Vol. 4 Number 10 Oct. 2004

WHAT'S GOING ON?

I'm still slogging away at MAKE BELIEVE CURATE, which I'm rewriting for Avalon. Now, let us all pray that they will like the rewrite!

I've had to perform lobotomies on all my main characters so they would not have even a tiny memory of the offensive Mr. Alvanly. He is long gone now and completely forgotten by all of them.

My friend Jackie King has been reading chapters of the revised version as she recuperates and she swears she likes the surgically corrected new version.

Jackie King

Vickie McDonough, one of my most successful chicks, loaned me a paper bag full of Avalon books so I could examine them carefully. I was a bit disappointed that none of her books were wearing their dust covers. When I mentioned they had no dust covers she looked at me and spoke in a "can't-you-figure-this-out-on-your-own-Peggy?" kind of way.

"I never leave the dust covers on when I loan out my books. I want to keep them (the dust covers) nice."

Sure. I understood and she is right, of course, to protect her property. Dust covers in good condition add 50% or more to the value of a rare or collectible book should you wish to sell it.

"But the dust covers were what I especially wanted to see, Vickie," I muttered inwardly.But I held my tongue and thanked her with real gratitude. I enjoyed reading and looking at her books without their clothes on.

NO LONGER ADDICTED

Months ago I wrote about my addiction to the reality show called "Starting Over." My longtime friend, Modean Moon, from LeFlore County, was the only one who seemed to share my craziness. I was either staying up or getting up at 2:00 am every weekday morning to watch the stupid thing.

Then they moved the show.to Hollywood and did away with one of the lifecoaches. The one who replaced her held little interest for me. The women who came to the Hollywood house were also not so compelling. It looked as though Josie and her baby have taken up permanent residence in the house and so I quit: cold turkey.

Last night, just to check my own level of cure I stayed up and checked in. There was Maureen from the former group (Don't know what she was doing with this group of wimps) and there, of course, was sobbing Josie and baby, plus the four other females.

Hey! I really am cured. I don't care what happens to any of them. Yay!

DREAM ANALYSIS CONTEST RESULTS

Some interesting pieces came in from some good writers, so good in fact, that I was forced to choose five winners instead of four. All won books of their choice.

Winners names are listed alphabetically:

• Karen Geyer - Drumright, Oklahoma
• Carolyn Leonard - Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
• Norma McMullen - Bristow, Oklahoma
• Romney Nesbitt - Jenks, Oklahoma
• Donna Sherf - St. Petersburg, Florida

And no, I'm not prejudiced in favor of Oklahoma Writers, it's just that more Okies entered than did people from other states.

New contest next month!

SOMETIMES TITLES MAKE YOU CRAZY

Last week a TV show was advertised to be on later. It was called, ONE SHOT; ONE KILL, which is a book by one of my favorite friends, Charles Sasser. I called his house in Choteau and talked to his wife Donna. She said she didn't know anything about it but that she'd tell Chuck and if he hadn't returned from his mother's house, she'd copy the show for him.

Charles W. Sasser

I just hope she didn't bother. It was some cop show and they had taken his exact title, but the story had nothing to do with Chuck or his book.

Can they legally do that, Peggy? Oh yes. You can't copyright a title, kiddos. You can call everything you write, GONE WITH THE WIND, if you want to and no one, other than your editor, can say you nay.

Sorry about that Chuck. Hope my call didn't cause you and Donna too much disappointment.

Tiny footnote: I once actually wrote a nonfiction book about Oklahoma's weather and sold it as a work for hire. Guess what I called it? Uh huh. GONE WITH THE WIND.

MY LOVELIFE (Now, goody-two-shoes readers, is that heading better than my usual term, SEX?)

A large mirror in my bedroom fell and shattered into a million silvery shards last week. My first impulse was to rush to the desk to write the dear man who gave me the mirror more than thirty years ago, to see if he were okay.

At the time he gave me the mirror (so he could see me twice at once, he said) he loved me desperately (he said) and he proposed often. Once in awhile he still calls from California, but it has been months, now. Perhaps I should go ahead and write and assure myself he is still well and strong? What think you?

Uh huh, a superstitious Baptist pagan who has no lovelife, is what you are, Peggy Lou; is perhaps what you'll say. And perhaps you'd be right.

SEE YOU IN NOVEMBER

Hugs to all my clever subscribers. It was great to hear from so many of you. I like it when you answer back.

Love, Peggy