Category: travel

Adieu, Malice

~ sharon ~ Leave a comment

For the past four years, I’ve been working behind the scenes for the mystery conference Malice Domestic®. This year, I stepped down. With mixed emotions.

(Photo courtesy Malice Domestic/John Mewshaw)

The board I worked with this year was absolutely the best.

As with any new endeavor, the first year involved a steep learning curve. I really didn’t know what I was getting into when I offered my desktop publishing skills — learned over years of working in newspaper design — for the MD program. Turns out, my incredibly talented predecessor, Rita Owen, was doing way more than just slapping some program pages together. I never did fill her footsteps, as elements of the job she handed off to me got distributed among other board members.

My first year at the conference also was the first in-person Malice after COVID shut it down. My program had to incorporate two years of honorees and nominations and more. It was not flawless. (Not one of them has been.) And I lived in the office for most of the conference. I made it to two Sunday morning sessions in rooms that were mere footsteps away from my windowless corner office.

The second year went a little better, but I didn’t make it to a single session. Don’t get me wrong. I did make it to the banquet and the Agatha tea both years. They were wonderful. And I was hopeful for year three.

But shortly after we cleaned up and got home from Bethesda, Maryland, where Malice Domestic is held, we suffered through a painful board transition that threatened to derail a long-standing mystery community tradition. Cindy Silberblatt, who had been chair years before, stepped up and reeled us all back in. We had super help from our anthology publisher, John Betancourt of Wildside Press, to ensure that element of our tradition wasn’t interupted. Though it wasn’t our original theme, he and his hard-working staff gave us Mystery Most Devious (followed by this year’s Mystery Most Humorous) on time for our signing session. Even our honorees worked tirelessly to ensure a seamless conference.

A family health concern meant I was unable to attend the conference, though, so my fingers were crossed I could actually be there for my fourth Malice this year.

(Photo courtesy Malice Domestic/John Mewshaw)

Despite an unexpected budget hit — I had to get a new furnace — I managed to get to Bethesda for the conference. Since it was my last year on the board, I really wanted to see a few sessions. And, thanks to the generous (and sometimes goofy) board that I worked with, I did!

I finally feel like I’ve had the fun, fan experience that is is Malice Domestic®. I made it to several sessions, including the Guest of Honor interview of Marcia Talley and the Lifetime Achievement interview of Donna Andrews.

I got to visit with fans and authors alike. Everyone was so friendly you really needed the nametags to know who was a fan and who was an author.

I enjoyed the Dorothy Gilman book club session in honor of our “Malice Remembers” author. I hope that becomes a tradition. I bought a trunk of middle grade books at the live auction. My grands and greats will enjoy that. (Yes, I have both.) I had fun, and added a couple of rows to my current afghan project, at Ellen Byron’s crafting session in the hospitality room.

(Photo courtesy Tassey A. Russo)

I was busy on Thursday when Jane Cleland hosted a pre-Malice writing workshop, but I was lucky enough to join her table at the Agatha Awards banquet. She was a marvelous hostess and I enjoyed the company of everyone at our table. (Jane is wearing a red jacket.) I always love her Saturday morning workshops, and I finally had a chance to thank her in person. If you haven’t read her Josie Prescott Antiques Mysteries, give them a try.

(Photo courtesy Rebecca Brittenham)

I even got to go to my first signing session as a short story author! A half dozen of the Guppies who are included in the eighth Guppy Anthology, Gone Fishin’: Crime Takes a Holiday, had our own signing session on Sunday morning. I have to thank the rest of the Malice board for making that happen, too. (Here’s hoping it becomes a new tradition.)

I’m sad to admit I’m probably not going to be able to attend next year for MD38, but I’m saving my money for a future Malice. (And I know a new furnace isn’t going to mess with my budgeting!)

If you like mysteries and have never attended Malice, I encourage you to go. The conference celebrates traditional mysteries in the vein of Agatha Christie (hence their awards, the Agathas). Check it out at malicedomestic.net! There’s still time for the early bird discount.

But for now, I need to hit the road for the next stop on my spring road trip.

À bientôt!

Winter market

~ sharon ~ 4 Comments

Farmers’ markets in my area are suimmer affairs that I rarely attend. I live on a country road and there are sale signs for eggs and honey and corn and more about a mile in any direction. But when the “season” is over, some of those signs come down.

I ventured south this month to drive a friend home to Houston and stayed for a short visit. On one of our outings, we went to a farmers’ market on a warm (only needed a sweater) winter day. I bought a few things, but I suspect my favorite will be my poem.

With her portable typewriter and tip jar, a young woman studying to be a midwife and doula was raising money to open a business to help women during pregnancy and birth. Her sign, painted on the typewriter case, drew me in immediately.

I’d heard of people who sell poems by request. I’ve even toyed with the idea of offering that kind of servicde at charity events, but never followed through.

Ziara Kýre York, however, has taken the plunge. Sitting at her small table between market stalls, she waited with a smile for someone to check out her wares. I asked for a short poem about vacation, dropped a bill into her jar, and waited a few minutes as she wound a pre-cut, thick sheet of creamy paper under the platten, thought for a few minues, and began to type.

I bought cookies and a mug warmer, all-natural snacks and a pottery pencil holder. I talked to farmers, crafters and a painter, listened to music from a lone guitarist in the midst of the fair. But at home, I’ll be buying a frame for my original poem about “vacation” to hang it on the wall near my computer. It’s nice to honor a crafter who works in the same medium that I do … words.

A bientôt!

South and back

~ sharon ~ Leave a comment

Just yesterday, I heard a “honk of geese” (that’s not the collective noun, but it should be) and looked up to see two V’s flying southeast over my house. That annual flight pattern always makes me think it’s time to get ready for winter.

Pexels pic

All month long, I’ve been meaning to do the math to figure out how much farther I’ve faux-walked (treadmill) and faux-biked (stationary) on the virtual trek I started down the Mississippi two years ago in October. Less sedentary folks would have made the journey multiple times by now. But I’ve been too busy to find each day’s tally. I do know I’ve made progress this year, but knowing the actual distance will have to wait. I can already pledge to try to do better next year, though.

I did make an actual car trek to Alabama in the beginning of the month to visit my youngest and his family. (No pix, sorry.) The worst of that trip was the day I–the avowed five-hour-a-day-max driver–was stuck on a highway that I later learned was closed by state police for two hours to conduct a high speed chase. Their high speeds meant turtle pace and stand-stills for the rest of us. I missed an early rerouting that might have saved me some of the nine hours I eventually spent in the car. Threw me off the rest of the ride home. (The visit, by the way, was wonderful.)

Guppy illustration

But the biggest delay in Mississippi River math early in the month was making final revisions on my short story for the Sisters in Crime Guppy Chapter eighth anthology, Gone Fishin’: Crime Takes a Holiday. (It’ll be out in February.) It’s my first fiction publication and I’m probably more excited about it than I should be. But I have always loved short stories. The first fiction I ever wrote was a short story–science fiction–about a lab that reached absolute zero. This one is about a vacation in Croatia that goes terribly wrong for a nanny and her ward. It’s called “Blood on the White Rose.” I can hardly wait to hold it in my hands.

Making the changes the editor suggested (after finishing the ones my critique group suggested) was different. He saw some clear holes, only one of which I knew I hadn’t dealt with well. I hope it’s better now. I have no idea if my post-acceptance experience was typical. But I’m working on another short story, so, with luck, I’ll find out. In any case, it was one of the challenges keeping me from the Mississippi walk math. And I’m anxious to get back to my short story now.

I’ve added two writing sessions to my routine this month. I need more time on task (and, apparently, less doing Mississippi math). And I signed up for the Sisters in Crime November Marathon. With luck, that will help me make progress on my novel! I’ll keep you posted.

A bientôt!

A month at home

~ sharon ~ Leave a comment
collage of people and places in Wisconsin
Sharon’s 2023 June pix and collage

For the first time in several years, I spent the entire month of June at home. And what do I have to show for it?

My biggest thrill since May is that I learned a short story I wrote was selected for the Sisters in Crime Guppy Chapter anthology, Gone Fishing: Crime Takes a Holiday. I have comments from the editor and I’ll be making changes before the book comes out next February. That alone makes this a great month to be home.

But I also have a bit more than 13,000 words in my novel rewrite. And I spent some time with visiting family and friends.

I also took a few more random drives than I normally do this month because I was itching to get out of the house and see places. There’s something about being on the road that always sparks my imagination.

Compared to last year, when I spent days doing research in the Driftless Region of the Upper Mississippi and visiting museums in Wisconsin and Iowa, all after meeting people and learning things at Cop Camp and Writer’s Police Academy, this June seemed pretty tame.

I still have to master the discipline of working on the road. Award-winning journalist and author, Hank Phillippi Ryan, told me last year that she retreats to her hotel room at conferences so she can maintain her daily writing schedule. No wonder she wins awards!

Still, travel is a way to widen one’s experience in a way that sitting with books or travel shows on TV just can’t do.

I feel the need for a short, research trip. Maybe — if I can get to 50,000 words on my novel revision — I should plan a short jaunt to another spot in the Midwest that I want to write about.

In the meantime, I should put my words toward that effort.

À bientôt!

I resolve to …

~ sharon ~ 2 Comments

Now that I’m moving into my third year of “mostly retirement,” I’ve finally realized I’ve been keeping myself nearly as busy as I was when I worked full time.

But I don’t have to.

Last January, I resolved to start a new timekeeping habit. I’m glad I did. I’ve already added a page to my spreadsheet for 2024.

My first year as a personal timekeeper wasn’t perfect. I missed whole weeks — many of them while traveling to and from a variety of writing conferences. I also didn’t keep great records when I tried to squeeze in a little writing time while on family trips. Then I lost a couple weeks toward the end of 2023 when I caught the worst cold I’ve had in years! I can’t remember the last one that sent me home to bed. (I tested; it wasn’t covid.)

But I learned a lot from the incomplete data that I managed to collect. (I do love data.)

First, I have to cut my conference attendance. They are tons of fun and I love seeing old friends, making new ones, and learning tricks of the writing trade. But I’ve decided I can only do one writing event in 2024. Going virtually cold turkey will be hard, but I have to do it.

I’ve also known for a while that I was over committed to volunteer projects. Especially ones that play to the strengths I developed over years of working. I’ve always been taught to give back, and once I stopped working full time it seemed like there was more time to give.

But a couple of volunteer roles that were simple when I took them on developed “project creep” when other board members dropped out. Things still had to get done.

And there was one role I stepped into a few years ago that didn’t give me a full “job description” when I said yes. I’ve since discovered that other board members took on some of the tasks no one mentioned to me. And I learned “on the job” about other expectations I wasn’t prepared for. That one group consumed more than half of my “volunteer giving” hours in 2023.

The other 11 groups I helped in 2023 took slightly less than half of all my volunteer hours last year. One “group” is my former full-time employer, which still asks me to fill in from time-to-time. I tote it up with the volunteer time because I could say no. (But they still pay me, so I say yes.)

While I willingly agreed to do more “for a while” when board compositions changed, “a while” is over.

I’ve already finished my commitments to two of the 11 groups. The terms I committed to range from a year, or two, or three, to indefinite. I’m giving some serious thought to resigning from a couple others. And you can bet I’m counting the months until I finish my term for the major time-sucking organization (TSO).

I did a quick calculation of how the percentages would have looked without that TSO in 2023. I’d have had 43% in volunteer time; 36% in learning and research; and 21% in writing and revising. That’s still not where I want my writing time to be, so I’ll have to trim more of the volunteer time.

My goal for 2024 is 50% of my time in writing and revising, 30% in learning and research, and 20% in volunteering. That’s one day a week in “work hours.” I think that’s still pretty generous. And I think I can do it.

Just remember, if you ask me to do anything in 2024, don’t be surprised if I just say NO! Don’t take it personally. I still love you and your organization. But I really want to finish some of the writing projects that I’ve dabbled with for decades.

And I won’t even mention all the stuff around the house that I haven’t done because of everything else. But that’s another story….

I’ll let you know how it works out.

À bientôt!