I So Don't Do Mysteries - A 3 Ring Review

Time to once again do a book review. If you missed my explanation on my style of 3 book review you can find it here, where I reviewed the novel, One Mississippi. I plan to do this same style of review for every book I read this year. I'm off to a slow start, but here is book #2 for 2009, Barrie Summy's, I So Don't Do Mysteries.



Most of you probably know Barrie as she is a fabulous blogger, a frequent commenter here, and a My Town Mondayer. Add talented author to that list.

I So Don't Do Mysteries by Barrie Summy

published in 2008 by Delacorte Press.

3 Reasons you might like this Book

1) Sherry Baldwin, the first person protagonist of I So Don't Do Mysteries. Sherry is a great character with a great vice. It is impossible not to like her or root her on in all of her pursuits. But she does have enough flaws to make her real. Like any teenager her view is a bit warped and the parent in me wanted to ground her a time or two but a very believable and likable character.

2) The premise. I've never been a big paranormal fan but this book might change my mind. Sherry is contacted by the ghost of her mother and urged to solve a mystery. Along the way both Sherry and her mom uncover more than clues. Some of my favorite sections were when the two of them are dealing with things originally left unsaid.

3) San Diego. As I said, Barrie is a regular My Town Monday participant and many of her post have been about San Diego. Many of the places she's blogged about make appearances in I So Don't Do Mysteries and on a personal level that made me enjoy the book more. I enjoyed the little tidbits of knowledge I had thanks to her post that enhanced the facts she doles out in the book. It added to the package and made a good read all that much better.

3 Reasons you might not like this book

1) You are a narrow-minded doofus. Okay that sounds harsh, but some will bypass this book because it is written for preteens. And even preteen boys might skip this one simply because it has a female protagonists. That is insane. A good story is a good story an if you are a preteen boy you might wanna read a few things like this to help you gain insight into the inner-workings of that girl you fancy's mind.

2) You hate to figure out the who dunnit until the last page. Okay I'll admit it I had 70% of the end pegged fairly early on, but that didn't detract from my enjoyment one iota. I am fairly astute at picking up clues and as a writer I look out for foreshadowing so this is not unusual for me.

3) Teenage angst grates on your nerve. This book captures it well and feels very realistic, but if you are annoyed by the fact that teenagers do not always prioritize well and tend to focus or worry about the wring thing then you won't like it when Sherry worries about the gravel in her aquarium matching the paint, or when complains about a blister on her foot instead of focusing on the case.

3 Lines beginning with the 3rd sentence on page 33 of the novel.

But that thought opens up a whole new future career path. I'll be a scientist that invents a pill that turns heartache into a brief bout of gas. You fart, and you're immediately better, immediately over being dumped.

Visit Barrie here, buy the book here, or at a book seller near you. You won't be disappointed.

Random Socializing

I'm going to start this post with yet another thought that first occurred to me while reading the brief thoughts of others on twitter.

How come everyone is always complaining about the crack of dawn. In one day, I read tweets that said things like ... my kid woke me up at the ass crack of dawn ... I can't stop yawing because I had to clock on at the butt crack of dawn ... Why are my neighbors loudest at the crack of dawn.

Dawn's backside gets more attention a whole swarm of plumbers derrieres. Even if you throw Ol' Joe and his butt in the mix.

All I can figure is that Dawn is one of those gals whose G-string is always showing thus creating all this attention.

But what about the beer gut of noon? Or evening's shaggy beard? Not once have I ever heard someone say, It was way past midnight's receding hairline before I got to bed last night.

If you too want to have these kind of mind opening discoveries sign up to twitter and read all the little tidbits of others lives. Yeah, it may be pointless at times but it is interesting. My twitter page can be found here.

Speaking of social networking sites, if you are a Facebooker or no anything about the site you have to watch this hilarious video.



And yeah I do have a Facebook as well, so look me up there as well.

But my favorite social site has to be, Goodreads. On this site you can see what books your friends have read and what they thought of those books. I have discovered some really good novels by checking out the rating of people who have enjoyed some of the same books I have. I don't have as many friends as I do on the other sites but just today women's fiction author Jennifer Weiner befriended me. Sure she has 673 other friends but I like to think I'm special. Seriously, I love Jennifer's books (Good In Bed, In Her Shoes, Little Earthquakes) and it made me smile to see she'd added me as one of her friends.

And thanks for all the great comments on my Amazon Breakthrough Novel pitch posts. The deadline is creeping closer and I'm still tweaking but for those interested here is my current version of the 300 word pitch.

Hank Zybeck never dreamed he'd become an outlaw. Then again, he never thought he'd have to work for a scoundrel like Junior Habershaw.

Hank has yearned to visit the Caribbean for so long, he can practically taste salt in the air, but his wife, Rachel, doesn't give a damn about his lifelong obsession with the islands. Her idea of exotic is Branson, Missouri, or The Mall of America, so no way is she going to traipse off to a foreign country only to get sand in her bikini. After thirteen years of marriage, Hank hasn't given up changing her mind, but when Junior takes over the Red Dirt, Oklahoma Ford dealership where Hank works, vacation destinations become the least of his worries. Junior is a skilled salesman himself, but he'd rather use his talents talking women into the backseat. And the woman he wants most just happens to be Hank's wife.

Junior hatches a plan to steal Hank's wife, job, and friends. Disregarding his foe, Junior even ridicules Hank for his lifelong pirate obsession. Anne Bonney, the Caribbeans most infamous female buccaneer spoke these final words to her condemned lover, “ ... if you'd fought like a man, you needn't be hang'd like a dog.” In this tale of misadventure, Hank sets out to prove that he's no dog, but even he doesn't know how far he'll go for the sake of love and the chance to live out his Caribbean dreams.

Plundered Booty is a comedic mainstream novel that blends the first person narrative style of a Kinky Friedman novel, with the laid back vibe of a Jimmy Buffet song. It goes well with either a cigar or a margarita, but don't lose that shaker of salt. You may need a few grains.

And I challenge you to come up with a new time of day/body part analogy. But creating one is the easy part what I really want to see is you use one of these phrases and then report back how it was received once you tossed it out for public consumption.

I'm Alive

I've never been much of a Kenny Chesney fan. That whole, She Thinks My Tractors is Sexy song turned me off from him in the very beginning, but then he started doing duets with Uncle Kracker, Kid Rock, Jimmy Buffet, and Willie Nelson. He also began writing more of his own material and incorporating an honest laid back island vibe to his music, so I slowly came back around to at least respecting him as an artist. Even though mainstream country music rubs me the wrong way on the whole.

Then the other day I heard a song of Chesney's in which Dave Mathews joins him. The lyrics struck a chord with me for obvious reason. Especially the second verse.


So damn easy to say that life’s so hard
Everybody’s got their share of battle scars
As for me I’d like to think my lucky stars that
I’m alive, and well

It’d be easy to add up all the pain
And all the dreams you set and watch go up in flames
Dwell on the wreckage as it smolders in the rain
But not me, I’m alive

And today you know that’s good enough for me
Breathing in and out is a blessing can’t you see
Today is the first day of the rest of my life
And I’m alive, and well
I’m alive, and well

Stars are dancin’ on the water here tonight
It’s good for the soul, and there’s not a sole in sight
But this motors caught it wind and brought me back to life
Now I’m alive, and well

And today you know that’s good enough for me
Breathing in and out is a blessing can’t you see
Today is the first day of the rest of my life
Now I’m alive, and well
Yeah I’m alive, and well



Good songs are like good books. They reach inside a person and affect them. This is why one person can love a book and the next person will hate the same book. I'm as guilty as anyone of discounting a musician or an author simply because their song or story failed to resonate with me, but sometimes your perspective changes and suddenly you are viewing the world from a different angle.

I am alive, and I am well, and I am going to keep writing until I find that one agent or editor that connects to my writing in a way that prevents them from saying no. Might be tomorrow or ten years from now, but that will be good enough for me.

Show Me -- A My Town Monday Post

This will not be the most detailed of My Town Monday posts, but hopefully in the coming weeks I'll have more time to research and get back in the groove. For this week I'm going to give MTM a more personal slant and take y'all for a trip down my memory lane.


This past weekend the Potter County Junior Livestock show was held at the Amarillo Tri-State fairgrounds. This is a yearly event where 4H and FFA kids bring the animals they've raised for the sake of competition. Steers, Swine, Sheep, Goats, and Rabbits.






Once upon a time I was one of those kids, and as I walked around the stock show this weekend the memories were plentiful.

I remembered how the rough texture of a griddle brick left my fingers tips raw and sore as I used it to groom my pig.

I remembered being so tired from all that work involved that I didn't think twice about climbing inside my hog's pen and using him for a pillow when I wanted to catch a quick nap before showtime. (For the record the pig had been bathed using this oh so fragrant hand soap called Fast Orange so there was no smell.)



I remembered the friendship and camaraderie before and after entering the show ring.

I remembered the competitive tunnel vision I felt once in the ring.


I remembered the sense of pride when my animal placed high, the sense of regret for the work I should have done but didn't when it didn't place so well.

As I thought back on those days, I realized that many of the lessons I learned back, still apply today. Raising and showing animals is about responsibility, dedication, hard work, and just rewards.

Then I remembered how mad I used to get when one of my fellow competitors back-doored their way into success. Some of their parents did all the work while the kid did nothing. Some times a particular judge would have a blindside for the cute little girls with ribbons in their hair, or the cute high school girls with tight fitting Rockies. Some parents spent a fortune buying animals for their offspring and bought success for their kids.

My family never had the funds for that and my mom was too busy trying to earn a living as a single parent to get up at six in the morning and bust ice out of my animals water trough. I never looked good in either a hair bow or a pair of tight fitting Rockies, so yeah, I hated to see others find success through those methods. But guess what, that too taught me a few things about the nature of the world. Life isn't rarely fair but all you can do is plug along and do your thing.

And I was fortunate to do okay. I've blogged in the past about my success showing pigs. I only hope that some of the kids I saw showing this weekend will find the same kind of success and look back as fondly on their show experience as I do.

And if you've never attended one of these shows, look up the dates for your area and check one out. Most parts of the country have some sort of FFA or 4H program and the kids that put the work in for months on end deserve accolades.

Here's a shot of SPOT, the recipient of my most recent tattooing efforts.


And for those of that missed my post back in 2007 about my pig showing experiences, here is a picture of yours truly as a rosy-cheeked high school senior, circa 1991.


Chris and Junosmom have done a stupendous job of keeping My Town Monday alive in my absence and I really appreciate their efforts and if they so choose, I want them to continue listing the links as well. Way I figure, the broader exposure for everyone who participates the better, but please drop me an email or a comment if you post so I can get your link up. And Chris and Junosmom, I understand that a good deal of work goes into keeping up with the links so please don't feel obligated.

LINKS TO OTHER MY TOWN MONDAY POSTS

Jenn Jilks --Flaps her wings in Muskoka, Ontario, Canada.
Cloudia -- Shows us a few great things about Hawaii.
Barrie Summy -- Does a bit of BUMming around in San Diego, California.
Mary Nix -- Takes us through the woods at Olmsted Falls, Ohio.
Debra -- Warms things up with a look at the Village of Peninsula, Ohio.
Junosmom -- Is chugging along about her Kentucky town's hidden secrets.
Chris -- Rings in the Chinese New Year from ... you guessed it Hong Kong, China.
Kristina -- Posts from the wrong side of the tracks in Kentucky.
Barbara Martin -- Is quacking this week about Toronto, Canada.
David Cranmer -- Freely admits he's the second most famous person from Freeville, New York.
Chuck -- Takes us between the lanes in his Kentucky town.
Terrie Farley Moran -- Settles in at North Fort Myers, Florida.
Patti Abbott -- Rings the bell of truth about a movie set in her town, Detroit, Michigan.
J Winter -- From the comfort of his Cincinnati, Ohio home J tells us what he won't do for My Town Monday.
D -- Jumps aboard the My Town Monday train with an introduction to Cloquet, Minnesota
Passage Of Woman -- Does her part to preserve a bit of Kingston, Tennessee.
Lauren -- Offers up a look at Chicago, Illinois wild side -- The Lincoln Park Zoo.
Wendy Pinkston Cebula -- Dishes up a post on Springfield, Missouri

Strike Two

I like this one better, but I'm still three words over. And thanks for all the great advice. I've incorporated what I knew how.

And if you have no idea what I'm rambling on about Please read my previous post before you read this one.

Plundered Booty Pitch Version 2.1

Hank Zybeck never dreamed he'd become an outlaw. Then again he never planned to work for Junior Habershaw.

Junior could convince water to run uphill. A good trait to possess when you inherit a Ford dealership, except Junior considers selling cars a waste of time. He'd rather use his talent coercing women into the back seat. And the woman Junior wants most -- just happens to be Hank's wife.

Hank has been married to Rachel, his high school sweetheart for thirteen years. He bested Junior to win her affection once, but things are different now. Junior is bold, reckless, and loaded, thanks to his inheritance. Matter of fact , Junior is exactly like the pirates Hank is always reading about. For the last decade, Hank has satisfied his need for adventure with tales of Caribbean piracy and the history of the islands. He's longed to bask beneath the tropical sun and sip rum-filled drinks, but Rachel isn't about to traipse off to a foreign land and get sand in her bikini. Not when she could stay right her in this country and visit exotic locales like The Mall of American or Branson, Missouri.

Hank's hometown of Red Dirt Oklahoma is far cry from the white sands of the islands, but when Junior pillages his life, Hank is forced to fight for his dreams. That, or walk the plank. Anne Bonney, history's most infamous female pirate, once said to a lover headed for the gallows, “ ... if you had fought like a man, you needn't be hang'd like a dog.” Discovering there is more than one kind of plundered booty, Hank sets out to prove that he's no dog, but even he doesn't know how far over the edge he will go for the sake of love and the chance to live out his Caribbean dreams.

And of course, any and all comment and critique are appreciated.

Wild Pitch

I'm sure most of you have heard about Amazon's Breakthrough Novel Contest. If not check it out, but the deadline is February 2nd and along with the manuscript you have to send a 300 word pitch. I've struggled to get mine right. Giving enough of an idea what Plundered Booty is about, while capturing the comedic style of the novel, and making it all intriguing has been difficult. Here is what I think is my bet version so far, but I feel it still has problems So read and tell me what you think. And please be truthful, because I'm not afraid of some good honest tough love.

Plundered Booty Pitch

Hank Zybeck is no risk-taker. In all of his thirty-seven years, he's loved but one woman, -- Rachel, his high school sweetheart and wife of thirteen years. Worked at one job – selling cars for Habershaw Ford Lincoln and Mercury. And dreamed of one thing – to visit the Caribbean. But Rachel refuses to strike out for a foreign land only to get sand in her bikini. The Mall of America, Branson, Missouri, that's her idea of exotic, and Hank isn't about to rock the boat by going without her. For him, eating out and ordering anything but chicken fried steak is a daring move.

Yet, his free time is spent reading about the legendary pirates that once prowled the Caribbean, Bartholomew Roberts, Stede Bonnet, Blackbeard. Hank knows them all in great detail, but he never dreamed that he too would become an outlaw. Not until Junior Habershaw inherited the dealership and forced Hank to shift gears on his Sunday-drive of a life.

Junior is the kind of guy that can convince water into running uphill. A natural born salesman, he considers talking people into buying cars a waste of time. He'd much rather use his talents talking women into the backseat and the woman Junior wants most, just happens to be Hank's wife.

Under siege from Junior, Hank remembers history's most infamous female pirate, Anne Bonney and the last words she spoke to her lover, “Calico” Jack Rackham “ ... if you had fought like a man, you needn't be hang'd like a dog.” In this tale of a man pushed to fight back, or walk the plank, Hank sets out to prove that he's no dog, but even he doesn't how far over the edge he will go for the sake of love and the chance to live out his Caribbean dreams.

By the way I'm two or three words over so cut where you can.

And don't hesitate to comment even if you are not a writer. All help is appreciated and sometimes a readers eye will catch things those of us who write do not see.

Ink Spot

Prison tattoos are a long way from the fancy artwork you see on Miami Ink. Shy on color these inside jobs are usually pretty basic, a teardrop near the eye, words scrawled across the knuckles. Sure there are some more elaborate crosses and things but given the limited resources and the fact they artist has to do his work in concealment prison tattoos are rarely as well done or fancy as their parlor counterparts.

Yesterday I gave the redneck equivalent of a prison tattoo. No, not to a person, (though I've done that before as well) but to a rabbit.


MOMMA TRIED TO RAISE #3 RIGHT, BUT PETER "PINK-EYE" COTTONTAIL LED HIM DOWN THE WRONG BUNNY TRAIL -- NOW HE'S DOING LIFE FOR SMUGGLING LUCKY RABBIT'S FEET ACROSS THE BORDER

My old high school Agriculture sciences teacher (FFA) called me up and said he had a student who had a show rabbit and wanted to enter it in the local stock show but she didn't really know all the particulars. once upon a time I raised and showed rabbits by the hundreds so I went and checked out the long eared hopper. And one of the things it needed was a tattoo. Show rabbits have to have some permanent identification inside their left ear.

So I ground a metal rod down to a point, grabbed some India Ink and went to work. Making a series of small holes in the rabbits ear, I spelled out SPOT and then rubbed the ink in and now the rabbit is marked for life. I resisted the urge to ad a teardrop to the bunnies eye, but he looked like a killer to me so it just might end up with one yet.

Back when I raised rabbits I had a fancy tattoo set and in high school I gave more than one idiot friend a tattoo on his arm. I could only do letters and numbers so these tattoos were always some girls name. Sadly the ink lasted far longer than any of the relationships.

This post is not really going anywhere but being back at my old high school yesterday and doing a bit of inking conjured old memories.

And in true Cliff Claven style, here is a bit of worthless trivia. Did you know prison tattoos started in Australia. Most people know that the land down under was once a British Penal colony, but did you know England used to tattoo the convicted to further their shame. Such as a D for a deserter, or BC for Bad Character. The prisoners would then tattoo themselves to disguise or cover up the letters.

I have to tattoos myself, but I've always said I'll get one once I sell my first novel. Whatever novel that may be the ink will in someway represent the novel. As I've said before, Should get interesting if Plundered Booty becomes my first novel.


So tell me about your ink.