Sunday, Sunday

There was a time in my life when Sunday evenings were fraught with angst. The weekend so close to ending. A new school week or work week impending. Now, as a self-employed writer I have more ambiguous feelings about a Sunday evening. The angst is gone because my time belongs to me.

I write all through the week, taking breaks when I feel the need, and I often forget what day it is. If Studly Doright weren’t still employed full time I’d likely forget the days altogether.

Speaking of Studly Doright, he still has the Sunday evening angst. Two more years and he too can forget what day it is.

Where are you on the continuum? Still dreading Monday morning or blissfully unaware? The Mamas & The Papas had some thoughts on that.

https://youtu.be/h81Ojd3d2rY

Peace, people!

Thrift Shop Oddities

I reached a critical point in my sequel to Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort this morning. After I completed the scene I sat back and relished the feeling of a minor accomplishment. Of course when I reread the scene tomorrow I’m sure there’ll be alterations to be made, but the scene has been laid out and that’s huge.

A reward was in order. I took myself to lunch at Sweet Pea Cafe in Tallahassee then I stopped by a local thrift shop to see if they had anything interesting. And, wow! I was rewarded with several neat pieces. I didn’t buy anything, but I was tempted. See if you can figure out which item I almost brought back to Doright Manor.

Oh, deer…
Stacked elephants. Weird, but cool.
Is it a rooster. Is it a lamp? Yes!
A dining table and chair carved from cypress trees. Beautiful craftsmanship, but certainly odd.
A fish vase. Carp, anyone?
Flowers plus frogs = a fountain

Peace, people!

Nancy Drew Rides Again

My sequel to my debut novel, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort, is coming along nicely. I’m about 65,000 words in and the penultimate scene is staring me right in the face. I went to bed last night feeling pretty good about my efforts. Then around two a.m. I woke up thinking, It all feels a little Nancy Drewish at best or a grown up version of The Little Rascals at worst.

Somehow I managed to go back to sleep hoping my subconscious mind could find a solution. When Studly kissed me before he left for work around 5:30 I told him my early morning thoughts.

“Easy fix,” he said. “More cleavage. Cleavage in every scene.”

I laughed and laughed.

Later, at my typewriter: Paula leaned over the counter, treating Mark to a view of her well-defined cleavage. In his mind’s eye he replayed all the cleavage he’d ever been privileged to see. “In all my years I’ve never encountered cleavage as perfect as yours, Paula.”

Bolstered by his compliment, Paula exposed even more of her bosom. “Thank you. I do special cleavage-enhancing exercises.”

Mark smiled. “I apologize for ever confusing you with Nancy Drew. Her cleavage is nothing compared to yours.”

Paula winked. “I know. I sabotaged her efforts to have nice cleavage in the book, Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Missing Cleavage.

Of course I promptly deleted all that.

Today I shall attempt to fix my work in progress with little to no mention of cleavage.

Peace, people!

Looking for Love

Remember Johnny Lee’s hit song, “Looking for Love (in All the Wrong Places)” from the movie Urban Cowboy? https://youtu.be/FAyDmJvjxbg. I two-stepped a time or two to that song back in the day.

Now that I have a book on the market, I’ve found renewed interest in the song. Indie authors like me are always looking for love in the form of new readers and reviewers. I’d say it’s a hard knock life, but that would be an exaggeration and a whole different movie/song reference.

I find myself touting my book to everyone: my esthetician, my physical therapist, my gynecologist during my annual exam, the checkout person at the grocery store, random folks in line for their vaccinations at CVS, etc.

Occasionally my marketing strategy pays off and I’ll gain a new reader, but often I run the risk of being an annoyance. So far I’ve not been chased away with torches and pitchforks, but it could happen.

So, at the risk of annoying you, dear reader, I’m promoting my first novel, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08PDRH2Q9/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_glt_N8QPC4KEQNA1TTH8WD9Y

Please be gentle with me.

Peace, people.

The Cowboy (an inspirational poem, wink, wink)

While I don’t yet have a publication date set for my romance novel, The Cowboy and the Executive, I have been daydreaming about my male protagonist, Barton Young, quite a bit. He’s tall, tan, and I’m pretty sure he’d taste good.

My inspiration for Barton came from an encounter with a rodeo cowboy at a honky tonk in Amarillo, Texas, a few decades ago. We had but a single dance, but oh my! What a dance it was.

Here’s my bad poem about a good time. https://nananoyz5forme.com/2020/11/14/the-cowboy/

Barton, is that you?

Peace, and giddy up, people!

Adventures in Book Clubbing

On Saturday I celebrated a “first” (for me, anyway). Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort was the featured book for a Tallahassee book club meeting, and I was invited to say a few words and answer questions from those in attendance.

It was a virtual meeting, so there were no worries about masks or social distancing. But I did pour myself a glass of Merlot, because what’s a book club meeting without wine?

I was a bit nervous at first, but the experience was so much fun that I soon forgot about my nerves and just relaxed and enjoyed myself. The funniest thing was that some attendees knew my book as well as, and in one instance, slightly better than I did! That was humbling and a little scary. Now I need to reread Mayhem before any future book club adventures.

Peace, people!

Bummer

The threat of impending thunderstorms has resulted in the cancellation of many of the scheduled Word of South events; therefore, I shall not be hawking my book to festival attendees this weekend. Instead, I shall parade around Doright Manor speaking formally to the resident feline and to the gentleman with whom I sleep.

Thankfully, today’s virtual book club meeting should proceed as planned, unless lightning intervenes. What is the old Yiddish proverb? “We plan; God laughs.” Alas, ‘tis true.

Carry on, fellow travelers. Weep not for me, for the heavy skies have taken on that task in your stead.

May you have peace, good people.

Author Stuff

I’m looking forward to a fun weekend of doing author stuff. On Saturday, I’m attending a virtual book club meeting hosted by the Tallahassee Women’s Social Meetup group. Guess whose book they’re discussing? Mine!

Yes, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort will be the topic of discussion, and I’m pretty excited. Just keep your fingers crossed that I don’t say something so stupid that everyone in attendance will want to immediately burn their copies and dance around the bonfire.

Then on Sunday I’m working a table at the annual Word of South festival in Tallahassee along with other members of the Tallahassee Writer’s Association. The festival snuck up on me this year and I didn’t get my tickets before they sold out, but at least I can be part of the fun and maybe let folks know about my book. By nature, I’m not a joiner, so again, please send me some good vibes as I embark on this adventure.

Peace, people!

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

If anyone ever writes my biography they should use the title “A Day Late and A Dollar Short.” Truly everything I’ve ever done has been “assbackwards” to use my mother’s terminology.

Case in point: I published my book, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort, on Amazon on November 30, 2020, but it didn’t occur to me to create an author page on Facebook until March, and now it’s April and I finally realized I probably need an author page on Amazon, as well. Every other author I know created both prior to publishing,

At any rate, here’s the link to my Amazon page. I should have called it “About Damned Time.”: https://www.amazon.com/Leslie-Noyes/e/B091S7J61W?ref_=dbs_p_ebk_w0m_abau_000000&fbclid=IwAR3gbyRG0Iq0CmkaGdIfmQ_agxWBIzz3NsKAcg-tM3mghjtUqs_L-JLEHoY

It’s nothing fancy—mostly because I only vaguely understood what it was I was supposed to do. Honestly, I need a minder to hold my hand and guide me through every minute of every day.

Or a genie! That’d work.

This lamp sells for around $25.00 on Walmart.com. Genie optional.

Peace, people.