Valentine’s Day in Colorado:
Valentine’s Day in Texas:
Both are pretty darn good, eh?
I recently visited with another book group that read Blue Straggler, and I always love it when I hear how animated and passionate readers are about the characters in the novel.
This particular conversation revolved around Adam and Rudy — two very different male characters in the story — and which one of the two was more likeable as a long-term romantic interest for Bailey (and for the book group members …).
And then one of the members asked me who MY favorite character in the novel is. That’s a pretty tough question. After all, I created them all and they lived in my head with me for a very long time before the story was complete and out in the world. It’s kind of like asking me which of the many dogs I’ve had in my life is my favorite. I’ve loved them all in different ways. I can’t pick. Ever.
I will say, however, that I plan to write a sequel to Blue Straggler, and Rudy will have a big part in it. Because I think I might miss him the most.
Now – your turn. If you read Blue Straggler, comment below and let me know which character in the novel was your favorite and why. I’ll choose a winner based on which comment I like the best. (I’m queen of this little world/blog, you know.)
Best part: Winner will receive a signed paperback copy of Blue Straggler – in its original 2012 cover (those are in limited supply, baby!)
Now, don’t let me down. Comment away!
Here’s a recap of the some of the characters for you:
Bailey — Directionless female protagonist approaching 30; uses self-deprecating humor to deal with life; enjoys Cool Whip and alcohol on frequent occasions; can’t keep a relationship longer than it takes milk to expire in the fridge
Rudy — Bailey’s best friend since college at Texas A&M; will kick your ass at Jeopardy; Bad at dating and financial management.
Idamarie — The third and oldest member of the friendship triangle; shells out good diner food and mostly good advice. Fourth-generation Texas woman with the hair and sass to prove it.
Adam — Moody mountain man with a beat-up Jeep and heart, plus a lot of dogs and a barn for rent.
Francis — Coffee shop owner and Bailey’s first friend in Colorado. Nice Southern accent.
Stella — Feisty mail carrier and mayor of Gold Creek, Colorado. Don’t look at her prosthetic ear.
Tuck — Tow truck driver, originally from Texas, now living in Gold Creek. Has a Jesus bobblehead on his dash.
Bailey’s Mother — Enjoys throwing backyard parties and yard sales, and berating Bailey. Co-owner of family’s fiberglass cow business.
Bailey’s Father — Rancher. Values beer, old outlaw country, gambling, and good dogs.
Lawrence — Librarian with Skills.
Weasel – Bailey’s cat she believes is out to get her.
Willie and Waylon – Bailey’s family’s dogs
WHO WILL YOU CHOOSE?
And by Big Cat, I mean THIS.
My latest observation …
Denver Foothills people: Wow, a mountain lion. How big? Male or female? Adult or juvenile? Be sure to knock on your neighbors’ doors to tell them. Bring your dogs and children inside for two weeks. Be on the lookout and report all evidence!
Colorado Mountain people: Yep. Heard him last week on my roof at 2 a.m. Went outside, heard him hiss at me, went back to bed.
Texas people: Honey, where’s the camera and my gun?
——————————————————————–
By the way, I wrote about my own encounter with a mountain lion once for my now-defunct online mountain living column. Here’s an excerpt, for posterity.
I think I’ll always remember his stare. His black-brown eyes locked on the front end of my car and didn’t flinch. The muscles along his jaw moved, but his face and eyes did not. He didn’t glance away, not once. His ears didn’t move, either, as I thought they might. His tail was black-tipped and as long as his body, and it switched back and forth, as he seemed to be considering his options. It reminded me of how a house cat might swish his tail before pouncing on a toy mouse. I actually wondered at one point if he might lunge toward my Subaru.
His face was sharp and angular and surprisingly small compared to the rest of his body. A black line continued from his nose to his mouth, and combined with his long whiskers, he looked like he had a thin, handle-bar mustache. His stance was slightly crouched as he looked at me, his sleek body lines sloping to the back feet. He was wary of me, but there was definitely a sense that he was in control.
It seemed like five minutes or so that we stared each other down. I thought about fumbling for my camera phone, but that seemed somehow wrong. Besides, one movement on my part would have shortened our time together, I think.
Finally, with a swift decision, he leaped from the right side of the two-lane road to the left. And in one long and graceful jump, muscles rippling under his tawny fur, he disappeared into the brush and trees leading to the creek behind our home.
Afterward, as I continued along the road toward our house, I shivered a bit, literally, thinking of all the times my husband, son and I have walked that same path along the creek. Had he been there any of those times, after grabbing a drink from the water, watching us? Swishing that tail?
In some ways, I kind of hope so. After all, he’s one of us.
———————————————
[photo credit – St. Mary’s College of California]
It’s been three weeks now, and I’ve had only one Dr Pepper in a moment of weakness. And here’s the thing. It’s not getting easier! I still crave it like crack. When will this end? I need a patch. (And it’s a helluva good thing I never got addicted to Virginia Slims.)
Current Problems of Life Without Dr Pepper (not an exhaustive list):
Eating a burger today without Dr Pepper was like eating warm, freshly baked bread without real butter. It just shouldn’t be done.
Dr Pepper is a connection to home; it’s the national drink of Texas (unofficial). Without it, I’m a tad bit unanchored. And trust me, no one wants to be around me when I’m unanchored.
Coke is not a substitute. Neither is Root Beer. And don’t get me started on juice.
Water tastes like … nothing. Adding lemon makes it takes like lemon-nothing.
Coffee makes me speak really fast in meetings and pee too often. And I can’t drink it past 5 p.m. or I’m up all night craving Dr Pepper (and peeing).
Tea tastes like grass. Not the good kind.
I’m having to go to bed early just to keep myself from going to the SitNBull Saloon down the street to get a take-out Dr Pepper from the mean biker-bartender. Note: I don’t even think they have takeout cups, but I could bring my own. The biker-bartender would love that, I’m sure. I can see the look on his face right now.
Drinking vodka and wine at the same levels as I was drinking Dr Pepper is not advised by the American Medical Association.
My old stand-by comfort foods just aren’t the same without my refreshing, fizzy DP. Now, when someone asks, you want to go to Noodles? How about a bowl of chili? I say, eh.
The real kicker? My husband has quit Dr Pepper, too. And weight is dropping off him like <insert good metaphor I can’t think of right now>. Me? I’m gaining weight. Because in my sick little head, if I can’t have DP, then I’m damn sure gonna have pie and peanut butter.
I started this blog in early 2012, at the request of my publisher. I’ll admit I was worried about it. I’d written a weekly online column before, but that was different. This was a BLOG, something I’d resisted for years. Would I have time to blog and blog well? Would people (other than my mother) care enough about what’s going on in my head to read it? And what in the hell would I write about?
Well, I haven’t kept up with the blogging schedule I’d hoped for, but I have written a few fun pieces. Below, I’ve featured links to the 10 most popular posts, just in case you missed `em. Even I enjoyed rereading a few.
Oh, and just to recap this AMAZING year in publishing for me (because that’s what you do on New Year’s Eve-Eve) … after becoming an Amazon bestseller in the spring and summer, Blue Straggler (released as an ebook in August 2011 and in paperback in March of this year) remains in the top 30 in sales and customer ratings in comic fiction on Amazon. It hit #2 again right after Christmas and #5 in a different category (humor). Pretty cool. Or rather, a huge dream of mine come true. A Good Kind of Knowing was released in ebook in October and in paperback earlier this month. It made it to the #10 spot in its category (fiction/drama) on Amazon and remains in the top 30 in ratings. It also made the top 100 in customer ratings in literary fiction. Whew. That’s as good for this writer’s soul as crab legs, cheese biscuits and a Bahama Mama from Red Lobster.
I’m so thankful to everyone who has supported me this year and always. Having my work touch just a few people would’ve been satisfying. But this kind of success has been overwhelming. Thank you!
Now on to those posts, and here’s to 2013, y’all!
#1 Our Dogs Are Going to Get Us Kicked out of the Neighborhood
#2 Saying Goodbye to My Dream, or the One-Year Experiment With Normal Living
#3 And This Is Why I Hate Dental People
#4 Friends Are Worried About My “Girls”
#5 What Happened When I Turned 30 …. and 40
#6 What Being a Texas Woman Means
#7 How Growing Up With Country Music Made Me a Better Writer
#8 21 Facebook Posts You’ll Never, Ever See From Me
#9 Open Letter to High-Fructose Corn Syrup
#10 Your Official Music-to-Read-By Playlist 
We flew home for a quick holiday visit to South Texas this past weekend. As always, it was great to see my family, wear sandals and shorts in December, and enjoy my mom’s awesome cooking.
Mom made 12 pies at last count, and I think I ate 10 of them. We’re talking pecan, peach, lemon icebox, lemon black-bottom … mmmmm. We had her famous chili and beans for our “Christmas” lunch, along with homemade tamales. She also made all of her traditional cookies, and Dad barbecued my favorite sausage for me. It was all delicious, and I’m pretty sure I gained 10 pounds in three days, as evidenced by my jeans getting tighter and tighter each day. Ask me if I care!
The best quote from my son since we’ve been back was: “It sure is hard to come back here after eating at Grams’ house.” Which did not go over well, as he said it while eating a dinner my husband had cooked.
During the Texas Christmas gathering, we also enjoyed another rousing singing competition we call “Harris Idol.” My favorite moment was when the whole kid gang (minus my nephew who preferred to go deer hunting instead) sang Feliz Navidad as a finale, with all their hearts, even the parts they mumbled. It was priceless.
I don’t care who you are. This is funny.
There was the usual craziness in Texas, too, of course: We played our traditional Christmas Lights Game and some Unnamed People cheated badly. There was a strange Santa Claus toilet seat cover involved, dating back to the 1960s. My parents’ dog hid behind the couch a lot. I encouraged my kid to write “Wash Me” on my sister’s dirty prized Cadillac, which in hindsight might’ve been a mistake. We opened presents one at a time (to make the fun last longer) and there was disagreement as usual over whose turn it was. My son got a youth-size power drill. (And I’m totally on board with it. After all, he asked Santa for wood.) The usual country music CDs and knives and handheld spotlights were given and received. There were a few disagreements here and there, some harsh words may or may not have been spoken at one point. I was enjoying Hazelnut Martinis, so I’m not the best judge.
My son wants his own goats.
My son, by the way, loves Texas even more than I do. He cried for a long time at the airport — so much so that I truly think some people assumed I was abducting him. The only way I could get him to stop was to talk about all the things he’d do once he moved to Texas, which he plans to do as soon as he graduates from high school (as long as I come with him). He says he will attend Texas A&M (good boy), build his own log cabin on my family’s land, dig three water wells so he won’t run out of water, and drill one oil well so he won’t run out of money. He wants 10 dogs, three goats, three milk cows, five beef cows, one rooster, some chickens for eggs, and a pig. Also he will have three horses, and I get to ride one of them. The other two are his. And he plans on having several tractors because they are always breaking down. He’s got it all planned out — has even sketched out how he will design his log cabin. When I was his age, I’m pretty sure all I cared about was my Lite Brite and Raggedy Ann doll.
On a much sadder note, Newtown happened while we were home, too. Like so many people, there were entire moments when I couldn’t breathe when I heard the news. Could. Not. Breathe. But I couldn’t let myself get too vocal about all that I was feeling while I was home — I didn’t want to ruin Christmas with my family, a lot of whom are supporters of the NRA and who believe guns don’t kill people, people kill people.
Just typing that old cliché upsets me, actually. To me, that’s like saying (and I’m stealing this from a Twitter feed) chickens don’t lay eggs. People with chickens lay eggs.
But here’s the thing. We as a nation have to do something. Something is terribly wrong in our society. The easy availability of assault weapons — weapons designed and manufactured to kill — is part of the problem. I believe that with every ounce of my being. It’s not the only thing wrong, but it’s a large piece of the puzzle.
So I say this: Please, please, let’s have some rational discussions about assault weapons. Let’s demand a plan of action from our leaders.
Please.
For the sake of every little soul who was killed, for every parent who waited at that firehouse for their baby … who never came, for the children and adults who lived through the massacre and now have to go on with those images and emotions forever embedded in their brains and hearts, for our own children.
And to all those who say it won’t help to ban assault weapons, I say this: Maybe it will. It’s a start. And what if it COULD help? What if it could save one child’s life? It’s worth a try. Slippery slopes, be damned. Can you look a parent in the eye whose child was shot 11 times and say you are worried about losing your right to own a hobby gun?
That’s all I want for Christmas. For us, as a nation, to act on this.
In the meantime, I wish all of you, no matter where you stand on gun control issues, a warm holiday with your families. Tell everyone you love that you think they are pretty great. Make sure that every friend and family member knows that if they are ever feeling so completely hopeless that they want to take their life or others’ lives, that you are there and you will help them. Tell them that killing is never the answer. And to every family who lost someone to a mass shooting this year, I pray for your hearts to heal. And I’m not even the praying kind.
Sending love and peace to all.
Today is a first for me — both of my novels are just 99 cents (ebook/Amazon Kindle version). A sale of epic proportions!
Not sure yet how I feel about it, since obviously the royalties on these sales wouldn’t even buy me a can of Dr Pepper or a scoop of Cool Whip. But the more readers, the better, right?
So there you go. This is a one-day sale on both titles, so get it while the getting’s good. (Texas translation – hurry and buy them while they are on sale.)
And thanks to every person who has read either of my novels. I’d add in a “mwah!” but that may be over the top.
I’ve always loved to listen to good music while reading a good novel. And since the love of music, and its universal calling, is a central theme in my latest novel, A Good Kind of Knowing, I wanted to develop a playlist for readers to have on hand while reading the story.
In the book, the artists and songs mentioned range from outlaw country to early jazz, from Ella Fitzgerald to George Strait, from music made in the 1920s to lyrics penned in the 1980s. In the following playlist, I’ve taken liberties to include some current-day music, as well. But mostly, I’ve carefully chosen music for each chapter based on the mood of the characters and the pacing of the plot. In many cases, the songs listed here are ones the characters themselves are listening to in the storyline; others are ones I remember listening to when I wrote these very chapters and scenes.
I sincerely hope you enjoy this playlist as much as I enjoyed putting it together.
PS: If you don’t want to pay for all these tunes by downloading them into a “real” playlist, most can be found on youtube for free.
A Good Kind of Knowing — A Novel by Kathy Lynn Harris
The Official Music-to-Read-By Playlist
Chapter 1
Pretty Paper – Willie Nelson
Chain of Fools – Aretha Franklin
Amarillo by Morning – George Strait
Wasted Days and Wasted Nights – Texas Tornadoes
Everyone Will Crawl – Charlie Sexton
Speed of the Sound of Loneliness – Nanci Griffith
I Gotta Find Peace of Mind – Lauryn Hill
Sugar Plum Fairy – Duke Ellington
Walkin’ After Midnight – Patsy Cline
Silver Wings – Merle Haggard
A Good-Hearted Woman – Waylon Jennings
Chapter 2
Working Man – Merle Haggard
Faded Love – Bob Wills
Should I Come Home or Should I Go Crazy – Gene Watson
Old Time Rock and Roll – Bob Seger
Resistance is Futile – Steve Coleman
I Won’t Dance – Frank Sinatra
Regalame un Besito – Laura Canales
How Blue Can You Get – B.B. King
Chapter 3
Angel from Montgomery – John Prine and Bonnie Raitt
Lover Man – Charlie Parker
Summer Skin – Amy Cook
Can`t Let Go – Lucinda Williams
Chapter 4
Rainy Days And Mondays – The Carpenters
Someday – Steve Earle
Bruises – Train featuring Ashley Monroe
Chapter 5
(Sittin’ on the) Dock of the Bay – Otis Redding
Black Coffee – Ella Fitzgerald
Blue Moon – Billie Holiday
Chapter 6
Brown Sugar – Rolling Stones
Who’ll Stop The Rain – Credence Clearwater Revival
Kentucky Waltz – Bill Monroe
Chapter 7
Rainy Day Woman – Waylon Jennings
Blueberry Hill – Fats Domino
Fishin’ in the Dark – Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
California – Joni Mitchell
Lost Highway – Hank Williams
Understand You – Lyle Lovett
Chapter 8
Lullaby – Johannes Brahms
Sharp-Dressed Man – ZZ Top
Ain’t No Way – Aretha Franklin
She Thinks I Still Care – George Jones
New Life In Old Mexico – Robert Earl Keen
Chapter 9
Sunday Kind of Love – Etta James
A Love that Will Never Grow Old – Emmylou Harris
Chapter 10
If I Had You – Benny Goodman
That’ll be the Day – Buddy Holly
Runaway Train – Roseanne Cash
Chapter 11
Sunday Morning Coming Down – Johnny Cash
Desde Que Conosco – Freddie Fender
Down to My Last Cigarette – k.d. lang
A Soft Place to Fall – Allison Moorer
Chapter 12
I Don’t Wanna Fight – Tina Turner
Members Only – Bobby “Blue” Bland
Blues for Dixie – Asleep at the Wheel featuring Lyle Lovett
Yesterday – Gladys Knight & The Pips
Days Like This – Van Morrison
Wings Upon Your Horns – Loretta Lynn
Chapter 13
Sleepy Cowboy – Yonder Mountain String Band
Whoever’s in New England – Reba McEntire
Linda on My Mind – Conway Twitty
Chapter 14
What a Wonderful World – Louis Armstrong
Take Me Down – Kelly Willis
Don’t Be Cruel – Elvis Presley
Heaven – Los Lonely Boys
Original Sin – Elton John
Even Cowgirls Get the Blues – Rodney Crowell
Dim Lights, Thick Smoke (And Loud, Loud Music) – Vern Gosdin
Mr. Record Man – Willie Nelson
Chapter 15
I Am A Town – Mary Chapin Carpenter
Rose of My Heart – Johnny Cash
Sittin’ Here Drinkin’ (Whiskey Blues) – Muddy Waters
Chapter 16
The Weight (Take a Load off Annie) – The Band
Windows Are Rolled Down – Amos Lee
Chapter 17
Simple Gifts – Jim Brickman
In The Mirror – Yanni
Before the Next Teardrop Falls – Freddy Fender
Down on the Rio Grande – Johnny Rodriguez
Chapter 18
Bad Moon Rising – Credence Clearwater Revival
Forever Mine – Hank Crawford
You Are the Best Thing – Ray LaMontagne
Ball and Chain – Big Mama Thornton
Chapter 19
A Woman Left Lonely – Janis Joplin
Mary Jane’s Last Dance – Tom Petty
Chapter 20
Meet Me in Montana – Dan Seals & Marie Osmond
Hound Dog – Elvis Presley
Help Me Make it Through the Night – Sammi Smith
Chapter 21
If Wishes Were Horses – Lucinda Williams
Peaceful Easy Feeling – The Eagles
Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man – Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty
Texas River Song – Lyle Lovett
Chapter 22
Christmas for Cowboys – John Denver
I’m Coming Home – Zydeco Hurricanes
To Make You Feel My Love – Garth Brooks
When I Call Your Name – Vince Gill
November Rain – Guns N Roses
Chapter 23
Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain – Willie Nelson
A Picture of Me Without You – George Jones
Chapter 24
Losing You – John Butler Trio
Lovin’ Her Was Easier – Kris Kristofferson
Someone I Used To Know – Patty Loveless & Jon Randall
Lucky Now – Ryan Adams
Chapter 25
Sweet Dreams – Patsy Cline
Chapter 26
Silver Wings – Merle Haggard
Chapter 27
Blue Guitar – Earl Hooker
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas – Ella Fitzgerald
These Arms of Mine – Otis Redding
Sitting In Limbo – Jimmy Cliff
Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground – Willie Nelson
Into the Mystic – Van Morrison
THE END
Thanks for reading, and listening. Email me if you’d like a Word doc or PDF of this list – kathy [at] kathylynnharris dot com.
Well, first I’ll get the mountain-snob snarkiness out of the way: It’s just plain weird to me to put up a Christmas tree in Colorado when there is no snow on the ground, no howling wind outside your door, no traipsing through knee-deep drifts to find the perfect tree, no fire burning in the wood stove. You get the picture. That was always our life when we lived at the top of a mountain. And I loved everything about it.
Down here in the foothills, we put up our tree today, and it was 60 degrees and not a flurry in sight. I wore shorts. We got our tree from a commercial seller. It was too warm for a fire in the fireplace. Blah, blah.
But there are a few things that didn’t change. First, we made kettle corn to munch on while we decorated our tree (Grand Fir, $34.99. Ooops, snark returns.) We played Christmas music (on Pandora instead of CDs – hey, you can’t stop progress). And we pulled out all the same ornaments we use every year.
And that’s when I always start to miss my grandmothers, both of whom have passed away, so bad it’s a downright physical thing.
My grandmothers (Mammaw on my mother’s side, and Granny on my dad’s) could not have been more different, but I have such great memories of time spent with them both at the holidays.
I’m lucky that we lived fairly close to both of my grandmothers, and that both liked us girls to help them decorate for the holidays after Thanksgiving.
With Mammaw, it was fragile glass ornaments and shiny, gold-beaded balls she’d made herself. It was a pristine white angel with real feathers as wings as the topper. Some years, it was a full, lush tree flocked with fake white snow. It was white lights and a silver-trimmed tree skirt, probably bought from a department store. It was Eddie Arnold on the stereo. It was quiet and beautiful.
When my grandfather passed away (Mammaw left us years earlier), my mom shared some of Mammaw’s ornaments with me, and I cherish them. There are a couple of delicate antique ornaments in gold and red and silver, and two of her ornaments she decorated herself with old jewelry and tiny sequins and pins. They are as classy and lovely as she was. And they make me miss her so much. Our conversations. Our games of cards. Her Thanksgiving turkey and dressing. Her walking around with that kitchen towel on her shoulder as she cooked holiday meals. Her long, lean, soft hands that, as she got older and sick, she’d ask me to hold.
And then there are the items I have from Granny that take me back to the holidays at her house. She was a ranch woman, but she also loved to crochet. Those rough, calloused hands were like magic when it came to yarn. I have crocheted icicles and snowflakes she made – their hangers are old bread ties in green and red and blue. I specifically bought big, round, frosted bulbs this year to put on our tree, based solely on the fact that she had some similar on her tree every year. (They were from the 1960s, I swear, and we often worried that they’d get so hot, they’d catch the tree on fire.)
This is what a mesquite tree looks like, for you non-South Texans.
And her tree! Oh, I loved Granny’s approach to her tree. It was usually just a cedar tree we’d cut from the pasture, lopsided and wispy and perfect. She didn’t have a tree stand; we’d just plop the tree trunk in a bucket and fill it with rocks to hold `er steady. Ornaments were mostly handmade by either her or us kids. We always added store-bought tinsel of some kind, and red-and-white candy canes. Lots of multi-colored, twinkling lights were a must, too. She’d hang mistletoe up (real mistletoe, people!). Plus she had some plastic pine garland we’d hang over the entrance to the living room, from the dining room. With fake red berries. There’d be nails up there from the year before to tuck the garland behind, or we’d just use scotch tape.
After we decorated our tree today, we made cookies as a family, and I found my Granny’s old recipe for Cherry Cream Delight, which is basically just Cool Whip, a can of cherry pie filling, cream cheese, and graham crackers. Man, I loved that stuff. And I think I’ll be making it this year.
It’s nice to have my grandmothers’ things around me during the holidays, since I can’t have them here with me anymore. But what I wouldn’t give to, just one more time, hear Granny say, “No need to rush off now,” late on Christmas Eve, or to hear Mammaw shooing us out of her kitchen on Christmas Day.
Miss you both.
What do love most about your grandmothers and the holidays? I’d love to hear about others’ memories, too.
Yes, I only put Black Friday in the headline to attract people to this site. (Ha!) I’m not above tactics like this.
Seriously, to continue in my quest to provide readers with music to read A Good Kind of Knowing (my latest novel) by, here is a great song to listen to while reading Chapter 16. And it’s a favorite of my son’s, too, so of course I had to feature it here.
Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!