Tag: weekendcoffeeshare

Violating My Own Rule

Posted on by thefensk

If we were having coffee today I’d apologize for violating my own rule.

You can see it right on my blog … where I mention that I’ll talk about a lot of things, but not shoes.

But today, I’m sorry, I gotta talk about the shoes!

Our daughter is getting married in a couple of months and my lovely wife  is beside herself with preparations. The happy couple are both dancers and the bride expressed some interest in somehow incorporating her immense back stock of old, dirty, used, pointe shoes as part of the table decoration.

If you didn’t know, ballet dancers save these shoes the way sports stars save memorabilia from their playing days.  Pointe shoes are expensive and dancers grind these things into the floor, day after day, supporting their entire weight on one set of toes then the other, until … finally,  the shoes, as they say, are dead, and they get tossed on the pile with the soiled, frayed, and spent remnants of their sister shoes.

I have often been proud of my wife’s skill at crafts but I must say she has outdone herself this time … enacting a most remarkable transformation on these pointe shoes.  I was absolutely  gobsmacked when I saw the first one and they keep getting better and better.  They will ultimately be  displayed upright in a vase as part of the centerpiece for each table at the reception.
I guess you would say in taxidermic terms … in a more natural state

What do you think?

Thomas Fenske is the author of The Fever and the upcoming release of A Curse That Bites Deep.
Download The Fever for FREE all July … Details http://thefensk.com
Or even better, buy it and the other book when it comes out. He has a wedding to pay for…

Katzenjammer Kats

Posted on by thefensk
 Thomas Fenske is a writer living in North Carolina.  His debut novel, The Fever,  is NOT about cats, but it IS currently being offered for free in ebook form.  Check his web page for details:  http://www.thefensk.com

Caffeine-fueled Lamentations

Posted on by thefensk

If we were having coffee I’m afraid I’d be inclined to perhaps pay a little too much attention to what you were having. 
We humans are funny about our perceptions of what we spend money on. We’ll think nothing of dropping upwards of five bucks or more on a Mocha Latte with an extra shot, sometimes every day.  Sometimes several times a day. 
Look at smokers. To them the cost of cigarettes is a given. It’s automatically on the top of the pile. That’s why you see so many panhandlers who smoke and it is no doubt a part of what keeps them on the street. The first five bucks is not going to go to booze, as you might imagine, it’s going to go to tobacco. Maybe the second five bucks will go to booze.   

Ever watch people in a bakery? You know that old saying, ‘Eating with the eyes?’ Well, that keeps the till full … “maybe one of those, oh, make it two. Oh, and a dozen doughnuts …”

I’d take a sip of my plain, small coffee and tell you, “I don’t begrudge these people their simple pleasures at all … but,” I would ask, “Why do people who have all manner of iPads, tablets, Kindles, and Nooks, balk at paying  four or five bucks for an ebook?” 

Like any artist, an author spends hours, days, weeks, months, and sometimes years sweating over their work. It’s not just books. I’ve seen people balk at the notion of buying music too, usually complaining while enjoying a high-priced coffee drink. 

Don’t get me wrong, I think ebooks should be cheaper than print books and their value should reflect the resources they save. It is an immense savings, so on the other side of the issue … when I see an ebook priced as much as a print book I wince.  

“Overpriced ebooks are part of the problem,” I’d say after another sip.

Then I would confess, “But, I actually like ebooks for general reading.”

Since I got my first electronic reader, I’ve read more books than I’ve read in years. I won’t bore you with the brand, but it’s true. The trick I found is a good case, one that opens like a book, and feels like a book in your hands. I went with a bigger screen once but down-sized because I think a smaller size is more comfortable for reading. There is back lighting for dim light and you don’t have to fold down pages if you forget your bookmark. Email, web access, movie streaming, yeah, there is extra value there, sure, but I always go back to the books.  

Of course, if you’re read any of my blog entries, you know I have my own book out there.  

“Yeah, me and everybody else,” I’d joke as I took another sip.   

It’s in both print and ebook format. I’ve probably sold just as many (or maybe I should say just as few) copies in one format as the other. I make a little less on the print books even though they are $13.95 and the ebooks are $3.99. Voodoo economics I guess.  

When asked how much royalty I make I explain it this way:  

“About the same as the cost of a bag of potato chips; store brand; on sale.”  

After you purchased us each another muffin, I’d tell you the news.  

“I’m giving up.”  

And then I’d react to your startled look.    

“No, no, not on writing,” I’d laugh before explaining, “My ebook is going freebie for a while.” 

Then I’d finish my coffee and the last bite of muffin and add with a chuckle, “so now’s your chance, you cheapskate.”  

Thomas Fenske is a writer living in North Carolina. For information on his book, yes, the free one, check out his web page.  

Next week, you’re buying the coffee. 

http://www.thefensk.com

I just have to ask …

Posted on by thefensk

Public domain image, royalty free stock photo from www.public-domain-image.comIf we were having coffee, once we got all nice and settled into our (hopefully) comfy chairs, I’d have to ask you the question. 

 What question?
 Well, let me digress for just a moment.  The week began with me starting to work through the edits on my latest novel.  It’s only my second book, so the process is still a bit awkward for me.  I mean, I take direction and corrections quite well and, God knows, I, have, a, problem, with, commas.  But my editor zinged me on my use of what I thought was a common colloquial expression. 
My character, I said, ate with a coming appetite.  This was part of a narrative section.  
She retorted:  WHAT KIND OF APPETITE?
At first, I thought this was absurd, but I also trust my editor so I did some research.  I found only a few references, but at least there were some.  I was relieved to find out that it actually exists; I’m not totally crazy.  Heck, there is even a blog with “The Coming Appetite” as the title, but it was obviously not as common a phrase as I presumed. 
Perhaps it was regional, I thought.  I’m from Texas originally, so I asked on a popular Texas-oriented FaceBook page and my query generated an enthusiastic response.   Ninety-five percent of the responders had never heard of it. I was deflated.  Still, there were a few points of light.  
What is it supposed to mean?  It means you didn’t think you were very hungry and perhaps began to eat by just picking at your food but as you started eating you found you were hungrier than you thought, so your appetite comes on after  you begin eating.
 So … after another sip or two, I would ask the question:
Have YOU ever heard the expression?
 Oh, my character?  I rewrote the sentence … it turns out he was pretty hungry after all.
I’m not giving up on it, but I will likely work the term into dialogue somewhere, where it belongs.
Thomas Fenske
 P.S.  Keep an eye out for the new novel, A Curse That Bites Deep, due out this fall.
Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure to mention it over coffee sometime …

Donut Delight –#weekendcoffeeshare 6/3/16

Posted on by thefensk

If we were having coffee, it being National Donut Day weekend, I’d be inclined to read you a passage from The Fever, about a legendary Austin donut shop:

“The aggravation of Austin’s rush hour traffic spurred Sam to make a side trip on the way to work. Mrs. Johnson’s was a doughnut shop that had carved a niche in the collective appetite of Austin. If he drove past the shop late at night when the hot doughnuts were being freshly glazed, the aroma would permeate the air with a sweet and luscious fragrance that was impossible to ignore without stopping.

“My car starts shaking and then automatically pulls in,” he would joke to friends.

Despite its reputation, the store itself was not impressive. It was a low-slung frame building with peeling paint and a parking lot that resembled the lunar surface.

“A dozen glazed,” was his order. The clerk sauntered over to the production line and pulled his order from the warm doughnuts that were resting after being glazed. As he carried his prize back to the car, he savored the irresistible aroma and could feel a gentle warmth radiating from the box.”

More information on The Fever: http://www.thefensk.com

Is it the weekend already?

Posted on by thefensk

Public domain image, royalty free stock photo from www.public-domain-image.com
sit down, have a cup
Wow, how about a cup of coffee?  If we were having coffee, it might be time for me to tell you a little about my time as a barista.   It seems only fitting because, depending on where we were having coffee, the subject would come up sooner or later.

Throughout the nineties, I was an old-school barista at a gourmet food store in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.  I admit it, I was a coffee snob back then.  Ah, but we got a discount, plus … we ground beans fresh every day for the coffee bar, so whatever dabs of coffee were left for the day were free for the taking.  I drank high-quality beans every day for YEARS.

Okay, it’s our turn … you know what I’d order?   A coffee.
Internally I’ll smirk if you ordered anything else.  Although I don’t insist on pricey gourmet beans anymore at home, I’m still a little bit of a coffee snob out at a coffee bar.  Especially at that Ess-place.  Sure, if I’m dragging and need a cup of coffee and it’s the only place around I’ll pop in there but to me they’ve both popularized coffee and ruined coffee at the same time.

I worked in a simple, traditional coffee bar environment.  We had a full range of coffee drinks but nothing fanciful or made up.  We served drinks in real glasses and cups with real spoons.  It was thought that you’d sit down and enjoy your expertly made coffee drink so you could  appreciate the skill and care that went into it.

I’m going to tell you a secret that most of the current crop of baristas don’t know.  That latte that you pay $$ for in a paper cup?  You’ve just bought a shot of espresso and a lot of milk in a paper cup.
Here’s the secret:  a latte is a visual drink, meant to be served in a tall glass … meaning one actually made out of glass.    A cappuccino?  The same … It is also a visual drink, although it is a bit more subtle than a latte, it should be made in a large cup with a saucer.

The artistry in my lattes was in using the glass itself as a canvas, ending up with three distinct layers of milk, espresso, and froth, with the espresso just beginning to cascade down into the milk like an ever-changing sunset of subtle hues and swirls until the unwitting customer drops a glob of sugar into it and swirls it into oblivion.  Brownian motion, I guess.  A cappuccino has a slight dome of froth that is ringed with a halo of thick crema.  I would serve them and point out the beauty, proud of my work.
Sigh.  A traditional barista lives in such moments, each instant replaced by a stir and then you move on to the next order.   It reflects in the tip jar … I made a lot of tips, but not on to-go orders in paper cups.

What about all those fancy artistic flares places do these days, like drawing with the crema in the froth?   I’d never make it because as a visual artist I am a total flop.  I might be able to do a Bob Ross thing, you know, “maybe add a little log cabin over there,” but your drink would be stone cold by the time I finished. 

At our bar we didn’t make up new drinks like frapa-whatever (a pet peeve because people would come in and order those and since it is a proprietary item we’d have to pretend we didn’t know what it was) or reinvent a drink with a traditional name, like macchiato, forcing us to ask you if you know what that really was, a specific drink that is totally NOT like at that other place.

There isn’t much else to espresso drinks.  When you are training, you learn to froth, you learn to make shots.   Good froth and good shots.  There is a process to do it right.  The rest is really just recipes using those building blocks along with things like flavorings.  Don’t get me started on flavorings.  But those are really all the tools you need.

I always almost laugh out loud when I see a thermometer on the frothing pitcher.  Thermometer?  You hold a stainless steel pitcher in your hand … you froth by feel, by smell, and by sound.  If it gets too hot, it is too hot to hold.  Really.   You can smell it if it scalds.  It happens.  You throw it out.   A froth that sounds bad is like fingers on a blackboard to me.   Something is wrong.  Try again.   There is an artistry to it and it takes a while to master but like riding a bicycle, once you have it, you have it.

My advice to anyone who likes coffee drinks?  Get what you like, as long as you understand you are paying for a glass of milk.  Oh, and if there are several of you, count shots.  If the place has two double spout espresso heads and you’re ordering five or six shots remember that they can only make four shots at a time and the time between means several drinks are sitting getting cold.   There are four of you but only you are getting a double … everybody loses.  And keep an eye on that barista.  If they draw espresso first, then froth they are doing it wrong.  The milk will stay hot longer than the espresso, so they should froth first, then pull.

Ah, our coffee is done, time to get on with the day.   Thank heavens we didn’t have fajitas, Lord knows, I could go on and on about fajitas …

Writer Thomas Fenske is author of The Fever and A Curse That Bites Deep (due out in September) … read more about him at http://thefensk.com

A Clowder of Cats Over Coffee

Posted on by thefensk

If we were having coffee, I’d have to tell you about the kitten. “Yes, another cat,” I’d say.

We already have eight but this one just showed up about a month ago, living in the crawl space under the house. I was afraid we had a litter or something, it was so tiny. But it was alone. I waited a few days after I first saw it, just to check for more, or to see if it found its way home.  We have one outside cat, Buddy, abandoned by a family who moved away. He basically came with the house. He was the source of food for the kitten. So one night when I fed him I pretended to go into the house and here she came, right on cue. I was shocked at how tiny she was, I estimated she was no more than three months old. Smart too. She already had the food routine down pat.

I have some experience with feral cats and I knew one thing immediately, this cat, although wary, was not feral. She had been handled. Once the ice was broken, it took very little time for her to let me pet her and pick her up.

Was she cute? She’s a kitten, how could she not be cute.

Of course we don’t need another cat but understand this … all our cats are rescues, most from a feral mother who turned our detached garage into a nursery before I finally trapped her and had her spayed. Then I released her back to the wild. She came and went in the years after that, always coming back to hang around a little. Sadly, after about five more years she was hit by a car. I found her in the road not far from our house. She probably lived longer than she might have as a permanent unwed mother, but it was sad.

That’s the thing about five of our cats, since they were her kittens we know their story. Two others were adopted from a local shelter, so we know at least part of their story too.

 But this kitten is like Tex, our other cat. He showed up one day about nine years ago. He was smallish but the vet thought he was full grown based on his teeth. What a cute full-grown 8 pound cat we thought. His life on the road had obviously been long and hard. He’s a monster now, pushing 20 pounds, paws almost twice the size of any of our other full-grown cats. I assume his development had been interrupted by the rough conditions of his life on the road. He wasn’t feral either.

That’s the thing about strays like Tex and the kitten … you wish they could tell you their stories. I mean, she’s still a baby.  How did this tiny thing appear at our house, barely weaned?  How did she figure out how to survive?  How did she find her way into our crawlspace, then find a warm cubbyhole to sleep, then find food, and so quickly learn the routine?  She probably started out getting Buddy’s leavings, but pretty soon I think it was Buddy who was dining on her leftovers.

She’s headstrong and assertive and smart as a whip.  She’s a survivor.

“And,” I would add as I drained the last of my cup, “she’s found a home.”

I’m a writer living in North Carolina … for more information about me and my current and upcoming publications go to http://thefensk.com

Enter below for a chance to win a free kindle edition of my novel,The Fever

https://giveaway.amazon.com/p/2c2b70a3a7387f64

If we were having coffee …

Posted on by thefensk

img_5454If we were having coffee, I’d be complaining about how hard it is to sell a debut novel.  I’d tell you how all my author friends say the first book is the hardest but to keep at it.  They always assure me that by the time I publish the third or fourth book I will be on my way.  But then again, they’re not really friends, are they?  They are the competition.    

Still … I’d tell you that I see their point.  I’d finish my coffee and carefully place the empty mug on the table, then stand up and announce, “That’s it, then .. my next novel will officially be my FOURTH novel!”

Sigh.

Thomas Fenske is the author of The Fever
http://www.thefensk.com