There are 399 Web Log Items in 50 pages and you are on page number 32 |
| P.S. |
Just a quick note before I call it a day. On the photo album, I've been having trouble seeing all the pictures under being "a mother and a writer." If you go to your "Refresh" button, click there, and then click under the arrow on the right of those pictures, you should be able to open up six or eight more. I realize that I should have a whole section on some of the great cops I've known and written about, but some of the greatest--and my greatest fans--are here now. Just keep trying until you find all the photos!
And here's to Dick Reed, Bob Keppel, Pierce Brooks, Austin Seth, Hank Gruber, Fred Horner, and all the rest. I will have three dozen detectives--at least--on here before we call our photo album complete!
We are working hard to make the album easier to negotiate!
All my best,
Ann |
| Posted by Ann on Thursday, November 10, 2005 at 22:18 |
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| THURSDAY |
Hi Gang,
I did write all day today while it alternately rained and cleared. I'm now back in the saddle again,a nd it's a good thing (Whoops, I sound like Martha). Found out that I need a new roof on my GOOD house. I'm already getting a new deck, and it's about time. The underpinnings were so rotten that we're lucky we didn't fall through! With the rain, I've discovered a number of little leaks from my "lifetime warrantied roof." Ahhh well. I guess they didn't say WHOSE lifetime?
Doesn't it seem as though things never break one a time? If one thing goes wrong, a couple of others do, too.
For Janice, I HAVE dealt with an elderly parent, and I think many of us had. Pattie is right on when she explains how powerless people who are aging can feel. I'm not that old--yet--but I know I would be horrified if someone, even someone I loved, told me they were taking away my possessions without letting me go through them. Maybe they're full of junk, but just maybe there are photographs or letters or something in there that means the world to them. Your father isn't stupid; he is coping with the fact that he cannot physically do the things he once did, that he probably can't remember the way he once did, that many of his friends are dead, and that his own mortality is looking him in the eye. I am old enough to know that there are days when we all look around and wonder where the years went when, inside, we still feel about 16. It starts about 40 when you realize that your eyes blur when you try to read the small print, and then there's menopause, and wrinkles, and some aches and pains. None of us ever expected to grow older. I recall being horrified when I realized that I was going to be 40! And then EVEN older than that.
I don't know how old you are Janice, but I suspect you're either quite young, or you're a member of the "Sandwich generation." That's what happened to me. I had teenagers who were driving me nuts, and a mother who had suddenly grown old, stubborn, depressed, and forgetful. When my dad died, she just folded. She had always been so strong, but she had him as a back-up. I had raised my four children all alone, and I expected her to be as strong as he had been. But she could not do it. I couldn't get her to try new things, or eat right, or move to a retirement home. I was worried about her, and, yes, resenting her for growing old and being difficult when I already had so much on my plate. It's natural to be resentful, I think. But we have to remember not to take it out on people who took care of us when we were helpless, ornery, messy, impossible, and annoying. We have to forgive them--and ourselves--when we discover that they have feet of clay. And we also have to remember that, unless we die prematurely, WE will one day be elderly and we will want to cling to our own dignity. So talk it out with us, talk it out with friends in the same boat--but let him have his boxes. Soon enough, he will be gone and you can throw the boxes away. Believe me, any kindness you show him now, any patience when you just feel like screaming at him, will make you feel so much better when he is gone. My mom has been gone for 10 years, and now I remember my "real mom" the young one who was confident and fun and always there for me. That image has replaced the sad, angry old woman she became. I choose to remember the real person. I am so glad that I held my tongue when her behavior at the end of her life just made me crazy. You will be too.
The photo album is growing. I discovered that if you click on the little arrow things, more and more photos come up. Didn't know that yesterday. Some of them are in the wrong sections, but I think you can figure them out. We'll be adding more and more.
I have a theory. I would bet that at least 75% of us on this Guestbook have pets. When you log in, just tell us if you do and who they are? If you don't have any, we all forgive you, so don't worry about it.
I know we are close to a million hits on this website. What should we do? Have thousands of us drinking champagne at once? Nope. I imagine we have our teetotalers among us. Wherever you are, just let out a Hip! Hip! Hooray!
My son seems to be doing better, thanks to your prayers. Thank you so much. I probably have invaded his privacy by mentioning his illness, and I don't want to do that. But I was really scared.
If any of you have sent me books to be signed, and you haven't gotten them back within ten days, please let me know at AnnieR37@aol.com . I got some books and their envelopes separated. And Judy--I think it's Judy--who sent me the frame with the tiles depicting the ocean, I love it--but I've lost your address! Please remind me?
By spending three hours a day on email, I've managed to keep them to about 170 unanswered at all times. But if you write and I don't respond,it's because I'm overwhelmed. If you sent your address for the newsletter (either email or street or P.O.) I have captured it with my printer, but I might not have time to answer those emails.
I swear that somewhere in this bunch of readers, there are experts on EVERYTHING. From Arthritis to Zucchini (literally.) Thanks for all the advice. I pulled the last Zucchini plant up today, and enjoyed the final tiny little offerings still left on the vine for breakfast. I am planning to use some of your never-fail anti-animal-poop-and-pee rug treatments soon. The one that calls for really soaking the carpet in a magic formula sounds great--but then getting it dry in the rain in Seattle in the winter is a little daunting. And my expert lives here, too, so she knows! I put the damaged area rugs in the storage space under my house, and may get to them in the spring sunshine!
I hope that most of you are finding ALL the pictures in the photo album. There's one of Willow, Fluffbutt and my late dog, Holly there that I just discovered, but the arrows don't always work for me.
I'll be posting the booksigning sites around Washington State very soon, and the Georgia ones a little later. If you live near Seattle and want to buy my books--or Donna Anders--or Leslie Rule's and have them signed for Christmas gifts, we'll make that happen. I know we're going to the PX at Fort Lewis on December 10th, and Barnes and Noble in Silverdale on December 3rd, and Fred Meyer in Burien on a Friday night in December, and I'll have more gigs soon. I will be on Northwest Afternoon, ABC-Channel 4-in Seattle on November 28th, so please call KOMO for free tickets.
Have to go find Willow who is running around outside in the dark and stormy night. She gets very suspicious when I try to get her to come in and get ready for bed. Lucy's older and likes it inside! Too much. (Go back up to the paragraph on ruined rugs!)
Happy Getting Ready for Thanksgiving,
Ann
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| Posted by Ann on Thursday, November 10, 2005 at 19:31 |
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| Tuesday Afternoon |
Sneaking some time in the afternoon to post something. Arielle, we will all pray that your dad will get better. The liver is one organ that DOES regenerate, and I hope so much that is true of your father. At any given time, someone, somewhere, is dealing with grief, worry and pain--just as there are people who are in joyful periods of their lives. And so we must remember to rejoice with those who are happy, and be there for people who are very sad. This Guestbook group is one of the kindest, nicest, bunch of people I've ever been lucky enough to know and there is always good support here, not to mention lots of people who will stand up for you when you're down!
There is still no word on Julie Weflen, the missing young wife in Kiss Me, Kill Me. When I hear anything, you can bet it will be on my weblog as soon as I can get it there.
I'm really excited to see that Rainey, my wonderful webmaster, has started putting photos up in my photo album. We're working on it as we go, and I hope to have dozens of photos on there. I think the way she has done it works pretty well. When you click on a photo, it gets bigger, and the caption comes up. I can see that some I sent her were not of good quality--such as my "angel" role in the Bach School Christmas Play in Ann Arbor--and we will replace those with better pictures. I have so many family pictures, crime case photos, detetectives in action, and pictures of the good guys and the bad guys, stacked in boxes all over my house and office. It's my goal to eventuall get them ALL on CD's so they will last forever. And many of them will find their way to this website. I'm always begging my editors to let me have more photos--and they do their best, but there are limits in cost effectiveness in books.
About three more weeks now until Worth More Dead shows up on the shelves. I've found that Green River, Running Red (in paperback) is sold out in all the stores where I shop. If you want to do something really nice for me, you can ask your bookstore or the manager of any store when they are going to get more copies in. For those of you in Canada, the UK, Australia, South Africa (Yes, South Africa!) the two new books should be arriving in your stores pretty soon, too.
About Brad Cunningham? The Oregon Appeals Court gave him a new trial almost four years ago, but the Oregon Supreme Court reversed that decision last February. He is still in prison in Salem, Oregon, and probably will stay there for a long time. Remember that you can find updates on people in my earlier books by going to UPDATEs on the Home Page of my website. And I also have given a lot of updates in the newsletter that goes out by mail and by email in about two weeks.
Someone asked me if I really do my own housework. You bet I do--and I'm not very good at it. I like to do things that last--like paint, mud and tape, hang wallpaper, lay floor tiles and put up ceiling tiles, and make curtains. But I hate the things you have to do over and over. I never could see a reason for dusting, when I could be writing. I do have a friend who comes in one day a week to help me. SHE is really good at making everything sparkle.
But, alas, it was not her day when I came home last week. How can I put this delicately? Well, Lucy, my 13-year-old combination chow-lab-whatever dog, ate something that went through like lightning, and she anointed my living room area rug in about--no lie--24 places. It was a disaster. Then I discovered that she has been sneaking downstairs every night--it looks like--and peeing on that rug AND the one in the dining room. The hardwood floor in the dining room is discolored for about five feet. The rugs only cost about $90 apiece at Fred Meyer, but I really like them. However, even after I mopped up the most obvious stains and piles, both rugs smell--well, you know how they smell. My son Mike says to throw them out, and he's probably right--but I HATE to throw stuff away that is basically good. Still, I don't want to encourage a repeat performance. I made Lucy sleep outside last night (On her pile of nine rugs) and it was 46 degrees, but she is so mad at me. If I could only explain to her why she is not all that welcome to roam around my house at night. I'm going to install some folding "baby gates" to discourage her.
Yeah, I did say that you won't be lonely with pets--but you sure may be challenged! But back to the question. Yes, I do my own cooking, dishes, laundry, most of the gardening, and make half of the beds. It's a good break from sitting here typing all day. I also buy and carry my own groceries down from the car. If I'm lucky, some poor neighbor man offers to help--he hasn't seen that my whole trunk is full! Or my sons or gentlemen friends happen by at the right time. When I go to Costco, it is a major job to get things out of my truck, onto my hillside tram, and then into my house and/or office. I really HATE to carry groceries!
Better get to work. It's almost 2:30 p.m. here.
Talk to you later!
Ann |
| Posted by Ann on Tuesday, November 08, 2005 at 14:22 |
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| The Sniveler Repents |
Sorry for sniveling. . .
Lots of you jumped to my defense in the face of the nasty critic on www.amazon.com . I shouldn't have bothered you with my complaints. This kind of stuff usually rolls off my back, but sometimes, if things aren't going that well generally, it can get to me. So forgive me for being so thin-skinned.
After yesterday seeming so dark and gloomy, today bloomed with sunshine and blue skies. That is a bonus in Seattle in November! I went out and bought two new TV sets to replace the ones that broke last week. The way prices go lower and lower just amazes me. Remember how much plain old black and white used to cost, not to mention the first color sets? I got one for my office with a DVD player in it for $119! I splurged a little bit for the one for my kitchen counter. My first flat screen and it won't take up so much room, but it was still only $250! When I was in Hollywood in 1978 writing the movie script (for the movie they never made) for the guys who produced Lords of Flatbush, Risky Business, Coast to Coast, and several other movies that WERE made, I remember one of them bought a Beta video player--way before VHS and it cost over $2000! I was so impressed. Today I saw the VHS and DVD players combined for about $69! As I said, my kids tease me because I mind my pennies, but that's what comes from being raised in a time when my parents made do with what they had and there were no such things as credit cards!
I suspect I may have become what I used to call "an old foof." All of a sudden, it seems, I disapprove of a lot of popular music, think some movies are way too graphic in sex and violence--not to mention too doggonned loud--and think women should cover at least part of the area between their belly buttons and their hips with blue jeans, rather than tattoos and bare skin. It's such a subtle change between being hep to being hip to being an old foof, I never saw it coming! :*) Hey, my mom was a flapper, who rolled her stockings below her knees, wore fringed skirts, rouged her knees, had spit curls, strapped her chest to look flat, and did the Charleston. I sometimes think she was much naughtier in her day than I ever was. Still, despite the things I find way too far-out, I do have a much more open mind than I did as a young woman. But I work on it religiously--trying to see someone else's opinion and wondering if maybe they are the ones who are right.
I know it must have been really hard for my parents to bite their tongues and let me choose the career I wanted. And I wanted to be a cop. I'm sure they worried about me, but they never told me not to do it.
Wel, enough musing. If you know me, you know that I'm dawdling, trying to keep from writing. So that's it for now. I'm going over to the writing side of this computer. Rainey, my webmaster, is busy working on the first four or five dozen photos I sent her to start our Photo Album, and it shouldn't be long, now.
Maybe in the future, I'll put some of your photos on too--so we can all get to know who we're talking to a little better?
Actually going to workkkkkkk Won't stop until Desperate Housewives starts. I hope it picks up the pace a little bit, though. I'm not enjoying it as much as I did last year.
Ann |
| Posted by Ann on Sunday, November 06, 2005 at 16:30 |
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| Those Who Can Write, Do . . . |
Want to know what really annoys me? Reviews like the one below that appeared on my book page for Green River, Running Red. This person--male or female, and who knows which--is one of those anonymous critics who darts out of the woodwork to pick apart other's efforts. Whoever he or she was, this person apparently wanted more blood and gore and sexually stimulationg material, and could not care less about the victims of Gary Ridgway. I would have written to my learned critic, but, of course, there is no way to respond because he (she) is a shadow person whose identity is secret. I would throw down the gauntlet and say, "If you are so expert, why don't YOU write a book? Then you can explain everything about the killer, ignore the victims, and titillate readers like yourself.
I know, I know--after all these years, this shouldn't bother me. But it does. I think it's the cowardice of those who never identify themselves that gets under my skin.
Here's the brilliant review: Average Customer Review:
"Write an online review and share your thoughts with other customers.
HUGE WASTE OF TIME, November 3, 2005
Reviewer: A_Million_Books_Read (Florida, USA) - See all my reviews
This is NOT the book to read if you want to know about the mind and methods of the Green River Killer. Well over the first half of the book is dedicated to EACH known victim. While it is sad to read about them and their lost lives, my interest lies with the killer himself. While that may sound gruesome, it is the killer himself who fascinates and who should have dominated the book. Ann Rule has proven herself to be a prolific writer, but as always, is very elementary in her writing level and her "insight" (rather lack of insight) into the mind of any killer. She is an over glorified gossip columnist. Perhaps someday someone with true intellect and insight will write a GRK book that can be placed in the same league as Helter Skelter. Until then....save your money and skip this book."
Gee, anonymous, maybe YOU are that true intellect? Why don't you give it a try?
From "The over-glorified gossip columnist!"
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| Posted by Ann on Saturday, November 05, 2005 at 21:52 |
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| 11/5/05 |
Saturday Night.
I usually love a good rainstorm, but this has been the gloomiest day I've seen in a long time in Seattle. Dark all day with lowering clouds, bursts of cold rain, and just plain miserable. I have one place in my house that leaks whenever the conditions are just right. And the roof is leaking. If I only know WHERE the leak was, I could get it fixed, but we've been trying for years to figure out how the water gets in. The wind has to be blowing from EXACTLY the right --or wrong--direction, and the rain has to be coming down hard. I had my little office TV sitting under the leak, and it is not well. It dried out enough so that you can change channels with the channel turner, but now I can't find it. How I could lose it so completely in the vicinity of my desk amazes me--but it's just not here. And the ##@&&%% TV will not turn on or off if you push the buttons on the front of it. When I'm writing, I am not really paying attention to what's on the tube, but it makes a nice rumbly background noise. And I miss it. And my kitchen TV broke last week. It's strange how that happens; one thing goes and then another and sometimes another. And I didn't even buy these TV's at the same time.
Been working on the newsletter's two mailing lists--one for street addresses, and one for email addresses. If anyone isn't on the list yet, you still have time. I think I'll be sending the final disks by next Friday. I'm pretty sure this will be the last newsletter we mail out, though. It's so much easier to send them by email, and just direct you to the photo album section that will be on my website pages.
Thank you to dozens of you who wrote to me to say they were saying prayers and sending good wishes to my family and my son. We all appreciate that a lot. Doesn't it seem as though you always have something to worry about when you have kids? Little ones, teenagers, grown ones. It never stops. When I was taking my first baby home from the hospital, I suddenly realized, "Oh, Oh. I'm going to be responsible for this little person for the next 18 years! What have I done? What if I make mistakes?"
Of course, it turns out to be a lot longer than 18 years, doesn't it? And I did make a lot of mistakes, even though I tried my best. I wouldn't miss being a mother for anything, but we always worry about something. My kids have always thought I was an "over-worrier" because of what I do for a living. And maybe I am. As my son Mike said the other day, "We've got the kind of family where, if you don't check in at least once every 24 hours, our mother thinks we got run over by a truck or we've been kidnapped." I try not to be that way, but I guess I am a worry-wart. I think it's harder when you are a single parent. But then my kids worry too. Each of them calls me at least once a day, and if I don't answer, I suspect they think I've tripped over the dogs and I am lying out in the yard, wishing I had one of those, "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!" necklaces. Hey, it's better than if nobody cares, isn't it?
I'll be leaving for Augusta, Georgia just about two months from today. Covering a trial is a kind of out-of-town semi-vacation, where I get to stay in a hotel, don't have much housecleaning to do, and experience life in another part of the country. Luckily, I have some really good pet-sitters for all the critters around here, although the cats, dogs, raccoons and possums are always pretty cool to me when I get home, even when I try to explain that if I don't work, they don't get fed. They can't see the connection!
Guess I'd better get back to writing. At the beginning of a book, I'm VERY easily distracted, and can find dozens of excuses why I don't have to write. Once I get in the flow of it, I'm much more dependable.
I am grateful for all of you! Green River, Running Red, hit its fifth week on the N.Y. Times Bestseller list (at #6). Right above me is In Cold Blood, the book that was my biggest inspiration. I think the new movie about Truman Capote has renewed interest in this book that was first published in, I believe, 1964.
Again, bless you for all you do for me, and for the gracious and supportive emails and posts you sent me.
Ann |
| Posted by Ann on Saturday, November 05, 2005 at 18:56 |
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| Friday Night |
Hi on Friday night,
I think I've been missing from my weblog for a couple of days. First, I promised to speak at a fund-raising breakfast on Wednesday at 7:30 a.m. for Families and Friends of Violent Crime Victims and Missing Persons. For me, that's a labor of love because I'm a person who isn't very alert until 10 a.m.! I work until midnight or one, and I am definitely not alert at 7:30. But I was there, I spoke, and I didn't make a fool of myself. This is a group I have supported for 30 years, people who reach out to survivors of homicide victims. Their work is so important, and they help so much when people are faced with tragedy they could never have imagined. We raised almost $78,000 so it was sure worth getting up at dawn!
I'm going to try to remember the specific questions: In the case of "Barbie," who was raped three times and shot in the head by the man who picked her up when she was hitchhiking--"The Girl Who Fell in Love With her Killer," I wish I knew where she is today. But I don't. Sometimes, I cannot keep up with the victims of the stories I write. The man convicted of raping and shooting her sued me for several million dollars, even though I never identified him in my book, and his suit was finally dismissed after a couple of years. This is one of the downsides of being a true crime writer. This whole episode was very traumatic for me, too!
No, I don't think Liysa Northon suffered from fetal alcohol syndrome (Heart Full of Lies). She had none of the symptoms, none of the facial characteristics, and there is no evidence that either of her parents drank to excess. That diagnosis just doesn't fit her.
On the question of where Dr. Debora Greene committd her crimes, of course I knew it happened in Prairie Village, Kansas, and it says so in my book--Bitter Harvest. I also detailed the things you mentioned in your email. Probably, you haven't read my book yet--because it's all there. I was in the courtroom when the testimony about the bodies of her dead children falling into the basement was presented. That was the only time she showed emotion. She whispered frantically to her attorneys, and left the courtoom before those slides were shown. Everything in Bitter Harvest is true, and you will undoubtedly recognize the sequences I describe. I went to Prairie Village on a bitterly cold day in winter and stood on the spot where the Farrar mansion once stood. I mke it a point in every book to visit the areas where the crimes occurred so I can describe the to my readers.
I want to ask my readers for some prayer help. My older son, Andy, is having some serious heart problems, even though he is way too young for that. Debbie P., my good friend in the Buffalo area, whose story I wrote in Last Dance, Last Chance, is so supportive and is starting a prayer chain there. Even though I have a wonderful career that I love and a lot of accolades from all of you, my heart is breaking over Andy. We never really know what secret sorrows people have. I was so worried today that I couldn't write a line, but I'm going to try again tomorrow. As all mothers do, I wonder what I could have done differently, although all of us try our best with what we know at the time. And lots of times, our childrens' problems aren't our fault at all, but mothers tend to take on the burden of guilt, I think.
A big storm is due to hit tonight in Seattle. The winds blew up to 25 miles per hour last night, and I finally had to bring in my wind chimes as they were clanging and clicking so much I thought they would fall apart. I love storms--as long as the power doesn't go out. The new low pressure system coming in now may very well cut off the power.
Worked on the photo album for four hours yesterday, so we're getting close. Also getting close with the newsletter. I wish we had more room for photos in the newsletter but it will direct everyone to the on-line photo album.
Green River, Running Red dropped to #6 on the N.Y. Times list for the Sunday after next, but that's still good--five weeks on the top ten list. Ironically, In Cold Blood, the Truman Capote book that was my inspiration so long ago, is one step above me on the list. That's probably because of the new movie about Capote. Secretly, or not so secretly, I want to be one ABOVE Capote. You all now I can get competitive in the bookselling market!
I must have had 100 emails this week from people who suggested some cases that they felt I absolutely had to write. Oh--if only I could write that many. I feel bad having to turn them down, but I'm already committed to books until late 2006, and I can't write them all. Especially, I cannot write unsolved cases--even if it's pretty clear "who done it." There must be an arrest and a trial with a guilty verdict before I can touch it--for legal reasons.
Well, all of us over forty or maybe over thirty, have learned that we go through tough times, but there almost always is some sunshine at the end of the dark tunnels. I appreciate all of you, and your comments and emails mean so much to me. Now that I'm working on both Too Late to Say Goodbye and No Regrets, I can't always answer the emails, but I read every single one of them, and I thank you so much!
Live from the "No-Smoking" website. :*) Liz is still hanging in there as her lungs grow pinker every day.
Ann
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| Posted by Ann on Friday, November 04, 2005 at 22:21 |
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| Halloween |
Halloween Night.
I guess I am lucky because the only way to get to my house is by taking a little car on tracks--that can only be operated with a key. Other than that, the tide has to be out. So I haven't had a parade of trick or treaters for about 17 years. They are adorable, but they do take up a whole evening of answering doors, passing out candy, sitting down--only to answer more doors. When I had a house on a public street, I always tried to have really exceptional candy. Remember when a five-cent Hersey bar or a Three Musketeers weighed more than an ounce? Remember PayDays that must have been about 6 ounces for a dime--or more--and took fifteen minutes to devour. Now, "fun size" isn't really fun; it's just the greedy candy-makers trying to convince us that we should pay a lot of money for a wisp of candy! When I was growing up in Ann Arbor, Michigan, it was safe to accept home-made bags of popcorn or home-made cookies. How sad that our children and grand children have to be afraid of what might be in home-made gifts!
Yes, I do my own house painting. I love the calm feeling of sitting there painting, listening to the radio, and adding little touches. I do hire handy-men to paint my whole house, but until now, I was always the one who did it. My ex-husband never painted, but I was always up on a ladder or hanging off a roof with a paintbrush in my hand. I am also pretty darned good at 'mudding and taping" drywall, laying floor tile and ceiling tile, hanging wallpaper and gardening. Used to mow my own lawns, too. We were definitely not rich for many years, and if something needed to be done, I did it. I was really good at taking a tin of Argentine beef, adding vegetables and dumplings and making a meal--or at picking wild berries to make cobbler. In those days, those round cans of beef cost 35 cents. Everyone should experience times when you're not quite sure where supper is coming from; it makes you more appreciative when things get better.
"Writers' Arthritis"--which almost all of us have after years of hunching over typewriters and computers have--tends to make me less agile than I was in my true handy-woman days! If you have any advice on how to make those joints feel better, please post them. I'm taking Mangosteen, Glucosamine-Chondroitin, acupuncture, and slathering on Tiger Balm. And exercising. Probably should have done a whole bunch more exercising during all these writing years. Sigh.
To continue on--I also change my own cat-litter most of the time. I was a late-bloomer to success so I've never let it go to my head or felt totally secure that it wasn't all going to go away when I wasn't looking. I truly appreciate every nice thing that happens in my career--I sure waited a long time for it! That may be why "starlets" like Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lothan et al annoy me. They haven't paid any dues at all, and yet they feel "entitled." And while we're talking tabloids, who in the world is the father of Katy Holmes baby? I'm not betting on Tom Cruise. If she were my daughter, I'd be scared to death at the way he seems to be keeping her incommunicado from the normal world. I know, I know--most of you are far too intellectual to even read the National Enquirer et al, or waste your time pondering such weighty issues. Every week, I swear I won't buy tabloids again. . .and then, and then, I just need something to clear the fog out of my brain, something really stupid with no redeeming value, and there I am buying them again . . .
Nope, I'm not going to answer all those questions that will only be answered in my autobiography! For the reader who asked, I wonder if you are writing an article or doing a school paper? : *) . There are many insights into my life on the biography that appears on my website, but I will only do it in depth when I write my own book. I'm really hoping that I get the chance to do that, and that, in the end, my life doesn't sound blah and dumb and like something nobody gives a hoot about. Maybe I only think I have something important to say?
I can see now why Oprah backed away from doing her autobiography about ten years ago (Not that I compare my success to Oprah's!) She must have known in her heart that her story had just begun, and that she would one day be the only person who could tell it. I am continually amazed at how the goodness and warmth in her triumphed over the tragedies in her life. Sure, she can be a little rambunctious and over confident at times, but, bless her, she deserves all the fame she has. I just hope she is really happy. I saw Steadman once at a hotel where I was staying on a book tour--and he sure is one beautiful man. Hope he's as interesting as he is "pretty!"
Again, Hooray for our non-smokers! Before I was ready to quit, I used to skip over all the articles that told me how bad it was for me. But when the time comes to stop smoking, something inside tells you to GO FOR IT! If you believe in that signal, you will succeed. You just know the time is right and that you will never, ever, smoke again. Guaranteed! Now if I could only cut down on my caloric intake. The trouble is is that you can just stop smoking, but you cannot entirely stop eating, and so you leave a little room for error.
I'm having a moral dilemma that I would like your opinion on. In view of the cases of several mothers who have killed their own children in the last year or so--usually believing that they were doing the right thing, an aspect of their delusions--I want to include a very sad story in my new book--NO REGRETS. The mother in this case is one of only two killers I have written about in the past whom I believe were certifiably insane at the time they killed. The only reason, I think, for telling this story is to remind all of us that we need to be our "neighbor's keeper," and keep an eye out for people in trouble. We could change a lot of lives if we stepped in to help people who saw no way out but what they chose. I want to tell Tanya's story because it still haunts me, and because I wish I had somehow known how desperate she was before she decided to destroy her own babies. But I didn't even know she existed until her story hit the headlines. I won't sensationalize it, but I think it's important to tell. I don't even know if she is still alive. What do you think? Should I tell the story--probably without revealing her real name? Or should I leave it alone? Would you all find it too distressing to read? I chose not to write about the mother, Andrea Yates, in Texas who drowned all of her children because I was--and am--convinced that she was psychotic, a victim of extreme postpartum depression at the time, and I didn't see her case as "true crime." Cases that come to my attention are so different from one another. I am seeing this more and more with the new book.
Tomorrow, I'm heading up north so I can speak at a fund-raising breakfast for Families of Friends of Violent Crime Victims and Missing Persons at 7:30 a.m. on Wednesday. I really, really believe in the group, that I've participated in for 30 years. Only that would make me get up at 6 a.m. I am not a happy camper until about 10 a.m., and then I kind of ee-aa-ssee--into the day.
Thanks to the regulars for answering questions posed by the newcomers here, and remember that my website is full of information. We hope to have the Photo Album up by the end of the week.
It's raining hard. My roof leaked and it dampened the little TV in my office. Now, you can only turn it on and off with a surge breaker strip and it will only show Channel 4. The day before, the little TV in my kitchen broke down. Isn't that odd--to have two of them go at the same time?
I'm sure there are other questions I should be answering. . . . Oh yes, on Woody Harreldson's father. He was a very handsome, ladies' man who was involved in a conspiracy to kidnap Judge Wood and kill him. Only it didn't happen in El Paso--it was San Antonio. In fact, the courthouse where I went to attend Allen Blackthorne's trial (Every Breath You Take) in 2000 was named after Judge Wood. I used to pass his picture on the wall every day on my way to court. I haven't read about it lately but Woody used to visit his father in prison often, and was trying to help him get a parole. I don't believe he grew up knowing his father. They look quite a bit alike. The elder Harreldson was a charming rogue, but his crime was intensely cruel. I mention the Judge Wood killing in my book about Blackthorne.
Our Seattle football teams are not doing so well, so I'm not going to brag about anyone. My dad was a football coach, and missed my birth because his team had a game. I spent the first 21 years of my life going to three football games every autumn weekend. I am not nearly as thrilled by professional sports as I am when I know someone on the team, but I sure do know my football!
Two more months and I will be in Georgia, covering the Dr. Bart Corbin trials in the strange deaths of his wife and former fiancee 14 years earlier. I've loved being home with my critters and my natural born children for this long, and I've managed to do a lot of writing this year, but it's time to hit the road soon. Keep sending me your email and street addresses so that you will receive the hardcopies and email updates that I'll be sending out soon. Anf if any of you happen to know the people involved in Corbin's story, I would appreciate hearing from you. This will not be an easy case to decipher. I think that TOO LATE TO SAY GOODBYE will be one of my most important books, but also one of the most difficult to research.
Only four more weeks until WORTH MORE DEAD hits the stands.
Stay safe and warm,
Ann
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| Posted by Ann on Monday, October 31, 2005 at 22:15 |
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