Moving on

As of today, I no longer own a house in England.  And I’m surprised to find how disturbing that is. This was my husband’s house, which he and his first wife bought in 1967 when he got a job in California, and she wanted a place in England for when their children were on holiday…

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Loving Ruth

Yesterday morning, news reached me that the woman who had picked me from a pile of obscurity had died.  92 year-old Ruth Cavin, the legendary Ruth, who started her career at the age of sixty and overnight seized the heart of the publishing industry; whose eye went to the essence of a book’s strengths—and weaknesses;…

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My thanks for a year

Well, that’s about done and dusted for 2010: anyone ready for a new year? I’ve never been much for New Year’s Resolutions—who needs to start a clean slate with a cloud of threat and incipient guilt over her head?  But taking down a heavily marked-up calendar whose dozen images you know by heart and replacing…

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To everything, a season

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. When I was new at this business of writing novels, I was also a young mother.  Which meant that if I had free time, I wrote.  If it was a school day, I wrote.  If it was a weekend and my…

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Talking oneself into heroics

A study at Columbia and Harvard, reported in TIME, suggests that acting powerful makes a person powerful in fact.  When tested before and after spending fifteen minutes in aggressive, macho, top-dog postures (the two on the left)— —the (male) reporter’s testosterone level doubled.  Doubled! I can believe this.  I am by nature an introverted, even…

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autumnal color

This is my favorite time of year.  One of the pleasures of late fall is the view out my window, of a single tree, probably a liquidamber, that becomes scarlet as soon as the frost hits it: To my amusement, I realized a couple of years ago that the people on that side of the…

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Laurie sticks up her head

I’ve been quiet here on Mutterings for several months, I know.  I didn’t realize that I needed a sabbatical from posting until I took a break, and it went on.  And on.  After five years here, I was feeling that I’d said it all before.  A sensation that’s bad enough when it’s connected with a…

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A Grand Game

As I said yesterday, 2011 looks to be all-Sherlock, all the time in LRK-land—and it will start in January, when I go to New York for the annual dinner of the Baker Street Irregulars and sign copies of: The Grand Game, Volume One Eds. Leslie S. Klinger and Laurie R. King The Grand Game is…

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All Sherlock, all the time

Eleven months ago, I went to New York and came home with a Secret Handshake and a Code Name. Well, actually I went to the annual dinner of the Baker Street Irregulars and was given the great and unexpected honor of being made an Irregular (investiture name: “The Red Circle.”  Which is a Conan Doyle…

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Guess the gent?

You need another hint as to the natty gent’s identity?  Here’s a photo of me (looking quizzical, which is quite appropriate) with his bronzed version (no, that’s not a euphemism for drunk.) It was taken in March:

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