scurvy anyone?

I've been reading mysteries in my off time when I'm not writing, I mean writing my book..  It's like chewing gum for the mind.   But I worry about the dietary habits of these driven, dedicated people.  They just don't eat well and most of them drink too much. Did it all begin with Mickey Spillane?  He liked rare steak, raw whisky and hard women, not quite in that order.  Whisky first.  A number of protagonists (they're not all cops or even PIs, but they work hard in whatever role they've been cast)  have followed Spillane's unhealthy ways.  Steak and booze.  No mention of vegetables.  Ian Rankin's Rebus has a drinking problem so he drinks Bru - is that the name of it? - a non-alcoholic brand of beer, I gather.  Temperance Brennan is an alcoholic so she doesn't drink liquor at all, but longs for it once in a while. VI Warshawski eats and drinks like the men but she has a friend who feeds her quite well, and a favourite restaurant, so she eats. Ditto Kinsey Milhone who has 2 cooking friends: a neighbour who bakes bread and a cook in a restaurant who gives her huge, cholesterol-laden meals. She drinks California Chardonnay.  Left to herself she eats  tunafish sandwiches but never has time to shop for food.  No one has time to shop, or even go to the bathroom, unless something disastrous is going to happen or something to further the plot.  That's enough to give them constipation.  Well, there's hope for Kay Scarpetta - Patricia Cornwell's forensic medical examiner - she cooks and makes nice Italian food with good sauces for the pasta.  Then there's Stephanie Plum (I think) in Jovanovitch's books. One can hardly call them mysteries  though the protagonist here is a professional of sorts - a bounty hunter.  She doesn't cook either and she has a terrible sweet tooth. The men never seem to go home. When the women drop in to change or shower, they either tidy up a bit or let it all go. I don't want to know about their housekeeping or laundry habits.  Now Jack Reacher, he has it solved.  He just throws away his clothes when they're ragged, beat up or dirty and buys new, cheap ones.  Once in a while someone buys him some decent threads as part of the plot but they don't last long.  As for his drinking habits, he's a caffeine addict and drinks gallons of coffee yet manages to take 2 breaths and sleep instantly.  He seems to eat a lot of breakfast, nothing continental for him, lots of  eggs and bacon and pancakes (and coffee), and he misses a lot of meals.  They all do. And they don't eat their vegetables. I worry about them. 

 

into every day a little blog must fall

It's presumptuous, really, to expect anyone to read my blog, also crazy.  A blog is NOT like a diary, far far from it.  People used to write diaries as totally private expressions, unless there was a mentor, priest,  or parent to vet them.  Some of the original diaries were assigned  and supervised spiritual exercises or daily reports. Louisa May Alcott's mother used to read her daughter's diaries and write comments in them, too.  But most diarists guarded their privacy and some even developed codes so that their entries could not be deciphered.  Of course, the famous diarist, Pepys, comes to mind with his code, quite easily broken.  But Beatrix Potter had a trickier one to keep her parents from invading her privacy. I'm just saying all this because the attitude is so different now.  Blogs are public diaries. A day without a blog is like a day without sunshine.  Is that true? I treat mine like a writing assignment - oops - so I suppose my readers, if any, are like Louisa May Alcott's mom, ready to critique what i have said. Is that what comments are for?  I'll have to think about that.  I have not signed on to Facebook, I don't Twitter or Tweet; people have put me on LInk but I don't want to be chained down. So why am I writing a blog?  I think because I want to prime the pump. Go to the well.