First Offenders

Who's Crying Now

I woke up this morning to learn that Journey has found a new lead singer. Now, this is in no way important to me, other than I like to know when old bands bring in new singers and attempt to recapture the glory they once knew. Of course, they seem to be the only ones who don't know that the glory days are long gone, but that's a whole different discussion.

So, anyway, Journey has found their new lead singer. And this dude will be the band'€™s third lead singer since Steve Perry decided to take his title of Ugliest Man In Rock History and walk away. And they found the new guy on YouTube. And damn if he isn'€™t pretty good.

Take a look for yourself.

Now, why I am wasting your time talking about Journey? Because they hold a special place in my heart for reasons that are juvenile and simple-minded. You see, a friend of mine and I once were at a point where we were both ready to break up with girls we were dating and instead of being, you know, mature about it, we made a bet to see which one of us could use more Journey song titles in our break up speeches. He won, the bastard. I believe the final score was 10-8. I know that I used "Separate Ways" "Anyway You Want It" and "Be Good To Yourself", but I can't recall the others. I may have had some alcohol in me at the time. But I do remember that I went first, which was a tactical error on my part because he knew the number he had to beat. We were tied at 8 (I was sitting there tallying it up on a paper plate - yes, we were handling the break ups by phone) and then he dropped "Stone in Love" to win and ended the call with "I'll Be Alright Without You" just to rub it in a little.

Ah, what a couple of jackasses good times.

Anyway, whenever I hear a Journey song or any mention of Journey, I am immediately reminded of how stupid I am this important moment in my life.

Today, people, we'€™re talking about break ups. Good ones, bad ones or other ones. Or ones that involved Journey.
Jeff

Kindle: Fad or fact?

Ever since the iPhone came out, I’ve wanted one. Not really for any specific purpose, but just because it’s just so damn cool. However, the Kindle from Amazon is quickly becoming a close second on the Christmas wish list.

I mean, think about it. Download (wireless!) books from Amazon into a handheld computer, which I’ve heard from a reliable source has a screen that’s actually readable. Instead of worrying about whether the book I’m currently reading will fit into my bus bag, I’d just have a bunch of books on this keen little device.

One of the biggest complaints about reading a book on a small computer screen is that we spend all our working day looking at a computer screen and why would we want to read a book that way? But as opposed to my desktop and much larger laptop, I really probably could sit on the couch with my cup of tea and read.

Okay, purists are saying: But what about the feel of the book? The feel of the page as you turn it? The joy of an impulse buy at the bookstore because a cover looks way cool and you just have to read that book?

I think there will always be a place for a physical book. We will all still roam the bookstores.  There will be books that we just must have on our own bookshelves.  But just as the argument about holding a newspaper in our hands was made a few years ago, I read most of my news online these days and I bet most of you do, too.  And I bet the next few generations will read even more online and will buy into the Kindle and the iPhone and the Next Big Technology Gadget a lot more quickly.

My books are available on Amazon as Kindle books, and it’s funny to see that my Amazon numbers for the Kindle books are pretty good. So someone’s downloading them. Maybe just one or two people, but that’s one or two people more than I’d have thought. When I received my royalty statement for my second book, I noticed that 16 were purchased as e-books. Go figure.

Okay, so no one likes change. But didn’t we all think that Pong was the greatest thing since sliced bread? We had no clue what that would lead to. Kindle is probably just the tip of the iceberg.

What do you think?

Karen

P.S. Make sure to check out FO on Friday. We've got a special guest blogger!

The most terrifying time of the year

By Alison

Fasten your seatbelts -- it's that time of year again. No, I'm not talking about the Holiday season. What I'm talking about is, the driving-home-from-work-late-at-night-and-taking-your-life-in-your-hands time of year. The time of year when you'd damn well better fasten your seatbelts because you never know when Mother Nature will decide to bitch-slap you for no apparent reason. I just drove home from work -- a two hour drive up the Palisades and then the 87. It started out fine -- perfectly clear, smooth sailing... Until sometime around the Slotsberg rest stop it became a smorgasbord of bad weather. It started with the gale-force wind, and then it just got worse. Sleet, freezing rain tunring to snow, black ice on the roads. You name it, I drove through it. Oh, and did I mention I don't have four-wheel drive?

Needless to say, for much of the ride, it was hard to breathe because my heart was lodged in the back of my throat. But now that I'm home, safe and sound and desperately in need of a drink, I've been thinking about how, in many ways, this really is the most wonderful time of the year. Why? Because there's nothing like not being at the bottom of a nine-car pile-up to make you take stock of the things you treasure most.

I treasure my wonderful family. I treasure my friends (including and especially Lori, Karen, Jeff and all the fantastic FOFOs) And I treasure the enormous and still-shocking privilege of being paid to write books, and having some people read them. I treasure dark chocolate and song lyrics that make me cry and  really good champagne and bagel and lox and Netflix and Harry Shearer's Le Show and the fact that, at least for now, my daughter and I love the same music. And a whole bunch of other things too. But that's enough of me for now.  Celebrate the Scary Driving Season with me and tell me the things you treasure most.

Third Child Syndrome

Lori here~

I had a booksigning on Friday night at Borders, which is my "home" store. We have a total of two new bookstores in Rapid City, and my next signing at the other one, Waldenbooks, is on December 15th.

I'll be honest; I usually sell a ton of books at these stores. The local support from Tammy, the bookstore manager, her store staff, and the readers is amazing. But Friday night was not my best signing. Which is ironic, because Shallow Grave is my best book in the Julie Collins series. I remember when I had my first solo signing there, I obsessed about what to wear (lucky skeleton earrings? Check) If I had enough purple pens. If I had enough bookmarks. If I should entice potential buyers over to my table with candy spilling out of my tabletop prop - a tattooed skull with open mouth. Results were I sold out of all 75 books that night in three hours. How did I recreate the magic?

I wasn't so frantic about this signing. Not cynical, mind you, I hope I never get to the ho-hum stage, because it is a thrill to know people are not only buying and reading these books, but collecting signed copies. In the car, on the way to the bookstore, running somewhat late for me, which means 20 minutes early, I realized I'd forgotten my WILLA Cather "winner" stickers for copies of Hallowed Ground. A cell phone call to our daughters and Mr. LGA set up a rendezvous point. I didn't check to see if I had pens. I sent Mr. LGA to Target to buy candy. It wasn't a disaster, because I was relaxed, and witty and charming to those brave souls who bucked the wind to attend, including an old boyfriend, which was way cool :) Afterward we went out for a drink with Tammy and her husband.

Then we realized we hadn't taken a single picture of me at the signing. No pictures seems to be a theme in our life of late. Does this third book suffer from third child syndrome?

Mr. LGA and I have three daughters. We have tons of pictures of Armstrong #1. We scrimped to purchase a video camera for Armstrong #2, so we captured those once-in-a-lifetime moments - you know, footage of child #2 licking the front steps after a rainstorm, riding her tricycle outside in her Little Mermaid underwear, while daughter #1 made off camera sarcastic commentary at age 3. Pics of first days of school. Pics of first violin recitals. Pics of Christmas. Birthdays. Saturdays at the lake. Pics of every damn thing you could imagine.

Then child #3 rolled around. Yes, we took pictures of her, but fewer pictures. Fewer pics of all three of them, actually. A fact which was driven home to us again this week when daughter #3 had a small vocal solo at her school holiday recital, and the rest of the parents around us whipped out cameras. All three of our daughters are longtime members of the Black Hills Suzuki School, and they played with the Black Hills Symphony this weekend. Not an Armstrong camera in sight. Heck our oldest daughter is freakin' concertmaster of the acclaimed Central High School Chamber Orchestra and we didn't get pics of her at the last concert. Nor did we snap shots of child #2 beating the crap out of opponents and winning five trophies at her last martial arts tournament.

Why?

At some point during this parenting experience, we realized we were living through those moments on film...and not in the actual moment.

Does that make us lazy? No. Forgetful? Sometimes.Tired of living as a slave to Kodak? Absolutely. Does it somehow make the memory less memorable if there isn't tangible proof you can file away in a photo album? Will it really matter if there isn't a pic of me smiling, pen in hand as I pretended to sign books?

Do you document every achievement, be it yours or a family member's?

PS--------Some folks commented they couldn't see the very cool video Jeff made, so here's the big news and official announcement:

"Former firearms industry professional Lori Armstrong's RITUAL SACRIFICES, the first in a new mystery series featuring an Army sniper who has returned home to run her family's South Dakota ranch, to Trish Lande Grader at Touchstone Fireside, in a good deal, in a two-book deal, by Scott Miller at Trident Media Group (NA)."