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Morgan Mandel
59, Female
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Book Clubs by Margot Justes
You never know when a simple sale will lead to greater exposure. This summer I participated in the Frontier Days in Arlington Heights, IL. along with June Sproat and Morgan Mandel; we sold our books to a woman who was chairperson of a book club, and she asked us to speak at one of their meetings.I have spoken at a couple book clubs and expected eight to ten people to attend. The event was held at a lovely country club and we were asked to stay for lunch, so I was looking forward to a small intimate event.
What a delightful surprise when I walked into the room and found about eighty members in attendance and of course all book lovers. Nirvana.
It was absolutely wonderful, I sold quite a few books, all my promotional material went and the group thanked us for the informative and great presentation.
The one thing I always walk away with from a presentation like that is inspiration and motivation to finish my projects.
Books are an incredible escape to wondrous worlds, and I can’t imagine never reading a book-but since I started writing I find that writing holds the same form of escape for me, now I’m actually creating my own little heaven.
I’m very excited that A Hotel in Paris is now available in the Kindle format, and the link is already set up on my website.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving Holiday.
Till next Saturday,
Margot Justes
A Hotel in Paris ISBN 978-1-59080-534-3
Art brought her to Paris, then a stranger’s death changes her life.
Missing ISBN 978-1-59080-611 1
www.mjustes.com
available on amazon.com
KAYE BARLEY IS ALMOST 60!
Kaye Barley with her Aunt, Eve Burchette, Harly, and her Mom, Hazel Wilkenson.But oh well, there you have it. Birthdays happen. The milestone birthdays sneak up on us. And while we’re bemoaning those milestone birthdays, other things happen. Like your mom having a birthday. We recently celebrated my mom’s 83rd birthday. At least, I did - only to be told the next week that she had actually just turned 82. Oh, the guilt. Hopefully, she’ll forget that unforgivable lapse. Especially seeing as how I did the exact same thing last year!!
Mom-Hazel Wilkinson
Funny, though, for all the talking she does about her memory and how bad it is, there are things she never forgets. Her only child forgetting how old she is might just be one of them (and as it should be). Before you all start thinking I’m being unkind, please know that she and I have, and always have had, a great relationship. She’s my buddy,and I feel pretty sure she would tell you that I’m hers.
We have not always been best friends though. When I was growing up, she never once let me forget that she was “The Mom.” She didn’t give a twig about being my friend; figuring I already had lots of friends, but I only had one mom, and it was a job she took very seriously.
And she did it well. For one thing, she read to me. And took me to the library. And she taught me how to bake Snickerdoodles. Like some of you, we’ve passed that curve of our family growing larger, and are on the other side of the slope, where its getting smaller, so when we invite family to spend the weekend to celebrate the occasion of Mother’s birth its not as though there’s a house full of people. Just me and Donald and Harley. My mom, her sister Eve, and Eve’s husband J.T. A small little group.
My mom is the second oldest in a family of 11. They’re not all still with us, and those who are live pretty far away and aren’t able to travel long distances for get-togethers any more.
It was a fun weekend. We did all those things families do when they get together - whether they’re a big group, or a small group. We ate too much. We stayed up too late. We told the same stories we tell everytime we’re together. We laughed hysterically, and boo hooed a little.
And we missed the ones who were not there.
It was a perfect weekend, melancholy and nostalgia notwithstanding, and I loved every second of it. But oh laws, did I get tired. Seemed like every time I turned around someone was saying “sweetie, would you bring me a fresh cup ofcoffee/coke/wine/whatever, please.”
At one point during the weekend when I felt as though everyone was well settled,and that they were doing fine at entertaining themselves, and that they all had their beverage of choice, I slipped off to the bedroom to close the door and read. I’m used to a lot of quiet time, and quiet time is in short supply in an itty bitty house with three extra people.
This was just what I needed. I am after all, almost 60! I get tired too you know! But then, you know what? The door opened and peeking around at me was this very short little woman with fluffy white hair, and the sweetest smile and thebrightest eyes, wanting to know if I was O.K. I invited her in and she climbed up on the bed next to me, took my hand and thanked me for having her over for her birthday. And she told me what a good daughter she thought I was.
Next thing I know here comes another woman, this one a little taller, but with the same sweet smile and the same bright eyes - peeking around the door at us,wanting to know if we were O.K. We invited her in and she climbed up on the bed with us. She patted my hand and told me what a good niece she thought Iwas. I put my book away, fluffed up pillows for us all, and asked who might want a fresh cup of coffee.
Quiet time and that book would be there tomorrow when everyone else had gone home. Tomorrow I can go back to being almost 60. Today it feels nice being 6 and being told what a good girl I am.
Kaye Barley
Kaye -- this was lovely, well put, so well put. Loved the way it came full circle! - Rob Walker
TWILIGHT at Midnight Tonight! by DL Larson
If you're a Stephanie Meyers fan, you probably already have your ticket bought and will be standing in line at the theater before suppertime tonight! TWILIGHT has a midnight showing and folks, mostly teen girls and adult women, are anxious to see if the movie will be as good as the book.It's science-fiction, vampires! Edward and his family live in Washington where the sun doesn't shine all that much. He looks seventeen and attends high school where Bella, a new student who just moved in with her dad, is trying to adjust to her new life. This budding love story has exploded into a series of books, four at the last count.
Here's the scoop on author, Stephanie Meyers:
~ she had a dream and had the foresight to commit her experience to paper.
~ she wasn't a professional writer and nearly gave up because she didn't understand the marketing process of publishing.
~ her family encouraged her to keep trying to get her work published.
~ she didn't know the first thing about queries, proposals or what a literary
agent is, or what they are needed for.
~ she sent her ideas out anyway. (to 15 top houses I believe)
~ someone noticed her work and asked for more!
~ they asked for a three book contract!
So, how does that affect us as writers? It means the American dream is still alive! We too can continue to dream, commit our thoughts to paper and, and .... work hard to get recognized!!!!! We don't need to have all the answers before we step into the publishing world. We just need a great story and the guts to show it to others. It always comes back to that.
Remember show and tell at school? Some kids were horrible at showing what they brought, no matter how intriguing the object was, while others could bring a dirty rock and make it seem the most interesting possession. The delivery was the secret to success. And so it is still when dealing with the publishing world. You gotta wanna! Gotta deliver the goods! Gotta believe in yourself! and ... Gotta have what others want! (I'm talking about a good story here:)
And of course I know about Stephanie Meyers TWILIGHT because I'm a children's librarian!! TWILIGHT is a best-selling YA book! (Young Adult for you nonlibrary type folks) I know all about "Opening Night" because it was on the front section of last night's paper! duh! And I went to the Stephanie Meyers you tube sight. (did I spell that right?)
And if you happen to be a young man, you might want to buy a ticket for tonight's showing, or read the book; for heavens sake, do something to get involved with all the hub-bub! Talk about a great conversation starter! Young women everywhere will be soooooo impressed.
Enough with the match-making. I can do no more here.
Til next time ~
DL Larson
PS: sorry I didn't post an excerpt from one of my WIP, but I wanted to share this with you instead. So ... I'll keep in mind I owe everyone a WIP tidbit.
Girl of My Dreams by Morgan Mandel Excerpt
Since a lot of us are doing excerpts, I may as well add one to the mix. There's an excerpt from my romantic comedy, Girl of My Dreams.
CHAPTER ONE
“NOT THAT.”
Groaning, Hollywood producer Blake Caldwell brushed a strand of black hair from his eyes. The latest news from his assistant, Jillian Baker, was grim. Scores of contestants from his premier television show had rushed from rehearsal and were crammed into the ladies room upchucking.
“I’ve called an ambulance. Do you want me to go with them?” she asked.
Her voice was muffled. He could hear toilets flushing in the background, along with other unmentionable sounds he didn’t care to identify.
“Can you give me a head count? How many are left?”
“Wait a minute. I’ll check.”
Blake’s heart pounded. His shirt stuck to his back as he awaited the verdict. A few days ago, before the power outages, he’d had time to spare, but now he was up against the wall. It was two hours before the audience shoot. The stage and script were set for twenty-five contestants. Could he deliver them?
“Twenty-six are gone between the originals and alternates,” was the answer.
Fresh perspiration sprang to Blake’s forehead. “We’re one short. We’ve got to do something.”
The ratings were down. Mecca was dying. It could not survive another season without a hit. Neither could he. He’d sunk time, money and effort into this project. The boys upstairs had given it a go, only if he’d produce and direct it. This was his chance to prove he could make it without the connections of his actress-mother Barbara Branton. A foul-up would turn him into a has-been at the age of thirty.
“Blake, should I go with them?” Jillian asked again.
Her voice was alert and in crisis mode.
“You’re not a doctor. I need you here. We have a show to run.”
Almost as soon as he’d hung up, he found Jillian standing before him. Through all the commotion, her hair was still pushed back from her face and her glasses perched firmly on her nose. He had to hand it to her for keeping her cool.
“I’ve called food management and alerted them of the situation. They’ve closed the cafeteria,” she said.
“Good. We don’t need anyone else sick. The coordinators were hit, too. What about the survivors?”
“They’re already in makeup.”'
Blake rubbed his chin. “Fine. Now, all we need is number twenty-five.”
Thinking, he stared straight ahead. He had a feeling the answer was right in front of his nose, if he could only see it. His loyal assistant stood at attention, ready to spring into action. Hard-working, intuitive, creative, Jillian was a miracle worker. She always came through for him, but this time he couldn’t fault her if she failed.
A gleam flashed in her eyes. “I’ll do it. I’ve read the routine. It’s only one episode. He won’t pick me. Then I’ll be through.”
He stared at Jillian. She wasn’t as striking as his hand-picked contestants or their twin-like alternates, but certainly she was no dog. Sure, her suit was circa 1980 and her shoes looked like they could stick out of the bottom of a nun’s habit, if nuns wore habits any more. Okay, so Jillian wasn’t the world’s greatest dresser. Wardrobe could fix that. She had a certain charm, was over twenty-one and legal. Ditch the Coke-bottle glasses, pat on some makeup and she’d pass. But…
“It won’t work. For one thing, there’s the employment clause. Mecca employees can’t enter.” Blake stood up. “I don’t have time to round up another contestant. Can you handle it? Just grab a good-looking, legal-aged girl from the lot. Give her the quick sell. Play up the part about hooking a millionaire. We’ll dummy down the routine, stick her last in line and let her take her cue from the others. Can I count on you?”
“You’ll have your contestant,” she said.
Something a bit off kilter flickered behind her glasses, then disappeared. Blake didn’t have time to analyze it. He had a show to run.
--------------
If you enjoyed this excerpt and want more, here are the buy links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_gw?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=morgan+mandel
Hard Shell Word Factory: http://hardshell.com/Search.aspx?Keyword=morgan+mandel
My turn! Excerpt
Debra posted her WIP ... what a great idea!! So I'm going to copyright, er, copy her. Here's the beginning of my WIP, "The Adventures of Guy ... to hell and back."
Here goes:
“Did you know that there’s a plastic island in the Pacific Ocean?” Knob asked the checkout girl conversationally.
The girl had multi-colored hair, black lipstick, a bunch of piercings and … until Knob said something to her … a lidded look of boredom.
“Um,” she said, almost startled out of her teenagerism.
“Yeah,” I snickered, sliding a Snickers on the conveyer belt, “Ken and Barbie are its King and Queen.”
Behind me, Thurman was watching a commercial on a small television mounted next to the candy display. “They’ll put a television anywhere nowadays,” he muttered.
Knob looked back at me with the ‘teacher-look’ that he must have picked up during his three years as a college sophomore, “Seriously, Guy. There’s a plastic island about twice the size of Texas floating in the Pacific.”
“Um,” the checkout girl shot a nervous glance at the customers beginning to line up.
Thurman tore his eyes from the television and frowned, “A plastic island? I’ve never heard of that.”
“That’s because they don’t want you to know,” Knob said.
“They?”
“Yeah, they.”
“Who’s they?”
“They, are, um…you know…”
“Sir?”
Knob turned back to the Crayola-haired girl, “Yes?”
“Sir. All I needed to know was paper or plastic.”
“Oh, that. Neither. Give me one of those recyclable bags, okay?”
As we pulled away from the grocery store in the Quest Mobile, an old Town Car limo that Knob picked up for five hundred bucks plus a thousand dollars in interest, Thurman asked, “So tell me some more about this plastic island.”
“There’s no plastic island,” I sneered.
Knob navigated around a pothole and shot me a look. Swish, no rim.
After a moment he continued, “Actually, it’s been pretty documented. There’s a huge sludge-like island weighing millions of tons floating in the middle of the Pacific. It’s caused by plastic straws, bottles and other trash that rain washes from the storm drains in California and Japan into the harbors, which then float out to sea collecting where the trade winds converge. The sun’s UV rays break the plastic down into little pieces. Even worse, fish eat the pieces, so it all comes back to us in the form of our food.”
“Nice monologue, Knob,” I said.
“So we’re eating plastic fish?” Thurman asked.
“I’ve heard about that,” a voice said from the back of the car.
We all would have jumped … but didn’t … mostly because our last dose of caffeine was over an hour ago. That, and it’s kinda hard to jump while sitting in a limo. Instead we just kind of jerked like we’d been carpet shocked.
“Who …?”
“Huh …?”
“What …?”
“It’s me,” the voice said.
“Who’s me?” Knob demanded, viciously yanking the wheel to miss another pothole. His passengers rolled right like marbles in a box.
“Aaagh!”
He swerved again. We marbles rolled to the left.
“Aaagh!”
The car righted itself.
“Me … Seth,” Seth said.
Seth’s my little marble, er, brother. He’s not so bad for a little brother, so we let him hang around.
Knob grinned, “Oh, yeah. I forgot you were in here.”
“I was chilling to my i-Pod,” Seth said.
Another violent swerve and everyone’s marbles rolled again.
“What the heck is it with these pot holes?” Knob grumbled as he fought with the wheel.
“I can tell you about that, too,” Seth said.
“About what?” Knob asked.
“The potholes.”
“What about the potholes?” Thurman asked.
“I know why they’re there,” Seth was busy dialing up a new song on the I-Pod.
“Um, because of freezing and thawing and stuff like that, right?” Knob asked.
“Right. That’s how they happen. But the reason they didn’t get patched up is because patches are made from petroleum products,” Seth said.
“So?” Knob asked.
“So because of the price of oil it’s getting too expensive to fix potholes.”
Knob gave him a look through the rearview mirror, “Where do you learn this stuff?”
Seth shrugged, “Civics class.”
“ I always wanted to take one of those classes,” Knob mused.
“You did take Civics … three times,” I said.
“Oh, no wonder …”
Norm
www.normcowie.com
The Adventures of Guy ... written by a guy (probably)
The Next Adventures of Guy ... more wackiness
The Heat of the Moment
Missing (coming Feb 09)
Fang Face (coming Aug 09)
Morgan Mandel's Page
Profile Information
- Age:
- 58
- Hometown:
- Chicago,IL
- A Little Bit About Me:
- I'm an author with a mystery called Two Wrongs by Morgan Mandel available at www.hardshell.com,www.amazon.com and by order at bookstores. I also wrote a romantic comedy, Girl of My Dreams, coming out January, 2008.
My day job is a legal secretary, but my true jooy is writing. I graduated from DePaul University. I belong to Romance Writers of America, Mystery Writers of America, EPIC and Sisters in Crime.
I love country music, slot machines, bingo, flea markets, rummage sales, arts & craft shows.
- Website:
- http://www.morganmandel.com
- Favorite Music:
- country music
- Favorite TV Shows:
- Dog Whisperer
Everybody Loves Raymond
Jay Leno
Design on a Dime
Reba
- Favorite Websites:
- www.morganmandel.com
http://bookplace.ning.com
Add me as a friend
Anyway, if you send me a friend request, I can accept that way.
Thanks,
Morgan Mandel
Morgan Mandel's Photos
Morgan Mandel's Blog
New Video of My Dog, Rascal, is up on You Tube
I did a video of my dog, Rascal, on vacation at the Blessing of the Animals for St. Francis Day, while we were in Woodruff, WI. Rascal is the one with the black eye. (G)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0QXRde-FOI
Enjoy!
Morgan Mandel
Posted on October 13, 2007 at 7:51pm —
5 STARS FOR TWO WRONGS BY MORGAN MANDEL PLUS ANOTHER GREAT REVIEW!
TWO NEW REVIEWS FOR TWO WRONGS
I'm very pleased to have received two new reviews.
The most recent one, from George T of Pop Syndicate, gives TWO WRONGS
"Two Wrongs by Morgan Mandel is a thriller
Posted on August 7, 2007 at 8:02am —
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