Writing and reading in times of... Whatever this is. by Diane Bator

Writing and reading in times of... Whatever this is....

By Diane Bator

There have been hundreds if not hundreds of thousands of blogs and articles written already about how readers and writers are coping with the Covid crisis. Lately, I've found myself on several virtual lectures and meetings discussing what our world looks like as authors.

Do we have the same struggles with concentrating while our world is in a constant state of change?

Are any of us immune to what happens outside our front doors on a daily basis?

Are we staying sane or losing our marbles in solitude?

Our local library had to cancel our Open Mic night featuring local authors. Instead, we each recorded ourselves doing short readings for library staff to air that night. As well, the continued their Storytellers Series in the same way. Each month an author or local celebrity is doing a 20 minute chat for library patrons. I'm looking forward to trying my hand at doing my first video this week.

Toronto Sisters in Crime held their first ever Zoom meeting last month, which was a blast! I was grateful for the opportunity to be a part of this because physically joining in the meetings is difficult. What a great time we had talking about what we are or are not currently writing. We commiserated about the struggle with inspiration now that we have all the time we need. Like all meetings lately, the mood was heavy until then talk turned to what we're watching on Netflix. It was helpful to hear of mystery series I've never read or seen. I left that meeting feeling much lighter and not so worried about creating when I didn't have the energy for it. Darned if right after I got off the meeting, one of the shows we talked about was on television. Vera. I'm a fan!

Another great discussion I got to listen to was put on by the Writers' Trust of Canada   https://www.facebook.com/writerstrust/  Five great Canadian authors gave some great advice to writers of all levels. On this call was Tanya Talaga (the moderator), Eden Robinson, Heather O'Neill, Michael Crummey, and Miriam Toews. The chat was filled with comments about Eden's amazing laugh but my best takeaway from the whole thing was the sense that they are all dealing with the same day-to-day struggles we all are. And they're keeping a sense of humor about it all!

As authors, they are used to solitude and working alone, but the loneliness is a whole other thing. All of them are fortunate to be self-isolated with family members and have lots of human interaction via digital means. Where Michael and Heather are working as normal, keeping their routine as usual. For the rest, there are family members and things they have to work around.

One very funny moment was when Eden admitted her biggest challenge was eating her own cooking. Since she's traveled so much before this all hit, she was used to eating out all the time. The general consensus was that cooking takes up an awful lot of writing time!

Heather pointed out that stories written BC (Before Covid) would not reflect the changes in society we currently see, but she feels there will be a demand for literature and the voices we all have in order for things to feel normal again. As for writers who want to know how to become published, there are as many different routes to becoming a published writer as there are writers.

The best advice they all had for fellow writers the reminder that we all need to sit for long periods of time "doing nothing." It's been said that 95% of writing is staring out the window. Of course, that nothing time gives us space to create before we put our thoughts on paper. The second best was simply:  Stay Optimistic and Keep Writing!

Diane Bator
Author of Wild Blue Mysteries, Gilda Wright Mysteries, Glitter Bay Mysteries
and the NEW upcoming Sugarwood Mysteries!

Titillating preview by J.C. Kavanagh

WINNER Best Young Adult Book 2016, The Twisted Climb

I've been prepping for Autumn book signings and excited to meet new and current readers. I'll be heading to Ontario Chapters stores in Barrie, Oshawa, Kanata and Toronto's Eaton Centre in October and November. Please come on by and introduce yourself! 

The Twisted Climb is an award-winning novel about three teenagers who meet in a strange, moonlit dream world where the only way to ‘fall’ asleep is to climb. As they climb their way up a dark, forested, mountain that is loaded with adventure and paranormal activities, they overcome private fears and negative circumstances. The main characters – Jayden, a brash girl known more for her bullying tactics than sportsmanship; Connor, a calm, intuitive young man, and Max, a young teenager trying to be a man in a boy’s body – join forces in their common dream world and battle to overcome the crazy obstacles on their climb. However, their adventures take a more sinister turn when they meet Richard Hatemore, a sickly boy who seems to live in the dream world they are so desperately trying to escape from and who does everything in his power to prevent them from reaching their goal. As the sleep climbers move closer to the top, they begin to work together as a team and ultimately, face their greatest challenge together.

These past few months I've been working on the sequel and loving every minute of it! I'm constantly reviewing the original book and I thought I would share a wee excerpt of my favourite part. At this point in the book, the characters have met in the dream world and are trying to figure out how to get to the top of the mountain so they can 'fall' to sleep. Their attempt at zip lining has been interrupted and their zip line cut by a strange-looking boy.....

Jayden, Connor and Max made their way to the base of the zip line platform. The dim lighting from above illuminated the steps. There were dark shadows all around them as the moon made its way in and out of the night-time clouds. Suddenly, Connor held up his hand. “Listen!”

The three stood still and listened intently. A weird type of sing-song chant floated down from above, then silence, followed by several loud thuds.

“I don’t like it.

I don’t want it.

I HATE it.”

THUD THUD THUD

“What the heck?” whispered Jayden.

“It’s that boy,” replied Connor.

“I don’t like it.

I don’t want it.

I HATE it.”

THUD THUD THUD

Over and over again, the boy repeated the words, ending with three loud thuds, like a hammer hitting a plank of wood.

“Do-do-do we have to go up there?” asked Max timidly.

“Yes we do, if we want to get to the Town of Sleepmore in the quickest way possible,” replied Connor. “And I’d rather zip line over the valley than hike. Wouldn’t you?”

“I guess so,” said Max. He looked frightened.

“Listen,” said Connor, “maybe this guy is lost and wants to get to the Town of Sleepmore too!”

“And that’s why he dropped us in the middle of the Valley of Tired?” asked Jayden. “I’m not being sarcastic,” she said before Connor could get angry. “I just don’t trust the guy.”

“Me neither,” piped up Max.

“Well,” said Connor, “let’s go find out what he’s all about.”

Leading the way, Connor climbed the ladder-style steps up to the platform. The closer they got, the clearer the chant and the louder the thud of the hammer, or whatever it was the boy was using to make the thunking noise.

Near the top, Connor stopped and peered over the platform. The boy was outlined against the fluorescent light behind him while the moon cast a milky glow as it peeked out from the clouds. He sat with his legs crossed, eyes closed as if in a trance, repeating the chant. His arms seemed unusually long, extending into his hands without any apparent wrists. With his right hand, he clutched the cable cutters in a vise-like grip, slamming the tool down at the end of each chant. His bald head shone in the faint light. Wisps of long, dark hair jutted out from behind his large ears. A deep, red scar ran across the top of his head, from one ear over to the other. His small body seemed unnaturally thin and bony. Connor was trying to figure out how old he was when the boy opened his eyes.

“You’re baaaack,” he said with a horrible grin, his thin lips stretched wide between sunken cheeks.

Connor scrambled up the remaining steps and crossed to the middle of the platform, followed by Jayden and Max. Jayden glanced at Max and took his hand in hers. He was trembling and obviously terrified. She put her arm around him protectively, then looked at the strange-looking boy and pushed away all thoughts of fear.

“You’re such a dick!” she declared.

The boy looked startled, as if he had been recognized.

“What? Is your name actually Dick?” spat out Jayden.

“Not quite,” replied the boy, flashing deep black eyes at Jayden. “It’s Richard. Richard, um, Hatemore.”

Before Jayden could say another word, Connor interrupted. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded, spreading his arms and pointing to the cut zip line. He walked to the opposite side of the platform, pulling Jayden and Max with him.

“It’s my job,” replied Richard with a sneer, keeping his distance from them.

“Your job sucks!” announced Jayden, pointing her finger at the boy. “You need a new job — one that helps kids fall to sleep!”

“Never. Never!” replied Richard angrily. “I want you to hate more sleep!” He raised the cable cutters and slammed the tool down hard.

THUD.

At the same time, Connor turned and checked out the secondary zip line leading to the end of the Valley of Tired. It was intact. As quick as a cobra, Connor clipped his harness onto the pulley. With a sweeping motion, he grabbed Jayden with his right arm, Max with his left and hollered, “Hold on!” Connor jumped off the platform.

****

Stay tuned for the sequel to The Twisted Climb: Darkness Descends. In the meantime, you can purchase the award-winning The Twisted Climb here: http://www.bookswelove.net/authors/kavanagh-j-c/

J.C. Kavanagh

The Twisted Climb

A novel for teens, young adults and adults young at heart.
WINNER: Best Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers’ Award
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh
www.amazon.com/author/jckavanagh
Twitter @JCKavanagh1 (Author J.C. Kavanagh)

Sentimentality. And Raffie Giraffie.

Award-winning book, The Twisted Climb by J.C. Kavanagh

It's been 23 years since my dad passed away unexpectedly. It would have been his 90th birthday the other day and it got me thinking about how I wished he were here to read my books and be part of my new publishing journey.
He was a bit of a curmudgeon, I have to admit. Growing up in Dublin, Ireland, in a building called The Ballast Office on the River Liffey, he had to be tough. So when he came to Canada in May 1957, he believed that he was tough enough for anything Canada could throw his way.
Until the winds of November.
And the arctic cold in December.
And the snowy blizzards in January.
"How in the name of God would anyone want to live here?" he used to say, clenching his teeth.
Now my dad was not of the Kavanagh clan (that's me mather's side), so I'm not sure if the lack of blue blood in his veins made him more likely to feel the cold. Or should that be the other way around?
"Winter in Canada is not fit for man nor beast," he would say in a bitter voice as he scraped the ice off the windshield of the old Volkswagen Beetle.
Personally, I loved winter. Still do. I love the feel of the wind on my face and the ice-cold velvet of snowflakes on my cheeks. As a child, I would beg to be brought outside. We couldn't afford skis but we did have an old toboggan.
"Will you come with me?" I would ask my dad.
He'd look at me with disbelief.
"You want to go out in that?"
I would squirm in my squeaky snow pants and shuffle my ugly galoshes together - you know the kind - where your shoe fits into your boot. The large metal buckle at the top at the top of the boot did nothing to improve its appearance. Style and galoshes were and always will be, from two different galaxies.
So my dad would mutter something about lost opportunities in the good ol' country and then say NO.

Me and my dad, 1983

Looking back, I realize that he didn't have galoshes - only us kids were brave/stupid enough to wear them in public. He had those rubbery half-shoe type of footware that semi-covered your shoes. We lived in an apartment until I was in my teens and to this day, I cannot remember him enjoying a Canadian winter day while outside.
Well, Dad, I overcame a lot of obstacles since you passed. I wish you were here to tell me "good job" and "to put the Irish lilt in Canadian lore." Then I would tell you that winter in Canada is fit for man and beast but NOT ugly galoshes. With a cheeky grin, I'd then blow you a kiss. I hope it goes all the way to you in heaven.

Creative class at the Library

A couple of weeks ago I had the great pleasure of leading a group of children in a creative writing class. These kids were between the ages of six and ten, so they were too young to read my young adult book, The Twisted Climb. Nevertheless, creativity has no age limits and no boundaries - particularly with kids. I gave them three prompts: twin boys, a giraffe, and a glacier. So in the space of 40 minutes, we wrote a story about Raffie Giraffie. It was spectacular! Here's a synopsis of the story:
Twin boys, Nick and Steve, loved to slide down Raffie Giraffie's neck, through the glacier, into a cave and then into the ocean. While they were playing, along came a creature dressed like a giraffe, but it was really a tiger! When one of the boys began struggling in the water, the tiger ripped off his giraffe costume (but left on the long neck and head) and pointed to his shirt. It said, "Certified lifeguard." To the rescue went Tiger, still wearing the giraffe head like a snorkel. They became BCFs (best creature friends). The end.

There are no walls in your mind. Only those that you build.

Enjoy life!

J.C. Kavanagh

The Twisted Climb
BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers' Poll
A novel for teens, young adults and adults young at heart
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh
www.Amazon.com/author/jckavanagh
Twitter @JCKavanagh1 (Author J.C. Kavanagh)

Cleaning house

The Twisted Climb by J.C. Kavanagh

Is your house getting cleaner as you get older?
If no, scroll to the next sub-heading.
If yes, keep reading.
I've noticed that every year, maybe even every month, my house stays cleaner for longer periods of time. Truly. The older I get, the cleaner my house.
Until recently.
I used to tell myself, "There's no dust here because I live in the country."
I used to tell myself, "The bathroom sinks stay shiny for ages."
I used to tell my friends that my house stays clean all by itself. "There's an anti-dirt / anti-dust fairy in my home." Weren't they great friends for just nodding their heads. No eye-rolling or cuckoo motions.
Until, as I said before, recently.
I was having dinner with my partner, Ian, and extolling the unending virtues of our house-cleaning fairy.
He quietly asked, "Are you talking about the fairy that's collecting dust bunnies in your bathroom?"
Whaaaat?
He was very calm about his question. Or was it a proclamation? I hurried to my bathroom, pulling Ian behind me. The dark green marble tile looked like it always does. I turned around inquiringly and Ian pointed to a corner, beside the Jacuzzi tub. I squinted and peered. "Nice marble, though the colour is a bit dated."
He sighed and handed me my reading glasses. "Now have a look."
"Alright," I said and perched them on my nose. I cast my eyes toward the offending corner.
Good Lord in heaven above. There were dust bunnies the size of cats and they had given birth to baby bunnies all over the floor!
What happened?
I looked at my sink. Were those eyebrow hairs behind the faucet, collecting on the white porcelain? Good Lord in heaven above. Yes.
Wasn't the sink shiny and clean? Well, kind of. More like shine-spot-here and shine-spot-there.
Now I was angry. That no-good house-cleaning fairy done gone and run off with a no-good lazy-butt dirt fairy.
Or not.
"What happened?" I asked my other half. "And why didn't you tell me?"
Ian just grinned. "I like it when you can't see the dust. I'm not going to tell you it's there.... you'll make me clean, too."
That was cheeky but quite true. Never has there been a more vacuum-loving, bathroom-cleaning and dust-free fanatic, than me.
Until recently.
Oh those eyes, they ain't what they used to be.

Next sub-heading

If you skipped to here, you missed a funny story and really, you should go back to the beginning.

My other half, Ian.

He's a good bloke - won't see dust - will feed birds.

Book signings in Ontario!

Come see me at the Chapters store in Square One, Mississauga on Saturday, January 28. Or, drop by for a visit at the Chapters store in Newmarket on Saturday, February 11.
I'm also part of two 'Meet the Author' events for the Angus and Caledon libraries in February and during the children's school break in March. I'm looking forward to sharing with the kids just how I 'dream' up most of my stories.

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you had a wee chuckle or two at the expense of me ol' eyeballs. Cheers!

Joanie
aka J.C. Kavanagh
The Twisted Climb
A novel for teens, young adults and adults young at heart.
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com
www.Facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh
Amazon.ca/author/jckavanagh
Twitter @JCKavanagh1

A summer to remember

Helllooooooo all!
It's the 16th day of the 2016th year - is that supposed to mean something special? Personally, I think every day is special, each for its own reason, or, for no reason at all. Just being.

This summer has been one of the most memorable in all my 50+ years. Weather was hot and dry and for sailing, winds were strong enough to warrant plenty of 'wind warnings' in Georgian Bay. However, the fish were too shy for my liking. When I bought the Styrofoam container of worms at the Marina, the girl at the counter assured me they were well trained. She was wrong. But, fish or no fish, just being on the water was its own reward.

Promote promote promote!

Between sailing escapades, I've been promoting my book, The Twisted Climb. It's a book for young adults and, as I like to add, for adults who are young at heart. I have two events taking place next month: one is a signing event at a Chapters store near me, and the other is a 'Meet the Author' night, part of Ontario Public Library Week celebrating authors and books. I'm sooooo pumped! For the latter, I'm one of five invited authors who will read an excerpt from their book and then participate in a Question & Answer period.

Amazon

I took to heart Jude Pittman's advice about configuring Amazon / Author Central for countries around the world. It's exhilarating to know that your book is available in another continent. And at £2.10 there is no excuse for my Irish family not to buy. Right?

Ball hockey girls are the best!

More summer excitement came from my ball hockey team. They've been great supporters in my writing / publishing journey and proved it with a congratulatory cupcake-cake. So it is true. Ball hockey girls are the best!

Twitter

My son informed me that being an author means being a tweeter. Doesn't that sound ridiculous? But, apparently not. So, I've dipped my toe into the twitter-verse or whatever it's called, and I'm experimenting with this form of social media. I have a Facebook account (www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh) which gives me free marketing exposure, so the next step, he tells me, is twitting. Or tweeting. Whatever.
Before I become a 'professional' with my twat or twit or tweet, I'm practicing under the following name: @JoanieJCK. Send me a tweet! I'll practice with my fellow BWL authors. Thanks for sharing my journey.

Joanie
J.C. Kavanagh
The Twisted Climb
A book for young adults and adults young at heart.

Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh
Twitter: @JoanieJCK