Journal Notes

Just when I was about to give up on the Elizabeth Custer book getting approved once and for all I got work that it’s a go. This time there will be a contract from Globe Pequot Press to inspire me to go further. Looks like the other proposals I submitted will go through as well. What a relief! I received my private investigator’s license and badge today too. That should help expedite the research I’ve been doing on my brother’s case. I’ll be pursuing a degree in computer forensics next. Not that I’m interested in computers, but I am interested in deciphering the evidence fabricated about Rick. What I’ve unraveled so far is very telling. I miss my brother every day.

There are those people in life who show up to everything fashionably late and make a grand entrance doing so. I am not one of those people. I have always been 15 to 30 minutes early to everything and it’s irritating. I’m waiting a lot. A 1 o’clock meeting doesn’t really start at 1 o’clock. It starts at 1:15, 1:25…I know this and yet I’m always early. I should wait another week to make the calls to confirm everything for the book signings in the Midwest, but I don’t. I made them today and it’s still too early! I’m trying to anticipate everything that could go wrong however. In my world something always goes wrong. I don’t see the glass as half-full or half-empty. I see it as a glass somebody else has already put their germs on. As I was early again for a meeting today I decided to pop in to a store and try to find a swimsuit. I don’t own a swimsuit. I think that’s a dangerous fashion statement for a size 12-14 woman with big hair. If I hadn’t have been early I would have been content to wait for the styles from the late 1800s to come back. You know the look – the big blouses with the bloomers, tights, cap and cape. I glanced briefly at the thong bikinis. Brave is the woman who dares to dream the impossible dream, face a new challenge, try on a thong bikini knowing she’ll look like a sumo wrestler. Ultimately, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to try on ANY swimsuit. The only thing I found really comfortable at the store was the dressing room. Oh well, I’m not going to be swimming in Dodge City anyway. I’ll be promoting Thunder Over the Prairie. Fully clothed. Head to toe in traditional prairie garb. I’d like to think the men who were part of the greatest posse in the Old West and the subject of Thunder Over the Prairie would applaud my decision. I’d also like to think they’d be offended at any woman who wore a thong swimsuit and captivated by those who were always early. Hey, a big-haired girl can dream.

There are times in life when a song, a piece of art, or a film comes along and articulates things so well it leaves you breathless. The film Doubt did that for me. A nun at the Saint Nicholas Church School suspects the priest there of an unspeakable act with one of the students. She dislikes the man and looks for wrongdoing in every corner. Armed with nothing more than doubt and circumstantial evidence, she begins to systematically ruin this priests life. No proof just doubt takes away everything for him. I remeinded me so much of my brother’s situation. The film should be required viewing for everyone that was involved with Rick’s case. I would particualrly like my brother’s exwife & step-daughter to see it. People like them however have souls that are black as the night and the message would most likely be lost on them. I’ll continue to work on the new book Front Page, but I’ll be thinking of the inspired work by John Patrick Shanley. He is a brilliant writer and I aspire to capture an event like he has. I miss my brother and wish I could have saved him from the pain.

I can’t believe how many people have responded to the Dodge City stay giveaway. Dodge City is a great place and I think the winner will enjoy the rich history the town has to offer. A winner will be selected on April 30 so if you haven’t already entered you still have some time. I’m encouraged by the response and hopeful the book launch will be a success. I don’t feel as positive about the outcome with my neice, Nickol. A few months ago I sent her a card. After not hearing anything, I sent another. Finally, I heard back from her. She’s very angry and feels slighted my her father’s family. She’s feels as though she was tossed aside and forgotten about. I would have like to have had a chance to meet with her in person and share with her what has happened since my sweet brother went to prison. Maybe she doesn’t know the FBI came to my parent’s home and told us to stay away from her. Maybe she doesn’t know how devestating it was to be told by the Federal agents during the sentencing that my parents and younger brother that we were not to even look at her. Maybe she doesn’t know how we have suffered because that day in court we lost a son, a brother, a friend, and a neice that I particularly adored. My emails to her go unanswered. The pain continues and I was so hoping for just a little break in the constant storm of grief. Someday, maybe, things can be different. In the meantime, I write.

The newsletters were emailed today announcing the contest giveaway associated with the launch of Thunder Over the Prairie. I can’t believe the response so far. It’s been very positive and I’m encouraged. I placed the information about the contest on my site a few weeks ago, but thought I’d add it to the rotation again today. I think the event will be fun – once I get past being nervous. The true story of the trek the most intrepid posse of the Old West ventured on in pursuit of a reckless gunslinger is the subject of a new book entitled Thunder Over the Prairie. Thunder Over the Prairie rides into bookstores in June 2009. The year was 1878. Future legends of the Old West-lawmen Charlie Bassett, Bat Masterson, Wyatt Earp, and Bill Tilghman-patrolled the unruly streets of Dodge City, Kansas, then known as “the wickedest little city in America.” When a cattle baron fled town after allegedly shooting the popular dancehall girl Dora Hand, these four men-all sharpshooters who knew the surrounding harsh, desert-like terrain-hunted him down, it was said, like “thunder over the prairie.” The posse’s legendary ride across the desolate landscape to seek justice influenced the men’s friendship, careers, and feelings about the justice system. This account of that event, written by Howard Kazanjian and Chris Enss, is a fast-paced, unforgettable glimpse into the Old West. The launch of the new book will be held in Dodge City, Kansas at the Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City on Saturday, June 6th at 5 p.m.. The authors would like to give a lucky western fan a chance to attend the festivities. Enter to win a two night’s stay at the Dodge City Hotel, a signed copy of Thunder Over the Prairie, admission to the launch party, and a complete library of the author’s other works. Email gvcenss@aol.com and tell us you want to go to Dodge. One winner will be selected from the entries and notified by the authors on April 30th. Good luck!

Knowing that I have Bible study tonight has helped me keep going today. I’ve been working on the research and writing of the book Front Page: Women Journalist of the Old West and sending out multiple submissions for other books as well, but it hasn’t been work that’s given me inspiration it’s been the fact that later I’ll be praying for someone and they’ll be praying for me. The group of ladies in my Bible study class are some of the best friends I have. They let me cry over my brother, rant about the lies his step-daughter continues to spread, and pontificate about the future. As a writer I spend a lot of time by myself and I find that I can be so desperate for companionship at times that I often believe people are my friends when they’re not. Like my post lady. Every day she comes to my house and gives me exciting letters, stimulating magazines, and shiny presents. You know, fun stuff, and I’m always glad to see her. She’s a nice lady, but she’s not my friend. It takes me a little bit, but I have to realize she’s just delivering the mail because that’s her job, she’s a post lady. And when she smiles or waves at me, that’s because she likes her job. Not because she wants to be my friend. It’s important to know the difference. I still question everything because of what happened to my brother. I don’t trust myself at times. People who claimed to love Rick and me and my family did some horrible things. I would have sworn they really did care. But just like the post lady, they were just doing their job. It’s hard to know sometimes who really does love you and who doesn’t. Who is really your friend and who isn’t. I think the very best way to tell if you can be friends with someone is whether or not you can make each other laugh. The group of ladies in my Bible study class make me laugh so hard milk actually comes out of my nose. And I haven’t had any milk in over two years. They’ve been a real blessing to me and I’m grateful. They stay my friends even when my heart is hard and I struggle to forgive. They help me differentiate between real family and those that aren’t.

As a Christian I know that worrying doesn’t add a second on to your life, but I can’t seem to help being worried all the time. Nothing in my life seems settled and as I approach my 48th birthday I had hoped things would be settled to some degree. The publishing house that I work for has been telling me for months that the proposals I submitted last year will more than likely be approved, but that hasn’t happened yet. Meetings to approve those proposal continue to get pushed back. The publishing house filed bankruptcy a few weeks ago and employees had to take a 10% pay cut across the board. Given those circumstance I am worried that the proposals will not go through at all. I’ve contracted to do a book with Chronicle of the Old West that I’m excited about that and have proposals out at a few University Presses, Far Country Press, and Harlequin Romance, but it will takes months to hear back from any of those companies. I’ve written 22 books for Globe and felt like I was on my way to establishing myself in the niche market of women of the Old West, but it looks like I’m going to have to start over now from scratch. Lately I don’t think I have it in me to start over again. From a financial standpoint the need to find something soon is great. In addition to all the other daily things you need to pay for I’ve got to think of supporting my brother that’s in prison too. They’ve made several cutbacks and he has to be supplied with food and medicine. That only happens when a family members puts money in his account. Did I mention that I haven’t gotten paid from Globe this month yet? I worry. It’s a worthless emotion, but it is all consuming at times. I have no plans to abandon writing, but I did think I was at a place where that was now my full time job. Maybe a burst of good fortune will present itself while I’m on this book tour to promote Thunder Over the Prairie. One of the signings I arranged will take place in Rolla, Missouri. One of the reasons I wanted to set up a signing there was to have a chance to see my niece Nickol and possibly work through some of the grief we are both feeling, but I don’t think that’s going to happen either. She sent me an email and it was harsh and accusatory. Guess I shouldn’t have tried to reach out – now I just hurt more. I’m tired of scratching and fighting with life to make things happen. I’ve always known I wanted to be a writer and I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I sure wish one thing in my life was easy. I worry that it never will be. I’ll continue on with the plans for the major promotional tour through the Mid-West for the new book. What happens after that is a big mystery. I prefer mysteries in the form of a Sue Grafton novel, but I guess this will have to do. Can’t say I’m not worried about the outcome though. And now we’ve come full circle.

The book tour through the Mid-West for Thunder Over the Prairie begins May 28th. I know it’s too early to make follow up calls about the promotion, but I have to sit on my hands to keep from picking up the phone. As I’ve said before, I’ve invested a lot in this campaign and hope it pays off. Larry Bowen at Readers Corner Book Store in Rolla has been very kind and I’m looking forward to the signing there. I want the event to be a success for his book store too. He’s gone out of his way to help and it would be a shame if no one showed. I’ve done signings where no one has shown. I’ve been at signings where shoppers have told me, “We hate history. We like books on magic. Have your written any of those?” I’ve had the flu for the last few days so that has curtailed my desire to make phone calls about the promotion a bit. Whenever I get sick I treat it like a CSI episode. I spend a lot of time trying to figure out where I could have picked up the flu! My imagination runs wild too. I’ve decided if I’m ever stuck on a respirator or a life support system I definitely want to be unplugged. But not until I’m down to a size eight.

I’ve teamed up with Dakota & Sunny Livesay from Chronicle of the Old West to write a book about women journalists on the frontier. The book will focus on the women who made the front page news they wrote. One of the women I’m researching is Elizabeth Cochrane. She was better known as Nellie Bly. She went to great extremes to get a story – including faking a mental illness so she could be institutionalized. She was so convincing as an insane person that on September 25, 1887, four eminent physicians from Bellevue Hospital had her hauled away to famous Blackwell’s Island in New York. Nellie wanted to do an expose about how patients in a mental institution were treated. The article was historic and not only changed the way people with mental illnesses are treated, but changed the way the world saw women journalists. The book Front Page: Old West Headlines and the Women Who Made Them will be in bookstores by Christmas 2010. What I like about Nellie was the fact that she wanted to achieve great things not simply because she was a woman, but because she knew it would give her a certain amount of power. She used her power for good, but I know many people with power who don’t. I think power is one of the most sought-after, addictive, seductive, abused drug there is. Compared to power, crack is a Cinnabon. People crave power. Power over corporations, laws, other people, blindly sad circumstances?. Whether it’s heading a major publishing company or just spraying that cockroach in your kitchen with a steady stream of Raid and pretending you’re Tom Cruise’s character from Top Gun shooting down Val Kilmer’s character from Top Gun. It’s easy to think if you don’t forgive someone in your life who has done a horrible wrong that you have all the power, but nothing could be further from the truth. You’ve done nothing more than give what power you do have away. I wonder if Nellie wrote any articles about the power to forgive? I’ll look into it later. Right now all I can think about is a Cinnabon.

It’s seems wrong that I should spending a big chunk of the day thinking of every way possible to promote the next book. It’s too pedestrian to contemplate what I want for dinner or to speculate about what time the cable guy will actually arrive tomorrow. The concerns of my everyday life are too ordinary in comparison to the life my brother lives in prison. I try not to dwell on it, but I know he was raped and severely beaten and the thought of that violent act and his current physical condition as a result haunts me. As I address more envelopes for the launch of the book in Dodge City in June, thoughts of Rick break into my mind and stop me cold. I quickly say a prayer that God would take him now and not let him suffer any longer. It’s amazing how eagerly I wait for news that he’s gone. My brother trusted me to help him and I let him down. Shakespeare wrote, “When sorrows come, they come not as single spies, but in battalions!”