Writing

Search Engine Junkie

/ Diane Henders / 68 Comments

I love hearing from my fans, and a recent letter asked whether the facts in my books came from my personal experience, and/or how much research I generally do. That gave me a rueful giggle, because it revealed yet another variety of my kryptonite.

First the short answers: ‘Mostly’; and ‘Lots’.

The auto-mechanic and home-renovation details come from hands-on experience, and Aydan’s wild motorcycle ride in Book 2 commemorates a few butt-puckering moments from riding an unfamiliar bike many years ago. The fight scenes are loosely based on real life, but they’re exaggerated all to hell (and I’ve been luckier than Aydan with my outcomes).

I love shooting, but I only kill paper targets. Art and food and music and computer-geekery are big parts of my life, too. Aydan’s athletic exploits have been adapted from my various adventures, particularly the falling-on-my-butt parts. (No comment on her other ‘adventures’ – that would give a whole new meaning to ‘hands-on experience’.) 😉

But the rest of it? The internet is my best friend and worst addiction – I research everything down to the tiniest detail.  Just for laughs, here are about half of my search phrases from the last 7 days:

  • Slang for senior citizens1
  • Do bees defecate2
  • Muhammad Ali
  • Can a laser burn through glass or mirror3
  • Infrared frequency ranges
  • What does your favourite flavour of ice cream say about your personality4
  • Xylophone
  • Bohemian waxwing
  • Festival of Lights Diwali
  • Elements associated with zodiac signs
  • Extranet
  • Female fertility
  • Jack Paar
  • Sarongs
  • Kitten heels
  • Batik
  • Dwarf hardy hibiscus
  • Plural possessive form of elk5
  • Particle physics hadron
  • Is physics plural6
  • Do bears hunt at night7
  • How long after death can a cadaver dog find a body8
  • How long before decomposition starts9
  • Most common size of men’s shoes10
  • Plural of penis11
  • Baboon red bottom
  • Pheromones
  • Crowd control weapons
  • Flies sense of smell
  • Military slang Afghanistan
  • Surgery to replace missing fingers with toes
  • Do bears vomit12
  • Customs brokerage
  • Do people have unique electromagnetic fields13
  • Can getting hit in the testicles cause infertility14
  • Which substances are transparent to infrared
  • Walking with blade prosthetic legs
  • Hipster slang
  • Braking system on a Smart car
  • Lasers
  • Masers
  • DNA sequencing

For those of you who are speculating: Yes, it’s all related to Book 11, but don’t try to put it all together – I also use research to help me exclude ideas. (So don’t worry; none of the male characters are about to suffer a vicious blow to the nuts.)

And, because I know some of these search questions will stick like a brain-burr until you know the answers, here you go:

  1. Gerries seems to be the current favourite (short for geriatrics), but geezers is still a top choice.
  2. Yes, but they never dump inside the hive – they go on ‘cleansing flights’. If the weather has kept them inside for too long, it’s more like a strafing run with scatter bombs.
  3. Yes, but if you had a cutting laser and a perfect reflection you’d be in trouble.
  4. You’ll have to read Book 11 to find out.
  5. Both elk’s and elks’ are acceptable.
  6. Yes and no. It’s complicated. Kinda like physics.
  7. Bears hunt anytime.
  8. Cadaver dogs can even find bare bones.
  9. Immediately, but the stinky phase starts anywhere from a few hours to a few days after death, depending on the heat and humidity of the environment.
  10. 10. No, seriously; ten is the most common men’s shoe size.
  11. Both penises and penii are acceptable. (And that sentence just begs for a dirty joke.)
  12. Yes, but rats, rabbits, guinea pigs, horses, and Japanese quail can’t vomit.
  13. Unproven by science, but aura-readers say they can see the electromagnetic fields.
  14. Yes, but it’s unlikely unless you suffer a complication like internal bleeding or torsion.

What oddball questions have you researched lately?

A Very Vampire Solstice-mas

/ Diane Henders / 53 Comments

Woohoo! We’ve made it past the shortest day! I always feel better when we’re on the upswing and I know I’ll be getting more light every day. (As opposed to ‘getting lighter’, which I definitely won’t be doing unless I stop devouring Christmas goodies.)

The darkness of winter doesn’t bother Hubby, but then again, he’s basically a vampire – he’s just beginning to hit his stride around 10 PM every night.  And he loathes garlic. (I haven’t dared to try holy water on him.)

I’d never make it as a vampire – I love daylight far too much. Though, come to think of it, I burn to a crisp in ten minutes or less when exposed to direct sunshine, so I actually may be part vampire. Hmmm…

Anyway, at least the snow brightens everything up and makes the most of the little daylight we have, and we light up the night as much as we can. This video pretty much describes us for the entire month of December.

Okay, we’re not quite that over-the-top – for one thing, our LED lights just aren’t that bright. But they make up for it with the splendour of quantity, since we can now power all 5000+ bulbs off one 20-amp breaker. And hey, at least the City of Calgary doesn’t have to switch over to nuclear backup when we turn them on.

I realize that solstice, Christmas, and blood-sucking soulless creatures aren’t usually combined in the same post, but this is what happens when I get a massive shortbread overdose. And it’s actually not too much of a stretch when you think about it. I’m sure we’ve all been at an office party where we’ve looked around at our blood-sucking soulless co-workers and shuddered.

And now that I’ve made the mental connection, I just can’t get this thought out of my mind:

vampire christmas

I figure one’s social skills would get pretty rusty if one spent all one’s time locked away from the rest of humanity, absorbed in one’s own nefarious schemes…

Wait, why are you looking at me like that? I’m talking about the vampires, not myself. I swear I’ve never fanged an eggnog carton… Okay, once; but there were mitigating circumstances.

Oh, and here’s another digression (what was in that shortbread?!?): Eggnog makes me laugh.  Yes, it’s full of creamy spicy goodness and, if you’re lucky, enough Christmas spirits to make anyone laugh; but here in Canada all products have to be labelled in both our official languages.  So one side of the carton says ‘Eggnog’ and the other says ‘Lait de poule’, which is the French version.  The literal translation is ‘milk of hen’.  Chicken milk. *giggles childishly*

As you can undoubtedly tell, I need a vacation (or possibly an intervention, but those are harder to arrange). So next week I’m giving myself the gift of some uninterrupted writing time on Book 11 – woohoo all over again! My next post will be on January 6, so I’ll look forward to ‘talking’ to you then.

Meanwhile, Hubby and I would like to send our very best wishes to everyone:

Joy to those who celebrate; comfort to those who mourn; and peace and abundance to all, now and in the New Year.

xmas tree

If you celebrate Christmas, we wish you a very merry one!

* * *

P.S. Another cause for ‘woohoo-ing’: I’ve finally finished my cover updates! Here’s the last one:

It’s A Dilemma…

/ Diane Henders / 85 Comments

Sometimes I struggle with a bit of a dilemma. I’m not good at interpreting the subtleties of social interactions, so I’m never quite sure whether people are genuinely glad to see me or just being polite. It doesn’t help that I live in Canada, where we’re polite to even idiots and assholes. I never know which of those I am.

That makes reconnecting with long-lost acquaintances an iffy proposition. Any time I send out a friend request or a ‘let’s keep in touch’ note, I’m reminded of the old saying: “The ones you hope you’ll never hear from again are the ones who never lose your number.”

I was thinking of that the other day while I was writing the letter to go in our Christmas cards. Normal people probably don’t worry about stuff like this, but ever since I became a writer I’ve been cautious about mentioning my career. I never know how people will react.

When I was an interior designer (*shudders*) or a draftsperson or a computer geek, people outside my profession usually responded one of two ways when I told them what I did for a living: They either nodded and changed the subject to something that actually interested them, or they pounced on me and tried to get free services.

But when I say I’m a fiction writer, the reactions are alarmingly varied. I still get “Ho-hum; well, how about that weather we’re having?” That’s okay.

The ‘pounce’ reaction translates to “Hey, I have a great idea for a novel! I’ll give you a ten-second snapshot of my idea, and you can spend the next six solid months sweating blood while you plan it, write it, edit it, proof it, and publish it; and then we can share the profits 50/50!”

Um… no.

It’s the third type of reaction that makes me reticent about dropping the ‘writer’ bombshell: Their eyes dilate and they break out in a fine dew of perspiration while they back away in squeamish embarrassment as though they’d just caught me smiling and humming with my hand down my pants.

Or worse, their eyes dilate and they start sweating, but they’re coming at me as if they’re hoping I’ll start smiling and humming with my hand down my pants. Then they whisper, “Do you write porn?”

It’s a fair question; it’s just that sweaty wide-eyed people with no sense of personal space really creep me out…

Anyhow, back to the Christmas cards. This year I decided to reconnect with my Grade 12 English teacher. He was a very cool guy back in 1982, and I’ve always wondered how things turned out for him. I also owe him a debt of gratitude for convincing me that English class wasn’t a dead loss, and for having the courage to share his love for poetry with a bunch of hormone-ridden country-bumpkin teenagers.

So I sent him a card, and when he graciously responded I wrote him an email thanking him for laying the groundwork for my writing career.  It should’ve been a pleasant, stress-free interaction, right?

But all the while, I was visualizing this:

everything I know

(That wasn’t how he reacted… Or maybe he was just too polite to show it…  You see my dilemma?)

P.S. Thanks, Mr. C. You’re still a very cool guy!

Bouchercon Special: Free E-books

/ Diane Henders / 28 Comments

I’m honoured to have been one of the mystery/crime/thriller authors selected to promote Smashwords at Bouchercon 2015, the world mystery convention being held this weekend in Raleigh, NC.

Never Say Spy (Book 1) and The Spy Is Cast (Book 2) were included on the Smashwords USB drive given to all Bouchercon attendees.

North Carolina is a helluva long trip for most people, though, so I’m making both e-books free to everyone this weekend.  (Never Say Spy is free through all retailers, but The Spy Is Cast freebie is only available through Smashwords.)

Get the freebies from Smashwords here:

Never Say Spy (Book 1):  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/96058

The Spy Is Cast (Book 2):  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/100014 (Enter coupon code NH25H and click the ‘Apply Coupon’ button when you check out.  The price will reset to $0.00.)

Note:  This series contains coarse language and adult content.

This deal ends tomorrow (Sunday, October 11, 2015) so please spread the word.  Thanks!

 

It’s A Fine Line…

/ Diane Henders / 43 Comments

People often ask me about my creative process, so I thought it might be helpful to provide an illustration of the exact process that went into creating last week’s post.  Voilà:  My Creative Process.

P.S. We have a release date for Book 10,  Spy Away Home:  September 4, 2015!  I tried really hard for August, but it just wasn’t to be.  Pre-orders should be available at all distributors within the next few days (Amazon and Smashwords are already up).  If you’ve signed up on the new-release notification list, you’ll get an email when all the pre-orders are up, and again when the book is available.

P.P.S.  I’m on the road today, so I won’t be able to respond to comments until this evening.  ‘Talk’ to you then!

 

The Scariest Word: ‘Oops!’

/ Diane Henders / 41 Comments

A couple of weeks ago I was scooping ice cream out of a one-gallon pail when my hand slipped and a gob of ice cream hurtled across the kitchen to land on the floor. Not surprisingly, I yelped, “Whoa! Shit!”

Hubby looked over at the scene of the crime and said, “You know, ‘shit’ is one of those words you just never want to hear coming from the kitchen.”

That’s very true.  But after considering it for a while, I think ‘oops!’ is probably the scariest word on the planet. For instance, here are just a few of the times and places you really, really don’t want to hear anybody say ‘Oops’:

  • In the hairdresser’s chair
  • In the operating room
  • At the accountant’s office
  • At the lawyer’s office
  • Any time condoms or birth control pills are involved
  • In answer to the question, “You remember I’m allergic to (fill in the blank), right?”
  • When checking in for a flight/hotel/rental car
  • At the bank
  • In the dentist’s chair

The list (and the potential for scary situations) is virtually endless, but if you’re lucky ‘oops’ isn’t always disastrous.  I emitted a benign ‘oops’ a few days later. It was quickly followed by a facepalm, but it made me laugh because it was such a quintessentially Canadian mistake. Here’s what happened:

It’s been an unseasonably hot summer here in Calgary, and Hubby and I were driving to our garden outside the city. We had a plastic gas-can in the trunk to fuel the rototiller, and the fumes were strong (we discovered later the can was leaking, but that’s another story).

Anyway, I rolled the window down.

After a few miles, I thought to myself, “Why is it getting so warm in here?”

Uh, DUH! *facepalm*

It’s hot outside. You’re letting the air conditioning out and the hot air in, dummy.

You can tell I’m from Canada, where we always expect it to be colder outside than inside.

* * *

But that’s enough about words you don’t want to hear. Here are some words you do want to hear (at least those of you who are waiting for Book 10 to come out):

The beta readers are hard at work and I’m well into my first round of edits.  And… We have a cover and blurb!  (These aren’t finalized, so if you spot any ‘oopses’, please let me know.)

Bookkeeper-turned-secret-agent Aydan Kelly has barely begun to relax after her last mission when a shotgun-wielding man kicks in the front door of her country home. She doesn’t recognize the would-be assassin, so who hired him and why?

As evidence mounts against her abrasive co-worker, Aydan begins a deadly game of cat and mouse with herself as bait. If her suspicions are correct, the Department’s security has been breached and no one is safe.

With the lives of her dearest friends at risk as well as her own, Aydan must stop her unknown enemy before the next assassin succeeds.

More good news: I can now set up pre-orders, and all retailers will release the book on the same day. Pre-orders for Spy Away Home should be active in another couple of weeks (if you’ve signed up on my New Release mailing list, you’ll get an email when the pre-order pages go live), and it looks as though the final release date will be at the end of August. I’ll keep you posted with more details as I get them confirmed.

If you’d like to have a say in which day Spy Away Home gets released, please vote in the poll below.  Thanks for your help!

A Clean Post

/ Diane Henders / 54 Comments

As my blogging buddy Sue Slaght pointed out last week, you know you’ve hit the big time when one of your blog posts gets banned. Apparently WordPress flagged last week’s post as ‘likely inappropriate’ and blocked it from their Reader application.

Well, dang. Who knew they’d object to a post containing the words p*rn, s*x, scr*tum, sy*hilis, and n*ked? They were obviously okay with allowing the original p*rn commenter to solicit me on my guest book. And I’ve done two other posts with the word n*ked in the title, so it couldn’t be that. The previous week’s post containing ‘s*x’, ‘sy*hilis’, and ‘scr*tum’ got through okay…

Wait; maybe ‘werew*lf’ was the offending word!

I got a belly-laugh out of the whole thing, partly because their tag perfectly fit my blog compilation series. Maybe I should name the upcoming book ‘Likely Inappropriate’ in homage to WordPress’s delicate sensibilities.

The funniest part was that last week’s post was actually one of the cleaner ones I’ve written. I mean, really; I was talking about spam and search terms.  I didn’t even tell any dirty jokes. Jeez.

But I’ve learned my lesson, honest. So this week I’ve written an innocent post full of valuable writing advice. No dirty words at all. This one’s for you, WordPress:

Cleaning Up Your Post

The relationship between blogger and reader is an intimate one, and it’s important to gain your readers’ trust by keeping your post clean. Here’s how:

First, strip away the superfluous trappings to lay the post bare. Every post is different: some require rigorous scrubbing, but for others a light polishing is enough to raise them to their full potential. Some people use an automated process, but the hands-on approach is always more satisfying. Don’t be afraid to experiment. You’ll know you’re doing it right when the subject begins to firm up for you.

Work closely with a reader to identify subtle lingual nuances. Pay attention to how the post feels rolling off the lips and tongue. Savour the sensory experience, reading in multiple passes from top to bottom, then from bottom to top. This technique is important because critical points may be missed if you only go down.

By now your subject should be rock-solid, so it’s time to plunge deeply into the meat of the matter. Pay careful attention to rhythm and be sure you don’t deviate from the main thrust of your post. Any miscues at this point will be, at best, an unpleasant distraction for your reader; and at worst, a complete disaster resulting in messy fallout.

Slowly work toward the climax of your post. Don’t hurry. When the time is right you can switch to the hard-hitting style that will thrill your readers to the core.

After this you may discover that your post needs a bit more cleaning. That’s normal, but don’t be too heavy-handed. The best strategy is to let the post rest for a while before undertaking the final polishing. Then your magnificent post will be ready to fulfill all your readers’ needs!

Just remember: The extra time and effort you invest in this process will be worth it, ‘cause nobody likes a dirty post.

Thank you, WordPress, for reminding me how important it is to keep it clean!

* * *

Woohoo! The draft is finished for Book 10: Spy Away Home! Just a bit more polishing (sorry, couldn’t resist), and then it’s off to the beta readers.

Un/Lucky?

/ Diane Henders / 33 Comments

Last week I got together with four friends for our annual overnight in Banff, the most beautiful tourist trap in the Canadian Rockies. We had a great time as always… but I couldn’t decide whether my luck was good or bad.

I was still fighting this rotten cold, so that was bad luck. But I’m certainly lucky to have friends who like me enough to put up with me even when I’m diseased!

At the Douglas Fir Resort, we checked into our giant 3-bedroom, 5-bed suite. For a while we sat on our balcony with drinks, enjoying the spectacular mountain view. Then, since I was likely to wake everybody by coughing up a lung in the middle of the night, I moved into one of the private queen rooms with an ensuite bathroom.

Lucky, right? Well, yes… until I realized there was no window, only a skylight. Not so lucky if you’re claustrophobic. I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that the first thing I did was clamber up on the vanity to see if the skylight would open.

Nope. Bolted shut.

I comforted myself with the thought that if I was sufficiently motivated (say, by flames licking up the crack of my ass), I could smash the glass with the wrought-iron lamp and hoist myself up and out of the skylight. But luckily I wasn’t forced to test my escape plan.

Next stop was the Grizzly House for fondue. Pricey but delicious, it’s an evening’s entertainment as well as a meal. Unluckily, one of our fondue burners began to belch gouts of flame like a deranged dragon, but luckily one of the heroic waiters swooped in to save us before the flames reached the paper placemats. Those guys have nerves of steel and fingers of asbestos – he reached through the flames, turned the burner off, and whisked it away; all within seconds and without a change of expression. Wow.

The next day we went to the Banff Upper Hot Springs. I made a potty stop in the changing room, and just as I sat down my sunglasses slipped over the back of my head. I felt them hit my back. Then I felt them hit my butt. Then… *clink*

I thought, “Oh, please, tell me they didn’t fall into the toilet!”

Yep, they did.

But luckily I hadn’t used the toilet yet.

So I squeamishly fished the glasses out and scrubbed them with copious amounts of soap. Settling them back on my face still seemed a bit gross, but I got over it. But their run of bad luck wasn’t over yet. After we got back from the pool, they fell again… onto the concrete floor of the changing room.

Smash. Frames go one way, a lens goes the other.

But the lens didn’t scratch or break and I picked it up and pressed it back into the frame, where it has stayed ever since.  So that seemed like good luck.

And speaking of good luck, the food was amazing! Buttermilk pancakes with apple compote, candied walnuts, and vanilla cream for breakfast at the Buffalo Mountain Lodge; cheese fondue, bagna cauda, prawns, lobster, scallops, elk, ostrich, and alligator at the Grizzly House with a fruit-and-chocolate fondue for dessert (yes, I was in pain afterward); and even a BeaverTail (I managed to fit that in between my ice cream cone and my candied apple). Yum!

And driving back to Calgary in the eastbound lane of the TransCanada Highway on Friday afternoon, we considered ourselves supremely lucky to not be part of the bumper-to-bumper westbound traffic.

So in the end I had just enough bad luck to make my good luck seem even better. And that makes me feel lucky indeed!

How was your week?

Hot Cars And Warm Memories

/ Diane Henders / 35 Comments

Woohoo! The new cover for Book 2: THE SPY IS CAST is finally ready!  Playing with the Audi R8 was fabulous, and it brought back memories, too.

I’d love to blame the long delay on ‘circumstances beyond my control’, but the truth is I’m doing the covers myself and it took so long because I’m short on ‘spare’ time and dog-slow at Photoshop. But hey, I’m getting better! By the time I’ve finished updating all the covers, I should be a pro. (Or, more likely, a trained chimpanzee repeating rote behaviours without grasping the underlying concepts, but whatever. It kinda looks the same to anybody who isn’t a pro themselves.)

Anyway, without further ado, here it is:

I’m pleased with the sophisticated gray-on-gray (no, not Fifty Shades) look, and I’m thrilled to have a real R8 in the picture! When I wrote the book, I never dreamed I’d actually end up sitting in the car of my literary fantasies. Many thanks to Doug S. and the staff at Glenmore Audi for letting me do the photo shoot at their dealership!

My only regret is that I didn’t ask to go for a ride in the R8, but I’m not too sad about missing out. It isn’t right to make a car like that slog along in Calgary traffic, and there’s no place around here where it could really strut its stuff. But even though I didn’t go for a cruise, the thought of riding in a hot car brought back a happy memory for me.

I’m not sure whether a love of high-performance automobiles is genetic or learned, but either way I was destined to inherit it. My dad’s dream car was a 1966 Corvette Stingray with the 427 big-block, and sometime in the mid-70s he bought one. (Aydan’s 1966 ‘Vette in the Never Say Spy series is based on my dad’s car. Are you surprised? Nah, I didn’t think so.)

We lived out in the country on gravel roads that weren’t Corvette-friendly, and Dad lived a busy life. The ‘Vette didn’t get driven very often, but every now and then he’d fire it up and go for a run. Since he had a wife and three kids and only one passenger seat, we kids didn’t get to ride along very often; but one day it was my turn. I was in my mid-teens at the time, not quite old enough to have my driver’s license, but old enough to know safe driving habits.

We rumbled out the lane and idled along the gravel road until we got to the highway, which was straight and flat with miles of visibility. Dad looked both ways, turned onto the highway… and punched the gas! He was always a careful and law-abiding driver, so I wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or exhilarated. The big engine roared and the tires chirped through the shifts. Dad dodged back and forth between lanes, showing off the handling (which was pretty good considering it was a brute-force muscle car), and then he pointed it straight and let the horses run.

As quickly as it had started, it was over. He slowed down and turned around, and we drove home as sedately as if we’d been in the family sedan.

But one or both of us might have been grinning.

So thanks again, Doug and the gang, for letting me “borrow” the R8, and for reminding me of a beloved memory of my dad and his dream car.

Corvette

Dad’s Corvette 30 years ago. Yes, that’s an outhouse in the background.

 

I Love My Job!

/ Diane Henders / 34 Comments

I’m always alert for research opportunities, and this week I was rewarded beyond my wildest dreams.

As you may know, I’m redoing my book covers. I’ve hired a professional photographer to do the main images but I’m filling in the backgrounds myself, so I needed a tractor/trailer unit for Book 8: SPY NOW, PAY LATER.  John R., one of the true Knights of the Road who’s been trucking for 48 years, generously agreed to let me photograph his truck.

Little did I know what was about to happen…

John and me

 

When we arrived at the depot, John offered to move the truck to where I could get a good shot. Then he asked if I wanted to get in the cab while he moved it.

Well, hell, yeah! I clambered eagerly into the passenger seat and peppered him with questions about the gauges and the engine and the air brakes and the jake-brake (engine retarder brake) and everything else, while he patiently explained it all.

I’ve always loved the roar and snort of the big diesels and the bone-rattling growl of the jake-brake, but I’ve never had a chance to get up-close-and-personal with them. Perched in the passenger seat grinning from ear to ear, I basked in the auditory delight while he drove across the yard.

I had finished my pictures and was turning away when John asked, “Do you want to go for a ride?”

Do I? Are you kidding? I was up into that passenger seat so fast I don’t think my feet even touched the steps.

When we reached the Trans-Canada Highway he turned left, which surprised me. I thought it would have been easier to turn right instead of crossing the median with the big rig, but whatever. I was in my glory, and John even indulged me by using the jake a couple of times even though it was completely unnecessary (we were out in the middle of nowhere so it wasn’t prohibited).

At the next small town he turned around to head back, but after crossing the median again to get us on the right side of the highway, he pulled over onto the shoulder and stopped.

Then he said, “Now you’re going to drive us back.” (John has trained lots of drivers for their Class 1 license so this wasn’t as reckless as it might sound, but I’m convinced he has nerves of steel nonetheless.)

After a moment of paralyzed disbelief, I jumped at the chance. My heart pounded so hard I thought I might have a heart attack and I’m pretty sure John’s steering wheel still bears the imprints of my white-knuckled grip, but I drove an 18-wheeler! How cool is that?!?

My short but thrilling trucking career (note the wild hair – we had the windows open so I could enjoy the sound of the engine).

My short but thrilling trucking career (wild hair and all – we had the windows open so I could enjoy the sound of the engine).

I certainly didn’t perform any great feats of driving skill – John shifted the gears from the passenger’s seat because I couldn’t figure out the split-shift and keep my eyes on the road at the same time. But I kept it between the lines and I made the two turns off the highway and onto the yard without dropping the trailer into the ditch, so I’m going to call it a success overall. And it was a giant thrill!

Have I mentioned lately that I love being a fiction writer?

I really, really do!

Many thanks to John for my big adventure, and to his wife Nellie for documenting it with photos!