A few things on my mind. First and foremost, my awesome husband finished the Ironman in Penticton today. It’s been 21 years since he last did the race, and here he is, looking none the worse for wear, in this photo which was taken at 10:39 of a 10:49 race. (Yes, that would be hours:minutes.)

 After much discussion, we decided that it would be best for me to stay home with our youngest son, and for Ron and our older son to go to the race. A tough call, but that’s how it shook out. In any case, Twitter, and my brother in law, saved the day, with photos and updates every hour.

Now that the day is over, I hope I’m done with Twitter forever. It’s just too fleeting, too fluttery, too twitt-y for me. It moves too fast. I can’t figure out what people are talking about. Or why. Why aren’t they reading a book, or having a conversation with someone in the room with them, or enjoying a few quiet, twit-free moments?

 Except now I know how useful it can be. Plus, I have two followers already. Shouldn’t I tell them what’s happening?

Keeping with my ludite ways, I also decided this week not to get a smart phone. Nope. Sticking with my dumb phone, thank you very much. Admittedly the Bell salesman was very convincing. I thought about it for a whole week.  I was especially taken with the touch keyboard. Get this – you just slide your finger from letter to letter and it gives you a drop-down list of possible words. Amazing, don’t you think? Except, I’m a writer. Writing down words is what I do. If this technology goes much further, I’ll become obsolete. It was a dank and starry night. No! It wasn’t! That’s not what I meant!

As much as Facebook and blogging and the little piplups of “you’ve got mail!” do interrupt my work, I still somehow manage to preserve periods of time where I can string thoughts together without interruption. Long-chain thoughts, like deep breaths, are vital to what I do. Not only for fiction writing, but for my freelance contract work as well. Really, it’s where I add value to the organizations that I work for. They hire me to  write for them, not because the people within the organization aren’t able to do it. But because they don’t have the big chunks of focused time that make that kind of work possible. See, they all have smart phones. I rest my case.

Well, thanks Twitter, for bringing me and my Ironguy closer together. And bye-bye. At least, until next time.

Harriet Walter as Harriet Vane in the 1987 BBC adaptation of the Peter Wimsey series

Do you remember Harriet Vane? She was Lord Peter Wimsey’s love interest. A crime fiction writer who was always tripping over corpses. Do you remember the time she was on the beach – Brighton or some such place – writing a chapter in her little notebook, when a corpse washed up on shore?

 Harriet Vane was on my mind this morning as I gave testimony at a pre-trial hearing for murder. No, I’m not testing out a plot line – or a punch line. Fifteen months ago I was out for a hike, and stumbled across a dead body.

After today, there a some things I won’t have to imagine as I scribble out my crime novels. I know that an accused muderer can look like a guy you’d see buying pepperoni sticks at the 7-11. I know that homicide detectives really are snazzy dressers. I know that you don’t have to swear on a Bible anymore – if you don’t want to. You can just promise, with your hand in the air, that you won’t tell any lies. I can tell you that the transcript of a witness statement does not read at all like dialogue. And that there is a baby brother out there who will never, ever forget his murdered older brother.

Not like in the books at all.

Quickly ducked into the library yesterday. My mission: borrow the complete works of Denise Mina. An impressive pile of books. Got through the check out with no alarms. This is good, because the last time I tried to borrow books I was cut off – too many books out on your card ma’am was their story.

Got home, dove in.

Only to discover that I have already read the complete works of Denise Mina.

Don’t you hate when that happens?

Don’t you just love when you discover a new to you wonderful writer? And then find out that they’ve written a whole bunch of books that you haven’t read yet?

I’ll be busy all week and weekend reading Denise Mina. Heaven!

I’m back from my holiday. The hammock was great, thanks for asking. I made a satisfying dent in the reading pile and some of the books were first novels. Great, impressive, page-turning first novels. But I am finding myself uninspired to write about them right now.

Maybe it’s the heat. But I’m wondering if it’s just time for a change. I’ve been reading first novels almost exclusively for over three years, and blogging about them for close to a full year. And here I am working on my second novel. Maybe first novel energy is not what I need right now.

One thing I know for sure – I won’t make this a blog about second novels. That would just be too predictable. And dreary.  In case you hadn’t noticed, many second novels are, sorry to say, not an author’s best. (I said MANY second novels. Not yours. And not mine of course.)

So, for the time being, I am taking a zen approach. I am blogger, not blogging. Noticing not blogging. Inspiration will come. And if you have any suggestions for the future direction of this blog, please share them!