Beth Carpenter Books

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Have you ever suffered from temporary book amnesia? That disorientation you feel when you finish a really good book, look around the room, and wonder for a moment where you are and how you got there?  Kind of like half the atoms in your brain are still in that fictional world? I’ve experienced this phenomenon all my life, but now it's climbed to a new level. I’m currently writing book #3 of the Northern Lights Series. Meanwhile the first book, THE ALASKAN CATCH , comes out in August, so I’m working on excerpts and articles for marketing that book. The second book, A GIFT FOR SANTA , comes out in December and I've been working on frontmatter and am expecting edit notes for that one any day.  All the stories are related, but have different characters and plot lines. Plus, I have a couple of different non-writing projects that need my attention. Sometimes, I find myself staring at a my keyboard, trying to remember what I'm supposed to be working on....

Physically, I’ve always considered myself extraordinarily average. Brown hair, five-feet-five, not athletic but not hopelessly clumsy, just average. But I discovered I was wrong. My appendix was an overachiever. It all started a little over a week ago, with an aching stomach. Just your usual stomach bug, and not a particularly bad one. I was just glad I had a week to recover before boarding a plane to Anchorage. The pain worked its way from my stomach down the right to the lower right side of my abdomen over the next couple of days. I felt better, but that area was still tender when I moved or touched it. Then I had a fairly healthy couple of days, but the tenderness was still there, maybe a little worse. Sunday, I was fatigued as well as sore. I started googling appendicitis. While the pain and loss of appetite were classic symptoms, I had no fever, vomiting, etc. Still, I thought I should get checked out before flying. I called a walk-in clinic, but they said for appendicit...

My first newsletter is out! You can read it by clicking  here . To celebrate, I'm giving away this bracelet to one lucky newsletter subscriber. Hurry, the contest ends soon. 

On the way home from Durango, we took a little detour to Page, Arizona for a tour of Antelope Canyon, on the Navajo Reservation. I'd seen pictures, but they didn't compare to the real thing. Antelope Canyon is a slot canyon. It's only about six to eight feet wide, and during flash floods the water rushes through, forming these fantastic shapes in the rock. Up above, the narrow opening means the light peeks in and paints the rocks with light and shadow, changing during the day. Our tour was in the evening, so didn't have direct beams shining in. The tour starts in Page. While we waited, a talented hoop dancer performed for us. He manipulated a series of hoops over and around his body as he danced to the beat of a drum. Then they loaded us into the back of pickups and off we went to the canyon.  Look up Petrified waves Like clouds, the forms of the rocks often seem to contort themselves into recognizable patterns and surreal shapes. It...

Yesterday we flew from Anchorage to Arizona, with a stopover in Seattle. It was raining (big surprise I know.) For various reasons, our plane out of Seattle was late getting off and we had to wait behind ten other planes for takeoff. So I was waiting, reading my book, and happened to look out the window to see this.  I don't think I've ever seen a rainbow this low across the sky, or with such definition between the colors. The photo really doesn't do it justice, especially with the raindrops on the window, but you can take my word that it was spectacular.  This is one of those lessons I keep having to relearn. Beauty is all around us if we pay attention.  Look up. Do you see something beautiful?

I was puttering around in my garage today and found a time machine. Yes, Virginia, those are real vinyl record albums. Granted, the time machine isn't fully functional because, while we do still have a turntable, the stereo receiver it used to be hooked up to is long gone. But it doesn't matter. Just looking at the covers is enough to send me back in time. I remember when my friend introduced me to   Tiger Beat   and Donny Osmond. She had his album and a signed poster.  *sigh*   That smile, that hair. What twelve-year-old girl could resist? Then came the Carpenters and John Denver and Olivia Newton-John. Yeah, I wasn't much of a rebel. Eventually I discovered the Eagles, and Peter Frampton, and Fleetwood Mac.  My college boyfriend, now my husband, didn't sing or play an instrument, but he had one great musical talent. Within a few notes of a song starting on the radio, he could name the song, the band, and often the album. He introduced me t...