I’ve been pretty busy lately. On the final day of April I went to Acton, Maine for a session with Kate Nolan-Denham, a professional photographer. I’ll show you a sample of her work next month. This was at the request of a publicist I’ve signed up with, Lamourie Media, who would like something better than the fistful of snaps I have on file. Gotta have headshots.
I’ve also been conducting a number of interviews, which is pretty exciting. Here are the links to a couple that have already come out:
— Book Reader Magazine interview:
https://bookreadermagazine.com/?s=Rick+Clogston
— Book Goodies interview:
https://bookgoodies.com/interview-with-author-rick-clogston/
Rick’s Recs:
My recommendations this month are for kid’s books. Doing interviews forces me to dig deep into my memory of what first inspired me to write, and to read. Being of, ahem, a certain age, I’ve got a little more history to shovel through than some. This has got me remembering how much I enjoyed the books I read back in elementary school. I still enjoy a good Young Adult novel, or even younger.
My first recommendation is brand-spanking new, just out last month. It’s called Redstone Missile Creature by Dr. Maria Sanders. It takes place practically in my front yard at the local grade school and town common I can see from my living room window. Reading this takes me back to the days when I would scour the Canaan Elementary School library, hoping there’d be a new Encyclopedia Brown to check out. I also made use of the Scholastic Book Club flyer that came out on a regular basis. Here’s a link that will get you connected with the Redstone Mystery Club:
The other book I’m recommending is much, much older. Several of the restaurants my family went to back in the day had bookshelves, often crowded with very old books. To my ten-year-old eyes, they looked ancient. Often, while we were waiting for our orders, I would look through the shelves and sometimes even pluck one out and start reading. This particular one was so good I almost forgot to eat my dinner. When the waitress came with our check, I asked if there was any way I could borrow the book so I could finish it. She checked with the owner, and he gave it to me. I still have it somewhere.
It’s called The Automobile Girls at Newport, copyright 1910 by Laura Dent Crane. One of a rather extensive series of Automobile Girls novels centering around a group of young ladies, one of whom had access to a new-fangled device called an automobile. Very exciting, and not an easy device to manage in those days, as you can well imagine. I’ve downloaded the Kindle edition—yes, it’s still available!—and plan to read it again. Here’s the link:
When’s the last time you opened a book you read back in grade school? If it’s been a while, well, there’s no time like the present.
Fiddly Bit:
Since I’m going on about kids books, and how much I still enjoy them, this month’s Fiddly Bit (who the heck came up with that anyway?) features the younger of The Princess Key’s heroines, Lisa Allen.
The Sound of Music
Lisa, age 10 – three years before The Princess Key – Rynaxx
Nervous didn’t begin to describe Lisa Allen’s state of mind. As much as she loved studying piano under Mother’s tutelage, she hated performing in public. Still, if Daddy were summoned to appear before the regent of Rynaxx, she and Mother were both expected to play. Even when Lisa was three or four and could barely manage “Chopsticks,” it was a requirement. The regent was Daddy’s patron, and that was that.
Lisa couldn’t help but feel intimidated in a room full of Rynaxxians, no matter how many times she’d been here. Adults of the species were always bigger than Humans, and the thick, black exoskeletons made them look like a cross between knights in armor and giant bugs. The regent stood a head taller than Daddy, who was six-foot-two. She always had the thought that Daddy should be careful not to put out an eye on the regent’s pointy chin.
In the background some of the kids were running around, playing with each other and some of the Rynaxxian children. Lisa and her mother, on the other hand, stood sedately in the center of the scrum, wearing matching lavender evening gowns. The regent clapped his hands and everyone, including the children, made their way to their seats.
There were exactly two Steinway pianos in the whole Rynaxx system, both identical nine-foot ebony grands, purchased by Regent Phri-tar the Fourth and shipped here from Earth. One was at Daddy’s compound under the vast reinforced dome on a moon of Rynaxx IV. The other one Lisa was now sitting in front of. Mother occupied the other half of the bench. They were about to begin the middle Andante section of Mozart’s “Piano Sonata in C major for Four Hands.”
Whenever the regent called, they were expected to drop everything and respond immediately. Daddy, his family, and most of his staff and their families would climb aboard whatever spaceship the monarch had sent. Usually, it had something to do with politics: a problem that needed a skilled negotiator, a trade agreement or some upheaval that needed managing. Or the economy. Daddy said that word a lot.
That’s what Daddy did for a living. He was an arbitrator, and one of the regent’s key advisors. A trained expert in interplanetary law and a seasoned negotiator. He actually worked as a freelance consultant, mostly, all over the unaffiliated territories. Still, the regent had offered him patronage and a lavish home in exchange for access to his services. Unless Daddy was away with other commitments, David, Lucille, and Lisa Allen were to make themselves available to the regent at his whim.
Usually, after Daddy and the regent had finished their business—conducted to the regent’s satisfaction—Daddy and his family and entourage would be expected to stay for some social time. This absolutely had to include a performance by the respected Human pianist, Lucille Allen. On this occasion, though, the only business was Lisa’s tenth birthday.
For some reason beyond her comprehension, the ruler of this entire star system loved making a fuss over this little Human girl. Lisa assumed it was because of her rarity. The only Humans in the Rynaxx system worked for Daddy; although this level of attention wasn’t lavished on any of the other half-dozen-or-so Human children.
There were about seventy-five people in attendance: all Rynaxxians like the regent except for Daddy’s staff and their families. Daddy’s mostly Human entourage were all elegantly dressed, cleaned, and coiffed, every nail trimmed, every hair in place. The regent and his guests also were well-dressed in their own version of evening wear: their jet-black exoskeletons buffed to a high gloss. Zho-Tar, the regent’s teenage heir, sat on a plush couch next to his father’s throne with two of his concubines. He wore a bracelet signifying his elevated status. That and his elegant robes were only outshone by his father’s.
Dinner had been delicious, a multi-course culinary extravaganza featuring several dishes that Lisa didn’t recognize but enjoyed just the same. The birthday cake had been, erm, interesting. It tasted to her like broccoli. For reasons unknown, it bore eighty-two candles. She counted. It took her only three tries to blow them all out, earning her a round of applause.
Afterward, everyone adjourned to the entertainment chamber—a semi-circular amphitheater lined with plush seats. Mother played her pieces first, then Lisa played the “Piano Sonata in B-flat Major” by Carl Phillip Emanuel Bach. She and Mother adjusted their gowns. Lisa brushed loose strands of her long blonde hair out of her face and took a deep breath. They rested their fingers on the keys and shared a smile.
“There’s nobody else here,” Mother whispered, smiling gently.
Lisa’s smile broadened, and all her unease drifted away.
She and Mother had worked on this piece for months. Mother decided that her daughter was finally ready to perform it. They began, and the girl felt the music take her. The gentle, languid piece by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart flowed through her effortlessly, the endless practice paying inexpressible dividends. God, how she loved to play!
When they finished, the chamber erupted with applause. Lisa was so lost in the piece that it startled her and jolted her out of her musical trance. She glanced at Mother and blushed, smiling shyly.
The regent rose from his throne, still clacking his pincer-like hands together, and glided down the steps into the bowl. “Brilliant!” he gushed broadly. “Absolutely brilliant.” He took Lisa’s hands and kissed them. “Young lady, you are a genius.”
Lisa blushed again and almost laughed. Her mother was twice the pianist that she’d ever be. She glanced at her parents, who seemed to be enjoying Lisa’s accolades a lot more than she was.
“Thank you, Your Regency,” Lisa said softly and curtsied.
“No, thank you, my dear,” the regent said. “I will confess, at first I found your Earth music … a little challenging. And yet, as the years progress, I have grown to appreciate it.” He bowed from the waist. “Your skill, your dedication, and the sophistication of your expression humbles us. We are honored to be your hosts.”
This got another round of clacking applause from the Rynaxxians. Lisa was stunned. What the heck, she thought. It’s just music.
The regent turned to the commander of his personal guard. “Captain Kelph, please bring in Miss Allen’s birthday gift!”
Lisa forced a smile. Oh, no. She’d forgotten about this part. What crazy piece of insane weirdness am I getting this year?
The most memorable gift was The Staircase. When it was delivered to Daddy’s compound, they discovered that it wouldn’t fit in the house, no matter what they did. Much to her parent’s relief, as it turned out. It was left outside, away from the house, on the artificial lawn. And there it stood, under the dome, bathed in starlight. A wrought-iron 42-foot-tall spiral staircase rising majestically … to nowhere. Was that my 5th or 6th birthday? Lisa occasionally climbed it just to look at, and feel closer to, the stars.
Then there was last year’s present: The Candle. A nine-foot-high wax statue of a Terran squirrel with a wick emerging from the top of its head. It was portrayed eating an acorn, gripped firmly in its paws. That didn’t fit in the house either, so it was parked next to the wrought-iron staircase. Lisa couldn’t image what inspired it, nor did she have the courage to ask. In the back of her mind she harbored a desire to one day climb the staircase and light the wick.
Kelph left and moments later returned with a broad smile and something bluish/brownish on a leash that resembled … a deer? It only came up to Lisa’s waist; no bigger than a medium-sized dog. A baby deer? I forget what those are called. Do I eat it? Ride it … play with it … or …? A deer the size of a dog. She’d never actually seen a dog, but she’d read about them.
“An adult Rynaxxian elk!” the regent announced. “I thought ahead and got you a female. The males have these …” He put his hands on either side of his glossy, domed head and waggled them. “… these …”
“Antlers, Your Majesty,” Kelph said.
Phri-tar thrust a finger at the captain. “Yes! Antlers!” He turned back to the Allens. “The males are hell on the furniture, I’m afraid. No bit of your upholstery would be safe. Hence, the female. Much more of an indoor pet.”
Lisa blinked rapidly, keeping her smile locked in place. No, there were no antlers, just long fangs and clawed feet. “I … don’t know what to say, Your Majesty. It’s, she’s …” She gulped. “Beautiful. Thank you, so much.” She reached out and petted its soft, blue-brown fur, then turned to her parents. Their smiles were almost grimaces. I hope it’s housebroken.
The regent clacked his hands together and rubbed them. “Tell me, my dear, what do you plan to call her?”
“Call her?” Lisa said, still blinking. She looked at the elk. “Uh … Hillary?”
Daddy laughed. “Hillary?”
Lisa shrugged. “I dunno, that just … popped into my head.”
“I think it’s a lovely name,” Mother said, nodding furtively. “For … an elk.”
“Hillary it is, then,” the monarch exulted. “I’ll have it engraved on her identity collar.”
Hillary’s response was to nuzzle Lisa’s hand, then curl up at her feet. She opened her mouth and a soft, melodious keening began to waft through the room. Hmm, not so bad after all, Lisa thought. Hillary, the singing elk.
With dinner, the performance, and the present out of the way, the party swerved into its final, more intimately social stage. The guests were mingling, enjoying beverages and hors d’œuvres.
Tiffany, the Human daughter of one of Daddy’s staffers, approached. She was thirteen, taller than Lisa, with long brown hair and green eyes.
“Hillary the elk?” she asked with a smirk.
Lisa’s eyes narrowed. “What would you call an elk?”
Tiff emitted a grating, too-loud laugh. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with one!”
Lisa smiled. “Good thing for you, then.” If Tiff hated the elk, Lisa now loved it, reaching down and petting it. Hillary nuzzled her hand again and sang up at them.
“I wonder if those claws will get caught on your Staircase?” the bigger girl asked, then brayed another laugh. “Or if she’ll bite your squirrel?”
Smile. “Careful, Tiff. Those fangs are venomous.”
Lisa had no idea if that were true, but the look on her tormentor’s face made it worthwhile. Tiffany’s mother strode up to the two girls. She took her daughter’s arm firmly.
“Come along, Tiffany,” she said. “You girls can play when we get home.” The woman flashed a guarded smile at Lisa. “Happy birthday, Lisa.”
“Thank you, Ms. Velasquez,” Lisa said. Her husband, Tiffany’s dad, worked as a translator for Daddy.
Daddy came up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “You should stop torturing Rafael’s daughter. I need him.”
Lisa scowled at the departing mother and daughter. “I’ll stop when she does.”
David Allen—or as he was called by the regent, Ambassador Allen—patted his daughter’s shoulder. “Now, now, that’s no way to be a peacemaker.”
Lisa looked up at her father. “Maybe I don’t want to be a peacemaker. Maybe I want to be as much of a bitch to them as they want to be to me.”
“The other kids behave that way because they’re at your mercy. It’s natural to resist and resent that.”
Lisa frowned. “Mom wasn’t much of a peacemaker with the cook yesterday.”
He sighed. “Your mother… has a very dynamic personality. Like a lot of people, she sometimes gets swept away by her emotions. She’s an artist, with an artist’s temperament. She apologized later.” He laughed.
“She knows the last thing she needs is for the cook to be mad at her. We’re a long way from the nearest four-star lasagna.”
They both laughed. Daddy patted her shoulder again and gave a little squeeze.
“Try to get along with Tiffany, all right? Be an ear. Don’t react or respond, just listen. In her own way, she’s telling you where her life hurts. Maybe you won’t be able to fix it, but you might be surprised how much she’ll appreciate just having somebody to share her burden with. It might make her more willing to share yours.
“You never know. Some day, you may be at somebody’s mercy.”
By the way, in case you’re interested, here’s the piece that Lisa and her mother played: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_w7NJt9bfDg