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If you're reading this newsletter it means you
have such good taste in literature. As THE HOUNDS AND THE FURY has just been
released, you can exercise your aesthetic impulse. As to
your other impulses, the less said the
better.
Where I live the Blue Ridge is turning red,
orange, gold and variations in between. Certain species
of hawks on their southern migration pause here to
spiral in the wind currents and rest. The sight of
hundreds of raptors slowly twirling is astonishing. They
talk among themselves, too.
The deer are moving about as all creatures are
preparing for winter, but the wild turkeys seem to have
the most perverse sense of humor about it. They'll dash
in front of you (unless it's hunting season, they always
know when) and then tuck up for the night.
THE HOUNDS AND THE FURY, the fifth in
the Foxhunting series, takes
place right here in central Virginia, and Sister Jane,
the main character, can read Nature's book as clearly as
I can. Her problems arise from humans, not animals,
since humans have an odd habit of killing one another
for reasons that they feel they can justify. Killing in
self-defense or to eat makes sense. Otherwise it seems
rude. Well, as usual, Sister winds up in the thick of
it. Why tell you more? If I could talk out a book I
wouldn't write it now, would I? Actually, I'm not too
good at creating synopses. It's a little bit like asking
a hitter at the plate the kinesiology of his/her swing.
They'll never touch the ball after that.
Read it. If you don't like it, fear not: there's
an avalanche of novels out there. One is bound to please
you. If you do like it, I commend your
sensibility.
If all goes well, I'll return again to Sister
Jane, Inky, Diana, Aztec and the others.
As I write this, my co-author on the Mrs. Murphy series has just
brought in a yellow finch, very much alive. She doesn't
kill birds. She drops them at my feet where they remain
still in a state of terror. So I have to pick this
little guy up and put him in the woodshed while he
overcomes the shock and then flies out. She's obviously
not working on her book.
Well, I'll be working on mine, and when not, I'll
be out there chasing foxes who flip their claw at you
(since they can't flip the finger). Such saucy
creatures.
Roger, Wilco, Over and Out,
Rita Mae | 
