I will try to do as much of the Festive Tasks and Reading as I can, but my focus for the next four weeks has to be on my artsy fartsy stuff.
At our meeting yesterday afternoon, my artists' group finalized plans for another Studio Tour in the spring, which is a very good thing, in my estimation. Though it's still five months away, I have several other shows in the interim and I need to prepare for them.
The next is in two weeks, then another two weeks after that. It's time to ramp up inventory production now that the weather has cooled off and I can spend more time in the studio.
My Dashboard is completely frozen and empty.
I've posted in Bug Reports and I've sent email to Kate@booklikes.
Disclosure: I acquired the Kindle edition of this book when it was offered free on Amazon. I do not know the author nor have I ever communicated with her about this book or any other matter. I am an author of adult fiction and general-interest non-fiction.
I read this book for the Festive 16 Tasks Bingo game, Square #1 – Calan Gaeaf:
Book themes for Calan Gaeaf:
Read any of your planned Halloween Bingo books that you didn’t end up reading after all, involving witches, hags, or various types of witchcraft –OR– read a book with ivy or roses on the cover, or a character’s name/title of book is/has Rose or Ivy in it.
Within the first few pages, I knew this wasn't going to be a five-star book, or even four-star. By the time I reached the end of the first chapter, it had dropped all the way down to two stars. Eventually, I would slot it at 1.5 stars for BookLikes, and I have to say at this point that I have not read any other reviews of the book. This is solely my impression after reading it cold the first time, then rereading to write this review.
Let's start with that first chapter.
Theo Eldridge is a louse. The author projects that image of him very well. He leaves his home (or whatever) in a yellow Hummer, and he is bent on revenge and hurting people. He's drunk and gets kicked out of the local bar. A few scenes later, Theo's companion Willy Neff drops Theo off back at the bar, with no mention of why they were in Willy's old pick-up and not the yellow Hummer. Only later – after I've re-read the preceding dozen or so pages to figure out what I missed and in fact I didn't miss anything – does the author drop in that oh, gee, Theo locked his keys in the Hummer.
This might not be such a big deal except for the fact that author Grandstaff provides a big Foreword in which she explains that this is the revised 10th Anniversary edition, cleaned up and fixed up for reissue. Say what???
The rich guy is hanging around with the poor guy . . . Why? And why not provide some explanation on the spot that Theo had locked his keys in the Hummer?
Eyes are starting to roll. Mine.
So then Theo gets murdered, and we start meeting the rest of the people in Rose Hill. . . . Where is Rose Hill?
Rose Hill is the town after which the book is titled. It must be important. Yet the author never tells us where it is. West Virginia? Colorado? Texas? South Dakota? I have no idea.
Believe it or not, this is important. Readers want to be able to "live" where the characters live, and different areas of the country, of the world, conjure certain images. And if they don't, then the author needs to write in a way that enables the reader to conjure the images the writer wants. References to fracking, to environmental issues, to a small college in the town, to mountains and valleys are all nice, but they aren't enough. They apply to the states I mentioned above, as well to others. So where is "Rose Hill?"
Author Grandstaff never identifies the state or even the region explicitly. The first clue comes on page 48 when Police Chief Scott Gordon opens Theo's mail and there are statements from a bank in Pittsburgh. I missed that clue, however, because I was so stunned that virtually all of Theo's financial dealings were on display in one day's mail. All his bank statements. Contracts from a real estate deal. Major legal threats to one of his most lucrative businesses. And so on. I just rolled my eyes again at how convenient – how contrived – that was.
Was it also bizarre that the police chief would be opening the deceased's mail without a lawyer present? Or something like that? Well, that crossed my mind, too. And made my eyes roll again.
I didn't connect with the Pittsburgh thing until Chief Gordon goes to the city where Sean Fitzpatrick works to deliver some letters. Sean's office overlooks the "three rivers," and it's only my baseball fandom that tied the scene to Pittsburgh. I couldn't tell you what those rivers are, but I know the Pirates used to play at Three Rivers Stadium.
Later there would be a few more references to Pittsburgh, confirming more or less my suspicion that Rose Hill is in the mountains of western Pennsylvania.
It shouldn't have been that difficult! And of course, wondering about it detracted from my immersion in the story.
So by the time I finished the book, I had more or less confirmed the locale. Great!
The story starts on "Saturday," and the rest of the chapters follow the days of the succeeding week. But when is that Saturday? Fall? Winter? Spring? Summer?
On page 6, there's a reference to a "freak thaw" in January. What does that mean, exactly? What does it mean in terms of the location? What preceded the thaw? Lots of snow? Lots of ice? What the hell is the weather like?
This is all important, because there's a lot of driving up and down the mountain roads. One of the main characters, Maggie Fitzpatrick – sister of the aforementioned Sean Fitzpatrick – drives a VW bug. This is NOT the kind of vehicle that would routinely trek through heavy snow safely, especially on winding mountain roads. How desperate would a character have to be to risk driving a light-weight passenger car through a blizzard on mountain roads?
Characters have to act logically within the framework the author builds for their personalities. This can be as simple as mentioning that Theo Eldridge locked his keys in his Hummer because he was rich and used to being careless and on top of that he was drunk and angry, and then he had to bum a ride from loser Willy Neff which made him even angrier. So if Maggie Fitzpatrick drives her VW bug in a mountain blizzard, she needs appropriate motivation for that kind of risky behavior. Does she normally engage in risky behavior? Or does she have a desperate, but unusual motivation for behaving out of character?
One of the problems with developing the characters is that author Grandstaff has so damn many of them. Soooooooo many. Way too many to keep track of in a novel this short.
Theo Eldridge is the rich boy creep murder victim.
Willy Neff is the loser who becomes Theo's companion
Patrick Fitzpatrick is the sometimes bartender at the Rose and Thorn. Patrick is described as having a passion for anything Irish.
Maggie Fitzpatrick is Patrick's sister
Ed Harrison is the newspaper owner who discovers the body
Tommy is the 12-year-old who delivers Ed's papers and may have witnessed . . . something
Mandy Wilson works in the bar and she's Tommy's mother. She also works in the bakery owned by Maggie Fitzpatrick's mother, Bonnie.
Scott Gordon is the chief of police
Sarah Albright is with the county sheriff's department, but I can't remember exactly what her job is. She has the hots for Scott big time
Skip and Frank are the police deputies
Phyllis Davis is Tommy and Mandy Wilson's neighbor in the trailer park. Phyllis works in the local diner
Billy is Phyllis's violent and worthless son
Pauline Davis is Phyllis's mother, I think, but I'm not sure. Pauline also works at the diner.
Hannah Campbell is Maggie Fitzpatrick's cousin, but I don't remember exactly the genealogy. Hannah is the local animal control officer and is into animal rescue big time.
Sam Campbell is Hannah's war veteran husband. He's a cyber security expert
Andrew "Drew" Rosen is the new veterinarian in town
Mitchell Webb is Maggie's employee at the bookstore-and-coffee-shop she owns.
Margie Estep is the postmistress.
Enid Estep is Margie's mother, disabled by rheumatoid arthritis.
Eric Estep was Margie's father and former fire chief of Rose Hill
Ava Fitzpatrick is Maggie's sister-in-law, married to Brian Fitzpatrick. Ava has two children and runs a B&B.
Brian Fitzpatrick is Ava's husband and Maggie's brother. He disappeared several years ago.
Sean Fitzpatrick is another of Maggie's brothers. He is an investment banker (I think) in Pittsburgh.
George Bradley "Brad" Eldridge was Theo's younger brother. Brad drowned when he was fifteen, supposedly as an accident but maybe murder and maybe suicide.
Gwyneth Eldridge is Theo's sister, a vicious snob who never gets anyone's name – or even the name of the town where she herself grew up – correct in spite of numerous corrections.
Caroline Eldridge is Theo's other sister, who is a perpetual do-gooder, currently in Paraguay on some kind of medical aid mission.
Gail Godwin was Theo's cleaning lady and maybe sort of housekeeper/cook.
Bonnie Fitzpatrick, Maggie's mother (and Sean's, and Brian's, and Patrick's), owns a bakery and is married to Fitz Fitzpatrick.
Alice Fitzpatrick, Hannah's mother, is married to Curtis Fitzpatrick, I think, but I not sure.
Sharon Gordon, Scott's ex-wife
Marcia Gordon, Scott's whiny, over-bearing merrily-martyred mother
Gladys Davis, Marlene Thompson, Alva Johnston are some of the "scanner grannies" who use their illegal police scanners to listen in on cell phone calls in Rose Hill and spread gossip. Gladys Davis is apparently Pauline Davis's mother-in-law
Owen, the former veterinarian whose practice Drew Rosen purchased
Mamie Rodefeffer, wealthy elderly woman whose family used to own a local glassworks
Richard "Trick" Rodefeffer, local Realtor and descendant of Mamie, I think.
Sandy Rodefeffer, Trick's wife
Curtis Fitzpatrick, owner of local service station, brother of Ian and "Fitz" Fitzpatrick.
Ian Fitzpatrick, owner of the Rose and Thorn bar, I think
Delia Fitzpatrick, Ian's wife
Doc Machalvie, local physician
Knox Rodefeffer, another member of the glassworks family and current bank president and coin collector. Trick's brother.
Courtenay, Knox's secretary
Tim MacGregor, Maggie's maternal grandfather, Bonnie's father.
King Fitz Fitzpatrick, Maggie's father
Anne-Marie Rodefeffer, Knox's pill-popping wife
Stuart Machalvie, local pharmacist and Doc's brother, also mayor of Rose Hill
Peg Machalvie, local funeral director, Stuart's wife, and alternating with him as mayor
Claire Fitzpatrick, Ian and Delia's daughter, Maggie's cousin
Matt Delvecchio, owner of local grocery store
Lily and Simon Crawford
Cal Fischer, firefighter and water rescue diver, and illegal deer hunter
(Stuart MacHalvie is big on his Scots heritage, as one of the "few" Scots in the area. Someone with the name "Scott Gordon" would have to be one of them. And there are comments later on about the Fitzpatricks being Scots, because Bonnie – mother of Brian, Sean, Patrick, and Maggie – is half Scots herself.)
These are most of the characters who have major parts to play in this short novel. Believe it or not, I had to read the damn thing twice just to get these characters more or less straightened out. The first time through, I couldn't even begin to follow the story half the time because I didn't know who anyone was.
To make matters worse, too many of the characters are one-dimensional. Theo is a complete jerk, with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. His sister Gwyneth isn't much better. Hannah is one of the saints, Maggie is another, with Scott Gordon and Sam Campbell (aha! Another Scot!) not far behind. There's no depth to the characters. Phyllis is awful, so is Billy. Oh, wait a minute. So is Knox and so is Stuart Machalvie. Peg Machalvie is right up there with them. As a result, none of them come across as fully human.
The only one amongst that whole cast who does have some substance is Ed Harrison, the owner of the little newspaper. He alone has a bit of a character arc. He alone has good points and bad points. He alone seems to have some wisdom.
The plot is fairly simple, though it has numerous complications due to the various complexities of the characters and their interactions: Theo gets murdered and someone has to figure out who did it. Very little time is actually spent on the search for the killer, though there's a lot of effort spent exploring Theo's background, which just about everyone in town knew anyway. In the end the killer is revealed to be pretty much the person you'd expect it to be: there were no major revelations about anyone. What surprises did come out of the murder and identity of the killer were surprises to other people.
There were quite a few holes in the plot, however. And here comes a major spoiler.
That's the end of one major spoiler.
There were lots of other things that didn't make sense but are less spoilerish.
The crime scene, which is the veterinarian's office, is blocked off with yellow police tape. The veterinarian himself has to have a police guard when he goes in to get supplies to continue his practice on a house-call basis.
Theo's house, which is apparently some kind of lodge, is also wrapped up in crime scene tape, but there's no police presence guarding it. But it's not a crime scene. Is that normal? To have the victim's house sealed but not guarded? It didn't make sense to me.
Minor spoiler as a result.
Okay, end of that spoiler.
So there are too many characters to keep track of and the plot has some major holes. If the writing had been stellar, it might have carried what was otherwise an ordinary story. The writing is weak and couldn't carry a dandelion seed.
Author Grandstaff tells far more than she shows.
Maybe it's her style, and I as a reviewer have no right to tell her how to write. But my review is still my opinion.
She intersperses longish sections of unattributed dialogue with longish sections of very dull narrative. Here's an example of the dialogue:
During Drew’s recitation of the events of his day, Scott did not interrupt him until he mentioned Theo stopped in his office.
“What did he want?”
“He heard I had a stray black lab and thought it might be one of his.”
“How did he seem?”
“Same as always,” Drew shrugged, “rude, impatient, insulting.”
“Theo’s a client?” Sarah asked.
“He has a dog breeding business, and pays me a certain amount per month to provide medical treatment.”
“Does he take good care of his dogs?”
“I haven’t seen any evidence of abuse,” he said.
“Ever heard about any abuse?”
“I think Hannah may have heard complaints about him. She keeps an eye on all the animals in these parts. She’d deal with it if there were.”
“Any chance the lab you neutered could have been one of Theo’s?”
“This lab has a huge white star on his chest.”
“The standards for purebred labs allow for a small white spot on the chest, even though it’s not desirable, but this guy has a huge splotch. A breeder wouldn’t want to replicate that.”
“Was he satisfied the dog was not his?”
“No. He demanded to see the dog, and got pretty loud. I had other patients waiting so just to get rid of him I told him the dog wasn’t on the premises. He argued with me for a few minutes, then left.”
“Did you feel threatened at all? Physically, I mean.”
“I have a second degree black belt in Taekwondo, so I feel confident in most situations. If you stand up to bullies like Theo they usually back down.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“He said he ought to beat the hell out of me. I told him I didn’t think violence solved anything between civilized people, but I was certainly willing to defend myself, so he cursed me and left.”
Grandstaff, Pamela. Rose Hill (Rose Hill Mystery Series Book 1) (pp. 15-16). Kindle Edition.
There are three people in this conversation – Drew, Scott, and Sarah. We are told that Scott enters the conversation and there's a single speech tag that indicates Sarah asked a question. But from then on, there are no tags to indicate clearly who's speaking, nor are there any stage directions to give the reader an idea of how each speaker reacts to the others' comments. The snip above is roughly two pages long; three more pages follow, just as lacking in tags and action.
At the opposite end of the spectrum are the passages where Grandstaff tells everything without showing a thing. When Scott goes to Pittsburgh to interview Sean Fitzpatrick, the scene could have been dramatic and emotional; it's instead bland and flat.
Scott was glad to see Sean, whom he hadn’t seen in almost fifteen years. The youngest son of Fitz Fitzpatrick looked like a more refined, compact version of his brother Patrick. His dark curly hair was cut short. He was polished and sleek, and much thinner than his brother, who although muscular and strong, had gone a little soft as he approached middle age.
Sean greeted Scott warmly with a handshake, and invited him into his glass-walled office, which featured a panoramic view of the famous convergence of the three rivers. Once seated, Scott asked him what he knew about Theo’s death and Sean said Maggie had told him the details. Scott gave him the envelope Maggie sent, saying they were retirement fund forms, and detected a defensive wall sliding smoothly into place as soon as he did so. Scott had debated the whole way there whether or not to open the envelope, but in the end had decided to trust Maggie.
Grandstaff, Pamela. Rose Hill (Rose Hill Mystery Series Book 1) (p. 125). Kindle Edition.
Another scene struck me as particularly in desperate need of a good editor.
Scott could hardly believe his good luck. Instead of lounging around, Scott pitched in and mopped the kitchen for her while she took a shower. He went to the front room to wait for the kitchen floor to dry. Maggie had multiple photograph albums and he went through them, ostensibly looking for pictures taken around the time Brad died, but also to look at pictures of Maggie.
Grandstaff, Pamela. Rose Hill (Rose Hill Mystery Series Book 1) (p. 71). Kindle Edition.
To begin with, this is kind of creepy, his going through her photo albums without her permission. Yes, they're friends, and yes, they've known each other virtually all their lives. But still. . . . it was creepy. And it would become creepier later, when another cache of photos is discovered and another voyeur identified.
But what follows immediately upon the paragraph of Scott's exploring the photos are thirteen paragraphs describing the photographs. Of the thirteen paragraphs, ten began with "There were" or "There was." Two of the other three began with some reference to "the album." In all of this description, the author provides virtually no reaction from Scott. This is just plain weak, ineffective writing.
I struggled through all this because I didn't want another DNF. The plot was okay in terms of the mystery itself; the solving of it had some major holes that could have been fixed. The writing was weak but not terrible. The cast of characters seemed like an endless parade. The other minor plot holes set the eyes to rolling – leaving the annoying spouse to freeze in the blizzard isn't always fool proof, and there was probably some kind of contract that allowed the college president to reside in the mansion – but they, too, could have been fixed. (Rose Hill, for all its cast of hundreds of townspeople, does not include any of the college staff and only a handful of the 800 students, nor any of the ski resort visitors who bring in substantial business and cash to the town.)
The overall effect was not encouraging of what might be to follow. The author stated that this was a revised, cleaned up version of the first of the Rose Hill series. The rest of the books appear to be titled after streets in the town, all of them named after flowers. I'm just not in the slightest encouraged to read any of them, even if offered for free. I can't imagine that they are any better than this more polished version of Rose Hill, and if they are any worse, my walls might not withstand the impact with my Kindle.
1. Be Honest.
If you give a bad book a good rating because you want to keep getting free books to review, that's okay, but at least let your followers know that it's all about you and you don't really care about readers.
2. Be Honest.
If you give a bad book a good rating because you just can't bring yourself to hurt the author's feelings, that's okay, too, but at least let your followers know that it's all about the author and you really don't care about readers.
3. Be Honest.
If you give a bad book a good rating because you think all books are wonderful and you can't tell the difference, that's okay, too, but at least let your followers know that it's all about fluff and you really don't know enough to care about the reader's experience.
4. Be Honest.
If you give a bad book a good rating because you don't know how to identify the flaws, that's okay, too, but at least let your followers know that you don't know what you're doing and you don't care enough about the reader's experience to find out.
5. Be Honest.
If you give a bad book a good rating because you just want to be a positive person whom everyone likes, that's okay, too, but at least let your followers know that it's all about YOU and not even about books, let alone readers.
6. Be Honest.
If you give a bad book a good rating because you're a writer, too, and you want everyone to like you and like your book in return, that's okay, too, but at least let your followers know that it's all about you and your book and not about them at all.
7. Be Honest.
If you give a bad book a good rating because someone paid you to do so, that's okay, too, as long as you make it very clear to your followers that you were paid and it's all about the money, not the reader.
8. Be Honest.
If you give a bad book a bad rating because it's poorly written and you don't think your followers would like it, GOOD FOR YOU!
The 2017 Studio Tour is over. The post-mortem can begin.
When the group that would become known as Artists of the Superstitions began the current incarnation of the Studio Tour in 2007, we had about 10 members. Not all of them participated in that first event; many of the non-members who did that first Tour eventually became members. Six of those original members are still in the group, but I know at least two of them have not been in every tour since then. That leaves four who potentially have been on the map (literally) for all eleven Tours we've put on.
I'm one of the four.
From 2007 to 2017, I've been on every single Artists of the Superstitions Studio Tour. Always in the same place, in my front garden under the big mesquite tree with the pretty view of Superstition Mountain.
I am there from the opening bell to the closing buzzer. I love this event and I would not willingly miss the chance to chat with customers even if they don't buy anything. (And most don't, to be sure.)
Two years ago, I received a complaint sharp reprimand from one of the other AOTS members because, he alleged, I had "closed up early" on the Tour. His complaint was that someone came to his studio further along the map than mine and told him that they had stopped at my studio but it was closed. I told him they must have been mistaken because I never never never close early. Never.
Instead of that being the end of it, he passed along the complaint to other board members. Despite my providing written evidence that I had not, in fact, closed early, I was later accused by two other people of having done so. Why? This made no sense.
Every year, there are mystery visitors, the ones who drive up and stop, but never get out of their cars. Obviously, I never know why this is. Sometimes they come into the driveway and back out; other times they pull off to the side of the road and stop, then drive on. I always figure they've seen my set-up out in the garden and for whatever reason they've chosen not to visit. Oh, well, that's the way it goes. I shrug and appreciate all the folks who DO stop.
This past Saturday, I had a great day. Customers were in the driveway on the dot at 9:00 a.m. I made a big sale at 10:30, and had to bid farewell to one of my favorite pieces, though I know it will go to a good home.
(It's Brazilian Agate, in case you're wondering.)
Because I'm the first studio on the list for the Apache Junction part of the Tour, I expect a flurry of visitors early, and then tapering off, with another flurry in the early afternoon. That's exactly how Saturday went, with of course the occasional mystery visitor who doesn't stop. I ended up with a satisfactory take on Saturday and looked forward to an even better Sunday. For some reason or other, I have always sold more on Sunday than Saturday.
After closing at 4:00 Saturday afternoon,I packed up the valuables, went out to dinner, came back and dealt (successfully) with my back spasms. On Sunday morning I was all set to repeat.
I put up the pink "ART TOUR" sign at the end of the driveway, where it always goes, with its almost invisible arrow pointing in toward the property.
This is the view of my driveway, looking due south, from Google maps as taken in May 2011. At the lower center of the picture is the pile of rocks on which I place the pink "Art Tour" sign with its arrow pointing into the driveway. (My house is on the left, not visible behind the trees. ON EDIT: I'm pretty sure that's the big mesquite tree on the center left; the Google view has a weird but wide angle.)
Anyway, that's the view the Tour visitors see when they approach my studio.
This is a slightly zoomed in shot, obviously from Google. Again, the entrance to my Studio. (The signs on the gate, left by previous owners of the property, are "Beware of Dog" and "Private Property." The latter seems to mean nothing, as people are constantly thinking the driveway is a road. It actually used to be depicted as such on Google Maps until I got them to fix it.) For the two days of the Tour, both of the front gates are swung all the way open to the inside; the drive is wide enough for two pick-up trucks to park side by side.
The inner gate beyond it is a rolling gate, and it stays closed. There's nothing for the Tour beyond that gate. Never has been. During the two days of the Tour, that gate has always been closed.
Though it's not readily discernible from the Google Streetview angle, the outer swing gate does not block the footpath leading to the left. Even so, most people park outside the swing gate, either in the driveway or along the side of the road, and walk in, coming down that path to the left and thence to my set-up under the big mesquite tree. The edge of that tree is visible to the far left on the second photo. It's a huge old tree that provides a perfect shady spot for my tables.
The path winds through the "garden," and is lined with rocks and cactus and agaves and yuccas. People approaching the display set-up notice the unusual cactus plants -- especially the numerous "spruce cone" specimens -- and the large, unusual rocks that I have on display.
A roughly basketball-sized chunk of rainbow obsidian, positioned to catch the sunlight.
A slightly smaller chunk of chrysocolla sitting atop an ironwood log. (That's a cinnamon dot cactus, in bloom earlier in the spring.)
I should go outside and get some photos of the spruce cones. Maybe later. Oh, wait. I have some older photos. Hang on a sec.
Photo is from 2009, in the spring with flowers. But I think you can see how the main part of the plant looks like an unopened pine cone. The new growth breaks off very easily and roots itself wherever it falls. I have dozens of these darn things, and often put a few pieces in a paper bag to give to folks who seem interested.
Anyway, as people walk down the path toward me, I can hear them talking so I can greet them when I arrive. They remark on the cactus -- and ask what the heck those weird ones are that look like pine cones -- and the rocks and what a beautiful setting I have under the tree and what a marvelous view I have of the mountain.
And then they look around at my "stuff" and sometimes buy some of it.
That's how it has worked through ten and a half AOTS Studio Tours. Until yesterday.
I had a reasonable morning. Sunday mornings are historically quiet. Remember, I've done eleven of these things, so I have some record of how they work. I had some customers around 10:00 and they bought a few small things, and then . . . nothing.
Nothing, that is, except lots and lots and lots of mystery visitors.
Sometimes they just slowed down and then drove on by. Sometimes they pulled up along the side of the road before they drove on. But the ones who flummoxed me were those who drove into the driveway -- several came all the way right up to the rolling gate!! -- and then backed out and left. They never got out of their vehicles. They never did anything.
I should have kept track of how many there were, but at first I didn't think anything of it. There are always a few like that. But as the day wore on and I had no customers at all, I began to wonder what the heck was going on. I wasn't doing anything different from any of the other Tour Sundays.
Around 2:00, some more customers arrived. They drove in just like normal, got out, walked down the path, looked around and chatted a bit but didn't buy anything. That's okay, too. I greeted them with all the enthusiasm I greet everyone; my back wasn't bothering me and even though I hadn't made any big sales, I was having fun. I always do. I thoroughly enjoy the Studio Tour.
At 2:40, BF returned home after a day of socializing and watching football. (He is NOT into artsy fartsy.) He opened the rolling gate and drove in to park his vehicle, then closed the gate again, after which he went into the house to let the dogs out.
While he was in the house, a car drove into the driveway all the way up to the rolling gate. I was standing where I usually stand under the mesquite tree. After a few seconds, the people in the car backed all the way out to the street and drove away.
BF then let the dogs out and came outside to ask me what that was all about. I told him it had been happening all day. I said, "Gee, maybe they expect me to be standing at the entrance with a tray of canapes and glasses of champagne?"
He said, "Maybe they do."
Over the next several hours, while I waited for the Tour to wind down to 4:00, and while we then packed everything up and put everything away -- and my back started to scream louder and louder -- he said he thought maybe people couldn't see to where I had the actual exhibit under the tree. I argued that while that was possible, why had it never happened before? Why so many people this year who missed the path and/or just didn't look around?
Two weeks ago, we had a landscape company come in and trim the trees, including the big mesquite, so the display area would be clear and visible. (The tree is ancient, and it is probably slowly dying of old age.) People have always been able to see the exhibit before. No one has ever told me, "Gee, it's hard to see your stuff from the driveway." They just park, get out, and come down the garden path. (ha ha ha ha ha.)
I suspect -- and maybe this is just personal bias on my part -- that the Sunday shoppers are those who went to the Gold Canyon part of the Tour on Saturday, and do the Apache Junction segment on Sunday. More of the GC studios are "suburban" in nature -- the artists have homes in the upscale housing developments of GC and either literally open their houses as their studios, or set up their displays on patios or porches or suburban-type yards. Mine in the wilds of AJ isn't quite as nice and neat, and maybe they come into the driveway and expect to see everything on one of the patios inside the gate??? [[shrug]] I don't know.
Maybe they go on to the next studio on the map and see a cluster of "guest" artists at an upscale home and think they didn't miss out on much by skipping mine? Again, I don't know.
I don't have a fancy house, and I'm not a painter with big canvases and lots of prints to display on vertical grids. I play with rocks. My jewelry doesn't lend itself to big displays. It is what it is.
I don't have the space to add a bunch of "guest" artists, and what does that accomplish anyway? It's supposed to be a studio tour, where the visitors get to see where the artist actually works. It's not a party -- or it's not supposed to be -- where you invite a bunch of artists from Mesa or Eloy or Show Low to set up their wares and you all have drinks and taquitos and make merry. But that's what some of our studio hosts have chosen to do, and they want to raise the limit of how many "guest" artists they can have.
Does that make any sense? If the purpose of the tour is to showcase the artist in his or her studio and working environment, what does it accomplish to have five or six outsiders?
Oh, well, I'm just showing my bias again, as usual.
I love my setting. I love my view and I love hauling out all my rocks and showing off the bigger specimens in my yard and talking about where I find my rocks and what it takes to turn them into gems.
It would make no sense to me to pack up all my shit and haul it to someone else's studio just for the sake of getting more traffic. (I'm not sure that would happen anyway, since I've always had good traffic here.) Then I'd lose the effect of the garden path and the rocks and the cactus and the view. I'd also be limited as to how much space I would have, since I'd be sharing with who knows how many other artists.
So, no, I'm not leaving my studio.
Can I put up another sign, inside the gate, that points to the path? Of course I can. And since we have another Studio Tour planned for the spring -- that in itself is another long story and I'm not holding my breath -- I will make sure I have pink signs inside the gate that direct visitors to the area under the mesquite tree.
After I collapsed in agony in bed last night around 8:00, I contemplated the situation and still came to the conclusion that there is only so much one can do to counter the stupidity of people. I've done this event for eleven years and no one has ever said anything to me about not being able to find or see the display area. I've had good sales every year and great sales a couple years. After Saturday's sales, I expected to do at least as well as I've done in the past. I had no reason to think otherwise.
I ended up doing a lot less than expected. I also ended up in horrible pain, which has for the most part been alleviated with 13 hours in bed and more ibuprofen than I care to think about. I'm sitting on the heating pad again, and trying to figure out how I'm going to manage all my future shows without winding up a total cripple.
All the table covers are washed and dried; I have two of the five yet to fold and put away. The studio itself is a worse catastrophe than ever and I despair of ever making any order out there. I took in less than half of what I anticipated based on previous years' sales, so I have to take a close look at my budget over the next few months. And there's another show in less than three weeks, to which I will have to haul my tables and tubs of inventory. I'm hoping maybe I can enlist BF's assistance . . . . . but I'm not counting on it.
And then I have another show two weeks after that, and it's an outdoor show that requires the canopy.
This is what I do. If I don't do this, then I need to find another source of supplemental income, and that's already taking into consideration the writing. I'm just worried that "people" will do something stupid again.
They usually do.
Sorry to be such a downer today. At least I'm able to move around without yelping in pain at every other step and breath.
I finished it but will post full review with 100% tomorrow.
Lots of problems with this one and no surprise at who the killer was. Rating 1.5 stars was generous.
Even though I didn't lift anything heavy, I was lifting a lot, and I wasn't surprised when the knots started shortly after I closed down for the afternoon.
If we had stayed home and I could have got on the heating pad right away, that might have staved off the worst, but I wasn't up to cooking, so we went out. That was just long enough, and now here I am with the horrible wrenching spasms.
Of course, the studio tour is tomorrow as well, so somehow or other I will have to set up again -- no heavy lifting, but still -- and get through the day.
I'm writing this on my Kindle so it won't be very long. Typing on this is a royal pain.
The slide continues, for more and more reasons. I'm only forcing myself to finish for the sake of the Bingo game. . . and because the final review will have all the spoilers.
But here is the main point I need to make at more than halfway through: where is this story set?? My long history as a baseball fan tells me it's in western Pennsylvania, but that's only an educated guess.
Firmly now at 1.5 and still slipping.
Sarah was sitting in her car outside the station when he got back. He invited her in and made some coffee. Scott told her about what Knox said about the coin, about Anne Marie’s accident, Drew’s background check, and about Billy, Phyllis, and what Tommy saw.
Grandstaff, Pamela. Rose Hill (Rose Hill Mystery Series Book 1) (p. 99). Kindle Edition.
Telling, not showing,
This is a short book -- 245 pages -- and when I compare it to a fat hardcover like the two I read for Halloween Bingo, I can see why they were long and detailed and atmospheric, and this one . . . is not.
When I compare it to A Scone to Die For, which I also read for Halloween Bingo, the differences are important.
The Scone book was a straightforward case, with few complications and few suspects. And it was solved quickly. It also didn't involve the entire community of the book.
Rose Hill is not that straightforward. The victim is a member of the community with a long history. The members of the community are involved -- as witnesses, as suspects, as compllications. The setting itself is involved.
Instead of developing that -- the way a Martha Grimes or a Ruth Rendell or a Sharyn McCrumb would -- author Grandstaff just tells the reader what happens without bringing the reader into the theater of the story.
Still sliding downward.
Yep, it's sliding down from two stars.
Page 88 is a perfect example of how the poor writing detracts from this.
“Then what happened?”
“He hit Phyllis in the face, and she fell down.”
“He yelled at her again and left.”
“What did he yell?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Which way did he go?”
“Down the alley.”
“Then what happened?”
“Phyllis got up and went in the house.”
“Where was Billy?”
“Did you hear Billy come home afterward?” he asked.
Tommy shook his head.
“So what did you do?”
“I went back to sleep.”
Grandstaff, Pamela. Rose Hill (Rose Hill Mystery Series Book 1) (pp. 88-89). Kindle Edition.
This is the local small-town chief of police interviewing a 12-year-old boy who witnessed some of the events leading up to the murder. Tommy is economically disadvantaged, lives in a trailer park, is afraid of being accused of talking when he shouldn't have. For me this should have been a well-developed scene with lots of emotion and description and stage directions. Instead it's just a bunch of short lines of dialogue that get to the point but leave out all the flavor.
Some readers may prefer it this way. It's not that it's the wrong way to write a small town semi-cozy mystery, but it's not the way I like a mystery.
There are lots of other problems with this book. The snotty character from New York who gets everyone's names wrong is just another eye-rolling cliché.
It's pretty much deteriorated to 1.5 stars at this point.
This is another Friends of the Library purchase years ago. I just have to remember where I shelved it. Out in the studio maybe?
A couple of points here.
1. Why are the mothers all so obnoxious? Especially Scott's. Why doesn't he stand up to her? Ick. It makes him seem wimpy.
2. The victim's mail. It seems really odd that his complete financial picture would be so clearly laid out in just one or maybe two days' mail. All his bank statements arrive on the same day? All his credit card statements? All the other business deals?
I said before this was a potential two-star book, at best. It's starting to slide.
Edited to add:
He showed her the card and photo, and explained whom everyone pictured was and what had happened. He expected her to be impressed, ask pertinent questions, and take some notes.
Grandstaff, Pamela. Rose Hill (Rose Hill Mystery Series Book 1) (p. 51). Kindle Edition.
Suddenly I'm not impressed either.
Right now this is a potential two-star book. I doubt there will be anything to push it upward, but it might go lower.
Per the front matter, author Grandstaff self-published this as the first in a series when she couldn't interest a traditional publisher. Sales weren't great until some promotion came along after several more books had followed. So she took the opportunity to revise and fix this first title and reissue it.
If this is a revised/improved version, I'm glad I didn't get hold of the original.
It's not bad, but it's not good. Too many characters who are barely sketched in, and who don't inspire any loyalty. I can't keep them straight, and I don't care enough about any of them to make the effort.
It feels rushed, as if the author had an idea for a clever murder mystery and wrote it to get the plot down but forgot to develop the setting, the characters, the atmosphere.
There isn't even a main character. Yeah.