You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain’t no matter. That book was made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth.
~ Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Get your facts first, then distort them as you please.
Tabitha Baynes has taken off a ton of weight for love of Gonzalo,
owner of the best Tex-Mex restaurant in Central Texas.
But it’s hard to keep that size-one figure when
Gonzalo’s favorite ingredient is cheese.
And when longtime nemesis Ana Alvarado is waiting to pounce.
To pass the time till she can get hold of her inheritance
and spend it on easy living in Aruba,
librarian Marva Lu Urquhart needs a project.
Old classmate Joe McDowell might make a good one.
If she can get him away from his wife.
“Murder On Wheels: Eleven Tales Of Crime On The Move is a solidly good anthology from eight talented authors and one that is well worth your time.” ~ Kevin Tipple, Flash Bang Mysteries
“A Nice Set of Wheels”
Rosemary’s mother left town. Rosemary wants out, too.
Good-looking drifter Campbell Reed will be driving away any day now.
What are the chances he’ll take Rosemary along?
“Hell on Wheels”
If small-town librarian Marva Lu Urquhart can convince
old Judge Vardaman to cooperate,
she can dispose of her batty mama
and spend her inheritance and the rest of her life
lying on the beach in Aruba.
The Judge was once Mama’s sweetheart–
but he thinks Marva Lu is pretty cute, too.
I’ve also published bits of memoir in Story Circle Network’sTrue Words Anthology and Journal, and reviewed books for Story Circle on Amazon.
I’m Kathy Waller, AKA M.K., former teacher, former librarian, former paralegal, and former pianist at various small churches desperate for someone who could find middle C.
I write crime fiction, literary fiction, humor (I hope), memoir, and whatever else comes to mind.
I grew up in Fentress, population ~ 150 in 1960, on the San Marcos River in Central Texas, the Blackland Prairie, where pickups hauled hay and kids and horses, guns killed the occasional
rattlesnake, Miss Pedula the milk cow grazed by the roadside, and a dear old gentleman named Dick Ward sold double-dip ice cream cones for a nickel.
Old ladies played dominoes on front porches in the afternoons, and old men gossiped on benches outside the post office. There were still horned toads and lightning bugs, and mosquitoes were one-tenth the size they are now. In 1983, my parents finally installed working locks on the doors.
Life was good. I would like to have the mosquitoes and the nickel ice cream and the old people back. A few things, however, are best left behind.
Memories provide grist for my word mill.
I now live in Austin, Texas, with two cats and one husband.
Like other writers, I’m first, last, and always a reader. Like other former English teachers and librarians, I no longer have a captive audience (“Read this! It’s wonderful!”), so I spread the word the best way I can.
I list authors and titles as they come to mind. The list grows day by day. I expect it to meander all the way to Infinity.
The Truth: Clyde Edgerton. He’s a genius, a writer who brings you to tears and then, before you can put away your crying towel, makes you laugh so hard you start crying again. And each of his books is different from the rest.