Extending Life

 Michael - Alternate Thursdays

Extending human life has always been a thorny issue. I’m not talking about exercise and healthy eating habits, but some form of medication. What could that be and, more important, what would be the consequences? Most of the novels and movies that have used this as a premise have focused on a way-out discovery – perhaps in the Amazon, on an isolated island, or somewhere in the Kalahari Desert – where, to this day, a variety of rare and undocumented species exist.

The discovery provides the backstory of the novel, but it’s usually the social, financial, and political implications that provide the substance. In his book, The Trouble with Lichen, John Wyndham explores the discovery of a lichen-like substance, discovered by accident, that causes aging to slow. That's where the story starts. The implications create the backbone of the book. A beautician uses it to do what all beauticians claim to do – to keep your young looks. The fact that her treatments actually work don’t make people happy, certainly not the ones who don’t have it. Some of the ones who do receive it somehow feel hoodwinked. That seems strange, but it’s totally believable. Read the book if you want to know why.

In Dying to Live, we postulated a plant in the Kalahari, known only to the Bushmen, that offered remarkable healing properties and extended life. A Bushman is discovered dead near the Central Kalahari Game Reserve in Africa. Although the man looks old enough to have died of natural causes, the police suspect foul play, and the body is sent to Gaborone for an autopsy. The pathologist is greatly puzzled. Although the man is obviously very old, his internal organs look remarkably young.

That’s the premise, but our story is about the stampede to find and obtain the plant by people for their own ends. The book is actually about greed, not longevity.

When the book came out we often asked people at launch events whether they would be keen to live very much longer that the usual life span. Many didn’t. Maybe there’s a built-in lifespan in our psyches as well as in our bodies. On the other hand, some very rich people have their bodies frozen until the day they can be resuscitated and whatever ails them (even if it’s just old age) can be cured.

In another story, a team of scientists go to study the people and environment of Easter Island (Rapa Nui). They discover a lot of interesting things, but the microbiologist in the group becomes fixated on soil samples that have a surprising lack of fungal life. He observes that the material kills yeast in a petri dish.

Yes, that Easter Island

As the story goes on, the material reaches a laboratory where a team led by a scientist named Sehgal discovers that the active ingredient, which they believe might be a new antibiotic, is actually a byproduct of a bacterium that doesn’t want competition from fungi for the nutrients in the soil. They isolate the material and name it Rapamycin in honor of its original home on Easter Island. While investigating its properties, they discover it produces strong anti-immune reactions. That dangerous side effect spoils its antibiotic properties, the research goes nowhere, and the drug company closes it down.

The twist is that Sehgal then smuggles a sample of the drug from the laboratory to his new home in the US and continues to push the drugs properties. Eventually, the research is restarted, and Rapamycin is approved by the FDA for use in suppressing immune reactions for transplants. But there’s another twist.

In the experiments and trials to obtain that approval, scientists notice that mice being used as test subjects live longer than those in the control group. Subsequent trials indicate that mice may live up to 20% longer when regularly treated with Rapamycin compared to the control group.

So far there isn’t that much interest in the story. The only twist worth a book would be Sehgal smuggling the drug home and carrying on the experimentation. The actual twist (as you’ve probably guessed or already know) is that this isn’t a novel. Not even a novel based on fact, but actual fact. There’s even real science that may explain how the drug works, and that may be the most interesting part. But where is all the greed, the social upheaval, the mad rush of legislation, the crowds mobbing the drug stores? It isn’t there. Is the drug too dangerous to take regularly? It doesn’t seem so, (but it’s early days yet and it can produce significant side effects).

Maybe we already have the Bushman’s longevity drug available for some $100 per month, but no one is really excited? Well not quite. Online “clinics” offer antiaging regimes including use of the drug “off label” i.e. not for its recommended and approved uses. The costs are much higher than the prescription rates. Some subscribers do suffer undesirable side effects under the very lax medical regime of the “clinics”. Do the participants live longer? How do we know? Is this just another Invermectin - a miracle drug against parasites, but with no scientifically established properties against Covid? Or do we really have the prototype of a drug that can extend life?

Would you want to live an extra twenty years?

When Pots--and Plots--get Root-Bound

Ovidia--every other Tuesday

One of my bamboo plants was starting to look unwell. A few leaves here and there turning yellow and dropping--nothing dramatic, but enough to signal that something wasn’t right, because my bamboo have always been among the healthiest of my plants!

And what was really odd was that this bamboo was in front of a big window with two other pot plants—another bamboo and a bonsai fig tree—and they all get the same amount of sunlight and water and the other two seem fine. So what was wrong with this poor bamboo?

So--after a very full week (including some Aunty Lee excitement now that the series is now out there) I finally took my poor bamboo plant out onto the patio for some investigative procedures...

My poor bamboo was completely root-bound!

When I finally managed to loosen the sides enough to get it out of its pot I saw its roots had taken over completely. They were a dense, tightly packed mass in the exact shape of the pot!

And there was almost no soil left. Water must have been running straight down the sides and out again without ever reaching the poor roots at the centre.

In fact, though I'd not realised it, my poor plant was dying of thirst and malnutrition, not to mention stress from overcrowding.

All from being severely root-bound.

And I realised that was pretty much the state my manuscript has been getting into recently. Everything inside it came about naturally and kind of works, but there's just too much stuff and it's all packed too tightly.

It's easier to tackle a poor root-bound plant. Or rather, there's a simple and slightly brutal method that usually works: loosen the roots as much as possible, remove compacted soil and dead roots and trim some of the roots before repotting them in fresh mix.

But that's where the difficult part comes in--I wasn't just trimming dead roots but some of the living, healthy ones too. Because there just isn't enough room for everything.

In my WIP the scenes I’m looking at are good scenes, funny exchanges and observations that I love. And all these fine roots/ threads/ themes have potential to grow into exciting developments.

The problem is, they all have HUGE potential, and given unlimited space, time and energy, I would keep and grow them all!

But I don’t have unlimited space, whether on my bathroom window ledge or on my calendar.

My bamboo might be happier flourishing in the wild with pandas, but in this dimension it's part of the green modesty screen in my bathroom that I enjoy tending to and that makes me happy every time I look at it.

Like for my WIP, my material is crying out for epic space but I'm working to fit it into a book somewhere between 75,000 and 80,000 words.

Even this post has to fit the space it’s given--so something has to give.

I trimmed my bamboo plant--stalks and roots both. I tried to be selective, but still—every cut hurt.

And when I've finished this, I'll head back to do the same with my manuscript.

I'm finally beginning to see that culling, cutting and editing isn’t about removing what’s bad or that doesn't work. It's just acknowledging that there isn't enough space for everything.

Too many roots, too many ideas...

It's not a bad thing. It's a wonderful problem because it means my bamboo was/ is healthy enough to expand to its limits.

My bamboo is recovering.

It's already looking much better!

Now I'll go trim and repot my WIP and hope it survives and recovers too and that both book and bamboo go on to flourish!

Happy Birthday, Karen Blixen

  Annamaria in Three Days Late

I apologize for going AWOL for a couple of weeks.  To be honest, I found myself with little time for writing anything at all, and I chose to devote what I had to finishing my work in progress, which was pouring into my head.  I am past 61K words now, and I see the ending coming, so though real life remains quite busy, I am happy to say that I am here with this tribute to Karen Blixe aka Isak Dinese. I first fell for her as a Lit major when I was assigned to read her short stories in Seven Gotic Tales published under her pen name.

Her name came up because I have an ancient copy of this handy way to keep track of friend and family birthdays.  I've had it since 1984, hence the clearly visible Scotch tape holding it together.

The entry at the top clued me in that it was time that I give Karen some attention.

Most American's know her as the person played by Meryl Street in the movie Out of Africa.  When her memoire of the same name first launched, it carried her pen name, already well known at the time. (Karen took the pen name, as many women did in the those days because books written by women were not considered important and mostly could't get published.)

Nowadays, if you search Seven Gothic Tales the answer you get may very well say "A book by Karen Blixen."  Only if the answer shows the book will it show the author as Isak Dinesen.  Either way, it is a masterpiece.

Eventually the area of Nairobi where she lived was named Karen in her honor.

Here below are some souvenir shots from my first time visit to Karen Blixen's house

"...at the foot of the gong hills."

Lucy, my guide, and a portrait of Karen

Karen's house, now a museum.

The Karen museum is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Kenya.  I'm not sure if it sells books, but I am certain that if you want fame, it helps if Meryl Streep pays you in a movie, especially of Robert Redford plays the love interest, and if the film is also a masterpiece.

My Granddaughter Rachel's Big Day

Jeff–Saturday

 

Today is the Bat Mitzvah of my youngest granddaughter, Rachel Ida McLaughlin, and I couldn’t be prouder of her!  She’s an accomplished actress, musician, vocalist, martial artist, and scholar. And this weekend her family and friends join in celebrating this hard-earned, well-deserved milestone event in her life!

For those of you who many wonder what is a Bat Mitzvah (pronounced Baht Mitts-vah), the simplest explanation is that it’s the coming of age religious ritual for a Jewish girl, as the Bar Mitzvah ritual is for a Jewish boy.  For a girl the age is generally above twelve, and for a boy it’s thirteen.

 

The history of the Bar Mitzvah actually dates back to a fifth century reference in a religious text to a blessing recited by a father thanking God for freeing him from responsibility for the deeds of his son, based upon his son attaining an age that made him accountable for his own actions.  

 

How many fathers of all faiths still pray for similar debt relief. :)

 

The Bat Mitzvah celebration has its roots in 19^th century European tradition but did not make its way to the United States until 1922. It now flourishes in many communities as a revered family occasion of great joy.

 

And that’s precisely what Rachel brings to all blessed to know her…great joy.

 

As her Zayde (grandfather), this day brings the promise of special joy to me, for perhaps now her parents will think of her as old enough to read her Zayde’s books!

 

Yiayia and I love you Rachel. We all do. Mazel Tov.

 

The entire crew of grandkids--12 years ago

–Zayde

Signing My Life Away

Sujata Massey 

Stacks of books, sharpie pens, a microphone. A sea of empty folding chairs—and a slight rush of nervous energy.

This scene is a cliché for any author who’s been fortunate enough to have a bookseller invite you sign books.

I count myself very lucky to see whatever number of seats the bookseller has set out filled with people. But a bookseller friend said to me that publicists for mega-selling authors sometimes require a bookseller to be able to offer seating for 200 or more. Hence, the Instagram reel of the 1500--person audience in Brooklyn Center, MN for Abby Jimenez, a popular romance author with a new book, The Night We Met. What I could see of the event was more akin to what I hear about Taylor Swift concerts, and I am going to bet the fans received books that had been signed in advance. How else could it be done? Three cheers for any author who can get that many people to assemble for a book launch! 

The first book signing I remember attending was back in elementary school—probably fifth or sixth grade. Susan Cooper, the seminal British author who wrote fantasy novels for children from the 1960s onward, was speaking at the College of St. Catherine in St. Paul during her national tour for one of her books—my likeliest guess is it was The Dark is Rising, her most famous book in the series that is still captivating readers today. During my childhood, Susan Cooper was my dream author, a woman from my birthplace of Great Britain who used legends and lore from Wales and King Arthur to develop her haunting series. We were reading this Newberry Award winning novel while under the age of 12, although I notice that her books are now classified as 'young adult.' In the crowd at the college, I recall only adults being there. I felt wise beyond my years and still am grateful to my elementary school librarian who thought I might like to go and asked the parents of me, and a few other friends, 

In the twenty-first century, faculty members are no longer allowed to take students in their own vehicle to off-campus events. But in the 1970s, people ha more freedom. And while I regret that the kind librarian's name is forgotten, I still remember her and am grateful for this early experience meeting a literary superstar. Susan Cooper, who was around forty at the time, spoke quite warmly to us. I don’t remember if we bought any books—probably not, because my paperback copy of the book (which I’ve carried to my adult home, after all these years!) is dog-eared and unsigned. We children didn’t know what a special opportunity this was—to have a signed book by a writer we loved, and who at the age of 90, is still a perennial in bookstores. 

My next experience with a fiction author came about ten years later. I studied as an undergraduate in the Johns Hopkins University writing seminars, a department different from English in that we Writing Sems majors did read novels, but we were also expected to learn from working authors of all sorts—poets, science writers, journalists, and yes, novelists. Martha Grimes, the celebrated American author based in Washington DC, came to the campus for as a visiting professor for the spring semesters of both my junior and senior year. 

Martha Grimes looked like this during my college years

Every Thursday afternoon, nine other students and I sat around a long table, not quite realizing she was on the New York Times bestseller list, right at that moment, and probably had a lot of choices of what to do with her time. learning from one of the masters. And at the end of the semester, she presented each of us with her latest book, signing it herself with a personal message. “I hope you get across the effing lake” she wrote to me, a reference to the implausible-sounding plot point in my mystery story submission that she critiqued for the class. Now I think how generous she was to sign and gift her reader copies with us. I treasure this signed book almost as much as what she taught me about the feasibility of crime fiction as a bona fide career. 

When I began struggling with the craft of my own mystery writing a decade later, one of the first signings that I recall was that of the late M.C. Beaton, when she visited Mystery Loves Company Books in Baltimore in the 1990s. Beaton is another British writer well known for her humorous Agatha Raisin and Hamish Macbeth series, as well as more than 100 romance novels, most of them under her real name, Marion Chesney. I attended with my friend and mystery maven (heck! she designed this website!) Susanne Trowbridge, who was close fwith the store owners, Paige Rose and Kathy Harig, who sadly are both deceased. I remember feeling shy at the event, but knowing that because I was an adult, I must say something to this author who had amazed me with her deft, humorous hand. It was a small but enthusiastic turnout, typical for the tiny store, one of those places where books are piled up everywhere and cats wind their way through your legs. Ms. Beaton was quite agreeable, and I remember thinking, I can’t fathom ever finishing my own manuscript-in-progress, selling it, and having people hear enough about it that they'd take the time to meet me. 

“You’ll have your first signing here,” both Kathy and Paige promised me, separately, so I knew it would be true--if Ionly I could finish and sell my book.  I kept going to book signings, I joined Sisters in Crime, and I kept writing. In 1996, I signed a contract for my first mystery, The Salaryman’s Wife. Kathy Harig read the galley that HarperCollins sent the store and told me it was good. What a relief it was—and from that point on, I was in the book signing world, receiving invites from stores I'd never heard of, and badgering the publicists to ask after ones in big cities, like New York and San Francisco, that I dreamed about. Fortunately, the 1990s was a time when female-centric mystery was booming, the economy was good, and tours were a possibility for writers once their books were coming out in hardcover editions.  Yet for many years I would go on tour, sitting in my economy seat on the plane with my throat closed, thinking the whole journey was unknown and could very well be disappointing. Who was I to have a signing when there were Martha Grimes and Susan Coopers in the world? These fears have subsided as I've built two series, and audiences also show up because booksellers themselves are increasingly sending email newsletters to their readers about upcoming events. 

Not all signings take place at independent bookstores. Sometimes events are scheduled in place where there’s a large captive audience. This includes mystery fiction conventions and conferences like the Association of Writers and Writing Programs, a giant writing extraganza where I was featured with my longtime mystery writer friend Laura Lippman, with our interview conducted by our new friend, the suspense novelist Angie Kim. 

During this last tour, I’ve spoken at stores with crowds as small as four and large as sixty-plus. I know that the store that might not get a lot of audience for me one night might simply choose to ask you to sign as many books as if there had been dozens--thus ensuring the books stay at the store, until they are sold, something quite generous to do in a business where profit margins are very tight. There are also a few stores that have voracious readers out of state who want signed books mailed to them. As I see it, each store visit is an incredible opportunity for a writer to connect with a reader—and if readers don’t show, you can demonstrate to the bookstore that you're a well-tempered and kind individual who appreciates their efforts. 

I’ve grown to feel I’m holding a serious responsibility at a signing. I’m not there to be promotional, despite a tour being a form of book promotion. Being a wee bit nervous can be helpful: it pushes me to remain sharper and more aware of what I hope to communicate. But truly--there's no need for a witty or profound speech. If I read a bit of the ew book, it allows people to know if they might want to read it. The coup de grace  is to allot plenty of time to receive questions. The most typical questions I hear are: why did you make your protagonist a Parsi, what’s your writing process, how do you do your research, and will any of your books ever be made into a movie? I hope is to satisfy the queries candidly without revealing spoilers. I also aim to share my particular experience of becoming (and staying) a writer, because I know that amongst the folding chairs, there always sits an individual who is quietly working away at their own manuscript. 

And isn't it wonderful they--the readers, writers, and the curious--have a place to come? The act of bookstores opening themselves to hosting events is akin to creating a literary picnic gathering in a town green. Whether or not an attendee buys a book, they're taking part in an impromptu community meeting that is about . . . imagination.A writer's, and their own. 

I came to Laurie R King's book signing in California

When I moved to Minneapolis in 2005, I was lonely the first few years. I really missed my friends from Maryland, DC, Virginia and Pennsylvania. I had felt so connected--and now I was living in a city that was so different from my childhood experience. The only solution to my social boredom that I came up with was visiting the city’s famed mystery bookstore, Once Upon a Crime and introduced myself to its owners at the time, Pat Frovarp and Gary Shulze. They already had my books on the shelf and became fast friends. I kept shopping at the store and attending events they hosted like the monthly Twin Cities chapter of Sisters in Crime meetings. My circle slowly widened, and I became part of a writing group (hello, Stan Trollip, one of the members!) 

I also attended signings for out-of-state authors coming to sign their latest books. Cara Black and Libby Hellman are both mystery authors who I didn’t know very well during my early Baltimore years--but I went to their signing to hear them talk about their work, and to buy their books to ensure Pat and Gary made some money that night. The bookstore seats were completely filled, making the authors happy. Cara and Libby then invited me to join them for dinner at a nearby pub, and the three of us formed an ongoing creative and supportive relationship that endures. After I moved away from Minnesota and transformed back into a Maryland author, Minnesota became a very important book tour stop. So in 2019, when I toured to St. Paul, the great mystery novelist William Kent Krueger showed up to 'welcome me back to St. Paul.' Things had come full circle.

William Kent Krueger's St. Paul welcome

Speaking of writer friends, it's now becoming a bookstore strategy. Many booksellers like to promote signings in which one writer (a local fixture who's not on tour) interviews an author who is on tour. This tandem work takes away the pressure of a tired writer repeating a stump speech, but rather answering surprising questions and going on spontaneous tangents with their interviewer. Readers are thrilled by natural conversations featuring real, unscripted moments between people. When I'm in this role, I read the book ahead of time, prep questions, and ask the writer if there’s anything in particular they love to talk about. During The Star From Calcutta book tour, I was quite grateful for the interlocution assistance from writers Vera Kurian in Washington, DC, Dan Fesperman in Baltimore and Ritu Mukherjee in San Francisco. Doing it all by myself, every night, when my day typically started with an early morning flight can be wearying. The antidote is  knowing one's night has been organized by the interviewer, and all I have to do is answer questions. 

Readers at the Raven Book Store in Kansas

Barbara Peters, owner of Poisoned Pen, and Naomi Hirahara

It seems a shame, but inevitable, that most publishers are curtailing authors book tours. I understand that sending authors to places that involve plane travel, road transportation and hotels is quite expensive, and the return on that investment is uncertain. I am so grateful that my publisher, Soho Press, listened to me when I spoke about the importance of Minnesota and Wisconsin, and the West Coast, as well as all the spots I can easily drive to in my area. And during this last tour—as I grasped the hands of customers who had demonstrated a real sense of caring about the characters in my books-I also felt their care for me as a person. 

Although we'd never met before, they knew me. 

And that is quite a gift for someone whose best friends in childhood were her books. 

Sujata has a few U.S. signings left for The Star From Calcutta. She'll share the stage with author Amin Ahmad on Saturday, May 9 at 11 a.m. at McIntyre's Books in Fearrington Village, NC. After that, she'll appear alongside author Kate Hilton in a discussion at the Gaithersburg Book Festival in Maryland at 1:15 p.m. on May 16.

 

Are you Scripturient?

Karen Odden – every other Thursday 

Like everyone, I get all kinds of random fun-fact stuff in my in box every day. Today in History. Mastering French Phrases. O&H Kringle of the Day. (Almond will always be my favorite. Raspberry a close second.) Some of this email traffic I glance over, and if I’m busy, I don’t always look at it. 

But if I have a moment, I do like to look at the Word of the Day. This word caught me. I know I’m a bibliophile; but recently, I discovered I’m scripturient. Who knew? 

Then again, maybe we all are scripturient. We write constantly – especially if we consider typing on our keyboards writing. Think about your day. Which of these have you written recently? Emails, blogposts, to-do lists, social media posts, entries on a paper calendar (yes, I still keep one, in addition to the one on my phone), scribbles in notebooks, marginal notes in the books you’re reading, novels, short stories, poetry, a recipe for a friend, a birthday card, lists of things to pack for a weekend trip, itinerary for a conference, a signature on the credit card pad at the store, a quick text, a Post-it reminder note, a shopping list. 

It’s interesting to take a moment to consider how deeply embedded writing is in our lives, and how many kinds there are. How it’s part of our day, instinctive, almost unconscious, in a way that blinking or breathing is, and also how many different ways there are, physically, to produce written texts, from Egyptian hieroglyphics to Braille to feather quill pens to Bics to keyboards. Think how quickly our fingers move on our phones when we're texting. Perhaps there, especially, our rates of speaking and writing approach each other.

"Creative writing" is, to my mind, somewhat of an artificial category. Perhaps a shopping list isn't creative writing ... but a birthday card? I'd say it is. I mean, I choose my words for the extra words I add to the message inside -- because each person is different, and I have different kinds of relationships with different people. I'll make a joke to one person that I might not make with another; I know my audience, and I write to them, with awareness of my voice and what message it's carrying. Is that so very different from choosing my words for starting a chapter? 

I think we all do more creative writing than we realize. Just something to consider. 

I’m going to leave you with a few famous quotes on writing because I like these quotes better than anything else I could say on the topic. These mostly apply to creative writing ... but also to writing generally, in some cases. Sometimes it's fun to read what brilliant, famous people have to say about writing.

“Write what disturbs you, what you fear, what you have not been willing to speak about. Be willing to be split open.”  — Natalie Goldberg 

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.” – Anais Nin

“You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.” — Madeleine L'Engle 

“The best way to become acquainted with a subject is to write about it.” – Benjamin Disraeli

“There is no greater power on this earth than story.” – Libba Bray

“As for ‘Write what you know,’ I was regularly told this as a beginner. I think it’s a very good rule and have always obeyed it. I write about imaginary countries, alien societies on other planets, dragons, wizards, the Napa Valley in 22002. I know these things. I know them better than anybody else possibly could, so it’s my duty to testify about them.” — Ursula K. Le Guin  [photo]

“If I waited for perfection, I would never write a word.” — Margaret Atwood 

“I am not at all in a humor for writing; I must write on until I am.” — Jane Austen 

“I just give myself permission to suck. I delete about 90 percent of my first drafts, so it doesn’t really matter much if on a particular day I write beautiful and brilliant prose that will stick in the minds of my readers forever, because there’s a 90 percent chance I’m just going to delete whatever I write anyway. I find this hugely liberating.” — John Green 

“On first drafts: It is completely raw, the sort of thing I feel free to do with the door shut — it’s the story undressed, standing up in nothing but its socks and undershorts.” — Stephen King

Between Hills and Pilgrims: Oviedo's quiet geography

 

Kwei - Alternate Wednesdays

Oviedo doesn’t announce its geography. You notice it gradually—on foot, looking up. The city feels contained, but not confined.

 

Routes around Monte Naranco—
where local trails intersect with the Camino Primitivo

To the north rises Monte Naranco, less a mountain than a long, steady ridge. It frames the city without enclosing it, shaping both skyline and movement.

 

Spring fields below Monte Naranco—
green, open, and deceptively gentle

Oviedo sits in a shallow basin rather than a true valley. The land rolls instead of dropping away. There are no steep walls—just continuous green slopes that soften distance and scale.

 

Cristo del Naranco watches over the ridge
—visible from almost anywhere below

These paths are not just local trails. They form part of the Camino Primitivo, one of the oldest routes to Santiago. For centuries, pilgrims have crossed this same terrain—walking the same gradients, reading the same skyline.

Layered greens—
Oviedo’s terrain never quite settles into flat.

Walking here means constant adjustment—small ascents, gradual descents. The terrain never disappears; it stays in the body.

The result is subtle but distinct. Oviedo feels held by its landscape, not trapped by it.

Technically a pilgrim—just the short-form version

One feels friendly, open skies.