ON PUDDINGS AND TARTS.

Today is my husband John's birthday (Happy Birthday, sweetheart!). So I've decided that this afternoon, I'm going to make him a Bakewell pudding or tart (I've yet to determine if there's actually any real difference between the two, or if some people simply call them puddings, while others call them tarts).

Anyway, this is a sweet that, according to legend, originated quite by accident around 1860, at the White Horse inn, in the market town of Bakewell, Derbyshire (some insist the pudding's been around since the Middle Ages, and that it was the tart that came about by accident in the nineteenth century). John, who's an Englishman, lived in Derbyshire most of his life, and he adores Bakewell tarts (as he calls them).

Unfortunately, the first one I ever made was an unmitigated disaster!

The last time I was in England, I bought a marvelous British cookbook, Traditional British Cooking (consultant editor Hilaire Walden), which gives both British and American measurements, as well as oven temperatures not only for Agas, but also for traditional British cookers and American stoves. The only problem is that the slash marks that separate all these look very much like italicized number ones, and on a couple of lines, that was the way I inadvertently misread them. So I wound up with way too much of some ingredients.

As a result, my poor tart went haywire. John, however, being the darling he is, bravely ate it, while trying to figure out exactly what I'd done wrong.

Since then, I've made a couple more attempts to bake this tart. The last one was nearly right---except that even though I'd set my oven for the correct temperature and time, it was still too hot, resulting in a rather burned crust and an underdone filling.

I finally consulted John's daughter, Chrissy, who makes scrumptious Bakewell tarts, and she gave me a list of instructions that I hope are going to cover all contingencies. *g*

So, wish me luck. I'm off now to don my apron and to embark upon my quest for the perfect Bakewell tart.

THE FIRST FIVE PAGES.

Today at Romancing the Blog, Lori Devoti writes about hooking readers within the first five pages of a novel. She says that:

Over and over you hear that agents, editors and even some reviewers only give a book or manuscript five pages (at most) to grab them. That competition is so intense, that if in under 1,500 words or so they don’t think the book/writing is up to par they will move on–slap a rejection in an envelope, or stick the manuscript on the don’t-bother pile. Studies show that readers do the same thing when shopping–they pick up a book, read the back, then flip it open to the first page, scan a bit, then either put it back on the shelf or buy it.

Right about now, some of you may be wondering how agents, editors, reviewers, and readers can determine whether they will like a book just by reading its first few pages. Many people will tell you that it all comes down to a writer's voice and whether that voice appeals to them.

But I've often wondered if there's a great deal more to it than that. I've actually long been curious about whether a novel's opening paragraphs hook us as readers has something to do with the kind of learners we are.

Do visual learners long to "see" description, for example? Do auditory learners yearn to "hear" dialogue? Do physical learners itch to "undertake" action?

I don't know whether any studies have ever been conducted in this regard. But I think it would be interesting to find out whether there is, in fact, any correlation between learner types and opening-paragraphs preferences.

I know that, personally, I'm mostly a visual learner and that books that open with description are much more likely to appeal to me than novels that open with either dialogue or action. But then, I didn't grow up with a bunch of technological gadgets that constantly made a variety of sounds or with video games that enabled me to engage in nonstop action, either.

But my son, Shane, did, and he's a physical learner.

Is the way in which we learn due solely to our genetics, solely to our environments, or to a combination of both? Would Shane have been a physical learner without technology? Or did technology encourage him to become a physical learner?

I don't know. What I do know is that he prefers books that open with action.

What about the rest of you? What kind of learners are you---and what is your own preference when it comes to a novel's opening paragraphs?

TEA FOR TWO.

Every so often, my mom and I get together for lunch. Whenever we do, we like to go to one of the tea rooms here in my hometown.

This past week, we decided to pay a visit to Aunt Hattie's Tea Room. The time before that, we went to Miss Emily's Tea Room. There are others, but we enjoy these two the most.

Aunt Hattie's is located in Delano, which is one of our historic districts. In decades gone by, Delano was a red-light district, with a number of saloons and gaming establishments frequented by, among others, dance-hall girls and gunslingers. Wyatt Earp was once a keno dealer there. Now, however, Delano is home to a number of unique shops and restaurants, Aunt Hattie's among them.

Miss Emily's is located in Riverside, which is another of our historic districts. In decades gone by, Riverside was filled with fashionable Victorian houses, many of which have been restored over the years and are truly lovely. Now, it's also home to several Museums on the River, as well as to the forty-four-foot-tall Keeper of the Plains, Blackbear Bosin's gorgeous sculpture, which stands on display at the confluence of the Big and Little Arkansas Rivers.

Even though our tea rooms are relatively new and not authentic, Mom and I adore them because they're quaint, charming, and quiet---just the place to have not only a good lunch, but also a good conversation. This is our time for mother-daughter heart-to-heart talks.

Afterward, we always go shopping. Sometimes, we return home loaded down with parcels; sometimes, we don't buy anything. Either way, we're invariably worn out at the day's end. Still, it's a good kind of tired---the kind that comes after a pleasurable outing spent with someone you love.

I always look forward to these tea-for-two days with Mom.

SIMPLE YET PROFOUND.

Last night, I watched the AFI Life Achievement Award: A Tribute to Sean Connery.

Sir Sean has always been one of my favorite actors, so it was not only nice to see him honored, but also interesting to learn more about his background. Needless to say, his body of work is outstanding. But what really impressed me was the speech he gave when he accepted his award.

During that speech, Connery said something very important---and I think perhaps surprising to many in the audience. He said that although it had taken him more than seventy years to realize it, his big break in life had actually come when he was just five years old.

That was when he had learned how to read.

He went on to explain that it was that simple yet that profound, that if not for books, plays, and scripts, he wouldn't be where he is today.

Like many of his generation, Connery left school when he was only thirteen, so had no formal education. But still, he had the ability to read all those books, plays, and scripts that opened so many doors for him and helped to establish his highly successful career as an actor.

Personally, I believe the ability to read is the most important skill a person can possess. Being able to read is a key that unlocks a vast treasure chest of time, knowledge, and opportunity. It can take us back through the ages of history or enable us to stand on the horizon of the future.

Sadly, however, there are still millions of people who are functionally illiterate or who cannot read at all.

According to the most recent National Assessment of Adult Literacy, approximately 63 million people in the U.S. alone have only basic reading skills, and another 30 million people have reading skills at the below-basic level. Fifty-five percent of adults in the latter category did not graduate from high school, and although those adults who read at the below-basic level were fewer in number in 2003 than in 1992, those adults who read at the proficient level were also fewer in number in 2003 than in 1992.

You can help change all that by donating money and/or time to any of the fine literacy programs that exist all over the world---or just as Connery's parents did: by ensuring that your own child learns how to read.

In the words of Connery: It's that simple yet that profound.

Congratulations on your well-deserved AFI Life Achievement Award, Sir Sean!

THE IRISH SEER.

Even before I began building my dollhouse, I knew who was going to live in it---an Irish seer. Spiritualism, fortune telling, etc., were all in vogue during the era of my dollhouse and widely practiced not only professionally, but also as hobbies. Table turning (also called Table Tipping), was a fashionable parlor game, and around the turn of the century, Ouija boards began to be produced, as well.

My Irish seer was to be a mysterious practioner of these arts, holding seances and telling fortunes in her parlor. Her name would be Morgaine, and she would be modeled after the Irish goddess Morrigan, whose symbol is the raven.

I scoured the Internet, in search of the perfect doll. But of course, there was none to be found, at which point I decided to commission a doll especially for me and my dollhouse.

During my searching, I had been very impressed with the work of dollmaker Diane Taylor, of La Boheme Dolls. So I e-mailed her and inquired whether she would be willing to undertake the making of Morgaine. Much to my delight, Diane agreed to accept the commission.

There followed a flurry of e-mail exchanges, during the course of which the design of Morgaine was developed. Later, Diane sent fabric samples from which I was able to choose those I wanted to be used for Morgaine's clothing. I also sent Diane some material I had already bought to make the tablecloth for Morgaine's fortune-telling table, so that Diane could match colors that were to be used in Morgaine's parlor.

Little by little, my doll began to be created. It was a fascinating process, with Diane keeping me updated with information and pictures all along the way. Morgaine's pet raven was completed first, and I was so excited to see the photos of it, as it was just what I had imagined.

Finally, there came the day when Morgaine herself was completed. Diane made several pictures of her and uploaded them to La Boheme Dolls. You can see them here, just as I first saw them.

Needless to say, I was thrilled by this beautiful miniature creation---Morgaine is only 5 1/2" tall (which means that in real life, she would stand 5' 6" tall). So, obviously, to work on such a small doll and to make it so outstanding really requires a tremendous amount of skill and talent.

Thank you so much, Diane, for bringing my vision of Morgaine to life for me!

Read: The Dollhouse---Part 3.
Read: The Dollhouse---Part 2.
Read: The Dollhouse.

THE DOLLHOUSE - PART 3.

Several of you have written to me, asking for updates on my dollhouse. I finally got my husband, John, to take some new pictures. The poor man actually hauled this huge creation outside, in order to get some full-length shots that wouldn't be cluttered with the furniture in our family room, which is where my dollhouse is currently residing.

We've made quite a bit of progress since the last time I blogged about my dollhouse. The exterior is now pretty much complete, including the weathervane on the tower and the installation of the four porch lights, which have been wired (John hard wired them---more about that in a later blog), so they actually work. The dollhouse on the top is mine; the one on the bottom is from the Dura-craft San Franciscan Dollhouse box, which shows the original model.

As you can see, we've made some modifications to the original---raising the roof of the tower, adding a dormer (which gives the smallest room inside a lot more space), and doing some extra trim. The crescent moon over the top door is there because I've named my dollhouse Crescent Moon House. An Irish seer is going to live in this house. I'll tell you about her and show you pictures of her in a later blog, as well.



John didn't realize the front door was open when he took these pictures of my dollhouse. The fact that some of the window tops are down, however, illustrates one of the problems with the Dura-Craft San Franciscan Dollhouse. The windows are very difficult to install and require a great deal of tweaking over time in order to get them to open and close just right. Three of them still need a little adjusting. Some people get so frustrated by this that they simply glue all the windows shut. But we decided to have them all work.

Here is another shot, showing the dormer we added. Right now, we have my dollhouse set up on a small worktable, which you can also see in these pictures. But eventually, it will have a permanent base, with a lawn and a gazebo.



Our next task is to continue work on the interior.

Read: The Irish Seer.
Read: The Dollhouse - Part 2.
Read: The Dollhouse.