Taking The Plunge

     I took the plunge last week. I published two of my short stories separately as books on Kindle. Partly just to get them out there, partly to learn how to do it. It's a bit tricky, but not much. I must say another reason was to ramp up my incentive to finish other work and get it out there too! 

I have a series of novels in the works, set in the small central Texas town of Shin Oak Ridge in the mid 1980's and featuring Deputy Constable Pen Sadler. The above short stories are set in the same area, in the county seat of Copete County, Cedar City, just a few miles from Shin Oak, and in the present day. They feature Parson Short, the only private eye in Cedar City and probably the county. 

It's a soft-boiled private eye series with a bit a fun. Give it a try. I hope you like it and give me a good review. 

You can get "Hanging Chad" here. You can get "The Case of the Other Sister's Mister" here. If you're interested, you can also see my Kindle Author page here.

Thank you!

Tarot Interactions

I've been taking tarot classes and using tarot for almost ten years. Tarot Interactioins by Deborah Lipp gave me some great insights into the art of reading. tarot. I learned a lot from the exercises and sample readings. Chapters on interactions between tarot and other disciplines were concise but very well thought out. I'd suggest it to everyone I know who is interested in tarot. Five stars.

Review: Tail Gait by Rita Mae Brown

I just finished the upcoming novel Tail Gait, by Rita Mae Brown. It's a very good read if you enjoy a good cozy with paws. This one has Harry and her furry assistants ferreting out a couple of murders connected to the local university and its football team alumni. It has been awhile since I looked at this series of mysteries and I'm glad to see that it continues with vigor. The title comes out from Bantam in May of 2015 and it's worth watching for.

For Us, the Living: A Comedy of Customs by Robert A. Heinlein
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I was a bit chagrined when I found that my local library only had two Robert A. Heinlein books on the adult shelves. I was happy, though, that one was this one. This is Heinlein's first novel, never before released. It was rejected a couple of times and he moved on to other projects. The book is a bit rough, and overly preachy. He did, in fact, write it to present his ideas on politics, finance, and society in general.
I enjoyed it, however. It was fun to see the seeds of his later "future history" novels. It was stated that perhaps this was why he didn't pursue publishing it further, since he had pretty much developed everything in it in further works.
It makes sense. It was still and enjoyable read for me.
Of course, now it's a bit of a let down to know that I don't have any more Heinlein novels to look forward to, alas.

View all my reviews

The Azure Shade of the Bluebottle Tree - Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The Sheriff hadn't liked it a bit that Pen was looking into Charlie's death. He liked it even less that Pen was looking at Dub Holt's murder as well. He tried to say the two weren't connected, but he couldn't even sell that idea to himself. They'd managed to find the bullet that killed Charlie. It had gone straight through, back to front. It had been found in a cedar fence post across the road. Ballistics revealed another .222 caliber slug, no rifling. What had seemed pretty likely now seemed definite. Bits of some sort of plastic had also been found in Charlie's wound.

Red threatened bodily harm if Pen didn't share everything he found out. He then assigned Elena Delgado to be Pen's liason with the department. Pen was surprised. He would have expected to be saddled with someone like Bud. He tried hard not to show his elation. 

Since Pen was part of the investigation now, he could go back and make his "official" survey of the crime scenes with Elena. They walked the Dub Holt scene first. They spiraled out from the bottle tree, foot by foot without finding anything till they reached a point roughly halfway to the stock tank dam. Pen hadn't told Elena what he suspected, but she was the one who found it. She waved him over, and Pen looked down. A white plastic cylinder, opened a bit on one end like a flower. Elena pushed it into an evidence bag with her pen.

"A sabot. Looks like .30 caliber, there's our rifling, the other end looks like it could fit a .222 slug."

"Well, that explains it. How many .30 calibers of different kinds are there around here?"

Elena looked thoughtful. "Probably a bolt action with a clip feed, though. Not a Winchester 30-30, for instance."

"Yeah. it wouldn't feed through a tubular magazine. Definitely a clip."

"30-06 or .308 maybe."

"Maybe. We'll see what the lab says."

Sometimes varmint hunters will use a sabot load to shoot a smaller caliber slug in a larger rifle. It was a way to use one rifle for both large and small game and retain reasonable accuracy. It also meant that, for evidence purposes, there were no rifling marks on the bullet. An added complication for a jury to consider. At least now they had the plastic sabot to help.

Now that the general direction of the shot was established, Pen and Elena continued their search toward the dam.

Closer inspection of the top of the dam revealed two circular depressions where the shooter's elbows may have rested and some scuff marks a short distance away. Pen carefully assumed a prone position near the marks. The shooter would have been close to Pen's height, six feet tall.

There was nothing else at the dam. They drove over to County Road 210.

     Pen pulled over on the shoulder of  210 where he'd parked before. Elena parked behind him. They walked to the spot Charlie's body had been found and stopped. Neither felt a need to break the silence as they stood and looked around.

It was Pen who finally spoke.

"What was he doing here on foot?"

"Nobody seems to know. No driveways anywhere close. His car is still at his house."

They could see the tag a deputy had put on the fence post where the slug was found. They turned and looked in the other direction. The line made by the fence post and the body's position continued to a grove of oak and cedar just over the fence about fifty yards beyond. Elena said, "they found a spot by that oak where the shooter probably stood."

"Pretty good shot in the dark. Low light scope, maybe. No moon last night, clear, starlight."

Elena thought a moment. "And the white road gravel behind Charlie, too. That would help."

Pen looked at his notebook. "Preliminary report from the coroner shows restraint marks on Charlie's wrists. Somebody had him tied up somewhere. A few bruises too. Maybe he was beaten, maybe bruised while escaping."

"Who'd do that to Charlie Adams? And why?"

Pen put his notebook away. "That's what we have to find out. It is no coincidence that two officers of First Fidelity State Bank would be shot by a similar weapon and just a few days apart."

El checked her watch. "The bank is closed by now if it wasn't already."

"Tandy McAlister is the senior vice-president there now. We'll see when we can talk to him. I think we've done all we can today."

When they returned to their units the seats were already blistering hot. They started the engines and waited for the interiors to become bearable again. Elena returned to the sheriff's office and Pen continued to town.

    Pen thought about the bank as he followed County Road 210 through Shin Oak. The streets were quiet, not much activity except for the guys on the spit 'n whittle bench by the domino parlor. He drove on to State Highway 411. First Federal State Bank was located on the north side of the intersection. From the highway he could see the large black wreath fluttering on the door. He drove into the tastefully landscaped parking lot and saw Patricia Belmont's blue Mustang convertible parked next to Morgan Culver's red Porsche. The two women were standing by the cars and finished their conversation as he stepped out of the car.

Patricia had obviously been crying. "This is so awful, Pen. How's Sara Beth holding up?"

"She's  holding up pretty well. I haven't heard from her this afternoon."

Patricia Belmont was a puzzle. She'd been Parr Culver's first wife. She'd been secretary to Principal Ted Stokely at the high school five years ago when they had both been fired from the school district for mishandling funds. She and Parr had gotten divorced about the same time. Patricia had taken back her maiden name and somehow had gotten a responsible position at First Federal.

Morgan Culver was married to Parr's cousin, Bobby Lee. She was a good ten years older than her husband, and the subject of more than her share of talk. Her straightforward attitude had won many supporters, including Pen. He wondered what the two had been talking about. Other than the family connection they didn't seem to have much in common. He let it pass, though, that wasn't why he was here. He turned to Patricia.

"Is Tandy around?"

Patricia looked at the bank, then back to Pen as she wiped her eyes and got into her car. "No, the bank was closed today because of Charlie. I just came in to do some paperwork. Tandy came by for a few minutes earlier, though. You could probably catch him at home."

"Will the bank be open tomorrow?"

"I'm sure it will. I'm sure we'll close for the funeral. Any word when it will be?"

"I haven't heard anything. I'm sure Jo Ellen will put up the notice at the post office when it's set."

Patricia lifted her left hand in goodby as she drove away. Morgan had stood by quietly as they were talking.

"You two never went out, did you?"

"We never really hit it off. Why?"

"I don't know. You're both single, close in age." Morgan laughed. "That seems to matter a lot in Shin Oak."

"Age isn't everything, Morgan. I think I've heard you say that a few times."

She chuckled again. She was a lovely, intelligent woman, and one of Pen's best friends.

"Will we see you at the ritual, Morgan?"

"I wouldn't miss it. Steve coming?"

Since my brother Sam had died twelve years ago I'd been keeping a close relationship with my nephew Steve. He was now sixteen and thinking about driving and girls. He'd always liked coming to the pagan circle and often volunteered to handle some of the supporting functions.

"Sure. He'll be tending fire, if we have one!"

Morgan smiled. "We'll see you then."

     The ritual was a bit subdued. Lammas is one of the eight traditional sabbats but it is sometimes skipped, at least in Central Texas. Seasonally, it was a bit out of place. Back in Celtic times and places, the first of August was indeed a time for harvest of grains and all that, but here in Texas it was just darn hot. Sometimes the festivals that were designed for places with one growing season were an odd fit for a place with two, or sometimes three. It's also a "fire" festival. There was no fire this time, for the sake of the temperature and the county-wide fire ban that was in its sixty-third day.

Pen thought it was wishful thinking to celebrate the "end" of summer when they wouldn't be seeing cooler days for several months. He looked forward to the Fall equinox, Mabon, and then October's Samhain, the witch's new year, and the really kick-ass ritual. That aside, Owl and Lisa Garrison had done a great job on Lammas. Owl was the name Oso's wife Teresa used for magickal work. Some pagans used their own names, as Pen and Lisa Garrison did. Others chose names that suited them or represented a totem animal or interest.

As always the fellowship after the ritual was fun. Sharing bread, fruit, and wine with the others was always a treat. Pen looked around at this, his community of friends, his family of choice. Lisa was there, and Elena. Oso and Owl brought kolaches. Esme had brought pan dulce. Morgan's ice-cold sangria was fruity and refreshing.

It was a good turn out considering the heat. For the past several years the circle had met here on Lisa Garrison's property. She had a perfect oak grove, open in the center, shady with a good breeze even now. A spring fed creek ran nearby with a small pool to cool off in. The circle took turns keeping it neat for meetings. It was one of Pen's favorite places. There were a couple of permanent altars near, one to Diana, another to Green Man.

Even better, there was a view of Cedar Knob. On a moonlit night it was a magical sight. The hill loomed in the distance, the highest feature around, the top flattened as if a mesa had been transplanted from Anasazi country. Something about it made the viewer feel adrift in space and time.

For ritual purposes the sight was almost as mystical as Stonehenge.

As things wound down, everyone hugged, kissed, and made their various ways home. Pen and his nephew Steve helped Owl and Lisa clean up the last few things and they started home themselves. Pen dropped Steve off at the house Steve shared with his mom, Renee. Steve barely remembered his dad. Pen's brother Sam had died when Steve was four. He was now sixteen and growing up fast. Renee had been living with Darnell Culver for several years now. Steve never talked about him. Pen was uncomfortable about Darnell. He really had no good reason for it.

Now Steve took Pen around and showed him Sam's old '55 Chevy BelAir he was restoring. The work was coming along. It even looked as if the car might be finished by the time Steve got his driver's license.

Pen admired the car and left for home. He didn't see Renee or Darnell around.

Steve was a cool kid and it was great sharing the ritual, but Pen felt a bit down going home alone after dropping him off. It would have been good to have someone to come home with. Esme had been in one of her distant moods, friendly, but not encouraging. Pen sorely felt the lack of a loving partner.

Nothing seemed amiss on the back roads from Renee's place. Pen reached his yard, fed Mau and Odin and unloaded the truck. He thought about the ritual and the conversations. No one had much to say about Dub Holt or Charlie. The murders were still too close in time.

The classical radio station was playing Albinoni's Adagio for strings. A favorite, but a bit blue, Pen turned it off and popped "Hondo" into the VHS. Bed claimed him before the credits rolled.

The Azure Shade of the Bluebottle Tree : Chapter Two

Chapter 2

Copete County is in Central Texas on what is called the Balcones Escarpment, about an hour's drive north of Austin. Roughly half the county is rocky brush country, the rest is fairly worn out farm land. The county seat is Cedar City, about twelve miles to the southeast. Roughly four hundred thousand people live in Copete County, about ten percent of those live in Cedar City, the largest town. On the map the county looks a bit like a frog about to jump. Old timers would call it a hop-toad. Cedar City would be around the heart of the toad. The small town of Shin Oak is close to the neck. As deputy constable of Precinct 3, Pen was responsible for patroling the toad's head and shoulders, the limestone and brush country part.

As a resident of Shin Oak, Pen was also the closest law enforcement for the town most of the time.

The town of Shin Oak boasts a population of a thousand or so. It was finally incorporated in the 1980's in a viciously contested election. The town hadn't gotten around to getting their own police yet. The city had a contract with the county to provide law enforcement. Usually that meant Deputy Constable Penrod Sadler, at least until something like Dub's murder got the attention of the sheriff's department.

As a deputy constable Pen serves warrants, chases runaways, performs all the law enforcement tasks related to the Justice of the Peace court for the precinct. A typical day found him driving all over the precinct, other parts of the county, sometimes even outside the county.

Today was fairly typical, travel-wise. Pen almost made it back into town by dark.

[/ScID]

[ScID:4]That night Cindy's Bar was fairly busy. Pen had a beer with Cindy Taylor and Melvin Insall at their usual table by the kitchen. All the talk was about Dub Holt. When Cindy found out that Pen didn't know anything she didn't she changed the subject.

"How are things with Esme?"

"I think we're on a break right now."

 Esmeralda Hernandez was a young widow. Pen liked her a lot, and she liked him, but she was cautious about how a romantic relationship would affect her daughters. Their relationship was on and off. It was a puzzle to Pen and a complete mystery to others, including Cindy.

“How long will you let her use you for a piñata? Let me fix you up, I have some cute friends.”

“Thanks, Cindy, not right now.”

Mel got one of his thoughtful looks, “Hey, that’s a good line, can I use it?”

“Not right now?”

“No, that “use you for a piñata” line! Cindy? That was yours.”

“Go on, be my guest.” 

Mel scribbled it down as he walked away, mumbling. Cindy said, “well, he’s gone for awhile, he shifted to writer mode. I have to be careful what I say around him, except when I want to get him out of my hair for awhile!”

"Knowing that can be a good thing, when you need it."

"You're pretty smart for a deputy constable. You oughta be sheriff!"

"Tell that to the voters!"

"They'll know better next time! Red hasn't made too many friends since he got elected. The ones he did have sure won't vote for him again. Everyone is wiser to his dirty tricks now."

"We'll see, I'm not sure I'd want to run again, though."

"Do it, one term of Red is all anyone can stand!"

"You gonna vote for me?"

"I hadn't been back here long enough last time, but if you run I might just register so I can!"

Two years previously the then county sheriff had self-destructed; too many episodes of public intoxication. Pen had been chief deputy, as well as filling in as captain of criminal investigations. He was appointed acting sheriff till a new sheriff was elected. Pen ran for the position at election time, but Red Tucker had done everything he could to link Pen to the previous sheriff's problems. Red's cronies managed to get him elected. After he won, Red fired Pen from the department and moved Buster up to his spot.

Pen didn't fight it. Precinct 3 Justice of the Peace, Sarah Beth Adams, had gotten him hired as a deputy constable soon after that. The constable, Stan Hart, and Pen had been fishing buddies, so it was a good fit.

Cindy had moved back into town about the same time. She was Faye and Elmo Taylor's daughter. She'd gone off to college after high school. Everyone heard she had been in the Army, then they hadn't heard from her for quite awhile. Cindy came home, bought an old gas station and converted it into a bar. No one knew what had happened between her and her parents but they rarely spoke to each other.

Cindy was different temperamentaly.  The Taylor's were always fighting with someone, Cindy was more laid back, but she had a core of steel that earned her respect.

    Pen thanked Cindy for the beer and her concern. After leaving he went by his place and socialized a bit with Mau and Odin. Mau was a blue/gray tom cat who'd moved in and allowed Pen to live with him. He'd been in his share of fights before Pen had had him neutered, and he'd kept the attitude. Odin was a German Shepherd mix, also rendered neutral late in life. Elena Delgado and Pen had found Odin in a meth lab bust a couple of years previously. Somehow Elena had talked Pen into taking the dog. Odin and Mau were good company.

That night Pen talked to both of them, made sure they both had food and water, and headed over to the Godmall for his security gig.

An oil bust followed by a savings and loan scandal had knocked the bottom out of the economy five years ago. The nearly finished shopping mall was closed before it opened. It fell to Realtor Jerry Patton to find a buyer for the huge white elephant. Jerry got the idea to offer the site to the Copete County Council of Churches. Many of the larger churches around the area were suffering growing pains. The mall offered access to plentiful space, three large meeting halls, tasteful surroundings, and shared bills. The center now boasted at least one each of all the major churches, protestant and Catholic.

The sign out front said "Copete County Religious Center". Most of the locals simply called it "The Godmall".

There were a few holdouts, locally known as "non-mall" churches, including some of the smaller and perhaps more fundamentalist sects. Old time religion was still alive and well in Shin Oak.  There were even pagans. Surprisingly they were pretty much ignored. There were enough of them in the open like Pen himself. Some were from the old-line families and they were just considered eccentric.

Nobody talked much about it. 

The Godmall was dark. There were no special events or services tonight, in fact there hadn't been for several days. Convenience aside, the mall was a beast to cool in the middle of the summer.

While most of the larger churches in this end of Copete County were part of the mall, air conditioning the whole thing full time ran way over budget. So did security, but a few bouts of vandalism and break-ins convinced them of the necessity.

Deputy constable doesn't pay so much that a little part-time work doesn't help out the pocket book now and then. The regular security guard wanted to cut back to part-time, the JP, Sarah Beth, suggested Pen to the facility manager, who just happened to be her cousin. Small towns, if you don't work with relatives, you don't work!

 Elena dropped by the mall. She brought a thermos of coffee and some of Oso's kolaches.

"Thanks for pointing out the shot direction. Buster thought that was pretty smart, for a girl!" She rolled her eyes.

Pen grinned at her. "Glad I could help. Anything else turn up?" 

"Not really, no shells on the ground. The wound looked like fairly small caliber, but high velocity. Maybe a .223."

"No hunting going on now, somebody should have heard a shot. Mostly .30 caliber rifles around here, though."

"No one has reported hearing it so far."

Elena didn't have anything else to share. They drank coffee together for a bit, easy together. El and Pen went back a long time. They'd dated now and then,  covertly back when they were co-workers. Somehow they'd stayed friends. They finished the thermos, she gave him a kiss and headed home, it was time for him to punch the time clock again to show he was on the job.

    Pen's duties led him all over precinct 3 the next week.

There was nothing much new on Dub's shooting. The ruling was death by homicide, no surprise. One bullet had been found still in Dub's body. Elena had been close, it was a .222 slug, pretty deformed after hitting the bottles and a couple of ribs but still identifiable. It was a bit odd that the slug had no rifling marks on it. That would make it hard to match to a rifle.

Dub's funeral was held at the old McAlister family cemetery. There was a good turnout. Charlie Adams had driven Dolly from Pilgrim's Rest. Charllie had worked with Dub a long time, and was Sara Beth's brother in law.

Dolly was looking pretty good, considering her reason for being there. Pen went over to speak to Dolly and Charlie after the service. He overheard Faye Taylor speaking to Dolly.

"It's a terrible thing when children to pass before their parents."

Dolly's sharp glance was visible through the dark veil.

"I'm sure you're right. I hope you're not suggesting I should have died sooner!"

"Well, no, of course not" I only meant ..."

"I love Dub, and I hate that he's gone. But, none of us know when we'll pass."

Faye made a hasty retreat, "No, of course Miz Dolly. If there's anything I can do..."

Dolly ignored her and turned to Pen as he approached. She nodded as  he expressed sympathy.

"I hope you'll find whoever did this, Pen Sadler."

"The sheriff is working on it, Miz Holt."

Dolly snorted, "The sheriff! There's a reason I didn't vote for him. Don't thank me, I didn't vote for you either. I remember you stealing peaches from my orchard!"

Pen flushed, "That was a really long time ago, Miz Holt."

"I expect so. Charlie says you've changed. He says if anyone catches that murderer it will be you."

The piercing blue eyes regarded Pen through the veil. Charlie patted her on the shoulder.

Like Faye, Pen knew when he was overmatched.

"I'll guess I'll just have to do that for you then, Miz Holt."

The two dismissed Pen with a nod and turned to accept more good wishes.

It was Friday before Pen made it back to Cindy's.

He walked in and asked Rudy for a soft drink. Mel was in the middle of his set. His songs were usually a mix of standard country and folk-rock. The regulars liked a lot of Merle Haggard and Waylon and Willie, but they didn’t mind if he threw in his own songs now and then as long as the couples could keep moving to it. Mel’s folks were well off, but he had gone native. He preferred to spend time with the Mexican hired hands at the ranch and the lumber yard.

Mel learned to understand Tex-Mex early, and his own taste in music was bilingual. He loved the corridas and could shift gears in an instant, going from “Okie from Muskogee” directly into “Volver” with hardly a pause in between.  The clientele at Cindy’s didn’t care, the dancers could dance cumbias as well as two-steps, and the drinkers could drink in all languages. If anyone was bigoted enough to complain, Cindy was quick to suggest they leave and drink elsewhere.

Mel ended his version of “Night Life”, and took a drink of bottled water. He played a couple of tentative chords to check his tuning, then went into the lead of something different, probably an original, Pen thought.

The guitar chords held a bit of border ballad flavor. Mel's voice seemed to ache as he sang:

You see this heart, upon its string?

It cannot hide from you.

You stepped on up and took your shot

And broke it all in two.

You didn’t have to break it, dear

To reach the love inside

Your love and trust is all it needs

To make it open wide.

This heart was made of potter’s clay

And shaped with sun and rain

It’s filled with love and all my dreams

And fired with joy and pain

Here it lies in pieces now

The shards are scattered wide

The love it held has scattered far

There’s nothing left inside.

There’s nothing left to mend, my dear

Without the missing part

Bring back the love you took away

And mend my broken heart.

Piñatas have no use when they

Are broken all apart

Come back, come back and help me mend

My poor Piñata Heart."

Mel finished the song, the last chord died away to near silence, and the crowd applauded, not wildly, but enough. You could tell they liked it. It was a song that might grow on you. He put the guitar down, “Time for a break,  I’ll be back. Thank you.”. He moved among the tables, speaking to everyone, and sat on the stool next to Pen.

“I hate you,” Pen said, but grinned. “My social life sucks and you get applause for it!”  

Mel took a drink from his Budweiser, “Hey, what are friends for? How are things?” 

“Why? Need a flip side?”

“Only if it’s good!”

“Not so much. A drive-off at the Stop and Save. Stan has me tracking down the owner of the truck.”

“Hey, not bad, I can rhyme truck!”

“Sure, but will Cindy let you sing it?”

“Probably not.”

"Yeah, probably. That one sounded good, though. A keeper."

"Thanks, Pen. Staying awhile?"

"Going home, see you later." A nod to Cindy, and Pen was out the door. He was bemused as he walked out to the truck. Mel had real talent, it felt a bit odd to know Pen had inspired one of his songs, but, on the other hand, it was a good one. Oh well! No security work tonight. No social life. A good night for a carton of ice cream and a good book.

Song “Corazon de Piñata”, (Piñata Heart), copyright 2000 by William C. Seward.

Outlining by Tarot

So, here I am. I have three bonafide writing projects going, and a couple more in stasis. All have found new life partly because of  some very nice usable writing software I've reported on before. All three main projects are also now nominally outlined, at least as much if not more than I have ever done in the past, using my tarot tool.


Here's how it works. Some knowledge of the tarot in general is helpful, but not critical. I have been taking classes from my tarot-teacher partner, Cat Dancing, and it has been a great help. The information is available in a lot of places, however. I'll give some basics below. For the most part this is directed only at using the tarot as a writing tool. Reading the tarot is a whole different subject!


If you know nothing yet about the tarot, think of a deck of regular playing cards. Usually, the court cards have pictures of the king, queen, jack. The numbered cards only have groupings of the suit, 5 clubs, 3 hearts, etc. A "standard" tarot deck has those same cards with two big differences. The suits are swords, cups, pentacles, and wands. Also, the court cards have one more character with king, queen, knight, page. This group of cards in a tarot deck are called the minor trumps. In addition, the tarot deck includes major trumps, a group of twenty two other cards including: The Fool, The Lovers, The Sun, and so on.


I have a lot of tarot decks. Most came from garage sales, personal gifts, and the local Half Price Books store. I used to collect the decks just for the art. Only a few do I actually read with, and not all would be much help for writing purposes. One of the best basic decks for this would be the standard Rider - Waite - Smith deck. (Let's call it the RWS for short) This one can be found almost anywhere. The selling point for this deck is that every card is illustrated with a scene. Some of the decks available only show the groups of each suit, much like those playing cards. The RWS deck, as I said, has a scene for each card. It is this that can give a new tarot reader, as well as a writer,  some clues on meanings of cards. I would consider the RWS deck the basic deck for this, although there are several newer decks derived from that one that may speak to different writers even more clearly. One that I currently like is the Cosmic Tarot, by Norbert Losche. (U.S. Games). The characters appearing in this deck seem vaguely familiar, as if they were based on various classic film stars. This goes a long way for me in suggesting characters. Another interesting one is the "Flash Card Tarot" by Linda Nadeau. This deck has some rather unusual but often useful illustrations on one side, and the meanings and description on the back. It can be a useful imagination spark.


Now that you have your deck. You need some way to interpret the cards. First, try just studying each card, see what it suggests to you. Your first and best guide is your own intuition! Most decks come with their own little book, sometimes a big book, that explains the meanings. Let that be your second resource. Not everything listed in the card descriptions will be useful in your writing, but some will suggest ideas to you. There are many other books online and in print that give card information. The ultimate would be "Tarot for Writers" by Corinne Kenner. (See my link below). Ms. Kenner describes each card and what is useful for the writer, as well as giving many useful "spreads" or layouts to use. Corinne Kenner also has a useful companion book, "Tarot Journaling" that is just that, using the tarot to journal more effectively.


Now that we have those basics out of the way. Here is how I use the cards:


1. Outlining a book - Give some thought to what you intend to do. Let's say you want to pick a card for each division of the planned work. This might be chapters for a book, scenes for a play, perhaps steps in the journey. Come up with a usable number. I like to think it chapters, if I am working on a book. Forty-four is a sort of average number of chapters for many novels.
Shuffle the cards a number of times. Seven times is supposed to guarantee randomness. I personally shuffle three times, cut, then shuffle one more time. People draw cards in various ways. I like to just deal off the top of the deck in the order they are in. If we are outlining forty-four chapters, deal the cards out face up one by one in four rows of eleven.
Some of the cards will be upright, some may be reversed. If we want added complexity, we can take the reverses into account, or we can simply see them all as upright. Make a list of the cards. I use the novel software I'm using (yWriter5 in this case) and note the card into each chapter notes. As you note each card, notice anything that catches your attention about the card that may indicate character, or plot, or setting, anything, and write that down as well. You might then look up each card in one of those books or resources and make additional notes.
It may be that some of the chapters thus laid out may need to be re-arranged for better flow. It's okay to do that. You can even discard cards that don't seem to work, and draw new ones. The tarot police won't care. This is your tool, you use it however works best for you. In my initial layout for my mystery novel, the first card drawn didn't really work for me as first chapter, however, I put is aside as an indicator of overall story, and used the second card as first chapter, and the rest fell into place pretty well. Don't be afraid to deviate. This is just a starting place, idea material. Once you have the larger divisions, the chapters, laid out in this manner, you may want to re-shuffle and draw cards for minor divisions, like scenes. It's all up to you. As for meanings, you can be literal, or imaginative. The Death card may mean a literal death, in your story, or it may be a major transition of some sort. The Fool can mean an innocent stumbling into the scene, or it might be time to look at things from a fresh point of view, to use "beginner mind" as the Zen teachers put it.


2. Character - You can draw cards to help define your characters, maybe even suggest names (with some imagination.) The court cards are most helpful for this, although any of the other cards can also suggest characters, or the character's traits. As you make a bio for your characters, use the tarot to suggest entries for those areas that aren't clear to you yet, background, habits, goals, that sort of thing. Simplest would be one card for one item, see what it suggests. Many times I use a 3 card spread. I do the usual shuffle, cut the deck somewhere near the center. The top card in the exposed half is the middle card. The card just below it is the third card, and the card that was just above it is the first card in the three card row. These three can mean many things, but I usually rank them in some sort of past, present, future context about whatever I'm getting a reading on. I just pulled three cards in this fashion. The Hermit, Justice, and the Chariot. I'm using the Cosmic Tarot deck. The Hermit shows a mystical guru type, almost a stereotypical hippy, sitting in the night near a lantern. A seeker. Also someone to seek out for knowledge, perhaps. Justice shows a woman with a crown between night and day. Scales of balance are in front of her, she sees truth. The Chariot shows a chariot, pulled by two wild horses, one black, one white, being driven by a kingly figure away from a castle. What might this mean to you? Perhaps it is a character, loner type, with a non-traditional education, seeks justice as society dictates, but is trampled by the established justice system.


3. Series - I projected my mystery novel into a series of novels with the same protagonist and settings. I spent a lot of enjoyable time inventing his hometown, and peopling it with interesting characters, why not make further use of it all? Besides, as I did all that background, I came up with a few ideas of other stories to tell. So, I thought, how about twelve books ? I did a twelve card layout similar to the "chapter" spread above. I let each card represent a book. Interestingly, the stories I had already thought of fit rather well into one of the twelve topics. In some cases titles were even suggested by the cards and the imagined situation. So, now I have a rough outline of where the whole series is going. That's good to have for any kind of series character.
For instance, The Hanged Man card came up. One of my ideas was a mystery involving genealogy. Bingo! Another card was the Wheel of Fortune. Ready made spot for something about the lottery!


These three techniques can give you a starting place. Enjoy!

Research

I've had several other things going on lately, so a lot of my writing has taken back burner. I have, however, been spending some time in Giddings, Tx, lately and taking advantage of faster internet capability to do more research for my proposed "Small Town Texas" mystery novel series. I'll reserve the name for now. I've been able to download pix of small-towns in the area, to add to my own collection.


I do have to admit that reading the "Sheriff Dan Rhodes" series of mystery novels by Bill Crider is also a huge inspiration. I really like his use of description in the novels to really put you in the scene, and having grown up in a similar setting, I can't help reading with a continual sense of "oh, wow, I remember that!" I hope I can come somewhere close to the same result with my own book(s). I have been working on just one novel about it, but in the process it has been interesting to build a fictional town and populate it with businesses and characters drawn from my own experiences in several locations in Texas. The area of my novels will be an amalgam of my own hometown mixed with many other towns around the state. I have developed such an extensive amount of detail for my "town" and countryside that it almost has to be utilized for more than one story. There are times that it is a pastime of its own to research it.


O well, it will pay off!