Why I Watch the Tour de France

Karen McCullough Posted on by

(Hint: It’s not because I’m a big fan of professional cycling!)

One of the wonders of modern television is the vast array of sporting events that can be viewed live, no matter where or when they happen.

I like almost all sport, but time constraints mean I have to pick and choose which events I watch. Some are de rigueur due to their rarity and/or my rooting interest, like the Olympics, the World Series, the Super Bowl, and the NCAA Basketball Tournaments.

There are a few sports I don’t follow closely but enjoy watching certain events. One of those is the premier event of professional cycling, the Tour de France, which finished earlier today.

Our son got my husband and I interested in the race quite a few years ago, when he watched it at home. At first I was drawn in by the gorgeous French scenery (and that’s still a major draw), but this is the race that everyone dreams of winning, so there’s a lot going on beyond the obvious.

Grand tour road race cycling is an odd thing to watch. They are long events (three weeks), so there are long boring stretches when the racers seem to just pedal, pedal, pedal, with no obvious racing going on at all. Then suddenly someone will jump out in front, and usually everyone else will rush forward to catch up. Occasionally small groups will get away and sometimes stay away. For the most part, the last twenty minutes of a four-hour stage is when interesting things happen.

And yet there is always more going on. The more you learn about the race, the fascination with all of the permutations and tactics grows. Although there is only one overall leader, who wears the yellow jersey, there are other races within the race. There are contests for the best mountain climber and for the best sprinter, with places designated inside the race route for those contests, with points awarded for those who reach the spot first. And each day there is a stage winner, the person who crosses the finish line for the day first.  Those are all coveted prizes and competition for each is fierce.

The tactics can be complicated and interesting, though fate often takes a hand in the outcome. Crashes happen, often tripping up cyclists guilty of nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The bikes they ride are fine-tuned machines built for speed rather than endurance so pieces break, chains drop, and tires can go flat. Weather certainly played a part in this year’s tour with day-time temperatures on the course sometimes reaching over a hundred degrees.

Even though the race is contested and won by individuals, it is very much a team sport. No cyclist can compete without the support of strong team-mates, who can surround and protect him from road hazards, provide food and water during the stage, set the pace for the race, and even provide an extra bike to the leader should he (or she, since there are women’s races) have a crash or a mechanical issue. The overall contenders have to be individually strong enough to overcome all challenges, but the team provides necessary support.

This year’s race amply demonstrated the advantage a strong team can provide to the highest level cyclists. The winner of last year’s race was again matched up with the man who was a close second. But the defending champion lost half of his eight-man team by the end of the first week, either from illness (Covid is still a factor) or accidents. Last year’s runner-up had a stronger team around him to begin with and more of them made it to the end. When the stronger team goaded the defending champion with a flurry attacks (basically an attack is when a rider jumps off the front of the pack, hoping to get a lead), the man had to respond to all of them himself, and ultimately it wore him down.

A good recap of the race can be found here. (https://www.msn.com/en-us/sports/more-sports/incredible-vingegaard-wins-tour-de-france/ar-AAZV9Mm)

There are stories within stories. The race itself started in Denmark this year and the ultimate overall winner was a Dane. Two other Danish riders won stages. Another Canadian stage winner dedicated his win to his older brother who’d been killed by a hit-and-run driver while out jogging. Several young American cyclists made a good showing this year.

And, yes, there is a dark side. Even non-cycling enthusiasts have heard about the time when doping was endemic to the sport, and drug cheaters made the news. The sport has made significant efforts to clean things up, and testing is constant, but it would be foolish and naive to overlook the possibility that it still goes on.

But there is still that wonderful scenery. They take the race title Tour de France seriously in the television coverage. The helicopter provides amazing views of lovely countryside surrounding the race route, gorgeous chateaus, rivers, bridges, mountainsides, etc. It’s a feast for the eyes and a wonder to the armchair traveler. I’ve taken a few pictures of the TV screen with some of those amazing views.

Gardening in July

Karen McCullough Posted on by

Summer is in full swing now. In North Carolina that means daytime temperatures averaging in the high 80s with frequent ventures in the 90s. And the humidity is often so dense it feels like cutting through a blanket just to move.

Gardening is confined to the early morning hours these days, and it’s mostly maintenance –feeding, deadheading, weeding, and occasionally moving plants that aren’t happy in their locations. It’s not a good time to put in any new plants.

But it’s payoff time for a lot of the work of spring. The daffodils, tulips, lily-of-the-valley, and irises are done for this year. The roses still produce flowers sporadically after the massive bloom of May. Daisies, petunias, coreopsis, vinca, daylilies, and gladioli are in full bloom. Zinnias, marigolds, cosmos (all raised from seeds planted in early April), along with the dahlias are just now budding and should be spectacular in a a couple of weeks.

On these hot days, I love sitting in the shade on the back patio to read, rest, write, and just enjoy the flowers.

Goals Update – 2nd QTR 2022

Karen McCullough Posted on by

It’s the end of a quarter, so it’s time to assess how I’m doing on the goals I set for myself at the beginning of the year.

The first goal was to finish Falling for the Deputy, which is now done and released. You can get a copy here. Next up was completing the third book in the Market Center Mysteries series, Playing at Murder. I’m happy to report the first draft of Playing at Murder is done, and I’m deep into the revision process. That should be finished by the end of July. It then goes to my editor and a couple of beta readers. I’m aiming for a fall release. I’ve also started the preparatory brain work for the first novel in a potential new series. With any luck, I’ll start actual writing on it some time in August.

I’ve made less progress with the five short story goal. So far I’ve started two, but haven’t finished either. I’m not giving up yet.

I’ve also looked into doing audiobooks, but have not yet found the right narrator for the stories I want to start with. The search continues.

On the personal stuff, after a break for vacations and family visits, I’ve resumed the photo scan project. Having that done by Christmas looks reasonable. Likewise, I’m resuming the attempts to get rid of stuff after the recent break. Still lots to do.

May Beach Retreat at Edisto

Karen McCullough Posted on by

May was a busy month for me and my family, featuring a beach trip, visit from my daughter, along with her husband, and four sons, and a large family party. Plus we became great-grandparents!

The second week in May, we headed to Edisto Island for our annual beach trip vacation. Along with my sister-in-law, our two daughters, their husbands, and my younger daughter’s four sons, ages 5 to 10, we spent a pleasant and fun week in a large house right behind the dune.

We were blessed with near-perfect weather. Daytime temperatures were in the low eighties every day. Nights dipped into the sixties. Most days were sunny and clear. It was early enough in the season that the beach wasn’t crowded despite the glorious weather.

Three years ago all of the boys were intimidated by the surf and refused to go near it, but they’ve gradually been getting more comfortable with it.  You can see that the three oldest boys had a grand time in the water and the sand. The youngest, who is four, nearly five, preferred playing in the sandbox under the house rather than on the beach.

Nature Dilemma

Karen McCullough Posted on by

A couple of days ago I looked out my office window, which gives a nice view of the back and side yards of our house. Something small wiggled in the grass just off the patio. A mouse, I thought at first. On closer look, I realized it was a baby chipmunk.

He (or she?) was tiny, no more than a couple of inches long and looked ridiculously vulnerable, particularly since we’ve seen both hawks and owls in the neighborhood. No parental figure was anywhere in view.

My first instinct was to go out there and collect it, to protect it, but I hesitated and then did what most of us do when we need to know something these days. I Googled.

I read several articles on what to do if you found a baby chipmunk in your yard. The upshot seemed to be that unless it was visibly injured or ill, the best thing to do was nothing. Leave it alone. Mom or Dad is probably watching even if not obviously around. Chase away any predators you might see hanging around. Check back if it’s still around in a couple of hours and call a wildlife rehabilitator at that point.

So I left it and got back to work. An hour or so later, I looked out again, and it was gone.

I have no idea if a predator got it while I wasn’t looking or a parental type came around and shooed it back to safety.

I like to imagine chippie junior tucked back away in the burrow under our patio, where he can get bigger and stronger and ready to tackle the world.

A case of what I don’t know actually makes me happy.

April in the Garden

Karen McCullough Posted on by

The side yard

It’s finally here! The month when nature in central North Carolina covers itself in glory. Dogwoods, fruit trees, azaleas, tulips, and iris bloom in a riot of colors. Daytime temperatures are generally comfortable enough to make working in the garden not just feasible, but a joy.

Our last frost date around here is April 15th, so there are still a few days before it’s time to plant the annuals and summer bulbs, but there’s plenty to do to get ready. Beds have to be cleaned out, turned over, and amendments added. Old vegetation needs to be cleaned away and there are always things that need to be trimmed back or transplanted.

As I do that, I admire the plants already in bloom and dream of what it’s going to look like in a month or two. The roses are leafing out nicely in preparation for their May explosion. Hydrangeas, daisies, gazanias, and other perennials show new stalks.

I need to do as much as I can now. By the beginning of June it will be getting hot, sometimes too hot to work outside other than in the early morning.

For now, though, it’s glorious and I’m ready to go.

My Romance Novels are Mysteries Too

Karen McCullough Posted on by

I write both romance and mystery novels (as well as suspense, fantasy, and paranormal). Nearly all my mysteries have romantic elements and most of my romance novels have included elements of mystery. My most recent release, Falling for the Deputy, a short romance novel, is no exception. In fact, it includes two separate mysteries. The answer to one is obvious and is really a sub-subplot that connects to the main subplot.

The basic genre plot of a romance is fairly simple, as are most basic plots. In a romance novel, two people meet, are attracted to each other, but something—or more than one something—stands in their way. They each have to work on something about themselves or their circumstances, until finally they have each sacrificed and grown enough to overcome any obstacles. Or they decide that the other person is more important to them than anything or anyone else.

What makes a story worth reading, of course, are the specifics pinned onto that skeletal outline. Who are the two people? What stands in their way? How will they overcome those obstacles? It’s all about the details.

A mystery makes a nice subplot because it can create all sorts of obstacles to a relationship. When one person is law enforcement and the other is the chief suspect, a crime puts both protagonists in tough spots and forces them to make some hard choices.

I generally don’t do a murder mystery for a subplot; murder is too impactful and would take over the story. But vandalism, embezzlement, bribery, fraud, extortion, blackmail, robbery, and others can all make for effective whodunits as well. They’re still serious crimes with serious consequences.

In Falling for the Deputy, I use both fraud and embezzlement, with the heroine a suspect in both. How the simpler one is resolved impacts directly on the second and more serious crime, which had huge implications for the relationship between the two main protagonists.

On the larger level, most novels have some kind of mystery at their heart. Based on the genre, a reader may know that the story will turn out okay in the end, but how that’s going to happen is the central question and the reason to keep reading. If we all knew how the resolution would work out before we started reading a novel, there wouldn’t be any point in going on.

That’s why people hate spoilers for stories.

Why Baseball in Falling for the Deputy?

Karen McCullough Posted on by

In my just released book, Falling for the Deputy, Barbara, my heroine, is into baseball. She played it in high school and college When she moved to Willow Ridge, she volunteered to help coach a little league team. The coach for a local, not-very-good men’s team watches her, realizes she knows quite a bit about playing the game, and asks her to join them. She agrees to do it–with lots of reservations.

A few games and some conflict ensues. It’s a subplot in the book, but it helps build the main plot in several ways. The baseball games show some of Barbara’s growth in confidence and establish a connection between her and Chris Harper, the deputy she falls for. Her interest shows Chris that there’s more to her than just the elegant, sophisticated, somewhat intimidating surface. Her help connects her more deeply with the town, and a practice becomes the backdrop for her meeting with Mookie, the stray dog who adopts her.

Still, why choose baseball?

I’m a baseball fan. Actually I’m a sports fan, but baseball is particularly close to my heart. I grew up with baseball since my entire family was into it. I also grew up in a New York suburb, where even in the 1960s you could frequently watch games on television. My mother and grandmother rooted for the Yankees. I can still remember a particular September afternoon, sitting in my grandmother’s living room with both my mother and grandmother glued to the television, watching the Yankees play in the World Series.

And I also remember how they would call each other during the season when Yankees players Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle were vying for the single-season home-run record. A telephone call always resulted when one player or the other hit the ball over the fence.

My dad was a lifelong Dodgers fan until the team betrayed him by moving out west. When the Mets were born, he hopped on board the fan train, suffering through many sorry seasons with them until that one magical year in 1969.

Though he couldn’t afford to do it often, Dad did occasionally take me and my oldest two brothers to games at Shea Stadium, which wasn’t all that far from our home.

Later I got caught up in high school and college and kind of left baseball behind for a while. Skip a few more years, though, when I was a young mother with small kids, I often turned on the radio (at first, TV later) as background for other tasks. That brought memories of how much I enjoyed listening to the game. At one point we were renovating an older house and a baseball game served as a good background accompaniment to the work.

Since we lived in North Carolina, the game of choice (and often the only choice) involved the Atlanta Braves. My husband who grew up in western SC, a couple of hours from Atlanta by automobile, was also a huge Braves fan. We suffered through many losing seasons with them, through the seventies and eighties, until that magical worst-to-first season in 1991. By then, thanks to Ted Turner’s TBS station, we could watch nearly every game on television.

Last fall, of course, we watched in surprised wonder and joy as the Braves won the World Series.

Writing a Small-Town Romance

Karen McCullough Posted on by

I’m a city girl, born and raised in a New York suburb. My family moved to a Boston suburb when I was a teenager. After college my husband and I moved to Greensboro, NC, a medium-sized city in central North Carolina.

Until now, all my contemporary novels have been written with urban settings, usually New York, Boston, or Washington, D.C., places I’m familiar with and have lived in or spent time there. How does a girl who’s always lived in medium to large-sized cities write a book set in a small town in Georgia?

First of all, the decision to set the series in Willow Ridge, Georgia, wasn’t mine. It was a group decision by the set of terrific authors I’ve joined with to create this series of books. I didn’t have to agree to write a book in the series, but I liked the premise of the heroines all being part of the Hopeless Romantics Book Club in this town. I was also up for the challenge of working with a setting that is a little out of my comfort zone.

My heroine in Falling for the Deputy, Barbara Wilton, is also a city girl relocating to Willow Ridge for complicated personal and professional reasons. To quote a wonderful song by Clyde Edgerton, “She’s a quiche woman in a barbecue town.”  You can listen to it performed by the Bluefields here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0kjqYFtJlk

Abbeville, S.C. P. Hughes, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Fortunately, I do have connections to some small Southern towns.

My husband was born and raised on a farm in western South Carolina that is way south of the nearest city and even a few miles outside the nearest small town, Honea Path. Until he was a teenager, he attended Honea Path schools. Amazingly, I discovered the town has a website here! (https://www.honeapath.com/) A quintessential very small, Southern town, it barely qualifies as a wide spot in the road.

We visited my husband’s family regularly when our children were young and his family was still actively farming. We traveled to Honea Path once or twice and a few other towns in the area occasionally. A wonderful antique shop in nearby Abbeville drew us there several times.

While we didn’t actually go to Honea Path often, I got a strong feel for it just from listening to his family’s conversations among themselves and with others who occasionally stopped by.

I learned by eavesdropping how everyone knew what was happening to everyone else. When someone’s wife hitched a ride with a truck driver and disappeared for a couple of weeks, word got around so fast it seemed almost like magic. There was no place to hide when Mr. Bigshot was accused of embezzling money from his company or a town councilman was arrested for being drunk and disorderly.

I also got a first-hand view of how they’d rally around someone in need, showing up to help rebuild a house damaged by weather or bringing food to a family when members were sick.

Family ties meant a lot, and one of the first things someone meeting you wanted to know was who “your people” were, meaning your parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, etc. Because, inevitably, somewhere along the line, your people and their people were tied together if you came from the area. And who “your people” were said a lot about who you were, at least in the minds of many who met you.

Except of course, in the case of someone like me or my heroine Barbara, a big city girl from up North, with generational lines that go back only a few steps to some place in Europe. Once in the US, families scattered, which means the sad scandal of Uncle Ronnie could be so carefully hidden no one even remembers it now, and, although this never comes up in the book, like Barbara, I have cousins, even first cousins, I’ve never met.

I’ve tried to look at both up and down-sides of life in a small town. I see a lot of strength and good things there. Many things have changed over the last few years, with the spread of cars, television, and the internet bringing different attitudes in younger generations. Too many of them leave for better opportunities in other places.

Many small Southern towns are either dying or turning into bedroom communities if they happen to be close to a city. Something is being lost in that process, a part of what has made the country strong. I tried to show some of that in the book. I hope that many years from now there will still be small towns where everyone knows everyone else and they care about each other.

The pin below is a tour of Belton and Honea Path!