There are 399 Web Log Items in 50 pages and you are on page number 35 |
| 9/30/05 |
Friday Night:
For some specific questions: To Paul: Yes, I have known Bob Keppel for more than thirty years. In fact, I wrote an article about his very first homicide investigation when I was the "Stringer" for True Detective, Official Detective, Master Detective, Front Page Detective, and Inside Detective magazines, way back in the 70's. We were both in our twenties then. Bob is a Seattle resident--except for his stay in Huntsville, Texas, when he taught at Sam Houston State University. He's back here now. He's one of the smartest detectives I ever met, and, of course, he was one of the two King County Sheriff's detectives assigned to work full-time on the Ted Bundy case. He and his wife, Sandy, are good friends of mine. (See my book The Stranger Beside Me re: that.)
LIz, Karen has apparently left her apartment and moved in with her mother on a farm someplace. I think she told me it was in Oklahoma but she hasn't sent me an address yet so there's no place to send any packages. I will try to find out.
Our wonderful summer and fall of sun and warm weather in Seattle has disappeared, and the clouds are lowering as the wind is a'blowing! I do like rain, although I hope we will have a few weeks of Indian Summer before it all goes away. We did manage to get both my house and my office/cottage painted just in time before the storms came. It's all barn red now, and I love it--my favorite color for a house.
I'm still writing on the newsletter, so don' t forget to send me your email address and/or your street and P.O. Box address if you want to be on the mailing list? If you have received my newsletters before, you are still on the list.
Regarding Susan Smith's popularity with male correspondents, ditto that for Diane Downs. Diane had a guy fall madly in love with her after she and I were on Oprah. I was with Oprah, and Diane was with us by satellite. He was an Oregon cop's son who actually moved to New Jersey to be close to her! She asked him to ejaculate into a baggie, took in his arm pit to keep the semen warm, and bring it to her in prison so she could use it to get pregnant! Then, she asked him to rent a helicopter and hover over the exercise yard and help her escape. About that time, he didn't find her so romantic. Soon after that, guards found her sewing a guard's uniform in her cell--don't know how she got the fabric and the braid, but she had it. She was quickly transferred back to Oregon and Washington, and then to Chowchilla, California. The fact remains that all male AND female prisoners who get publicity in the media have their groupies. Maybe it makes the groupies feel important to be connected to a "celebrity?" No matter what they did to be famous. I've had lots of men show up at book signings and tell me that they're writing to Diane and are in love with her. The thing is that if people Diane or Ted or Susan Smith or Gary Ridgway were out, they would still be dangerous--even to those "fans" who fancy themselves in love.
Have a great weekend, and I hope those of you who haven't read Green River, Running Red yet will pick up the brand new publication of the paperback that came out Wednesday.
Talk to you soon,
Ann
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| Posted by Ann on Friday, September 30, 2005 at 17:39 |
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| Quick Note |
Green River, Running Red in paperback (Premier format) should be in your stores as of today.
To answer an often-asked question again, I am updating my newsletter now, and hope to have it in the mail within three weeks.
All my best!
Ann |
| Posted by Ann on Wednesday, September 28, 2005 at 22:39 |
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| Lost Journal Entry |
Whoops. This is out of place, but I found it and think that it never got entered into my weblog. So I'll just add it here, but remember I wrote it several days ago, like a whole week ago.
Ann
Wednesday Night.
Thank you for so many lovely posts. What good friends, readers, fans you all are!
Elizabeth must be so proud of her little girl. Doesn't it bring tears to your eyes when you see your kids--big kids and little kids--demonstrate how caring they can be? I know it does mine. The first thing I have always wished for my kids is that they be kind, and they all are. All five of them animal lovers and they all go out of their way not to hurt anyone's feelings. While they're not perfect and none of us are, the things that count came through.
I know that we are all feeling sad for Karen, and hoping and praying for a happy ending. She is in Fayetteville, Arkansas. Are any of you close by? Maybe you could do some shopping for her, or help her get ready to move or some other chore that must seem overwhelming. Ever since her surgery in August, she hasn't been able to do much more than lie down and rest and try to get better. If I were only there, I'd go and buy her a big bunch of groceries, but Arkansas is a long way from Seattle.
To the question of who gets the victim(s)' money after a murder, it goes to whomever they have named in their wills (BUT NOT to the killer even if he's in the will. They can't profit from their crimes, and in most states they can't write about them or sell the rights to their stories for profit!) If there is no will the Court will decide. I have never paid a killer for a story, and never intend to.
I'm beginning to miss writing, but, first, I will do the mail-out newsletter. I suspect that from here on, more than half of the people who read it will read it on my website. The days seem to go by so fast, filled up with paying bills, taxes, and doing office organization, but I'm making progress. My little cabin is barn red now, and we' ve started painting my house-house. I have a whole wall of built-in bookcases, the rotting boards on my deck are patched, and my cabin has sturdy posts and piers. Just don't want to ride through another earthquake to see how well the reinforcing works. Oh, and I'm getting new double-paned windows in the cabin, so it will be much cozier this winter when the storms begin.
I'm worried about my friends in Florida with yet another huge storm hitting. My friend and fellow writer, Edna Buchanan lives in Miami Beach, and I always think of her and her cats and dogs when I hear the storm warnings. Edna writes terrific mystery books. She should; she has a couple of Pulitzer Prizes for her work as the crime reporter on the Miami Herald. I think if you read either her fiction or non-fiction, you will be hooked. Her non-fiction includes NEVER LET THEM SEE YOU CRY and THE CORPSE HAD A FAMILIAR FACE. I think I've read them both three times.And go to http://www.amazon.com/ or any bookstore Internet site and enter Edna's name and you will a bunch of titles of great mysteries! Edna is also a very nice person, and is always rescuing animals the way the rest of us do.
It's been both joyous and sad to see the crews saving animals after Katrina. I worry about the people too, but the babies and the animals just make me cry because they don't understand what has happened.
Well, the sun has just set and the western sky is apricot, silver, pale blue, with scudding clouds dropping low over the mountains--and that means it's time to go home and fix supper.
My very best to all of you!
Ann
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| Posted by Ann on Wednesday, September 28, 2005 at 11:43 |
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| Playing Hookey from Writing |
Wednesday Morning:
I know I said I couldn't blog for awhile as I finish writing the newsletter, but I guess I'm dragging my feet about starting this morning.
Love you guys who think I'm a super-woman. Oh, if you only knew. :*) I'm really good about writing and sticking at it even during all those years when all I got were rejections, but I've sure got my feet of clay. I envy women who are good housekeepers. Try as I might, I've always had dusty corners, way too many magazines stacked up, and often dishes in the sink. My late, ex-husband always criticized me for not keeping our house military clean. I'm a great cook, but not blessed by the cleaning genie. Now, finally, I can afford to have a gal come in to help me one day a week, but I still have so many animals running through with muddy feet and dropping hair all over. And I had to get the carpet ripped up in the living room because several of them marked it with . . .well, you know. Fingers crossed, the hardwood floors seem to have taken away the scent. So much for being perfect in that department, but I'm better than I used to be.
My garden has weeds, always, and I have arthritis in several joints that keep me from wanting to bend over to pull them! All these years, I should have remembered to get up and exercise every hour or so, but I thought I could just sit and write all day without its affecting me. And then I have that pesky hip replacement that sets off alarms in the airport every single trip I make! Some superwoman. . .
I'm not the only woman in America who had to raise five children on her own; I've just been so lucky that I finally was able to sell my writing and that meant I could be home with them when they got home from school. I truly feel blessed about my career,a nd every day I pinch myself and wonder if this is all really true. The one thing I'm proud of is that I can channel my energy and finish the books I start, even though there are times when family problems or other disappointments may make me want to pull the covers over my head or run away from home. My best friend and I have always said, "Some day, we're just going to run away to Montana and THEN they'll appreciate us!" but we've never done it. Moms just kind of keep on keeping on, I think.
I've been meaning to lose weight since I was 15, and I still have good intentions about that. Sigh. When I finally surrendered my head to a hairdresser last year, he was horrified and asked me who had been doing my hair because I had about 11 different colors and a really bad haircut. Well, I had been doing my hair--and it showed. And I never think I dress as well as other people. I realized about 20 years ago that everyone feels inadequate in some areas of their lives, and that we're all scared of new situations and tend to believe other people handle things so much better than we do. Me too.
But, if you think I'm super-woman, I am going to keep telling myself that. And I'm also really trying to get a life where I do things on weekends and can take a vacation without feeling guilty.
On another, more interesting, subject. I will explain again why Liysa Northon got such a short sentence when it is so obvious that she deliberately planned to kill her husband, Chris. All the most compelling evidence showed up after her trial had started: the emails she wrote to her father about wanting a gun to kill Chris, about her hopes to drown him, and all those screenplays that had a plot line about a woman killing her husband by doing something fatal to his head. These were in the laptop computer that she had reported stolen, but had really given to friends to hide. The prosecution team had no way of knowing if the judge was going to allow what was in that computer into evidence. If he had ruled it out, the jurors might very well have acquitted Liysa. She was in a small town where her family was popular and respected, she presented herself as a weak, feminine, domestic violence victim--and a lot of people bought that act. The State wanted to be sure she didn't walk away free and clear, and so they agreed to a plea bargain. It is a shame that she won't be locked up until her sons are grown men and better able to defend themselves when she gets out. But, at least, new laws have been passed in Oregon that will prevent her from inheriting Bjorn's money even if he should die. She won't get the million plus dollars that Chris left behind--one of her motives for killing him, I believe. She is busy in prison, sueing Chris's parents, and fighting back as they sue her civilly, sueing me, trying to get out through legal manueverings. Her best friend, I hear, is another husband-killer. She will be a relatively young woman when she gets out, but her personality will be the same. She still has a few people who believe in her innocence. She is very smart, but also blind to how she appears to others. Hers will be a continuing saga.
O.K. Now, I have to get writing on the newsletter. I was supposed to be on vacation this week in Oregon with my dear friend, Betty May, who has known me since we were both 17, but one of my children has some medical tests so I didn't want to be away. I'm hoping that maybe Betty May and I can go to the Coast next week and pretend we are still 17 again!
Thank you for your prayers for Karen. I believe they DO help, and will bring some peace and serenity to her. Every day, each of us meets someone we can help--even if it's only a smile and a nice comment, so we will do what we can to help. I never understood the need for being angry or vengeful to anyone, even though we also meet people who make us mad. Rage only makes us feel worse, I'm afraid. So as one of my dad's favorite hymns said, "Brighten the Corner Where You Are!"
Love to all,
Ann
P.S. While I've been being so benevolent, I do have to end with a peevish comment. Been reading about Britney giving birth, avoiding the "excruciating pain of labor" by having a Caesarian, spending so many thousands of dollars on private rooms, guards, a chef, blah, blah, blah, and it does make me want to barf. Think of what all that money could have done to help Katrina and Rita victims. Hope Britney realizes that motherhood requires a lot more than buying cute baby clothes! Hope Kevin Federline learns to pull his pants up, take off his silly hats, and goes to work. I am annoyed with People Magazine when they have such a chance to publish important stories about real people who have done amazing things despite all odds--and they seem to have caved in to the celebrity inanity! But I'm not mad, mind you. :*) |
| Posted by Ann on Wednesday, September 28, 2005 at 11:38 |
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| September 27 |
Tuesday Night
Well, I have a really good excuse for being slow in posting this time. I am spending every spare minute writing the infamously delayed newsletter! I just have to get it done this time, send it off to New York to be set in print, and it will be mailed out to everyone who has sent me a street or P.O. Box address. AND a copy will also be available on these website pages, or sent to you by email if I have your email address. I have been trying to compile a list of email addresses of everyone who writes to me. I suspect there will come a time in the next few years when almost everyone will be on the Internet, and the mailed-out newsletters will become obsolete. Right now, I have about 40,000 regular mail addresses.
The paperback edition of Green River, Running Red will be on sale by this weekend! Watch for an ad in U.S.A. Today on Thursday! It is a new format my publisher is introducing. Each month, only one of their titles will be published in a taller format with larger print, and will sell for $9.95, although less through all the stores who offer a percentage off. I have seen this format and it's much easier to read than a regular paperback. I'm honored to be one of the Pocket Book authors whose books were chosen.
Only two more months until Worth More Dead is on sale, so everyone who buys my books for Christmas presents for faithful readers can rest assured it will be available. I know some people think that true crime isn't very Christmasy, but an awful lot of people buy my books for stocking stuffers for their moms, wives, sisters, best friends. I won't be able to travel nationally to sign either of these books, but for readers in Washington and Oregon, I will be showing up close to you in November and December. Just keep watching the Home Page of these website pages for the places, dates and times. And, as always, I'll be glad to sign books you send me. The address is P.O. Box 98846, Seattle, WA 98198. Please enclose a self-addressed, stamped return mailer and a note on who I should sign the books for and anything special you would like me to say.
Speaking of that, I think I have about three books floating around my office that got separated from their return envelopes. If anyone sent me a book, and you didn't get it back within ten days, please let me know? I've been cleaning my office--no easy task--while I'm on vacation, so you never can tell what may show up. Authors aren't known for their organization, I'm afraid. We always make excuses and say you can't be both creative and organized, although my best friend is both.
Someone asked about buying court transcripts, and wondered if I went to trials to save the cost of buying transcripts by taking my own notes? Nope. Let me explain. When you consider how much it costs me for airfare, hotel rooms, renting a car, and hiring pet sitters to keep up the home front, it would be a lot cheaper to buy transcripts than to go to trials. BUT I need to be there to see for myself how the defendant acts, study the jurors, weigh witness testimony and watch body language. So much happens in a courtroom that isn't caught in the transcripts, although I've come to a place where I can almost "see" the person who is talking if I have only the transcript. Still, it's not like being there. So I always try to go to trials, even though it may mean being away from home for weeks or even months.
Why do transcripts cost so much? And so much usually means from $1 to $4 a page. Court reporters take their meticulous notes on special machines, and they have to transcribe them into words people can understand. In many states, they are paid to decipher their machines and it isn't easy. If they have not been asked by the D.A. or the Defense to transcribe their notes, writers just have to pay them. It's only fair, because this is how they make their living.In Delaware, for instance, court reporters have to buy their own office equipment and selling transcripts helps them do that. Sometimes, a prosecutor will make a copy of transcripts for you for only a dollar a page. If that happens, you are lucky. For one book, I paid $20,000 for transcripts because it was impossible for me to be there for the entire five month trial. (I was on a book tour for another book.) Even though these expenses are a business deduction, most of us starting out didn't have that kind of money. I know I sure didn't. But successful authors have to weigh what they will learn by having every single word spoken in a courtroom against the cost. I strive to be accurate, and I strive to recreate the entire scene for my readers. If you are just starting out, and making the bare minimun as I did in the beginning, you will have to be there in the courtroom, or find a kind prosecutor who already has a transcription that he may copy for you for the price of the copying. Don't expect a Defense attorney to give you a free transcript--you're probably going to write something unflattering about his client!
In addition to transcripts, I save newspaper coverage, letters from people who know the players in a case, videos of television coverage, tapes I make of interviews, scribbles on the back of envelopes, telephone bills, EVERYTHING. You will need to show the attorney for your publisher where you got your information, or your book won't be published. Believe me, sometimes I think of how easy and peaceful it would be to be writing fiction where you can just make everything up. But there is a certain challenge for a true crime author to find a way to uncover the whole story and make all the characters come to life on the pages.
I heard from Karen today. She is not doing well at all, and she is just worn out from fighting ovarian cancer which has metastasized to many organs. The best thing you can do for her now is to say prayers. She says her mother is with her, and that she will be moving in with her and they will have hospice care. So many of you gave her a lot of happiness when you sent donations to allow her to outfit her four children for school. Life isn't fair at all, I'm afraid. She is only 35.
You know how much I appreciate your very kind posts telling me that my books are important to you, and also the kindness you invariably show to others. You can see why I say my readers are the kindest, most non-violent people around. You read my books for the same reason I write them--to try to understand why anyone would grow up to become a killer. And then to try to figure out how we can stop this from happening so often.
Snakes? Do I have snakes after a rain? Nope. The only snakes around where I live are garter snakes, and they're friendly. When I was a kid, I used to carry them to school in my sweater pockets. And when my son, Mike, was five, he had a pet garter snake named Peter. We fed him chicken livers and he would always come back to his box outside at night, even though he would go lie in the sun during the day. I have a friend, Bill Haglund, a senior investigator for the Medical Examiner all during the Green River Murders, who had a whole family of boa constrictors in his basement. In cages, of course. Every Christmas season, I would go to dinner with Bill and Claudia and it was a yearly ritual for him to take a picture of me holding a 20 foot pet of his. I know that must make a lot of people squeamish, but not me. I'm not afraid of big old spiders either, but I am afraid of rats and Palmetto Bugs as big as my hand that I ran into when I was on Hilton Head Island.
At my house, we have raccoons, possums, foxes, otters, eagles, blue herons, seagulls, whales, seals, besides all the dogs and cats. And I've run into a big Mama Bear on a camping trip. I wasn't really scared, but I sure had respect for her.
It will probably take me about four more days to get the newsletter finished, so if you're not on the mailing list and want to be, let me know where you are. I hope that we will be able to mail it out within the next month.
For those of you who may live near Augusta, Georgia, I'm looking for a nice motel or hotel or apartment that rents by the month to stay in during the Bart Corbin trial that begins on January 8th. I've looked on the Internet and have found some, and a dear friend has offered me a cottage not too far away, but I'd still like to have a little more idea of what's available and if it's located near the courthouse? So far, I haven't found anything like the Marriott Suites where they have two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room. If you know of anything like that, would you write to me at AnnieR37@aol.com? Every time I go to a trial in a new place, it's kind of scary finding my way around, and exciting too. I don't think I'll be in Georgia ==Augusta and Atlanta--more than two or three months.
Well, the sun set while I wrote this, and the room is pitch dark, so I'm typing by touch. I'll be back with you all soon!
Ann |
| Posted by Ann on Tuesday, September 27, 2005 at 19:23 |
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| My Natural Disaster |
Monday morning,
Karen really stays on my mind, and I know that your support means a lot to her. I'm going to ask her if it's alright to give you her private email address as I think many of you will want to write to her directly. I have never met her, of course, although I have spoken with her on the phone. She appeared on this Guest Book about five months ago, and so many of you helped outfit her four children for school this year. She doesn't seem to have much--if any--family support, nor does she have a good relationship with her childrens' father, but I know she has one good friend. She is only 35 years old. Any emotional support you can give her will be a big help, I'm sure. And prayers help double. I'm not sure where her children will go if the chemo doesn't work miracles with her. I'm sure they are frightened, too.
On another subject, I don't know if I've ever told you about my own experience with FEMA and with almost losing my home. In 1997, I had three mudslides on my property, and each one was worse than the last. Although the city where I live would never acknowledge that they were at fault, the geophysical engineers who investigated told me that a leaky surface water drain above my land had not been replaced for 75 years, and when there was a snow fall on top of unfrozen ground, and that snow melted within hours, the system was overloaded and all the water and mud came down on me. The first time, I was able to hire workers to dig my porch out, and the second time, we covered my hillside with tarps and crossed our fingers that we'd be o.k. until the weather got dry enough to make repairs. The third time was the worst. I was talking on the phone to my best friend at 11 p.m. when my animals started to freak out, and then there was a WHOOSH and a crash. Along with rivers of mud, a tree at the top of the hill (which I had had cut down to a six foot stump just in case) came down the hill, bringing its root system which was about ten feet across. It stopped 8 inches from my roof overhang. When I looked out the back windows of my house, I could see only maple leaves and the doors were jammed shut. My phone went dead when the crash came. I had no idea what had happened outside and how bad it was, and I was all alone.
If you've ever wondered what you would save in time of crisis, I found out what I would save. I was working on two books, and I had notes, files, and a whole bunch of photographs that were so difficult to gather. I jammed the research for one book in one green trash sack, and the research for the other book in another. I grabbed my dogs, and we made it out the door on the water side, dragging the trash bags. The cats were much smarter than any of us, and had already whizzed out of the house. It was pitch dark and I didn't know what was going to happen next. Somehow, we made it to the little cabin next door where I write, and one phone line still worked--the FAX line. I was able to call my son, and he headed over to help. My friend had called the phone company and learned that something had cut the line. She didn't know if it was a person or a natural disaster who had done it, but she called the sheriff and demanded that someone check on me. (They didn't come out for more than an hour, though). A broken water main was gushing water the whole time until the fire department was finally able to get it shut off.
It's probably just as well that it was dark And I couldn't see all the damage--because a wall of mud had come down the hill BETWEEN my two houses, and it eventually grew to be 30 feet high. My home was red-tagged and I couldn't live in it for a year. I had to camp out in the cabin until that became too dangerous, and then with various members of my family. The stuff in my houses suffered from water damage and dampness and mud. I carried the precious things that mattered that I could rescue around with me.
FEMA came out and I thought that help had arrived. Not true. They were very nice and smiling, but for some reason I can't even remember, they told me I didn't qualify for help. I had insurance --extra insurance for natural disasters--with Lloyds of London, but they refused to pay me anything, saying that I must have known I was going to have a mudslide! I don't know how I could have known. There hadn't been one in this area for almost a hundred years. So I had to pay to have all the repairs, AND to assure that my property was stable. I won't even tell you how much that cost because you would faint. I just knew I loved it here so much, and all I could do if I didn't shore up the hill, put in a water drainage system, build retaining walls, and install a Soldier Pile Wall that goes 45 feet into the ground, that this land would be lost, and then all my neighbors' land would go, too. I would have just had to walk away and start over from scratch, paying for a new house. I never did think of just giving up, but it was a pretty bad year! So that's why I've written so many books ever since. I have managed to pay for it, and to replace trails and conveyances that lead to my houses. The city agreed to replace the leaking surface water drain pipe and to see that it was dispersed safely. And they gave me a new area to park up above. I had a wonderful crew of young men who worked from dawn until dark to save my place--with Martin Woodcock as the contractor, and Don White and Larry Ellington and a dozen others who never gave up even when some things went wrong, and we had to start over on a retaining wall.
Getting from one house to the other was always a challenge. I had to crawl over huge tree stumps, balance on board walks, and jump from rock to rock. One time, my wonderful old dog, Holly, fell in a mud hole and she was sinking fast when I pulled her out, she was covered in mud from her shoulders down. I felt like I always had dirt under my fingernails, in my hair, and clinging to my shoes. Drank water out of rigged-up system with a garden hose.
Whenever I see people washed out of their homes or who have suffered through other surprises from nature, I can really empathize with them. I managed to save all my pets,a nd they went with me wherever I could find a place to live. I wasn't poor and I didn't have little kids, so I realize I was much better off than most of the Katrina victims. I think I recovered my emotional equilibrium by burying myself in work. I actually wrote Bitter Harvest and A Rage to Kill while I was camping out one place or another. I had to completely replace the wonderful garden soil I had built up so carefully over 8 years because that rich dirt was buried under lava-like mud. Since then, I've never been really sure just what FEMA does to help people, and I would never buy insurance from Lloyds of London--although they probably wouldn't sell any to me. They cancelled me rather than helping me. Whenever I look at my flowers now, I am so grateful that we were able to build everything back up, and also that neither of my houses was in the path of the mud. I lucked out, and I've always believed that my collection of more than 70 angels kind of re-directed the mud. Now, my property is better shored up and protected than any other place in the area where I live. I've ridden out an earthquake or two since my place was put back together, and it was really scary, but the only thing that broke was a jelly glass and one stereo speaker pulled out of the wall. Even so, I recognize that human beings are always at the mercy of nature and the whims of fortune, as much as I love the beauties of nature and the often wonderful whims of fortune. And I trust in God.
So that is my story for today. I think that I try not to remember all the details of my mud slides very often; we made it through, and we're grateful--but sure wouldn't want to experience again.
All my best,
Ann
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| Posted by Ann on Monday, September 19, 2005 at 13:45 |
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| Sunday night |
Hi everyone,
What a wonderful almost-fall day in Seattle today was! Blue skies, bright sun, but getting cooler. Lucky that I love rain too, because that's vital if you are going to live in Seattle. We all learn to appreciate these Indian Summer days because along about November, the rains begin to fall. We almost always have a wind storm on Thanksgiving and at least some of us end up cooking a turkey on the outdoor barbecue grill.
I had lunch today with the man known as "Jack Kincaid" in my book, Dead by Sunset. He was the man who dated Dr. "Sarah," the anesthesiologist who was Brad Cunningham's fifth wife. Jack was very supportive of her and of Cheryl's family during the trial. Sarah adopted his and Cheryl's three sons, and raised them. The boys are all adults now, and have nothing to do with their father. Jack and Sarah remain very good friends, but any romance was really kind of blighted after all of Brad's trials, threats, etc. etc. They are still close, though. As you know, I keep in touch with the families and friends of the victims in all of my books, and I check in with the people in Dead by Sunset often. Sarah has retired from her career. Like I do (and like a reported 25% of all women over 50 do,) she has arthritis in her thumbs, and you need your hands so much when you're an anesthesiologist. And when you're an author. . I don't know if we women get our achy thumbs from peeling too many potatoes, changing too many diapers, or too much housecleaning. I'll bet a lot of you are nodding. It hits women right at the base of the thumb and it hurts like blazes, especially if you knock them against something. Fortunately for me, it doesn't seem to interfere with my typing, and I'm hoping it won't be a hindrance when I go to the two Corbin trials in Georgia and have to take notes 7 hours a day, five days a week. Some courts will let you tape, but most won't. And, somehow, writing the testimony and descriptions down myself helps me to remember all the things I need for my books. Dr. Sarah got up before dawn so many years to be at the hospital in Portland for early morning surgeries, and she did such a good job of raising Cheryl's boys. She deserves to have a happy retirement.
Got an email from Anne Marie Fahey's sister, Kathleen, telling me that they are still holding the benefit golf tournament, to honor Anne Marie, in September. This year, they've donated all the proceeds to the Katrina victims. (This book is And Never Let Her Go.) Tom Capano remains locked up on Death Row in Delaware, still trying every avenue of appeal he can to avoid the Death Penalty. Over the years, I've heard from quite a few woman who were in love with Tom, and stood steadfastly behind him even though most of them never have met him in person or knew him before he went to prison for killing Anne Marie. It always amazes me what fan clubs convicted killers have, and why women are drawn to them.
Also talked to Chris Northon's mom, Jeanne, this week. We talk fairly often (This is the book Heart Full of Lies.) They didn't ask me to write a book about their son's murder--In fact, I wrote to them and asked if they would mind if I went ahead with the story. They wanted the truth known, but it was still hard for them to talk about their loss. Liysa is still involved in sueing them (!) but I believe her case was thrown out by the judge. They have sued her too for Chris's tragic wrongful death. And she's also sueing me for ruining her reputation and showing her in a bad light. It's a legal round-robin! Right now, I'm not sueing anyone--and I never have. I guess if I were shut up in prison and had access to the library, I'd probably keep trying to get out, too, and try to find legal reasons to appear innocent. I know I don't even like to VISIT in prison. I hate the sound and feeling that comes when those heavy steel doors slam shut behind me. And I've been on the visitors' side in plenty of jails and prisons.
Watched a special on women in prison yesterday, and I don't see how they can bear being away from their children. Someone who had been in prison once told me that "You only serve one year of 'bad time,' and after that you acclimate." I don't know. Maybe, but I'm pretty claustrophic and I like my windows open at night, even when there's a blizzard outside.
Jeanne and Dick Northon started delivering "Meals on Wheels" this week to shut-ins and the elderly. They are very good people who are always trying to help someone else, even though they will never really recover from losing Chris.
Dan Jones, one of Chris's best pilot friends, volunteered right away to help the Katrina victims, and went to Louisiana where he is flying planes in with supplies and helping to rescue people. This is what Chris would have done, too.
I'll finally be working on the mailed newsletter this week, and will also update it on this website, so I'll have a lot more information about earlier cases there. And when I eventually get to write my autobiography, I'm going to tell a lot of the stories behind the stories that appear in my books. When people write and ask me to tell them how to be a true crime writer, I wonder if they realize what an impossible task that would be. It's taken all these years of trial and error, learning, stumbling, understanding all kinds of people--and caring about them sincerely--and going to school and to seminars so that I can understand forensic science, DNA, personality disorders, the law, police procedure, and on and on. Other reporters at trials are usually pretty good at sharing tips about the rules and regulations of the Court in their cities, but there's always something I don't know. When I get to Augusta, I'll be like the new kid in school once again. It always makes me nervous until I learn the ropes in a new place. I'm lucky that my best friend, Donna Anders, and my daughter, Leslie Rule, usually go with me for at least some of the time so I have someone I know to talk to, someone to be the co-pilot when I'm driving a rental car around a strange city and don't know where I'm supposed to turn! Leslie and Donna still tease me about the first night we were in San Antonio. We were all exhausted after the plane ride, and I was driving a rental car. I didn't realize that I'd turned into the wrong lane of a boulevard and was heading the wrong way. They kept saying, "Ann! MOve over! Move over, you're going in the wrong direction!" and I kept saying, Donna, Leslie. . .you're just very, very tired and you're confused." Turns out I was the one who was confused. Luckily, I figured it out when all the cars started honking at me, and the patrol car behind me didn't give me a ticket.
I hope you know that I enjoy reading your posts at least as much as you look forward to mine. We all learn new things about each other. I know that most of my readers have been through hard times and tragedies, too, but somehow we come out the other end of some pretty long, dark tunnels and we keep going.
Hope this next week will be a good one for all of you,
Ann
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| Posted by Ann on Sunday, September 18, 2005 at 18:10 |
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| 9/16 |
Friday Night,
Thank you for all the supportive email! Melanie C., I would not bar you from being a reader because you have complete faith in Barbara Bush and her son. Why would you stop reading my books because I've commented on a remark that Barbara made which is absolutely verified and validated? If you read that statement, I wonder what you could be thinking. Do you believe that the folks who lost everything in New Orleans are better off now than they were before Katrina hit? Unless you wear blinders, I can't believe that you do.
And I don't know what you mean when you say that my expressing my opinions "only causes problems." Is it better to bury our heads in the sand and ignore what is blatantly obvious? The problems exist, whether I comment on them or not.
My grandfather, the sheriff, and my uncle, the undersheriff and later the sheriff, and my cousin, the District Attorney, all ran on the Republican ticket. I vote independently for the candidates whose beliefs come closest to my own, although I do tend to vote for more Democrat candidates. More and more, I feel that "Judge not, lest you be judged--but keep an open mind! I happen to believe now that the national government, the state government of Louisiana, and the local government in New Orleans all failed their constituents. Neither human beings nor animals should be marooned without help for four days. And the blame should be spread around. Hopefully, everyone has learned something from this catastrophe. (By the way, please read the other posts here because lots of people came up with really good additions to my list of what we all need to have ready in case our areas are hit by storms, earthquakes, or terrorism.)
The things I believe in are pretty well set, and I'm not about to change: the dignity of all human beings no matter their color or how rich or poor they are; that animals have rights and that they love us without question; that those who harm others should be punished and shut away so they don't hurt anyone else; that your soul shines through whether you are young or old, whatever your sexual preference is, and I believe in God--whatever form he may take for different religious groups. I believe in the Golden Rule, as corny as it might sound. It just makes sense. Think about how other creatures feel and try not to hurt them, any more than you would like to be hurt. And, despite all the cruelty I have seen and written about, I believe in love. I don't think being angry cures anything at all. And resentment and bitterness can pickle your heart.
People who log on here may become angry when I occasionally spout off about something that troubles me or that makes me feel that I have to speak up. I will continue to do that. A website costs quite a bit, and it takes a lot of time that I don't really have. Therefore, I think I have every right to express the way I feel on my own website. If that makes you angry enough that you won't read my books any longer, so be it. Start your own website and you can say whatever you like. But please take a good look at what you are objecting to before you make sweeping statements?
We can all vote for whomever we want to vote for. And, in America, we can all say how we feel out loud. If we change our minds, it's not a sin to say we were wrong, and we've re-thought our conclusions.
It is cold in Seattle tonight. Fall comes in with so little warning. One day, we are basking in summer sun, and the next we're wondering if we should call the furnace guy to see if our heating systms still work. Just found out there's a hornets' nest over my furnace, so I'd best call the pest control guy first.
From your emails and posts, I gather that you'd like both family photos and crime case photos in my album on this site, so I'll do both of them. My webmaster says the sky is the limit, so I'll be busy sending her possibilities.
All my best to you!
Ann
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| Posted by Ann on Friday, September 16, 2005 at 21:26 |
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