Well, as I said last time, I came within a hair’s breadth of saying some very choice things to Arnie Thralling. I mean, really, could he have acted any less concerned about the fact that he had given use of his car to a legally blind resident?
I needed to share the history (again) so you could understand my surprise about Grandma Bricken’s reaction to the story. She has a gift of sifting through an entire tale and finding one part that can become a lesson.
This blog post was written by Kat – a main character in the Alaska Iconoclast series.
I thought you’d be interested in how our legally blind resident, Norbert Crosskill, ended up driving a car on Main Street. (My blog entry on December 7, 2012.) I sure was. So, after I finished up at the police station I went directly home. I cuddled into my overstuffed couch with a hot cup of some kind of nerve-calming tea and asked myself, “If Norbert is legally blind and, as far as I know, hasn’t owned a vehicle in a decade, how did he get a car?” I looked out the window and let my mind dip and fly upward like a raven at play in the wind. It hit me! I KNEW that car. (After all, I live in a small town and a fire-engine red Dodge Charger kind of stands out.)
I promptly walked myself back to town and to the car’s owner – namely Arnie Thralling who has a penchant for all motorized vehicles and restoring old boats.
This blog post was written by Kat – a main character in the Alaska Iconoclast series.
I am the part-time (and only) help for the Ravens Cove police. In the winter, I go in once or twice a week. So, the story that follows can only be described as serendipitous.
The day started normally enough. As always, I stood in front of the station and fumbled through my bag for the ever-elusive keys. (I know I should put them in a specific pocket but it is winter in the Cove and ever-so boring. So, I made up this little game: I see how fast I can dig the keys out of my ‘bottomless pit’ of a purse. I get a mocha if it’s less than thirty seconds.) I grabbed the key ring on the first try. Exhilaration coursed through my body and I high-fived my reflection in the door. Just as quickly I dropped my prize back into the ebony depths.
I swung around to watch as a fire-engine red Dodge Charger sped toward the station — and me. I froze. All I could think to do was plaster my body against the door and suck in my stomach. (Like that would make me less of a target?) I think my life flashed before my eyes. I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes. I heard tires on ice and then silence. I opened my eyes to see the car sitting pretty as you please in front of the general store which is about ten feet from the police station — and me. Still plastered to the door, eyes as wide as saucers I’m sure, I watched Norbert Crosskill open the driver’s door and slam the tip of his white cane to the ground. Norbert has been legally blind for at least a decade.
“Mornin’, Norbert?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say—well I could but it shouldn’t be printed here.
He jumped. “Kat? Where’d you come from?”
“It's a work day for me.” I tried to sound matter-of-fact.
Norbert dropped his head to his chest. “You know I'm not supposed to drive,” he whispered. He lifted his head and we stared at each. My eyes still wide from adrenaline, his wide as if that would help him see me better. Norbert broke the silence. “Well, have a good day.” He tap-tapped his way to the store and disappeared inside.
I located my keys and bee-lined it to my desk phone to call Bart. (Bart is my cousin and the town’s one police officer.) I punched in the first three numbers and stopped. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Norbert reached his boiling point that day and this reckless drive to town was his way of shaking a mental fist at his failing eyesight. I dropped the handset into its cradle.
“No harm, no fowl.” I mumbled. I turned on the computer at my desk and went to work.
Until next time,
Kat
For years my first book sat in a drawer, never getting past Chapter Three. I had edited those chapters until there was no more to do. I was stuck. Then, someone told me about National Novel Writing Month. NaNoWriMo for short. It is an online program where a writer commits to write a novel, at least 50,000 words, in 30 days. Well, I took a shot at it.
I have written three novels using National Novel Writing Month. All three were written in the month of November and all three have been published. This year, however, I missed NaNoWriMo. I had just been through the exciting, and nonetheless, grueling exercise of getting Book Three to the publisher. So, I procrastinated and did not write Book Four.
Two weeks ago, I received an email from the powers that be at NaNoWrimo. They now hold writing camps twice a year. Yep. It’s like going to camp online. It is a virtual writers’ retreat and costs nothing to participate. It’s rules are less structured than November’s writing marathon which adds to a relaxed and fun atmosphere for creating that masterpiece.
If you have been avoiding writing your novel, or even a screenplay, here’s your chance. Go online to National Novel Writing Month: https://campnanowrimo.org/sign_in .
Until Next Time,
Being the author of three published books, I have done more book signings than I can count. When I first started, the pressure of succeeding overwhelmed me. My publisher, Evan Swensen of Publication Consultants, helped to calm and focus me by saying a successful book signings consists of two things: the author and the books both show up. To this day, I rely on that pearl of wisdom.
I have run the gambit of book signings. I have sold one copy on a given day, and sold out another. Last Saturday, March 8, 2014, I did neither; yet, it was one of the most amazingly blessed days I’ve had. I have pondered why I felt this one came to the top.
Yes, I signed seventeen copies in the first hour and that started the day with a bang. I’ve done that before, though. Sales make it a good day but not always a great day.
It was the people that made my day so special. One of my earliest readers hunted me down to get a copy of the newest book in the series, Gorgon. She brought her entire family and I was blessed to talk to her young daughter and get pictures of that special moment.
The staff of Fred Meyer on Dimond Boulevard in Anchorage, Alaska, made sure I was set up in a prime location to talk to customers. They stopped by to say hello on a regular basis. I laughed more that day than I had in a month.
A gentleman in the film industry stopped by my table and expressed interest in a movie. (Who knows where that will go; I was tickled by the thought.)
Sue Henry, a well-known Alaskan author, stopped by and introduced herself. She made me feel so special and talented. We had a few minutes to converse and I now know why she is one of my favorite authors. She is both talented and a down-to-earth and loving person.
These are just a few of the highlights of a day that will stand out in my memory as one of my most successful.
May you be as blessed as I am in your writing career.
Until Next Time,