Plot Place: Motel Musings

Pulled into the Bent Tree Motel parking lot July 3rd. It looked clean and respectable. Pavement sizzled underfoot. No bars on the windows or empty broken beer bottles at our doorstep. No neon signs flickered, nor did any nefarious characters hover in the shadows. (Chances of a noir novel are fading fast.)

We were as incognito as you can get in a cherry red Dodge Ram rental truck.

Room 122. Door wasn't kicked in. Shades were even, without dust or residue. Bright bluish green carpet showed fresh vacuum tracks. There were no cigarette butts in the trash and no sign of a lipstick stained glass on the counter. The television displayed ESPN and the phone had a dial tone. C'mon, I need something to work with here - a trace of blood, a phone number written on a torn business card.

At least the window unit airconditioner lent a hum of despair. Could it keep cranking against 100 plus temperatures?

If we were on a stakeout at this motel, we could run next door for some greasy chicken. At least this offered local flavor versus the Dairy Queen or Arby's further up the block.

As night fell, the insects buzzed, an occasional firecracker popped and we jumped. A car backfired in the distance. Footsteps approached and we held our breath, but they trod to the next room. A key rattled, the door creaked open, and

a gunshot reverberated. We heard a cry and then silence .....

maybe I do have something to work with here. Nothing like a non-chain motel stay to fire the imagination.

Country Fourth

Happy July 4th weekend. This blog post is a rambling salute to freedom and an appreciation of America and her history.

Ray and I accomplished a few chores, floated in the pool, watched movies, and achieved laziness. All the while we contemplated gratitude to our Founding Fathers for sweating out the Declaration of Independence at Constitution Hall in 1776 Philadelphia.

Late Sunday afternoon, July 3rd, we headed east to Emory. Ray's cousin Margaret hosts a fabulous fireworks display and party and we were invited. The sunset first lit up the sky. An hors d'oevre to the main show.


My camera skill does not do justice to the pyrotechnic display. Close to an hour's worth of trailer loads of fireworks banged overhead. At least twelve guys choreographed the show - set, light, and run. Patriotic music swelled. It was impressive.

Ka-boom!

Morning - July 4th. Up bright and early, I stepped outside and laughed at my long-legged shadow.

Flags fly everywhere on the 4th of July. One adorned this mower.

None who have always been free can understand the terrible fascinating power of the hope of freedom to those who are not free - Pearl S. Buck

Happy 4th of July!

Book Review: Hunger Games

I am late to the game on reading The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. It's first in a trilogy and the movie is being filmed with Jennifer Lawrence (awesome young actress) cast as Katniss. As a YA (young adult) book, it was not on my radar. However, as a movie fan, it caught my eye and I wanted to read it prior to the movie.

Well, I am hooked and shall be looking for parts 2 and 3 at Half Price Books. (Is that heresy? I'm a poor struggling writer. I did pay sale price at Amazon for this book). Set in the future, the United States is now arranged in Districts and District 12 is extremely poor coal mining country. Every year, two kids are chosen from each district to participate in "games" that lead to death. At a certain age, names are entered into the drawing and for each year plus for extra food points taken, each name can be listed multiple times.

However, this particular year for District 12, it's the first time for Prim, a child. Her sister, Katniss quickly volunteers in her place. Good move. This enterprising young lady can hunt, is athletic, and ultimately is a player. The other pick is Peeta, the baker's son, who claims to have loved Katniss since grade school. Words, actions, and the heat of the moment - wow, talk about tension.

So many twists and turns to The Hunger Games. The dystopian society proves interesting. Katniss is a heroine for the ages. Suzanne Collins' writing is clean and crisp. She creates a memorable world and characters. Her pacing is amazing and I'm hooked. With crisp dialogue and stunning visuals, the film will pack a punch.

I can see how this became so popular with younger readers and I'm happy to recommend this book for teens and adults alike. It's tight, clean, and exciting. The Hunger Games is only the beginning. Read it to find out who lives and dies, and what happens next.

Movie Review: Midnight in Paris

Midnight in Paris is a pleasant talkie film. By that, I mean the characters meander the streets of Paris conversing. Nothing blows up (well, maybe a relationship or two), no one is killed, and at the end of the ninety minutes, you realize you want to sit in a cafe, drink some wine, and watch the world go by. Owen Wilson plays Gil, a successful Hollywood screenwriter. He's working on a book and wants to chuck the L.A. scene to live in Paris. He romanticizes the 1920s when so many American artists lived abroad. His fiancee, played by Rachel McAdams, thinks he's crazy. On this trip with her parents, he's the outsider.

Owen shambles along in his low key charming way and slowly realizes the engagment is all wrong. Every midnight, he strolls a certain cobblestone street and the atmosphere transforms into the 20s. He meets F.Scott Fitzgerald and wife Zelda, Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, Cole Porter, et al - they are all living the bohemian dream. He falls for a French girl, played by the lovely Marion Cotillard. She the latest muse of Pablo Picasso, but she and Gil light a spark.

They discuss the times. He rhapsodizes over the 1920s, and she shrugs it off as boring. She desires to visit La Belle Epoque. Gil's time travel skill allows them to visit that era, and that's where she wants to remain. Alas, Gil's heartbreak and return to current day living does give him the oomph to say, "I'm giving Paris a try, and I'm finishing my book." (aaah, any writer's dream)

All in all, Midnight in Paris has snappy dialogue (written and directed by Woody Allen) and it is a writer/artist movie. Lots of fun meeting famous people before they really became famous. Owen Wilson's manner has us believe and enjoy his adventure. It's also amusing to witness Rachel McAdams play a total snot. You root for Owen to recognize her shallowness.

Say bonjour, buy your ticket, and fall in love with Paris via this film.

Musical Review: Billy Elliott

I'm late to seeing Billy Elliott: The Musical, but better late than never. I enjoyed the movie version immensely and wondered how it would translate to theater. It worked better than I expected and, of course, the dancing was phenomenal.

British Mineworkers went on strike in 1984 and it lasted one year. Margaret Thatcher held firm and broke the unions. Happy story, huh?

We meet Billy's family on the eve of the strike. His mother is dead. His father and older brother are coal miners - dedicated to the job and the union. Poor Billy is an eleven year-old kid, floundering in life, missing his mom, helping his doddering grandmother, and yearning to break free from his life. He just doesn't know how.

He attends boxing lessons, but doesn't want to hit or be hit. Fortunately, after boxing lessons the space is occupied by ballet lessons. He joins in by happenstance, likes it, worries over his young manhood, but can't shake the joy that ballet gives him - the freedom to express himself. The teacher (Faith Prince, an old Broadway veteran) sees a spark in Billy. He has a chance to escape this bleak town and future and perhaps audition for the National Ballet Company.

Naturally there's a lot of angst, issues, and ultimate (strikers, family, teacher) confrontation. Fortunately, the dances flow, the singing is decent, and Elton John's music with Lee Hall's book and lyrics, is pleasant. Billy Elliott's message of finding yourself, expressing yourself, and looking to the future is an inspiring one.

Review: A Red Herring Without Mustard

Flavia de Luce is back in A Red Herring Without Mustard, and she has reason to heat up the Bunsen burners in her laboratory. A precocious eleven year-old sleuth, she has her fortune told by a gypsy at a local fair in Bishop's Lacey. Hours later, she finds the woman bludgeoned, barely alive, but perhaps part of an old child abduction scandal. For a wee town, there's a lot smoldering under the surface.

A local ne'er do well, Brookie Harewood is found dead, hanging from the Poseidon statue on de Luce property. Any connection to the gypsy? The Inspector is not pleased at the multiple trips needed to contain Flavia, recover evidence, and put together pieces of the puzzle. All the while, our young lady is two steps ahead of him and outwitting her older mean sisters, too.

From the back cover - As the red herrings pile up, Flavia must sort through clues fishy and foul to untangle dark deeds and dangerous secrets.

Alan Bradley introduced us to Flavia in The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. He has a winning heroine, an enchanting writing style, tricky clues, and an exciting page turner. He's imbued Flavia with a wicked sense of humor and you'll enjoy her exasperation at life in Bishop's Lacey. Even under house arrest, it is hard to contain this delightfully dark yet winning young lady.

I highly recommend A Red Herring Without Mustard. It is a superbly entertaining summer brain twister.

Self Discipline

Whining. A lot. We're on day fifty of over 100 degrees. Oh, I exaggerate. It only seems like fifty days, but it's been at least a week. We (Texas - DFW area) start our morning headed to work and it's 80 degrees. Step outside in the evening for a "breath of fresh air" and the hot hair dryer effect is wicked. It's 90 after 9 pm and it's only June.

I use the heat as an excuse for everything. Too hot to mow. Too hot to go to the grocery store. I flop on the couch and swoon. I float in the pool, but then worry about skin cancer even after slathering myself in sunscreen number 45 - practically using a spatula to apply it.

Traffic's been awful and by the time I get home I'm not in the mood to face the computer to write. Bad, Joanne. This is usually an August state of mind, not June, and I must overcome this slothful attitude.

What it lies in our power to do, it lies in our power not to do - Aristotle He must have spent some time in Texas heat.

Right discipline consists, not in external compulsion, but in habits of mind which lead spontaneously to desirable rather than undesirable activities - Bertrand Russell

I feel better having written this post. This is creation. I can accomplish more. Crank the air conditioner down another degree and heat up the keyboard. Self-discipline is my mantra.