I did reread the previous scene I had written and added another one, and I’m going to continue writing as soon as I finish my “break,” but the big question is: why did I have to come here rather than stay and do the same thing at my parents’ house?

Well, for one thing, my parents don’t have wifi, free or otherwise. Yes, I can access the ‘net using my cell phone, but the reception in my parents’ area — or, at least, in their house — is inconsistent at best. It’s frustrating to have the connection drop while I’m in the middle of checking something, such as what the weather was like in late March and early April, 2004. (You’ll understand when you read the book. When I finish writing the book. When I find an agent. When I find a new publisher.)

Of course, I really don’t need an internet connection to do my writing. I save all my research in my “notes” file, including a chart of the weather from March 28-April 3, 2004. (The truth is, I forgot I had copied that chart, and looked it up again. For those of you who are sticklers for accuracy, the site http://www.wunderground.com/history/ is a great resource.) But if I’m not connected to the internet, what will I do when I need a break? If I leave the computer, I might not want to return to it again.

The other reason I’m sitting in a public venue instead of my parents’ den or kitchen table or wherever is the same reason I never write at home — I can’t. There are just too many distractions. At my parents’, I’ll be listening to (and commenting on) their conversations; the phone will ring; the TV will be on (and I’ll be listening to that, too, especially as they just got a dvr and my mother is becoming addicted to TMC and I’m already addicted to classic movies).

At home, even if no one else is there, the dirty clothes call out to me. Then I’m listening for the washing machine to stop. Then the dryer buzzes. And buzzes. And buzzes. Until I finally give in and fold the clean clothes. Then I notice the unread paper on the kitchen table and decide to take a “few minutes” to read it. An hour or so later, I finish the comics and hear the mail truck. I chat with the mail deliverer (his sister lives at the end of the cul-de-sac), sort through the mail, dump the solicitations and ads into the recycling, decide the bag is getting full and take it out to the recycling can. By now, the second load of laundry in the dryer is buzzing. And buzzing. And buzzing. For some reason, I decide the underwear absolutely must be folded immediately, and the underpants sorted by color. Those chores done (others beckon, but I ignore them), I sit back down at the dining room table in front of the laptop, glance out the window into the backyard, and notice my bird feeders are empty. And the bird baths need to be not just refilled but scrubbed to get rid of the squirrel poop. I’m wondering if I have time to go to one of the two wild bird supply stores in the area (each one seven miles away, in opposite directions) for more suet or mealworms or whatever, but my youngest is texting me that he’s on his way home from school. It’s not a problem as he often comes home to an empty house where he makes himself popcorn and eats it in the family room while watching DVDs until his father or I come home and yell at him for eating in the family room and not doing his homework before watching DVDs, at which point he announces he’s tired and goes to his room for a nap. But chances are there is some place he needs to be within a 1/2 hour of getting home, and I’ll have to drive him.

And that’s just on my day off and doesn’t include the days I’m at my day job.

So I find it easier to do my writing at Borders or B&N. For some reason, the B&N near us doesn’t have any outlets for recharging laptops, but Borders does. So I go to B&N until my battery drains, then drive the 3/4 of a mile to Borders for a change of scenery and a power outlet (if there’s an open table near the wall). But no matter where I go (Panera and Dunkin’ Donuts have free wifi, too), I find I can filter out and ignore the background noise in public places. No distractions unless I want them (such as a new issue of Torchwood magazine or one of the three birding magazines I read or of Mental Floss).

I just looked out the window and it’s pouring. Guess I’ll have to sit here a while longer. Maybe I’ll even get some more scenes written. Or I would if the power didn’t keep threatening to go off. Good thing my battery is full so I could pull the plug before the laptop fries.

By the way, the Barnes & Noble I’m currently at in Boynton Beach has more power outlets than I’ve ever seen. They also have a copy of Talk Dirty Yiddish on the shelf. I like it here.

For years, I said, “If only I had the time, I’d write a novel.” When I finally had the time, I was in my 50s and found myself unemployed and too experienced (and “old”) to find another position easily. I had the time. I wrote the novel.

CHANUKAH GUILT was published when I was 58. My protagonist, Rabbi Aviva Cohen, is described as a 50-something. In the second novel, UNLEAVENED DEAD (still being written), she is 55. I intend to have her age in each book.

Two points from the paragraph above:

1. Yes, she is an aging baby boomer, with all the regrets and longings of the 60s that many of us have. She also faces, either personally or through her cohorts, the problems of aging and health issues (for them as well as their parents), planning for retirement (who can afford it?), loneliness. I’m tired of reading books with young, fit, carefree protagonists. Books featuring “older” characters fill a definite niche for “older” readers.

2. Why the 2nd book is not finished: life interferes. I’m one of the growing number of “mature” adults with young kids. They still take a lot of my time. I also did finally find a job, and, even though it is part-time, it is emotionally draining (I’m a hospice chaplain) and I often find I am just not in the mood to write at the end of the day (or the beginning, when I’d rather get an extra hour or so of sleep). And whether I’m in the mood or not, there’s still a teenager at home who needs to be chauffeured around and nagged to do his homework and clean his room and stop playing video games.

On the positive side, I find that once I do begin to write, I can lose myself in Aviva’s world and block out everything else. On the negative, I find that once I get going the plot begins to deprive me of my sleep as I try to figure out how to write myself out of a corner.

Moral: If you want to write, do it. Age is irrelevant. (Now I just need to follow my own advice.)

And I had done several public readings of the same scene in Chanukah Guilt the one in which Aviva runs upstairs after her burglar alarm is triggered. The police call to see if everything’s okay and say, “Evesham Police.” Evesham is the name of the township where I live; Aviva lives in the fictional town of Walford. I’m not sure how many times I’d read the same line before realizing the error.

And while in the editing phase of Chanukah Guilt, the manuscript editor and the copy editor and I had gone through the manuscript several times, yet it was only on the final read-through that I realized Aviva was attending an interfaith Thanksgiving service at the Catholic Church on one page, at the Episcopalian Church on the next, and then was back at the Catholic Church. At least I caught that one before the book was published.

I also rewrote, on the final reading, an explanation that I realized made no sense to me, who had written it. Obviously, readers would be confused, too. (Although I guess the editors had gotten it.)

In my defense, I am a first time writer. But what about the established writers whose books are published by major mainstream publishers and appear in print with glaring errors? Are editors too inexperienced to catch the errors? Or are they too afraid to question or correct these best-selling writers?

Some examples:

* In one book, the author describes the character’s navel ring by using the same exact words (something like “her belly button winked”) several times. The first time was cute, the second an error, by the third and fourth annoying.

* A first person narrator approaches a victim who has been shot in the chest and is lying on his back. The narrator then describes what is on the back of the victim’s jacket.

* A woman is hit on the back of the head and falls backwards.

* A Jewish writer describes the holiday of Sukkot as falling a month after Pesach and lasting two days. (Sukkot is in the fall, after the High Holy Days, and lasts eight days; Shavuot is seven weeks after Pesach and lasts two days.)

These are just the ones I can recall right now. There are a lot of others (including some major typos – misspelling a major character’s name in the first line of a new chapter, for example). I’m sure you can come up with several others. Additions welcome below!

Similar to this website, it’s a work-in-progress.

Unleavened Dead will be published as soon as I finish writing it. And find an agent. And a publisher.

Please be patient.

To give you a taste in the meantime, though, look for the page on this site, titled (how imaginative): “About Unleavened Dead“. Under it you will find excerpts, including the first chapter and a description of Aviva’s cleaning her refrigerator for Passover while having a typical (for them) conversation with her sister.

Ilene