News on Data-Gathering for Bestseller List

Sigh. The topic that never quite goes away.

The January 1 issue of Christian Retailing reports that the data-gathering boondoggle between CBA (Christian Booksellers Association) and ECPA (Evangelical Christian Publishers Association) is inching closer to a “merger agreement.” Let’s hope so. When these two organizations come to terms on this issue, perhaps we can finally have more accurate bestseller lists.

Background, for those who have joined us lately: Last November 15, during a four-parter on bestseller lists in both the Christian and secular markets, I ran a letter I wrote to CBA, questioning what was happening with our industry’s data-gathering that comprises the lists, and the CBA spokesperson’s response. (Paraphrase of that response: yes, we are working on it; look for news from CBA Advance in January.) These November posts were a follow-up to my series of posts on the subject beginning May 6 of last year. In that series I explained our industry’s various data-gathering mechanisms: ECPA’s STATS; CBA’s new answer to it, called CROSS:SCAN; and ECPA’s back-atcha answer to that in the form of PubTrack, a service originally scheduled to launch June 2006. PubTrack was supposed to be an advanced version of STATS that “includes security measures intended to allay retailers’ fears about shared data,” according to Christian Retailing.

But PubTracks never launched. The Christian Retailing article says it was delayed while talks between CBA and ECPA continued. Representatives from both organizations met in November. Mark Kuyper, ECPA President, is reported as saying that the two groups are “closer to an agreement than we have ever been.” However, apparently more negotiations are still needed.

The article doesn’t mention anything being announced at Advance, which begins January 27 in Indianapolis. So perhaps the letter I received from CBA hinting at such is the most recent word on the subject. We’ll see. Meanwhile, the January fiction bestseller list, reflecting sales in the month of November, was just posted in the last day or two. This list is still based on STATS, to which many stores don’t report, and once again it’s so late. (Do they really need to take five to six weeks to compile data from November sales?)

I won’t be attending Advance, but I will be listening for word on any more news. I would sure love to see this issue resolved. If any of you BGs knows anything more on this subject … do tell.

Editing for Tighter Writing--Part 2

Thanks to all you “brave souls” (to quote Kristy Dykes from yesterday’s comments) who edited yesterday’s passage. Today I give you the final as it will appear in Coral Moon. If you’re game, as an editing exercise you might want to print out both and look at them side by side. You may agree with some things I did and disagree with others. Of course, this is not your writer’s voice; it’s mine. So there are bound to be places of disagreement.

First, the scene. Then I’ll point out a few things.
-------------------------
Kill tonight—or die.

The words burned, hot acid eating through his eyes, his brain. Right down to his soul.
Only a crazy person would obey.

He slapped both hands to his ears, squeezed hard against his head. Screwed his eyes shut. He hung there, cut off from the world, snagged on the life sounds of his body. The whoosh of breath, the beat of his heart.

The words boiled.

His skull hurt. He pulled his hands away, let them fall. The kitchen spun. He dropped into a chair, bent forward, and breathed deeply until the dizziness passed.

He sat up, looked again to the table.

The note lay upon the unfolded Kanner Lake Times newspaper, each word horrific against the backdrop of a coral crescent moon.

How did they get in here?

What a stupid question. As if they lacked stealth, as if mere walls and locked entrances could keep them out. He’d been down the hall in the bedroom watching TV, door wide open, yet had heard nothing. Hadn’t even sensed their presence as he pushed off the bed and walked to the kitchen for some water.

A chill blew over his feet.

His eyes bugged, then scanned the room. Over white refrigerator and oak cabinets, wiped-down counters and empty sink. To the threshold of the kitchen and into the hallway. There his gaze lingered as the chill worked up to his ankles.

It had to be coming from the front of the house.

His skin oozed sweat, a web of sticky fear spinning down over him. Trembling, he pulled himself out of the chair. He clung to the smooth table edge, ensuring his balance. Then, heart beating in his throat, he forced himself across the floor, around the corner, and toward the front door.

It hung open a few inches.

They were taunting him...
------------------------------
Overall, I hope you’ll see how cutting certain words left the ones that really count. The ones that make you see, hear, feel the scene. For example, his original line: His skin oozed sweat, sticky fear spinning down over him like the web of a monstrous spider. In the rewrite, it becomes: His skin oozed sweat, a web of sticky fear spinning down over him. Changing the simile to a metaphor cuts words and leaves what’s important. …like the web of a monstrous spider isn’t needed at all. We all know where webs come from. Besides, the words sticky, spinning and web make us focus on the sweat-oozing fear, which is the point of the sentence—not the visual of some large spider making its lair.

When I serve on critique staff at writer’s conferences (such as at Mt. Hermon), manuscript after manuscript is brought to me for on-the-spot critiquing. Invariably, I see the need for cutting. Right there, I’ll show the author how to delete the unnecessary words. “See—if you take this away, and this, how your scene now zings? All the extraneous has been thrown off, and the verbs and adjectives that matter can shine.” This kind of exercise is one I go through with every book—in fact every edit stage of every book. It’s something I’ll keep practicing all my life. Hone, hone, hone.

The other thing you might notice is the breaking up of paragraphs for stronger beats. The paragraph His eyes bugged … goes from one in the original draft to three in the final. A new beat is introduced by the beginning of a paragraph. In the original, three beats were all stuck in one paragraph: his reaction to the chill and his searching for its source, his realization that it was coming from the front of the house, his pushing aside of fear and forcing himself to get up and go investigate. One of the “brave editing souls” from yesterday suggested that this line be cut: There his gaze lingered as the chill worked up to his ankles. In the weaker, three-beat-in-one paragraph, it did seem superfluous and slowing to the action. However, when I broke the paragraph into its three distinct beats, and each one then became stronger, I purposely kept that sentence as a way to draw out that first beat and add tension. I could picture this guy buggy-eyed, looking through the threshold as far as he could see, wondering what might lie beyond it.

I didn’t see the need for this paragraph edit until the rewrite stage, when I’d let the manuscript sit a month and could look at the scene with fresh eyes. Point to remember--sometimes the best edit isn’t always just cutting, or isn’t always the first fix that comes to mind.

Of course, editing’s never done. I could probably look at this scene right now and still make changes. But reality is, I have a schedule to keep. Writing to contract means doing the best I can in the time I’ve given myself (after all, I do set my deadline schedule), and then moving on to the next book. But always learning. Always learning.

Editing for Tighter Writing

Today and tomorrow, an editing lesson from my own work. (Which always needs editing. Badly.)

On November 16, 2005, I ran the first page of the prologue to Coral Moon and invited your comments. (Coral Moon is the next book in the Kanner Lake series. Its release date is March 23—meaning the date it starts shipping from the Zondervan warehouse. It’s called an “April pub” since it will start showing up on shelves in April.)

I’m going to run that original draft copy again today, then show you the final edited version tomorrow. Here’s the original:

Kill and live. Let live—and die.

The words burned. Through his retinas, into his brain, back, back, to the innermost center of neurons and synapses. There they bubbled and frothed like hot acid, eating away at his soul.

Only a crazy person would follow this command.

He slapped both hands to his ears, cradled his head. Pushed in, squeezing, until the pressure battled the pain inside. His eyes screwed shut, mind pleading for the horrific message to be gone when they reopened. He hung there, cut off from the outer world, attention snagging on the life sounds of his body. The whoosh of breath, the beat of his heart.

The words boiled.

Soon the pressure grew too great to bear. He pulled his hands away, let them fall to his sides. The kitchen spun. He edged to a chair and dropped into it. Bent forward and pulled in air until the dizziness passed. Clutching hope, he turned his gaze once again to the table. The note was still there.

How did they get in here?

His shoulders slumped. What a stupid question. As if they lacked stealth, as if mere walls and locked entrances could keep them out. He’d been down the hall in his bedroom watching TV, the door wide open, yet had heard nothing. Hadn’t even sensed their presence as he pushed off the bed and walked with blithe ignorance to the kitchen for some water.

A chill blew over his feet.

His eyes bugged, then slowly scanned the room. Over white refrigerator and oak cabinets, wiped down counters and empty sink. To the threshold of the kitchen, leading into the hallway. There his gaze lingered as the chill worked his way up to his ankles. It had to be coming from the front of the house. His skin oozed sweat, sticky fear spinning down over him like the web of a monstrous spider. Trembling, he pulled himself out of the chair. For a moment he clung to the smooth table edge, ensuring his balance. Then slowly, heart beating in his throat, he forced himself across the floor, around the corner, through the hall and toward the front door.

It hung open a few inches.

His breath caught. They were taunting him . . .

How would you edit this passage? Go on, take a stab at it. The final, which you’ll see tomorrow, doesn’t have anything new added except for one important phrase of info that ties to the title. Of course, you wouldn’t know how to edit this in. But other than that, this is an exercise in editing out. The weakness in my drafts is that I’ll tend to overwrite. In editing—and remember, we’re talking numerous stages of edits here—I’ll delete, delete, trying to hone down the writing to the tightest possible. You’ve heard that old adage “less is more.” That’s so often true in writing. Too many words of description weight the action. Take away every unnecessary word--even those that are showing action--and the scene will zing a whole lot more.

Of course, this is easier said than done. When I first turn in the finished manuscript to the editor, I have a month or longer to wait before receiving the editorial letter. In that time I don’t look at the book at all. So when I do the rewrite, I have those all-important “fresh eyes.” Amazing what needed edits those fresh eyes will see that the ol’ tired eyes, who’d read and reread the words a hundred times, could not.

Those of you who are game, go ahead and edit a few paragraphs. I’m used to it. :]

--------------------
Read Part 2

Starting 2007 Off Right

Happy new year, BGs!

Many thanks to those of you who left comments and emailed me, saying you missed your daily F&F read. What a blessing and encouragement you all are.

Well, I rested over the holidays. And I sorely needed it. I feel like a different person now, ready to jump in and do the work I need to do. I have some friends who had to write like crazy right through Christmas and New Years. That’s lousy, if you ask me.

Let’s start off 2007 with Psalm 18. Great psalm to pray in the new year. Go ahead—pray it aloud. Praise God and ask Him to bless and protect you this year. As usual, this is in the BPV (Brandilyn’s Prayer Version), which is taken from the New American Standard. Since it’s a fairly long psalm, I’m covering verses 1-3,16-36, and 46-50.

I love you, O Lord, my strength.
You are my rock, my fortress, my deliverer,
My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge.
My shield, the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
I call upon You, Lord, who is worthy to be praised,
And I am saved from my enemies.

God, You sent from on high. You took me.
You drew me out of many waters.
You delivered me from my strong enemy,
And from those who hated me, for they were too mighty for me.
They confronted me in the day of my calamity,
But you, Lord, have been my stay.
You have brought me forth into a broad place.
You rescued me because You delighted in me.

Lord, please reward me according to my righteousness,
According to the cleanness of my hands, recompense me.
For I have kept Your ways,
And have not wickedly departed from You.
All Your ordinances are before me,
And I’ve not put away Your statutes from me.
I want to be blameless before You,
And keep myself from iniquity.
Recompense me according to my righteousness,
According to the cleanness of my hands in Your eyes.

With the kind You show Yourself kind;
With the blameless You show Yourself blameless;
With the pure You show Yourself pure;
And with the crooked You show Yourself astute.
For You save afflicted people,
But haughty eyes You abase.
You light my lamp.
You, Lord God, illumine my darkness.
By You I can run upon a troop.
By You I can leap over a wall.

Your way is blameless,
Your word is tried.
You are a shield to all who take refuge in You.
Who is God, but You, Lord?
And who is a rock, except You?
God, You gird me with strength
And make my way blameless.
You make my feet like hinds’ feet,
And set me upon my high places.
You train my hands for battle
So that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
You have given me the shield of Your salvation,
And Your right hand upholds me.
Your gentleness makes me great.
You enlarge my steps under me,
And my feet have not slipped.

Lord, You live, and blessed be my rock,
And exalted be the God of my salvation.
You will execute vengeance for me
And subdue those who are against me.
Deliver me from my enemies, Lord.
Lift me above those who rise up against me.
Rescue me from violent men.
And I will give thanks to You among the nations, O Lord.
I will sing praises to Your name.
You give great deliverance to me.
Show me, as your anointed, much lovingkindness, Lord,
To me and to my descendants—forever.

Can I get an "Amen!" witness out there?

Merry Christmas and a Blogger Hijack

Finally switched my blogs to the new blogger yesterday. It was supposed to take a couple minutes. Two hours later, with this blog still stuck in cyberspace somewhere, I had to leave the house. Fortunately, by the time I returned hours later, the blog had switched over. Sorry to those of you who kept getting the "switching" error message yesterday afternoon. I must admit, however, even after the slow move, this new blogger makes it easier to post.

This is my Merry Christmas and Happy New Year post to all you terrific BGs who have so blessed my life. Thank you for stopping by to read. Thank you for your comments. For your friendship, your support and encouragement. This is a tough business, and we sure need each other. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all you have meant to me.

I will be taking all of next week off from blogging, as well as New Years Day. Forensics and Faith will be back on January 2. I will be looking at all the comments to yesterday's post and will cover all that I can in the new year. Please continue to leave your ideas in the comment section of that post. And if you'd like to leave your Christmas/New Years wishes to me and all the BGs here, go for it. Be as creative as you like. (Many of you are writers, aren't you?)

And so I leave you in 2006 with Christmas/New Years wishes for warmth and lots of eggnog. Oh, and let's not forget the sugar cookies with thick frosting. You might want to avoid the strychnine this time of year. And I hear spider rooms can be kinda creepy. Hot tubs are great--just check 'em out before climbing in if it's after dark. Jogging's great too, just don't do it alone through a wooded park. And if you're walking out to your car on a chilly morning ...(oops. You haven't read that book yet.) Hope the new year brings you gray gorilla surprises, S-Man license plate fascinations, a new book contract or two, and lots of page-turning books to read!

TODAY: Bailey--Merry Christmas From Everyone

...Here are some Christmas/New Years wishes from the Scenes and Beans posters to you:

Angie: Merry Christmas, all! Don't drink too much spiked eggnog on New Years. And for goodness sake--don't let your best friend surprise you with a dog as a gift.

Bev: Unless your best friend happens to know better than you. Merry Christmas, everyone...

Surveying Next Year

Yes, it's a survey. Those of you who hate taking 'em might as well run now. However, I promise to only ask you questions whose answers will benefit you. No "where do you bank?" and "what's your household annual income?" type queries. And no, I don't want your firstborn. (Mine is handful enough.)

If you've been reading Forensics and Faith for awhile, you know the rather electic-sounding verbage at the top of the blog's banner is true. Here you're likely to read anything from a crazy story in my life to thoughts on our spiritual journey, notes on craft, and discussions on our industry of Christian fiction. (And by the way--there's absolutely no question that y'all rock. I think I have the coolest BGs on the planet.) So, with that as background, here's your short survey:

1. What topic or topics would you most like to see covered here next year? (The more specifics, the better.)

2. Who would you most like to see appear as a guest blogger here? (An author of Christian fiction, a specific kind of person who works in the industry, etc.) You can name more than one.

3. Do you have a burning question about the industry or fiction craft you'd like answered? If so, what?

That's it. If you can handle it--go for it...

TODAY: Jake Tremaine--Christmas Decorations

Jake here. I told you all how Mable finally let Duke in the house, didn't I? Well, she did. Now she doesn't want me to tell this story, but I think it's only fair.

I made some real nice lures that day and used up all the beads I bought and had to go back for more. Mable told me to go and gave me a list of stuff to get at the grocery while I was in town and she said she'd keep Duke. She was in the middle of puttin' up the Christmas decorations and didn't want to go in town with no make up on. I'm glad I'm not a woman, I'll tell you that much...

Born to Die

Around the corner from our house in California, a huge star always brightens the sky at Christmas time. It's placed in a Sequoia tree near the top--and the tree must be 40 feet tall. The owner gets the thing up there using one of those crane deals that tree workers use to take down a tree branch by branch. That's the guy's business. Trees. For years he's used the accoutrements of that business as a ministry to light up our neighborhood with the Christmas star.

I was driving by his home last week when I saw him at his mailbox. I stopped to thank him for the star. "We love seeing it every year. Thank you for going to all that trouble to put it up. It's a blessing for us."

He was happy to hear my words.

Fast forward to last night, at our Coeur d'Alene, Idaho home. I was driving up the long incline that eventually leads to the turnoff for our bay on the lake. On my left, way up on the hill I spotted a large bright cross. Wow. Never seen that before. The thing must be really big for it to look so substantial from as far distant as the highway.

The cross--at Christmas time. The sight made my soul sing. How apropos is the cross in December. After all, Jesus came to die. He was born in a lowly state--to die in an even lowlier state. For me. For you. For all who will accept Him.

The star at Christmas makes me happy. The cross at Christmas reminds me of what this season is really about. The Savior coming here. Lying in wood as a baby ... so He could die on wood as a man.

The star made me smile. The cross made me want to get down on my knees and say, "Thank You, Jesus, for this season. Thank You for coming here to earth. For being born ... so You could die."

TODAY: Bailey Truitt--What Was in Those Cookies?

When my parents came for a visit last year, I was in the process of retrieving my measuring cups for the 1/2 cup of confectioners sugar needed for the fruit/nut cookies. Right when I was ready to dip out the white stuff the doorbell rang, and I ended up talking to our neighbors for half an hour. Meanwhile, Daddy was shuffling around in the kitchen, but he was gone when I went in there. I went to dip out the 10X sugar and saw that the 1/2 cup was already full. I didn't think a thing about it and added the extra 1/2 cup of 10X needed for the glaze...

Marketing Vs. Advance

Saturday’s edition of The Wall Street Journal ran an interesting article on numerous general market novelists who are opting to sign with a smaller publisher for little to no advance dollars. The pull? Extra attention given to marketing their books. These novelists are also given “higher than normal” royalty payments, so with the right amount of sales, they can end up earning as much or even more.

Among these writers are suspense novelist David Morrell, women’s fiction writer Eileen Goudge, and science fiction novelist Greg Bear.

Morrell estimated that his 28 books have sold 20 million copies worldwide. Still, according to the article, Morrell left his longtime publisher, Warner Books, “after concluding that he needed to jump-start his career.” Publishing now with Vanguard Press, a small company owned by Perseus Books Group, Morrell says he’s involved with every step of the marketing of his novel. Morrell turned down a six-figure advance from Warner Books to go with Vanguard for no advance.

Vanguard says it focuses on marketing a book three months before its release, and three months after. This gives a six-month push—much longer than the typical lead-up followed by a few weeks after a book hits shelves. Another small press, Melville House, is following the same model as far as advances—offering little to no money in order that more can be spent on the marketing.

This kind of thinking is exactly opposite of the norm. Typically, the view is—the higher the advance, the more money the house has riding on the book, and therefore the bigger the marketing budget will be. If the house pays nothing for the book, they have little to lose if it doesn’t sell well.

But this new tactic seems to be working for Morrell. He published Creepers with CDS, now called Vanguard, in September 2005, and was pleased enough with the results that he’s gone back to the house for his next one. Scavenger will release March 12, 2007.

Interesting, though. The article says Creepers sold 62,000 copies in hardcover. Doesn’t sound like that many copies to me—not when you’re talking a total 20 million copies of 28 books. But Morrell and his agent are pleased with the whole package—which includes selling of movie rights, audio, book club, and foreign rights to 17 overseas publishers. Plus the paperback edition, which hits stores soon with an estimated printing of 225,000 copies.

The article also notes other well-known authors who’ve chosen the smaller press route, including Stephen King. Hard Case Crime books published The Colorado Kid for an advance of under $5,000. And Kurt Vonnegut published his most recent book, A Man Without a Country, with Seven Stories Press, whose typical advances range from $1000 to $10,000.

In the end--marketing rules.

TODAY: Angie Brendt--A Killer Gift

Love at first sight? Not quite. Bev gave me a dog. She thought she was being helpful. After the murder and all in Kanner Lake, she felt I needed protection. What I need is a friend who asks what I want before she takes it upon herself to give it to me. I mean, a dog is almost like a child. It wants love, attention, and someone to clean up its dookey...

Writer Gifts

Please visit Charis Connection for today's post. Charis asked its authors to each recommend one great gift for a writer. If you have a writer on your Christmas list--you oughtta check this out. There are some great recommendations. And who knows, there might be a few things you'd like yourself.

As for me, I'll take the very first one, recommended by Angie, thank you very much. She's right--why be practical? It's Christmas.

TODAY: Bailey Truitt--Oh, My--Computers!

Here it is, Monday morning, and I, Bailey Truitt, should have a new post to put up for you. Except that I had some trouble with the computer, and everyone's posts that I had lined up are now all missing. How could this happen? Sometimes computers just boggle my mind...

In the Wilderness

Psalm 106:6 says (New American Standard): "We have sinned like our fathers."

Those "fathers" are the Israelites whom God brought out of Egypt. The Psalm then talks about the incredible miracles God performed to save his people from their oppressors. How He parted the Red Sea and led them through--while the Egyptian army followed and was covered by the waters and drowned. Israel praised God for His deliverance. They knew, with that drowned army and the sea now between them and their enemies, they were finally free from Egypt forever.

Then come verses 13-14:

They quickly forgot His works;
They did not wait for His counsel,
But craved intensely in the wilderness,
And tempted God in the desert.

The Psalm goes on to say how the Israelites continued to forget what God had done for them, even fashioning a gold calf to worship. Even so, God eventually led them to their promised land. But--(verse 24),

Then they despised the pleasant land;
They did not believe in His word.

As many times as I’ve prayed the Psalms, it was a couple years before God spoke to me through these verses. Israel “craved intensely in the wilderness.” As a result, even when God brought them out of the desert and into the good times He had promised them for years, they couldn’t see His goodness. They “despised the pleasant land.”

God said to me, “Brandilyn, don’t ‘crave intensely in your wilderness.’”

Every Christian has been brought out from his/her own “land of Egypt.” And at some point, after the high of deliverance, we all enter our wilderness times. It’s pretty hard to be content with God in the desert. To wait--and praise Him in the midst of waiting. But God’s pretty clear here—if we refuse to use such times to build up our faith, our hearts may turn hard. We can end up following our own version of the gold calf. As a result, we can become so bitter and self-focused and defeated, we won't even see the promised blessings God later brings our way. We will "despise the pleasant land."

Psalm 106 is one of the psalms I prayed this morning. Now I blog about it with a strong sense from God that someone out there needs to hear Him say: “Beloved, don’t crave intensely in your wilderness.”

TODAY: Jake Tremaine--Christmas Gift for Mable

Well, it's me again--Jake. I thought this dang bloggin' idea of Bailey's was a crock, but I got to admit I'm hooked. Tell the truth, though, I could use some help from you people. I don't know what to get Mable for Christmas. Everyone says I come up with the dumbest gifts, but I just don't see it. I get practical fun gifts that I'd think any good woman would love. Not thoughtless gifts like some dolts buy their wives, but nice lovin' gifts...

Another Strange Jogging Event

A few days ago I was jogging my regular five-mile route through a neighborhood about a mile away. I happened to glance across the street at a house with a large picture window. Through that window I saw an adult-size gray gorilla, wearing a green tank top, sitting in an armchair.

That brought me to a halt.

I stared.

Mind you, I’ve been jogging this same route for the twenty-one years we’ve lived in this California home. Never before have I seen a gray gorilla through said picture window of said house. Matter of fact, I’ve never seen a full-size gray gorilla anywhere on my route.

I stared some more. Only then did I realize the thing was a stuffed animal.

Who on earth would own a life-sized stuffed gorilla? And put him in an armchair in front of the TV? And dress him in a green tank top?

I continued my run, pondering these questions. And then my wayward mind starting doing its thing...

Twenty-one years running by this house—and I never knew until now about the gray gorilla. Was it new? Or had I just not noticed it before? (Hard to imagine.) What about the people who lived in that house—the house I saw every day? I realized I knew nothing about them. I mean, you think you know a neighborhood…

But you don’t really know people, do you. You run by a house every day, yet have no idea what’s inside it. The horrible things that could be there ... The unspeakable plans... The actions committed ...

The dead body in the basement.

(You knew I’d get to a dead body sooner or later, didn’t you.)

Actually, we don’t have basements in California. So make it an attic. Better yet, an extra freezer in the garage. (Keeps longer and less smell that way.)

The next day I checked the house's picture window. The gorilla was gone.

What does this mean? Where did he go? Who are these crazy people?

Perhaps in some future book I shall discover the answers to these questions. Oh, the possibilities! In the meantime, if you’d like to supply a few answers of your own, be my guest. Maybe they'll end up in the story...

TODAY: Janet Detcher--Tough Chicks

Over the years, Hank and I have had the privilege of doing a bit of traveling, most of it with the church, doing missions projects. We have taken separate teams of men and women to do various kinds of work. While you might assume that the women may settle for "domestic" types of involvement, (and there has been lots of that!) you will be surprised to learn that New Community Church also has some 'tough chicks' in our midst. We took a trip to Jamaica a few years ago and mixed and poured concrete in a bucket brigade up a ladder and across a roof...

Christmas Video!

A few days ago my husband brought home a Christmas CD. He thought he was buying orchestral music. Well, sort of, in a rocky way. It was the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Over the weekend I popped in the CD to listen to it.

One song caught my attention. “Hey,” I know that!” It’s the tune for that totally rad video of flashing Christmas lights that I watched over and over again last year. You all probably saw it somewhere, either on the Internet, or perhaps a little part of it on the Miller Light beer commercial.

Well, my goodness, the Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s song (“Wizard in Winter”) got me in the mood for watching the video again. Besides, it’s Christmas season. So I went hunting on the Internet. Took me all of about 10 seconds to find it.

Turns out, according to snopes.com, the light show was the work of Carson Williams, an electrical engineer from Mason, Ohio. I always wondered about the guy’s poor neighbors. I mean, I love the music—but every night, over and over again? Turns out Williams put up signs for all the folks who drove to see his display, telling them to tune into a certain low-frequency radio channel to hear the music. The neighbors got to sleep after all.

Williams sequenced 16,000 lights to the music in his 2004 show, and over 25,000 in his 2005 version (at a cost of $10,000). Unfortunately he had to discontinue his display after traffic became so snarled that someone had an accident. Now Williams is showing his display in Heritage Oak Park on Highway 42 from December 2 through 31. Man, I wanna go! Anybody from that area who can tell about it firsthand?

Another of Williams’ displays at his house can be seen here. The music’s not nearly as much fun, though. Give me the TSO any day.

TODAY: Leslie Brymes--It's Leslie Again

Yup, I'm up again already. Apparently everyone else around here is too busy doing Christmasy things.

Speaking of Christmas, have you seen the number of people in the shopping malls these days? A gal can't even walk around without bumping into someone and their Christmas purchases. It's calmer here in Kanner Lake, of course; but when a friend in Coeur D'Alene wanted to go shopping together at the mall in downtown Spokane, I got my share of people, let me tell you...