It is that time of year. Fall; that in-between time; snuggled into the cooling weather beyond the heat of summer, and lazy sigh before the blast of winter. Chili and stew. Hot chocolate and apple cider. Leaves turning and dropping to the browning grass. The blooms of the cool loving chrysanthemums bursting with a final shout of color before the world turns to black and white or sepia tone.
When it comes to seasons, I have two favorites – spring and fall. I know, there are those die hard summer and winter lovers out there arguing for their seasonal standard-bearers. Perhaps it is a bit lukewarm to choose the in-between, however, the pleasant feeling of early summer gives way to dramatic heat too soon, and the crisp nights by the fire are too quickly overtaken by the bitter winds of Mr. Frost for me.
When I thought of fall, this song came to mind. Made popular by Peter, Paul, and Mary (names likely unfamiliar to younger readers), it speaks to the cyclical nature of life. The world spins in a circle, and though things happen on its way, it continues to turn. Our seasons tell the story of life year after year. Birth, growth, harvest, and death. It is with the passing of the flower that the seeds are able to grow.
The season of fall though not marked by the splish-splash of summer or the snow-swished skis of winter, has its own qualities. Oktoberfest, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and at least the preparation period of Christmas; pumpkins and popcorn balls, hayrides, apple bobbing, and cake walks (does anyone still do these things nowadays), all traditional products of the in-between. Years ago, fall included a carnival in the old school gym, booths manned by students from each grade. Flannel and sweaters come out of the closet, to warm cozy evenings. Smells of spice and baked goods fill kitchens. And football dominates the field of play.
Whatever your season, enjoy your harvest. And for those snow-bunnies, relish the thoughts of your coming cold. The passing of the torch will come soon enough.
There has been a lot of talk about our fire departments of in the past couple of years. And for good reason. This old country had been bone dry. Our county firefighters had a rough time , but a much appreciated period of rain slowed those fires down for a bit. Still, its a phase we go through, and we all know that there will likely be a time when those folks are out there fighting back to back fires when their communities suffer.
Fire departments across our county and Western Oklahoma have been under tremendous strain, both the men and woman who volunteer and the equipment they use. Folks throughout the county have held fundraisers and offered donations, stepping up as they seem to always do. I wouldn’t say we forget their sacrifices, because I don’t think we do. We know. We appreciate. But when the threats slow down the thoughts aren’t necessarily right on top. We really do have a great group of community service members in our county. You just can’t help but have some appreciation for what they do. These volunteers don’t just have to deal with the occasional fire. They assist in accident and storms, seeing their neighbors through difficult situations, all the while facing the same stresses of life, and often dealing with horrific circumstances.
This focus on the fire departments caused me to think back a bit, as I often do, reaching back in time through memories and recollections. Things have certainly changed over the years. When we moved to this little town it only had two fire trucks. They were parked down yonder in those two bays right off the old City Hall. If I remember right, one was an old Dodge Power Wagon, probably similar to the one pictured. Of course, the years and historians may prove me wrong, and that’s certainly okay by me. I know memories get tainted over time.
Yesterday, I got a call from my father-in-law. I had planned to take him to Beaver in just a bit.
“Bring a hoe with you. There’s a snake on my sidewalk landing. I almost stepped on it.” He sounded a little winded.
I got myself together and grabbed the hoe. When I pulled up at his house, there was another vehicle there, and there in the yard was my father-in-law and one of the other local residents. The snake had been dispatched with a shovel.
“Hey, M [I don’t generally use names here in order to protect the privacy of others on this platform]. How’d you end up over here?”
M explained that he was putting some trash in the dumpster and saw my father-in-law standing in the street looking back at the house. He decided to stop by and see if he was okay. He’d found the snake and taken care of it just before I showed up. We chit-chatted just a bit and I thanked him for stopping by. He dropped the tailgate on his pickup.
“I’ll haul this off for you.”
My father-in-law has some difficulty with his eyesight, and he didn’t see the snake until he’d almost stepped on it. He avoided the snake, but took a fall when he lost his balance. He was a little bruised up, and maybe a little rattled, but he was okay.
As, M drove away with the de-headed snake, we got in the car. My father-in-law asked who had helped him. Once I explained who it was, he reminisced. “Oh, well, I didn’t recognize him. I haven’t seen him for years.”
“He’s a real good guy,” I mentioned.
“Yeah, I always liked him. I like his dad, too,” he added.
When we got home, I explained to my wife what happened and how M had helped her dad.
Her response became the title for this post.
“The beauty of a small town.”
Sometimes it just takes those little acts of kindness to remind you. It’s the people that are the true beauty of a small town.
Hey folks, it’s been a minute, but I’m still here. I borrowed that phrase from a good friend of mine. She used to say that when it was obvious that too much time had passed, sarcasm dripping with the sentiment. In this case it seemed appropriate. The last original post on here was in November of last year, and there have been a lot of times I considered letting this website and the blog posts go during that time. Life has been pretty busy, and writing has sort of taken a back road for a while. When I have had the free time to write, I’ve been concentrating on finishing up some other writing projects.
But here we are, so for now I’ll just do a little update for now.
Margarita’s Dance was released in July of 2022. It’s had a tough time getting traction and reviews. Hey, that’s nothing new. Reviews are hard to get. People will tell me about it, but getting them to tell others about it is a little bit tough. Although I believe it is some of my best writing, and I loved the characters (including some of the side characters like Darwin and Elise), I recognize it isn’t for everyone. I’ve always referred to it as a more spicy novel than some of my others, but I’ve also always tried to write what comes to me.
I did get a little work done on Dhaenen’s Land in July. It is currently at 356 pages. My goal was around 600 pages, however, I’ve been toying with the idea of splitting it into two novels. I’ll just have to see where that goes.
I also worked on The Pied Piping of Peabody Pickerling and the Humble Harmony of Henry Heichelheim in July of this year. It’s a fun, coming of age novel. It is currently at 111 pages, a far cry from novel length. When I get to work on it, I enjoy my time with the characters. It is, of course, a small town novel, set in my fictional town of Prairie Blossom. It follows the life of a young man and the influences of two very different educators.
I have a proof for The Suicide Squeeze, but I’m just not satisfied with that story yet. I feel it lacks something and I need to figure it out before moving forward with publishing. For Love and Honor is a novel I wanted to get out much, much sooner, but the research has been the difficult part. Since it has a military theme, I’ve tried to make sure it has a realness to it. Each time I go back to it, I have to spend most of my time getting back into the details of the story, which eats away at the time I have to actually write it.
I keep picking at it, here and there. Perhaps as things smooth out, writing time will expand. For now, I’m going to keep this update short, and see if I can actually write a couple blog posts. If you’re still following along, give a shout. If you read Margarita’s Dance, consider giving a review – whether you liked it or not. If you are in need of a read, take a look at my Amazon Page or go out to the Jones and Plummer Trail Museum in Beaver where you can find my novels and those of other local writers. Speaking of Beaver, don’t forget the Beaver County Fair and World Championship Cow Chip Throwing Contest August 21-26. Maybe we’ll see you there.
It’s strange how we develop our traditions. Though many times they are produced by our experiences, dreams, and happy moments, other times they are a product of necessity. Even our local celebrations can be spawned by a need or a difficulty which caused them to occur in the first place.
Take Beaver’s local Cow chip throwing event. To outsiders, it seems a unique and unlikely thing for folks to get all pumped up about. They wonder why people would want to handle bovine excrement in the first place. But that little event has at its heart necessity. The pioneers who settled this land had to find fuel for stoves to cook and heat their homes in the winter. Traditional forms of fuel, wood and coal, were few and far between out on the open plains. So, they hitched up the wagon and got the family spread out over the countryside, and they walked around picking up the cow chips which they could burn., tossing them into the wagon. Before the cow chips, they were picking up buffalo chips, or making hay-ties.
Thank you to those who have taken a chance on Margarita’s Dance. Inside myself, I feel this book has some of by best writing. Margarita’s Dance is now the ripe old age of four months old, and is now largely in the hands of the readers. I can and certainly will continue to promote here and there, but it’s kind of like preaching to the choir. My followers are the people who tend to read my books anyway. The only way my pool expands is if followers share it. I can annoy my pool of people to death by chanting “Buy my book,” or I can move on and leave it in their hands. And in all reality, a book really is in the hands of the readers. If they like it… if they review it… if they share it.. if it moves them to talk about it with others… then it will do just fine. If those things don’t happen; it was just a stop along the way. Word of mouth, viral excitement, friends telling friends – that’s what really sells books. Most of the books I’ve read have come from recommendations, at least for the initial experience with the writer.
Therefore, it is time for me to change focus and finish up something else. I’m not sure which book will be next. It will probably either be The Suicide Squeeze or For Love and Honor. But who knows? There’s Something About Henry just popped up. I was well on the way with The Ladder Climber and I suddenly stopped and went a different direction. I guess I’ll figure it out along the way.
Recently, a reader asked some questions about one of my earlier novels, and it kind of caused me to think about what has gone into some of the novels. I decided to throw this out as kind of a recap. Whispers In The Wind. Most of the locations in that book came from my childhood, and existed at the time I was growing up. We did sit on top of the old jail by the park as kids. I did love the hand mixed soda’s at the Triple A Drug Store. The Commercial Hotel was still open, taking lodgers, and serving as the bus stop for the town, but its cafe was closed. We had the Sunset motel and cafe at the top of the hill. The APCO and Shamrock gas stations were both open; as was the Hardware store. And of course, none of us could forget our Friday or Saturday nights at the Forgan Theater or Mrs. Hawes. The old Depot was turned into a fantastic steakhouse. Sadly, many of those places burned down in one fire or another.
We also had a few dances at the old Odd Fellows Hall (still kind of stands). I took most liberty with the existence of the railroad. It was gone by the time I came along. And the hardware store in my book is kind of a blend of the Hardware (destroyed with most of Main Street) and the Home Lumber building (also still kind of stands).
The homes for the Newburns and the McAllisters both had elements of my old home. In both Whispers In The Wind and There’s Something About Henry, I loosely based the Lazy B ranch on what used to be the T bar T (now the Wildlife Refuge).
Loving Deacon again used my home for the home of Deacon and Emily. The story involves a present day Forgan as well as the Forgan of 1917. With this span, I used historical references as well as more modern locations. I took some liberty with both. Many locations in the book were rural or out of country. There was an immense amount of research that went into the WWI and WWII scenes. Besides statistics and battles in the war, I looked at images, maps, and historical accounts.
In the Ladder Climber, the setting is focused in Colorado; Gunnison, Salida, Montrose, and Durango all play a part . Nick works for the worlds largest retailer (you figure that one out) and tours stores all over that area. Nick’s dream location was up the Quartz Creek Valley. It has long been my place of solitude, though it seems the secret got out and everyone goes there now. I’ve hiked up to the Roosevelt mine more times than I can count. The cabin where he meets Sarah for the ski trip was in the Wolf Creek area and I did find a cabin on a real estate site that suited as an image reference.
For The Blemished Rose, I used the Dallas/Denton area, as well as Galveston and Houston. All were places I’ve either lived or with which I’ve been familiar. When the places got bigger, I had a little more room to create restaurants and other businesses, although I usually start with something real and move on from there. For example, the shelter I used was real, but I used different names.
For Some Kind of Life, I again went back to the Panhandle, but since the story largely revolved around the school, and since I didn’t want to create any issue with my local administration or projection conflicts, I created the fictional town of Prairie Blossom. I have retained my rightful role of owner and mayor of Prairie Blossom in some other stories I have in development as well.
Margarita’s Dance is set on a ranch in the Panhandle and in Galveston. The ranch is largely fictional with pieces picked up here and there. In Galveston I created two fictional restaurants and one bar. I usually do some research by reading about local places and looking at images. Even when creating some thing which is pure fiction, there is a lot of research for me. In scene where Dave watches the grey heron, I can’t tell you how many pictures and videos I looked at before I wrote the passage.
You know, it’s always hard to toss that finished manuscript out there, but I’ve done it… seven times. Seven books. Seven novels (Novel – a piece of long narrative in literary prose.…meant to entertain and tell a story). I’m not sure I ever thought I’d say that. Seven times I’ve tossed out pieces of me for someone to like or not like. Seven times I’ve opened up to success or ridicule. Seven tales spun from within, shared with the world. Thanks for coming along on the journey.
I guess that was a bit of a writing ramble, and I guess I have my title. If I lost you after the first paragraph or two, well… you’re gone so there isn’t anyone to talk to about it. If I didn’t lose you after the first couple paragraphs, you have some idea of the background for each novel. Hey, thanks for sticking around, and thanks for reading along. I’ll see you down the trail.
We’ll here we are. Fall has finally shown up. The temperature has taken a turn for the better and gone are those one hundred plus days. Folks are cooking chili, stew, and chicken noodle soup. Friday Night Lights are once again glowing through the evenings which are growing cool and crisp. Hot cider, hot chocolate, and coffee sounds like the drinks of choice (although any day without coffee is troublesome to me). Windows open, air conditioner off nights. Doors open (fly fighting) days. It is all certainly welcome!
Well, to most of us it’s welcome anyway. The smell of autumn has just arrived, and we already have people posting snowmen memes. The leaves ain’t even turned colors yet, and we got flake flakes posting hopes for snow, ice, and cold. People, you don’t have football without fall. You don’t have Halloween without fall. You don’t have harvest moons, warm cider, kaleidoscope colors, pumpkins, sweaters, hayrides, or pictures of bushy-tailed squirrels gathering acorns without fall. You can’t hang out that scarecrow door wreath you’ve been storing in the coat closet for the past ten months without fall. No caramel apples, no excuses to buy bags and bags of candy, no reason to complain that Christmas is already on display at Walmart, and (this should hit you hard) no gaining an extra hour of sleep when you Fall Back without fall. You simply don’t have transition without fall. So, you freeze freaks cool your jets. Let’s let fall stay here a little while. I can do without shoveling snow, scraping ice, and thawing pipes just a little bit longer.
Don’t get me wrong. I love the picturesque snow covered countryside; warm fires and cozy movie nights as much as the next person, but it seems summer and winter get too much of the year. Fair is fair, and I like the in-between. Spring and fall around here have been getting the short end of the stick, pushed out of the way by the big seasons. To each its due, folks. I’d like those mild Goldilocks disappointing temps (neither too hot nor too cold) to stick around for at least long enough to get tired of them.
So, you snow worshipers out there, slow down your prayers just a bit; hold off on those snow posts; keep the snow boots in the hall closet just a little while longer, and remember that about two months into the deep freeze most people are going to be calling for sun. Let’s get some cool, crisp rain with fall feels before we start trying to remember where we left the snow shovel.
She is Live! Margarita’s Dance is finally live on Kindle. The book is $4.99, and if you have Kindle Unlimited it is FREE. You can get it Right HERE <– Yep! Right there or click the cover picture. Or just go to Amazon.com and look up C.E. Lemieux, Jr and you can pull up all the books. Or you can go to my author page –> Right HERE and click away. So many ways to find it on Amazon.
Of course the paperback can be found Right HERE on Barnes and Noble as well. I’m not sure how long until I can get it on Nook. For a while all the books were exclusive to Kindle since Amazon offers more promotional support if it is exclusive. That hasn’t been a big selling point lately, so I’ve returned the first two books to Nook and will probably start making the others available there as well.
As for the paperback, I’d like to say a big thank you –> THANK YOU <– to those of you, like me, who just get a thrill from cracking open a new book, turning those paper pages, and getting that ‘new book’ smell. You jumped in there and started buying it from the day it was announced. The investment in a traditional book form is considerably higher than the digital version, and I appreciate that investment. I have a large number of books in my Kindle Library, but I still enjoy holding a book, marking my place with what ever is handy, and turning those pages.
Today, Margarita’s Dance is available to all — both the hardcore, hold it in your hand book junkie and the tech crazy, read it on the go Kindle buyer — just in time for one final Summer Read. I hope you enjoy it. And I hope you’ll take the time to leave a review on it, whether it fits your fancy or it doesn’t. To all of you who spend the money to buy one of my novels, whatever format you choose, Thank You, Thank You, Thank You.
Life moves quick, so happy reading, and don’t be embarrassed to dance to its music.
It’s Official. Margarita’s Dance, my first novel since 2016, is published in paperback. This seventh novel comes almost twelve years after my first book, Whispers in the Wind, was published. You can pick it up at THIS SPOT on Amazon. For the moment, that is the only place you will find Margarita’s Dance. The Kindle Version is available forpre-order on Amazon HERE right now with delivery July 30th.
So. A little about Margarita’s Dance. It isn’t Whispers in the Wind or Loving Deacon. It is spicy, tragic, and fun. It is more sensual than most of my stuff. It’s not a young adult novel, but it’s a long way from Fifty Shades of Gray. Straight up — some people will like it; some won’t. But I’m not Nicholas Sparks, so I don’t make a living at this; I write because I like to write. And that means, I write what I enjoy writing, because if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to get those voices out of my head. I offer what I write to others in the event that they might like it, too. I enjoyed developing the characters in Margarita’s Dance, even the minor characters – like Boone, Elise, and Darwin. In fact, someday, Darwin may get his own story. I appreciate the energy Margarita brings to the story, and I really like the cover. It was a fun novel to write.
There once was a time when a man, nearly everybody trusted and looked forward to hearing from reported twice a day. In the morning, he gave a complete summary of the news. At lunch time, he told you a story. The story was usually both informative and surprising, often focusing on a person or event of which everyone was aware, but nobody knew the complete version. Or perhaps there was a little known fact which had tremendous impact upon history.
