Pondering the world

American Media Distribution--legit or scam? Part 2

April 17, 2011:

Press credentials or not?  Phil called me yesterday to apologize for the mix-up in assignments.  He "had my press credentials as pending, and the assignment desk thought you had them." That doesn't really explain the incorrect date. Phil asked if I had decided about getting the press credentials, and I said I would have to pass on it for now.  I don't have $300 to spend on that, especially if this turns out to be a scam and I never hear from them again. He said he understands there are a bunch of assignments coming up and I would be given one real soon.

I continue to look at this a little sideways.  We'll see.

February 1, 2011:

I never heard from AMD again.

 

 

When writing fiction about a locale, at least get the facts right.

I've had a book on my to-be-read shelf for a while, so I picked it up a few days ago. 

It was supposed to take place in Albuquerque in 1879 when the railroad arrived. The original settlement of the Villa de Albuquerque was along the Rio Grande River, but the train tracks and depot were located one mile to the east. Consequently, the Villa became known as "Old Town" and the new area near the train station was called "New Town."

Unfortunately, there were so many factual inaccuracies that it became distracting and I couldn't pay attention to the story. Eventually I gave up because the plot was not strong enough to overcome the geographical errors.

Just so you know, here is the truth about Albuquerque geography in 1879:

• Old Town and New Town are both on the east side of the Rio Grande River--they were not separated by it.
• There were neither ponderosa pines nor pinion trees in Albuquerque, and there still aren't.
• The Sandia Mountains are on the east side of Albuquerque.
• There is a mesa on the west side and no plains on the east side.
• Any woman riding a horse would be wearing a shade hat the whole time, instead of leaving it tied to the back of her saddle for four hours.

In case you end up reading that book, you can fix those facts in your brain.  Good luck with the plot.

 

Careful, or you'll end up in my novel

Someday I may be a writer.  After all, I now have 607 posts on this blog!  This has become the journal I should have been keeping for the past 30 years or so, according to the advice given by my writing class instructor nearly 15 years ago.  Those who are serious about it will even get up very early in the morning to take advantage of the quiet time for solitude and contemplation, putting pen to paper and ending up with shelves full of notebooks.  Not me.  I can barely drag myself out of bed in time to hit the floor running, jump into the shower and head out the door.   I'm too impatient to write stuff out in longhand, so it degenerates into illegible scribble (even to me) fairly quickly.  But I can type like gangbusters, so this blog is my outlet.

So far, there is no great novel inside me struggling to get out.  I have no fantastic plot simmering in my brain.  To be honest, I have so little free time that when I do have some, I like to read the writing of other people. 

That's not to say that someday I won't attempt something with more length and plot than my little blog posts, but right now I'm having a pretty good time with them.  Pretty much anything is fair game for my amusement, admiration or ridicule, so be warned:

undecided about attending the Tony Hillerman writers' conference

I'm still waffling.

Last year a frequent guest and friend attended the Tony Hillerman writers' conference held here the first weekend in November.  She came back raving about it and insisted that we should both go this year.

Now it's the first week in October and I still haven't signed up.  The whole conference is three days (Fri-Sun) with a banquet on Saturday.  I've missed the deadline for registration so now the cost has gone up.  I'm having a hard time justifying going because 1) it's over a weekend when we're already really busy; 2) it's now $435; and 3) I'm not a fiction writer.  If I had a burning desire to write a novel, I'd go.  If we only had a couple of rooms occupied that weekend, I'd go.  If it wasn't so expensive, I'd go.

Most likely, I won't go.