March 5, 2013. I’m attending the School of Energy conference, learning about drill-bit hydrocarbons and the shale revolution here in Houston, the energy capital of America. A conference perk last night was Rodeo Houston. Around a hundred and fifty of us attendees piled into two big buses and went to Reliant Stadium, where we had our own box replete with food and drink. The view of the rodeo arena was awesome (see photo to the left), and the place is as huge as you’d expect of Texas. Above the arena was a display device with half a dozen high-def screens pointing every direction for closeup views of the action: saddleback bronc-riding, calf-roping, barrel racing in four-horse wagons…and death-defying bull-riding. A bull rider grips a a bull rope with one hand and has to stay astride the bucking beast…

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The Tucson Festival of Books is one of the top book fairs and author events in the country, and this year I’ve been invited to participate! It runs over the weekend of March 15-16 in – yep, you guessed it, Tucson, Arizona (where it is certain to be warmer than Boston, where I live). I’m not just looking forward to my three workshop presentations, but to meeting a few of my favorite authors from among the 2,000 who will be in attendance. Maybe you’ll drop in and I’ll get to meet you, too! I’ll be doing a solo workshop, “Writing Fiction for First-Time Authors.” I get to do this one because I’m not a first-time author any longer – not with the publication of Madrone, the sequel to Wild Blue Yonder, being published next month…

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    I watched a 1960 black-and-white Hammer Film, “Stop Me Before I Kill,” and couldn’t help but notice the main character, played by Claude Dauphin, donning this portable transistor radio.   It’s in a leather case and designed to be worn around the neck, as he’s doing in this scene in the kitchen with his wife, played by Diane Cilento.   I think he’s listening to a cha-cha.

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Did you know that once upon a time, books were published without an author biography or photo? Why do you suppose? The straightforward answer is that the work – the book – was intended to stand on its own. What the author wrote about, and the way it was written, was sufficient. We, the readers, appreciated – or rejected – a book for what it was, not who the author was, or how much of the author’s real life played a role in the story. The character was a character, and the author was the author. Of course, that’s all changed. Now, in many cases, a large number of people care more about the author’s personal life than what’s in the books they write. The exception being if it’s an autobiography or a memoir. If…

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