Keep safe...by Sheila Claydon

Click this link for my books and author page

COVID 19, or Coronavirus as it is more commonly known, is taking over the world. Countries are putting the most drastic measures in place to contain it and, in the process, damaging the global economy, causing what may be fatal disruptions to some small businesses, and upsetting the normal routines of their citizens. Despite what is still a relatively small number of people affected when measured against the world population, it has everyone running scared.  Especially those who have compromised immune systems because of other underlying illnesses, and the elderly.

Although I have visited many other countries around the world and know some of them well, in this instance I can only speak for the attitudes of the people in the UK, where measures different from those of the rest of Europe and beyond are beginning to unfold.  The decisions are based on the developing science of Coronavirus as well as from discussions with experts across the world. Only time will tell if they are the right decisions. In the meantime there is a new problem. The influence of social media. Despite clear and repeated guidance from medical experts, and despite there being 24 hour advice and access to free medical care, many people and organisations are beginning to panic and, instead, to copy the restrictions that are happening elsewhere. Again only time will tell if these personal decisions will interfere with the science the government is trying to follow. In the meantime most of us are doing the best to get on with our lives, especially the older members of the population even though they are in the high risk category.

Where I am life is continuing more or less as normal. The only difference is that everyone is making sure their larders and refrigerators are well stocked just in case they have to self-isolate, and this is a community top heavy with older people. Jokes about the situation circulate daily, neighbours wave cheerily and there is not a mask to be seen. Attitudes have been likened to the blitz spirit of 'we are all in this together' in WW2. Of course it will only take a couple of local cases for this to change but in the meantime the writer in me is fascinated by the phlegmatic attitude of so many people. Maybe growing up immediately after the war when food was rationed and choice was limited has had a long term effect, or maybe it's because older people have so much life experience that they are less easily frightened. Or maybe it's just that because so many of them don't follow social media that they remain exempt from the fears percolating the rest of the world.

Whatever it is, it is to be admired, and it is that spirit that is imbued in the very elderly grandmother as well as in some of the other older characters in my book Remembering Rose. Whatever happens in the world, writers can't help storing up the experience for future use. In the meantime, my cupboards are full, my family is safe, the sun is shining and the dog is asking for a walk.

Until this is over, stay safe and take care. Tomorrow is another day.

Gardener Ted's Spring Vegetable Garden and Hydroponic Gardening by J.Q. Rose

Cozy mystery author J.Q. Rose

Dangerous Sanctuary available at the Books We Love bookstore

Writing stories has been a pastime for me since I was seven years old. Making up characters and setting them in different situations has always been so much fun and satisfying. I enjoy  conjuring up novels today on my laptop as much as I did when I was a kid with pencil and paper stretching my imagination and sharing stories with friends.

My husband's lifelong pastime is gardening. He loves growing plants. So much so that his starting seedlings in a hobby greenhouse set us on the path to becoming business owners with a flower shop, garden center and greenhouses. Now in retirement, he is living his dream of gardening year round. He has a small winter garden in Florida and a very large garden in the summer in West Michigan.

Let me introduce you to Gardener Ted and his 2017 spring garden. 

He is always experimenting. 

This year, he is trying a no-till garden. No roto-tilling. In the photo you see all the dead-looking grass? That was rye that he planted in the fall. He digs a trench in the dead rye grass and plants his seeds.

In this photo he is watering the green beans (string beans) he just planted today, May 15. 

Next to it is rhubarb which comes up every year.

 You can see the baby pea plants are just getting a good start.

The onions are finally getting some growth. We have had pretty cool nights and days this spring, so the plants are waiting to grow. But once it warms up, there will be a big growth spurt.

 This morning he cut rhubarb for the first time and cooked it. Do you like rhubarb? I can eat it in a strawberry-rhubarb pie, kind of, but he loves it "stewed" in a pot. Just rhubarb with LOTS of sugar, no crust.

 This is the best results we've had for our strawberries in the past couple of years. 

Look at all the blossoms.

My mouth waters when I think of those delicious red berries coming on in June. If every blossom turns into a strawberry, we're going to be gorging ourselves, the family, and the neighbors on lots of strawberry shortcake and pie. Oh, and don't forget the strawberries on ice cream. Mmmm...

This winter Gardener Ted designed and constructed a hydroponic growing system. The dictionary defines hydroponics as "the cultivation of plants by placing the roots in liquid nutrient solutions rather than in soil."

This is the first system he built in Florida and raised delicious, clean varieties of lettuce.

For his spring garden, he has completed his new and improved system, including doubling the growing capacity of the Florida one.

The plants' roots are in the water to extract the nutrients out of the water flowing through the pipes. Gardener Ted carefully monitors and controls these factors every day.

The water is pumped out of this big gray container, through the large pipes, and then returns to the container to be pumped through again.

This system produced the best tasting, crunchy lettuce we've ever had.

Cleaning the fresh pulled lettuce heads from the hydroponics growing system is a dream. The heads are so clean, I just run them under the kitchen faucet, and they're ready for the toppings and dressing for a delightful fresh salad.

Besides working in the garden and having the satisfaction of eating the delicious veggies, he loves spending time with our grand kids and sharing his gardening knowledge with them. They love chomping on the vegetables as they help him harvest the crops. Someone said how much sweeter a pea is when eaten in the garden.

🥕🍅🥗🌶

Are you a gardener? Vegetables? Flowers? Why do you garden? Wishing you sunny skies and plenty of rain!

Connect online with J.Q. Rose here.

Photos by J.Q. Rose

Serendipity is a Book Club...by Sheila Claydon

Mending Jodie's Heart, Book 1 of my When Paths Meet trilogy, has just been chosen for next month's read by a local book club. It goes without saying that I am beyond excited. I'd like plaudits of course but even if I don't get them, just knowing a group of people are going to read it and discuss it is enough.

How did this happen?

Well Mending Jodie's Heart is a story woven around the countryside and the village where I live. This is unusual for me because the ideas for most of my books are triggered by other places. Maybe getting away from the humdrum of everyday life gives my imagination the freedom it needs to create. This wasn't the case with Jodie however. She didn't need creating. She arrived fully formed in my mind the way the best characters always do, and so did Marcus, the hero, and the other important characters in the book.

Why?

I know it started when I spent an evening listening to a jazz band with a fantastic pianist but how that segued into Jodie's story I have no idea. Maybe it was the closure of a local bridle path and the ensuing campaign to get it re-opened. Maybe it was the demolition of an old farmhouse. Maybe it was the sight of a pretty, dark-haired girl on horseback. I'll never know exactly what started the story, and what made me continue it into Books 2 and 3. What I do know, however, is that to write it I had to 'borrow' the old farmhouse and the new house that replaced it, the same as I had to 'borrow' the bridle path, and the local riding stables.

Once the book was published I moved on, as writers do, except that I always thought of the 'borrowed' house as Jodie's house whenever I walked past it. Then Books We Love decided to make its digital books available as paperbacks and that changed things. As soon as I received a print copy of Mending Jodie's Heart I crossed my fingers and wrote to the owners of the 'borrowed' house explaining what I had done, and offering them a copy.

I posted the note into their mailbox  when I took my dog for a walk, and then turned into the adjoining woodland and set off down a narrow path between the trees...too narrow for dog walkers to pass one another without giving way. And this is where it gets weird but in a good way. I was halfway along the path when  I saw a pretty blonde woman walking towards me with her dog...a dog I recognised as belonging to Jodie's house, even though I had never seen the owner. With no option but to stop I introduced myself and told her about the letter I had posted. After all if she did decide she wanted a copy of my book I was going to meet her anyway.

How was I to know that she was an avid reader who has run a book club for the past ten years? How was I to know that she would be thrilled beyond belief that I had written a story around the building of her home, and how was I to know that she would be unbelievably friendly and interested. She even joked that she was going to see how her husband scored in comparison with the hero.

So there you have it. I, in true writerly fashion, nosey around other people's lives watching their house being built, and my eventual reward is a new friend and a book in her book club. And what of the happy coincidence that took us down the same path on that windy morning when we had spent the previous 5 years never setting eyes on one another. Serendipity is a curious thing that might just be prompting me towards another book...the second of my Mapleby Memories, but that's another story!

And there's still another copy of Mending Jodie's Heart to give out...to the Riding School that let me watch the stable girls take their horses through their paces, so maybe some more friends too.

No phone, no wifi...will travel. By Sheila Claydon

In my last post I told you I was going to cruise through the Mediterranean in March. What I didn't know at the time was that I would also experience an almost total communication blackout. Unlike the US, few of the countries I visited had a tariff agreement with my telecommunications supplier so mobile roaming fees were exorbitant. On board ship the wifi was even more expensive as well as being so slow it was a waste of time. All of this meant that I was without email, phone or any social media for almost 3 weeks. Consequently I left my phone behind whenever I went ashore, which meant a complete photo blackout as well. There are no pictures of the trip, just memories, and how colorful they are.

I listened avidly to the guides instead of looking for things to photograph when we were ashore; I watched the people who walked by while I ate at pavement cafes; I noticed the birds pecking at crumbs under the table; I smelled the flowers. I learned more about Greek and Roman architecture than I ever would have if I'd had my camera with me because, instead of taking shots of the ancient sites I visited, I sat and listened to the guide without any interruption. It was the same when I had a gondola ride in Venice, and when I saw the monkeys on the rock in Gibraltar. No photos. Instead a memory of narrow waterways snaking between lofty, crumbling buildings, and then a traffic jam of black gondolas. I have a mind's eye view of a monkey stealing a tourist's hat in Gibraltar too, and the tricks the guardian of the rock used to get it back, something I might not have noticed if I'd been busy with my phone/camera.

On a coach journey I noticed the strange tipped over buildings in Albania, made uninhabitable by the government because they had been built without permission, and I heard the unnecessary but embarrassed apologies of the guide as she explained the poverty of her country. Then there was the bullet embedded in a wall right next to my head when I visited Dubrovnik. I'd have missed it if I'd been taking a picture of the scenic street instead and I might have missed what the guide was saying too. He was a young soldier during the 1990s who fought in the Serb/Croat war, so naturally he wanted to talk about it and show us exactly where the Serbian soldiers had taken up position and destroyed eighty per cent of his city in bombardments that sometimes lasted for 24 hours. It really brought home to me the horrors of what we had only seen on TV. That bullet said it all.

Listening and watching without being distracted by the ping of a phone or the need to take a photograph, I learned a whole lot more, and now that I'm home again the memories remain vivid.

The same happened on board ship. With no email or wifi to distract me, I watched the other passengers instead, making friends and listening to a lot of personal stories. There were a quite a few elderly British people on the cruise, mainly because the ship set sail from a home port so no flights were involved, and by the end of the trip I had gained a great deal of respect for so many of them.  Despite suffering significant disabilities or, in several cases, life threatening illnesses, their stoicism and enjoyment of life was amazing. I am lucky enough to still be reasonably fit but I hope when this is no longer the case that I will be as brave.

I was especially affected by the woman who, less than a year ago, jogged every day and regularly looked after and played with her young grandchildren. That was before she was suddenly struck down with such a devastating illness that she is now confined to a wheelchair, her body bent and disfigured in a horrible way, and in constant pain...yet she smiled and talked and was interested in other people, and when the ship berthed in foreign ports she insisted her husband take her wheelchair onto local trains and other transport so she could pretend she was still 'normal.'

People and places are truly amazing when we take the time to really look at and listen to them. My phone will be taking a back seat on future holidays too.

Cabin Fever, which is about life on a cruise ship, and which I wrote after cruising through New Zealand to Australia, is available from Books We Love and on Amazon, as are all my other books. They can be found at http://bookswelove.net/authors/claydon-sheila/ or on Amazon at amazon.com/author/sheilaclaydon

Crazy Travelling Woman by Nancy M Bell

Welcome to October! Autumn is my favorite time of the year. I love the colours and the crisp edge to the air. Last night a tiny sliver of waxing moon hung in the clear deep blue sky. It seemed the whole world was silent and holding its breath, even the wind was still.
Since last month, I've been to Hawaii on a cruise ship. It was a very nice trip and the islands were spectacular. Walked on lava that flowed from Mauna Loa very recently (in earth terms) and visited a newly created black sand beach. It was pretty surreal - not to mention really hot!

There are some truly special and sacred places on this earth that have nothing to do with organized religion but only with the earth herself. Iao Needle on Maui is one of those places.

On an entirely different note, I won at the Casino on the ship and actually came home with money! Yay me. Go Lucky Lemmings! A down note was that over 100 people on the ship got sick with norovirus. Not Doug or I, thank goodness. But it made for some interesting times. When we docked at Hilo there were 5 ambulances that met the ship, and in Maui another 3. When we docked in Vancouver at the end of the voyage, there were 2 ambulances. We survived the "Plague Ship"! LOL First time I've ever run into sickness on a cruise, never washed my hands so often in my life.

Now I've been home for a week or so, I'm back volunteering at the animal shelter and getting ready to head off to Surrey for the Surrey International Writers Conference. I love this conference and have attended for quite a few years. Always inspiring to get together with other authors and have the opportunity to pick the brains of some wildly successful authors during their workshops. A highlight is always Jack Whyte's Master Class where 12 lucky people get to have Jack critique 3 pages of their work. It's sold out every year and if you don't register on the very first day, and right away at that, the class is full already. I'll have tons of news from this year's conference to share with you next month. This year is a first for the "Unconference" where attendees were invited to send in a proposal for a 15 minute talk on a subject they have expertise in. I'm happy to say my ABC's of Horses was accepted, along with fellow author and friend, Suzanne de Montigny I will be presenting on Friday afternoon for my 15 minutes of fame. It will be great to hear what other Unconference presenters have to share.

Are you ready for Christmas yet? Well, Books We Love is! Five Christmas themed novellas will be released on November 1, 2015 and only available for a limited time. I'm thrilled to say that my A Longview Christmas will be among them. This is a short story set on Christmas Eve and featuring the characters from Storm's Refuge and the upcoming Come Hell or High Water, all set in Longview Alberta.

Till next month, be happy, be healthy

Vacation Time! by Nancy M Bell

Tomorrow I leave for a 15 day cruise to Hawaii. I've never been to Hawaii before, although we have taken numerous cruise vacations. It got me to thinking, how important are vacations and taking breaks to the writing process. While deadlines loom over my head, should I take the laptop with me and devote some time each day to my WIP? I'm of two minds. One part of me wants to throw caution to the wind and just let the trade winds wash my blues away. The more practical side of me says, there are 10 days at sea, it should be easy to complete my novella and get some work done on my romance. What to do, what to do.

So I will be sitting on my balcony watching for dolphins and whales and writing about the Alberta prairie. Hmmmm. Sounds good in theory. But will I follow through? That remains to be seen. I do think that a break is good for the soul and for the creative process. However, I need to balance that against the need to stay in touch with my characters and not letting my muse decide to take a VERY long vacation which would leave me staring at a blinking cursor with no words to write. That being said, the beautiful sunsets and lush scenery of Hawaii may inspire brand new stories.

On to more practical things. Sometimes getting ready to go on vacation is hardly worth the effort! I have been cleaning the house madly because the dust bunnies and dog hair bunnies will breed like crazy while I'm gone. Then, I've had to find temporary fosters for my six foster kittens and my medical foster dog. All the arrangements and dropping off and setting up things so the hand off goes smoothly. Sometimes by the time I get ready to leave, I'm exhausted and stressed out. Then there's the airport stress, and security check. I always feel guilty even though I'm anal about not having anything on me that would send up a red flag. I must look dangerous because I inevitably get pulled out of line for the 'full meal deal' security check. I walk with a cane for heaven's sake! Like I could outrun anyone and the cane goes through the X-ray. Go figure. They say it's 'random' but a couple of years ago, I flew four times in short order and three of those times I was pulled out for the 'full meal deal'. Not so random, I'm thinking.

The world we live in is so changed. Used to be you could just walk on and off the ships, now you need your passenger ID card and you have to go through X-ray security every time you get back on the ship. The times they are a'changing. I'm looking forward to the food the most. Princess lines has the best food in my opinion. Last year we sailed with Holland America, a last minute thing, we went to Alaska. The food in the dining room was only passable. I asked for the cheese tray one night and they brought a few pieces of cheese, no fruit and no crackers. Say what? I asked for some crackers and the waiter looked at me like I had two heads and then brought me some soup crackers in cellophane. Needless to say, we won't be sailing Holland America any time soon.

I am looking forward to seeing Hawaii and buying gifts for my grandkids. Perhaps some gifts for me too??? LOL

My next post on October 18th will be full of news and anticipation of Surrey International Writers Conference. It takes place the following weekend and I'm looking forward to seeing old friends and making new ones. I've been accepted as a presenter in the Unconference on Friday afternoon. During my fifteen minutes of fame I will talk about using horses in your stories. The ABC's of Horses. Nothing worse than reading about a horse 'lapping up water', horses don't 'lap' they suck up water using their teeth to strain out floating things.

Keep your eyes open for the next book in the Longview Romance series. It's called Come Hell or High Water and continues the story of Michelle and Cale that began in Storm's Rescue. Of course, Storm the three legged dog is along for the ride. See you next month.

The Horse in Your Western Novel – Horses are not Zebras or Misguided Unicorns By Connie Vines

CLICK TO PURCHASE FROM AMAZON

CLICK TO PURCHASE FROM AMAZON

Ten Pet Peeves, or Horse-Related Mistakes to Avoid in your Novel

1)   Misusing the specialized and precise vocabulary of horsemanship, especially the size, color, age and sex of the horse.

2)    Defying the laws of nature. AKA: Creating the ‘superhorse’.

3)   Horses trained or controlled by either ‘mastery’ or ‘magic,’ ignoring the real behavior of horses.

4)   Mixing up Western and English terms and styles.

5)   The stallion!  (Not the mount of choice).

6)   The self-conscious or uncomfortable expert rider.  An expert is an expert—no need to hang on for ‘dear life’.

7)   Good riders are relaxed in the saddle.  No kicking, kneeing, or flapping of elbows are needed.

8)   Forgetting that horses are animals and need to be fed and watered.  Even in modern times, your transportation requires gas, oil, and water.

9)   Talking horses—horses who neigh and, heaven forbid, scream on a regular basis.  Horses are generally rather silent beasts, though they will whinny if parted from their stable mates, or nicker softly in greeting at feeding times.

10) Tada! My personal favorite, and, unfortunately, too often seen in print and on television—the mare who takes all night to foal while the hero and heroine sort out conflict.  (Nature ensures that healthy mares foal fast.  A long labor requires someone calling for the vet—not working out ‘conflicts’.)

The Facts, please:

Since horses are flesh and blood creatures, the faster the horse goes the shorter the distance he can maintain that speed without harm. If the ride involves difficult terrain, jumping, or carrying extra weight, both speed and endurance will suffer.

Modern Endurance Rides: take 11-15 hours to cover 100 miles (part of this time the rider spends running beside his mount).

1860s: The Pony Express averaged nine mph over 25 mile stages.

For additional information, check the records from modern Thoroughbred Racing.

The Terms:

Mare: a female horse.

Stallion: a male horse that is not castrated.  Also called ‘entire’ in England and in the West, a ‘stud’ horse.

Gelding: a castrated male horse.

Foal: a young horse from birth to January 1 the next year. The female is a ‘filly foal,’ the male is a ‘colt’ foal  this may change per region).

Filly: a young female horse, up to 3 years old.

Colt: a young male horse, up to 3 years old.

Yearling: in the year after the birth year.  A yearling is too young to ride!  Most saddle horses aren’t worked hard until they are at least 4 years old.

Height: horses are measured from the ground to the top of the withers in ‘hands’. One hand is four inches. The average horse is 15 to 16 hands.  17 hands is very tall and only unusual specimens reach 18 hands.  Ponies are usually less than 14 hands.

Gaites (‘Paces’ in England): walk, trot, canter, gallop—also ‘pacing,’ ‘ambling,’ ‘running walk’ –describe precise and different ways in which a horse moves its legs. 

Rainbow Colors?  Certainly Not:

The English horsemen use fewer and simpler terms than Western horsemen, partly because English breeding has selected for fewer colors. Essentially two colors are taken into considering when describing horses. The main body color and the ‘points.’ The ‘points’ in this context are the ear tips, the mane and tail, and the lower part of the legs.

Black body, black points: A Black horse—may be smoky black, jet black, coal black, raven black.

Brown body, brown points: A Brown horse—may be seal brown, or standard brown.

Red-brown body, black points: A Bay horse—may be dark bay, mahogany bay, sandy bay.  Every Bay horse always has black points.

Reddish body, self-colored (non-black) points: A Chestnut/Sorrell horse—in the West, reds of All colors. Western horsemen use ‘sorrell’ to describe all red horses.  Light sorrel draft horses are known as ‘blonde.’

Yelllowish body, (generally) black points: Buckskin is the term used in the West.

Other colors and terms (you may wish to conduct additional research) include: A Grey, a Roan, a Palomino, a Isabella, a Paint or a Pinto, White horses and Albino, Piebald, and Skewbald.  There is also, the closest thing to a ‘horse of a different color’, the Appalossa.

Information online:

Naming your horse:
http://www.horses-and-horse-information.com/horsenames/a.shtml 

http://www.equinespot.com/horse-names.html

For fantasy (naming your unicorn):

http://fantasynamegenerators.com/horse_names.php#.VYTRXPlViko

Caring for your horse:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99RH0I-Jj34

The dollars and cents factor of horse ownership:

http://www.moneycrashers.com/cost-owning-horse-alternatives-buying/

A horse is the projection of peoples' dreams about themselves - strong, powerful, beautiful - and it has the capability of giving us escape from our mundane existence. ~ Pam Brown

Happy Riding,

Connie

Two of my loves: Tulsa and Midnight
(during my rural life in Ramona, CA)

Foxes, Horses, and a Runaway Girl by Mikki Sadil

(Young Adult author Mikki Sadil brings her Civil War historical to Books We Love, and joins us on the Insider Blog)

CLICK TO PURCHASE FROM AMAZON

Hello, I’m Mikki Sadil, a relatively new author with Books We Love. Jude told me to write something about myself, to allow all of you to get to know me. So here goes.I was born on a ranch in Texas, raised with Quarter Horses and Long Horn cattle, dogs, cats, and many unspecified animals, mostly wild. I was on the back of a horse…in front of my mom or dad or a ranch hand…from the time I was 6 months old, and was given my own Quarter Pony on my second birthday. On my fifth birthday, I was give a small .22 rifle and taught to shoot. As you may have guessed by now, horses and animals of all kinds have been a mainstay of my life…uh, .22’s, not so much.
My dad was in the service, and when I was 8 years old, he was deployed overseas and my mother and I went with him. That lasted about 2 years, then he was sent back to the US and we traveled all over this country.
When I was 10 years old, he was stationed in Washington, D.C, and we lived in a boarding house in Rock Creek, Maryland. One of his officers had a Civil War-type home ( read that as mansion) in another part of Maryland, with acres and acres of land. He also had horses…the Thoroughbreds that were used in Fox Hunts. Oh yes, Fox Hunts were real! This officer invited my father and me to take part in a Fox Hunt on a Sunday, and I was thrilled. I was not an English rider, but had had a few lessons in an English saddle so I could sit it pretty well.
That morning, there were about 40 people at this man’s home, all with their Thoroughbreds, and all of the adults dressed to the hilt in “fox hunting” clothing. Me? Well, I had on Western riding boots, jeans, and a long-sleeved shirt…not exactly dressed to the teeth for this event. My dad was far more presentable, as he had been in the Cavalry all his life ( before they turned the horses into tanks and military jeeps), so he had the proper boots and jodhpurs. I wouldn’t be caught dead riding a horse in such “sissified” attire, especially in a saddle that barely sat on the back of the horse.
Needless to say, the other adults were not exactly pleased to have a “child” riding with them, but as time went on, and I jumped the fences and went over the downed tree logs and splashed through the brooks as well as any of them, I was temporarily accepted. Temporarily being the key word.
The Fox Hunt was exactly as you’ve seen in movies or read about in books. We had a Hunt Master with a horn; we had a pack of beautiful hunt dogs, barking and straining at their leashes, eager to be let loose. There were broken fences and upright fences to jump over. There were the tree logs we had to guide our horse over or around, and there were the many brooks and streams to be splashed through. We started out, and rode for a while. It was a beautiful day, sun streaming down, gentle breeze blowing. The horses were gorgeous, coats shining in the sun, ears pricked forward, and the dogs were just being dogs.
Then…the Hunt Master let out a blast on his horn, the dogs were turned loose, and pandemonium began. Horses, horses everywhere. No longer was there any rhyme or reason for where one was riding, who you were riding beside. From a gentle canter it was now a full-out gallop, following the dogs. The dogs: yapping, barking, chasing each other, running as fast as they could. The scent of FOX was in the air. It was all I could do to stay in the saddle and handle this huge monster of a horse who was at least twice as big as my Quarter Horse, and twice as hard-headed. He was after the dogs, after the fox, and totally unresponsive to my pull on the reins.
Then, another different blast from the Hunt Master. Horses were reined in, slowed down. I looked ahead, and saw twenty dogs barking and trying unsuccessfully to climb up a tree. On a lower branch, a bit of orangy-red hung down: the FOX had been treed.
The woman next to me leaned closer, and asked if I’d ever seen how they killed the FOX? WHAT? KILL the FOX? My dad didn’t tell me that part of what a Fox Hunt was all about. I just looked at her, speechless. Suddenly, I realized all the horses were quiet. They were pacing forward at a walk. Only the dogs were still making a racket.
Oh NO! Kill the FOX? Not today! I gathered myself in the saddle, swung my crop against my horse’s side, and dug my spurs in. He jumped forward like he’d been stung by a swarm of bees. Yelling at the top of my voice, I headed straight for the dogs, the tree, and the FOX! The dogs quieted down for just a moment. They saw this huge horse and screaming “something” headed straight for them , and they scattered to the wind. The fox jumped down, and disappeared in an instant.
This Fox Hunt was so over.
My father and I were never invited to a Fox Hunt again.

You can find my books at Books We Love.

Just Me and My Besties--Slugging a Path Through Those 'Sagging Middles' By Connie Vines

PURCHASE FROM AMAZON

Yes, I have friends, associates, family, and other writers to converse with though out my day.

Yes, I network, attend workshops, and belong to online writing chapters.  I even have other writer friend only a text message away.

But at 3 AM, when I'm slugging my way through a 'not-quite-working' middle of a novel, and I've started talking to myself.  It's nice to have a BFs at your disposal.

While the focus of the movies and television seems to be on helpfulness of minions and the like--I prefer the company of a good listener--or cheering section.

Well, it's not conventional--but then I'm a bit quirky, most writer's are.  After all we do spend quite a bit of time in our own company.

For a person who did not indulge in, or particularly like, dolls as a child  (I held my baby doll by a foot allowing her head bounced around in the dirt).  I did like monster movies (The old Universal Monster Movies).  I collected the model kits and read all the magazines about horror make-up and read bios about the great actors.  So I guess this type of cheering section makes perfect sense.
(See qualifying statement in earlier paragraph).

So did I come up with any sure fire way to get through those 'sagging story middles', with or without the help of Besties?

I've changed to Pandora Radio for evening listen, and Slacker Radio during the day. When I'm working though a snag, B.J. Thomas is usually singing in the background.

Let's face it. the middle of a story can be depressing.  Our hero becomes overwhelmed.  Things look savage and harsh.  Paths disappear (for both the hero and, unfortunately, the writer).

To quote, Nancy Kress, The function of the middle is to develop the implicit promise made by a story's beginning.

After all, a promise is a promise.

This is when we must ask ourselves, whose story is this?
Who are the point of view characters?
What is the main plot line (throughline is the film term)?

Not certain?  Boy, do you have a problem!

Getting a clear focus on your plot line can make the middle of your book easier to write.  Where should the emphasize be--which scenes, which characters.  I used to rely on 3 x 5 index cards, now I use several writing programs and apps.

Since I write in series of threes: chapter 1-3, 4-7, etc. my middle seems longer because it over laps sections.  I also like to have 3 scenes in each chapter, with a scene often breaking at a chapter's end and ending in the following chapter opening.

Still experiencing a bit of trouble?  Choose three novels you know well.  For each summarize the plot line in a sentence or two.

Jane Eyre: Penniless in a region of England she does not know, Jan experiences three bitter days of begging, sleeping outside, and nearly starving.

 Dracula: One of Dr. Seward's mental patients, Renfield, lets Dracula into the asylum where the others are staying, allowing the count to prey on Mina.

It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!:  When Linus sees a shadowy figure rising from the moonlit patch, he assumes the Great Pumpkin has arrived, and faints.

Now, pull out your WIP or a few of your unfinished stores.  Summarize its plot line.  List the scenes.  How does each scene advance the plot, develop character, contribute to the middle plot line?

Do you need to add an additional scene?  Should a scene have more emotional intensity?  I find this to be true in my stories.  My stories are character driven and  the emotional reactions are a force which drives my plot lines.

Keep your characters from having a mid-life crisis by shoring up those 'sagging middles', and relying on your "Besties".

Happy Reading,

Connie

novelsbyconnievines
Word Slinger
follow Connie on Twitter

Negative Traits = The Perfect Villain by Connie Vines

 Click to purchase from Amazon

Looking for the perfect, or not so perfect, villain for your story?

Finding a hero, well that is perfectly simple.  A dash of Prince Charming, a sprinkle of Albert Einstein, a quarter cup of Fred Astaire, a hint of Hans Solo. . .well, you get my drift. A quick whisk or two and TADA!  You have a hero!

Not so, with a villain, that is an entirely different cup of (hemlock) tea. 

Deeply flawed, and driven by: dark forces, questionable morals, a wounded soul, or simply bad fashion sense, villains must connect with readers in some realistic way.  A strong villain forces the hero to step up, demanding more moral fiber than he, the hero, knew that he possessed.  Remember, there is no “Happily Ever After” without the twists and turns supplied compliments of the villain!

Remember unless your villain is a serial killer, or the embodiment of pure Evil, he—the villain, must possession a rich and complex character and past.  He must be a worthy antagonist for protagonist (aka: Our Beloved Hero).  So, how exactly do you plan to come up with the perfect villain?

I like to start with back-story (of course for most of the novel this is known only to me). I pepper hints and drop in a few clumps of info.  Later, the reader will say, “Of course!  I should have guess sooner!” The reader may harbor sympathy (which I like to develop in my Tween stories).  Everyone can relate to an event, which made a profound change is his/her life.  Sometimes this even makes a person better/stronger.  Other times (as in the villain’s case) it drives them to the edge of insanity, or damages them beyond (mental/emotional/physical) recover.  However, in the beginning, the story all about the hero.

It is not until the middle of the story; we appreciate the villain’s ability to set those nasty plot twists into motion.

Your villain can be your hero’s mirror.  Oh, you can go for the classic blonde vs brunette, if you are looking for campy.  Or, you can look to character traits.  The hero may be shy, fearful of horses, and a back-words sort of dresser with a gentle way with those in need.  While the villain is confident, articulate (with a sexy accent), owns a stable of show-horses, wears Armani suits, and (at times the veil slips) he sees gentleness as weakness.  He discovered as a child, only the strongest survive!

Give him quirks, sensitivities (remember the movie “Red Dragon”), an awareness of himself. Your villain must evolve also.  He may escalate into pure Evil, or see the light.  Or, perhaps, reside somewhere in between the two places. 

Remember to open his old wounds.  Something, be it a place, event, smell, or sound must trigger his behavior.  Show the villain trying to avoid a situation, event.

I can’t divulge too much about my “villains” due to the manner in which they tie into a story’s plot.  However, I will give you a hint, or two.

Whisper upon the Water, my YA/Tween novel set in the late 1880s in a Native American boarding school deals with the aftermath of the Indian Wars.  The story also addresses the way the children were treated and forced to become “White”.  My villain is Sister Enid.  The reader will discover that Sister Enid as a story of her own.  My romance and romantic suspense novels, Lynx and Brede (Rodeo Romance Book 1 & 2), also have carefully constructed villains.

My next BWL release, is an anthology, Gumbo Ya Ya has five separate stories.  

And, a myriad of delightful villains to boo and hiss at! 

·        “Marrying off Murphy” my villain is a friend who shoves my hero into an ‘unwelcomed situation’. 

·        “Love Potion # 9” brings us two villains: “element of magic” and. .well, that’s enough of a hint. 

·        “A Slice of Scandal” is a murder mystery where villains abound. 

·        “The Ghost of Gombi Island” we have a pirate, a ghost, and a witch on the high seas (I will let you ponder the villain’s identity.)  

·        “1-800-Fortune” (a T.A.R.A. and Fool for Love, finalist). Brings us an unnamed villain (at least until the final pages—remember, no peeking when you purchase the book).

What character traits.

Or what I’ve discovered usually irritate me, and, consequently, my hero the most.  Remember, just like the menu at “Denny’s” you can mix or match your selection.

Abrasive, Antisocial, Catty (one of my personal faves), Confrontational (perfect for a co-worker when combined Catty and Devious).  Or, Obsessive (no wait, that’s me!), Paranoid, Perfectionist, Self-Destructive, Vindictive.  These are just a few traits, I am certain you can name many, many more.

Does you villain need the limelight? Alternatively, does he prefer to hide in the shadows?  Does he have a driving need to belong? To be loved?

Your villain did not just crawl out from beneath a toadstool. 

Write that backstory and make certain your villain is the worst that he can be!

Thank you for visiting the BWL blog today.

Connie Vines

Springtime—what are your favorite memories? Betty Jo Schuler

Baby chicks in assorted colors, cuddly bunnies with wiggly noses, tulips bobbing their heads in the breeze, lilacs sweetening the air…these are a few of my favorite spring things…to remember.  Let’s take a look back in time.

Easter?  How much has yours changed?

Many years ago, baby chicks were dyed pastel colors and available for sale in dime stores and other places. I know that horrifies animal lovers today but seventy years ago, it wasn’t harmful to anyone’s knowledge, and those Easter chicks I got every year were well-taken-care of.  My daddy set up a light to keep them warm and food and water dispensers. When they needed more room, he built an outside pen and later, we took them to his sister’s farm where they prospered.

White bunny rabbits…one Easter my “boyfriend” (we were in fifth grade) brought me a really beautiful live bunny with a red bow around its neck. Yikes!  What should I do with it?  It was a baby taken from his family who was given a temporary abode until…Daddy to the rescue. He built a first-class hutch out back when Sweetie needed more room, and that bunny appeared to live a long happy life.

Setting the scene…Fragrant blossoms sweeten the air and bright green grass sways in the breeze. Spring brings new life and hope. And Easter egg hunts and baskets. Who doesn’t love dark chocolate rabbits, white chocolate crosses, marshmallow Peeps, Jelly Bellies, cream-filled eggs. And of course—the unofficial treats of the season, hard-boiled, beautifully decorated Easter Eggs.

For weeks ahead at our house, onion skins were saved and eventually eggs were boiled in a pot of water with those skins.  They turned beautiful shades from golden to mahogany.  My family and I were all convinced they tasted better—some unique aroma or flavor we couldn’t pin down.  Another procedure we used was pickling eggs to make them gorgeous and piquant. First, peel boiled eggs and pickle them in a jar of pickled beet juice. And same as most people, we also personalized Easter eggs by writing names with a white crayon on the shell before dipping them in a cup of food coloring, vinegar and water

My favorite egg to find in my basket was the panoramic spun sugar egg.  They are such a work of art.  Of course, I didn’t eat those.  They were treasures.

While we’re on the subject and skipping ahead, there was a family tradition of starting Easter dinner with egg fights. All in fun. You cracked one end of yours against one of the person’s next to you. It went around the table and once a participant’s egg was damaged on both ends, he or she was out of the game. The last “fighter” with at least one end intact is the winner.  I don’t remember any prize for that but it could be added the hilarity. Now we could eat!

 Dinner?  I doubt this was the highpoint of Easter Day for youngsters but it was delicious and slowed down the activity level for a short time. Baked ham glazed with cola and brown sugar topped with pineapple rings. (My mom made it sound like there was no secret to the way she fixed hers but no one else could ever make it as good.) I remember candied sweet potatoes, yeasty hot rolls and who knew what else, but one other memorable thing was the white multi-layer cake my grandmother made with fluffy 7 minute frosting--and wait for it—fresh shredded coconut gracing the top with a nest of jelly beans in the middle.

What do you remember?  Isn’t it wonderful to go back to Spring times of your youth?  Thanks for taking this short trip with me.

Click to purchase from Amazon

Love seasons and special days in a small town? I grew up in one in Indiana.

LOVE IN A SMALL TOWN by Betty Jo Schuler

Link: http://amzn.com/B005II64GS

This cozy Small Town is one you'll want to visit, and stay right to the end.