In search of Black Hawk

Saw an interesting article in the Tribune titled In Search of Black Hawk about a reporter's attempts to follow the life (and trail) of the Sauk warrior Black Hawk, who in 1832 led his people on a quest to regain their lands. This quest became known as the Black Hawk War.

His name, often misspelled as one word, is everywhere throughout Illinois, Wisconsin and Iowa, especially along the Mississippi River -- on high school football teams and historic markers, on bodies of water and outcroppings of land, on parks, businesses and schools. Even in plural on the NHL team in Chicago.

But Black Hawk, the man, is hard to find.

He was the Sauk warrior who, in 1832, led more than 1,500 followers -- most of them women, children and old people -- into Illinois in search of his tribe's social and cultural heritage. What they found was war, starvation and massacre, and two of every three of them lost their lives.

The article was interesting to me because the Black Hawk War is a feature in my book Prairie Fire. At one point I have Natasha, my heroine, noting that although she knows the name Black Hawk and has seen it everywhere in the Chicago region, she doesn't know what it comes from.

Hopefully, someday, everyone can read Natasha's account of the Black Hawk War.

The mutual admiration society

A friend and former co-worker paid me a big compliment on his blog, Driving to Oahu, over the weekend. He wrote an entry titled You go, Haley! in which he said I impressed him with all the new activities I've thrown myself into lately, such as the glass-blowing and painting.

Truth be told, Don has always impressed me with his dedication to his music, photography, writing, self-marketing, politics and varied interests. I've always held him up as an example of perseverance.

It's a competitive world, and it's nice to know that somebody notices.

After the PGA

PGA traffic turned out not to be such a big problem from my perspective. I drove by the south end of the country club a few times during the week, and while there were police at a few intersections working traffic control, I got by fairly easily.

It was fun to see Tiger Woods win the championship again, especially after he won it at Medinah back in 1999 also.

Also fun was to read about the BBC correspondents' adventures in the area during the championship. Browse through the Medinah gossip columns on the BBC site, and you'll see references to not being able to find Higgins Road, outings playing miniature golf and unsuccessful attempts to shop at Woodfield Mall.

Lullaby by The Cure

Today's iPod selection: Lullaby by The Cure.

The spider man is having me for dinner tonight!

The beginning of the end

At lunch today, we were discussing the impending start of school for many kids next week. Mario made a statement that seemed so incredibly true, yet so sad.

Kindergarten, you're only five years old, but it's the first day of the end of your life.

Welcome to the world of commitments and obligations. Sure, there'll be summer vacations for the next dozen or so years, but the free ride is over.

Quit sulking. Now do your homework.

PGA Championship at Medinah

Practice rounds start today for the PGA Championship. I normally wouldn't care, but I have to pass the Medinah Country Club to get to the expressway to get to work. Signs pointing to parking lots have been up for at least two weeks. I have no idea what to expect this week.

I've lived within a few miles of the country club for decades through U.S. Opens and PGA Championships, but never on this side of it, which appears like it will get most of the traffic. I may have to explore alternate routes.

The PGA website has an interesting writeup about the history of the club: Medinah Country Club, a look at a golfer’s paradise.

I've only ever been in the country club once, back in high school to be inducted into the National Honor Society. The high school I attended is across the street from the country club, and the country club was always generous about letting the school use the facility for some events. My sister even got to go to her proms there. But alas, the school switched to a bigger venue the year of my first prom.

Mahna Mahna by Cake

Today's iPod selection: Mahna Mahna by Cake.

Just about the happiest, quirkiest song I know.

A day at the races

Spur of the moment this afternoon, we decided to join some friends who were heading off to Arlington Park racetrack. Even though I used to work practically across the street from it, I'd only ever been to the racetrack once, and that was many years ago.

We couldn't have asked for a more perfect afternoon. A high of 79 degrees. Seats in the shade. And both Dave and I ended the day ahead. Not significant, but our entry fees and lunches were covered.

We arrived in time for the third race. Dave and I started with the same amount of money, and decided to compete to see who ended the day better.

I intended to start conservatively but messed up on the machine and ended up betting three times what I wanted. It was still a conservative bet, but I wanted to make my money last the day. Oh well. So, go Arwen's Angel! Turns out, she did. The little filly came in first, and I was off to a great start.

Fourth race was a loss for me, but Dave had the 9/2 Mud Shark finish first. Hmm... I was still up over Dave, but he was catching.

I lost count of Dave's wins from there, but by the eighth race, I'd widdled down my winnings so that I was losing to Dave by a couple dollars.

Then, came Sunset Kisses in the eight. She pulled me back into the lead. A sweet girl.

For the ninth and final race of the day, I was going to play it conservatively, going for the favorite, but on a whim, I added a $2 bet on a 20-1 shot to place or show. This is where it got fun. By the time the race started, my 20-1 shot was a 50-1 shot (out of a five horse field). My favorite was never a factor in the race, but my No. 5 horse, Golden Blade, came out strong and stayed strong. Second place pretty much the whole distance on the turf. Never faltered. Ended strong. A 50-1 shot!

For a second-place finish, a 50-1 shot doesn't pay off nearly as well as you'd think. But, regardless, it was sweet.

And I handily beat Dave. That's all that matters. :)

I'm sure there will be a rematch at Arlington Park some afternoon. I'll let you know.

97.5 miles, five stops, two clothing changes

When we left the house Saturday morning, it looked like we were heading out of town. Each of us had a little overnight bag. We even had to arrange for someone to let the dogs out. But we were only gone 12 hours.

First stop was a memorial service up in McHenry for a step-great-aunt (or is that great-aunt by marriage?). That, of course, required dressy but somber clothing befitting a somber occasion.

Second stop was my company picnic in Wheeling. That, of course, required picnic clothing. You know, hot-weather, active stuff.

Third stop was a friend's condo in Des Plaines. It was our first time getting to meet his boyfriend from out-of-town. There, we made plans for the evening and changed into - of course - fun, night-out clothes.

Then, it was down to River Grove for our fourth stop for a long-anticipated visit to Hala Kahiki, a Tiki/Hawaiian/Polynesian themed bar that I'd heard about and driven past a few times. As I expected, the place was a kitsch palace (or should that be camp?). But it was so well done, so over the top, that it was charming. (A framed newspaper article near the front door explained that when the bar opened in the '60s, the Polynesian theme was so popular, they could buy the bamboo wall coverings in the Sears catalog.)

We sat outdoors under an umbrella next to an 8-foot Easter Island statue and across from a walnut tree. There were signs around to warn of occasional falling walnuts, which we experienced. There was a loud clang on the rooftop as the walnut rolled into a gutter, and we looked up in time to see a squirrel scurry across the roof, its walnut prize firmly in its jaws.

There was no food available at Hala Kahiki, just a bowl of pretzels on the table, but the menu went on for many pages. Tropical drinks galore. Most of us ordered variations on traditional daiquiris or pina coladas, but the turtle ice cream/alcohol concoction that our friend ordered looked and tasted amazing. In fact, all our drinks were excellent and we were enjoying the evening so much, we would have stuck around for another round, but we were hungry and we had to find some food.

That led us to our fifth stop, 100 South in Elmhurst, for some Chicago-style steaks at a 50s-style supper club. While the restaurant had a really nice atmosphere and the food was good, what I truly enjoyed was being in downtown Elmhurst again.

I worked for eight years practically next door to the restaurant, but I have rarely visited downtown Elmhurst since. It was amazing to me how the downtown continues to change. Giant condo buildings have gone up in former parking lots. Restaurants sprout from every other doorfront (even the first floor of the former Old Kent Bank). And our old newspaper printing plant is gone, the building converted to other retail uses.

Elmhurst seemed to have a public art project going on involving painted train engines all over downtown. Very cute. I could see bringing little kids around to play on them. And it's a perfect tie-in to the atmosphere downtown. (Our out-of-town guest was amazed to see two long freight trains rolling through at the same time. The joys of the Chicago area being a railway crossroads of the nation.)

After dinner and our Elmhurst excursion, our next stop was home, where we parted ways with our friends, unpacked our bags and snuggled with our dogs - 97.5 miles, five stops and two clothing changes later.

Treasures and memories

I discovered estate sales when we lived in San Francisco a few years ago. I'd be driving though the Sunset District and see a sign, and since parking was fairly easy, I'd pop in. It was a way to explore the houses in San Francisco. The row houses are just so different from the houses I'm used to in the Chicago area, and I'd love to have an excuse to go into one and poke around. I'd usually buy an old book or two, perhaps look at some of the tea cups wistfully. Mostly, it was a glimpse into someone's life.

When we returned to the Chicago area, I couldn't find the sales quite as easily. My husband and I stumbled on a good one and I bought a couple paintings for the hallway, but most of the time we were disappointed. The estate sales were often glorified garage sales in our suburban area of newer subdivisions. Someone had already gone through the exercise of purging before they moved into the house probably just a few years previously. We needed houses in older neighborhoods where people could accumulate for decades. When I stumbled on http://www.estatesales.net/, I finally started finding the sales I like. Fortunately, many are real close to my office.

I don't usually buy much, but I might. Mostly, it's an exploration into a neighborhood and an unknown person's life. Sometimes it leaves me a little bit sad.

Take the sale I went to today over my lunch break. A labyrinthine ranch house in an older neighborhood. The man obviously owned at least one, possibly more Burger King franchises. Tons (and I mean tons) of toy promotions all over the place. Boxes of Pocahontas, Toy Story, Scooby Doo stuff still in wrapping. Disney tie-ins galore. Then there were the Christmas decorations, the train models, the basement bar with the old empty liquor bottles, the military clothes in the closet, old saxophones and accordions, the vintage lace wedding dress, the boxes and boxes of romance novels - Nora Roberts, Jude Deveraux, series Harlequin - the plaque that said "I love you Nana and Papa", the tell-your-family-history fill-in-the-blank book (unwritten in, of course), the prayer books and religious paraphernalia, the dog crate in the garage and the book with the chewed-up corner (I've got one of those at home already). A lifetime of dreams and aspirations, precious collections, cherished objects.

As I explored, I created a history for these people, and I wondered about the dozens of people exploring the house with me. What were they seeing? Why were they buying what they were buying? A house to furnish? Collectibles to resell on eBay? A toy for a nephew?

I walked out of there with one $2 Star Wars Return of the Jedi glass. In shades of orange and brown, the glass depicts a scene: "In the Tatooine desert, Han Solo takes aim with his laser pistol while Luke Skywalker brandishes his Jedi lightsaber above the Sarlacc Pit. In the background, Jabba the Hutt's giant sail barge bursts into flames." I'd found it in a box in a corner of the basement.

"The missing piece of a collection?" the check-out lady asked. "No. It's got Han Solo on it," I replied, like that explained everything. How could I say that I was a writer and this character I've created has a fascination with Han Solo? I was buying it for my office - a precious possession for a person who didn't exist except in my head and on the pages of an unsold manuscript.

As I was walking down the tree-lined street back to my car, my treasure cradled in my hand, an older gentleman asked, "Did you leave anything?" I smiled. "Oh, there's plenty there. Trust me."

I wonder what treasures he walked out with. And I wonder how they are ever going to clear out that house.

There's a sale next weekend that looks especially intriguing to me, but it's pretty far away - all the way in Lakeview in Chicago. "This 2 flat has been in the family for 4 generations. Come and dig through the packed basement on a rare treasure hunt! Nothing was ever thrown away!"

Get thee, Purple Prose, out of my writing!

I've been experimenting with writing erotica (or should that be romantica?) with cowriters Grace and Destiny, and one of the big challenges for all of us has been stepping up the descriptiveness of the love scenes. We knew it would be a challenge, though, and that's one reason we decided to try it. Grace even took an online course on the topic.

The other day I stumbled on an interesting article on the topic written by author Deb Stover titled The Purple Prose Eater. It had me laughing out loud with snippets such as:

Some of the participants in my research became a little...carried away. Example? "The dragon of his desire writhed beneath his tight-stretched trousers." Ahem.

OK, I'm not guilty of anything that purple, but I know I'm comfortable with love scenes that use some of the coded language of romance novels - some of the coded langauge - as are plenty of other writers.

Truly, balancing that line between language that works and language that's just plain silly can be extremely difficult. Try it sometime. And remember, language that works for you might be plain yuck for others, especially if your audience is women. Some words are too technical, others are too crude or insulting. I've even considered taking a highlighter to a men's magazine to identify what words work for me and what don't. (Oh, the things we do in the name of craft!)

And what girlfriends don't sit around and discuss the finer points of using one word for the male "member" over another? Is one too clinical? Is it too metaphoric? Is one too... yuck?

We want to get this project rolling, and I seem to be the one holding it back at the moment (although Grace is on deadline for two other projects and this is back-burner for her). Some of the reports I'm hearing from writers who attended the RWA conference in Atlanta last month are that erotica and romantica were huge there, with a lot of the books being given away being of that genre. We'd hate to miss the bandwagon on this. But even if we do, stretching our writing muscles makes us better writers.

Romance industry trends

In author Cindi Myers' weekly market update column, she shared her impressions of market trends following the Romance Writers of America national conference last week. I found her observations encouraging for me. She wrote:

Everyone is looking for sexy romance -- sexy paranormals, sexy historicals, sexy contemporary, etc, etc, as well as erotica. Conversely, inspirational romance continues to do very well and the market is still growing. There seemed to be more interest in historicals than in previous years, even western historicals, as long as they're sexy. Jennifer Enderlin of St. Martin's is looking for a very sexy western and I heard of an author selling an erotic western historical to Harlequin's new Spice imprint. Paranormal stories are still in demand, though most editors professed to be interested in something other than vampires.

Let's see. Prairie Fire is not erotica, although I think it's fair to say that it's sexy - awards for best first kiss scene and best overall scene (for which I entered a dark-moment love scene) testify to that. Prairie Fire is a historical set in the 1830s version of the American West. While Prairie Fire is paranormal because it features time travel and elements of magic, it definitely has no vampires.

I need to get more query letters out.

Fine Italian dinner, a bottle of wine and - the Gilmore Girls?

We went to a nice restaurant last night to celebrate my sister-in-law's birthday. The restaurant just opened their new multi-million-dollar dining room/wine bar/banquet facility in full Italian villa style. The food was good, although the service still needs to work out many kinks.

What really bugged me, though, was that in their classic and elegant dining room, there was a flat-screen television mounted above the fireplace. Imagine an extensive wine list, hardwood floors with mosaic inlays, 20-foot ceilings with elaborate molding treatments, tons of marble, stone fireplace - and a television showing The WB Network.

What were they thinking? Why?

Lucy, Daughter Of The Devil

We were watching [adult swim] the other night and happened to catch the pilot for Lucy, Daughter of the Devil. Hilarious! Chick Lit meets The Omen. She's just a girl trying to make it in the big city, dating problems and exasperating, interfering father and all.

Here's the link to the episode on YouTube.

From the Cartoon Network pressroom:

Lucy, The Daughter of the Devil: What is evil incarnate to do when his daughter, Lucy, barely tolerates him and is dating a hippie DJ who could be the Second Coming? Well, first he tries to break up his daughter's new relationship by unleashing the dogs of hell, then he probably watches a little TV and goes to sleep early. Lucy, The Daughter of the Devil, created using CGI animation, comes from Loren Bouchard, producer of Home Movies and Dr. Katz: Professional Therapist, and stars Jon Benjamin (the voice of Coach McGuirk on Home Movies) as the Devil. Ten episodes are in production. The series will debut in late 2006.

I'm hoping the next episodes live up to the promise of the pilot.