The Joy of The End by Eileen O'Finlan

 

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Two of most writers favorite words are "The End." That's not because we don't like writing. Most of us love it. It's because "The End" represents that the first leg of a very long and often arduous process is finally finished. It can take months or even years to be able to type those words. For those of us who write in genres that take a tremendous amount of research before a single word of the story gets written, it may be even longer. 

It is not, however, truly the end for the author. The first draft is just the beginning. Once those glorious words have been typed, the author enters the next phase of the writing process - revisions. The first draft is only that, the first of what could eventually be many drafts before the book is finally done. I completely rewrote Kelegeen at least three times before it was truly finished.

Recently, I typed "The End" on the first draft of my current work in progress, an historical novel to be titled The Folklorist. Upon seeing those words appear on the screen, I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from me. I would not have been surprised to find myself floating around the room (okay, I would have been surprised, but maybe not that much). 

I knew perfectly well that it was not really the end. I'm now slogging through revisions, fixing problems, looking for any issues with pacing or continuity. Given that The Folklorist has a dual timeline, something I've never written before, it is especially challenging. But I'm up for a challenge, and, honestly, I've been delighted to find that the timelines held together on the first draft much better than I expected. 

So if there's still so much more work to do after the first draft has been completed, why is typing "The End" such a big deal? It's because of what it represents. An entire body of work has been completed. The author who likely had plenty of doubts, writing crises, writer's block, and general hair-pulling moments liberally sprinkled amongst times of pure writing joy, can finally say that a complete story has been written. The obstacles were overcome. "I did it!" may ring through the air.

Yes, there will be things to fix, add, delete, whatever. But a whole story emerged despite the times it threatened to keel over and die. And that is a feeling to which very few things can compare.

                                                        

Indoor Dining and Other Joyous Occasions by Connie Vines

We have all been social distancing, staying home, and donning masks for the past year to prevent infection. Depending on the size of your "social bubble" (usually, immediate family members), you are able to interact with others. The vaccine availability seems to have lessened stress levels of many, and for that, I am grateful. 

However, here in southern California, we have been "closed" for almost and entire year. 

Historic Downtown Upland

Even outdoor dining was only a very recent and not very frequent option.

Being an Introvert by nature, and a writer with two dogs for company, life hasn't been intolerable for me. However, the days and weeks seem to blend into one another. 

And, while my dogs were able to visit the groomer--I was not.

I am not very good at do-it-your-self hair cuts. Still, I am ambidexterous, so my nails are presentable. (Not a good trade-off, but it is what it is.)

When we were given the okay for indoor dining, I realized I have not sat inside a restaurant since Jan. 2020. 

Wow.

My favorite restaurant (Souplantation) is shuttered for good.

This gave me a chance to re-define 2021 with a tentative baby-step.  Nothing profound, mind you, but a step back into normalcy.

I do love coffee but I also enjoy a cup of Earl Grey tea every afternoon, I realized, pondering a place to dine.

I visited my hairstylist.

I was able to make a reservation at a 'newly relocated'  English Tea Room.

The Magnolia Tea Room is only 6 miles from my home. It's also located in the Downtown Historical District in Upland, California. 

I thought I'd share my joyous occasion and '1st 2021 Adventure' with you :-).

The Outdoor Garden

The Afternoon Tea setting

The scone was delicious (I didn't snap a picture)

The Ladies' Room

 

Terry, "Me" and Michael (notice my lovely hairdo)
 All vegetables and fruit are harvested from one of their two local farms.
Farm to Table is their motto.
I brought home a jar of  'honey with a touch of lavender', too!

After I click the 'publish' button for this post, I'm back at my keyboard with a pup in my lap and a cup of hot tea within reach. 

Happy Reading! (remember to mention a favorite tea in any comment you leave for me.)

Next Release

https://bookswelove.net/vines-connie/

Why Did I Write a Memoir, Arranging a Dream: A Memoir by J.Q. Rose

Arranging a Dream: a Memoir by J.Q. Rose

Official book launch January 1, 2021

Click here to pre-order now

Click here to discover more books by J.Q. Rose from BWL Publishing

Hello and welcome to the BWL Publishing Blog!

I have some breaking news for you! I am excited to announce my memoir, Arranging a Dream: A Memoir is officially one of BWL Publishing's newest published books. The official launch date is January 1, 2021, but with this new way of releasing books using the pre-order opportunity, the eBook is available now and will be delivered to your reading device on January 1. 

Arranging a Dream is a step into the new genre, Memoirs, for BWL Publishing. 

Here is the Back of the Book information to let you know what this "feel-good" story is all about:

In 1975, budding entrepreneurs Ted and Janet purchase a floral shop and greenhouses where they plan to grow their dream. Leaving friends and family behind in Illinois and losing the security of two paychecks, they transplant themselves, their one-year-old daughter, and all their belongings to Fremont, Michigan, where they know no one. 

 Will the retiring business owners nurture Ted and Janet as they struggle to develop a blooming business, or will they desert the inexperienced young couple to wither and die in their new environment?

 Most of all, can Ted and Janet grow together as they cultivate a loving marriage, juggle parenting with work, and root a thriving business?

 Follow this couple’s inspiring story, filled with the joy and triumphs and the obstacles and failures experienced as they travel along the turbulent path of turning dreams into reality.

I have written mysteries and romantic suspense to entertain readers. A memoir, also known as creative non-fiction, is so different from writing fiction where everything is made up. The writer can go hog-wild and write about alien worlds, space operas, contemporary romance and no one cares if it's true. 

A memoir tells the truth about real life. That is very difficult for a fiction writer!  A life story or biography covers a person's entire life, but a memoir is just a small piece of it. Think of all those life experiences as a delicious pumpkin pie. A memoir would be just a slice of it. 

I began writing my memoir thinking it would be for my kids. I wanted to encourage them to dream big for their lives. I chose to write about the first year we were in the flower business because leaving the security of family and friends and bringing our year-old daughter to a new home was challenging and life-changing for us. Our dream was to be entrepreneurs in the greenhouse business. 

We fell in love with the greenhouse operation attached to a flower shop in the charming town of Fremont, Michigan. Not only would we be growing plants, but also selling fresh flowers and everything that goes along with servicing customers during major events in their lives like weddings, anniversaries, new babies, illnesses and funerals.

I discovered the story had all the elements of fiction, Ted and I, the main characters, conflicts with the previous owners, and a beautiful setting in a small town in West Michigan.

 

"If you try, you might fail, but if you don't try, you'll never succeed."

I thought this story could inspire folks to pursue their dreams. To take a chance. That's when I decided to approach my publisher to see if she would consider publishing my memoir, and she said yes. So the book's official launch date from BWL Publishing is January 1, 2021. What a way to start the new year!

Memoir writing allows the writer to visit events in her life and see them through a new perspective--time. Life storytellers discover more about themselves during the journey. And that's what it is--a journey toward a new understanding. 

I hope you will try writing a few stories you remember about your life. Sharing the good old days with friends and family and getting their perspectives on what occurred so many years ago is fun and at times, eye-opening.  Believe me, each person will have a different recollection about past experiences and sometimes conflict with your memories. But since it's your story, you tell it the way you remember it! You are the author of your life.

November is National Life Writing Month

I offer workshops in life storytelling because I am a life story evangelist! I want to let you know November is National Life Writing Month. Take this opportunity to break out a journal or notebook and make some entries about your life. If you don't know how to begin, search online for "life story writing prompts" or "memoir prompts" to spark some memories. Have fun!

Arranging a Dream: A Memoir by J.Q. Rose
Click here to pre-order

About J.Q. Rose: 

Whether the story is fiction or non-fiction, J.Q. Rose is “focused on story.”  She offers readers chills, giggles and quirky characters woven within the pages of her mystery books. Her published mysteries are Deadly Undertaking, Terror on Sunshine Boulevard and Dangerous Sanctuary released by Books We Love Publishing. 

Author J.Q. Rose

Using her storytelling skills, she provides entertainment and information in articles featured in books, magazines, newspapers, and online magazines. J.Q. taught elementary school for several years and never lost the love for teaching passed down from her teacher grandmother and mother. She satisfies that aspect of her character by presenting workshops on Creative Writing and Writing Your Life Story. 

When J.Q.  isn’t writing, she enjoys photography, playing Pegs and Jokers board games, and traveling with her husband. They spend winters in Florida and summers up north with her four grandsons and granddaughter and their parents too.

Romantic Tropes, a Shocking Parody by Diane Scott Lewis

Warning: Romance Authors, please don't take offence. What you do and do well is wonderful for your eager audience. This is my own experience and feelings.

When I first read Romance Novels, they were racy, sexy, and a woman could have more than one lover. Now they follow a strict formula, and are toned down, unless it's Erotica.
The man and woman must meet in the first few pages; they can't be apart during the story for large chunks of time; and there must be a HEA: happily Ever After.

I read several, but the formula wore me down. I wanted surprises, better historical details, in other words, I wanted straight Historical Fiction with Romantic Elements.


Finally, I decided to write a romance parody, using all the tropes, but making fun of them. The Heaving Breast, Bodice Ripper, but all presented as Tongue-in-Cheek.
I tried to parody all the tropes writers are supposed to avoid: The arranged marriage. The Alpha make who's a jerk, until our heroine tames him. He's in a position of power over her. He insults her (but in my story, she insults him right back). She's devastatingly gorgeous. He's handsome and brooding There's so many, the list could go on.
But I do give them a HEA.

Excerpt:

“How is your sojourn in London, my lady? A sudden urge to travel, had you?” Griffin smiled at the rising anger in her blue eyes.

     “How dare you follow me, sir. And drag me into bushes.” Miss Pencavel pulled away from him, chin jutted out. “I told you my wishes in Cornwall. You have wasted your time if you’re here to change my mind.”
         “Truth is, I did have business in town, so it’s not a total waste.” He rocked back on his heels, arms now behind his back. His actions were irrational, and totally alien to his usual demeanor. “You intrigue me, Miss Pencavel, such as a wasp might intrigue one. You wonder how close you may hover before being stung.”
          "You will feel my sting, sir; but nothing else of my person. I will buzz away from your distasteful reach." She slowly licked her ice cream spoon, her breasts heaving.

He laughed and enjoyed baiting her. This slip of a girl provoked him, and that was disconcerting. Most females he understood as connivers or simpletons. Miss Pencavel appeared to be neither. Her eyes shone with an innate intelligence. Why had he followed her into the garden—he had little use for marriage? A wife like her would only get in his way.

He'd provoke her further.

“I've long wanted to ask, are you like your mother, partial to servants and other low-lifes?”

“I might be partial to whoever takes my fancy, a sailor, a groom, a particularly handsome nightsoil man.” She scrutinized him closely. “I’ve heard you have sinister inclinations, not that such things would bother me, being the free-thinking person I am, but I’d rather not be troubled with you.” Yet the wanton glint in her eyes spurred him on.
 

The response I received in reviews shocked me. People were insulted. They left mean reviews on-line, even though in the blurb at the beginning I explained it's a parody, a farce, etc. Here was my Author's Note:

all clichés, redundancies, startling coincidences,

and anachronisms are presented here on purpose.

Don't be offended, I want you to laugh.

To purchase this novel for farce and parody, and my other BWL books: BWL  or Lady Pencavel

Find out more about me and my novels on my website: Dianescottlewis

Diane and husband, at former navy base, Greece

 Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty puppy.

Death of King Charles II By Katherine Pym

 

Buy Here

First, a little about him…

King Charles II

King Charles II lived a life full of sex and sport. During his youth, he learned to keep his own counsel. He was kind natured, only allowing his need for revenge against a few of the regicides. Cromwell was one of these, even though already dead and buried.

Charles took a long time to come to a state decision. He’d put it off with a wave of his hand, and play with one of his women. He loved spaniels, and several romped in his private chambers, soiling the floors so that no one could walk across the room in a straight line.

Charles' siblings with their spaniels

Even though he reigned in a Protestant country, while on the run in 1651 after his defeat at the Battle of Worcester, Charles was protected at their peril by Catholics. For a few hours, Charles hid in a priest hole, very snug and claustrophobic, while Parliament men searched for him. By the end of his trek through England and into exile, Charles had gained a high regard for Catholics and Catholicism.

But I digress.

While Charles reigned, he did not confide in many. He was considered an enigma by both his contemporaries and those who study him. He had a kind heart. His nature made people comfortable. They confided in him, wanted to be near him. But when Charles wanted to be alone, or was tired of the subject, he’d pull out his watch. Those who knew of this would quickly state their business, for soon their king would walk away.

Charles loved reading (not political or religious). He brought great strides to the theatre sector, and he enjoyed science. In 1660, he approved a charter for The Royal Society. The group of great minds, Isaac Newton for one, met at Gresham College in London City. Experiments took place there, including draining the veins of a dog into the veins of another dog. The results amazed those curious people.

So, we come to his death…

Cruel Medicine

‘He fell sick of a tertian fever’, but the official cause of death is: Uraemia (per dictionary.com—“a condition resulting from the retention in the blood of constituents normally excreted in the urine.”), chronic nephritis. Syphilis.

On the evening of February 1, 1685, Charles went to bed with a sore foot. By early morning, he was very ill with fever. His physician (Sir Edmund King) tended to his foot whilst a barber shaved his head. Suddenly, the king suffered apoplexy. His physician immediately withdrew sixteen ounces of blood. Sir Edmund took a big risk, and could have been charged with treason. The protocol was to get permission from the Privy Council prior to a bloodletting.

But they were learning. First microscope

For several days, Charles was tormented by his physicians. As a private man this must have been difficult. Surrounded by more physicians than could gain his bed, they attempted to remove the ‘toxic humours’ that penetrated his body.

He was bled and purged. Cantharides plasters were stuck to his bald pate. They caused blistering. They attached plasters of spurge to his feet, then red-hot irons to his skin. Besides the large number of physicians crowding his bed, His Royal Highness’ bedchamber was filled to the walls with spectators (family members and state officials).

They gave the poor king “enemas of rock salt and syrup of buckthorn, and ‘orange infusion of metals in white wine’. The king was treated with a horrific cabinet of potions: white hellebore root; Peruvian bark; white vitriol of peony water; distillation of cowslip flowers; sal ammoniac; julep of black cherry water (an antispasmodic); oriental bezoar stone from the stomach of a goat and boiled spirits from a human skull.”

After days of this, he apologized for taking so long to die, then added, “I have suffered much more than you can imagine.”

Finally, on February 6, 1685 “the exhausted king, his body raw and aching with the burns and inflammation caused by his treatment, was given heart tonics, to no avail. He lapsed into a coma and died at noon on February 7.”

His death is considered by historians as “iatrogenic regicide”.

~*~*~*~

I give thanks to Royal Poxes & Potions, The Lives of Court Physicians, Surgeons & Apothecaries, by Raymond Lamont-Brown.

Barkerville Beginnings, Book Four of BWL Publishing's Canadian Historical Brides Collection

A single mother running from her past and a viscount running from scandal meet in the rough and tumble gold rush town of Barkerville. (Available at your favourite online store HERE.)

***** 

Four years ago, my wonderful publisher BWL Publishing invited me to participate in a project in honour of Canada’s 150^th birthday. The Canadian Historical Brides Collection is comprised of twelve books, one for every province and territory and each book is the story of a bride who contributed to the building of Canada. Our only stipulation was that the book had to be a blend of fact and fiction.

(You can find the entire collection on the BWL Publishing website HERE)

Each participating author could choose which province they wanted to write about and I was lucky enough to snag British Columbia. I say lucky, as British Columbia is one of our favourite vacation destinations and it wasn’t too difficult to come up with a location in which to place my story. Eventually I decided on the ghost town of Barkerville that sprang into existence during the Cariboo gold rush. My husband and I have visited there a couple of times over the years and I thought it would be a wonderful setting for the story of Rose and her little girl Hannah, and Harrison.

After gold was discovered in 1861 in Williams Creek in the Cariboo, thousands of men and women made the trek up the Fraser River, through the Fraser Canyon, north to what is now Quesnel and from there east into Barkerville. At one time, this town was thought to be the largest settlement west of Chicago, with an estimated population of 10,000! With such a large influx of people, in 1861 the Royal Engineers were given the task of building the Cariboo Road. By 1865, the road made it possible for mule trains, freight wagons and stage coaches to serve central British Columbia. When completed, it was considered one of the wonders of the world. Today you can still see remnants of the road just outside of Lytton.

As an author of one of the Canadian Historical Brides books, I had to incorporate real people so I did. ie Wa Lee, who gives Rose a job in his laundry, Judge Begbie, (known as “The Hanging Judge” and doesn’t that tweak your interest!), Madame Fannie Bendixon, the hotelier and saloon keeper (who may or may not have run a brothel!) who also offers Rose a job, Dr. Wilkinson who treats the injured leg of Rose’s daughter Hannah, and Wellington Delaney Moses, the barber, because Harrison needed a shave after being out in the gold fields.

I’ve been to Barkerville so I wanted to mention the lonely grave you drive past on your way in from Quesnel. Here is Rose’s impression as she passes by:

The wagon slowed as the road neared a fenced grave, enough that Rose could read the headboard: Charles Morgan Blessing.

“Lonely spot to be buried,” Harrison commented and he doffed his hat as they drove past.

Rose nodded. “It is.” A chill tiptoed down her back at the forlorn sight, a reminder of the fragility of life in this wilderness. She craned her neck for one last glimpse before the road twisted away.

I was also quite taken with the wooden sidewalks so of course I had to mention those as well:

 “Looks like we’ve arrived,” said Harrison as a cluster of buildings came into view. Once again the mules, sensing the end of a long day, picked up their pace and the wagon bounced and rattled down the last little bit of the Cariboo Trail.

Rose hadn’t known what to expect but her first view left her numb. This was Barkerville? The town that gold built? This jumble of wooden, mostly single story buildings tottering on stilts alongside a wide, muddied creek? Surrounded by steep hills stripped bare of trees? How unattractive, brutally so.

The road through town was in poor shape, rutted and puddled with patches of drying mud. In consideration for pedestrians, raised wooden walkways fronted every building like planked skirts. Rose could only conclude the creek must flood frequently. Her poor boots, already soaked through once since embarking on the trip, would certainly be put to the test here.

The closer they came, the more her heart sank. What had she got themselves into?

Here are a couple of pictures of Barkerville today. The second picture gives you a good idea of the wooden sidewalks. 

As an author of historical romance, it’s my job to place my readers in the proper time frame and I hope I’ve accomplished that in Barkerville Beginnings!