Heat Domes and Elmer Kelton

As I’ve said many times, the South in the summer is trying, to say the least. The summer has, so far, been soaked in sweat, humidity, and torrential rains. Very odd. I try to weed the garden, but it’s a losing battle. The weeds thrive in this weather, and they aren’t about to give up to the likes of little ole me.

The third mystery in our cozy series is giving us fits. For some reason, we just can’t seem to finish it. My normal modus operandi when this happens is to let the story sit and come back to it with fresh eyes. Isn’t working this time around, I’m afraid. And maybe that’s the clue - fear. Fear the book isn’t going to be good. Fear that the characters are getting lost in the complicated mystery. Fear, plain and simple. False Evidence Appearing Real - that’s all fear is. Gotta face it down. My co-author and I are entirely capable of doing it.

I’m reading a book that’s a compilation of short stories written by Elmer Kelton for various magazines, many in the 1950s. How I love Kelton’s books! The man could write! I met him once, and he was an unassuming, mild-mannered rancher with a nice smile. He lived what he wrote. I particularly enjoy reading the short romance stories he wrote. The man knew horses, cattle, and women, that’s for sure.

Now back to work on Mystery #3….