Lock him up. Tro da book at him. It’s curtains for da crook.
You think I’m going to write about some corrupt politician, don’t you? But, actually…
It’s game show
Okay, so he’s there behind Curtain One:
The bad man: slimy, sleezy, liar, cheat, woman-handler, disgusting, corrupt, bank-rolling his pockets at our expense. We’re hoping the curtain will come down on him—the sooner, the better. I won’t name names, or include photos, you get to decide who it is.
Behind Curtain Two:
Me (in the trailer at the farm John and his brothers inherited in Wisconsin) sewing curtains last week. I used to like sewing. Quilts. Clothes. Years ago John even made me a sewing table with perfect drawers for all the treads and pins and stuff.
But sewing’s not my favorite thing anymore. My back hurts. Curtains are especially dull—seams up two sides, two seams at the top for the rod to go through, and a hem seam. And ironing between each seam. Seams boring to me.
Two panels per window. Four little windows. Two long windows at the front and back.
A big curtain to pull closed at the napping/changing end of the trailer. Thirteen panels altogether.
But now it’s done! Yay!
And really the trailer is looking wonderful since John and his brothers, Walt and Herb, gutted it and de-moused it and re-outfitted the inside last fall. It’s wonderful. I can’t wait to sit in there and work on the next novel. Writing doesn’t give me a backache.
Last week, while I was in the trailer sewing, the Bogner brothers built a deck between the old trailer (1949 Nassau—the writing trailer), and the new contractors trailer (1969 there abouts). The place was buzzing with activity—saws, nail guns, and sewing machine.
Behind Curtain Three:
Curtains going up. Life’s a stage. When I was a little girl, my great grandmother, two great uncles and two great aunts lived in a flat on Stanley Street in Detroit. Since my great grandmother was in her nineties and frail, they’d turned the dining room into a bedroom for her and my great aunt Betty. Of course there was a curtain (dark green and heavy) between the dining/bedroom and the living room. Supposedly for privacy, but actually my stage curtain. Me—seven or eight, the great entertainer, popping through that curtain and singing, dancing and telling jokes to amuse my elders.
I like entertaining.
Curtains going up!
A couple weeks ago I was a guest at my friend Nicky DeYonker’s book club. Eleven women were there and they all had read my novel, “A Bird in the House.” It was great fun for me (I hope for them too). It’s really fun sharing with people who’ve read the book. The women were all friendly and smart, with interesting questions and insights (some that hadn’t crossed my mind) about the book. One even wrote a very nice review on Amazon. Thank you, Linda Borowski! And also, a huge thank you to Nicky for sharing her friends with me (she also wrote a lovely review!)
So, Hey, if you have a book club and would like a writer to visit your group, I’m available and free, although your readers would need to buy the book (paperback and Kindle versions are on Amazon.)
Which curtain do I pick?
All of the above.