Wednesday, July 4, 2018

Hedy Lamarr, A Beauty & A Great Mind by Katherine Pym



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Hedy Lamarr-a beautiful brainiac.

I noticed Netflix has a series or documentary on Hedy Lamarr (Hedwig Eva Maria Kiesler), so I thought to share my post of her.

Hedy as born 1914 (some say 1913) in Vienna Austria to Jewish parents, both considered practicing Christians. Doors opened for her when she performed in a risqué Czech movie. In 1933, she married Fritz Mandl, a wealthy armaments merchant and munitions manufacturer who was in cahoots with the Nazis and sold armaments to Mussolini.

Fritz was not happy with Hedy’s acting career. To keep her occupied and away from the studio, he hosted lavish parties where Hitler and Mussolini were in attendance. He’d take Hedy to business meetings where she listened to wealthy manufacturers and their discussions on how to jam an enemy’s radio frequencies, to locate and destroy their weapons.

Not stupid, Hedy may have looked like a flower to be admired but not acknowledged. At those meetings, Hedy learned applied sciences.

Fritz was a controlling man, very jealous. In her autobiography, Hedy stated he kept her prisoner in their palatial mansion most of the time.

By 1937 as Hitler’s strength extended throughout Germany and Austria, as he prepared to spread his rancor throughout Europe, Hedy disappeared to Paris disguised as a maid. She took most of Mandl’s jewels with her. While in Paris, she met Louis B. Mayer, and the rest as they say is history.

Or maybe not...

Even as she was beautiful, Hedy possessed a brilliant mind. She was an inventor and a scientist. She created several items and obtained patents for them. She remembered those meetings Fritz had dragged her to and she loathed the Nazis. She did everything in her power to try and stop them.

By 1940, Hedy had moved to Hollywood. During a dinner party, she met George Antheil, a man of like mind. He was an avant-garde composer. They enjoyed each other’s company and talked of Hedy’s ideas. When the evening ended, Hedy wrote her phone number with lipstick on George’s windshield: Call me.

By this time, WW2 was in full swing. The loss of men at sea each day counted to the several thousands. Allied ships were being sunk by torpedoes from German U-boats. 

Hedy and George realized most of the weaponry during WW2 was radio controlled. They got together and invented a “Secret Communications System” (US Patent No. 2,292,387) what today is known as a “Spread Spectrum Transmission”. If their signals jammed German frequencies, the weaponry would be sent off course, their munitions rendered useless.

Hedy and George worked out a radio frequency called “frequency-hopping” that could not be deciphered or jammed. They set up a sequencer “that would rapidly jump both the control signal and its receiver through 88 random frequencies” similar to the 88 keys on a piano.

For explanation purposes on the patent material, they compared frequency-hopping to a player-piano where the dots on paper are interspersed at irregular intervals. If someone is trying to listen to you, the message will be jumbled, undecipherable as if you hop around indiscriminately rather than walk in a straight line. The sender and receiver know what these hopping intervals are and can communicate. Someone who does not know this system would not be able to understand.

Their idea bloomed into an actual process, then ‘Hedy Kiesler Markey and George Antheil’ sent their designs to the patent office. Their patent was accepted but the Navy never embraced it. One obtuse fellow considered it impractical to stick a player-piano into a torpedo. Their idea was shelved.

But not forgotten...

In his 1945 autobiography, George Antheil gave Hedy Lamarr full credit for the idea. In the 1950’s private companies dug the patent out of the archives and began to use its science. A wireless technology called CDMA was developed (today’s WIFI & Bluetooth). In the 1960’s the Navy used frequency-hopping during the Cuba Missile Crisis.  In the late 1990’s the Electronic Frontier Foundation gave Hedy an award for her contribution to wireless communications.

Without Hedy Lamarr’s experiences with her first husband, her unbending dislike of the Nazi’s and her embracement of the Allied war effort, we would not have wireless communications. Oh, I know what you are thinking. Someone somewhere would have figured it out, but I say Hedy’s the girl, the one who spearheaded what we have, today.

Many thanks to:








Monday, July 2, 2018

Choosing a title by J.S. Marlo


Many years ago, I wrote a three-book series. Though I didn't have any intention of adding a fourth book, I grew attached to a minor character in the third book. I figured if I ever write a fourth book, he would be my main character. Well, over the winter, a story line worthy of him popped into my head, so I wrote a fourth and last book to that series. The first three books are being re-edited and the series will be given a new life, but--I didn't expect a but--I was asked to come up with a new title for the first book. The old one wasn't catchy enough.



To be honest, I really liked that title. I thought it fitted the story to a T. For days I brainstormed a new title, something that would match with the other three titles. When I hit a brick wall, I began searching for four new titles instead of just one. That didn't yield any results either. Actually I came up with four new titles, but my publisher thought they sounded even worse than the title of my first book. In the end, I borrowed a title I had reserved for my next series, Unraveled. I have to admit I really like it, which is the reason I had chosen it for my next series, so now I have to come up with a new series title. At least I have a few months to think about this one...


Choosing the right title is hard. It has to reflect the story, but it also needs to be exciting, suspenseful, easy to remember, and capture the reader's interest. Is there a magical formula that gets you the best title? No, there isn't. I list every word I think is related to my story, then I try combining them even though I favor titles with only one word, and sounding them aloud. I also ask my friends for their opinion or suggestions even if they didn't read the draft of my story to see which one appeals to them. Out of nine books, it was the only title that got rejected. I guess my record isn't that bad after all.

Happy reading!
JS


Sunday, July 1, 2018

BWL Pubilshing New Releases



         
              

                                  

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Grace MacKinnon’s widowhood promises little but a life of drudgery under her father-in-law’s oppressive rule. When quiet rebellion turns to opportunity, she books passage on an Atlantic steamer only to face near disaster in Halifax harbour.

Her future looks doomed from the start until with the help of a sympathetic stranger, and a chance meeting with Lucy Maud Montgomery, she changes destination and arrives on Prince Edward Island.

Her new found independence drives her to undertake a brave new adventure in a male dominated world, and a chance encounter with Lucy Maud Montgomery brings her a surprising ally.

Despite the challenges, Grace keeps her head and prevails, until an encounter with bootleggers during Canadian Prohibition threatens to topple her hard won success. Can Grace trust those she goes to for help, or as a woman alone in turn of the century Charlottetown are the odds stacked against her?
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Thursday's Child
Book 5, Heroines Born on Different Days of the Week
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On their way to a ball, eighteen-year-old Lady Margaret is reminded by her affectionate brother, the Earl of Saunton, to consider her choice of words before she speaks. Despite his warning, she voices her controversial opinion to Lady Sefton, one of Almack’s lady patronesses, who can advance or ruin a debutante’s reputation. Horrified by her thoughtless indiscretion, Margaret runs from the ballroom into the reception hall where she nearly slips onto the marble floor.
Baron Rochedale, a notorious rake catches her in his arms to prevent her fall. Margaret, whose family expect her to make a splendid marriage, and enigmatic Rochedale, who never reveals his secrets, are immediately attracted to each other, but Rochedale never makes advances to unmarried females.
When Margaret runs out into the street, out of chivalry it seems he must follow the runaway instead of joining his mistress in the ballroom, where anxious mothers would warn their daughters to avoid him.
Rochedale’s quixotic impulse leads to complications which force him to question his selfish way of life.
Entangled by him in more ways than one, stifled by polite society’s unwritten rules and regulations Margaret is forced to question what is most important to her.
_______________________________________________________________________ 
Darkness Descends (The Twisted Climb, Book 2) 

  __________________________
Climbing to sleep is such a nightmare. Jayden, Connor and Max thought they had climbed their way out of ‘falling’ to sleep. Little did they know that they would be pulled back into Richard Hatemore's dreaded dream world, triggering a new wave of adventures and paranormal terrors.
SHADOW OF A KILLER
DAVID ANDERSON
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Cal's past comes back to haunt him.  Then it comes back to kill him.


Calvin Knox didn’t do anything criminal.  He just committed a heinous offence against human nature a desperate act of cannibalism high up the Andes Mountains.  Even worse: the whole world knows the gory, shameful details.  After a year of therapy Cal begins to get some normality back into his life.  Then one day vengeance comes knocking on his door.  Someone wants Cal to pay the ultimate price for his sins. 

Cal is torn between running, fighting, or accepting the summary judgment his unseen enemy will stop at nothing to meet out.

Friday, June 29, 2018

The Burr-Hamilton Duel ~ A few thoughts.



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We're approaching July 11, the anniversary date of the Burr-Hamilton duel. During the Revolution, these two men were much alike, young, brilliant, ambitious brothers in arms. It didn’t take long after 1792 for them to move to opposite sides of the playing field.
Aaron Burr was born into a leading Connecticut family. He was a descendant of Aaron Burr, Senior, a Presbyterian minister and second president of the College of New Jersey (Princeton). His mother, Esther Edwards, was the daughter of the famous theologian Jonathan Edwards. he like Hamilton was an orphan, but the young Burr was rigorously educated by his stern Connecticut relatives. He did not enter the College of New Jersey when he was 11, but passed the examination at the ripe old age of 13. 



Hamilton had a far more difficult time growing up. This “bastard brat of a Scot’s tinker” as John Adams would have it, was always jealous of his hard-won “honor” and of his status as "gentleman." Thin-skinned doesn’t begin to describe Alexander Hamilton. At eleven--the same age as young Aaron was applying for Princeton--he spent his days in a St. Croix warehouse, perched upon a high stool writing letters and balancing his master's accounts. He earned his daily bread and board in the sweat of his brow. 



About five o'clock Wednesday morning, July 11th, 1804, Hamilton left town, probably from the area which is now Horatio Street in the Village and was rowed to the dueling ground. Weehawken is on the west bank of the Hudson directly across the river from the west end of what is now Forty-Second Street in Manhattan.  The passage across was near 3 miles. With a light breeze, and they arrived about 7. Burr and his second Van Ness were already on the ground and had cleared away some brush and branches to make “a fair opening.”  This was on the extreme southern point of the Palisades, 20 feet above the water, about 22 paces long and only 10 feet wide.

 On the way across the river, Hamilton told his second, Pendleton, that “he had made up his mind not to fire at Colonel Burr the first time, but to receive his fire and then fire into the air.” Pendleton argued with him, but Hamilton said “it is the effect of a religious scruple, and does not admit of reasoning. It is useless to say more on the subject, as my purpose is definitely fixed.”

The accounts of the seconds were at odds as to which man fired first. This is because the seconds had their backs to the duelists, in order to provide a certain level of deniability. Dueling was by this time illegal in both New York and New Jersey. If Hamilton threw away his shot by firing wide--as he'd proposed to do--he may have fired first. Logically, this would show Burr that he meant no harm, but, of course, it would also leave him at Burr's mercy. How Burr reacted would then be up to him. 

If Burr shot first, as Pendleton later declared, his shot would have hit Hamilton and caused him to spin about, clutch at his weapon, and discharge it harmlessly into a tree. The passage of a .54 caliber ball is not easily overlooked. Whoever shot first, we know the outcome.

“General Hamilton was this morning wounded by that wretch Burr, but we have every reason to hope he will recover.” Angelica Schuyler Church wrote to her brother, Phillip, In Albany.  It would be his duty to notify their father, the Old General Philip Schuyler, who was in failing health. Angelica went on to say:  “My sister bears with saintlike fortitude this affliction. The town is in consternation, and there exists only the expression of grief and indignation.”

Angelica Church with her eldest, Phillip

Oliver Wolcott, Jr., a close friend who attended  Hamilton's death bed at Bayard’s Mansion on the Hudson, also wrote to his own wife. "Hamilton suffers great pain – which he endures like a Hero.” He “has, of late years experienced his conviction of the truths of the Christian Religion and has desired to receive the Sacrament—but no one of the Clergy who have yet been consulted with administer it.” 

After the duel, Burr’s barge landed him and his second Van Ness at Canal Street, where, according to some sources, he simply went on to his law office as if nothing had happened. Others say he went instead to his home at Richmond Hill. This might have been wiser, because of the fame of both men, and because of the illegality of the morning's activities.


Richmond Hill

The Church’s dueling pistols—like many of the best in those days, contained hair-trigger mechanisms. Articles on the pistols have called these mechanisms “hidden” and “newly discovered,” although that speaks only to 20th Century lack of understanding of the 18th Century Code Duello and of the specialized weapons involved.   

In fact, Burr may have used these very pistols some years earlier in a duel with John Church, so he was more familiar with them than was Hamilton. On the narrow ledge at Weehawken, it would have been impossible to change a setting—the guns were always set up by the seconds “inspecting, setting triggers and loading”—without anyone noticing. Pendleton, Hamilton’s second, in fact, reports that he had asked whether Hamilton wished to have the hair trigger set. His friend had plainly answered “Not this time.”

The "hidden" hair trigger was made to seem like a big new discovery in a New York Magazine article, whose author insinuated that Hamilton had intended to secretly make use of it.  I will let Robert A. Hendrickson, one of Hamilton’s most passionate biographers (Author of The Rise and Fall of Alexander Hamilton) speak for his hero:
 
“Disenchanted as he was with himself, never able to rid himself of his sense of public accountability, if Hamilton had wished to survive (the duel) at all—a question ultimately unanswerable—the unlikeliest way he could have found to do so was by a secret trick that four men and all their friends, whatever their other differences, would agree was dishonorable. Worse than dishonorable.  Despicable. (And) "Honor was the subject of the morning’s exercise.”

Some years later, when questioned on the subject, Burr was quoted as saying that had his vision not been impaired by the morning mist, he would have "shot Hamilton in the heart." According to the account of the noted English philosopher Jeremy Bentham, who met with Burr in England in 1808 (four years after the duel) Burr claimed to have been certain of his ability to kill Hamilton. Bentham concluded that Burr was "little better than a murderer."

But Burr had his reasons for rage. His career had been blighted by Hamilton, who had denounced Burr repeatedly, calling him an “embryo-Caesar” and “unprincipled both as a public and private man.”  

In the winter of 1800-01, during the disputed election between Jefferson and Burr, the Electors had deadlocked, throwing the election into the House of Representatives. Thirty House votes would be logged before this impasse was resolved. Hamilton worked tirelessly to block Burr from assuming the presidency by writing to his federalist friends in the House, saying that Burr “is bankrupt beyond redemption, except by the plunder of his country.  His public principles have no other spring or aim than his own aggrandizement.” 
 As we know, Jefferson was finally elected, after a group of Federalists elected to abstain from voting, sending in blank ballots. For Alexander Hamilton and many others, the choice between Jefferson and Burr must have been like choosing between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea.
Thomas Jefferson
Of course, there is always acrimonious rhetoric—the self-interest games that all politicians-- both the principled and the unprincipled—play. Politicians have to do "whatever it takes to stay in the game." But unlike today’s short-sighted hacks-in-office, Hamilton wasn’t just thinking of the here and now. He had always had a vision of a mighty future for his adopted country. A top-notch administrator, he'd seen Burr party jumping and now fanning Secessionist fires in New England which he knew must be doused--by any means possible. "Indivisible" was the keystone of his dream of American greatness, and under no circumstances would he let it go.
Because Hamilton fancied himself a rationalist above all, the letters he left to be read in the event of his death show that he understood all implications of the upcoming duel. In the end, despite the claims on his heart of his wife and of his adored children and despite the creditors to whom he had become obligated while building his new home,  he would risk everything and hazard his life in order to destroy Burr and thus preserve the Union. 

That morning by the river at Weehawken, Alexander Hamilton threw his shot away and left himself at the mercy of his enemy. I'll have to quote Trelane, the super-being in the original Star Trek Squire of Gothos episode and end it here: "...your heroic Alexander Hamilton."





The Grange - and the elegant dining room 



~~Juliet Waldron
https://www.facebook.com/jwhistfic/?ref=aymt_homepage_panel

http://www.julietwaldron.com

Sources:

 Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow ISBN: 1594200092 Penguin, 2005 
The Papers of Alexander Hamilton, 21 volumes, Harold C. Syrett, Ed., Columbia University, 
1987 
Founding Brothers by Joseph L. Ellis, ISBN: 9780375405440, Knopf, 2000 
The Rise & Fall of Alexander Hamilton, Vols. 1&2, by Robert A. Hendrickson, 9780884051398, Mason/Charter 1976 
The Founding Fathers, a biography of Alexander Hamilton in his own words, Vol. 1&2, ed. by Mary Jo Kline, Newsweek Publishers, 1973 
 Aaron Burr, Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson, a Study in Character by Roger G. Kennedy, ISBN: 9780195140552, 2000 
Alexander Hamilton, Writings, ed. Joanne Freeman, ISBN: 9781931082044, Library of America 
The Treason Trial of Aaron Burr, by R. Kent Newmyer, ISBN: 978-1-107-60661-6. Cambridge University Press, 2012 



Thursday, June 28, 2018

Becoming an Unexpected (and Unwilling) Culinary Artist by Connie Vines

It all began with the color purple.

For clarification: The color purple, not the movie.

On and off, through out my life time, I’ve had a love affair with the color purple:  Violet. Lilac, Lavender, Amethyst. 

Never: Grape, Mulberry, Eggplant or Wine.  Those shades are too dark and unwelcoming for me.
This year I’ve been updating my home in the suburbs.  I’ve ventured into a beige world about five years ago and decided it was too, well beige. It was time to update the master bedroom.



Hence, my color swatches and floral designs to locate the perfect draperies, bedding, throw rugs. . . candles, fragrance wax warmers, and a chair and ottoman.  I decided on a dove gray chair and added a purple (with a touch of gray throw).  I didn’t want matchy-matchy, but the shades needed to depict elegance.  I wanted a light airy feeling heightened by the French doors opening onto the patio.

Satisfied, I even located a collar, leash, and walking harness for Chanel in violet.  This is when my husband began to ask me when school was going to be in session again.

Ummm.

Perhaps I was getting a little too fixated on purple.  (I came to this realization after I painted my nails with purple polish).

I always become a bit of a baker when I write. Creativity flows forth resulting in an hour of gardening, listening to music, that sort of thing.  Well, I wanted to try a new specialty tea.
Just when I thought I was ready to get down to a day of blogging and promo on my latest BWL novel, I discovered by tea kettle had scorched and slightly melted bottom.

Ummm.

Knowing my husband operates a gas stove like it’s a Bunsen burner, I knew what had happened.
I was out of gluten-free table crackers and breads, so I’d just drive over to a Walmart and look at tea kettles too.

Sidebar:  I am not a shopper.  I shop like most men:  I have a list. I run in purchase what is n the list and leave.  My husband, on the other hand, examines every item, carries it around, puts it back, etc. Then he wants to go to a second store.  (As you have guessed, we seldom shop together unless it is a big-ticket item.)  I do however, shop online.  Frequently (not excessively).  Usually only during season-end sales or when I’m on summer and winter break.

So, back to the story.  I located a lovely floral tea kettle, tea pot, and a 4-quart floral stove top cooking pot with a lid too.  All on sale, all well made.  All stamped beneath “Pioneer Woman”.

Oh.  This was unexpected.

I watch a few cooking shows but never “Pioneer Woman”.  Apparently, I’m the only one not familiar with the program.

No, I did not binge watch the show.  I looked at an apple dessert receipt and something called Funeral Potatoes and saved both to iPhone for later reference.

Was that the end of it?

Of course not!

Walmart has a website you know.  Walmart also has free, speedy delivery.  (Remember the master bed room re-do? I shopped online at Wayfair and Overstock for all but the chair and ottoman.)
Connie purchased the Spring Bouquet 12-piece dinner set, storage bowls, 2 casserole dishes for the oven, salt and pepper shakers, and a few other misc. items.


This is getting a little out of hand.  I’m adapting recipes (scones and Pioneer Woman’s grits) to be gluten-free.  I’m inviting family over this weekend too.

I was thrilled I located powdered peanut butter in the market when I went shopping.

I hate to shop, remember?

I actually went shopping (of my own free will) twice last week.

I’m becoming a suburban Culinary Artist, I realized.

An unwilling Culinary Artist.

I’m certain this phase will pass—soon.





My husband loved the pot-roast, Funeral potatoes, salad, and gluten-free dessert I served to dinner.
After hand washing my new casserole dishes this evening, it was time for a manicure.

My husband was pleased with my lilac shade of nail polish, too.




Happy Reading!

Connie Vines

Links to my novels:

https://books2read.com/u/mVZLor

amazon author central https://www.amazon.com/default/e/B004C7W6PE?







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