The Woe of a Woman Traveler—and Writer By Andrea Downing

I’ve had several road trips and other vacations with my darling daughter and one thing we’ve found along the way is that women travelers are not treated particularly well.  On one road trip we were increasingly upset by the fact we seemed to be invisible, as if some magic spell had been cast on us.  Servers ignored us constantly and things came to a head in Santa Fe, NM.  We had a reservation at what was supposedly an excellent restaurant with good reviews; it sounded particularly interesting because an art gallery was attached and I love looking at paintings—and, on occasion, buying them.  When we got to the restaurant we were told our table wasn’t quite ready and maybe we would like to walk around the gallery.  I could see almost immediately that the art there wasn’t our thing.  The gallery was arranged so that you walked through from one end back to the reception desk.  At that point, I was asked if there was anything I was interested in purchasing.  My negative reply, as sweetly put as it was, was greeted with disgruntlement, and we were shown to our table…and there we sat.  Dinner took over two hours, we closed the place down, and were completely ignored on departure despite the fact staff were gathered in the entry. Somehow we doubted that treatment would have been applied to men.

 This episode brought things to a head for us.  Nursing our aggravation, we put our woes to the female bartender at our hotel. ‘It’s because they think you won’t tip well,’ she informed us. ‘Women on their own don’t tip as well as men.’ Okkkk, but in actual fact, despite the lousy service I foolishly left a good tip.  Won’t do that again!  I’ve learned my lesson. But then, you see, it becomes self-perpetuating.  They think women are lousy tippers, give bad service and….  You get my point.

  Now my daughter is married and I venture off, on occasion, alone. Since I’m that much older, I seem to get help more often and even have the odd waiter (odd indeed) flirting with me—maybe in search of that better tip.  But I’ve also come across a new problem of the solitary woman traveler.  Last week I had to sleep with the lights on as mice ran around my lovely national park cabin.  I saw at least two, high speed little critters they were.  I figure a man would most likely have just gone back to sleep.

The difference between men and women has been playing out in the news as never before, but as romance writers we’re faced with it even as our fingers hit the keyboard.  While I’d like to think men were reading romance in numbers equal to women, it’s doubtful.  And then there’s even a genre called ‘Women’s Lit.’  I don’t see one called ‘Men’s Lit.’  Mysteries and thrillers? Westerns?  All right, I get it. Shelving in bookstores or divisions in the internet stores.  

What would we call Women’s Lit. if we took the woman out of it? and why should servers think women are lousy tippers?

As I leave these questions float out in the ether of cyberspace, let me also bring your attention to the  paranormal of From the Files of Nat Tremayne:  Two Tales of Hauntings in the Old West. If you’re looking forward to Halloween as I am, float on over to https://www.amazon.com/Files-Nat-Tremayne-Tales-Hauntings-ebook/dp/B0767HWT6S/ for a spooky read.

The Wild West gets even wilder when Nat Tremayne sends out his agents from Psychic Specters Investigations offices in St. Louis and Denver. Across country and across time, these agents will stop at nothing to unravel the mysteries that beset poor unsuspecting ranchers and cowboys who have no idea what they’re seeing . . .or not, as the case may be.
In The Ghost and The Bridegroom, P.S.I. Agent Healy Harrison is sent to Tucson to rid a rancher of the ghost in the bedroom interfering in his marriage to a mail-order bride. Healy doesn’t think she’s destined for romance—until she meets Pinkerton detective Aaron Turrell. But when their two cases dovetail, will their newfound love survive the ultimate showdown the between mortal and immortal.
In Long A Ghost and Far Away, agent Dudley Worksop aims to unravel the mystery of Colby Gates’ dead wife. Lizzie not only seems to have reappeared as a ghost, but has time traveled from 2016 to the 1800s. Can revenge be had for her murder? And can the couple be reunited across country and across time?

Some Like It Hot by Betsy Ashton

This month we write about the opposites, hot and cold. This applies to writers as well as everyone else. You'll notice I put writers in their own category. We are weird. We actually listen to and heed the voices in our heads. We make up things and think they are true. We make up people and inhabit their skins. We think this is normal. Psychiatrists think those who inhabit imaginary castles in the air are neurotic. And then these self-same psychiatrists charge us rent for those castles.

Okay, enough.

As a writer, I dabble with different genres, non-genres, characters, plots and settings. I play with voices, not in my head but on paper. I turned my second Mad Max manuscript into my agent at the beginning of this month. I needed a break from writing a series. I pulled out two manuscripts at the opposite end of the genre spectrum. Today's post is about the hot end, the yang of yin-yang symbology.

Annie is a comfortably married partner in a security consultancy. Her business partner introduces her to a computer genius. Tall, lean, rather plain but interesting face, uncomfortable in social settings, Annie is expected to hire this guy, bring him to clients and deliver new business contracts in cyber-security.

So far, so good. This guy is like a barn-yard collie, eager to please, but socially inept. Annie won't let him out of her sight when a client is around. She's afraid he'll promise something outrageous. Worse, as she gets to know him, she's afraid he'll be able to deliver what he promises too easily. She wants to keep his talent inside her firm.

Trips to London let the two step out of their mentor-mentee, boss-employee roles. Attraction comes through intellectual compatibility, not through hot pulses and heaving bosoms. Throw in an unhappy non-marriage (his) and a comfortable but not passionate marriage (hers), take them to London again, add seasonings, stir and bring to a boil. She discovers his other hidden talent.

Fun to write the hot sex scenes. More fun to write about the conflict, the guilt, the desire both feel when apart. So, this can't be a genre romance, because the principals are married to other people. It probably wouldn't work for traditional publishers even if they weren't married. Annie is in her mid-forties. The collie is 38. She's not a cougar. She's not a predator. He's vulnerable. He's honorable.

Hmm. A woman of a certain age. Hmm, love blooming where it shouldn't. Begs to find an audience.

Regardless of what happens, this has been a welcome respite from the series. It's been fun to write. Who know, maybe I'll get far enough to ask for beta readers. Maybe not.

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Many thanks to my readers who make this book a success. Many thanks for their kind words, their reviews, their offers of future plot twists.

Mad Max Unintended Consequences is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Or ask your local library to add it to its collection.