Monthly Archives: October 2014
To all my wonderful friends and readers who have been asking me when they could see my new novel, PLAY, MARIACHIS, PLAY! Well, it would have been (should have been) early this year were it not for a diabolical computer that ate it – all of it! An army of technicos could not retrieve it. My first impulse, of course, was to throw myself in the river and drown myself. When I prepared to take the dive I could see there was no water in it! Slashing my wrists was my next option, but Sonia, my faithful housekeeper, said, “Not in the house! I just did the floors!” That’s when I thought of poor John Steinbeck whose dog Toby chewed the first version of OF MICE AND MEN into confetti. Steinbeck didn’t beat Toby. He didn’t throw himself in the river. Instead, he wrote it a second time. That’s when I decided I could be brave too. I didn’t smash the computer into pieces and decided to write the whole thing over. It took a long time. I have just finished it and will post the details here.
Then, when Kindle confirms that it’s there and available, I will smash the Dell to pieces!
Thank you readers, for your loyalty and understanding.
With the plaza closed for major repairs everyone heads for the Bar Diana. A snake walked in and ordered a beer. A customer asked the bartender, “Do you get a lot of snakes in here?!” The bartender answered. “Not really, just the occasional smart asp.”
Our beautiful plaza, the social epicenter of Tecate, is closed for refurbishing. We may not be able to survive. The plaza is where families gather to enjoy the magic. Women shop for local arts and crafts. Lovers come to steal a kiss under the arches of the kiosk while strolling musicians offer a love song. Men gossip like old ladies as they play a game of dominos on concrete tables. Boys romp and play under the spray of the big fountain while little girls with frilly panties spin and twirl like ballerinas. Then there’s lunch under colored umbrellas at the outdoor cafes where you’ll fall under the spell of violins, guitars and big string bases and little frills from an accordian drift down like confetti at a fiesta. We are already suffering withdrawal symptoms.