Published Works

Coming soon…Calliope in Time, a first, short novel. Genre, you ask? Let’s call it fictional, spiritual, self help, sci-fi, hyperbolic autobiography. Self-published, 2008. It will be available from Basementia Publications in a month or so.  Here is something I wrote about it, endeavoring to come up with a query letter:
Calliope in Time is the story of an aging flower child who leaves her forest home in the Northwest to search for her husband who has mysteriously disappeared. She is picked up by an old friend on a desert highway in New Mexico. Though they are both “headed in the wrong direction” their ultimate destination is their twenty-fifth high school reunion. Their journey becomes a comedic investigation into the nature of time, the ego, multi-dimensional entities, the FBI, dyslexia and artificial intelligence. Each chapter contains a story from the main character’s childhood, establishing her connections to the intertwining themes.
Here are some excerpts from each chapter–
Excerpt, Chapter 1: Shoes

Living in the house next to the neighbor who always returned her shoes, was a child who was never out on the streets with the other kids. Calliope’s mom, Lou, suggested that she go over and play with this girl. Beth was a few years older than Calliope but did not talk. The two would often play together on the swing set in Beth’s back yard, in silent communion. In fact, it was Beth who had given her the idea of throwing her shoes over a fence. One breezy fall day Beth threw her shoes into the wash behind their houses, and they wordlessly watched the Buster Browns float slowly down the small stream.

Excerpt, Chapter 2: Work

Callie stared at her papers for a moment, set them aside and then said “OK.” She threw off her defeatist air and momentarily brightened. “I’ve certainly done my time as a waitress. Let’s see, there was Denny’s, Pizza Hut, the Cal Tech cafeteria—I told you about that. Now that was a great job, then the golf course–good tips, especially at banquets. But that was the top of that hill, then came the inevitable demise– Ray’s Lunch. I told you about the unusual tips I got there…and the shoot out? Then the donut shop where the owner got really inappropriate with me one day. He had a habit of taking off his shoes and leaving them by the door so I poured batter into his shoes before I walked out and never came back.

Excerpt, Chapter 3: Mirrors

Callie walked towards the bright yellow Carmengia. She liked the looks of the little car. Besides, she had already refused to take three rides, her caution approaching paranoia. But looks could be deceiving. ‘If only I had a dog to hitchhike with me, I’d feel better about this.’ she thought to herself, deciding to open the door. “I should probably just check into an animal shelter at the next stop,” she said out loud, her eyes perusing the back seat. Then, she looked into the mirrored sunglasses of the driver continuing to assess the advisability of taking the ride.
“What did you say?” the woman asked, laughing. “I’m sure there will be shelters for humans in the next town if that’s where you’re headed,” the woman added, momentarily doubting her choice to stop.

Excerpt, Chapter 4: Puppets

Callie was standing outside the bathroom door behind Meredith and confronted her immediately. “Give me that. You have no idea what that is!” She was practically yelling.
Meredith regained composure quickly. ”I do know what it is; it’s a puppet, Callie.” Her lips tightened slightly and her eyes indicated a level of preparation for debate, as she set the puppet on the bed. She relaxed her body and sat down, waiting for Callie to speak. She could see the familiar struggle of a person with a dark secret as the decision to tell takes place, and she waited. But the wine had affected her. As she looked at the puppet again, she lost concentration, dropped the therapy facade and asked in her familiar high pitched musing tone “Hey, isn’t that your dog, I mean the dog you used to have. What was his name… Dopey? Yes, that was it. My god Callie, I had no idea you had this artistic talent. It looks exactly like your dog; the one you used to take hitchhiking all over with you.”

Excerpt, Chapter 5: Intelligence
”That means that Carlo’s brain is…”
“…approximately one in a million.” Dan supplied her with the estimate he had calculated.
“Well, intelligence isn’t everything.” Callie responded.
“Yes it is.’ Dan said.
“No, it isn’t There’s love, art, beauty and common sense, too. Every highly intelligent person I’ve met at Tech is…”
Tanya interrupted her. “They’re all highly intelligent, Callie. That’s a given.”
“As I was saying, Tanya…. Do they have any common sense? I’ve never known people who are so consistently flaky.”
“Maybe it’s just all the boyfriends you choose, Callie. Most of mine have been brilliant in a very organized and predictable way.”
“Thank you…I think.” Dan said. “You’re smart too, Callie.” he offered. “Otherwise you wouldn’t survive some of the conversations I’ve heard you engage in with Carlo.”
“It’s just street smarts.” Callie said.
Tanya turned to the back seat again and took the opportunity to speak up about something since Carlo was no longer in the car. “You shouldn’t let him treat you the way he does, Callie. I don’t care how smart he is.” She looked at Dan, and then turned back to Callie. “He’s so patronizing. He absolutely treats you like a child.”
“I prefer it that way.” Callie responded.
“Until she has a point of view she wants to defend,” Dan said. “Then she’s like a wild animal:”
“What kind of animal am I like?” Callie said. She liked this game.
“A dog fighting over a bone, I guess.” Dan replied.
“No,” Tanya said. “Callie is more like a cat– independent, yet capable of purring. But watch out for the claws if they come out. You’re the one that’s a dog, Dan” She laughed.
“What are we talking about?” Dan said as he turned into Griffith Park where the concert was.
“Intelligence.” Callie responded.

Excerpt, Chapter 6: Time

We can’t see anything in the fourth dimension.” Henry continued.
“How come we can’t see anything in the fourth dimension?” Callie responded.
This question stopped the new math teacher in her tracks, as she was walking to the sink to deposit her dish. “Yeah. Why can’t we?” she echoed
“I mean,” Callie said, “Is it because our eyes can’t see it, or is it the mind that can’t see. I mean I learned from that video in Mr. Conley’s class the other day that artists from the Egyptian era used to paint in two dimensions. Then the Renaissance came along, with the trick of perspective and artists were able to depict things in a three dimensional way. And then it talked about Picasso and everything, kind of painting things in a fourth dimensional way. Did you know Picasso said ‘I paint things as I think them, not as I see them’? It just seems logical, to me, that if we are evolving, we should be able to see the fourth dimension.”
“Well, some of us might, depending on what we smoked in the morning,” one of the other math teachers said sarcastically.

Excerpt, Chapter 7: Space

As she lay on the hood of the car taking in the desert sky, Callie remembered something she always remembered on occasion. When she was about twelve years old, she really couldn’t remember exactly how old she had been, she was looking out of her bedroom window one night. Gazing at the moon, clouds and a deepening sky, she told herself she would never forget this moment, the way the sky looked and how she felt about everything. The memory would lay in storage for years sometimes, but she always recalled it. There was no particular meaning attached to this memory, just a returning image of a state of being.

How to Chaperone at the Beach and Other Recipes
My mother, Louise St. Clair began her book How to Chaperone at the Beach and Other Recipes sometime in the 1960’s. When she moved from Southern California to the state of Washington to live close to me after her stroke in 1985, I began to revive the project as a focus for her rehabilitation. I also started to write my own autobiographical pieces. Somehow our stories began to interweave and sometimes collide in comic fashion. The “monster” , as my mother used to refer to her book, evolved into a non-chronological thematically arranged compilation of material spanning the fifties through the nineties. It is salty with intimacy and emotion, peppered with quirky perspectives, shocking 60’s rollicks, numerous prefaces, correspondence, recipes and pictures. Some of the themes addressed include mother/daughter transformations, community building, environmental activism, shamanism (or, at the very least, neo-paganism–a pastime which began for my mother and I while watching Bewitched) It is also a self help manual for those who may be beyond help but need a good laugh, and a gentle cry.
Truthfully, the first time this book was published is when my husband bound three copies for me. I gave a couple of them away and began editing right away in the one I kept. I have since made a few copies for friends who paid me $25 for it. It is available on CD, with photos for only $12.00–what a deal. Let me know if you want it in that format and I will send it to you when you send me a check made out to The Matrix Coffeehouse. Send it to 434 NW Prindle St. Chehalis, WA 98532.

My credentials are:
–A BA from The Evergreen State College(the progressive college that birthed the genius of Matt Groenig, creator of the Simpsons)
–An MA in Education which has allowed me to be a teacher for “gifted” elementary students, “developmentally different” adults and English as a Second Language students I am currently a substitute teacher which allows me to make a meager living while I am writing. Miraculously(though only occasionally), telling the kids I’ve written a book makes them be quiet.
–Living with trees and creatures on twenty acres of land without running water or electricity for about 8 years
–Taking care of my mother from 1985 until 1992 when she passed away, and my father who had Alzheimer’s for a couple of those years also
–I saw the Dalai Lama at a small art museum in Pasadena, CA in 1970 and it changed my life forever.
–My partner, son and I started a music venue/restaurant/community center which we have done for twelve years for no money but we keep doing it because we are stubborn and have a point to make(on most days).