Sunday, July 16, 2017

Shoe fetish

         Remember pet rocks? Well I have a pet shoe.
         In some ways she's like an abandoned kitten that I rescued from the animal shelter. With her stately red heel, satiny pleats and tiny black bow, you know she has an exotic past. I imagine she was originally purchased for a wedding or prom or to complete a very special outfit.
        But I didn't get the shoe as an addition to my wardrobe. I was looking for a red shoe with pizazz to use as a model for the cover of my second mystery, One Shoe Off.  I found this beauty at a used clothing store in Hudsonville. In the meantime, however, my graphic designer, Ryan Wallace, had already created a hauntingly iconic open-toed shoe for the cover design.
       But my classy shoe didn't get her bow in a snit. She's a team player. She holds bookmarks at book signings and always steals the show.  Everyone asks where she came from.
        There's something intriguing about a solo shoe. In  One Shoe Off, newspaper editor Zelda Machinko disappears leaving only a shoe behind. The abandoned shoe pops up thirty years later and reopens the investigation into the Zelda's disappearance.
       Zelda's spirit has been extra restless this summer. My pet shoe  has been popping up all over, from beaches to mountains, graduations to barnyards. And now I hear she's headed to Russia to track down who's responsible for all those reports of election tampering.
        You never know where #1shoeoff will lead.


Sunday, July 2, 2017

How's your summertime?

            Today as I was setting up this photo as part of the #1shoeoff promotion for my second mystery, I thought of the song "Summertime" from the operetta "Porgy and Bess" by the Gershwin brothers. It's always been one of my favorites.
            The show opens in a black tenement in Charleston, South Carolina. A mother sings the lullaby to her baby, extolling the easy life of  summer. The song fantasizes a bit that the child will have an easy life because "your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'." Life can be like summertime.
           Then I realized that nobody in Charleston, where I lived in the 1970s, would call summertime easy. It's hot as hell, drippy humid and swat-craze buggy. February and March are much nicer. In fact rich folks from the Charleston Lowcounty used to escape inland in the summers, which accounts for the founding and naming of the pleasant little town of Summerville.
            Ira Gershwin, who wrote the lyrics to "Summertime," lived in New York. He probably saw summer as a welcome reprieve, as did most of the New Yorkers watching this show on Broadway. Ira used his view of summer, not the character's view.
             It reminded me of a mistake most of us make. We see the world from our perspective and assume that perspective is true for everyone. Many of our disagreements over "truth" are just a matter of perspective.