Aside

You say tomato…

And Rose says “Pancakes.” Or is it Hotcakes?

Seriously. I need to know.

Rose was cooking Harold breakfast, which is a chore for her, given she’s a pretty bad cook, when she was stopped dead in her tracks by a very indecisive writer.

Would Rose say pancakes or hotcakes? Which phrase reads rural Nebraska in 1930?

That was several hours ago. Since then, I’ve been searching the internet for an answer.

Instead, I’ve found out that pancakes have been around since the 15th century, although back then they made them with mincemeat. Ewww!

And, that in addition to pancake or hotcake, there are also flapjacks, flannel cakes, slapjacks, griddle cakes, and johnny cakes.

I even found a delicious recipe for Oatmeal Pancakes here, that I stopped and made. And they were YUMMMM!

But I still don’t know if Rose would say pancakes or hotcakes?

What do you call them? Include where you grew up and I’ll post a map showing the regional preferences.

Gallery

The 4Fs of Thanksgiving

I’ve been getting ready for Thanksgiving. Cleaning neglected rooms. Brainstorming a long weekend’s worth of menus. Slowly laying in supplies.

All this focus on Thanksgiving, and the impending descent of Christmas shopping, has made me wish for a simpler day, without all the sales hype and food flurry. You know… A Thanksgiving Day like Rose might have had.

Surprise! Things in 1929 were not so different from today after all. Continue reading

First Meetings (part 3)

If you’ve just joined us, Rose and I have been talking about how she and Harold first met, an exercise suggested by the editor to whom I pitched my story idea at the recent writers’ conference I attended. It’s turned out to be a rather long, drawn-out story. You can catch up with Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

ROSE: I’m afraid this is taking much longer than you had expected. Shall I go on?

TM: {nods} Please. You had just fainted when you saw the mess on your hands. Continue reading

Aside

First Meetings (part 2)

If you recall, Rose and I have been talking about how she and Harold first metan exercise suggested to me by the editor that heard my story pitch. When we left Rose last time, she had stopped mid-story for a glass of lemonade.

I don’t know about you, but the wait has been excruciating.

Finally, I’ve pinned her down for more…

 

After some coffee—strong, because that’s what Rose thought I meant when I said something “stronger”—we settle on the porch swing. The sun is low on the horizon and I’m wishing I’d brought a sweater with me. Evenings get chilly in a hurry this time of year.

ROSE: Now, where were we?

TM: You had just found yourself face to face with—

ROSE: Oh, yes! Well, I wasn’t sure what I was face to face with. This… thing… covered in muck and blood stood outside a dilapidated shed. Continue reading

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First Meetings

I recently attended my first writers’ conference. One of the many firsts I experienced while there was pitching my story idea to an editor, Brenda Copeland. In the midst of my rambling, often incoherent, story pitch, she asked me a question I couldn’t answer; “How did these two characters meet?”

It’s an important question, given the disparity in their social classes, Harold being from what some would call the ‘wrong side of the tracks’ and Rose being significantly higher up on the social ladder. So, I decided it was time that Rose clued me in. We sat down and had a little talk…

TM: Since we’re exploring your former life, do you mind if I ask how you and Harold met? You have to admit, you two aren’t the average farm couple.

ROSE: Hmmm… The day I met Harold… {smiles, nods her head} At the time, I thought it was the worst day of my life. Continue reading