We're busting with pride to announce BOOKPLATE SPECIAL, by our own Lorraine Bartlett, also known as LORNA BARRETT, has been nominated for an Agatha Award for Best Novel of 2009.
Way to go, Lorraine/Lorna!
The awards will be announced on May 1st at the Malice Domestic conference banquet.
We've got our fingers crossed!
If you've been following the Amazon vs. McMillan debacle, you know that all McMillan authors are biting their nails--and losing sales--while Amazon drags its feet to put back all the McMillan titles it stripped from their virtual shelves last Friday.
Doubly troubling, Doranna's new book (OUT TODAY!) is one of those titles. (From Tor.)
Please support not only Doranna, but all the McMillan authors, and buy their books. You can get THE RECKONERS from Barnes and Noble, or via IndieBound, and lots of other online retailers. The important thing, though, is to BUY THAT BOOK!
Thanks!
posted by Doranna Durgin aka...er...no aka!
It was the one thing I was never interested in doing.
Not because I felt there wasn't intrinsically any point, but because I rarely watched one that...well, that I finished watching.
Book trailers.
At first blush, they seemed like an exciting opportunity...a chance to add some Shiny to web sites, and a way to reveal the true sense of a book.
Problem is, I tend to look at things from the inside out when it comes to the web. After nearly fifteen years of building web sites (yes, there were web sites way back then, smarty-pants), I look at shiny new things and ponder not just how shiny they are, but whether they're robust across browsers.
Translated, that means how many people will throw their hands up in frustration, experience browser crashes, or stare blankly at a "missing plug-in" message.
The answer is, lots. Even now.
And then there's the whole "added value" aspect of things. If a method of showing off a book doesn't, in fact, reveal more about the book than previous opportunities, then its only value is the shiny. I like to play as much as the next person, but I'm also a little prone to peeking behind the yellow curtain.
Or maybe it's the emperor has no clothes. Pick your metaphor!
Point being, I wasn't seeing book videos that captured my imagination, or that told me more about the book than I could learn by reading the cover flap/ looking at the cover (and at my own pace, at that). And the visual slideshow of image...text...image...text...
Not workin' for me. As a reader, I mean (because shoot yes, I swing both ways when it comes to books).
So there wasn't a whole lot of chance that I'd be getting myself a book trailer. La la la. Busy doing other things, kthanxbai.
Well, things change. Embedded YouTube videos are a decently stable format, for one thing.
And out there in promo-land, some book trailer folks are finally hitting the sweet spot--taking true advantage of the medium's potential while offering some decent modest-budget packages along with their holy cow, you want what for that? services.
I stumbled across one such company last year, and instantly targeted The Reckoners for my first book trailer. I had fun with it, too--co-writing the script, tweaking the visuals...and getting all excited when the artists on the other end took my comments and came up with solutions I hadn't imagined. I'm not used to being on this side of the fun!
And that, of course, is the point of this whole blog. TO SHOW OFF THE BOOK TRAILER, PEOPLE!
I hope you think it's keen. I sure do!
Posted by Lorraine Bartlett--aka Lorna Barrett
I've been bugging my editor for weeks now to show me the cover. Yea--he did. But then they couldn't decide if they wanted the title to have an AND or an ampersand.
The ampersand won! And here's the cover. (What do you think?)
But I have even MORE news. (Sounds like one of those informercials. But wait, order now and....) I'm very pleased to announce that the Booktown Mysteries will soon (relatively speaking) be available as audiobooks (and downloadable). The recording for the first book, MURDER IS BINDING, was to have begun last week.
It was very exciting to talk to the production manager at Deyan Audio about certain pronunciations. (Who knew Squamscot soda pop was actually pronounced Squamskit? And if you're in New Hampshire, why don't you try some of the local soda. It's de-lish!) He also said I'd be hearing from him about other questions they have as they get read to record the other books.
And I already know who my reader will be: the lovely (and lovely voiced) Cassandra Campbell. I've heard a sample of her work, and I think she'll do a great job performing the books.
I know I can't wait to hop in my car and spent lots of gas money listening to the book on CDs.
Do you like to listen to audiobooks?
We're pleased to share that Lorna Barrett (Lorraine Bartlett) and Leann Sweeney held spots on a couple of bookstore bestseller lists for 2009.
Murder By The Book
#14 - The Cat, The Quilt, and the Corpse, Leann Sweeney
Mystery Lovers Bookshop
#2 - Bookplate Special, Lorna Barret
#3 - Bookmarked for Death, Lorna Barrett
#16 - The Cat, The Quilt, and the Corpse, Leann Sweeney
Congratulations to both!
Please give Sisters In Crime a hand and forward this message to your favorite library.
Only U.S. libraries may enter the drawing.
To enter, simply complete the entry form and upload a photo of one or more of your staff with three books in your collection by Sisters in Crime members. You can find a list of members on the website here.
After the random drawing on the last business day of the month, the winning library will be contacted and announced. All branches within a larger system may enter; however, once a library in the system has won, no other libraries within that system can win the grant. Those not successful in one month will automatically be entered for subsequent drawings. Grants must be used to purchase books and may not be used for general operating expenses. Book purchases are NOT restricted to the mystery genre nor to those by Sisters in Crime members. There is no cost or obligation other than allowing us to post winners' photos on our website.
All libraries are welcome to enter.
If you have Sisters in Crime author mysteries in your collection we would love for you to enter this money giveaway.
We at Sisters in Crime LOVE our libraries and want to see them thrive.
Enter for your library's chance to win beginning January 1, 2010 at www.sistersincrime.org. Here's the entry form.
If you have any questions please contact Beth Wasson.
Doranna Durgin can be found at her fledgling blog, WordPlay, or over at her
long-established internet "living room" newsgroup on SFF Net. She
has books out in January (actually, right now!) Wolf Hunt, and on February 2nd, The Reckoners, which starts a new fantasy series
with Tor. (It's now available for preorder.)
Leann Sweeney is the newest chick on the Cozy Chicks Blog. Catch her posts on Sundays (hey, that's today--go right on over and see what she's up to--do it now!). And don't miss her second book in the Cats In Trouble Mystery Series, The Cat, The Professor, and the Poison, which is available for preorder and will be available on May 4th.
You can also catch Lorraine Bartlett/Lorna Barrett on the Cozy Chicks Blog on Saturdays, or her own blog, Dazed and Confused, most days of the week. Lorna's next book, Chapter and Hearse, is available for preorder, and will be released on August 3, 2010. And Lorraine's first Victoria Square Mystery, A Matter of Murder, will be available in February of 2011.
posted by Jeanne Munn Bracken
This is it, folks. The final Writer's Plot blog. Finito. Done. Or not...
Writing a weekly blog was a lot like writing a weekly column, which I did for 22 1/2 years. So the past not-quite-three years was like Old Home Day for me, except on Wednesday night instead of Thursday or, when I was really pushing the deadline envelope, Sunday night.
It does seem, though, appropriate, that I get the last word, because 2010 is probably going to be a transitional year for the Brackens. I plan to retire next summer and kick back, relax, sleep late, and write the projects I've been researching for years. And besides that, I have other plans:
Since I have not yet run out of opinions to share, I will continue blogging; my new website has a blog feature I will figure out and use. (www.jeannemunnbracken.com if you're keeping score)
Happy New Year to All, and to all a Good Blog.
Kate's Post....
Believe me, you do not want me to sing to you. No one does. Much as I love to sing, when I start in, cats howl and neighbors call the police to report a monster in the woods. But those words from The Sound of Music seemed to fit this last week of posting with the other ladies here at Writer's Plot. I just don't know what I'll do with myself without a Wednesday morning deadline. I might just sleep in instead of hurling myself out of bed at o dark thirty (whatever the heck that means) and slipping silently into my chair, sitting in the gloom and staring at the shiny silver screen, waiting for my brain to come on line and start tossing out words.
Today I went back through some of the old posts, copying them for posterity, or at least, until this computer dies. Reading through a year of them, I was struck by something that had never occurred to me before. For many years, my mother wrote weekly newspaper columns on gardening and country living. I was always awestruck by her erudition--she knew so much about so many things--and by her ability to have a fresh idea to write about every week, year after year. When I went back and looked at my own blogs, I realized that in some small way, I am following in my mother's footsteps. It is a pleasing thought indeed.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I've become enough of an old fogey that I really hate change. I don't like to have to learn to use new appliances--those stoves that require a Ph.D to operate, the microwaves that have control panels that look like they belong in the cockpits of jets, the fancy new flat screen TV that requires three different remotes to play a DVD, unless you have a child of twelve around to help out. I hate the new energy saving bulbs that make it feel like I live in a cave for the first few minutes that they're on and won't fit in many of my lamps. I don't want my cell phone to come with a hundred apps. I just want it to work in case of emergency.
So of course, I hate to think about the end of writer's plot, even though I've always considered myself as a temporary sub for Doranna. Without Lorraine to drag me out of my cave, I'm bound to retreat to my former luddite status. Thanks to her, I've got a presence on Facebook and My Space and lots of nice friends. I've enjoyed the kindness of all my sister bloggers. It's bound to feel different next week when Wednesday rolls around.
But change happens. This Christmas, amidst the usual chaos of relatives arriving, boxes piling up at the door, and the mandatory dozen extra trips to the grocery store, I went out with my son and his lovely fiancee, Robyn, to scout wedding venues. It means that sometime in the next year, my son will take that next, rather final feeling step away from this family as he forms a new family of his own. It also means that after thirty years of sons, I'm going to be getting a daughter. It was exciting to walk through several prospective wedding venues and imagine Robyn in a lovely dress and Jake in a tux. To imagine our family and friends and neighbors gathered to watch the handsome man they've watched grow up marry his beloved Robyn. The young couple were even kind to me when the sentimental old mom played them Kenny Chesney's "You Had Me From Hello."
So I guess this IS goodbye. I'm off to Egypt in a few weeks, and I'll be thinking about you as I see camels and pyramids, temples and gods. As I cruise on the Nile, feeling slightly guilty because I'm not at my desk working. And maybe, when I get back, I'll start blogging on my website, www.kateflora.com, as I set out to do several years ago.
Perhaps you'll drop by? I promise not to sing.
Posted by Lorraine Bartlett
Hubby and I have several Christmases. Friday morning, we did stockings with his mother. Friday evening, we did a presents exchange with my family. On Saturday night, hubby and I did our own gift exchange.
I like that. It draws out the fun, gives you something to look forward to. Stocking stuffers are always fun. We've been trying to cut down on the goodies that go into them (think chocolate: milk, dark, chili (can't wait to try that one), little boxes of Russell Stovers), but inevitably, they stockings are stuffed with them. Hubby tries to be good, and somehow I always end up with purple, pink, and turquoise pens--makes it easier to find the changes when I edit a manuscript. And he always includes those little Post-It tabs that I can use when editing a ms to mark the pages I have changes on. (By the time I'm done reading, there's a rainbow of tabs sticking out!)
My brother always gets me the best stuff. This year he gave me the Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince DVD (which I did not get to see at the theater), AND Julie and Julia (which I did), AND the best of Will Farrell on Saturday Night Live, and even MORE stuff. (He really goes overboard and I LOVE IT.) On Sunday, he called me to ask what I'd gotten from my hubby. LOTS of DVDs (it's going to be tough to sit down and write the next book and NOT be tempted by all those lovely movies and the entire run of several TV shows). So I dutifully gave him low-down.
His puzzled reaction: "I thought you said you got good stuff."
Hey, I happen to love every one of those movies, including A Christmas Story, Inside Moves, Murder By Decree--I haven't seen the latter two in a long time and wonder if they'll hold up to what I remember. It'll be interesting to see Murder By Decree again (Sherlock Holmes as played
by Christopher Plummer, with James Mason as Watson), especially considering I plan to go see the new Sherlock Holmes movie with Robert Downey Jr. (who I love!!!). And it was odd to find out that the director of Murder By Decree also directed A Christmas Story. Talk about opposite ends of the spectrum!
My brother was also absolutely horrified to find out that hubby had also given me the 1096-page biography of the Queen Mum. I had to shake my head at that one. I've already read the first two chapters and can't wait to really dive into it.
So I guess it's true--one man's trash is another man's (or woman's) treasure.
And what did Santa bring YOU this Christmas?
-------------------------------------------- P.S. I hope you'll join me on Saturdays on the Cozy Chicks Blog. They'll be returning on Sunday with a new Chick--and I'll be returning on Jan. 16th (we have a guest taking my Jan. 9th spot.) See you there!
Posted by Sheila Connolly and Sarah Atwell--for the last time
As of the end of this week, Writers Plot is disbanding. It was a shared decision: we've moved in different directions with our writing careers, and this blog format just wasn't working for everyone any more.
When we began WP, the blogosphere was a lot younger, and we've watched as it has grown and prospered. It's been terrific to get to know so many fellow blog-writers and share stories and skills with them.
I know writing a weekly blog has helped me learn to write short (always a struggle, since I tend to fall in love with my words) and to the point. Sometimes it felt like writing an editorial, when I had a point I wanted to make; sometimes it was more like writing an entry in a diary, as I and my blogbuddies talked about personal experiences, past and present. I've written one hundred and thirty seven posts since March 2007–I had to go back and count.
It has also been a joy working with Writers Plot's diverse and talented authors. We've expressed different viewpoints and styles, but always with an underlying honesty. We've tried to entertain and communicate at the same time, and I hope we've been successful.
But don't worry–I'm not going to disappear. With three books to write in 2010, and three other books to promote, and conferences across the country, and helping to manage New England Crime Bake, I'll be very, very busy.
Thank you all for stopping by Writers Plot over the past three years, and for sharing your comments with us.
The authors of Writers Plot have decided to end this blog. Our last post
will be December 31st.
We hope you'll join us on our final week.
posted by Jeanne Munn Bracken
I feel sorry for my friends who don't have cable television. I mean, for the mere price of one night at a mid-range hotel room, we have an entire month's worth of access to hundreds of shows. Okay, a lot of those shows are...well, lame, or boring, or just plain dumb.
Really--how many times can we watch reruns of "The King of Queens" before we can recite the dialog along with Doug and Carrie and Arthur? And I never got the charm of Seinfeld, although I do love "The New Adventures of Old Christine" (but would somebody please explain to me--did Richard marry Barb or didn't he? I get so confused...)
"30 Rock" used to be pretty good, but this season, not so much. My husband is easily satisfied--if there is a World War II documentary on, he's all good. Sheesh!
My new favorites, though, are the cleaning shows. I used to watch a British one where the cleaning ladies ask, "How Clean is Your House?" The answer, invariably, is "not very" before the show stars tackle things, clean up what seemed like horrible filth even to me, and reform the slobs into neatniks--for at least as long as the cameras are running.
I liked "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," too, where the five fellows cleaned up and redecorated some bachelor's pad, taught him how to dress, groom himself, and cook, all in an hour. Pretty impressive.
My new favorite, though, is "Hoarders." A screen shot at the beginning of each episode notes that hoarding is a mental illness and no laughing matter. The cleanup team includes a therapist, some family members, and professional junk collectors. The houses, though--defy description. Some of the homes look pretty normal from the outside; (this, admittedly, from a woman who had an old toilet sitting in the yard for so long there was talk of using it as a planter. Don't ask. Please.)
I mean, I used to joke all the time that we were going to clean out one kid's room with a shovel. But this is what the cleaners have to do on "Hoarders." These homes are so far gone that relationships are foundering, usually the health board is lurking in the wings, and foreclosure is often threatened. Interestingly, the homeowners are often well-educated, thoughtful and forthcoming. The ages have ranged from an elementary school boy to elderly men and women.
"Hoarders" is a show I watch with jaw dropping and eyes bugging. Our house is no "House Beautiful" spread, but at least it's reasonably healthy. It doesn't take much for the clutter to get out of hand, but there comes a point when even I can't stand it any more and tackle the mess (while family members and pets head for the hills, since my mood at that point is usually pure poison.)
Yeah, "Hoarders" makes me look good. I spent hours last spring cleaning up my office until it was totally neat and organized. Then the kids moved out and took my bookcases. (I let them. What was I thinking?) So the little room, about 9 by 9, is now a maze of piled books and papers. I can whip it back into shape in a short time, but the bookcase I'll need is filled at the moment with manuscript papers and research materials from The Cancer Book From Hell. All I need is time. Hah.
Besides, we are trying to clean out Mom's house. She lived there for 40 years, and guess where I learned my Yankee-thrift-don't-throw-away-anything-that-might-be-useful-some-day? Yep, from Mom. We are having to sort through not only her stuff, but also stuff that belonged to her mother, as well as two mothers-in-law...you get the picture.
On the plus side, unlike "Hoarders", there are no goats chewing their way through the wall or cats multiplying madly in the corners. The only animal carcasses here are the dearly departed mice that Mongo, a/k/a Killer, leaves for us to find.
Still, there but for the grace of God... How sad.
Some Asian cultures clean their houses in preparation for the New Year. Sounds like a good plan to me. If only I had six months to get it done.
So Merry Christmas, if that is your choice, and for heaven's sake, don't hang on to the used wrapping paper and boxes.
Happy Holidays from Kate.
No blog today. Sorry. Too busy driving from one mansion to another with my son and his lovely fiancee, scouting wedding venues. The gifts aren't wrapped yet. Some are still in the mail and may not arrive in time, and the rest gather dust as we chug from place to place, imaging green lawns under the snow, and long white dresses instead of tightly buttoned coats. Sometime today a turkey must be procured, a dessert for Christmas dinner decided on, adequate nutrition for my vegetarian daughter-in-law to be included in the traditional holiday dinner. But we are walking down long halls on elegant old carpets, under highly detailed ceilings and imaging where the bride will walk--down a staircase? Down the wide stone steps?
Bride's rooms with tall mirrors and enough empty floor space for that beautiful gown. Grooms rooms--formerly the smoking rooms of millionaires--complete with a big screen TV concealed in an armoire. Menus. Open bars. Linens. Flowers. My husband's eyes goggle when I tell him how it all adds up. So do mine.
We got married in the hippie era--someone's living room, or out in an autumn field--and all of this feels foreign and hard to process. But there is nothing lovelier than new love, nothing more pleasing, really, than watching this young couple taking it in, supporting each other through the process, asking complimentary questions as they try to get a sense of what, in this barrage of information, dollar signs, and personalities, is "them."
I haven't baked a single cookie this season. The poinsettias are already dropping their leaves. One holiday cactus is in rebellion, scattering its tiny pink buds across the sideboard instead of opening. The long, heavy stalk of amaryllis suddenly folded in the middle and collapsed instead of bursting forth in bloom. The world's ugliest centerpiece, a ghastly three-tired droop of faux green leaves and red plastic berries, bought as a joke at Home Depot one year, is surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper. It doesn't need water or care, just the occasional flick with a duster. I'm liking it better all the time.
On the way to the gym in a few minutes--a futile activity given how much sugar gets consumed at this season on a daily basis--I'll blast some holiday music and see if I can get myself moved into a holiday mood--before I get back in the car and drive to the train station to collect my sister-in-law. Then it's off to the grocery store. When am I going to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" or "Love Actually" or any of my other Christmas favorites? Could we just get a few extra hours over here?
But I am not complaining. Really. I think this is shaping up to be a lovely holiday week. Perhaps today Jake and Robyn will find the venue of their dreams. A turkey will be seized and dragged home. I'll have the patience to stroll through a crowded store with my 91-year-old mother-in-law.
Best of the season to you all....if you're here reading this, and even if, like me, you're out in your car, trying to get it finished up. Smile, remember what the season is about, and if you've got some free time---drop by and wrap my presents, please, will you?
Merry Happy!
Posted by Lorraine Bartlett
My Dad was a craftsman, and could do just about anything. He built half the furniture in my house. Heck, he gutted my first house and made it a home. (I impeded him with that operation, but learned a lot, as well.)
He went through a lot of hobbies. For a while he did leathercraft. I still have--and use--the wallet he made for me over 30 years ago. He made jewelry. (I wear 14 rings, five of them he made.) But one of his most endearing projects were his wood carvings--a hobby that stayed with him for a long time. He liked to do variations of Santa, and literally did hundreds of them. These little guys were one of his first efforts, and look pretty primitive when compared with his later work. He gave them to me for my birthday in 1992. When he'd finished them, he thought they looked like they were singing--and that they should do that under a lamppost--so he made one of those, too!
At first, he was very critical of the painting of his carvings, and even asked my husband to do a few, but in no time he was better at it than Frank, and adding more and more decorations to the little guys. He did fat Santas, tall Santas and a lot of short Santas.
His favorite were Tomties--little elves that help Santa. (As pictured on the right.) He made a LOT of these, and usually they were doing something, (like this little guy holding the candle) and usually wore "wooden" shoes.
I'm really not sure how Dad got into carving, but for him, it was an adventure, albeit a usually solitary affair. I had my critique group, and Dad had his carving buddies that he saw every few weeks. One of them moved to Berea, KY--home of The Kentucky Artisans center, which, like the name says, showcases the work Kentucky's best artisans. Dad's former carving partner wanted to make a certain carving, but it wouldn't come out right, so Dad made one and sent it to him as a prototype. Unknown to Dad, the man put Dad's carving into a local competition where it took first prize! (The one on the left is another version of that prizewinner.)
As far as adventures go, one day Dad was in his workshop carving, when he called up to my mother. "I've cut myself." She figured he'd cut his hand, but he'd actually dropped the knife on his thigh. When she got down to the workshop, there was so much blood, she thought he'd slashed an artery and got on the phone to 911, then hauled him upstairs to wait for the ambulance. There was blood everywhere--on the workshop floor, the stairs, all over the kitchen. The EMTs arrived in record time and got the bleeding under control, but they sent him to the ER just in case. Then they wanted to see THE CARVING KNIFE. When Mom showed the guy, he nearly went into hysterics of laughter. He'd been expecting a 10-inch carving knife, not a tiny 1-inch blade. (Hey, those suckers are sharp.) Ninety minutes later, Dad was belly-up to
the bar at my Aunt's house where they were supposed to go for dinner--and only 30 minutes late. (Hey, there was a Manhattan waiting with his name on it.)
One of my favorite carvings is Santa stuck in the chimney. From the top, all you see are Santa's legs sticking out--but turn the carving over, and there's Santa's sooty face.
Dad didn't do too many carvings these last few years. His remaining carving buddy moved away and it wasn't so much fun any more. But last year for Christmas he gave me two of his last efforts. One was unpainted, the other was a Bear dressed in overalls. They live in my office, with a couple of fishermen, an owl, and an unfinished Santa tree ornament. The rest of them reside on a little bookshelf in my living room. I have carved bunnies, birds, a deer, and even a walrus, and I love them all.
Dad passed away in October, so there won't be just one more "found" carving to go in my collection. (I know they're there--I've seen them in his workshop, which is pretty much just the way he left it.)
It's the end of a wonderful tradition. While it makes me terribly sad, I have all these wonderful pieces that Dad made, a lot of them signed "For Lorraine made by her Dad."
The were the best Christmas presents ever.
Posted by Sheila Connolly (Sarah Atwell does only cactus)
I had to go out and buy new Christmas tree lights this week. That shouldn't be a big deal, but it really brought home to me how much lights have changed since I first became aware of them.
I have pictures of every tree my family had, starting in 1950 (left). I won't bore you with them all (unless you really, really want me to), but they are surprisingly consistent. We always had real trees, and we always decorated them the same way. We resisted (and continue to) artificial trees, including those trees pre-wired with all the lights. We resisted "theme" trees in single colors, especially pink. I'll admit we did for a time use tinsel (that strand-by-strand kind), but eventually abandoned it.
Our tree-decorating was a tradition, and each year we would gather as a family, pulling each ornament out of the boxes (some of which are as old as I am), commenting on when and where we got them. My mother would sit back and supervise, dictating where each one should go, and how to balance the color distribution for the lights. It's a tradition I've tried to uphold ever since I officially left home, starting with the tree I had in my first apartment in Cambridge (right in the nice bay window in the front, facing Harvard Street), and the memorable tree in a later apartment for which my roommates and I enlisted the help of friends and neighbors at a party–which may explain why there were plastic molars (yes, teeth, from the orthodontist who lived upstairs) and carefully strung potato chips on that one.
But I was going to talk about lights. My parents had twinkle lights long before they were common–the string even had its own transformer, and the bulbs were hard to find, but at least they lasted. Then they invented lights that twinkled without help, although they give out pretty quickly. More than a decade ago I found a string of "programmable" lights that did all sorts of things. This year I plugged them in and they refused to do half of their tricks, and I didn't like the ones that were left. I've found an all-white one that is close but not quite the same. A couple of years ago I found a fabulous short string of lights that actually changed colors! I love those, but I can't find any more of them, and I've already broken one of the fragile bulbs. So I was left with one string of standard bulbs that I bought in 1972, which looks just like the string of standard bulbs my parents bought in 1950.
Obviously it was time to go shopping. I was surprised to find that there were pretty much only two choices: those (@#$%&*) little white/colored things (I have plenty of those, and I don't like them) and the more recent LED lights. I don't want to think of myself as a Luddite, so I bought a few strings, round and pointy (does that pointy form have a name? Does it think it's a pine cone? A flame?). And I'm going to grit my teeth and give them a try this year.
I could go on and on about the ornaments. I was even going to give you a forensic analysis, zooming in on the pictures of the trees from the 1950s and demonstrating that, yes, I'm still using some of the same ornaments; a few have survived and are now semi-antiques–as am I, I guess. Of course new ones have been added over the years, so many that there's no longer room for all of them on one tree. My sister and I usually give each other at least one new ornament each year, which keeps increasing the collection. And this year we have two kittens who have no idea what a treat they're in for (we introduced Dexter to snow today, and he's quite confused), so I'm guessing we'll be using the indestructible wooden and plastic ones this year, rather than the heirloom ornaments.
But I'm hoping I can get my (small) family to join in the decorating, and to remember the happy times of Christmases past. There's something magic about a twinkling, glowing tree covered with memories, isn't there?
What's your favorite ornament?
posted by Leann Sweeney
I am one of those people who get the Christmas blues every single year. But for once I am beginning to understand part of the reason. It's those darn commercials that begin in early November and continue on for more than two months--because they keep on selling stuff at bargain prices long past New Years. Not really bargains, but they sure want you to think so.
Okay, longest running least favorite Christmas commercial? "Every kiss begins with Kay." If that's true, then how did I give birth to two children without ever receiving anything from that jewelry store? Because, I must admit, kissing was involved in creating those children. So Kay is lying about EVERY kiss. And I am so disappointed in them for perpetuating that fairy tale year after year.
Next, the Hershey's kisses pretending to be bells. Annoying as all get out and yes, part of that annoyance is because I am allergic to chocolate. Do not keep reminding me, Hershey's. I'm depressed, remember?
People singing on mountain tops and trying to make us believe that Coke will make us all smile and hold hands and love one another. Coke is connected to dental visits, lap band surgery and Jenny Craig. Oh, and New Years Resolutions that will be forgotten by the time the Super Bowl rolls around.
Target convincing the gullible public that they can give their families everything they ever wanted and not overspend. No one ever bought one item at Target. Not in the history of the universe. On average, if people are like me, they walk out of Target having spent about twenty times more than they decided they would spend when they came in the door.
Toys 'R Us telling me over and over and over that I can shop at 3AM. Even when my kids were small, you wouldn't find me shopping in a toy store at that hour. So quit telling me to do this. I don't like your tactics or your commercials, Toys 'R Us.
Big bows on luxury cars. Raise your hand if you ever got a $50,000 car for Christmas. Have I made my point?
Trailers for Christmas movies. By the time I have watched each trailer 500 times on TV, I have had all I can take. Why go to a movie if you know the whole plot or heard all the best jokes?
But there are a series of commercials that air at the holidays every year that I actually look forward to. And watch with a smile on my face. The Clydesdales. Yup. They could run those commercials all year long and I'd never tire of them.
I'm not completely bah-humbugged if I can enjoy one or two commercials, right?