And so... the end is near, by J.C. Kavanagh

The award-winning Twisted Climb series can be found here: 

https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/series/the-twisted-climb

Well, my year's long sailing adventure is coming to an end. 

Am I sad... or relieved? Hmmm.  

I guess it's a bit of both.

Me and my partner, Ian, sailed from our home port in Ontario last July. Since then, we've travelled 6,500 nautical miles (10,461 kms) to the Bahamas and back. Our journey has taken us through Nor'easters, gale-force winds, ocean thunderstorms, dirty/slimy canal locks, hordes of nasty knats, gazillions of biting flies, non-functioning toilets (that was NOT FUN), anchoring and docking systems that failed, etc., etc.

The challenging parts:

Storms. Batten down the hatches! (But check out that water colour :)

What?
Swimming/snorkelling/foil-boarding activities take on a new meaning when you discover
that the Bahamas is famous as the shark capital of the world...  

Winds and winds and more winds. Our boat is the green dot in Bahama's Eleuthera chain of islands. Normal winds are bluish or green in colour. Dark red denotes gale-force winds. The white streaks show the wind direction. Oh, the excitement during those few days!

Beauty after the storm. I've never seen an X-shaped rainbow before.

The best parts:

When we arrived at our destination, well, the stresses caused by weather/boat challenges were overcome by the incredible, natural beauty that is the Bahamas. There, you'll find the bluest blue waters surrounded by the cleanest sandy beaches. The scenery is postcard perfect.  Ahh... you can't help but transition the tension out of your brain, feel it creep across your shoulders, then slither behind your back until it drops between the crack, so to speak. Yes, the Bahamas is truly a slice of paradise on earth.

A Twisted Climb moonscape.

Spectacular sunsets.

Hiking on my favourite island.

Our favourite anchorage in the Exumas.

"Is the tide going to reach my chair?"

Ian caught his first tuna! Do ya think he's happy?

In Canadian waters - the new Gordie Howe bridge is ahead.

We have so many fantastic memories from our adventure and have made so many new friends. It truly was the trip of a lifetime. We are blessed.

Until next time, stay safe, and don't forget to tell the ones you love that you love them.

J.C. Kavanagh, author of
The Twisted Climb - A Bright Darkness (Book 3) Best YA Book FINALIST at Critters Readers Poll 2022
AND
The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) voted BEST Young Adult Book 2018, Critters Readers Poll and Best YA Book FINALIST at The Word Guild, Canada
AND
The Twisted Climb,
voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers Poll
Voted Best Local Author, Simcoe County, Ontario, 2021
Novels for teens, young adults and adults young-at-heart
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com

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Plot Twists

 

Find my books on bookshop.org!

In literature as in life plot twists happen.  Sometimes a character decides what you've mapped out is just not working for them. Sometimes a piece of crucial research throws your plotline off balance. Sometimes a secondary character muscles her way in with dialogue that is just so quirky or sparkling that she demands a larger role or even her own book.

Sometimes life plots and plans go awry too. Our recent summer plans were thrown into the winds when our daughter needed emergency eye surgery, and she needed our care in her recovery and with her active little boy. Family first, of course so...pivot and adjust all plans!

I love reading with my grandson!

Real life and writing life recently converged in a very unwelcome plot twist. My beloved co-author Jude Pittman died suddenly. It's still hard for me to accept that such a force to be reckoned with could be gone from Mother Earth. We were in the middle of working on an historical paranormal book set in Newfoundland, The Ghosts of Bell Island. She was so excited by her plans to write a story centered on someone a lot like herself called Maggie the Charmer. It's now up to me to write the story and dedicate it to my friend, ally and advocate.

Beloved Jude

I hope your plot twists do not stop you from making necessary pivots to keep adding your beauty to the world, dear readers.

My Amazing Research Trip: Day Two by Susan Calder

Please visit my website for author information and to read my earlier blog posts in this series

Our second morning in Karlovy Vary, Czech Republic, my husband Will and I took a guided walk of the central spa zone. In my historical novel-in-progress, The Water Cure, my protagonist Marie walks this route almost every day. Much of the current landscape would be familiar to Marie. Three of the city's main colonnades have changed little since 1914. They still shelter visitors who drink the local mineral spring water from taps flowing into old basins.  

Mill Colonnade - the city's largest colonnade has 124 Corinthian columns

The Mill Colonnade is a significant setting in my novel-in-progress. Our guide Barbora Volfova said that when the colonnade opened in 1881, many people disliked its classical style. I find the Mill Colonnade impressive but agree the picturesque Park and Market Colonnades might better reflect Karlovy Vary's predominantly baroque architecture. 

Park Colonnade 

Me and Barbora Volfova in front of Karlovy Vary's typical buildings 

Market Colonnade 

Of the city's five original spa buildings, the Elisabeth Spa is the only one that still offers bathing facilities to the public. Today's visitors generally "take the cure" at one of thirty accredited spa hotels that pipe in the mineral water. In my story, Marie works at the Elisabeth Spa, and I was eager to see the inside. Before my trip, I emailed the Elisabeth Spa, explained my writing and research project, and asked if I could view their historical areas. Director Miluše Bartoňková and her assistant Kristína Jabornická generously offered Will and me a tour of the building as well as complementary traditional baths.   

My protagonist Marie gets her first view of her future workplace on her first day in Karlovy Vary. She calls it a palace. Austrian Emperor Franz Josef commissioned the spa building in the early 1900s to honour his late wife Sisi (Elisabeth). 

Marie's first view the Elisabeth Spa

Miluše, Will, me, and Kristína in front of the building 

When Marie goes for her job interview, she glimpses the building's opulent interior. 

Marie's workdays as a bath attendant are spent in the spa's bathing area. I had pictured an enormous room with sculptures and ornate decorations, individual tubs scattered throughout, men on one side of the room, women on the other, soaking in bathing costumes and sometimes chatting with their neighbours. 

It turns out people bathed in plain, private rooms along corridors. Will and I bathed nude, which I gather is the tradition. After our baths, our attendants wrapped us in sheets. We lay on table beds to let the water's warmth seep through us.     

Chairs for waiting your turn in a private room
 

Miluše and Kristína took me to the basement to show me the old equipment for peat baths. These involved immersing your body in warm water infused with peat or mud. 

It all looks yukky to me, but having Marie administer peat baths would add interest to the story.  

Will and I left the Elisabeth Spa by the back entrance as Marie and the other service staff do in The Water Cure. Now I can visualize the outside lane.  

Next, we scouted lodgings for Marie within walking distance of her workplace. Will liked this building. 

I found it too large and luxurious and preferred this simpler lime green home. 

My choice will probably win, since it is my story. 

This day of research/touring provided me with many new images and descriptions for the second draft of my novel-in-progress. The numerous changes required feel daunting, but I'm excited to enrich the story and get things as right as I possibly can.     

   

Lazy Days of Summer – Barbara Wackerle Baker

 

 

 

What About Me?: https://books2read.com/What-About-Me

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The lazy days of summer are wide open for camping. Our first shakedown cruise is to Kinbrook Provincial Park to make sure the old motorhome is ready for adventures and our tiny clown pull-car still fires on all three cylinders. The park is only 2 1/2 hours east of Calgary. It’s almost a guarantee we won’t run into snow and it’s close enough to home in case something goes wrong.

After we settle on our campsite and the kayak is pumped up, we take our first paddle along the shores of Lake Newel. It takes a few strokes to get our timing right but soon we’re skimming through the glass-like water. No other boats in sight. I’m hopeful the birds are eager to cooperate because I’ve got my telephoto lens cradled in my lap.

When we head to the tiny island speckled with squawking gulls, the noise level escalates. Like a thousand toddlers arguing over a juice box. What in the world are they saying? And Dad says I talk a lot.

 

We skirt the shore and I spot my second favourite bird. The pelican. He’s surrounded by a platoon of gulls and a line of cormorants. As we paddle towards them, a few heads turn but since we don’t have to get close with my man-lens, most of them ignore us and continue with their sentry duties.

 

On the other side of the island a few gulls strut along a sandbar far away from the squawking cluster we passed earlier. And they have a couple of chicks with them. The pin feather fluffy young waddle about mimicking their parents.

 

Just then, a large pike jumps right in front of the kayak. We’re not in alligator infested water but holy smokes, it scares the crap out of me. Pikes are opportunistic fish and if they come upon a chick bobbing in the water, they’ll snatch it up and eat it.

  

I verbally encourage the gull parents to keep their young safe. 

The wind picks up. We head for shore and after the kayak is tucked away, I go down to the dock to see what's rolling in. Dark clouds darken the west horizon. The cacophony of noise from the island is replaced by crashing waves. And a gusty cold breeze chases me back to our site. 

 

Phones throughout the campground blast the Alberta Alert siren and broadcasts the announcement: extreme winds, heavy rain, potential for tornadoes in the vicinity. 

“Drive the car over to the Visitor Centre parking lot,” my husband shouts as he unplugs the motor home. “And park behind me.” 

In mere seconds the wind is so intense I have to use two hands to open the car door. The wipers bounce across the windshield as I creep along the dark pavement and park a few feet behind our RV in the treeless parking lot. 

The car shakes. I can’t open the driver’s door. Rain pours in through cracks in the convertible top. I crawl over to the passenger seat. It can't last long, right? 

 

Five minutes in, a red-coated figure comes from the side of our camper and opens my passenger door. He’s such a knight – a bit soggy though. I run behind him, get inside the RV and peel off my raincoat. The storm rocks the motorhome like it’s a dinky toy. 

Two hours later, the sky clears. The sun comes out. And we head back to our site. Before we can park, I gather all the downed branches and stack them close to the road for the park’s staff to pick up. 

   

So much for lazy days of summer. Much like winter and spring, summer also has a wicked sense of humour. 

Summer of Lies by Barbara Baker — BWL Publishing

What About Me? by Barbara Baker — BWL Publishing

Jillian of Banff XO — BWL Publishing