s amazing how much attention those get! Some day I hope to be coordinated enough to offer a pet name in an upcoming book.

If a book takes place in a real town, I contact someone official there to let them know.

I have no idea if any of this does any good. But I do know that if I don’t do anything, I won’t sell much.

Any great ideas?

Some Quotes on Writing

by Kaye George

I love to collect inspirational quotes, that is, quotes that inspire my writing. I’d love to hear your favorites. Here are some of mine. Several of these have been posted here before, but it doesn’t hurt to repeat the best ones.

“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.” -Orson Welles

“The way to make a film is to begin with an earthquake and work up to a climax.” -Cecil B. DeMille

“I'm thinking literary focuses on the moment when the character changes, and the genre focuses on what the character does with that change.” -Stephen D. Rogers

“No matter how many mistakes you make or how slow you progress, you’re still way ahead of everyone who isn’t trying.” -Unknown

“Writing is a lot like prostitution. First you do it for love. Then you do it for money. Then you recruit others. “ -Moliere

 "Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working." - Pablo Picasso

“Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising which tempt you to believe that your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires courage.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Every time you sit down to write, you should be afraid of losing the reader at any moment of any page." - Playwright William Gibson

“That was the moment I changed from an amateur to a professional.  I assumed the burden of the professional which is to write even when you don’t want to, don’t much like what you are writing and aren’t writing particularly well.”-Agatha Christie

"It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop." – Confucius

The Party’s Over

Over the holidays, I did something I haven’t done since I started my latest series. I took five days off in a row from writing. That is, I didn’t sit at the computer and put words into the file for Fat Cat #3 (which doesn’t have a title yet). However, it wasn’t completely gone from my mind, except for short stretches of fun with the family.

Things kept popping up in my head and I noted them down. As soon as I could, I would perch on the edge of my office chair and type them into my notes. If that wasn’t possible, I’d stick the paper I had scribbled upon on the stack to the left of my keyboard. That’s my stack for whatever I’m currently working on, for the most part.

I dreaded getting back into the story, but, you know what? It wasn’t that bad. I’m so glad I did take the trouble to jot those ideas down because I used every single one, or will within a day or two.

Friday I did some gift returns, but did manage to get 880 words written. I’ll wait until Monday to do the rest of the gift stuff, I think. Saturday will be a zoo! Besides, I need a whole day to luxuriate in the freedom to write without thinking about the one gift left, the cards to mail, the peanut brittle (which I never did make), and the meal planning.

I love Christmas and love kids and grandkids being here. I also love the relaxation when everything’s over!

Have any of you taken a chunk of time off from writing during the winter holidays? Do you have any tricks for getting back into it?

Animals Rights Day

by Kaye George

A lot of writers include animals in many of our our stories. A book without animals is kind of like a house without a pet—feels empty.

International Animal Rights Day was the 10th of this month, did you know that? There are many horrific stories I could tell, of course, to convince you that more work needs to be done for the poor creatures who have no words to express themselves, let along cell phones and access to social media. However, I don’t want to bring you a downer in this holiday season, so save those thoughts for January.

This is the season of Good Will to All. I’m sure Santa treats his reindeer well. How could they make it around the world like that if they weren’t in tip-top condition?

You can track the path of Santa and his deer here if you’d like to.

http://www.noradsanta.org/

When I was little, I worried that our dog, Skipper, who died while still a puppy, wouldn’t get to heaven. I also wanted there to be horses there, since my parents weren’t going to get me one while I was on earth, evidently. (Sure enough, they never did. It was plain that our back yard was plenty big enough for one little horse, but they couldn’t see that.)

Tommy, who lived across the alley and was Catholic (I was Methodist—still am), assured me that dogs and cats and horses would never be in Heaven. They would go, he said, to Limbo. I would also go there since I wasn’t Catholic. I made up my mind right then that I much rather be going to Limbo, not Heaven. It would be full of superior-sounding boys like Tommy.

I wonder if it’s a coincidence that Pope Francis chose this time to tell the little boy, “Paradise is open to all of God’s creatures.” It’s almost enough to make me want to go to Heaven, after all.

All animal photos from morguefiles

Photo of Pope Francis from Wikipedia

What about the Paleo Diet?

by Kaye George

Do you suppose that’s what Neanderthals ate? The Paleo diet does contain lots of protein, but it also includes fresh fruits and vegetables. Neanderthals lived through some extreme cold times and wouldn’t have had ready access to fresh plants year round. The Paleo diet, though, is supposed to be what early Homo sapiens, the hunter gatherers ate. Neanderthals weren’t hunter gatherers! Here’s what I found out when I wrote DEATH IN THE TIME OF ICE.

(This article uses the alternate spelling of Neandertal—not a typo.)

Chapter 17

Question: How do we know what the Neanderthals ate?

Answer: An analysis of the chemicals laid down in Neanderthals' teeth indicates that they ate lots of meat. In fact they were more carnivorous than wolves!

http://www.abc.net.au/beasts/evidence/prog6/page5_2.htm

Michael Richards, now at the University of Bradford in England, and his colleagues

recently examined isotopes of carbon (13C) and nitrogen (15N) in 29,000-year-old

Neandertal bones from Vindija cave in Croatia. The relative proportions of these

isotopes in the protein part of human bone, known as collagen, directly reflect their

proportions in the protein of the individual’s diet. Thus, by comparing the isotopic

“signatures” of the Neandertal bones to those of other animals living in the same

environments, the authors were able to determine whether the Neandertals were

deriving the bulk of their protein from plants or from animals.

The analyses show that the Vindija Neandertals had 15N levels comparable to

those seen in northern carnivores such as foxes and wolves, indicating that they

obtained almost all their dietary protein from animal foods. Earlier work hinted that

inefficient foraging might have been a factor in the subsequent demise of the

Neandertals. But Richards and his collaborators argue that in order to consume as

much animal food as they apparently did, the Neandertals had to have been skilled

hunters.

Scientific American, Special Edition: New Look at Human Evolution, August, 2003, p. 69

Some more Neanderthal research

Buy at Untreed Reads

It’s been awhile since I posted the research behind DEATH IN THE TIME OF ICE.

One thing I gave my Neanderthals was speech. It’s debated whether or not they could speak, so I went back and forth, but finally decided to take a middle ground. I gave them rudimentary speech. In my fiction, they (usually the leader) use speech only for important ceremonial or decisive announcements. I did a lot of research for this, but, since I once wanted to be a linguist, it was tons of fun. I studied how babies learn to talk and the first sounds they make in different cultures, how people with speech problems are treated with therapy, and the roots of the earliest languages as far as anyone knows them. Here’s the quote I used for Chapter 15:

//

Chapter 15 – speech

Neanderthals, an archaic human species that dominated Europe until the arrival of modern humans some 45,000 years ago, possessed a critical gene known to underlie speech, according to DNA evidence retrieved from two individuals excavated from El Sidron, a cave in northern Spain.

The new evidence stems from analysis of a gene called TOXP2 which is associated with language.

The New York Times, Neanderthals Had Important Speech Gene, DNA Evidence Shows, by Nicholas Wade, October 19, 2007

//

Since they had the gene, I have to assume they had the physical equipment, even though it may have been a little different from ours.

For Chapter 16, I chose to explain how I had these Neanderthals get to North America. You know, the further and further east they find remains in Asia, the more I think it could have happened!

//

Chapter 16 – crossing and the north star

The author: It is believed that prehistoric people reached the American continents via Beringia.

Bering Strait: Strait connecting Arctic Ocean and Bering Sea (q.v.), and separating Asia (Russia) from North America (Alaska); at narrowest point 53 mi. (83 km.) wide…A drop in sea level during the Ice Age is believed to have exposed a land bridge (Beringia) connecting Asia and North America. Strait traversed by Danish navigator Vitus Bering 1728.

Merriam-Webster’s geographical dictionary

The author: The Big Dipper has been known as a guiding bear for a very long time.

The Iroquois Native Americans interpreted Alioth, Mizar, and Alkaid as three hunters pursuing the Great Bear. According to one version of their myth, the first hunter (Alioth) is carrying a bow and arrow to strike down the bear. The second hunter (Mizar) carries a large pot — the star Alcor — on his shoulder in which to cook the bear while the third hunter (Alkaid) hauls a pile of firewood to light a fire beneath the pot.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ursa_Major#History

In ancient Sanskrit and all modern Sanskirt-based languages, the noun tara means star. One of Tara's ancient names was Dhruva, also the name of Polaris, the Pole, or North, Star. In the 108 Names of the Holy Tara, She was the "Leader of the caravans...who showeth the way to those who have lost it." (Purna)

Today, it is difficult to understand the extent to which our ancestors traveled and relied on the stars to guide them. Sophisticated astronomical systems of the early historic period, the worldwide Neolithic standing stone observatories, and the lunar calendars on stone and bone, dating to the Paleolithic and possibly earlier (from 30,000 years ago to 300,000 years ago), indicate that our foremothers mapped the heavens. Clearly, they relied on their knowledge of the stars, moon and sun for safe passage. For the native peoples of the Indian subcontinent, bordered by two oceans and the daunting Himalayan mountain ranges, and covered with dense wilderness areas, the Pole Star was a constant indicator of true north, and the heavenly bodies in relationship to it, a celestial map. Tara, star and goddess, was the matron deity of travelers.

http://www.goddessmystic.com/CoreCurriculum/Goddesses/Tara/TaraAttributesStar.shtml

Owen Gingerich, in his article "The origin of the zodiac." (Sky and Telescope, Volume 67, 1984, Pages 218-220) proposed that a bear constellation crossed the Bering Straits with ancient migrants.

//

Hoped you’ve enjoyed this peek into my thrilling prehistory research!

Some more research into the last Ice Age

These were two of the favorite topics I researched, telepathy (after I decided to make my Neanderthals telepathic) and giant beavers!

I simply loved researching for DEATH IN THE TIME OF ICE. The book is available as an e-book or paperback at Untreed Reads.

Chapter 11 – aborigine telepathy

There is little documented evidence of the ability of the Australian aborigines to convey messages telepathically, but much anecdotal evidence. The method of communication is sometimes called ‘bush telegraph’ or ‘mulga wire’. This passage is taken from

The Bone is Pointed: An Inspector Napolean Bonaparte Mystery by Arthur W. Upfield

p. 46

"I saw him at ten o'clock on the evening of the eighteenth, the day Anderson rode Green Swamp. I went as usual to the stable to see that the horse kept there for duty had been properly fed and bedded. Abie--that was his name--was then asleep on his stretcher in the adjoining stall."

"How did he receive word about the sick lubra?"

"I don't know. Mulga wire, I suppose."

Chapter 12 – giant beavers

Beavers

Family Castoridae

The biggest of all rodents during Pleistocene time—or any time, for that matter—were beavers of the family Castoridae. These semi-aquatic rodents of the Northern Hemisphere existed in North America as long ago as early Oligocene time, 35 million to 30 million years ago…

Giant Beaver (Castoroides ohioensis)

The giant beaver was the size of a large black bear and weighed 330 to 440 pounds (150 to 200 kilograms). It measured t least 9 feet (3 meters) long and stood about 3 feet (1 meter) tall at the shoulder. In comparison, the modern beaver measures up to 3.5 feet (more than 1 meter) long and weighs from 20 to 86 pounds (9 to 39 kilograms). While resembling a modern beaver, the giant beaver had a longer and narrower tail. The giant beaver had huge incisors up to 6 inches (15 centimeters) long. Researchers have found no evidence to tell us whether this heavyweight built dams or felled trees, but base on the giant beaver’s build, paleontologists believe it behaved much as living beavers do…

The abundance of fossils suggests the giant beaver’s favorite locales were ponds, lakes, and swamps south of the Great Lakes, where it ate coarse swamp vegetation.

Ice Age Mammals of North America: A Guide to the Big, the Hairy, and the Bizarre Ian M. Lange, p. 120

Two American Indian beaver legends found at http://www.bio.umass.edu/biology/conn.river/nalegend.html:

The Great Beaver, whose pond flowed over the whole basin of Mt. Tom, made havoc among the fish and when these failed he would come ashore and devour Indians. A pow-wow was held and Hobomock raised, who came to their relief. With a great stake in hand, he waded the river until he found the beaver, and so hotly chased him that he sought to escape by digging into the ground. Hobomock saw his plan and his whereabouts, and with his great stake jammed the beaver's head off. The earth over the beaver's head we call Sugarloaf, his body lies just to the north of it.

Field, P., 1870-79, Stories, anecdotes, and legends, collected and written down by Deacon Phinehas Field:

In History and Proceedings of the Pocumtuck Valley Memorial Association, Deerfield MA, v. 1, p. 59.

The great beaver preyed upon the fish of the Long River. And when other food became scarce, he took to eating men out of the river villages. Hobomuck, a benevolent spirit giant, at last was invoked to relieve the distressed people. Hobomock came and chased the great beaver far into the immense lake that then covered the meadows, flinging as ran great handfuls of dirt and rock at the beaver. Finally he threw a bunch of dirt so great upon the beaver's head that it sank him in the middle of the lake. Hobomock, arriving a few minutes later, dispatched the monster by a blow with his club on the back of the beaver's neck. And there he lies to this day. The upturned head covered with dirt is the sandstone cliff of Wequamps (Mt. Sugar Loaf), and the body is the northward range. The hollow between is where Hobomock's cudgel smote down his neck.

Pressey, E.P., 1910, History of Montague: Montague, MA, p. 64.

Some more facts about Neanderthals

I posted some of the results of research that I did while writing DEATH IN THE TIME OF ICE (published by Untreed Reads) a couple of weeks ago. Some of it is used in the book, but not in this form. I’d like to post some more this week, just in case anyone is as fascinated with prehistory and Neanderthals as I am.

Here are some notes for chapters 6-8, with source references:

Chapter 6

La Ferrassie…Placed in the graves with the man and several of the children were flint tools…. Yet somehow little attention had bee paid to the broader implications of burials for Neandertals’ beliefs and behaviors.

--The Neandertals Erik Trinkaus and Pat Shipman, p. 255

It is an Iraqi cave, Shanidar, that has produced the largest sample of Neanderthals from the Middle East…. Some of these Neanderthals, at least, seem to have been deliberately buried, and it has even been suggested that the Shanidar 4 man was buried with flowers, although this has recently been seriously questions.

--In Search of the Neanderthals Christopher Stringer and Clive Gamble, p. 98

Excavations reveal Regourdou as one sacred site where Neanderthals returned repeatedly to bury brown bear remains, whose bones show marks from stone tools. Yet only a single human [young man] has thus far been unearthed. His people put him on a brown bear skin in a stone-lined pit. They placed ritual offerings of bear meat and stone tools on a slab above his body, and these in turn were covered by many smaller rocks and a deer antler. Finally they set wood on top and lit a funeral fire…. The figures in this scene are based on careful study of many skeletons.

--Sign accompanying a re-creation of this burial in the Smithsonian Natural History Museum depicting the young man with his limbs folded and tied.

Chapter 7

The teeth and jaws of the Cro-Magnons are larger than in modern Europens, as was average stature and (probably) lean body weight. Estimates put early Cro-Magnon height at about 1.84 m (6 ft 1 in) in males and 1.67 m (5 ft 6 in) in females, with lean body weight at perhaps 70 and 55 kg (154 and 121 lb) respectively. So while body weight was comparable with that of Neanderthals, the weight was distributed differently, and the body proportions certainly contrasted strongly…

--In Search of the Neanderthals Christopher Stringer and Clive Gamble, p. 183

Chapter 8

On the remote island of Flores, in what is now Indonesia, scientists in 2003 made a remarkable discovery -- the remains of a pre-human being, only about three feet tall, who lived and thrived there until about 12,000 years ago.

The skeleton was different enough from other fossils that scientists said it was a previously undiscovered species, separate from those that led to modern human beings. They called it Homo floresiensis, though everyone quickly nicknamed it the "hobbit."

And that would have been that, if not for other scientists who weighed in. They said the newly found "hobbit" wasn't a new species at all, just a stunted version of other prehistoric humans.

But now the original team has backed up its original argument. They took the hobbit's skull, along with 10 others from beings known to have had "microcephaly" -- a long word for abnormally small brains.

They did CT scans of the skulls, then used them to make computer-generated renditions of the brains that would have been inside.

"It's not showing the shape of microcephaly," says Dean Falk, an anthropologist at Florida State University who led the research. "So we nailed that, we think.

"In addition," she says, "we can say that there are other special features which are unique and set it apart from anyone else."

In other words, the "hobbit" of Flores island was not one of us -- not an early Homo sapiens who simply suffered from stunted growth.

--From abcNEWS article, “Prehistoric ‘Hobbit’ Was Definitely New Species” by Ned Potter, Jan. 29, 2007

Some Facts about Neanderthals

I did tons of research for writing DEATH IN THE TIME OF ICE. I used it in the book, of course, but I’d like to share some of it with you. Everyone is interested in Neanderthals, right?

Here are some notes for the first five chapters with source references:

Chapter 1

On current evidence, the Neanderthals lived between about 230,000 and 30,000 years ago--a huge span of time by any reckoning.

In Search of the Neanderthals Christopher Stringer and Clive Gamble, p. 7

In ancient times women ruled, because they had the magic masks, or the magic flutes, but men spied on them and stole their magic away.

Indians William Brandon, p. 20

Chapter 2

The high incidence of degenerative joint disease in Neanderthals is perhaps not surprising given what we know of the hard lives they led and the wear and tear this would have produced on their bodies. But the prevalence of serious injuries is more surprising, and indicates just how dangerous life was, even for those who did manage to reach ‘old age’ in Neanderthal societies.

In Search of the Neanderthals Christopher Stringer and Clive p. 95

Chapter 3

A remarkable feature that occurred in the older part of the shelter¹ fill was a man-made rock pavement that rested on the surface of Zone 3² clay and was overlain by travertine, clay, and limestone grit (Zone 4). … Several small patches of cobblestone pavement apparently were found at a level below the main rock floor pavement, and [Glen] Evans thought these might be evidence of human activity in Zone 3.

Taken from http://www.texasbeyondhistory.net/index.html, a site of the University of Texas at Austin

¹Kincaid shelter in Texas Hill country

²Late Pleistocence, 126,000 to 11,500 years ago

Chapter 4

New evidence has emerged that Neanderthals co-existed with anatomically modern humans for at least 1,000 years in central France. …Neanderthals lived in the cave between roughly 40,000 and 38,000 years ago…. Homo sapiens …inhabited caves for about 1,000 to 1,500 years…. At that point, Homo sapiens moved out and the Neanderthals returned, staying for a period that went from about 36,5000 years ago to 35,000 years ago.

From http://www.abc.net.au/news/newsitems/200509/s1450949.htm, ABC news article September 1, 2005

Chapter 5

Neanderthals seemed to suffer a high frequency of fractures…. These fractures are often healed and show little or no sign of infection, suggesting that injured individuals were cared for during times of incapacitation.

T.D. Berger and E. Trinkaus (1995). "Patterns of trauma among Neadertals". Journal of Archaeological Science 22: 841 - 852. Retrieved on 2007-06-28.

Found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homo_neanderthalensis#_note-26

illustration from http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-19960748

Facts about Wymee Falls and Wichita Falls

The action in my Imogene Duckworthy novels take place in and around Wymee Falls. The town of Wymee Falls is fictional, but it’s based on the real Texas town of Wichita Falls. I lived in that part of the world for a few years. If you’ve read one or all of the three books so far, you may have come into contact with some of the below. I’d like to elaborate, though, on just what the town is about. Personally, the waterfall, below, is hilarious. It’s why I decided to base the series there. I haven’t worked the World’s Smallest Skyscraper, another very funny thing,  into a plot yet, but there’s plenty of time for that in later books.

Some interesting facts about Wichita Falls, Texas.

The town of Wichita Falls, called Wymee Falls in my Imogene Duckworthy mysteries, has a colorful history.

Some early history & the story of the waterfall

The Choctaw Indians were there since the early 1700s. White settlers showed up in the 1860s and ranched cattle. The town was named after a small waterfall on the Wichita River, really more of a rapids. A flood in1886 destroyed the fragile water works. After visitors asked to see the waterfall, fruitlessly, for about a hundred years, the town elders decided to build one. Just off I44, in Lucy Park, the nice-looking, medium-sized waterfall (54 feet high) runs on a pump, except when the water level gets low and the water gets too silty. Gotta be careful not to damage the pump.

The World's Smallest Skyscraper

The city also houses the World's Smallest Skyscraper. A swindler collected funds to build an actual skyscraper, then constructed a four-story building with one room 9x12 on each floor. A fourth of that space is taken up by staircases between the floors. This was during the boom after the discovery of oil nearby. I suppose it was logical that the city could use more office space. The con man, J.D. McMahon, drew up blueprints for a building 480" tall. He didn't point out that his scale used inches, not feet. After construction got started, his investors suspected something. They tried to sue, but lost. They had signed off on the blueprints, clearly drawn in inches. When the "skyscraper" was finished, McMahon left town with most of the money. This was an embarrassment to the town until it was featured in Ripley's Believe It Or Not and got its billing as World's Smallest Skyscraper. Now it's a tourist attraction--along with the fake waterfall.

Tornados

The town is in a major tornado path. We spent a good deal of time cowering in the bath tub, listening to the sirens, when we lived there. It's been hit by two major tornados, in 1964 and 1979. Seven people died in the first one, but 42 perished in the later storm. Twenty-five of those were in vehicles, since it hit during afternoon rush hour.

Weather

Temperature records range from a high of 117 in June of 1947 to -12 in January of 1924, from the records I found, but those don't include last year. In 2011, July was an average 92.9 degrees, with 52 straight days over 100 from late June to early August. I call this area a place of harsh climate with warm-hearted people. None of them resemble the characters in the Imogene Duckworthy books!

Most of the above is from wikipedia.

COLD!

by Kaye George

Whether you believe in the science of climate change or not, you’ve gotta admit, it’s cold! Just how cold is it? OK, you can finish that one.

Here are some records, to make you feel warmer--maybe.

In connection with the people marooned at the bottom of the earth recently, you probably read that the coldest temperatures on the planet have been recorded in Antarctica. No surprise there! The official coldest one is -128.6 F in 1983. However, a satellite got a reading of -135.8 F in 2010.

In the range of what is humanly imaginable, there’s the -80 in Prospect Creek, Alaska, in 1971. Maybe you can’t imagine this, but I can, having lived in Montana. Granted, I have only experienced -80 as the temperature WITH wind chill. But without, it was -40. Brrrr.

Here are some wimpy record lows. 46 (that’s +46) in Cameron Highlands, Malaysia. Then there’s 40 in three different spots in Puerto Rico. Those are looking good right about now.

Wanna go for highs? Maybe that would help? Our country holds the world record. I didn’t know that! It’s 134 in Death Valley, California, in 1913. The record high at the South Pole, by the way, is 9.9. Another reason to stay away from that place.

Jeopardy! is offering a chance to win free National Geographic trips to exotic places. One of them was to Antarctica. I wonder how many people logged in to compete that day. One? Two?

How does any of this relate to writing or reading mysteries? This is GREAT weather to do both, provided you don’t have to go to the library, book store, or office supply shop to get material.

Info from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_weather_records

Photo from my back yard

My New Year

by Kaye George

My fellow bloggers here at Make Mine Mystery have been putting down wrap ups of 2013, predictions for 2014, and resolutions. My turn to blog falls 1/3 into the month, so it’s a little late, but allow me to wind back to the first and do a New Year’s post here.

Looking back on my 2013, I’ll note that 13 has always been my lucky number and it didn’t fail me. Hubby and I were engaged, then married on the 13th, so I’ll always have a fond spot for that number. (However, it hasn’t helped when I use it on Lotto tickets. Yet.)

I don’t think I’ll ever have another year like 2013. Two different publishers (Barking Rain Press and Untreed Reads) birthed two new series for me! They were released in April and June, two months apart. I’ve been scrambling ever since to get the word out on both of them at once.

Then I signed a contract with a third publisher. This one is the Penguin imprint, Berkley Prime Crime. I should say Penguin-Random (but I prefer Random-Penguin). Closer to the end of the year, I turned in the manuscript for that new series, which will debut in September of 2014.

In the middle of all the writing I’ve been doing, we moved from the Waco area of Texas to Knoxville Tennessee. Compounding the difficulty of that was the fact that we had just moved, seven months before that, from Taylor TX where we had spent 7 years. That’s a long time for us, nomads that we are. This one is different, though. This is where we intend to stay put. Hubby retired and we have kids and grands in the area. We did in Texas, too, and hate to leave them behind. We miss them, but I’m not missing the heat and the drought. We’re also closer to the third set of kids on the East Coast.

In the middle of moving, a grandson was born under difficult circumstances. He’s fine now--in fact, I’ve never seen such a happy, smiling boy, but he stayed in the hospital for a few weeks, so I went to the DC area to help out with the two year old.

A very confusing, rushed year! But good times, in the end.

What about 2014? More writing, more publishing, is what I hope for. My lucky number can go ahead now and do the trick with Lotto so I can hire a secretary, maid, and personal full-time masseuse.

I’m hoping for a good year for all of our blog readers, and for my fellow bloggers!

Halloween Story For You

I'd like to give you a story as a Halloween present today. This was first published in BJ Bourg's greatly missed magazine, Mouth Full of Bullets, in December of 2007. It's taken from the time we lived in the Detroit area and based on a very real, if tragic, tradition. I'm told this no longer happens, but it was horrible while it did. (If you'd like a much funnier ghost story, try my third Imogene Duckworthy book, BROKE.) Without further ado,

DEVIL’S NIGHT

By Kaye George

“Evie, help me. I think... I don’t...” I struggled to understand Nora’s words through the poor phone connection and her hysterical sobs. "I'm afraid he's…" Why was she calling me?

“Nora. Stop. Just tell me where you are.” She gulped twice, great, noisy breaths, then managed to give me directions to where she was experiencing her latest crisis.

Crisis-prone Nora often needed rescuing from one of her magnified molehills. But this time was different. My gut twisted in the wake of her call.

I revved up my Mustang and headed out toward 12 Mile Road. She had said to turn off Interstate 75 and make a couple more turns to end up on an obscure lane. It wasn’t too cold yet, considering it was late October, so I had the top down.

In spite of the warmth, the night was wild. Bare, waving branches clutched at the scudding clouds that played peek-a-boo with the cold moon.

I heard, in the distance, flailing sirens, rushing to quench the countless fires set by troubled Detroit youth. I always assumed they set them out of their inner city frustration. But there was also a tradition to uphold. The hellish tradition of Devil’s Night, Halloween Eve. Detroit was famous for it. Every year firefighters were called in from surrounding states to help keep Detroit from burning to the ground. This was considered a good training ground for new firefighters. But so much damage was done every year to the property of innocent people.

The sirens echoed the turmoil of my racing heart. And I drove through chiaroscuro strips laid by the moon, wondering why Nora was still alive.

We had met an hour ago, as usual, at shift change meeting at the nursing home where Nora and I both worked as nurses. I had managed to put enough barbiturates into her coffee, I thought, and succeeded in doing it undetected. And she had drunk the whole cup.

After the meeting I had walked her out to her car, thinking she might need help. Sure enough, the drugs started to take effect and she leaned against me for the last ten feet. I managed to help her slump into the driver’s seat, then I slammed the door, stepped back and watched her stab her key at the starter a couple of times, turn it, and drive off.

I wasn’t able to suppress a grin. I did so look forward to seeing her dead, that bitch who was screwing my husband, Todd. They thought I didn't know. Ha!

Now I sped to see what had happened, puzzled. Wasn't her car wrecked? Why was she still alive? And why was she phoning me--me, of all people, to come rescue her?

It should be coming up soon, I thought. Then I skidded to a stop just beyond where she stood, so close to the road I could easily have hit her. And I thought about it, but that would have left evidence on my car. I wasn’t interested in going to prison.

Nora sank to her knees when I ran up, her shoulders quaking with her unceasing sobs.

"Evie, I'm so, so sorry."

I grabbed a shoulder and shook her.

“Nora! Stop it. What’s going on?”

She pointed to her car. It had slued off the road – the passenger side was wrapped around an ancient corkscrew willow tree. So she had in fact had an accident, but had lived through it. Damn! What a waste of barbiturates. Now I'd have to think of another way to get rid of her.

“Okay, you wrecked your car. That’s not the end of the world.” I wished I had some cold water to splash onto her face. Besides snapping her out of it, I would enjoy it.

“Just look, just look,” she repeated over and over, clawing at the dry leaves the wind whipped up around her with one hand and continuing to point at the car with the other. Her outstretched arm quivered and her pointing finger traced little circles in the night air.

"Yes, I see, Nora." I smacked her arm down. The undamaged driver’s door stood open. I walked over to it. The bad feeling in my stomach was intensifying. I grabbed the frame above the door to steady myself--my knees giving way--then ducked down, and peered in.

A lifeless form, a bloody mess, was crushed between the dash and the crumpled door. The sickness in my stomach rose to my throat. I squinted to make out the features of the battered face. It was too dark.

Then a fire truck rumbled by and threw a wash of garish red light onto him.

I finally understood. Nora wasn’t dead; my husband Todd was, staring past me into eternity. I hoped he was seeing Hell.

THE END

Shoplifting and Mystery Writers and Readers

by Kaye George

I’m deep in the throes of a first draft right now. Well, maybe not deep, not as far into the project as I will be later. I’m beginning a new book, which is intense. I’m thinking up a new crime, a new weapon, new victim, new killer, new suspects, and I think there isn’t any room left in my brain for anything else.

Here’s what happened the other day. I went to the drug store to pick up a prescription. On the way to the back of the store and the pharmacy counter, I grabbed a bag of Lindt dark truffles because, well, I like them…and I wanted to reward myself for what I’ve done so far with the project.

Our new insurance is so good that there was no charge. Yay! So I picked up the little white bag of drugs with the paper stapled to it and left the store. With the chocolates. Without paying. I shoplifted, although inadvertently.

As I drove away, after throwing my stuff onto the passenger seat, I wondered why I didn’t have a drug store bag for the chocolates. That caused a curse word. I turned around and took the candy back to the front counter where I told the clerk I had walked out without paying, by mistake.

He seemed shocked. In fact, he told me I was to be commended because most people wouldn’t do that. I admit that I was shocked he said that. Surely, I thought, that’s not true.

When I got home, I posted the experience on Facebook and got a variety of comments. Many of them, from mystery writers and readers, noted that they’d done the same thing--left without paying, then returned to make it right.

That got me wondering. Are mystery fans more moral than the general population? Do we want justice in our own lives because our chosen genre deals with bad actors getting caught and paying for their sins? We deal with wrongs being righted, but only through the extreme efforts and travail of our heroic (or not) characters. In most mystery sub-genres, the bad guys get caught and justice prevails. Is that why mystery writers are honest and upstanding?

I think that most people would go back and pay. Maybe I’m wrong, but, if so, I’m going to persist in my delusion.

Balance

by Kaye George

I had an attack of vertigo last week. These aren’t rare, for me, but it had been a few months since I’d had one and it took me by surprise.

It gave rise to some musings on balance. I do lose balance in other ways, too.

Sometimes I allow my computer time to take over my whole day. Notice, I didn’t say my writing. I can’t really write for a whole day, but I CAN spend all my waking hours on the dang ‘puter. Most of it is wasting time. Let’s not talk about my Solitaire addiction. Leaving that aside, there’s Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, news posts, links to interesting articles, blogs--wish I read more of those--I’m sure I miss some good ones.

I have a solution, but don’t always use it. My solution is to set my timer to 50 minutes. I have a clever one that remembers what setting I used last time. The 10 minutes is for my hourly break, but I’m flexible on that. The important thing is not to sit for 2 or 3 hours at a time, like I did yesterday.

Different Strokes for Different Folks, But Different Names?

Let’s start with genres. Some writers are able to conquer more than one, most of them closely related. Like mystery and romantic suspense. Even romance and mystery are related and many do both of these. This brings us to the topic I want to discuss: names.

I know several authors who use more than one name for publication. Okay, I AM one. So far I’ve used two, but in 2014 will have a book out with a third name. What are the reasons for using different names and are those reasons valid?

**Here’s what I’ve come up with on using multiple names.

PRO: Using one name per genre is less confusing to readers.

CON: If a reader likes your writing in one genre, the reader might like it in another and you’d be easier to find with only one name.

**On using a pen name.

PRO: Your real name is hard to remember/pronounce/spell.

CON: Look at Janet Evanovich. Had anyone heard of that name before she made it big? An unusual name is more memorable.

PRO: You want to protect your job/spouse/family by using a pen name.

CON: Nothing occurs to me for this.

Personally, I’m participating in a couple of the above. My real name is hard to remember and spell, so I came up with Kaye George as a pen name. However, when I wrote a book solely for my grandkids I used my real name, Judy Egner, so that would be less confusing for them. Another book for another grandkid is in the works if I ever put aside the time to finish it. My third name, Janet  Cantrell, is being used for a hired work, so that was necessary and not a choice for me (although I did choose the name).

However, when my Neanderthal mystery is published, I’ll use the same pen name I’ve used for most of my work, Kaye George. It IS a mystery, but it’s very different from my other mysteries. I’ve written the gamut under this name from cozy and light and fluffy, to medium and traditional, to tough and hard-boiled to horror. One of my cousins read one of my horror tales (“The Bathroom”) and said she was afraid to read anything else by me. Exactly the reaction I want! Except that I want people to read my horror who are looking for horror! That cousin prefers cozies. I did steer her away from the rest of my horror stories. I hope she read something else eventually.

Maybe it’s a mistake not to differentiate my work with different names. Maybe not. It’s a little late to change that now, though!