UNGRATEFUL DUCKS

On our way back from the pool yesterday, we saw ducks on our end of the lagoon. Two drakes and a little hen.  They usually keep to the other end of the complex so I was excited. I went inside, got some bread and hurried back out.

The silly things looked at me and went back to picking off bugs or whatever it is they do when they bite at themselves. Finally the little hen waddled into the water and ate one or two bites. Very unenthusiastically.

A neighbor came by and noticed. "They must have eaten already."

"What, do they come up this way often?"

"Oh yes. I feed them every day."

Fine. I guess I'll save my bread for the turtles. They at least plunge into the water and swim as fast as they can for the bits I throw in. I prefer animals that are grateful for the handouts.

OLD SONGS

I guess because there are so many older and retired people living on the island, the radio station here plays old songs. Not just golden oldies from the 70s, 80s or 90s. I'm talking about from the 20s-30s on up.

"Over the Rainbow," "Begin the Beguine," "Stardust," "Java Jive," "Rum and Coca Cola," "Sentimental Journey," "Blueberry Hill," "A Kiss to Build a Dream On," "Brokenhearted Melody," and the list goes on and on.

I love them all! And since my WIP is set fifty years ago, listening to it helps set the mood.

And they do slip in some classical stuff occasionally, but that's okay. I like it, too!

EREADERS

eBooks are the fastest growing segment of the book market according to several sources. People can download them to their computers, to their eReaders like Kindle and Nook, and even to iPhones. I'm waiting for the software to shake out before I buy one, but I'm looking forward to one day getting one.

But at the pool this afternoon, I noticed several people reading. Hardbacks and paperbacks. No Kindles or other eReaders in sight.

I bet water ruins an eReader device. So seems like there'll always be a market for regular books. Even if it's confined to people who read in the bathtub and by pools.

Rejection

I got rejected again yesterday.

This rejection was for a manuscript I really loved but the agent didn't and I understand. She loved my humorous mystery and tried really hard to sell it, but can't feel the same about this one.

So now I'm going to have to find an agent who loves this one as much as I do. You'd think as many rejections as I've had, another one wouldn't hit me so hard. But the last one is as bad as the first.

My sweet fellow took me out to dinner and stopped by the candy shop for fudge.

I gave myself a pep talk at bedtime. Today I'm back at work. Guess if you write, that's what you do.

Hemingway's Reputation

I don't care for Ernest Hemingway. I always figured he wrote for men, and that his reputation came from the male reviewers of the day.

Then yesterday, my critique partner Nan D. Arnold gave me a different perspective. During a time of popular authors like Thomas Hardy, Henry James, John Steinbeck, Somerset Maugham, and William Faulkner, Hemingway must have been a breath of fresh air.

No long convoluted sentences, no pages of description, no in-depth character studies. Just simple blunt prose with characters speaking for themselves.

Doesn't make me like his writing any better though.

Trees

On our walk this morning, we saw the dog trainer walking her trainee by the cedar tree and kids playing in the huge live oaks. The cedar is probably the most photographed tree on the island but the live oaks give it character.

There must be some basic instinct that makes us gravitate to trees. They offer entertainment, protection, shelter, comfort. No wonder the druids and other sects worshiped them.

I think I could take off my clothes and paint myself blue without too much encouragement.

Broken Plumbing

I flushed the john today and the contents barely went down. I took off the top and the water coming into the tank was like, dripping. The guy who lives with me was off shooting photos but I did not panic. We have another bathroom.

When my guy came in, I pointed out the empty tank and wrung my hands. Mostly because I just knew he would insist on fixing it which usually entails cursing and running out for extra parts and taking hours or days.

He said, "Call the plumber." I wanted to kiss him.

I called. The plumber showed up in two hours, spent fifteen minutes with us, and left fifty-two dollars richer.

My john works now. I love living in a place where plumbers don't wait two weeks to show up! I think even my husband is learning to be laid back like the other islanders.