My Amazing Research Trip: Day One by Susan Calder

Please visit my website www.susancalder.com for information on me and my writing

In May, my husband Will and I travelled to Karlovy Vary, Czechia, to research my novel-in-progress, which is set in that spa city on the brink of World War One. A few months before the trip, I emailed the Karlovy Vary Municipal Library and the Karlovy Vary Museum, explained my project, and asked their advice on how to prepare for my four-day visit.    

Librarian Kateřina Krieglsteinová recommended that I search the library's online catalogue and send her a list of books that interested me so she could have them ready when I arrived. My first morning in Karlovy Vary, she presented me with a stack of twenty-one books, none of which are available to me in North America. 

Will and I poured through the books and quickly dealt with a half dozen either because we could grab the pertinent information easily or we decided the text was too dense to explore during our limited time. Most of the books were written in Czech. While my maternal grandparents immigrated to Canada from (then) Czechoslovakia after WWI, I don't speak the language. 

Translation apps are a godsend and old photographs speak thousands of words.   

Kateřina let me take the remaining books to my hotel. Somehow, in the midst of my other research and touring, I managed to peruse them all during my next three days -- who needs sleep? I took over 250 photographs of text and historical pictures that portray the city during the era of my story.  

After lunch that first day, Will and I met with historians David Čech, Jan Nedvěd, Lukáš Svoboda, and Lukáš' dog in their office in an apartment building separate from the Karlovy Vary Museum. We spent almost two hours talking about life in Karlovy Vary (aka Karlsbad in German) during the Golden Age of the Great Spa Towns of Europe. Eleven of those towns including Karlovy Vary are now a transnational UNESCO World Heritage Site.  

At the end of our productive talk, I thanked the historians for giving me their time. They said it was part of their job to assist anyone interested in the town's history. I further imposed on their generosity by leaving them a bunch of additional questions. Since my return home, David has sent me detailed replies that will make my story more authentic. 

Next, we checked into our spa hotel and scurried back to the library in pouring rain for my 5:00 pm informal talk with library readers. Kateřina had arranged for a translator and created posters in Czech and English to promote the event. 

 

We agreed on a question-and-answer format. Kateřina posed questions, the translator restated them in English, I replied, and the translator repeated my answers in Czech for Kateřina and the audience. I'm afraid I made the translator's job difficult by rambling on rather than pausing in the middle of my answers. Being translated is an acquired skill.     

To my surprise, Kateřina had purchased two of my novels online for the library. I donated a third book, and now my novels live overseas in the Karlovy Vary Library. One attendee had already read my latest novel, A Killer Whisky, and had purchased one of my earlier books, which she asked me to sign. 

I was also surprised to learn that the Karlovy Vary library is administered by the city's Tourism Information Centre. Kateřina told the tourism director about my project, and he invited me to his office for coffee. He explained that their main markets for long-term spa visits are Czechs, Germans, and Russians living in Germany. When my novel is published, he would like to arrange for a Czech translation to encourage interest in longer stays. Would I be open to this? 

Wow! I'd assumed I was writing this book for my usual English-speaking-largely-Canadian readers.  Translation would extend its reach. I said I'd do my best to make this happen.  

  

Teplá River, Karlovy Vary

On their website, the Karlovy Vary Library posted a nice writeup about my speaker event  with a photo of me and my interpreter. You can read it in English with their pop-up translation app.  

 

    

 

A Crab Tale - By Barbara Wackerle Baker

 

https://www.amazon.ca/stores/author/B0BMTM18PW

Barnes and Noble 

The first evening of our vacation on the west coast of Vancouver Island we went down to the docks. A man and three kids (two young girls and a teen-ageish boy) stood peering into the water. Two plastic five-gallon pails, a backpack, a small speaker playing catchy dance tunes and a variety of traps attached to ropes were lined up behind them.

You know me, I have to ask. “What are you guys doing?”

“Crabbing.” The man swings the rope attached to his trap back and forth in the air before he releases it into the waves.

“Cool. We’re from Calgary so,” I point at their paraphernalia, “this is new to us.”

And away he goes.

“The kids and I usually come down after supper.”

“Not when it’s raining,” his young daughter pipes in.

“I stand corrected. Except when it’s raining.” He tips his head at her. “We turn on the tunes so the girls can sing and dance when they get bored and Colton and I see what we can catch.

He points his thumb at his son. “We dance less and crab more.”

The older girl laughs as she drops her trap into the water. “That’s because they’re horrible dancers.”

“Crab lesson number one. Only keep male crabs.” The Dad puts his hand in the bucket of water and pulls out a crab. “You tell their sex by flipping them over. See this?” He points to a lighthouse looking shape on the crab’s underbelly. “He’s a male. That’s his pointy penis.” 

 

Both girls put a hand over their mouth and giggle.

“I don’t have a female one to show you, but their undersides look more like a beehive.” He puts the crab back in the pail. “You can only keep Dungeness crabs that are six-and-a-half-inches or larger and Red Rock crabs that are four-and-a-half-inches or more.” He holds one up. “This one’s a Dungeness and he's keeper.” 

 

There’s an excited whoop from Colton at the other end of the wharf. 

“I got a big one.” He plucks the crab out of the cage and there’s a screech - from Colton not the crab. Colton rushes towards his dad with the crab securely attached to his thumb. 

“Stay still or he’ll pinch harder,” Dad says as he grabs the pail of water full of crabs and sets it in front of Colton. “He’s got you good.” 

“It hurts.” Colton bites his bottom lip. 

Dad supports the underbelly of the crab and lowers Colton’s hand into the bucket. When the crab hits the water, it lets go and scurries under the other crabs. Colton waves his hand in the air, and I go over to check out his wound. Four deep crescent shaped cuts bleed as he squeezes the tip of his thumb. 

One of his sisters brings a bottle of antiseptic. “This is gonna hurt.” She smiles. 

“Jerk.” Colton closes his eyes. 

“Be nice.” Dad shakes a finger at them. “Both of you.” 

Colton bites his bottom lip again and winces as his sister pours on the pain. 

“Don’t put it in your mouth,” she says. 

He rolls his eyes at her and walks away. 

“You have to grab them like this.” Dad demonstrates proper crab grabbing technique. “They’re fast and aggressive. It’s easy to get pinched.” 

 

“There’s Sunny,” the youngest daughter shouts as she hip hops across the wharf and points in the water. 

 

We all stare ... and as if on cue - a long eye lashed seal pops their head up as they glide by and then ducks under the next wave. 

“That’s a great name,” I say. “She’s lovely.” 

“I don’t know if it’s a he or she.” The girl shrugs. “I just like the name Sunny.” 

Crab facts you may not know: 

• female crabs must molt their hard shell before they can mate. The male crab hugs and protects the female for days until she sheds and then stands guard until her new shell rehardens. Now that’s a true knight.

• crabs have eyestalks that swivel in all directions. When they hide under the sand, they use their eyes like mini periscopes.

• the majority of crabs skuttle sideways and dig into the sand butt first, so their head is close to the surface to feed and watch for predators.

• the purple shore crab is common and can grow to two inches wide. It comes in every colour except purple – insert WTH emoji.

 

I sigh. I’m not sure which I enjoyed more – the crab trivia or the interaction with the family. A delightful start to our holiday. 

 

Baker, Barbara - BWL Publishing Inc. (bookswelove.net)

Barbara Baker Author Page Facebook 

 

Summer of Lies by Barbara Baker — BWL Publishing

What About Me? by Barbara Baker — BWL Publishing

Jillian of Banff XO — BWL Publishing

The Essence of Andy Clitheroe- by Naguib Kerba

 https://www.nkerba.com/the-essence-of-series/the-essence-of-andy-clitheroe

Website:  https://www.nkerba.com

Hazards of Spring Cleaning by J. S. Marlo

 

Wide of the Mark

(Click here to buy)

   

 

  

To buy any of my books, visit

J. S. Marlo's Books

It's been raining for a week over here, so I went into spring cleaning mode. I'm far from done, but I'm making substantial progress. As I install a new celing fan, clean the other fans (bathrooms/ceilings/kitchen...), go up and down the stepladder to clean windows and light fixtures, scenarios of how someone could be killed in ways that looked accidental pop into my mind.

So, for the fun of it, I browsed the web for household  deaths. Did all these events truly happen? I don't know, but I could definitely relate to the following ones:

1- While cleaning outside windows, someone fell from a ladder.

* I missed the last step of 3-step stepladder yesterday cleaning a bathroom fan, but thankfully I didn't break or sprain anything.

2- While cleaning the kitchen, someone tripped over the open dishwasher door and was fatally impaled on knives sticking up of the cutlery tray.

* I did that once, but the dishwasher was empty.

3- While attempting to separate frozen burgers with a knife in the kitchen,  someone stabbed himself in the stomach.

* I did that too many times to count with a regular knife, but I may think twice before doing it again.

4- While someone was dusting a bookcase, the bookcase tipped forward, crushing that person to death.

* When my son was little, he climbed his 3-drawer dresser using the handles as footholds. The dresser, which faced his bed, tipped over him. His room was the smallest in the house, and there was maybe 2 feet between the dresser and the footboard of his bed, just enough space to open the drawers. The dresser hit the footboard, which stopped its fall. I heard a huge bang and a piercing scream. I found my son sitting at the foot of his bed with the dresser inches over his head. He was safe and scared, but not as scared as I was over what could have been.

I guess I should go back to cleaning...

Happy Reading! 

Hugs!

JS

 

 

J. S. Marlo's Website

Rainbows and Puppy Dogs by Julie Christen

We learn early on that life is hard. And it most certainly is NOT fair. What are the old adages? 

Flight comes after the struggle.

Nothing gold can stay. 

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  

Life ain't all rainbows and puppy dogs.

Maker knows, I have leaned on sayings like these more times than I can count to get me through some dark times in my life. Like this spring.

But don't you sometimes just get a little exhausted from it all? Don't you sometimes just wish the universe would back off ... For. One. Minute? Wouldn't it be nice to give your "Suck it up" muscles a chance to go soft? Why exactly, Mr. Robert Frost, why can't some golden things stick around? And what's so wrong, after all, with a few more rainbows and puppy dogs?

I do understand the danger of getting too comfortable - how it makes the mind complacent. Makes it easy to quit exploring. Quit wishing, quit being curious, quit wanting much of anything from life. And maybe too much comfort can lull you into taking some of the good things for granted. 

But I do not believe life was meant to be spent perpetually on the toes. And I don't mean prima ballerina-style. I mean, always-on-guard, prepare-for-ninja-attack toes. At some point, aren't we allowed to relish in the deliciousness of relaxed shoulders and a slack jaw? I'm talking as an expected, relished, well-earned part of life, not as a prescribed therapeutic remedy we must be reminded to carry out.

Think of all those in our lives, too, who take (or took) the whole "Never quit" and "Hang in there" kitten poster to Olympic levels. Like Frank Kuntz, who still fights to this very minute through cancer and a heartbreaking yet inspiring past to preserve the Nokota horses. 

Think of Jude. Our publishing warrior. Who took a chance on us. She saw something special in us and made our dreams of writing become something real. 

I can't control the universe. 

I can, however, decide how to tell my stories. While I do not intend to glaze over hardships and struggles for readers to connect to, I will always try to relax some shoulders, unclench some jaws, and share some rainbows and puppy dogs. Every. Single. Time.

Spoiler alert!

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No dogs will die in my books. You're welcome.

To Josie. A beautiful blink in my life. 

(2023-2026)