Hens Lay Eggs
food for thought
Artist Trunk Show Experience
The third annual Artist Trunk Show held on Saturday, June 18, in Tipp City, Ohio is the second such event I’ve attended. The first was the Dayton Art Trunk Show two weeks earlier. This event echoed the first in several aspects, the first being that neither I nor my friend and fellow artist, Cindra, sold any paintings.
The Tipp City event benefited from a good turnout of vendors, most of whom offered paintings for sale. A handful offered other products: turned wooden pens, handwoven garments, bead jewelry, etc. Despite my love of sparkly things, I saw nothing among the jewelry that I had to have. One of the artists closed up shop early in the afternoon, a shame because I wanted to buy one of her paintings.
The Tipp City event wasn’t as well organized as the Dayton event. I and another artist we know contacted—or attempted to contact—the organizer, but she failed to respond to both telephone and email inquiries. Luckily for me, she did confirm Cindra’s registration, so we went together.
The event occurred in conjunction with Vintage in the Village which was held in downtown Tipp City. That, according to my friend’s conversations with some of the vendors, was well-attended, but the people attending were disinclined to buy. The current bear market is having a decided and budget-straitening effect.
We lucked out with regard to the weather. After a sweltering week of high temperatures and high humidity, Mother Nature blessed us with refreshing breezes, comfortable temperatures, and blue skies.
Interestingly, I sold several books. (Hey, literature is an art.) I sold only two at the Dayton event, which made the Tipp City event a better return on my investment of time and effort. Cindra and I both noticed (and commented on) the steady trickle of pedestrian traffic that wandered through the event which was sited about three blocks from downtown. The Dayton event didn’t get much at all in the way of pedestrian traffic.
Signage for both events could have been better. However, both events are free, so organizers would have had to dig into their own pockets to pay for signage. The Tipp City event benefited from marketing via social media and two mentions in the local newspaper.
While Cindra and I sold no paintings at either event, the book sales were sufficient for me to consider returning to the Tipp City Artist Trunk Show next year. It also proved my hypothsis that book sales do better with less competition of a similar kind. I was the only vendor at the event selling books.
On Saturday, June 25, I’ll be at the North Coast Indie Author Book Expo in Elyria, Ohio. If you’re around northeast Ohio, I’d love to see you there!
Say what you mean
In a discussion regarding vocabulary, the aspiring novelist with whom I spoke dismissed my assertion that a writer needs an extensive vocabulary, saying, “I’m going to write books for ordinary people.”
In addition to her statement assuming that “ordinary people” don’t have wide vocabularies, I found it depressing. A writer without an expansive vocabulary cannot command brevity in writing. That writer will default to using several words to explain what he or she means because he or she doesn’t know the one right word that means what he or she wants to say.
Take any adjective and check out a thesaurus for its synonyms. None of the synonyms means exactly the same thing as the word for which you’re trying to find a substitute. They certainly don’t have the same applications. Let’s use “smart.”
Smart often means intelligent, perceptive, perspicacious, clever, and even educated. Along that line, it may refer to someone who has no or little formal education, but is wise to the ways of the world: “street-smart.” It also means well-dressed or stylish. It may be used to describe something that stings or hurts. And, last but not least, it may refer to someone with a clever and disrepectful attitude or retort: a “smart mouth.” None of those other meanings applies to the other synonyms.
(I remember watching Carol Burnett demonstrate the difference between a yell and a bellow. It was hilarious. I wish I could find it.)
Granted, the age group for whom you write may determine the vocabulary you use. However, there’s nothing wrong with inserting words here and there that may be unfamiliar to the reader and understood through context. That’s one way how we build our vocabularies. The other major way occurs through academic rigor. Remember vocabulary tests?
Words may be used in similar or even identical ways, but they carry nuances—sometimes subtle—that add depth of meaning and influence context. Not knowing what the word you’re using means often leads unintended consequences, like laughter.
Sometimes the error results from homonym confusion. Other times the error results from over-reliance on editing software which cannot discern nuance and context. Case in point: I recently read a book—a romance—wherein the author confused “lave” with “lathe.”
Lave and lathe, despite the similar pronunciation, mean different things.
Lave appears often in sexually explicit scenes. Except for this book, lathe does not. Applying the word “lathe” to body parts elicits cringing and laughter. Ouch!
To quote Horton from “Horton Hears a Who” by Dr. Seuss, “I meant what I said and I said what I meant.” You should, too. Or hire a writer or an editor who understands the nuance of language.
You know where to find me.
#henhousepublishing #writingskills #storytelling
Sun, sand, and peace

Last week’s vacation took place on Jekyll Island, one of the Golden Isles off the coast of Georgia. It’s a tropical place complete with palm trees, sandy beaches, sea turtles, palmetto bugs, sand crabs, and fire ants. The island is home to around 200 tagged alligators and a growing herd of a subspecies of deer. It’s between Cumberland Island (south) and St. Simon’s Island (north). It’s not as commercial as the latter and has more amenities than the former. Dolphins and sharks inhabit the water surrounding the island.
I’d originally planned the trip for January over the anniversary of my elder son’s death. Instead I came down with a nasty case of COVID-19 which forced me to reschedule.
I visited Jekyll Island over 20 years ago when my children were very young, the younger one still in diapers. It’s changed since then. The old, worn out hotels and condos are gone, replaced with newer, more modern facilities. The beach, however, remained much as I remembered it, albeit with fewer whelk shells to pluck from the sand. This time, I visited with friends, Cindra and Jessica. Jess is the youngster of our trio.
Our vacation began with lovely sunrises then segued into loosely planned activities. One day we took the historical tour twice—first by “train” and again by horse-drawn carriage—of the village established by the island’s former millionaire owners who used it as a winter vacation destination. Each tour guide offered somewhat different narratives, which were fun to piece together.
At one time, one-sixth of the world’s wealth was concentrated on that tiny island, so you can imagine the history it acquired through those Industrial Age robber barons. Through the clever use of eminent domain and foreclosure on unpaid taxes, the government of Georgia evicted the last members of the ultra-exclusive Jekyll Island Club and turned the island into a state park. Development, including the four golf courses, is restricted to not more than 35 percent of the island, leaving the rest to wilderness and the creatures that inhabit it.
We went horseback riding on Driftwood Beach on the north end of the island. We didn’t see many sunbathers or swimmers on that beach. We did see dolphins and fishermen and one woman shoveling sand to build a sand sculpture.
We took long walks on the eastern facing beach and enjoyed the waves rolling over our feet and the ocean breezes blowing over our sweaty skin. We toured the Beach Village, the island’s commercial district populated by souvenier and clothing shops, dining establishments, a small grocery, and a liquor store. By the way, during our stay, we never ate at the same restaurant twice for lunch or supper, and everything we ate was good. Some of it was really good. I highly recommend the Driftwood Cafe and the Wee Pub.
We spent some time relaxing on the hotel patio. On our side of the hotel’s two wings, each room had a small patio equipped with plastic Adirondack chairs and tiny matching tables. The chairs were uncomfortable, but the tables were just large enough to hold one easel each. We painted, too, our artwork reminiscent of island views.
As all good things must come to an end, so must my unplugged vacation. On the drive back home, Cindra’s GPS sent us in an unexpected direction which we decided to follow for one last adventure. It’s a good thing we did, because her car died in Wheelersburg, Ohio. We made the acquaintance of Mike, Brandy, Dale, and Wilbur who all offered kindness, assurances of safety, and assistance while we waited for the AAA tow truck. Had we ignored the GPS and stopped at a rest stop, we would not have fared so well, I’m sure.
I brought my Kindle for reading, but instead read actual printed books. I used my cell phone to keep in touch with my husband, but for little else. I did not check email, Facebook, or other social media. In short, I was about as unplugged as one can get these days … and it was good. Peaceful. Quiet.
Author
Hard boiled, scrambled, over easy, and sunny side up: eggs are the musings of Holly Bargo, the pseudonym for the author.
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Karen (Holly)
Blog Swaps
Looking for a place to swap blogs? Holly Bargo at Hen House Publishing is happy to reciprocate Blog Swaps in 2019.
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