Contemplating a mercy killing

This weekend, I contemplated committing a mercy killing. I was running and could see something on the road up ahead. The crows were hopping around it, looking excited. It was a squirrel, lying on its chest. There was some blood on the road but no visible injuries. But it wasn’t moving, except every now and then its tail would lift. I stared at its unblinking black bead eyes and tried to believe it was dead and that only the wind was moving the tail. Then I saw the tiny thrum of its heart, very fast. Earlier this summer, I found a beetle in our driveway, lying on its back, legs waving in the air. I carefully turned it over. It flipped back. I carried it over to the grass and told myself it would recover. I found it there in the morning, dead. And knew I should have killed it earlier. Now here was this squirrel. And a non-native squirrel. Squirrels, alive and dead, are a dime a dozen in our neighborhood. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Western squirrels that should be here, all pushed out by Eastern squirrels. So Audubon wouldn’t care. And it was too early for a vet’s office to be open. That left me and the dying squirrel and an empty street. I thought about hitting it in the head with a rock. I thought about trying to move it off the road. But then I realized it might be better if another car came along and finished it off. There seemed nothing I could do, so I ran on. If the squirrel was still there after I came back from my five-mile run I decided I would do something about it. We have an old bucket and a shovel. I would drown it. I know I couldn’t really speak for the squirrel, but it seemed better to die fast than to die slow. But it would be about 50 minutes until I returned. And that seemed too long. So I turned around after two blocks. I had only been gone for a few minutes, but the squirrel was just - gone. I don’t think it ran off. It hadn’t looked capable of running off. A minute earlier, the crows had been competing to pluck out its eyes. I think another neighbor took it in or dealt with it. I’ve since heard from a vet that you should pick up an injured squirrel (with a towel) and put it in a box. In a couple of hours, you’ll know whether it will get better or not. And if not - well, the vet had the same answer. Drown it. Commit a mercy killing. I’ve been thinking how loaded the word commit is. You commit sins. Crimes. And when you are committed to something, there is no turning back.

I'm teaching again this fall in Portland

I'm going to be teaching mystery and thriller writing again this fall in Portland. With two books a year (one adult and one YA) for the foreseeable future, this will probably be the last time I do this for a while. I've got two spots left. The 10-week class will be begin Sunday, September 13, at Annie Blooms Books. Email me if you are interested in learning more. aprilhenrymysteries (at) yahoo (dot) com.

The mail I get

This week I got an email with an offer. Stripping out the contact info, it says: === I have written an action-adventure novel (complete at 206,000 words). The work has been has been edited, and it has undergone extensive rewriting. It should be awfully close to publish-ready! Due to a recent financial disaster, I’m forced to sell the manuscript outright as quickly as I possibly can. My goal was to have it published, but that is no longer an option. I need whatever money I can get from this work as quickly as I can possibly get it. Call it an emergency, and you won’t be wrong by much. The book offers plenty of action, drama, and intrigue; a touch of romance, a few near-disasters, and a number of scenes that will touch your heart. I know you’re a busy professional. I also know the book has the potential to become a serious “hit” for someone with foresight who has the ability to do something with it. === A. 206,000 is too long. At least twice too long. B. Why would an author buy someone else's book, when she could write her own? C. And why would a publisher buy a book from someone who hasn't authored the book? Pretty much every publisher right now wants an author who has a platform, or failing that, someone who is willing to promote, part of which involves telling about your relationship to the book you wrote. D. Nothing right now is a sure thing in the publishing world. E. And who says authors have a lot of money - money that they want to throw at something that is definitely less than a sure thing? F. I hope you have a back up plan.

Spider on the Freeway

On Monday, I had lunch with some folks I went to high school with. One woman I hadn't seen in more than 20 years turns out to be married to literary agent Chip Macgregor - which made for interesting lunch table conversation. For us, at least. As I was driving there, I noticed a large spider crawling near my door. I HATE spiders. Then it began to drop down on a web - heading straight for my thigh. I shrieked, rolled down the window, and tried to brush the web so that the spider would land outside the car. All while maintaining my lane and traffic flow. Instead, I just broke the web. The spider fell to the floor of my car. And promptly disappeared. I stomped around with my left foot while still staying at 65 with my right foot. I finally had to give up. I couldn't see it (it's actually really hard to see the footwell without moving your legs, which isn't a good idea when you're surrounded by cars). But the whole time, I kept feeling the tiniest of tickles on my sandaled feet and bare legs.

An open letter to folks at the gym

Dear Anonymous: I know it's easy to drop your keys/water bottle/Blackberry/sweaty towels on the nearest piece of equipment, but what about those of us who actually want to use it, but don't want to violate the unspoken "don't touch my stuff' rule? Dear Middle-Aged Guy in the White Snake T-Shirt: Dude, I know it seemed like a genius idea to cut off the sleeves to give yourself more mobility. But what possessed you to cut out the sides as well? I could see way more of the reason you decided to start going to the gym than I really wanted to. Dear Guy with the I-Pod Who Did One-Million Rapid Sit-Ups with Rabid Intensity: Maybe you can't hear yourself over your music, but the rest of us can hear your loud pants and groans, as your breath gets faster and faster. It's like porno without the visuals. Just sayin'.

The end is in sight

I can see the end in sight for the book I'm writing on spec. What will happen (mostly), how and why. Here's the end of one chapter of The Girl in the Mini Cooper: ===== The thing is, I think I might want Kayla to be dead. Because what’s the alternative? That someone took her. Either that Cody guy or someone else, someone worse. Someone took her and has her and can do whatever they want to her. I used to like movies with plots like that. Maybe not like them, but I watched the DVDs with my mom when she brought them home. After she got off work she would go over to the video store next to the Thriftway. Slasher movies. Hidden underground torture chambers. Handcuffs and gags and chains. Blood spattering on the walls, sometimes in slo-mo. The creative use of a nail gun or a rusty saw or a shiny scalpel. But when it’s not a movie? When it’s not fake? When you can’t push the power button and watch the light on the TV turn into a little white dot in the middle of the screen and then disappear? When it’s really Kayla’s pale skin, Kayla’s blood? Then maybe it would be better if she were dead and in the river.

One twin claimed her blood, the other her bladder

I’m fascinated by the idea of chimeras, which happens when twins become one person in utero very early on in the pregnancy. According to Wikipedia, “For example, the chimera may have a liver composed of cells with one set of chromosomes and have a kidney composed of cells with a second set of chromosomes. This has occurred in humans, and at one time was thought to be extremely rare, though more recent evidence suggests that it is not as rare as previously believed. Most will go through life without realizing they are chimeras. The difference in phenotypes may be subtle (e.g., having a hitchhiker's thumb and a straight thumb, eyes of slightly different colors, differential hair growth on opposite sides of the body, etc) or completely undetectable .” Go here and start about 4.5 minutes in to hear about a woman who discovered she was a chimera when she was told DNA tests showed she was not related to her sons.