End of the Year? End of a Print Run!

I'm making some big changes!

Sorry if this is a wonky-looking post, but I've been trying to send it as a newsletter and it appears to have failed.So I'm posting this news here.

I've got some BIG NEWS that's actually kind of bittersweet.

I'm taking MOST of my books off sale at the end of this year.

I've come to the tough decision that I need to relaunch the books with new covers, and a new series name. While I love the existing covers, they don't quite capture what the books are about, and if I want to reach more awesome readers like you, I'm going to have to fine tune my brand. 

What does this mean to you?

Well, it means that any paperbacks with the current covers I have in stock are going to be on sale for a serious discount. Basically my cost, plus postage. And who knows? These might become collector's items someday. 

So check out my eStore and order your copies today. Once they're gone, they're gone - so don't miss out.

I've also discounted ALL eBooks to 99¢ from now until they go off sale. When they come back with the new covers, they won't be this cheap!

Shop the SALE Now!

Here's a partial peek at the new cover for Last Shot at Justice.
If you want a bigger sneak peek of what the new covers look like, head over to my website and see if you can find the "easter egg" - that's a graphic that seems a little out of place, and is really a link to a secret page that has TWO of the new covers on it.

Strong Women and Likable Characters

I was thinking about the fictionalized strong woman, recently. I consider myself to be a fan and supporter of strong women and humbly count myself among their number. I even have a Facebook group dedicated to strong women, so strong women—real and fictional—are near and dear to my heart.


The other day I was watching the movie Leap Year, and didn’t find the lead female to be particularly likable. I thought she was determined and spirited, but did I like her? Having seen it before, I knew by the end she'd be likable. Same with several Meg Ryan characters, notably Kate in Kate & Leopold, or Kate in French Kiss. And even Kristen Bell in When in Rome, Katherine Heigl in The Ugly Truth, or any number of Rom-Coms. Which right there is saying a lot. These strong women characters are so often portrayed in the romantic COMEDIES! (Okay, maybe I just notice it the most in Rom-Coms, when viewers are expected to root for the couple to end up together.)

I was wondering if I'd be able to tell when the gal in Leap Year became likable. What happened in the movie that made her relatable to me as a viewer? I think it was when she was running to make the train, in the rain, and fell down the hill and got covered in mud. This bedraggled woman showed me her humanity. She was torn down to the worst physical representation of a strong woman, and she broke down, but she still pulled herself together and moved forward. That made the respect I felt for her blossom into full-blown admiration, and from there I grew to like her.

Isn’t that what we do as strong women? It isn’t that we’re never down, never afraid, never broken. It’s that we get back up and move forward, often by ourselves, and make whatever has happened work for us. 

I just realized that a common factor in the movies I mentioned is that the women don’t have that bevy of girlfriends they can turn to for help and encouragement. These women are on their own, by their own design, and they deal with life on their own. They fall in love in spite of the men, and they don’t let the fact of that love get in the way of being strong. We like them by the end, and feel like they deserve the love of the man. But is it because of their strength, or their humanity and flaws?

This brings me to another question. Why does the strong woman have to be likable? How many times have you said, “Now there’s a woman I love to hate”? I’ve said that about plenty of male characters, and the actors who portray them. But women? At the moment, I can’t think of many. Mags Bennett in Justified. Cruella DeVille in 101 Dalmatians. I know I run into it more in novels. I like to think I’ve written a couple strong women villains, myself. (Angelisa in Last Second Chance, and Tawnia in the Bonnie Isles Trilogy.) But they're villains, not anti-heroes. Why aren't we expected to like strong women characters in movies and on TV?

I think we’ve been trained for it as a society. This great article by Caroline Siede on BoingBoing.net talks about this training as it relates to female politicians, specifically Hillary Clinton, and I won’t try to say it better than she does, or again, but I strongly recommend reading the article—whether you care about the politics of it or not.

I also challenge you to watch movies and read books while keeping your eyes on the female characters, and try to identify specific characteristics—not just physical traits. If she’s “strong,” what makes her strong? Do you like her? If not, why not? If she’s “weak,” how do you feel about her? Do you like her, or just feel sorry for her? Consciously look for the plot device that's designed to help you come around to liking her. See if you can recognize the manipulation. (Yes, the art of a good storyteller is in manipulation, so I guess I'm asking you to look at the "man behind the curtain.")

I would love it if you came back and engaged in a discussion with me about the likability of strong women. Do you see a disparity in how we look at men vs. women? Should we "get over" the bias against strong women?

In the meantime, I’m going to continue creating strong women characters, and challenge myself not to force them to be likable.

(Full disclosure: Most of the links in this post are Amazon affiliate links, and any purchases you make after clicking through on them will net me a tiny kickback.)

Review of A Taste of Bliss by Adrian R. Hale

Solid 4 Stars
I quite liked this story. I was very moved by Lisa, Bliss' mother's storyline. Tragic and yet inspiring.

Talan was a sweetheart. Almost too perfect, but honestly, that's the way I like my heroes. It's nice to think there's a guy out there who can handle all our BS. I liked the layers to his personality and his life, and the way he was all in when it came to Bliss. My only problem is the amount of time he was absent from the story. I got a bit twitchy wondering when he was going to be back in the picture.

Bliss... Well, I liked her well enough. I thought she was pretty relatable, flawed, and real. She'd go flying off the handle, and then come to her senses. And Lord knows I'm a lot like her when it comes to overthinking things, and creating issues when there isn't really one there. Unlike her, I like to think I would let someone say their piece, defend themselves, in the event of a major misunderstanding, but who knows.

That particular misunderstanding was pretty predictable, although I did wonder what the real story was going to be. (Sorry if I'm vague, but I don't like to leave spoilers.)

My main problem with this story isn't really the story, it's the fact that it is not only first person, which--as those of you who follow my reviews know--is not my favorite, but it is also in present tense, which I find super distracting. I've only ever read one book in present tense that I didn't find so distracting--I hardly even noticed it, it was so well done. This one, for me, was not. As a reader, I was taken out of the bubble every time to dialog fell into past tense--which was often--and during the times when Bliss is flashing back to something that happened "off scene". So it felt bouncy and just not smooth.

Take that for what it's worth. For me, it's worth the loss of a whole star. But other readers who don't have problems with first person present tense may not mind it at all. Otherwise, the plot was well constructed, the characters all likable and relate-able, and the writing--other than my issues framed above--was very well done.

EarWorms and Alarms

So, I wake up every morning to a song. I always hated the old alarm clocks that blared sirens and bells and whistles at me, so I bless the smart phone and the ability to load up a nice tune to sing me awake.

What do I have for my wake up song? Martin Sexton's "Over My Head". It is gentle, tuneful, and perhaps one of my most favorite songs, ever. Waking up to it just about guarantees I'll have it on my brain -- or in my ear -- for the rest of the day, and so far I'm okay with that.

But last week I was prescribed some medication that has a very specific window of time I have to take it in. It has to be taken between 4:00 a.m. and 8:00 a.m., and then I can't eat for 30-60 minutes after taking it. Now, anyone who knows me knows that 4:00 a.m. is out of the question, unless I haven't been to bed, yet.

See, here's the way my day works. "Over My Head" starts playing at 8:00, and I lie in bed doing some social media work -- and yes, it IS work for me -- until about 8:45, which is when I have to get up and check and report the rain gauge. By the time I do that, enough time has passed that I can eat before I go to the gym. Then I do some gardening, more social media and research, and if I'm really "on", some writing before Hubby gets home, and then when he goes to bed, I really knuckle down with the writing.

But I know myself. If I don't have a special reminder while this pill-taking business is so new, I might forget. So I set another alarm. And this one may crack you up. It does me. I have it set for 8:05 a.m. -- so far I've remembered to take the pill when the first alarm goes off every day except one, but that one day the second alarm saved the day. I'm hopeless.

What is the second alarm, though? It wouldn't work to have the same song, would it? So I have Melissa Etheridge's "The Letting Go" for the second song. 

Problem is, this song is also a favorite, and an earworm that has potential to last all day. So what happens? I get the confused earworm that goes a little something like this:

"I came here to let you know, the letting go has taken place...this boy in a boat that I am, through the haze I can catch a glimpse of the damage that's been done. Isn't that what we wanted, all along? Freedom like a stone, and my pockets full of sand...I'm over my head!"

I don't mind it, so far. Soon I'll feel confident enough in taking the pill on the first alarm that I won't need to have the second, and these pleasant earworms are antidote against other songs that invade my ears during the day.

Does this ever happen to you? What is your best earworm? (Please don't tell me your worst!)




    

Review of Chasing Tomorrow, by SJ McCoy

On Goodreads, I changed my star rating from four (Which would be more like 4.75) to five to four again, and ended up changing it back before I finished. The only thing holding me back from the full five *Amazing* there was that I had a little trouble (when I stopped to think about it) believing these characters I adore from the other books were eighteen here. That's a *very* small quibble.

For the rest of it, I read all but the first couple chapters in one sitting, and was pretty much riveted to the book. Finally learning what happened between Ben and Charlotte was heartbreaking.

The author deals with a tragic and authentic event with just the right amount of weight: not so heavy-handed that the reader breaks, but by no means so lightly that it doesn't have substance. (I don't want to spoil anything, so I'm being incredibly vague, I know.)

As I said, I didn't quite think of the cast as being eighteen, but it was nice to catch glimpses of the original crew all as they prepare to embark on adulthood, personalities we know and love intact.

I did have a moment while "with" Ben when I deflated for his sake, realizing where things were headed, and I was not sure if he would or even should recover. I was never so glad to be wrong, although what did happen was still...heartbreaking. I'm using that word a lot, but that's the tone of the book.

Chasing Tomorrow is a must read if you are a fan of Summer Lake, but it is not a standalone. You don't want to miss the other books, which set up why this book is so important. SJ McCoy just keeps getting better. This book is well written and clean, and while it is short, it is a most excellent way to spend a couple hours. 

Review of The Cloud Seeker, by Jayne Lockwood

What a fantastic story. The characters are well drawn and very complex. The hero is by turn likeable and so messed up that I almost want to hate him. I rode that roller coaster right along with the heroine. Their relationship was definitely rocky and there was one point where I wasn't sure they would reconcile. The story unfolds with beautiful symmetry, revealing each character's history with well-paced precision, at a tempo which--while not fast--nevertheless kept me turning pages. To the point What a fantastic story. The characters are well drawn and very complex. The hero is by turn likable and so messed up that I almost want to hate him. I rode that roller coaster right along with the heroine. Their relationship was definitely rocky and there was one point where I wasn't sure they would reconcile. The story unfolds with beautiful symmetry, revealing each character's history with well-paced precision, at a tempo which--while not fast--nevertheless kept me turning pages. To the point that I was reading it exclusively, when I usually have one book going on each of my two devices. The Cloud Seeker deals with some messed up experiences and people who are damaged by them. I don't want to give much away, but the author fearlessly deals with the aftereffects of one character surviving one of the most notorious events in recent history, and she does it with aplomb. The truth, when it comes out, has been built up so well that I thought "Of course that's what it was!" but I hadn't quite put it together myself. The only quibble--and it is a very minor quibble--is that the characters from the US occasionally have speech mannerisms that are, in my opinion, not very American. But I was only aware of this on the periphery. It slipped me to the edge of 'the bubble' every so often, but not really enough to pop it for me. I could almost believe it was east coast vs my west coast colloquialisms. Read the Cloud Seeker. You won't be sorry.

Spring Stream of Consciousness

Boy, the blog post was the furthest from my radar this week, and coming into this morning I looked at my to-do list and saw “Blog Post” and realized, I got nothing. So we’re going to go with a stream of consciousness.

I don’t know about where you are, but here in the Pacific Northwest, we’re going through the throes of spring madness. I got all excited about planting our garden. We had been waiting and waiting to even fill our new garden beds with soil because “it’s still winter” then all the sudden the trees are blooming, it’s 60 degrees out during the day, and people are talking about planting peas. And here we are with no soil, even. So while the weather was nice for a few days, we brought in four pickup loads of soil from Lane Forest Products, our local go-to for yard and garden products, and filled up nine raised beds and three old truck tires—shoot, I just realized I never bought the beans! We put in peas, but no beans, darn it! Told you this was stream of consciousness. Anyway, now I’ve also planted a beet (beat) box, a ton of onions, and started a bunch of plant seeds under a grow house. There’s even some tiny lettuce plants in there already.

I’m super excited, but I’m also very nervous. It’s been over 5 years since I’ve had a garden, and while I was never close to being an expert, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten most of what I knew about when to start plants, and spacing, and transplanting...all that good stuff. Hubby and I recognized that this year is going to be just a crap shoot as to whether we succeed or fail, but we’re hoping to have a good supply of our own green groceries. I plan to try my hand at canning some stuff, too.

As nervous as I am, I very much enjoy gardening. It is fun to get my hands dirty, and once things start peeking out of the ground, it becomes this satisfying miracle to nurture the plants and see them through to harvest. It’s still really early for it. March has really decided to come in like a lion this year. The temps have dipped, and the rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling down, down... (Hey hey hey hey!) (There’s the stream again, taking me down with Simple Minds...)

We still have much to do in the yard, too. We’re going to put in a small blueberry hedge, and some fruit trees, if we can find dwarf stock. Gotta make the best use we can out of our tiny lot. About an 8th of the yard still needs to be leveled out, and walk-on bark put down, and then (at last!) we’ll be able to gravel the driveway, which I can’t wait to do. (No more mud and sand getting tracked into the house!) But all of that depends upon the rain stopping long enough to dig in the dirt without creating a mud pie. Which we already did, once. What a mess that was! Then we can move the sheds around to their permanent homes, and tear down the last of the old shed. Oh, and by the time things dry out, we’ll want to have the well back up and running. That will be an advantage over paying for city water to water the garden.

So much to do, but you know what, I’m super glad to be home and working on it this year. This is the first summer since 2010 that we will be home, and I am totally psyched for it. I always got twitchy on the truck, wishing my hands were getting dirty with soil rather than grease and carbon soot and whatever else we got out hands into while loading and unloading the trailer.

What do you do in the spring? What are your plans for summer?

New Facebook group = What makes a Strong Woman?

I had something of an epiphany while I was at my sister’s house, after the Writer’s Conference. At the conference, I learned that I need to interact with people in my genre more, but I didn’t want it to be just about me, you know? I was trying to figure out how to encourage more interactions with people who, like me, enjoy a good suspenseful read with a strong female lead. Then it hit me: I could start a Facebook group for and about Strong Women in Suspense. 

It’s off to a pretty good start. We’re already up above 25 members (which was my 3 month goal) and having some lively discussions about what makes a strong woman, in life and in fiction. We’ve shared some inspiring stories of current and historical strong women. We’ve shared inspirational memes and held each other up to the light.

We’ve even shared a blog post from a man who is suggesting tips for dating strong women. After all, the group shouldn’t just be limited to women. There are men out there who encourage, support, and inspire strong women, and it was never my intention to be a hen party of women bashing men. (So by all means, if you know a man who wouldn’t be threatened by this group and would, in fact, contribute, invite him!)

I like to write my female characters as strong women. Maybe they won’t always start out as strong women, but by the end of their story arc, they will be. My stories may even have more strong women than weak, or I like the word undeveloped better. 

In my latest novel, I had two beta readers (out of four) say the teenage girls didn’t react realistically to the situation they were in. Part of me rebelled. How was the story supposed to move forward if all they did was scream and huddle together? Then I realized I was having a knee-jerk reaction to the perceived suggestion that my females were too strong, and I took a step back to look at it objectively.

I knew my girls were strong, especially the heroine, so what the beta readers were really telling me was that I hadn’t convinced them by showing why and how they could be so strong. Which led me to consider the kinds of things that make us strong.

First and foremost, education. In my book, Kylie is the daughter of a veterinarian, and her (single) mother brought her along when she’d go to special trainings, like disaster preparedness. In a small town where there isn’t a big hospital and most of the emergency crews are volunteer, it made sense to me that a vet, who has a base of medical training anyway, would want to be ready in the event of a tornado or a wreck on the highway. Janie isn’t the sort to just let Kylie sit in the car and wait. She was exposed to these clinics, and learned alongside her mother how to handle a crisis.

Second, I think, would be a loving and supportive family. Kylie’s dad only recently came back on the scene, but her mother was always there for her, as were her grandparents. She always had someone to look up to and receive love from. They encouraged her to be her own person, and even let her make her mistakes, but they were always there to love her.

This third element isn’t something every woman has access to, but Kylie grew up around animals that were larger than her. She learned to respect that size, but also not to let her fear of it control her. She gained confidence through the knowledge that she could work with a creature who outweighed her by hundreds of pounds, and bend it to her will. She learned that to give in to fear was to get trampled, hurt, thrown, and broken, and she learned to control her fear—not to say she never felt it, she just never let it control her.

I guess that could break down to learning about fear in general. I had a friend once who told me there are two kinds of people in the world. Those who are afraid and shut down, and those who are afraid and do it anyway. She and I were in the latter category, and so is Kylie.

What do you think makes women—or anyone—strong? What experiences have made you strong?

Writer’s Conference = Productivity!

It’s a beautiful day outside the window of my writing cave. I wish I had gone for a bike ride instead of driving to the gym to work out, but let’s face it. It wasn’t this nice when my schedule dictated I head to the gym. 

What? you say. Kristi with a schedule? How bizarre. Tell me about it.

Last weekend I went to the 21^st Annual South Coast Writer’s Conference in Gold Beach. As usual. (I’ve only missed 5 of the 21, I think.) This year I got a lot of bang for my buck. Not that I don’t normally, but this year they had some great speakers on topics I really needed to hear about if I am going to take a proper crack at writing full time.

Managed to get SOME time on the beach!

I spent Friday in an all-day intensive workshop about the serious business of writing, facilitated by Jason Brick. One of many things he taught that really resonated with me is, “The more you don’t want to have a schedule, the more you need one.”

Sigh. So, here I am. Writing a blog post because it is on my newly developed schedule. But you know what, instead of resenting it and fighting it, I’m actually enjoying the process. This is coming off as more “stream of consciousness” writing, but that is part of the plan, too. 

Another presenter, Eric Witchey, taught that there are no wrong ideas. Or more precisely, the only wrong idea in writing is the one that never gets written down.

I came away with so many wonderful tools. Like how to use a Pomodoro timer to focus on my writing. To me it is comparable to what I learned in a 12 Step program: You can do for 30 minutes what you can’t imagine doing all day. Then you take a break and start the timer again. In this way you train yourself to focus and cut out the distractions.

Another tool is also courtesy of Mr. Witchey. Use a metronome to trigger ideas. Train yourself that with every tock of the metronome you come up with one idea – this is great for the brainstorming stage of writing. Each idea may be more wild and outrageous than the last, but something in that maelstrom of ideas will be the perfect torture to put my characters through. 

I anticipate not spending quite so long pondering plot points, but rather coming up with more gut wrenching plots for your entertainment. My goal for the future is to not just entertain you with my stories, but really affect you with them. It’s time to move beyond the fluff, the mind-candy, and make some seriously memorable fiction you’ll want to read again and again.

Part of my new schedule is a promise to myself, and to anyone who does me the honor of following me, to faithfully write a blog post every Wednesday, and to post a newsletter on the first Saturday of each month. I tend to worry about producing content that people will find interesting, but with these new tools, I’m confident I can entertain you. Yes. Confident. Really.

And what do you know—now it's raining! This is all I have for today, but I will surely expand on it for the Newsletter, so keep your eyes open for it. You can sign up on my website - or visit the page to see it posted. I will also post a link to it here in the Bounded in a Nutshell blog.

Until then... Thrive, my friends.

Remembering 49 States

This is a crossover post from my other blog, Over the Road with the Ball & Chain.

Upon hearing me boast (yep—got busted boasting!) that I had been to every state in the Lower 48, someone recently challenged me as to whether I could come up with a meaningful anecdote from each state.

I accepted that challenge—although I don't remember who issued it as it was a friend of a friend—and I have been working on it.

I've found it's a good exercise both for my memory and just creativity in general.

Here are the results:

Anecdotes by State –
Except where noted, all memories are as an adult, between 1992 and the present.

Alabama – Got lost in downtown Mobile once, trying to get to the docks. It’s kind of a cool-looking city. Saw more than one sunset from the bridge coming in. The freeway going through tunnels right at the city is pretty cool, the way they go way down deep under the channel, then back up. Farther north, driving by Birmingham and seeing signs of destruction from tornadoes that had recently struck. Also, spotting the statue of Vulcan from a distance.

Alaska – Only state I haven’t been to, yet.

Arizona – Oh, where to start?

• Spent a day and a half exploring Tombstone, including being invited to John the bartender’s wedding at Big Nose Kate’s, which happened right out in the street in front. Sadly, he was waaay drunk. Cool ‘reenactments’ and buying 1880’s clothes. Window shopping the souvenirs.
• Highway 60 through the White River Canyon—scary and gorgeous. Seeing cars that had gone over the sides and were left because it was impossible to get them out.
• Of course, the Grand Canyon. Three times, once as a kid. This last time going in stormy weather, standing on the rim with my hair standing straight up from the electrical charge. Walking parts of the South Rim trail, ending up having to catch a shuttle back in a downpour.
• Exploring Flagstaff on foot. Nice shops. Nice people—we talked to several, in shops and on the bus. Driving rental car to Grand Canyon, and also to the Two Arrows Casino east of town.
• Driving the Virgin River Gorge several times, but once with the moon rising and making the canyon walls look super cool—which they do anyway.
• Picking up copper plates at a copper mine/smelter in Hayden in +100 degree heat. Seeing (from a distance) the molten copper being poured out of giant kettles and marveling that the workers could stand the heat—noticing how they all moved really slowly.

Arkansas – Picking up steel beams in Blytheville and Osceola. (I know: Yawn.) Also repeatedly long traffic snarls due to bridge work closing one direction of the freeway and everyone having to squeeze to one lane. Driving north on I-540 through Fayetteville, up and down hills and around curves in crappy weather—wind and rain and wondering if there was a tornado in there somewhere.

California – Lots here, too. Here’s the best:

• Delivering a load to Avila Beach, spending the rest of the day walking on the beach, talking to locals, having dinner in a nice restaurant, watching the sunset over the boardwalk, and then falling asleep to the sound of the waves right outside the truck window.
• Driving down the Grapevine with a heavy load the first time. I stayed slow, so it was fine, but I was nervous.
• Being part of a convoy of trucks delivering solar farm parts to a remote location near Santa Margarita. Road was so curvy they had to close it to traffic coming the other way so trucks could clear corners without worry.
• Driving into a huge electrical storm near Barstow while hauling a load of coiled rebar.
• Several trips over Donner Pass, a few in crappy weather. Views when stopped on top at the rest areas. Once waiting for highway to open, we had a great lunch at a tiny café in Applegate.
• Delivering a load to a construction site just near Crissy Field, and exploring the beach on the Bay, with the Golden Gate Bridge in the near distance.
• Delivering reclaimed/recycled wood materials to McCloud in a snowstorm. We had parked just outside their yard that night, and had to chain up just to get into their yard so we could deliver.

Colorado – Spending a day in Englewood with Collin’s sister and nieces. Driving US Highway 550 by moonlight between Durango and Silverton—Coal Bank Pass. Driving over ‘the hill’—Vale Pass, etc, in all kinds of weather. Getting passed by a Schneider truck with smoking brakes going west down from Vale. Glenwood Canyon is cool to drive, with the gorge narrowing and the interstate having to be on stair-stepped bridges and tunnels just to fit alongside the river.

Connecticut – getting stopped by a State Trooper because he couldn’t see our IFTA sticker. When Collin hopped out to talk to him, the trooper instructed him to get back in the truck, stating, “That’s a good way to get yourself shot here in Connecticut.” And of course, the traffic! Gah! Lots of cool architecture (seen from the highway)—notably churches in Hartford and Waterbury. Driving I-95 along the coast.

Delaware – One of our first loads, we were picking up some freight—planks from old pickle barrels—from a tiny place and had to stop for the night because it was storming so bad and it was pitch dark. The truck was rocking all night from the wind. Then driving in to the town in the morning (I think it was Millsboro) with the whole landscape drenched. The people we were picking up from brought coffee out to us, and they were very nice. They were metal artists, and they had lots of cool yard art everywhere. On another trip, picking up ramp parts for the X-Games double loop stunt to take to Los Angeles. (Parts were still being painted, plus they were oversize and we had to wait for permits.)

District of Columbia – When I took the train across country in 1995 to visit my friend who worked as a National Park Ranger on the National Mall, I got to walk down the inside of Washington Monument, which they weren't letting tourists do at that time. Got lots of other 'insider' treats, but that was the best. As a trucker, I saw an accident, with a guy in handcuffs sitting on the median and cops all over. Didn’t spend too much time actually within the borders of DC, but experienced a LOT of traffic going around it.

Florida – lots, here:

• Spending the day with my uncle and his wife exploring Tarpon Springs, an old Greek community of sponge divers. Neat aquarium. Got to ‘pet’ snakes and little manta rays.
• Visiting Kissimmee, watching the show at Medieval Times, walking around exploring, seeing a ‘gator farm.’ Shopping for souvenirs.
• Delivering a load of rocket parts to Cape Canaveral—actually out onto the base. Saw where they launch the shuttles from. Then spent the rest of the day at the beach by the port, watching dolphins escorting the passing cruise ships, seeing manatees, sea turtles, and other wildlife.
• Breaking down in Vero Beach and ‘having’ to spend a couple days there. Walking on the beach, drinking great piña coladas and eating at Waldo’s, visiting with locals.
• Making a delivery in Miami, arriving late and parking on the street outside the receiver, and having a woman knock on the door at 2am, ostensibly checking out where we were delivering, but probably selling drugs or herself.

Georgia – Exploring Augusta on foot the weekend before the Masters; walking the river trail, meeting locals. Visiting Collin’s nephew and his family in Fort Benning, seeing the Infantry Museum with them. Driving up I-95 watching for tornados.

Hawaii – went as a kid. Snorkeling from a catamaran. Helicopter tour of Kauai. Exploring the Napali Coast in a Zodiac boat. Getting seasick and ‘curing’ it with fresh pineapple. Hanging out at the condo on Kauai and the hotel in Honolulu, hoping to meet boys. Picking up a tiny lizard from the wall in the condo, only to have its tail break off in my hand.

Idaho – Some old memories, some new:

• Coming down Fourth of July Pass and seeing the beautiful vistas. Same with the Idaho side of Lookout Pass.
• Driving US 12 between Missoula (MT) and Kooskia. (Done it in a car and in the truck.) Beautiful vistas, mountains, valleys and rivers.
• Standing at an overlook of Lake Coeur D’Alene with rags of fog blowing across the lake.
• McCall, seeing the boats in the marina at the lake, at sunset.
• Arco and the Craters of the Moon State Park – very otherworldly landscapes.

Illinois – Some old memories, mostly new:

• Walking from the train station to Shedd Aquarium and having a very nice gentleman ask me to have coffee with him. (I turned him down, since I didn’t have much time to spare.) Same trip, seeing Chicago from the top of the Sears Tower.
• Driving through downtown Chicago in the semi, both on the Interstate, and on surface streets; traffic so bad it felt like we were backing up on the Interstates, and wondering if we were going to end up faced with a low overpass or nosed into some impossible situation on the surface streets.
• Waking up late at night to find Collin had stopped to help at the scene of a rollover semi accident near Joliet, flagging vehicles around it.

Indiana – Stopping at the Warm Glow Candle factory for their Spring Tent Sale, spending lots of money on candles and wine and window-shopping all the knick-knacks. Many many many trips down US 30 in all kinds of weather and traffic – avoiding the toll road.

Iowa – Stopping at the “World’s Largest Truck Stop” and wondering what the fuss is all about. Driving I-80 into the teeth of a storm with tornado warnings going off on the radio, wondering if we were going to see a funnel cloud. (We didn’t.)

Kansas – Exploring a bit of Syracuse, Kansas, the setting for my novels. Having my first blowout on a back highway and having to drive 30 miles to the nearest town to get a new tire after hours. Picking up a load at a Rubbermaid plant in Salina that was closing down, talking to employees there.

Kentucky – Driving a back road in Eastern Kentucky, past the birthplace of Daniel Boone, seeing signs for Harlan, and thinking how old the country seems. Having the feeling like maybe I lived in the hollers in another lifetime. Hard to explain. Staying at a Super 8 in Florence and talking to folks who lived in the hotel, telling us how the police regularly raid the hotel due to drug activity. (Yikes!)

Louisiana – Delivering freight to a school in New Orleans that was being repaired after Hurricane Katrina, seeing signs of other buildings that had been damaged by the storm. Driving along I-10 through the Atchafalaya Swamp. Visiting the Louisiana Purchase Zoo in Monroe, where we took lots of pictures of several unusual animals (and some ‘normal’ zoo animals) and walked around in a park across the street, while we waited for the zoo to open.

Maine – Picking up several loads of bagged mulch from the Scott’s plant way up in Medway. Eating a lunch of Shepherd’s Pie at a truck stop. Watching for but never seeing any moose.

Maryland – Besides being stuck in traffic going around Baltimore, we delivered freight to a tiny town out in western Maryland, I think near Hagerstown, at a motocross race park. Got there late at night and not at all sure we were in the right place. Oh! I also saw an Orioles game at Camden Yard, their baseball stadium, while Cal Ripkin was still in his ‘most consecutive games started’ streak.

Massachusetts – Driving on the freeway which goes underground through much of Boston, with exchanges underground and everything. Crazy. Also, driving the Massachusetts Turnpike from end to end, singing James Taylor—(“Well the first of December was covered in snow. So was the Turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston. Ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go...”) Also delivering a load to Logan Airport.

Michigan – Delivering freight to the construction site at the Four Winds Casino outside Grand Rapids, then going to a shooting range across the street from the next pickup and borrowing a pistol to use for target practice. Also seeing the saddest town in Michigan—the name escapes me, I think it was Warren—but it was the most run down town I think I’ve ever seen. Driving on roads with the stupidest left turn scenario I’ve ever seen. (Go past the light to a U-turn lane, and have to cross two to three lanes of active traffic to get to the right turn lane, and make a right turn.)

Minnesota – A few memories. Here are the best:

• Stopping at a rest area overlooking Duluth and Lake Superior. Very pretty.
• Delivering emergency bridge materials to Ray, up almost to the Canadian border, in the dark and pouring rain, and getting a flat tire from the yard. Coming back down and spending the night on the edge of a lake we couldn’t see until morning. Beautiful, under-populated country that feels almost forsaken, in a good way.
• Hanging out much of the day in Garrison, then watching the moon rise over Mille Lacs Lake.

Missouri – getting the truck stuck in the ditch outside the cemetery where my grandparents are buried. Putting flowers and solar lights at their grave. Getting lost in St. Louis, more than once, due to road construction on the Interstate. Spending an afternoon in Oak Grove, having lunch with my cousin from Independence; also dinner (Kansas City BBQ!) on another visit.

Mississippi – Spending Fourth of July weekend in Vicksburg, gambling at the casinos, staying in an historic hotel, eating at a seafood buffet, talking with locals, including a very nice taxi driver. Discovering the cheapest fuel at Space Age Truck Stop in Meridian and making that a regular stop.

Montana – Many memories. Here are several of the best:

• Visiting Little Bighorn National Monument (twice). Standing where Reno & Benteen hunkered down to await reinforcements, and thinking I had been there before. Listening to accounts of the Battle that were vastly different from what I learned in school—thankfully.
• Visiting good friends in Helena, having dinner with them, letting their kids play on the flatbed.
• Seeing the big hole in the ground that is Butte, Montana.
• Seeing the 500’ tall Anaconda copper smelting tower—and later seeing it from 30,000 feet as I flew east, heading to Great Britain.
• Exploring the Lewis & Clark caverns with Elaine. Having a bit of a hot flash when they turned off the lights.
• Getting detoured 200 miles (RT) off I-90 due to flooding on the interstate, wondering if the roads we were diverted to would stay open long enough for us to get back on track—weather was wild and woolley. Ended up buying a favorite pair of slip-on shoes in a store that I would never have been to, otherwise.
• Driving by Glacier National Park – beautiful country.
• Stopping at the $10,000 Silver Dollar trading post several times, mostly to buy knives.

Nebraska – For whatever reason, this is my most boring state to drive through on I-80. I recall listening to the soundtrack of the Les Miserables 10 year celebration in an attempt to stay awake. I do, however, recall stopping once in Alliance, where we watched a parade of motorcycles going by. They were escorting veterans who were on their way to see the Veterans Memorial in DC—we were given flags to wave. We also got quite familiar with Northern Nebraska on US 20, as we had a ‘special back way’ to get from Minnesota to California, that involved several backcountry roads through South Dakota, Nebraska, and Wyoming.

Nevada – Several visits to Las Vegas, walking the Strip, gambling and hanging out on Fremont Street. Also enjoy gambling in Wendover. Spent rather a lot of time in Reno and Sparks, too. Enjoyed taking a boat ride on the Colorado River in Laughlin, and the water taxi over to Bullhead City in Arizona, where we often parked the truck. Gambled a lot in various casinos and walked along the river quite a few times. Even considered moving there (Laughlin).

New Hampshire – This may be the toughest one. I remember Collin wanted to look for marble rocks to bring home to the yard, so we were keeping our eyes open for likely places we could pull off and look for some. Never did find any. I also remember keeping my eyes open for moose. I’m not sure we ever picked up or delivered a load in this state, just drove through parts of it two or three times.

New Jersey – Driving on the New Jersey Turnpike many times, singing the immortal lines from “America” by Simon & Garfunkle. ("Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike and they've all come to look for America...") Getting lost more times that I care to think about in the greater Jersey City area—once looking at where we were on the iPad and seeing the roads all tangled up like a pile of spaghetti. Unloading a container at Port Elizabeth and looking across the Hudson at Manhattan.

New Mexico – Delivering insulated panels for Spaceport America in Truth or Consequences. Driving past the Very Large Array of radio telescopes off US 60. Spending a day exploring Old Town Albuquerque, talking to locals, including proprietors of a specialty Olive Oil store, and several jewelers. Gambling at the Route 66 Casino with our trucker friend, Leon. Spending the night in Bernalillo, gambling at the casino there.

New York – Quite a few memories here:

• Delivering a load out to Long Island, running out of hours, and parking on the side of the road, where we got a flat in a pothole. Lots of time rubbernecking while in traffic going over the George Washington Bridge.
• Exploring Niagara Falls with my cousin. (Twice now, once with Collin, once earlier.) Taking the Maid of the Mists boat ride right up into the mist of the falls.
• Missing our exit off I-90, having to turn around, but not able to easily because we had to turn around due to a low clearance bridge. When we got back on track, got pulled in to a roadside inspection and got ticketed for hours of service violations.
• Picking up a load of jetskiis in Champlain, way up by the Canadian border. They were going to be delivered in Laredo, Texas.

North Carolina – I didn’t think this one would be so hard. On our first trip across country, we picked up some boards that had been salvaged from a school’s bleachers in Greenville. Backing up into their driveway was a trick. This was the same trip as the Pickle barrel planks from Delaware—they were all going to McCloud, California to a place that makes specialty items out of recycled materials. I remember driving the interstate and noting the near absence of billboards. I think they have a rule about how high signs can be. I know we’ve been through several times, and picked up loads near Raleigh, but I’m not coming up with anything else that was memorable.

North Dakota – Delivering oilfield pipe to an area outside of Williston, and construction materials to a housing development in Fargo. Talking to locals in both places about how the area is booming due to the oil business, but as a result, housing is hard to find and super expensive, as is the cost of living. Driving across the state several times—often in such heavy winds that we worried about getting blown over. Stopping at a rest area and getting a brochure about Nokota horses, learning about them and getting involved enough to make some good friends, and putting the breed in my books.

Ohio – Driving through Cincinnati while people were going to see a Redsox game, seeing them crossing the highway by walking on the overpasses. Spending a night in Gallipolis, at a Super 8 very near the bridge, where the owner (a dentist) lived on the top floor in a custom suite he’d built. Walking along the Ohio River and around town. Spending Fourth of July weekend in Mentor, walking around the mall, got haircuts at the JC Penney’s; talked to lots of locals.

Oklahoma – Driving past Lake Eufaula and making myself laugh with jokes about pronouncing the name: “I’m going down to the Lake, Eufaula, OK?” (say it like ‘you fallah, okay’.) Gambling at the Firelake casino outside of Shawnee. Picking up flint gravel near Picher, a town that was closed due to poisoned water supply from the lead and zinc mines. Seeing the giant piles of chat (flint rubble) that were left behind. Wondering now how safe it was to be hauling that bagged flint away, as it was essentially part of what led to the town being a superfund site.

Oregon – too much to share: home state. Suffice to say I wouldn't want to live anywhere else.

Pennsylvania – Visiting the US Army Heritage Museum, where we met and talked to a ‘reenactor’ for a long time. Stopping on top of I-81 before heading down into Scranton, to tarp some wood because it had started to rain. And Pittsburgh, the town I love to hate on. It is so old and...dirty. The roads are very narrow and steep, and full of crazy traffic—not a fun place to drive a truck. Getting lost going to the US Steel mill not once, but twice. Seeing it after dark with the lights reflected in the river and thinking this is the best aspect of Pittsburgh I’ve ever seen. Going through one night, trying to avoid the Turnpike, and having our way blocked by the freeway being flooded.

Rhode Island – Visiting my cousins in Westerly for a long weekend, walking on the beach, having a nice dinner at their house.

South Carolina – Picking up steel outside of Charleston, watching the sunrise over the Atlantic. Driving through Columbia–nice looking town. Having dinner with old family friends (the Eades) outside of Greenville.

South Dakota – Family Reunion at park on Lake Francis Case, near Wagner. Going to a casino for the first time to play 21 with my cousin Ann. Watching a heat lightning storm in the distance. On same trip, visiting the Black Hills, camping at Flintstone’s Bedrock City, seeing the Badlands. Standing at the Wounded Knee memorial and getting an eerie feeling that I’d been there before. Collin has stories about I-29 being shut down due a blizzard, and waiting it out in a truck stop.

Tennessee – Killing time in Loudon. We were delivering a load across the river, and wanted to find something to do, so we bobtailed into town and explored on foot. Had a great meal at a nice restaurant—the Riverwalk Grill at Carmichael Inn, and talked to locals, including at an indoor swap meet. And the joy of driving through Nashville during rush hour. Those people know nothing about driving at a steady speed, but jam on the brakes relentlessly. There are three major interstate exchanges in about 6 miles, so it is understandable, just annoying.

Texas – Oh boy. We spent rather a lot of time in Texas:

• Delivering multiple loads of hay to the Mayor of Boyd. Very nice guy. Almost claiming one of the puppies born there. (If it had been old enough, we may have done.)
• Delivering load of jetskiis to Laredo—hurrying to get in and out of town before dark, as we had been told it was not a safe place to spend the night.
• Waiting for a load out of El Paso—spending the day exploring the Cielo Vista Mall, noticing how well behaved the children were, and how relaxed the parents were.
• Delivering wine equipment to new vineyards in the Texas Hill country around Johnson City. Ran into an overhanging branch and damaged one of the pieces. Receiver was very understanding.
• Spending the night in a truck stop near Denton, listening to the thunder and lightning all night long, pretty sure there was going to be a tornado. (There wasn’t.)
• Getting frustrated first time trying to drive through Dallas on the freeway during rush hour and missing our exchange at least twice. This was the inciting incident that convinced us we needed a GPS.
• Visiting Collin’s sister in Killeen twice. Once to give her our dog, Buddy, who didn’t like riding on the truck, once to visit him after.
• Seeing the Gulf Coast while delivering to Brownsville, watching flying fish at the port we delivered at. Driving by Corpus Christie, and considering how flat everything is and what it would be like if a hurricane came through. Same trip, getting stopped by Border Patrol checkpoint, forgetting to remove my sunglasses, and having to open my door so a drug dog could sniff the entry.

Utah – Truck broke down in Provo once, had to get towed out of US 89’s canyons. Spent the night outside the tow-truck’s shop. Great people. We actually considered moving to Provo or Ogden—we like the way people walk around in town and get out and about. Got out and messed around on the salt flats at a rest area in western Utah. Loved driving through Moab—beautiful sights. Stopped once on a back road to look at a rock/hill that was very similar to the beehive sigil on the state highway signs; parked on the side of the road and walked up to see the ‘cave’ which was really just an opening carved into the side, not very deep.

Virginia – Driving over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge at night, remembering the story from my childhood about my sister freaking out because the bridge goes into tunnels that go underwater. Getting lost in Virginia Beach trying to get to the bridge—this was before we got the GPS. We went up and down I-81 so many times. Spent the night in a hotel in Wytheville; walked around and shopped.

Vermont – Delivered a load of panels for the bank’s vault in Manchester Center. We got to town a day early, and spent time walking around town, including the cemetery. Talked to locals, one woman who was walking her dog in her pajamas. There was an old grist mill next to a millpond that was being developed into a restaurant. Got some cool reflections photos. Sweet town. Also delivered a load in Burlington, and spent the night in the K-Mart parking lot. Driving up there was kinda surreal to think how relatively close we were to New York City, and yet there is hardly anything up there.

Washington – Several here, since it is close to home:

• Spending Memorial Day weekend camping on my brother’s property in Pacific Beach—in the pouring rain. (My dog Dodger wanted to go home so bad he jumped into the trunk of my car when I was loading it.)
• Driving around Mt. St. Helens post-May 18, 1980 eruption—several times, now. (Once as a kid, more times as an adult.) Exploring the Ape Caves 3-4 times, walking both the upper and lower sections. Seeing what’s left of Spirit Lake.
• Going to see the King Tut Exhibit in Seattle as a kid. Having lunch in the Space Needle.
• Driving over Snoqualmie Pass in the snow.
• Stopping at a farmer’s market in northeastern Washington—I want to say Chewelah. Buying jam and fresh bread and having a picnic lunch of fresh treats.
• Delivering a load in Everett and having time to kill, so we went to the Saturday Market at the docks, bought fresh fruit. Ate dinner at a restaurant overlooking the marina and talked to lots of people.

Wisconsin – Spending a couple nights in Lake Delton, gambling at the Ho Chunk casino there.

West Virginia – Driving the I-77 toll road up and down and up and down...under a heavy load. What a chore! Also, going through the tunnel in Wheeling to avoid the big hill on the bypass. Only suggest doing that at night in a truck—during traffic it would suck.

Wyoming – several memories, here:

• Getting “GPS lost” near Lovell and getting directed across 10-15 miles of dirt road in the snow, when we could have turned right and gone straight to the load out.
• Driving up US 20 from Shoshoni to Thermopolis, passing Boysen Reservoir and going through narrow canyons where the road has to tunnel through outcrops. In the snow. Beautiful.
• Camping with Elaine on a spit of land sticking out into Boysen Reservoir.
• Seeing a Moose near Fort Bridger. Also near Fort Bridger, picking up a couple motors from windmills at the wind farm, standing looking out across the mountains and feeling the emptiness.
• Driving in strong winds between Laramie and Cheyenne, and between Laramie and Rock Springs, hoping the truck doesn’t blow over.
• Stopping for fuel for Elaine’s Bronco in Sheridan, and getting more water than fuel. Getting stuck for 5 hours while the fuel tank was removed and dried out. Having a HUGE thunder, lightning and hailstorm pass over us. Then, back on the road, driving through the same storm. Stopping in Casper to call Elaine’s friend and having the storm blow over us again. Then driving through it again, singing the lines from U2’s Bullet the Blue Sky (“And the rain poured through the gaping wound, pelting the women and children...) and having it roll over us again while we stopped to see Elaine’s friend. (Coming in to camp in the Black Hills, seeing folks setting their tents back up and in the morning drying out sleeping bags—if we hadn’t been stopped by the fuel fiasco, we would have been there with camp already set up, too, when that same storm came through.)

    Additional Notes: I haven't mapped it for sure, but I'd be very surprised to learn I haven't traveled on at least a segment of every interstate in the country—and a high percentage of US Highways.