Showing posts with label Texas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Texas. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Oh, Those Pesky Ideas!


by Janis Patterson

I am a pretty organized kind of person – where work is concerned, that is. We won’t talk about my housekeeping. With my books, however, I am very orderly. I try to write a fair number of words every day – though I don’t always make it every single day. (Life just gets in the way sometimes!) I keep to a schedule and respect deadlines. I have my books blocked out for the next eighteen months – a gothic romance, the first book of my new Rachel Petrie archaeological mysteries, a sweet older-heroine romance… It’s a nice, orderly system.

Except when it isn’t. Unfortunately, creativity has no respect for schedules and orderly systems.

I’ll explain. Last month The Husband and I took a trip to Las Vegas. We had won it some time ago and it had come down to use it or lose it, so of course we used it. We were put up in the Plaza, an older but nicely refurbished hotel/casino at the end of the Fremont Experience. That’s sort of an outdoor mall – it used to be one of the main downtown streets, but they closed it off, put an enormous canopy over it (way over it – 6 or 8 stories!) to keep the worst of that vicious Las Vegas sun off. I personally prefer the funky downtown Fremont Experience to the Strip.

When we left I had just finished the final edits on the new Flora Melkiot mystery – Murder in Death’s Waiting Room – and I had thought she was ready to be retired for a while. After all, I was already doing prep work on my new gothic and even had a couple of chapters written, then had started doing some early prep work on the first book about contract archaeologist Rachel Petrie. I also have two books ready to self-publish, and that takes a lot of work.

Except once in Vegas ideas began pelting me like summer hail in Texas – big and fast. Starchy, proper, elderly Flora and Las Vegas seemed made for each other. The entire story – motive, method, murderer, MacGuffins, clues (sorry – I couldn’t think of a word for clues beginning with ‘m’) – spooled through my head with terrifying cohesiveness. During our wandering around I wore a purse only big enough to hold my credit card, a hanky or two and my phone.

You know, that could be a writer’s vision of Hell – a great idea and no pencil or paper. However, I have adapted well to modern times, so while The Husband fiddled with the slots, I would sit and email ideas to myself on my phone.

It’s still a great idea, and I’ll probably write it just as soon as I finish this current, half-written gothic which has a hard deadline. And it works out well too, as my primary advisor for the Rachel Petrie series has to defend her PhD thesis this summer, so we’ve agreed to start over in the fall.


Schedules? How can they hope to stand up to inspiration?

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Audio Books, Tall Stools and the Glamour of Show Business, or my adventures as a recording artist

by Janis Patterson
On one of my writers’ eloops there has been a lively discussion about audio books. Some like them, some hate them, some are just glad to have another outlet to sell books and some want to know how to do them. Oh, has that brought back memories!

Having been an actress at one time (The Husband says I still am, even though I haven’t been near a stage or microphone for years…)  I’ve narrated a couple of audio books. Believe me, it is a discipline all in itself and one of the most difficult in the entire entertainment industry. There are no facial expressions, no body language, no costume or make-up, nothing to convey emotion or character – nothing save your voice. It is potentially the hardest form of acting ever devised, and yet in the eyes of the general public it is one of the least respected.

To make a decent audio book you need (1) a good book – duh – (2) a good voice actor, or, depending on the book, several of them and (3) a good studio with good technicians. Sometimes the last is the hardest to find.

When I did my first audio book it was many years ago and the industry was still in the toddler stage. I don’t even know if Audible.com and other suppliers existed. I certainly didn’t know about them. The producer of the audio book was also the author, and she had very definite ideas of how it should be done. Some were actually workable. Some were not.

We did our first recording all in one room – the author/producer, the male voice talent, the technician and I – all huddled around a commercial version of a cassette recorder. The studio was small and old and unhappily located under an elevated freeway. A very busy elevated freeway. The tech was the only one with earphones, and we’d have to stop and re-record every few minutes because of traffic noise. Needless to day, the quality was terrible – so bad that the author, who had been trying to save pennies by using the bargain service, decided to re-record the whole thing.

This time we moved into a more professional studio complex. There were three rooms in a row, each solid black and about the size of a small walk-in closet – one for the male talent, one in the center for the tech, the equipment and the author/producer, and one for me. The only trouble was, all three rooms were sealed. Mine had one solid door and no windows at all. Our only contact with the outside world was through our headphones. I am somewhat claustrophobic, but made myself rise above it for the good of my art. (Big, sarcastic grin. It was more about the money.)

All well and good, but this was summer in Texas and the temperature was brutal. To make things worse, the noise of the air conditioner invariably picked up on the tape. Because of contractual and other complications, we couldn’t record at night, when the temperature was marginally cooler. No, not cooler. Less hot. So – we would take breaks and run the a/c, drink lots of water and in my case try not to freak out at being enclosed in a small room completely painted black. Then, when the temperature was bearable, we’d turn off the a/c and start recording. After a while we’d repeat the process. The 100,000 word plus book took about five days to record. Five very long days.

Well, that helped, but not enough. After about the first hour of recording, I stripped off my shorts and shirt and recorded in my bra, panties and headphones. I even stripped off my jewelry, and those of you who know me realize what a drastic step that was!

In each of the talent’s rooms there was a tall and very uncomfortable stool, an adjustable black (of course) metal music stand and a set of earphones on a long cord that snaked away to a plug in the wall. That was it. Our scripts were a stack of individual sheets and as one page was finished we would just drop it to the floor. White papers spread like random snow over a black floor in a black room only added to the surreal quality of the session.

The funniest part was that the book concerned a very wealthy man who wanted to do nothing but pamper this beautiful woman, to the extent of building her a fabulous house in the mountains. Most of the actions took place during snow season, so there was lots of talk about fabulous jewels and mounds of furs and even a passionate rendezvous while on a skiing run. Yes, I performed all that, becoming that wealthy woman swathed in furs in a cold climate, all the while sitting on an uncomfortable stool in a sweltering black room while sweat dripped from my nose and my chin and from almost every portion of my anatomy, including my toes.

The audio book sold rather well, even though now I feet the writing could have been stronger. I ran across my cassettes (yes, it was that long ago!) not too long ago and played a little. In one of the snow sequences there had been a wind background lightly laid in, and it was great – I could honestly feel the cold and shivery nature of the scene, even though I knew how miserably hot the taping session had been.

Another crisis of our miniscule budget was that it was one track – ie, recorded straight through, without doing separate tracks for each character even when two women or two men were speaking to each other. That made for some very sophisticated – and scary – vocal gymnastics.

I felt I earned my spurs as a voice actress from one scene alone, a scene where the heroine and the villainess and the wise old woman get into a rip-roaring fight, all screaming at each other. Each had their own voice, their own intonation and accent – and, of course, each was me. That scene gave ‘talking to yourself’ an entirely new dimension.

I listened to that sequence again too, and for its time and genesis, it wasn’t too bad. They used the second take, even though I think the first was better – at least what there was of it. In an effort to make my performance as energetic as possible, I was swinging my arms and putting a lot of physical energy into the fight scene – so much so that I tipped over the stool and went crash on the painted concrete floor. The noise – especially through headphones – must have been horrendous, for before I could raise my somewhat bewildered head everyone, including the male talent, the tech, the author and several employees of the studio, came charging in. Of course, I was sprawled full out, surrounded by a snowstorm of script pages, more than a little dazed and wearing nothing but a sweat-saturated bra and panties.

Needless to say, that was the end of the day’s session. I regard it as a tribute to my professionalism (to say nothing of courage) that I actually came back and re-recorded the entire scene.

After that I recorded two more audio books, both in much better studios and there was absolutely nothing memorable about either session.

All three books are out of print now, and probably should be, as the industry has moved so far forward in the intervening years. Still, though, I cannot forget that early session, try though I might. If nothing else, it serves as a reminder of the glamour of show business!

Saturday, February 22, 2014

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.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Back From Texas


BACK FROM TEXAS
Randy Rawls

I've just returned from seven delightful days in Texas. Got to see some friends, had Thanksgiving with my daughter and her family in Austin, did a TV interview in Kerrville a signing in Georgetown, bought a new hat in Bryan, and enjoyed the Texas landscape. Time well spent.

As anyone who knows me is aware, I'm a devoted Texan at heart. I tell folks it's because I grew up as part of the John Wayne generation. Big John was all over the place, putting bad men away. And, of course, in almost every movie was that glorious western background. Yeah, I know much of it was filmed outside Texas, but, for me, it was everything I imagined Texas to be.

I fit the mold of the non-Texan who was not born there, but got there as fast as I could. Then, I moved away, moved to the warm weather of South Florida. Last Monday morning reminded me I made a pretty good decision. A November freeze descended on Austin. Brr. This country-boy was not warm, nor was he happy. And, while it wasn't quite as cold on Tuesday (the day I left), it was close enough to make me yearn for Florida.

Folks in the airport at Fort Lauderdale gave me some funny looks when I walked through the terminal in long pants and a heavy leather jacket. I just smiled at them, knowing it had felt darn good that morning.

So, I'm home again—and warm again—but I already miss Texas. I can hardly wait for my next trip. Maybe I'll wait till Spring though.

To my good Texas friends, Sylvia Dickey Smith (WORLD OF HER OWN) and
Earl Staggs (MEMORY OF A MURDER), I say enjoy being Texans. But keep your warm clothes nearby.

Just sign me "A Texan at Heart Living in the Warm Paradise of South
Florida."

Randy Rawls
THORNS ON ROSES